#closes computer and walks out into a field of lavender

[respectthepetty]

Mook is in red.

Mook is in red?

MOOK?! Is in red?!

MOOK IS IN RED?!

The devil is a lie, and I refuse to believe this.

[fairyoftbz]

lavande | l. hyunjae

🥡 pairing: crush!hyunjae x fem!reader 🥡 wc: 3.2k 🥡 genre: fluff, university au, slice of life 🥡 tw: none? i think? 🥡 synopsis: as you are talking to Chanhee, your crush appears in the lecture room, leaving you with a hammering heart. 🥡 a/n: it's already Monday again, so posting time!! i wrote this because i kinda miss uni without covid, I had such a good time back in 2019 😩 feedback is always appreciated!! <33 🥡 requested: yes, thank you! i hope it's good enough!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“Have you done the readings we were supposed to?” Chanhee whispered in your ear as you turned on your computer, the screen remaining black made you frown as you quickly glanced at your friend, hand deep in your backpack to find your charger.

“Wait, let me guess. With the abandoned puppy eyes you're giving me, you want me to summarise what this was about, am I right?"

“Please Y/N, I didn't have time this week, it has been so hectic! I promise I'll buy you a coffee," you waved your hand in front of your face to let him know that he didn't need to, and you leaned your arm under the table to look for a plug while summarising what you had understood to your friend.

He listened intently until his eyes looked over your head, a smirk forming on his mouth. You frowned for a split second but continued your explanation, noticing that the smile didn't want to leave Chanhee's face. You deeply sighed, trying to make your friend pay attention, but it was to no avail. He was busy looking at something else.

“Are you listening to me, or am I talking to my computer?” you asked, and your friend returned your attention to you, his puppy look made you shake your head and roll your eyes. He looked behind you one last time, and you turned around in frustration, your breath getting stuck in your throat as you discovered what was amusing Chanhee so much.

You did a double-take when you noticed the man standing at the entrance, your pulse quickening as your hands became sweaty and hot. Every student around you, including Chanhee holding your arm to hear the rest of your explanation, disappeared from your field of view. You only had eyes for the one who stole your heart without realising it.

Hyunjae pushed the lecture door open and held it out for the group following him, politely nodding at the blushing girl that thanked him. He pursed his lips and scanned the auditorium, trying to find a familiar face to sit next to. The air was stuffy and odorous, the young man cursing the caretakers for not ventilate it more often as he was almost sweating because of his outfit. His white turtleneck and pants, as well as the lavender sweater, were thick enough for him to be warm to walk from his apartment since it was still quite chilly in the morning, but he felt like he was wearing winter clothes in the middle of a heatwave when he entered this room.

“Wow,” you murmured under your breath and looked down on your phone, trying to hide your attraction for him from your friends around you, your right hand holding your head up, hiding your eyes at the same time. You heard Chanhee mockingly exhale through his nose as he noticed you munching on your bottom lip, a habit of yours he had caught a glimpse of you doing when you were stressed or embarrassed. In this current case, you were both.

Tugging on the collar of his white turtleneck, Hyunjae sighed in annoyance as he walked down the first few steps. Cursing himself for arriving so late, he sighed as the only remaining seats were in the first few rows, where he had almost 99% of the chance of getting chosen by the professor to answer a question. He dropped his bag from his shoulder onto the table as he looked at the rows again, his eyes immediately discerning the funny stickers at the back of your computer.

“It won’t hurt anyone if I just check where he is,” you thought, but it was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had because your eyes met his dark, chocolate ones, his eyebrows lifting in relief when he recognised other familiar faces in your row.

“Y/N, you’re drooling, be careful,” your friend Chanhee whispered in your ear, teasing as you looked away from Hyunjae and wiped your mouth as quickly as possible, warmth flooding your veins as you keep your finger pressed on the power button of your computer. Your best friend laughed at your antics, but you turned a blind eye to him and mentally cursed yourself for not being as wary as you thought you were.

“Idiot, how could you be discreet if you made direct eye contact with him?” You shook your head at this thought and took a deep breath, inwardly praying that he would sit far from you as you mindlessly scrolled down through your notes.

“Hyunjae, over here!” Sunwoo stood up and raised his deep voice over all the hubbub of the auditorium, pointing at the empty spot between you and Chanhee. It was reserved for Eric who was running late, but you noticed the vacant seat next to Sunwoo and whined. You swore that the rest of the row was packed when you arrived, but it looked like a spot magically freed itself when Hyunjae appeared. It was as if your friends had planned this behind your back.

“Can I sit here?” A gentle, deep voice said, and you looked up. Much to your dismay, it was Hyunjae. “Uh, s-sure,” you stumbled on your sentence as if it were your first time speaking, closing your eyes and inner face palmed yourself at the mess you had just become in a matter of seconds.

You gathered your belongings and held them against your chest as you stood up and sat next to Chanhee, giving your crush your now empty spot. Placing your bag on the floor, you turned your head to the right and stared at your friends, only to find them laughing and bickering together. Changmin was imitating your bashful answer, and Sunwoo’s smug grin painted on his face as he cheekily winked at you, everything confirming your doubts that this situation was one of their playful plans. You sighed in exasperation and typed the title of your notes on a new document as if the entire situation weren’t bothering you.

“Thanks,” Hyunjae said as he sat down, and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his gorgeous voice that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up. His smile made him ten times more attractive, and your heart seemed to struggle to cope with his beauty.

You tried your best to ignore your crush’s presence on your left as you typed down your notes at high speed, but it was harder than you thought. He was close, too close for you to function properly and pay attention to the lecture, his presence and cologne distracting you. There were times where you could feel his gaze on you when you were typing or taking a sip of water, your hands immediately tensing and jolting under the pressure of his aura.

As the lecture finally finished, you quickly packed up your stuff and zipped your backpack before putting it on your shoulders. You didn’t even bother saying goodbye to your friends as you stood in your seat and jumped on the table of the higher row behind you to escape your group. Kevin tried to hail you by calling your name, but you were quick to pace towards the exit and vanish into the mass of the crowd.

You almost reached the library, your safe area where you always sought comfort and peace when a hand gently caught your wrist, your eyes immediately drawn to the familiar lavender knitted sleeve. You breathed heavily at the warmth of the slender hand, and you turned around to face none other than your crush.

“Gosh, you were walking so fast,” he chuckled as he finally got you, his hold still wrapped around your wrist blasting electricity through your veins. The contact felt pleasant, yet it felt so wrong to be this close to him. “I wanted to ask you something before the lecture ended, but you disappeared,” Hyunjae smiled as his cheeks became the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen. You shyly smiled, muttering a soft apology, and you frowned, not letting him time to say another word.

He opened his mouth to say something when you drew him behind one of the colossal pillars holding up the second floor as you saw Chanhee’s bleached hair peeking out from an opened auditorium door, spying on you two. Hyunjae looked confused but let you drag him anyway.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You tried to look unbothered, but your fidgeting hands betrayed you, making your crush smile. “Hum yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today?” he asked, looking straight into your eyes, a big, bashful smile decorating his face. "I know a good café not too far from college, so I was wondering if-” “S-sure, why not?” you blurted out, and you heard muffled laughs coming from behind Hyunjae.

You both peeked out and noticed your friends piled up on top of each other, trying to listen to the conversation you were having with your crush. You sighed and shook your head in annoyance, tired of the lack of privacy your love life was experiencing every day because of them, Eric laughing even louder for getting caught eavesdropping like that.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you felt a breath near your ear, making your heart skip a few beats in a row.

“Let’s go before they follow us, okay?” you glanced at Hyunjae, and he looked at you with something in his eyes that made your chest tighten, making the process of breathing troublesome. He grinned at your state and innocently grabbed your clammy hand as you two sped off towards the exit and ran past your friends into the mob.

As you slowed down in the streets, trying to look as civil as possible, you readjusted your backpack strap and caught your breath while laughing, Hyunjae smiling as brightly as you did. He found your laugh so pretty and light-hearted, he felt internally lucky to be part of the reason for it. You went down to the end of the street, still walking close to him, and he paused in front of a takeaway place. Holding the door for you, you shyly thanked him and entered the restaurant, the smell of Chinese food making your stomach grumble in hunger.

“Choose whatever you want, it’s on me,” you turned around and immediately backed up a bit, startled by the proximity of you two. Hyunjae only smiled, and you turned your attention back to the food. “Really?” you asked, and he snickered at your shocked state, nodding with a soft smile on his face. "Gosh, I am so hungry,” you muttered under your breath as your eyes roamed on the menu above your heads, heavily breathing as you were still trying to catch your breath back from the sprint you had just run to escape from your foolish friends.

Relief rushed through your veins when he took the reins and ordered for the two of you, your mouth uttering thank-yous like a mantra, only to have your crush waving it off.

“Y/N, it’s okay, don’t worry about it!” he said, and you stopped to look at him, Hyunjae beaming at you while grabbing the paper bag with your steamy food at the bottom. You quickly seized some napkins and disposable utensils and walked back to Hyunjae, who was already outside, waiting for you. “So, where are we going now?” he said, and you shrugged, looking around you, not knowing anything only outside from the library. “I know a good place, it’s not far from here,” you vaguely pointed to your right, and Hyunjae immediately started walking. “Let’s go before the food gets cold!” he exclaimed and let you take the lead.

It was a small park hidden a few streets away from your university, meeting other students since there was another park inside the campus. Bowing down to pat the grass a few meters away from the artificial pond, you sat down as it was dry, but Hyunjae handed you the food and took out his folded waterproof jacket from his bag. Placing it on the ground, he gestured you to come and sit with him.

“Here, come sit with me, you’ll be more comfortable,” he said, and you obeyed, your knees touching as you set the paper bag down next to you and handed him his food and drink. Your proximity didn’t leave you indifferent, but you tried your best to hide it as much as possible.

Hyunjae noticed your little change of behaviour and found you adorable when you looked away at each of his compliments. Your arms were now touching since his jacket underneath you wasn’t a picnic tablecloth, and you were slowly getting used to his body warmth surrounding you.

As the lunch break went by, you talked about your respective majors, and you joked about the shared lecture of this morning, getting closer and closer to each other. He was kind-hearted and became more comfortable when you were alone, gently nudging you in the elbow when you were about to lift your chopsticks to your mouth, the noodles falling back into your bowl. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you were quick to nudge him back and laugh, still careful not to stain any of his clothes.

“You… look really nice today. I like those colours on you,” you complimented him, and he smiled at your hesitant voice, taking a sip of soda before answering. “Thank you Y/N, I appreciate it,” you nodded and started chewing on your bottom lip, eyes divagating towards the pond surrounded by plants and flowers. “You look really pretty as well,” he whispered in your ear, and you froze at his words, your heart skipping a beat as he had seized the opportunity of you letting your guard down as you were paying attention to the pond. You offered him a soft smile and took a sip of your drink as well to try and calm your racing heart.

He kept playing with it since he was having fun by making you embarrassed and shy with his compliments and proximity. Hyunjae knew that it was working despite your never-ending tries of hiding it, and he felt proud to have this effect on you. Although it was hard for him to see you chew on your lip like that, he had to force himself not to cup your face and tell you to stop, because he was really tempted to do so. However, when you started scratching your lip with your fingers, that’s when he grabbed your pitiless hand and held it in his.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said and grabbed a napkin to dab the blood coming out of the little cuts on your bottom lip you had caused out of nervosity.

You guiltily avoided his eyes and searched for your lip balm in your bag before quickly applying some. The temptation of starting again was real when your hand was still cradled in his, your crush not giving a single sign of him being ready to let go of it. Alternatively, he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you both observed the pond and the people chilling around you.

Much to your dismay, your little romantic moment was interrupted by the church clock striking thirteen times, announcing 1 PM. You both didn’t pay attention at first, but it was when you couldn’t see a single student around you that you realised something.

“Oh god, Statistics! We have statistics in less than fifteen minutes,” you hurriedly said as you jumped on your feet, placing all your trash in the paper bag. “Oh shit!” Hyunjae imitated you and grabbed the bag from you, jogging to the trash can on the other side of the pond while you grabbed your belongings and quickly folded his jacket. He thanked you, and you left in a rush, under the confused eyes of your neighbours.

Even if it wasn’t too far from your college, you still jumped in the bus that was about to drive off from the stop right outside the park, the doors closing right behind Hyunjae. You sighed in relief as you both made it, and you tightly grabbed the metallic bar as the bus sped uphill.

“I’m glad this bus was here, I don’t think I could’ve walked back up there after our lunch,” you smiled at his words, his hand holding the bar above your heads, his lavender sweater going high enough for you to see his black Gucci belt keeping his turtleneck tucked in his pants. “I don’t know who had this marvellous idea of building the university on top of a hill,” you sarcastically mumbled and pressed the button next to your head as the screen announced the stop.

Hyunjae was the first to jump off the vehicle, grabbing your hand as you were quick to imitate him, the mass of students behind you forcing you out. Your crush followed you like a lost puppy through the different staircases and corridors, your great sense of orientation leading you quickly to the auditorium you were almost late to. You were out of breath when you finally arrived there, right before the clock struck 1:15 PM.

Surprisingly, the rows were practically empty, but you instantly spotted your friends in the middle, some of them still eating while the others were laughing or reading together. Hyunjae grabbed your hand for the nth time today, slowly getting used to this new feeling, and you dragged him towards them, but he resisted.

You looked at him, his eyes scanned the auditorium just like he did this morning and looked back at you with a smile before gesturing over a good spot, a bit higher and further away from your friends. Changmin, with his eagle eye, was quick to notice Hyunjae's lavender sweater and warned your friends, all turning around to observe you and your crush sitting together. Chanhee gasped as he quickly saw you holding hands, gossiping about it to his hyungs. Juyeon just shrugged, unbothered by the situation as he cracked his fingers and neck, getting ready to type.

You noticed your friends smirking at you and hid your head behind your computer screen, Eric leaning back in the vacant seats just enough for him to appear in the corner of your eye, his mouth transforming into a pout to mimic a kiss. You rolled your eyes and groaned, offering him a disapproving look, your antics sending him in a fit of giggles.

Hyunjae smiled at you before looking at your friends, who cooed and loudly gagged when he grabbed your hand and lifted it for them to see. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, embarrassment taking over your body as your friends cheered, drawing attention towards you and your crush, the latter replacing your linked hands on his lap, under the table.

“Why would you do that?” you dared to ask, and you shouldn’t have, your voice breaking mid-sentence made your crush giggle. “Let them be, they’re just happy that their best friend is getting out of their comfort zone. Plus, you look cute when you are flustered,” he said, and the professor started talking, preventing you from answering him.

He just sat there with a satisfied smile on your face, while you were trying not to pass out here and there with your heart beating this fast.

[pleasantwizardphilosopher]

Blooming

This is chapter 4 of my current fic, I am posting them here as well as in AO3 just because, I really hope you like it, let me know if there are mistakes and your thoughts overall.

Supergirl arrived at Zor-El headquarters like a speeding bullet, almost breaking the sound barrier, out of sheer excitement. Things with the CEO went beyond her wildest dreams, not only was the joint project approved, almost, since Lena still has to sit down with the same old misogynists and make them approve the budget, however, the Maiden of Might has no doubt that the green-eyed genius will make them bend under her gaze. She herself, felt her knees growing weak every passing minute in the woman’s presence, she is now certain that the CEO can bend steel *wink *wink. Furthermore, the Kryptonian has gotten the opportunity of working side-by-side with Lena (isn’t that a beautiful name?), the same one she has been in awe with for several years; watching the CEO work up close was something the Kryptonian never even dared dream of, as it was something she always thought to be quite impossible, because although their companies aim for similar purposes, their markets and social statuses are entirely different.

Moreover, she is certain that there is something bonding them together, what, she isn’t sure exactly, there is just this itching crawling under her skin, making all her nerves tingle with excitement, wanting to grab the Irish goddess and hold her close, to protect her, to know her entirely, to pull a smile from crimson lips, to make sure that she feels safe, validated and supported in a way the Girl of Steel is now certain Lena has never experienced, she also wants to tear down all the walls she has built around herself and know the real Lena, the one that’s deeply hidden behind years of trauma and abuse, and it frightens her, her whole life she’s always wanted to make friends, sure, she’s friendly by nature, but this, this depth, she has never before encountered and albeit the horizon seems promising, scary as well but first and foremost promising; it’d imply bringing to light many things that she’d truly rather not. However, as they say, time will tell, and she definitely wants to see what lays on the other side.

The first thing the Superfriends get to after receiving the good news from Kara is to slightly modify the organization of the company’s headquarters; during the last year of their superheroing endeavors they installed a vigilance room to allow their crime-fighting activities to go smoothly (ish). Said room is in the basement, the vault where they keep their prototypes is still there, occupying one full corner; however multiple monitors and computers had been installed as well, to keep track of Nia and Kara while they’re on the field; there are several chairs, and a platform is installed on the middle for debriefing and planning. There are also four suit holders, where Dreamer’s and Supergirl’s suits are, as well as prototypes for Winn and Brainy’s, in case they ever want to join them on the spot. Since they are one of the most innovative tech companies, many of their security and communications prototypes are firstly tested by them on life-saving missions, taking the devices to their tipping point, that way they ensure that every single device and software launched works perfectly under their prompted circumstances. What they added were a few biometric locks to avoid being discovered and a false wall that hides the elevator leading to the lowest floor. The rest of the building remains the same. Safe for the fact that Nia and Brainy have their own office and lab, respectively, on the third floor and on the second floor, where Winn’s supercomputing lab is, they’ve added a med-bay, after several injuries on the field and only a little bit of alcohol and cotton to treat them, some of their most successful medical equipment are used there.

The first time the two of them actually get together to work on the project, or more specifically, to go through the details of their work together; Kara arrives at the CEO’s office with a paper bag filled with doughnuts and two coffees on a cup holder, she's done her research (aka asked Jess) and now knows that the green-eyed woman likes her coffee black, which is something she honestly doesn’t get the fuss of. The Kryptonian thinks it's a great way to start this project, this working-relationship, starting with the right foot and all that, especially considering that she'll put forward her own lab for them to work on the project, is more private than the L-Corp tower, brimming with scientists and business people; and she'll feel a lot more comfortable there, having her friends and colleagues close and being a few steps away from her suit, in case her assistance is needed, is a lot less likely that the genius woman finds it suspicious, she just had to make sure that no scribbles in Kryptonian were left on her desk and project board, the ones she did have were (not) carefully folded (more like threw) in a locked drawer, away from prying eyes.

When she's let into the office, after giving Jess a couple of doughnuts for her invaluable help with her ‘getting to know Lena’ research; she cannot help but be struck dumb (again), and surprisingly it never gets old, at the sight of the Irish woman. The CEO is standing facing the city through her office’s windows, her silhouette highlighted by the sunlight flooding the office, she is wearing a crimson red three-piece suit that fits her perfectly, after she turns around, Kara can see that underneath she’s wearing a black button up, and her signature red lipstick, the whole outfit paired with dangerously high heels. She gestures for the hero to sit down on her very white couch so they can thoroughly review the information they have and design their project’s timetable and budgets, her eyes are glinting like light reflecting from beautiful emeralds, unblemished, there is curiosity written all over them and she smells wonderful, the strong smell of the coffees the blonde is still holding do nothing to diminish the smell of cinnamon and a citric perfume coming from the CEO.

Lena, on the other hand, finds herself to be intrigued by the woman sitting in front of her, she’s wearing a white and black flannel paired with khaki pants and a simple belt at her hips, her hair is braided perfectly and falls over her shoulder; and the whole outfit makes her look so young and innocent that the CEO has to refrain from wanting to hug her, which is not a common circumstance she finds herself in, for someone as touch starved as she is. The scent of the coffees she’s brought still lets a scent of vanilla and lavender get to her nose and she feels at ease, for the first time in who knows how long. She should be worried, about someone having such strong effect on her, but she honestly isn’t, it feels as natural as breathing, there is something about those cerulean blue eyes that settle her heart and even her breathing, like coming home after a long day at work, or falling asleep into a mother’s embrace, she finds it to be really easy to just let go and be.

Both of them engage in shy smiles and deer eyes for a few moments, all boardroom meetings and upcoming deadlines forgotten. With the information they have now they know for sure that current solar panels are very inefficient, you can power two computers and a light bulb tops with the best ones available on the market, and not for a very long time, as their reliability is quite low. But with the system proposed by the Kryptonian who, with huge compliments to Alex, for helping her with the cellular growth and with her help as medical specialist to analyze the results; has spent the past two months thoroughly evaluating her cells solar absorption. The system will work as follows, the nanoparticles oscillate when solar radiation hits them, this is due to a quantum phenomenon called surface plasmon resonance that enhances the radiation through the oscillation of the particles, as a result of their electromagnetic fields, to the wavelength of certain radiations, solar now, and hence, the energy obtained is higher than that of the incident light, then, this enhanced energy in the form of light will go to the circuitry, which will do... something, Kara isn’t entirely sure as to what exactly, even with her engineering background the circuitry she can think of will be huge and inefficient; to turn the radiation into current and voltage so it can be stored in batteries and transported, if necessary.

Lena laughs softly at the woman’s circuitry perception and pipes in, explaining her own vision for the circuitry, she has been thinking about it for the past months, getting all her knowledge together to develop the best system, she proposes to build nanobots that will act as small transformers, turning raw energy into voltage with the aid of electron energies, which are directly bound to voltage, jumping from one orbital to another, however, now that she understands the blonde's idea better, she had been quite secretive about this, she thinks they can add a cobalt isotope battery that would allow the system to store the energy for further use and for long periods of time without any significant decay; the system would allow power to be distributed evenly with no current peaks or voltage drops. They also agree on having the nanobots programmed with a failsafe to prevent the system from supercharging. As enraptured as they are in their little science discussion, finally having someone who gets their brilliant minds and has more ideas, challenging one another, time flies for both of them, and suddenly they have to part ways to keep with their day, having been discussing ideas and details for several hours, there are now several pressing matters that they need to attend. As she is walking out of the office, Kara spears one more look at the green-eyed genius, who is now checking something on her laptop, after turning on the TV in mute, if she didn’t know better, she’d say she’s smitten, but that is a dumb idea.

