#cause what if i couldn't even stand without my cane?

[fellowfights]

Earlier this week, someone tried to "prove" I didn't need my cane by snatching it away from me while I was in the Fry's check out line with my sister

She saw me standing and just announced "I knew it! You can walk without it!"

I was so shocked I kinda just stood there, my legs shaking. I was humiliated. I was petrified. I was hurting because standing without my cane is painful.

My sister, seeing my state, then threatened to beat the shit outta this yt lady if she didn't give it back. She exclaimed "yeah! She can walk without it but it hurts too, so why would she? Why not make her life easier? She has chronic pain, you asshole!"

Anyway, she gave it back with some grumbling but I just want u to know that u trying to have a "gotcha moment" isn't worth it. Also just because someone doesn't "need" a mobility aid, doesn't mean that having one isn't making their lives so much easier.

[butt3rnugg3t]

Bonedeep Ache

Summery: Short drabble based on this idea I posted a bit ago. Though I feel like this took a different direction once I started writing it lol

AN: I live in the US (unfortunately) and I am an undiagnosed 23 year old with no health insurance and a shitty paying job so I can't go figure out what's wrong with me. This is entirely based on my own experiences, I'm not trying to self diagnose. Just trying to write the comfort I wanna read. Thanks!

AN2:Also hoping this reads ok, the longer I look at it the more i second guess my writing.

Remus didn't know what was worse. The cold snap that's been sticking around the last few weeks or his over protective boyfriends. Though one couldn't exist without the other it seemed.

His hip creaked under his weight as he moved to stand. Watching James come through the front door with the groceries for dinner. He was quickly ushered back down by Sirius. The self appointed guard dog for the living room it seemed.

"Not getting up unless you use your cane," Remus only rolls his eyes, grumbling as he settles back in his seat. He was aware he sounded like a petulant child. But he was a grown man and they were treating him like a weak child.

He was pulled out of his pouting by James running back outside. He made eye contact with Sirius, though he looked just as confused. He moved to get up again, catching Sirius glare. Huffing lightly and grabbing his cane reluctantly to follow his raven haired boyfriend to the door.

Remus isn't surprised by what he finds. His equally stubborn girlfriend, clad in the comfiest work clothes you could don this morning (one of his jumpers and Sirius' sweats). Arguing with James.

"I don't need picked up James, I can walk just fine-" James is quick to cut her off.

"The hell you can, you told me when you got in the car that your joints all hurt. Why didn't you wear your braces or your compression gloves." Sirius looked ready to blow his top, ready to storm out and join the argument on the porch.

Though Remus was quicker, sticking his cane out to stop his boyfriend. "Dove, wanna come have a bath with me?" Remus understood, the stares and questioning looks. The pitying looks. Though he also new you had your own reasoning for not wearing them.

So he did what he knew would help. Because it helped him too and sometimes that's all you need. Someone who actually understands. And as much as he loved his able body partners, they didn't understand the pain of it all. The deep ache to be normal, to just stop hurting.

"No big light, just some candles. Hot water and bubbles?" He hoped to coax you more. Which seemed to be working if your small smile and small step toward him were any indication.

James, ever the helper, nodded. Heading inside and up the stairs while Sirius held the door open. Remus was grateful for his boyfriends, he knew their scolding came from places of love. Of caring.

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

Bracing himself on the edge of the tub Remus carefully lowers himself into the hot bath. Instantly relaxing back against the tub wall behind him. Taut muscles easing, helping you lower into the water next.

James stood at the door, awaiting further instructions. Poor boy just wanted to help. Wanted to solve the unsolvable reoccurring problem.

"hey I bet you haven't eaten yet have you dove?" Before you can even respond your stomach answers for you. Causing you to burrow yourself into Remus more in embarrassment.

Wordlessly James took that as his que, leaving the doorway. No doubt finally getting dinner fixed in the kitchen. Remus turned his focus back to you, silently picking up your hand from the water. Beginning to massage your fingers and palm. Lithe fingers working diligently to ease the ache.

After a while, Sirius pokes his head around the doorframe. "Foods ready, clothes are on the bed. Fresh from the dryer, towels too."

At his words he produces the fresh linens from behind his back.

Remus nods lightly, stroking your hair lightly. Voice quiet as to not break the reverie of the bathroom.

"Can you grab Dove? And get James to help me out.." Remus looks up to meet Sirius' understanding gaze. Apology written across the lycanthrope's face in turn. No words needed for this small recurring tradition.

Everyone under this roof understood that nerves were short when pain is pressing at the forefront. Remus was thankful for his partners. Dove for understanding, and yes even James and Sirius for their annoying loving scolding

[cryptidghostgirl]

HOLY SHIT

I just got to reading the request you did for me

Aka Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

And I love it so much???

Like it's so good 😭

Don't wanna bother you with another request but could you do a part 2? I'm just curious on if the reader ever succeeds or if alastor ends up getting their marriage back lmao

A/N i’m so glad you liked it!! a number of people have been asking for a part two actually so of course :) Also this is my reminder that I am not a woman in stem but an enby in classics so I get science things wrong,, i’m very sorry.

Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2 (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Nothing I can think of please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 2,206

First Part: Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists��

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I can still be useful" Alastor told himself as he straightened the lapels on his jacket, "She still needs me."

Alastor leaned into the mirror, slicking his hair back just the slightest bit.

"Yes." he nodded to his reflection.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor stepped out into the hall. He didn't know why he was so nervous. Y/n had never caused anxiety to rule his being before, so why was it happening now?

Since her arrival at the hotel, she had stayed locked in her room. Two whole days had gone by and the demon avoided everyone and everything. It was not unexpected or out of the blue, she had always favored her own company above anyone else's but, Charlie was growing tense. She had asked Alastor to help bring their newest guest out of her shell, hoping their shared past would cause his attempts to be more fruitful than her own had been. For some odd reason, Alastor had agreed.

Fondness was the trouble. He was fond of Charlie, and he had always had a bit of a soft spot for Y/n. She had been his wife for christ's sake, there was no way he couldn't have fostered some sort of affection for the wildly brilliant and creative girl.

Before he really realized it, Alastor was at the door to Y/n's room. She had taped a sheet of loose leaf to the door. Keep Out had been written on it in all caps, in her familiar, messy handwriting. Alastor's smile softened slightly at the sight.

Y/n had not haunted his thoughts, had not been an obsession, since his arrival in Hell. While he had recalled her with warmth and a slight smile, even looked for her in Hell on occasion, she had mostly stayed out of his mind after his death. Alastor had had bigger things to deal with, more important occupations of his time. He had had plans. He still had plans but, everything had seemed to change the second Y/n had appeared and nearly flat out told him she didn't care about him.

Alastor was nothing if not prideful. His image, his sense of self, his power, it all played in to the idea of himself in his head. He had figured that through the years of their arrangement, the strange woman had come to harbor some sort of affection for him as he did her. He had figured she at least cared for him as a friend, that her irritation had been friendly, playful even. Clearly, he had been incorrect.

The door suddenly swung open revealing Y/n. She wore an cross expression, a lab coat, and safety goggles. Peering over her shoulder into the room, Alastor noted the way her hair was still continuing whatever she'd been working on before opening the door. He had never seen a demon with a form like hers before. It was perfectly suited, equally unusual as the soul it housed.

"I could feel you standing out here."

Alastor raised his eyebrows, bravado taking over.

"Really, my dear?" he asked, leaning on his microphone before him as if it were a cane.

"Yeah." Y/n flatly replied, lifting the goggles from their eyes and pushing them onto their forehead, "What do you want?"

"I..."

What did he want? Alastor was a man who always knew his goals, his aims. He was always working towards something, no deed without its purpose. It was only now he realized that he didn't really know what he wanted from Y/n, why he had really agreed to fulfill Charlie's request with nothing given in return. Alastor cleared his throat, banishing the complicated thought to another time.

"Charlie requested I come speak to you about your lack of participation in the hotel's group activities."

Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"And you care what I do with my time because...?"

She tilted her head slightly to the side, her hands still on either side of the doorframe, blocking him from entering the room. Alastor sighed.

"You're not going to make this an easy conversation, are you."

It was a statement, not a question, and a slight smile cracked across Y/n's tired face.

"You know me so well." she joked lightly.

Alastor was ready, preparing himself to have to force his way into the room to have this chat. He saw the way her hand on the door twitched, and prepared himself to have it slammed in his face. Much to his surprise, Y/n let go of her hold on the door and stepped to the side.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to come in?" she asked after a moment, her head cocked to the side in a genuine curiosity.

Alastor nearly laughed. Always so inquisitive with regards to the world around her, always trying to fill the gaps in her understanding, usually at a loss when it came to what was considered normal interaction. He stepped into the room. Y/n's hair stopped what it was doing with the test tubes in the back and closed the door for her as she turned to face him. After a look of appraisal, she seemed to decide the atmosphere for the conversation and sat down on the bed, patting the empty space beside her at Alastor's continued hesitation. He sat down and she crossed her legs, watching him intently.

"You need to stop avoiding people, and the activities. You are here to be redeemed, aren't you?"

"Oh! I see what the issue is." Y/n smiled brightly, "No, I'm not."

Alastor's brow furrowed. He had thought it odd that Y/n of all people would seek redemption but, had figured the time had simply changed her in ways he had yet to grasp.

"Then why are you here?"

The little beast called hope clawed at the inside of his stomach, gnawed on his ribs. The want was unfamiliar.

"Because I need an angel."

Alastor froze.

"You need..." he watched her in confusion, "you need an angel?"

"Yep." Y/n nodded in earnest.

She smiled up at him, evidently satisfied with herself and her response. She had always been like this. Alastor sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I need to test my virus on one, duh."

"Y/n, what are you planning."

"Same thing as always. Actually, I could use your help. Maybe this isn't all so bad, can you get me an angel? Just at the next extermination or something. I already know it works on demons, I just don't want to actually let my little baby loose without knowing it will work on the angels as well."

"Jesus, Y/n." Alastor laughed lightly, unable to not.

He shook his head in disbelief and Y/n's smile slipped from her face. She was always scheming, always wanting, always doing what it took to ensure she got what she wanted. They were so alike in that way: complete and utter disregard for the world unless it served them.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Did this hotel already work? Have the exterminations stopped?"

"No, I... you really haven't changed."

"Well, I'm taking out the afterlife now instead of the living world, but sure." Y/n crossed her arms, evidently irritated by his remark, "I'm just the same. So are you, by the way. I've heard about what you've been up to since you died."

Alastor was silent in thought for a moment before he spoke again. He looked at Y/n with a determined gaze.

"Are you asking to reinstate our deal?"

Y/n was wrong, Alastor had changed, she just didn't know it yet. The hotel had changed him, whether or not he wanted to admit it. He realized the answer to Y/n's initial question, what it was that he wanted, in that moment and there were only three things. The first was the same as it had been for the last seven years, to get rid of this damned contract he was under. The second? The second he had realized earlier, in his room when he'd been getting ready to come to Y/n, he just hadn't liked it and so, he had ignored it. Alastor wanted to be back in her good books. More importantly, for some undefinable reason, Alastor wanted her back at his side. The world, he had realized, had felt empty without her, no matter how irritating and distracting she could be. Though his motivations were muddy, figuring out the reason for the want was never the priority. The end goal was to fulfill by any means necessary. It always had been, for both of them. The third was that Alastor secretly wanted Charlie's crazy plan to work out. He wanted to protect these sinners, to protect this place they had all worked so hard to build.

There was a point of intersection to be found in two of these three things, if Y/n answered his question correctly. Taking out sinners, taking an angel, could let all hell loose on the hotel. Convincing Y/n to make a deal with him, to give Alastor her soul, well, that would be killing two birds with one stone. He would have his imperfect little companion in afterlife and he could stop her from doing any more damage to the hotel and its reputation than necessary to ensure the first thing took place.

"I suppose."

That was exactly what he had been hoping to hear. The first deal had been under her terms. Alastor had been hoodwinked into it, unable to turn it down due to the information on him she had uncovered. Now, the tables had turned. Alastor held his hand out towards her, grinning malevolently.

"How about this, let's make a new one."

"I don't see why not." Y/n shrugged after having thought it over, her hand meeting his, "Things are different, we're both dead. The old one wouldn't really work anymore."

"No, it wouldn't, would it?"

"Yeah so, you get me an angel to test this on. I start participating more in the hotel. Deal?"

"How about this." Alastor's grin widened, his antlers growing as well as his shadows ate away at the room's walls.

Y/n didn't flinch. Nothing in her expression changed save a slight twinge of intrigue as she watched him become more monstrous by the second, more all consuming.

"I help you get an angel. You stick by my side, like the old days. That would include participation in the hotel and all of Charlie's plans as it is where I work for now. A metaphorical taking of a soul rather than a heart, shall we say."

He was counting on her lack of interest in the world outside of science right now, counting on her lack of understanding of how things worked in Hell when an overlord offered a deal like this. He had chosen the words carefully, getting everything right while keeping the truth hidden.

"I'll still have time to work on my project?" she asked skeptically.

"When there is time."

Y/n smiled.

"Deal."

Green smoke wound its way out from the point their palms met. Y/n watched it, eyes wide with intrigue as it curled around them, temporarily filling the room.

"Is that what happens when deals get made in Hell?" Y/n asked as she let go of Alastor's hand.

"Only certain ones."

"Cool."

She got to her feet, snapping her goggles back over her eyes. Turning to the table, she began to fiddle with her test tubes once again. Alastor retook his normal form, watching her with a satisfied smirk. He summoned the chain, feeling the cool shadow of the mellow across his fingers. Y/n seemed not to notice as the collar formed around her neck. Alastor didn't like that, didn't like being ignored. He gave it a tug and she stumbled back a few steps, her hands flying to her throat and her hair catching the glass beaker she had nearly dropped.

Y/n noticed the chain now. It was impossible not to. As her hair set the beaker down, she turned to Alastor, eyes fixed on the glowing metal. Her gaze traced it from where she held it to his hands. Y/n looked up at him.

"What's this?" she asked, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, "When did this get here? How..."

She trailed off and Alastor's smile grew wider still. He advanced towards her, wrapping the excess chain around the handle of his microphone. It clinked menacingly against itself, spawning a sudden deep seated dread in Y/n.

She held her place, her shoulders thrown back and feet planted firmly. Alastor couldn't tell if it was all a show or if she really was not at all scared of him in that moment. He didn't really care, it didn't matter. She stared intently up at him in defiance as Alastor came to a stop about a half a foot away.

"Well?"

"Oh my sweet, you really have no idea what you've gotten yourself in to, do you?"

It was better than he could have hoped, could have dreamed. She was entirely under his control.

"Welcome to the rest of your afterlife."

----

Next Part → Till Death do us Part pt. 3

A/N I wasn't super sure how to end this off, I hope you liked it!!

@marukun @nanami1chu @i-like-potatoes12533 @boogiemansbitch @apenasandorinha @almond-t0fu @mygoldtears @ahellborn @winterisholding @misty-melody @themetalbabygirl @trash-shoot

[genderqueerdykes]

The recent reblog had me wondering something. I can walk fine, and only get out of breath quickly when it's at accelerated paces. But I can not stand for very long without my back really hurting. It is especially hard when I have to wait in line for something, and I end up just having to sit on the floor. But I even struggle when I have to stand doing the dishes and stuff.

Is there anything I could do to make those things easier? Because as far as I know canes are really only for balance. I'm not even sure this counts as an issue, but it doesn't seem to be a problem anyone else in my family has.

