#bugs next fever dream

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Timothy dying in a glue trap.

He's okay, probably, maybe.

[thecapricunt1616]

Vervain - c.b. one-shot

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 

♡ O/S Inspo: Vervain - Use in Protection, purification, youth, peace, healing, sleep and baths. For all-purpose protection of homes and people (especially children).

♡ Summary: You & Carmy had your first baby 8 weeks ago... seeing him being so attentive and such a good father is for some reason inducing a baby fever - again.

♡ W/C: 4.6K+

♡ Posted Date: 05/09/2024

♡ A/N: OOOO hey yallllll! Capri is back - She was written by the writing bug this morning!!! I have other requests i'm still working on but for now - I am swallowing my stage fright, I hope this suffices for what you were wanting future Mrs.Berzatto eek!!! Thank you so much for requesting from me! You can see the request this one-shot is based on right ♡ here ♡ if you aren't following @carmenberzattosgf already I'm quite unsure how you found ME before you found HER go give her a freaking follow!!!I am seriously such a fangirl for her work and was over the moon when she requested me!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Pregnancy stuff, breeding kinks, talking about parenting stuff, Dad!Carmy, unedited (we die like men), NO USE OF Y/N!, AFAB/Feminine reader w/ long hair implied

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

It had been exactly 8 weeks today from when you’d given birth to your baby girl, Athena. Of course, you weren’t thinking about this yet - because you were peacefully sleeping away in bed, at 8:45 am. Each day you woke though, you were surprised your life wasn’t a dream. 

Being married to your ultimate dream man, with the most beautiful little baby and not a rush in the world. Carmy had known when you got pregnant he’d be taking some time off after you gave birth to care for you, especially since you’d been trying for a baby so he was more prepared to have everything set up. He made your life almost impossibly easy. 

Impossibly meaning it was nearly…isolating how simple your problems were compared to other moms. Since Carmy was like - the fucking golden standard of dad. You weren’t sure where he learned all this shit- especially since his father was never around and you knew for a fact didn’t treat his mother like this. You honestly felt bad complaining about anything to other moms - because in comparison when you did they were needing to do way more then you, and alone - because their husbands simply didn't care, or weren't interested in learning.

He had completely taken over the nighttime feedings, every 2 hours an alarm buzzing him awake on his watch. He would go ease little Athena awake, come back to the bedroom, gently wake you, set a boppy in your lap, help you undo your maternity bra and get her latched, and rub your back through the cramping that breastfeeding brought, whispering sweet encouragements and kissing your temple. 

After she was done eating, he would help you get situated again, bottle up the letdown milk and put it in the mini fridge he’d gotten for your bedroom for this specific purpose before bringing your daughter back to her nursery and burping her, before changing her and putting her back down - just do do it all again an hour and 15 minutes later. 

He took over the cleaning completely - your house was spotless nearly at all times, and of course you were very well fed. He would combat the exhaustion fatherhood brought by passing out next to you in bed after he brought you breakfast on a cute little tray and Athena had her morning feeding before being put down for a nap, baby monitor on his chest so he could jump up the second she fussed. 

“G’morning mama” was what woke you this morning, that and gentle kisses on your forehead. You heard quiet little coos and immediately your eyes were open on instinct, to see little Athena nuzzled up in Carmys arm like a little football and a tray of amazing smelling breakfast in your face. 

“I want my baby” you open your arms and he gently placed her on your chest to which she grunts happily and squirms her little legs, doing everything she can to lift up her head to see you. 

“She’s such a good girl mama she helped me make breakfast f’you this mornin’ she’s the best little sous ever” he cooed, looking at her beaming with happiness as he rubs her little back. 

This was what got you. You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, if it was the fact your husband looked like a fucking Greek god incarnate, or if it was just - you don’t know…human fucking nature?! Literally? But the insane level of need that you had for him - you wanted another one. 

Athena wasn’t even rolling on her side yet and you were already craving being pregnant. Well- Carmy did love your body while you were pregnant. You loved your body while pregnant, you felt sexier and more feminine and pretty and overall like a goddess. Mostly thanks to Carmy and his constant praises, and the way you two were fucking like rabbits during your pregnancy and you missed that. 

“What’s f’breakfast daddy?” You pucker your lips to which he obliges and gives you a sweet peck 

“So this mornin, Miss Athena she decided on an omelette so we have a French omelette with dill-“ he explained and you inturrupt with a giggle 

“Did you? You came up with that all on your own Athena? Such a smart girl!” You joked, kissing the top of her soft head to which she just huffed a breath to your skin and made little baby grunting noises as she wiggled her legs 

“She did! Then we also have a light cucumber salad f’you with fresh herbs ‘f’course, sourdough toast, and a banana smoothie. All made with love” he kissed the top of your head. 

Each morning after her first feeding, he would take Athena into the kitchen with him, baby wear her because he is just that perfect, and explain every little detail to her softly while he would cook breakfast, giving her head gentle kisses along the way and rubbing her back soothingly. He did the same while cooking lunch, and dinner. The first time you saw this you burst into tears at the sweetness and the beauty of creating your own family.

“Wow sweetheart thank you! This looks sooo yummy” you kissed the now drowsy baby’s nose and she smiled softly, causing you to smile and Carmy to gasp happily. 

“Look at that little smile ‘eh? Such a pretty girl” he rubbed her back gently and you carefully picked her up and put her on his chest so you could eat, to which he happily laid back, palm flat over her little back patting her soothingly. 

“Can’t wait to try this bear looks so yummy” you pull the tray in your lap and cut off a bite, trying it and nodding “course a ten.” You look at him and he huffs a laugh as to not wake the baby who was clearly ready for another nap

“Y’always say ten” he said softly and pressed his lips to Athena’s head gently, breathing in her baby smell. “Do you know what day it is?” He mumbles and looks over at you. 

“I’ve been waiting for this day for….eight weeks” you smirk and he shook his head amusedly with a smile. 

“Babe- you’ve been” he covers her tiny ears “you’ve been sucking me dry I didn’t even have a break. This is gettin’ exhausting” he joked and you laugh quietly as to not disturb the baby. 

“Not my fault you’re like- don’t get me started I need to eat and shower and shave and - today is a big day.” You said and sipped your smoothie, humming happily “this is really good seriously bear” you told him and he rubbed your hand gently before pressing it to his lips 

“Alright well that means I better get a move on then and there’s laundry t’do so I better go put ‘er down, you eat. Watch y’show ’er whatever and you can do your shower mm?” He asked and you nodded happily. 

Of course he’d oblige your every wish. He had always been this way, but became even more lenient after you’d gotten pregnant. You made sure many times through tearful guilt that he wasn’t making himself resent you, and he assured you that everything he does he wants to do and only does because of the fact that he wants to, he also assured you he could never resent you or even dislike you, or anything less then be fully in love with you. 

You had a luxurious shower, slathered on your favorite lotion and were even able to blow out your hair, putting on your favorite pair of lacy panties. You were upset you had to settle for a nursing bra, but knew Carmy wasn’t going to mind. You put on one of your comfortable slips, even put in some earrings after doing your skincare. By the time you were done Carmy was just getting Athena up from her nap and changing her diaper before bringing her in 

“Say hi mama” he takes her little hand waving it at you “did you have a nice shower?” He pecked your lips sweetly and helped you get settled with her on the bed so she could eat. 

“Very nice - thank you for taking care of everything sweetheart” you sit back, sighing softly and resting your head back “I love you” you look over at him with a sweet smile. 

“I love you beautiful, how y’feelin any cramps?” He asked and held your hand, lacing your fingers together sweetly and kissing your fingers. 

“No- well…not as bad anymore If anything when she’s not as hungry my boobs start to hurt” you explained and he nods 

“Well y’look beautiful baby, I love these on you” he gently touches your earring bringing a smile to your lips, he always notices the smallest things about you. Like he has you memorized. 

“Thank you Bear” you said softly as the baby makes little gulping suckling noises. Carmy chuckled, rubbing her belly lightly. 

“That’s the good stuff huh little? Mama’s got the golden tap” he jokes and you laughed, holding her securely 

“Stop! Stop making me laugh she’s comfy latched like this you’ll piss her off” you nudge him with your foot gently 

“It’s true! You were the one that forced me to try it. It’s sweet, I see why she likes it.” He said and you scrunch your nose, biting back giggles 

“Yes because it encourages her to eat it.” You gently brush that spot over her nose bridge and forehead, causing her eyes to flutter shut “that’s why when she’s 6 months we can’t let her have fruit for a while cause she’ll think everything’s sweet like my milk” you explained 

“Mmm…read that too in one of the books you got- it’s a good call” he thumbs over her fingers gently that were wrapped around his forefinger tightly like a baby monkey. 

“You should sleep” you told him softly. “You can have snuggles with her I’ll watch you” 

He smiled and leaned in, kissing you lovingly “thank you sweets. I can burp her s’okay. I already got the towel” he said and grabbed it from his nightstand. 

She only took a few more minutes before she slowly stopped suckling and instead went to fall right asleep but before she could you took her off and handed her over to Carmy for burping to which she fussed before she realized her dad was taking her then she relaxed again. 

After Carmy fell asleep, you went to put her down for a nap as well and put away the laundry Carmy had washed. It was about 3 hours before Athena began to fuss again and you went to get her, sitting in her rocking chair after you’d changed her and reading her a book as she ate. 

Carmy came in just as you were finishing up The Very Hungry Caterpillar “that’s a good one huh princess?” He said softly, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckle to which she fluttered her eyes open and smiled slightly before closing them again. 

“Mmhmm, that one always puts her to sleep, she stopped eating 3 pages ago but I like to let her have a little time” you said and gently pulled her off to which of course she fussed. Carmy took her, hushing her sweetly and putting her on his shoulder. 

“Y’mommy spoils you little girl” he told her, gently bouncing her as he burped her, putting a cloth on his shoulder and kissing her head. You smile slightly as you fixed your bra and nightgown 

“I’d say we both spoil her. The doctor says she’s the happiest baby she’s met” you fixed her little sock that she’d managed to wriggle down to her toes before kissing her foot 

“And the smartest and the prettiest and the most perfect “ he told her sweetly patting her back as she let out a big burp “good girl” he said and you giggled 

“That was a good one” you told her and kiss her head gently, seeing him like this with her, especially mixed with a sleep thick voice, no shirt, and messy curls - not to mention the stubble from not bothering to shave as often. He looked…delicious 

“Mmm- such a sexy daddy too” you mused, kissing his neck gently and rubbing your palm over his abs that had gone a bit softer due to spending way less time in the gym, but you loved it. 

“Yeah? Even with throw up on my shoulder mm?” He joked, and usually that would be gross - but fuck. The way he stepped up as a father constantly - everything he did was with the two of you in mind and you never even had to ask. He’d quit smoking for god sakes without you saying a word once he’d found out you were pregnant. 

“Especially. You’re so fucking amazing Carmy. Let me go to the bedroom so you can put her down but we need to talk” you told him and kissed his lips lovingly before heading back to the bedroom so he could work his magic getting her to sleep. 

It only took him 20 minutes before she was out and he came to the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Needa talk mm? Got a feelin’ we won’t be doin much talkin’ “ he teased, throwing her spit up towel in the hamper easily and coming to lay down with you. As soon as his head hit the pillow you were straddling his lap, your hands on either of his shoulders like a hungry lioness in heat. 

“I want you to fuck another baby in me.” You said and kissed him deeply, grinding against him and running your hands over his chest and abdomen, tugging at the tie of his sweatpants. He moaned in surprise and grabbed your bum, squeezing and spanking you lightly before pulling away after a few more moments of you essentially eating eachother alive to breathe. 

“Holy fucking shit” he said, chest rising and falling quickly “what got into you- im not complaining but-“

“Get me pregnant. I love it- I love it Carmy. God I feel so fucking hot. And seeing you with our daughter being all attentive and good to her? Holy fuck baby. Mm when people look at me - when they look at us I love it. I love knowing that people know you knocked me up.” You said, kissing his neck and sucking a hickey into the stubbly skin there. He moaned softly, palming your ass and squeezing your upper thighs 

“No baby not yet - not yet mm? Y’need time to heal…we can pretend mm?” He counters and gently brushed your hair back. You whine and pout, pulling back and looking at him 

“No. I want it now get me pregnant now.” You beg and hold his hands “pleeease I’m all healed remember? It’s 8 weeks.” You said and kissed over his tattoos, hoping you were distracting enough to get him to agree.  

“Mm yup you can have me inside you again, but doctor said having another baby so fast would cause them to have low birth weight. We don’t want that for our babe no? Also y’breastfeeding babe. The chances of you getting pregnant are super low” he said and you huff, sitting up frustratedly 

“You really know how to turn a girl off, you know that right? Can’t you pretend to satisfy your wife? Don’t you think I know?! Do you think I’m stupid?” You snip and he raised his brows 

“Y’gettin sassy w’me?” He questioned lowly and squeezed your hips “fix the attitude” he ordered and you bit back a smile. 

“No.” You crossed your arms “I don’t have one” you snip “you’re being mean t’me. Y’being mean to your wife” you teased, shoving his shoulder into the pillow playfully. 

“Ohh” he chuckled a bit “did you just push me?” He mused, grabbing your wrist firmly but not enough to hurt, just enough to show you he was willing to play. 

“What would you do about it if I said yes?” You leaned in so close your noses were touching. 

“You’d be in trouble” he smirked, leaning in and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking and nibbling it gently the way drove you wild. You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The feeling went straight to your core, warmth flooding your abdomen and your clit twitching with excitement. 

“Please” you said softly, well as much as you could mumble with one lip the other still being assaulted by Carm who was very much enjoying the way you were squirming in his lap to get any kind of friction you could. 

He finally releases you “please what angel?” He spanks you lightly “what d’y’need mm?” He lifted your nightgown over your ass and squeezed the flesh, reaching under you and cupping your heat. He hummed at the feeling of dampness already soaking the lace, collecting as much as he could on his fingers. 

“I need you t’fill me up again. Fuckin breed me make me a mommy again mm?” You begged, grinding against his hand - not even caring about the whorish filthy moans falling from your lips. You’d been fantasizing about this for weeks now, the relief of his hand- his wonderful calloused, thick, muscular hand, felt like it was enough to send you into a full orgasm just from the pressure his fingers were giving. 

“Holy fuck y’soaked babe- my god” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and gently rubbing circles into your swollen throbbing clit that was already twitching. Your hips buck and you bit down on your hand to hold in a cry as to not wake the baby. The next 3 or so minutes you couldn’t even remember what you said as he rubbed firm quick circles over your clit and after not having been touched for nearly 3 months - you were cumming on his hand mumbling his name, and profanities that would likely be considered sacrilegious while whimpering and squirming, thighs shivering - the whole 9. 

“Wow” he muttered, and if your orgasm wasn’t so intense you would probably have laughed at how amazed he sounded. “Y’good?” He rubs your stomach gently and you nod quickly, trying to even your breathing. 

“Fuck-“ you said once you came down “I literally blacked out for a second I think-“ you laughed and he followed suit, carefully laying you down after tucking 2 pillows under your hips to keep you elevated and tugging your panties off. 

“Shit babe y’get all soft on me?” He teased, carefully wrapping your thighs around his waist and pushing down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his cock free. You loved this. It all felt so normal, you were worried it would be awkward getting in bed again, but you two were picking up right where you left off. 

“I think you’re underestimating how sensitive hormones make you” you said as he kissed over your stomach and hips, licking a stripe up your heat causing you to gasp and grip the sheets tightly , your core clenching around nothing. Each touch felt like the power of a lightning strike, it was so much better than before. It had to be the hormones, but shit - now that you knew how good this felt you were worried you could never get enough of him. 

“I guess I was. Also y’super sweet now by the way - sweeter then before I should say” he spread you wider with his fingers to lap up more of your arousal and you look down at him, moaning at the sight. 

“God I fuckin missed you between my thighs - you’re so pretty” you smile, watching as he strokes himself as he continues to pleasure you first per usual. “Can you- try inside?” You asked gently and he looked up at you, resting his cheek on your thigh. 

“You’re ready for that?” He asked softly, his lips and chin glistening with slick. 

“Yeah- uh…try one? Maybe just one at first” you said sheepishly and he nodded, licking his lips 

“Course sweetheart, tell me if s’too much yeah?” He assured and rubbed over you gently before easing a finger over your entrance. 

The feeling was…well. 

It was similar to the uncomfort of your first time, which - if that was the case then it would just take a few times to feel good again. “How’s it feel?” He gently sucks your clit as he eases to the second knuckle, curling gently 

“Mm- okay? Not like it used to. But kinda like it used to…maybe it’ll feel better the more we do it” you assure and he nods a bit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud in the way that always got you to open up to him and you gasped lightly, back arching and core going lax. He slipped the final knuckle in and placed a kiss to your mound before slowly pumping as to not overstimulate you. 

“Yeah- mmm yeah” you breathe as it started to feel more familiar, the muscles loosening once again and relaxing. “Another- you can try another.” You told him and gently lace your fingers in his hair. He carefully eased in his forefinger, curling them against your g-spot and your thigh twitches, you nearly sobbed at the feeling that shot through your body at the contact. 

“Oh- okay found it-” he chuckled a bit “sorry did it hurt?” He asked and you shook your head quickly 

“Again” you said softly, trying to remain all of your control because you knew as soon as you lost it finding it would be nearly impossible and you two had a sleeping tiny human 1 room over. 

“Y’feel a lot tighter” he said, pumping his fingers slower, curling them against that fantastic spongey spot each time and you felt that coil in your belly tightening rapidly and it was going to snap now, any moment. “Y’like gushing right now” he chuckled, but it fell on deaf ears because your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. 

You couldn’t form a thought even if you tried, the mixture of his tongue sloppily drooling all over your clit as he padded over it, and the jolt of pleasure each curl of his fingers - it was a place long forgotten since your baby had been born since your priorities had both been changed and refocused for the time being. You weren’t able to warn him, you couldn’t do anything other then mutter his name as your orgasm washed over you so hard he had to hold your legs open so you didn’t crush him by mistake. 

“Fuck me- fuck me baby please Jesus- fuck me” you found yourself begging as you fluttered your eyes open and he was looking up at you in amazement like an owl, mouth slightly agape. 

“Holy shit” he muttered “you’ve never cum like that- what the fuck- I thought I almost killed you” he kissed your thigh and you laugh, a real laugh, chest rising and falling quickly as the aftershock of your orgasm reels back mixed with your giggles. 

“Please. Please” you cup his cheeks “cum inside me” you beg. He trailed kisses up your body, meeting your lips and pulling you into a hot, messy kiss. Mixed with clashing teeth and mixing of spit and sucking of tongues, before lining himself up and carefully pushing his tip in. You whimpered into his mouth and he pulled his lips away from yours, a small string of saliva connecting you both 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly and you shook your head

“Feels so good bear. Keep goin’ fuck I f’got how full I can feel” you pulled your lips back to his and felt him smile into your lips, holding your hand and lacing your fingers as his other hand worked on rubbing circles into your clit. He kept you quiet by making out with you as he thrusted in fully, staying still for a moment so you could adjust to the sensation once more. 

He grunts, feeling your walls flutter around him and you giggle in response, causing him to moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him “shit don’t do that I’ll fuckin cum”

“Then move dummy!” You push your heels into his ass and he chuckled, thrusting slowly in and out, nearly to the tip, before thrusting all the way back in to the hilt- his balls touching the curve of your ass 

“ are y’fuckin kickin me like a horse?” He teased as your back arched off the bed, a whiny moan tearing from your throat and he covers your mouth quickly, “here y’are beggin me t’fuck a second one int’you- y’haven’t even learned how t’be quiet for the first. The baby is sleeping.” He grumbled, and the way he was getting rough with you to protect your baby was enough to throw you into your third orgasm, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation of your clit, whining and squirming beneath his grasp. 

“Y’gonna be quiet? Er do I have to keep you muzzled ‘mm?” He teased, removing his hand from your mouth 

“Promise- I promise- please please please Carmy - give me another one I promise I’ll be so quiet” you said softly, your voice pleading and begging. He moaned, thrusting a bit harder 

“Can y’take it? Mm? Are y’sure Y’can take me again princess? Last time I knocked you up it took quite a few months a’you face down, ass up, full a’my cum. Nights at a time. Y’don’t remember how you’d whine about how sore you’d get while you were ovulating? Mmm? Fuck you so full y’get sore- fuckin y’four er five times a’day?” he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him with mushed cheeks. 

You whine pathetically, mumbling little ‘yes’ ‘mmhmm’ and ‘please’  you manage to get out an “I miss that so much Carmy” you whimper as he cages you in with his arms, his chain dangling in your face and brushing against your chin as his thrusts get sloppier. 

“Yeah? You miss bein full a’my cum? Y’miss wakin’ up in the mornin’ drippin’ w’me honey?” He mutters into your neck, feeling droplets of your sweat mixing together as your bodies rubbed with his incredibly deep thrusts, nearly laying over you. But Carmy was the most comfortable blanket you could ever ask for. 

“So much- so so much baby. Y’know Athena would be such a good sister- she needs a little friend mm? Y’gonna give your girl what she wants?” You scratch down his back as he pounds right into your g-spot, “oh I’m gonna cum” you whined, back arching and chest pressing flush to his. 

“Fuck - fuck- yes. Yes baby. Fuck m’gonna fuck you full I promise- fuck I’ll give you whatever you want baby I fuckin love you I love you” he moans into your neck, whimpering softly as he shoots hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking you through your fourth orgasm of the day, rubbing over your belly gently “gonna fuckin stretch this belly out again mm?” He growled hotly in your ear and you giggle, slapping his back playfully. 

“You're so funny talking about wanting to wait” you said and he huffs a laugh into your neck. 

“Yeah yeah. Legs up- Thena’s gonna be hungry soon so Y’can only prop up there f’r like half an hour” he said and helped you put the pillows against the headboard with your hips on them so you were at an angle and rest your legs up on it to let gravity do its thing.  It wasn’t surprising to you, but he absolutely wasn’t opposed to another one so soon after a little convincing.

[mononijikayu]

ligaya — itadori yuuji.

“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!” Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?” Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?” Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, Love At First Sight, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Confessions, Humor, Getting Together, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Kissing, Hugging, Track and Field! Yuuji, Pole Vaulter! Reader;

WORDS: 5.3k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i got the idea for this after i kept seeing olympic couples and olympians and their partners just be the epitome of love in paris. itadori yuuji just felt perfect for something like this. and so does the song ligaya by eraserheads. anyway, i love you all!!! ill see you guys on together. that's about to get sad, but im not sure if it will have sad smut. we shall see~

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 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

IF HE SPOKE TO HIS CHILD SELF, HE WOULD NOT BELIEVE IT. Because, how can he explain it? Him? The Itadori Yuuji— head over heels in love. It felt like a fever dream that can only come from fantasies. How could he be in love at all?

How did this even happen? When he swore that he didn’t need that in his life? Over doing his track practice? More than his mother’s food? He thinks that his younger self would have ended up with a coma. Hell, maybe Todo or his brothers — even Uncle Sukuna would be in shock.

Itadori Yuuji never imagined himself as the kind of guy who’d fall head over heels in love. Sure, he was friendly, enthusiastic, and had a smile for just about everyone, but love? It seemed like an impossible notion.

Perhaps an even more ridiculous thing. A feeling that was not for him, not in that way most people dream of. That was for other people, is what he always said—until you transferred into his department. 

The moment Yuuji first laid eyes on you, it was like the world around him faded into the background, leaving only you and the pole vault. He had seen countless athletes, witnessed incredible feats of strength and agility, but nothing prepared him for the sight of you.

The way you moved, your body soaring through the air with effortless grace, made it seem like defying gravity was just second nature to you. To him, it was like watching poetry in motion—a dance between you and the sky.

Something inside him shifted as he watched you clear the bar with ease, your landing smooth and controlled, as if you had done it a thousand times before. In that moment, he felt an unfamiliar pull, a deep, unexplainable connection that made his heart race. You were different—strong, confident, and so completely at ease in your own skin.

It wasn’t just your athleticism that drew him in, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way you seemed to own every moment, how you faced challenges head-on, your eyes always focused on the next goal. There was a fire in you, a determination that Yuuji couldn’t help but admire.

He didn’t know why he felt so drawn to you, why his heart beat a little faster whenever you were near. All he knew was that something had changed, like a switch had been flipped inside him. It didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in deep—so deep that there was no going back.