When Lena is left alone in her office again, she feels light as a feather, in a way she had forgotten one could feel, this project holds many expectations, for both of them, nonetheless, she can finally let her mind free, without being afraid that someone may feel threatened by her intelligence. Smiling softly to herself she turns her attention to her laptop, in order to keep going through accumulated emails and paperwork; remembering then to do something she takes out her phone to call Sam, her CFO and best friend, to let her know about the project and the fact that although she will still be working as CEO and taking care of whatever fires need her attention, the rest of the every-day paperwork will go directly to her, as well as any boardroom meetings (thank God for that), as she herself will be busy with the project.

They are animatedly talking about a certain blonde when a streak of red and blue on her TV catch her attention. Supergirl is rescuing several kids from a severe accident, where their school bus was pushed out of the road and down a cliff by a lory speeding out of control, the images are startling, the destruction left behind by the bus rolling down the hill shows very bad premonitions for the kids’ safety and overall health. However, Dreamer and Supergirl are giving all they have to rescue them as soon as possible, the blonde hero is flying the children to safety five at a time, while Dreamer is holding the bus with blue-energy constructs, to keep it from sliding further into the ocean, from the images being shown, she can tell that the young hero is struggling, even though the Super is taking them out at an impressive speed. Emergency services have started arriving and providing first aid to the more severely injured ones, most of the kids have several bruises and cuts, but she can tell, even with how far the camera is, that some are at actual risk, the few ambulances that have arrived and the traffic piling on both directions are a bad premonition to those who were pierced by metallic pieces or have broken bones, particularly broken ribs.

Kara is gritting her teeth together, trying to keep herself as focused as possible, which is hard on the light of the events. The bus had twenty-seven five- to ten-year-olds, most of them managed to hold onto something the moment their transport was pushed off the road and only show minor scratches and bruising. However, there are a few who are severely injured, and Nia is struggling greatly to keep the bus from keep rolling down the hill and into the ocean, as it is quite heavy and the dirt she’s standing on is very unstable, making her slide further helplessly, hence, she cannot fly to a hospital those whose life is at risk, because even though she can fly extremely fast, human composition and physiology wouldn’t withstand such extreme conditions. She can only hope for the best and try to pull them all faster, one problem at a time.

Without thinking twice, the CEO activates a few codes on her computer and a swarm of aid drones are launched from a nearby warehouse. On screen she sees how the drones arrive on site, giving first aid to anyone that needs it and allowing kids to jump out of the bus by their own feet, the older ones helping those who need it or are too young, the bus driver is the most injured one, nevertheless, she has improved her drones from the first time she presented them, and now they can assess a person and act accordingly faster, by the time Supergirl gets to him, his life is no longer in danger, albeit he’s still pretty beaten up. Through the camera of the drones, she sees the hero waving a thanks and then speeding off with the driver to the nearest ambulance, rushing afterwards to move the problem-causing lory out of the way, so that ambulances may leave as fast as possible, otherwise, all the effort put forward by them, the rescue teams and Lena, would be for nothing. Finally moving to Dreamer’s side to lift the bus back into the road where cranes can dispose it properly.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, the raven-haired woman drops on her chair, just as the news shift from the rescue efforts to a report on how "a xenophobic group declares war on all aliens", according to an anonymous letter that was sent to the news channel, this groups seeks to fight for their planet, to avoid alien invasion and for humans’ rights, as “aliens are a threat to our way of life”.  She feels all blood draining from her face, that sounds an awful lot to what her twisted family believed in, it cannot be though, after Lex was incarcerated, she pulled several strings among the board members, with hard evidence on how Lillian posed a threat to the company, resulting from sharing the same world-domination ideals she pushed onto her son; and thanks to her friends, Sam, Jack and Andrea, helping her buy shares from her mother through shell companies, the woman started losing her spot on the board, eventually being left with absolutely no power over L-Corp, as she owns only about 0.2% of the total shares. That way, Lena prevented her twisted mother from using the company’s resources to do something along the lines of what her brother did, and also from her getting enough money to fund whatever twisted idea of patriotism and ‘right or wrong’ she has. But this, this could very much be their doing, she’ll have to dig into it and make sure that her sick relatives, have nothing to do with it, maybe even find out whoever is actually behind it and put a stop to this nonsense. There is a dread deep in her stomach, that tells her otherwise.

Lena parks her car at the entrance, she is at the direction Kara gave her. She’s wearing black jeans with leather boots and a deep green turtleneck sweater underneath a thigh-high grey coat, as it is the beginning of January and this year’s winter has been quite cold, she can see the puffs of her breath condensing on the air in front of her every time she exhales; the building she’s in front of are the Zor-El Technologies headquarters, she isn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. The building is big, from the outside she’s certain that they would need a few hundred people to fill it, it has huge floor-to-ceiling windows on every floor, and the glass is, she’s certain, bulletproof (the fuck?), which is quite startling, and polarized, so that someone from the outside can’t see what’s happening on the inside but without preventing sunlight from streaming in, however, from the inside you could clearly see the outside. The only detail that differentiates this building as the one from a tech company is the huge Z hanging on the front from the rooftop. She approaches the glass doors, which slide open as soon as she nears them, and is stunned to see that there is no one, no secretary, no front desk, no security detail; there are a few cameras and the lobby is clean, open-spaced, with dark wooden floors and a few paintings hanging from the wall, in the furthest wall, there is an elevator, and coming out from it, is Kara.

The cheery blonde is wearing denim jeans with heeled ankle boots, making her look a few centimeters taller than the CEO; a light pink polo shirt covered by an open lab coat. She hands the green-eyed woman a card with her name on it, which she assumes is her access card, and is quite surprised to see the easiness with which she was given access to this building, family name aside and knowing that she may not have access to all floors and stuff, it’s still refreshing in a way. She is then led to the elevator, where she swipes her card and presses the button to the first level, where she now knows Kara’s lab is, and where she will be spending a lot of time until the end of this joint project. When the doors open, she gives herself a moment to observe.

There are several workbenches across the space, underneath them all are cabinets that contain chemicals and solvents, she assumes; there are tools scattered messily over some tables, screwdrivers, LED’s, tweezers, mixed oddly with Erlenmeyer flasks, hot plates, test tubes and other glassware. On the furthest left corner, right in front of the windows, is a desk, with a small lamp and a laptop, beside it is a cork board filled with scribbles, notes and drawings from other projects the blonde must be working on. There is soft music playing from a couple of speakers next to the elevator and a big painting of a sunset, she thinks, because of the red-ish color of the sky, on the wall to her right. Again, she’s surprised by the easiness with which Kara has let her into her space, her life, because, as a scientist herself, she knows how hard it is to open the doors of her lab to just anyone, so this small gesture amazes her and fills her with warmth, she feels welcomed, there is a knowing feeling that from now on she’ll feel a lot like that.

Research is hard she knows this, even though the background check, patents, recent developments and discoveries; is already done, the first months of their project have been a bumpy ride, to say the least. Their first experiments have been disastrous, to put it nicely, the nanoparticles vary in size to a level of polydispersity were they don’t fulfill their purpose, the nanobots the genius woman has been trying to develop don’t work, not only do they not do what she’s programmed them to, but they don’t do anything at all and is fucking infuriating. She should be able to do this, designing this kind of technology is not new to neither, particularly to the Irish genius, who has actually developed several nanotechnologies to improve life quality. In spite of that, good things have come up, the aching to know each other better, to find out more about them, paired with their constant failures has given them window to actually do so. And it’s heartwarming.

It starts with an invitation to get lunch together from Kara, after another very terrible outcome, they get on Lena’s car and drive downtown, which is only a few kilometers away from the warehouse. They eat at a Chinese restaurant, the best on National City, according to Kara. Engaging into small talk with the blonde, is easy, Lena finds, there is no judgment coming from her, she just listens, sapphire blue eyes earnest and filled with interest, honest interest, making her feel like she’s the only thing that matters; and gives reassurance whenever the Irish woman needs it, even without her actually voicing it, she just notices. What was meant to be a short lunch, became hours of them talking about everything and nothing, the outside world and that stupid project, vanishing for them. Lavender and citric coffee. Green and blue. Kara finds herself lost in kryptonite green eyes, warm and glinting, and a soft smile, the way her hair falls in dark waves only adding more and more to the softness of the woman in front of her, who has suffered and lost so much, she unknowingly and silently makes it her life’s mission to protect this beautiful human being, vowing to no one but herself to always stand up to that promise.

After a few more lunch dates they start getting close, the pull their hearts experience, stronger than ever. The first time Kara goes forward with a hug as a way to greet the raven-haired genius, Lena stiffens as a rock, not being used to such closeness, it takes her a few more attempts at physical contact but when she gives in, she finds her new favorite place, in the blonde’s arms. There is something about the way Kara hugs her that makes her feel at ease and safe, like a small precious creature that needs to be taken care of, as if she were fragile and invaluable, the scent of vanilla and flowers that she has now come to associate with the woman, dizzying, and her warmth, protecting. She feels certain that no one has ever said so much and yet so little with the simplest wrap of arms. She surely has gotten a little enraptured by her hugs. And her eyes, she’s not sure she’s ever seen bluer eyes than those, and she finds captured by them every single time. At first, she felt like they could be deceiving, however, as time went by, she has come to realize that she can read them like an open book, whether is worry or affection, she knows what Kara is feeling, and she’s now certain that the woman can also read her with that same easiness.

Will she ever get used to this woman’s presence? Somehow, she truly hopes not, is addicting the way the baby hairs at the base of her neck seem to electrify the moment she gets into Lena’s eyeline, how her breathing becomes shallower and everything else in her line-of-sight fades. After more than six months working together, she still loses her bearings every single time the raven-haired woman crosses the doorstep of her lab, it’s been natural, the way she seems to exist in her space, the way the move around each other as if they’ve been doing this for years instead of a few months. She has become attuned to the sound of her heartbeat, knowing the precise instant she arrives at the door of the warehouse, to her constant smell of citrus and coffee, she is now an addict of. Moreover, she’s addicted to her smile, her laugh, the way her dimples show whenever she is actually letting herself feel, long gone is the mask of the no-nonsense, cold-blooded CEO every newspaper feasted on.

Lena, on the other hand, has devoted her entire mind to this project, after the first months of failure, they both started gaining momentum and now they seem unstoppable, the device will still take some time as it is groundbreaking and will move Earth’s technology forward several years; however, their progress is excellent and is going ahead of their own agenda. The Luthor is so enraptured by the project that whenever she’s not working on it, her mind is reeling with possibilities; she can’t help it, she is so excited that whenever a new idea or pathway pops into her mind, she springs out of bed and drives to their lab, Kara’s lab, to keep working. After a few times Kara caught her in there, she made it her new purpose to make sure that the woman eats and sleeps properly, becoming aware of her terrible work habits. For Lena, it’s grounding in a way, the fact that someone actually cares for her, is new, and at first it scared her, but she’s come to realize that it’s deeply rooted into the blonde, she truly cares, and her kindness is blinding.

They have become accustomed to each other, and have started opening more, mostly Lena, since Kara still has a super big secret, she’s yet to come clean. The Kryptonian now knows about all the abuse Lena has endured throughout her life. How even though Lillian never actually hit her, she would still make her hate towards the green-eyed woman very well-known, criticizing every single detail, from her posture, to her eye-color, her freckles and every little imperfection she could find; humiliating her for sins she never committed, like that one time she decided to go to a party, during summer, and returned home soaking wet, as a downpour had broken lose, and Lillian made her cook for her and Lex, with her clothes soaked as punishment, and then berated her for dripping water on the floor, forcing her to clean with a rag and a bucket, on her knees. Kara’s heart broke that time, so badly that she couldn’t stop herself and hugged the woman trying to convey all her support and care. Running her fingers through black strands, whispering tenderly into her ear that it wasn’t her fault and that she is worthy.

Kara knows about the huge betrayal her brother committed that time when he went rouge and tried to kill Superman, using one of her own inventions to synthesize kryptonite and embed it into his Lexosuit. She has never trusted anyone after that. Simultaneously, Lena knows that Kara is adopted, she hasn’t given a lot of information about her life prior to the Danvers, but she’s certain it was horrible and traumatizing, she doesn’t want to pry, but she can tell from the way the light in those blue eyes seem to vanish, like a suffocated candle, the way there is a red glint to them, whenever she mentions that she failed, that she should’ve been better, smarter. And Lena holds her, rubs her back and lets her crumble and cry, she’s certain that this personification of the sun had nothing to do with whatever happened and she needs her to understand that, it’s hard. Without them knowing, their hearts started opening, giving the other a soft spot, always there, prevailing, waiting.

Kara has a drawer filled with snacks. Lena is not ever sure why she is surprised by that when the woman is literally always munching on something, how she doesn’t gain weight, she sure as hell doesn’t know; but there is just something about opening her desk’s drawer, which surface is always filled with scribbles, experiments records and calculations, and find it filled to the brim with snacks, from Poky’s to chips and… is that one of the pastries she bought last month? The CEO shakes her head in disbelief, a loving smile forming on her lips, and tries not to think about it too deeply, she absolutely doesn’t steal a chocolate bar. Sitting on a stool in front of the prototype she’s currently trying to make work, her thoughts inevitably drift to how her life has been for the past months. When she first started working in this lab, she got to know all of Kara’s friends and colleagues, and she was impressed again about the easiness with which they let her in. But being alone in Kara’s lab is something else entirely, it is not the first time this has happened, the blonde sometimes remembers she has to do something last minute and gets to it, leaving Lena on her own. Is a small gesture, but it never fails to turn her into goo, being trusted so blindly by someone so caring, she has seen the blonde playing with kids and eating unhuman amounts of ice cream, she is certain that the woman is the impersonation of goodness and the sun, and it makes her feel something she hasn’t given the time, nor wanted to for that matter, to analyze, shoving everything in little mind boxes, her life is pretty messed up without the added weight of feelings, especially with the whole anti-alien campaign.

She pinches the bridge of her nose to try and lessen the upcoming migraine she can feel the beginnings of. Whoever is behind that letter has been working from the dark, pulling strings here and there and planting the seeds of hatred towards aliens. National City has been one of the main destinations of displaced aliens and there were already growing sentiments before this whole thing, nevertheless, there weren’t any actual actions towards them, there are now. A few protests against the recognition of aliens as citizens has arisen, and there are now several youtubers who ‘state facts’ on how aliens are a threat to the human race, a speech about how aliens are taking their jobs and invading their spaces, how they will come and conquer, and who knows what other bullshit. At first she was sure this little uprising was going to end quite fast, and never really gain strength or followers, she was wrong, it turned out that a lot of humans had resentments towards aliens and this has just spurred them to the surface, many other humans who have lost their jobs to aliens have also joined and now is a very wide movement throughout the city that doesn’t seem likely to go down in the near future and is worrying, this kind of hatred-guided obsessions always escalate to more violence from both sides and who knows what could happen.

Sighing and hoping for the best, she turns around to keep working in her nanobots while Kara arrives and drags her to grab some dinner, smiling to herself at the thought of their now usual routine, where they work together all day, Kara always bringing something for lunch for them and at the end of the day she’d drag the raven-haired genius to either her apartment or the blonde’s and they’d have dinner, if Lena was in the mood she’d cook for them, not letting Kara touch anything, being remitted to chopping, if not they’d just simply order something and then watch some Netflix or another rom-com that Kara needs Lena to know (is general knowledge Lena). It fills her body with goosebumps the way they have gotten close, understanding each other easily, as if it had been always them, forever each other. She’s not usually this cheesy, though.

[today-only-happens-once]

Ikigai

Title: Ikigai

Word Count: 5,955

Summary: Ikigai. (n.) a reason for being; the thing that gets you up in the morning. Or, five times Logan Sanders doubted himself as a father, and one time he didn’t. Human!AU, Parents!Logicality with focus on Paternal Analogical dynamics with moments of Paternal Logince dynamics as well.

Warnings: cursing, crying, lots of self-doubt, adoption, hospitals, car accident mention, vague mentions of death/dying, absent father/abuse in the form of emotional neglect (not perpetrated by any canon characters), anxiety and panic-attacks, mentions of depression, fluff, softness.

A/N: This fic kind of happened by accident almost. I hope it’s okay! Got some mixed feelings about it. I hope you enjoy. Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. Shout-out to @creativenostalgiastuff for her help in brainstorming a few things for this fic.

 I.

The hospital linoleum floor is waxed so thoroughly that Logan thinks he can see his reflection between his shoes. The small room is crowded with nurses and a doctor as they prepare the person in the bed to move to recovery. Logan promises to check up on her soon. She gives him a tired but content smile. He does his best to stay out of the way, shifting along the wall to stand by the window that has its blinds drawn.

“Logan,” his husband says in a quiet voice.

“Yes?” Logan looks up, coming up suddenly short at the sight before him.

Patton’s flop of brown curls fall messily into his eyes. The fluorescent lights above them reflect in the lens of his glasses, even as his gaze is latched onto the bundle of cream-colored blankets in his arms. Nestled against his chest, Patton looks down at the newborn in his arms with something in his eyes that Logan can’t quite pinpoint. Love, clearly. But something else at the same time. Devotion, perhaps.  

“You wanna hold Virgil?” Patton asks, finally glancing up to meet his husband’s eyes. It’s then that Logan can see the beginnings of tears forming in the corner of Patton’s eyes.

Logan is an astrophysicist. His entire life had always centered on figuring out the universe and humanity’s place in it. He worked in fields of science and research, frequently writing long reports, dissertations, and essays that utilized precise words to explain complex phenomena. Logan understood how stars were created and destroyed, he understood patterns of behavior in the universe, and he situated those understandings in language understood by users of scientific research journals and the general public alike. He could write and speak eloquently on the complexities of String Theory in both scientific jargon and in plain English. Words rarely escaped the scientist.

He finds words failing him entirely now.

Logan nods, accepting the bundle that Patton eases gently into his arms. He cannot find the words to explain why the breath leaves his lungs so entirely when he looks down at the infant in his arms. He knows suddenly and intensely that this tiny little person in his arms is the most wonderful, breathtaking thing he’s ever seen in his life. Virgil.

Logan had always been a man of science. But a small part of him—distant and quiet but with complete conviction—can’t help but think he’s holding a miracle. He feels a sudden fear grip his lungs and squeeze at his throat. I don’t know how to be a dad, Logan realizes with a faintly dizzying surge of uncertainty. He tries to swallow the fear down.

“Hello,” Logan says softly to him. His voice comes out a whisper. “Welcome to the world, Starlight.”

II.

Logan hears the wail from his three-year old’s bedroom and shares a glance with his husband. The alarm clock on the dresser reads 11:32 PM in green block numbers. Patton gives Logan a worried look before they both roll out of bed and pad their way down the hall. Virgil had been having nightmares the past few nights. He rarely remembered them with any specificity, but they usually involved some kind of monster that was coming to get him.

“Daddy!” Virgil gasps from his bed when Logan opens the door. “There’s a monster.”

Logan sighs softly, moving to the edge of Virgil’s bed and taking a seat. Virgil has a blanket with the constellations on it on top of his head and wrapped around him so that only his face was visible. “Santa” had given it to Virgil in his stocking last Christmas. Virgil more-or-less carried it around with him everywhere.

His eyes are red and puffy. His knees are pulled up against his chest under the blanket, effectively turning himself into a ball.

“Virgil,” Logan says as his son shuffles closer to him, “I can promise you that there is no monster.”

“Yes there is!” Virgil insists. “I heard it!”

“Monsters aren’t real,” Logan explains patiently. “Sometimes our brains get confused, though.”

“It’s under my bed,” the three-year-old wails. Patton takes a seat by the foot of the bed, giving Virgil a soft and sympathetic look.

Logan purses his lips in thought. “I’ll check under the bed for monsters. Okay?” Virgil sniffles in response as Logan stands up from the bed and lowers himself to the floor, peering under Virgil’s bed. He sees a pair of socks, a couple of toys, and a coloring page. Definitively no monsters.

Logan jumps back up to his feet. “No monsters, Virgil.”

“You scared it away!” Patton adds on brightly. He shares a glance with Logan. It’s too fast for Logan to understand what his husband is trying to convey.

Virgil shakes his head adamantly. “You just can’t see it.”

“It’s invisible,” Logan repeats, managing to keep the frustration out of his voice. He can help best when he can rationalize away irrational concerns. Logan doesn’t know how to get Virgil to believe him. Imagination is a powerful instrument, and Logan doesn’t know to combat it.

He doesn’t know how to help his son feel safe, and something about that bothers Logan more than he’s willing to admit.

Patton suddenly straightens up a little, his eyes brightening. “I may have just the thing, kiddo. Stay here with daddy.” Patton jumps up from the bed and hurries down the hall. Through the doorway that is still open, Logan sees Patton slip into their own bedroom and close the door behind him.

Logan sits beside Virgil again, wrapping an arm around him when his son presses against his side. The astrophysicist leans his head back against the headboard. Virgil seems to relax under his arm a bit, and unfurls the blanket from around his head and looks down at the constellations on it.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“What do you like best?”

Logan leans his cheek on the top of Virgil’s head, sleepiness beginning to creep back to the edges of his consciousness, and looks at the blanket in his son’s lap. “Which constellation?” he asks to clarify Virgil’s meaning. His son nods. Logan hums thoughtfully. “Perhaps Pyxis Nautica. It means ‘mariner’s compass’.” He points it out on Virgil’s blanket.

“Mar… Marin… Mariminer?”

Logan chuckles softly and kisses the top of Virgil’s head. “Mariner. It means ‘sailor’.”