I am not really sure if you can suggest anything. But I hope you are having an okay time considering how the world is being. Good day.

good question, thanks for stopping by!

i'm very sorry to hear you're dealing with that, but i understand it. you may be dealing with some lower back issues, which is very common. even people who don't consider themselves disabled deal with very bad lower back problems. i think its largely due to the fact that in modern western society, you're forced to either stand straight up or sit down and not move for many, many hours at a time. humans are not made to sit or stand in one position for extended periods of time. the way our work/school cultures are run is very hard on the human body. sitting for too long can cause all kinds of problems, as the pressure from being upright settles directly in your lower spine and creates unreal amounts of pressure

easily becoming winded can have a lot of causes, one of the most common is anemia (low iron), another very common disorder that causes one to lose their breath very easily is POTS. some gastrointestinal conditions can also cause one to become winded very easily, as can chronic fatigue, and conditions that cause a lot of pain. you're definitely not alone there. if you're able to see a doctor about this, i'd recommend doing so and trying to get whatever tests done you can afford/your insurance will cover, as it can make life very difficult to run out of breath and be in lots of pain just by standing for short intervals.

i use my cane for both balance and pain reasons! having another point of support can help reduce pressure on the lower back. it won't cure back pain, but it can help a lot when it comes to relieving some of the pressure you're feeling, and can be leaned on especially if you find yourself hunching over from the pain. they can help a lot with pain even if they're used for balance by a lot of people!

i find that my rollator walker helps a ton with my lower back pain, as does my wheelchair. my wheelchair has an ergonomic seat made out of heavy duty fabric that is like a hammock/cot that allows my butt and lower back to be suspended and supported, but not SMASHED up against a hard object. the gentle suspension reduces a ton of pain. however, i know not everyone can just go out and get a wheelchair, as they are quite expensive. my rollator walker was given to me by an elderly neighbor who knew i'm disabled, but couldn't fit it in her moving truck and it has helped me a lot. i mean a LOT. i can't take my wheelchair everywhere because of how heavy it is, but i really am in love with how helpful my rollator is

it is a walker that also features a built in seat, so if i need to sit down and take a rest for any reason, i can do so right there! these are still expensive, albeit much, much cheaper than a wheelchair, and can usually be found in pharmacies for sale. however, i understand not wanting to commit to something like that right away, as you're still very early on in figuring out what's going on.

if you're unable to visit a doctor, that's okay. what i can try to recommend is looking up back stretches to try to help with that in the interim while you don't have any mobility aids. stretching helps a lot with back pain, often times, your back is just seized up from overwork and can cause all kinds of other pain and even damage. your back muscles will seize up at times to help support your spine, and when this happens for long periods of time it can cause all kinds of misery and even lasting damage.

if you're unable to get any type of aid, try to plan your routes accordingly to avoid being on your feet for very long periods of time. take breaks when and where needed, even if it's every 5 minutes. you don't have to over exert yourself for anyone else. you're allowed to take as many breaks as you need while traveling. i hope you're able to get some answers for what you're experiencing, and i hope things improve for you soon.

i hope this helped somewhat! feel free to come back any time, good luck!

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XLII.

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Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: Alright I've got no excuse why this is coming out at the end of this week rather than the beginning, all I can tell you is that I now have over a hundred hours on stardew valley so...

previous chapter: Fourty first chapter

next chapter: Fourty third chapter

Masterlist

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“So where exactly would we get those, professor?” You tilted your head and waited for Heimerdinger to answer. The hunt for the elements of the list Ekko gave you turned out to be a slightly more difficult task that you firstly realized, and the fact that Heimerdinger seemed to know even less about the layout of the Undercity that you didn’t really help. “I’ve got no idea, my child, normally I’d stop by a shop in Piltover , but that’s not possible as of right now.” A sigh escaped your lips and you stared at the ground in front of you, trying to think of something, a few ideas coming to mind, but most of them being just a plain waste of time. “Maybe we could ask someone?” You looked around the Zaun street that you found yourself on, searching for someone that looked at least a little friendly, but instead of that, you spotted a group of enforcers making a scene nearby.

“Professor.” His attention shifted to the blue dressed men, one of them pushing a middle aged woman, causing her to fall onto the ground, while the other enforcers argued with some other Undercitians. You looked over to the short wise man, but he was already walking towards the commotion. A scoff came out of your mouth and you followed after him, pulling the hood of your cloak over your head and putting a hand on the gun in your pocket, the same one that helped you blow up Silco’s ship before. “What seems to be the problem gentlemen?” “What’s it to you, scrap?” “Dude, that’s Heimerdinger.”

Heimerdinger talked to the enforcers while you helped the woman stand up again. “Are you okay?” “I’m quite okay, but they took my cane, I can’t see without it.” You froze up a little at the words, before you turned to the enforcers, busy explaining the situation to the professor. Your brows furrowed and your lips turned into a frown. “Give me a second then.” As you approached the ground with a pissed off face, their faces turned to you, you couldn’t see their full expression, since they were wearing some devices to breathe better or something, but you couldn't care less in that moment. “Which one of you took the lady’s cane?”

The consequences of your actions were flashing through your mind, but you reminded yourself that you had Heimerdinger with you and the enforcers respected him a lot. “What did you say?” “They took the lady's cane, she’s blind.” The enforcers exchanged glances and one of them stepped forward. “We’ll return it.” “Oh you better.” You stared straight at the younger male and watched him carefully as he picked up the cane, that was kicked a few paces away and brought it back to the lady, you had no idea how Heimerdinger's sole presence managed to change the whole approach of the enforcers, but you sure did like it. “I apologize.” The male enforcer said to the lady and quickly returned to the rest of the group. “You better not cause more trouble, young ones.” The professor scolded them, or whatever it was that he was going and the enforcers slowly walked away, going on about making everyone's lives more difficult than they already were. The lady approached you, the people that argued with the now leaving enforcers joining her by her side.

“Thank you, how can we repay you?” She said to you, taking you by surprise once more, you stared at her for a few moments, trying to figure out if she was really wanting to offer something to you for helping her, a rare occasion in the Undercity. And also one that played right into your cards. “Actually, there is one thing, is there any chance that any of you might know where I can find a junkyard or something?” The people stayed silent for a second, before one of them spoke up. “There is one not far from here, see that tall old building? Take a right turn when you walk past it and you should be able to get there without a problem.”

[cryptidcircuswrites]

THINGS LEFT UNSAID (I'D RATHER TALK TO YOU)

!- sick fic, self insert, mutual pining, profanity (as usual), tics

AO3

How in the hell did I get this sick? He coughed, shivering feverishly under the blankets. A pale shaky hand snaked toward the nightstand, gripping his water bottle.

Empty.

I should get up and refill it.

But he hurt, and he was exhausted, and it was so cold.

Maybe in a few minutes...

A knock startled him awake. He didn't have time to answer before it opened. He struggled to lift his head to greet the intruder.

"You dying on me, Rogers?"

Toby smiled weakly as Sydney spoke. "Hey, Mossgroes," he murmured as he struggled to sit up. "N-no, not yet-yet. Kinda feels like-like I am." You're as close to heaven as I'll ever see.

"Well, I'm here to end your misery," Sydney says with a flourish of his cane.

"What penis! Guh, I me-mean in what way?"

"Who knows, drink this." A bottle of cough syrup is thrust into Toby's vision. "Maybe it's medicine, maybe it's poison!"

Toby let out a weak laugh that turned into a coughing fit. He gratefully accepted the medicine as Sydney swapped out his water bottle. You really are an angel. "How long is your cock until I die from poisoning?"

"Who knows. Rest up, I can't have you keeling over on me. Nobody else in this shithole to talk to anymore." I love you.

"What, you and Sorrow beefing ag-a gun! again?" Toby's neck jerked hard to the left.

Sydney's jerked in turn, though less violently. "Nah, they're just gone again." Another neck twitch, this one harder. "Something about unfinished business? No idea when they get back."

"I bet you're b-bored, huh? Noth-nothing for you to do-do but twiddle your penis thumbs and twirl your cane-cane?" I hope I don't get you sicker, you don't use the cane unless it really hurts. He coughed again, neck twitching hard to the left. "Eugh.. I feel like shit-shit-shit-shit-fuck-pussy-cunt-ass," he repeats several more swears as the sudden attack goes on.

Sydney ignores it, despite the tics triggering his own. He leaned harder on the cane as a particularly hard jerk caused him to slightly lose balance. "I gotta stop hanging out with you, man," Sydney grumbled. I can't stand to be away for too long.

"Cuz you lo-loooove me. That's why your tics flare around me, we're soul-soulmates or something." Toby's face contorted in a grimace.

"Just lay down, Rogers. You need rest," Sydney dropped the grandiose persona for just a moment before it returned. "Plus if I'm gonna kick your ass at Mario Kart later you have to be alive, you know? I'm sick of talking to the ghosts, it's exhausting." I'd rather talk to you.

Toby took a sip from the water bottle as Sydney complained about the ghosts. "Your dad b-bothering you ag- a gun! again?"

Sydney groaned, flopping back across the foot of Toby's bed dramatically. "Always. I can't even walk into my room without him bothering me, and I have no idea what he wants! No matter how many times I ask it's unclear. But such is the life of a necromancer," he sighed dramatically yet again.

Toby couldn't help but giggle at his friend as he spoke. Sydney knows Toby sleeps easier when he feels like he isn't alone, so he bitched about ghosts and deities and the other unfortunate servants of the Operator until he was certain Toby was asleep.

"Sleep well, Rogers," he whispered as Toby snored, the familiar clack of Sydney's cane receding down the hall. I love you.

[mgarmagedon]

It's one shot time again baby >:3

English:

Magnus walked through the prison corridor. The noise from the echoing cells was overwhelming, and despite them being fully soundproofed, the sight of the highest judge surrounded by inmates in that place caused sheer madness.

Unmoved by it all, Ultra Magnus walked silently, tapping his cane on the ground.

The man didn't have the opportunity to frequent such places outside the court, where he interacted with convicts, but this occasion was exceptional due to one prisoner, the son of his former leader – Bumblebee.

He couldn't believe that it was Bumblebee from all of the people that he needed to ask for help, especially considering how this young man had fallen and become a disgrace to the entire Optimus legend in Ultra Magnus's opinion.

He slowly entered the closed special wing, where prisoners were isolated from the rest, for various reasons, but Bee had been transferred here for the safety of other inmates.

Magnus took a chair standing in front of one of the empty cells, dragged it into one of the dark alcoves, delicately placed it in front of the solitary cell, and sat down slowly. He tossed his coat back, rested his hands and arms on the cane, looking into the dark cell.

A quiet cough to draw attention, hoping for something to finally happen in the dark cell illuminated only by blue floor lamps.

He could hear a faint rumble from the cell, reacting to the man's presence. This sound was followed by another – the shooting of the spine, getting up from the prison cot, and the quiet sliding of headphones from his head to the ground. Slowly and lazily, the dark figure stood up, concluding the entire procedure with a loud yawn and a scratch on the lower part of his back.

"Maybe you could show some manners in front of others," he remarked, looking at the dark figure. "Such unscrupulous behavior doesn't suit you, especially."

The figure in the darkness hunched slightly and sighed quietly. The man in the shadows approached the bluish glow.

"Do you care that much about my behavior, since when? Since the day you spat in Ratchet's face, blaming him for my whole behavior?" he crossed his arms.

The man standing before the barrier, who was shorter than Ultra Magnus, wore an orange jumpsuit, dirty from sweat and slightly torn, with food stains. His hairstyle was a messy mass of brown strands going in all directions. He wore no shoes, only socks with a hole through which a toe protruded. Due to a lack of care, he had grown a beard, and his previously well-toned figure had given way to a slightly protruding stomach.

Ultra Magnus scrutinized Bumblebee, who lost his touch since he got into prison.

"I see you haven't spared yourself during your time here," he said, despite the sarcasm, in a cold and serious tone, to the point that he meant it literally.

"And what about you? Is the cane and glasses a new thing to make you seem more dignified, or are you slowly deteriorating?"

"Without malice, Bumblebee, considering who you're still talking to, I can submit a request to extend your sentence for insulting a public servant of my high rank."

"Just tell me what you want from me? If it's about any capabilities to fight or lead, Arcee has all the qualifications to do it better and faster than me!"

The gray-haired man simply sighed at Bee's words and shook his head disapprovingly.

"If I could, I would have done it long ago. Currently, your sister is busy as she holds a higher position in the Senate."

"Even better," he scoffed at the news, behaving like an offended little child.

"Anyway," Magnus cleared his throat to interrupt Bee, "I come to you today with a kind of proposition that I rarely apply..." He struggled to get it through his pride. "Due to the fact that you are a trained soldier, an excellent agent, ready for any possible situation, where we need people like you the most in these times. I want to give you the opportunity for rehabilitation through community service. By fulfilling them satisfactorily, you would repay your social debt and become a free man again."

"Do you really want to release me so easily?" Shocked by the older man's words, Bee widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows.

"Unfortunately, I have to..." he hissed through his teeth.

Bee grabbed his chin and pondered intensely over Magnus's words.

"And what exactly does this 'community service' entail?" Bumblebee crossed his arms again, looking into the eyes of the graying man on the chair.

"Something simple, where you'll have to communicate with young people and teach others your naturally acquired knowledge from the battlefield. You shouldn't have a big problem with that. Of course, we'll hire you in the central police station as a lieutenant for a while so you can get the necessary permissions."

"Wait," the man in the cell stopped him. "What do you mean by 'communicating with young people and teaching others my knowledge'?"

This was a question that Magnus wanted to avoid as much as possible.

"To teach my daughter a few skills. She has great potential and amazing abilities, but due to recent events, I realized that she doesn't cope well in the real world. With her knowledge and your skills, she would quickly learn how to function in real society, not just in theoretical situations. Besides... She needs to spend some more time with someone she won't take such an example from, like you." 

The words spoken by the black man only disgusted Bee. He couldn't believe what Ultra Magnus was proposing to him. He approached the barrier separating him from Magnus, looked him straight in the eyes, and furrowed his brow.

"Are you mocking me?" He chuckled slightly in anger. "Now I have to take care of your brat, which you accidentally made, and you don't even want to take care of her yourself? Just because you think you're doing me a favor now by offering me to become a nanny for my own freedom? I have no idea what Optimus saw in you appointing you as his right hand; you're a messed-up piece of shit. Not to mention what state you've brought Cybertron to with your 'great council' after the war." He said mockingly. "Let me tell you one thing, Magnus, I'm NOT SUITABLE for taking responsibility for anything. Look at the state I've brought myself to! It's a miracle I haven't died in some ditch, becoming an anonymous corpse of some hobo, like every war veteran lately. And now, find yourself a better sucker! I don't know, maybe Bulkhead is free, or convince your ass-kisser Smokescreen. He'll surely agree, after sucking your dick for almost 10 years to get to a good position."

Bee turned on his heel and disappeared in the semi-darkness of the cell, lying on his cot with his face to the wall. Just so Ultra Magnus would finally leave him alone. He grumbled something under his breath. The older man just stood up, took the chair under his arm.

"I got the message. Well then, I guess Ratchet won't be able to see you anytime soon." He began to walk away slowly.

Bee moved towards the barrier at Magnus's words, pressing against it with all his might.

"What do you mean by 'meet'?" he shouted in his direction. 

"I intended to let you meet your father shortly after joining your service as a reward for your conduct. It's amazing how your family misses you, even Arcee and that con, Knock Out, are asking about you. After all, for the first time in a long time, they all know where you are, and that you are safe."

"Do you really think attempting to force me to become your lackey will accomplish anything? They don't need me, and everyone knows it well. I'm just garbage in their eyes and in the eyes of the whole society! Stop, just... I..." he rubbed his face with his hand. He sighed loudly; his head was already a mess from this conversation.

