#although he's possibly older now i think he's probably twenty in this one

[crtter]

Speaking of Iyami! I’ve seen some people speculate on the current ages of the sextuplets and Totoko and Nyaa-chan, given how Nyaa-chan’s baby is all grown up now, which implies the characters are aging in real time and I just happen to be neurodivergent enough to have been keeping tabs on how old the characters have been getting as the years go by, so I might be able to shed some light on the subject.

First of all! The characters from -kun that had established ages were the Matsuno brothers and Iyami, being 10 and 36 respectively. Totoko, Chibita and Hatabō are often shown in the manga and 60s -kun as being in the same class as the sextuplets, so they’re probably about the same age as them as well, although sometimes they’re portrayed as either older or younger depending on the story.

The timeskip between -kun and -san is never outright stated. What’s officially mentioned is that the sextuplets are “older than twenty” and that “it’s been about ten years” since -kun.

However! We have a more concrete number when you take into account episodes 3.5 and episode 4 of season 1, set in 2015. In episode 4, Matsuzō claims he’s been married to Matsuyo for 24 years. Taking into account that having children out of wedlock is very uncommon in Japan (it’s becoming more normalized in recent years, but it definitely carried more of a stigma 20-odd years ago), we can assume that the sextuplets were younger than 24 as per season 1.

Episode 3.5 helps us narrow it even further: in it, Todomatsu claims he rented adult DVDs five years before, which would only have been possible if he was at least 18 then, since that’s the age one has to be to purchase pornographic material in Japan.

Taking all this information into account, we can infer that the sextuplets can’t be any older than 24 and were 18 five years before 2015. This gives us a solid number for their age: 23 years old, as of 2015!

Until now, though, it hadn’t been confirmed that the characters were aging in real time but seeing that Nyaa-chan’s baby has aged since her last appearance in season 3, I think it’s safe to assume everyone has been aging as well! That would make the sextuplets as of 2023, 31 years old and Nyaa-chan’s baby, who seemed to be a few months old as of her first appearance in November 2020, around three years old!

[little-red-fool]

I wanna learn about silver tongue I love abyss lore

Heehee I’ll gladly talk about Silvertongue and his backstory. I don’t know as much about Forgotten Realms lore as I would like to so correct me if anything seems inaccurate, also I haven’t fully fleshed out his lore yet but this might still be quite long because I like rambling lol so I’ll try to summarise it a little (also I might have changed some of the Dark Urge lore to fit his backstory too whoops).

*cracks knuckles* Ok so as a bit of an overview of his character, Silvertongue originally started off as a half-elf bard when I made him, he was also chaotic good but I was able to develop his character a lot more when I decided to ship him with Raphael and made him chaotic evil instead because I thought two evil bards would be really funny, which then led me into researching into Forgotten Realms lore; I found out that cambions can also be half demons in some versions of D&D so that’s why he’s like how he is now.

I’ll talk a bit about his backstory now that you have a brief summary of his character. Whilst Silvertongue’s a half-demon cambion, he’s still a half-elf in game so I decided to make his mother a high elf, although like other cambions she died during childbirth, and I like to think that the reason is because like some animals (such as spiders) he ate his way out of her womb rather than being delivered naturally. Although he was born in Blood Tor, he was very quickly transported to Toril where he grew up in an orphanage in human society (possibly in Baldur’s Gate but I haven’t decided), and for the most part his demonic heritage wasn’t prominent and he fit in well with the other children despite the odd outburst and rampage which were few and far between and wouldn’t last long—he was always drawn to music as a child which lead him to learning how to play violin and flute, and that started his career as a bard when he was a teenager. As he grew older though it became harder to hide his heritage and his urges grew stronger and more difficult to manage, he became more malicious and deceitful, as well as more sadistic, which then escalated and led to him attacking and killing a few people. After this happened he was hunted down like an animal when people discovered his heritage so he fled the city. It wasn’t long after this that his father—a demon—managed to track him down and bring him to the Abyss, saying that he would fit in better there and that his talents would be appreciated more.

This was when he came back to Blood Tor, where he spent his mid twenties to his late fifties. Whilst there he was a vassal to Beshaba and served as a manservant in the court, sometimes directly assisting Beshaba. When he was older he was drafted into the Blood War as a soldier and was trained to fight. He was originally sent on raids with other demons to the City of Strife to steal souls from the Wall of the Faithless, but later on he was sent into proper battles in Oinos, and much later he was stationed in Avernus up until recently. Whilst Silvertongue had a few mortal friends on Toril, he didn’t really have any in the Abyss due to the untrusting and malicious nature of most demons, however he was close with a couple of other cambions that also served under Beshaba at the same time as him. They were also drafted into the Blood War alongside Silvertongue, however one was killed during a baatezu attack in Bloor Tor, but he managed to save his other friend from an orthon attack, however this meant that he suffered many injuries and his clothes were tattered—he still wears the coat he wore from the orthon attack as he views it as a symbol of pride and a reminder that he saved his friend. Silvertongue is probably around 300 or so years old (give or take) so he served in the Blood War for over 250 years, and he was a decent soldier. He was often picked on due to his diminutive stature compared to the other demon soldiers, however what he lacked in strength and size he made up in agility and stealth. That isn’t to say he’s weak though he could still easily rip a human in half.

Now that I’ve given you most of his backstory I’ll talk about the events that took place recently to when BG3 starts. This part is also linked to the Dark Urge backstory, which I altered a bit for Silvertongue’s backstory. Although he was still fighting in Avernus, he started going on missions to Toril in order to disrupt devils from gaining souls from mortals, and for this he went to lots of different cities, one of these being Baldur’s Gate. This is when he ran into the cult of Bhaal, and long story short he ended up becoming involved—he didn’t worship Bhaal but he thought that having the Bhaalists on his side would be useful. Not too long after he met Gortash, and he found out about his affiliation with Bane, and learned about the Crown of Karsus and the Elderbrain, which is when Silvertongue forged the plan to use the Elderbrain and the ilithid tadpoles to turn the people into mindflayers as it would completely destroy the devils’ ability to recruit mortal souls as mindflayers were soulless. Him, Gortash and Ketheric carry out the plan etc etc and during these times Silvertongue keeps occasionally returning to Avernus to continue fighting in the Blood War.

This is right before the events of the game, as he was in Avernus when the nautiloid passed through it at the beginning, and due to being half-elf and therefore somewhat mortal he was swept up by the nautiloid and infected by a tadpole. Similar to some of the other companions—such as Wyll and Gale—Silvertongue’s stronger abilities and a lot of his power were sealed due to the tadpole’s influence, and he was trapped in his mortal aspect with very little magic. His current goal, like the other companions, is to get rid of the tadpole in order to regain his demonic aspect and his powers so he can continue to fight in the Blood War, although reluctantly—he recognises that it’s his duty and it gives him the opportunity to maim and kill others, but he’s still quite connected to his mortal lineage and he likes the thought of retiring, or at least living in Toril rather than continuing to fight in the Blood War.

Alright now on to him and Raphael (and a bit of Haarlep). Their first meeting was interesting, Silvertongue immediately clocked Raphael as a devil and tried to attack him, whilst in my interpretation of Raphael he’s never fought in the Blood War himself and has only witnessed it from afar so he can’t easily distinguish a demon when they’re not in an easily recognisable form, so he just thought Silvertongue was a bit jumpy and paranoid. I haven’t gotten Silvertongue past Act 1 yet, so whilst these events haven’t taken place yet I’m still going to refer to them in past tense for ease. Raphael manages to figure out that Silvertongue’s a half-demon at Last Light and that he was a soldier in the Blood War, which is what prompts him to get Silvertongue to kill Yurgir. In Act 3 I think Raphael’s contract would be slightly altered for Silvertongue, instead offering to remove his tadpole rather than giving him the Orphic Hammer. In exchange Raphael still receives the Crown of Karsus. Since Silvertongue has spent most of his life in the Abyss and hasn’t encountered any devils in a peaceful or conversational setting, he doesn’t really know how tricky they are and the weight of their contracts and how binding they are, so he signs Raphael’s contract; Raphael keeps his word and removes his tadpole. Unfortunately, with Silvertongue having grown attached to his companions and hating authority figures, he decides to break into Raphael’s home to nick the Orphic Hammer so he can free Orpheus, but he doesn’t take his contract as he just thinks it’s some old piece of paper, he doesn’t think that it actually holds any power over him or his soul. As you might know if you break into Raphael’s home without stealing your contract he, uh, incinerates you. My interpretation of this is that the player character then becomes one of his debtors trapped in his house, which is exactly what happens to Silvertongue. Fortunately his companions were able to escape with the hammer, however Helsik then closed the portal because let’s be real who wants a rampaging devil chasing after you into Toril, so essentially Silvertongue is stuck there as his soul is bound and his companions currently had no way of breaking him out.

Raphael doesn’t have as much power over Silvertongue as his other debtors due to his Abyssal heritage and not being fully mortal, so Silvertongue still has some freedom and is (mostly) sane (or as sane as he was before becoming a debtor), he’s mostly just bound to the house and unable to harm Raphael. Silvertongue is not happy about his situation and spends the first couple of weeks essentially throwing a huge tantrum and destroying half the furniture. He meets Haarlep during this time and since I headcanon Haarlep as being an enslaved tanar’ri (thanks to this post which completely hey this place isn’t too bad, it’s warm, I get a bed aechanged my outlook) they hit it off well pretty quickly, so they became quite close and shit-talked Raphael. It took a few weeks but Silvertongue realised that hey this place isn’t that bad, it’s warm, I get a bed and free food and I’m not constantly praying for my life and I don’t have to kill devils 24/7 for hundreds of years so he very quickly becomes a lot like a house cat, although he also realises that whilst he might be stuck with Raphael, Raphael is also stuck with him, which gives him the motivation to be an absolute prick but in a petty and mischievous way rather than an overly destructive and murderous way. Raphael absolutely hates this at first but over time they get more comfortable with each other and less antagonistic, which then evolves into a slight fondness (well more of a mild love-hate relationship), and I think that’s all up-to-date.

I’m so sorry that was so long ajdnshdndn but I really enjoyed infodumping about Silvertongue’s backstory, thank you so much for this ask!

[karlachgale95]

Hearts of the Multiverse--Chapter Twenty: Father of Mine

              It had been a week since Luke, William (and Agatha by extension), Rose, Max, Edward, Markus, Connor, and Lt. Anderson had joined them. Luckily, Miss Lilith Clawthorne and Gale had figured out a spell that made it possible to add more rooms to the shrine without altering its physical structure. They were like dimensional rooms open only to the people who lived in them.

              He had roommates now: Miles, Giorno, Zuko, William, Danny, Yugi, and Arven. And it was nice to have his own space, or at least, an eighth of a space. It was alright; the room was huge. Whatever Miss Clawthorne and Gale had also designed each of their parts of their room to their tastes. For example, lots of wolf plushies and wallpaper in his corner. Danny’s room was decorated with glow-in-the-dark moons, stars, and planets. There were posters of people in weird helmets and suits standing on the moon. Miles’s corner had cartoon posters and a few collectible figurines Hunter assumed he had before he came here. Zuko’s room had a few small dragon statues made of jade. There were maps detailing both Tokyo and his home in the Fire Nation. Arven’s room was lined by recipes and pictures of himself with Mabosstiff. He seemed happier in those pictures. There were a couple of pictures with him and Flap in his own corner; he understood the importance of having those memories with him. William’s corner had a bunch of movies and Broadway posters, books, and figurines lining his shelves and walls. He seemed to be big into older movies and shows, especially if they featured magic. He and Luz were probably going to get along. Giorno’s room was regal: nice pillows, blankets, and wallpaper. The wallpaper itself was black while most of the bedding was varied purple hues. He had a few paintings hanging on his wall; they all looked pretty old. Yugi’s space was decorated in old Egyptian mythology (he had explained it to both Hunter and Arven who were unfamiliar with the history). He had several puzzles and games they’d been putting to use over the past couple of days.

Ever since the meeting last week, Kaiba wasn’t openly antagonistic to anyone. Although, he never seemed too antagonistic to Jotaro, Zuko, Arven, or himself. Had it been that night they’d tried to help him? Hunter didn’t know. He’d even tried at an apology to Katara. It was a start.

Today he was practicing a rune Gale had been teaching. Hunter still wasn’t sure how a normal human was able to practice magic without the Titan’s language. Gale insisted there was a goddess who helped channel magic, but he always skimmed over their questions when they tried to ask more about her. Sokka, Zuko, and Suki were offering combat and sword training, but he didn’t need that. He’d had plenty of physical training during his time in the Emperor’s Coven. While the trio’s training was likely not as heinous as Belos’s training, he’d rather train with his weaker element. He needed to get better at magic, now that he had it. He owed Flap that much.

Tracing the rune was easy, but evoking the magic was another story. He’d tried this one rune over ten times now; it was supposed to make him invisible. However, he was still very much visible. He shut his eyes and tried again.

“Evanesco!”

Peeking his eyes open, he saw that he was still visible. He groaned and laid his head down on the desk in front of him.

“Working with magic takes a while,” William spoke up. “You’ve got to know what you want to do and commit to it.”

“I know what I want to do,” Hunter snapped. He lifted his head up, aware that he was frustrated and taking it out on the wrong person. “Sorry. I just want to get better at this.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” William said with a small smile. “I mean, I do, too. Magic is hard to master, but I think with the right amount of focus and emotion put behind the spell.”

He stood up, closing the book in his hands. “Maybe you should take a break, both of you.”

Giorno glanced up from his book and shook his head. “I need to figure this out. There are so many ways this could end badly. I can’t let that happen.”

After he said that, Miles walked into the room, causing Giorno to casually put it down into a bag he kept on him. Miles raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“It’s chaos out there,” Miles said. “Adora challenged Sokka to a friendly duel, and he didn’t know she’s basically trained her whole life to be able to fight with—whatever. How’s it going in here?”

“Terrible,” Hunter answered. “Magic shouldn’t be this hard. Luz was able to do more by now—why can’t I?”

“How much practice did she have to get so good? Also, didn’t the Owl Lady teach her?” Miles asked.

“Yeah, I guess I should consider that,” Hunter admitted. “It’s just hard. I mean, it’s been a long year. Everything is so different. I lived my life being told what to do. And now, with everything going on, I feel so underprepared, and I hate it! It feels like I should know what to do, where to go, and how to work for it, but I don’t!”

“Kind of sounds like you’re relying on old tactics that used to work that don’t work so well anymore,” Miles said. “It’s like you said: everything is different. So, you can’t rely on the skills of the person you used to be. You gotta be willing to adapt.”

“I’m adaptable,” Hunter argued.

“Oh yeah?” Danny’s voice interjected. “Think fast!”

Hunter acted instinctively as something white flew in his general direction. He caught and threw back the object with twice as much force. Danny yelled, “whoa!” as a pillow phased right through him.

“Seems like you’ve got a handle on quick-time reactions,” Miles said.

“I guess so,” Hunter said with a shrug. “It’d be nice to get my magic under control—or at least—useable.”

“Maybe you’ve got to find your inner fire,” Zuko suggested.

At that moment, Yugi and Arven walked into the room. Both were covered in flour.

“What happened to you two?” Danny asked.

“Usagi, Josuke, and Okuyasu happened,” Arven grumbled. “I was helping Chibiusa make a pie for one of her friends, and Yugi wanted to help. So, we did that. We baked an apple pie, and those three jerks found it. Needless to say, Chibiusa was upset when we came back to check if the pie had finished cooling. There was a flour war. And now Rei is making all of them clean it up; we didn’t participate.”

“That’s actually kind of hilarious,” Danny said.

“Shame you guys went through all that effort for nothing,” William said.

“It’s a shame Chibiusa’s efforts were wasted,” Arven said, crossing his arms. “If I worked that hard on food for someone I cared about only for some rando to eat it, I’d be super peeved.”

“We can always help her make another one when she comes back from school,” Yugi said.

Zuko stood up. “Actually, I’m going to be busy today. I promised my uncle I’d help him at his shop.”

“You sure about that, Zuko?” Miles asked. “Kind of looks like it’s going to storm out there.”

Peering outside the window, there was, indeed, no sunlight. Dark, finger-like clouds clawed through the sky, as if they’d stolen the sun.

“If it gets too bad, I’ll just stay at the tea shop. It’ll be fine,” Zuko assured him.

William picked up the remote. “Maybe we should at least check the weather first?”

And there was Vox in a human disguise; there was a shorter woman with him with pink hair in tornado twin tails. The black blouse and skirt she wore were fashionable and sparkly.

“What are they up to?” Miles asked with a scowl.

“I’m here with business entrepreneur, model, and influencer, Vel,” Vox said, gesturing to the woman beside him. “So, you want to tell us about your new project?”

“Of course,” the woman, Vel, apparently, said with a huge grin. “As Val’s started making many clubs for more *ahem* mature audiences, I thought I would make a joint for only the most elite, glamourous, and in-the-know kids. We’ve got modern music, mocktails, celebs, you name it. And the entry fee is reasonable, too. First-time entry is completely free. We’ll be opening later this week!” She grinned almost the point of a smirk. “It’ll be a hell of a time. To any of my doubters, well, just come and see.”

“Well, that’s an obvious trap,” Giorno said. “Given what Kakyoin has told us, she’s just as evil as the TV guy and mothman.”

“True,” Miles said. “But what happens to the people who have no clue? She could be trying to steal their souls.”

“It would be a waste of time,” William said. Giorno gave him a soft glare. “Right.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

Giorno shook his head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“I thought you said, ‘no more secrets,’” Miles pointed out.

“Miles, trust me on this,” Giorno said. “Everything is fine. I’ve got it under control.”

Miles crossed his arms. “Uh-huh. So, that’s why you always look super tired and spend all night reading. What’s in that book, anyway?”

“It’s none of your concern,” Giorno shot back.

“I don’t buy that.”

“And I have other stuff to do today than bicker with you,” Giorno said, getting up, tucking the book into a bag he slung over his shoulder. “Just, please, stay out of this, Miles.”

He rushed out before Miles could get a word in edgewise. Miles shook his head. “He’s not getting off the hook that easy.”

Miles walked out, probably to follow Giorno. No one did anything to stop him, so were they accomplices to whatever happened?

“I’m…going to head out, too,” Zuko said. “I’ll just…yeah.”

And so that left Arven, Yugi, Danny, Hunter, and William to their own devices. William was the first to speak up, “So, have they told each other that they…?”

Danny shook his head. “And at this rate they probably never will.”

“Well, that’s sad,” Yugi said.

“I think that’s the least of our worries,” Hunter spoke up. “What do you think Vel is planning? Why go through the trouble of making a hangout spot for kids?”

“Miles was probably right,” Yugi said. “She likely wants to steal people’s souls. It’s a divide and conquer scheme. They’ve already got a lot of people covering the park areas. Having people inside the cities is their next move.”

Pretty soon, they’d be surrounded. Every area would be covered in Deathbusters spies and monsters. There wouldn’t be anywhere to hide; not even the shrine would be safe!

Hunter shook his head and took a deep breath, counting down on his fingers like Gus had taught him. Now was not the time to have a panic attack. They could still beat them, right? He stood up. He needed to talk to the others. Maybe they’d have a plan.

“Hey…I’m gonna go talk to my family.”

“And then there were four,” Danny commented.

“Sorry. I just…need to talk to them.”

“It’s okay, Hunter,” Yugi said. “We understand.”

Hunter nodded and sprinted to the main room where Luz, Amity, Gus, Vee, and Willow were already hanging out. Amity had Vel’s ad playing on her scroll.

“This is everywhere on Penstagram,” Amity said, her face scrunching up with worry.

“Don’t worry, sweet potato,” Luz said. “We won’t let anyone get hurt by those creeps.”

Willow was the first to look up and see Hunter. When she did, she ran over to him. Willow was a calming force he desperately needed right now.

“I saw,” Hunter said. “Innocent people might die because of this.”

“We’ve gotta make sure that doesn’t happen,” Luz spoke up. “With all the new magic I’m learning, I should be way more prepared this time to take on those daimon!”

“They’ve got a vampire, three demons, a witch, and two insane inventors on their side. We can’t just rush into a fight,” Gus argued.

“Well, we can’t just do nothing,” Luz argued. “There’s gotta be something! Something we can do to help!”

A thought dawned on Hunter. “What if I’m not the only one here…”

“What do you mean, Hunter?” Willow asked. Her eyes were full of concern.

“What if I’m not the only one here who has a talisman?” Hunter asked. “What if Luz has one? What about Amity? Gus? Vee? Willo—?”

He was cut off when Willow wrapped her arms around him. He felt his face heat up. “It’s alright, Hunter. We’re not going to let those guys steal anyone’s heart. Trust me.”

He stayed in the hug for a moment before breaking away. He did his best to give her a smile. “Th-thanks Willow. It’s…just scary. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, and…I don’t want to get caught again.”

“We won’t let them,” Willow assured him.

Hunter desperately wanted to believe her. However, the low roll of thunder and gray sky did nothing to assuage his worry. And in any case, they still needed to see what Vel was planning with that club. It was going to be dangerous. He wasn’t sure if having the people he cared about most going into a death-trap with him was horrifying or reassuring.

Usagi bounded into the room with Mamoru and those two girls: Haruka and Michiru. Hunter couldn’t say why, but there was something off about those two. Although, he felt like a jerk for being so suspicious over Usagi’s friends. However, Zuko agreed with him. It was like they were always just around the corner. Maybe they were connected with the witches? Alastor?

“Hey guys!” Usagi said with a wave. “What’re you talking about?”

“Oh, that new club that’s opened up,” Gus said casually.

“It looks like a bad idea,” Mamoru commented. “I mean, there weren’t even any limits as to how many people could be in the building at a time. I’m pretty sure that violates basic firecodes.”

“I give it a week,” Haruka said. “Before it’s shut down.”

“Hey, were Giorno and Miles mad at each other?” Usagi asked. “Miles was yelling about a book, and Giorno kept insisting it wasn’t a big deal. Did he forget to turn in a library book?”

“I think it’s a bit deeper than that,” Hunter said. “They need to talk and sort things out.”

“Oh?” Michiru asked, raising an eyebrow. “How long have they been together?”

“I don’t know if it’s like that,” Hunter said. “Although…it’d make sense.”

For example, Danny and William’s comments earlier. But he wasn’t going to comment on a plausible relationship that wasn’t his to comment on.

“Guess what?” Usagi chirruped, bringing him out of his thoughts. “We got invited to a fancy party! Miss Lily was told that Mamoru’s friend, Edwards wanted to meet the best and brightest from the new generation!” She leaned in with a grin and whispered. “That means us!”

“Are there going to be a lot of people there?” Vee asked.

“More like a lot of academics in search of a scholarship,” Haruka scoffed. Michiru crossed her arms. “What? It’s true.”

“Edwards is a kind man,” Mamoru said. “He’s incredibly wealthy—a self-made man.”

“A lot of self-made people aren’t really self-made,” Luz muttered.

“Nevertheless,” Michiru continued. “They’re fun parties! You should all go. It kind of looks like you could use it.”

“I’m going,” Usagi said. “It’ll be super fun and…” she glanced to Hunter, her eyes lighting up in recognition of discomfort. “it’ll be safe.”

“True,” Michiru spoke up again. “There will be security guards and a…strange owl-bird-tube-thing posted at the front at all times.”

“Hooty?” Luz asked.

“You know him?” Michiru asked. Her calm and pleasant smile slipped, as one’s calm and pleasant smile does when the mention of Hooty comes up. “Why is he…like that?”

Luz shrugged and laughed.

“I find him strangely endearing.”

The group had failed to notice another lurking in the corner of the room: Kakyoin, Jotaro, Avdol, and Polnareff.

“Kinda stupid for this guy to be throwing a party during the middle of all these attacks,” Jotaro commented.

“I assure you, Edwards is a smart man,” Mamoru cut in sharply. “And the party is perfectly safe.”

“Like how that festival was perfectly safe, right?” Jotaro countered.

“You could’ve just said no,” Michiru reprimanded.

Jotaro looked at her then Haruka and shook his head. “Who said I wasn’t going? Gotta make sure no one gets hurt, after all.”

“How noble,” Haruka said with a snort.

Jotaro glared at her and muttered something under his breath.

“I take it the event is formal attire,” Kakyoin interjected quickly.

“Most assuredly,” Mamoru said.

“Fun,” Jotaro said, leaning back against the wall.

“It could be fun,” Luz said with a half-smile.

Hunter wasn’t so sure. Their hearts were on the line, he didn’t trust Haruka and Michiru, and…Belos was out there…somewhere. What if he was looking for them? What if he found him? What if he found his friends?

Would the people he loved most be safe?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, “Hey kid.”

It was Jotaro. He continued. “Don’t know what you’re thinking, but you look like you’re gonna hurl.” He paused. “You’re gonna be fine. We won’t let that creepy old fuck hurt you.”

Hunter tucked his arms closer into his body. “Th-thanks.”

“Don’t make yourself an easy target,” Jotaro said. “You gotta hit hard, especially if you know a weakness.”

“Um…okay. Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Jotaro is right,” Luz said with a grin. “We’ve got this!”

“Yeah!” Gus agreed. “Belos is going to Belose again!”

While the others laughed, Hunter still couldn’t help but feel uneasy. They had strength in numbers, but their enemies kept coming back with new powers, people, and weapons.

Glancing back to his friends who had gone back to the conversation of the party, he took in how excited everyone seemed to be. Willow and Luz broke from the conversation, looked at him, gave him a weary smile and a thumbs up. They were nervous, too. Scary considering they were two of the most confident people he’d ever known.

              If they were having doubts, what did that mean for their future?

              …

              Miles followed Giorno; he wasn’t going to let him walk away from this. He wanted—no—needed answers. He promised.

              They were walking down the streets aligned with several shops, restaurants, and arcades. Giorno was surprisingly able to outpace him. At one point, he lost sight of him entirely. He took a deep breath and refrained from screaming in the middle of the street.

              What was that book? Why was he guarding it so much? Why was he keeping secrets? Would this…would this be like it was with Gwen all over again? He couldn’t take that kind of emotional betrayal again. As it was, he was ready to snap. There was already so much going on; if Giorno betrayed him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do next.

              “Hey!”

              Miles froze dead in his tracks for just a second. He knew that voice instantly. The rapid footsteps behind him kicked his own legs into gear. He glanced behind to see Miguel O’Hara pushing past people; his eyes were dead set on Miles. Crap!

              “Stop! Stop him!”

              Miles pushed forward, ignoring the concerned and confused looks of passersby. He kept running until he saw another figure, waiting patiently up ahead: the vampire, Morlun. Ahead and behind were death, and he couldn’t use his webbing, not while he was in civilian clothing. Morlun grinned, the corners of his mouth like the crypt-keeper.

              Was he going to die here?

              Someone quickly dragged him backwards into the shop on their right. It was completely dark inside. What kind of place was this? How would they be safe in—?

              The front door clicked and then disappeared entirely.

              “Fuck,” he heard Giorno murmur.

              “Giorno?” Miles questioned. “What’s going on? Where are we? Why did you run away?”

              Giorno glanced away. “I’m not sure where we are, but Morlun is out there.”

              “Yeah, and Miguel.”

              “So, that’s what he looks like,” Giorno noted. He paused. “I’m sorry.”

              “Dude, just tell me what’s going on! I might be able to help you!”

              Giorno shook his head. “It would be better if you weren’t involved. Please, Miles, I need you to stay out of this.”

              “Why?”

              “Because you two are facing a very…grave future,” a voice above, maybe through an intercom spoke up.

              “Who are you?” Miles asked.

              “I am merely an entity who seeks to bring enlightenment to your situation,” the voice explained. “Perhaps once this tour is over, we can all be friends.”

              “Unlikely,” Giorno said.

              “We’ll see. Now, one at a time,” the voice instructed.

              Miles wasn’t sure what he meant by that until a wall popped up, separating him and Giorno. “H-Hey!”

              “Miles?” Giorno’s muffled voice questioned from the other side of the wall. “Are you alright?”

              “I’m fine,” Miles assured him. He stared up at the ceiling. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

              “Please move forward,” a familiar voice instructed. It was that ghost-man hybrid. This must be Alastor’s doing! “Move forward and all will be revealed, especially little secrets someone may be hiding.”

              It was quiet for a moment before he heard Giorno speak up again, his voice harsh and like a bee’s sting. “Leave him out of this. I’m warning you.”

              “Your powers are spiritual-based,” the ghost-man drawled. “I’m not frightened by a child who has yet to comprehend the full extent of harm he can inflict on others.”

              “Giorno,” Miles tried softly. “Let’s just get through this. I promise, whatever it is, I’m right here, alright?”

              “Miles…you don’t know what they’re talking about.”

              “And whose fault is that?” Miles asked. When Giorno went quiet again, Miles sighed. “Look, it doesn’t matter what happens here. We’re friends, and I’m not just going to abandon you, leave you to Morlun, or let you make a deal with some devil. I’m with you all the way. Now, let’s just go ahead and get this over with.”

              “…alright.”

              Miles tried to clear his mind. Giorno obviously knew more than he was letting on; he and William both had been acting weird. And now he was supposed to find out what exactly was being kept from him. Plus, Alastor was involved, so that was always fun.

              A light shined ahead. It was an old-timey projection screen. Miles walked toward it as it began to play:

              Morlun flung him across the room, his body landed next to someone else. Through a blurred lens he saw blond hair and a bloodied purple outfit. Miles saw that his video image was bleeding from his right arm, stomach, and from a few cuts on his face. Whatever happened before must’ve been brutal.