Patton comes back with what Logan recognizes as a bottle of Febreze with the label peeled off. Logan frowns, his brow furrowing in confusion. Patton winks at him.

“I found it!” he announces, brandishing the bottle.

Virgil sits up a bit more against Logan’s side. “What’s that?”

Patton holds the blue spray bottle closer for Virgil’s inspection, whispering conspiratorially. “It’s Monster-Be-Gone spray. You see, your dad worked really hard to make the perfect concoction that is scientifically proven to banish all monsters! All you gotta do is spray it around the room, and then they run away.”

Over the top of Virgil’s head, Logan quirks an eyebrow. Virgil turns huge eyes onto him, and Logan schools his expression into agreement, nodding sagely. He had the feeling that perhaps Patton’s far-fetched fabrication would be enough for Virgil. Perhaps imagination itself was really the only way to solve the problem in the first place.

“Whoa,” Virgil says, awed. “You promise it works?”

“I promise,” Patton insists emphatically. “Here. Let me show you.” Patton begins dousing Virgil’s bedroom in the lavender scented spray. He sprays under the bed, in the closet, around his window, and around his door. Virgil watches him closely and intently.

There’s a beat of silence, then Virgil gasps. “It works! I don’t hear the monster anymore.”

Logan releases a small sigh of relief. Patton is smiling. “No monster can possibly stand up to the Monster-Be-Gone. Any time you think something might be there, kiddo, we’ll give ‘em a good spray and they’re 100% guaranteed to poof away.”

Virgil nods, not protesting as Logan helps him lay down and get situated under his covers again. “T’anks,” Virgil says with a yawn. “You’re the best dads ever.”

Logan feels a small squeeze in his chest as he drops a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I love you, Virgil.”

“Love you, kiddo,” Patton adds.

Virgil is already asleep.

 III.

Logan comes rushing into the hospital lobby through the sliding door. The nurse at the front desk looks up from her computer as he approaches, doubtlessly taken in his unusually rumpled appearance. Strands of his hair fall into his eyes but he can’t be bothered to brush them back into their usually pristine position. His shirt is wrinkled. He is still wearing pajama pants.

“I am here for my husband,” Logan says in a steady voice, despite feeling distinctly unsteady in this moment. “I received a call that he had been in an accident.”

“What’s his name, sir?”

“Patton Sanders.”

The nurse types quickly and methodically, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her. Logan glances at the clock on the wall behind her. It’s 9 o’clock in the evening. Logan had received the call at exactly 8:17 PM. He had dropped Virgil off at Valerie’s at 8:30 on the dot. It had taken him twenty-two minutes to drive here, six minutes to park, two minutes to walk to through the front door.

Logan keeps the timetable in his head because numbers are precise and certain and nothing else in his life at this moment feels that way.

“Your name?”

“Logan Sanders.”

The nurse nods. “Your husband is currently in surgery, but a doctor will be out to update friends and family as soon as they have information to give you.”

Surgery. Logan’s grip on the edge of the front desk tightens and he thinks for a moment he might be physically ill. He swallows. Nods stiffly. Turns, walks fifteen steps, and sits down in an uncomfortable chair in the corner of the lobby by the window.

Patton had been on his way home from parent-teacher conferences at the elementary school where he teaches second grade. Half an hour before Logan had received the call from the hospital, Patton had called and asked Logan if he needed to get anything from the grocery on his way home. He had promised to be home soon when he heard Virgil ask Logan where Patton was.

Thirty minutes later, when the phone rang again, Logan definitely hadn’t been expecting to hear the words “you are listed as the emergency contact for a Patton Sanders, sir?” on the other end of the line. He hadn’t known what to say except to confirm. He mostly listened.

He still hadn’t known what to say when Virgil, with a sharper intuition than a ten-year-old should have, had said, “Dad? You look pale…What’s wrong?” Logan had simply told him to grab his backpack and put on shoes.

Logan had blindly grabbed a change of clothes for Virgil from the laundry that was in the middle of being folded, his son’s asthma inhaler, and anxiety medication. He shoved his feet into shoes that were either his or Patton’s—he wasn��t paying attention—and his car keys off the kitchen counter. He called Valerie on the way, and he only hoped that she knew his empty-sounding “thank you” was out of shock rather than a lack of gratitude.

Logan twists his wedding band around his finger and thinks about Patton’s cheerful voice telling Logan that he loved him—like Patton did at the end of all their phone conversations. He’d been the one to get Logan more comfortable with the phrase in the first place, after all. Logan had said it back. He’s grateful for that.

Patton brought a spontaneity to Logan’s life that had been missing for the longest time before they met in college. His friendliness and cheery disposition had, at first, been jarring for Logan. But Patton had seemed to find something worthwhile about the astrophysicist student, and Logan found Patton to be a light of empathy and compassion on a level that Logan did not always understand but did always deeply value.

What started as spontaneity gradually became a needed constant in Logan’s life. Patton balances him. Logan had long since forgotten what life had been like before him, except that it wasn’t nearly as joyful, dynamic, or vibrant. By the time Logan proposed, he knew that he didn’t ever want anyone else by his side. That feeling had somehow—impossibly—only grown stronger since adopting Virgil.

As if on cue, Logan feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and fishes it out. He sees Valerie’s face flash across his Caller ID and feels the uneasiness in his stomach turn to ice.

“This is Logan,” he answers.

To his surprise, it’s Virgil’s voice that responds to him. “Hi, dad.”

Logan swallows hard and scrubs a hand down his face. “Virgil, are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just… worried about dad.”

Logan feels his eyes suddenly start to sting and he squeezes them shut tightly against the feeling. “Yeah,” he replies. “Yeah, me too.” Logan does not know what else to say. He feels like a ship without a lighthouse to guide him. Patton is that light. Patton had always been that light…

“Is… dad gonna be okay?”

Logan does not know. He pulls the phone away from his face and takes in a deep, shaking breath. He feels like he is suddenly spiraling, and he doesn’t know how to correct course. Logan doesn’t know how to be a dad without his partner. They are a team. They had always been a team. Logan doesn’t know if he can be the dad that Virgil needs without Patton to help him. He doesn’t know how to do it alone.

Logan pulls the phone back to him and is honest. “I hope so, Virge.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” Logan tries to swallow past the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know whether it’s better right now to tell Virgil that he’s afraid too so that he doesn’t feel alone in his fear or if it’s better to pretend to be strong to assuage the feeling of fear. Patton would know. Patton always has an intuition for such things. “It’s… okay to feel scared.”

There’s a long silence. “Can I come be with you at the hospital?”

Logan bows his head, brushing quickly at his eyes under his glasses. He suddenly and desperately wants to say yes. He wants to hold on to Virgil and never let go. Hold on and pray that Patton is holding on too. I don’t want to do this without him.

“Perhaps tomorrow. You should try to get some rest tonight.”

There’s a long silence. Logan expects an argument. Instead, Virgil asks, “Do you promise to call as soon as the doctors show up?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I hear anything. I promise.”

“He calls me brave,” Virgil says suddenly. Logan doesn’t need to ask who he’s referring to. “But I don’t feel brave right now, dad. I feel really, really…. Scared, and I know you said it’s okay to feel that way but what if I’m letting him down when he needs me—”

“Whoa, Starlight,” Logan says quickly, the rare nickname slipping out as he hears the way Virgil’s voice starts to get panicky. “Listen to me, okay? We’re gonna breathe together.” Logan walks him through the 4-7-8 breathing technique he’d discovered when researching anxiety coping methods after Virgil got diagnosed a few months ago.

He waits until Virgil’s breathing on the other end sounds normal before he continues. “Bravery is not fearlessness,” he says calmly. “Fearlessness means you aren’t afraid of anything. Bravery means that you act despite the fear you feel. You can be scared and brave. Those are not mutually exclusive terms.”

Another pause. “Okay.”

“But right now, all we’re asking of you, Virge, is to try to get some rest. Okay?” Logan’s voice is suddenly thick. He coughs slightly in an effort to clear it.

“Okay. I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, Virgil.”

 IV.

Logan watches quietly from the doorway leading out of the kitchen as Roman Prince—his sixteen-year-old son’s best friend—ends the call and stands stock still in the middle of the Sanders’ living room. The window outside shows a dark sky and the silhouette of the neighbor’s houses against the night. The only light in the room comes from a lamp on an end-table by the couch. Above them, Logan can hear the shower running from Virgil’s bathroom and Patton watching TV upstairs.

Roman suddenly hurls his phone into the brown cushions of the couch. In the silence that follows, Logan hears the shaking inhale Roman sucks through a clenched jaw.

“Roman,” he says softly.

“I’m fine, Mr. Sanders,” Roman tells him without turning to face him.

Logan glances down at his shoes, then back up at the teen standing in the middle of his living room. “Your anger is understandable.”

Roman finally turns to face him. The golden lamplight reflects against the sheen in Roman’s eyes even as he shakes his head. “I’m not angry.”

Logan is silent. He sees Roman’s hand curl into fists moments before the teen shoves them deep into the pockets of his jacket. His eyes glance to the phone he’d thrown against the couch as if hoping there may be something that alights on the screen. It stays dark.

“I don’t need him, y’know?” Roman says, and Logan wonders for a moment if he may just be talking to himself. “I’ve never needed him, Mr. Sanders. I can take care of myself. I didn’t need him when I was seven and auditioning for the first time at the community theatre. I didn’t need him at my first opening night, or any other performance. I didn’t need him to teach me how to ride a bike, and I didn’t need him to teach me to cook, and I didn’t need him for the seventeen birthdays he didn’t show up to.”

Roman starts pacing, and Logan watches him quietly from his stationary space in the doorway. “I didn’t need him when I got outted at school two years ago. I didn’t need him to learn to drive, did I, Mr. Sanders?”

Logan meets his gaze, pretending his chest doesn’t tighten with Roman’s increasing desperation.  “No. You didn’t.”

Roman gestures towards the window, stalking away from Logan now to cross the room again. “And I’m not going to need him. No sir. Who says I even want him around? What can he teach me? I got accepted into college without him. I’ll dance at my wedding without him. I’ll build a family and I’ll be twice the father he never was in the first place--” Roman’s voice wavers, and he stops talking. He turned back to Logan, and it’s then that he realizes the tears that had been building in the corner of Roman’s eyes have finally overflowed.

Roman scrubs at his eyes with his hand and sinks himself into the couch beside his forgotten phone. “I just… I feel so stupid.”

Logan’s brow pulls together, and he steps further into the room. “Why?” He immediately thinks it might have been the wrong thing to say, from the way Roman suddenly freezes.

Logan had never done well with helping people through emotional distress. Empathy wasn’t something Logan was particularly adept at. That had always been more of Patton’s domain. But he can see the way Roman is coming apart at the seams on his couch, and Logan finds himself feeling as lost as Roman looks.

Logan doesn’t know what to do, and he doesn’t know what to say.

“Because…” Roman tries, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyes, “because I just… I wasted so much of my life trying to… to…” But Roman doesn’t really need to say the words that keep evading his grasp. Because Logan already knows.

The data was all there, as far as Logan had been concerned. He’d been noticing it ever since Roman and Virgil first started being friends when they were in fifth grade. He’d seen the surprised look Roman had given Virgil when he and Patton would ask the pair about their day whenever Roman was over at their house. He remembers their eighth-grade year when Roman tried out for the basketball team even though he’d devoted much of his life to pursuing the arts, and a passing mention that his dad had once been a high school basketball star. He made the team, but he saw the increasingly angry look in Roman’s eyes when he saw Logan and Virgil and Patton in the stands, and never the one person he’d joined for in the first place. Logan had seen the barely-hidden look of disappointment in Roman’s eyes after every theatre performance thereafter, when he scanned the crowd during the bows as if he was looking for someone.

It had been plain to Logan for some time. It didn’t mean that Logan knew what to say, but he figures he has to say something. Logan chooses to speak from honesty. Patton had always told him that was best.

“Roman,” Logan says, crossing the distance between them and crouching down to be eye-level with the teen sitting on the sofa. Roman looks up at him. Logan sighs. “I am aware that this may be… insignificant of me to say in this moment. But should you have any doubt… you are a talented, courageous, and dedicated young man. I am… grateful that you and my son became friends. And if nothing else, know that I am proud of you. Not only for your numerous achievements, but also for who you are as a person.”

Logan doesn’t know if it’s enough, or perhaps too much. He is not Roman’s dad in any official capacity, though the affection Logan feels for the teen before him does bare comparison to the love he feels for his own son. He had known Roman long enough to see him try and fail and succeed and everything in-between. He’d seen Roman get figuratively back up again and again and again, and if Roman were his son… Logan can’t help but feel he’d be damn proud of him.

But Roman stares at him with wide eyes, and Logan can’t help but feel he may have mis-stepped somehow. Logan’s lips press into a line before he opens his mouth to apologize—

And then promptly finds himself with an armful of the teen as Roman launches himself straight into Logan in a desperate hug. He can feel Roman shaking against him, can feel his shirt getting damp, and Logan only hopes that he hasn’t upset Roman further. It was the exact opposite of what he’d been trying to do.

“Roman,” he tries, “if I said something that upset you, I sincerely apologize—”

“No, Mr. Sanders,” Roman says hurriedly, pulling back and sniffling. His eyes are red and Logan can see tears still falling. Roman brushes at them, his face coloring in embarrassment. “I…” he swallows thickly, and seems to re-think what he’d been about to say. “Don’t apologize. I’m… thank you, sir.”

Logan gives him a small, kind smile. “You do not need to thank me, Roman. Especially when I spoke only the truth.”

Roman’s voice catches a little in his throat again, and he coughs. He wipes the back of his hands against his eyes. “I… Mr. Sanders, would it…. Be alright if I slept here for the night?”

“Of course. I’ll grab some pillows and a few blankets, as it can get cold in here during the night. If you want to grab a shower—after Virgil is done, of course—there is a spare set of towels in the bathroom down here.” Logan stands up, running through the mental checklist. “I generally arise early in the morning, but I promise to do my best to not wake you. If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of snacks in the pantry and you are welcome to help yourself, though I do encourage you to not eat too much as it’s already late and you should try to get optimal rest.”

Roman makes a sound that sounds almost like a laugh. “Okay. Thank you.”

 V.

Logan is doing the dishes when he glances over at his seventeen-year-old son, sitting at the kitchen table with his fingers buried in his hair. He’s scowling darkly at his homework. Logan’s quick glance over his shoulder two hours ago had been enough for Logan to know it’s chemistry homework—Virgil’s hardest class, if his passing comments to Patton during dinner last night had been anything to go by. Logan rinses off a plate and sets in the dishwasher.

Virgil had been acting unusual for the majority of the time that Logan had been home. He’d been unusually brusque with Patton when asked to set the table for dinner and hadn’t eaten as much as he usually did. He’d seemed…. tense. His shoulders hunched, barely making eye contact, barely speaking—and a tendency to be monosyllabic when he did. All indicators, from Logan’s previous experience and knowledge, that pointed to today being a particularly bad day for Virgil’s anxiety.

“Virgil?”

“Mm?”

Logan grabs a sponge and scrubs out a pot, keeping his attention on the sink. “If assistance with your chemistry would be beneficial to you, I would be more than happy to provide it.”

“I’m fine, dad.”

Logan places the pot in the dishwasher and closes it before turning off the faucet. “You do not need to be… ashamed of requiring help.”

He sees Virgil’s grip on pencil tighten. “I’m fine.”

Logan sighs. “Virgil, you appear to have been stuck on the same problem for the past hour—”

“For crying out loud, dad,” Virgil snaps, shoving back from the table. “It’s not the chem, okay? Sorry for not being fast enough at it for you, but I’m fine! I’m fine. For once in my life I actually understand this shit, I just—” Virgil is speaking faster now. His voice sounds strained. “It’s all the other shit that I can’t—I can’t understand, like why I can’t just… just… fuck.”

Virgil shoves his hands harshly into the pockets of his hoodie as his voice cuts off. He rushes out of the room and Logan hears a door slam shut. From where the bang sounds in the house, Logan quickly understands that it’s not Virgil’s own room. It’s the bathroom.

Logan frowns. There were many things that Logan didn’t understand about what Virgil just said. Strong language aside, something certainly seemed to be troubling him. Logan may not know what, but if it was a cognitive distortion, perhaps Logan could help him think through it.

Logan sighs again, drying his hands off on the towel before following after his son. The door is closed. Logan raps a knuckle against the door. “Virgil?”

He hears a faucet turn off. “Go away. Please.”

“I wish to be of assistance. But I can’t help if you don’t talk to me and tell me what is going on.”

He hears a huff of frustration. “You wanna know what’s going on, dad? I don’t even know! I’m a fuck-up of a kid with fucked up anxiety and maybe depression and I can’t even do my fucking homework without being a burden on everyone and everything. You can’t help me. Nobody can. So just… leave me alone.” He hears Virgil’s voice crack through the door.

Logan leans his head against the closed door. He doesn’t know what to say, really. When Virgil’s cognitive distortions turned inwards towards himself, Logan had always struggled to get him to disentangle them. Logan could get Virgil to look at situations and talk through them, as long as the stressors were external. When they became internalized, experience told Logan that Virgil would absently nod along and not believe a word Logan was telling him.

Logan doesn’t know how to help him in this moment. And it clenches something in Logan’s chest to admit that to himself.

Still, he can try, can’t he?

“Virgil Sanders, you are not a burden on any of us. And you are not alone, though I understand you may feel that way.”

Silence. Logan opens his mouth to continue speaking, but he doesn’t know what else to say that will help his son on the other side of the door. All the same, Logan refuses to abandon Virgil right now. Logan is not a believer in empty platitudes. He never spoke for sentiment alone, preferring to back the words he expressed with actions.

So Logan does the only thing that he thinks will show Virgil he means what he says. He sits down on the floor in the hall across from the door. And he waits.

Almost an hour later, the door opens and Virgil steps out, wiping at his eyes. He stops short at the sight of Logan sitting outside the door in the hall. Logan pushes himself to his feet.

“You… Were you out here the entire time?” Virgil asks, with an expression that Logan doesn’t know how to read.

“Yes,” Logan replies simply, confused at the way Virgil is staring at him. “I told you that you were not alone—” Logan stumbles back a step as Virgil launches himself straight into his dad’s chest.

Logan doesn’t hesitate to return his hug.

 +1

The night air is calm and quiet. A gentle late spring breeze plays with the loose strands of Logan’s hair as he sits on the front porch of the house. Crickets and chatter from inside the house create a background of sound against which distant thunder rumbles. Logan takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. Behind him, someone opens the front door and Logan hears cheerful shouting and music flood from the house and out into the night before the door closes. Footsteps creak against the wooden porch floor.

“Hey, dad.”

Virgil sinks himself into the rocking chair beside his father. Logan glances at him as he does so. In the back of his mind, Logan finds it hard to believe that his son just graduated college. It hadn’t seemed quite that long ago that Logan had been laying on his back with Virgil under the stars teaching him the different constellations.

“Evening,” Logan greets. He quirks an eyebrow. “The festivities a bit much?”

Virgil huffs an amused laugh. “Roman’s had a bit too much and is trying to convince dad to start Disney karaoke.”

Logan smiles. “It would not take much to convince him, I’m afraid.”

“Which is why I got the heck out of there.” Virgil sighs and leans back into the chair, rocking it back and forth slightly. He slips his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, staring out across the yard.

Logan glances at him. “Are you all right?”

Virgil meets his gaze quickly, then nods and looks back out at the night sky. “Yeah, actually. I’m good.” His voice is subdued a bit, but calm. He sounds like he means it. “Glad to be graduated… I think.”

“You aren’t sure?” Logan remembers the sunken eyes and tense shoulders he’d seen his son come home with on the holidays, brushing off concern and questions. College had been hard for Virgil. And stressful. Though he’d come out on the other side of those four-and-a-half years with a respectable GPA and a degree under his belt, Logan would have expected that his son would be ready to wash his hands of higher education. At least for the time being.

Virgil sighs, pausing before he answers. “I mean, I won’t lie, dad. I’m glad to be done with the tests and projects and paper-writing. But the real world is…” He trails off, shrugging.

“Intimidating,” Logan finishes for him.

“Yeah.” Beside him, Virgil rocks the chair back and forth, back and forth. The wood creaks a bit in a rhythm that blends with the distant storm they can see rolling in over the horizon line through the silhouette of the neighbor’s houses that surrounded theirs.

“I dunno,” Virgil says suddenly. “Maybe that’s dumb.”

Logan shakes his head. “On the contrary. I think perceiving the ‘real world’, as you call it, to be an intimidating space is… normal, for where you are in your life. It is more than understandable.”

Virgil scoffs, but there’s no real malice in it. “No offense, dad, but I don’t think you find anything intimidating.”

“Falsehood,” Logan replies simply.

“Yeah? What have you ever found intimidating?”

Fatherhood. “Plenty of things, Virgil. I am not as brave as you may believe.”

He can feel Virgil’s gaze on him now. Logan keeps his own trained out on the stars and the distant storm. “Bravery isn’t the same thing as fearlessness, it’s acting in spite of the fear you feel. You know how taught me that?”

“Hm?”

“You did. The night dad was in that wreck when I was ten.”

Logan smiles faintly, affection warming in his chest.  “I’m surprised you remember that,” he admits.

“I remember a lot of stuff you guys taught me. I mean, I wouldn’t be here without it, y’know?”

Logan looks over at his son. His long bangs still fall across his eyes, he still has dark eyeshadow smudged underneath them, he is still wearing the plaid-patched hoodie that he’d had for God-knows how long. Even in the dark, though, Logan can see something earnest in Virgil’s gaze that is meeting his unwaveringly. As if Virgil is trying to get Logan to understand something, except that Logan isn’t quite sure what it is.

“It’s our job to help you and support you,” Logan says softly after a moment.