He didn't know what to say or do anymore. He also missed everyone, but he sincerely believed he was just a burden that had to be dragged along. He kept telling himself that he was a failure and the reason for all the misfortune in his and others' lives. Now he was wrestling with himself, and didn't want to sell himself so easily to Magnus, on the other hand, it sounded so easy to be free again and escape far from here once again. 'But does it make any sense at this point?' he asked himself this question, slowly bending down to the ground to sit crouched. Clutching himself as much as he could, he hid his head between his knees.

"So what's your final decision?" Magnus after he came back to Bee, raised an eyebrow standing in front of Bee. "This is not the time for such behavior; just say yes or no."

Bee froze in this position for a moment, unable to utter a single word because with every scream thrown into the space of his mind, tears were gathering in his eyes.

"Will it make anything better at all?" he said, staying in his crouched position.

"You'll have a chance to finally stabilize and perhaps change your life for the better," Magnus stared blankly into the space in front of him, noticing how Bee's cell was neglected.

Torn papers were scattered everywhere, and the photos attached to the wall had strings made of shoelaces connecting them. Clean clothes were piled under his cot in an indeterminate mass, remaining untouched for a while. On Bumblebee's bed, there was a discman covered with slightly yellowed stickers.

"When should it start?" the brunette whispered. "In about 3 months, the new semester will begin at the academy, and that's when I plan to take my daughter, Strongarm, for homeschooling, which you will take care of. Of course, I'll take care of your repair, medical care, and psychiatrist. I'll also make sure you return to your prime form by then," he cast his gaze back on Bee, slowly getting up from the ground. "I understand that this is your consent, Bumblebee."

"I guess so..." he replied uncertainty. 

"Great. In a week, my secretary will come with documents for you to sign." he walked away with the chair under his arm, leaving Bee without further explanations.

Bee was left alone, shaken by the whole situation, not knowing what to do and why such situations only happened to him. He lay down again on his cot, put on his headphones, and immersed himself again in his world of music

Polish:

Magnus szedł przez korytarz więzienny. Szum z unoszących się cel był wszechmogący i mimo tego że cele były w pełni wyciszone, widok sędzi najwyższego zbiorem zamkniętym w tamtym przybytku powodowało czyste szaleństwo. 

Ultra Magnus niewzruszony tym wszystkim cicho szedł przed siebie postukując swoją laską o ziemię. 

Mężczyzna nie miał okazji zbyt często przebywać w tych samych przybytkach poza sądem, gdzie widział się ze skazanymi, ale ta okazja była wyjątkowa, z powodu jednego więźnia, którym był syn jego byłego przywódcy- Bumblebee.

Sam nie był w stanie uwierzyć, że był skazany na taki, a nie inny wybór, zwłaszcza przez to jak stoczył się ten chłopak i stał się wstydem dla całej legendy Optimusa zdaniem Ultra Magnusa.

Powoli wszedł do zamkniętego skrzydła specjalnego, gdzie więźniowie byli odizolowani od reszty przybytku, z wszelakich powodów, ale w tym został tutaj przeniesiony dla bezpieczeństwa innych więźniów.

Magnus wziął krzesło stojące przed jedną z pustych cel i zaciągnął je w jedno z ciemnych rozgałęzień. Po czym delikatnie je ustawił przed jedyną celą i usiadł powoli, zarzucając swój płaszcz do tyłu, a swoje ręce i ramiona oparł o laskę patrząc w głąb ciemnej celi.

Cicho kaszlnął by zwrócić na siebie uwagę, by coś się w końcu wydarzyło w ciemnej celi, podświetlanej jedynie niebieskimi lampami przy podłodze. 

Można było usłyszeć cichy pomruk unoszący się celi, reagujący na obecność mężczyzny. Tym dźwięku nastąpił kolejny- strzelania kości, przez wstawanie z więziennej pryczy i cichego zsunięcia słuchawek z jego głowy na ziemię. Powoli i leniwie czarna postura wstała, kończąc tą całą procedurę głośnym ziewnięciem na koniec i podrapaniem się po dolnej partii pleców.

- Może zachowałbyś trochę kultury przy innych.- stwierdził patrząc na czarną posturę mężczyzny.- Takie bezpruderyjne zachowanie nie przystoi zwłaszcza tobie.

Postura w ciemności jedynie jedynie nieco zgarbił i cicho westchnął. Mężczyzną w cieniu podszedł do promieniującej na niebiesko.

- Aż tak ci zależy na moim zachowaniu, od kiedy? Od wtedy kiedy splunąłeś w twarz Ratchetowi, że to jego wina i jestem wstydem dla Optimusa i niego? - skrzyżował ręce.

Mężczyzna stojący przed barierą, był niższy od Ultra Magnusa i był w pomarańczowym stroju, brudnym od potu i nieco podartym, posiadającym plamy od jedzenia. Jego fryzura za to była tylko rozczochraną masą brązowych pasm włosów, które niezgrabnie rozchodziły się we wszystkie strony. Nie nosił żadnego obuwia, jedynie skarpetki z jedną dziurą przez którą wystawał palec. Brunetowi przez brak ochoty na większe dbanie o siebie urósł zarost. A jego ówcześnie wysportowana sylwetka oklapła i zastąpił ją delikatnie wystający brzuch.

Ultra Magnus dokładnie przyjrzał się Bumblebee, który wyszedł z formy przez zastanie i ogólny brak woli do robienia czegokolwiek.

- Widzę, że się nie oszczędzałeś przez ostatnie lata pobyty tutaj.- Mimo, że jego wypowiedź była sarkastyczna, powiedział zimnym i poważnie, do stopnia, że mówił to dosłownie.

- Ty chyba też? Ta laska i okulary to nowa, rzecz która ma ci dodawać powagi i respektu czy już powoli niedomagasz? 

- Bez złośliwości Bumblebee, widz z kim nadal rozmawiasz, mogę dodać wniosek o wydłużenie ci wyroku za obrazę funkcjonariusza publicznego tak wysokiego stopnia jak mój.

- Powiedz mi po prostu czego chcesz ode mnie? Bo jeśli chodzi o jakiekolwiek możliwości do walki lub by coś poprowadzić, ona ma wszystkie predyspozycje by zrobić to lepiej i szybciej ode mnie!

Siwy mężczyzna jedynie westchnął na słowa Bee i pokiwał głową z dezaprobatą. 

- Gdybym mógł to bym dawno to zrobił. Aktualnie twoją siostra jest zajęta, bo obejmuje wyższe stanowisko w senacie-

- Jeszcze lepiej.-prychnął na tą wiadomość, zachowując się jak obrażone małe dziecko.

- Wracając.- odchrząknął by przerwać Bee.- Przychodzę dzisiaj do ciebie z pewnego rodzaju propozycją, której nie stosuje prawie nigdy...- ciężko mu przez jego dumę przechodzi to przez gardło.- Z powodu dlatego iż jestem wyszkolonym żołnierzem, świetnym agentem, gotowy na wszelkie możliwe sytuację, gdzie potrzebujemy takich ludzi jak ty najbardziej w tych czasach. Chcę ci dać możliwość na rehabilitację swoich czynów poprzez pracę społeczne, dzięki którym po wypełnieniu ich w satysfakcjonujący sposób, spłacił byś swój dług społeczny i byłbyś spowrotem wolnym człowiekiem.

- Naprawdę chcesz mnie tak łatwo wypuścić?- zszokowany na słowa starszego mężczyzny, Bee zrobił duże oczy i podniósł brwi.

- Niestety muszę...-wysyczał przez zęby cicho.

Bee chwycił się za brodę i zaczął się intensywnie zastanawiać nad słowamis Magnusa. 

- A na czym mają polegać te "pracę społeczne"?- Bumblebee ponownie skrzyżował ręce i spojrzał w oczy siwiejącego mężczyźnie na krześle.

- Coś prostego, do czego będziesz musiał komunikować się z młodzieżą i jedynie uczyć innych swojej naturalnie nabytej wiedzy z pola walki. Nie powinieneś mieć z tym większego problemu, oczywiście przez to zatrudnimy cię tam jako porucznika na jakiś czas, byś dostał potrzebne pozwolenia-

- Poczekaj.- zatrzymał go mężczyzna w celi.- Co masz na myśli przez "komunikację z młodzieżą i uczenie innych mojej wiedzy"? 

To pytanie, które Magnus chciał ominąć jak najszerszym łukiem. Aczkolwiek również nie zamierzał go w tym temacie okładamć, bardziej uniknąć tego szczegółu. 

- Uczyć moją córkę fachu. Ma wielki potencjał i niesamowite zdolności, ale przez ostatnie wydarzenia, zrozumiałem, że nie zbyt dobrze sobie radzi w prawdziwym świecie. A z jej wiedzą i twoimi umiejętnościami, szybko by się nauczyła jak funkcjonować w prawdziwym społeczeństwie, a nie teoretycznych sytuacjach. Poza tym... Musi trochę pospędzać więcej czasu z kimś z kogo nie będzie brać takiego przykładu, przez jak skończyłeś.- słowa wypowiadane przez czarnoskórego mężczyznę, jedynie zniesmaczyły Bee.

Bee nie mógł uwierzyć w to co mu proponuję Ultra Magnus. Podszedł bliżej do bariery oddzielającej go od niego. Spojrzał mu prosto w oczy i zmarszczył brwi.

- Kpisz sobie ze mnie?- zaśmiał się lekko w złości.- Teraz mam jeszcze zajmować się twoim bachorem, którego sobie zrobiłeś przez przypadek I nawet nie chce ci się nią zajmować? Tylko dlatego, że myślisz, że robisz mi teraz Primus wie jaką łaskę proponuj��c mi zostanie niańką za własną wolność? Nie mam pojęcia co w tobie widział Optimus mianując cię swoją prawą ręką, jesteś skurwiałym śmieciem. Nie mówiąc już do jakiego stanu doprowadziłeś Cybetron po wojnie s "wszechwspaniałą radą".- powiedział to kpiąco.- Powiem ci jedno Magnus, ja się NIE NADAJE na branie odpowiedzialności za cokolwiek, spójrz do jakiego stanu się dopuściłem! Cud, że jeszcze nie umarłem w jakimś rowie, zostając bezimiennym truchłem jakiegoś żula, jak każdy weteran wojenny ostatnio. A teraz znajdź sobie lepszego frajera! Nie wiem może Bulkhead jest wolny albo weź zmuś do tego swojego lizodupca- Smokescreena. On na pewno się na to zgodzi, w końcu od prawie 10 lat ssie ci pałę, by dość do dobrego stanowiska.

Bee odwrócił się na pięcie i zniknął w półmroku celi, kładąc się na swoją pryczę twarzą do ściany. Tak by w końcu Ultra Magnus dał mu święty spokój. Burczał coś sobie pod nosem. A starszy mężczyzna jedynie wstał i wziął krzesło pod pachę.

- Zrozumiałem ten przekaz. W takim razie, chyba Ratchet nie będzie się w stanie z tobą zobaczyć w najbliższym czasie.- zaczął powoli odchodzić.

Bee ruszył do bariery na te słowa Magnusa. Przycisnął się do niej z całej siły.

- Co masz na myśli spotkać się?-wykrzyczał w jego stronę.

- Miałem zamiar cię puścić na spotkanie z twoim ojcem w niedługim czasie po przystąpieniu do twojej służby jako nagrodę za Twoje sprawowanie. To zadziwiające jak twoją rodzina za tobą tęskni, nawet Arcee i ten con- Knock Out się o ciebie dopominają. W końcu pierwszy raz od dawna wiadomo chociaż gdzie jesteś i że jesteś chociaż tutaj bezpieczny.

- Serio myślisz, że próba wymuszenia na mnie zostania twoim sługuskiem coś da? Oni mnie nie potrzebują i wszyscy o tym dobrze wiedzą. Jestem zwykłym śmieciem w ich oczach jak i całego społeczeństwa! Przestań, po prostu... ja...- przetarł swoją dłonią twarz. Głośno westchnął mają już mentlik w głowie przez tą rozmowę. 

Nie wiedział już co ma powiedzieć, ani co robić. On również tęskniłem za każdym, ale szczerze wierzył, że jest jedynie męczącym workiem mięsa który trzeba za sobą ciągnąć. Ciągle sobie powtarzał w głowie, że jest nieudacznikiem i to on jest powodem wszystkich nieszczęście w jego i innych życiach. Sam się teraz gryzł ze samym sobą, nie chciał się tak łatwo sprzedać Magnusowi, z drugiej strony, brzmiało to bardzo łatwo by znowu być wolnym i uciec daleko stąd ponownie 'ale czy to ma już jakikolwiek sens w tym momencie?', sam sobie zadawał to pytanie, powoli schylając się ku ziemi by usiąść skulonemu. Ściskając się jak najbardziej tylko mógł, ukryła głowę między kolanami.

- To jaka jest w końcu twoją finalna decyzja?- Magnus podniósł jedną brew stając przed Bee.- To nie czas na takie zachowanie, powiedz po prostu tak czy nie.

Bee zastygł w tej pozycji na chwilę, nie potrafiąc wypowiedzieć jednego słowa, bo za każdym okrzykiem wyrzuconym w przestrzeń jego umysłu, zbierało mu się na łzy. 

- A czy to jakkolwiek sprawi, że będzie lepiej...?- powiedział to zostając w swojej skulonej pozycji.

- Będziesz miał szansę w końcu się ustabilizować i być może zmienić swoje życie na lepsze.- Magnus patrzył pusto w przestrzeń przed nim, zauważając jak cela Bee jest zaniedbana.

Wszędzie leżały poszarpane papiery, a zdjęcia przylepione do ściany, miały że sobą powiązane sznurki zrobione że sznurówek. Czyste ubrania były ubite pod jego pryczą w jedną nieokreśloną masę i pozostając nieruszone od dłuższego czasu. Za to na pryczy Bumblebee leżał discman obklejony nieco przyżółkłymi naklejkami. 

- Kiedy by miało się to zacząć...?- szepnął brunet.

- Za około 3 miesiąc zaczną się nowy semestr, w akademii, wtedy właśnie zamierzam zabrać moją córkę- Strongarm na nauczanie domowe, którym ty się zajmiesz. Oczywiście zajmę się twoim zakwaterowaniem, lekarzem i psychiatrą. Również zadbam o to byś do tego czasu wrócił do swojej najwyższej formy.- zarzucił swój wzrok znowu na Bee powoli wstającym z gleby.- Rozumiem, że to twoja zgoda Bumblebee.

- Tak sądzę, że tak...?- odpowiedział niepewnie.

- Świetnie. Za tydzień moja sekretarka przyjdzie z dokumentami dla ciebie do podpisu.- odszedł z krzesłem podpachą, zostawiając Bee bez większych wyjaśnień.

Bee został sam w jednej chwili roztrzęsiony całą tą sytuacją, nie wiedząc co zrobić i czemu takie sytuacje tylko mu się przytrafiają, położył się znowu na swojej pryczy, założył słuchawki i oddał się ponownie w swój świat muzyki.

[fandomworld9728]

The King & Queen of Hell Chapter 4:

"Adam!~" Running over to his husband, Lucifer threw his arms around his neck and showered his face in kisses.

Chuckling, Adam wrapped an arm around his Queen's waist and lifted him up to sit on his arm. "Hello, love. Same pronouns today?"

"Yes. Thank you for asking."

"I see that the rumors are true. Our dear King and Queen are sickeningly loving."

Fixing the sinner now in front of them, Adam felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. This guy had power just oozing out of him. "And you are?"

"Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sire, quite a pleasure."

"He's helping Charlie with her hotel."

"Oh fuck. Really? That's awesome man."

"Yes... quite. Charlie is such a delightful young lady, and your spouse is such an excellent host. You are a very lucky man." He wasn't just trying to be polite or trying to sweet talk the two. Alastor had no idea how such a man could charm the angelic creature that was Hell's Queen. The very reason for humanity's free will. Very lucky man, indeed.

"You got that right."