It was as though he had never truly seen the sun before that moment, like he had been wandering through life in a shadowy half-light, only to look up at you, soaring above the earth, and finally see the full brilliance of day. You were the sun, radiating warmth and light, and for the first time, Yuuji felt truly alive.

So, Yuuji did what he did best—he jumped in with both feet, headfirst and heart open, determined to win you over. It was how he approached everything in life, with boundless energy and optimism, believing that if he just gave it his all, anything was possible. He didn’t hesitate to show you how much you meant to him, wearing his heart on his sleeve, unafraid to make grand gestures.

He showed up at your practices, cheering you on, even when you barely acknowledged him. He left notes in your locker, little reminders that he was thinking of you, that he was rooting for you, no matter what. He even stood outside your dorm window one night, singing a goofy love song, hoping to make you smile.

But you kept saying no.

Each time, you turned him down, politely but firmly. You appreciated his efforts, you said, but you were focused on your sport, on your goals. There wasn’t room for distractions, and you couldn’t afford to let anyone—no matter how sweet or determined—get in the way of what you were trying to achieve.

Yuuji understood, or at least he tried to. But it didn’t make it any easier. Every “no” felt like a small cut, stinging just a bit more than the last. But despite the rejection, Yuuji couldn’t bring himself to stop. There was something about you, something that kept pulling him back, making him want to try again, to prove that he could be the one to make you happy.

And it wasn’t the kind of no that meant “maybe later” or “try harder,” it was a clear, polite, and definitive no. You were kind about it, of course, always smiling and thanking him for the effort, but Yuuji could see through it. Because that’s who you were. You were sunshine itself.

And so each time, even if it became repetitive, you smiled at him and treated him kindly. Even though you weren’t interested, you were interested in being his friend and perhaps, he could live with that. But something in him, the most honest part of him knew that he couldn’t let go. 

Each time you turned him away, Yuuji felt the sting, but he also felt the same determination rising within him. He wasn’t discouraged; he was driven. He saw each rejection as a challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, much like the ones he faced on the track.

And just like in his races, he wasn’t going to back down until he crossed the finish line. To Yuuji, it wasn’t about winning you over for the sake of it—it was about showing you that someone could care that much, that deeply, and that no matter how many times he fell, he’d always get back up. Because to him, you were worth every effort, every bruise, and every tear.

Today here he was, sitting in the school’s café, his head on the table, groaning as Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki sat across from him, trying their best to look patient. They were supposed to be working on their on class presentation for Cardiorespiratory Fitness by now, but with Yuuji being an utter lovestruck mess — his two friends were sure that they wouldn’t be able to get any work done.

“I’ve tried everything, guys!” Yuuji moaned, his voice muffled against the table. “I sang songs from outside their dorm window! Serenaded them like they do in those old movies! And I even left notes on their locker every day for a week, with little snacks. But nothing! Absolutely nothing! They just keep saying no!”

Nobara snorted, taking a sip of her coffee. “Maybe because you’re coming on way too strong? That’s what I’d do if someone kept bugging me. And really, are they even into men?”

Megumi sighed, crossing his arms and nodding. “Nobara’s right, though. Are they even into men?”

Yuuji’s head shot up, eyes wide and desperate. “They are! They told me! But I don’t want to bug them! I just… I just want them to see how much I care! How much I—” He faltered, feeling the weight of his own words. “How much I love them.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow. “Love? Yuuji, that’s pretty heavy. Are you sure it’s love?”

Yuuji nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I think I really do. I just want to be part of their world, you know? Make them happy, love them. I’d even help with their thesis if that’s what it takes! And that says a lot, because we’re on different levels! They’re smarter!”

Nobara rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of sympathy in her expression. “You can’t make someone love you, Yuuji. Maybe you should back off a bit and just be their friend. They might appreciate that more.”

Yuuji sighed, his shoulders slumping as he thought about it. The idea of stepping back, of not doing everything he could to win you over, made his heart ache. He had poured so much of himself into trying to make you see how much he cared, but maybe Nobara was right.

“But what if they never see me as more than that?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What if I’m just that annoying guy who keeps bothering them?”

Nobara softened at his vulnerability. She wasn’t used to seeing Yuuji like this—so unsure, so worried. “Yuuji, you’re not annoying. Well, not more than usual.” she said, her tone gentler than before.

"Hey!"

“But listen, you’re sweet, and anyone can see how much you care. But sometimes, people need space. They need time to figure out their own feelings without any pressure. If you really care about them, you’ll give them that space.”

Yuuji nodded slowly, but the doubt lingered. He had always been the type to go all in, to give everything he had to the people he cared about. Holding back didn’t come naturally to him. “I just don’t want to lose them.” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

Megumi, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his tone measured and calm. “Yuuji, you won’t lose them by giving them space. In fact, it might be what they need to see you in a different light. But you have to be patient, and you have to respect their choice.”

Yuuji looked at Megumi, searching his friend’s eyes for reassurance. “But what if they never change their mind? What if they never see me the way I see them?”

Megumi leaned forward, his gaze steady and full of understanding. “Then you have to accept that.” he said firmly. “It’s hard, I know. But you can’t force someone to feel something they don’t. If they ever change their mind, they’ll let you know. But until then, don’t push too hard. It’ll only make things worse.”

Yuuji absorbed Megumi’s words, the weight of them settling heavily in his chest. He knew Megumi was right—it wasn’t fair to push you into something you weren’t ready for, or maybe something you didn’t want at all. But the thought of just being your friend, of stepping back, felt like giving up on something he wanted more than anything.

Nobara reached out, placing a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder. “Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but sometimes, being a good friend is more important than trying to be something more. If you really care about them, you’ll be there for them, no matter what. And who knows? Maybe that’s what they need to realize how special you are.”

Yuuji looked between his two friends, their words sinking in. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but deep down, he knew it was the right one. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll back off… but I won’t stop caring.”

Megumi nodded approvingly. “That’s all you can do, Yuuji. Just be yourself, and let them come to you if they’re ready.”

Nobara smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, no matter what happens.”

Yuuji managed a small smile, the weight in his chest easing just a little. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.” 

Nobara nodded approvingly, while Megumi gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. Yuuji might have been hopelessly in love, but at least he was starting to understand that sometimes, the best way to love someone was to let them come to you in their own time. And he’ll be patient. He knows how to do that. His brother Choso taught him how to be. 

As they continued to sit together, Yuuji couldn’t help but feel a mix of hope and uncertainty. He didn’t know what the future held, but he was grateful for friends who would support him through it all. For now, he’d focus on being the best friend he could be. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough. It had to be. He believes it to be.

Over the next few days, Yuuji did his best to dial things back. He still watched you from afar during practice, his heart skipping a beat every time you cleared the bar with that effortless grace. But instead of approaching you with grand gestures or serenades, he tried to be more subtle, more considerate. 

He’d offer a friendly wave when you caught his eye and cheer you on quietly during your pole vaulting sessions. Every now and then, he’d strike up casual conversations, asking how your day was going or chatting about track and field events. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time he saw you, he had to fight the urge to blurt out how he felt, to tell you that all he wanted was to be with you. 

One afternoon, you were sitting on a bench after practice, cooling down and scrolling through your phone when Yuuji approached you cautiously. He noticed that you seemed a little tired, maybe even a bit stressed.

“Hey.” he said, trying to keep his tone light and nonchalant. “How’s it going? You look like you could use a break.”

You glanced up at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Been working on my thesis, and it’s been kind of a headache.”

Yuuji’s eyes lit up. This was it—an opportunity to help you without being too pushy. “Really? What’s it about? Maybe I could help somehow?”

You hesitated for a moment, and Yuuji’s heart raced, hoping you wouldn’t shut him down again. But then you sighed and leaned back on the bench. “It’s about the biomechanics of pole vaulting, actually. I’m trying to analyze different techniques and how they affect performance, but the data’s all over the place.”

Yuuji nodded, trying to focus on what you were saying rather than the fact that you were actually talking to him about something important. “That sounds tough. But hey, I’m pretty good at organizing stuff—maybe I could help you sort through the data or something?”

To his surprise, you didn’t immediately say no. Instead, you looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing your options. “You really want to help?”

“Of course!” Yuuji said quickly, not wanting to sound too eager but failing miserably. “I mean, only if you want me to. I don’t want to, you know, be a bother.”

You chuckled softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. “Alright, Yuuji. I could use an extra pair of eyes on this. But just so you know, it’s going to be boring. Like, really boring.”

Yuuji grinned, feeling a surge of hope. “Boring’s fine with me. As long as I can help you out.”

Over the next few weeks, you and Yuuji spent more time together, working on your thesis. He was true to his word—organizing data, making notes, and offering encouragement whenever you hit a rough patch. He didn’t push his feelings, didn’t try to force anything. Instead, he focused on being there for you, just as Megumi and Nobara had suggested.

And as time went on, you started to see a different side of Yuuji. He wasn’t just the guy who sang outside your window or left notes in your locker. He was kind, patient, and genuinely interested in your work. He made you laugh, and he always seemed to know when you needed a break or a bit of encouragement.

One evening, after hours of working on your thesis, you were utterly exhausted. The words on the screen blurred together, your eyes heavy with sleep. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you.

Yuuji, who had been quietly organizing some of your research papers, noticed the slump in your shoulders and the tired sigh that escaped your lips. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Why don’t you take a break?”

You shook your head, trying to muster the energy to keep going. “I can’t. I still have so much to do, and the deadline is coming up fast.”

Yuuji crouched down beside you, his eyes filled with concern. “I know, but you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing like this. Just a short break, okay? I’ll make you some tea, and we can relax for a bit.”

Before you could protest, Yuuji was already in the kitchen, brewing a pot of your favorite tea. You watched him move with practiced ease, grateful for his presence. When he returned, he handed you a steaming mug and smiled. “Here, drink this. It’ll help you relax.”

You took the mug, feeling the warmth seep into your hands, and let out a tired sigh. “Thanks, Yuuji. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yuuji’s smile softened as he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know. I’m here to help. And right now, you need to rest.”

He gently guided you to the couch, where you reluctantly settled down, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. Yuuji sat beside you, his presence comforting and reassuring. As you sipped your tea, the tension in your body began to ease, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Yuuji noticed the way you were fighting to stay awake, and with a soft chuckle, he reached out and lightly ruffled your hair. “It’s okay if you want to close your eyes for a bit. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You looked at him, his warm eyes and gentle smile, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so overwhelmed anymore. The stress that had been weighing you down seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Maybe just for a little while, you know?” you mumbled, already feeling yourself drifting off.

Yuuji nodded, watching as your eyes slowly closed, your breathing evening out as sleep took over. He stayed by your side, keeping watch as you slept, ready to offer support the moment you needed it. And as he looked at you, peaceful and relaxed, he felt a deep sense of contentment. This was all he wanted—to be there for you, to make sure you were okay, to be part of your world in whatever way you would allow.

As the evening turned into night, Yuuji gently adjusted the blanket around you, making sure you were comfortable. He leaned back against the couch, feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing beside him, and smiled to himself. He didn’t need anything else. As long as he could be there for you, that was enough.

When you woke up the next morning, your eyes fluttered softly against the sunlight streaming in through the window. You felt warmth beside you, and as you turned your head, inches away was Itadori Yuuji, still fast asleep. He was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

For a moment, you just watched him, taking in the peaceful expression on his face. You’d never noticed before how calm and serene everything felt when he was around. It was as if all the chaos in your mind quieted just by being near him.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, almost one of relief. You were glad that it was him—that he was the one who stayed with you, who was always there. This sweet angel, who had gone out of his way to support you, to make sure you were okay.

“I might as well cook you some breakfast.” you whispered to yourself, smiling at the thought. You carefully stood up, making sure not to wake him. As you passed by him, you couldn’t resist letting your fingers brush lightly through his fuchsia hair. “You worked hard, Yuuji.” you murmured, your voice filled with affection.

You made your way to the kitchen, the lingering warmth of his presence still wrapping around you. As you started preparing breakfast, the sound of sizzling eggs and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small space. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft rustling from the couch, followed by a sleepy yawn.

Yuuji appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably tousled. When he saw you, a bashful smile spread across his face, and his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Good….morning.” he greeted you timidly, still half-asleep.

You turned to him, returning his smile. “Good morning, Yuuji. Did at least manage to sleep somewhat okay?”

He nodded, his gaze drifting to the breakfast you were preparing. “Yeah, I did. Thanks… for everything.”

You set down the spatula and walked over to him, your heart warming at his shy demeanor. “No, Yuuji, thank you…..” you said earnestly, your eyes shining. “Thank you for helping me with everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Yuuji’s blush deepened, and he quickly waved off your gratitude as he rubbed the back of his head. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad I could help.”

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “It’s not nothing, Yuuji. It’s a big deal to me. You’ve been here, doing all this because… because you’re a good person. And I know it’s also because you like me.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, you continued, your voice growing softer, more vulnerable. “I… I feel something for you too, Yuuji. I didn’t realize it before, but… I do. It’s just… I want to take things slow.”

You lowered your gaze, suddenly feeling shy, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what he would say, or how he would react, but you needed to be honest with him.

Yuuji stood there for a moment, processing your words. Then, a gentle smile spread across his face, his eyes softening with warmth. “I understand.” he said quietly. He reached out, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We can take it as slow as you need. I’m just happy to know you feel something for me too.”

You looked up at him, relief and happiness washing over you. His hand in yours was warm, comforting, and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice. “Thank you, Yuuji,” you whispered.

He shook his head, still smiling. “No, thank you. For letting me be part of your world.”

As you stood there, holding hands in the morning light, the aroma of breakfast filling the air, everything felt just right. There was no rush, no pressure—just the promise of something real, something that could grow into something beautiful, one step at a time.

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

YOU MADE IT THE OLYMPICS, THE TWO OF YOU. The day you found out you had qualified for the Olympics felt like a dream. All the hard work, the long hours of training, the sacrifices—it had all paid off. You were going to the Olympics. And as if the universe had planned it, Yuuji had qualified too, in track and field. It was a moment of pure joy, a culmination of everything you’d both worked so hard for. 

But what you hadn’t expected was the way your feelings for Yuuji would grow, almost as if they were catching up to the realization that he had been right there beside you all along.

You admired his determination, his relentless positivity, but you kept your distance, unsure if you could let someone in when you were so focused on your goals. Yet, Itadori Yuuji never wavered. He was at every pole vault tournament, even the ones miles away, often booking tickets last minute just to make sure he was there.

Even if he has to move around stuff for his own practice, even if he had other projects he had to do. It didn't matter. He wanted to be there. He wanted to go and see you and cheer you on. And every time, without fail, whether you won or lost, he would be in the front row, holding flowers and a letter, his bright smile shining through the crowd. 

At first, you didn’t know how to react. How does one manage to, when such devoted acts are offered to you so genuinely, in front of the world? How would one function, when there’s so much love given by one person that it could fill the world with pints of it. You were touched, truly. But of course I was also confused. You could feel your palms sweaty, when he tries to take your hand to hold. Or when he smiles, you feel like you have butterflies in your tummy. 

Was this really just a crush for him? What are crushes supposed to be like? You don’t think you remember. The last time you had a crush, it was on a 2D anime character. And that’s not a real experience. Or was it something more? You had to think it through. You care about him deeply, you do. But what do you actually feel for him? What does he actually mean to you? What is he to you?

Over time, though, as you saw how much he truly cared—not just about you as an athlete, but as a person—you started to see him differently. You noticed how he never pressured you, how he respected your space, but always made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what.

You began to anticipate his presence at your tournaments, looking forward to seeing his face in the crowd. His letters, filled with words of encouragement and affection, became something you treasured, often reading them late at night when you needed a boost.

And then, one day, as you stood on the podium after a particularly grueling tournament, looking out into the crowd, your eyes locked with Yuuji’s. He was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his smile as radiant as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of pride, love, and unwavering support—that made your heart skip a beat. 

In that moment, you realized that you had fallen for him. 

It wasn’t just his persistence or his kindness; it was the way he made you feel seen and valued, both on and off the field. He didn’t just love you for your achievements—he loved you for who you were, even when you were at your lowest. And that was something you couldn’t ignore anymore.

After the ceremony, you found Yuuji waiting for you, just like he always did. He handed you the flowers, a bashful smile on his face. “You were amazing out there, you know!” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “But you always are.”

You took the flowers, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the compliments. “Thanks, Yuuji.” you said softly, looking up at him. “For everything. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much it means to me that you’re always here.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised by the shift in your tone. “You don’t have to thank me, pretty.” he said quickly. “I just… I just want to be there for you, you know? I care about you. A lot.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt the words you’d been holding back finally rise to the surface. “I know. And I care about you too, Yuuji. More than I realized.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you were saying. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—one of pure, unfiltered joy. “Really?”

You smiled back, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Really. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Yuuji.”

His reaction was immediate—he pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet as he spun you around, laughing like he’d just won the lottery. When he finally set you down, he looked at you with such adoration that it made your heart flutter. 

“I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long!” he admitted, his voice shaking with emotion. “But it was worth it. Every single second. You will always be worth it. All of it.”

As you stood there, surrounded by the noise of the crowd and the smell of fresh flowers, you realized that your dream had come true in more ways than one. You had qualified for the Olympics, yes, but you had also found something even more precious—someone who loved you for who you were, someone who would stand by your side no matter what. And as you leaned in to kiss Yuuji, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

 *:゜☆ヽ(*’∀’*)/☆゜:。*。

epilogue 

The energy at the Olympic Stadium was electric, buzzing with anticipation as the final race approached. You sat in the stands, surrounded by a sea of spectators, but your focus was entirely on the track below. Itadori Yuuji stood at the starting line, his gaze steady, his body coiled like a spring ready to launch.

You knew how much this race meant to him—how much he’d poured into his training, how every ounce of his determination was about to be unleashed in those few, crucial seconds.

The announcer’s voice boomed across the stadium, signaling the start, and you held your breath, your heart pounding in sync with the cheers around you. Then, the gun fired, and Yuuji shot forward, a blur of speed and power. The crowd roared, but you were barely aware of it, your eyes locked on him, silently urging him on.

He moved like lightning, his form perfect, his strides long and powerful. You could see the intensity in his every movement, the sheer will driving him forward. As he rounded the final bend, you knew—he was going to do it. He was going to break the world record.

The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as Yuuji crossed the finish line, the clock stopping at a time that stunned everyone. A world record. Yuuji had just shattered it.

But even before the cheers had fully erupted, Yuuji’s eyes were scanning the stands, searching for you. The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the cameras, the officials, and the chaos around him, he sprinted toward you, leaping over the barrier with ease.

And then he was there, in front of you, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his brow, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you, his lips crashing against yours with a passion that took your breath away. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mixture of disbelief and pure joy. He laughed, a sound filled with triumph and love, and then he threw his arms up in the air, shouting, “I did it! I did it! I’ve got you and a medal! This is the best day of my life, oh my god!"

The crowd around you erupted into applause and cheers, but all you could focus on was Yuuji—his infectious energy, the way his hands were still holding onto you like he couldn’t believe you were real. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, tears of joy filling your eyes.

“You did it, Yuuji!” you whispered, your voice choking with emotion. “Babe, you broke the world record. I’m so proud of you.”

He grinned, pulling you close again, this time resting his forehead against yours. “None of this would’ve meant anything without you here. You’re the one I wanted to share this with. You’re my everything, pretty.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it clear just how much this moment—and you—meant to him. 

“I love you, Yuuji.” you said softly, cupping his face in your hands.

“I love you too.” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “And this… this is just the beginning. We’ve got so much more to look forward to—together.”

As you stood there, holding each other amidst the chaos and celebration of the Olympic Stadium, you knew that you had found something far greater than any medal or record.

You had found the person who would stand by your side, through every challenge and triumph, the one who had captured your heart with his unwavering love and dedication. And as Yuuji lifted you off the ground, spinning you around with pure, uncontainable joy, you realized that you had truly won in every way that mattered.

[sublimitymp3]

Yandere Helaena, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and all the guys with a darling that has a cold and is sick? I have one rn and I need comfort lol

I hope u feel better soon anon ‼️

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Helaena would make sure that even in your weakened state, your mood would never be gloomy. Sweet girl would lay in bed next to you and read to you about her favorite plants and bugs. She’d whisper to you as you fall asleep about all her dreams that she has at night, and what she thinks they mean, holding you close as you drift off.

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Alicent would administer any medicine you had to take to you herself, not allowing the maesters to do it. She’d watch you like a hawk, even when you were sleeping; just to make sure that should you need anything, it would be provided. Her motherly instincts would probably kick in as well, and she’d baby you like there was no tomorrow.

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Given her position in power, Rhaenyra would order that all the best maesters from Westeros and Essos should come at once to treat you. She’d hold your hand despite it being rather damp with sweat and would make it her personal mission to see you recover from this illness. Just like Alicent, her motherly instincts would probably kick in too. Any duties would be put off until further notice, right now her only job is to make sure you get better.

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Aegon could care less about anything else he had going on that day, for as soon as he saw that you were ill, he locked himself in your chambers with you. I headcanon Aegon as being naturally warm to the touch, so that would be very convenient if you were having chills. He is all on top of you, not giving a damn about the maester's warnings that he could get sick too from being within such close proximity to you. His health would be an afterthought, you are his top priority right now; not anyone else, or even himself.  

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Aemond is alarmed at the sight of you curled up in your shared bed. He had grown up with his father being very sick, so even though it is just a little cold you have, it stirs something in him. He’d do everything for you, bathe you, dress you, feed you, etc. He’d even go up to the maester’s in charge of caring for you and ask about what teas or other medicines he can make on his own to give you. During the whole time you are sick, you don’t even lift a finger for Aemond is hell-bent on doing things for you that normally you would do for yourself.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Jace just completely neglects himself. He’s so caught up in worrying and caring for you that he doesn’t make time to cancel meetings or plans. He’d hold you in his arms almost the entire time, and when he wasn’t, he was busy bothering his mother for advice on how to care for you. He’d let the maesters come in and do their thing but he’d be there to oversee that everything they were doing was up to his standards, and if they weren’t, no mercy would be shown. He’d kiss you all over your face whispering about how he would rather burn at the stake than see you suffer.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Daemon would probably be angry at himself for allowing you to get sick. He’d find out who spread this sickness to you; but would push dealing with that to another day, in favor of caring for you. If you were feeling rather hot, teetering on the verge of having a fever, he’d put you in a lukewarm bath to try and make it go down. He’d climb in behind you and hold you close to him. Daemon��s philosophy is actions speak louder than words, hence why when he does hold you like this, he tucks his face in the crook of your neck and says nothing, allowing you both to relax in the comfort of one another.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ser Criston doesn’t have access and power to request the best maester’s to come and care for you or put off his duties, but nonetheless, he would still pull whatever string he could, by any means, to get the time to care for you. He would bring you soups and medicines so you can get better, also making sure you are hydrated. Ser Criston is a determined man, and that will definitely show when you are sick.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Tag list of 1 💀:  @moonmaiden1996

[featherandferns]

hii ik this isn’t a prompt but i’ve been sick all night like throwing up and really bad stomach pains and i’ve been mostly alone so i was wondering if maybe you could write something ab jj being there for you and comforting you if not that’s totally fine🩷🩷🩷

aw no! hope you feel better soon! i totally get what you mean; i've had this awful cold for a few days and today is the first time i manged to sleep right through the night without fever dreams. hope this is okay <3

(content warnings: mentions of vomitting/sickness)

When you wake suddenly in the night, it feels as though God has chosen your head to play pin-ball in. Your brain rattles in your skull, swaying from side to side as if you’re at sea, and you blink awake with a wince. Something’s not right.

That’s when the stomach cramps kick in. Acid churning and burning like someone’s shaken a bottle of soda. It’s hot suddenly. Overwhelmingly so. You move to kick away the blankets but the force of it makes everything so much worse. The pain in your head and stomach. The dizziness and the—

You’re going to be sick.

Darting out of bed, you rush to the bathroom, barely making it to the porcelain of the toilet in time. The cringe-worthy echo of vomiting bounces off the walls. There wasn’t any time to even flick on the lights. It seems as if your body is hell-bent on churning up and out every single morsel of food and drink in your stomach, and then some. Vaguely you register someone scraping back your hair and rubbing your back.

“Sorry,” you mumble against the cool seat of the toilet, for some reason.

“Don’t apologise,” JJ shushes. “You good?”