              He feebly grabbed the person beside him. “G-Giorno…no…please don’t be…”

              Giorno’s eyes were wide open as they had been when he’d sacrificed himself when Alastor cornered them. His body looked bruised, battered, and possibly more than Miles appeared to be. But…he couldn’t be.

              “It’s your turn, now, Spiderman,” Morlun said, sauntering over to him.

              Mirror Miles tried to stand, but he faltered. “His soul. Give it back!” He was screaming through his own tears. “Give it back now!”

              “His soul is nothing but a talisman now,” Morlun droned on. “You exhausted all other alternatives, your friends have fallen, and now it’s time to give up this game. It’s been fun, and you were a worthy adversary, as well as your ill-fated love, but I’ve no patience left. Unless, of course, you’d like to see your parents perish, too?”

              Even battered Miles glared up at Morlun. “L-leave them alone…stop this!”

              “Do you surrender?” Morlun asked. “Surrender and I leave them be. Surrender, and I will not consume the one you love.”

              Miles was quiet for a moment. “Can he come back if you don’t…?”

              “It’s a possibility,” Morlun said. “Depending upon your butterfly’s determination.”

              Who in the hell was he talking about? Also, by love, did he mean…? Miles felt his face heat up and his guts knot as he continued to watch the screen.

              “Alright. I’ll do it, then. I give up.”

              Morlun grinned wickedly as he placed a hand on Miles’s shoulder. “I knew you’d make the right decision.”

              Actual Miles looked away from the screen as he heard his voice shriek and then quickly cut off.

              “Tragic, isn’t it, Mr. Morales?” the infamous, staticky voice commented behind him. He turned to glare at the Radio Demon who smiled and waved in response. “Utterly terrible. This is what happens when you decide to romance someone so below you. He lives in this timeline, you know? And you…well, you have a lovely funeral.”

              “This has happened already,” Miles surmised. He glared at the Radio Demon. “Where is he? What’ve you done?”

              “More like, what can he do? Or rather, what’s he going to do with you?” Alastor asked, the room darkening as his smile was the only visible feature. “He’s been keeping secrets from you, Miles. Sure! In the timeline you’ve seen, you fall by Morlun’s hand. In another…”

              Miles shook his head slowly. “No…I don’t believe you. He would never!”

              “Oh?” Alastor asked, grin getting wider. “Why don’t we see if you’re right?”

              He waved his hand, drawing back a curtain, leading to a room that looked like a movie theatre. Alastor gestured for Miles to walk inside and disappeared. He heard his voice on the screen.

              “What’ve you done to him?”

              Miles walked in and stared at the screen. In front of this movie version of himself was Giorno’s father, the priest, and Giorno. Although, Giorno was a lot paler than he should’ve been, and his irises were crimson red.

              “Giorno? What did you do?” Miles murmured under his breath.

              His father, Dio, continued. “I needed to revive him—a soul is a heavy loss. However, I, DIO, know how to handle such situations.”

              “What is that? What is that in the center of his forehead?” Movie Miles asked.

              “I’m sure Kakyoin has told you about fleshbuds,” DIO said. “My son was a little put off by the stories he’s heard from your friends. It was a simple measure to make him more amicable to our work.”

              “In other words, you’re controlling him!” Miles argued. “You can’t do that! He’s your son!”

              “It may seem extreme, but I’ll do anything to have my son by my side as we seek our revenge on those who have wronged us.”

              He gestured to the halved remains of the Radio Demon; that smile branding his face, even in death.

              “Now, Mr. Morales, will you join us?” DIO asked. “If you do, you can become beyond those who would hurt you. I would offer you immortality, as well.” His face darkened. “If not, you will be considered amongst our enemies and dealt with swiftly.”

              This version of himself paused. “…I won’t allow you to control the person I love or hurt the Joestars. I’ll save Giorno, no matter what.”

              DIO scowled. “I thought you would know better. Clearly, the Crusaders taught you nothing. You’ll be the first blood, then. Giorno, my son, kill him.”

              It was as though a switch had flipped. Giorno’s eyes locked onto Miles and within seconds, he was standing in front of him.

              “Giorno! Wait!”

              Giorno didn’t seem to hear him as he jammed blade-like fingernails into Miles’s neck. His eyes widened in shock before he quickly fell to his knees, gasping and trying to say something. Real Miles knew he probably wouldn’t be able to say anything.

              “And this is what will happen should you refuse my deal once again,” he heard Alastor comment from the front of the theatre. “I know you’d like to save Mr. Morales as much as I’d like to not die by your father’s hands. So, last chance, Mr. Giovanna. The next time I ask, the price will increase, and he’ll be included.”

              Miles rushed to the front of the screen. Seeing Alastor extending his hand out to Giorno who’s red eyes and distant stare said it all. If he noticed Miles were there, he didn’t give any indication. He couldn’t let Alastor trick him into this deal. Even if this were real…it wasn’t his fault! There had to be another way!

              “You’ll keep him and his family safe?” Giorno asked.

              “Of course,” Alastor said. “And once you’re properly mine, I’ll use my connections to erase your father from the equation entirely. Your power will give me enough of a pathway to do that.”

              “If I do this…you will leave Miles alone.”

              “Absolutely. He won’t hear from me, or by extension, you, ever again.”

              Giorno looked at Alastor to his hand, surrounded by a magic green glow. He was considering it! Miles tried to stop him, to call out to him. “Giorno! Stop! Don’t! We can find another way!”

              “You’ll have to think of something better than that,” Alastor’s voice mocked in his head.

              As Giorno reached his hand up to meet Alastor’s, Miles rushed in and grabbed Giorno’s hand. This seemed to shake Giorno out of whatever spell he was under. “Miles? What are you doing?”

              “More like what are you doing?” Miles countered. “You’re trying to make a deal with Alastor! You’ll die! I’ll-I’ll never see you again!”

              “Maybe that’s for the best,” Giorno muttered. “Miles, I would love nothing more than to stay here with you. Surely you know that. But there are so many ways that ends badly. I don’t want to hurt you or anyone in the Joestar family. They’ve been good to me.”

              “You won’t,” Miles assured him. “All we need to do is work together. We’ll find another way. No one is going to die, especially not us. You promised, and I’m going to hold you to it.”

              Giorno paused. “Miles, you don’t…”

              “I’m really tired of people telling me what I don’t understand,” Miles said. “I get it. There’s real danger here, and it’s scary. But I’m not willing to face it without you, so, unfortunately for you, you’ve gotta keep your word. Or does that mean anything to you?”

              Giorno stood up, his face was unreadable. “Of course it does. But you…you’re important to me. I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. That’s why I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you—”

              Miles cut him off. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive.”

              “Then we’re at an impasse.”

              Alastor cleared his throat. “I see you need time to think it over. You can explain your situation entirely to Mr. Morales. I’ll give you thirty minutes’ time. If you haven’t come up with the correct answer by then, I throw you back into the streets with O’Hara and Morlun.”

              With that, he disappeared, and the doors in the room vanished. The last, remaining light in the room flickered off as Giorno caught his hand. He could make out his eyes and the outline of his face in the pitch dark.

              “If I don’t take the deal now,” Giorno spoke in a low voice. “If something bad happens in the future, and you…you’re hurt. He’ll want both our souls—not just mine—to save you.”

              “Nothing bad is going to happen,” Miles objected.

              This time Giorno cut him off and dug something out of the bag on his shoulder. “Oh yeah? So, explain the memory we just watched! Explain the one you watched! It’s all in here! You wanted to know so badly what was in this book? It’s all the times we’ve died: you, me, the Joestars, Hunter, everyone! Everyone in this book…they possess a talisman. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to counteract it, but I’m the root cause for at least 50% of them. How am I supposed to help you when I’m the reason you die?”

              His grip got tighter as he sat down on the ground; Miles followed suit. Miles didn’t know what to say. He wanted to help, but how could he help someone dead set on self-ruin? They sat there in silence for a few minutes, far longer than he would’ve liked. Were they close to their deadline? What would Giorno choose? He couldn’t take the deal! He just couldn’t! Miles needed to convince him otherwise. Well, he could try one thing. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up looking too stupid after this.

              “You know,” Miles began. “I care about you a lot, too. You saw that in the memories, didn’t you?”

              Giorno’s grip lessened. “Miles…”

              “I meant what I said,” Miles said. “I’d like, when this is all over, to be able to hang out with you. I’m pretty sure we can manage it, even with our responsibilities. I’ll show you all the rare quiet places in New York. We could study together, grab dinner from a place that claims to be Italian. You can tell me if it sucks or not. No monsters, no demons, no vampires. Just us.”

              “Just us?” Giorno repeated, he leaned in a little closer. “All of that sounds nice, if it’s possible.”

              “What would you want to do?” Miles asked, the room suddenly got a little smaller and possibly warmer.

              “We could explore Italy,” Giorno suggested. “There’s plenty of quiet places I know of; beautiful when the sun falls. If you’d like to, we could spend time painting what we see; I know you’re good at that. Even if I’m not so skilled, I’d like to see your perspective. Then we could get some real Italian food, and you’ll be able to tell the difference.”

              “I’d like that,” Miles said. He leaned in a little closer. “It will be possible, you know? Trust me.”

              It was quiet. Giorno furrowed his eyebrows. “Just so I’m clear…this is a confession, correct?”

              Miles nodded.

              “Good.”

              As quick as his heartbeat, Giorno leaned in and kissed him. Miles felt his face heat up as he kissed back, trying to keep calm and collected. He’d seen this happen in some of the tomes he read, but he had no idea if Giorno had felt the same way in this timeline.

              At least before anything went horribly wrong, he had this.

              Giorno slowly broke away. “Alright…I’ll stay with you, Miles. I swear.”

              “I’m happy to hear it,” Miles murmured. He got up, extending his hand to Giorno. “Now, let’s find a way out of here.”

“Sure you two can stop making out long enough to do that?”

Miles froze and turned his head. Standing in the corner were Danny, Zuko, and William. While Zuko and William had the common decency to look at either the ceiling or floor, Danny smirked at both of them.

“How long have you guys been here?” Miles asked.

“Long enough for all the dream vacation planning,” Danny said.

“We don’t have time for this,” Zuko said. “We need to get out of here.”

“How did you find us?” Giorno asked.

“Well, we decided to help Zuko when those weird girls showed up at the shrine. I…couldn’t hear their thoughts. It was making me uneasy,” William explained. He pointed at Miles and Giorno. “Now, your thoughts were loud and clear. That’s how we found you, well, that, and Danny’s ghost powers.”

“As conflicted as I am over how you found us, I’m still grateful,” Giorno said. He took Miles’s hand and got up. “Now, like Zuko said, we need to get going.”

Green flames rose around the walls of the room. Out from the shadows stepped Alastor, Vlad, and a third devilish man with giant red wings and regal clothing. Birds of a feather, Miles supposed.

“I suppose you’re not taking my deal?” Alastor asked.

“No,” Giorno said firmly. “Never again.”

“That’s a shame,” Alastor said. “Obviously, there’s no danger to you, seeing as you’re surrounded by your friends…and more.”

“Golden Experience!”

Alastor stepped backwards as Miles felt a gust of air whoosh past him. Alastor shook his head. “I’m not going to fight you. Like I said, there’s no point. Besides, we’ve already made sure you’ll make a deal eventually.”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked.

“You didn’t,” William murmured behind them. “All those people…you didn’t! You can’t!”

Giorno marched over to Alastor and grabbed him by his coat. “What did you do?”

“You’re not the only one who wants to know the contents of that book,” Alastor said. “I just provided the lists of the names of talisman holders to those who would value it most.” He glanced over Giorno’s shoulder. “Might want to let your friends, the ones who are in danger, know how much you’ve cost them.”

“MUDA!”

Alastor went flying backwards, blood dripped from his jaw. He rubbed the base of his chin, smiling and laughing maniacally as he disappeared. Vlad and the other man remained.

“You know Daniel,” Vlad spoke up. “I could help you, should you wish to join us. No one has to get hurt.”

“In your dreams, Vlad,” Danny shot back.

“I’m sure you’ll come to consider it,” the other man interjected. “When the vipers strike and you’re left poisoned and struggling to survive, you’ll find us to be the sweetest antidote.”

“Ew to literally everything that just came out of your mouth,” William said.

“Consider it.”

The two disappeared, leaving everyone confused, angry, depressed, or a combination of the three. William ran his hands through his hair. “This is bad! Really bad! They could be on their way to attack everyone now!”

“You’re right,” Giorno said. “I…don’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

“Giorno,” Zuko began. “What was on that list?”

“It was people who hold talismans in their hearts,” Giorno explained. He handed Zuko the book he had been carrying. “Might as well share it, since all of us are targets now.”

Zuko flipped through the pages, his eyes widening as he examined the names. After a few seconds, he slammed the book shut. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“That’s partially my fault,” William said, stepping in. “I thought if we hid the names, everyone could be safe, even if just for a little while. I should’ve known Alastor would make copies of the names.”

“He could be messing with you guys,” Danny spoke up. “Who’s to say that ‘list’ is accurate? Just because it was in the library, doesn’t mean they didn’t make it up.”

Giorno shook his head. “No. It’s real. I found memory tomes to make sure he wasn’t lying. It’s happened before.”

“Just because it’s happened before,” Zuko said. “Doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. I’ve got an idea.”

“Where to?” Danny asked.

“Still the same as before,” Zuko said. “If there’s anyone I know who can help us, it’s my uncle.”

Miles walked over to Giorno, unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to overwhelm him (more than he already was). He settled for grabbing his hand. “You made the right choice. Those guys just…”

“Had everything planned?” Giorno asked. “Now everyone is in danger because I didn’t take the deal.”

“Everyone is in trouble because Alastor is an ass,” Miles argued. “We’ll get through this. We’ll beat Alastor, Morlun, and your dad if they decide they want to hurt anybody, especially anyone from our group. Besides, I’m Spiderman, and you’re one of the toughest stand users in your world, right? It’ll work out.”

Giorno squeezed his hand. “I’d like to believe you’re right.”

…

Katara was taking a few minutes to play with Sobble. She’d befriended him at the festival, and now he had begun to follow her around the shrine. It was easy to teach him how to use his abilities, since they were both waterbenders. Although, the water gun was a little different from her usual offensive attacks. They’d gotten through that, and now they were practicing aqua jet. Now it was back to her lesson.

Today Ami was with her; the sailor senshi of water and intelligence wanted to study Katara’s techniques. It wasn’t in Katara’s nature to dismiss someone who wanted to learn. Ami brought her Seel with her; she and Sobble seemed to get along well. While they played and trained with each other, Katara brought out a copied waterbending scroll she learned long ago. They stood in front of the pond at the back of the shrine.

Katara pulled her arms inward, causing the water to roll the same way. Then she pushed the small waves she created outward. Rinse and repeat. “Natural water is controlled by the balance of the sun and the moon. Waterbenders, just like the sun and moon, push and pull water back and forth to bend. You try!”

Ami took a deep breath and tried the movements as Katara had. However, the water wasn’t budging. Ami’s face fell. “I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.”

“Your movements are a little rigid,” Katara said. “Try to go with the flow of the waves. If you keep up with them, they’ll keep up with you.”

Ami shook her head and tried again; her arms matching the pull of the water. It began to sway back and forth. Katara grinned. “That’s it! You’ve got it!”

“Really?” Ami paused and smiled. “Neat! I thought I’d never get it!”

“Honestly? I wasn’t that great when I first started,” Katara said. She sat down near the pond and gestured for Ami to do the same. She waved her hand inward and levitated a ball of water between them. Warping it into a small stream, she sent it zipping through the air, circled around the two of them, and then gently above the flowers in Rei’s garden. “You’ve got to be more fluid, no pun intended. Once you master that, waterbending is pretty easy. Though, it still takes a lot of practice.”

“Bending is so amazing,” Ami said. “Thank you, Katara. I promise I’m going to get better at this! I’ll study the techniques you’ve taught me several times a day!”

Seeing her so determined was kind of inspiring. “I’m sure you’ll be great at waterbending, Ami. Although…why did you want to learn waterbending specifically?”

“I…” Ami blushed. “Well, I want to be able to protect my friends.” She shut her eyes. “I know I’m not the strongest sailor guardian. When I went against Sailor Neptune a couple of weeks ago, I lost miserably. But you went up against her and protected Hunter. Scientifically speaking, your waterbending is more powerful than our abilities.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Katara said. “Not completely. Like I said, these things take lots of practice. And you’ve got a lot going on: you’re a scholar, a friend, and a warrior. It’s a lot to juggle. You’ve gotta find your balance.”

“Balance,” Ami repeated. She nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Oh look, there’s Usagi.”

True to Ami’s words, Usagi ran out of the shrine, grinning as though she’d just won the hugest Pai Sho match.

“Guys!” Usagi chirruped. “Haruka and Michiru offered to take the girls to the new spa so we can get ready for the party together!”

“That’s awfully generous,” Katara said. “How can they afford it?”

“Well Michiru’s a world-class violinist and Haruka is a famous racer,” Ami said. “They probably make decent money.”

“Who cares about all that?” Usagi asked, that grin never leaving her face. “It’s a free day of pampering!”

Usagi sometimes reminded her of Aang when they had first met. She was carefree, idealistic, and kind. Unfortunately, those traits could get her into trouble; after all, she’d been targeted by the daimon before. And if Usagi was a target…

“Are you sure we should be going off for that sort of thing right now?” Katara asked.

“It’ll be fine!” Usagi said. “The boys can handle themselves.”

Katara raised an eyebrow and glanced into the open doorframe of the shrine. Josuke, Joey, and Sokka were all fighting over the same bag of chips, despite there being other types on a table nearby.

“And who will win the chipmaggedon of 97?” Gus announced.

“It’s 95, actually,” Rei spoke up.

“Nuances,” Gus said dismissively. He continued with a grin. “Will it be the brains and the brawler from the Southern Water Tribe, Sokka? The luck-based strategist, Joey Wheeler? Or our heart and healer, Josuke Higashikata?”

“I never even got to try this flavor!” Joey argued.

“It’s my favorite, it should go to me,” Josuke argued.

“It ALWAYS goes to you!” Sokka griped.

One of Gus’s illusions popped into the middle of the fight, grabbing the bag of chips, disappearing, and handed it to the real Gus. “No! It goes the amazing, master-illusionist, Gus Porter!”

“HEY!”

Katara gestured to the scene. However, Usagi seemed determined. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Besides, Jotaro and Zuko will keep them in line.” She grabbed Katara and Ami’s arms. “C’mon! Please! It’ll be so fun!”

Her eyes were as wide and pleading as a baby saber-tooth moose lion cub.

“Fine,” Katara said with a sigh. “But only because we need to make sure everyone stays safe at that party.”

“Yay!” Usagi said, hugging Katara. “Thank you! I can’t wait to spend time with you guys! It’s gonna be so much fun without…you know…all the noise.”

Katara blushed. “That’s fair. They can be a little…loud.”

“Oh right! I forgot to mention something,” Usagi said. “Haruka and Michiru said they wanted to visit the library first. So, we’ll go there, and then to the new spa!”

“The library?” Katara asked. “That might be good for us, too.”

“Don’t tell me Ami’s gotten to you,” Usagi said.

“You could do with a little more studying, Usagi,” Ami said. “Besides, Katara is right. We could use this time to make sure there’s no new attacks in our near future.”

“You two have got to lighten up,” Usagi said. “I can see this spa day is critical.”

Katara laughed. “You know Usagi, sometimes you really do remind me of Aang.”

…

“Hey Chibiusa,” the Collector spoke up. “Who’s the pie for? Looks awesome! Can I have some?”

“No,” Chibiusa said a little more quickly than she intended. When the Collector looked hurt, she blushed. “Sorry, it’s just that I worked really hard on this, and this is my third attempt. Those jerks with the big gullets already ate the other two I made with Arven and Yugi.”

“Oh,” the Collector said. “Older people can be so greedy, right, King?”

“I don’t know,” King said. “I’m usually the one who eats a lot of food at home.”

“I remember,” the Collector said. “You ate like so many pizza bagels. I thought Mamadalia was going to flip out.”

“Some mom she was,” King said sarcastically.

“Yeah…”

The three were on their way to their new art class. King had been staying over to visit Luz and her friends. Plus, he seemed to like Jotaro (even if he was kinda scary to Chibiusa). Since the Collector wanted to stay with King, he ended up visiting the shrine a lot, too. Ash and Lillie didn’t want to take lessons, but Frisk had said they would show up a little later. They needed to do something first.

Why did the Collector look so sad, anyway? Who was Mamdalia? Well, she wasn’t anything like stupid Usagi; she knew it was impolite to pry. Still, she was curious.

“So, who’s the pie for?” King asked.

“U-Um, well, it’s for someone special,” Chibiusa stammered.

“Like a best buddy?” the Collector asked. He turned to King. “You never made me any pies. Why does her best friend get a pie?”

“I think the person she’s talking about is a little more than just a buddy,” King guessed (annoyingly correct). “Besides, I’d need help, and Eda has a tendency to make the ingredients for pie walk out the door.”

“That makes sense…maybe we can get Arven and Yugi to help us, too,” the Collector suggested.

“They might,” Chibiusa said. “They’re really nice.”

They walked on until they reached the rec center. There he was: Masanori Tsuzuki, Chibiusa’s crush. He made such beautiful sculptures; she wanted to get to know him better, at least. He was holding a bouquet of roses; there were so many, and they were so beautiful!

She wondered if she was lucky enough to be the one they were…

And then Mr. Wright showed up with Miss Fey and her cousin, Pearl. Masanori’s face fell. Who had he been expecting?

And then Chibiusa remembered that Michiru usually taught the class.

He was going to give those roses to Michiru!

“Where’s Miss Kaiou?” Masanori asked.

“Well, she’s absent today, but Pearls didn’t want to miss the class,” Mr. Wright explained. “And I was an art major before I went into law, so I agreed to help, just this once.”

Darn that Michiru!

Well, she wasn’t here today. So, Chibiusa had an opportunity to get closer to Masanori. It would be fine!

“Nick, Mystic Maya, these are my new friends,” Pearl said, dragging the taller lawyer and his shorter mystic assistant with her. “This is the Collector, Chibiusa, and King!”

“I’ve actually met King,” Mr. Wright said. “His mom used to stay with me. How is Eda doing?”

“Pretty good, we’ve been staying with Raine,” King said.

“Although, you could just live with us,” the Collector said. “I mean, the castle is huge, and there’s no way any of those monsters can get in there! It’s in the sky!”

“I don’t know,” King said. “I kind of like living with just Raine and Eda. It’s like we get to be a family now.”

“Oh…sorry.”

There it was again! That sadness. It was kind of familiar; like how she felt when no one wanted to be near her in the thirtieth century: extreme loneliness.

               “I didn’t know you had friends from other universes, Chibiusa,” Masanori said.

              Chibiusa smiled. “Yeah! We’ve been getting along well!”

              “That’s great,” Masanori said with a hesitant smile. “But…I don’t know…I don’t wanna scare anybody.”

              “I haven’t been scared yet,” the Collector bragged. “The monsters here are kind of boring compared to the Boiling Isles.”

              “Sounds scary,” Pearl commented.

              “It’s not that bad,” King said. “I mean, there’s a lot of good witches and demons there, too.”

              “Not like the witches here,” Chibiusa said.

              “Definitely not.”

              “Hey guys!”

              Wally, Mokuba, Bede, Silver, Syaoran, Sakura, Hop, Hau, and Toph walked over to the group. Mr. Wright raised an eyebrow. “I thought you two,” he gestured to Hop and Hau, “said you weren’t into art.”

              “Toph convinced us to come,” Hop said. He leaned closer to the group. “There could be witches anywhere.”

              “I sure hope not,” Masanori said, almost looking as though someone had walked over his grave.

              Chibiusa panicked. Hop was going to scare off Masanori! She pushed him away from her crush, laughing a little. “He’s joking! Hop’s a kidder.”

              “But there are witches everywhere,” Wally said. “It’s pretty spooky.”

              Masanori scratched the back of his neck. “It’s getting pretty late. We should go inside now.”

              With that, he sped off into the building. Chibiusa turned to the others in a huff. “Great going, guys! Now Masanori will never talk to me again!”

              “That’s probably just as well,” Mokuba shrugged. “Artists don’t make much money.”

              “Shows what you know!” Chibiusa argued. “Art is a beautiful expression of oneself! I can’t believe you would say something like that, Mokuba!”

              Mokuba flinched, like he’d been stung. Chibiusa was too mad to care.

              “He is related to Kaiba, cut him some slack,” Hop said with a grin.

              “And you!” Chibiusa said, pointing a finger at Hop. “You’re the reason Masanori ran off in the first place! I can’t believe you’d scare him like that! Don’t you have a brain?”

              “Hey! I was just trying to be honest!”

              King tapped her shoulder. “Chibiusa, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh?”

              Chibiusa looked around. Her friends did look hurt, but so was she! She’d had to deal with Usagi, Josuke, and Okuyasu’s thoughtlessness this morning. She didn’t need the same from her friends. She shook her head and ran inside.

              …

              It was awkward. They were sitting together. But how was he supposed to navigate a relationship with Miles? Is that what they had? True, he’d wanted this. Now that he had it, he felt more vulnerable and worried than ever. The others were talking, a bit somberly. This world was nothing but painful for him. He was marred by failure here. In Italy, he was reminded of those who never made it home, sure. However, there was still some light mixed with the loss. Here, in Tokyo, he was constantly making mistakes. He thought it had been a good idea to keep Alastor a secret. That didn’t work; it almost and may cost Miles his life. He thought he didn’t have any family; it turns out he had one and he’d just endangered them. He thought keeping the list of talisman holders was a good idea; now almost everyone knew who had a talisman.

              “Giorno?” Miles asked. “You doing okay?”

              Giorno shook his head, but he didn’t say anything. What was there to say?

              “Uncle,” Zuko began. The older man was very hospitable. He seemed kind. It was clear Zuko trusted him, and that didn’t seem to be something so lightly gained. He had made them some tea and sat down with them to discuss the situation. “We’re not sure what to do next. We don’t even know who knows about the talisman holders now. We’ve got to protect everyone, but there may not be any time!”

              Iroh looked at the list, perhaps trying to come up with a plan of action. His eyes widened and his brow furrowed when he looked further down. “Nephew…it says…”

              “I know,” Zuko said, shutting his eyes. “But I can’t think about that. I’ve gotta think about what’s best for everyone. What happens next could be because of us.”

              His uncle sighed. “I know you want what’s best for everyone, Zuko. It’s what makes you a good leader. However, I think this situation calls for help from those who have years of experience.”

              “Experience in fighting monsters?” Danny asked.

              “Fighting evil,” Iroh corrected.

              “We can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Danny objected.

              “I’m not saying that!” Iroh said. “I’m just saying that it shouldn’t be wholly up to any one group to defeat your opponent. Those who would try and end the lives of so many people should be brought to justice by the people.”

              “What if they already have a way of getting to them?” Giorno questioned. “What if it’s already too late?”

              “If you allow yourself to think it’s too late, then it will be,” Iroh said. He stood up. “I, for one, do not believe fate is so harshly determined. Perhaps help will come from the likeliest and unlikeliest of places.”

              “Will you help us, Uncle?” Zuko asked.

              “Of course,” Iroh said. “As will others. You merely need to ask.”

              Giorno turned away. A heartwarming family moment wasn’t exactly what he needed to see right now. He looked at Miles; he was staring out of the window, as though he were searching for someone.

              “Morlun or Miguel?” Giorno guessed, keeping his voice so the others wouldn’t intrude on their conversation.

              “Both…and more,” Miles admitted. “Also, what you said and…did…are you sure?”

              Giorno paused and looked at the table. “I don’t try to lie about my feelings on things. Granted, I’m not generally an open person, and this is all new to me. I’ve never cared about someone like this before. However, I… like you, Miles. You were kind to me, even when I wasn’t very honest with anyone. You talked to me, shared your music with me, you treated me as a friend, like someone who had someone who cared about him for once. And you saved my life. I will do anything to make sure you and your family stay safe during all this.”

              When he turned back to look at Miles, he looked like he was going to cry. What had he messed up now?

              “Thanks, Giorno. I’m glad someone sees me that way,” Miles murmured. “And I’m glad it’s you. I like you a lot, too.” He paused and turned to Giorno. “I’ll be real with you; if this is an official thing we’re doing, then this is the first time I’ve ever been in a relationship. I never thought I’d be able to trust anyone again until we became friends. And…I think you’re one of the coolest people I know. You took on a demon several times, you run…your own business, you help protect people who can’t protect themselves, and you’ve looked out for me ever since I got here. You kept me safe when I didn’t even know it, and I don’t want you to have to do this alone anymore. I’m going to help you, and we’re both getting out of this. I’m not letting Alastor, your father, or anyone hurt you ever again.”

              He was always looking out for himself. Was it okay for him to accept Miles’s offer? This would be the first time he established something with someone without materialistic reciprocity. Miles thought he was someone good, and he liked him for who he was. Their connection was genuine; it was heartwarming and terrifying. He might not have known how to approach this, but he was going to try his damndest.

              “Well, look who it is.”

              Giorno rolled his eyes. Astarion, along with his partner, Tav, the wizard, Gale of Waterdeep, and the patriarch of the Joestars, Jonathan Joestar walked over to their table.

              “Yes?” Giorno asked, raising an eyebrow.

              “Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” Astarion said.

              “Not to fear,” Gale said, almost-knowingly. “I checked. We are the only other people in this shop.”