"Adam. At least try to be humble?" Lucifer teased his husband. People were always confused how the two most prideful people in all of creation could stand to be married to each other. It was often that their egos would lead to fights and their stubbornness would drag them out for days, sometimes even weeks, before they found a way to compromise or find a victor.

But that's what made it fun! They loved and trusted each other for all their positive and negative traits. At the end of the day, they were silly fights that never truly mattered that always seemed to end up as a game. To see who would yield first.

"Sorry, love. I don't know what that word means."

"Perhaps a dictionary would make a fine gift for his majesty? Ha!" A laugh track played from the sinner, momentarily spooking the first man and causing the fallen angel to try and find his laughter behind a dainty hand.

"...You're pretty funny Albert-"

"Alastor, dear."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"I'm supposed to be the one who's bad with names." Turning his attention back to the radio demon, Lucifer was still all smiles. "That was a rather ballsy move there. Insulting your King disguised as a joke."

"I figured it was worth a shot. I do love a good joke and as you said before. What is life, even an afterlife, without whimsy?"

"Nope! This meeting is over. We didn't even get anything important done!" Quickly walking out of the meeting room, Charlie started to pull guide Alastor out the front door by his cane.

"But Charlie-"

"I'm already running late for my meeting with Lilith!"

"Are you two going to stop her?"

Watching their darling daughter leave, Lucifer couldn't be prouder about how far she's come from being a push over. "Leave her be. She's been busy and stressed with worrying about her hotel and the Exterminations. If she can prove this works, there's a chance that they'll call off the yearly attacks. She's putting all of this on herself... but we'll be here when she's ready for our help."

~

Walking up to the Heavenly Embassy, Alastor couldn't keep his curiosity to himself anymore. "Charolette, why is it that you failed to tell us of your royal lineage?"

Hand on the door's handle to open it, the princess froze. Shit! This is why she wanted to go alone. She didn't need everyone finding out and treating her different. Charlie didn't need to try and live up to their exceptions too. If her friends knew, would they think she wasn't a good heir like the rest of people who knew? Would she let them down-

"That is not something you should hide, my dear." Opening the door, he ushered her inside and walked with her to the front desk. "The heir to Hell's throne saving wayward sinners and wanting the best for them! While your bleeding heart may be a weakness to most, it can also be your greatest strength. I've seen how protective you can be and that's where your power lays."

"That's... what my family always tells me." Taking a moment to think, Charlie signed them both in. Alastor had already figured out who she was so there was no harm in him sitting in on the meeting.

"Then show all of Hell who you are and what you're made of, my dear. Use every advantage you have to succeed."

"Yeah.... yeah! I'll show them all!" She felt much more confident than she had that morning. A new energy filled the princess as she and Alastor stepped into the meeting room. "Let's get this shit done!" 

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[singsongraptor]

Why does everything have to hurt and be so damn difficult. I just wanted to clean my fucking house, but standing to wash dishes hurts and I don't have anything tall enough to sit on to make it comfortable and easy.

Bending at the waist, not even a full bend, only for a few minutes, hurt me so bad that my eyes were watering as I desperately hobbled up the steps to my wheelchair. Crouching also hurts! And hurts more of me! Though let's not ignore the nerve pain caused by bending at the waist all the way to my damn toes.

How do I avoid these things when my wheelchair is barely useable on my ground floor? When I can't get it out the house to use outside? When I have to climb stairs everyday? When the sidewalks are busted and covered in dog shit and blocked by bushes, construction and garbage cans and bikes and and and?

When the nearest transit route is barely accessible to my cane and rollator and cannot be boarded by anybody that can't climb steps and there's no other option to go down the main road I need on a regular basis? What do I do? I cannot just stay home. I can't afford taxis and rideshare.

What do I do? I can't drive either!

I just wanted to clean! And now I'm stuck in agonizing pain and all my fun stuff is upstairs! The AC is upstairs! I guess it's a good thing my new fan came and it wasn't too heavy and I have it set up because otherwise I'd be stuck without any ventilation or cooling!

I just wanted to fucking clean!

My doctors don't even care enough to diagnose me, much less provide me pain care! Someone tell me what's wrong with my fucking muscles and nerves! Tell me what's wrong with my joints and ligaments! Something is wrong and nobody cares and I'm trapped by insurance bureaucracy and poverty with racist, sexist, fatphobic, saneist assholes!

All I wanted to do was clean. I couldn't even go to my most recent doctor's appointment because the thought of navigating an hour on public transit without my wheelchair in the exhausted state I was in filled me with despair. I haven't seen my neurologist in over a year because she does not fucking care and actively sabotaged my visit with a new neurologist who was a condescending coward.

What do I do? How do I accommodate this? I just wanted to clean

[myjugglers]

DOCTOR/SCIENTIST OC!!

She has always been a calm and straightforward woman throughout her life, she was once training to be a doctor for 7 years and she made it. But she doesn't feel like she's being seen enough and she hates being off her feet so she went up for another job, a Biologist. Some must've saw her as hardworking or just straight up crazy and all she thought was "Why should I care on what people think when I barely know them and they barely knew me?"

Those are the lines she grew up with since she was a teen, she used to be highly insecure on how she looks, smells and dressed since grade 1 to grade 9. But she stopped those thoughts cause why think that if it or is not true, plus why would people in school talk about her when they barely knew her? So she kept that line all the way to now, her now being 28, a intelligent, wealthy and healthy woman who isn't tied down by a man or woman. Who lives in a normal house in a pretty normal neighborhood, she had all the money to buy a mansion for herself but why buy one for one person?

She thought it was useless, she'll die always or someone might get her fired and how the hell would she still pay rent for a large ass house when there's one person there? Yeah she'll rather not risk that.

Although she still does overthink ever since she was a kid, still quiet too

..

So here she is, on her 5 minute break and standing outside the large and busy hospital, inhaling deeply then exhaled. Looking up at the dark sky, no stars since this is a large city she's in, the city lights overpower the stars vibrant glow..and the city smells like ass too

She never smoked, drinked or had sex at all and she did tell that to an old married couple that came here since the husband feel down some stairs and broke his ankle. And the old woman was shocked by that

"A stunning and intelligent woman like you? Absolutely no husband or kids, not even a one nightstand? That is absurd!" The elderly woman gasped, sitting next to her sleeping husband on the hospital bed

"Yeah..kinda..shocking?"

"Oh you will change your mind one day, you'll see what it'll be like being a mother and a wife!" The older woman chuckled softly

She hummed, leaning against the brick wall just behind the hospital building "Change my mind huh?..I hate it when others bring that up.." She whispered while reminding the previous conversation she had with the elderly woman

Suddenly she was pulled from her thoughts, looking down at her wristwatch going off. Groaning softly as she pulled herself off from leaning on the wall and right as she was about to turn around. She saw something off in the distant, squinting but soon shrugged it off and entered through the back door of the hospital building.

..

Entering the surgery room, scrubbing in early then slid on gloves on and entered the room. Others won't there yet and she was disappointed by that, so here she is talking to the patient and decided to give the patient anesthesia early so its..easier?

So now her and others are, cutting up a patient and doing a kidney transplant

Suddenly she saw something in the corner of her eye and looked over there just to see what it is. Freezing as she saw that fucken thing again, that bald headed dickhead following her at work. Then..everything went hazy..she couldn't remember what's happening or going on

..After she got out of her hypnotic daze and cane back to reality, blinking a few times and hearing her apprentices yell and scream, freaking out

Having a confused look in her eyes as she looked around then finally looked down at the patient to see that she stopped him multiple times to the upper torso, freaking herself out and told a few steps back

Looking down at her bloody gloves then over at the others and yelled "What the fuck happened?!"

"I..I, you-you were being a fucken psycho that's what!!" a young man yelled, nervous

"You..you just started to stab the patient with the scalpel.." another one spoke up and explained, a young woman

Without thought, she ran out the room and down the hallway with a panicked and guilty look, once seeing the exit, she sped up her running and she never stopped till she is hiding in the woods

Hearing police sirens far off into the distant, but she didn't care since she's still in a panic frenzy and gasping for air. Hands on her knees as she closed her eyes then reached one hand out and tugged off the surgical mask that had small amount of blood splattered across it

Thinking to herself as she sat down on the grass, rocking back and forth while hugging herself "What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't have mental disorders and my sleep schedule is pretty normal..!"

Scratching at her arm and subconsciously picking at it out of nervousness and anxiety, muttering a 'I'm average..I'm normal' to herself

Then tensed up when feeling a cold and heavy hand on her shoulder, looking behind her and freaked out to see the same fucken thing again!

"Hello dear, you look distressed. Need help?" It asked through telepathically while holding a hand out for the woman

"Fuck off!" She screamed out of horror and anger, sitting up and backing away immediately, slapping the things hand away

"Hm.." It hummed, standing to its full height. 10 feet tall then it continued "Well no choice, I am helping you."

He reached out and grabbed the woman by the back of her coat like some sort of kitten and teleported in front of a somewhat ruined mansion

END

[rainbowsalt0412]

Osamu Dazai And The Dark Era - Chapter 3

It had been raining that day. I was sitting. Time slowly, indistinctly passed by, and all sound was drowned out by the vague noise of falling rain. The world itself felt like an apparition. The rain poured down before my eyes at a slant, drenching the scenery and turning everything blue. Fog mixed with ocean mist intertwined with the downpour. The wet landscape and I sat face-to-face, though separated by glass.

I was fourteen years old at the time. I'd been at a café reading a book— an old book. The cover's corners were worn down, and a part of it was torn. The print was old, with some letters faded here and there. I'd found this book after a hit and brought it back with me, since the owner wouldn't be needing it anymore. I turned the pages.

I was a much simpler person at age fourteen. I'd been working as a freelance hit man doing contract assassinations, and not once did I ever fail. The wealthy original owner of this book along with his family were mere stains on the wall at that point. I could no longer remember why I brought this book back with me. Something about it—something slight—had just stuck in the back of my mind. I didn't have a habit of reading books at that stage in my life, but this one was different. It was an old novel. The story took place in a certain town, and it was about a myriad of characters. All the characters, though, were weak and pitiful—even the smallest things caused them panic. But mysteriously enough, it was a very engaging story.

After work, I always went to the same café and sat in the same seat to read this novel. It had become a daily routine, which was why I'd read that book so many times. I was reading it that day, too.

"You're always reading that same book, boy. Is it really that interesting?"

I looked up in the direction of the sudden voice.

Standing before me, straight as a ramrod, was a lanky middle-aged man with a cane and a short mustache that accentuated his faint smile. I'd seen him a few times at this café before. When I told him it was a good book, he looked at me curiously.

"You're a strange lad. There are plenty of stories out in this world that are much more interesting than that novel."

I stared at the man without saying a word. To tell the truth, I didn't even know how to explain to someone why I read this book so often.

"Where's the last volume?"

I looked at the stack on the table where the first two books lay. There was one major drawback about this novel: I had found only the first two volumes. Therefore, I had no idea how the story concluded. I went to every possible used bookstore I could come by, but I still couldn't find the final volume. I told the man I didn't own it.

"Now it makes sense. You're a lucky kid. The last volume to that series is the worst of the worst. It's so bad that you'll want to wash out your brain once you've finished it. Be happy with just the first two volumes. It's for your own good."

I told him I couldn't do that.

"Then you write what happens next," the man with the mustache said. "That's the only way to preserve its perfection."

I was dumbfounded. I'd never even thought about writing something myself.

"Writing novels is writing people," the man said. "It's about how they live and how they die. From what I can see, you're perfectly qualified."

I couldn't say a word. I didn't feel I had the qualifications he claimed; that day, I had just gotten back from murdering yet another person for work.

But there was something oddly persuasive about what that man said. It was as if brilliant radiance from light-years away glittered in his eyes, and there was a certain firmness to his voice that seemed powerful enough to shake the earth itself. I'd never seen such a person before.

When I'd asked him his name, he had told me, but I'd long since forgotten it.

A few days later, I went back to the café at the same time to find a book lying in my usual seat. Stuck to the cover was a piece of paper that read, "Don't blame me if you regret it."

It was the last volume.

I spent the entire day reading that book. As for what I thought of it—

***

I opened my eyes to find myself in bed. Both my hands were wrapped in bandages.

When I sat up, the pain in my back from my close encounter with the explosion returned. I let out a moan.

I was in a hospital room. It was clean, ordinary, and as silent as a morgue. Standing firm with his feet apart by the door was a man in a black suit and sunglasses. The moment our eyes met, he silently left, apparently to go get someone.

"Hey, Odasaku. You're awake now, right? How are you feeling?" Dazai walked into the room with a cheerful smirk.

"I feel like I've been hit with the next fifty years' worth of hangovers," I replied, then looked around the room. "Did you find Ango?"

"No, my men only found you lying on the ground. They didn't see any sign of the enemy, not even so much as a shadow. Akutagawa was really frustrated that he couldn't 'Execute the traitor.' ...Anyway, Ango really was there, huh?"

I explained everything that happened at the abandoned building, telling him every little detail as it had really occurred.

"Ango's captivity, the explosion, André Gide, and the Special Forces dressed in black..."

Dazai placed a thumb against his lips, then shifted into a thinking position. He didn't even move an inch for a full minute after that. Only his eyes wavered, following something only he could see. I waited in silence.

"Things can be mainly classified into two phenomena here." Dazai finally spoke up. "One is the criminal syndicate Mimic's attack. The other is Ango and the Special Forces' secret maneuvers."

"Are the Special Forces and Mimic different organizations?"

"They are. To be a little more specific, this huge dispute is due to three forces coming together: the Mafia, Mimic, and the Special Forces. But we can ignore the last one for now. It's Mimic we need to watch out for. While you were sleeping, six shops on Mafia turf were blown up...all at the same time. The casualties are increasing by the minute."

Along with smuggling and trading stolen goods, the Mafia protected shops and companies in exchange for compensation. If those businesses were attacked, then the Mafia instantly lost its supporters' trust along with some of its economic infrastructure. I suddenly thought of Pops at the restaurant. That place was one of the few I managed.

"But the smaller stores are being saved for later, it seems." Dazai must have read my mind.

"Mimic is like nothing we've faced so far. They're terribly quick, their attacks are devastating, and they show up without even making a sound. Even if we wanted to attack their headquarters, they appear out of nowhere and disappear into thin air. There's no way to take them by surprise. It's asifwe're fightingagainst ghosts—against real grau geists."

I thought back to the sniper and the abandoned building where Ango had been held captive. There really was something ghostlike about their existence.

A ghost squad—departed souls that wished to devour even the corrupt Mafia's spirit.

"We still can't determine a definite pattern of attack, but what we do know is that they're serious about leveling the Mafia's turf. Not even the tormented souls of hell would do something so mad. Akutagawa and other militant factions have formed ranks and are fighting back, but...we still don't even know the enemy leader's skill. We're at a disadvantage."

"That skill user Akutagawa was one of your subordinates, right?" I said, tracing my memory. "I heard he had a rather aggressive skill...but even he's no match for them?"

"Akutagawa—he's like a sword without a sheath." Dazai grinned from ear to ear. "He'll surely become the Mafia's strongest skill user in the not- so-distant future, but for now he needs someone who can teach him how to put that sword away."

I was surprised. I had never heard Dazai openly speak so highly of one of his men like that before.

"Is he really that talented?"

"When I first saw him over in the slums, I was horrified. His talents are extraordinary, and his skill is extremely destructive. Plus, he's stubborn. If I'd left him to his own devices, he would've ended up a slave to his own powers until he destroyed himself."

Dazai didn't freely make people work under him, period; much less a boy on the verge of starvation in the slums. But Dazai seemed to have his own reasons for doing it.

"At any rate, back on topic, Mimic is who we currently have to watch out for. There's been a call for a meeting among the five executives where we'll discuss how to take them on using everything we've got. We're on high alert."