There’s no time to even shake your head before the next bout of nausea hits. It’s answer enough – no, I’m not good – and JJ pets you through it. He flushes the toilet when you stop. Momentarily leaves you on the floor as he kneels to fill up a glass of water from the sink, handing it down to you.

“Take small sips, m’kay?”

You give a shaky nod. Your body is reacting like you’ve downed three cups of coffee in ten minutes. Shivering and jittery. Great - here comes the fever.

“Maybe it’s something I ate,” you think aloud in a slur.

“Dunno. There’s lots of bugs going round at the moment,” JJ says gently.

The ground seems nice despite it not having been cleaned in at least a year. You curl up on the cool tiles. JJ shrugs off the tee shirt he was wearing in bed, laying it over you as a make-shift blanket.

“I’m hot.”

“Damn straight you are.”

You don’t have the energy to laugh, but there’s a faint, quivering smile on your face. JJ strokes your shoulder as he sits beside you, watching you, eyes heavy with concern.

“You’re covered in goosebumps.”

“I feel like I’m boiling, though,” you tell him, shrugging off the tee-shirt.

JJ relents. He grabs a flannel from the sink side and dabs at your sweating forehead. It seems that even the risk that this might be viral isn’t of concern to him.

After about ten minutes of the two of you sat in the dark bathroom – you shaking on the floor and JJ stroking your shoulder, forearm and head – he manages to coax you back to the pull-out. Drenches the flannel with cold water and lays it across your head. Digs about in the cupboards for some (semi-out of date) anti-nausea pills. Helps you take sips of water from time to time. Once he’s done faffing around the house, doting on you, he climbs into bed and pulls you to lie against him. You gladly do so. There’s no complaints when your clammy skin hits his chest, or when your jitteriness keeps the two of you awake. JJ strokes your shoulders and back, pets your hair and softly scratches at your scalp. You’ve never seen him so mellow and calm. So focused on one thing: caring for you.

Somehow, you drift off. When you come to, JJ’s managed to sneak out of bed. He’s in the kitchen – you can make him out standing over the hob through your wave-like vision – and he’s stirring something in a pan.

“JayJ?”

He glances over at your raspy call.

“Hey,” he smiles. “Making you some soup. Drink more water for me, please.”

If you weren’t ill, you’d tell him to can it and to not tell you what to do. But it feels nice to be doted on sometimes, especially when you’re poorly. So, you oblige and sip at the water. It does help sooth your stinging throat, messed-up from the sickness. The stomach cramps are starting to ease and it makes you wonder if it was food-poisoning after all.

“I sent the others out whilst you get better, by the way,” JJ says. He’s pouring the soup into a bowl now.

“You kicked them out?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t use those words exactly, but yeah, pretty much,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes. There’s a faint, tired smile on your face.

JJ wanders over with the soup. He helps you sit up and takes perch next to you. You sip at the warm food, humming gratefully as your stomach sighs with gratitude for having something to focus on.

“What kinda soup is this?”

“Old Maybank family secret,” he says.

You quirk a brow at him, unconvinced.

“Campbell.”

That makes you smile. “Knew it.”

Once you’ve eaten as much as you can, you sigh and snuggle back into the covers. More painkillers and another wet flannel, and you fall asleep by JJ’s side. He doesn’t want to overheat you, so he just lets his feet tangle with yours. As you nap, he messes on his phone. No complaints that he’s missing a day of surfing, when the waves are meant to be the best today. No complaints that he’s sleep deprived from looking after you. No complaints that you’re a sweaty, slurring mess. Just you and him, and the unrestful rest that comes as you wait for the stomach bug to pass.

[hype-blue-fixation]

RadioRose Day 2 - First Meeting - "One Man's Trash is Another Woman's Treasure"

(A little silly and a cheesy title but I enjoyed it lol. I'll put in on AO3 at some point)

About 1,750 words

Many fear death, but death is often the gateway to a new life.

It had been a quiet night. Peacefully shoveling dirt as he prepared to bury the body. Guided only by the moonlight. When this was over, he planned to go home to his Mama’s cooking and live life a little happier and safer than before. Now that the monster at his feet was slain.

A split second gunshot was all he heard as his peaceful plans were blown away. Suddenly the sky turned bright red. Air rushed past. He realized he was falling. The fall broke with a breathtaking pain and metallic crash; a crash so loud that it set every nerve in his body on fire. More sensory overstimulation attacked him in the nose. Powerful stenches of rotting bodies and dead animals. The pain of it all settled in. Whole body aching, head throbbing, feeling like nothing more than a toddler’s toy after a long day of play. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. It hurt merely to be awake. Given that he was awake at all and this wasn’t some nightmarish fever dream.

After suffering for a few moments, he began twitching to life. Everything was dark except for one sliver of light over his body and the black bugs underneath him. He came to realize they were trash bags. How ironic that he was the one being disposed of. The thought made him smile, but then he realized that he was already smiling. His cheeks were hurting already…had he been smiling the entire time? When he felt over his face, he was shocked to feel pointed claws on his hands. Then he felt down his body. Not a stitch of clothing to be found, only fur, which the sliver of light revealed to be a blend of black and red. 

Just how much had changed? He moved his legs, finding that they bent in unusual places. And when he wiggled his toes, there were no toes to be found. Only two giant nails clicking together on his newfound hooves. A panicked scream welled up in his throat, but he couldn’t afford to scream. Instead it forced its way out in panting breaths. What was going on? Too much change. Too many sensations and questions. Sights, smells, feelings, textures, thoughts. He wanted it all to stop. Hoped that it was a dream. But it felt too real.

The sound of footsteps and muffled, distant conversations somehow reached his ears. How could he hear so much? What monsters lurked on the outside? He never thought a dumpster would be his place of refuge. But he got the feeling it couldn’t be as safe as he hoped when the footsteps got louder. He barely had time to respond before the sliver of light slid into a whole window beating down in his face. In the window was the silhouette of a woman. Most of her was shadowed, but he could see pale skin and snowy white hair tucked back in a bouffant.

“Ma’am, where am I?” He tried to sound civil, but his voice cracked with nerves.

The woman chuckled. “You’re in my trash, darling!” Her voice was full of energy and charm as she settled down a black bag. Almost making it like a stairway out of the dirty pit. “It’s not often I find fresh meat out here! Please! Come on out!”

He clumsily climbed toward the window, not at all used to his new body and the weird ways it moved. Barely had he come halfway out did he see her for what she was. A demon. Smile full of shining white teeth. Empty eye sockets. Claws and hands drenched with fresh blood. An instinct inside told him that he was next. Sending him scrambling backward, cushioned only by bags of rot. But she wasn’t phased. An ominous statue staring at his displays. Despite her appearances, her peaceful voice reached out to him with genuine care.

“Are you hungry?”

As if her words commanded him, his stomach let out a betraying growl. How could he possibly be hungry at a time like this? Surrounded by so much danger and squalor? Despite his internal panic, she continued to be sympathetic. At least putting on a convincing act of it.

“Take your time to adjust, sweetie. Manifesting in Hell ain’t easy work! I’ll set somethin’ out for you and you get it when you’re ready. Alrighty?”

She patted the dumpster and walked off. Her footsteps receding to blend in with the others. Something about her felt familiar. Comforting. Drew him toward her. It had to be some kind of demonic allure. Something to pull him in just so he could be devoured and become like the other rotting flesh being tossed into these bags.

A wary gaze peeked out of the dumpster. He was in an alley, one side seeming to go on into some abysmal darkness while the other side opened up into a town square. Upon climbing out and balancing himself on his wobbling hooves, he found his nose no longer bombarded by stench. Now his ears and eyes were the ones to take the hits. The town held an oddly familiar spirit about it. Alive with people tending daily business, rambunctious children, lively outdoor conversation, rolling shop carts with hollering salesmen, shoes clicking on pavement. Every little sound made way inside his head to the point that it sounded like one big symphony of static noise. Like a radio when a storm is blowing.

He grabbed for his ears in the usual place, only to find that they weren’t there. He felt around his head until he touched up two furry tufts on the top. Were these his ears now? Squishing them down seemed to help muffle the onslaught of noise. His eyes were still on the lookout, making observations of these strange people. Just like the woman he met, they all shared hollow eyes, a lack of a nose, a 1900’s style of fashion, and a bright sharp-toothed smile. An unsettling feeling creeped up inside him. Was he also one of them? 

First he felt around his eyes. Relief washed over him when he realized they weren’t empty sockets. He also had his nose that his mom often called cute and pretended to steal. But then his fingers went down to his mouth, where the painful smile still pasted his face, and inside it were giant fangs that fit together like puzzle pieces. Then the pressing issue of nakedness. The fur made him more decent than any animal, but he still felt unexplainably bare. Especially compared to the demons around him who could afford posh suits, classy dress shirts, and sweeping dresses. They might find him deplorable and hunt him down just like the man who sent him here in the first place.

Looking up around the corner, he could see a sign that read Rosie’s Emporium. In front was a small sitting area with umbrella tables. The woman who met him, the one he assumed to be Rosie, sat at one. The nearest table had a plate of food waiting and a gown draped over the seat. The newly manifested sinner glanced at the gifts, around the town, and back. They all seemed too caught up in their chatter and activities to pay him much mind. Like a shy animal, he slowly tiptoed out. Often stepping down wrong on his hoof, awkwardly stumbling along like a baby deer.

Rosie stifled her laughter as he stepped. Endeared by his effort to walk and take a seat in his new body, like a child learning new things. She smiled as he lifted the gown to look it over. Poke and sniff at it, as if a trap hid inside. He finally pulled it on. The fabric draped nearly to the ground. It felt silky against his body, and he couldn’t help but feel it between his claws. The fidgeting helped calm his nerves. Suddenly this world of new sights, smells, and sounds felt manageable. He buried his face deep in the fabric. Rubbed it over his cheeks and purred softly. It distracted him from noticing that the woman appeared right beside him.

“Do you like it, little fawn?” Her voice startled him into the floor with a deer-like bleat. A sound he didn’t even know he could make. “Aww! Did I scare you? I’m sorry!” her hand reached out and he backed away. Shaking uncontrollably. She pulled back and waited for him to recover in his own time. Being understanding. Gentle. When he stood up, she took a bite off his plate. “See? It’s not poisoned. You need to eat before it gets cold.”

He hesitantly sat on the opposite side of the table and pulled the food closer. One bite. Another. A strange sort of rabid hunger overtook him. The meal disappeared. He didn’t realize how much time passed or what a mess he’d made until he saw the juice and visceral on his hands and dripping down from his face. Deep shame and embarrassment shown red on his face. “Oh my– I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t be! It’s normal for a newborn cannibal to be munchy on their first day! You’re a growing boy!” Her lightheartedness took all the awkwardness out of the situation. He didn’t bother moving away when she reached across the table with a napkin, wiping the mess off his face. Soon his hands were in hers as she cleaned between his fingers. A level of care he’d only found in one other person. A person who was closest to him, but stuck on the other side of life. Someone he was supposed to go home to, share dinner, and kiss goodnight. Someone whose heart would break when her little boy didn’t come home tonight.

“Your name is Rosie, correct?” His voice sounded much calmer now. Anyone with the same spirit as his mother couldn’t be that evil.

“You’re very observant, young man! What can I call you?” she chimed and held his hands softly. Like a caregiver holding the hands of someone else’s child. Welcoming them under her wing.

“Alastor.”

More than saying his name, it felt like signing a contract. Selling his soul to someone who would treasure it and see him as one of her own. He was like a child again, with a lot to learn and plenty of space to grow. And just like his mother raised a gentleman, Rosie could raise an Overlord.

[purrincess-chat]

In Breakable Heaven CH1

It's @ladrienjune yall!

And I know what you're all thinking

But I finally wrote something! One chapter of a thing. For now, but more will be coming, I promise! As I mentioned previously, I am moving for the next couple weeks, but I will hopefully have some down time to write here and there. I also still need to plan the ending for this fic, but shhhhh that's future Cat's problem ;) Anywho, here's the beginning of a Ladrien secret-dating adventure. Enjoy~

This chapter covers days 6, 7, and 8 (social media, jealousy, and biggest fan respectively).

Read on AO3

Rating: G

Summary:

When Adrien wins a contest on the Ladyblog, he catches the attention of Ladybug herself and scores more than just an opportunity to hang out with her. Caught in a fever dream high, the two lovebirds try to navigate their budding relationship away from the public eye and find that keeping secrets is a lot harder than they anticipated. Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, what doesn't kill them makes them want each other more, and they'll do whatever it takes to stay in breakable heaven.

Chapter 1

“You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes”

“Alright, Bugheads, now onto the big announcement! With summer holidays coming up, I thought it would be a fun time to host a little contest, and ask the question: How well you know our resident superheroine? I’ve created a quiz that only the most die-hard fans will be able to pass because the stakes on this one are high. The person with the highest score will get to spend an afternoon with Ladybug! And don’t worry, this was approved by the head bug herself! Details for entry are listed below. Best of luck to all of you, and don’t forget to stay connected!”  Alya’s cheery lilt ended on Adrien’s computer screen, and he leaned back in his chair.

“A whole afternoon with Ladybug?” He swooned.

“What’s the big deal? You already spend every afternoon with her.” Plagg hovered over Adrien’s head with a wedge of cheese.

“Yeah, when we’re fighting bad guys,” Adrien said pointedly. “She never wants to spend time with me outside of work. This could be my chance to finally see a movie with her.”

“What’s the appeal of seeing a movie anyway? You just sit next to each other in silence for several hours. The only plus is the buttery popcorn with its salty, crunchy, oily goodness...” Plagg shoved the cheese into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “On second thought, why don’t you and I go see a movie? I’m much better company.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and clicked the leaderboard in the comments of Alya’s post. Someone had already gotten a decently high score on the quiz, only a few points away from perfect. A few scrolls down, the same username popped up again, and Adrien’s grip tightened on his mouse.

ladybugsfuturebf: Good luck beating my score! Only Ladybug herself could score higher. Can’t wait to spend one-on-one time with her on our date!

“Who does this guy think he is? A date? Ladybug’s future boyfriend? Before me?” Adrien scoffed.

“Need I remind you, the contest is to win a chance to hang out with her, not date her,” Plagg said.

What kind of flowers do you think she likes? Oh, wait! I already answered that on the quiz! She’s gonna be so impressed she’ll forget all about Chat Noir.

Adrien’s teeth ground together. There was no way such a boastful, arrogant person was in the lead. And forget about him? Please, he was Ladybug’s best friend! No one knew her better than him. He could ace that quiz in no time.

“What are you doing?” Plagg sighed as Adrien clicked the entry form.

“Oh, come on, Plagg. I can’t let that guy win! If anyone is going to win a date with Ladybug, it’s me! I know her better than anyone,” Adrien said.

Plagg floated down in front of his face. “And you don’t think it’s going to be a problem if you get a perfect score? Let’s just broadcast to the world that you’re Chat Noir!”

“I’m not that dense, Plagg.” Adrien waved him out of the way. “I’ll sign up with a fake email and username. No one will ever know Adrien Agreste won.”

Pursing his lips, he tapped the keys of his keyboard in thought on the account creation screen. He needed something inconspicuous, but not too mysterious. Something that wouldn’t be surprising when Chat Noir revealed himself as the winner, but also, not something that would be a dead giveaway that it was him. He didn’t want Ladybug to disqualify him for cheating. Besides, he wasn’t really cheating. There were no rules that her best friend and partner couldn’t enter…

He’d keep it simple but on brand — thecatsmeow had a nice ring to it, and it was surprisingly not taken. Now that his account was squared away, he just had to pass the quiz. 40 questions? Piece of cake.

What is Ladybug’s favorite color? Easy, pink.

Favorite musical artist? Jagged Stone.

Eye color?

It was almost sad how easy the questions were, and before he knew it, he’d finished. Adrien sat back as the site tabulated his score, and Plagg came to a rest on the top of his chair. A perfect score flashed on the screen, and Adrien shot up with a whoop.

“Yes! Take that ladybugsfuturebf!” he cheered.

“Don’t you think Ladybug is going to be mad when she finds out you won?” Plagg asked.

“Oh, come on. If anything, this just proves how much I pay attention. She’ll be impressed that I know her so well,” he said. At Plagg’s skeptical expression, Adrien sat back down. “And she’s not going to have a choice because I won fair and square.”

“You’re delusional.” Plagg floated off.

Adrien shrugged it off, smiling at his username at the top of the leaderboard. He was finally going to get that movie date with Ladybug! Nothing was going to sour his mood.

***

The next day, Adrien arrived at school as usual, shutting the door to his silver town car without a second thought. After winning the date with Ladybug, he was on cloud nine, imaging how romantic it would be in the dark theater. Maybe he’d pick a horror movie and hold her when she got scared. Oh! And their hands could brush as they both reached for popcorn at the same time! Entering the contest was the best idea he’d ever had.

“There’s no way it’s not him. Chat Noir totally won the contest,” Alya said as he entered the classroom.

Adrien stopped in his tracks. Okay, maybe not his best idea, but it was fine because he used a fake account. There was no way they traced it back to him.

None of them paid him any mind as he took his seat beside Nino, who was tapping his chin in thought.

“But why would Chat Noir need to enter a contest to spend time with Ladybug. He spends like the most time with her out of everyone,” Nino said.

“It’s so obvious. He’s been trying to get her to go to the movies with him for like ever, and now she has to say yes,” Alya said.

“Shouldn’t that be against the rules or something?” Marinette asked. “I mean, they spend so much time together, of course he’d know all the answers.”

“I’m willing to allow it because I think it’s really funny, and I don’t mind being Chat Noir’s wing woman.” She shrugged.

“Alya!” Marinette gasped.

“What? I want them to get together. Sue me.” Alya giggled.

“Hey, didn’t all the contestants have to have valid accounts to enter? What’s the name on the email address for the username that won?” Nino asked.

Adrien stiffened.

“Way ahead of you,” Alya said. “I looked right after the results posted, but the email is registered to an obvious alias, which further proves that it’s Chat Noir. He wouldn’t use his real name. He may not always look it, but he’s a smart cat.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be offended by that statement or not.  

“Dang, would have been cool if we learned who he was,” Nino said.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief when they let it drop. Everything was fine, and Alya wasn’t going to disqualify him. He could already taste the popcorn!

“Ya know,” it was Max who spoke up, having stopped midway up the stairs to his desk upon overhearing their conversation, “if you’re interested in knowing who the account really belongs to, I can track the IP address.”

Adrien’s heart shot up to his throat.

“Wait, for real?” Alya perked up.

“That would be totally awesome!” Nino added.

Maybe it would be fine. His father paid for crazy firewalls to protect his design secrets. No way anyone could get through them… Right?

“I recently upgraded Markov’s tracking capacity. I can crack a low-grade military firewall and find an address with pin-point accuracy,” Max said.

Most of the time, Adrien was amazed at Max’s genius, but today he was terrified of it. Plagg was right, entering the quiz was a surefire way to get him caught!

“Guys, that’s an invasion of privacy! Besides, don’t you think it will be dangerous if it is Chat Noir? I mean, exposing his identity will lead Hawkmoth right to his door. You’re practically handing him his Miraculous,” Marinette, his sweet pig-tailed savior, said.

Adrien cleared his throat and turned around, “Yeah, Marinette’s right. I think it will cause more trouble than it’s worth.” For him specifically.

“Chill out, I’m not going to post it online or anything. I just think if we knew who he was we could help him. I can be the girl on the ground, and I can also give him tips to fix his pitiful attempts at flirting with Ladybug,” Alya said.

Pitiful! Oh, she was definitely getting snubbed next time she asked for an interview.

“Alya, it’s dangerous and wrong. Even if he entered the contest for selfish reasons, that doesn’t mean you can invade his privacy like that.” Marinette chided. “Promise me you won’t look into it. It would put all of you and him in danger.”

Alya pursed her lips, exchanging glances with Max and Nino before slumping in her seat.

“Fine, I won’t look into it,” she said.

“Good,” Marinette said as Mlle. Bustier entered and called for everyone to find their seats.

Adrien turned back around, breathing out a ragged sigh. That was close, but it had all worked out in the end. He’d have to stop by the bakery later and buy a caseload of chouquettes to thank Marinette. Her level-head really saved his hide.

As the day wore on, Adrien pushed the morning’s conversation from his mind, though he had a feeling Plagg would give him an earful about it later. It would all be worth it when he and Ladybug finally went on their date. Could he get cherry blossoms this time of year? They were just barely out of season, but he could probably pull a few strings.

He pulled out his phone to check as he entered the library, and he’d almost found a promising listing when he rounded the corner and found Alya and Max crowded around a laptop at a table. Ducking back behind the bookshelf, he strained his ears to listen.

“His firewall is surprisingly good, it may take me a while to crack,” Max was saying.

“But you can definitely get around it?” Alya asked.

“Of course, what do you take me for?” Max scoffed.

They were going through with it after all! Adrien’s heart sped up, his palms growing shaky and sweaty. He should go over to their table and call them out for going back on their word, but would it be suspicious if he got onto them? Why would he be so bent on keeping Chat Noir’s identity secret unless he was Chat Noir? This was bad! What should he do?

Adrien bolted from the library, peering out over the railing at the courtyard below. Marinette was sketching quietly on a bench, and he raced to her side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, recoiling back with a nervous smile, probably in response to how desperate and deranged he looked, but there was no time to worry about that.

“Marinette, we have to stop Alya and Max. They’re in the library trying to crack Chat Noir’s firewall right now!” He panted.

“What?” She abandoned her sketchbook on the bench and took the lead back up the stairs to the library.

She burst through the doors and stormed over to their table, and Adrien did his best to look supportive but not too panicked. Alya winced when she saw them, and Marinette placed her hands on her hips.

“So, you were just going to go behind my back and do it anyways?” She scoffed.

“I’m sorry, girl! But think of how much good we could do if we could team up and help him!” Alya said.

“Think of how much danger you’re putting yourselves in! If Hawkmoth finds out you know his identity, he’ll come after you and your families. What if one of you gets akumatized? You could get hurt. Chat Noir could get hurt or worse!” Marinette said.

“She’s right. You guys shouldn’t go through with this,” Adrien added.

“I’m almost through the firewall,” Max said.

“Call it off, Max!” Marinette ordered.

“Keep going! We’re so close!” Alya pleaded. She turned to Marinette and pressed her palms together. “Look, I know it’s risky, but what if we can help take down Hawkmoth? That’s worth the risk, right?”

“It’s not our job! We don’t have superpowers, and it can put us and the people we love in danger!” Marinette placed her hands on Alya’s shoulders. “Please, stop.”

“Girl, I know you’re scared for me, but I promise I’ll be careful. ‘All that’s necessary for the triumph of evil-”

“That doesn’t apply here!” Marinette shook her head.

“I made it through the firewall!” Max said. “A few more seconds, and I can tell you exactly where he lives.”

Marinette and Alya were at a stand-off, and every clack of Max’s keyboard was a nail in Adrien’s coffin. He didn’t have a choice, but if they were going to find out it was him, he was going to do whatever it took to convince them he wasn’t Chat Noir. He just hoped Ladybug didn’t think he was a total freak afterward.

“It’s me!” He blurted. When Marinette and Alya turned to him with quirked brows, he let out a sigh. “I’m the one who won the contest. I’m thecatsmeow.”

Max’s keyboard went silent, and he turned the screen to face them where Adrien’s home address was flashing. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Whoa, so you’re Chat Noir?” Alya grinned.

“No!” Adrien held up cautioning hands. “I’m just, uhh, I didn’t want my father to know I entered, so I used a fake profile. There’s no way he would have let me go if he knew about it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Marinette asked.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “I guess I was just embarrassed. I didn’t want any of you to think less of me.”

“I don’t think less of you!” Marinette assured him. “I-I mean, you won the contest fair and square, and you had every right to enter.”

Alya’s eyes narrowed, and Adrien shrank under her gaze.

“I’m still not entirely convinced. Ladybug and I made some of those questions crazy specific. How would you know she doesn’t like anchovies on her pizza, or that she likes lemon in her tea?” Alya crossed her arms over her chest.

“I… have a lot of money and free time.” He shrugged. “I got a bunch of drone cameras and spy equipment, and I watch her and Chat Noir all the time.” When everyone stared at him with wide eyes, he quickly added, “Not in a creepy way! I just admire her.”

“…You don’t know her identity, do you?” Marinette asked.