“Sure, yeah, I guess.” Virgil sits up a little more, leaning forward towards his father. “But… You and dad are the best parents I could’ve asked for. I don’t know what I would’ve done without either one of you. And any time I start to get like, freaked out about the future and everything…I just…. I remember all you taught me, yeah? And it helps me feel a little better.”

Logan blinks at him. He doesn’t know what to say and there’s an unexpected lump forming in his throat that he swallows past.

Virgil glances down at his shoes and keeps talking. “I know I wasn’t always the easiest kid to manage—” Logan opens his mouth to reply but Virgil presses on—"but you never once gave up on me. You forgave me before I ever apologized, and you were patient when I was frustrated, and at every single twist and turn—and we’ve had a lot of them—you were there, dad. You let me explore the world for my own but any time I got lost, you were that compass that kept pulling me back to North. Like Pyxis.”

Logan is grateful for the dark because his eyes are stinging a little. To his surprise, he can see a slight sheen to Virgil’s eyes too. But there’s also a small smile.

He sniffles and brushes his hoodie sleeve across his eyes. “You and dad need to go on a vacation or something now that your job is done, yeah?” He gives his dad a crooked grin.

Logan runs a hand across his mouth and looks back at his son. “We are always going to be your dads, Virge. Our job isn’t over just because you’ve graduated.” Virgil huffs a laugh. Logan stands up and presses a kiss to the top of his head. Virgil leans into Logan’s form a little.

“I’m so proud of you,” he adds. He waits until Virgil pulls away first before he pulls back to head inside. “Congratulations on graduating. Welcome to the world, Starlight.”

///

Tags: @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge, @bibbidy-bobbity-booyah, @procrastinations-my-middle-name, @theburntesttoast, @monroig

[straychesire]

Sage & Lavender

Dreamcatcher’s Dami x Female Reader

It all started because you couldn’t. sleep. A concoction of stress, anxiety, with a dash of intermittent insomnia made it particularly challenging to get rest. It didn’t help that you were having several challenges at work: new co-workers that were determined to get you into trouble, your boss going through a divorce (which made him especially irritated), and a new software in which made no logical sense whatsoever. 

The culmination of all of that nearly brought you to your breaking point - which is when you noticed the odd little shop near your work: Avalon. The building was an old home and looked a bit rustic, with a somewhat mystical quality to it. Various glass bottles were hung from the tree beside the entrance, catching the resting sun’s last light and reflecting it all over the ground. You stood outside for what felt like several minutes before finally ascending the rickety few steps and pulling the door open; a soft bell announced your presence, giving a soothing tinkle.

The first room was filled with nicknacks of various cultures and religions. A red tapestry featuring a golden dragon seemed to pull you in, it’s eyes boring into your soul. It appeared to be a traditional Chinese dragon. You couldn’t help but run a few delicate fingertips over the fabric, feeling the bumps of thread beneath your touch. Several statues of golden Buddhas from different Asian countries sat on a shelf to the right of the tapestry, each a different size.

You spun on your heels, slow and entranced as you took in the organized clutter of the space. A few maneki-neko sat in a corner of the room, their cute little paws raised in the air - a corner which you quickly deemed the “cat corner”. There were handmade bags pilled up on a shelf, along with pillows (that you assumed were used for meditation, based on their style and orientation) along with clothing lined the other wall. 

You stepped through the doorway, pushing aside the beaded curtain, met with a giant room covered in crystals and gemstones. You noted a couple doorways on the left-side of the room, but your focus seemed to be being pulled by an unnamed force that led you straight to an old fireplace. Various crystal balls adorned the mantle, but one in particular caught your attention: it was light pink in color, maybe four or five inches in diameter. It sat upon a gold holder, with four legs that resembled an old claw-foot bathtub.

“Can I help you with anything?”

The voice made you jump, your hand flying up to press against your beating heart. The employee stood beside you, her hands clasped behind her back as she made eye-contact with you. She didn’t seem fazed at all by your dramatics, which helped you calm down quicker than you would have. 

“Um, actually,” you smoothed your hands down your shirt, tugging on the hem as you cleared your throat, “...yes.”

The woman simply raised an eyebrow, signaling for you to continue. That small action effected you more than you’d like to admit. 

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping? I’ve tried, you know, drinking tea before bed and the sounds of the ocean and all that, but none of it’s worked.” You hugged yourself, absentmindedly tapping your right thumb against your upper arm. “Do you...have anything that could possibly help?”

“Are nightmares your trouble? Or is it other things, such as stress and listlessness?”

“No nightmares. Mostly stress.” Your body heaved when you gave a great sigh. “Some bouts of insomnia, but that seems to only happen when I’m extremely stressed.” 

She nodded, swiftly moving over to the many baskets that held crystals of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The first stone she grabbed was lavender in color, maybe half an inch long and imperfect in shape. She held her hand out, asking for your own. Admittedly, you felt your heart beat a little faster as you place your hand into hers. You took in the sight of her slender fingers, short nails coated with a nude nail polish that nearly matched her skintone. Her movements were swift as she flipped your hand around so the back of yours pressed against the palm of hers. She pressed the smooth, cool stone into your open palm.

“Lepidolite. It’s the ideal stone for tackling sleep issues. Among other things, this stone will help calm your mind and ease any stress. You can put it on your bedside table, or even place it beneath your pillow for maximum effectiveness.” You nodded, pulling your gaze from the small stone to the employee’s eyes. You were taken aback to find that she was already looking at you - her intense eyes nearly sending you into a trance.

She reached down, picking up something that your ignorant self deemed to be quartz. It was smooth, bewitchingly so. The low light danced off of the surface giving the appearance that it was glittering. The stone was a few inches in length, and appeared more like a pillar. It was also pressed into your hand, reaching from the bottom of your palm to the bottoms of your fingers.

“Selenite. This will help your mind calm even more and become more clear. Use this wand before you sleep: take a moment to breathe, dragging the wand through the air in front of you from the top of your head to your core. Doing this will pass the crystal over your chakras and will help bring clarity.” She gave you the smallest of smiles. “If you have a cat, I recommend keeping it where they cannot get to it. They love things that roll.”

You laughed, imaging your own cat at home having a field day with this...wand, she called it. “Got it.”

Without moving away, she pushed a sky blue stone into your hand alongside the other small stone. You weren’t sure when she grabbed that one, but maybe you had been too caught up in checking her out to notice. “Celestite. This will help push chaotic thoughts out of your mind and bring you serenity. You can place this stone wherever you place your lepidolite.” Her nail tapped against the purple stone, a subtle way to remind you which was which. 

She closed your palm around your new crystals, her fingers lingering against your own before letting go. The stones clicked as they bumped each other within your closed fist. Her movements were swift as she walked behind the glass counter, her aura beckoning you to follow. She reached for your hand, gently pulling the crystals from your hand and setting them onto the counter top. 

Before you could say anything, she placed a brown bottle next to your - well, her - findings. A black spray-cap sat screwed into the top of the bottle, and your eyes darted down to the white wrap around label. Decorated with small stars and a crescent moon, the label read ‘calming pillow spray’ with, what you assumed were ingredients, listed below: sage and lavender.

“I’m sensing that you’re more stressed than you lead on earlier.” Her voice caused your head to pick up. “Spray this a few times onto your pillow before you sleep, and after you meditate with the wand.” Her fingers tapped the white stone wand silently. “Remember to breathe in deep, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Taking in the scent of lavender will help you become calm, while sage can help with insomnia. I sometimes spray this in the air when I’m stressed, just to help me relax.” A small giggle left her lips, and her smiling face left you absolutely enchanted.

You found yourself smiling back. “Thank you. So much, for all your help.”

The clicking of her fingertips typing on the computer filled the air. “Of course. It’s why I’m here.” 

You watched with unwavering intent as she placed each item on their own sheet of purple tissue paper, showering them with a mystery mixture of crushed herbs. Whatever it was, the smell made you feel more relaxed than you had felt in weeks. 

After paying, you grabbed your bag from her and started to leave the shop. But before you even made it halfway through the crystals room, you stopped and turned around. “Hey. What’s your name?”

“Dami.”

You bit your bottom lip before smiling. “Thank you very much, Dami. I hope to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

The images of Dami crowded your mind as you made your way home. You could still feel her gaze on you, her touch against your hand and the warm, homely feeling that you got when you were around her. You hadn’t realized how much she and that shop affected you until you stepped outside, the sunlight falling down to kiss your skin and hair.

It was a decent drive to your apartment, the brown bag sat on your passenger’s seat the whole ride home.

The moon had risen before you were able to sit down in your bedroom and open up the purchases from earlier. As you reached in, your fingers brushed against what felt like card stock. It proved to be a business card, the word Avalon across the front in a fantastical font. You flipped it over, eyes widening a tad at the scribbled phone number. Beneath the number was a short yet sweet message:

“Sleep well and sweet dreams. May we meet again.

-Dami”

[kenyako2020]

Chapter 1: What is your wish?

Miyako circled the perimeter of her room for the tenth time.The girl was particularly uncomfortable that day and Poromon didn't know what else to do.

“I'm in the dark. Could you tell me exactly what happened?” The Digimon questioned.

“Did you know that my psychologist recommended me to keep a diary with dreams and confessions?” The lavender-haired girl accentuated dramatically.

“I'm aware of that. It's a padlocked notebook. Isn't it?” The pink sphere remembered and Miyako nodded. “Well, what's the matter?”

“The problem is that... I wanted to keep it out of the reach of my brothers, so I kept it in the supply backpack and took it to the Digital World.” Theatrical, the girl grabbed her hair and sank to the floor, propping herself up on her knees.

"Then the diary got lost in the digital world." Poromon concluded and saw his partner fall to her knees dramatically on the carpet.

“UNIVERSE, WHY DO YOU HATE ME? “The female complaint echoed through the apartment.

“There must be something we can do.” Poromon tried to calm yours partner down.

"Certainly. Let's go back to the last place we were and find my diary." She declared and stood up, resolute.

“Koushiro-san said that it is dangerous to open a portal on your personal computer." He tried to bring rationality to the girl.

"I know I know." Disdainful, she waved her hand in the air, trivializing the information. “We are not going to have any problems. I'm going to open the portal, come on, get the diary and go back home. Everything in the blink of an eye!"

“Oh girl, you have no correction!" The Digimon whimpered and surrendered to the girl's whims.

“Bingo!” She raised her thumb, typed in the coordinates and picked up the digital device. “Digi-portal open! Digi-partner here we go!” After the iconic slogan, the two were sucked into the computer.

★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★His heart was relieved, because if something was not eaten, it was very unlikely to attract the attention of a Digimon. As such, your personal information was completely secure... NO!

This couldn't be happening!

Kaiser was sitting on a rock, writhing. His mocking laugh echoed in the environment with each line read.

“Every evil genius needs a little rest and fun, but those are the most ridiculous things I've ever read!" The young tyrant was affected by a coughing crisis.

“HOW DO YOU DARE?” Without thinking in the consequences, the girl fired at the evil genius.

“But ... huh?” With a start, the villain jumped back and dodged the girl, who fell awkwardly. “That's right, silly girl, lean at my feet!” He scoffed.

“You bastard. Trying to dominate the digital world is bad enough, but reading a girl's diary is low, even for you!” Angrily, she stood up and advanced on Kaiser.

“What? Is it my fault if you left your things around?” He lifted the object high while she was on tiptoe, trying to reach it.“I didn't leave it there; it got lost! Besides, it had a really strong lock. Where is it?” She screamed in stress.

── ✦ ── ❖ ───

He remembered when he found that pink glitter object in the middle of the field. In fact, it was padlocked. It was immensely laborious to break that seal.

“I found it open...” The emperor lied without shame. “Isn't that right, Wormmon?” He asked as he continued to avoid the girl's advances.

“Not really...” Wormmon confessed, innocent. “You took an hour trying to open it and threw the lock in the lake!”

“You are a liar, dirty!!!” Shouted Miyako.

“Stupid bug!!!" Kaiser offended the little caterpillar. "That's why I punish you!"

“Return my belonging!" The girl was outraged.

“Finders keepers, losers weepers! And... You don't give me orders!” Kaiser dodged wandering around with the object lifted.

In an attempt to help, Hawkmon threw a feather at Kaiser and attached his cloak to the trunk of an old tree.

“Return her diary!“ Miyako's partner was incisive.

"Don't mess with Ke... M-my master!“ Wormmon trapped Hawkmon with a sticky web.

The two Digimon unleashed a silly fight, while Miyako and Kaiser faced each other.

“What are you going to do now?” The evil one provoked.

Inoue had to think fast. She couldn't fight him. She could not leave her secrets in the hands of the enemy. She reached into her backpack hoping to have something she could use, but she only had a bottle of perfume, which was sprayed on the tyrant's face.

The emperor coughed, sneezed and was very angry. The heavy drops clouded the dark lenses. While he was distracted to get ready and compose himself, Miyako invested everything to recover his diary.

The two tangled and fell into a hole that mysteriously opened in the trunk of the old tree.

Hawkmon and Wormmon stopped fighting and ran to help, but it was too late... Only a piece of Kaiser's torn cloak remained, stuck in the feather that hawk threw.

“Hey, are they gone?“ Wormmon asked.

“The tree absorbed them... How crazy was that?“ Hawkmon put the feather back and kicked the tree to find out. “I'm going to have to ask Digidestined for help.”

“And I will stay here if they return...“ The emperor's ally announced.

∴ ═*× ∴ ❈ ∴× *═ ∴

The impact of the fall on the floor was completely absorbed by Kaiser's ass and, to make matters worse, Inoue fell with the helmet against the boy's mouth.

“Get off me, unbearable girl!“ He kicked hard.

“THERE… thick!” Inoue shouted indignantly. “There, my dear diary. I promise never to lose you again.” She pressed the object to her chest.

“Mimimimi... I didn't want that crap either.” Kaiser disdained, not accepting that he lost.

“Why, you didn't want to, but you were wasting your precious time flipping through the pages." Miyako accused without delay.

“Because I laughed a lot at your expense, wind-headed girl, useless!” He spoke, massaging his mouth.

“Better windhead than psychopath! Look, you broke my helmet." Complained showing the broken helmet.

“And you almost broke a tooth for me.” He took her helmet and threw it away. “Horrible crap in bad taste!”

She was going to start fighting when she realized they were in a cold, dark place, totally horrible.

“What is this place? How did we get here?” Miyako questioned, lost.

“You must have made a dimensional break with that high-pitched voice!” He tried to contact the slaves at his base, but nothing worked. "We're out of communication. Shit, this is exactly what I needed!"

“See, this is a punishment for stealing other people's things.” The girl sang mockingly.

“And why were you punished with me?” Superb, Kaiser launched the rhetoric.

“Ah?” She stopped, thoughtful. “Maybe because I was really careless”. He whined dramatically .

“Look at you! You're still mommy's little girl.” He laughed as he looked for ways to get out, wherever that place was.

“Don't say nonsense, as we must be the same age. And... Looking closely." He approached measuring the height. “I am taller than you.”

“But your intellect is much lower. That is without a doubt.”And a heated argument started when the two wandered through the inhospitable place. When the entire repertoire of offenses was spent, the two fell silent at the same time. Which was perfect, because nobody wanted to be the loser of that fight.

His legs could no longer walk and hunger was already present. Both remained steadfast, they could not show weakness in the face of the enemy. Suddenly, a strange growl was heard.

“What was this?” Inoue questioned in alarm.

“How am I supposed to know? It must be some Digimon.” Kaiser knew the growl had left his stomach, but he would never admit it.

And Miyako grabbed the edge of the enemy's mantle that faced her. She couldn't see due to his glasses, but she felt petrifying disapproval.

“It's just... I was scared.” Miyako justified himself by leaving.

☆●☆●☆●☆●

Three hundred hours seemed to have passed and they were both destroyed and hungry. Inoue stopped and sat on an old log. Kaiser found his loophole to rest without showing weakness and installed himself on the opposite trunk.

“It's all your fault.” Kaiser accused Inoue.

“My fault? You violated my diary.”

“You lost in my territory. It was almost an invitation to read.” He defended himself. ”In the end, I just read childish nonsense!”

She thought about answering. Arguing with the enemy would be a good way to distract yourself from being away from home and without the company and protection of Hawkmon, but she was really terrified and opened her mouth in a childish cry that he didn't expect and didn't knows how to cope.

“OK? Kidding? Look at your size!” He provoked, but got no response.

The girl just cried.

“I'm cold, tired, hungry, afraid and accompanied by a delinquent!” Finally she vented.

“Hi?” He was surprised, taking offense. “Am I the bad company here? It's not me with my mouth open like a baby. Maybe you better be alone.”

“N-n-no... In a place like this?” She sobbed, stopping crying. “You wouldn't do that!”

“You would be relieved, since my presence is hateful” The boy scoffed.

“No. I'm sorry...” She murmured grudgingly and he sat down again.

He could go and leave her, but as unbearable as Inoue seemed to him, being alone there seemed worse.

Desperately, Miyako rummaged through his backpack and smiled when he found a chocolate bar. She removed the packaging and broke it in half, offering it to the enemy.

Kaiser blinked, doubtful and proud. He made a great effort to refuse, but at that moment survival was already speaking louder and he reached out, accepting anyway.

They ate in silence. And at that moment a glow started to emanate from a foreign object on the floor. Both had the same thought. “Digimental” They got up running.

“It belongs to whoever gets it first!” The boy scoffed.

“Keep your paw away from him. You are not worthy!” Exclaimed the girl.

They reached the object at the same time and started pulling against each other.

“Drop it, ambitious tyrant!”

“I wasn't like that when you needed my presence. Parasite!“

And this one pulled there and pulled here, exchanging offenses and accusations, the insured object exploded in a strong blue light. They moved away shading their eyes.

“WHO HAD THE DARE TO AWAKEN FROM MY SLEEP?“ A deep, frightening voice asked.

They opened their eyes, hesitant. It was only then that they realized that they ended up hugging each other in fright. They broke free and Kaiser fanned his clothes with disdain.

They aimed at the creature.

It was a gigantic being, endowed with a humanoid breastplate, whose lower body merged into bluish smoke, which was its coloring.

"We didn’t want to wake you up." Inoue murmured worriedly.

“I was just making fun of you. I wasn't even sleeping, in fact, I was really bored. So, you know how it works, three wishes!" He straightened up in the air, with his arms crossed behind the back of his neck. "1 - I cannot bring anyone from the dead! 2 - not make anyone fall in love! 3 - I cannot undo a wish! 4 - There’s no point in wishing for more wishes! "

"Hi? Who or what are you? And what are you talking about?" Kaiser asked confused.

"I am Geniemon, a Digimon with the ability to grant wishes and the two rubbed my lamp together, so there are three wishes."

The narrator's voice appeared providing all the information, such as level, family and attack strength. Nothing useful for our plot.

“Three wishes ... But there are two of us.“ Observed Inoue.

"The problem is not mine..." Replied Digimon genius.

“This madman will want to take over the world." The girl accused, but Kaiser seemed petrified to process the surreal occurrences. "I thought it was a lot of emotion for him. In that case, I will make my wish. Let me see... World peace, cure for all diseases in the world... Eradication of poverty... ”

"Wow! What a benevolent person!" Geniemon thought with admiration!

"I already chose! I want a perfect romantic date with the prodigious genius Ichijouji Ken!"

Inoue emphasized with joy and the Digimon fell to the ground, with a "droplets" on his head and, removing the previous thought.

"EXCUSE?" Kaiser cried out when he saw that the girl had wasted a precious desire. "HOW IS IT? WHAT IS IT? ROMANTIC DATE?" He was even more shocked when he understood her request. "NO CHANCES! I CHOOSE TO DRINK ACID!"

But it was too late for protests and both were enveloped in a strong blue light. The clothes have been modified to match the date; Miyako won a beautiful Lolita dress, a hairstyle with curls and rich adornments. She felt clean and fragrant as if she had just come out of a bath. Kaiser was no different...

Wait! No, I didn't mean that he won a dress!

Kaiser had his usual costume transformed into a beautiful suit, but his hair and glasses remained the same. It was also clean and very fragrant.

The two were seated at a round table with a beautiful flower arrangement and a luxurious chandelier in the center. The place was sumptuous, it looked like a ballroom in a medieval castle, decorated with beautiful stained glass, marble and stone statues, paintings and noble tapestries.

Miyako blinked, delighted with everything... Almost everything. Where was your beloved Ichijouji Ken? And why was Kaiser still there? She snarled.

“Why are you involved in my desire?" She pointed to the villain, who swallowed spittle fearing for his secret identity. "HEY GENIEMON!"She called furiously.

This Digimon genius was incompetent, how was Kaiser in his prince's shoes? She was going to tell you some good truths.

“I am also not happy to be here!“ Kaiser snapped, embarrassed by the girl's current appearance. It never occurred to her that she could be so beautiful without the usual digital warrior configuration.

“Shut up, usurper!”

The girl ordered, accusingly.

They were both about to start an argument when...

A delicious aroma invaded the room and the stomachs roared loudly. A proud Digitamamon came in wearing a cuca master's hat and an apron.

https://getinkspired.com/pt/dashboard/myStories/100308/chapter/276494/open/

Cover illustrated by Felipe Mukuro

[darkjanet2]

Drusilla's Soul Chapter 11 Part 1

Odaiba, Japan

A young boy woke up in the morning. TK was now 11 and it was his first day of school. He got up and yawned as he stretched his body. He had a good night's sleep. He glanced at his clock. It was 7:00 AM. before going to school. He got off the bed and looked at the calendar that marked a circle on schedule.

‘So today is the first day of school, and everything is normal.’ TK thought.

He looked outside the window, it was a normal day. People were busy and the vehicles passing by.

‘It’s been 3 years we've defeated Apocalymon.’ TK thought went to the bathroom to take a shower. He turned on a shower knob when the water was running. He undressed his pajama and threw into the laundry bin, and got into a nice, hot shower to wet his ivory skin. TK sighed blissfully as he grabbed a bar soap and loofah sponge rubbed together as it became suds and washed his body. He grabbed a 2-in-1 Shampoo & Conditioner and poured onto his head and washed it.