This presidium was an extremely powerful legislative conference that would decide the future course of the entire Mafia. As far as I could remember, the last time they had one was during the Dragon's Head Conflict. I was once again face-to-face with just how much of a threat Mimic was.

"I still don't know what those Special Forces are after," Dazai continued. "But after seeing what they did to you, it looks like they won't be baring their fangs and attacking us anytime soon. It's Mimic that's the real threat. Just a little while ago, my men, including Akutagawa, were ambushed. It was like a beast devouring a venomous snake. The battle took place on the main road in front of the art museum—"

I got out of the bed as I listened. My fingers were still slightly numb, but not enough to bother me during battle.

"Odasaku, don't tell me you plan on going," he said as if reprimanding me.

"The Mafia's striking back with everything we've got, right?" I replied, sliding my arms through the sleeves of my overcoat that was hanging on the wall.

"I thought you had no interest in fighting," Dazai replied with a smile.

"I don't," I insisted as I equipped my gun harness. "But sometimes small things pick at my heart...like the two people I owe a debt to."

After finishing getting ready, I walked across the room. Dazai watched me in silence. As I reached the door, he tossed me something that jingled when I caught it. I opened my hand to find a car key. Then Dazai added, "Don't worry about any debts. Nobody ever even remembers doing favors." "I'm not good at forgetting," I turned around and replied. "Dazai, you've already helped me several times with this case. Your men are under attack, right? They need your help."

"Y'know, it really hurts me that you consider something as small as this a debt." He gave a feeble smirk. "So who's the other guy you owe?"

I didn't answer him; I just opened the door and left. Dazai saw me off without pushing any further. Despite not even exchanging a word, we were thinking the same thing.

***

Two forces were engaged in a shoot-out in front of the chalky-white shrine: the Mimic soldiers in tattered gray clothes and the Mafia members in black suits and sunglasses. Both were firing the same foreign automatic rifles. Bullets flew across the town square, chipping away at the shrine's pale- colored pillars like an ice sculpture.

They were battling on the art museum's front yard. The rectangular building with its alabaster facade rose high into the sky. Square cobble paving stretched endlessly across the yard, evoking a digital, pixelated kind of feel. White columns spaced closely together acted as shields for the gunfire as they came crumbling down one after another.

There were four Mafia members and nine Mimic. Mimic was dominating in quality, quantity, and experience as they backed the Mafia into a corner.

They split up into two groups to pour cross fire through a pincer movement. One of the Mafia men yelled orders while returning fire as they retreated into the art museum. The Mimic soldiers, on the other hand, did not say a word. They simply advanced, chasing their prey in silence. As the first Mimic soldier stepped into the building, something caught his eye, and he quickly looked up. That, however, ended up being the last move he ever made.

"Do you not enjoy art?"

The soldier's head flew to one side, then bounced off the wall before rolling back to its owner's feet. It took a moment before fresh blood spurted out from the clean cut severing the soldier's neck. A dark shadow drifted down to the ground, its black overcoat elegantly billowing in the breeze.

Realizing something was wrong, the following Mimic soldier drew his gun.

"How boorish. The artwork here is the manifestation of the human spirit. Show some respect."

The shadowy figure twisted his body, gently pivoting his black overcoat. It split into three parts, each transforming into a massless blade before launching forward.

First, the rifle was split in two. Its contents then spilled out, showing a perfectly smooth slice all the way through.

Next, the fingers holding the rifle noiselessly dropped to the ground one by one. Finally, the Mimic soldier's torso slowly slid forward as his lower half leaned backward before they hit the ground.

The remaining soldiers, who had fortunately been out of range of the dark blades' slaughter, simultaneously aimed their muzzles at the black overcoat and pulled the trigger.

"Guns are the instruments of fools."

The shadowy figure in a black overcoat, Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, took another step forward. A split second later, the twelve bullets clashed with what appeared to be silent blades of solidified darkness. Most of the bullets were reflected before even reaching Akutagawa, while the remaining ones crashed into an invisible wall, stopping mere inches away from him. Akutagawa cut through space, creating a shield. He twisted his body, and the murderous shadowy blades sprung forward as if to answer his calls.

One man's face; another, his body; even one soldier's legs were all sliced in half. Still, the blades' wild dance had not ended. They soared through the air like a violent tempest of darkness destroying everything in its path, as if they were living creatures with minds of their own. It was a skill specialized only in destruction and killing—nothing more.

Akutagawa laughed.

It was as if a pitch-black demon were devouring the gray ghosts.

"Retraite!"

The surviving Mimic soldiers' faces turned sickly pale as they quickly backed away.

"Come back! Fight me!" Akutagawa screamed while chasing after them.

Black spears and bullets clashed violently across the battlefield.

"This is nothing! This barely even counts as a trial! Show me cruelty— show me the sort of brutality that will freeze my very soul!" the boy dressed in black screamed, an echo of supplication in his voice.

Just then, a Mimic personnel carrier appeared before the art museum containing new soldiers. Like a mad dog, a fiendish smirk played across Akutagawa's lips.

That was when a signal flare shot into the air from the personnel carrier. The phosphorescence raced straight up, leaving a red trail in the sky and casting a shadow over the earth below.

Immediately, the Mimic soldiers ceased fire. "What—?"

Bewildered, Akutagawa surveyed the battlefield. Not a single enemy was holding up their gun. One after another, they placed their weapons on the ground. Some even had both hands already in the air.

"They're surrendering?" Akutagawa muttered in disbelief.

"Impossible." With his arms raised, one soldier walked over from the other side of the group. He had handsome features, and both his clothes and hair were a sickly silver-gray hue, as if his soul had been sucked out. The man looked essentially the same as the other Mimic soldiers but was disproportionately taller than the rest. And yet, his footsteps didn't make a sound; it was as if he were weightless. Decorating the breast of his military fatigues were various medals of honor in all different colors. The soldier's emotionless eyes locked on Akutagawa. Confused and at a loss, the Mafia members pointed their guns at the defenseless man as he approached.

"So it's you... You're the black-robed skill user they say is immune to bullets," the tall man said, his lips barely moving. His voice seemed to come from nowhere in particular, like a howling wind.

"Who are you?"

"The commander... Mimic's leader."

The moment his words sunk in, the Mafia combatants rushed over in unison before pointing their guns at him. The Mimic leader's eyes did not even waver.

"Their leader himself has come to surrender? An admirable attitude, but hardly believable... In fact, it disgusts me."

Akutagawa's overcoat transformed into several black belts that bound the Mimic leader's hands and feet together before dragging the man to his knees.

"State your name, leader of Mimic."

"Gide. André Gide. I came to ask you for...a match."

The leader's tone was calm; he didn't appear to be shaken in the least.

"The Mimic leader himself wishes to fight me? What an honor that would be if I actually believed you. Answering questions you haven't been asked only makes you less convincing." Akutagawa shot the man a piercing glare as he spoke. "Leader of Mimic, do you know why I haven't cut your head off yet?"

"Maybe because...you were disciplined not to?"

Akutagawa punched Gide in the face. With both legs tied together, he was unable to dodge, and a drop of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

"The reason I haven't cut your head off yet is that I heard Mimic's leader was a skill user."

Akutagawa swiped the old-fashioned gun from Gide's waist, then pointed it at him.

"I can't gain hisacceptance no matter how many pea-shooting weaklings I kill. Show me your skill. If it is the real thing, I will give you that match you so desire."

Gide just stared at Akutagawa and the gun.

"So this is your skill... You can control the black overcoat," he groaned, staring at the black straps around his arms and legs. "An extraordinary ability, one with no openings. However...it's lacking. It's not enough to free our souls from original sin... It appears I expected a little too much from you."

Akutagawa's face stiffened as hard as a diamond. His breathing halted, and something in his body snapped. He responded with the flash of his black blade, slashing toward a man who was tied up and unable to move. Without even a hint of nervousness, Gide leaned forward and tilted his head. The blade grazed the side of his face, cutting a few hairs to flutter in the wind. As Gide turned his neck, the tip of his head skimmed the old- fashioned gun Akutagawa had just stolen. As the pistol left Akutagawa's hand, his finger accidentally pulled the trigger.

One of the belts around Gide reacted by enveloping the bullet and stopping it before it could reach Akutagawa. However, this freed Gide's left hand...and he was carrying another pistol in his military uniform. He drew the gun with that hand and shot the mafioso next to him before the target even knew what was going on. The bullet struck him in the shoulder, causing the Mafia member's automatic rifle to fire three bullets, with one shooting right through Akutagawa's arm. The other two hit two mafiosi in the chest. The shots were fatal.

"What—?!"

Taken aback at being shot in the arm, Akutagawa reflexively used his skill to block. He cut through space, blocking Gide's next shot, but in return he ended up undoing the black straps restraining Gide, thus freeing him.

Immediately, Gide picked up his other gun lying on the ground...and that was when the one-sided massacre began.

It wasn't some sort of mysterious, visible power at work. The bullets weren't turning and flying in the opposite direction, nor was lightning or fire falling from the skies. No one was suddenly being frozen in place, either. It was simply a repeat of the earlier gunfight with the exception that everything was taking place at extremely close range—that, and the outcome was different.

Gide rolled over the ground while shooting the pistols in both hands. Each bullet pierced straight and true into a Mafia member's vital organ. Only Akutagawa was able to defend—or rather, he was forced to defendwould be a more accurate description.

"What's going on? Is this...a skill?" Akutagawa uttered.

Gunfire illuminated Gide's surroundings as he evaded every counterattack, be it bullets or Akutagawa's black claws. With the slightest of movements, Gide dodged Akutagawa as if he were a mere insect. Before long, one of Gide's bullets eventually sneaked past Akutagawa's guard and hit him in the abdomen with enough force that it bent him backward. Coughing up blood, Akutagawa fell back and immediately wrapped his black fabric around the wounds on his arm and stomach to act as makeshift tourniquets. However, the result gave him less fabric to use to attack and defend, which put him at an even bigger disadvantage.

"Impossible... A destructive skill that surpasses mine?"

"I'm jealous, Mafia skill user... I might have asked the same thing." Gide stood with both pistols drawn. "If you were a little more capable—if you had more experience, then perhaps things would have been different. But right now, you're nothing more than a little black duckling."

"Don't you dare talk down to me!"

Akutagawa's hair stood on end. His black coat whirled as it started to form spikes, but Gide shot them down right as they were about to launch at the speed of sound.

"You...can read my movements...?!"

"We are Mimic." Gide aimed his gun at Akutagawa. "We are a squad of ghosts—a fantôme escouade forsaken by God and fallen from grace. We shall continue to march through tainted blood until our true enemy brings us salvation."

Akutagawa was briefly overwhelmed by Gide's presence...because he knew Gide was neither acting nor bluffing, but speaking only the truth. He could see it in his eyes.

"...Answer me, leader of Mimic," Akutagawa said in a quiet voice with a gun to his face. "What are you trying to accomplish by attacking the Mafia's territory?"

"Nothing," Gide replied without missing a beat. "Ghosts wish for nothing. All we want is for our souls to cease to exist. Long ago, we turned to the Order of the Clock Tower for that purpose. Now we are here to demand that from you... Any last words, black-robed skill user?"

"Kill me." Akutagawa closed his eyes, then gave a small smirk. "I— understand your feelings, truly I do. I regret that I couldn't become the enemyyou sought."

"Farewell."

Gide pulled the trigger.

But he didn't fire. Right before he was about to shoot, he reflexively took evasive action. Raising his pistols up, he turned his body to dodge something...but his efforts were in vain. Odasaku's bullet hit the pistol outofGide's hand.

***

My bullet struck the enemy's pistol, knocking it to the ground. The man who I assumed was the Mimic leader seemed to be taken aback. Maybe he was surprised I'd shot his weapon with such accuracy from so far away, although he looked startled by something else, as well. There was something curious about how he'd tried to dodge before I even fired my weapon.

That wasn't the time to think about it, though. I rushed toward the enemy as I shot. He fired back, but I could already "see" the bullet's trail. Turning my head, I evaded the incoming bullet. I then fired back, but he dodged in the same way.

He dodged?

"Mafia reinforcements...?!"

Neither of our bullets were connecting as we drew closer until I was near enough to grab his gun. And I did make a swipe for it, but the Mimic leader nimbly twisted his wrist, thus avoiding my hand. It was the same bizarre reaction from a second ago. He could read my every move.

I promptly gave up on trying to neutralize the enemy and searched for any Mafia members that were still alive. Most of them had already perished, but there was a boy in a black overcoat who was still conscious. Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, I believe his name was.

"We're getting out of here."

"What do you think you're doing?!"

He resisted, but I hoisted him up on my shoulder and made a dash for an exit route. Akutagawa was as light as a tree branch. Someone that thin would bleed out and turn into a mummy in no time. In an instant, I was welcomed by the concentrated fire of the Mimic soldiers' automatic rifles. Having already seen the attack in a vision, I dived to the side, still holding Akutagawa, and avoided the line of fire. Akutagawa groaned in pain as his wound opened, but I was in no position to comfort him at that moment. I ran away as quickly as I could while firing warning shots at the enemy. Then, right as they took cover, I broke for the man-made forest.

While I heard orders being yelled behind me to pursue, I sprinted through the artificial forest of sparsely planted larches. The trees here should give me a little protection from their attacks, but there was no guarantee this wouldn't lead us to a dead end.

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to put you down. Can you run?"

I lowered Akutagawa to the ground. He knelt onto some thick underbrush as fresh blood dripped out of the wound on his stomach.

"I'm Sakunosuke Oda, a friend of Dazai's. I came to help you escape from this hell."

I extended a hand, but he simply clutched his abdomen without moving.

While his skill was powerful in both offense and defense, I heard he was rather frail physically.

 Out of nowhere, I had a vision. After it was over, I lunged backward in response to what I had seen. Then, like a flash of darkness, a blade swung right through where my head just was.

"I've heard about you. You're nothing more than a lackey," Akutagawa said, panting. His eyes glowed with outrage as if he was going to pounce at me any second.

"Yep."

"You're 'Dazai's friend'?"

His penetrating gaze shot right through me. It was as if something had set his heart ablaze with utter darkness.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Dazai told me something once. He said I could train a hundred years and still wouldn't be able to defeat you." Akutagawa's murderous rage swelled and burst forth. "He wouldn't lie, which is exactly why I can't forgive you. I'm inferior to even you, the lowest-ranking member of the Mafia? Why? Why? Why?"

Three strips of black fabric soared toward me. Having already seen his attack in a vision, I rolled to the side and dodged. The tree behind me was sliced in two before falling down with a loud crack.

"We don't have time to fight between ourselves. The enemy will be here any moment now."

"Why?! Why did Dazai...?!"

I lowered my head until it was almost touching the ground. After cutting down a few trees, the black fabric behind me swung back right over my head. Immediately, a few more trees collapsed.

What a frightening skill. It had extraordinary range and speed. What was more, the blades sliced through everything they touched, making it one of the most powerful skills in the Mafia. The idea of someone this talented at this age was spine-chilling. I could see why Dazai wanted to keep him by his side to train him. However, now wasn't the time for admiration.

As I shot my pistol at Akutagawa, he sliced the space before him with the black fabric he had apparently been storing by his side. The bullet then sank into the cut space and stopped. However, I already knew about his defense mechanism, so I used that opening to slide to his side and kicked his injured arm with everything I had.

"Gah...?!"

The excruciating pain forced Akutagawa to writhe and fall unconscious. He was already mentally drained from using his skill over and over again and from guarding multiple times with a technique he wasn't yet accustomed to using. The kick to the gunshot wound was enough to send him over the edge.

He was barely conscious regardless.