“No, of course not! I’d never do something like that.” Adrien shook his head. “I’m just…her biggest fan.”

Alya looked him up and down, her skeptical expression giving way to a smile. “You could have just said something. I mean, you know how freak-crazy I am about all of this. I would have understood.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just used to keeping a lot of my interests a secret because I have my father’s brand to consider — and my father to consider. If he knew what I was doing, he’d put an end to it immediately.” Adrien traced his thumb over his ring behind his back.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us. Your secret’s safe.” Alya placed a hand on his shoulder with a wink. “Though, I may need to borrow your drone from time to time as payment.”

“Alya,” Marinette said in a warning tone.

“We’ll discuss the details later,” she said. “And if you ever want to talk Ladybug, I’m always here.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, letting his shoulders relax.

“Though, I am still a bit confused on your logic. I mean, you won the contest, so you were going to have to reveal it was you eventually to claim your prize. What was your plan there?” Alya quirked a brow.

“Uhh, wear a disguise?” Adrien said with a wince.

Alya threw her head back with a laugh. “Well, congrats on winning. I’ll pass the message on to Ladybug that you’re the winner, and we’ll arrange your prize soon.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said.

When the bell rang, Alya and Max packed up, and Adrien breathed a sigh of relief as they headed to their next class. That was way too close, but somehow, he’d managed to convince them. Plagg was going to scold him later.

Marinette fell into step beside him, tugging at her blazer.

“Um, congrats on winning,” she said. “I-I think it’s a good thing you won instead of some weirdo. I mean, if I was Ladybug, I’d be happy you won because it means we’d get to spend time together, and who wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”

Adrien smiled at her. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to hanging out with her. I admire her a lot,” he said. “And thanks for your help earlier.”

“N-n- Mmmhmm.” Marinette nodded.

She fell back to link up with Alya, and Adrien bit back a smile. It wasn’t exactly what he’d planned, but he still got to spend time with Ladybug either way. And who knew? Maybe there would be advantages to her going with Adrien Agreste instead of Chat Noir. At least this way, she couldn’t scold him. Besides, it didn’t matter to him which side she fell in love with, so long as it was him. He couldn’t wait for their date!

[squarebracketsmileyface]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I WOULD KILL FOR BIRDIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT MAMA LARK AND PAPA TIM AND BUBA BRIAN AND LITTLE BIRDIE TO JUST BE THE BEST HAPPY FAMILY IN THE WORLD GAH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mon I hope you know this will forever be in my brain, all my thoughts, are going to be consumed by them.

Do you think inthe everyone lives au they'd want more kids or are they completely happy with their little surprise miracle? And in that vain, do you think Tim would yeet his uterus/ get his tubes tide after Birdie is born or like, again, maybe perhaps... holding out for the possibility of another....

(Don't mind me, I'm just a fiend with baby fever and the love of projecting onto my favorite guys)

~💜

Oh dude even in the 'canon' of Sorry, It's Locked Tim does end up with another kid.

The second kid is more planned than Birdie but still not entirely planned (as in, he and Brian have been talking about it and have been a bit less careful about using protection, but it still happens a lot sooner than they expected it to lol). They name this kid Jesse and it's a little boy, so Birdie gets a little brother.

In the 'everyone lives' AU I think I'd keep this. Around the time when Birdie is sorta 12-13 ish, after Brian comes back into their lives and eventually starts dating Lark and Tim, he and Tim have a kid as well, and again, that kid is Jesse.

Also Jesse is like, obsessed with his big sister when he's a baby. Like, he only wants to be held by her, he stares at her constantly, y'know? He just really loves his big sister.

OH YEAH WAIT I FORGOT TO TELL YOU SOME STUFF ABOUT BIRDIE IN THE LAST ONE.

Birdie is a bug autistic, she fucking loves insects of all kinds. Every type of insect, there isn't a single one she dislikes. However, Tim really doesn't like bugs much (blame that on waking up in the forest, lying on the floor covered in insects and insect bites) but he tries for Birdie. Like, she wants to raise caterpillars? Sure, they can do that... Except that Birdie releases the butterflies in his room one day and he almost has a panic attack so now he's gotta explain to 3-4 year old Birdie that she really "really can't do that because papa is very scared of bugs, even the pretty ones". Birdie gets it and is allowed to raise caterpillars again, but she does ask if that means she can't dress up as insects for Halloween anymore, if Tim is even scared of the pretty ones.

Obviously, Tim says she is the prettiest bug and only bug he likes. She is very happy and proceeds to dress as a shield bug for the next Halloween. Tim is just very confused by her choice 💀

Confused but supportive dad lol

I think I also forgot to mention some of how Birdie is in 'canon' S,IL while it's just her and Tim. Because even though Tim hides MH from her, he can't really hide the PTSD kinda stuff it left him with. He can't hide the nightmares that wake him up, he can't hide how scared he is when he forgets things, stuff like that. He and Birdie have this kinda routine where if he wakes her up with his nightmare she goes and sleeps in his bed with him. So she'll wake up because he's yelled or something in his dream and she'll go into his room (wake him up if he isn't already awake) and they'll cuddle until they both fall back asleep.

A lot of Tim's nightmares pot MH are about losing people, they're about losing Jay and about losing Brian, they're about killing Alex and lying to Jessica about what really happened and then never seeing her again, stuff like that. But they're also about losing Birdie. They're about sort of "what if" scenarios where he lost her before he even knew he was pregnant, where the fight with Alex at the end caused him to miscarry. They're about losing her to some horrible accident now that he actually has her to look after. They're about the Operator coming back and hurting her. They're about the Operator coming back and Tim doing to Birdie what his mum did to him, sending her away to a mental hospital and rarely coming to visit.

The ones about Birdie are the worst for him, the others he kinda knows how to deal with, he dealt with them during MH and also, they did happen. He did lose those people. In a way that makes it less scary, because it's just reliving the events in a way and he can kinda handle that. But the dreams about losing Birdie? They fuck him up. Some days even sending her off to school after a really bad nightmare about losing her feels like too much and can send him into panic attacks all day.

On days like that he and Birdie have an agreement with the school that Birdie can phone home at break and lunch, and if Tim really needs to he can phone and ask for her outside of break and lunch. He tries not to need that one, he doesn't wanna drag her out of class in front of everyone, he doesn't want the other kids to make fun of her for it, because kids can be mean like that. Birdie doesn't really care what the other kids think. She doesn't even realise that getting called out of class like that could be something to be embarrassed by. All she cares about is "my papa is sad and scared and I can make him feel better by talking to him about bugs" because on those phonecalls she literally just talks about bugs she's seen that day and Tim's just happy to listen and remember that she's alive and safe and strangely obsessed with bugs.

ALSO kinda on the same lines as this, even tho Birdie loves Brian as a teacher, she's kinda suspicious of him when he and Tim get together. Like, not massively, but the first time Brian sees Tim have a nightmare when he stays the night, he ends up getting kicked out of Tim's room by Birdie because she doesn't trust him to know how to help. She kinda gets one of those little kid power trips about being the only one who knows how to look after her papa when he has a nightmare, like, she feels all special because just being there or talking to him makes him feel better, y'know lol?

She gets all high and mighty with Brian and he tries to focus on how funny he finds it rather than panicking about whether Tim is okay.

When Birdie doesn't come out of Tim's room again Brian cracks the door to look in and absolutely melts because Birdie and Tim are sound asleep all cuddled up together. Brian sleeps on the sofa that night and ends up all manners of fucked up because it is NOT a comfy sofa to sleep on and his back is already fucked 💀

Many many spasms were had all the next day. That poor man was not having a good time. Birdie feels sorry for him and tells him that next time he can go and sleep in her bed instead.

He appreciates the offer 💀

It doesn't take much convincing from Tim for Birdie to let Brian stay after the first few times he has a nightmare while Brian is staying over, rather than her causing a whole palava kicking Brian out (cos that's not as simple as just, Brian gets up and walks out of the room, he has to transfer into his wheelchair and make sure he grabs his morning meds in case Birdie won't let him back into the room in the morning when he needs them, and make sure he brings his service dog with him cos she sleeps on the bed with him and Tim, y'know? A little less simple than "get up and walk out". Also his neck is also kinda fucked up from the fall so he has a specific pillow that he always uses, which if he doesn't he always finds his neck all kinda of fucked up in the morning, so he's gotta grab that too lol)

Anyway, eventually Brian just becomes part of their whole nightmare routine and Birdie realises that teaming up with him to look after Tim works way better than doing it on her own. So she and Brian cuddle Tim from both sides and he gets extra reminded that they're both still there. Also Brian's service dog is probably trained to help with PTSD, cos no way Brian isn't also a little fucked in the head after MH, so she can task and do deep pressure for Tim. She's a bit confused at first cos usually she does it for Brian, but she gets it very quickly. Birdie is delighted that a dog can be taught to cuddle on command.

Oh shit you asked about tubes tied and stuff as well lmao. Sorry I got so distracted.

I think after they have Jesse, Tim gets a hysterectomy and all that. He doesn't wanna go through pregnancy and birth a third time, so they get that done so he doesn't have to worry about it. He jokes that if Brian or Lark wants another kid they'll have to figure out which one of them is gonna carry it.

He'd be happy to have another kid, all three of them have pretty good jobs now (Lark's the big moneymaker for the family with Tim close behind, Brian's still a teacher because he adores kids) so they could support a third kid financially, but if they want another kid, they're gonna have to adopt or go through a surrogacy thing rather than Tim carrying it like with Birdie and Jesse.

Oh yeah also the kids names:

Birdie is "Birdie Amelia Wright"

Jesse is "Jesse Alexander Thomas"

Yes, I know it's dumb but I love it. Jesse for Jessica. Alexander for Alex. Amelia for Amy. Tim names his kids so that people who were lost to MH are still kept alive in a little way (yeah yeah Jessica is still alive, but Tim has no way of getting in touch with her so nyeh). In the 'everyone lives' AU that kinda doesn't work as well so Jesse's middle name would probably be different in that, cos Alex is still alive lol. But yeah.

@pianofirepirate helped me come up with the Kids full names :]

I've ranted to them about this shit so much recently lol.

SPEAKING OF RANTING TO THEM here's another thing we came up with:

In the 'canon' of S,IL Birdie does eventually find out about MH. Probably about when she's 15-17 I think? One of her friends tells her about it, like, mentions that her dad's look like two of the guys from this old YouTube horror series and shows her a couple things that people managed to save before Tim deleted the MH channel and all that, cos even in universe I like to think MH got relatively popular, with people thinking it was a fictional horror series. It starts a WHOLE conversation at home with Tim and Brian where they have to explain that yeah all that stuff happened to them, no they really don't remember a lot of it (especially Brian), yes people think it's fictional but it's not, etc etc etc.

Tim and Brian are upset that some 'random' kid at school showed MH to Birdie, but over all it's not a world ending thing. What it does do though, is open the floodgates on jokes about stuff that happened in MH. E.g. "can't believe you pushed me off a building" jokes. Brian uses that one so often and Tim just sighs dramatically and comes back with "First of all, you fell! And also YOU'D BEEN STEALING MY MEDS FOR YEARS AND I DIDNT KNOW WHO YOU WERE BEHIND THAT STUPID MASK!" And Birdie just sits back and watches in glee. She finds it hilarious.

Though the first time Brian accused Tim of pushing him she did go "you pushed him off a building!?!?" Like, completely taken aback and they had to explain the whole thing to her and they probably showed her the video so she could see what actually happened.

Honestly I think that maybe once Birdie is like, 18 they end up putting all the videos back up. Maybe they only privated them rather than deleting them idk. But yeah I think after a while they'd just silently put the videos back up and all the lost media people rejoiced, and there's just the unspoken thing that Birdie can watch the videos if she wants to.

She doesn't.

Like, she watches a little bit of it here and there. But she never actually sits down and watches everything, she just doesn't feel like it's something she needs to do. She watches enough to know who the people being talked about by her dads are (Amy, Jessica etc etc etc) and she watches a couple entries with Jay in them over and over and over again. But generally, she just doesn't want to watch the whole thing, y'know. She doesn't watch all of MH and she hasn't seen a single TTA video.

Wait that reminds me now again (sorry, I keep fucking doing this)

That whole thing with Tim sometimes needing to phone Birdie's school and just, like, make sure she's still alive. That doesn't fully go away when Birdie gets older and goes off to college/university. Tim's always been a bit of a helicopter parent and though he gets better at it, he and Birdie do make time to phone each other pretty much every night. Mostly it's just Birdie talking about her day and what she's been up to, and Tim listening. Occasionally he'll chip in with bits about his day, but mostly he's happy to listen to her talking about her studies. (She's gonna be a bug scientist. I can't remember what they're called. But she's gonna be a big scientist, specifically working in conservation of insects).

If Birdie misses a phone call one evening Tim will definitely start to panic a bit, but he makes sure he only sends her one or two texts to check in before he forces himself to put his phone down and go spend time with Brian and/or Jesse :]

Cos while Birdie's uni age, Jesse is only like, idk 10 at most? So Tim still has a lot to do, y'know? Jesse keeps him and Brian occupied and while he's looking after/spending time with Jesse, Tim manages to take his mind off worrying about Birdie pretty well.

[los-ninos-tortugas]

*showers you in birthday confetti* Rise Leo and 03 Leo swap bodies for the day with no warning. What happens? How do their families react? How many toasters perish before the Rise boys figure out to keep 03 Leo away from the kitchen?

(Ah! Paper viscera!) Hi, this was too good to just write a headcanon about it. (Nobody get too used to this. I'm not going to do this every time someone puts a prompt in my inbox, this one just particularly inspired me.)

Something is off, Leonardo notes almost absently as he slowly blinks into wakefulness. He can't quite pin it down though. He doesn't feel sick, no headache, no nausea, no congestion.

As he rubs the grit out of his eyes a flash of blue catches his attention. Huh, that's odd, he thinks as he inspects his hand. His nails are painted a bright blue that definitely wasn't there when he went to sleep. Was that what was bothering him? Did Mikey paint his nails while he was asleep or something? If he wasn't so annoyed at Michelangelo's latest idea of a prank he'd be more impressed at the stealth it would have taken to pull that off without waking him. Leo is a notoriously light sleeper after all.

Except no. That's not it. As much as the nail polish bugs him he can tell that's not all that's wrong. His hand is the wrong color. His scales have taken on a more lime green hue than the forest green he'd always been. He certainly doesn't feel sick but something must be wrong if his scales are so off color...

He sits up in bed, knocking the covers off himself so he can take better stock of himself and finally get to the bottom of what exactly is wrong. But now that he's upright he realizes that the vague feeling of something being off doesn't begin and end with his body. He looks around and realizes he has no idea where he is. He is certainly not in his room in the lair, that's for sure.

He recognizes that he's in a subway car that has been kitted out to be a bedroom. The bed he's sitting on is balanced on some seats. On the wall to his right are posters for things he doesn't recognize (some movie he's never heard of some kind of rock band). To his left are some shelves cluttered with various knicknacks and next to that is the door, currently shut. Behind him is what appears to be some sort of closet area.

So either Leonardo has been turtle-napped in the night and brought to some strange place or maybe he is sick and he's having some kind of weird fever dream/hallucination. Given his family's famous "turtle luck" he's more certain of the former than the latter. But that doesn't explain the oddities such as painting his nails or why his scales are off color or why he's in what looks like some other kid's room.

Leonardo quickly stands up and almost just as quickly falls back down onto the mattress as he's surprised by his center of gravity being completely off. He tries again, slower this time. He seriously needs to take stock of himself. He almost trips over his own feet as he heads over to the closet and it suddenly occurs to him that he's taller now too.

Luckily for him there's a full length mirror in the closet. Unluckily seeing his reflection does nothing to help his situation as the turtle staring back at him is not one he recognizes in the least. He experimentally waves his arm just to make sure it actually is his reflection and sure enough he sees the motion reflected back at him.

The image in the mirror is of a mutant turtle who is taller and more lanky than Leonardo is. All lean muscle as opposed to the more stout and stocky build Leonardo and his brothers all share. More than that, Leonardo is pretty sure that this turtle is a completely different species than he is. He and his brothers are all common box turtles but as he takes in the colorful scales on his arms, legs, and face (that he momentarily panicked over, thinking they might be scars) he determines that this is a red-eared slider. He turns and looks over his shoulder to get a better look at the shell. A dark blue-grey with oval patterns though, they've been slightly marred and made incongruous by healed over cracks in the carapace. Leonardo winces in sympathy.

There are other scars as well, he finds as he continues his investigation. All of various sizes, some more faded than others. Though the largest one he finds is one along the right knee. It's big but it's a clean cut as well, surgical perhaps. He notices now that the knee itself is starting to get more and more achy the longer he stands.

He thinks back to the time he and his brothers met their alternative selves from other dimensions. Maybe something similar is happening again right now, and this is another universe, and this is his alternate self. But why is he here in this way? Why has he swapped with his alternate suddenly? What was the catalyst? He needs to fix this quickly. Who knows what kind of damage to the multiverse this swap could be doing.

He finds his other self's gear quickly enough. Gloves and socks but strangely no elbow or knee pads. There is a knee brace though, which he slips on and is glad for the relief it provides (he can't help but wonder what had happened to this version of himself). It's comforting to tie the blue mask on even if it technically isn't his. He's just glad certain things stay consistent across the multiverse.

Speaking of which, if he's in another version of the lair then that must mean that there's a version of Master Splinter here. Even on the comparatively silly Earth-87 that Master Splinter had been just as kind and wise as Leonardo's own father. Maybe if he can talk to this version of Splinter he can help him understand what's going on and help him fix it.

With that sort-of plan in mind Leonardo finally heads out of the room to go find Splinter. But as he steps out two things quickly become apparent. 1) He has no idea what the layout of this version of the lair is. And 2) holy crap this place is huge. So apparently the subway car wasn't just an aesthetic choice, these guys just decided to set up shop in an abandoned train station . Okay so slight hiccup in his plan but he's not going to let it deter him.

His attention is drawn to the distant sound of voices echoing from somewhere else in the lair. That's probably as good a direction to start as any. He follows the sound until it becomes three distinct voices. It's when he's standing in the doorway of the kitchen does he realize he's made a grave mistake. Because there in front of him are this universe's versions of his brothers. Even if he couldn't tell who was who from the colors of their masks the distinctions are self evident because 1) What the hell are they feeding this universe's Raph? 2) Why aren't they feeding whatever it is to Mikey why is he so small?? And 3) What is up with Donny's shell, he's got on some sort of prosthetic? Did something happen to his carapace in this world?

It's all he can do to school his face into something neutral rather than giving away just how stupefied he is right now. He doesn't want to alarm these guys after all, best not to make them aware of what exactly is going on until he can talk to Master Splinter and they can explain it together. But he's also so busy trying to mentally get his shit together that he completely misses that Raphael said good morning to him.

"Uhh, Leo?" Raph waves a (huge) hand in front of Leonardo's face, effectively snapping him out of his trance.

"What? Oh-" is that his voice? Well, no, no, it's the other Leo's voice. He just wasn't expecting to sound like that. He clears his throat and tries again, "Sorry, still groggy I guess. Morning, Raphael."

Be cool, act natural, he tells himself.

Raph blinks at him, the tiniest frown on his face. Leo tries for a smile that he's pretty sure comes out looking more like a grimace and stupidly walks past Big Raph further into the kitchen.

What are you doing? Abort! Abort! They're clearly all sitting down to breakfast, so if he just turned around and left after staring at them like an idiot for a minute that would be much more suspicious.

"Morning, Donatello. Morning, Michelangelo," he greets, not noticing the looks of concern and confusion the three brothers throw each other behind his back as he beelines toward the fridge. He has no idea why that's where he decided to go but in for a penny in for a pound. Thankfully when he opens the freezer he finds some frozen waffles. He takes out two and heads for the toaster, grateful for the excuse to not have to look the others in the eye. He drops them into the toaster slots and unknowingly pushes the pedal down just a little too hard. Now that his meaningless task is done the silence in the kitchen is deafening. Still he avoids turning back around.

Leonardo leans his elbows on the counter and starts picking at the nail polish. He feels slightly bad about it since these aren't his hands and he really shouldn't be ruining something that belongs to his other self but it just feels weird to him to have it on and he needs something else to do with his hands right now.

"Hey Leo," a voice says from behind him. He forces himself to turn and acknowledge who turns out to be Little Mikey standing there with a look of gentle concern on his face. Little Mikey takes his hands in his, forcing Leo to stop his frantic picking at his nails. "You havin' a bad day?" he asks.

Which, yes, Leonardo very much is. He's in another universe in the body of his alternate self and he has no idea how or why. But they're not supposed to know that yet so instead he replies, "I just woke up, how could I be having a bad day already?"

That just made Little Mikey's face soften even more. (Neither of them notice the smoke starting to slowly rise from the toaster behind Leonardo's back)

"It's okay if you are, did you have another nightmare last night?" This Leo gets frequent nightmares? He mentally files that away. But he doesn't trust himself to answer verbally so he shakes his head no. He's really gone and put himself in a corner here. He was trying not to alarm the brothers but evidently his demeanor is so off from their Leo that he's done nothing but draw attention to himself. He should've just bailed.

"C'mon we talked about this, no more brushing things off. If you need to talk about it-" There's a loud popping sound behind him and the feeling of intense heat as the room suddenly erupts into chaos when the toaster on the counter spontaneously bursts into flames. Not that Leo sees all of it happen because even though he himself was only mildly caught off guard by the event, the body he's currently occupying has a much stronger reaction. He is suddenly in darkness as his head and limbs rapidly retract into his shell which then crashes to the floor, thoroughly disorienting him.

The smoke alarm beeps rapidly from somewhere above, Other Donny produces a fire extinguisher to put out the toaster, and someone (probably Big Raph) starts to pick him up off the floor.

If the sensation of retracting into his shell after going his whole life being unable to do that was already disorienting, being picked up while still inside said shell was a whole other level of that. As quick as he can he forces his limbs and head back out and extricates himself from Big Raph's hold. He tries to ignore the look of hurt that crosses Big Raph's face. He's made a mess of things already, it's time to get out of dodge while he still can.

"Sorryaboutthetoastergottatalktomastersplinterbye!" he says all in one breath as he races out of the kitchen and back into the lair. Wherever his other self is in the multiverse, Leonardo sure hopes he's having better luck than he is.

--------

(I'm going to finish this with Rise Leo's POV later but at the moment I don't have time to finish this, hope you liked it so far though. Thanks for the ask!)

[running2reanimation]

Illness

Caring comes in many forms.

King scrunched his face up as he felt the light hit it, rolling over to waking. But the the soft whine that followed had his eyes shooting open.

Gold was standing in his bedroom door, clutching his blanket. Now that King was awake, he could smell it before Gold even said it, “I threw up.”

King looked at the clock; he’d only been asleep for two hours. Oh well, time to get moving now.

First order of business, stripping Gold’s bed and pyjamas and putting them in the wash and cleaning Gold’s floor while convincing the feverish Gold to rest on the couch.

Once that was cleaned up, it was time to take his son’s temperature. Gold whined about it, curling away from the thermometer, “Come on now, under your tongue, there you go sunshine.”

Well, that was definitely high, but not dangerously so. Not rush him to the hospital high. King shuffled his way to the medicine cabinet and pulled out the fever suppressant and something to settle Gold’s stomach.

He read and double checked both bottles before measuring out the doses, two tablets and a glass of water.

“Here you go, yes both of them, no not at the same time if you don’t want to, down the hatch,” King steadied Gold’s shaking hand and helped him tilt the glass to his lips.

“There we go, good job,” King soothed, settling Gold back onto the couch, “Try and get some more rest, alright?”

And he could hear the washer come to a stop, so off he went to move the laundry along while his son slipped in and out of fevered dreams.

At least it was first thing in the morning and not midday, making calls and getting the day off wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Of course he’d do what he could at home, so the day wouldn’t be a total waste.

Not that taking care of his sick son was a wasted day.

He still hadn’t had a cup of coffee yet. At least that explained the growing headache.

By the time the sun was up, Gold’s bedding was dry and King remade the bed and scooped up the now deeply asleep child - who was soon to be too big to pick up - and tucked him in.

King placed a bucket next to the bed and a glass of water on the nightstand, just in case.

Gold slept most of the morning, crawling out of bed to sit at the kitchen table, “‘M hungry and out of water.”

“Okay, well, I want to check your temperature again, but you’re looking a lot better than earlier,” King got the thermometer again, and Gold was a lot better about taking it this time.