After he finished showering, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, and got out of the shower, and he began brushing his teeth. When he was done brushing his teeth for 5 minutes, he went to his bedroom to change clothes. He picked out his underwear, shorts, and socks from the dresser. He put on his underwear under a towel, then disrobed the towel. He then put on shorts and socks. He went to the closet and grabbed a yellow, long-sleeved and green torso shirt and put it on. TK brushed his blond hair to make it perfect.

TK went to the kitchen to make breakfast. He opened the cupboard and grabbed his favorite cereal was Honey Comb, then he grabbed a bowl and poured a cereal into a bowl, and then he opened a fridge to grab a milk, poured into the bowl, put the milk back in the fridge. And he started eating his breakfast.

After he finished his cereal, he was ready to go to school.

“I’m done, Mom. I’m leaving.” TK called his mother in her room.

“"I'm sorry that I can't go with you on your first day of school. I have to finish the article today." apologized Nancy, typing the keyboard.

“It’s okay, I can go by myself.” said TK, carrying a backpack while putting on a bucket hat, slipping into his green boots.

“See you later!” He bidded farewell to his mother.

He exited his home and went on his way to the elevator. He met two neighbors inside the elevator. There was a girl with long lavender hair that ran down her waist, a blue bandana that tied over her head, round glasses, wearing a dark pink dress under a light pink blouse, wearing dark purple tights that matched socks, and she had pink shoes.

And the small boy with brown hair in a short bowl cut, wearing a purple shirt, gray pants and brown shoes.

"How's it going?" The boy greeted them causally.

"Fine, thank you." The girl nodded her head at him and replied politely.

"Great!" The blonde boy smiled. "My name's TK, and my mom and I just moved into the building. I'm in fifth grade, class A, nice to meet you."

The girl brightened instantly. "Oh hi! My name is Yolei. Would you like to walk to school with us? We can talk as we walk, so we'll be able to get to know each other better. It'll be fun." Yolei gestured to the boy next to her. "Oh, and this is Cody."

Cody bowed politely, “Welcome to the building. Now come on, we don’t want to be late on our first day.” he smiled at the older boy.

"Let's do it." TK nodded at the both of them, and the lift closed behind him and carried on down towards the ground floor of the building.

"Hey Yolei, can you come over after school and fix my computer again?" Cody asked the lavender haired girl as they neared the school gates.

"Only if I get some of your mom's brownies, you know how much I love them!" Yolei bartered, always ready to jump on a chance for some of his mom's delicious brownies.

"Sure, she always makes extra anyway." Cody grinned. She didn't really, but he'd already asked her to make some for Yolei, having guessed what his friend would want in exchange for her services.

As the trio walked through the gate, they heard the sounds of a football game being played. TK glanced at the players briefly, but stopped dead when he saw sunlight glittering on a player's forehead - more specifically, on a player's goggles.

‘Tai?” TK thought.

Wild, messy dark brown hair, goggles nestled within it, and bright and warm amber eyes, blue t-shirt, brown shorts playing in the soccer field.

‘Am I seeing things?’ TK thought as he blinked his eyes. It morphed into a different boy who had frizzy burgundy hair, and dark brown eyes. He wears a dark blue short-sleeved hoodie, brown shorts, and socks and orange boots.

‘Besides, he’s in high school now. I’m seeing things.’ TK thought.

The player kicked the ball to the googled boy, but the player’s aim went flying straight to the blond boy, and he caught it.

"Thanks. Great catch." Davis walked up to TK, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"You look familiar." TK smiled, and tossed the ball to the football player. "Must be the goggles."

“Huh?” The burgundy haired boy had a puzzled look on his face.

“Hey! What are you doing? Bring the ball here!” The player shouted.

He snapped out of it, and booted the ball again.

TK walked away laughing softly to himself, shaking his head thinking to himself 'How could I ever have mistaken that kid for Tai? Tai's in high school now'.

Just as the bell was ringing for the first class of the day, Davis walked into his classroom. He sighed with relief when he saw his crush was still in the same class as him.

"What luck, you're in my class again Kari!" He called out to her as he went to sit down on the desk to her right. His crush stood and turned to face him. She hadn't changed much over the holiday, still wearing pink shirts, pink long fingerless gloves and yellow shorts, and still wearing the camera around her neck.

Kari smiled at him. "I wouldn't call that luck." And she sat down at her desk, eager to start the lesson for some reason.

"Hey, the weirdest thing just happened. This new kid said I reminded him of someone. Probably thinks I'm a movie star." Davis grinned at the brown haired girl in front of him, but she just cocked her head and made a "huh" noise.

A few minutes later

"I'm Mr. Hamisaki, I'll be your teacher." said Mr. Hamisaki.

Davis slumped in his desk as the teacher droned on. ‘Why did he have to be in the class with the BORING teacher?’ Davis thought as he glanced at Kari.

‘Well, at least I’m in Kari’s class’ He consoled himself.

"And I'd like you all to welcome a new student." He said, smiling.

‘Wait, what?’ Davis was suddenly at attention, staring at the blonde boy who thought he had looked familiar earlier.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm TK." The blonde boy introduced himself, smiling at the class.

"Please take a seat next to the girl with the camera around her neck." As the teacher directed TK, Davis looked around rapidly and groaned. Just his luck, blondie would have to sit next to Kari.

Kari turned and smiled at TK as he sat next to her. That was normal for Kari, she smiled at everyone. The surprise came for Davis when the boy opened his mouth and talked to Kari.

"Together again, huh, Kari?" As he greeted her.

“Just like old times.” Kari smiled.

‘ He’s trying to make a move on with my girl!’ Davis thought in jealousy.

And the teacher began to lecture about the algebra, TK and Kari talked quietly and energetically.

“Our teacher looks like... Ogremon.” joked TK.

Kari couldn’t help but laugh at the joke.

At Lockers Room

"So TK, how does your mom like the new apartment?" Kari asked her best friend as she put her bag into her locker.

"She hasn't seen it yet, she's been on the computer the whole time." TK laughed, doing the same thing. Before they could delve any further into idle chit chat, Davis turned the corner of the hallway, panting incredibly hard.

"Hey buddy!" Davis glared angrily right at the hat wearing boy. Kari and TK stared at him, confused as to why he was so angry with TK.

“His name is not ‘Buddy’, it’s TK.” said Kari, annoyed.

"Alright TJ or JB, or whatever it is. How do you know Kari!?” Davis glared angrily at TK.

TK looked confused. “Huh? How do I know her?” He tilted his head and laughed. “ Oh, I get it! You're jealous of me”

"I'm not jealous of anybody!" yelled Davis.

Davis looked ready to throw a punch, but was stopped by the sound of footsteps behind him. A purple-haired girl holding a folded sheet of paper turned the corner Davis had turned not a long time ago and yelled "HEY!"

TK recognized her instantly. "Oh, hi Yolei."

"You're Kari Kamiya, aren't you?" Yolei asked as she walked up to Kari.

"That's right. Why do you ask?" Kari replied, looking puzzled as to why she was being asked who she was by a girl TK knew.

"Well," Yolei started, then opened the piece of paper. "Are you related to Tai? He sent this to my computer." Kari and TK stared in shock for a moment at the text on the page.

“My brother needs us!” said Kari.

The four of them run down the hallway and along the way they run into none other than the computer genius and bearer of the Crest of Knowledge, Izzy Izumi wearing his uniform and walking up the stairs.

“Izzy!” exclaimed Yolei.

“Hey Yolei, I'm glad I found you. I need to use the computer room right away!” said Izzy.

Yolei clasped her hand in excitement. “You mean the legendary former computer club president is actually looking for me, I'm honoured!”

“What's up Izzy?” asked TK.

Kari quickly showed Izzy the email. “Tai sent us an urgent email!”

Izzy nodded, “Yeah, I know; I got one too! I was just about to send Tai an answer when the battery ran out on my D-terminal. I knew I should've recharged it after I played Trigonometry Privy on the internet last night. Oh, boy, talk about fun. I got him!” said Izzy, sending a message to Tai.

Yolei was intrigued by the Digital World.

“What's the Digital World? Is that a new amusement park? I bet they have some great rides.” said Yolei.

TK and Kari tried to come up with something, not sure how to respond and Davis realized he had heard "Digital World" somewhere before.

“I've heard about it from Tai once, he said there were a lot of Digimon there, whatever they are.” said Davis.

“You know Tai?” asked TK.

“They play on the same soccer team.” said Kari.

“Hey guys, I've got an idea, how 'bout we all go to the Digital World?” asked Yolei.

Luckily, they are saved by the untimely arrival of Cody.

“Yolei, weren't you coming over? Remember you were gonna fix my computer.” inquired Cody.

“Oh…sorry I forgot!” Yolei apologized and went to Cody to fix his computer.

“If Tai's there, the gate to the Digital World's open!” Izzy said. “We’re going back to the Digital World! Prodigious!”

Davis said, “I'm going with you!” He wanted to come to the Digital World, as long as Izzy, TK, and Kari have their Digivices out and they can’t do anything to help Davis right now.

“That's impossible. Not just anybody can go, y'know. You need a Digivice.” said TK.

Davis began to argue. “Listen, TC, if you can go, so can I.”

Suddenly, the screen flashed and 3 beams of light flew out of the screen. The blue light stopped right in Davis' hand and the red and yellow flew out of the hallway into Yolei and Cody's hands.

Davis showed what he just received and it was a Digivice but it was much different. This Digivice was mostly the shape of an oval with a bigger antenna. There were more buttons and blue highlights on both sides.

“Whoa! What’s this?!” Davis exclaimed, holding out a blue Digivice.

“A Digivice!” surprised TK.

“It's a different model than the ones we have.” said Kari, glanced at her original digivice.

Izzy looked at the gate. “We'd better go now while the gate to the Digital World is still open.”

“Yeah, but how long will it stay open for?” asked TK.

“I don't care. I'm going to help my brother.” said Kari.

“Hey, can I get Donkey Madness on this thing?” Davis asked.

Izzy shook his head. “It's not a game; if the Digital World sends you a Digivice then there's a reason and you should take it seriously.”

Kari sighed. “ I'm not waiting any longer!” Kari aimed her Digivice at the screen and it shone with a brilliant blast of light that sucked her in.

“I'm with you!” TK aimed his Digivice as well and got sucked in too.

Davis had his mouth open in absolute shock.

“It's your turn, unless you're scared.” said Izzy.

Davis shrugged it off and aimed his Digivice too.He got sucked into the computer as well and the flash of light can be seen in the hallway. Izzy prepared to go with them until Yolei and Cody rushed in after seeing the light.

“Whoa! What's going on in here?!” exclaimed Yolei.

Izzy almost dropped his Digivice in shock and hid it behind his back with a funny and innocent expression.

“Nothing! Heh, heh!” Izzy laughed nervously.

Yolei and Cody walked up to him in confusion.

Yolei put her hands on her hips. “Izzy, what was that light!?” she asked that she knew Izzy was lying.

Izzy scratched the back of head nervously. “Uh…the computer must need a new screen saver.” He continued nervously laughing, hoping to fool them.

Meanwhile at the Digital World

Kari, TK, and Davis flew through the streams of data in the Digital Gate. Once they arrived and Davis was in awe.

“Whoa, my first time being downloaded, pretty cool. So, this is the Digital World, huh?” Davis said, he took a look around his new surroundings before exclaiming in surprise at the new clothes he was wearing. Davis wears a dark blue bomber jacket with a red and yellow flame pattern at the bottom and over a light green shirt. He also wears dark olive green shorts, dark blue socks, and orange and white boots.

“Whoa! This place comes with a new wardrobe!” Davis liked his style.

Unbeknownst to them, the Digimon Emperor had spotted them and was watching over them.

He had spiky, blue hair in varying shades of blue and light blue, he wore yellow sunglasses with purple lenses, a blue, gray and white jumpsuit, black shoes, cuffs on his wrists and ankles, a dark gray belt with a yellow buckle on it, and also a blue cape with a yellow lining that looked very much like insect wings, with golden-yellow shoulder pads.

Digimon Emperor grinned on screen. “Looks like we have some visitors in my garden and they weren't even on the guest list.”

Kari looked at her Digivice and it was showing 1 Digivice signal that was orange.

“He’s over this way.” said Kari.

“This place doesn't seem so scary; the way Tai put it there are monsters everywhere.” said Davis, he stopped as he spotted a vending machine. “Hey guys, check it out, there's a vending machine. I am a little thirsty.”

[darkforestimagines]

Luce dei miei occhi part 3

Heidi x reader

Part One

Part Two

Ever since the day Heidi had brought you into her rooms, you were certain she was avoiding you. Well, as much as she could. She still had to bring the humans down your hall for feeding times, but that was only once a week. She never looked over at you as she led them down the hall. You took the chance once or twice to savour the smoothness of her voice, they way it made you want to curl up in a patch of sun and fall asleep in cold arms...

You shook your head like you wanted to shake out your thoughts. You had business to attend to.

You were getting pretty good at your job. You knew most of the processes for running the castle, how to pay the bills, the best time to bring letters to the masters. You were in the middle of an e-mail order for new stones for the garden when footstep interrupted you. You stood up before you even looked up, plastering a smile on your face.

"Welcome home, Demetri, Jane," your breath caught. "Heidi..."

"Good to be home, Y/N," Demetri said with a wink, stopping to cross his arms and lean on the top counter of your desk. Jane walked on, seemingly lost in a foul mood. Behind Demetri, you could see Heidi pause, and the two of you made eye contact for the first time in weeks.

You looked away, feeling your face begin to heat up, and turned to Demetri.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, indeed there is," Demetri said. "Someone, not naming names," Demetri began. He coughed and said something, but it was too fast for you to hear. "stomped on Mistress Sulpicia's lavender. The stems are all bent and the flowers are crushed. Could you be a doll and go pick up a few plants whenever you make your grocery run?"

"Of course," you said, taking out a note pad and jotting down the information. "I can go this afternoon, but I'm not sure I'll be able to find lavender at this time of year. I might have to order some in."

"Well, see what you can do," Demetri said, patting the top of the desk twice before walking away.

You pulled the sticky note off the pad, acutely aware that Heidi hadn't left with Demetri. You took another few seconds to compose yourself before you looked up again.

"Anything I can help you with, H-Heidi?"

Darn, almost. You stuck the note to the corner of your computer screen with a shaky hand.

"It's going to rain this evening." she said. simply. She didn't approach the desk, but her eyes were locked on you in a way humans couldn't.

"Oh, well, um, thank you. I'll have to find an umbrella,," you said. You clasped your hands in front of you. You weren't allowed to sit down until they leaved or they dismissed you.

You bowed your head a little. Surely, Heidi could hear your heart beating in your chest. Was she still upset with you? Was this her revenge for not looking at her all those weeks ago? Did Master Aro tell her you'd been dreaming about that moment? Did he tell her in those dreams you turned to peek?

"Have a good afternoon, Y/N," Heidi said. You heard the click of her heels on the stone, and waited until the sound was distant.

"You too," you said with a sigh, before covering your mouth with your hand. She probably heard that.

Three o’clock rolled around quickly, and you made your way to your room. You rummaged through your belongings, groaning when you realized you never packed your raincoat. You threw on a sweater instead, sliding on sandals and telling yourself you'd just be super quick.

Yeah, right.

Sure, you had time to pick up a couple groceries for yourself. It was only misting when you found your way to the flower shops. By the time you convinced them to get you some lavender plants from the back, it was full-on pouring rain outside. You were relieved to find three medium-sized plants, but that was all you could fit in your cart. You placed your groceries at the bottom, the plastic green pots on top, and peeled your sweater off and tied it around the top of your grandma cart so that the flowers would be safe. Stepping out into the street, your whole body shivered with the onset of rain. In less than two minutes, you were soaked to the bone.

It took you another twenty minutes to walk back to the 'human' entrance of the castle. Alec was kind enough to hold the door open for you as you pulled the cart up the stairs.

"Th-th-th-th-thanks," you said, your teeth chattering until you clenched your jaw.

"No worries," Alec said, taking in the sight of you. He said nothing else as you walked by, tracking water wherever you walked. You would need to mop all of that up once you delivered the flowers.

Your sandals made a wet smacking noise as you walked. You didn't know where Demetri would be, so you decided to go to the general hang-out area. You stopped the cart, pulled the plants into your arms, and slowly made your way deeper and deeper underground, until you reached the underground training room.

Everyone had heard you coming from a mile away, so chatter had died down and about twenty vampires glanced back at you.

"Oh, look at you! You found them!"

Demetri released Afton from a hold and zoomed over to you to take the flowers from you. Behind him, Master Aro and Master Caius shared a glance.

"You look awful, Y/N," Demetri said. "You should go warm up."

"Yeah... you're right." you said quickly. You were shivering, and the tips of your fingers were numb.

Going down all of those stairs is one thing, but climbing back up is a whole other story. The stairs were so old that there was no railing, and they just turned and turned upwards. You felt a little lightheaded, and then two hands moved to your hips to steady you before you fell forwards.

"Th-thanks," you said. You couldn't stop your teeth from chattering.

"I distinctly remember telling you that it was going to rain," the voice from behind said. Oh god.

"S-s-sorry," was your lame response. You heard Heidi sigh, and the cool exhale of her breath on your neck made you shiver.

"Hold still. It'll be easier if I carry you."

You froze in place. Heidi was going to carry you? Your subconscious was going to have a field day with that. Heidi dreams for the rest of the month, for sure!

Heidi scooped you up bridal style, and your exhausted body slumped in her cold, hard arms. You closed your eyes, not only tired but also embarrassed. You felt colder, like she was holding you outside of a moving car, and then it stopped.

"You can open your eyes now."

You peeked. You were in your room.

Heidi set you down, grabbing you again to steady you a second later.

"Thanks Heidi," you said, kicking off your sandals.

"Just answer me this: why did you go out into the rain without so much as a raincoat?"

"Well, I needed food. And those flowers."

"And no raincoat? No umbrella?"

"I thought I was going to be faster than the rain," you said, finding a towel to dry off your legs and arms. Water was still dripping from your hair, shirt and pants, and when you looked over at Heidi, her shirt and arms were soaked where she had held you. And she had her hands on her hips.

"No offense, cara mia, but you're not that fast."

You were so tired that you couldn't help but laugh. Heidi laughed too, but you were laughing so hard you had to sit down. When you could finally breathe again, you sighed happily to yourself and said "Oh, I'm so dumb!"

To your surprise, Heidi crouched down in front of you. One of her hands reached out to cradle your face, and then she drew you a little closer.

You could feel your heart gearing up in your chest, and in your exhausted state you lacked the impulse control. Your hand reached up to Heidi's face and you kissed her on the lips.

Aaaaaand then your brain caught up with you. You pulled away, dizzy and a little star struck.

"Oh Heidi, I'm sorry, I should've asked--"

Heidi leaned forward and kissed you. Her fingers went through your hair, resting on the back of your head, pulling you towards her. Your hands moved to her arms to stop yourself from falling away from her. After a long minute she let you come up for air.

"Let me run you a bath." she purred, practically on your lap. You were sure your pupils were fully dilated-- god, if Heidi wanted to get into your pants, she didn't need to try this hard!

Heidi helped you to your feet and brought you over to your own bathroom. You sat on the counter, still in shock, as she ran the water and adjusted the temperature. She looked through your toiletries until she found a bottle of bubble bath, and carefully poured in a capful.

"There," she said, turning back to you and wiping her wet hands on her pants.

You swallowed as she walked back to you. Were you? Was she? Your circuits were fried and you just looked on at her helplessly, awaiting direction.

Heidi was on cloud nine as she fixed your bath. Aro had promised that once you were securely hers, she could change you. That had been a full month ago, and she hadn't been able to bring herself to be near you. She had been afraid you would reject her, since you hadn't jumped her bones the first time you met her. But Demetri had dragged her by your desk today, and she would need to thank him. The chance to hold you was almost too much to bear, and then to hear you laugh, and to kiss you! Oh!Heidi already decided she was going to take one of your sweaters on the way out, so she could have your scent in her room.

She turned back to you with a smile, her dead heart nearly bursting with satisfaction. You. on the other hand, looked like a limp noodle stuck on a wall.

Heidi moved over to help you out of your clothes, and then stopped in front of you. You were frozen stiff, face burning up. Embarrassment. Nervousness. Obviously you weren't used to any of this. Heidi was only a little disappointed. The inner part of her, the animalistic part, burned with pride that you were hers and hers only.

"I'll leave you to have your bath," Heidi said, kissing your forehead. "Make sure you wear something warm to bed, and get lots of sleep, hm?"

You nodded, still a little overwhelmed but relieved that you weren't going to undress in front of Heidi after all the events of the day.

"I will see you tomorrow, cara mia," Heidi murmured, her hand trailing down your arm to your hand. She couldn't resist, leaning in for a last, quick kiss.

"Tomorrow," you said.

Heidi swept out of the room, shutting the door behind her. You held your breath for another minute, and then sighed and pulled the wet clothes off yourself before sinking into the warm water.

Sweater in hand, Heidi practically floated back to her room. She pressed the sweater to her face and breathed in, venom pooling in her mouth. She couldn't rush you-- waiting made it all the sweeter. She carefully re-folded the sweater and sat it among the pillows, hoping your scent would leech onto them as well.

She was supposed to meet Renata down in the underground training room for a sparring re-match, but when she got there, Renata was busy fighting a quick-footed Jane.

"Someone looks happy," Demetri said. Aro and Marcus lowered the book they were sharing, and Aro beckoned Heidi over.

"So? Has Caius won the bet? A month and a half?" Aro asked. Demetri waltzed over, a grin across his face.

Heidi rolled her eyes. "No one has won yet."