I'd heard that Dazai's Spartan training style was relentless, but no matter how effective it was in producing fast results, Akutagawa was still a kid. Mentally, he was already exhausted from battling the Mimic soldiers, its leader, and me all in quick succession. No one would've been surprised if he'd passed out on his own. Just where did that tenacity come from?

"Why?! Why did Dazai...?!"

When he'd let out that anguished cry, I caught a glimpse of something faint—something other than anger—hidden behind his expression. I couldn't get it out of my head.

"I had a feeling...that I would find someone in this country with that skill."

"What are you talking about?" I turned around.

The Mimic leader stood at the forest's entrance with three of his men. Since I could no longer hear any gunfire, you could've even described the man-made forest as tranquil in that moment.

"I am André Gide. We ghosts came in search of...the one who will free our souls," the leader claimed.

He had striking features. If he were wearing a fancy suit with a glass of wine in hand, I could see him being an actor in a movie. However, there was a certain quality to the timbre of his voice that sounded like something from decades past.

"Well, I know this guy who works at a funeral home. I'm sure he'll give you a discount if I put in a word for you."

"That won't be necessary...because I just found who I was looking for."

At the same instant, Gide shot his pistol, aiming for right between my eyes. It was an extremely accurate shot, but knowing it was coming five seconds in advance made it easy to dodge.

I took half a step to my right. One bullet hit me between the eyes, the other through my heart. The assault weapon's soft-point bullet broke through my cranium and into the back of my skull, sending me flying from the impact.

The vision ended there.

My skill showed me the future. While suppressing the panic flashing through my mind, I swerved to the left, contrary to what I did in my vision. However, the moment I dodged, a bullet was buried in my skull. The inside of my head shook from the impact, sending a soft, damp sound through my skull.

The vision ended there.

I stood in a daze. Gide hadn't moved since he got there. He was still aiming his gun right at me and hadn't even pulled the trigger yet. I was suddenly thrown into a deep pool of confusion.

What'sgoingon?

"Your confusion is my confusion as well," Gide said after lowering the gun. "Because you can do exactly what I can. You have the skill to see danger that involves you seconds before it happens. I saw a future where you moved right, so I adjusted my aim accordingly. However, you 'saw' that future and swerved left instead. And I saw that future as well... Do you understand what I'm saying?"

We have the same skill?

"Your ability to observe the future is omnipotent. No one in this world can kill you...with the exception of me." Gide's cheeks tensed as his lips vaguely stretched to the sides. It looked as if he was smiling. "And the only one who can bury me is you. You are the sole person who can end this war." His smile was truly from the heart. It was as if someone had injected ice-cold poison into my veins. I almost reflexively pointed my gun at him.

"Yes. Just like that," Gide replied as if he were begging for it. "That bullet alone can stop this war. You're a member of the Mafia. You should want nothing more than the head of your enemy."

The muzzle of my gun was pointed at Gide. Everything he said was true. There was no telling who would win in a match between two people who could see the future. But there wasn't anyone else in the Mafia who could even make him sweat.

I took in a deep breath before exhaling with the muzzle still aimed right at the enemy. Then I lowered my gun.

"I'll pass," I replied. "I came here to save my ally. And honestly, I haven't killed anyone in years."

".........What?" That was the first time I heard a note of surprise in his voice. "Are you...not with the Mafia?"

"The Mafia's full of all different kinds of people."

"Guns are tools to kill, and this is a battlefield." Gide gradually raised his voice. "So let us fight! Let us fight with all that we are—a battle that tears away at our souls! All a war needs is a single bullet. Even if you don't shoot, you will have no choice but to fight back if I do!"

He aimed his gun at me. Only moments prior, I 'Saw' him fire.

"Everyone's obsessed with fighting. They can't get enough of it," I said. "But not me. I'm interested in living. What interests me is how you guys live and what drives you to war. And if you die, that information will be forever lost."

"There is no life more important than death!" Gide pulled the trigger.

I had a vision.

The bullet hit me as I bent backward to dodge. I ducked, yet I was still hit. I tried swerving to the side, but the bullet connected. Each condition was superimposed as it played out through my head.

Foreseeing the future wouldn't help me in the least like this. I plunged forward in an attempt to decrease my area of damage. The enemies' bullets soared by, slightly grazing my temples. The Mimic soldiers shot their automatic rifles in tune with their leader; however, I was able to easily foresee it. Rolling over the dirt, I avoided their bullet shower, then fired back with both of my weapons. They were mere warning shots, purposely aimed to not hit anyone. After rolling to Akutagawa's side, I got on one knee and raised my guns.

"You purposely...missed?" Gide's expression darkened. "Do you... really believe this is the battle we have yearned for? What, what is it we've been fighting for until now...?"

"Sorry you came all the way to Japan for this, but I have my reasons for not killing anyone. Please find someone else."

"Why?!" Gide yelled. "After that battle, we searched for a place worthy of death. We wandered the world like specters! You are our only hope! Shoot! Shoot us! If you don't..."

His howls floated unheeded into the atmosphere. He sounded like a man deep in his grave, but also like someone who desperately wanted to live. It appeared I had no choice but to answer him. In hushed tones, I replied:

"The reason why I can't grant your wish is that I have a dream. When I quit the Mafia and am able to do anything I want, I will sit at a desk in a room with a view of the ocean..."

—"Then you write what happens next."

—"That's the only way to preserve its perfection."

"I want to be a novelist," I continued. "I want to throw away my gun. All I want in my hands are a pen and paper... A certain man once told me that writing novels is writing people... You cannot write about someone's life after you rob them of it. That's why I will never kill again."

All noises vanished in an instant. The sound of the wind, the sound of leaves rubbing together—they all disappeared, filling the world with only silence.

That was something I had never told anyone before, not even Dazai or Ango.

"Is that your answer?" Gide asked in a low voice. "Is that the reason why you refuse to stand on the battlefield before us?"

"Yes," I answered.

I looked at Gide, and he looked back at me. Our gazes quietly crossed as we tried to read the emotions hidden deep in each other's eyes. That was when I realized the negotiation had failed. Gide aimed his gun at Akutagawa, who was still unconscious, and pulled the trigger.

It would've been impossible to pick up an unconscious body and dodge a bullet at the same time, so I threw myself in front of Akutagawa. The impact hit me right in the middle of the chest. I'd jumped to the side, and the force spun me around before I collapsed onto the ground and rolled back even farther.

"To live? We are already dead. We are but soulless masses of flesh controlled by the spirits of the departed. We are nothing more than empty shells waiting for a skill user like you to reduce these bodies to ash with your gunfire."

Each cough brought an unbearable pain in my chest. I ripped my jacket and checked the bullet to find it stuck in my bulletproof vest. Even then, my sternum ached as if I'd been hit with a hammer.

"You're not dead." I slowly strung my words together. "I don't know what happened to you in the past, but you can take your time to think about how you'll die."

"Why don't you understand...? You're the only one who can...!"

As he wrung every last bit of anger out of his voice, all emotion suddenly faded from Gide's eyes like a candle going out. And just like that, his gray eyes were empty, as if I were staring into endless ruins.

"If that is your answer, then there is nothing that can be done. You will not kill me because you do not understand my desire. Also, I will not kill you because you are the only one who can guide us into the battlefield's sacred fire."

Without making a sound, the personnel carrier from earlier stopped alongside the artificial forest's entrance behind Gide. Then he and his men quietly got into the truck to the very last man. The grave tone reminded me of a funeral. As they were about to take off, Gide looked back at me once more, then said, "I will make you understand."

His expression was pale. There was a note of sorrow in his voice that sounded like something not of this world. I couldn't even tell where it was coming from.

"I will make you understand me. I'll show you...," Gide said while sternly pointing at his temple, "...what is in here. Then you will know the truth. You will understand that one ofusmust die."

He silently walked away, got in the truck, and disappeared. However, at the final moment before he left, he cast a glance at me that chilled my blood. At last, he spoke.

"Look forward to it."

***

Ever since that day, Mimic stopped attacking us. After getting the injured the help they needed, I talked with Dazai a little. Then I locked myself in my room and cycled through my thoughts. In that dim room, I listened only to my heartbeat as I observed the emotions bubbling up from within me like foam. I had a feeling something was going to happen, and soon. Something big. Like the violet sky before nightfall, like faraway thunder before a downpour, I had a faint sense I was about to face something colossal. This foreboding had nothing to do with being a skill user; it was the small tinge everyone gets before something's about to happen. But realistically, there was virtually nothing I could do about it until it actually occurred and slapped me in the face. The world isn't kind. You have to be tough.

Night fell. Dazai contacted me and asked if I could meet him to discuss our plans going forward. I grabbed my coat and left my room.

"I like the night," Dazai said. "Nighttime is the Mafia's time."

The two of us took a walk through downtown Yokohama. The city residents were calmly roaming the streets. Buildings old and new equally bathed in the moist sea breeze. The golden stars in the sky flickered just like the lights on the earth's surface.

"Where are we going now?"

"To meet someone." Dazai smiled. "Anyway, I feel for you, Odasaku. Not only did you run into the enemy's boss, but he made some serious advances toward you, too. At this rate, you guys will be married by the weekend."

"That's not what happened." At least, I hoped not. "They're just a group of weirdos who start wars for the sake of it."

"Oh? I think it's kinda cute, going to such lengths to plan another person's death. I never would've thought of doing that." There was more than a hint of amusement in his tone. "But I can't ignore what he said to you before he left. They might try to switch up their strategy before attacking again. I need to have my men keep an eye on you."

"How much longer is this conflict gonna last?"

"The Mimic soldiers don't bother me so much, but the leader's skill is a real pain. Surprise attacks won't work, which means we need some inside information. Got any ideas?"

The Mafia was making every effort to get intel on Mimic, but so far it had been all for naught.

"Ango's the only lead I've got," I said. "He was working as a double agent for the Mafia and Mimic for years. He ought to know a lot more than what he told me the other day."

"I agree." Dazai nodded.

"Is there no way to find him?" 

"There is," he plainly declared.

"Oh, there is?" I nodded. Then I found myself surprised. "Wait. There is?"

"More precisely, there's no need to search for him. He'll be waiting for us. All right, we're here."

I looked up in the direction Dazai was pointing in. "Here?" I asked.

"Where else?" Dazai wryly smirked.

Before me was a familiar bar with a white sign and a small light glowing in the darkness of the night.

***

Dazai and I went down the dimly lit stairs to the basement. I could hear the faint voices of people conversing as my feet were enveloped in a white cloud of cigarette smoke. Thinking back, there was always someone there. Whenever I came by, I would always mysteriously run into a friend who would immediately greet me, even if we hadn't made plans to meet or if I'd just stopped by on a whim.

And that still hadn't changed.

"Hey, nice to see you. I've already started."

In the exact same seat, ever his usual self, Ango raised his glass and greeted us. After giving the bartender the signal with my eyes, I raised a finger. Immediately, he gave me a quick glance of acknowledgment. Dazai and I then took the seats by Ango's side.

"You could've at least tried to get in touch with me," I said.

"It took me a while to throw the pursuers off my trail." Ango let out a bitter laugh. "I've had a lot of difficulties that prevented me from talking. But now there are no wiretaps, and nobody followed me here. I can drink to my heart's content. More importantly, how did you know I was here?"

"I found a handkerchief at the site of the explosion." Dazai grinned fiendishly. "There was a napkin from this place wrapped inside. It was completely obvious. Who would've thought spies used such dated methods, huh?"

Now that he mentioned it, I remembered lending Ango my handkerchief before I passed out. That must've been when he slipped the napkin in. I just thought I'd lost it.

"We're the only ones who would pick up on something like that," Ango said before letting out a small sigh. "I thought I'd never get to drink here again. I'm lucky. And I want to share this luck with my two friends."

"Well, aren't you being rather sentimental for an undercover agent," Dazai coolly replied.

I looked at Ango. He didn't immediately react to what Dazai had said, but his lips seemed to faintly curl.

"...I'm impressed," Ango quietly admitted after a few moments went by.

"Ango, you were already somebody before you joined the Mafia. You were an agent for the Home Affairs Ministry's Special Division for UnusualPowers, a secret government agency. Your mission was to keep an eye on the Mafia and report back to headquarters."

"......Yes," Ango replied after a deep sigh.

"While you may be part of a secret organization that presides over the skill users in this country, you wouldn't make it out unscathed if you took on the Port Mafia head-on. Plus, the mission of the Special Division for Unusual Powers is to manage skill users, not wipe them out. That's why they sent an agent to infiltrate the Mafia to keep an eye on things. It was an unavoidable measure of action. Am I right?"

That would mean the entire mess that got Ango into the Mafia was set up by the Special Division for Unusual Powers.

"That's when Mimic came up. This criminal organization of skill users planned on coming to Japan, and they would prove to be another headache for the Special Division for Unusual Powers to deal with. Therefore, they got you to keep an eye on them...as a double agent for the Mafia. Of course, those black-clothed Special Forces—the Division's task force— would come to your rescue if needed."

"Being a government official was a thankless job for little money," Ango claimed with a scowl.

"So that would mean Ango wasn't a double agent, but a triple agent," I said.

"Yep." Dazai nodded. "Well, that's about the extent of my research.

Anyway, enough boring stuff. Let's drink."

Glasses were then gently placed before our seats. Usually, we would say cheers after that, but not this time. Perhaps that would never happen again.

***

Nobody spoke for a while after that. A bitter silence, more bitter than anything on the menu, filled the air between us.

"So..." Ango reluctantly spoke up since no one else would say anything. "Did you come here to affirm our abiding friendship?"

"As if." Only the corners of Dazai's lips curled. "We came to get information on Mimic. You knew that."

"It's strange. This is the same liquor I always order, yet it has no taste," Ango muttered while staring at his glass as if he was talking to himself. Then he turned his gaze to me and asked, "The Division's surveillance group informed us that you met Gide. Did you see his skill?"

I told him I saw that Gide could predict his enemy's attacks.

"Even the Special Division for Unusual Powers has no way of dealing with that skill." Ango shook his head. "The only option would be to drop a massive bomb on him...but he's elusive. We can't pin him down. The higher-ups apparently intend to let the Mafia deal with this case. After both crime syndicates take each other out, the Special Division for Unusual Powers can just manage whichever group survives, thus never having to sacrifice one of their own."

Such a brilliant maneuver would be like killing two birds with one stone for the Special Division for Unusual Powers.

"How convenient." Dazai tilted his head to the side. "But even the Mafia would have a hard time dealing with that skill." Dazai then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "...With the exception of one lowest-ranked mafioso, of course."

"He's a military veteran in command of countless powerful soldiers," I mentioned as I stared at my reflection in my drink. "Besides, our skills merely allow us to see a few seconds into the future. Who wins depends on whoever's more skilled in battle and with a gun."

Being more skilled with a gun means being able to shoot your opponent from farther away with more accuracy.

"Odasaku's marksmanship..." Dazai broke into a meaningful grin. "There's a lot of uncertainty. Plus, there's also the problem of a skill singularity."

"Skill singularity?"

"Did anything unusual happen when you used your skill against Gide?" After thinking about it for a moment, I told him something unusual did, in fact, happen. I saw multiple futures stacked on top of one another.

"It's a phenomenon the government has started to research only recently." Ango's expression was stern as he spoke. "They've observed that when multiple skills interact, on rare occasions they'll careen off into a completely unexpected direction. The details are unclear, but for example... let's imagine two people are fighting, but both have the skill to always strike first... Or one has the skill to always deceive their opponent while the other has the skill to always see the truth... What would happen? The answer is we don't know until we try. Most of the time, one skill ends up winning. However, in some rare cases, it leads to a phenomenon that isn't initiated by either party. The Special Division for Unusual Powers calls this a singularity."

Maybe what I saw then was a singularity. Or was a singularity something even beyond that?