Definitely going down, but still a little warm, “How’s your stomach doing? You said you were hungry, how about some toast and a banana?”

Gold nodded and King went to work toasting up two slices of bread and cutting up a banana, “Don’t force yourself to eat it all.”

He managed to finish one slice of toast and few bites of banana, to which King nodded in approval before giving Gold another dose of medicine and sending him back to bed.

King ate the remaining toast and banana and considered that his lunch.

When King went to check up on Gold later, he found his son sitting up in bed, playing one of his video games, eyes bright and alert, “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“A lot,” Gold nodded as King laid a hand on his forehead. No longer felt feverish, that was good.

“How does supper sound, nothing big, maybe some fried rice?”

“Sounds good!”

“Good,” King let out a breath and felt himself finally start to relax from where he’d been tense all day.

——

King arched an eyebrow as Purple marched from his room, bedding in arms, to the laundry room, “Purple?”

“Just a minute,” Came the all too quiet response; once the washer was going Purple joined him in the kitchen, “Sorry, I was just a little bit sick this morning, don’t worry I’ve got it cleaned up-”

“Have you checked your temperature yet?” King chided, already getting up to fetch the thermometer from the cupboard.

“C’mon Baba, do I have to? It’s just a normal stomach bug…”

“Humour me, please?” With a whine, Purple stuck the thermometer under his tongue.

“Okay, so it’s a little high, but it’s not dangerous ‘rush me to the hospital’ high. Don’t worry about it Baba, I’ve got this. I’ve been sick like this before, I know how to take care of myself,” Purple reassured, swaying as he stood up on trembling legs.

“Okay. I’ll try, but worried is one of my default states these days. I do have some medicine if you would like to take some.”

“I… yeah, think I would. Up in the medicine cupboard, yeah?” Purple asked swinging the cupboard door open.

“Let me get that for you, I think you’re too short to reach,” King reached up and grabbed the two bottles of medicine.

“You’ve got to stop being so tall.”

“Unfortunately, it’s a curse I must bear for the rest of my life.”

Purple measured out the pills, swallowing them dry and making King cringe, “You should probably have some water.”

“Once the medicine starts kicking in and I’m sure it’ll stay down,” Purple nodded, moving to go back to the laundry room since the washer stopped.

“I’ve got it, you go lay down in my bed for now and get some more rest.”

“But-”

“Purple, go rest. Please.”

“Fine, but only because you said please.”

—

King hadn’t really been in Purple’s room before, he wasn’t expecting it to be so sparse as he made the teen’s bed. A few purple things and a cherry blossom bonsai, no books or anything.

He’d have to get Purple some more things to help make his room more homey.

And now that the bed was made he scooped up up Purple - who was definitely too big for him to carry like that - and tucked him in with a bucket and a glass of water for the bedside.

Purple woke up not too long afterwards and headed to the kitchen, “Making some toast and applesauce, if you want some.”

“No thanks, do you want any help?”

“I got it, thanks,” Purple’s tone was a little snippy, but he caught himself pretty quick, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, you’re not feeling well.”

“I am not,” Purple agreed, munching on his single piece of toast, “Gonna take some more medicine and head back to bed to ride this out.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

[giggly-squiggily]

Amazing, Showstopping, Glamorous Blue Lock Headcanons That Are Definitely True Ego Told Me So #1

Inspired by a friend and I yelling about Blue Lock lately. Some of these are yours, friend. Thank you for contributing to my madness :D

Don't now if I'm gonna make a part 2 but eh? We'll see where my next fever dream takes me.

Isagi un-ironically Naruto-ran throughout middle school. He thought it made him look cool and increased his speed. One day he was full blown running across the soccer field and took a heavy nose dive- breaking it. He stopped doing it after that.

Raichi's playlist is entirely made up of early 2000's/2010's pop hits. I'm talking Britney Spears, Destiny's Child, Ariana Grande, and his queen herself- Lady Gaga. Knows all the songs and dances and performs them at 2 am in the Blue Lock cafeteria when he thinks no one's up. Has been walked in on multiple times.

Chigiri has a very specific set of bookish characters that if their name is even referenced he will throw hands. You wanna see this soft spoken shy princess swear up a storm? Drop a name. "Hey Chigiri, who's Gale Hawthorne-" "Don't you ever speak that bastard's name in my presence again."

Kunigami loves All Might from My Hero Academia. He's not at the collector level Deku is in the show but he'll quote the Number 1 Hero ("Former-" "We don't talk about the other guy, Isagi. There's only All Might"). Only Isagi knows what he's saying; everyone else has heard "Plus Ultra" but doesn't really get it.

Bachira is a fantastic artist. He gets it from his momma and it shows! He likes to draw the monster a lot, but he has drawn everyone in the room at least once. Whenever he draws his friends, they'll have little decorations associated with them. (Kuni's got a cape, Chigiri's got a tiny crown, Isagi has his own monster.)

Nagi can do the worm. He does mainly when he's already on the floor and is too lazy to stand, so he just kinda wiggles over to wherever he needs to go. No one knows where he learned it but it's absolutely hilarious to watch.

Sae speaks fluid Spanish from his time in Spain. This comes very apparent after Shidou pissed him off so badly he chewed him out in it. The mentioned man finds it really sexy, even if Sae's calling him a "Colossal hemorrhoid I have the displeasure of having stuck up my ass."

Despite his love for Horror games/movies, Rin is beyond easy to jump scare. His argument is that in those settings he's prepared to get spooked. Bachira can be as silent as the wind when he wants to be, so accidental (and a lot of times intentional) spooks are common between them. ".......Hi Rin!" "FU-!"

Chigiri is a great singer but horrifically shy about it. He sings in the shower when he's sure no one is around. Most of the tunes he sings are ones his sister introduced him to- things like "Uptown Girl" and "Tiny Dancer"; but he knows a handful of newer ones. One time Bachira walked in on him. The dribbler told everyone he knew about it but Chigiri flat out refuses to sing in front of anyone so it's more a rumor.

Reo on the flip side is a horrible singer and refuses to believe anything otherwise. In his head, he is a god of vocals. In reality, he sounds like Toad from Super Mario getting tased in the balls. Nagi has learned the art of tuning him out, so he's no help in disproving Reo's false beliefs.

Gagamaru has been the resident bug catcher since the Blue Lock Spider Incident of 2018. He's the only one brave enough to gather them up in his hands and put them outside.

[shadowqueenjude]

What transpired between the end of TBOSAS and the epilogue? Part 1:

Coriolanus still didn't believe this was all real.

He was certain that he'd wake up the next morning in a bunk bed in District 12 and this would all be a very strange dream.

Classes start Thursday.

He had already accepted a life as a Peacekeeper, becoming an officer, and working his way back to the Capitol that way, hopefully taking Lucy Gray back with him. It simply made no sense that the life he had so desperately wanted was suddenly within reach again, and due to Dr. Gaul, no less.

She was the one who had ruined his life, sending him to the Districts. The only bright spots in it all had been Sejanus (though he was loathe to admit it) and Lucy Gray. Smiley, Bug, and Beanpole had been decent enough, he supposed, but he wouldn't have survived as long as he did without them. Why, he had been contemplating the merits of suicide before Sejanus had showed up.

Oh no. Sejanus. It was all his fault-

Coriolanus wasn't sure at what point he fell asleep, but his dreams were anything but restful. He was back in the forest, the eerie echoes of the mockingjays singing in Lucy Gray's voice pounding in his ears. He clenched the gun like it was his lifeline, shooting like crazy. "LUCY GRAY!" he bellowed. Had that happened in reality? To be quite honest, he did not remember. The entire thing was a fever dream.

His dreams changed, and he had tears in his eyes as he listened to Lucy Gray sing a song to him. At last, a song dedicated to him and him alone.

This world, it's dark This world, it's scary I've taken some hits, so No wonder I'm wary It's why I Need you You're as pure as the driven snow

It was a lie. Lucy Gray didn't know how terrible a person he was. She didn't know that he had betrayed and murdered his best friend. For that's what he was- no matter how much he had tried to deny it to himself. Somewhere in between being constantly irritated by him and protecting him, he had grown to genuinely care for him. It was so difficult to come to terms with the fact that he had caused his death.  And impossible, apparently, for Lucy Gray, who had run away into the forest the moment she had realized.

Well, it is not as if he was very good at hiding it. What had he said?

 “Myself. I killed the old me so I could come with you.”

What a stupid thing to say. It was such a terrible lie that he wouldn't have believed himself. Why hadn't he just admitted that he had killed Sejanus? 

Because you couldn't accept it yourself, Lucy Gray whispered in his mind. Trust is important. I think it’s more important than love. I mean, I love all kinds of things I don’t trust. Thunderstorms . . . white liquor . . . snakes. Sometimes I think I love them because I can’t trust them, and how mixed up is that?

That's what he was. He was a snake. But how was she any better? She had used him, made him feel for her in ways that he still can't understand. Those people who had crossed her, Mayfair and Billy Taupe, had wound up dead. She was an even more venomous snake than him. He cursed at himself. Wicked woman. Billy Taupe had been right when he'd warned Coriolanus to stay away from her. She would be his ruin still. 

His tendency to obsess meant that he could not stop thinking of alternative scenarios where everything had gone well and everything worked out happily ever after.

"The third was Sejanus. I didn't kill him directly, but...I reported his rebel activities in the hope that he'd be returned to the Capitol and his father and he'd be off of my hands, but instead they'd executed him for it."

Lucy Gray's shadowed-blue eyes peered at him, seemingly seeing right through him. And though he was fully clothed in his dream, he'd never felt more naked. "Now do you see? The Capitol's way of justice? We are better off without it."

Coryo clasped her hands. "I agree. What they did to Sejanus is monstrous. Best we stay here." He laid his head on Lucy Gray's shoulder, her doing the same to him. Everything was so perfect, the forest breeze so crisp and lovely, a far cry from the overheated District heat, a pleasant silence hanging between them. 

"Will they miss you yet?" Lucy Gray asked. "Not until dinner," Coryo assured her. "What about you?" “Only one up when I left was Tam Amber. I told him I was going to find out about a goat. We’ve been talking about building a herd. Sell the milk as a sideline. I’ve probably got a few more hours before they start looking. Might be night before they think about the hanging tree and find the wagon. They’ll put it together.” The dream fast-forwarded to Coryo's discovery of the guns. Coryo holding Lucy Gray's hand with both of his own, pleading with her. "Lucy Gray, with these guns gone, I can return to the Capitol! I can go back to my old life! I have an officer's position waiting for me." Lucy Gray ripped her hand away from his own. "And you would leave me now? To...what? Get your shiny new badge?"

Coriolanus turned pleading eyes to her. "I love you, I swear! But I can't live in this world with no rules, no order, surviving off of rats!"

Lucy Gray tossed her hair back. "Your need for control," she whispered, "will be your downfall."

No no no! he screamed at his dream. Change that! 

His mind rewinded a few seconds. "I love you, I swear! But I can't live in this world with no rules, no order, surviving off of rats!"

Lucy Gray grabbed his shoulders. "I understand, Coryo. And wherever you go, I go with you! Once you become a man of influence, we can work to change the system for the better. Together. Bring freedom to all."

Coriolanus puffed up his chest, beaming. "Yes. But what about Mayor Lipp?"

Lucy Gray raised a brow. "Why, the forest isn't the only place full of rats."

Coriolanus blinked. "You don't mean to ask me to poison the mayor?"

Lucy Gray shrugged. "Do you want me to be able to come with you or not?"

Well, there was no need to answer that. Of course he wanted her to come with him. "It will probably be easier than surviving in the forest, anyhow."

"This will also be for our survival. You know that, don't you, Coryo?" Lucy Gray asked. Coriolanus nodded. "Of course. We're both Victors. Killing to survive is not new to us." Coriolanus thought for a moment. He had that flight today. They had a few hours to kill Mayor

The dream fast-forwarded to Lucy Gray and Coryo standing before Mayor Lipp's dying body, his pathetic faded grey suit looking even worse as the life slowly ebbed out of him.

"They'll-have-your-head-for-this," he gasped, one pale hand reaching out, as if he could harm anyone in the state he was in. Coriolanus only smiled. "How will they prove it? By the time they discover you, we'll be long gone. How will they ever find out it's us?" Lucy Gray blew him a kiss, and together the two of them snuck out the back door, elation in their hearts. 

"She's with me," Coriolanus said, his voice radiating with authority to the attendant waiting by the hovercraft. "But sir, we have no room for her here," the woman said. Her lips were painted purple, and her auburn hair was smoothed back in a low ponytail at the base of her head. "That won't be a problem," Lucy Gray said sweetly, adding a titter to the end of her sentence. "You see, Coryo and I are a matching set; we belong on the same seat."

Indeed, Lucy Gray sat on Coriolanus's lap the entire time, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist as they periodically began kissing each other. People stopped what they were doing to stare at them. Let them stare. Let them see that Lucy Gray belonged to him.

He woke up then, half-expecting Lucy Gray to be lying in bed beside him, but found his sheets cold and empty, and reality came crashing down on him like a boatload of bricks. He sprinted into the shower of this pathetic little place Tigris and Grandma'am were now living in after they had lost their house, taking heaving breaths as his sobs came heavily, his eyes so blurred with tears that he could not see half a foot in front of him. Lucy Gray. Sejanus. Lucy Gray. Sejanus. Lucy Gray. Sejanus. Lucy Gray. Sejanus. 

He tried to throw up, but there was no food to throw up. 

Lucy Gray, my love, where art thou gone, leaving me desolate?

He stayed in that shower for ages, hoping he would drown. Unfortunately, he did not. He dried himself off with the cheap towels that made his skin chafe, wondering if he would have to live in this pathetic world without his Lucy Gray in this pathetic house for the next four years. He walked out of the room, and he ran into Pluribus Bell. His long beard wiggled as he spoke to Coriolanus. "There's someone here to see you, Coriolanus." Nonplussed, Coriolanus walked towards the rackety wood door. 

Strabo Plinth was the last person he'd expected to see standing there. "Coriolanus." Coriolanus almost raised his hand to salute, an instinct drilled into him during his Peacekeeper days. "Mr. Plinth."

His salt and pepper hair was perfectly gelled to one corner of his forehead, his black eyes appearing to be grilling him. His jaw had the slightest bit of stubble which made him look all the more severe. His loud violet suit was immaculate as usual. However, Coriolanus could've sworn there was something sad in his expression, as though he were mourning.

Sejanus, Coriolanus scolded himself. He's mourning his son, idiot.

Guilt was a slick, oily feeling in his gut. It suddenly became an effort to meet Mr. Plinth's eyes. Had Dr. Gaul told Strabo how Coriolanus had caused his death? Fear turned Coriolanus's body to lead.

"As you know, my son Sejanus, is dead," he said. No mincing words with this man. His voice shook on the last word, and Coriolanus held back tears of his own before he realized tears would make him look a lot more sympathetic before Strabo, and he let them out. sniffing and wiping the corner of his eye. "Yes," Coriolanus murmured.

Strabo took a deep breath, as though trying his hardest not to cry. "The house feels so empty without him. I know he was a little shy and silly, but...he was our boy. He had a good heart. I can't believe he's gone. I warned him. Goddamnit, I warned him, the Capitol was not for the kindhearted." The tears came, and Strabo wiped them away angrily. "Never mind. The reason that I'm here is as follows: my wife needs something to live for. So do I, for that matter. You’ve lost your parents. We’ve lost our son. I was thinking perhaps we could work something out."

Coriolanus blinked. The very scenario he had envisioned weeks ago was occurring now: Strabo offering to bail them out of their situation. "Well..." Coriolanus admitted, "we've lost everything. We have no house, no way to pay for my University education."

"Consider it done. I shall buy the entire apartment complex. You will get your home back, and my wife and I will move into the apartment beneath yours. We will be selling our own house. Too many memories there."

Your fault. Your fault your fault your fault-

"I am humbled before you, sir. I have Tigris and Grandma'am, but I must admit, I have missed the love of a mother," Coriolanus said. He clasped his hands behind him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

"It is settled then." Strabo's eyes softened, and he clasped Coriolanus's shoulder. "Thank you, for being a good friend to my son. You were one of the few bright spots in his life." Coriolanus couldn't even feel good about the money he had just gained, because all he could think of was what it had taken to gain it all.

Blood money. 

You are nothing but a monster, Coriolanus Snow.

[password-door-lock]

Unknown doesn’t really care about you. That’s been his conviction from day one, the truth to which he has clung with a vice grip throughout his acquaintance with you. He doesn’t care about you, he doesn’t care what’s convenient for you, and he doesn’t care about your feelings. He certainly doesn't care that you've been restless all night, waking up at odd intervals to sniffle for a bit before returning to your tossing and turning. He supposes that he does care if you’re able to help him fulfill his plan, though you’ve already thrown a wrench into it once by refusing to enter the code correctly at the apartment. He had no choice but to bring you back to Magenta, which may have been a bad call, but Unknown has about as much patience for surprises as he does for liars— which is to say, none at all— and your inability to listen forced him to make a snap decision on the spot. 

Presently, he's working at his desk, and you’re asleep on the couch, stirring and whining occasionally in what he imagines is discomfort. He wonders if you're experiencing something akin to the nightmares that plague him when he forces himself to rest, but then goes out of his way to dissolve the thought. Unknown doesn’t like to linger on his own pain. Why would he? So instead, he watches you sleep fitfully. After a few minutes of this, you blink awake. You sit up, looking around frantically. “Did you have a bad dream, prince(ss)?” Unknown asks, amused despite himself. You look adorable even in the faint light provided by his monitor, with your eyes wide and your head swiveling comically from side to side.

“No; don't worry,” you reply, “But my throat hurts, and my nose is all stuffed up— I think I might have a cold or something.” That much is obvious from your voice. 

Even so, Unknown’s fingers pause where they are above his keyboard. In fact, his whole body freezes. He’s stiff, unsure of how to handle the situation. If you have a sore throat and a stuffy nose, then you’re almost definitely sick— Unknown doesn’t have time to process all the reasons why he doesn’t like that thought. He only allows himself to acknowledge the fact that it irks him. “You’re sick,” he informs you, trying not to sound nervous. It’s important that he maintains a calm tone in order to maintain his iron grip on the situation. 

You’re already starting to tremble so obviously that he can see it even from his vantage point across the room. What reason do you have to be trembling? Unknown wonders. He’s the one who might get sick as a result of your negligence— he’s been in here with you all night, breathing your air and touching things you’ve also touched. If you’re sick, then there’s a pretty solid chance that Unknown is going to be next— he growls, annoyed at the thought of losing progress with his work for something so pointless. If his head gets foggy with fever, he’ll work a lot slower, which will doubtlessly cause problems for him in his quest for revenge. It pisses him off that this is something over which he has no jurisdiction— you might be at the mercy of his whims, but your illness is not. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. He should feel good that you’re apologizing, taking responsibility; he should enjoy the knowledge that you’re shaking in fear of how he might respond to this latest inconvenience. Yes, you should be sorry, shouldn’t you? You’re the one who brought some bug into the intelligence room, after all. 

But, inexplicably, Unknown does not feel comforted at all. “Don’t waste time apologizing,” he snaps. It’s always grounding to snap at people— it reminds him that he’s in control. Of course, you do that well enough on your own; you make your devotion obvious with every thoughtful gesture and every offhand word. It’s almost cute, the way you bend over backwards for him. 

Before he can tell you what you should start doing in lieu of telling him you’re sorry, you lapse into a prolonged period of violent coughing. “Sorry,” you choke out again once you’re finished. 

“Okay.” Unknown doesn’t even bother telling you not to apologize again. He’s annoyed that you’re sick, but he’s even more annoyed that he has to stop working to help you deal with your emotions. Can’t you handle your feelings on your own? Why would you rely on him for something like this? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just sulk in the corner without making a peep? But Unknown concedes that in all other cases, your reliance on him is a good thing. It makes you easier to control. 

Maybe this is a necessary sacrifice, he decides, and that’s what’s compelling him to continue this discussion. If he handles your feelings neatly, you might follow his instructions better, and he can spend his time on more important things. If he lets you stew with your strange guilt, especially when you’re trying to recover from a cold, then he’s going to have to deal with it later, when your emotional and physical condition are both significantly worse. Unknown isn’t interested in that. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” You ask, as if he hasn’t already made it clear to you that there isn’t.

Unknown is beside himself. What are you talking about? How could you possibly help him? You can barely carry on a conversation without losing your train of thought in a fit of coughing. “No. You don’t need to worry about that,” he tells you flatly. “Just keep quiet and rest so you get better fast, hm? I don’t want to deal with a sick assistant any longer than I have to.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Though he doesn’t understand why, Unknown is suddenly very glad that you’re feeling well enough to pester him. “There’s gotta be something I can do.” 

“I just told you what to do,” he reminds you, “So maybe you should start listening before you regret it.” 

“You’re threatening me? Even though I’m sick?” As if your feigned shock wasn’t annoying enough, you take the liberty of pretending to cough into your hand. Of course, this fake cough soon turns into a fit of very genuine coughing— good. It serves you right for trying to mock him. 

“Mhm,” Unknown hums, "Now, why don’t you try to follow directions instead of talking nonsense?” It puts him at ease to play this game with you. He doesn’t have to contend with any emotions he may harbor about the situation if you’re up for a verbal sparring match, and he’d never pass up an opportunity to assert his control. 

“Whatever you say.” You salute him, then sneeze obnoxiously into your elbow. For how long, exactly, is he going to have to deal with this behavior? “What did you want me to do, again?” 

“Now you’re just looking for attention,” Unknown decides. He has no idea why you’re so committed to the idea of working when he’s giving you not simply the license, but the direct order to rest, though it doesn’t really matter. He’s already told you several times that he doesn’t need you to work on anything, and besides, he wants you to feel better. But that makes sense— of course he would want his assistant to be functioning normally. His motivations are entirely justifiable. “Go lay back down and don’t bother me again.”

“Okay, okay,” you hold up your hands and gaze at him with adoration. “I get it! You don’t want me to work! Who are you and what have you done with Unknown?” He just glares at you, waiting for you to finish giggling at your own joke. “But, sure, whatever, I’ll try to rest. Feel free to wake me up if you need something, though. I want to help you if I can.” 

Unknown rolls his eyes. He’s glad to have such a loyal assistant, but you seriously need to stop challenging his authority like this. “I’m not going to tell you again,” he warns. 

“I said okay! Look, here I am resting.” After another prolonged coughing fit, you make a big show of laying back down on the couch and closing your eyes— and if Unknown finds himself smirking a little at your fake snoring noises, that’s none of anybody’s business.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Careful [12]

Honestly, Dark Autumn Complex is doing it right. They aren't in a giant hotel/casino mashup where all of the big guys perform, they're in a little bar down the strip. Still enough room for tons of people, but it isn't crawling with bodies like bugs under my fucking skin.

And it's a really nice bar, by the way. Mostly an indoor venue, but they have a little patio right in front of New York, New York-- and also some really tasty looking chicken wings.

My only complaint is the copious and nauseating amount of liquid covering the floor. Yea, people are living it up in here, but I think they're living a little too hard. This is definitely a toxic mixture of vomit, alcohol, and urine-- but I'm not the one who's going to actually confirm that.

Todd, on the other hand...

"For fuck's sake," the man hisses, taking knee-to-chest steps through the nasty flood on the floor. "I shouldn't have come. It'll take me weeks to get this stench off of my shoes."

"Oh, come on Toddler. It's not that bad," Larry harumphs, elbowing an unamused Todd in the ribs.

I snort, shaking my foot out after passing through a particularly goopy substance. Is this even real? It has to be a fever dream. "Actually, it is that bad, Lar. Even The Hangover wasn't this over the top."

Larry rolls his eyes next to me. "You're just a bunch of weaklings. Right, Sal?"

My head drops down at the sound of his name. I'll only add to the mess on the floor if I so much as look at him. He really hurt my feelings, and it's embarrassing to admit that.

The man doesn't say a word, but then again, none of us should have expected him to. He's a little... no. I shouldn't be angry, I should be upset. He hurt my damn feelings. More importantly, I should be focused on why his words hurt so damn bad. It's not like I expect something better from him.

Why do I have expectations at all in regards to him?

Not to mention, there's the daunting fact that he's finally texted Lexi. I don't know what to do-- I don't even think I want to reply. But unfortunately, there's a part of me that would feel horrible for making Lexi ghost him when he clearly cares about her to some degree.