She heard multiple groans, her covenmates readjusting their bets.

"Why are you smiling so much?" Demetri asked as Aro took Heidi's hand. Aro laughed and released her hand after a moment.

"Hey, c'mon, you owe me," Demetri said. Heidi shook her head and smiled like the Mona Lisa. It was no one else’s business that Y/N kisses like a virgin.

[sophielovesbarnes]

Let Us Live Like Flowers, Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Angst, violence, swearing.

Word count: 3.7k

Author note: Here we are, new chapter fresh out of the oven, I was mind blown with how much love the prologue recieved, and I really hope you like this chapter as well.

Tittle inspired by Ellen Everett.

Gifs are not mine.

Masterlist

Prologue

June, 2019; Brooklyn, NY.

He misses everything about her.

Her lips, her laugh; the way the morning sun illuminated her eyes; the feeling of her warm skin against his, sleeping with her arms wrapped around him, chasing every bad dream away; the childlike smile that always embellished her face; the smell of her hair had in the morning, like honey and lavender; how she swung her hips and sang to herself while she was making breakfast, the feeling of her head against his shoulder while they danced in their living room, the way she looked at him, like he was her favourite person in the world, like he was perfect, as if his hands weren’t covered in blood.

It’s been almost four years, and the sound or her laugh still echoes in his head, her phantom haunts every corner of the house, the halls, the kitchen, the paintings she collected since she was sixteen, her shelf in the bathroom, her side of the bed, the half of the closet where all of her clothes and her hospital scrubs are hung, clean and waiting for her; his friends keep telling him that he should move, that a new house would help him, that he deserves a fresh start and that’s what she would’ve wanted.

He can’t leave, he can’t abandon the home they built, the home where they learnt how to breath again, the place that was supposed to be their safe haven; but mostly a part of him still expects her to come back, some nights he still waits up for her, eyes fixed on the door, and in his mind he sees her; pushing it open, tossing her keys in her handmaid clay bowl, throwing her shoes and her bag next to the entrance mat, with her hair pulled up on a messy bun, dragging her feet on the floor, forcing herself to move, and as soon as their eyes met hers would light up like Christmas lights, she would run to him and they would get lost in each other’s lips, “ I love you ” whispered between kiss and kiss.

But the door never opens.

Time doesn’t forgive, and the world doesn’t stop spinning, so he keeps moving, he goes to work, he hangs out with his friends, he goes to run and he comes back home, following the same routine every week.

Sam has taken the habit of crashing on his couch every Monday; he enters his house like he owns the place, they order food and eat in front of the tv watching any game that it’s on, drinking beer and celebrating or protesting when necessary.

Steve and Peggy visit him on Tuesdays and Thursdays; they bring over their kids and they make dinner, while he plays with Sarah and listens to James telling him about his day at school.

On Fridays the whole crew hangs out at Clint’s place, taking turns to flip burgers at the grill while the kids run at the open field, and the others chat and set the table, sometimes after dinner they improvise a baseball game and sometimes they sit in circle, sharing anecdotes or playing board games, the evenings are always filled with laughs and music.

He pretends that he doesn’t notice the concerned look in his friends’ eyes when they think he’s not looking, or the sympathetic smile they give him when anything related to her comes up.

He likes Saturdays the most; Nat picks him up at his house, they take their motorbikes and ride them across the city until they find themselves lost in the forest; once they find a nice spot, they sit on the ground, they watch the stars, they drink and they eat, but they rarely speak, that’s what he likes about being with her, that she doesn’t force things, she allows him to mourn, he doesn’t have to fake with her, she doesn’t look at him with pity.

She is the only one who actually understands his pain, so they grieve in silence.

He lost his soulmate, and she lost her sister.

***

He’s early as usual so the precinct is almost empty, there are a few officers walking around, three guys locked in the cell, and for the look on their bruise covered faces he assumes they probably got arrested after a bar brawl. Maria and Luke are already at their own desks, typing away on their computers, putting all their paperwork in order before the morning meeting.

At the kitchenette Bucky serves himself a cup of coffee; black, three sugars; and then heads to his desk, he’s up to date with his paperwork so he uses his time to check all the points that have to be touched during the meeting and to make sure that the team’s case reports are well done.

He is distracted by the sound of the elevator opening and sees Steve walking out, briefcase in one hand, decaf coffee at the other, uniform as tidy as always, he walks up to his desk, saying hi to the officers that cross paths with him, when he gets to him he places his cup on Bucky’s desk and the briefcase on the floor.

Steve has that smile, he is planning something, he can smell it.

“Morning Buck.”

“Hey punk.”  Bucky replies,  “How was your weekend?”

“It was fine, we took the kids to the park, James is decided to lose the training wheels and since Sarah is walking now Peggy thought it would be a good idea for her to explore new territories, yours?”

“Pretty, chill, went out with Nat on Saturday, stayed home on Sunday.” Bucky answers still analyzing Steve’s behavior.

“Good, good.”

Steve’s fidgeting with one of the bubbly heads from his desk, shifting his weight from side to side; he’s definitely up to something.

“So…” There it is, he knew it. “Peggy and I went out with some of her friends last night and she introduced me th-”

“Nope.” He cuts him off “I know what you are about to say, the answer is no.”

“Come on Buck, just meet her, she works with Pegs and is really nice.” Steve insists.

“No Steve, this dates you and Peggy send me to always end up being a mess and a waste of time.” Bucky retorts; it’s not the first time they have this conversation and with the closeness of the date he is already on edge, he doesn’t need to add more stress to his life; the look on Steve’s face makes him take a step back; he knows he has good intentions, taking a deep breath he is able to calm down, when he continues speaking, his tone sounds more relaxed. “Look I appreciate what you and Pegs are trying to do, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now”

“They weren’t all that bad, the one with Carol went well.”

Bucky laughs softly and plays with the rim of his mug.

“Yeah, you’re right, Carol and I did get along.” He takes a sip of his sip of his coffee and places it back on his desk. “I still hang out with her and her girlfriend.”

“Right, point taken.” Steve takes a deep breath and looks at him like he is trying to get him to keep speaking.

“I’m fine punk, really.”

Steve is about to add something else but seems to regret it at the last moment, he places the bubbly head back in its place and smiles again, taking his briefcase and his cup of coffee.

“See you in the briefing room?”

“Sure.”  

With this said Steve finally heads to his office, nodding to Maria and Luke as a hello, Bucky returns his attention to his computer but he is unable to focus, he gives up after re-reading the same page five times without being able to actually catch what it says, he drops the file over his desk and takes a sip of coffee.

His eyes end up focusing on your picture.

The one he took after you had just moved in to the first apartment you shared, there’s white paint in your nose and hair, and your head is thrown back in laughter.

He’s able to replay the sweet memory in his mind, the delicacy you had while painting, the accident that lead to a play fight that ended with both of you covered in paint sharing kisses on the floor.

A bittersweet smile it’s drawn on his lips, the anniversary of your disappearance is less than a week away, on Friday it will be four years since the last time he saw you, the last time he kissed you and held you in his arms; he feels the date lurking him, getting closer with every second that passes, and he is not ready for it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen; the two of you had already suffered enough, things were supposed to be different, you were supposed to be with him, to build a family, to walk every step together and that was taken away from him, he was supposed to protect you, he promised he would.

He failed.

Bucky gets so lost on his trail of thoughts with his eyes fixed on nothing that he doesn’t actually realise he’s gone until a voice snaps him out from his trance.

“Sarge?” Luke is staring at him, concern reflected on his eyes. “It’s time.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Luke nods and turns around, walking towards the briefing room, Bucky takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, he after drinking a last sip of coffee, he takes his binder and follows Luke’s steps, walking across the team’s desks, giving back the smile Maria gives him.

When he enters Steve is already standing behind the podium and Cage is on the left middle desk flipping his badge on his fingers; one by one the rest of the team starts to arrive, Sharon and Maria are the first ones to come in, they sit on the frontal row with their vision focused on the front, they are followed by Mack and Lincoln who seem to be having a heated discussion about the match between the Destroyers and Atlantic City, they give a brief hello to everyone, sit on the desk next to Maria ‘s and continue with their debate, Jessica follows them closely, dragging her feet until the last row where she sits reclining on the chair, putting her combat boots over the table.

The room seems to fill rather quickly after that, after every sit is taken Steve clears his throat, silencing all the voices that fill the room.

“Good morning.” He greets getting a unison response from the squad. “We have a few important things we have to go over today, first of all I want to congratulate the whole team for taking Rumlow down, I know it wasn’t easy and you all did a great job.”

There’s a round of cheers and applause; it feels like a huge weight it’s suddenly lifted from the room, there are hand fives and hugs, Lincoln shuffles Daisy’s hair earning a playful punch on the shoulder and they both smile at each other with that shine on the eyes Bucky knows so well.

For a moment he is happy, watching the team that became a family for him, rejoice causes him a warm feeling in the chest.

“Okay, okay.” Steve says trying to silence the voices and earn the squad’s attention again, “Now, the bond forgeries, where are we standing there? Hill?”

“Got a hint from one of our informers, he linked the bonds with Victor Moreau, it’s an alias, the name has popped up in other cases but there is no actual record of him.”

Sitting next to him Darcy is keeping note of everything said.

“What’s our next step?”

“We are tracking him closely, to see if we can get a real name, all the banks have been notified, if he tries to change them he’s ours.” She states, getting a nod of agreement from Steve.

“Good, keep me posted.” He turns page on the report that he has over the podium and  turns his attention to Jessica. “Jones, Cage what’s the status on Klaue?”

“He is smart, dick has teenagers moving the coke in clubs and parties, they blend in.” There’s a small unison laugh when Steve gives a stern look to Jessica while mouthing language.

“We think he’s keeping the drugs on a warehouse under the name of Ahab Melville.” Luke adds.

“Klaue is using a goddamn Moby Dick name, we asked for a search warrant, but Hawley has been stalling it, says we don’t have enough evidence.”

“Then find it, bring in the kids he’s using to deal the drugs, one of them has to be able to link him to the drugs, keep pushing it, we don’t need a man like Klaue on the streets.”

Steve keeps going over the cases, taking note and giving advice when needed, eventually is his turn to speak, Steve lets him take control of the podium and sits next to him.

“The 71st asked for our help, there has been a series of burglaries following the same pattern, the victims receive an alleged call from their phone companies, they get asked for their schedule to program an upgrade on their system, a few days after the unsub breaks into the house and empties it.”

Darcy stands up and starts to deliver a paper sheet with a rough drawing of a man in it to each detective.

“Someone was able to identify him, he’s our principal suspect, keep your eyes open, and make sure to distribute the sketch, let everyone know his face.”

After the briefing everybody leaves the room, the rest of the day goes by uneventfully, Jessica manages to bring in two of the men on Klaue’s network, they get called in for a break in nearby Washington park, after they collect evidence and interrogate all the witnesses he heads back to the precinct and spends the rest of the afternoon doing paperwork and preparing his monthly report.

When he finally gets home he is greeted by the sight of Sam, who is scavenging his fridge and drinking a beer.

“How come you never have anything edible in here?” Bucky sighs with annoyance, leaves his keys on the clay bowl and drops his backpack next to the door. “I mean, seriously, there is beer, an orange, mustard and a litre of milk has been here for like a month, that’s it.”

“Well, maybe you should eat at your own house.” He answers and throws his tie to Sam’s head.

“Nah man, I like your couch better.”

“Birdbrain.” He mutters under his breath, when he feels something vibrating and rubbing against his legs, Bucky looks down and picks up the black and white cat, cradling him in his arms. “He is a birdbrain, isn’t him Bowtie? Yes he is.”

Bucky lays down on the couch, kicking out his shoes, dropping them on the floor, he scratches the back of Bow’s ear who leans in to the touch purring on his hand.

“ Where’s your sister Bowtie? Where’s Strudel?” Like summoned a ginger cat jumps on him, meowing softly and rubbing its head against his chest.

Bucky closes his eyes rests his head on the leather armrest, the cats fall asleep on top of him, lulling him with their breath.

At the kitchen Sam is going through his entire pantry on a probably effortless mission to find something to eat; he is right about the food, Bucky can’t even remember when was the last time he actually went to the supermarket.

He keeps dozing until he hears Sam approaching him, when he opens his eyes he sees his friend smiling and eating straight out from a Cheerios box.

“You are eating my cereal.”

“Yup.”

“Why are you eating my cereal?”  

“Because it’s the only thing you have to eat in here.” Sam jests. “Make space.”

“No.” Bucky replies calmly.

“ Move.” He says, trying to push his legs aside.

“I can’t, the cats are asleep.” Sam raises an eyebrow questioning him. “If I move I’ll wake them up.”

“They will get over it, come on man, the game is about to start.” He looks at him expectantly until he gives in and carefully moves the cats out of his lap, both of them protesting and then leaving, and then removes his legs from the couch and places them on the coffee table, Sam sits next to him and turns on the tv.

After the Rangers score their third career the Chinese they ordered finally arrives, they eat in silence until Sam steals the last egg roll from his plate, Bucky turns around to face his friend, giving him a death glare.

“Stop stealing my food.” Bucky says, hitting Sam with a pillow between each word, who looks at him and takes a bite from the roll, choking with it as soon as he tries to swallow, after Sam manages to catch his breath and looks at him with teary eyes they both burst laughing.

“Stop stealing my food.” You laugh and without breaking eye contact you grab another french fry from his plate and place it on your lips.

“I thought that whole “what’s mine is yours was” a thing.”

“Everything but my french fries misses Barnes.” He answers with a smug smile.

“How convenient.”  You reply and trap his face between your hands, running your fingers through his hair, leaning in to kiss him.

The sudden flashback leaves his lungs out of air, shutting his eyes closed he focuses on his breath, slowly he is able to recover a steady pace and his heart goes back to beating normally, without saying anything he returns his attention to the flat screen in front of them and acts as if nothing happened.

“How are you holding up?” Sam finally asks.

“I’m fine.” He answers after a few seconds, Sam nods and Bucky is secretly thankful with him for not pushing it any more.

Sam leaves a few minutes after the game giving him a pat on the shoulder and letting him know that he is available if he needs anything, the next days go by in a blur, one moment it’s Monday and the next thing he knows is that it’s already Thursday night and he is in his kitchen, drying the dishes that Steve passes hims and piling them on the pantry, Peggy is in the living room luling Sarah to sleep and James is already passed out on his couch; he feels spaced out, every time someone talks to him he feels like he is listening to them from behind a glass, he can’t focus or keep a normal conversation without having to ask the second part to repeat itself at least twice.

“What do you think? ” Steve stares at him like he is waiting for an answer,  which makes him realize he probably missed out a conversation. “Buck?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I was asking you what do you think about Rumlow and the deal he asked for” He repeats looking him with worry.

“I think a scumbag like him would say anything to stay out of prison.” He answers.

After they finish with the dishes he helps Steve to take the kids to the van, when Sarah is tucked in her carsit and James is buckled on the seat next to her Peggy hugs him saying goodbye.

“Call us if you need anything.” She states giving him a stern look, accent as thick as the first day he met her.

“Will do Pegs.” She climbs into the shotgun sit and Steve closes the door after her, turning to face him .

“Hey, are you sure you want to go to work tomorrow? You know there is no problem if you need to take the day.”

“Yeah, I’m sure, see you tomorrow.”

***

He stays awake the entire night, he knows that if he actually wanted to sleep he could just take one of the pills his doctor prescribed him but everytime he closed his eyes his mind would be flooded with memories of you.

So he doesn’t sleep.

At seven o’clock he gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, in it he throws his head back and lets the cold water wash out the tiredness; once he is out he dresses with black pants, white shirt and the tie you gave him for the last birthday he spent with you.

He is halfway through his breakfast when his phone starts to ring.

“Barnes.” He answers.

“Sarge, we have a 10-31c between the Sixth and Sterling.”

“10-4 I’ll be there in fifteen.”

He drinks the remanent milk of his cereal straight from the bowl and leaves it in the sink, once his teeth are brushed and all of his things are in his backpack he takes his keys and heads to the scene.

When he arrives to the scene there are two patrols and the forensics van already parked in front of the building in the entrance there is a young police officer waiting for him.

“Sergeant Barnes?” He nods in answer giving cue to the officer to keep speaking. “Peter Parker sir, nice to meet you.”

Bucky accepts the handshake Peter offers and walks towards the scene.

“You were the one who called it?”

“Yes sir, there was an anonymous call to 911, I was the one closest.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Just one sir, one of the detectives is already interviewing him.”

“Thanks Parker.” Peter smiles at him as he enters the scene, right after crossing under the barricade tape he is intervened by Bobbi, her eyes are teary and filled with worry.

“Sarge…”

“What’s wrong Bobbi?” She opens her mouth but not a single word comes out, he keeps marching towards the scene leaving her behind, when he feels a hand holding firmly his shoulder.

This time is Jessica the one stopping him, looking around he notices that most of the eyes are fixated on him, he removes her arm from his shoulder and wades through the detectives and the coroners finally reaching the scene.

As soon as he does the floor seems to sway under his feet.

There’s a corpse on the floor, covered by a white blanket, and on the wall there’s a missing poster, with the word “found” scribbled in blood.

He falls on his knees unable to breath, the world spinning around him.

The picture and the name in the poster are yours.

Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated and my asks are always open.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Requests are open.

10-31c: Homicide

10-4: Affirmative.

[ivadeshin]

Pasadena Iced Coffee (3/?)

(Sequel to Five Soda Maximum. Catch up on previous chapters on Ao3.)

"Yes," Caleb says immediately, taking Molly's hands and leading him backwards to the bedroom door. Bumping it open with his hip, he tugs Molly into a small room with a twin bed - they've made do with worse - and Caleb laughs giddily when Molly uses his tail to blindly find the door handle behind him and pull it shut.

Molly checks the sentence structure in his head before he says it: I - have - you - missed. "Ich hab' dich vermisst," he says, checking that the curtain on the window is tugged across before stepping into Caleb's space and embracing him.

Caleb makes a pleased little sound and loops his arms around Molly's waist, exhaling slowly. "Ich auch." Me too.

Molly adores feeling Caleb relax in his arms, but having him this close is making him equally impatient. "Want you," he breathes, right before closing his mouth over Caleb's. It feels soft and perfect, just as he remembered, the little hesitant breath before Caleb licks across Molly's lips and into his mouth. They try to take it slowly, but they're young and it feels like it's been forever. Reconnecting has ignited something in both of them, and Caleb pulls until Molly pushes, tumbling them both onto the bed with Molly on top.

Molly laughs, squirming a moment to get up onto his knees so he can kick his boots off. Caleb doesn't seem to be having as much luck with his sneakers, muttering mist under his breath until Molly crawls down and unties them for him, easing them off by the heel and dropping them dramatically one-at-a-time onto the floor. Caleb watches him, eyes wide and pupils already huge, making Molly's chest tighten until he comes back and starts a new kiss. It goes until they're breathless again, laughing and holding each other's faces.

When Molly reaches down and fumbles for the button of Caleb’s jeans, the flush that blooms across the human’s face is just like he remembers.

**

Caleb is still asleep, so Molly spends some time in the little living area. Frumpkin takes his lap almost immediately but will not look at him, in some gesture of continued indignance.

His phone beeps: Yasha. A photo of a huge, cold-looking field with a two-lane road off to the side. It must be North Dakota.

Me: When are you coming back? We miss you.

Yasha (flower emoji): Zu’s birthday isn’t until Thursday. I pack her up and get her out Friday.

Molly pinches the bridge of his nose. He understands Yasha’s urge to save someone from the awful foster home that she got kicked out of herself, but Gustav’s never met Zuala and having her stay on Moondrop street until they can get an apartment is going to be... almost definitely some tension.

To say nothing of all the questions Molly’s had to field from Beau about the whole thing. Not like he can’t give her answers he doesn’t have.

Me: Is she definitely still on board?

He’s pretty sure the controlling foster mom doesn’t let her have a phone or anything that lets her get to the outside world, but he’s pretty sure he’s heard of some emails sent from school library computers.

Yasha (flower emoji): She definitely wants to get away, she wants my help, I don’t know if she’s still in love with me. That last part’s killing me.

Me: Are you still in love with her?

Silence. Molly frowns at his phone, setting it face-down on the little table and accepting a face-to-cheek smush from Frumpkin.

“I dunno how it’s gonna go,” he mumbles.

How can he distract himself? Snacks. He gathers Frumpkin up and holds him against his chest, quietly tugging each kitchenette cupboard open in turn in search of something appropriately salty and neon-orange. No luck.

Molly double checks he’s got his wallet and that he’s leaving Caleb’s door unlocked so he can get back in, then sneaks out to the common room down the hall. He's at the vending machine trying to decide between Dorito flavors when a huge, looming figure appears just at the edge of his peripheral vision.

"Hey, you must be Mollymauk."

Molly turns, feeling his ears flatten back a little at the enormity of the person standing across from him. At least seven feet tall, grey furrish skin, and a shock of pink hair braided back to show off half a shaved head. He's wearing a loose sleeveless shirt and prayer beads on his wrist. Caleb has mentioned someone like this, and Molly can almost put his finger on him based on the very unique description, but the act of craning his head back this far is putting him on some kind of delay.

Has he ever seen a firbolg outside of movies and the internet? Do all of them have ears like that?

"I'm sorry," the man says, voice deep and calming. He's smiling a little, because of course he knows what a surprise he is to see for the first time. "I'm the RA on this floor. Caduceus Clay. I know your friend Caleb, he's mentioned you before." Caduceus holds out an enormous but slender grey hand, and Molly takes it immediately to shake. He's fuzzy.

"Yeah, I'm Molly." He smiles a little. "I guess we're both kind of easy to spot, huh?"

Caduceus smiles back. It's like the faint warmth of the sun, coming from nearly as high up. "There's a fair number of tieflings here on the coast, but not a lot of them are lavender. Plus, if I'm being honest, Caleb's been flipping between walking on air and intense cleaning sprees the last few days, so I figured you were arriving sometime soon."