              “Are you sure?” Zuko asked.

              Gale nodded. “I cast detection to make sure we were the only ones here.”

              “Well, what do you want?” Giorno asked.

              “Is that any way to talk to those who want to help?” Astarion countered with a smirk. He turned to Zuko. “Curiosity, who’s on that list?”

              “I don’t trust you,” Zuko said bluntly, clutching the list tighter.

              “I’m hurt,” Astarion said, holding his hand over his heart.

              “They really do just want to help,” William spoke up. “If they had any intention of hurting anyone, I would’ve been able to hear it.”

              “Maybe we can trust the psychic,” Miles said. “Besides, Gale has helped us a lot.”

              Gale did a small bow. “I am a wizard of the people.”

              Tav and Astarion scoffed.

              “No need to be so rude.”

              The four sat down at their table. Wonderful. Giorno was tempted to leave, but he might as well hear what they had to say.

              “We’ve got a plan for countering your vampire problems,” Tav said. “There’s two enemies down.”

              “Are we going to be allowed to know what the plan is?” Danny asked.

              Tav shook their head. “It might not work, and if it falls into the wrong hands, it definitely won’t.”

              “Great plan,” Danny said. “It might not even work.”

              “You try to counter a vampire who is literally only allergic to radiant energy and another who can stop time!” Tav argued. “I swear Cazador was easier to beat than these bastards.”

              Astarion frowned. “I’d argue that point, but you did tear him apart.”

              Tav paused. “I did not mean to make light of your past, Astarion.”

              “I know, love,” Astarion said.

              “The point is,” Jonathan interrupted. “Dio isn’t a threat to be taken lightly.”

              He turned to Giorno, making his stomach sink. “Giorno, whatever he has promised you is a boldfaced lie.”

              “Do you think I’m an idiot?” Giorno asked. “I know that, and I don’t need you to tell me.”

              “Shut up and listen,” Astarion hissed. Tav moved to stop him. “No, I’m not staying quiet on this. You want to push everyone away who tries to help you? Be my guest. You stay alone, you’ll die alone. Your father will find you, and he will make you an immortal whether you want to be or not. Much more than that, those you loved or cared about become his playthings! You’ll endanger everyone if you don’t take what’s being offered to you now. If there’s one thing you can take as truth from me, it’s this: you’ll never get your life back if you lose your humanity, Giorno Giovanna.”

              Giorno stood up, ready to fight him. How dare he! How dare he…he…Astarion didn’t know anything. His blood felt like it was boiling; he hadn’t been this mad since he fucked up Cioccolata. Yes, he knew Astarion was a vampire, and he might or might not have some experience in this field, but Tav also said the vampire they fought was weaker than Morlun and his father. It wasn’t the same. He had no idea what kind of pressure he was under! He had managed to stay cool and collected through everything: a shitty childhood, taking down powerful stand users in the mob, dealing with a demon who slowly sapped his life away, and finally finding someone worth protecting whose life was in immense danger!

              “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I—we want to help you,” Jonathan said. “I know what it’s like to feel like your whole world is falling in on itself.”

              Giorno started to walk away. “You have no idea what my life is like.”

              “Giorno!” he heard Jonathan protest.

              “No,” Iroh’s voice cut through. “He needs some time to think this over.”

              “Alone?” Miles asked. “Giorno, you can’t. There’s…”

              “Miles, please,” Giorno said. “I just need some time to think things through. I promise, I’ll meet you at that gala tonight.”

              “Alright…”

              He sounded hurt and dejected enough to almost make him turn around, but he couldn’t. He needed to calm down and think of a way to beat Morlun, DIO, Alastor, and any other fucker on his own.

              …

              He was sure he’d seen him again. His hands were shaking, even as he tried to steady them when he took a sip of tea. He hadn’t told Franziska. He wasn’t sure what to tell Franziska, and Phoenix wasn’t home. He was all alone in his apartment; Bucciarati and Abbachio had left to go investigate an old warehouse for some sort of monster, and Franziska was out shopping for food. He had no one to tell that Manfred Von Karma was back from the dead.

              He’d been walking the streets of Tokyo, meeting with Miss Skye to discuss the forensics she performed on a personal project he’d discussed with no one. It might pay off eventually, but now he had bigger problems. Von Karma had almost blended into the crowd, and if the man didn’t regularly haunt his nightmares, he might’ve missed him. The worst part was when they locked eyes, the latter smirked and disappeared. It was almost identical to his nightmares.

              So now he was doing his best to calm down. Surely Franziska would return soon, and they could form a plan of action.

              That’s when he heard a loud knock on his door. He almost fell out of his chair. The knocking persisted. What should he do? Did he have a weapon to pry it open? The knocks were getting louder—more impatient. They had vast amounts of technology and numbers on their side! Should he open it and get it over with? What did he want, anyways?

              “Hey nerd!” a familiar, non-Von Karma voice called out. “You in there? Your boyfriend asked us to check up on you.”

              Miles marched to the door and glared at Eda the Owl Lady and her partner, Raine.

              “Geez, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Eda commented.

              “Something like that,” Edgeworth muttered. “Come in and have a seat. Could I get you some tea?”

              “That sounds nice,” Raine said. They took a seat while Eda plopped down next to them. “Is everything okay, Mr. Edgeworth?”

              Edgeworth poured a cup of tea and handed it to Raine, not looking at them. “It’s nothing.”

              “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Eda said. “C’mon, spill, what’s up?”

              Edgeworth sighed. “It’s a long story, and I’d rather not get anyone else involved.”

              “Doesn’t help anyone to keep it bottled up,” Raine said. “Besides, we’re in our ‘helping each other out era.’ Or, at least, that’s how Luz put it.”

              “Is that really how the children talk in 2024?” Edgeworth asked.

              “Maybe everyone talks like that, and you’re just out of the loop,” Eda said.

              “In any case,” Raine interjected. “We need to be open and honest with each other. We don’t want anyone to get hurt by something we could’ve dealt with earlier on.”

              “I don’t suppose you’re being specific to anyone’s situation?” Edgeworth mused.

              Raine sighed. “I hate that the kids didn’t think they could trust us to help them. They seem dead set on handling things by themselves. I’m afraid they’re going to get into a lot of trouble being stubborn.”

              “Not that you’d know anything about stubborn people, Rainstorm,” Eda teased.

              “Surely not,” Raine said sarcastically.

              Their affection for each other was terribly saccharine, but also something he himself wanted to be able to express eventually. He loved Wright, but sometimes it felt like he could do more, like something involving love and care was broken. He often wondered if Phoenix would have preferred to been with someone who could show him their affection more clearly.

              “Hey!”

              Edgeworth looked back up at Eda and Raine; both seemed even more concerned now.

              “You were staring off into space. What’s going on?” Eda asked.

              “I thought I saw someone I knew,” Edgeworth said. “Twice now. He’s supposed to be dead. However, given how the dead have been given a second chance at life, I believe it might be more than merely ‘seeing things.’ I think my old mentor, my father’s murderer, has risen from the grave.”

              Eda and Raine were quiet for a moment, taking in his words.

              “What do you suppose he wants?” Eda asked. “Was he a witch? Demon? Tyrant with an invisible, punchy-ghost?”

              “He was a prosecutor,” Miles said. “His record of being beaten was only beaten by one defense attorney.”

              “Let me guess,” Eda said. “Phoenix?”

              Edgeworth nodded. “I’m worried. Even if Wright doesn’t have a talisman, they said they needed hearts to fuel some sort of grand plan, and his was unusually bright. What if he…”

              “Look, we’re not gonna let that happen,” Eda said. “I mean, Phoenix was kind enough to let us stay with him when we had nowhere else to go.”

              “Exactly,” Raine agreed. “In fact, we’ve got a plan to get rid of a lot of the threats lingering out there. Perhaps, he’s in league with the Deathbusters. We might be able to get rid of them all in one fell swoop.”

              “What’s the plan?” Miles asked.

              “It’s top secret,” Eda said. “If someone infiltrates your mind, you wouldn’t be as aware. No offense, but you’re not a human with magic.”

              “I suppose Luz knows, then.”

              “Actually, we’re not involving the kids.”

              “Not that I don’t agree with your morality, but isn’t that slightly hypocritical?” Miles asked.

              “They’ve gone through enough,” Eda said. “They shouldn’t have to defeat an entire shadow organization. They could get hurt.”

              “I’d like to help,” Edgeworth said. “Perhaps I can’t do magic, but there must be some way I can help put a stop to this!”

              “No,” Eda said. “You’ve already done enough by telling us about your mentor. We can handle the rest from here.”

              “But Wright, his life, I want to fight for him just as much as you want to protect your loved ones!”

              His sincerity had even caught himself off guard. Raine and Eda seemed too stunned to respond. Edgeworth readjusted his cravat and cleared his throat. “Apologies. I lost my composure for a moment. I would just like to make sure he remains safe.”

              “Don’t worry,” Eda said. “We’ll keep him safe and you, too. Don’t be so quick to discount yourself, Edgy-boy.”

              He hadn’t given much thought to that point: what if Von Karma ignored Wright entirely? What if to get to Phoenix he sought revenge on Edgeworth first? In any case, they were both in a decent amount of danger.

              Edgeworth fished an older picture out of his wallet. It had been from a time when he was garnering his reputation as the Demon Prosecutor. He stood stiffly beside Von Karma, finally being recognized for all his hard work. It had been everything he had ever wanted, and he didn’t stop to question why he felt so hollow in that moment, until Phoenix stumbled back into his life.

              “This is Von Karma. If you see him, let me know.”

              “Kind of looks like a good gust of wind would blow him over,” Eda commented.

              “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Edgeworth mused. “The man carried a bullet in his shoulder for years.”

              “You do realize Belos was hundreds of years old, pretty much the embodiment of a living curse; we beat him,” Raine pointed out.

              “Isn’t he alive again?”

              “And we’ll get rid of him again,” Eda said, a little tersely. She sighed and smoothed her hair. “Please, just leave this up to us. We can handle it.”

              As much as he wanted to believe them, Edgeworth wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t believed in such redundant and basic concepts like ‘good vs evil’ before now, but it seemed to him that evil was among them, and no matter how good tried, evil seemed to be oddly overpowered.

              …

              Joseph flipped through the tomes in front of him. None of this added up. It seemed to him that Miles’ situation was steeped in coincidence rather than causation. Yeah, if there’s a villain who can literally tear apart timelines opposing him, it would serve to say the timelines would get a little messy. He was surprised DIO hadn’t ripped any holes in time with all his shenanigans. For all he knew, he probably did, they just hadn’t suffered the effects yet.

              Given Jotaro wasn’t getting into any fights with Giorno, it could be that he wasn’t evil. However, there was the possibility that Jotaro didn’t even know. In which case, he needed to find Jotaro as soon as possible to warn him.

              The table in the middle of the library was taken up by a skeleton, a woman with pale skin, pinkish hair, and clothes that looked like they were actually a part of her body, a man with wiry, brunette hair, tan trench coat, and pinstripe suit, a woman with dark hair, magenta jacket, t-shirt, and jeans, and a man with a regal gray shirt tucked underneath a red vest, slacks, and red sunglasses fixed over top of his graying hair. There was one chair left at the table, and he was tired of standing and reading. He casually strode over to the group.

              “Do you all mind if I take a seat here?”

              “Of course, take a seat,” the pale woman said. Joseph was now able to note she had a giant gemstone—no—a pearl in the middle of her forehead. Bizarrely enough, she still struck him as more normal than most enemy stand users.

              “What’s your name?” the man in the vest asked.

              “Joseph,” he said, trying to play casual. No need to give out too much information, especially with the probability of DIO pawns being out there. “And you?”

              “My name is Stolas,” the man said with a small bow. “What brings you to this place, Joseph?”

              “i was gonna ask the same thing,” the skeleton spoke up. “kinda wondering what your thoughts on all these monsters are.”

              “Obviously they’re terrible,” Joseph said. “What else am I supposed to say to that?”

              “then, why don’t you and o’hara focus more on them rather than some kid?”

              Joseph narrowed his eyes at the skeleton. “Who are you?”

              “casual observer,” he said. “you can call me sans.”

              “What do you know about me? Do you work for DIO?”

              “do i look like i got a fleshbud in my skull?”

              “Some help him because they want to,” Joseph argued.

              “why would i want to? so he could kill a good majority of the people in this broken timeline? d’ya think i’m a numbskull?”

              “So,” Joseph asked, furrowing his eyebrow a little bit. “Why do you seem so opposed to what O’Hara is doing?”

              “because he’s got it all wrong. the kid isn’t gonna cause some collapse of a timeline by saving his dad. what destroys the timeline is determination of an absolutely unstoppable force. i should know.”

              “Well,” the man in the pinstripe suit interjected. “It depends entirely on the event and universe. Should one try to change something that has already happened, yes, it could very well rip apart the fabric of space-time. However, the event hasn’t happened, and given where we are, I’m not sure it ever will. All of reality could be destroyed because we’re all here, together.”

              “As depressing as he’s put it,” Stolas said. “He’s correct. I’ve studied my grimoire, but none of these events should be happening. Quite frankly, these universes should’ve imploded upon themselves many moons ago.”

              “Well, who are you three? You seem to know more than O’Hara does, even with his technology,” Joseph said.

              “His ventures are quite noble for a human,” the man in the suit said. Stolas, the pearl-woman, and sans nodded in agreement.

              “Quite condescending, aren’t ya?” Joseph asked.

              “You get used to it,” the woman in the magenta jacket spoke up. “He’s the Doctor, by the way. And I’m Martha Jones.”

              “Nice to meet you, I guess.” Joseph shook his head. “What I don’t get is this: if you three know so much, how come you haven’t been able to solve this mess?”

              “We’re all unique in the sense that we recall some memories of this mismatched world,” the pearl-woman said. “But everything involving major events has been completely wiped away.”

              “It’s as if there’s a block, preventing us from remembering,” the Doctor said thoughtfully. He wasn’t staring at anyone in particular, which was messing with Joseph more than it should have. “What are you doing with your fingers?”

              Joseph glanced down to the table. He’d just been tapping his fingers against the table. He didn’t understand what the big deal was. It might’ve made a little more noise, given his prosthetic, but it shouldn’t have been anything for alarm.

              “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your genius,” Joseph said sarcastically. “We humans have to do something to weather boring conversations.”

              “you didn’t seem too bored to me.”

              “Hmph.”

              “If I might ask,” Martha spoke up. “Who is O’Hara?”

              “Someone who I thought had good intentions,” Joseph said. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

              “His intentions might be ‘good,’ but good intentions are only good if the person knows the outcome,” Martha said.

              “Spoken like a true medical student,” the Doctor said.

              “Given I’m one of two humans here, I think I can speak better on the human condition than most others here,” Martha said. “Most of us have done something we thought good, noble even, only for it to blow up in our faces. It’s a part of life. Could be that your friend thinks he’s in the right, when in all actuality, he doesn’t have enough information to make an informed decision.”

              Joseph gave her a smile. “Could be that you’re right, Miss Jones. Could be that I’ve been played for a fool.”

              “Not a fool,” Martha said. “We’re human. The best part of that is our lack of staunchness. We’re more flexible to change and adaptability.”

              Joseph scratched his chin. “You make a good point.”

              He stood up. “Thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think on.”

              As Joseph exited the library, a group of teenage girls passed him by. Some of them seemed familiar. Not that Jotaro would know any of them; his grandson wasn’t overly fond of girls. They probably didn’t know him.

              In any case, he had his new mission now. He’d talk to Speedwagon, and they’d decide what to do next.

              …

              As everyone filed into the library, Katara wondered why they were here. True, she had convinced Sokka to give her some of the books he’d taken back, so it was kind of convenient, but why did Haruka and Michiru want to come here?

              As though, reading her mind, Michiru spoke up. “We attend the Infinity Academy together. Our midterms are coming up soon, so we’re just picking up some books for our papers. We won’t be but a little while. In the meantime, I encourage you to check out some of the literary classics: Twain, Dickens, Thoreau. For those of you unfamiliar with our world, some of the best realism writers might help you understand it.”

              Haruka laughed and shook her head. “Or you could always read some manga. Way more fun.”

              “Haruka,” Michiru warned. “I’m trying to help them. What do you think their interpretation of the world will be if they pick up Berserk?”

              “That the world is full of liars, and we should never trust anyone? I don’t know, seems like a pretty good lesson to me.”

              “You’re quite the cynic, Haruka,” Amity commented.

              Haruka shrugged. “Losing your parents will do that to you.”

              “Oh,” Amity stammered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

              “Don’t worry,” Haruka said. “It was a long time ago, and Michiru and I have each other’s backs.”

              “That’s so sweet!” Luz commented.

              Except for the parental death part, yeah.

              “You girls wait here,” Michiru said. “We won’t be long.”

              They disappeared to the upper levels of the library. Ami explained there were a lot of autobiographies up there. Although, the blue-haired senshi did express an interest in learning who they were writing about.

              Katara broke away from the group and walked into the secret library. Others were leaving just as she got inside. She recognized the Doctor and Martha Jones. The woman with the pearl in the middle of her forehead was new, but Stolas was not. He seemed concerned, as though he’d misplaced something.

              He looked to Katara, “Ah-um-hello! Would you mind terribly keeping an eye out for my Via? I can’t seem to find her. She was in the secret library with me, but she must’ve went off somewhere at some point.”

              “I’ll see if I can find her,” Katara said.

              “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

              Katara walked into the room, placing the books onto a cart for return. “There. Hopefully that’s the end of that.”

              If Kaiba returned his ill-gotten books, then that would be the end of it. However, that wasn’t very likely. She was still a little mad, even if he had apologized. He should have never mentioned bloodbending. If he was truly as smart as he claimed to be and done all this research on them, he would’ve known how taboo a subject it was to discuss. The only times she’d ever used bloodbending was to prevent Aang and Sokka from getting hurt by Hama’s bloodbending and when she thought she’d found her mother’s murderer. She never wanted to use it again.

              From the corner of the library, she could hear sniffles. She walked over to the corner of the library and saw Via huddled up with her face buried in her arms.

              “Via? You okay?”

              She looked up, tears still in her eyes. “He said he’d spend time with me today. He spent the entire day reading and debating with all those other people. No matter where we are, my dad always ignores me.”

              “He seems really upset that you’re missing,” Katara countered.

              “Then why does he keep ignoring me? It’s always like this! He promises to spend time with me until he finds something better to do!”

              “That does sound pretty bad,” Katara agreed. She was quiet for a minute before deciding what to say next, “You know, my father was away at war for a long time. My brother and I didn’t see him again until we found Aang.”

              “Is this some story where you’re going to make me feel bad for being mad at my dad?” Via asked.

              Katara shook her head. “Actually, I was mad at my dad. Even if I realized that that he was out trying to make the world better. I knew what he was doing was important, but I couldn’t help but feeling like we needed him, too. I was pretty angry at him when we found him again.” She turned to Via. “I think it’s okay to be angry. But don’t lose yourself in your own anger. Maybe you can have fun here without him.”

              “But my dad knows so much more about the human world than I do,” Via argued. “The last time I came here, people were so mean. They shoved me around, called me names, and screamed in my face.”

              Katara felt bad for this girl. It was obvious she needed someone to help her out. Well, she didn’t have to look any further. Katara stood up and held out her hand. “Hey, I was new here, too. I still don’t understand some stuff, like the arcade or the fascination with malls, but I’m with a pretty good group. Do you want to hang out with us for a little while? We’re getting makeovers and going to a formal dance today.”

              Via looked as though she’d been offered the world. She nodded and grabbed Katara’s hand. “Thank you. It…would be nice to make a friend here.”

              “You can consider me one, then,” Katara said with a smile.

              As they made their way to the others, the door to the entrance swung open. A very tall and built man, hunched over, walked into the secret library, brushing past the girls. It’s like he didn’t even notice them. The strong scent of iron followed him; it was then Katara noticed the trail of blood following the man who had collapsed against a bookshelf.

              “We should…help him?” Via guessed.

              Katara nodded and rushed over to the man. She did a cursory glance over his wounds. The skin across his abdomen had been cut. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t heal, but it would cause problems if she didn’t do anything. She whipped out a steady stream of water from the cantina strapped to her side and held it over the man’s wounds.

              The man looked up at her. “Who are you?”

              “My name is Katara. I’m a waterbender. Don’t worry, I’ll have this healed soon.”

              “G-gracias.”

              Thank you. Luz had taught her that.

              “If you don’t mind me asking, how did this happen?”

              “It’s…complicated,” the man muttered. He hissed as one of the wounds began to seal itself shut. “How’d you learn you could do that?”

              “I healed myself,” Katara said, preferring to leave out the details of what happened when Aang first tried to learn firebending.

              “It’s remarkable,” the man said. “I wish I had that sort of ability. Seems all I’m good for lately is destroying stuff.”

              “You know, that’s what Master Jeong Jeong said about his firebending when he saw I could do this,” Katara said. “I’m sure destruction isn’t the only thing you’re good at. Unless…you’re one of those witches who likes to take pure hearts.”

              “No, I’m not a witch,” the man said. “I’m just a guy trying to do his best to keep everything from falling apart. If that means getting mauled by a vampire, so be it.”

              “DIO or Morlun?” Katara asked.

              The man paused. He narrowed his eyes at her. “The latter. How do you know about Morlun?”

              Katara froze. She wasn’t sure who this man was, he could be anyone. She needed to tread carefully. “Some people in our group were infected by some sort of spider-totem. We did our research here to find out what that meant and why Morlun wanted to attack them.”

              The man took in her words and nodded. “And who’s in your group?”

              “The girls out there,” Katara said. “Why?”

              “No reason,” the man said. “Are you sure that’s the entirety of your group?”

              Katara nodded. Via should know she was lying, but she didn’t give it away. She’d have to thank her later. “Although Toph is staying with Mr. Wright. She’s our friend, too.”

              “The Blind Bandit, no?” the man asked. “She’s in quite a few of these books.”

              “That sounds about right,” Katara said, rolling her eyes.

              The man laughed. “You don’t seem surprised.”

              Katara sighed. “No. I’m not. If you ever meet her, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

              “Maybe I will,” the man said. “I’m sure I’ll see more of you and your group around. It’d be a shame to waste your healing powers just on me.”

              Why did that sound like a promise…or a threat?

              “I didn’t catch it,” Katara said. “What’s your name?”

              “My name is Miguel O’Hara.”

              Katara’s heart dropped. She’d been helping Miles’s biggest threat this whole time. She almost slipped up and dropped her smile. No, that wouldn’t do any good. She just needed to finish healing him and get out of here as quickly as possible. So, she did so.

              “Alright, you should be good to go.”

              “I feel better already,” Miguel said. “Thank you, Katara. Don’t waste that gift you’ve got.”

              “I haven’t,” Katara said. “And I’ll continue to use it.”

              “Good.”

              “We have to go,” Katara said. “The others are waiting for us. C’mon, Via.”

              “Hasta luego.”

              She knew that one, too. And she hoped to the moon spirit above that she wouldn’t.

              …

              Giorno was just trying to clear his head. He’d clear his head and rejoin the others. Everything would be fine. He had to keep everything in check. He would not let his emotions get the best of him.

              He sat on a park bench; the weather had turned colder. It was fall now. He wondered how much time he’d spend in this world before he went back home. He knew Kaiba, along with Miles, and a few of the others who were more technologically adept were trying to get everyone home, back to the time and place they had left.

              Now everything was more complicated. He cared about Miles, and he would make sure no harm came to him, but the danger kept increasing. He didn’t know if he could stop it.

              “Hey.”

              He glanced up, ready to fight. It was just that Steven kid from the Kaolinite incident. Giorno rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “What?”

              “Whoa!” the boy said, sticking up his hands defensively. “You just looked like you were upset. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

              “Oh, I’m just fine,” Giorno said sarcastically.

              “Uh-huh,” Steven said. He sat down on the bench next to Giorno, “Then I guess you don’t mind if I take a seat, huh?”

              Giorno felt his eye twitch. “That’s fine.”

              They sat in silence for a minute. Was he expecting a conversation? He glanced over at Steven who seemed to be content looking at his phone, grinning at some text someone had sent him. It was that girl who’d been locked away with him and the others.

              “You know,” Steven interjected. “Eavesdropping on someone’s conversation, even if it’s just texts, is considered rude.”

              “…my apologies.”

              It was halfhearted, but that’s all he could manage right now.

              “It’s cool,” Steven said. “Connie was just telling me about some formal she was going to tonight. Apparently, Kaiba thinks it’s a deathtrap. What do you think?”

              “It could be,” Giorno admitted. “That’s partly why we’re going today.”

              “Oh, so everyone else is going, too?” Steven asked. Giorno nodded. “Hey, at least that should be fun!”

              “Yeah, fun,” Giorno scoffed.

              “Do you not like stuff like that?” Steven asked.

              “It’s not that in particular,” Giorno said. “It’s complicated.”

              “…It’s the monsters, right?”

              Giorno laughed without any humor. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that: do you mean the daimon who are after a laundry list of people’s pure hearts? The two sailor guardians who are after the same thing for some fucking reason. There’s also a group of demons wanting me to make a contract with them to guarantee everyone’s safety, God knows what happens to me! No—wait—what about fact that my father wants to turn me into a monster who will kill every single family member I never knew I had until I came to this place? Or, the other vampire who wants to consume the souls of everyone with a spider totem, which just so happens to roundabout to the whole demon-contract thing again. And for some fucking reason, it’s all tying back to me and the person I really care about.”

              He hadn’t meant to lose his composure. But, once it was all out there, he realized maybe his tirade was a bit justified. At least, Steven’s shocked face was sort of a confirmation bias.

              “Wow…that does sound like a lot,” Steven said after a moment. “Are you trying to deal with this by yourself?”

              “Yes,” Giorno said quickly. “No one else needs to be involved.”

              “You realize you’re gonna burn yourself out doing that, right?”

              “Then what do you suggest?” Giorno snapped. “I’m not involving Miles in this.”

              “Does Miles know that?” Steven asked. “Did you talk to him about this—about how overwhelmed you are? Kind of seems like a conversation you need to have, or at least try to have. Because you can’t do this alone, and you can’t leave him in the dark.”

              “What do you know?”

              “I know that when I tried to do the same thing you did, it nearly destroyed my relationship with Connie. She was so mad at me when I tried to take Homeworld on by myself. She didn’t talk to me for weeks. And honestly? She had every right. We both had been training, we could’ve come up with a better plan together. I just went off and did what I thought was best.” He paused, seeming downtrodden by the memory. “It can feel like the whole world is out to get you, and maybe it is, but you can’t do it alone. Terrible things happen when you try to tackle so much by yourself.”

              When Giorno didn’t say anything, Steven chuckled and continued, “Besides, Miles is Spiderman. If you tackle this together, you shouldn’t have any problems.”

              He did make a good point. Perhaps going alone wouldn’t be an option. But he didn’t want to see anymore death, not this time. He knew it would probably be a constant in his line of work, but if it didn’t have to happen, why will it into existence? Still, acting like a loner would probably get him, and now by extension, Miles, into the clutches of Alastor, his father, or Morlun.

              He’d acted so stupidly. He’d left Miles with the others and gone off on his own. But what was he supposed to do? Everything Steven had just said was so strange. He wasn’t used to needing to depend on others.

              “I just don’t want Miles to get hurt,” Giorno said.

              “I know that,” Steven said. “He probably does, too. But you can’t push people away.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Let people help and life gets a lot better.”

              “Usually I’d slap your hand away,” Giorno said. “But I’m at a loss, and…you might have a point.”

              Steven chuckled. “C’mon, this place is getting cold, and we’ve got a formal to go to.”

              …

              Frisk and Gohan showed up a little later than everyone else, and yet, their sculptures were coming along better than most. Gohan was sculpting this dragon-creature that looked so adorable, she wondered if his dad or mom was a mangaka for a living. Frisk, on the other hand, had been sculpting a humanoid, goat child out of the clay. It was also pretty cute. However, Chibiusa’s sculpture of the painted chalice in her mother’s room was not going as well. The small jewels and wings alongside it looked clumpy and uneven, but she didn’t know how to fix them. Eventually she tossed up her hands and took a step back from it.

              “Would you like some help?”

              Masanori gave her a smile and began to help with the edges of the clay chalice. To be honest, it looked even better than it did in the portrait! It was amazing!

              “Wow! That’s amazing!”

              “You think so?” Masanori asked. He grinned. “You’ll love this!”

              He gestured to his own project; it was a woman, with a very familiar face and hair in the shape of an angel in elegant robes. Michiru.

              Chibiusa bit her tongue. “It looks nice.”

              “Just nice?” Masanori questioned. He tapped his finger against his chin. “I guess I could work on the hair some more! Thanks for the motivation, Chibiusa!”

              With that, he turned back to his own work. So much for that special connection. Maybe her mom had been wrong about all of that. It was frustrating: she wanted a friend she’d be able to keep forever, someone who wouldn’t go away, someone who wanted to be her friend just as much as she wanted to be theirs. She did like spending time with some of the other kids, but it was inevitable that they would have to go back to their own worlds. Mokuba’s brother, even as smart as he was, couldn’t guarantee they’d all get to see each other again. Chibiusa was so tired of permanent goodbyes; she couldn’t take another heartbreak like Puu.

              “Hey Chibiusa, what’s wrong?” Gohan asked.

              “Oh?” She hadn’t even noticed she had tears at the edges of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. “It’s nothing.”

              “Doesn’t look like nothing,” Sakura said. “C’mon, no one here is gonna judge you!”