"I really wasn't supposed to tell you any of that," Ango mentioned. "Even the fact that we met here would be a huge problem if the higher-ups in the Home Affairs Ministry ever find out. I'll need to go into hiding for the time being."

Dazai looked at Ango, then beamed as he said, "Oh my. It almost sounds like you think you'll be able to leave here alive, Ango."

The air froze. Ango's expression slowly faded away, but Dazai was still smiling.

"I mean, you know what I'm saying, right? An elusive, secret agency of skill users shrouded in darkness—a group of mythical status that sends shivers down the spines of all criminal syndicates in the country—and one of the members from that organization is here right before my eyes. The amount of information I want out of you could create a tome thicker than the dictionary itself. Am I wrong?"

I naturally asked Dazai what was on my mind. "Do you plan on turning this place into a war zone?"

Ango didn't even flinch. His face was frozen into an ambiguous smirk.

He stared at Dazai as if his eyes were locked in place.

"It's my fault," Ango said as if he had given up. "I made a mistake. I assumed that this place was the one place we could meet that transcended status or rank. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble here, so do to me as you will. I won't resist."

Ango ought to have known just how horrifying Mafia torture was. There was no hope for him to return to the Special Division for Unusual Powers alive. Even if I took Ango's side there, nothing would change. There was no way to break out of Dazai's trap around the bar's perimeter, and the orphans at the restaurant would be killed if I betrayed the Mafia.

"Ango." Dazai quietly spoke up, turning his hand back and forth as if to inspect both sides. "If I make just one phone call, my men will immediately surround the place. But they still haven't made a move. Get out of here before I change my mind."

Ango tried to say something, but he swallowed his words.

"I'm not sad. I knew from the very beginning," Dazai said. His face was a blank mask now. "It didn't matter whether you were with the Special Division for Unusual Powers. I always lose the things I don't want to lose the most. That's why I don't feel anything anymore. The moment you get your hands on something worth going after, you lose it. That's just how things are. There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering."

I stared at Dazai. We had known each other for a while, but this was the first time he'd ever opened up about himself. I could see a thorn the size of a harpoon wedged deeply into his life.

"Dazai, Odasaku, I am no different. As part of an underground organization whose duties must be kept secret, as a skill user who hunts other skill users, I have been engulfed in the darkness of the government for too long. I shall never walk in the light again." Ango looked at us and continued, "If there ever comes a time when the Division and the Mafia no longer exist...if we're ever freed from the confines of our work...do you think we can drink here again like this?"

"Don't say any more, Ango," a voice said nearby. It was my voice. "Just don't."

Ango shook his head, seemingly hurt. Then he gradually stood from his stool and slowly left the bar, his eyes downcast as if he was listening carefully to the sound of his own footsteps. I figured that was probably the last time I would ever see him. I looked to the seat he had been in to find something placed on the table next to his empty glass. After picking it up, I showed Dazai.

 It was the photo we'd taken in that very bar only a few days ago. All three of us were laughing and smiling.

***

[containatrocity]

"And they'll insist that I am full of shit, but I get dinner and attention and get to play video games all the time while people take care of me, so which one of us has gamed th' system? It ain't the ladies." he pauses, for a second, balancing himself against his cane. "Startin' to realize why people say I'm 'dog coded'. 'oh i get food and pets and sometimes we play games' Jesus Christ- look, that ain't the point. To be fair I don't remember what my point was. But I'm not just gonna barge in on ya, Ma loves doin' that to me 'cause I live close enough fer her to do it, and I ain't gonna become our mother." He insists, leaning himself against the kitchen table to take pressure off his knee- and to get to set his cane aside. "I'm at least gonna call ahead. If nobody answers I'll assume Dodger's sawin' logs on the couch and you an' Jay are out."

Phoenix has a point, and Duck knows it, but he's never been built for sitting around- it feels suffocating, the stagnation. Even recovering he's doing things he's not supposed to- the fact he'd managed to cook at all proof of that. "Yeah, s'pose so. But you know me, I been burnin' at both ends here in town for nearly a decade now. Feels wrong to suddenly be told to cool it." Phoenix insists he didn't take any blows like he did. Mal rolls his eyes. "No, you didn't. And from where I'm standing-er, leaning, because my knee ain't never gonna be right again- There's more shit that can fuck with ya than just the physical. Jay got hurt. All this couldn't have been good for you, after Bradley. I got it too, you know. Maybe it ain't something they can slap a name on and tell you to seek therapy for with you- but trauma's trauma. PTSD's a mean bitch- and not sleepin' won't chase it away... It'll start findin' you when you're awake." He sighs, at the mention of Hawk. "Yeah, but you an' I both know Hawk ain't heard reason once in his life. At least I can try an' get through to you without takin' a haymaker." He pushes a hand through his hair. "You can take a break too. Town won't fall apart without us- hell, I think at this point, we can't fall apart much more, can we?" He reminds. "When's the last time you got a full night, kid?"

"Flower more like a damn cactus," Phoenix grumbles shaking his head at his brother's antics. If anyone heard the two it be hard game of deduction to figure out which is suppose to be the older brother. Then again a year hardly made much difference at the end of they day. He waves him off, "You know you and yours always welcome, worst case Dodger nappin and nothing wakes him so don't matter if we get loud like we do." Or really like Hawk and Duck are bound to do, there's still parts of him that are that boy under the table, chewing on a leg cause they're too loud for him. Rolling his eyes, he's grinning as he shakes his head again, "That so? Next time I see one of em I'll be sure to confirm that's the case."

When Duck trails off the smile slips, rubs at his beard for lack of something to do with his hands. The necklace he'd worn for years now around Jay's neck, something to ground her to the new present she's lost out on. "They ain't treating ya like invalid, they treating ya like a man who got injured during a quake and they're grateful they can see that guy breathing," he replied, "Least you actually taking time off for once in ya life." He's chuckling at the reminder of being the cameraman before his comment registers his own brow furrowing. "I ain't one of the one of us that took a hit Duck, might be taking too many shifts but shit. Got two working legs and no new holes in me so someone has to," dropping his hand he shrugs, "I'm doing fine." Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, it's been rough. Dodger has been his anchor, letting Clara and Knightley take the lead with Jay's care something that still makes him feel that knife called failure stab him in the heart. "Hawk could probably use more of a break than me."

[swanimagines]

For the Freddy Carter event, may I request a Kaz x fem!reader who gets into some sort of accident that causes her to go blind? If that is uncomfortable, maybe just a Kaz x fem!reader with some angst

"This is the same anon for the Kaz x fem!reader with angst, accident one.. Maybe it could be a slight angst, that involves in a bunch of comfort. Perhaps they just end up reading together."

FREDDY EVENT, send in requests for any of Freddy Carter's characters (NOT the man himself (= no Freddy Carter (the real person) x readers), only his characters)!! The event will be on for an indefinite time, if you're unsure, see if the event post is pinned. If it is, then it's still on. (Other requests are open too, but they go to my normal to-do list which I'm not able to start doing anytime soon)

A/N: I forgot to title my last Kaz oneshot XD I'll make up a title for it when I can.

Word count: 1.2k

MOVING FORWARD

It had happened so fast. A guard had tackled Wylan on your way out, and you had returned to fight him off your friend. And then Wylan had broken free and the guard had grabbed you by the throat, pushing you against the wall.

"You know what we do to rats like you here?" he'd asked in a low growl. He pushed his face closer with each word: "Rats won't live to see another day."

You had clawed at his hands but couldn't get away from those cold eyes or that hot breath on your neck. You knew how this ended if you didn't act quickly, so when he squeezed tighter around your windpipe — you slammed both of your arms into his shoulders and kicked him hard enough in the groin that he crumpled to the floor without even a whimper.

You scrambled away from him, still gasping for air, the world dizzy and spinning, your vision blurry, as though someone were pressing their fingers over your eye sockets. The man behind you growled again before lunging forward, wrapping an arm tight around your chest.

"You little—" His voice was choked off and you felt him falling off you. You turned around to see Kaz standing there and you smiled in relief.

"I thought I got caught," you said shakily. "When he pulled me back, I could hardly breathe..."

Kaz looked down at you, his brow furrowed in something that almost looked like concern. "Let's get somewhere safe," he murmured.

But as soon as he said that, a blast went off right in front of you. You felt a burning sensation in your eyes and you screamed in pain while stumbling backward, blindly trying to escape.

You heard Kaz's voice saying something you couldn't make sense of, and you collapsed to the ground. As consciousness faded further and further away, you wondered if you would ever wake up again.

***

You woke up with a start, jolting up in bed and a headache pounding through your head like drums. You heard shuffling in the darkness, and soon a hand landed on yours.

"Y/N, you're okay," Nina's voice reassured as your breathing quickened, realising you didn't see anything. "Inej, get Kaz."

You heard a door opening and closing, and steps going up the stairs.

"Nina?" you blinked a few times, desperately hoping  you not seeing is only temporary and Nina interwined your fingers.

"I'm here. Y/N, breathe." she murmured and you looked around.

"I... I can't see. Why can't I see?" you whimpered, and felt Nina rubbing your hand with her thumb.

"Shh, it's okay. It's going to be alright." she sounded annoyingly calm but you sensed sadness behind her words. "We'll figure this out."

The sound of a door opening interrupted you, and Nina let go of your hand. You heard steps going to the door and heard her whispering something to whoever was at the door. Kaz grunted, and a door closed again. A silence engulfed the room again, and for a moment you thought you had been left alone. But then, a sound of a cane clicking against the floor filled the room and you heard some shuffling again as he sat on the armchair where Nina had just sat a moment earlier. But unlike Nina, he didn't take a hold of your hand and try to reassure you. He probably knew you already knew what's up with your eyes. You remembered the blast, and the burning sensation in your eyes.

"Is everyone else okay? Where are they?" you asked nervously. "Did Wylan make it out?"

"He's fine." Kaz grunted. "You're the only one who got hurt. Nina has been keeping you sleeping for a week in order to heal those wounds and fractures who she could heal."

You nodded, a tear slipping out of your eye. You almost saw Kaz right now, how he swallowed as he looked at your broken form. You had had a some kind of a relationship for a year now, an unspoken agreement between you, and you just sensed he had been worried about you.

"Kaz," you whispered.

"Yes?"

"Could you read to me? I just started a new book, I would like to finish it..."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but when he spoke his voice was surprisingly gentle: "Of course, Y/N."

You heard him picking up the book from the nightstand, and the soft crackling of the pages turning over. He was quiet for a moment, and then started reading.

"Neia didn't know if she had done the right thing. The path she took through the woods felt wrong; too easy. Her father had taught her better than that. There were dangers she needed to be cautious of. She hadn't learned that lesson yet. So instead of taking the direct route to the camp, which led by the river, she had gone around the forest. But at this time of night, it wasn't surprising to find nothing except the wind whistling past her ears. Neia stopped and stood still, looking into the distance, trying to sense the danger that lurked in the dark trees."

The words flowed smoothly, and you closed your eyes and listened.

"She couldn't see far because of the darkness, so she made her way to a nearby tree and climbed up. As soon as she reached the top, she found the answer. It was there. A red glow surrounded the forest, and a warm breeze brushed against her skin."

The sound of a page being turned sent shivers down your spine, and you could imagine the scene Kaz described.

"A light of flames reflected off the bark of trees, and on their branches, hundreds of men lay in wait. They must have been waiting for an enemy, someone or something to attack them. An army... No, not an army. Some kind of hunting party."

You rested your hands on your belly, concentrating in Kaz's words and had even a slight smile on your face. Dirtyhands reading a book to someone wasn't exactly a common sight at all, but it sure did feel comforting and it helped you escape reality for a while. Your blindness would have a lot to get used to and you taking part in heists wouldn't be possible anymore, or at least not in a form it used to be. But you knew your friends would stand by your side, and the fact that Kaz agreed to read to you showed how much he cared about you, and took your relationship into the next level. And Nina was right, things were going to be alright. You had people who loved you and they were never letting go. You just had to take the next step towards acceptance.

You had to start moving forward again. And you could do it. It would be a rocky road, but you could do it.

---

Tags: @scandalous-chaos @brekkers-desigirl @bb-skyrunner @ellora-brekker @animalistic0 // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of Freddy's characters do you want to be tagged on! (This taglist is for Freddy event only, I won't take character taglists for anyone else than Freddy's characters. And note: after the event, Kaz pieces will get the full SaB taglist again, this taglist applies only during this event) ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!

[usmsgutterson]

Soooo you asked for angst huh?

May I please have a Kaz brekker x fem!reader where reader dates him a few years after he and inej break up and he can't help but compare everything between the two and reader can see it but chooses to remain silent because she doesn't want to ruin what they have and because she cares about inej?

Maybe with a happy ending? It's up to you!

Thank you so so much 💗

All I Need- Kaz Brekker

Hey! I'm happy to do this one, and I did end up going with a happy ending, which I hope is all right

Fic type- angst with a fluffy ending

Warnings- Kaz is a bit ooc

You’d been in love with Kaz since you were twenty, and had been in a relationship with him since you were twenty one. By the time that you were twenty four, things seemed close to perfect. 

Mostly perfect, anyway. 

He never vocalized it, never made any true remarks that could've ticked off any of the crows or yourself, but you noticed it. You saw that look in his eye as he compared something that Inej did to something that you did. It hurt you to know that you were constantly being put up against her, but you knew not to hold anything against her. Inej was Kaz's spider, the best gatherer of secrets in the Barrel.

She was among your closest friends, a person who you didn’t want to lose, and she remained as much, even showing support when rumors of yours and Kaz's relationship reached her ears.

"It was a thing that was needed," she'd said. "We both knew that it wasn't meant to last." She moved on with a Heartrender. Kaz fell in love with you.

You never said anything of it. Your relationship with Kaz was one that you valued too much to let it go, and your friendship with Inej was often what got you through the worst of your nights in the Barrel. You weren’t going to let either of those things go by pointing something out and starting an argument. 

"Thank you, my love," Kaz murmured as you dropped a note with the latest in the Barrel on his desk. He glanced at you before beginning in on the note you'd left, and you watched those comparative gears as they began to spin.

You plucked a book off one of the shelves and took it with you wordlessly, not even saying a goodbye as you left his office and moved to your shared quarters.

You couldn't take it anymore. The comparisons were constant, sometimes feeling like they’d never end. You loved them both deeply, though, and instead of voicing it, you’d just let it continue. Inej would’ve been better off without the knowledge that Kaz was comparing the two of you and Kaz didn’t need any more reasons to snap at anyone with whom he came into contact. 

In the days later, you found yourself spending the nights at Fifth Harbor. You'd go to the Kooperom, eat some good waffles, and later find yourself at the docks. It was becoming a routine.

About a week into it, Kaz found you. It was midnight, and the only sound that you could hear had been the waves gently hitting the shore, until you heard it.

That distinctive, familiar sound of Kaz’s cane hitting the ground. You turned your gaze to the shore, saw as the harsh waves smacked against the harbor and caused the boats to sway, preparing yourself to either exist in the silence or hear him out. 

When he approached you, standing to your right, you felt his eyes cross over your face as though he was searching for something. A semblance of drunkness, perhaps, something that could’ve told him the conversation could’ve waited until morning. 

"Inej has brought something to my attention," said Kaz. "She's told me I need to stop comparing the two of you."

"She noticed?" She’d never seemed to, even as easily as most people could be read, easily as she could read them. She never quite seemed to be able to read Kaz, and it was a skill even you hadn’t learned. 

"She noticed," Kaz echoed. "She'd been trying to talk to me about it for weeks but I was too distracted. She told me that you might've noticed, and I-"

"What?" You turned to him, look in your eyes nothing if not intense, voice sharper than a blade. 

"I believe I owe you an apology," said Kaz. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

"If Inej is who you want, I'm not going to stop you from getting her back."