Molly can feel his tail curling up. "He's, um. We haven't seen each other since he moved out here."

"I figured." Caduceus glances around a moment, seeing nobody else is in the area. "He works really hard for a freshman in his first semester. It's great that he's got someone coming out to support him."

That sparks a memory in Molly - he straightens a little, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "You're the RA of this floor, so you're -" He swallows. "You're the one that said he could bring Frumpkin? His cat?"

Caduceus tilts his head ambiguously, taking a step back and slotting his hands into his pockets. "You must be referring to the orange cat?" He asks, cutting Molly off: "It's just a stray that seems to get in here a lot. Someone must be keeping a window open somewhere." He winks.

Molly presses his lips together to hold back a grin. "Well, I'm. Glad that stray keeps coming around here, because he's really good for Caleb. Helps him relax when he gets too stressed."

"Listen, I'm pre-med. I'm the last person to get in the way of a successful solution to anxiety." Caduceus reaches a gentle hand out and places it on Molly's shoulder. "As an RA, I'm obligated to let you know that building policy on guests is a 3-day maximum. But I'm awful at keeping track of calendar dates, you know what I mean? As long as I don't get any noise complaints or anything, I'm likely to forget you're even here."

Molly has decided that he absolutely loves this man. "Like a church mouse," he promises. Caduceus nods slowly, making his braid bob a little as he turns and continues down the hallway. Molly watches him go, fascinated by the enormous loping stride, before turning his attention (mostly) back to the vending machine.

Pre-med? What kind of doctor does he want to be? He'd probably be great in the ER, he seems unflappable.

Seventy five cents and one bag of cheesy nacho Doritos later, Molly sneaks back into Caleb's room and sits at the tiny dining room table. Frumpkin lifts his head from the perfect circle he'd developed on the opposite chair, dropping down onto the floor and giving Molly a slow blink.

"Mow," Frumpkin says, though, clearly reminding Molly that he is not entirely forgiven yet.

"Don't wake Caleb up," Molly chides quietly, around a mouthful of chips. When Frumpkin sits back on his hind legs and stares Molly down, Molly shrugs and leans back in his chair, making room for the cat to jump up and settle in his lap.

"I missed you too, for the record."

"Mrrr."

[mizmahlia]

Duct tape and superglue

So.. remember this post? It’s a headcanon courtesy of the Bland Headcanons tumblr. 

In an encrypted file in the deepest darkest depths of his hard drive Tim Drake has a plan for the ultimate worst case scenario, the inevitable death of Alfred Pennyworth.

Tim sat at the table on his patio and stared out at the Gotham skyline. It was a beautiful summer evening- the sky was awash with a swirl of colors, from the soft yellows and oranges close to the horizon, to the pale blue and lavender hues that were higher in the sky. He almost wished he had his camera nearby so he could take a few photos to share with Alfred. Alfred was the first (and almost always the only) person he showed his photos to and nothing made him happier than watching Alfred’s reactions as he scrolled through them.

His phone chimed with an alert and he reached for it, flipping it over to see who it was. He thought he’d silenced it earlier, but he must have inadvertently hit the button again. It was yet another text from Dick. He flicked through his notifications and saw he now had fourteen unread messages, nine missed calls and four voicemails. Tim sighed and rubbed his burning eyes, leaving all of the messages untouched and turning off the phone. He was too tired to handle any of that right now. Maybe tired wasn’t the right word. Exhausted? Closer, but no, that wasn’t it, either. Whatever it was he felt it deep in his bones and it threatened to overwhelm him.

Ignoring his phone and the growing ache in his chest, he watched the sun set further in the sky before pulling his laptop from his bag. He logged in and opened an innocuous file directory, navigating toward a file he hadn’t accessed in just over a year. His finger hesitated over the touch pad. The file was still right where he left it, safely encrypted and inaccessible to anyone but him. No one else even knew it existed, so there was no reason for anyone to go looking for it, anyway. He held his breath as he double-clicked the icon, watching as it opened and prompted him for a password.

He suddenly put the laptop on the table, yanking his hands away from it as if it had burned him. While he knew it was always a possibility to have to use the plans in this file, part of him never wanted to think about the fact he’d actually need to one day. That somehow, the situation they were in now wouldn’t happen. But the event no one ever talked about had occurred and they had no choice now but to act.

Tim recalled the precise moment the call came in that morning. Bruce’s name came up on his phone at ten thirty-nine during a meeting with Lucius. He’d stared at his phone, a knot of dread forming in his stomach for some reason, and his hand hovered over the screen. Lucius stopped mid-sentence and leaned forward. When he saw the name on the screen he smiled softly and closed his folder.

“Let’s take a break, Tim. I need to stretch my legs.”

Tim nodded and picked up his phone as Lucius left the conference room. And that was when Bruce delivered the news that would rock their family’s foundations to the core.

Alfred was gone.

During the week, Bruce and Alfred normally had breakfast together. It was one of the only ways they could enjoy a few quiet moments together before their days got hectic. It was an unspoken arrangement; everyone knew they met anywhere between five-thirty and six o’clock each morning and whoever woke first started coffee and put the kettle on. Damian avoided the kitchen until closer to seven a.m. and when Dick, Tim or Jason stayed over they were rarely awake before eight, anyway.

So when Bruce went down to the kitchen at five-forty that morning to find it dark and unoccupied, he thought nothing of it. Since it was a Thursday, Alfred may have chosen to sleep a little longer. It had been a hectic week for everyone and even Bruce had some difficulty hauling himself out of bed this morning. But when he realized he’d finished his second cup of coffee and Alfred was still nowhere to be found, he thought it was odd. 

Stranger still was the fact Alfred’s room was dark and silent when Bruce entered after not getting an answer when he knocked. It was then he saw Alfred lying on his side, facing away from the door. Bruce approached the bed and called his name once, then twice. They all noticed Alfred was a little hard of hearing lately so he wasn’t that surprised when Alfred didn’t answer. Bruce didn’t want to startle him so he approached the bed and leaned down. But when he laid a gentle hand on Alfred’s shoulder to wake him, he was cold to the touch.

While Bruce spoke Tim curled in on himself, spinning his chair to the window and covering his eyes with his hand. He listened to Bruce try to console him, telling him Alfred hadn’t suffered at all and that his death was as peaceful as could be. Tim felt himself go numb bit by bit, eventually sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat. He couldn’t lose his composure here. He only realized he was talking a few minutes later when Lucius appeared in the doorway, a concerned expression on his face.

“Do you need me to call anyone, Bruce?”

“No, Tim. It’s fine. Damian already knows and I’ve spoken to Dick. I’m going to call Jason now; he was out of town until late last night.”

“Okay. I have a meeting to get back to. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Tim, wait…”

Tim hung up and swallowed hard before putting it back in his jacket pocket. He straightened his tie and went back to his meeting notes.

“Tim, I got an e-mail from Bruce. We can continue this discussion another time…”

Tim shook his head, feeling completely hollowed out.

“It’s fine, Lucius. I’d rather finish this now. We’re almost done.”

Lucius eyed him warily and took his place across from Tim.

“If you insist.”

After that call from Bruce, Tim threw himself into meetings, reports and conference calls until Lucius came into his office that afternoon and gently pulled Tim’s chair away from his desk. He told Tim to go home and take some time, as much as he needed, and that he should take until Tuesday at the earliest before he came back.

It didn’t hit him until he walked into his apartment a few hours ago and saw the basket full of clean towels and bed linens Alfred laundered for him back on Tuesday still sitting in his bedroom. And as usual, there was an envelope sitting on top with Alfred’s flowing, elegant cursive, no doubt with a note inside instructing Tim to take care of himself along with a list of places he should visit during a vacation Alfred insisted Tim take.

It was real.

Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth was gone.

He bit the inside of his cheek and opened the file, scanning the document to familiarize himself with it once again. People always joked about how paranoid Bruce was, how he planned for absolutely everything. But, like a lot of people, they tended to forget about and underestimate Tim. He and Bruce were practically cut from the same cloth, after all, so it only made sense that if there were ever a situation one of them hadn’t prepared for, the other would have planned for it.

Tim was aware of Bruce’s file on the computer in the cave and had been for some time: the arrangements for Alfred’s funeral, which Alfred himself had researched and compiled. He found it one night while adding to a case file when he was stuck in the cave, injured during patrol. The level of detail both impressed and devastated him. After that night, Tim was forced to realize this day would come. Alfred had planned for everything, down to the hymns, flowers and where he wanted his ashes spread. (The cave, his rose garden at the Manor and some at home in England.)

But what Bruce didn’t have contingency plans for, what Tim had so painstakingly constructed over the last year, was a plan for the many roles Alfred filled: father-figure to Bruce, grandfather, holiday planner, company-keeper when someone was sick, mediator, sounding board, field medic/doctor, mentor, shoulder to cry on, cheerleader, art critic, homework proofreader and all-around wonderful companion.

Reading the first few lines, he took a shaky breath and pushed the laptop away again. The tightness in his chest he’d tried to ignore all day began to crack and break loose. He felt his jaw quiver and bit down on his bottom lip to steady it, but to no avail. As he watched the sun dip below the horizon, the feeling he couldn’t put a name to earlier became clear. Tim was utterly devastated.

Both Bruce and Dick once told him he was the glue that held their family together and Tim felt silly now for ever believing it. It was clear to him he never had been. Alfred had been the one who held them all together when things fell apart. Alfred was the superglue that pieced them together and made sure they stayed that way. Tim was more like duct tape haphazardly wound around something merely to keep it from breaking any further. Duct tape worked, sure. But it was never a permanent fix. Not by a long shot.

He swiped at a few tears with the back of his hand and continued reading through the file. He’d planned for absolutely everything he could think of from birthdays, holidays and weddings to serious injury, finances, and day-to-day events like Damian’s homework, meal-planning and household matters. The only one that involved someone outside the family was the field medic. He had someone they trusted lined up for that role; all Bruce had to do was call when he was ready. Everything else could (and would) be taken care of by members of the family.

Tim closed the file and shut his laptop, leaning back in his chair to try and enjoy the last of the sunset. He thought about the phone call with Bruce that morning and how he hadn’t even asked how Bruce was doing or if he should go home. His eyes closed and he sighed, rubbing a hand up the side of his face. There was a nasty headache coming but he’d deal with it later. Right now he should be going to the Manor to check on everyone. Someone would have to, since Alfred wasn’t there anymore to do it himself.

As the enormity of that thought hit him, he choked back a sob. Alfred was gone. And Tim couldn’t do that- he couldn’t be Alfred. Nobody could. They were all without the one person who made them feel like a family more often than not. Despite his small stature, Alfred’s shoes were too large for any one of them to fill. 

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and he didn’t bother wiping them away. He felt so guilty for having a plan for this, but at the same time, he knew Alfred would have approved. After all, Tim was just doing his job, right? Looking after their family? It’s what Alfred would have wanted. He always wanted them taking care of each other. 

He sighed and stood up, shoving the laptop in his bag and heading back inside. Something else Alfred would have wanted was all of them together during a time like this. He knew he shouldn’t be sitting here alone but he couldn’t make himself go home. It would be too real, then, seeing everyone else in their grief and pain. And he wasn’t sure he could bear walking into that house knowing Alfred wasn’t there and never would be there again.

As the panic and grief bubbled to the surface, threatening to drag him under, he heard keys in the lock and the front door open. Tim braced himself against the counter, trying to get his breathing under control. Bruce entered the room, relief softening the worry lines around his eyes.

“Tim, there you are. We’ve been looking for you everywhere. You weren’t answering your phone.”

Tim stood there and stared at Bruce, unable to move or speak. His jaw trembled again and he swallowed twice before he was able to say anything.

“Are you okay?”

Bruce walked around the island and approached Tim, gently putting his hand on Tim’s shoulder. His eyes held so much pain, but grief and loss were nothing new to Bruce and he carried it far too easily. It wasn’t fair.

Bruce shrugged and continued to study Tim.

“Not really, but that’s normal. How are you, Tim?”

Tim bit his cheek and barely managed a shrug. He couldn’t look up at Bruce again or he’d crumble. He shook his head and was silent for a minute, then two. He took another deep breath and when he was ready, he glanced up at Bruce.

“He’s really gone, isn’t he?”

Bruce simply nodded and squeezed Tim’s shoulder, pulling Tim toward him. Tim froze for a moment before leaning his cheek against Bruce’s chest. The warmth on his cheek and the scent of Alfred's favorite laundry detergent on Bruce's old Yale shirt proved to be too much. He couldn’t hold it in anymore and his shoulders shook as he cried, his hands tangling themselves in the fabric of Bruce's sweatshirt. Bruce ran a hand through Tim’s hair and leaned a cheek on the crown of Tim’s head, sniffling more than once. He let Tim cry as long as he needed and once the shuddering breaths slowed, Bruce grabbed his keys from the counter and steered Tim toward the door.

“I know it will be hard, but let’s go home. The boys are waiting for us and I know Cass and Stephanie will be there later tonight.” 

Tim allowed himself to be led out of his place and down to the car. As they merged into the evening traffic and headed toward the Manor, Tim felt the panic from earlier subside and grief took over. He knew it would feel empty at home without Alfred, but he couldn’t deny it would be nice to have so many of them back under one roof again. 

He watched the lights of the city come on as the sky darkened, and he smiled slightly at the thought of Alfred bringing them together as a family once again. And didn’t have to be present for it to happen. There’s no way anyone could replace Alfred, but they would be okay. It would take time but they would cope with whatever happened next. The sun would come up tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after.

And if push came to shove, a little duct tape sometimes goes a long way.

Tag List: @solis200213, @an-all-write-life, @nxttime, @rosevered

(If I forgot you, please let me know!)

[thewildheroine]

Fly Away |Twenty- Nine|

Warnings: Child injury/death

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: I just started school this week and it’s already killing me so I’m sorry if I don’t post very consistently or if my writing is bad. I hope you guys enjoy and if you like it please reblog loves!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

|Masterlist|

|Part Twenty-Seven|  |Part Twenty-Eight|  |Part Thirty|

____________

I stand on the sidewalk, droplets of rain running past my cotton shirt and the black and blue flannel that is two sizes too big on me. My hair has turned three times darker than usual. The weight of water filling my locks is enough to make the back of my neck ache. Parents and students make this already loud corner of the world even more chaotic. I feel my brain go into overload as I try to focus on one thing.

Instead, a giant wave of wind blows right into my face. The air, thick with water, blows straight into my ears and the noise around me grows ten times in volume. I sigh and bow my head. Droplets of icy water beat right against my nape, pushing fatigue further on me until I feel like dropping onto the sidewalk.

“Hi,” a beautiful voice says, abruptly drawing my attention away from all the obnoxious noise. I’m taken aback when I turn to face the kindest face I’ve ever seen. Her cinnamon lips drawn back on her find face to show me a smile. Hands the color of honey are holding onto each other. She holds her head high, seemingly unfazed by the rain. And her eyes, little orbs of purple that are gleaming with light. She keeps up her chin and extends her small hand towards me.

“You’re Y/N, right?” she wonders. I narrow my eyes and nod slowly, untrusting of anyone who comes up and talks to me so randomly. “I’m Heather. I’m in Mrs. Binford’s class too.”

My arms curl around my torso, this place that I’ve appeared in somehow both hot and freezing at the same time. This place vacillates between the two extreme temperatures as I wander around, unsure of where I’m going exactly. I actually don’t even know where I am for that matter. All I know is that this entire plain of existence is pure, blaring white. For a moment I try to shield my eyes, but the light attacks from all directions, and I defeatedly drop my hand back onto my side.

I continue watching the girl in front of me, who I infer is Indian based on the familiarity between her and the second-grade teacher next to our class who speaks with her native accent proudly and will occasionally pass out embroidered silk in history so that we can all inspect it. My hand raises and I shake Heather’s hesitantly. My sleeves are pulled past the base of my fingers so she can’t feel the thick scars lying just beneath.

“Are you waiting for your parents?” Heather asks and looks at the crosswalk as well. I study the way the rain rolls down her tan cheek. Little white freckles are sprinkled gently under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose reminding me of stars. For being just as young as me she seems otherworldly, and although my dad has never encouraged me to believe in anything besides magic, I know she’s an ancient just from the look of her. She had to have lived millions of lifetimes before this if she can hold her head that high and has such a sing-song voice.

“I’m walking home, actually,” I inform her matter-of-factly and start crossing the street. I’m glad for the constant noise of parents picking up their children disappearing. But Heather follows me, her brown lace-up boots that aren’t meant for the rain splashing into puddles.

“I have to walk a little too,” Heather says while catching up with me. She has to widen her steps to keep up, each pace of mine is a little more than one of her normal ones. “Not home though.”

I cock an eyebrow, surprised to hear that someone my age walks home alone by themselves too. Having become so used to the worried glances from other parents I figured no one else did it.

“You too?”I question. “Your parents let you walk home alone?” Heather laughs abruptly, revealing her pearly white teeth that are all perfectly set into her mouth, not one straying from where it should be. She hikes her backpack up on her shoulders to keep it from falling off.

“Your parents let you walk alone,” she remarks, the bite one would expect in a comment such as that non-existent. The only thing I can find in her whole soul is pure compassion. A love that feels more like family than anything I’ve ever known. “Anyways,” Heather begins and casts her gaze up to a sleek black crow that caws on a telephone wire above us, “we’re not walking alone anymore.”

My fingers dig into my sides, desperate to provide more warmth. I can feel bruises forming under the intensity of my grip so I force my hands up to my face and breathe into them. As I’m doing so an idea pops into my mind. I focus my thoughts and prepare to conjure my magic, only there is nothing to be conjured. All I find within myself is a void of what used to be there. An immortal black hole that looms within, simply waiting for the best moment to take the rest of me away.

I drop my hands enough to stare right at my scarred palms. The angry mark that stretches across the skin to serve as a reminder of what I used to have. Of what I used to be. All I can do is wonder what I am now.

“Oh.”

I nod, my thoughts racing through my naturally anxious mind. Mine and Heather’s eyes stay connected a moment longer before I look back down at the sidewalk. The water has become much less of a menace and even the rain doesn’t seem so troubling anymore. I start walking with Heather, this time slowing down so we can walk side by side.

“So,” I drone awkwardly, still very much unsure on how these “social cues” and “conversations” work, “if you’re not walking home then where are you going.” Heather points forward, not once stopping so she can point out a giant brick building a little way down the road. I eye the giant sports fields and the tall black gates. A blue and yellow flag whips around in the rain wildly.

“My brother is waiting for me there. Midtown high school,” she tells me, the topic already making her excited. “It’s a school for super smart kids. It’s called a ‘STEM’ school.” I think on that for a second, my eyes still fixated on the building.

Tears sting at my eyes now. I feel the need to drop onto the ground and let the chaotic temperature shock me to death. My feet stop moving and I stand in the middle of this infinite wasteland that is nothing more than an abyss to me. I feel my fists shaking by my sides; something that would’ve let my magic loose minutes earlier.

Or has it been hours? I try to think of where I was last. My head to turns to see where I came from but all I see is the white slate. Maybe it’s been more than just hours. I might’ve been wandering this vast place for days, weeks, months. Maybe I’ve been here for years. Maybe all I am is a distant memory to the people I once cared about. Maybe… they’re all already gone and I’m the last one left

“Do you want to go there?” I ask Heather, genuinely curious and not just acting on the few pleasantries I’ve learned. Heather’s smile grows and she nods ecstatically.

“Yeah!” she exclaims, her voice becoming a melody. “I want to be one of those cool hackers like in the spies movies I watch with my dad.” Heather turns towards me and grabs my shoulders all of the sudden. It’s like the joy coming off of her in waves radiates into me, making a smile of my own appear. “What about you? What do you wanna do? Maybe science? I think you’d be good at chemistry. My brother hates that class, but I think you’d be awesome. I quickly become overwhelmed because of her pure curiosity and excitable attitude. My mouth opens then closes, and then I look back at the school.

“I like making stuff,” I reply, thinking off all the things I’ve conjured with magic. Machines, and animals, and plants. “Is there anything for that?” Heather’s smile widens even more.

“Engineering!” she shouts loud enough for the entire block to hear. “You could totally do that! We can go to Midtown together and you can make the machines and I can put the computer stuff into them. We could be a spy team!” I watch as Heather explains what we will be doing the next ten years of our lives, a strange adoration I’ve never known lighting up everyone neuron in my brain.

I run my hands through my tangled hair, yanking some strands out of my school with a soft snapping noise that I can only ignore. Tears begin to fall from my bottom lashes and onto my hot cheeks. My eyes snap around wildly, hoping that if I look hard enough some sort of exit may appear before me. There is nothing though. Just a void for me to lose my mind in. A process that is nearly complete already.

I sit on the creaky swings with Heather. Her raven hair is blown back by the intense winds, revealing how her lavender eyes have focused on something far in the distance. There is a thick book in my lap. One that my teacher recommended that I didn’t read since it was so advanced. My eyes aren’t on the text though. They’re on my best friend of seven months who has not spoken a single word throughout the entire day. I huge feat for her.

“Y/N?” Heather murmurs her first word of the day. I can barely catch my name before it’s taken away by the wind. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

A crow caws somewhere. My head lifts upwards and I shoot my bloodshot eyes around to find the source. The tears stop falling and I finally have a moment to breathe in and out, accepting the air that has somehow turned to a consistent temperature of about twenty degrees. A smile spreads over my lips as I stare towards an invisible horizon, prepared to see a beacon of hope in a place that I believed sucked hope dry.

I’m immediately taken aback by Heather’s question. My eyes study Heather whose brows have been knitted together as she gazes at the hazy horizon with clouds building over every skyscraper in sight.