              Silver opened his mouth but was shot down by a glare from Hop.

              “Well, it’s just that it’s very lonely in the thirtieth century,” Chibiusa explained. “Mama said I’d meet someone very special here, someone who would be my friend forever. I know it’s selfish, but I’d like that. Since I’m going to be the next Moon Queen, I’m going to live a long time, and I’m already alone a lot. I don’t want to be even lonelier!”

              She paused when she noticed everyone (sans Masanori) was looking at her. “S-sorry. I just thought, if I found that special person Mama was talking about, I wouldn’t have to be all alone anymore.”

              “Well, maybe you don’t have to be,” the Collector spoke up. “After all, whoever was trying to keep me out of this world wasn’t able to. I mean, I know we’re kind of stuck here for now, but maybe King and I can keep coming to visit you.”

              “Yeah,” King agreed. “When we’re not repairing the Boiling Isles, that is.”

              “Repairing? Did something happen to your home?” Chibiusa asked.

              “Well, Belos kinda destroyed it when he took over the titan’s skeleton,” King said.

              “Maybe I can visit your world and help fix things,” Chibiusa suggested. “Mama’s magic is all about healing the world, maybe if I practice enough, I could help you!”

              “You’d be willing to do that?” King asked.

              “Of course!” Chibiusa said, smiling again. “Not only would it be good practice for becoming queen, but…it’d be nice to help a friend.”

              “Well, if you need anyone to crack some skulls,” Toph spoke up. “You know who else to call.”

              “Maybe Belos,” King said.

              “I’m pretty sure Luz can beat him again,” the Collector said.

              “Maybe she doesn’t have to this time,” Syaoran said. “We’ve got our own abilities. Pearl can channel the dead, I’ve got elemental magic, Sakura has her cards, Hop and Hau have legendary creatures by their sides, Bede has fairies, Silver and Wally have pretty strong pokemon, too, Mokuba’s monster cards can actually hurt those daimon, I’m not sure exactly what Frisk can do, but they have a pretty strong aura, and Toph can literally bend the earth and metal to her will.” He paused. “And you, Gohan, King, and the Collector are stronger than all of us. I think all of us together can beat that old goopy-guy no problem.”

              “Hey maybe we can form our own club!” Pearl suggested.

              “With them?” Silver asked, gesturing to Hop and Hau.

              “You’d at least be better than stupid Usagi and her friends,” Chibiusa said. “They can’t seem to agree on anything.”

              “Good point,” Silver said. “I do love being better than other people. Alright, I accept. What about you, Bede?”

              “We could probably help Mr. Kaiba if we worked with each other,” Bede said with a sigh.

              “I think it’ll be fun,” Hau said. “We can hang out together, fight the bad guys, and find all the good spots to eat.”

              “You sound like Usagi,” Chibiusa said.

              “Nothin’ wrong with having a little fun while taking care of business,” Hau said.

              “We should come up with a cool team name,” Hop suggested. “Something like Team Legendary!”

              “Too predictable,” Bede said.

              “What about Team Skullcrusher?” Toph suggested. “You gotta admit, it would make us sound pretty tough.”

              “How about a more nonviolent name?” Gohan suggested.

              “Your loss,” Toph shrugged.

              “What about Team Titan?” The Collector suggested. “Titans are so powerful and strong!”

              “Wouldn’t that basically be giving away that we’ve got a titan in our group?” Mokuba asked. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, we just want to help.”

              “That’s a good argument,” King said. “Plus, I’m way less despotic than I used to be, or so Eda says.”

              “What about Team Guard ‘Em All?” Wally suggested. “It kind of sounds like Gardevoir and our purpose is to protect everyone, right?”

              “It’s kind of dorky,” Toph said, “But I think it could work.”

              “Better than Team Yell, anyways,” Bede said.

              “I like the name,” Frisk said in an almost whisper.

              “Then it’s settled,” Chibiusa said. “We’ll be the better hero group! No, the best hero group!”

              “Yeah, even if—,” Toph cut herself off. “Get behind me, now!”

              Everyone jumped behind Toph and avoided nearly being crushed to death as Eudial’s van crashed into the building, coming close to hitting the wall of rock Toph had put in front of them.

              “Nice instincts,” Hop commented.

              They heard heels clack against the tile floor. Before anyone could stop him, Masanori stood up and went past the barrier.

              “What is he doing?” Hop asked, dumbfounded.

              Eudial hopped out of her van, surveying the area, flinching. “Whoops. I did not mean to do that. Man, it’s gonna take ages to repair that.”

              “Who are you?” Masanori asked.

              Eudial glanced over at him. “Oh, there you are.”

              She pulled her blaster from her coat, and just as she was about to pull the trigger, Mr. Wright and Miss Fey stepped in between Masanori and the witch. Miss Fey looked to Masanori, “Masanori, get back behind the barricade!”

              Masanori nodded and ran back behind the rock wall as Mr. Wright glared at the witch ahead of him. “Targeting more children, huh?”

              “Well, even if you don’t have a talisman, we could always use your pure heart crystals to awaken our Messiah,” Eudial said, raising the gun again.

              Chibiusa needed to think fast! She needed to transform. To the left of their group was a wall of desks. This was her chance! She ducked behind the discarded chairs and tables, transforming into Sailor Chibi Moon.

              She jumped over the rock wall and aimed her heart wand at Eudial. “How dare you come here and try to steal the hearts of people trying to create such beautiful art! I am Sailor Chibi Moon, and in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”

              “If you two are just going to be annoying, can you at least not put up much of a fight? I’ve got a long day ahead of me. I’ve got a gala to attend later on, and my work schedule is just hectic right now.”

              “Do you honestly think we’re going to be sympathetic to you?” Mr. Wright asked. “C’mon, your work is legally, not to mention, morally terrible.”

              “Says the lawyer.”

              “Hey, Nick has great morals! He and Mr. Edgeworth are always helping me and Pearl out! Even Franny helps! And I’ll be darned if I let you use his heart as some sort of fuel for anything!” Maya protested.

              “Ugh, Chibi Moon, Mr. Wright, Maya, move! I can get a clearer shot if you move out of the way.”

              The earth underneath their feet slid out from under them, causing them to go either left or right. Rocks from the wall were thrown at the speed of sound by Eudial’s head, and then straight at her. She barely dodged them.

              “Hey! What are you trying to do? Kill me?” Eudial complained.

              “That’s the idea,” Toph said.

              “A noble endeavor,” a voice sneered. “I’m afraid the only ones who will by dying soon are those nearest to you.”

              Chibiusa didn’t recognize the voice, but the Collector and King did.

              “Belos!”

              A man appeared from the ground, almost as though he grew out of it. He wore a green uniform, similar to English medieval clothing, a white cape, and had long hair that looked like it needed a brush.

              King and the Collector both jumped over the wall. The man laughed. “Oh please, I’m not here for a fight. I’ve simply come to collect associate and tell her of the news we received.”

              “What do you mean?” King asked. “And what did you mean by those near to us would be dying? Talk!”

              “I’m not frightened of children,” Belos said. “Besides, you can’t kill me. Not while I’m tethered to my new allies.”

              He chuckled and handed Eudial a piece of paper. She glanced over it for a few seconds, her eyes widening. “Is this what it looks like?”

              “Precisely,” Belos said with a small smile. It creeped Chibiusa out.

              “Get away from them!” a familiar voice shouted from the opening in the rec center.

              It was Seto, Karlach, and Wyll. All three of them looked ready to fight.

              “And there are three of them now,” Belos said. Eudial raised her gun, but Belos shook his head. “No, the grand design is to have them all in the same area.”

              “What are you going on about?” Karlach asked.

              “You hurt any of these children and I will send you to the hells myself; that’s my solemn promise as the Blade of Frontiers,” Wyll said.

              “Goodbye, for now,” Belos said, placing his hand on Eudial’s shoulder. He glanced to King. “Tell Luz that I do look forward to seeing her again.”

              “Wait! What are you—?” King tried to ask, but before he could, Eudial, Belos, and her van had vanished to parts unknown.

              “Did you know what that was about?” Mr. Wright asked Seto.

              “Talisman holders,” Seto said. “They know. They know exactly who and who doesn’t have a talisman now.”

              “Seto,” Mokuba said. “That man said you three…”

              “He’s mistaken,” Seto said quickly. “I don’t know where he got this information, but it could get a lot of people killed. I don’t have pure heart, so there’s no way I could—!”

              He cut himself off and sighed out of frustration. “I need to go warn the others. Karlach, Wyll, Miss Fey, Mr. Wright, go back to Kaiba Corp with the kids and stay there for now. You’ll be safe there. Don’t come to the gala.”

              “You’re crazy if you think you’re going there alone,” Karlach said. “One of us will stay with the kids, and the other will go with you.”

              “I’ll stay with the kids,” Karlach said. “Wyll is better with fancier events, anyways.”

              “I rather like your dancing,” Wyll commented.

              “Can we focus?” Seto asked.

              “Of course, your lordship,” Karlach said sarcastically. “Don’t worry, we’ve got a handle on this.”

              “I have my doubts.”

              “You know, we can help you,” Toph said. “I nearly took that witch’s head off.”

              “No,” Seto said. Before she could protest, he added, “It’s not because I don’t think you can handle a few monsters, but that’s the scheme. They want to get as many pure hearts as possible into one area so they can strike all at once. The less people attend, the worse their odds at pulling off a huge heist.”

              “I guess that makes sense,” Toph grumbled.

              “There’s gotta be something we can do,” Hop complained.

              “There is, stay away from the gala,” Seto said.

              “But we can help!” Sakura protested.

              Seto ignored her. “Karlach, can you please take them home? We won’t be long.”

              “You two better come back in one piece or I’m wringing both your necks, yeah?” Karlach warned.

              Kaiba rolled his eyes. “Do you honestly think I’d let the Deathbusters take me out?”

              “We’ll be fine, love,” Wyll assured her.

              As everyone else was turned away, Chibiusa heard the Collector say, “I’m starting to think Chibiusa was right and that all the older people have no idea what they’re doing.”

              “That’s what I’ve been saying!” Toph complained.

              …

              The punch at the gala was alcoholic, and Usagi had drank a lot of punch. Right now, Miles stood with her on the balcony, waiting for the effects of the drink to wear off a bit. The fresh air seemed to be doing her a little good. She wasn’t spouting stuff about desserts and the theory of relativity anymore.

              He hadn’t seen Giorno since the tea shop, and he was starting to get worried. Did he get attacked? And if he did, by who? Miles should’ve never let him go off by himself. But he hadn’t known what to do at that moment. He was afraid if he pushed the issue, well, then their relationship would be very short lived.

              Was that even what they had? He didn’t know what to make of any of this. Then again, why should any relationship in his life be easy to comprehend?

               “Hey Miles,” Usagi said, poking his cheek. “Why do you look so upset? We’re at a party! It’s ‘sposed to be fun!”

              Miles chuckled. “Sure. Fun.”

              “Is this about Giorno?” Usagi slurred. She came up close to him. “Don’t tell Miles, but I think he likes you. He was so upset that you were in danger back at the Pokémon event. I told him everything would be okay! And it was!”

              “He was upset?” Miles asked.

              Usagi nodded. “Oh yeah. Even when that weird octo-lady attacked him, he was more worried about you.”

              Miles felt a little better and at the same time, a little guilty. He knew that Giorno must care, why kiss him, if he didn’t? But…Miles didn’t know how to help him, and he wanted to help. He wanted to keep him safe.

              “Miles?” Usagi asked. “Do you like him, too?”

              Miles was quiet for a moment and then nodded.

              “Then you should tell him,” Usagi suggested. “I’m sure it’d make him happy.”

              “I did…” Miles said. “And it did, for a few seconds. But then Alastor ruined it, and now we’re in a lot more trouble than we were before. I think I might’ve caused it. I didn’t mean to give him more trouble to deal with.”

              “Hey,” Usagi said, almost accusatorily. “Don’t ever be sorry for loving somebody! In fact, I’ll deal with Alastor and anyone else who tries to get in the way of love! For I am the pretty guardian!”

              “Usagi, keep your voice down” Miles urged. “There are other people inside.”

              Usagi giggled. “Oh, right.”

              She walked over to Miles and gave him a hug. “In any case, I won’t let anyone hurt either of you. I know what it’s like to feel like the other person is always just out of reach. It used to be that a lot of things and people were keeping me and Mamo apart, but we found our way back to each other.”

              She paused, broke away, and laughed. “I guess I’m being dramatic, like Rei says. But I think both of you should be happy. Kind of seems like you both need it.”

              “Thanks, Usagi,” Miles said with a small smile. Talking with her had actually made him feel better.

              “Miles?”

              He turned to see Giorno standing in the doorway. Usagi glanced from him to Miles. “I’m feeling better now…I’m gonna go find Mamo!”

              With that, she scurried off and left them alone.

              “Hey.”

              “Hey,” Giorno said. “You look nice.”

              If it hadn’t been so inconvenient, Miles would’ve almost forgotten that he was wearing a suit tonight. To be fair, they both were just to get into this place. Still didn’t make it any less tedious.

              “You do, too.”

              Giorno walked over and leaned against the guardrail. “Sorry for running off earlier. I…just got a little overwhelmed.”

              “No, I understand. It’s my fault. I just…I wanted…I don’t know,” Miles said.

              “Miles, it’s not your fault. I just don’t know how to do this,” Giorno said. “I want to be completely honest with you. I’m not sure if it will make things better or worse, but I need you to know that I care about you, even if I have a hard time expressing it. Before you showed up, my relationships and interactions were purely transactional. And then you came into my life. You were my first true friend, and you helped me at my weakest, defended me against everyone else, even if it could’ve hurt your own reputation. I…didn’t understand it. Not until I used what I thought would be the last time of my stand’s ability to save you did I get it. Even then, it still scared me. I’ve never had someone try to risk their life for mine, not with the express intentionality of saving me because they liked me. And when Alastor…when he hurt you, I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep you safe. I thought I could do it alone. I didn’t have anyone else to help me growing up, for the most part. I spent my childhood living in fear. My mother constantly left me alone, and my stepfather…well…I’d rather not discuss it. Not now.”

              He paused and then glanced up at the moon. “I never envisioned needing anyone. I learned very early on that I couldn’t rely on others.” He turned back to Miles and smiled. “But you were different. I’ve been trying to keep you safe using the same tactics I used alone. But we’re a team now, no? Partners. So, I realize, I’ve been approaching this the wrong way. Miles…would you like to stay with me? No matter what happens next? I swear, I’m not going to shut you out.”

              Miles felt his heart swell up. That was the most tragic yet sweetest proposal he’d ever heard. He walked over to Giorno and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. “Sounds good to me. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. We can win—together.”

              Giorno seemed a little surprised, but soon he relaxed. “I’m glad you think the same.”

              He grabbed Miles’s hand and leaned in. All of this: the moon, the music, this moment felt almost too good to be true. Miles shut his eyes and waited.

              However, they were interrupted.

              “You two need to get out of here now! I think he knows—oh—I am so sorry,” Katara’s voice cut in.

              “Who knows?” Giorno asked.

              “Miguel O’Hara, that’s who,” Katara said. “I stumbled into him at the library and—!”

              She was cut off as the familiar, icy tone of said man cut in. “And she very kindly healed me after you two left me to deal with Morlun alone. Thanks for that, by the way.”

              Miguel stood behind them, looming like a statue. Miles almost tripped backwards, but Giorno caught his arm.

              “Are you really so obsessed that you’re gonna keep chasing me even when there are way bigger problems out there?” Miles asked. He turned to Katara. “Also what did he mean you healed him?”

              “He was bleeding, and I didn’t know who he was,” Katara explained. “I came as soon as I could to warn you!”

              “I’m not blaming you,” Miles said. “Thanks, Katara.”

              “You’re welcome!”

              “I wouldn’t be so quick to be nice to him” Miguel said. “If it weren’t for him, those witches wouldn’t possess a list of talisman holders right now!”

              “What?” Katara asked.

              “That was Alastor’s doing,” Giorno explained. “He was upset I wouldn’t make a deal with him. Miles had nothing to do with it.”

              “That tracks.”

              “Hey! Toma esto en serio! Now they know where all the talisman holders are. They’ll be able to summon whatever grand weapon the talismans united creates and use it to destroy everything once and for all, and then no one is safe!”

              “We’ve been trying to stop them!” Miles protested. “It’s not like we’re standing by while people who have talismans get attacked!”

              “You mean like that friend of yours? The scared kid? He’s come close to getting caught by the deathbusters several times. We can’t let them get their hands on any talisman anyone might possess.”

              “Wait…” Miles said with a pause. “Because it kind of sounds like…”

              “You’re working with the two rogue senshi,” Giorno finished.

              “And that means he’s looking for talisman holders, too!” Katara said, whipping out a straight line of water. She turned them into sharp icicles she launched at Miguel, without even giving him the chance to stand up. He blocked them with the back of his arms; they shattered on impact.

              Giorno grabbed Miles and Katara. “All of us need to get out of here! NOW!”

              Suddenly, the doors shut as a purple mist filled the room; there was an abrupt chorus of screams that were cut off in mere seconds as several thuds hit the floor.

              Miguel looked from the doors to them. “You three stay here. I’ll deal with you later.”

              “What, so you can swoop in there and steal the talismans?” Miles asked. “No way!”

              “Look, this weapon could get us all home and prevent us from collapsing the timelines,” Miguel explained. “Although, I’m not surprised you’re doing your best to stop that again.”

              “People could die,” Miles argued. “Lots of people!”

              “Well, what am I supposed to do?” Miguel asked. “For all I know, this is all your fault anyways!”

              Giorno glared at him. “Take that back, now.”

              “And lie?” Miguel asked. He shook his head. “You two should really learn exactly who you’re allying yourself with. The fragmentation and loosening of timelines started with his timeline! Why do you think you’re all here to begin with? If he hadn’t screwed up his timeline so bad, none of this would be happening! You’d be home, safe! You wouldn’t even have to worry about any of this talisman business! If people die here, it’s his fault.”

              “That’s not true!” Miles argued, barely dodging Miguel’s grab. He turned to Katara and Giorno, urging them back. “You’ve gotta believe me!”

              “You know,” Giorno began, his voice low. “I read something in the library the other day about a man, pretty lonely and pathetic who disrupted an entire timeline, destroying it. So, then he felt a pressing guilt to watch over all the other timelines. Who’s to say that man’s actions didn’t start all of this in motion?”

              Miguel’s eyes widened before he shook his head. “I fixed the damage I caused!”

              “Doesn’t seem like it,” Katara added in. “From what Sokka told me, the timelines were still frayed. If anyone’s good for research, it’s my brother.”

              “I am the only one who’s been trying to fix things,” Miguel said, his eyes wild. He was about to go off again. He raised both his arms. “You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed, the amount of trouble I went through just to form a place that could help everyone! But because one person decided to be selfish, everything is going to unravel! We’re all going to die if I can’t fix this!”

              It looked as though he was going to take a swing at them, so Miles jumped in front of his friends. He planned to grab Miguel’s arms and try to push him away, but Miguel froze. He appeared just as confused as they were, well, except Giorno. Giorno stared directly behind Miguel.

              “Who are you?”

              Directly behind Miguel an old man clucked his tongue. He wore a tan fedora, shirt, slacks, and gloves over his hands. “You know, I the greater good only works if there’s a greater good left to fight for, Miguel.”

              “Joseph,” Miguel’s voice hissed. “What are you doing?”

              “Keeping you from doing stupid shit, apparently,” Joseph said. He held something invisible in his hands as he jerked them backwards, causing Miguel to stumble as well.

              Giorno took this as an opportunity. “MUDA!”

              Spiderman 2099 went flying backwards, over the balcony. He caught himself, but Miles wasn’t sure Giorno knew he would do that. He decided to not think about that.

              The man, Joseph, walked forward, eyeing Giorno. “That’s crazy. You’re like the spitting image of him!”

              “Of DIO?” Giorno guessed. “So I’ve been told.”

              Joseph seemed confused, as if he didn’t know what to do next. He scratched the back of his neck. “Is Jotaro safe?”

              Giorno nodded. “We’ve been staying together at the Hikawa Shrine.”

              “Really? I guess you both know about who your dad is—well dads—I should say?”

              Giorno nodded. “Look, I’ll answer any questions you have later, but we’ve got to get in there and save our friends, including Jotaro!”

              Joseph nodded. “Gotcha!”

              “MUDA!”

              The glass to the room cracked wide open, revealing….

              …

              *Ten minutes prior*

              Hunter walked through the courtyard with Willow. It was a nice night, not exactly a full moon, that was gonna be in a couple of weeks. He charted them in case he ever came across a friendly werewolf. How cool would that be?

              No, it was more like a bright crescent. Apparently, a lot of people embodied the moon: Yue/Yukito, Usagi, and Sokka’s girlfriend (who had also gone by the name Yue). Maybe the moon was their key to getting home, that or Kaiba.

              “It’s a nice night out,” Willow said, grabbing his arm. “Serene and peaceful. Makes it better that I’m with you!”

              He felt his heart leap. Willow smiled at him, pulling him closer. Even if everything else was going wrong, he was glad he had Willow back.

              They sat down near a patch of flowers growing in a fenced area, stargazing. Everything was so calm, so different than the craziness of the past few days—weeks—months—years. If he thought about it for too long, his whole life had been pretty crazy. Being the Golden Guard was never easy or quiet. He was always either studying or going on missions for Belos. His first act of rebellion had been keeping Flap; he never regretted that decision. Flap had been his first real friend. Then he’d actively rebelled against his duties and joined Hexside’s Flyer Derby team; he’d met Gus and Willow. Plus, Darius had helped him create his own social media. He got to keep his friends! When he found out the truth, when he found out about being a grimwalker, his life had been uprooted. A part of him had wanted to stay blissfully ignorant when it first happened, but if he had, he wouldn’t have gone back to Hexside to help everyone when Adrien attacked the school. And he’d actually enjoyed his time in the human world—sans being possessed by Belos…and Flapjack sacrificing himself. Now he was studying under Mr. Clawthorne and learning to make palismans, enjoying his time with his friends, and he had the best, strongest, and most beautiful girlfriend in all the Boiling Isles. His life had never been better, and it was because of all the crazy events that had happened in such rapid succession.

Although he was scared now, there was still some positives to his situation: the new people they’d met, like Usagi, Zuko, Sokka, Katara, Miles, his roommates, other guests of the shrine, and even Kaiba had been pretty good friends to have during all this bizarre business with the talismans, demons, witches, and…Belos. How he was alive again, Hunter didn’t know. He was acting just as self-righteous as when he’d died. He hadn’t flinched when he tried to kill him…again. If it hadn’t been for Miles grabbing all of the talismans in that moment, the witch and Belos might’ve gotten away with them. It didn’t matter if they were a family once, Belos still wanted him dead. He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that he had family besides Belos, but sometimes, it was just hard to get over. He’d spent so many years of his life trying to gain his uncle’s approval and love, and it didn’t mean anything.

“Hunter, are you okay?”

Willow’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um-yeah. I’m fine…what about you?”

“I’m worried, I’m not gonna lie,” Willow said. She squeezed his hand. “But I’m also determined to keep you safe!”

Hunter could feel himself blushing, but it also warmed his heart. “Hey, tomorrow do you want to go out? Just the two of us? Usagi said there was this really nice restaurant not far from the shrine, and I’ve been saving up enough yen doing odd jobs here and there. I thought…it might be nice.”

Willow looked up at him; her eyes were so pretty in the light of the moon. “That’s so sweet, Hunter! Of course I’d love to go!”

“C-cool!”

“You might want to postpone those plans.”

Both Seto Kaiba and Wyll Ravengard walked up the stone path leading up to the mansion, they seemed to have noticed Hunter and Willow hanging out in the courtyard ahead of them.

“What do you mean?” Hunter asked.

“I mean that everyone here tonight is in danger,” Kaiba said. “They can’t enact their little plan if they don’t have at least three of the talismans. I’ve read that much.”

“So Katara was right,” Willow said. “You didn’t return the books.”

“If I had,” Kaiba said. “I would’ve missed one of the most important memories. So long as they don’t get three talismans, they can’t enact their little summoning ritual. I’m not sure what all it entails, but a lot of people will die if that happens.”

At that moment, all the doors in the house slammed shut, as did the windows. The windows fogged up by some purple mist as the screams inside were cut off by coughing and thuds.

“And they’re going to pull it off if we don’t stop them now!”

“We need to find a way in,” Willow said. “Let’s try the back door; I saw Miles and Usagi go out to the balcony earlier. Maybe we can regroup with them.”

All three of them nodded in agreement, rushing to the back entrance. There was some sort of squabble as they heard Giorno yell “MUDA!” A man, with the stature of a statue went careening over the side of the balcony overhead. Wyll acted quickly and pulled everyone away from the man. The man, for his part, was able to grab onto one of the ledges on the lower levels and land on his feet. He glared up at the balcony as they heard glass shatter.

His attention turned to the four of them. “You—all four of you—stay right here.”

Kaiba laughed. “I’d hardly take orders from someone like you.”

He turned to the Wyll, Willow, and Hunter. “This is Miguel O’Hara. I’ve been informed that he’s working with those rogue senshi. Isn’t that right, Mr. O’Hara?”

“You don’t understand,” the man said. “I’m only doing what needs to be done!”

Wyll grimaced. “I think, as two mature adults here, we have very differing opinions on what needs to be done. After all, who blames children for the actions of fate? I’m sure you’re aware fate is a very fickle lady.” He frowned and shook his head. “We can’t control what the deities seem fit to throw at us, but we can control how we approach our own circumstances. We can guide our own fates to something better than was originally intended.”

“You have no idea what we’re up against,” the man countered. “There’s no way to fight back against total erasure. If all spacetime continues to bleed from the very gushy wound, eventually, it’ll give out. It’ll be a total implosion.”

“And you know this how?” Kaiba argued. “Because by my estimates, you have no idea what in the hell you’re talking about. You’re going off baseless assumptions!”

“I don’t have time for this,” the man said.

“Neither do we.”

“Dolor!”

Miguel was blasted backwards by a dark red hue of malevolent energy. He tried to get up again, when he was tossed aside by a red blur that emerged from the ground. The bright yellow grin and red eyes automatically struck terror. “Well hello there!”

“Alastor, what are you doing here?” Kaiba growled.

“Helping a friend,” Alastor said. “Can’t have Mr. O’Hara ruin my fun, can I?”

“You’re the one who started this!” Kaiba argued. “You’re the reason we’re all in danger!”

“No, that’s Mr. Giovanna’s fault. You can discuss that with him later. Oh! Do tell him I look forward to working with him and Mr. Morales in the very near future. Of course, you’ve seen what comes next, haven’t you, Mr. Kaiba?”

“As much as I don’t care for Giorno, Miles is a valuable asset. You keep away from him!”

“Careful, Mr. Kaiba, one might begin to consider you actually have a human heart.”

Wyll shook his head. “He’s trying to distract us! Come, we need to get inside. We can climb the walls!”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Hunter said. “Everybody just lock arms.”

Kaiba raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I can teleport us up there. We can help Giorno and whoever else is trying to fight off whoever set off that trap.”

“I'm skeptical that you could, yet intrigued that you may.”

“Just grab an arm!” Willow said.

As soon as they were interlinked, Hunter focused on the balcony and with a few zigs and zags teleported them just above the stone floor, careful to avoid the glass.

              There were a few people, already inside, fighting against a group of daimon that looked like one of those weird marionette monsters in Cosmic Frontier. The guests—their friends were passed out and scattered along the ballroom floor, even Hooty was unconscious. And it seemed like he had tried to hit a couple of the monsters before zonking out. Giorno, Miles, Katara, and some old guy they’d never seen before were doing their best to keep them away from innocent party guests, but they were quickly being outnumbered. Not only that, but they seemed to be multiplying every time they were broken by Giorno’s Golden Experience, Miles’s and the old man’s strength, or Katara’s waterbending.

              “Hey,” Willow said, turning to Seto. “Do you think you could summon one of those monsters of yours? I think I’ve got a plan. I’m going to group all those monsters together with vines. You hit them with your monster.”

              Kaiba nodded. “Go ahead.”

              Willow turned back to the monsters, her eyes glowing green as vines sprouted from the marble, ensnaring the marionette monsters. Kaiba shuffled through his deck, placing cards into another field, the graveyard, if Hunter was reading his disc-thing correctly.

              “I summon Blue Eyes White Dragon!”

              The massive dragon with features of its card name appeared in the room. It threw its head back and launched a beam of light at the marionettes, incinerating them all. Kaiba smirked. “And that’s how you dispose of trash.”

              He turned to Willow. “Thank you for your help, it was very kind.”

              “Gods, you sound like Astarion,” Wyll said with a laugh.

              “Don’t ever say that again.”

              Hunter decided to turn to the most responsible person in the room, who could fill them in on what they missed. “Katara, what happened?”

              “Eudial released a smoke bomb that knocked everyone out and the horde of daimon that Willow and Kaiba took care of. And now, she won’t leave.”

              They had neglected to see Eudial fuming in the corner of the room as others started to wake up. Eudial stamped her foot. “I could just set the whole place ablaze to reduce the stench of failure.”

              “Calm yourself, Eudial,” an eerie voice chastised. Hunter’s heart sank as Belos materialized from the floor. “It will all end soon; this wasn’t the proper night. The moon wasn’t full.”

              “You understand waterbenders are at their most powerful under a full moon?” Katara asked. “I don’t care who you are, if you try to hurt my friends, I’ll put an end to it!”