Too many questions, not enough answers, and way too many worries. I'll file this all away in my cabinet titled Later.

Our group continues to push through the crowd. We're about an hour early, as per request on behalf of Ash who's hoping to find hot girls. Can't hate on the game, I just hope I have a bed to sleep in tonight.

I watch my every move, all three boys trailing behind me as I walk along the sopping ground. The LED's flash across feet and skin, and more importantly, the slick floor makes the light reflections seem even brighter. That means I'm blinded the entire way with only a few moments of relief and clarity.

There's one step I take in which my foot catches against something, so I desperately grab onto Ash's forearm to keep myself steady. She doesn't even look back, just lets me hold onto her-- I guess she's used to having me around already. That's cute. So, I balance myself then let go, traipsing through this toxic quarry of sorts.

Something I've never learned, no matter how many times it's made itself known to me, is to never trust myself. Or my feet, for that matter. If there's an open opportunity for me to be clumsy, my body will absolutely break in two to ruin my day and everyone else's.

Our prime example tonight is when I slip on a meticulous placed slice of banana bread that has had a wonderful time soaking up all the liquids on the floor.

The entire ordeal mimics the classic banana peel take-down. I mean-- really. My hands fly up, my legs about damn near follow me as I start flying toward the ground, unable to catch myself with Ash's arm this time.

I'm bracing for impact and a nasty swim in the thick contents below when hands slide under my arms, catching me right before I can hit the ground.

There's an awkward beat of silence where I'm hanging from hands with my ass hovering over the ground. I take a breath and glance up. Another beat of silence when I see that it's Sally who caught me.

He's leaned over me, watching me with agitated, narrowed eyes and his fluffy hair falling around his face. His fingers are digging into the flesh of my arms, his rings cold against my skin. The way heat envelops me in a millisecond both pisses me off and has me fighting for a way to get out of this situation.

I huff out a frustrated breath, blowing my hair away from my mouth and slapping a glare onto my face that I know he'll be able to see in my gaze. And then those infuriatingly pretty eyes of his roll before he puts some weight onto my arms, helping me back into a standing position.

I bite the inside of my cheek when he pulls his hands away from me quickly. I hate how much I enjoy his touch, but I blame the accent. I blame the style. I blame the allure. I blame it all. Even the asshole personality.

And I sure as hell am not about to thank him after what he said to me earlier. So I dust off my skirt, making sure it didn't manage to touch the... secretions... on the floor. But as I'm double-checking myself, he grumbles out, "Careful."

My head snaps to the side to look at him so aggressively that I'm worried I've snapped my neck for a moment. Did he really just say that? Have the gates of hell opened up on earth? Is this the end of times? Because there's no fucking way he just told me to be careful.

"Damn, Vi," Larry breaks my stare-off with Sal for a moment as he walks around us. He claps a hand on my shoulder, a gorgeous grin plastered on his lips that distracts me for just a second, only a second. "Falling for me already?"

"If that was me falling for you, then this has to be a Stockholm Syndrome thing because there's no way I wasn't going to slip on this floor," I reply, cocking an eyebrow when his smile falls into a pout.

"Awe, c'mon. You wouldn't be complaining so much if you actually fell," he notes, tilting his head inquisitively. "In fact, you'd be doing a backstroke right about now had you hit the floor."

No wonder he and Sal are best friends.

Todd walks past Larry, cackling the entire way as he passes us up. And Larry knows he's won, so he raises his eyebrows, a sly smirk pulling his lips as he turns away to catch up with Ash.

And then it's just me and Sal again.

I watch him closely, waiting for him to say something since he's looking at me like he has words just on the tip of his tongue. And then I hear a syllable leave his undoubtedly pretty mouth and immediately cut him off with, "If you're going to be a cunt, you might as well shut the fuck up right now because I'm absolutely in the mood to punch you in the middle of all these people."

He looks confused, shocked for a moment. I can even see his eyebrows because they're scrunched together, but then he seems to understand my words and proceeds to roll his eyes so hard that it literally looks painful.

"Larry gave you enough hell," he says shortly, adjusting his stance as he regards me with those forever irritated blue eyes. "I was going to say, do you remember what I said to you? That shitty stuff?"

Is this some kind of trick question? Because who could possibly forget the shit he said to me? But then again-- he just acknowledged that it was shitty... what kind of Sal Fisher am I witnessing right now?

I watch him with wary eyes, too afraid to look into the angry facade of his because just beneath that facade is an actual drop of vulnerability. And I don't think I like seeing him this open and fucking... fucking understanding.

"I guess that's a stupid question," he mumbles to himself, never breaking our eye contact. But then he sighs and speaks yet again. "I saved you. That's all the apology you're going to get."

A weight so heavy lifts from my soul and I feel like I'll start floating any second now. The barbed wire around my heart loosens, the boulders bouncing around my brain shrink. And I'm left with feelings I don't want to have, but feelings that are welcomed either way. I feel like, for the first time, Sal and I are on even ground. We both know something was wrong, and he even apologized, even if that apology was saving me from social suicide and reminding me to be careful. He wanted to make up for the way he broke me earlier. And he did.

And I also want to say that finding common ground with Sal is fucking weird.

"This is weird," I voice, suddenly tensing up over the awkwardness floating around us.

Sally's eyes close with relief and he seems to relax just a bit. "It is fucking weird. So can we forget about today and just continue the way we have been?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. That's even weirder," I sputter out, taking a quick step away from him as my heart flutters over his words. I can't believe his willingness to let bygones be bygones is so fucking hot to me. Maybe it's because this is something I didn't think I'd ever get from him. I'm not sure. "Yes, fuck, anything to stop you from being sentimental. Please."

"Cool. Glad we agree," he grumbles, looking up and past me. Then he actually starts walking, intent on passing me.

But my eyes bug out of my head. "No, not cool! I don't fucking want us to agree-- just shut up. Stop fucking talking," I grit out as he passes me, turning to walk behind him.

Sal's head turns, eyes acknowledging me with disbelief. His voice is higher-pitched and filled with aggravation as he says, "How are you going to tell me to shut up when you fucking never do it yourself? Hypocrisy isn't cute."

"Oh, yea?" I retort, folding my arms against my chest as heat wells in my chest. He really is always fighting me, and he should be thanking me right now. I was just trying to end whatever weird shit was just happening. "Don't talk about hypocrisy Mr. I-Want-To-Fuck-You-But-I-Don't. Go try that one on for size."

"Didn't I just tell you to forget that?" he says exasperatedly. "Do you deliberately ignore every bit of sound advice you get?"

"If it's coming from you-- hell yea, I ignore it," I snort, stopping my walking when we finally catch up with Ash, Larry, and Todd who are standing in front of the stage.

Sal turns to me with fury burning in his eyes and I relish in it. This is normal. This is back to what we were doing just earlier today. No apologies, no forgiveness-- just going back to what we know.

"Wow, yea." He says, showing off dramatic jazz hands. "That sounds about right. Dumb bitch can't do anything but tear herself apart."

"Boo hoo," I answer, placing my hands on my hips. This is a good one. No one can hear us so we can just wail away on each other-- keeps me busy. It's pretty fun too. Exercises my funny bone. "Sounds like something the selfish prick would say. Assume that everyone's falling apart while he's so put-together, right?"

"You--" Sal starts, voice piercing straight through me with its sheer ferocity, but he cuts himself off with a frustrated groan, eyeing me with a sickening glare the entire time. "What fucking ever. Just shut up."

"Happy to know I won," I chirp, smiling sweetly at him.

I'm sure he's about to burst and reign hell on me, but a security guard approaches us. A flash of fear slams into me and I shrink in on myself when I realize this guy has probably been watching Sally and I yell back and forth at each other for a few minutes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Sally dip his head down too, a sign of nerves and shame. Hm. Serves him right.

The security guard, a huge and burly man that somehow stands a bit taller than Larry stops in front of Sally and I. He has an impenetrable glare in his eyes and a face so emotionless that it sickens me just thinking about how strong he must be.

And worse, he isn't looking at me. His grey eyes are dead set on Sally beside me.

I gulp, a chill running down my spine as the guard crosses his arms over his chest. Sal looks like he's about to literally start shaking and, hell, I don't blame him. I'm not far off from doing the same.

Sally's the type to put up a fight, clearly, but sometimes you have to know when fighting is no use. When fighting means you'll get thrown into a hospital. This is that time and I've never viewed this asshole as intellectual before, but I think he's making a good call by holding off right now.

Eyes still set on the bluenette, the security guard finally speaks in a deep, booming, authoritative voice. "I need you to come with me," he says to Sally and I feel like I'm going to shit myself.

Holy crap, I do not want to end my night on this type of scenario. With the fact that I got the notorious Sally Face arrested. I do not want that sitting on my conscience because the second this motherfucker gets out of jail, he's coming for me. Aw, fuck.

I watch the security guard with a gaping mouth, noting the way Sally's eyes widen. They're so big right now that I'm a tad worried they'll roll right out of his face, but I focus on getting out of dodge first.

"Um," I mumble shakily, shrinking back a bit more. I'm so going to throw up once this is done. "Is everything okay, sir? Are we in trouble?"

My main goal is to not die right now. And if the man who hates me most gets arrested or something tonight, I won't have a head in a few days. There's no doubt.

Okay, sure, I'm probably really overreacting but anyone would be in this situation. I mean this guy is huge and so, so intimidating.

The security guard looks down at me with aggravation and confusion flashing across his face. He raises a blonde eyebrow that could cut air and suddenly I think that vomit sesh I was saving for later is going to happen now.

"Who the hell are you?" He asks, looking down at me and squinting his eyes. "I'm here to grab the blue-haired kid in the mask and the really tall, super emo, questionably buff guy."

I blanch for a moment, staring up at the behemoth security guard that I just embarrassed myself in front of. What did Sal and Larry do? Are they both about to get arrested?

I glance over at Sally and he matches my gaze, shrugging subtly. His blue eyes are filled with wariness and concern as he turns his eyes back to the man.

And then the security guard looks like he's about to drop kick both of us, if his horrifyingly intimidating glare is a hint at anything, that is.

"Come on," he growls out, making me flinch in fear. "North wants you," he points to Sal, "and the really massive emo guy with the Dave Grohl hair. Can you hurry the fuck up?"

My eyes widen. Oh, for fuck's sake. Dark Autumn Complex's lead singer asked for Larry and Sal, which, hold on, how do they know that the boys are here? Is that even possible?

My eyes narrow as quickly as they previously widened. Something's weird about this.

I watch Sally from the corner of my eye, noting the relief that swamps his pretty azure irises. He puts a hand to his chest and breathes deep, throwing his head over his shoulder to call for Larry who turns to us with a raised eyebrow.

Larry sees the giant security guard and stiffens up like a Tom and Jerry character come to life. It's comical up until the guy gets into position to bolt out of dodge.

He crouches down and sets his right foot forward, ready to race through the crowd to escape the security guard. But right now, when North is asking for him, and with this freaky guy retrieving him-- that doesn't need to happen.

Sally groans and motions Larry over, shaking his head at the taller guy. "It's just North," Sal reassures. "He wants us for something. I don't know what."

Larry doesn't look convinced, but he walks over to our small group. "So he fucking sent the 'roid mall cop after us? Does he not know me and my history with the justice system?" He scoffs and glances over at the security guard who looks like he's barely holding back some unyielding rage. "I'm with Vi on this one man, I'm totally an anarchist."

"Larry," I hiss, heat enveloping my cheeks as a very real and very concerning tsunami of genuine fear for my life slams into me. Why would he say that in front of the justice system he supposedly has a bad relationship with? And why the hell did he have to rope me into it? "Shut the fuck up. Just go with the 'roid--" I cough, eyes close to flying out of my head because of my mistake. It's not my fault that the nickname stuck, but it's definitely damning. Fucking hell, Larry. "Just go with this nice security guard." I smile, wide and fake as fuck as I look over at said security guard who's hands are fisted at his sides. I grimace and glance back at Sal and Larry who look like deer caught in headlights. "Now," I grit out.

Both boys are clambering after the security guard in seconds. Larry may be a heathen and Sal may be clueless, but at least they were smart enough to read that play.

I heave a sigh of relief as both boys disappear into the crowd. I've never had trouble with police before in my life and I'd really like to keep it that way.

But as I walk forward to meet Ash and Todd, I think of a couple things.

My friends are standing right behind the barrier that separates us from the stage. We're as close as we can possibly get, and even that is way too close for me. Meeting my idols is something I sincerely don't want to do because I'll probably pass out. The thought of embarrassing myself in front of someone so amazing feels like a death sentence, so I'd like to avoid making eye contact with North, South, and/or East.

Maybe I haven't mentioned it before, but all three members of Dark Autumn Complex choose to go by one of the four main cardinal directions on a compass. The only member, or direction, they're missing is West. Whether they're looking for someone to fill the spot or just didn't want a member to be compared to Jade West, I'll never know. But why wouldn't someone want to be compared to Jade West?

To each their own, I suppose.

The point is that I don't know the reasoning behind their names, but the way it goes is: North is the singer and guitarist, East is the bassist, and South is the drummer. That's how it's always been.

I step up next to Ash, wrapping my fingers around the cool, metal barricade. Multiple neon colors flash around us as the crowd grows thicker. And as a result, the little swimming pool at our feet grows thicker too. You know, maybe I wouldn't let Ash buy me new clothes... but I think I'll let her buy me some new shoes after this fiasco. This is quite unique.

Our concert grows closer with each passing second. Ash and Todd meet some fans in the crowd while I hide away, trying to pretend I'm some random woman in a mask. Sally and Larry never return. I'm assuming they'll stay backstage... but then again, I still have some questions I'd like to have answered. And there are quite a few...

Do North, Larry, and Sally know each other? I mean, for the guys to be called backstage, they must be acquainted somehow. But since they are, why hadn't they mentioned that they knew Dark Autumn Complex personally?

Larry said that he could get me backstage, but I thought that was a farce. I still fucking think it's a farce. My spidey senses are tingling and there's something that just doesn't add up.

For example, again, no one mentioned that anyone was friends with Dark Autumn Complex. Another eyebrow raising detail is that Ash and Todd didn't get asked backstage. Why? Do Ash and Todd know about the connection too? Maybe they don't if they haven't brought up the friendship either...

I tap on Ash's shoulder once I notice a group of girls walk away from her. My gorgeous, jade-eyed and strawberry-lipped friend turns to me with a stunning smile gracing her angelic face. She looks down at me, tilting her head in question as she waits patiently for me to say something.

But I narrow my eyes. Everyone's a suspect in my non-murder mystery right now.

"Are Sal, Larry, and DAC friends or something?" I ask, pressing my lips into a thin line.

Ash's brows furrow and that's my first red flag. Why the hell is she doing that?

But then she says, "Didn't they tell you about that? We're all friends with Dark Autumn Complex." Her voice is just as sweet and tender as always. In fact, she seems a little shocked at the fact that I'm new to this information.

"Yea, no. I just thought you were all fans," I chew on my bottom lip, contemplating the friendship confirmation. "Well, why didn't North invite you and Todd backstage?"

Ash shrugs, not too worried about that apparently. "North and Sal are buddies because they both play guitar. North's been waiting for, like, ages to see what talent Sal has. And Larry has some history in music. That's why Sal brings him along for practice-- Lar has really good ears and can tune a guitar to fucking perfection. With all of those similar interests, North, Sal, and Larry naturally got closer than Todd or I were able to." A smile pulls at her lips again. "I'm good friends with East, but I have time to meet him later."

I raise my eyebrows at that last bit of information. After all, Ash answered all my questions so I feel much better. All the gaps are filled in and there are no more red flags.

"Oh?" I say suggestively. "And how close are you, exactly, to East?" My lips stretch into a little smirk when Ash rolls her eyes at my teasing. She's just so easy to offend.

"Not like that, you little slut," she jokes, winking at me.

"Oooouuu," I hum, leaning closer to her with a little grin. "Call me that again."

Poor Ash groans, rolling her eyes yet again as she throws an arm around my shoulders. "Shut up. I can't believe you're so into degradation." Her voice falls into a mumble as I look up at her with a smile, but her next words nearly make me choke. "Sal would love you." She shakes her head and looks down at me. I struggle to slap a stoic expression onto my face after hearing that. I have way too much information. I was hoping my new knowledge would stop after finding out that DAC and The Faces are buddies.

But, then again, my entire body warms at her words. While it's shocking information, it's also very interesting information.

"Anyway," Ash cuts off my thoughts. "It really isn't like that. I am so not into guys. Sometimes I find that one in a million, but, fuck, it's hard. I much prefer women."

I shrug, still reeling over whatever it was she let slip about Sally. I might as well just throw "Sally Face (Sal Fisher) has a degrading kink" into a file cabinet to save for later when I'll actually have the time and desire to mull over that.

"I don't blame you," I decide to tell Ash. "Men really suck sometimes."

Ash scoffs like she's just had an epiphany. "They really fucking do!" she exclaims, throwing her free arm up into the air.

I'm about to yap about the topic a bit more to distract myself when the neon lights over the crowd suddenly shut off. They're all pointing to the stage in front of us now.

When the hell did Dark Autumn Complex walk out here?

All three characters are set up on their respective sides of the stage and I suddenly feel like I'm going to throw up again. They all look so immaculate, so pretty, so mysterious.

My stomach turns with a mix of nervousness and excitement. A group I genuinely look up to is standing less than six feet away from me, doing some last minute checks on their equipment. My head feels fuzzy and I almost keel over with the way my heart repeatedly slams into my ribcage. I've never had this opportunity before in my life. I can't help but imagine if this is how I would have felt meeting The Faces for the first time if we were never friends.

I'm about to take in and observe their dark clothing when a screen lights up behind the band with HELLO written in big bold letters. This is interesting.

All I'm able to see before turning my attention to the screen is the striking, electric blue of North's guitar as the light catches it. Holy hell, that's a nice instrument.

North turns their body to the side, holding out a hand that gestures up to the screen. They glance at the crowd over their shoulder, then look back to the screen.

A booming voice is heard over a speaker and I almost shit myself for a second, the sound so loud that I have to cover my ears. But then, Ash, Todd, and I are all cackling. No fucking way.

"Hello Dark Autumn Complex bitches and cunts! My name is Larry Johnson. You may know me from the online streaming group called The Faces," Larry's stupid ass voice is full of confidence and pride as he snarkily opens up for the band. Wow. I don't even blame DAC for having him do this. If anyone could engage a crowd, it's definitely Larry. "If you'll all kindly turn your attention to the screen, I'm going to walk you through some rules that Dark Autumn Complex has set up for this little concert of theirs." Suddenly, Larry groans. "Ugh. Rules. Fucking boring, right?"

North drops their hand and shakes their head as the crowd starts to giggle. Like I said, Larry is perfect for this kind of job.

The screen changes from HELLO to some other stuff that Larry very sweetly explains with his adorably snarky gamer voice.

"So, first up, if you couldn't tell, no one from the band is going to talk. They want to keep their identity completely concealed, so as a precaution, you will only be hearing their instruments and singing." Larry's a bit more serious. I find myself admiring the way he knows when to be more tactful regarding sensitive or important information. It comes off as very genuine and so sweet. He cares. "They also want to say that they're extremely appreciative of your attendance tonight."

The crowd cheers and I do too. All of the screaming and clapping is infectious, even more so when North bows to the crowd, followed by East who waves at everyone, and finally South who puts a drum stick in the air.

"Next and finally," Larry begins again. "As you can see, there is a microphone in front of North who also, obviously has a mask on." The high self-esteem is reflected in Larry's voice again, an amused lilt in his tone. "The microphone is a fucking prop, you haters. Let that man pretend he's singing into it and not the little tiny microphone taped to his face under the mask, okay? He's a sensitive little guy and absolutely needed to have the prop or else it was going to, in his words, feel weird."

Okay, so North is a guy. Good to know.

North visibly cringes, throwing his arms up in exasperation as he turns back to the screen. I just know he's cursing Larry in his mind. No doubt about it.

Larry cackles a bit scarily before ending his opening segment. "But without further ado, I present to you, Dark Autumn Complex in all their might and glory."

The packed crowd around us cheers. Ash throws an arm around my shoulder and screams at the top of her lungs, so I join her. My eyes never stray from the stage filled with exceptionally hot looking musicians who are looking between each other as the audience quiets down.

They're all in black-- no other colors. Straight black clothing, which makes them all the more appealing. From what I can tell, based on where I am, East, the bassist, is exceptionally tall. But North and South are about average height. Other than that, there's nothing else of note other than their insanely elaborate masks.

It's clear that they have some other kind mask on to hide their hair-- probably black ski masks-- and then another mask on top of that. I can't see them all that well, but even from here the colors are gorgeous and it just feels like they must have been expensive.

North's mask is red, gold, and black. I can see some kind of drawing on part of it, but can't tell what it is exactly. The same goes for the other members-- East who's wearing a primarily black mask with white and gold, and finally South who's sporting dark blue with white and gold. Other than their colors, all three masks match.

We love hot people.

I feel like I'm going to happy vomit everywhere when East starts up a song with this sick riff on his bass. Even better, it's my favorite song by them. The same song, in fact, that made me so upset the other day. Wherein Christine Daaé Became Her Own Phantom.

I sing the lyrics as the rest of the band kicks up the song. It's crazy to see them live and realize they sound just as good in real life as they do in a recording. That's such a flex, considering so many people sound much different when they get out on stage. For their very first concert, they don't seem nervous about it at all and that helps the crowd become more immersed, makes the music so much better.

DAC goes through a few of their songs, some older and some newer, like the song they released about a month ago. I'm all jitters and a fluttering heart during the entire set, finding that my eyes never stray from the amazing band rocking about on the small stage.

They've gone through most of their songs after about forty-five minutes and at this point, I'm assuming that our concert is over. I'm already expecting the worst case of post-concert depression to hit me in a few seconds here, especially when the screen pops on behind all three band members again. And, naturally, this is followed by Larry's voice.

"Alrighty, sluts and whores," he starts happily. I roll my eyes but let a smile envelop my face anyway. "You're in luck tonight. While DAC may be ending this amazing fucking concert soon, they've decided to play a brand new song for you. From what I've heard, they've been working very hard on it. So be grateful, for fuck's sake!"

A new song? Really? Here, out in the middle of Vegas?

"The name of this new song, which also happens to be my favorite so far, is 'Actually Carrie Underwood Doesn't Like Me," Larry giggles a bit over the name. "Another insane title. I'm fucking pumped."

I look over at Ash who looks like she's about to have a brain orgasm. Then I look at Todd who probably couldn't care less, but he has a little light in his dark gaze that says he might be really excited about this.

I glance back up to the stage as my feet go numb. It might be excitement, or it might be from having to slosh around in liquid for nearly two hours. Maybe it could be both. But the point is that a shiver runs through my entire body, electrifying me in a way that's so addicting that I wish there were a way for me to make this concert last forever. It's going to hurt so bad to walk out of here and go back to the hotel later.

My attention and gaze are solely focused on North as he starts the song with a serene little melody on that gorgeous, electric blue guitar.

And almost immediately, before I can even take a moment to appreciate the short guitar solo, everything turns metal as fuck. And I'd go as far as to say that this is the hardest song the band has ever made. Yea, they're a rock band and they put out some really good and heavy hitting stuff, but this is different. This is angry.

"Look at what I've become-- My mother's careful knitting is undone. Sixty stitches and a price never paid, Might as well have sliced me with a blade.

All gaping wounds and pity, Disgust has never looked so pretty. My own disgust or theirs; Or is it just hospital rooms and wheelchairs?"

I officially think I'm with Ash on the mind-jizz bit. This is good. It's deep, it's angry, it's got that hidden meaning that no one will ever understand. It's something that only the writer will only be able to fully comprehend. Even if they would tell someone else what it was about, it'll never compare to everything that goes on inside their head when they think of this song.

"Self-inflicted cuts and scars, Just like the first which left me marred. So sick of the metallic taste Of the way I'm two-faced.

Bursting with hopes and regrets Falling through like fingers in fishnets. Regard myself as something to dispose of-- You think me a disgrace, don't you, my love?"

Leave it to DAC to fuck with my head again. As always.

I nearly crumble to the floor again-- this time with no one to catch me. The second North screams out the word 'fishnets' and grabs onto that prop microphone of his to get into the moment, I feel my heart skip a beat. My head is suddenly filled with memories of Sally weaving his fingers through my own fishnets just yesterday night. It feels silly to immediately remember that scene because of a song, but how couldn't I? The lyrics are literally the same as what happened to me.