"Thats the thing,” said Kaz. “I might’ve loved her once, but that’s not the case anymore. I love you, Y/N.”

“And I you, Brekker,” you said. “You’re forgiven.”

Kaz gave a sigh, looked out to the seemingly endless expanse of sea that waited beyond the docks. In the dim of the light, you caught it as his head bent slightly, allowing for a smile.

“I promise to stop making those comparisons. You're all I need, Y/N."

You took a deep breath in. Your relationship wasn't perfect. Nowhere near close to it, but it was certainly wonderful enough.

[corpsebasil]

Easily Replaced | part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Kaz Rietveld didn't need a reason.

You knew this, of course, as you always had, but it was most clear the day you, Jordie, and Kaz stepped foot into Ketterdam. The two brothers were, as long as you’d known them, ambitious. Ketterdam would fuel that ambition.

"For you, Sankta." Jordie Rietveld laughed, and covered your eyes with his hands.

He was thirteen—much too old for you, as you were only eight, and though you were teased back in southern Kerch for hanging around with him so much Jordie was something like a brother to you. Your own parents were gone—your mother a woman who died too young and your father a mystery.

"I thought you were getting me food." Kaz scoffed, plucking the wrapped omelette out of your hands before you even had a moment to see it.

"Kaz!" You shrieked as you tore out of Jordie's grasp, lunging for the food, but Kaz simply laughed in return, looping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you along, sharing the omelette between them.

The omelette stands in Ketterdam were Kaz and your favorites.

"(Y/N), wait." Jordie called and you paused, turning to glance over at him. His expression was wide and happy—the happiest he'd been in a long time, since he and Kaz's father had died. "Welcome home." He said, and you smiled.

"WAIT!" You yelped, lurching into sitting position so fast your head spun.

He was there, you thought, still blinking away the image of Jordie from behind your eyes.

Your heart raced and your eyes stung as you stood, scanning the streets several stories below you. You’d fallen asleep on the window pane after sneaking into your room at the Slat—if Kaz wanted you gone that night, you’d be gone by morning just to spite him. If only so you had more time to snoop around.

You weren’t expecting the dreams again.

You wiped your hands over your face and sighed, blinking away the remnants of sleep and forcing Jordie to the back of your mind. Jordie Rietveld would always stay in the very back of your mind, in the dregs; you’d think about him only during your last breath, and wouldn't let yourself do it one moment before then.

You crept out of your room and glanced around its interior once more, hefting your satchel over your shoulder. You’d miss this place—you’d miss Ketterdam, but if leaving helped keep certain memories at bay and kept a certain someone from bashing your head in it was worth the risk.

Your feet were silent when you finally dropped to the streets outside and ran, taking back-ally's and fire-escapes and rooftops as you traveled across Ketterdam on a route few knew. Your mask was pulled up and your hood rippled behind you, your shape merely a black speck against the moonless sky.

When you reached the Crow Club you ducked the guards and snuck through a window at the top. If there was anything to be known about the heist for one million kruge the Dregs had been murmuring about, Kaz would know about it. And if you were anything you were vengeful, and you’d get that prize to earn your freedom or you’d die trying.

"The Orchid isn't Dime Lions turf." Kaz's rock salt voice reached you and you paused, one foot sinking into the plush carpet of your old friend's office.

"Well, it's a new acquisition." Another voice purred, and your blood ran cold.

You knew that voice.

That voice had haunted you for years.

"You heard it here first." The voice continued, and you dropped into a crouch, tugging your hood over your head as you crept towards the office.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Kaz was being held on his knees by a nondescript man with a sneer on his face while Pekka, Pekka Rollins, clutched Kaz's cane like he owned it. Your stomach rolled as you took in Pekka's face and you barely stopped yourself from gagging.

It was him.

It was the man who killed Jordie.

"Now, I know you saw Dreesen," Pekka continued, oblivious to the assassin hardly ten feet away who was contemplating his inevitable death. "You got the jump on whatever job he has. I don't know the details...obviously, just that you have a little travel hazard ahead of you. So. Here's the deal: you can do nothing—walk away from it. I'll tell Dreesen I'm taking over for you." He paused, a cruel smile on his face. "Then we're even."

"Not even close—" Kaz began, and you tensed. You knew the man holding him, touching him, was causing him agony.

You had to stop it. You had decided long ago that Pekka Rollins' death would be slow. You could make it last for hours—could make blades sing until he was nothing left but a scrap on a table, but something fast might have to do.

"The other option is..." Pekka began, leaning forward to press the beak of Kaz's cane against his jugular, and you lunged. "I'll cave your head in with your own—"

"Let go of him." You snarled and, quick as an asp, had one of your many blades nestled dangerously against Pekka's throat.

Kaz let out a sharp breath and tensed as the man holding him pulled out a gun, pressing it to his temple to balance the odds.

"Sankta Riipka," Pekka mused, seemingly unaffected by the knife against his neck. "it's nice to finally make your aqu—"

"Shut up, pig." You spat and dug the blade in deeper, your eyes snapping up to the man next to Kaz. You felt steel against your head and froze—

—you’d forgotten about the other member of Pekka's trio.

"By the time you kill me," Pekka began, oozing calm that made to your blood boil, "my friend here will shoot your friend. And then you." He made to twist in his chair and you tightened your grip, stilling him. You knew you were drawing blood. "You ought to make the wise decision here, Riipka."

"Let him go." You repeated, heart pounding violently, refusing to look at Kaz even as you felt the gun against the back of your head push harder. "Let him go or I swear on all Saints I'll slit your throat right here."

The room was quiet for several beats before the man holding Kaz shoved him, knocking your friend—was he your friend?—to the floor. You made no move to remove the knife—your chest was tight and your breathing uneven. Jordie's face was flashing behind your eyes and this moment, this moment, killing Pekka, was what you had been waiting for.

You could do it.

Why couldn't you do it?

You could—

"Stop." Kaz breathed and you froze, meeting his stare. His face was serious but his eyes—they were filled with pain. "Just stop."

"You should listen to Mr. Brekker." Pekka crooned and your gritted your teeth, biting back a snarl as you removed the knife and swung, knocking the gun out of the man behind you’s hands.

     He threw his arms up and froze but Pekka simply laughed, eyeing you like you were a monkey at a circus. You felt small and, for the first time in a long time, like you were eight years old again, sweating with a burning illness and being sheltered by a widow who had no kids of her own.

     You felt like you were eight years old, managing to survive the plague and stumbling down to the docks, half-drunk with a barely broken fever and finding Kaz laying drenched in sea-water on a dock, screaming at you in agony.

It was Pekka's fault.

It was all his—

"No one has to die today, Riipka," Pekka smirked at whatever he saw in your eyes and brushed past, chuckling to his accomplices as they left the office and slammed the door behind them.

The room was silent for several moments before you turned, watching Kaz as he stared at the floor, making no move to stand.

"Let me help you—" you began, reaching out to offer a gloved hand but he jolted, deer-in-headlight-eyes flashing to yours.

"Don't touch me." He snapped, face flushing, and the knot in your throat threatened to burst.

     He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet and scrambled for his cane, one hand absently on his leg as he winced. It was terrible to watch—he was strong all the time, and so serious but this...

...this was him broken. And you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing it.

"I should've killed him," you started over, hands trembling as you resisted the urge to reach out to him. You didn't know if you wanted to help or if you just wanted, needed, his touch. "I should've—"

"You should've been gone by now." He swallowed roughly as his cane hit the floor with a thud, eyes snapping back to yours. "I had it handled. We all could've died tonight because of—"

"Don't you dare blame me for—"

"Well if you had just left when I asked—"

"I'm not leaving you!" You shrieked, yanking off your mask and hood so that you could breathe better. "You can boss me around and yell at me and treat me like Jordie was my fault all you want but—"

"I don't think that," he interrupted, his face stricken as he stared at you. "Saints, (Y/N)." You were silent for a moment, both breathing heavily, before he shook his head and turned away. "If you're not going to leave me alone, at least leave the Club. I can't—" he paused, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't deal with this tonight."

     Without waiting for a reply he strode out the door and shut it, locking it behind him so you’d have to leave out the window. You waited for several moments until you were sure he was gone, strode over to the spare couch around the corner and screamed into the pillow until your throat hurt.

@iamnoobmaster69 @emil7y @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @ambrosia-v-black @i-padfoot-things @kaitlyn2907

hiii sorry I know this one was kinda angsty but it’s gonna spice up soon HA

[cafeinthemoon]

Berries - Chapter II

Chapter: 2/5

Wordcount 1,5k

Title: Fate

Fandom: Naruto | Founders

Pairing: Madara Uchiha X reader

Previous chapter

1

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛

Warning (s): none

Tagging @darling-imobsessed (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just send an ask or a message 😉)

N. A.: So... I owe you the biggest apology for leaving this story without updates since July 2021 (yes, I discovered the date through my ao3). I absolutely love writing for Madara still, and the plot for this story is one of my favorites since I created this blog, but I have to be honest with you: I've been with the draft for this second chapter for all this time in my editor, but I just didn't like it. I tried to re-write it twice but it just didn't get any better, so the creative block came and I became invested in other works. However, I couldn't wait anymore: I didn't want to abandon this story and disappoint the readers that enjoyed chapter 1 and asked me about the continuation, so I sat down and faced the failure text. And finally I got a result that pleased me!

I don't know if you're gonna like it or even if you remember what happened in the previous chapter, but here is the second one. Again I'm sorry for this huge delay 😭

You spent twice the time you usually needed to prepare the cakes and finish other ordinary tasks during that day. Not that it was surprising to you – after the events of the morning, you couldn’t expect things to be different.

You were left by the stranger at the entry of the forest: trying not to increase his own condition as well as yours (and, you supposed, to protect himself from curious observants), he wouldn’t go beyond the shadow of the trees; he bowed for you to put your feet on the ground and did not come back to his previous position until he was sure you could stand by yourself. It wasn’t an easy task, especially when the bloating was increased, but he showed you nothing but patience. You held on his shoulders, afraid that you could cause him more pain, however he didn’t let out a single moan: there you had a resistant – and possibly stubborn – individual.

Finally, he gave your cane back and helped you with the basket.

When you invited the man to your home, where he could treat the wound with more precision, his refusal was almost immediate despite his good manners.

- I cannot accept your offer, though I am grateful for your generosity. I have to go back to my pairs to see if they are doing well. By now they must have noticed my absence, and I do not want them to look for me or to ask impertinent questions.

There was no rush in his voice despite the urgency of his personal circumstances. You felt grateful for this, a sign of consideration you wouldn’t always count on while dealing with people, but you wouldn’t occupy his time more than it was necessary. You decided to reciprocate his generosity by not insisting with him to follow you.

- In this case, it is better for you to go – you smiled – But know that I will be forever grateful. I hope I will be able to pay for this favor one day.

The man gave you back your basket and took a step back, toward a deeper shadow under a tree. You already noticed that his eyes had a profound shade of brown, almost black, yet they would cast a distinct light that reminded you of fire. On his lips, the shadow of a perspicacious smile while he said his farewell.

- You speak as if this is the first and the last time that we see each other. Do not be so pessimistic about it – he put his index finger over his mouth in a gesture that would make you laugh if the circumstances were different – Fate is always surprising us.

Those words barely left his lips and the stranger himself disappeared, as if his body was made of the forest’s shades and just have returned to them. The sounds of the wild were perceptible to your ears – the shaking leaves, the birds singing and other small creatures crawling on the grass – but the silence he left behind him was one that not even those natural noises could disguise. It was as if something powerful was there an instant before, and just vanished.

This swift gesture, as much as its effect in your perception, only served to confirm what you already guessed: that man was a ninja, and not a regular one.

***

A week has passed, and you haven’t heard of the man or anything related to him.

You took care of your house tasks, having the support of a friend for one day or two, and went to the compound to sell your cakes and to take new orders. Life was just returning to its common state to you.

Of course, you were not brave enough to question the people you knew about the recent battle between the Senju and the Uchiha or its results, so you would just wait until someone of your trust said something that could lead to a conversation in this sense. Fortunately for you, your closest friends at the compound were almost all young girls, and they had their ways to know things.

One day, when you were selling your sweets, they were engaged in an excited gossiping session while making you company. The conversation changed its tones when one of them, Chyo, started the following story:

- So... it seems that this time our soldiers had the most spectacular vision during their last battle against the Uchiha in a long time. Or so Akira-kun told me.

- I doubt that, darling – a second girl, Mai, shrugged in disdain – You know that we can’t believe a word Akira says.

The first girl stared at her with anger. Chyo and Mai were always at the same places only because of their friends in common, but all of you knew they had no ways to get along: the girls were basically the opposite of each other. You suspected that they shared some romantic interest for that young man, Akira, but since none of them would confirm such feelings you couldn’t be sure in this sense. You didn’t know him so well, too, so you had no clear opinions regarding his honesty or the lack of it.

- He was not the only one who saw it, okay? – Chyo argued – He was just the first person that came telling this story, so I waited and heard what the other boys got to say, and they just confirmed his words!

- I see – Mai mumbled under her breath, still not convinced.

- It doesn’t matter who told the story first – a third girl, Tsubaki, interrupted with impatience – We just want to hear it. Now, tell us what they said!

Chyo, not hiding her pride for being the center of attentions again, started a well detailed, passionate story that would convince anyone who didn’t know her that she was an eyewitness of such events. You heard the beginning of the events with reasonable interest, but you knew enough of your friend’s style to tell exactly where reality ended and fantasy started, so you disconnected from her words and let your mind wander.

The first place your thoughts led you to was the forest’s entry, where the stranger left you. You revived the sight of his stormy arrival, the words exchanged between you, your farewell… You couldn’t believe that an entire week has passed since that morning and you haven’t received even a sign that the man was still alive. Yes, you knew that the life of a shinobi could be interrupted at the least expected moments, but something convinced you that nothing happened – nothing could have happened – to him in this sense. He was still around, and the opportunity for a second encounter was yet to come.

You only noticed you’ve been absent from the conversation when you heard Tsubaki calling your name.

- Hey, y/n-chan! Are you okay?

You looked at her and blinked twice, as if you just woke up from a dreamless sleep.

- I’m sorry, I… I wasn’t ignoring you – you looked around, as to refer to all the girls – I just got distracted.

With the corner of your eye, you saw when Mai crossed her arms in front of her body.

- You’re too quiet today, y/n. Is there something bothering you?

The other girls repeated the question in agreement. All of them had worried expressions turned to you, which only made you nervous. You couldn’t share the episode involving the stranger with them: since that man didn’t reveal his family or clan to you, you could be accused of betrayal by people among the Senju who wouldn’t understand what really happened between you in the forest, and after all the support you have received from the Senju for all these years this was the last thing you would want. Besides you wouldn’t have the energy to deal with each of your friends’ reaction in case you said something: Chyo would pass out with feigned emotion, waiting for the others to help her; Mai would laugh in an attempt to hide her surprise to see a shy little thing like you getting your own male acquaintance without your friends’ intervention; Tsubaki would show instant curiosity, asking questions you wouldn’t have ways to reply or wouldn’t want to.

You ended up telling them you were worried about some tasks you left unfinished at home. You weren’t sure if they agreed, but to your relief they just went back to the battle’s subject and forgot about you.

You decided you would come back home earlier that day. The girls asked if you would need help with the sweets you didn’t sell, but you just thanked and declined their offer.

- My foot is good today. I can carry them without much problems this time.

You said goodbye to them, adjusted your basket on one arm and grabbed the cane with your free hand, walking in your unhurried pace toward the compound’s gates.

Contrary to what you made them think, you weren’t so busy that time, or at least not in a way they would understand. You spent the rest of the day trying to distract yourself from the persistent hope that the man’s last words instilled in you, hoping that fate didn’t take too long to surprise you.