              “Such fire from a waterbenders,” Belos remarked. “You young heroes are all the same, so arrogant, so strong in the belief that you will always triumph if you believe hard enough. But good, true good, always triumphs in the end.”

              The old man laughed. “You can’t be serious! You go around murdering people and still think you’ve got some sort of moral high ground? Not to mention that most of your targets are children.”

              “Well said!” Wyll agreed. “Actually, I had a rather similar line of thought just earlier.”

              “See?” Belos asked. “You’re all very well the same. You have the same dead ideas, you repeat yourselves, and you will be doomed to repeat this cycle. No matter how the outcome of our future battle plays out, you’re going to face the harsh truth that your truth is faulty. Soon enough, everything will end, and none of you will have to suffer anymore. Isn’t that far more pleasant of an outcome than to keep eternally fighting for heartbreak and evil?”

              “You’re wrong!” Hunter objected. Belos looked at him, and even though he never wanted to see his uncle again, he couldn’t help but argue. Sure, it wouldn’t change anything, but he needed to stand up to him! He wouldn’t continue to be his uncle’s pawn. “The only time I was suffering was when I was being controlled by you! I thought we were a family. I used to think you cared, all I ever did was try to earn your respect—you love. But it was never going to happen. Ever since I met Luz, I’ve met friends—people I love—and people who love me! This world is beautiful. Yeah, even this one. Sure, it’s a mess, and not everyone always gets along perfectly, but that’s kind of what makes it special. If we didn’t have our idealism, if we didn’t fight for the people we love, we’d be soulless husks—like you. You can’t steal their hearts! I won’t let you hurt them!”

Hunter waited, but Belos merely sneered at him and turned away.

Before Hunter could speak up, Mr. Ravengard did. “Excuse me, but it seems to me you could at least acknowledge what your son is saying.”

“He’s not my son,” Belos said simply.

“In any case, you raised him, did you not?” Wyll asked, his glare fixed on Belos. “He just poured his heart out, and you can’t even be bothered to acknowledge him?”

“What business is it of yours?” Belos asked.

              “For the record,” the old man said. “I think you’re kind of an ass, too. I wouldn’t ignore my daughter or my grandson if they had something important to tell me.”

              “I’ll say this now,” Wyll said, drawing a sword that looked like it was made from fire. “You try and hurt any of these children, and I’ll make sure your reanimation ends permanently. I swear on my oath as the Blade.”

              “We’ll see,” Belos said. “Come, Eudial. We’ll be off now.”

              Belos and Eudial disappeared in the blink of an eye. Hunter’s knees wobbled, he might’ve toppled over if Willow hadn’t grabbed him.

              She kissed his cheek. “I think that was very brave.”

              Hunter wiped his eyes. “Th-thanks.”

              Seto chuckled. “I’m jealous. I wish I could’ve done the same with my…father.”

              “Hopefully you won’t have to,” Hunter joked, wiping his hands on his shirt.

              “Hey, uh,” Miles interjected. “Sorry to interrupt the moment, but we should probably wake up the others.”

              “You’re right,” Seto said. “I’ve got a lot to explain. You’ll stay with me tonight. I can’t risk anyone ending up in the hands of the deathbusters. Not now.”

              “What did you find out?” Giorno asked.

              “A lot,” he looked at Katara. “I did mean to keep my word to return the books, but this was important. I had to make sure. And I was right. Everything Belos just said confirms it.”

              “What did he mean?” Katara asked.

              “They need three of the talisman holders,” Kaiba explained. “As long as they can gather three, they can force the rest to follow. I don’t know how, but they’ve built some sort of technology that needs three forms of bio-signatures. Once they’ve got that, every other talisman holder is doomed. And Alastor just gave them a list of every single person who has one hidden inside them. I…received the list from Alastor, too. I think he’s mocking us.”

              “Of course he is,” Miles said.

              “Let me guess,” Giorno said. “You blame me?”

              Seto shook his head. “Given I wouldn’t have made a deal with the Radio Demon, either, it would be hypocritical. That, and I’m tired. If we don’t make our next moves carefully, there may be none to play.”

              …

              Alastor wiped his hands on his jacket. “Thank you for another forgettable fight!”

              Miguel struggled to stand up. “Don’t flatter yourself. The vampire kid and the warlock did most of the damage.”

              “And you’re going to boast about that?” Alastor asked, raising an eyebrow.

              “Why help them?” Miguel asked. “You’re just going to make them suffer!”

              “And you’re not?” Alastor asked. “By Lucifer, they’re right, you really are a hypocrite!”

              “…It’s not my intent,” Miguel said. “Under different circumstances, I’d leave them be. But I can’t. I figure you already know that, diablo.”

              “It’s Alastor.”

              “Alastor,” Miguel said. “Why are some of the spaces blank on the list?”

              And reveal a good majority of his clientele, his business partner, her girlfriend, and her father to be talisman holders? He thought not. Besides, his management would definitely have a problem with that, and while he was still tethered to their will, he couldn’t make a slipup that huge.

              “Who knows?” Alastor shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me!”

              “You’re not one of the—?”

              Alastor laughed in his face. “No! I’d never even taken the chance at releasing the lists if I were.”

              Alastor paused. “May I ask a question?”

              “…Go on.”

              “You do know that if you hurt Mr. Morales, I will have to end you, right?”

              “Why do you care?” Miguel asked.

              “Because those heroes,” Alastor explained. “They’re the key. Perhaps you don’t see the use in them, but I do. You’re a fool if you can’t recognize their souls’ potential. If you leave it alone, I’ll be the one to watch the light leave their eyes. Simply do nothing, and your precious timeline problem will be handled. You can even have the talismans. All I’m interested in is souls.”

              “The two are intertwined,” Miguel argued.

              “Unless you can separate them” Alastor said. “I can do that. And I feel like Mr. Giovanna and Mr. Morales will be needing to make a deal with me very soon.”

              …

              When Kaiba said he was keeping everyone at Kaiba Corp, he was serious. He’d brought Miles’s parents from the shrine, just to make sure they were safe, or to make sure Miles wouldn’t go after them if something were to happen. In any case, Miles was grateful.

              Right now, everyone was in the couch pit, watching a movie. Mokuba had managed to get Seto to sit down for five minutes and join them, he grumbled about being too busy, though. All of the older people, his parents, Peter, the BG3 Gang, both Mr. Joestars (which was weird because Jonathan turned out to be Joseph’s granddad), Avdol, Luke, Mr. Wright, Mr. Edgeworth, Raine, Eda, Alador, and Darius took up council in a secure meeting room. Miss Fey and Polnareff decided to stick with them, probably because they either got bored during the meeting or they were asked to keep an eye on things. Miles decided it was likely the latter.

              Seto had explained everything to everyone else, so the atmosphere was tense. For now, Miles was trying to forget about him and Giorno being a target. He was content to watch this god-awful romance movie with him and their friends as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

              “This guy is clearly a stalker!” Sokka complained, pointing at Edward Cullen’s face.

              “This movie is trash,” Kaiba agreed. “Who picked this film?”

              “You guys need to see the beauty in bad movies,” Sasha argued.

              “No, I think pretty boy had it right,” Haruka said.

              For some reason, Haruka and Michiru were on the list of talisman holders. Miles wasn’t sure why, and he was kind of curious to know. However, Usagi didn’t want to press the issue. She didn’t want to scare her friends.

              “Vampire romance is bullshit,” Jotaro argued.

              “Tav seems pretty happy,” William said. “Not every vampire is evil.”

              “Because Astarion is such a great example of a stand-up guy,” Kakyoin argued.

              “He is helping us, so…” William argued.

              “Why is everything in this film blue?” Amity asked. “Not that blue is a bad color, it’s just like, they filmed in blue.”

              “Actually, they did,” Steven said. “They put a blue filter over everything to make it seem more creepy or isolated, I think.”

              “How do you know that?” Connie asked.

              “I…read it somewhere,” Steven said.

              “Do you like this movie?”

              “It’s got a cute concept.”

              “Steven!”

              “I agree,” Usagi said. “To love someone so much you’d live forever with them—that’s gonna be me and Mamo!”

              “Hopefully I won’t be a vampire,” Mamoru commented. “Though, if I get to be with you, it’d be alright.”

              “Aw! Mamo!”

              “I regret every single one of my life choices that led me here,” Kaiba muttered under his breath.

              As things began to wind down and people started to relax and doze off, Miles felt Giorno pull him closer. “This movie really does suck—no pun intended.”

              Miles laughed. “A lot of people watch this film to make fun of it.”

              “I guess I could see the value in that.”

              Miles leaned against Giorno; today had been long and bittersweet. He was going to sleep for as long as he could, no matter how much his mind begged him to stay awake.

              “Hey Miles,” Giorno murmured.

              “Mmm?”

              “I…wanted to let you know that none of this is your fault. It doesn’t matter what Miguel said. You’re not responsible for any of this. And I’ll help you prove it.”

              “Thank you, Gio,” Miles said with a sleepy grin. “And just so you know, I feel the very same way about you. You’re one of the coolest people I know; I won’t let anyone say otherwise.”

              “Thank you, Miles, for everything.”

              …

              Rio Morales just wanted to check in on Miles, even if Jeff said they were fine. The wizard-man, Gale, had set up some sort of protection spell around the building, and he was keeping watch with his strange vampire friend and the knight. This world was weird. The sanest person they’d met was Camila, and she was a saint. She’d gone with her daughter to the ‘Demon-Realm’ to help fight off some sort of slime creature with just a bat.

              Astarion had provided them a list of names of people who would be targeted by those evil witches (apparently there was a Wizard of Oz distinction between good witches and bad witches). A lot of the children were being targeted. Rio wasn’t sure what these talismans were, but she did know she wouldn’t let anyone hurt Miles. She was praying that their plan would pay off.

              Rio, Karlach, Raine, Gale, Jonathan, and Darius carried blankets, making sure everyone had one. Karlach frowned. “Hold on.”

              She glanced around the room, spotted a desk and sighed. She walked over to it, took a quick drink of some sort of potion, and picked up the tall, lanky boy in the white coat who had a paper stuck to the side of his face.

              “He’s gonna run himself into an early grave,” Karlach muttered. She laid him down into an open area of the couch, putting a blanket over him. “Poor soul.”

              “Wyll is right,” Jonathan spoke up. “You would’ve made a good mother.”

              “Nah,” Karlach said, shaking her head. “My child would’ve been absolutely wild.”

              She paused. “But it hasn’t been so bad. I don’t mind helping these two. They deserved better than they got.”

              Rio smiled. It was nice to see someone happy here. She continued to walk around the room until she found Miles with Giorno. If they were trying to keep anything secret, they were doing a terrible job. Miles had fallen asleep with his head on his shoulder. Rio chuckled and placed a blanket over them. She was sure he’d tell her on his own time.

              “Will you help me?”

              Rio looked at Jonathan who was standing beside her. “With what?”

              “It’s a long story, but Giorno…biologically speaking…he’s mine.”

              “I thought that vampire guy was his dad?”

              “He is,” Jonathan said. Rio raised an eyebrow. “It’s complicated. The long and short of it is that DIO stole my body. He won, and he wants to ruin Giorno’s life. His life has already been hard, and I want him to know that I’m on his side, but I was long dead before he was born. If I could have protected him, I would have. I want to protect him now. I don’t want DIO to manipulate him or force him into doing something he’ll regret, perhaps for eternity.”

              “I…what can I do?” Rio asked.

              “Just talk to him,” Jonathan said. “Every attempt I’ve made falls on deaf ears. I don’t know what to do to convince him to let me help. Perhaps, coming from someone he trusts, it might make a difference.”

              “I can try,” Rio said. She frowned. “Probrecito.”

              Even if Jonathan’s story was a little strange, she wouldn’t allow someone who had protected her son to be turned into some evil, undead creature.

              None of these kids would get hurt, not while she was around.

[ufonaut]

Hi! Been trying to calculate the birthyears of the OG JSAers for reference during my comic reading. While there's estimates, have you ran across any canon birth years for any of them? So far I've calculated Jay G. (1918), Alan S. (1916), Al Pratt (1920), and Johnny T. (1917). I know Wes & Charles are a little older than the others while Kent's aging was thrown off by Nabu (aged up in 1940) but the exact years are harder to pin down, though I imagine most were probably born between 1915 - 1921.

HEY NOW THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M HERE FOR!! this made me very happy to read, it's exactly the kinda thing i spend ages thinking about all the time and i think you're only off by a couple years!

as far as i'm aware, the only jsaer with an exact birth date/year stated during the actual golden age is johnny thunder (07/07/1917) in flash comics 1940 #1, although he's later written as much younger and the majority of his stories treat him as a teenager. that being said, it's equally easy to make an educated guess about kent nelson's birth year -- his origin story in more fun comics 1936 #67 begins in 1920 and the doctor fate 1987 miniseries later states he was twelve at the time, which would make him born in 1908 (the same mini also states that nabu has kept him and inza frozen at twenty-one years old until his rapid ageing during the events of the story).

al pratt is a sophomore in college so i'd personally place him around 1921, while jay graduates in 1940 and that presumably places him around 1919. mcnider has to be at least 30, he's a well-established doctor by the time he's blinded so it's probably something like 1910 or earlier. i'd guess wes is somewhere around there too and rex is probably a couple years younger in his mid-to-late twenties as he's a college graduate and he's been working at banner chemicals for a decent amount of time by his first appearance in adventure comics 1938 #48. similarly, carter is a complete mystery but presumably in his mid-to-late twenties too since flash comics #1 calls him a 'collector and research scientist'. on the other hand, the spectre 1992 series has jim corrigan lying about his age to enlist in the first world war so if he's 17 in 1917 then that makes him born in 1900 and dead at 40.

as for alan, most of his golden age stories do emphasize his youth to the point that i believe we're meant to understand that his career -- and especially the very fast advancement of it -- is extremely uncommon for his age. we know nothing concrete about his past but we do know doiby dickles was in wwi and must be somewhere in his forties, we also know that alan is young enough to be his son so i generally see alan as born in 1918 and twenty-one at the time of the train crash in 1939 (the exact year of the train crash is also subject to some debate, i prefer this particular version that roy thomas suggests in the all-star companion because it gives him a decent chunk of time as a solo hero before the jsa but doomsday clock places it in 1940 as per cover date rather than volume date of aac #16).

i think the absolute best possible resource for the jsaer's ages is paul levitz's 'aging the all-stars' article from the amazing world of dc comics #16, this is as close as we've ever gotten to explicit canon confirmation of any of this and it makes for some easy math with 1976 as the present year he's using to determine all this. more to the point, he has alan as born in 1919 if he's 57 in 1976 so he's on board with the 20-21 age range for the train crash too.

hope this helped!

[ausbutlerhq-musings]

therapy with laney #1 | austin self para

WHO: Austin Butler & Lainey Dowder (licensed therapist) WHEN: August 21th, 2023 WHERE: Austin's house SUMMARY: Austin has his first phone visit with his therapist. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death, suicidal ideations, substance abuse, childhood abuse, mental health issues

Austin could feel his stomach flipping as he waited for the appropriate time and kept a watchful eye on his phone. He knew this was easier than going to see someone in person - and much quicker too, although he knew in the future he should probably bite the bullet and go see someone face to face. He was doing this alone though - no partner to hold his hand, no parent or sibling or even a friend to drive him. He sat in his office at home, with his phone and no one else. His thoughts faced and he'd already gotten queasy that morning, not knowing what to expect from the first step of many steps down a road that would hopefully make him feel better - that would help him to understand what he was so scared of and how to fix it.

Austin hit the answer button when the call came in from "Laney Dowder" a licensed therapist in the state of California. He'd found her at random, read her reviews and saw she had a cancellation and booked as soon as he could after his birthday ordeal. He heard the click of the other line and heard a gentle voice on the other end. "Hello, is this Austin?" she asked. "Hi, yeah that's me," he responded. Okay, first sentence down. He took a deep breath, very audible on the phone and nodded to himself. "Well, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Laney Dowder, a license therapist. I see that you found my profile online and chose to make an appointment with me. Thank you for trusting me. I can tell you a bit about myself." Laney went into detail about her life. She had a husband and some kids and a pet dog. She went over her educational background and shared with Austin what she liked to do in her spare time. Austin had to stop and think when she'd asked him the same questions. "Well, I'm Austin. I'm technically single but I do have a long term, long distance, low commitment, casual girlfriend," he decided to joke lightly. He received a genuine laugh from the woman on the phone. "A Barbie fan? My girls loved that movie!" she commented. He laughed, feeling a bit more comfortable. Okay, so she did the same things everyone else did that summer. "Thought I'd try to lighten the mood a bit," he said, biting his lip although she could not see it. She appreciated it and complimented him on his sense of humor in a professional way. "No pets right now. I graduated from high school and I've been an actor for about twenty years. I began doing background work in children's shows and now I've moved onto some movies and television shows, I try to keep myself as busy as possible." The two talked about what he enjoyed doing in his spare time and he could hear Laney jotting down notes as they spoke.

"Okay, so - we've made our small talk and we're getting to know each other. What brings you to me today?" she finally asked. "Um," he trailed off. "I have some problems. I have issues with avoidance, I have issues with feeling indifferent, I have anxiety that I can't really control," Austin listed off. "Okay - and would you say that you have episodes of panic? Panic attacks?" Austin bit his lip. "Yeah, definitely." She wrote more. "And how often would you say that you experience those, if you had to guess?" she asked. "A few times a week," he admitted truthfully. "Okay and let's focus on..childhood. Was it good, who did you grow up with?" Austin chewed on his lip as he thought back. "It was pretty good, I guess. Not super typical but both of my parents loved me. My sister, Ashley too. Ashley is five years older than me. My mom and dad got divorced when I was six," he explained. "Divorce can be quite traumatic for a child that age, were they on friendly terms while you were growing up?" Laney asked. "Yes. My mom was in an abusive marriage at one point and my dad took us back into his home. They ended up being like best friends more than anything, it was really nice for us growing up," Austin admitted. "You said your mom was in an abusive marriage? Was this physical?" she asked gently. "No, it was emotional and verbal." She jotted down more. "And was this man ever physically, mentally or verbally abusive to you or your sister?" she asked. Austin frozen a bit and shook his head slightly. "I - I don't really want to talk about that," he admitted. "Okay, no problem. We'll move along to the next question. How is your relationship with your sister and your parents now? How would you describe it?" Laney asked. Austin swallowed and took a deep breath. "My sister Ashley is - one of my best friends. I've been distant from her for some time but she is the most lovely, wonderful sister anyone could ever ask for. She is kind, compassionate, generous, loving - I couldn't ask for a better sister. My dad lives in Arizona now, I don't see him very often but when I do it's always positive. He keeps to himself and I do too, we're a lot alike in that way. And my mom passed in 2014," Austin revealed. "My condolences, I'm so very sorry to hear that," Laney said sympathetically. "May I ask how she passed?" Austin nodded to himself. "She was sick. Diagnosed late stage and - in a couple years it was over," he stated easily. "Oh, how terrible. I'm so sorry again. How was your relationship with her during her time on earth?" Laney asked gently. "Wonderful. My mom was my hero, my best friend. So wonderful, no amount of time would've been enough with her," he said, his voice getting quieter. He heard the pen jotting down more notes.

"Romantically? You said you have a complicated situation, is what I'm getting from your Ken reference?" Laney asked. Austin could hear her smile on the other end of the phone. "Yes - you could say that. I uh, dated this woman for about a decade. We broke up in 2019 and I've been pursuing her again for a couple of months," he explained. "May I ask what caused the initial breakup? Ten years is a long time to be together." Austin chewed on his lip again. "I ended up booking a big movie and I went method. Kind of became my character. My girlfriend didn't make the cut and I started to have inklings of developing feelings for my costar and couldn't ever cheat on my girlfriend," he explained. She hummed and made more notes. "I see. Okay and where does that leave you two now?" Austin shifted a bit in his seat. "That's a good question. Um, long story short I'm trying to get her to fall back in love with me. Because I want to marry her but she is scared," Austin explained apprehensively. "You want to marry her?" she asked softly. "Yes, I do. Badly. I want to marry her and have kids with her. I deeply regret my past choices and mistakes and have been trying to work hard to make it up for her. Being here today is a big part of that too," he admitted. "Okay - now to get a bit heavier here. Have you ever been suicidal or struggled with suicidal ideation?" Laney asked gently. "Ideation," Austin repeated. "Yeah, I've been there." She nodded. "Do you have a history of self harm?" she asked. "No," he answered simply. "Okay, what about substances? Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes?" she listed off. "I've never done drugs aside from marijuana. I drink, sometimes. I drink normally, socially, a little more than socially," he decided. "And yeah, I smoke," he confirmed. "What do you hope to get from therapy?" Laney asked. "I think..I'm hoping to learn what's wrong with me and maybe how to get a grip on my feelings better or more efficiently. I have a hard time dealing with big or difficult things and I tend to run away," Austin explained. "And what would you like to accomplish in our future sessions?" the therapist asked. "I would like to..learn how to cope with the symptoms that I have so I can be a better brother, boyfriendish person and friend to my loved ones," he confirmed.

Laney wrote some more and cleared her throat. "Excuse me. Okay, well - I think therapy could be very beneficial for you. We need to get to the root of some of these problems you are having and figure out some new ways to help you deal with your stress that maybe aren't quite as self-destructive to yourself and the relationships you hold with others," she explained. "Does that sound like a good goal to have for our future sessions?" Laney asked. Austin nodded, although she could not see him. "Yes, that sounds great." Laney clasped her hands. "Awesome, okay. Well would you like to come in the office in a couple weeks and then we can meet face to face and talk more about everything?" she asked. "That would be great, thanks." Laney closed her notes. "Okay, lovely. Well, thank you so much for speaking with me today. It was great meeting you and I look forward to our next session. Do you have any other questions for me?" the therapist asked. "I don't think so, but thank you for your time." Laney smiled. "Of course, thank you. Take care," she said. "Thanks, you too."

[babyleostuff]

IN THE RAIN

summary: Chan knew that falling for their choreographer would be a bad idea. Did it stop him, though? Not at all.

pairing: idol!chan x choreographer!reader

genre: fluff, secret relationship | word count: 2k

song recommendation: i don't understand but i luv u by seventeen

Chan wasn’t bothered with looking for a relationship, the process of meeting someone, getting to know them, creating a bond - it was all too much for him. And the idol life didn’t make it any easier. Most of his days were spent locked up in the studio or on set, and even if he didn’t have any schedule he was too caught up in work to take a day off. The last thing he had on his mind was a relationship. 

All of that changed when he met you. 

“Let’s go over this once again,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. You and the boys had been working on the chorus of IDUBILY for a couple of days now, but they still couldn’t synchronise on some parts, which was very unusual for them. You wouldn’t act like such a pain in the ass if it wasn’t for the fact that they had to be ready to perform it by next week.

It was nearing two am and you could barely move - Jun looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open, and Minghao sat on the ground more than he danced. Hoshi and Chan were the only people that seemed like they had some energy left, although the older one was weirdly quiet.  

“You know what, let’s just stop here,” you could have sworn all four of them exhaled at the same time, and you couldn’t help but giggle, as they all collapsed to the ground. They acted like they were fifty, and not in their twenties. 

It also seemed that none of them were thinking straight anymore - definitely not Hoshi, who instead of helping Minghao get up by his outstretched arms, started to drag him towards the door. “Um guys, do you need help?” You asked, concerned, looking after the two men. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine,” Jun patted your back, giving you a warm, but tired smile. “You coming Dino?” he asked the youngest, holding the door open for him. 

You exchanged a quick glance with the boy standing next to you before looking down, pretending to be busy with repeating some of the choreo steps, but thanks to the mirror in front of you, you could watch your boyfriend in the reflection.

He was a terrible liar, and if your relationship wasn’t at stake, you’d find his troubled expression extremely cute, how his cheeks were dusted with a pink blush, and his ears were all red. 

If you could, you'd do all the talking for him. You knew lying to his brothers wasn't fun or easy, but if you started making excuses for him why he had to stay longer at practice, or why he came earlier than others, the boys would get suspicious. 

“I’ll just go over that last part, and then I’ll be heading home. Just a couple more minutes,” Chan said, stumbling over his words a couple of times. Thank God Jun was too tired to notice it. 

“Just don’t stay up too long. Go home and get some rest, yeah?” The older said, and bid you farewell, closing the door behind him. 

“I can't do this anymore,” your boyfriend groaned, falling dramatically to the ground. He curled into a small ball and all you could see was his head of beautiful blonde hair. "I can't even hug you normally. What am I talking about? I can't even look at you," he mumbled, clearly delirious from the lack of sleep and food.

You needed to get him food and drive him home as soon as possible before he’d go totally crazy. 

"What are you talking about, honey?" You giggled and knelt down next to his body, placing your hand on his sweaty back. "Of course you can look at me. Don't be silly, Channie."

He shook his head hard and straightened up enough to look at you. "But that’s the thing. I can’t. Whenever I look at you, my eyes turn into hearts and the boys would immediately know that something is up," he looked at you seriously. "You know what I mean, right?" 

You couldn't help but laugh, seeing Chan so desperate to prove his point, who probably didn't even know what he was talking about. "I can assure you, darling, you don’t have hearts instead of eyes when you look at me.” 

He looked at you in surprise before his expression fell a little, replacing the excitement with sadness. "So you don't see the love in my eyes when I look at you?" His lower lip pouted slightly and he couldn't look any cuter even if he tried.

"Are you sure you're not drunk?"

“Babyyy,” he groaned, burying his head in your lap.

“Sorry, you’re just very endearing when you’re half asleep.” 

He mumbled something but you couldn't make out what he meant, although you were sure it was a mix of whining and complaining that you didn't love him anymore. 

At first, when you began dating, you got a bit surprised by the shift in his behaviour when he was with the boys versus you only. Sure, he was still his adorable little self with them too, but he had a habit of turning into a baby when he was with you, dropping his guard completely. You loved how hardworking and ambitious he was, but your favourite side of him had to be this one - him curled up in your lap, confessing his love like a lovesick teenager, looking like the cutest thing ever. 

“How long do you think we’ll have to hide like this?” Chan whispered, tracing the lines on your palm with his finger. “I want to hug you like a normal boyfriend would. I want to kiss you good morning when I come to rehearsals. I want to do all of the lovey dovey stuff to piss off the boys.” 

Dating as an idol was tricky. Both Chan and you knew that, and as much as he tried assuring you that he was okay with hiding your relationship - it still killed you seeing your boyfriend upset that he couldn’t treat you with as much love as he would like to. He adored showing his affection to people close to him, and hiding his feelings he had for you had to be one of the hardest things he had to do in his life.

The worst part was that you weren’t sure how the company would react to your relationship - an idol and his choreographer, that didn’t sound right. That’s why you decided to keep it secret, at least for a while before you wouldn’t figure out what to do next. 

“Trust me, baby, it kills me too,” you said, brushing his bangs away from his face, revealing honey-brown eyes looking up at you. “You have no idea how much I’d love to be able to hold your hand without getting stares from everyone, but you know we can’t tell the company yet. But you know… we could tell the boys.” 

Dozens of emotions flashed across his face in a second, as if he couldn't quite comprehend what you had just said. "What?" Chan quickly lifted his head from your lap, straightening up and swaying slightly as he did so. “Be careful, you're tired, don't make such sudden movements,” you scolded him, holding his arm to help him keep his balance.

"Do you think we could seriously tell them?" He asked, ignoring your comment. 

"Why not? I'm sure some of them have already figured out that something is going on between us anyways. Besides, they love you baby, I’m sure they’d be happy you finally have a girlfriend." 

“I know but- Hey, what do you mean finally?” He pouted at you angrily, ripping his arm from your hold. 

“I was just joking, Chan.”

“I didn’t find it funny.” 

“We seriously need to get you to bed.” 

You stayed at Chan’s place that night - you had to make sure he was properly tucked in, and actually resting and not going back to work, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep yourself. It wasn’t fun knowing you were part of the reason why your boyfriend was so overworked. You never meant to tire the boys out so much, but on the other hand, you had to - dancing was your job. 

Plus, from the way he was clinging to you, his head on your chest and arms around your body - you knew your earlier talk about your relationship took a big toll on him too. 

“Will you be there for the shooting next week?” Chan mumbled, his breath tickling your neck. 

You sighed, running your fingers through his hair. Yes, of course you’d be there, you were their choreographer after all, but it wasn’t what Chan meant. “Will you be there for the shooting next week as my girl?” That was what he truly wanted to ask. 

“I’ll be there. Not in the way you’d want me to, but… We’ll figure something out.” 

It had been raining all day - from the time you arrived at the recording site just after sunrise, until now, when the sun was about to set, and most of you only dreamed of warm tea, dry clothes and a comfortable bed. The directors said that the rain would add character to the shots, which was true, but it was easy for them to say - they were sitting under umbrellas and didn't have to stand in the middle of the street soaking wet.

You just prayed that none of the boys would get sick, that was the last thing they needed right now, and if any of them even had a runny nose tomorrow, you swore that you would deal with their label yourself. You almost cursed out the rest of Seventeen when all of them pulled up to the set to support their performance team. 

They took “I love my team, I love my crew” a bit too seriously. 

“They look so hot right now,” said one of the makeup artists that was obsessively looking at Minghao the whole time. Her comment was met with an awkward silence, because yes - they did look hot, but more than that - they looked cold and tired. Hoshi had his arms wrapped around Jun, and your boyfriend tried to shield them from the rain, holding his jacket up as a makeshift umbrella over all four of them. 