And in the long run, that's the entire reason music exists. So it can resonate within those who find their own meaning in the lyrics. So others can create something from a pre-determined scenario. Make it their own.

But hell, I really don't want to think about that asshole while I'm trying to enjoy this new, really amazing song that one of my favorite bands just dropped. Live and in person.

"There's a monster in your bed, In your head, It's me-- Too bad I'm not dead.

Shove my face in a pillow case And curse the human race. Why'd I have to suffer? Why the character development to make me tougher?"

Ash is gripping onto my wrist so tightly that my arm is starting to tingle. She's excited and so am I. What's there not to like about dark lyrics and angry riffs?

We all listen closely, literally everyone on the floor. East is standing in front of South and they watch each other, playing wonderfully and completely invested in the music they're making. Meanwhile, North walks languidly across the stage, ditching the prop microphone and singing into the one that actually works instead. It's a win-win-- he can still sing, but he can focus on playing his guitar rather than fucking around with something that doesn't even work.

I can't help but watch him, my gaze never falling away from North's every movement. His hands expertly playing his flashy guitar, his head tilted down to watch his finger movement, and his black dress shoes taking calculated steps. I've never seen a musician wear dress shoes in the middle of a concert before in my life, but I'm certainly not complaining.

Regardless, it's very interesting.

"Years of therapy couldn't fix me-- No llores por mi. Such a futile attempt at a kill, Was it really worth the thrill?"

No way did this suddenly hot individual just spit out Spanish in the middle of a song. Is he single? If so, I think I'd like to change that. Anyway--

"All I am is rage and revenge-- Every little bit of me is unhinged. I'd say there's nothing to fear, But I'm no Shakespeare.

There's a monster in your bed, In your head, Blood red, Filled with dread. It's me, And you'll wish I was dead."

No. Nope. Absolutely not. I don't have some stupid celebrity crush on a person I've never met because they're openly not shallow and just as torn apart as I am. Not at all. Not a chance.

But the way North shuts his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling as he sing into the microphone again does something to me. Makes a little corner of my brain light up. Sends shivers through my body. And I really don't like any of it, but what can I do? The heart wants what it wants. It's all shallow feelings anyway. For all I know, North could be the complete opposite of what I want in a person. Not to mention, he's already way out of my league.

"Some things cease, others never end, But my broken brain and diced up heart won't mend. You needn't expect much-- I'll never get too close to touch.

It's over now; Fatal words for your vow. So sick, I don't know how... Never anything more than thou."

I stare up at the stage with stars in my eyes, nearly jumping out of my skin when North makes eye contact with me for just a split second-- then he moves on and most likely makes eye contact with a ton of other fans too. It's nothing special. He's doing what all musicians do and looking out at his fans. Sudden eye contact is nothing rare. Just subtle.

The music calms down, just an eerily slow and melancholic mixture of notes that North and East meld together on their instruments. And then, the next lyrics are whispered. So soft, so terrifying, so angry-- but calm.

"There's a monster in my bed, In my head, Held together by a thread, A fucked path I tread, Memory of where I once bled. It's me. You better fucking hope I'm dead, Before I slaughter the monster I once fled."

I nearly yelp when the LEDs suddenly shut off, leaving everyone in a pitch black room where only the bartenders have lights. And with the sea of people around me, those distant lights are just a speck of dust in this abyss.

But then, music starts playing on the speakers again-- The Misfits, I think-- and the LEDs snap back on. But the entire band is off-stage. They're gone. Disappeared without a fucking trace.

I blink at the empty stage, noting the perturbed sounds of confusion flitting about me from other fans. It sucks that they left so quickly, but at the same time, this adds to the mysterious air that the band carries. I want so badly to find them hiding in the crowd. I want to sneak backstage and get into their room. I want to run off to the bathroom and hope that, by some ridiculous chance, I bump into one of the members.

And more than anything, I'd love to see North again.

I turn to talk to Ash, finding her pretty glossed lips set in a frown. Bet she'd be shocked if I kissed that frown off her right now.

"What's with the disappearing act?" I ask her, watching as she turns to me, that frown of hers morphing into a quizzical look.

"I actually don't know," she murmurs, looking over her shoulder to see Todd talking to someone, probably another fan. "But something about that giant hunk of man heading this way tells me that we might be able to find out," she continues, voice dropping to a seductive little whisper. I look over her shoulder with her, noting that the same intimidating security guard that scooped up Sal and Larry earlier is headed this way.

I grimace. Okay, so yea, I wanted to disappear and find Dark Autumn Complex two seconds ago but if this guy brings us backstage to actually meet them, I'm going to spontaneously combust. I can't meet a famous person. I can't meet someone I look up to like this. I'm going to make a damn fool of myself.

The security guard reaches Ash, Todd, and I. And he sighs. Fucking sighs upon making eye contact with me.

"Do I have to explain why I'm here again?" he asks, nodding over at me with a blonde eyebrow cocked. It's definitely a warning. If I want to test him right now, he's just going to fuck off and maybe throw me out of the function too.

"Nope," I tell him, my voice quiet and reserved. Very close to shaking. Fuck, someone's going to have to drag me back there because I won't be able to willingly walk backstage on my own.

My heart is pumping a thousand miles a second. At least, that's what it feels like when Ash grabs my hand with a beaming smile on her face.

Todd points behind him, saying something I can't hear to the security guard. He sends Ash and I a little wave then literally melts into the crowd.

No. No, did Todd actually just ditch us? Oh my gosh I'd much rather take a swim in this disgusting ocean at my feet.

I don't really have time to contemplate on the situation anymore as Ash gives my arm a yank, dragging me into the sea of people around us.

She and I are led through a bustling crowd, bodies crowding our every shift and turn. Lights flash all around us, Ash's hand grips tightly on mine, and it hurts too much to watch the floor crawl beneath me. It feels like I'm walking on quicksand and the solid, shadowy strangers slamming into every inch of me-- even into parts of me I didn't know I fucking had-- is making me panic.

I tilt my head up, staring at the wooden, planked ceiling above the crowd and the balcony that's left empty for people who pay for VIP seats. Must be nice.

The lights suddenly change color-- going from a normal white to red and, thus, adding an eerie touch to the already terrifying atmosphere.

Finally, Ash yanks me through a doorway, said door slamming closed me with a loud thud-- courtesy of the guard who led us back here.

"Damn," Ash breathes, so I turn to her, noting her flushed cheeks and euphoric expression. "Doesn't that just give you a rush?" she asks, looking down to me with a grin as she momentarily squints her jade irises.

I stare at her blankly. "No," I reply bluntly. "Actually, that freaks me the fuck out," I continue, squeezing my eyes shut. I want to scream. "I want to scream."

"Then do it. Not like anyone out there's gonna hear you," Ash's nonchalant response resonates in my brain and I open my eyes again, looking at her with a flabbergasted expression.

"Are you serious?" I murmur, "I can't do that here, That's social suicide."

"Just do it, Vi!" Ash happily exclaims, trying to convince me with her stare alone. "It's just us right now. Us and these guards and I fucking promise you they've seen worse than two women screaming at absolutely nothing."

I just look at her, waiting for her to say she was only kidding. But she only looks back at me, that ever-present smile on her lips and ecstatic emotions flashing through her viridian eyes.

Fuck it. It's a good way to get rid of nerves and it's just us.

"Okay," I whisper, tilting my head down a bit. "Anxiety scream on three?"

Bold of me to assume that Ash could reach peak excitement.

Ash's smile widens into a grin and I watch her eyes fill with so much excitement that I'm afraid she'll go crazy for a moment. "Anxiety scream on three."

I nod, confirming yet again as I say, "One."

"Two."

I gulp. "Three."

Ash and I both let out the most banshee-like, horror movie-worthy, tortured person screams we can possibly muster up. Not a single person flinches around us, no doubt having expected this based on our conversation. But that makes it ten times better because then it's like there's no one else there in the first place. Just me and Ash.

At some point, I need to breathe and I'm shocked Ash is still going by the time I keel over and cough up half a lung.

It's a mix of laughs and gagging over our sore and dry throats once Ash finally stops her scream. My hands are on my knees, tears in my eyes as I fight for my life to actually take a good, deep breath.

Ash has her face angled toward the ceiling as she coughs out bellowing laughs-- they're cackles, really.

I stand after a moment, pushing a hand under my mask to wipe at my wet cheeks. But then I look past Ash and notice the three people in all black standing off in a corner of the room-- all of them with three matching masks.

I sober up immediately, clearing my throat and straightening my posture. Fuck, when did they walk in?

Shit, I don't know how to react. I feel so embarrassed to have been caught recovering from a vulnerable moment. And hell, maybe they walked in while we were screaming. Fuck, that's even worse. But at the same time, I'm elated to almost nearly be face-to-face with one of my favorite bands. They don't beat Breaking Benjamin, but damn, they're so close.

It feels like falling in love. Especially when North and I's gazes connect.

Butterflies erupt from the depths of my stomach like a volcano overdue for an explosion. My cheeks heat up as I wonder if I look good enough. My hands grow clammy and my fingers begin to shake, and a very specific type of fuzziness in my head accompanies my racing heart.

I don't know what to say. I suddenly would rather walk out of the room and brave thousands of bodies than actually accept this chance to meet one of my favorite bands. I mean, they aren't going to talk to me anyway. They'll probably just watch me as I babble. Yea, it's better to just leave. I'm five feet away from them-- that's close enough to meeting to me. Time to go.

As I take a single step back, all three band members eyes on me, Ash grabs my hand and keeps me rooted in place. I look up to her, fear holding me still before I can ask her to let me go. But she doesn't let me get a chance to speak either.

"Hi, boys!" Ash chirps, waving a hand at the group. "Nice to finally meet you!"

All three are men?

My gaze travels back over to the group. The singer and guitarist, North, dressed in black slacks, black dress shoes, a black turtleneck, and black leather gloves. His mask is red with gold and black accents, the top portion a sheet of music. Very fascinating.

Then there's East, wearing a black mask with white, silver, and gold accents. He's in black jeans, a black Deftones shirt, black converse, and a leather jacket to top off the look. He also has the black leather gloves to match his outfit.

Finally, South has a blue mask with gold and white accents. He's wearing a black sweater, a white collar peaking out of the top. Black jeans, very fancy black boots, and, of course, black leather gloves.

Damn, they are so fucking cool. I really need to know what the gloves are about though. Everyone saw their hands earlier, what's the point?

"Vi," Ash says, forcing me back to the real world and away from ogling. "Say hi."

"Hi," tumbles from my lips like involuntary and unplanned vomit after a night of multiple screwdrivers that were mainly vodka (yep, that explanation is coming from an experience that will never leave my soul).

It's awkward, and even South rears his head back like he smelled three day old sardines. North simply tilts his head a bit. East is stock still. Worse, they're all still looking at me.

I cough, clearing my throat a bit. Okay, so I can't avoid this. Great. We love it here.

My feet move forward as I bite down my anxiety and bashfulness. I walk until I'm just a foot away from the three men and raise a hand in a pathetically awkward wave. "Hi," I murmur. "My name's VioletViolence. If you can't tell, I may or may not be, like, a big fan." I try to add some humor to the situation, but it's weak and it shows. I can hear Ash hiss awkwardly behind me. "Sorry," I decide to tack on, wincing lightly. "I don't know how to do this."

They all continue to stare at me. I'm considering just saying thanks for the eye contact before walking out.

But then North decides to take pity on me and sticks a hand out, his black glove on full display for me. He's so close that I can see the small bit of pale skin that shows-- the bit of skin where his shirt sleeve and glove don't quite meet. I try not to pay too much mind since the entire band prefers to be anonymous and faceless.

I hesitantly grab onto his hand, my heart pounding at a speed that should probably pronounce me as dead by this point.

His hand is warm and envelops mine fully, his fingers gently wrapping around the back of my hand. I can hardly even feel the cool, smooth leather of the glove because his hand is just that warm underneath. It's calming, intoxicating even.

I pull away before he can, offering a hand to both East and South who shake my hand immediately.

Once I shake hands with the three, I stand directly before North again-- the head of the small pack. He watches my every move, but I can't even make out the color of his eyes due to how incredibly concealed he is. It's almost frustrating. I want to know what he looks like.

I don't ponder. It's not my place to wonder who they are. After all, why should I be a hypocrite? I'd shit if anyone figured me out.

"You guys did so awesome," I say, grinning as Ash walks up beside me and envelops East in a big hug, droning on about how she's so excited to finally meet her favorite bassist after talking to him online for so long. Her voice is so insanely obnoxious that I start wondering what her motive is.

I look back to North who nods at me in thanks. But then it goes quiet. What the hell is supposed to happen here? Maybe Ash is good at rambling, but I'm not and I don't want to ramble. Especially when I won't even get a response back.

North glances over my shoulder, then looks over his own shoulder before turning back to me. Is he looking for something?

He pats his pocket, but his hand pauses mid air before he can pull anything out, and he motions over to one of the guards instead, pointing at something on a table full of snacks. The guard walks over and picks up a clipboard for North to see, and the masked man nods in response, using his hand to mimic writing.

Next thing I know, North has a clipboard and a pen in his hands. He looks at the contents of the clipboard-- a back stage guest list with all The Faces names written on it, as well as mine. But he rips the paper off the board and flips it over to the blank back and starts writing.

I listen to the quiet scribbles, trying not to sweat in anticipation and anxiousness.

Finally, after what feels like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, North hands me the clipboard and the pen.

I flip it around to look, my insides twisting about as I nervously glance at the scrawled handwriting. All caps, but small.

'ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ���ʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ?'

A little smile quirks my lips. How funny. Me and the lead singer of an amazing band having to communicate through a pen and paper. It just feels silly.

"Sal and Larry?" I ask, glancing up at North who nods, then holds a hand up with his pointer finger as a symbol of the number one. I think about that-- one? What does that mean? Hm... "Oh," I voice, thinking I know what he's trying to say. "Another one? Todd?"

North nods again.

I shrug, holding the clipboard between my arm and side as I flip the pen around my fingers. "Honestly, I'm not sure about Sal and Larry. I figured you guys would know. They've been back here since before the show." I frown a bit. Where could they be? "As for Todd," I continue, "he dipped into the crowd. I don't know if he'll be showing up."

North lifts his head in kind of an 'ah' way, like he understands now that I've explained. Then he motions for the clipboard again, so I hand it back along with the pen.

He scribbles again before handing everything back to me. I look down, scrunching my eyebrows at the message.

'ɪ'ᴠᴇ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏꜱ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ᴄʜᴇᴍɪꜱᴛʀʏ'

Holy fuck, what part of this do I address first? I ask myself this, but the first reaction I have is a raging blush on my cheeks. "You watch my videos?" I squeak out embarrassingly. I haven't even made another video yet and it's been nearly three days now...

North hesitates for a moment before nodding, so I continue. Albeit, I continue with a racing heart and the clammiest hands on this planet. "And you think Sal and I have chemistry?" I can't help but giggle at that. North just shrugs in response.

I smile at him, feeling a bit calmer with this topic as a distraction. "I'd beg to differ, but if that's what it looks like online, I won't complain. I'd rather everyone think we were just... that we just have a weird friendship. I don't want them to know that things are actually just as tough as we make it seem."

Why am I blabbing so much? Imagine if Sal walked in and heard this. He'd peel my scalp from my fucking skull.

North motions for the clipboard yet again so I struggle to get it back to him as quickly as I can. More awkward scribbling, then he holds the clipboard up to me instead of handing it back. I guess he anticipates having to write more.

I lean a bit closer, squinting my eyes to read what's written-- curse my shitty vision and contact prices.

'ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ɪ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇ.'

I suck in a breath. "Well, he's definitely hard to be around. But he hasn't done all that much to make me say I dislike him." I think about it. I mean he's rude to me, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. And either way, I don't have to mention that I borderline hate the guy... "He's aggravating and rude, but I'm starting to get used to that. Maybe that's just how he is." I trail off toward the end because I've seen Sally in other social settings. He really isn't like this with anyone else. It's just me. It's always me.

But then something more important resonates in my mind. I'm literally telling Sal Fisher's friend about how awful of a person he is.

My eyes widen and I look up, noting North's stoic eyes that hide any and all emotion he could be feeling. I start to panic, waving my hands at my sides as my mouth works silently, trying to find words to say. My stomach churns and I struggle to hold down all the fear that wants to break through my skin.

"Ah, fuck. I'm sorry," I say shakily, bringing my hands in front of me to crack my knuckles. "I don't mean to bad mouth your friend. He really isn't all that bad, I just..." I trail off and shake my head. "I'm just making this so much worse."

I hear what sounds like a muffled snort come from North. The sound makes my insides go still while I wait for his response that's currently being written.

He holds the clipboard up to me, settling into a very nonchalant stance.

"ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ. ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴅɪᴄᴋ."

My mouth gapes, but then I look into his slightly squinted eyes and can't help but grin. Well, at least we agree somewhere and he isn't angry with me. That helps a lot.

Suddenly, the little connection between us is interrupted. A woman walks into the room and she motions over to Dark Autumn Complex with the most outlandish expression I've seen all day.

"What the hell are you three doing?" she asks, voice falling off into a scoff. "I told you we have shit to cover. You can come hang out with everyone later. Can't any of you listen?"

My eyes widen as I watch the band members all glance to each other. That's one scary manager-- if she is their manager.

North looks back to me, gives me a quick wave, then walks off with the other two members. And they disappear as quickly as they came. I almost feel like the interaction never even happened.

Ash and I shrug at each other, then have a fuck it moment and pick through the snack table.

For a full two uninterrupted minutes, I sit there, snack on chocolate-covered strawberries, and ponder whatever the hell just happened. I think about my own feelings as well.

North was ridiculously nice, especially compared to some of the people I've met before (*cough* Sal Fisher *cough*). He was easy to talk to, even with our speech barrier. We still found a way to communicate, and I'm glad we did. I enjoyed getting to converse with him, however short the moment may have been. Do I have more of a viable reason to crush on him? Yea, absolutely. maybe he isn't as out of my league as I thought. He knows who I am. He watches my videos. And he's nice? That's, like, twenty extra points in my book.

I won't get too ahead of myself though, not when there's this stupid thing going on with Sally. I really need to figure that out first.

And like I specifically said-- I had just two minutes of silence. And after those two minutes are up, the giant metal door that Ash and I walked through a few minutes ago swings open and bounces off of the cement wall beside it.

Lo and behold, in walks Larry and Sal. They're both out of breath, carrying at least four bags in both their hands. Larry's face is red, though he still has that signature grin. Sal's neck is covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

And suddenly, a thread of an idea begins to weave itself through my mind. The thread quickly turns into a full, fleshed out, and calculatingly mapped theory that I'm almost 75% sure about.

And it scares me. Deeply.

Fishnets. Masks. Height. No talking. The sudden disappearance. Sal and Larry's perfectly timed arrival.

I watch the boys with terror in my eyes. I track every step they take toward the snack table. My gaze follows each little treat that they lay out. My ears zone in on their mumbled story about missing the new DAC song to pick up some of their favorite snacks.

But I don't believe any of it. Not a word.

Because I wholeheartedly think that Sally Face and Larry Johnson are two of three members of Dark Autumn Complex.

There are too many coincidences. Honestly the timing of Sal and Larry walking in and the lyrics about fishnets are what set me off the most. There's no way someone can nail an event so closely without having experienced it. And there's just no way Sal and Larry can walk in here like it's nothing after having enough time to quickly change their clothes and grab some random bags of snacks on their run back over here.

It's genius, but it fills me up with dread all the same. No fucking way. I keep getting shocked, but each time, the discovery is so much worse.

Larry randomly boasts about in front of me, wiggling his eyebrows as he skips up to me with that sexy smirk. It has no affect on me right now though. I'm contemplating, I'm theorizing, and I'm genuinely horrified.

He grabs my hands and brings me a little closer to him. I swallow thickly, watching him and waiting. Ideas are running through my head, driving me up the fucking wall. I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm right on the cusp of confirming this unfortunate discovery.

I refuse to have a crush on Sal Fisher.

"Quiero comerte viva," Larry suddenly drawls, pulling my attention away from my desperation for a second. I don't know what he said, but it was random enough to confuse me. But, I at least know the language.

"You speak Spanish?" I decide to ask him, clearing my oddly hoarse voice.

He chuckles, winking at me. "No, but I am an intellectual in the art of romance. I know how to woo the ladies."

I pinch my lips together and give him a pitiful look. "It's not a very good wooing if no one even knows what you're saying."

Larry frowns at me, seemingly thinking about that. But before he or I can say anything more, Sally walks past us and toward Ash. And he says, "It means, 'I want to eat you alive.'"

I choke on air, struggling to take a breath in. Sal just said that to my face and it was hot as fuck. Not to mention, Larry said that to me in another language. That's really hot too.

My head snaps to Larry who looks impressed. "Oh," he says thoughtfully, tilting his head. "So that's what it means."

And now I have to think about how ridiculous Larry is. About why and how Sally just happened to know what that Spanish phrase translated to. And on top of that-- their hidden identities as member of DAC.

But the doors that I believe they disappeared into just a couple minutes ago reopens, and a fresh wave of utter confusion and shock rocks my body all over again.

North, East, and South walk back out, facing us. But they also come face-to-face with Larry and Sal, which means... I was wrong. And I don't know if I'm disappointed or extremely fucking relieved.

Sal, Larry, and Ash talk animatedly to Dark Autumn Complex who simply listens to them without answering. All the while, I stand behind, watching.

Maybe I assumed that Sal and Larry were part of the band because I was desperate to find someone like me. Searching for someone, anyone who was hiding behind another identity. Hoping I wasn't the only selfish person with more than one name. Because I feel guilty about it.

I know I feel guilty-- deep down, I genuinely feel bad for lying to Larry and Todd. Even Sal. He may be a dick, but he and Lexi seemed to really connect. And I didn't have the guts to even tell him who I really am. I still don't.

And so I thought I discovered something in this fucked up situation that I created. Discovered something that never existed in the first place.

_____

A/N::::: hi babies :3 sorry it's been so long, but if it helps any, i have a lot planned! as always though, of course.

I present to you another ryver original *screams* but i've been super excited about this chapter. i'm even more excited about the next though!!! eeeekkkk!

i have chapter thirteen completely written up and fleshed out, i just have to go in and fix a few things and give it a proof read. 'cause i mean, 10,000 words worth of smut is a bit of an overkill right? ;)

For now, here's Dark Autumn Complex's masks.

North's mask ^^^ (fyi, his outfit is inspired by Noah Sebastian. Look him up and see him in a turtle neck. it'll change your life😫)

East's mask ^^^^

South's mask ^^^^

i'll be posting the next chapter in a couple days so i can give myself some time to catch up with you guys. until then, happy days and sweet nights. i love you all endlessly <333

[nutklcker]

HI (I LOVE THE PARAGRAPHS EACH OFYOU LEAVE IN MY TAGS SO FUCKIMG MUCH) do any of your ocs have ref sheets. or even just full-body drawings . totally not asking for any specific purpose ....

WE'RE SO GLAD YOU LOVE OUR RAMBLING you have such pretty art and reblog some of the best posts and you're so good at writing so we just have to explode in the tags sometimes hehe

Also we saw this ask like four? Five? Hours ago and went Oh Shit No We Don't and have spent the whole time drawing and we were like Oh we should throw our LC alters in there too since this is their blog and their mutuals should know who they're talking to! And then we got distracted and ONLY drew the alters and host's self insert and none of our OC's so :> we'll do that eventually though but we'll also do like another post with more info ANYWAYS here's the art we made of the self insert and the Lethal alters :3

Info for each of us under the cut (also Rend and Anno are heavily derived from a fever dream March had after we got surgery and had complications, as such they have a story and are pretty attached to it so we'll go into that too)

The "Story"/Fever Dream:

There were two crews who led a revolution against The Company about fifty years before the game takes place, and of them were eight people named Experimentation, Assurance, Vow, Offense, March, Rend, Dine, and Titan, and they weren't named after the planets, the planets were named after them. (Rend, March, Assurance, and Vow were on a team with Rend being the captain, and the other team was led by Titan and had Dine, Offense, and Experimentation.) Eventually, the revolution got pretty popular and widespread so The Company gave in and agreed to meet with the two teams to discuss their requests, and at the end of the discussion they promised the requests would take place within the next few weeks. The eight members of the revolution were satisfied and went back to work, but the next day they were given news that due to their conjoined efforts they would have to all split up and join different teams to ensure that they didn't again backstab the company once their requests were fulfilled. They, unfortunately, did not put up a fight against this and within the next quota cycle each of them were abandoned and killed on different, new moons none of them had ever seen before. The company never enforced the things they agreed upon but because the leaders of the revolution were killed before word of the promises got far, and because they mysteriously went missing and had new moons named after them, nobody said anything and nobody acted out against The Company.