“Okay everyone! Let's record the outro and that’ll be it for today!” one of the main directors yelled out, making everyone breathe out a sigh of relief. 

Despite the terrible weather, fatigue and a bit too obsessive workers, the guys did their best, and you were sure the outcome would be amazing. Before one of Chan's stylists could grab his raincoat, you took it yourself and ran out into the rain with it to your boyfriend. 

“What are you- Get back under the umbrellas, you’ll get all wet, baby,” Chan said in a hushed tone, trying to put the raincoat that was meant for him over your shoulders. 

You smiled, the rain hitting your face, making a mess of your makeup and hair that was sticking to your face. “You know how we talked about telling the boys?” You asked, grabbing Chan’s hand. 

He looked at you with surprise, brows furrowed and mouth in a small pout. He clearly remembered how a few days ago you talked about how you were both ready to tell the boys about your relationship, but he didn't think it would happen so soon. “What do you mean?” Was this really happening? 

“Kiss me, Lee Chan,” you chuckled. 

You were never big on romantic clichés like kissing in the rain, and you weren’t sure it was the best way of telling his members about you, but the moment Chan smiled and took your face in his hands, looking at you as if nothing else existed around you - you couldn't care less about it.

“If we do this there’ll be no turning  back,” he beamed, looking like the happiest man on earth. 

“Let’s fucking do this, baby.” 

Slowly, you closed the distance between you, the soft sound of raindrops accompanying your every move. You rested your hands on Chan’s chest, and tilted your head upwards, meeting his cold lips halfway. 

“I fucking knew it!” You heard Seungcheol yell, making you and now your official boyfriend chuckle against each other’s lips.

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[debussyanddarcy]

AU Prompt: "You broke into my apartment drunk thinking it was your friend's place and I should call the cops but my cat likes you so????" unrequited plisetsuki please : D ?

to preface this: this probably is not what you wanted when you asked for this, but, uh, this is what happened?

ANYWAY I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY TODAY

Somebodyis in the apartment.

Yuriis a light sleeper by nature, so the quiet pitter-patter of feet across hiswooden apartment floors jolts him out of sleep quickly. What the ever-loving fuck,really, it’s not even like there’s anything valuable in his apartment. Yuri’s abroke college student; the most valuable thing in his possession is his damn MacBook.

(Viktor’shalf of the apartment is a different story.)

Still,it’s not like he’s going to sit around and let this asshole raid his fridge, orworse, steal his phone, so he grabs a baseball bat from his closet andcreeps out of his room, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. Yuri is—okay, a little smallfor his age, but Viktor had once told him that his tiny body contained the rageof a dozen Russian pro-wrestlers. Yuri thinks it’s the nicest thing Viktor’sever said to him.

Yuripeers into the expanse of the apartment and finds a single, flickering light inthe kitchen. He stealthily tiptoes across the floor, baseball bat clutchedtightly in his fists, to find that, what the hell, this bastard is actuallyfucking raiding his fridge.

“That’smy pirozhki, asshat!” he snarls, ready to swing his bat when theintruder turns around.

Shit, Yuri thinks. It’s BeautifulInternational Student Yuuri Katsuki.

Whichis stupid, because Yuri himself is an international student, and he isgoddamned beautiful, okay, but Yuuri Katsuki’s beauty is legendary,well-known even to the undergraduates. He’s a doctoral student in the biochemistrydepartment, and can often be seen slogging through the quad in a faded graytracksuit, hair unkempt, glasses slipping down his nose, leaving broken heartsand forlorn sighs with every step he takes.

Butright now, Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki is crouched in frontof his refrigerator, biting into Yuri’s painstakingly baked pirozhki, faceflushed, eyes suspiciously red.

 “Whatthe fuck,” Yuri says intelligently. “Are you—are you crying?”

 “N—no,”Yuuri hiccups. “Why would I—why would I—” He bursts into tears.

Yuri—doesnot panic. He just—well, bounces around on his feet a little, flailing. Thebaseball bat slips from his grasp and rolls noisily along the floor. “Forgetit!” he yelps. “You can eat all the pirozhki you want! Here! Heat it up! Whyare you eating it cold?”

Hegrabs the plate from Yuuri’s hands and sticks it in the microwave. He shoveshis hands in his pockets just to give them something to do. Behind him, Yuuriis still sniffling quietly. The sound makes his stomach clench uncomfortably,and he casts around for something to say.

“Whatthe hell’s the matter with you?” he asks gruffly, eyes still fixed on themicrowave timer.

Yuurisighs. “Think I’m drunk,” he informs him, voice wavering.

Ofcourse Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki would be a Sad Drunk, Yurithinks. “Do you barge into strangers’ apartments whenever you are intoxicated,”he deadpans. 

“No.”Yuuri frowns, going cross-eyed. It’s not adorable at all, which is why Yuristealthily slips his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture. “Was lookingfor—Phichit?”

“He’stwo doors down,” Yuri tells him, unamused.

Yuuri’slower lip actually trembles. The sight of it makes Yuri feel things,which is utterly unacceptable. So he does the logical thing, which is to takethe plate of pirozhki out of the microwave and shove one into Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuribites, chews, and swallows. His eyes light up. “Oishi!” he proclaims,and teeters off into unintelligible Japanese. Yuri tries, and fails not topreen. He put that look of ecstasy on Beautiful International StudentYuuri Katsuki’s face.

Hejoins Yuuri on the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. Sasha comespattering in, fluffy tail high in the air. He clambers into Yuri’s lap, andYuri scratches him behind the ears, watching Yuuri devour his plate ofpirozhki.

 “So,”Yuri begins. “Why are you drunk?” 

Yuuriopens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “There is not enough alcohol in meto tell you that story,” he says gravely.

Yuriscoffs as he gracefully gets to his feet, Sasha tucked securely in his arms. “Well,you broke into the right apartment.”

 *

  Inthe end, it comes to down to Viktor fucking Nikiforov.

Ofcourse it does.

Threeshots of vodka in (taken from Viktor’s most expensive bottle, Yuri thinks with relish) andYuuri has taken off his hoodie, his shirt, and one sock. Yuri tries not to lethimself get distracted by the lines of Yuuri’s chest and abs, but he’s onlyhuman.

“Ijust,” Yuuri says, hiccupping. “I love him so much?”

Yuritwitches.

“Heis so beautiful?” Yuuri is saying, and Yuri clutches Sasha closer to his chest.“And he is so brilliant. He is. He is. Beautifully brilliant. Brilliantlybeautiful. And today, I. I just wanted to wish him luck at his conference. He’sgoing to Munich, you know,” he adds in an undertone, and Yuri rolls his eyes.“But he. He didn’t even know who I was.” Yuuri’s eyes grow very, very wide.“We’ve been in the same department for two years. We’ve been to the samemixers. We’ve been to some of the same conferences, even, I.” Yuuri hangs hishead. “I thought he at least knew my name.”

“Viktoris an asshole,” Yuri says, “who has his head stuck so far up his own ass thathe can see out of his mouth. 

Yuuriblinks at him.

“Weall notice you, dumbass,” Yuri says, refusing to make eye contact. Sashamewls, stretching out on his lap. “You don’t need his—his approval, orwhatever, to feel like you’re worth something.”

Silence.

Andthen: the sniffles.

“Ohmy god,” Yuri hisses. “Are you actually crying again.”

“You’reso nice,” Yuuri wails, and Sasha, the traitor, leaps off Yuri’s lap tobutt his head against Yuuri’s knee.

Yuriscowls and reaches for the bottle of vodka.

It’sempty.

Fuck my life, he thinksfeelingly.

  *

 Viktorwakes up bleary-eyed to a text from Yuri on his phone.

Thereis a picture: it’s fuzzy, and lit very poorly, but Viktor can tell that it’shis room. His bed, to be precise, and the outline of a distinctly male figurelying on his rumpled sheets. 

Followedby a video: “I think Viktor is the best.” The sound is grainy, and the personspeaking trails off so that Viktor has to strain to hear. But his eyes arelovely and his lashes are long and dark, the curve of his nose delicate in thedim lighting. “His research on male-pattern baldness is unparalleled and also Ithink he has a great ass.”

Apause as the angle of the camera changes, and Viktor is greeted with Yuri’sunimpressed face. “If you—” Yuri pauses, stumbling a little. “If you make himcry ever again, I will evisc—evisce—rip your intestines out and feed them toSasha and then I will dance over your corpse while waving your decapitatedhead on a stick in front of your weeping mother.” 

Hehiccups and falls over, snoring.

Oh,Yura, Viktor thinks fondly. Always so passionate about life.

 YOU: who is that lovely boysleeping in my bed?

YURA:fuckoff

YOU:you arequite overprotective

YURA:if youdon’t know him already you don’t deserve to know him asshole

YURA: btw your vodka’s all gone

YURA: fucker

 Viktorsets his phone on the bedside table thoughtfully. This clearly requires furtherinvestigation.

 *

  Viktorofficially meets Beautiful International Student Yuuri Katsuki two days later.

Itis terrible for everyone (read: Yuri Plisetsky) involved.

 *

 Atthe end of every winter semester, the Comparative Literature Departmentpublishes a collection of short essays, stories, and poems created lovingly by theirsleep-deprived and caffeine-addicted students. The pieces vary in nature, andare hand-selected by a committee of professors before making it into the finalcopy.

ProfessorBaranovskaya, widely known for her no-nonsense, scathing critiques, who putsthe fear of God in the already dying souls of every university student thatwinds up in her classes, vouches for one particular piece with quiet authority.

Itmakes the first page.

 you, who enchantswithout knowing

to be the tear thatgraces your cheek

to be the drop of vodkathat slides down your throat

 I rest my head on yourknee

and sigh

  (Y.P.)

 *

 Viktortakes a screenshot and pins it to their shared fridge with a bright bluemagnet. MY YUROCHKA IS GROWING UP!!!! he annotates with a pink marker.

Yurifills all his shampoo and conditioner bottles with bright orange hair dye.  

[kuroopaisen]

takes one to know one || fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi just wants to buy some flowers from the nice stall attendant he definitely doesn’t have a crush on in peace. gojou has other plans.  

wc: 2.4k

warnings: gn!reader, incoherent chaos

a/n: gracie dearest this one’s for you :( you are so sweet and so lovely to me and i’m so, so glad we met in this hellscape (i would personally like to thank psycho-pass for existing) i hope i did your boy well! 

By the time he arrives at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi knows the flowers are a mistake.

“For me?” Gojou gasps, hands clasped and mouth agape in perhaps his most punchable smile. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

Megumi’s fist tightens around the handle of his bouquet. Today, it’s lilacs, irises and white lilies. It’s also much bigger than usual – too big to inconspicuously leave on someone’s fence or place in the school gardens.

“You can have them if you want,” he murmurs. What else is he supposed to do with them?

The delight on Gojou’s face collapses into a precarious mix of genuine confusion and insatiable curiosity. “Hah? They’re not for anyone?”

“No,” Megumi says. And if they were, I wouldn’t tell you. Although he doesn’t say that last part. Gojou would perceive it as a challenge, and the less he knew about Megumi’s private life, the better.

“So…” A grin splits Gojou’s face. “The person you bought them from must be special, then.” 

Megumi freezes for just a second. But he knows a second is enough for Gojou to glean all the information he needs.  

“Ah,” Gojou hums. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Megumi mumbles, well-aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.

“But why would you go out of your way to buy a bouquet of flowers, hm?” Gojou grins, shit-eating grin back on his face. “They don’t hand these out for free, you know.”

Megumi’s grip is so firm he’s scared he’ll crush the stems.

Although, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them. It doesn’t feel right to throw them out – not when you’d spent time putting it together – but he wasn’t about to revamp his room with a distinctly floral accent.

Is it against social protocol to give the flowers back to you? Not now, of course, but maybe on his evening walk… or tomorrow morning…

He still doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk past you that first day.

But something about the way you were gazing out into the street, eyes wide and hopeful as you watched people ignore you on their daily commute… something about that drew him in.

And once he’d bought something from you once – just a small flower, one he didn’t know the name of, but seemed appropriate behind a cute girl’s ear – he couldn’t very well start ignoring you.

Not when your smile is so bright, your eyes sparkling with gratitude whenever he takes whatever floral arrangement you’ve lovingly bundled together out of your hands.

But now he’s paying the price – in more ways than one.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your flower stall is just a few feet away from one of the trendiest cafes in this area of Tokyo, and whoever oversees your little operation is obviously trying to capitalise on that. Setting up so early must be an attempt to catch the rush of bleary-eyed corporate workers craving their necessary morning coffee.

What use an office worker has for flowers, Megumi doesn’t know. But he has a feeling that you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’ll help brighten the place up.”

As usual, you’re waiting there patiently, eyes hopefully scanning the streets for any potential customers. Your face positively lights up when you finally catch sight of him – something that still makes Megumi nearly trip over his own feet.

“Good morning!” You call out, waving to him.

Megumi raises a hand in response, shuffling towards you with all the embarrassment of a high schooler on their way to their first date.

“Can I interest you in a floral arrangement on this fine Saturday morning?” You grin, eyes twinkling as you make your marketing pitch.

“Sure,” Megumi sighs, scanning the vast array of flowers currently on display. He’s getting better at picking them out, but he still can’t name any of them on sight.

You wait patiently, hands folded on the counter. If you think he’s an idiot, you keep it to yourself.

“Those ones,” he says, pointing at a group of blue heart-shaped flowers.

“The morning glories?” You ask reflexively, reaching over to pluck a bunch out of their display.

“Yeah,” Megumi shrugs. He has no idea what a morning glory is. The term sounds like something Gojou and Yuji would snicker at.

“They’re gorgeous,” you smile, taking a moment to admire them.

“Yeah,” Megumi says again.

Flowers aren’t really his thing; God help him if he was ever asked what his favourite kind was. But there’s no point in saying any of that – not when he’s already spent an embarrassing amount of money at this one stall.

“You’re keeping the business afloat, you know,” you giggle, as if reading his mind.

Megumi blinks at you. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “It wouldn’t be amiss to say you’re our most important patron.” You beam at him, same sparkle in your eyes as always.

He’d be furious, if you weren’t so nice.

How is he supposed to focus when you’re looking at him like that? How’s he supposed to ask who ‘we’ is? A business partner? A partner partner?

But you look so young. You can’t possibly be running a business. But you might have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or both. Or a partner of an otherwise non-binary gender.

Too many questions, no social capacity to ask them.

“So,” Megumi begins, his voice calm and composed as ever. His mind, however, is scrambling around like a fast-food joint at rush hour, trying to string together a sentence that’s not only coherent but also fascinating.

“How old are you?”

Whoops.

It’s the forbidden question. Or, at least, that’s what people always say. People, in this case, is Gojou. It usually is.

You seem unbothered. “I turn seventeen this year.”

Was it only a forbidden question for people who’re older? But in that case, surely knowing someone’s age was pertinent for the whole ‘respect’ thing. Maybe Gojou just didn’t think he should ever ask anyone’s age because then he’s not beholden to honorifics.

But Megumi can’t imagine him using them properly anyway.

That’s not the point. The point is that you’re the same age as him. You weren’t somehow twenty-seven with a baby face.

“Oh,” Megumi nods. “Me too.”

The smile you give him is almost unbearable. How is it even more of a smile than your usual smile? That doesn’t make any sense.

There’s a certain excitement bubbling in his gut that he doesn’t recognise or like.

Wait, if you’re his age, then…

“Do you not go to school on Saturdays?” He asks.

Is this conversation too dry? He’s not sure. He doesn’t usually make an effort at this sort of thing.

“My school doesn’t have classes on Saturday mornings,” you smile, meticulously wrapping brown paper around the stems of a set of particularly bright morning glories. You always do it so delicately; where on earth do you find the patience?

There’s something… graceful, about how you go about it. Sure, it’s your job, but Megumi still enjoys watching you work because—

“Hello there!”

Megumi knows that voice.

Oh no.

“Hello!” You fold your hands in front of you and give your new customer a bow. But your usual smile has been replaced with an expression of middling confusion as you look him up and down.

Megumi doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind him.

“Who’d’ve thought there’d be so many kinds of flowers in bloom, huh?” Gojou grins, slinging a lanky arm around Megumi’s shoulders.

Megumi glances to the side.

A pair of startingly blue eyes peek at him from behind black shades.

“What are you doing here?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I thought I’d just come out for a morning stroll,” Gojou sighs, gesturing to the sky. “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”

Megumi’s ready to commit a murder.

“And look at all these flowers!” Gojou exclaims, bending down to peer at some asters closely. “Did you grow them all yourself?”

“Of course not,” you laugh. “I just sell them.”

Jealous maybe isn’t the right word. But there is a twisting in Megumi’s gut upon the realisation that within minutes of meeting you, Gojou had made you laugh. Megumi, on the other hand, was yet to do that.

“Well, either way, my student is a big fan,” Gojou smirks, shaking Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi’s soul is currently leaving his body.

“I was just telling him that he’s our most valued customer,” you smile, tilting your head at the pair of them.

“Ah, is that so?” Gojou grins. It’s amazing, really, how he manages to capture all the terror of the apocalypse in one smile. “I never really took him as a flower guy.”

“Everyone’s a flower guy, sir,” you tsk, shaking your head. “Even you.”

Gojou places an affronted hand on his chest. “So quick to make assumptions!”

“Not at all,” you smile. “You’d be surprised by what our customer base looks like.”

“You don’t say,” Gojou grins, turning to Megumi.

Megumi considers the consequences of punching Gojou right in the nether regions. He doubts he’d be punished for it by the higher ups; if anything, he’ll probably be rewarded. Maybe even pushed up a grade for his invaluable service.

“Fushiguro!”

Oh no.

Megumi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His head whips round to Gojou. His teacher is already looking straight at him.

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “I told Yuji to meet me here this morning.” The glint in his eyes strikes terror right through Megumi’s departing soul.

Sure enough, Itadori barrels his way towards them, damn near colliding against Megumi with a ‘thump’.

Megumi can do something but stare into the abyss, hoping, wishing, praying this is just a nightmare.

Unfortunately, it’s not.

You give the newest addition to this strange little posse a customary bow. “Good morning!”

Itadori beams at you, his entire face lighting up. “Good morning!”

A strange panic starts to rise from Megumi’s gut. If he thought about it, you and Itadori would get along well. Too well.

Thoughts of you and Itadori walking hand in hand down the street as you laugh, Itadori offering you his coat on a clod morning as you blush, Itadori walking you home, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as you lean towards him and –

Megumi blinks the thoughts away. What is wrong with him today?

You and Itadori have just met. And what was it to Megumi anyway? It’s not like he—

“Megumi?” Itadori tilts his head at him.

Megumi stares back blankly. “Hm?”

“I wanted to know how you found this place,” Itadori asks, voice bright but with the uncertain quality inherent to repeating oneself.

“Oh,” Megumi murmurs. “Well, I…”

In truth, he doesn’t remember. He just saw you one morning and decided to approach. He still doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t regret it.

“I roped him in with my charm,” you piqued up, picking up the lull in conversation.

Try as he might, Megumi just can’t concentrate. Itadori’s pressed against him, Gojou’s still got his arm slung around his shoulder, and—

“Ah, Nobara’s here!” Gojou beams, waving a hand over his head.

“What are you doing here of all places?” Nobara frowns, raising an eyebrow at Megumi. “I wouldn’t have taken this as your sort of scene.”

If there’s a hell, Megumi’s sure it’s this.

Conversation is bubbling around him but none of it is registering in his mind, he can see Nobara’s dissatisfied look as she takes in the situation at hand but he doesn’t have the energy to retort, Gojou is playing with the petals of one of the display flowers but Megumi knows he’s not going to buy it and—

“Hey, Megumi?”

He snaps back to reality at the sound of your voice, gentle and concerned.

“Are you alright?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. It’s as if you’re completely ignoring the rabble, as if you see him and only him.

Next to him Gojou, Yuji and Nobara watch with rapt attention.

“Yeah,” he lies. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

You frown at you look at him. Something flashes in your eyes and you suddenly duck beneath your countertop.

Megumi and his gaggle of fools blink in surprise.

In a moment you hop back up, something purple bundled up in your hands. “Here,” you smile, handing it out to him, “this is supposed to help you sleep.”

One whiff and he knows it’s lavender.

“How much?” Megumi asks.

You shake your head. “Oh, no. It’s on me.”

Megumi’s heart flutters as you smile. Despite the chaos going on around him, despite the fact that he knows he’s going to be mocked for this for weeks to come, he’s grateful.

Somehow.

“Sorry about this…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” you giggle, shaking your head.

Megumi feels Gojou chuckle quietly, his chest rattling. Itadori is unusually quiet and Nobara seems moments away from a laughing fit.

“I should go,” Megumi says quickly and suddenly. He doesn’t give you time to respond, zipping down the street as fast as his feet can carry him. He needs a shower and then a run and then he needs to beat a training dummy up and then—

“Wait, Megumi!”

He freezes in his tracks. That’s… your voice.

And around his wrist is… is…

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes darting for where you hand wraps around his wrist. Why is his heart racing so absurdly fast? Why does it feel like his head’s about to explode? You’re just holding his wrist. You’re not even touching his skin. Not that it matters—

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You ask, not quite able to meet his gaze.

It brings him back to the moment.

“Of course,” Megumi answers reflexively.

You finally lift your eyes up. They seem to be sparkling. “I look forward to it.”

Before he even has time to process it you’ve let him go and trotted back to your stall, tending to your flowers as if nothing’d happened.

This has been too much embarrassment for one day. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on and he’s not sure he wants to know. But man, he needs at least several hours alone to process everything.

As Megumi shuffles away, Gojou bounds after him, still grinning like a fool.

“So, Megumi’s got himself a—”

Megumi elbows him in the stomach before Gojou even has a chance to finish his sentence.

[starglow-xx]

Hello! How’s your day! :) Can I request a platonic gn big sibling reader who’s patient and kind for Dasani headcannons? Here’s a virtual hug

٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

dazai with a patient & kind older sibling

(platonic!) dazai osamu x gn! reader

genre: platonic, fluff, angst (?)

tw: mentions of suicide

heyy! sorry that this took so long to get to! there was a lot going on, and i had (and still have) a lot of writer’s block. anyways, i hope you’re doing well, and i hope you like this! and here’s a return to your virtual hug! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

also! these only take place before all the kids join the agency! i kinda enjoyed writing these so if i haven’t already by the time my requests open, if anyone would like another part (?) when the kids are already in the agency, feel free to request (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

and just to clarify, requests are closed! this is just an old request from a while ago :)

these hcs are kind of all over the place so yeah (°▽°) i’ll probably maybe edit them later

i don’t know where to start so let’s just borrow that long lost sibling trope yeah?

the two of you had separated when you were younger, you ended up being a frequently transfered foster kid (all over japan) and osamu in the well...yk, the port mafia

when he was in the mafia he hadn’t bothered trying to look for you

i mean what would you, his ever so kind and understanding older sibling want with their now (or maybe he was always) cold blooded, dark younger brother?

he was a mafia exec for goodness sakes

he was just saving himself the time and the eventual rejection

or perhaps, he didn’t want to drag you into this

he’s not quite so sure now to be completely honest

he’s had plenty of time to think during his 2 years in hiding and more than he’d like to admit, he thought back to you

in his head, there were multiple dazai osamus; the mafia one, the one around chuuya (the same one with oda and ango once upon a time), the one around the agency and many more

if he ever did come across you again, who was he supposed to be?

he certainly wasn’t the same person he was way back then

way back when the two of you were children

way back before the suicidal tendencies and thoughts became much more real

he was sure that if you were with him now, you’d tell him that he could be whoever he wishes to be around you as long as he feels and remembers that you’d always be there

whether he would accept it or not

he could already see the patient and warm look you’d give him, and the small swirls of sadness in your (e/c) eyes

as if someone like him deserves the kindness

it’s been two years; two more years he can add since oda died, ango’s betrayal, and add to your absence

he’s twenty now, and already part of the ada, and finally starting to settle in somewhat

knowing that you were abt 3 years older than him, he mentally noted to himself that you’d be 22 now, almost 23

due to the frequency of your transfered care, and messed up system, even if he had wanted to track you down, it would be difficult

especially adding in the factors where you could’ve gotten adopted, changed your name when you became of age, maybe even died, the possibilities were endless

so he pushed finding you to the back of his mind

so he certainly wasn’t expecting on bumping into you during a job

you had become a primary school teacher and some of the kids you had been taking care of (as well as other kids in the area) had been disappearing without a trace and the case has been handed over to the armed detective agency

dazai thought your occupation was quite fitting considering your personality; kind and patient

goodness knows how much patience one would need to have dealing with over a dozen children

not that he’s been around many patient people as of recently

ranpo-san barely has any patience for anything and kunikida was another story altogether

although, his outbursts are mainly his fault

chuuya was a different story as well (°▽°)

anyways

due to your connection to the children, you obviously needed to get interviewed, etc. and after all that dazai brought you back to the agency

don’t get me wrong, you’re overjoyed at the fact you’ve finally after long last reunited with your younger brother, but you certainly wasn’t expecting to meet him that day nor did you expect he’d be a public service worker

well detective, but you get the gist

granted, you don’t know an alternative for him bc you missed basically everything abt him growing up in adulthood, but still

but in a way, it suited him

you’d always known him for having a keen eye

introductions to the ada were...certainly something

dazai: kunikida-kun, ranpo-san, yosano-san, shachou, this is my long lost older sibling, dazai (y/n) ! ~(˘▽˘~)

(y/n): er hi! it’s a pleasure to meet you! thank you for taking care of my younger brother, and i apologize for any inconvenience he may have caused... (◠﹏◠✿)

dazai: (°▽°)

the ada: ...

dazai: (°▽°)

(y/n): (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

kunikida: tHIS IS YOUR WHAT–

you’re automatically kunikida’s new favorite person

although that took time bc he was absolutely positive dazai was pulling some kind of new bullshit with him bringing in this person who’s the complete opposite of him and claiming they’re his long lost older sibling

i mean cmon he knows he can be gullible, especially to dazai’s tricks but there’s just no way

but after seeing how well you handled dazai the times you were in the agency he started to believe it

dazai: *harrasing kunikida*

kunikida: *abt to burst a blood vessel and strangle him*

you, across the room organizing dazai’s unfiled paperwork and not bothered by the chaos few feet away : osamu, can you please leave kunikida-kun alone, even for a few hours? i’ll buy crab for dinner, if you do

dazai, instantly leaving kunikida alone sauntering back to his desk: oh, my dearest sibling! you are so kind to wittle ol’ me! 

kunikida: ... (ಠ_ಠ)

kunikida, internally: ...a godsend?

you stay over at his place so often it’s like you live there

the only reason you don’t is bc your own apartment is closer to your work

since you’ve reunited, you constantly invite yourself into your younger brother’s dorm room to 1) take care of him, 2) to clean up his dorm, 3) to cook real food to last him the week, and 4) to spend time for him

the two of you both know that obviously, things have changed and your relationship isn’t the same before, but yk, baby steps

you made him sit down with you so that the two of you could talk properly and seriously and talk abt boundaries and things of the sort

you both know that dazai isn’t going to pour his heart out to you (at least not right now) abt what he’s gone through, his suicidal tendencies, his act around others, etc. but you’ve reassured him that you’ll always be around if he ever needs you and that you’re willing to wait as long as it takes until he’s ready

which ofc dazai rebutted by saying what if he never is, and you rebutted back saying that it’s okay and that you’d still be there

yk, just some supportive, kind older sibling things

when dazai is doing and or causing stupid shit around the agency when you’re present, you are the calmest one there

well, both you and fukuzawa

i mean the two of you deal with actual children i think you’ve got this in the bag

but although you may not be bursting a blood vessel at the sight before you *ahem kunikida i’m looking at you* you always know when and how to defuse a situation no matter how absurd it is

dazai got tangled in bandages? no worries you got the scissors, and know how to be careful with them

kunikida’s notebook is missing and dazai is the prime suspect as always and abt to get tossed out a window? it’s fine! you already swiped it back from the hiding spot you saw dazai put it in

see you got it covered!

you already do a lot for the ada and for dazai, but you still push yourself to do more wanting to pay them back for everything

to dazai, for not being there for him growing up and for the rest of the agency for taking him in

also because they solved the case of the kidnapped children and brought your students back safe, and just bc you just wanted to

you help with dazai’s paperwork when you can (the filing aspect bc you have no idea how to write the report bc you weren’t there and bc you aren’t authorized), make lunch for all of them, buy snacks, and you even treated them out for dinner a couple times

hell you even started paying your brother’s tab from the cafe on the ground floor

granted, the tab is too big to pay off all at once considering how often the agency visits, dazai ditches, and your pay, but yk, every little bit helps

kunikida, yosano, and ranpo just stare at him sometimes bc how is this angel your sibling?

you, already unpacking and distributing the lunched you’ve made for all the agency staff on your day off: hey everyone! i don’t have anything going on today so i brought lunch!

kunikida, yosano, and ranpo watching this happen, then turning to stare at dazai: ...

dazai, knowing fully well that his colleagues are staring at him: my my! i know i’m quite the handsome fellow, but there’s no need for you all to burn a hole into me! ~(˘▽˘~)

kunikida, yosano, and ranpo: (ಠ_ಠ)

dazai: (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

kunikida, practically shaking in annoyance with teeth gritted: i want to replace you— 

obviously, you can’t be at the agency all the time bc you have your own job, but everyone can’t help but miss you when you’re gone

who’s supposed to save kunikida now?

but, they will admit, seeing your younger brother and kunikida go at it is quite amusing at times; it’s already become the norm anyways so i mean ig they can survive without you

even though dazai is grateful for your presence back in his life, he can’t help but have some doubts

what if you left him again? yes, he knows that your separation from him wasn’t his nor your fault, but what if? just what if you find out everything he’s done and decide you want nothing to do with him?

then you’ll leave him and yokohoma behind, thus leaving behind those at the agency. it’s obvious that they care for you despite only meeting you just recently so then that means they’ll hate him for driving you away and also decide they want nothing to do with him

the agency would fire him to get you back and maybe unbeknownst to him they’re already plotting his termination and your hiring

how’s he supposed to compete with his much kinder, his much more compassionate older sibling? you’re way more cut out for this “be a good person” thing than he is

having that older sibling instinct, you find out quickly what he’s feeling surprising him bc he was sure he was hiding his emotions just as well as usual

he was sure he was right tho; he doesn’t deserve this chance, he should be the one 6 feet underground not odasaku, odasaku was the good person, odasaku was wrong abt him and oh is he crying?

you say nothing only pulling him closer to you placing his head in your chest letting him cry softly bc you just know he hasn’t done that in a long while

you stroke his hair between your fingers as you rub his back knowing that at the moment he just needs silent comfort

he notes in his head, that as usual, you’re patient with the mess of the brother you have

after he’s calmed down a bit you talk to him

your words are soft and kind but firm

no, you’re not going to get replaced

yes, the agency does care for you no matter how many times kunikida threatens to throw you out of a window

no, you truly aren’t as bad you think you are

yes, you deserve your place here on earth

and yes, whoever this odasaku you’ve been mumbling abt, yes, he would be proud of you

that night set a completely different tone for your sibling relationship

he wasn’t planning on spilling his emotions that night, but it just kind of happened

obviously, he still hasn’t told you everything and currently isn’t planning to anytime soon, but at the very least, his burden isn’t as heavy as it was before

and at the very most, the two of you are now a bit closer together

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on here or any other sites!

[chemicalpink]

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really,  who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

[thera-daydreams]

INDAY

± A Trese Fic ±

[Crispin/Basilio/Maliksi/Dominic x Skymaiden!Reader]

01: Noon at Ngayon (✓)

02: Ang Kambal na Anak ni Datu Talagbusao, Diyos ng Digmaan (Link)

03: Ang Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang (Link)

04: Ang Pinuno ng Mga Aswang (Link)

05: (Link) 06: (Link) 07: (Link)

01: Noon at Ngayon

Back then, long before you were born, your mother used to work as a katulong of the Trese Family and was very close to its matriarch, Miranda Trese. Coming from the province, she was no stranger to superstitions—even more so after knowing the work of Miranda's husband Anton Trese, who was actually the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila.

Years later, after giving birth to you around the same time Miranda gave birth to her twins (one a stillborn, unfortunately), it was you and Alexandra who became best buddies instead, as different your personalities were. You two had practically grown up together and you yourself heard countless stories of the supernatural from your Tito Anton. It wasn't that hard to believe when he and his sigbin companions would sometimes come home tracking blood prints on the floors (which you'd helped your mother clean up). Heck, you'd even met Señor Armanaz, the Great Stallion himself and the ruling tikbalang of the Armanaz herd. That pretty, white-haired diwata seemed extremely fond of you, too, which was evident when you'd sneak in with Alexandra to Tito Anton's meetings and she would smile (even wave) at you happily.

You had absolutely no idea why the fae-like lady was so nice to you, but you weren't complaining at all!

However, in spite of your experiences with the supernatural, you and your mother always believed that you were normal humans. In actuality, that was who you were for the majority of your childhood. It was only until Miranda herself saw a vision of you—a much older you—fighting the monsters of the Underworld alongside her own daughter. During dinnertime, Miranda told your mother that she saw you blessed by the heavens with powers that would aid in the battle against evil.

It sounded absolutely ridiculous, right? Yeah, your mom thought so, too.

Your mother only laughed it off as she placed a steaming bowl of tinola in front of Alexandra's brothers, who instantly dug in like they haven't been fed in years.

"Boys! Dahan-dahan lang," Anton reprimanded his sons. "Or else you'll choke and the soup will come out of your noses!"

"Okay, Papa."

"Grabe ka naman, Miranda. I doubt that anything like that's going to happen to my daughter," your mom chuckled, watching your little hands try to feed Alexandra with a piece of chicken. "Unlike you guys, our lineage isn't anything special. Ordinaryo lang ang lahi namin."

Miranda sighed, looking at you and her only living daughter enjoying your time being kids, "I guess you're right. Baka panaginip lang talaga 'yun."

Anton glanced at her knowingly. Although he was aware that you and your mom didn't dabble in magic or anything like they did, he knew that whenever Miranda—one of the Seven Seers—had such vivid dreams, it was something of great importance. But he decided to say nothing, understanding how much your mother wanted to let you live as normal of a life possible in this household.

That was when you were seven years old. One year later, Miranda died fighting against a group of aswang who decided to betray Anton. Said man found the eight-year-old Alexandra hiding in a corner behind the waterfalls, scared and holding Sinag close to her heaving chest as she tried to hold her tearful sobs in.

Of course, a few days later, you and your mother attended the funeral with the mourning Trese family. All the brothers had done their best to stay strong, especially for their little sister who didn't fully understand yet what just happened. Little you ran towards Alexandra, holding her hand tightly as her mother's casket was lowered. Around you were various comrades, both human and non-human, paying their respects to their bereaved allies.

That day, as you turned your back to return to your mother's arms, you knew you would never forget the feeling of numerous unearthly eyes following your every movement.

Even they could sense that there was something about you, a so-called regular human child. You smelled human and had the aura of one, but there was something they couldn't place. It was like a tiny rock getting into your shoe, not coming out at all.

Much changed after that, but you and Alexandra remained close together. To your dismay, just after you graduated elementary, you and your mother had to move back to the province to stay with your sick grandparents. The last thing you could remember was kneeling in the back of the car, looking sadly through the rear windscreen as Alexandra and her brothers waved goodbye to you.

More than a decade had passed since then. You used to write letters to Alexandra, but after Hank told you she had to undergo the trials of the Puno ng Balete, you haven't heard from her (although Hank did disclose that she'd managed to come home safely, which was a great relief to you). You didn't blame her; you knew Tito Anton had passed away in the five years she was gone and that she had to take over the title of Lakan, as well as the Babaylan-Mandirigma of Manila. It was a demanding job! You remembered Tito Anton sometimes staying up all night—breakfast would be served and he would still be in his study, going over paperwork. On other days, he would be gone for consecutive nights handling cases all around Manila. You could only pray Alexandra was fine.

Your life had continued on, as well—you took care of your ill grandparents until they died, helped your mother in the province, went to a good highschool, then earned your degree in another prominent city that wasn't Manila.

Your mom actually recommended that you go to school somewhere else, given the constantly rising number of attacks in the capital of the country. And so you did. Life was hard, but normal until then.

The funny thing was that, when you reached the age of twenty-one, you finally understood why those supernatural creatures kept looking at you weirdly as a kid (and why Lady Diwata liked you so much).

What was even funnier was that the dramatic revelation came to you when you weren't in the Philippines. It was after you freshly graduated college, when you were traveling all over Asia to volunteer in charity projects. It was always your dream to one day expand your horizons not only beyond your province, but the Philippines itself, while also doing good in the world.

And here you were, walking that path you dreamt of.

The organization you luckily managed to become a member of provided everything you needed, and every few months, you would move from country to country. Because of that, you'd already been able to travel to so many places. First it was Thailand, then Indonesia, China, South Korea, India, Japan, Sri Lanka, Singapore, Malaysia, and currently, you were in Vietnam. Visiting those places was fun and gave you a whole new perspective of the world you lived in; it was a... learning experience, too.

Still, that incident happened when you were in Thailand, when you were the last one in the rented apartment balcony taping up the boxes for the donation drive tomorrow. Yawning, you cut more duct tape and stuck them to the open boxes tightly.

"Inday," someone said from behind you. You didn't bother turning around, thinking it was one of your fellow volunteers looking for you this late at night. Probably your roommate. She was the only one who usually called you by your nickname instead of your real name.

"Hmm?" you hummed, taping up more boxes. "Papasok na ako sa kwarto, Lyn. I just have a few more boxes to close. Alam mong mapapagalitan ako kung may hindi madidistribute bukas."

"Hindi ako si Lyn."

You paused, then slowly turned around, flinching at the sudden bright light that shone right against your eyes. For a moment, akala mo namatay ka na at hinaharap mo si San Pedro.

It was a glowing figure in white whose face you couldn't clearly see, which frightened you even more.

"Ay, mama!" you exclaimed, shielding your eyes and falling to your knees. Then, you gasped loudly, patting your body and panicking with closed lids. "Oh my God, am I dead? Nasa heaven na po ba ako?" Your lips wobbled. "Ngayon pa nga lang ako nakaalis ng Pilipinas... I haven't even done all the things I've wanted to do! Hindi pa ako nakapagpaalam sa nanay ko—aray!"

You'd felt something hit the back of your head. Hard. It was the glowing figure in white, but now you could see their unimpressed face scowling at you.

"Kalma lang, Inday. Hindi ka pa patay, pero makinig ka nang mabuti," they shushed you urgently (you weren't sure if they were male or female). "Do not be afraid. I am a messenger from the heavens, and I bear great news!"

"Great news...?" you trailed off, then your eyes widened excitedly. "Like, nanalo ba ako ng lotto? Isang milyon? Bilyon? Hala! Wait, is this a Mama Mary moment? I'm not ready to be the next immaculate conception!"

They glared at you, making you shut up instantly. "Sorry, I'll shut up now," you apologized with a mumble. This person (thing?) was kind of... strict. Whatever did you do wrong? You were just sleep-deprived and running on energy drinks (as well as kape).

"I have come to tell you that you are the vessel of the last skymaiden," they revealed, arms wide open. The light around them seemed to grow even brighter, making you squint. You felt like you were about the go blind! "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N L/N."

At ayun, zero brain cells remaining. Tunay na nagloading screen ang brain mo. Nag-error at nagcrash pa nga siguro, eh.

"... Ha? Ano?"

You blinked, completely speechless—as seen by how wide your jaw had dropped open. It wasn't that you were unfamiliar with the biraddali, it was just that you'd only heard of them once when you were just a young child. Your Tita Miranda had mentioned they were long gone from the world of the supernatural.

"Oh no, me? A biraddali? You're joking," you stuttered out, pointing at yourself. "Aren't they extinct or something? And, uh... not human?"

They nodded, "Yes. It is correct that everyone in the mystical world thought that the biraddali were long gone, even before the colonizers came to conquer the native lands. However, before the skymaidens all disappeared, the youngest and most powerful one among the seven sisters sealed her soul away to the rivers of time until the strength of a heavenly being was needed to help purify the evils of the world." The figure floated closer to you. "That last biraddali's soul, along with its corresponding power, traits, and knowledge, had chosen to reside deep within you the moment you were conceived."

Honestly, how were you even supposed to react? Your life was nowhere near ready for something like this. Was this a prank by your friends? Your colleagues? The light around this person seemed too authentic to be fake, though.

You stayed in shock for an entire minute, silent. The being in front of you only waited for a response.

"Ano 'to, Sailor Moon? Winx Club?" you whispered to yourself, before slapping your own cheek and scolding yourself. A stinging red mark was left on your face. "Inday, kakamanhwa mo 'yan! Nasosobraan ka na ata, matulog ka na!"

Sighing heavily, you rubbed your face tiredly, still in disbelief that you—according to this stranger—were apparently some old soul from a species of ethereal beings that were long gone. It sounded like something out of those reincarnation webnovels you got addicted to. What now, you were the MC? Wattpad ka, girl?

"Look, this is a mistake. I still have to wake up early tomorrow to give out the donations," you spoke to the glowing being (or whatever it was), laughing nervously. "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person. Either that or I must be hallucinating from sleep deprivation, because I'm definitely not a divine creature. You're probably just a product of my imagination. Sorry, I'm going to bed."

Bang!

At that moment, the power in the building went out. The only thing you could see was the thing who assumed you were a biraddali (they were so bright they were like a flashlight in the dark for you).

"Brownout?" you blinked. It felt wrong, though. It was eerily silent. "Did a fuse blow up?"

"Nagsimula na ang iyong unang pagsubok, Y/N," they announced seriously. "Creatures of the dark have already begun to take over this building. You may not have noticed, but all throughout your life, you have always been helping and giving. It is your nature as a being descended from the heavens themselves, and now, it is time for you to accept your destiny."

"Hoy, sandali lang! Sandali, sandali!" You were absolutely wide awake now as you heard the sounds of strange whispers around you. It was terrifyingly creepy, much creepier than whatever you'd seen back in the Trese Residence (and you'd seen a lot in that house). You did not want to be a part of a horror movie-like lifestyle. "Don't I have a choice in this?! I—I don't have any training or fighting skills! Hindi ako Alexandra Trese o Babaylan-Mandirigma! I'm not ready for this, holy sh—"

The candescent creature raised a brow at you, "Inday, I just told you that you have the power of a lost mystical being. And tell me, if you had the power to save your companions in this building from the forces of evil, would you save them?"

You were silent, knowing the answer.

"Well?" they prodded.

You bit your lip, "Oo naman. I'm not heartless!" But you were a little impulsive. And apparently, insane.

"That's what I thought. I just need you to believe in yourself," the being encouraged, gentler this time. It transformed into something smaller and rounder—like a ball of light. "Ikaw ang huling biraddali, Y/N, at marami kang kapangyarihan. Isa dito ay ang pagtulong sa mga nangangailangan, lalo na laban sa masasamang nilalang."

Bestie, what had you just gotten into?

You swallowed apprehensively, then nodded in determination, "Sige. So, how do I save the people in the building? Biraddali were said to be able to shapeshift, right? If I remember the tale correctly. Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening to me right now."

"That's just one of your abilities, but I'll teach you. I'm actually your guide," they replied confidently. "With me, you'll be able to master your powers and exceed your capabilities in no time!"

"Wait! Anong pangalan mo?" you asked breathlessly, following them as they speedily flew out of the room. "Grabe, slow down! I'm not athletic! I haven't even exercised this week, goodness."

"... Gabay. Ako si Gabay."

Despite the adrenaline and fear running in your veins, you still grinned up at the ball of light, "Okay. Nice to meet you, Gabay."

This was just the beginning of your supernatural combat training abroad. When you returned to the Philippines three years later, you were stronger, faster, and more powerful than you'd ever felt before. It was crazy.

Oh, that guy who tried to rob you when you came back to Manila was crazy, too. The two identical-looking men in dark suits and white ties—you wondered how they were surviving the heat in that attire—could only watch in awe as you chased down that man who stole your bag while doing acrobatics and parkour.

"Uy, Kuya Crispin, sino kaya 'yun?"

"Ewan ko, Basilio."

"... She's kind of pretty. Type ko. Type mo rin ata."

"The more important question is, paano niya na nahuli ang magnanakaw?"

"Oo nga, no? One in a million chance 'yan dito sa Maynila, haha! Ang astig ni ate!"

(Next Chapter.)

± Author's Notes ±

Ayieee, type daw tayo ng kambal! 😌

How the hell did I write this entirely random thing in one day? 2k+ words? Ano daw? 😃⁉️

You know, this was supposed to just be a Trese one-shot or a bunch of drabbles for the characters I'm currently simping for... but it turned into a full-blown, shameless self-insert slash crackfic. Kakacellphone ko 'yan. 🤦‍♀️

Nagresearch pa ako ng articles about Filipino skymaidens because I wanted something similiar to the Japanese celestial maidens (tennyo). Very random idea but why not? Gusto ko ng badass Y/N na hindi takot lumaban sa mga mumu! 👻

Also, pagbigyan niyo nalang ang matandang 'to kasi ilang taon na akong hindi nagpopost ng mga writings ko. May track record pa naman ako bilang author na hindi nagtatapos ng mga fanfic, hehe. I also haven't read the comics so please forgive me for any inaccuracies and of course, misspellings/errors. Gusto ko lang matapos 'to para makakabalik na ako sa Jujutsu Kaisen. 🥲😗

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Hit those heart, reblog, and follow buttons for updates! Just comment if you want to be tagged in the next chapters. ❤

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (arranged marriage Au)

Part 1 is here, finally! Title a reference to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Read it on Ao3 HERE

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Vesemir’s slap hit Geralt firmly on the back of the head. Two seconds previously Geralt had been complaining about his upcoming, politically motivated marriage to some nobleman’s son. 

“It’s a good thing, lad. Other witcher schools would kill for something like this,” he said. Geralt knew it was right, legal punishment for those who shortchanged or attacked witchers. It set a precedent, and apparently the earl was very influential. It could change things.

“And there isn’t a fidelity clause,” Eskel said. “It doesn’t have to be more than a sort of partnership.”

“No consummation requirement either,” sniggered Lambert from the other side of the campfire. “You don’t even have to fuck the bugger if he’s ugly.” This earned him a sharp elbow from Eskel. 

“What I don’t understand is what they get out of this,” Geralt said. It had been bugging him. 

“Ah,” Vesemir said, looking uneasy. “It seems that the payment is...taking the viscount off of the Earl’s hands, officially. It seems he’s something of an embarrassment.”

The unease in Vesemir’s voice was subtle, but after so many decades with their teacher, the wolves of Kaer Morhen knew the slight variations of tone and expression. His discomfort was twofold, first, the obvious implication that the Earl was sending his son to live a dangerous life alongside a witcher in order to...deal with him. A death sentence, from father to son. The second was that Geralt, already saddled with a political marriage, was also to be saddled with a nuisance of a husband. 

“But why me?” Geralt knew he was whining like a child, but he couldn’t help it. It was three days to Lettenhove, and then they’d be there at least a week for the wedding and he’d have to act courtly. 

He wasn’t good at courtly.

When he thought about it none of them were. 

“It couldn’t have been me,” Eskel said, a little shyly. He was right. Eskel believed his scars were horrible, made him unlovable and undesirable. Geralt didn’t buy it, but nobles could get a bit stroppy about appearances. And if they humiliated Eskel because of his scarring...no, Geralt wouldn’t let that happen.

“Couldn’t have been me,” Lambert said, mouth full and rather cheerfully. No. It couldn’t have been him either, no manners and no filter, they’d be at war with the entirety of Lettenhove within a day.

“And I’m an old man,” Vesemir said. He didn’t actually wink, but he might as well have. Older though he was, he was still three times the warrior of any young human man walking about these days. But from what Geralt had heard, and it hadn’t been much, the Viscount was young, not quite twenty, and it wouldn’t be kind to marry him to someone so much older than himself. Geralt reflected grimly that he was nearly four times the youth’s age.

Three days of riding passed far too quickly for Geralt’s liking.

Chateau de Lettenhove loomed. It was a fairytale castle built by a man expecting a siege. There were high, rising towers with huge windows and artful buttresses, but to the trained eye of the witchers, it was a fortress. The towers had carved, decorative arrow slits, the windows all had iron grates over them, wrought like lace, and the buttresses could be easily used as defensive positions. All in all, it was a castle that growled, albeit genteelly.

They were greeted first by a footman, and then a line of servants increasing in rank, until a very snobby servant, likely the head housekeeper from the way all the maids scuttled away from her, brought them to an anteroom. At this point courtesy dictated that she bade them sit down on one of the lavish sofas. She did not. She chose instead to turn up her nose and sweep away.

The four witchers remained standing, not looking at one another. Geralt could feel Lambert stewing about the obvious slight beside him. He reached out, still staring straight ahead, and tweaked Lambert’s ear. 

This was about to result in much brotherly retribution and probably a brawl when the housekeeper returned, followed by another woman.

“His lordship the Earl of Lettenhove is attending to vital business,” the housekeeper said, tone of voice implying that the arrival of four witchers who were muddying her nice clean floor were certainly not vital. “I present, her ladyship, Countess Amaria Elizaveta de Lettenhove.” 

The countess curtsied, it was a polite little bob, and she smiled a little dazedly as the witchers all gave their best attempt at courtly bows. A small but significant part of Geralt’s brain was panicking, and it dealt with this new form of terror by imagining that the school of the wolf, seen from the outside plying their newly practiced bows, must look like a line of seagulls vying for a dropped crumb.

Vesemir stepped forward and, in a rather more suave gesture than Geralt had been expecting, took the Countess’ hand and bowed over it. Two bows seemed excessive to Geralt, but since it seemed to indicate that Vesemir would be taking over the speaking for now, he certainly wasn’t about to bring it up. 

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Vesemir said, straightening and releasing her hand. “May I introduce the school of the wolf. Eskel is--”

The countess had waved a limp hand. “Plenty of time for that at the feast, deary,” she said, smiling dreamily. There was something in her eyes that was a little absent, possibly more than a little if her calling Vesemir ‘deary’ was anything to go by. Geralt looked the countess over. He had been given to understand through the brief letters from the Lettenhove estate, that this wasn’t the viscount-Julian, the letters said-’s mother, but rather his step mother. She was a petite lady with mousy hair and rather absent blue eyes. Her dress was obviously of very fine material, rose pink and probably silk, although Lambert would know better than him, but a simpler cut than Geralt had expected. 

His examination, done in a split second, decided that she wasn’t an immediate enemy, but probably not a terrible useful ally. 

“I’m to give you this courting gift,” here she proffered a small but beautifully carved wooden box. “And to show you to your quarters.” She smiled again, and it was warm, but still vapid.

“Custom usually dictates that the fiancé give the courting gift,” Vesemir said, cautiously taking the box.”

“My husband wanted someone else to present it,” she said. “But your grandson can give his gift in person when he meets Julian. Now what...” she trailed off, not even noticing Vesemir’s slight sputter at grandson. “Ah yes, your rooms, right this way please.”

She got lost on the way to their rooms and a shaking footman showed them up to a suite, then kindly took her by the hand and led her away.

They sat, silent, in the nice but not lavish quarters. Four beds in curtained alcoves off to the side, and in the middle a room with a table and chairs, and a sofa and more comfortable chairs in front of a fireplace. It was already blazing and the witchers stared into it for a minute.

“That was strange,” Eskel finally said, and the others just nodded.

“Should I have insisted on giving her our courting gift?” Geralt said after another pause. “I thought they were usually given in person.”

“I think you’re fine,” Vesemir said. “If they broke that tradition they can hardly fault you for doing the same.”

Lambert, sprawled across the sofa, said, “When’s dinner?”

“I think I’m supposed to meet Julian first,” Geralt said. “Someone will probably come get us. 

“When we meet Julian you mean,” Lambert said, sitting up. 

“No, I’ve been thinking about that and I want to meet him alone.”

Vesemir nodded, “Sensible, we don’t know how he will react to one witcher, let alone four.” Then he smirked, although not unkindly, at Lambert. “You will be introduced and have a chance to be nosy later. At dinner perhaps.”

They unpacked their belongings, potion bottles and swords looking out of place along the old but nicely carved furniture. After days of tension on the road as Geralt wound himself tighter and tighter with anxiety for his...wedding, yes his wedding, now this pause was jarring. Eskel tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a look.

Geralt turned around to give Eskel room to work.

On the Path, witchers are rarely, if ever touched. Certainly not in a friendly way if the other isn’t being compensated. It wasn’t therefore, unusual for the wolves of Kaer Morhen to be tactile with one another. Not hugging and cuddling sweetly, but rough housing and wrestling ending in exhausted dog piles. But Eskel had a gift, he had magic hands, literally and figuratively, and he carefully oiled his hands while Geralt took off his travel stained shirt. 

Geralt sunk into himself, half meditating as Eskel dragged the tension from his shoulders and beat the knots from his muscles. It wasn’t a relaxing massage, but it always left him feeling like liquid, if slightly bruised. When it was over and the liquid feeling had left him, or at least subsided enough that his knees could hold him, he stood, clapping Eskel on the shoulder in thanks.

Then came the hard bit.

Geralt needed to be courtly. He scrubbed the bits he could with water and a cloth from a little washstand, but he hoped he could have a hot bath later. Afterwards Vesemir advanced on him and battled the dirt from underneath his fingernails with a stiff brush before attacking his hair with a comb. Geralt sat on the ground like a child, his brothers looking on in amusement as Vesemir sat behind him on the couch and teased the tangles from his hair. He was making faces, he knew, but Vesemir wasn’t gentle, and he hadn’t detangled his hair in some time.

Scrubbed raw, with his hair floating around his shoulders like a silver cloud, Lambert presented him with a doublet. 

It was black, which was good.

That was the only good thing about it. It was most likely a very nice, extremely fashionable doublet. Lambert might take delight in embarrassing Geralt, but he didn’t mess about with clothing. The issue was that it was attention grabbing, it was subtle in a way that seemed to play itself down while actually drawing every eye. It was black, in the same way a raven’s wing was black, every shimmering shade shifting as the fabric moved.

And he would be wearing it. 

He did wear it. 

His hands shook as he buttoned it up. 

He was just examining himself in a slightly tarnished hand mirror when there was a sharp knock at the door. The footman let himself in right after and bowed swiftly. 

“I am to escort the witchers of Kaer Morhen to meet Lord Julian.”

“Just the one witcher,” Geralt said. Vesemir pressed his courting gift, and the little carved boxed nestled on top, into his arms.

The footman didn’t seem to care and simply turned away, leading Geralt through hallways that all looked the same and down two very winding staicases, the second of which was so narrow his shoulders actually brushed the walls. They stopped outside a plain wooden door. The footman bowed and smiled. It looked, Geralt couldn’t help but feel, rather cruel. Then he left. Geralt knocked softly on the door, feeling very large in the narrow, low ceilinged hallway.

Eskel had told him once of a myth he had read, about a beast, half man half bull, hidden away in a maze. Geralt felt like such a beast, too large and rough and probably going to barge in and do everything wrong.

“Come in.” 

It was soft, but not nervous, and Geralt pushed open the door. 

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Oooh I’m naughty for leaving it there, but it’s almost 2000 words already. @llamasdumpsterfire here it is at last, I hope it lives up to expectations.

[birlwrites]

scrapbook snippet: the ice prince

this is a preview, really, because i'm showing you evan's thought process a few handfuls of chapters down the line as opposed to the current point in ttdl. nonetheless, i felt like posting it now lol.

so: we give evan a chance to tell us what he thinks. truthfully? .......mayhaps.

*

The title of 'Slytherin ice prince' is a recurring one, or at least that's what Evan has gathered from the way his family talks about their time at Hogwarts.

There's no formal decision process—everyone just knows. Slytherin doesn't always have one, although Katherine says Lucius Malfoy thought (mistakenly) that it was him. But Malfoy apparently wears authority like full plate armor, intimidating but clunky. Ten or so years ago, it was a Zabini; twenty years before that, it would have been Abraxas Malfoy if not for some unknown who apparently charmed him into losing the cool exterior. Before that, it was a Nott, and before that, a Pierce, if there's any merit to the stories from Evan's older relatives.

It's never been a Rosier, but that's not a surprise. Rosiers aren't cool or aloof. They're charming, mercurial, even melodramatic. It's a fun way to move through the world, but it used to grate on Evan, knowing that by virtue of his name he was destined to be seen as flighty, shallow, better as a dinner guest than a political ally.

He's used to the idea now. It has its merits.

It wasn't always that way, though. For a short while, Evan wanted to be serious—refused to add to his house's reputation, kept a straight face whenever possible, tried to persuade himself that he didn't care about fun things. When he was little, he'd even vaguely entertained the idea of being the first Rosier ice prince. (Which, in hindsight, probably should have tipped him off that he was a boy, but whatever. He put it together eventually.)

Then he'd met Regulus Black and thrown that idea right out the window.

Everyone just knows, and Evan knew. Even at five years old, bookish and introverted bordering on antisocial, Regulus carried himself like royalty. (Which was hilarious to Evan at the time, because every time a group of children their age would be put in a room together while their parents had lunch or tea, other children would flock to Regulus, which interfered with his reading and made him very snappish. But after a while Regulus stopped snapping, and eventually he stopped sneaking books with him everywhere he went as well. Sometimes Evan misses that Regulus who openly hated being forced to take his nose out of a book, especially when it meant interacting with other people.)

So when Regulus started forming his own personal third side of the war, Evan knew instantly that the Junior Death Eater League or whatever they call themselves (which is probably not the Junior Death Eater League) stood no chance. Regulus would siphon off all of their recruits for himself and leave Mulciber and his friends in the dust, rejected and embarrassed.

It wasn't a move Evan had expected from Regulus of all people. Barty's always itching for a way to get back at his father, and Evan was fully expecting him, at least, to dive wholeheartedly into the Death Eaters. Regulus himself doesn't like getting his hands dirty. Yet there they were, shaking the very bedrock of politics—not just for Slytherin, and not just for Hogwarts, but for the entirety of the British magical world.

Naturally, Evan was suspicious. The question that's been instilled in him since he was old enough to understand it is 'why bother?' Inaction is easier than action, and in this case, it is certainly much safer.

So. Why bother?

Because Slytherin is dominated by the kind of people whose ambitions extend to a Wizengamot seat or a certain number of Galleons in a bank vault or seeing their face on magazine covers. Ambitious, yes, but not the type of people who have books written about them. Not the type of people whose names pass into legend. Not like Regulus, clawing his way to a destiny of his own making.

(And partially of Evan's making, if he gets his way.)

Regulus isn't the type to settle. Not for second best, not for spare, not for mediocrity most of all.

That's 'why bother.'

The point is, Evan's always known Regulus is the prince. All Evan needs to do is make sure there's a place for him in the court. As for what he'll do with it... the beauty is that really, he can do whatever he wants.