Pace:

- Pace is Geno's self-insert OC and he uses He/Him pronouns and is transmasc <3

- He was an employee for The Company AFTER the time of the revolution and worked not as a scrap collector but as a biologist. His team was tasked with finding specific monsters and collecting some bio matter from them to then bring back to The Company. Pace had a rivalry with one of his teammates who was tired of Pace always succeeding, so, he pushed for Pace to receive a Bracken as his quarry and succeeded. However upon arriving Pace was easily able to find the Bracken of Vow (who was actually Vow from the revolution) and collect bio matter from it by befriending it, which enraged his competitor and led to both Pace and Vow being shot. Vow tried to protect Pace after realizing the shot that hit him was not meant for him, but both were too wounded to survive. Vow disintegrated atop of Pace, leaving him and his open wounds covered in Bracken spores, and his competitor left to eventually be killed by a coilhead. Their other two teammates made it out.

- The spores found the decomposing body of a human to be the perfect place to reform and create a new Bracken; that being Pace. Pace spent about twenty years hunting loot bugs and hiding from scrap collectors before a woman named Kite and her captain Calamity found him at the fire exit of Vow. The two found that he was friendly and took him upon their ship, but one of their teammates was appalled at having a "friendly" Bracken and, as they were leaving, pushed Calamity out of the ship in anger, landing her between a dog and a baboon hawk. Pace jumped to rescue her and while he was successfully able to lure the dog away enough for Calamity to safely jump back on the ship, he was grabbed by the Dog and torn to shreds. The ship's autopilot took off while he was fighting the dog and the crew (excluding the asshole) started to panic.

- The next day Vow was eclipsed and, much to Calamity and Kite's disdain, the crew decided to wait for the eclipse to pass before landing back down on Vow and looking for Pace. Meanwhile, Pace had managed to crawl his way back to the fire exit, tumbling down the ravine, and set himself up on a pallet just inside the door. There, sleeping through the whole day, he was able to slowly heal.

- The third and last day of the quota cycle, Calamity's crew got into another argument with Asshole over going to save Pace, and landed at Vow without realizing another team (March's team, as he had already been rescued by a crew by this time) had already landed there. Calamity and Kite rushed in to find Pace while Sail, the crew's navigator and Kite's twin brother, argued with the asshole. The captain of the other crew, who's ship was nearby, overheard an argument about saving a "friendly bracken" and connected the dots that another crew must have found someone like March, their friendly coil-head, and walked out to confront the two. Sail left to help Calamity and Kite find Pace, and the captain (name yet unknown) spoke with the asshole, found out he wanted to kill Pace and attempted to kill his own captain, and promptly hit him over the head with a shovel in order to protect not just his crew, but March as well. The asshole was left there as the captain rushed in to inform his crew of another friendly monster and tell the other crew bus was happy to help, and the asshole was left there to be picked up and carried away by a Giant.

- Pace was eventually found , missing most of his arm, leg, and leaves on his left side, and the two crews met up and became friends. Pace was placed in a large pot covered up to his shoulders in dirt and for the next few quota cycles his crew would place him outside to soak up the sun and look around. Because his arm and leg were fully submerged in the soil and water, they regrew, but his eye never did. He doesn't mind too much though, he can tell when things are looking at him and, in his opinion, that's all he really needs his eyes for. He helps scavenge for scrap and is able to carry two heavy items at a time, however, he can only carry one light item when doing so as it's uncomfortable to hold in his big hands

March:

- March was our first LC alter and has been around since about late October? He's not too conncected to his source and is actually the version of March from our fever dream BEFORE the revolution ended. So though the March in our dream was a coil head by the end of it, our March still thinks of himself as human. Being compared to a coil doesn't bother him though, they're his favorite enemy in the game :) also he's mute and considers himself cis and demiro-ace.

Rend:

- Rend is also one of our alters but is a lot more attached to both the game and the "story" so he has some funky false memories and is a little delulu about it, but he's happy and healthy and aware of reality and not hurting anyone or our system or himself so we don't mind hehe also, Rend is transmasc just like host and his pronouns are he/him but he's trying out they/it

- Rend is of course based on Captain Rend from the "story" but, unlike March, is from AFTER he died and he much prefers being seen as a nutcracker than a human. Our assumption over why is because Rend had actually been a fragment for most of our life who managed family interactions, and since that was all our brain found him fit for he never really gained a personality or sense of self and as such thinks he looks exactly like our host and would probably share the same name and everything. We think subconsciously our brain makes him like being a nutcracker more than a human in order to make it easier to distinguish him and host

- Rend, being much more intrigued by the fever dream likes daydreaming about it a lot, like he's roleplaying in his head in his own, and as such he likes talking about it and thinking about it a lot more than March does. So, here's some things he daydreams about a lot and thinks would be "canon" continuations of the "story"/fever dream:

- Before March's team found Pace and his team, they got to a pretty high quota and started visiting Rend and Dine. One of their first times visiting Rend, Melody, an employee on March's team, found a seemingly deactivated nutcracker deep in the facility. The team had split up so Melody knew she would have to be careful, but she wanted the shotgun so she crept close and clumsily grabbed it, setting it off. This startled here and she backed off, watching in silent horror as the Nutcracker slowly started to move and stand and, eventually, open up and look around. In panic, Melody ran despite being looked at and, for a moment, Rene stood there confuse before he realized he had finally found someone. Forgetting his voice, he chased after her for a bit but she would frequently stop and hold still so he had trouble. Eventually he shouted to her to wait and she paused, turning to look at the apparently able to speak nutcracker just as March had sped up beside her to block the path between her and Rend. Staring down at an employee with his shotgun and a coilhead that was looking at him and not said employee, Rend ran. In instinct, as she had gotten used to March by now, Melody turned and March gave chase. He was scared and angry that the nutcracker had presumably tried to shoot his friend and, upon trying to push the nutcracker to get it to stop running, he sent a surge through its body and caused it to bleed (like how we headcannon them to work, building up pressure in the body's blood). Melody followed a few rooms behind, having trouble keeping up with the two big monsters but, when Rend was hurt he screamed, and Melody knew that wasn't any of her teammates so she picked up the pace. Rend had been cornered but Melody caught sight of March which forced him to stop moving, and tried to rush to the nutcracker when she saw him bleeding, but, turning her back to March Rend panicked and stepped between the two, telling Melody that he wanted to talk to her but couldn't protect her with the state he was in, so she needed to look at the coil head. He was seemingly trying to protect her. For his comfort she did look at March, but tried to assure him to calm down, sit for a little so she could try and tend to whatever part of him was bleeding, and that she would be more than willing to talk. They spoke for a while, Rend having trouble believing that the coil was friendly given how it seemingly tried to explode him, but he let bygones be bygones. Melody and March both started to wonder if this was one of his old friends but they had decided beforehand not to bring it up to any possible teammates without getting a gauge for their mental state, and Rend was very frazzled so they decided to wait to ask his name or story until he calmed down. They gave him back his shotgun, he turned the safety on, and Melody convinced him to open up so she could tend to his bleeding eye, and eventually the three started to make their way back to main in order to meet up with the rest of the team and get Rend out to their ship

- On the way there they met up with the teammate March had been with before he came running after he heard the gunshot, but this teammate was actively running from a thumper. Rend tried to shoot it but missed due to his eye injury and urged the rest of them to run as he'd hold it back as long as possible. The three left and Rend dragged the Thumper around for a bit before it got loose and rocketed down the hallway after the three. Rend, knowing the layout like the back of his hand, took an alternate route to get to main in order to hopefully outpace the thumper. He made it in time to tackle the thumper and send it and him over the balcony railing where they landed near Melody, March, and their other teammate who were actively trying to scare off a Bracken. Rend urged them to head outside and leave for their safety and they did. It took them a while to get back enough money to go back for Rend, and in this time they met Pace and his team. Rend is still actively daydreaming about this all the time so I'm sure he'll infodump about it more another time.

Anno:

- Anno has been around for the least amount of time, we had a major allergic reaction while Rend was fronting and so he spent time curled in a ball daydreaming as he always loves to. For comfort he daydreamed about cuddling a friendly masked, but eventually got so fed up he told our partner, aloud "I really hate this body" and our little asshole of a brain (/lh) essentially went "oh really? New alter be upon ye" and turned that cute little Masked Rend was daydreaming about into a new fragment. Anno has since become more concrete, he's transmasc and uses it/its pronouns, and it's not very interested in Lethal Company but LOVES Rend a lot. It's just kinda gay and likes Minecraft, like those are its things so far. Rend has decided that if Anno was in the "story" it would've been from far before the revolution and was left behind by mistake. That's about it for Anno, it's just kinda a thingy that's very gay

Wow so that's the end of that, I'm incapable of making long stories short apparently tee hee. I've been talking for way too long and I doubt anyone got this far, but this was mostly for us since we're soupy right now and it made us feel grounded. If you got this far Anno gives you a cookie.

[whalesandstars]

Even Puppets Need Blankets (Part 1)

Wanderer & Nahida, Platonic [Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic]

Summary: Due to the mental and emotional strain of recovering his memories, the Wanderer falls ill. As he battles the fever and nightmares of his past, Nahida stays by his side and realizes that perhaps at the end of the day, they are two lonely birds, locked and abandoned, lost and lonely, who crave for the company and love of others.

Nahida did not need to hear the Wanderer’s words to know that something was wrong.

The archon kept talking to the traveler and Paimon in her usual way but kept her other senses observant to their other companion’s actions as discreetly as possible. She could feel that even though he looked attentive at first glance, he was not a hundred percent honed in on the words echoing in the Sanctuary of Surasthana. She noticed the way he shifted uncomfortably from where he stood, the shakiness of his hands which he tried to hide by folding his arms across his chest, and the glaze that would occasionally dull his eyes. He seemed like he would keel over any time, like a single flower that could easily be blown away by the softest of breeze.

She wanted to ask him what was amiss but knowing him, especially with a lot of people present, he would take a defensive stance against the harmless concern and would shrug it away with sharp words.

Nahida decided on a different approach.

“Thank you for your help traveler.” She smiled and turned to the Wanderer, “Can you stay for a while? I want to discuss something with you. That is, if you are willing. If you need to rest, we can talk about it some other time.”

The Wanderer unknowingly bit the bait and replied with a scoff, “I have no need for such thing. If you need me for something, I can stay.”

Nahida nodded, “Great. Thank you.”

After a round of friendly exchanges, the traveler and Paimon left with a list of food to eat in hand. The dendro archon’s tiny hand waved them goodbye, her words filled with joy and anticipation for the next time they would meet. Soon, only Nahida and the Wanderer stood inside the sanctuary, their figures seemingly so small in the enormous space around them.

When the echo of the doors shutting close subsided into silence, when the light of the setting sun from the gap by the entrance had eclipsed, only dim emerald radiance remained. Fatigue washed over Nahida. Although most of what happened today only occurred in the form of a dream and she was merely an observer in everything, the toll of sustaining the dreamscape and processing all the emotions she had felt drained her energy. Still, what she was experiencing was probably just a fraction of what her companion was feeling right now.

The said companion seemed to be lost in deep thought that he did not notice Nahida turning to face him and calling his name. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

He is thinking, she thought.

But as of the moment, with everything he had been through today, thinking was doing him more harm than good.

“Wanderer.” She spoke louder but soft enough not to startle him.

It seemed to have done the trick for the Wanderer snapped out of his trance. With a few blinks, the fog cleared from his eyes and locked with an emerald pair, “What is it that you want to discuss with me?”

She did not know that it was possible for puppets to go pale but the one before her surely could. She did not mention it and just tucked it away along with the observation that his cheeks somewhat looked flushed, “I want to discuss your accommodations for the time being. If you have no place to go, this place can be your home. You are more than welcome to stay here.”

Like lightning, a brief flash of emotion softened his face, but dissipated as soon as it appeared. He averted his gaze from the archon, “I think I have bothered you long enough during my stay here before. Besides, you would never stop bugging me everyday if I start living here. If you are worried about my wellbeing, there is no cause for concern–” His words faltered when his vision suddenly swayed.

Nahida was quick to react. Although the Wanderer found his balance in a heartbeat, she still held on to him to provide support. It was at this moment, when her hand came in contact with his arm, did she notice what was wrong.”

She frowned, “I am afraid there is indeed a cause for concern. You have a fever.”

As if burned, he immediately flinched away from her grasp, “My body is not of a human’s. Such affliction cannot manifest in me.”

Nahida expected that he would tough it out and insist on keeping his facade by remaining upright, but to her surprise, he sat himself on the stone flower behind them. He must be feeling worse than she thought. In fact, the crimson shade on his face seemed to have deepened and his eyes were more glassy than before.

Her bare feet softly thumped on the ground as she approached the Wanderer to sit beside him. “True, your body may not have the same constitution as humans, but your mind and consciousness are, therefore you are not immune to psychological malady.”

“What do you mean?”

She placed her hands on her lap and lightly swung her feet in the air, “When a mind is subjected to stressful situations or intense emotional events, there are times when it starts affecting the body. One of our scholars did a study on this and he found out that it could result in a wide variety of physical discomfort, including fevers.” She spared him a glance and saw him blinking away fatigue, “You have experienced centuries worth of memories and emotions all in a span of hours. Human or puppet, that will surely put a strain on one’s mind.”

Nahida hopped away from her seat and stood in front of her companion, “You should rest. The spare room where you stayed last time is still present. You can stay there while you recover.”

He opened his mouth to say something, however, before he could vocalize his thoughts, he was cut off.

“No, I will not let you out there to find a place to stay while you are in this condition.” Not when he looked like he would pass out the moment he stepped out of the sanctuary, “You have been through a lot and you are tired. So please, make yourself at home here. Let yourself rest. You deserve it.”

He pondered for a moment, “...Fine.”

Nahida respected the space he wanted as she led him to their destination. However, she made sure to keep her pace in sync with his to make sure that she could assist him if he ever lost balance again. Thankfully, the short trip was uneventful. Soon, they were standing in front of a familiar door, the same one that the archon kept opening everyday as she diligently visited him while he was in a coma. Without a word, she opened it, revealing a bare room with only a bed with pristine white pillows and blankets, as well as a wooden chair and table.

A strange feeling settled on her chest. Up until this morning, this was how she remembered this room’s appearance, but now, she could recall a bunch of Aranara plushies sitting on the bed, a story book on the wooden bedside table, and a jar of candies on the chair. Now, it felt so empty. It was as if all the traces of the tears he shed while sleeping evaporated from the pillows. It was as if all the arguments they had when he woke up and the brief little smile on his lips when she told him about the dook dook analogy were gone.

Technically, they were indeed gone.

Erased.

Forgotten by the world like The Balladeer's existence.

A corner of her heart lit up. Yes, they were erased, but just like how this room could be decorated once more, just like how the white bed seemed like an empty canvas, they could paint new memories from here, not as Buer and The Balladeer, but as Nahida and the Wanderer.

“Get some sleep.” She told him, a warm smile on her lips when he went straight to the bed and sat on its edge.

When he saw that she followed him, his eyebrow lifted in inquiry, “Well? Are you going to watch me sleep?”

“In fact, yes.” Nahida seated herself on the chair, falling back into an old familiar routine, “If I leave you alone, there is a high possibility that you will not rest and instead think about various things. Right now, thinking will only stress your mind further and will hinder your recovery.”

“If you want to be bored then suit yourself.” 

He climbed on the bed, exhaustion clouding his mind and leaving him no energy to argue with the archon. With heavy limbs, he snuggled under the sheets while Nahida summoned a book to keep her company.

The archon opened the book, a study about the psychology of humans, while her patient was staring at the ceiling. For a while, she let him lay in silence, with only the turning of pages to occasionally break it, but when minutes had already passed, she spoke, “You are doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“You are thinking.”

He replied with silence.

Nahida’s eyes were still fixed on the page, but the words had lost their meaning, leaving only figures of letters, “I understand that you have a lot to think about and it is hard to keep them at bay, but the answers you are looking for are not something you can get today. You cannot chase them with haste. It will take time.” Her voice was soft and calming, “Take things slowly. Everything will fall into place in time. For now, focus on letting your mind rest so that you can start healing from the wounds you bear.”

A sigh, tension fading with a breath.

“Alright.” He pulled the blanket up and turned to his side, his eyes blearily looking at the figure of the small archon as he started to dip into slumber.

“I am so tired.” The words slipped from his mouth in his half conscious state.

Emerald irises lifted from the book to gaze at the drifting Wanderer, warmth emanating from her gaze, “Then sleep. I will be here.”

“You are not alone anymore.” She whispered as his eyes closed.

For so long, me too, had been alone, hurt, tired, and confused.

So I understand. I really do.

Hence why I will be a tiny light that will accompany you, guide you, in this seemingly endless void,

The same way others did for me.”

Nahida had never truly experienced taking care of someone before. Sure, she had comforted sick individuals like Dunyarzad in their dreams, but the work itself was foreign to her. Still, she did everything knowledge could offer to her.

Dipping a towel into a bowl of cold water, she let it become soaked before fishing it out and wringing out the water. As if touching something fragile, she gingerly patted her patient’s face with the moist cloth, letting her hand linger a moment longer when he unconsciously leaned on her touch. It was amusing to see that beneath his distant and cold attitude whenever he was awake and alert, he did crave the touch of others. He wanted company. He wanted someone to be there for him, but he had been hurt several times in the past that he started putting walls between himself and other people, shutting the potential dangers but not allowing the care and love he craved to reach him as well.

She brushed his hair away and let the cloth settle on his forehead.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, do you think I am evil?”

The question echoed in her mind as she watched him sleep.

Yes, he was evil. He had caused great suffering to many and he had even killed people. He had been cruel and selfish. He had stomped out people as if they were mere insects in his way to burn down the world and become a god. He had committed vile acts. That could never change no matter what was the reason behind it, regardless of the story he had, just like how a crime would remain a crime despite the motivation and intentions.

Yes, someone could be evil,

But they had a choice to remain evil or not.

Just like how a painter could use his brush to turn his ghastly paintings into more colorful ones, a person could choose to live a life different from his destructive ways. Change was always an option, especially in this world where grays existed between black and white. It was just up to the individual if they wanted to keep walking on the same trail in a dark forest or to find a new path that led to greener fields.

She could light the way for him, but it was up to him if he would follow it.

And he did.

He would stumble and fall along the way, but she would always be there, guiding him.

“Lesser Lord Kusanali, do you think I am evil?”

Yes, he was but he had decided to atone for what he had done and begin a new life.

The past could not be rewritten, but the present and the future could continue the story of an evil man, a villain, into a better person.

The Wanderer slept soundly for a while, but when Nahida was reading her second book, he started getting restless. Concerned, she cupped his forehead and arm, comparing it with hers. He definitely felt warmer than before. This kicked her into action and was about to walk towards the door to replace the warm water on the bowl when…

…a warm hand grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t go.” A weak voice that sounded so young, small, and broken, pleaded.

Turning around, Nahida’s heart ached at the sight; at the image of a child, his eyes clouded with pain and sorrow, looking at her as if she was going to abandon him.

It was similar.

It was similar to the face reflected on the sage’s glasses when they were walking away from the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

It was similar to how a little bird reached out on the gaps of its cage, desperately begging for the love and freedom it craved, while saying,

“Don’t leave me alone.”

His voice overlapped with her own from her memories.

With tears pricking her eyes, she clasped his hand with hers, encasing them with warmth and pulling it close to her chest, “I will not leave you.”

In the end, she asked for someone to fetch the necessary supplies for her while she remained by his side. She never left even as he grappled against the throes of fever and the nightmares of his past. Instead, she sat close to him and did her best to pacify the fire burning him from the inside, diligently patting his face with a wet cloth and wiping away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. She let the towel settle on his forehead while she gently combed her fingers through his hair and a gentle lullaby sung by her lips.

Her soothing gestures were interrupted when he suddenly bolted, his eyes hazed and filled with anguish. His gaze locked with hers and he immediately cowered in fear, wrapping his arms protectively around himself and backed away until all he could do was curl with his back on the head board of the bed.

“It hurts.” He rasped, sobs racking his body, “No more, please.”

“Where does it hurt?” Nahida inquired, keeping her distance so as to not frighten him further in his delirious state.

Like a wounded animal cornered by its predator, he hugged his knees and curled to himself further, gently rocking himself to soothe his distress, “It hurts, it hurts. No more, Dotorre.”

She froze. He was not seeing her as Nahida, but as Dottore. The notion made her sick. Even she was haunted by the things the Doctor did when she saw a glimpse of the Balladeer’s memories. To be compared to such a wicked person was beyond repulsive.

“The furnace…We have to–I have to…” He held his head with his hands, panic consuming him, “It burns, Niwa, it burns. It hurts. Where did you go, Niwa? Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me…” tears streamed down his face, “You promised me that we’ll forge a blade better than Nagamasa. Niwa, don’t die…don’t leave me…” Crystal droplets fell one after another only to disappear upon plummeting into the sheet, “Little brother…we’ll live together forever. We’ll find a cure…we’ll find it. Don’t leave me too, please.”

Nahida’s own tears fell.

“Mother…Niwa…brother…don’t leave me.” He cried, “Please…it hurts.”

It’s okay. You will be alright.

Those were the words she wanted to say, but they were no more than empty lies.

Niwa was fine.

Niwa was dead.

You would not be alone.

He was alone.

It was okay.

He was not okay.

You would be alright.

…He would be alright.

Not now, but he would be alright.

She hoped.

“You will be alright.” She repeated.

This one was not a lie, but a promise of a better future, a promise she would strive to achieve.

She wiped the dampness on her cheeks and gently inched closer to the trembling and weeping Wanderer, her voice soothing and overflowing with tenderness and warmth.

“Don’t leave me alone…” His voice was mere embers of a flame that once burned with hope.

“I am here.” She spoke despite knowing that he was probably not seeing her as herself, “I will accompany you.”

His grief cascaded down his face, “It hurts.”

She could feel his anguish radiating into her mind like waves wildly thrown by a sea of fire. It burns, like the heat emanating from his skin when she touched him. She could feel his agony, desperation, sorrow, fear–everything. She could feel hot tears dripping onto her neck as she wrapped his quivering torso with her arms, encasing him, protecting him from his own mind, from the memories that kept pulling him under.

“I am here.” She hugged him tighter and spoke through his heart-wrenching sobs, “I am here.”

I would be your anchor whenever the raging tides wanted to drown you.

I would be the moon lighting your way during starless nights.

I would be someone who would hold you when no one else would.

I would be here.

I would be the one who would catch you when the ground beneath your feet disappears.

You will never be alone again.

“I’m so tired.” His voice was broken and exhausted, “I’m so tired.”

She soothingly rubbed the back of his head, her hand faintly glowing with the light of dendro, hoping that it would help ease his pain, that this tiny light would guide the lost wanderer to the path of solace, “I know.” She gently whispered, “You have been through so much. I know you are tired. I know you are tired of living like this, lost and in pain. I cannot fully take away the agony and heal your wounds in an instant, but I will be here, for as long as you need it.”

She could feel his  weight lean on her, his body slowly relaxing. With utmost are, she helped him lay back on the bed, his dark hair splayed on the white pillow, his red-rimmed and hazed eyes fixed on her gentle expression while she pulled the blanket up to his chest.

“I know you are tired, so sleep.” Her finger wiped away the stray tear that fell, “Sleep and when you are doing better, we will go on a journey to find the sun, to a place, where you can find the happiness you deserve.”

She laid beside him, her arms wrapped around his torso, allowing their bodies to feel the presence of one another as they snuggled, “Close your eyes and sleep. Tomorrow may not be brighter than today, but I will be with you until we see a sliver of light in this never ending darkness, no matter how long it takes.”

I would be here,

I would stay,

But I hope you find the strength to stay too.

Two lonely birds, locked and abandoned,

Lost and lonely,

Found each other and became a family.

Now they are huddled together in each other’s warmth,

In this tiny nest they could call home.

Part 2