Such is the merit of being a flighty, shallow dinner guest. No one pays attention to what he might be doing under the table.

[spencersawkward]

hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ‘wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

“come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.  

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

[free-pool-trash]

everything - peter maximoff

PART 2 TO DISAPPOINTMENT (you can read it on its own but it might be a tiny bit confusing)

hey guys, i missed peter and i hope this makes you guys feel better abt the first part of this fic <33

comments/reblogs/asks always appreciated <3

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, panic attack, fluff, probably some mistakes its 3:33am 😩✋🏻

summary: peter comes to your new reality <3

masterlist

His fingers drummed rapidly against the metal table located in the jet hanger, beneath the basketball court. Hank waited too, although, the beast was considerably calmer than Peter was at the moment.

“The radio has been quiet for like twenty minutes… do you think something went wrong?” Peter forced the words out in quick succession as he gnawed on his lips.

Hank sighed as that was the fourth time Peter had asked that question, every five minutes for the past twenty minutes- like clockwork, he’d asked Hank the same thing. The only varient was that the question started with, “It’s been five minutes...,” then, “It’s been ten minutes…,” to, “it’s been fifteen minutes…”

Hank understood that the boy was nervous, he was too, afterall Peter wasn’t the only one with a girlfriend on the uncharacteristically sketchy mission. However, if Peter asked him the same question one more time, he’d turn blue out of annoyance.

“Peter, I’m begging you to stop asking. They’re probably fine, the mutant’s energy surges probably just fried the radio,” Hank explained, trying to sound convincing for his and Peter’s peace of mind.

Peter gaped in response, “And that doesn’t worry you?”

Hank threw his head back with exhaustion and groaned, “Of course it does,” he started, running his hands down his face before continuing, “But stressing out about it isn’t going to do anyone any good. All we can do is wait for them to get back,” he finished, fixing Peter with a stern look as he’d began to bounce his knee relentlessly- annoyingly.

His fingers drumming faster than the human eye could see, his knee jolting at a similar speed, a feeling of unmistakable dread had started forming in the boy’s stomach, and no amount of finger tapping or knee bouncing could make it go away.

He had a feeling in his gut, one that he wouldn’t be able to back up with any type of logic or reason, but regardless, he had a feeling seated deep in the pit of his stomach that told him, extremely definitely, that something wasn’t right.

As best he could for the next hour and a half, Peter tried to stay quiet. Leaving the hanger to run laps around the basketball court; his attempt at exerting some nervous energy, his attempts were fruitless though as all he could focus on was that feeling in his bones that told him that you, his longtime girlfriend, were in danger. What only served to amplify his anxiety was the fact that if something terrible had indeed happened to you at the hands of the reality jumping mutant; there probably wasn’t much he could do to reverse it.

The conversation he’d shared with you last night rang through his head while he weighed up every possible outcome of your situation, and in conjunction; the situation he could possibly find himself in.

“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.

He meant it, he knew he meant it. Peter Maximoff had never been so sure of a fact in his entire existence; he’d follow you anywhere. His issue was that anywhere usually didn’t extend to alternate realities, but to him, if it meant rescuing you, he’d figure out a way to work out the kinks. Peter shook the thoughts from his head, he needed to be rational. You were probably fine, but yet again, he found last night's words echoing in his brain, the promise you’d made rattling around the confines of his head as violently as a screen door during a hurricane.

“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.”

When his heart began to beat out of control, he stopped running at lightning speed in favour of leaning against a thick tree adjacent to the basketball court. Aiming to steady his pulse he briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He thought about you; about how you’d play with his fingers to stop him from drumming them, how you’d cause any and all of his intrusive thoughts to be ejected from his mind when your lips would meet his in surprise kisses, or how you’d drape your arms around his shoulders and rest your cheek against his chest at random times. Those were the small interactions that brought him the greatest amount of serenity. Just as his heartbeat returned to its usual overactive pace, the jet you’d left on earlier was flying overhead.

Peter rushed back to the hanger, nervous energy at an all time high when the jet landed before him and Hank. Peter bounced on the heels of his feet as he waited for you to bound into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. But that didn’t happen.

Peter’s heart dropped into that familiar pit in his stomach when Raven and Charles stepped out of the plane, looking crestfallen and solemn when their eyes met Peter’s wide, fear filled, brown eyes.

Before anyone could say a word, Peter sped into the plane, unfortunately confirming his suspicions; you weren’t there. Only a second later, the boy was back in his original spot in front of Charles and Raven.

“She better not be where I think she is right now or I swear to God, man-“ Peter began to threaten as Hank let out a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Peter,” Raven placed her hand on his shoulder when he looked like he was about to hyperventilate, Charles had yet to speak, no doubt trying to find an appropriate way to tell a young mutant that the only constant in his life, his only pacer, had been lost on a mission due to his negligence.

“Where is she? Tell me where she is, I’ll go get her I can be there in back in like five minutes just-“ Peter immediately rushed to speak, ignoring Hank’s confused gaze and Charles’ pained grimace.

“Slow down, bud,” Hank voiced when Peter neared the point of vibrating where he stood.

“The mutant, Galan, he said he’d bring her back, if, and only if, we complied with his demands,” Charles started to explain, grimacing again when Raven cut him off rather bluntly.

“But we can’t. His demands are insane.” She glared at Charles as she spoke, she believed that he shouldn’t have even brought up the option in front of Peter, there was absolutely no way they could accept the deranged mutant’s demands, Charles knew that, and Raven hadn’t wanted to give Peter false hope.

“So what?” Peter yelled, anger replacing nervousness. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. You’d warned them it was a bad idea. It could’ve been avoided. Had he been there, he could’ve saved you. “So what, she's just gone? My girl is just gone and what? I’m supposed to just be okay with it?” He seethed, his breath heavy while his chest heaved with rage.

When, after a moment, nobody spoke, Peter shook his head, “Come on you guys… you’re not seriously considering leaving her in some wacked out world all by herself, are you?” His voice sounded pleading, like a child, stripped raw and entirely vulnerable in a way that made them all wish they’d been more careful, hell, even Hank felt guilty and he hadn’t even been there. He, too, had been against the whole mission in the first place, actually.

“We’re really sorry, Peter,” was all Charles said before he exited the room, Raven stayed rooted in place though, at a loss for what to say or do next.

Peter swallowed thickly, his throat closing and his heart pumping at a rapid rate as tears welled in his eyes and oxygen seemed to disappear from his general area when the reality of the situation set in. You were gone, he’d get you back; even if it took him the rest of his life he’d get you back, but right in that moment, you were just gone. He hadn’t heard Hank’s and Raven’s “Woah!”s as the silver haired boy stumbled on his feet, his knees buckling before he had a chance to steady himself. Nor could he hear the gut wrenching rasps that left his mouth as he slipped into a panic attack that would surely result in him passing out.

“Peter,” Raven was in front of his face, but it wasn’t right- no, you were the one who talked him down, not Raven, it wasn’t right. “—you need to calm down, breath—“ her voice was distorted, as if he was hearing her from beneath a surface of water.

The older woman looked to Hank in desperation, he only furrowed his brow and gradually lowered Peter to the ground. He watched as the speedster rasped and muttered, he only managed to pick up a few words, his heart pulling with each one.

Hank rubbed a soothing hand up and down Peter’s back, while Raven prompted him to breath, eventually they managed to get through to the boy, though, Hank could tell it was more a matter of him having worn himself out.

“You’re alright,” Hank tried to soothe but Peter only whimpered.

He sniffled and met Hank’s gaze, hollowly and miserably, his lips quivering as her spoke in a desperate whisper, “I have to get her back, man. I just have to.”

*

The kettle screeched out a whistle from the kitchen, letting yourself and Wanda know the water was boiled, “I’ll get it,” you told her, you stood from the porch steps, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder on your way in as she gave you a grateful smile.

It’d been a few months since Wanda had sought you out after WestView broke down, you recalled the words she spoke fondly; “You don’t have to be alone. Remember what I said when we first met? We could help each other.”

Of course, you’d agreed to go on the run with her. And true enough, you’d both been extremely helpful to each other. She was a true friend and if nothing else, she was a bright light in the confused foreign world. As much as you adored Wanda, and as much as she adored you, neither of you were so naive as to think you weren’t still swamped in a pool of loneliness, craving for what you’d both respectively lost.

“Wands, was it peppermint you wanted?” You called from the kitchen, grinning slightly when she responded.

“Ya! With honey!” She yelled softly, “Please!”

Dutifully, you made the two cups of tea before returning to your spot next to Wanda on the steps, holding the hot cup between your hands and breathing in the minty steam. The scenery that surrounded you was gorgeous, nothing short of breathtaking. Rolling hills, huge lakes and flower fields that surrounded the cabin gave it the vibe of something plucked right from a storybook. If it was taking yours and Wanda’s story into consideration, you thought, it’d be one tragically dark storybook, but all the good classics were like that, you supposed.

Despite the eye catching backdrop, your mind was elsewhere today, more so than usual.

Wanda’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “May I ask you something?”

Taking a sip from your tea you gave her an amused smile from over the rim of your ceramic cup, “Always.”

With that, Wanda turned her body to face you and you mirrored her action, then, she tilted her head curiously, “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t want to pry,” she began causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Never stopped you before,” Wanda rolled her eyes, but smiled, continuing to her actual inquiries.

“When we were in WestView, you woke up a few times, but only when the imposter acting as my brother was near you,” you let out a heavy sigh, which stopped her in her tracks. This conversation had been brewing for a while, you could see it in the way Wanda sometimes hesitated before bringing up certain topics.

“In my reality, I have a boyfriend. He’s my everything, really,” you told her, staring blankly out into the fields as you spoke, “We’ve been together since we broke his father out of a high security prison together in ‘73– did I ever tell you that our timelines are different?” You wondered, losing the thread of your thoughts as you recalled the most significant few days of your life that had transpired in 1973, when you and Peter were just eighteen. It was only five years ago for you, but in this reality, the 70s were more than forty years ago.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she reminded you and you nodded, clearing your throat and getting back to the explanation that Wanda was expecting.

“Well, he’s a mutant like me. He’s got super speed, like your Pietro. His birth name is actually Pietro but he hates it, had it changed to Peter when he moved to the states— kids used to pick on him for it,” you explained, laughing lightly, thinking about the way his nose would scrunch up cutely when you’d call him Pietro.

“That man in WestView… he was identical to my Peter and he had the mutation and… his last name is Maximoff so, I don’t know, I guess it made sense that he’d be playing your brother. When we met I thought nobody was ever going to come for me, then I saw him and I was so happy…” Wanda rested a gentle hand on your knee when your face grew mournful.

“I thought he’d come to save me, bring me home, you know? But it wasn’t him at all, just some guy called Ralph Bohner,” you shrugged with a small pout, attempting to diffuse the weight of the confession with a light, humourless chuckle, “Stupid name.”

Wanda fixed you with a genuine smile, “Tell me about him,” she promoted and you sighed, dreamily this time.

“He’s kind, and funny, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known— seriously, I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is look at me and everything would feel better,” Wanda’s smile widened, she understood, her Pietro had that effect on her too.

“He’s honest, he’s so good hearted but he can be so full of mischief sometimes, he’s a huge prankster back home,” you paused, biting back a smile for a second, then carried on, “He’s got killer taste in music, before we actually started dating he used to lend me his favourite vinyls and make me mixtapes… he used to write crap on the top of the cassettes with black sharpie, like, “kinda cool songs for a sorta cool girl” or, and this is my personal favourite, “songs that make me think of you”, he drew a little winky face so, naturally, I thought it was going to be super cute,” your own laughter cut you off, Wanda’s mingled with yours and she raised her eyebrows.

“And was it?” She asked, chuckling when you shook your head, your smile the widest she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t help but smile too, the more you told her about him, the more she realised he really was just the alternate version of her brother.

“The only song on the whole thing was ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye!” Wanda threw her head back in laughter, your cheeks hurt from smiling but your heart felt lighter having spoken about the boy you love.

Once she’d stopped laughing, Wanda took you in before speaking the thing she’d been thinking about since you became friends, “You know, I think Pietro would’ve liked you very much,” she joined you in staring off into the fields, “Peter sounds a lot like him.”

“You’d like him, I think,” Wanda nudged her knee against hers and sipped her tea.

“I hope I get to meet him someday,” she stated, causing your tone to dampen ever so slightly as you agreed.

“I hope so too.”

*

Peter hadn’t slept in weeks, by now, the speedster was running on nothing but twinkies and redbull. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep really, he’d left the mansion almost two weeks ago on what he was calling a solo mission. By solo mission he meant; finding the mutant that sent you to another reality and asking him, politely, to just plop him wherever he sent you. He had no return plan, but he knew what the X-Men had planned, well, more specifically Erik. He was going to kill Galan, and if that happened that eliminated every chance Peter had of getting his soulmate back.

Peter made a choice the second he left the mansion, he’d rather be in an alternate reality with you than in this reality without you.

Besides, he was sick of his friends telling him he should “move on”, you’d only been gone six months and everyone was acting like waiting for you was a hopeless waste of time, it was driving him insane.

You were it for him, he wouldn’t move on for as long as he lived and he knew you felt the same, but, regardless of that, he wanted to find you sooner rather than later.

Your side of the bed didn’t smell like you anymore, your favourite blanket (which Peter had shoved in his rucksack that he brought with him) didn’t hold the same warmth as it did when you’d wrap it around his shoulders. To put things simply, missing you was eating him alive.

He was following leads to get to Galan and finally, in a dingy motel in some lesser known area of the south, Peter found him.

“You’re one of the X-Men aren't you? Here to agree to my terms? Took you long enough,” the mutant spoke lowly, his grumbling voice all the more intimidating in the dimly lit room.

Peter stood awkwardly, out of place, while the mutant stared at him expectantly, “Uh, no, actually,” Peter finally managed to choke out after a moment of silence.

Galan scoffed, “Look, like I told your buddies; I’m not bringing the girl back-“

Peter shook his head, cutting Galan off frantically, “I don’t need you to bring her back. I want you to send me to her,” Galan raised a scarred eyebrow at the young man in front of him, he looked like all hell, bags under his eyes so prominent they almost didn’t look real. He had something of a nervous quality about him, Galan thought.

“You’re Quicksilver, am I correct?” Peter simply nodded his head in confirmation and Galan rolled his shoulders, “I gotta admit, it’d be nice to get you out of my way.”

Peter looked at him pleadingly, “So? Will you send me to her?”

Galan nodded his head, there was no downside for him, really. “Don’t see why not. But humour me for a second, kid. What’s so special about this girl?” Galan asked, a smirk on his face that unnerved Peter.

Peter took in a deep breath and looked Galan straight in the eyes, “I love her, she’s sorta my other half. I’m a total loser without her,” Peter tried to sound aloof but his body language and pleading gaze weren’t fooling anyone.

Galan snorted out a laugh, muttering something along the lines of “Ah, young love” but that was the last thing Peter heard before the world around him faded away.

When he came to, all he knew was that he was freezing, which was saying something considering he was nearly always too warm. He jolted into a sitting position, darkness surrounded him and all he could smell was grass and a very faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the distance. After a few seconds, Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and all he could gather was that he was somewhere very, very hilly. The noises of wild animals in the distance spurred Peter to get onto his feet and start running.

He ran for maybe one minute until he reached a cozy looking wood cabin. The lights were off but smoke still poured from the chimney.

Too cold and too exhausted to think too much, Peter walked up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door.

“Hey, uh, anyone home?” He called when nobody came to the door after a few minutes. Just as he was contemplating running away a girl he didn’t recognise opened the door. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock, Peter wasn’t sure why.

“Come in,” she told him immediately, and again, Peter didn’t question it, the strawberry blonde led him to a sofa and motioned for him to sit down, with a flick of her hand the fire sparked to life and Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whoever this girl was, she was a mutant like him. “I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”

Wanda practically ran into your room, shaking you awake roughly, a crazed smile on her face like a child on Christmas, “Y/n, wake up!”

You cracked your eyes open with a groan and hid your face against your pillow, “What?” You asked in a whine and Wanda would’ve been endeared by how much of a child you were when you were sleepy, had it not been for the love of your life sitting on your living room sofa.

“Just come on, will you? You’ll sleep better once you see this,” she prompted, you let out a weak groan but threw your duvet off your legs anyway, sluggishly following Wanda into the living room, your fuzzy socks helping you shuffle over the hardwood floors without needing to lift your feet off the ground too much.

“It’s like 3am, Wands, this better be—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp immediately upon seeing him, “Peter?” You asked, this time you had to be sure.

His own eyes widened and before he could even consider giving you a verbal answer, you were completely encompassed by his arms, but that was all the answer you needed.

A choked sob left your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, his back shook and his tears were already soaking through your tee shirt, letting you know he was crying too.

“Y/n,” he muttered against you, pressing feverish kisses all over your face while he took in your appearance, “You’re okay?”

You nodded your head, eyes watery and smile shaky. Yours hands cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing the tears away from under his tired eyes, “I’m okay.”

Peter’s eyes continued to rack over you, his fatigue catching up to him as your soft thumbs stroked his cheekbones, “When was the last time you slept, Pete?” A sleepy smile formed on his lips at the sound of your voice, he would never be able to articulate how deeply he’d missed you.

“S’been a few weeks,” he answered and your eyes widened.

With a sad smile, you placed a kiss on his cheek before taking both of his hands in your own, “C’mon, you need rest so you can answer all the questions I plan on asking you in the morning.”

Wanda, it seemed, had already slinked back to her own room.

Once you arrived in your bedroom, Peter shimmied out of his jeans before crawling into your warm bed and opening his arms, beckoning you in. You didn’t need any convincing, you happily crawled into bed and let Peter wrap his arms around you as you laid your cheek against his chest.

“I have so many things to say but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out,” Peter said softly, squeezing you against him as closely as possible, burying his nose in your hair and sighing gently.

As gently as you could, you leaned up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, “You can say everything you need to say when you wake up.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered, chasing your lips with his languidly, “You’re my everything, you know that?” Of course, you wouldn’t know how much weight the statement held just yet, that didn’t matter to Peter, though. He had you back, the other details didn’t seem so important anymore.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 8

Request: Yes or No

Sam and y/n had more development than y/n and Wanda lmao

~

You crossed your arms as you entered the room, glancing at the older man. You shared a look with Sam and Wanda, taking a seat in between Sam and Vision. You licked your lips, leaning towards Sam.

"What's this about?" You asked quietly, gaze flickering to Tony who sat in a corner.

"If I had to guess.. Probably about what happened in Lagos." Sam replied, glancing at Steve and Natasha. You frowned, looking at the Secretary of State.

"The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt." He began, gaze sweeping over everyone in the room.

"You have.. Fought for us, protected us, risked your lives but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the term 'vigilantes.'"

"And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Natasha asked, studying the older man. You looked back at Tony Stark, making brief eye contact with him. It felt like an intervention. Or a teacher scolding their class after they made the sub cry.

"How about dangerous?" You frowned, looking forward when you heard his words.

"What would you call a group of US based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, quite frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?" Mr. Secretary asked, looking over the small group in disappointed. You'd hate to admit it, but he had a point. The citizens of Sokovia were left to find new homes and the people of Lagos had to fix what had been destroyed. Mr. Secretary stepped to the side, looking at the screen. Videos began playing of all the times the Avengers caused destruction and most likely death. Wanda looked away, growing uncomfortable as the aftermath of the Lagos incident played. She already felt guilty enough about it. She had told you many times how she wished it would've gone differently. Steve noticed, frown deepening.

"That's enough." He called, watching the screen turn off.

"For the last few years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's a decision the governments of the world can no longer tolerate." Mr. Secretary told them, hands clasped behind his back. You frowned, brows furrowing slightly.

"But we have a solution." Mr. Secretary took a book from his bodyguard, stepping forward and handing it to Wanda. Wanda picked it up, looking it over.

"The Sokovia Accords.. Approved by a hundred and seventeen countries." Wanda slid the book over to Rhodes so he could take a proper look at it. You looked at Mr. Secretary as he walked around the table.

"It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of The United Nations Panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."

"That's such bullshit." You whispered. Mr. Secretary turned towards you, cocking a brow. Natasha let an amused smile slip while Sam covered up his snicker with a cough.

"The Avengers were created to make the world a safer place." Steve spoke up before he could address you.

"This is the middle ground." Mr. Secretary said, walking to the front again and facing everyone.

"The Accords will be ratified in a couple days." Steve turned towards Tony, earning a silent response.

"I'll leave you to discuss."

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Leave it to Natasha to say what was on everyones' minds. Mr. Secretary paused as he approached the door.

"Then you retire." He answered plainly. You watched him leave, picking up the cup of water infront of You You went to take a sip but it turned to ice before you could drink from it. With a small huff, you placed it down.

"That's new." Natasha called with a small smile, hoping to ease the tension in the room. You stood up, leaving the meeting room and heading to the lounge. The others followed, taking more comfortable seats on the couch. A debate quickly started between Rhodes and Sam while Steve looked through the Accords.

"Have you two thought about starting a debate club?" You asked, tapping the frozen water a few times before it finally turned back to normal water. Natasha let out a small snort, chuckling as she shook her head.

"I have an equation." Vision announced, stopping Rhodes and Sam. They turned towards him.

"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of enhanced people has grown and during the same period, the number of world ending events has risen."

"So, it's Starks' fault?" You asked, leaning back in your seat with a tilted head. Tony scoffed from his spot on the couch, rolling his eyes.

"I'm saying, there might be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge, challenge insights conflict, and conflict... Breeds catastrophe. Oversight is not an idea that should be dismissed."

"I wish I understood half of what you said." You muttered softly, running your finger the leaf of a plant beside the seat. Natasha turned towards Tony, watching him.

"You're being uncharacteristic non-hyper verbal." Natasha pointed out softly as he looked at her with a deep sigh. Steve looked up from the Accords.

"It's cause he already made up his mind." Steve said, earning a small eye roll. Tony slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Actually, I'm nursing a headache." He muttered as he stood up, walking towards the coffee machine. He poured himself some coffee and grabbed a bottle of pills before sighing and placing down a device. He showed an image of a young man.

"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. A great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor level gig for the fall. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the people in Sokovia." Tony said, obviously agitated as he looked over everyone. You wondered why he now cared for the people who were injured during attacks.

"He wanted to make a difference although we'll never know cause we dropped a building on him while kicking ass." Everyone stayed silent as he spoke. You watched him take a pill, drinking it with the coffee.

"There's no decision making here. We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Tony, when someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." Steve closed the Accords, looking at Tony with a frown.

"Who says we're giving up?"

"We are by not taking responsibilities for our actions. This document shifts the blame." Steve voiced his opinion, shrugging lightly.

"Steve, that is dangerously arrogant." Rhodes spoke up, shaking his head. Steve turned towards him.

"This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the world security counsel, it's not S.H.I.E.L.D, it's not HYDRA-"

"But it's run by people with agendas and agendas change." Steve pointed out as you rubbed your forehead, sighing softly. Both sides had good points but you sided with Steve. The team was obviously divided.

"What do you think, (Y/N)?" Vision asked, looking at you curiously. You licked your lips, gaze focusing on Tony.

"I'm curious as to why you care so much about this Charles guy. You've had, what was it? Eight years as Iron Man to care about the people who get hurt? Why now? Cause you realized one of those people could become the new you? Would you care this much about Charles if he had been a typical guy? No degree, no plans for the future, just a normal guy working a normal 9 to 5 job and just trying to make it through the week. I agree with Steve. What if something happens and they don't send us to help because it doesn't go with their agenda? People get hurt cause you've never set up a system to help after these things happen. You're a fucking billionaire, Tony. Make a company that's designed to help people get back on their feet after the Avengers bulldoze through cities." You said, legs crossing as you looked over everyone else. Steve gave a small nod, glad you were seeing his side. He checked his phone, abruptly standing and announcing he had to leave. You and the others watched him go in confusion.

"To answer your questions, I do care about normal people." Tony said, arms crossing. You let out a soft groan, leaning back in the couch.

"I'm sorry, what are you? Twelve? Didn't you turn twenty this year?" Tony cocked a brow, watching as you rolled your eyes and stood.

"Yeah, I did turn twenty. Surprised you knew considering you've never particularly liked me."

"Well, first impressions are everything and you did try impaling me with a branch."

"Maybe I should've."

"Alright, boys, let's calm down." Natasha called, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned and walked towards the steps, heading down to your room at the facility. You entered and plopped down on the bed, running a hand through your hair. You tapped your foot on the ground, fingers going to the root bracelets in an attempt to relax. Wanda opened the door, closing it behind her and sitting beside you.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, staring at you in concern. You weren't one to snap at others so quickly.

"There's so much going on. The Accords, my fucking powers, the sudden change in Nat and Tony, you possibly getting into trouble cause of the Lagos incident.. That could've been me." You breathed out. Wanda frowned, brows furrowing.

"No, it wouldn't have."

"I shot fire out of my hands and turned water to ice without meaning to. They're getting unpredictable." You looked at her, grip on the roots tightening. Wanda's gaze flickered to the window, making you turn. Part of the window was covered in a thin layer of ice.

"And that just proved my point."

"You're an incredible person, (N/N). Have faith in yourself. You'll gain control of them sooner or later. You have beautiful powers that could change and heal the world." Wanda pointed out gently, having you rest your head on her shoulder. She softly began to hum a lullaby. You didn't understand the words but her soft voice proved to be soothing.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why'd you call me again?" You asked, toying with the strings of your hoodie as you looked around the cafe. You had planned on taking a nap and watching a new show on Netflix but it seemed like Steve had other plans for you.

"Because I trust you and need your help." Steve replied, fixing his baseball cap as he tried avoiding eye contact with civilians.

"Really?" You asked softly. Steve nodded, offering a smile. He licked his lips, nodding to the tv. You turned, looking at the news. You really didn't have to considering what they were showing was right down the street.

"Your friend?" You looked back at Steve with a tilted head.

"We gotta find him before anyone else does." Steve said. You nodded, watching him. Steve had been desperately trying to find his friend, Bucky, since the attempt on Furys' life.

"I'll go in alone. We don't want to seem threatening or set him off by going in as a trio."

"(Y/N)? Being threatening? He can't even scare a baby!" Sam said in amusement, shooting you a playful grin.

"Right back at you, bird boy."

"I'm sorry, who here is named after the top bird of prey?" Sam asked, leaning forward slightly as Steve let out an amused sigh.

"Oh, I didn't know you were named after eagles." You responded, smiling in triumph when Sam huffed lightly.

"Come on, you two." Steve chuckled, leaving the cafe and heading down the sidewalk.

"I don't trust Stark." You told them, arms crossing. Sam glanced at you as Steve turned into an alleyway.

"Not surprised considering the little fight you two had."

"I think he had Vis keep an eye on me and Wanda. I snuck out while he was with Wanda in the kitchen." You told him, frowning.

"Firstly, I'm an adult-"

"That's questionable."

"-And secondly, he's not my dad." You took off the hoodie as Steve unlocked a car parked in the alleyway, giving Sam the duffle bag with his outfit. You looked at your phone when it buzzed, seeing texts from Clint.

Clint

Heard you had a fight with Stark

Clint

You're officially an Avenger now

You smiled softly, chuckling softly at the texts. You waited for the guys to finish changing before taking the earpiece from Steve. The apartment building had been nearby so you and Sam headed onto the roof while Steve entered.

"How well do you think this will go?" You asked Sam, looking for any sign of law enforcement.

"Wanna bet?"

"How much?" You looked at him, giving a small grin. Sam looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking it over.

"30 bucks. I bet this will go to shit and this dude will escape."

"I bet we'll get into serious shit but this dude will either come with us or get caught." You replied. Sam stuck out his hand, nodding. You shook it, chuckling softly. You turned your head, noticing movement.

"We've got company, Cap."

"They're approaching from the south." Sam added, attention focused on them. You heard Steve begin to talk to someone, watching the cars pull in and get ready. You turned your head, hearing the door to the roof open.

"Shit." You whispered, letting Sam pick you up and lift you into the air. You could hear the fight going on inside through the earpiece.

"Should we help?" You asked, glancing up at Sam.

"No clue." Sam replied, watching Bucky jump from the apartment onto the roof of another building. You noticed someone running at a high speed, jumping up onto the roof and knocking Bucky down.

"They have cat ears." You mumbled, pushing Sam's arms away.

"Deal with them." You motioned to the German police force on the roof, hoping down onto the roof. You raised your hand, a root shooting out and grabbing the strangers arm, refraining them from clawing at Bucky. Bucky turned his head, making eye contact with you. Your eyes widened when the man grabbed the root, using what felt like super strength to toss you off the roof. You quickly used a root to grab onto the side, breathing out a sigh of relief. Sam took care of a helicopter before flying by to grab you.

"Thanks." You breathed out, holding onto him as he followed the chase. Steve, Bucky, and the cat guy went into one of the tunnels. Sam flew in once there was an opening, trying to help Steve with the cat guy. You huffed when the cat guy grabbed Sam's ankle, pointing your hand at him and shooting a strong gust of air. The cat guy lost his grip monetarily but quickly grabbed on again. Bucky threw up an explosive so Sam quickly stopped, flinging the guy off him. Sam landed, walking past the rubble. You sighed, raising your hands as you and Sam were quickly surrounded by cops.

"Mom's gonna kill me." You whispered.

"That's what you're concerned about?" Sam asked, glancing at you in disbelief.

"We're getting arrested, (Y/N)!"