“I guess so.” I remember when I first met her. How I automatically knew that she was an old soul by the way she held herself and spoke. To this day, I’m still a firm believer of that fact. “Why are you asking?" Heather bites the inside of her cheek, asking herself whether or not she should answer.

“Last night my brother said that it was all a lie. My religion,” she informs me. I twist the chains of my swing further so I can face her entirely. “He said there is no Kali or Ganesha and that there definitely isn’t reincarnation. He said it’s all a big fat lie to keep me from being bad.” I see the tears rimming her gleaming purple eyes. It takes every ounce of control I have in my small body to keep my panic from revealing itself.

I push myself forward on the swing, taking my time to think of an honest answer for Heather because that is what she deserves. “I think he could be right,” I answer, “but I also think that you could be right. I don’t think we’re meant to know for sure if there is someone special out there watching over us.” I bite my lip and shrug, taking a moment to close my book. “That wasn’t very nice of him to say that though, and I think that’s what made him wrong. No one knows that truth for sure. We just have faith. Some people have faith that there are gods, others have faith that there is one god, and some people have faith that there isn’t. We can only have faith in what we believe is right.” I watch the skyline too now, the beauty of the sun dipping below the buildings unbelievable.

The caw grows louder and I can hear the beating of wings as my friend approaches from wherever she may be now.

“You are allowed to believe whatever you want to believe and no one can take that away from you,” I reassure before taking her hand in mine and looking back at the schoolyard where other kids play.

Then we’re silent again. Heather’s raven black hair is blown backward by the wind. We both swing back and forth simultaneously as to not put any strain on each other’s arm.

“I’d like to be reincarnated as a crow,” she mumbles randomly. “I like crows. They’re pretty and smart.” I smile and look at my best friend.

“You’d be a really good crow,” I say back, confidence lining each letter. I think of what I’d like to be reincarnated as. I’ve never taken too much of an interest in most animals until Heather began pointing them all out to me, calling them by both there scientific name and short names. I think if I wanted to be reincarnated as anything, I’d want to be Heather’s sister.

Heather purses her lips, a habit I had noticed her mother doing when she would occasionally pick her up from school. She turns towards me, the chains holding the swing up creaking quietly. “Do you believe in magic, Y/N?” she asks. Her eyes lock onto me. I look down at my muddy shoes as I swing forward a bit, the only thing reminding me not to go so high I could fly away being the strain of Heather’s hand holding mine. Once my feet rub against the wood chips again, sending them flying to the sides, I look around.

“Icarus!” I shout, my voice cracking with every syllable but I find that I don’t care. I can hear my friend coming to me. Her wings flapping as hard as possible to reach me.

I twist towards Heather again, this time an intensity has settled into my eyes. “You have to promise not to tell anyone, okay Heather?” My friend gives me a confused look. “You need to pinky promise you will never, ever tell another soul about what I’m going to show you. Do you pinky promise on your life you won’t?” Heather glances around, almost looking for confirmation of what I just said.

“Yes?” she whispers back, the response sounding more like a question than a promise. I accept it though and pull my hands away from the metal chains. Hesitantly, I cup them and place them against my lips, beginning a simple conjuring spell. I watch closely as the young me executes the spell completely and places her two closed hands in Heather’s open ones. Slowly, she opens them, revealing a tiny butterfly.

“Icarus!” I try again. My hair whips over my face as I turn quickly, the direction fo where the noise is coming from still hard to decipher.

Heather’s jaw drops as she looks at my creation. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my lips as she raises the butterfly to inspect the small thing. I giggle lightly and raise her hands into the air, releasing the butterfly so that it may fly somewhere where it will be safe from the strong winds.

“So,” Heather drones as she watches the dark blue creature disappear, “you’re like a witch.” I chuckle again.

“I guess,” I confirm. “I like to think I’m a good witch though.” Heather’s grip on my hand tightens and she pulls me closer, nearly yanking me right off the swing.

“You’re like Glinda,” she yelps joyfully. “Glinda the good witch!”

One last screech is released into the void, the noise reverberating all around me. Then the beating of wings finishes and I’m left to wait and see if what I heard was real and not just me going mad.

All of the sudden I feel a pulse of energy behind me. I don’t dare turn around out of fear of what it could be. My father, done tormenting me and finally collecting me from this place so that he can take me to his "utopia". Dormammu, who has broken his promise and instead trapped me here with him so he may torture me with my own deepest fears. My friends. My family, standing around me, all of them dead because there was never any hope of us all surviving in the first place.

“Hey Glinda,” a melodious voice says behind me, shocking me straight from my imagination. I dare not turn around as I track the familiarity of the voice. I think of how every syllable sounds like a ballad, how there is a natural trill in her voice one would believe took years to master. I think of her voice, an eternal hymn that people sing on their holy grounds. My heart skips a beat, then another, and then it starts racing again, the realization dawning over me like the sun rising over the New York skyscrapers.

I walk past the alleyway next to our deteriorated apartments. It takes me only a second to sense something wrong before I turn down the dark street. Then I see them. My father and Heather. She has her hands weakly raised above her head, fearing and preparing for the next blow.

I stand and take a deep breath before finally turning to look her in the eye. Her pale purple irises stare right into mine, unafraid to look at me after so many years of being apart. She has developed a natural wave in her once entirely straight, obsidian hair. It dips just past her shoulders. Her smile is glowing with pure white teeth, the sight of something so sincere so striking in this strange place.

He doesn’t go for her head though. He conjures a blade in his hand instead and thrusts it straight into her abdomen. And then everything's a blur.

My magic thrumming inside as I use it to throw him away from my best friend. My sister. He flies ten yards and then collides with a brick wall. Even though I have stopped him I know I haven’t won because I see Heather gasping for air. Her entire face coated with her own dark blood, her hand reaching towards me, and the beautiful purple I love more than anything in the world, the strange and lovely mutation she was named for is fading from her eyes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

All I can do is cry as I drag her to the hospital, praying that she’ll get the chance to be reincarnated as a crow.

I take one step forward, then another, and then I feel as though I’m floating towards the girl who has, despite the four-month difference, grown slightly taller than me. She waits, patient as ever while I approach, fearing deep in my heart that if I go to quick she may disappear like she did all those years ago. All of the sudden, I’m standing right in front of her. My hand lifts without my permission and brushes against the skin of her shoulder, testing to make sure she isn’t an illusion.

“Heather?” I ask finally. Her smile grows wider somehow as she opens her arms to embrace me.

“I'm here,” she begins, "and you can always call me Icarus if you like that better." And then I’m hugging her tight. Tighter than I’ve ever held anyone. Heather laughs happily and pulls me against her as well, and suddenly all the pain of carrying her quaking body into the hospital emergency room fades. I can no longer feel the way her blood felt coating my hands or the way she whispered my name as the nurse brought her to the emergency room.

And there are so many questions I could ask. How long has she been with me for? Did she plan on falling into the courtyard that day or was that a simple coincidence? How many times did she come back? How many times until she finally came back as the crow? As my Icarus?

I find no reason to ask though. Heather’s here now. My sister, who was the first member of my peculiar family is holding me against her no longer petite body, her love for me rolling from her heart in droves and warming up every aching muscle in my body. As she and I are clinging to each other I think of every crow I ever saw after her death. I think of them all as Heather. Heather watching over me every day like a guardian angel. Heather coming back over and over again as her favorite animal, becoming my own personal flock to protect me no matter what.

____________

A/N: First thing first, Heather is based off a character in the book I’m writing. Secondly, she’s going to be really important to the story line if I decide to do my really stupid thing! YAY❤️❤️❤️

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[privateer-universe-blog]

Project X, Episode 3

Bad Company

Intergalactic Red Cross Official Log

Cross-12: Florence

17:56, Mountain Planet Athnan, 3/27/30141

I got through most of the party by running through repair manuals for Cross-12 on my computer chip, up until when the Queen came to greet us. I shifted uncomfortably in my suit, glancing nervously around at the other partygoers. There were a few different species here, but they were all relatively humanoid. Most of them hailed from the same system. James looked much more relaxed than I felt, having done this sort of work a million times. The queen, in her crimson dress and gold corset, gracefully and graciously spoke with each guest. It was hard to believe that she and her husband created an entire fake world just to prevent a revolt. Anything for power, I guess. I had been worried about the illusions clashing with the information from my chip, but the antidote had done its job well. James and I stood in the corner, waiting anxiously for the queen to greet us. Finally, she reached our group.

The queen addressed James first “You look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?”

James swallowed, glancing at me.

I put my hand on James’ arm “My wife―” god it felt weird saying that, “―gets that a lot. She just has one of those faces.” I cringed internally. Seriously? That’s the best I could come up with?

James smiled awkwardly at me. “I do, don’t I, darling? Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The queen smiled. I noticed that her eyes held little of the warmth in her smile. “The pleasure is all mine. I do hope there will be peace between our planets for years to come.”

And with that, she left in a sweep of gold and red.

James rounded on me. “Nice save. I’m sure that won’t get us caught,” she hissed.

I shrugged, even though I was shaking slightly. “I’m trying. I’m not as good at this as you are. I’m not even sure why they picked me.”

James sighed. “Just, let me do the talking, okay?” She grinned. “You can be my arm candy.”

I breathed out a shaky laugh. That I could do.

After the King and Queen made their rounds, soft music began to float through high-tech speakers on the walls. Couples began introductions and various rulers made small talk. I noticed a man standing on his own, watching the proceedings with the eyes of a hawk. He was looking for someone. James saw him too, and quickly pulled me into a conversation with the leaders of a planet close to the one we were supposedly ruling.

This pair were an older couple dressed in yellow. James spoke with them for a few minutes on the topic of alliances in the Kalaius System and the environmental health of dark spots in our ‘home system’.

I kept my eyes on the man, even while responding to the couple. He caught my eye and I looked away quickly. James suddenly dragged us away again, hurriedly saying goodbyes and excuses while she pulled me in the direction of the private meeting rooms and the lavatories.

“Okay,” she said, once we were situated behind an unsuspicious-looking potted plant. “That man you keep looking at is the Minister of Pharmaceutical Practices, which is basically a fancy way of saying he’s the head of the whole operation, and he’s been notified that there might be IRC involvement tonight,” she rattled off.

I nodded. “So what’s the plan?”

James frowned at me. “You mean to tell me that you don’t have―”

I ran a hand through my hair. “This is your mission and you expected me to have the plan? Great. Did you know he would be here?”

James shook her head. “No. I knew he existed, but I didn’t think he would―”

“Of course he’s here!” I whisper-yelled. “I love you, but you are an idiot sometimes.”

James grabbed my shoulder. “Shut up. He’s looking this way. Act natural.”

“‘Act natural’ she says,” I groaned.

We watched anxiously as the the guy slowly turned back to a conversation with a pair of green-clad nobles.

James glared at me. “The information we’re looking for. An agent by the name of Dmitri should have it.

I nodded slowly, glancing around nervously. “And,” I whispered, “Do we know where he would be? Or what he looks like?”

“Hot.”

“James. Focus. Give me details, I don’t want to be stuck at this godforsaken party longer than I have to be.”

“Fine. Well, I worked with him a couple years back. He’s about yea high,―” she waved her hand at a spot above my left shoulder “―with black hair and blue eyes.”

“Okay. Do you know where he’d be?”

“Uh, he’s one of the staff here.”

I sighed. “Do you ever look at what they give you?”

James chose to ignore this.

I rolled my eyes. Thankfully, one of us has some sense. I checked the files on my computer chip. “He’s one of waiters.”

James rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. I was hoping we’d get to eat.”

While we waited for dinner to be served, James and I mingled with the other guests and made polite small talk. It wouldn’t do to appear unsure of ourselves or out of place, earlier incidents aside. I let James take the reins for a while, choosing to search various databases for information regarding the history of the planet, its rulers, and anything else I could find that might prove useful. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be found. Someone was keeping everything clean. No malpractices, no unjust punishments. I sighed inwardly. I hated field assignments. My suit was beginning to itch and I was starting to sweat. James looked at ease, chatting with some duke or duchess or whatever.

I breathed a sigh of relief when dinner was served. I hadn’t spoken much during the evening, and I was glad to finally have an excuse not to talk. I was seated next to a rather large man in a deep purple vest, while James was next to the smallest woman I had ever seen. On the table in increments were enormous flower arrangements, giant white petals sitting in the center with small violet buds on long green stems drooping over the pristine ivory tablecloth. Waiters in black tuxedos and lavender bow ties marched in carrying silver platters and bottles of champagne. I searched the faces, looking for a man fitting the description James had provided.

My attention was drawn away from the staff by one of the security officers rapping his knuckles on the table. The guests quieted and the officer straightened, clearing his throat.

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but there is something I need to call to your attention,” he said.

James looked at me pointedly, trying to catch my attention. She opened her eyes wide and kept jerking her head minutely at someone out of my field of vision. I ignored her.

He went on. “It has come to my attention that there is enemy infiltration here tonight. I warn the infiltrators to turn themselves in immediately, my queen may show mercy.”

I schooled my face into a more neutral expression. Across the table, I saw the minister I had noticed earlier glaring around. His eyes landed on me and I swallowed, redirecting my attention to the security officer.’

“I also would like to assure our guests that no harm should befall them tonight. Thank you, that will be all,” he finished, returning to his station at the edge of the room.

James elbowed me.

“Ow! What?” I said, irritation coloring my voice.

“He’s here.” She discreetly pointed to a waiter standing behind the people a few seats down. He fit her description, and I had to agree, he was kinda hot.

The guy must have noticed me staring, because he looked over at us and gave a tiny nod. He and the other waiters began to set their trays in the long middle portion of the table. My mouth watered at the array of dishes in front of me. There was food from every planet I had ever visited, and some I hadn’t. I was afraid I’d abused my computer chip trying to search for the names and origins of all of it.

Dmitri made his was over to us filling champagne glasses. When he reached James, he picked up her glass and filled it, spilling some of the bubbly drink onto her napkin.

“Terribly sorry Madam, let me get you a new one,” he said, replacing the wet napkin with a dry, folded one.

James smiled at him, and when he had moved on, carefully placed the napkin in her lap, removing a slip of paper from within the folds of the fabric.

When people started to tuck into their food, James nudged me again. “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” she whispered. Then she stood up and casually walked in the direction of the toilets, her heels clicking on the polished floor. I sighed, picking up my fork and helping myself to a tray of edible flowers cooked in cream. If I had to wait, may as well eat something.

When I reached the bathroom, James opened the door quickly and yanked me inside.

“What’s with all the violence? You have something to tell me?” I complained.

She rolled her eyes. “Dmitri has a sense of humor, apparently.”

I looked at her questioningly.

“He decided to hide a freaking file chip in this.” James pointed to a metal box mounted on the wall.

“A tampon dispenser?”

James looked unamused. “A tampon dispenser.”

I mean, not a lot of species need tampons, so it was a pretty clever idea to put the information somewhere where it would be rather unlikely for anyone to find. James, however, didn’t seem too impressed so I decided not to mention that.

I cleared my throat. “So did you―”

“Yes, I got it.” She held up a tiny piece of metal. “Let’s get out of here so I can plug this into your skull.”

“Why can’t you use one of the ships computers? You know I hate being a computer,” I whined.

“The ship’s computers won’t work with this. They’re too slow and it’ll take much too long to decrypt unless you do it,” she replied.

I sighed. “Fine.”

James opened the bathroom door slowly. She jumped slightly and stepped out quickly, tossing the chip in an underhand motion towards me as she went. I heard her speaking on the other side of the door, and then a deep voice responding. I mentally searched myself for somewhere to hide the chip, and then reached up and combed through my bright red hair. Finding the file port, I shoved the chip in and opened the bathroom door.

James was having what looked like a staring contest with a guard. When I opened the door, his eyes jumped to me, and he blinked.

James flung her arm over my shoulders. “We were just leaving, weren’t we, darling?”

I looked at her. “Uh-huh.”

The guard coughed awkwardly. “You two, you, uh, keep yourselves out of trouble.” He fled.

James laughed, removing her arm from around me. “Let’s go. We still have dessert.”

Dessert, although delicious, was almost unbearable. I was so nervous that someone would stand up, point at us, and shout ‘hey look it’s the spies from the IRC’. James was much more relaxed, easy for her, she didn’t have life-or-death information shoved into her noggin. I could barely eat, my hands were shaking so badly. Eventually I just gave up and rested them in my lap, waiting for it to be over. I became aware of an itching sensation where the chip was plugged in. I was afraid of that. My computer chip may be fast and powerful, but because it’s only the left side of my brain and can’t ever perfectly align with the right side, it overheats really easily. Especially in situations like this, when I’m stressed. When I sleep I turn it off, and that gives it more than enough cooldown time, but anxiety makes it heat up faster.

That presented a new problem. I could either turn the computer off, shutting down half of my brain (this would make me, for all intents and purposes, useless), or I could take my chances trying to fight through the pain. “This is why I don’t do stressful field work,” I muttered to myself. The chip would have to be unplugged if I chose the first option, and that introduced a host of other issues, so I would have to go with the latter. I shifted restlessly in my seat, trying to ignore the burning sensation that was slowly taking over the offending side of my head.

Five minutes later, five horrible minutes of agony, of trying to force myself not to give away how much pain I was in, the gala was over. Guests were leaving slowly, saying their goodbyes. James, who had probably noticed my constipated expression and figured out what was happening, hauled me out of my seat by the arm and dragged me off to the landing dock.

In retrospect, it would have been a lot easier to take the chip out considering the attention we were drawing anyway. I remember vaguely registering the image of the dock, the ship waiting for us, and trying to keep myself from swaying into James. We stopped. Why had we stopped walking?

“...thorough search.”

“I’m sorry, my husband needs to lie down.”

That was James speaking. There was a guard blocking our way. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I was leaning heavily into James, and one of my arms was over her shoulders. I didn’t recall it being put there.

Another voice, this one from behind me, spoke up. “You must be searched before you can leave, Madam.”

James sighed. “Stand up on your own for a few minutes,” she whispered. And then she dropped me.

I stumbled backward, almost falling off the landing dock. James had punched the guard behind us, knocking him off the dock. I think he must have fallen onto another level beneath us, but it probably wasn’t too far because I could hear him shouting for more guards. The other guard charged at James, and she ducked out of the way, pulling her blaster pistol from a holster underneath her dress. She aimed a shot at the guard’s leg, temporarily disabling her. The woman unsheathed her own blaster and aimed a shot at me. Through some miracle, I managed to duck, only to trip on one of the shoes James had discarded when she hit the first guard. It was just as well, he had managed to draw out a few others and they fired round after round of blasts, barely missing the top of my head.

James shot the guard again, this time in the arm and the guard’s blaster clattered to the floor. She hauled me up and out of the line of fire, and my burning head spun. The ship’s crew had started the engines and the ship was humming, ready to take off immediately. The main door opened slowly as James and I made our way to it. The security on the the level below us aimed their guns at the ship, but barely made a dent in the metal (our D18s might not have guns, but they more than make up for that with defense). Reaching the ship, James shoved me through the door and collapsed beside me, exhausted. I felt the ship leave the port, and heard the clank of the door shutting. I reached up and pulled the file chip out of my skull and put in James’ hand. Then I crawled onto a seat, buckled myself in, and shut my brain off.

When I woke up the was floating through Cross-12’s docking bay. James was conked out next to me. When we landed, I gently shook her awake.

“James. James, wake up.”

She blinked slowly, and then reached into her pocket to retrieve the chip, handing it to me. I turned it over in my hands, scrutinizing it for damage. The doors to the ship opened behind me and James stood, stretching her arms above her head.

“Let’s get to the debrief. I’d like to see what sort of intel Dmitri has,” she said, hopping out of the door.

Later, James and I were back in our uniforms and seated at the table in one of the meeting rooms. I jiggled my knee nervously and played with the cuff of my uniform until James pulled my hands apart. I hated debriefings, especially when the mission hadn’t gone according to plan. We weren’t supposed to injure people, and we certainly weren’t supposed to make as much of a mess as we did. The captain of Cross-12 stood in front of the blank screen at one end of the room, addressing the mission team. Our squadron commander stood behind her.

“I can’t say I’m terribly impressed with this,” she professed. “We no longer have the element of surprise. The information on this chip will tell us the location of the places where the drugs are manufactured, but we’ll have to delay our attack. The Anthan may not know what we’re there for, but they’ll be on high alert anyway.”

My heart sank. I knew we’d given ourselves away, but to have it said in front of everyone made it ten times worse. I felt my face heat up and James put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“That being said, we are lucky to have our agents come back to us with themselves and the intel intact,” Captain Gramm continued. “I’m sorry that this has been short, but we have a lot to take care of to prepare for the coming attack. Thank you, and good evening.”

On the way back to our quarters, I couldn’t shake one question from my mind. “How do you think they knew we were there?”

James frowned. “I have no idea. We weren’t exactly smooth in the beginning, though.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. I guess I wish I knew what we did wrong.”

“For all we know it might not have been something we did. Someone there could have recognized one of us and tipped off the guards.”

“Well I know one thing for sure,” I said.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I am for sure not getting any more infiltration assignments ever again.”

James hummed. “It’s not for everyone, but I think you held your own.”

“Maybe. It still could have gone better, though.”

“Go to bed, Florence.”

-T.R.R. Carroll

[drarchibaldpeppermd]

Tagged by: @killjoy-loveit <3

Rules: Answer the Q+A’s and tag 5 of your most recent followers and 3 of your biggest fans

What's the smell of your shampoo?

One is lavender and one is coconut.  I like to mix two different ones together b/c one stops dandruff and one makes my hair soft.

What is your aesthetic?

Collegiate comfort.  Soft sweaters and warm drinks. A dark colored bed littered with research books and papers.  The flush on your cheeks just as you get inside somewhere warm from being out in the cold.  The calm quietness of walking outside at night when it’s snowing. Joyously spontaneous cheek kisses. Happiness.

What's your favorite time of the day and why?

Twilight. That time of day in the summer when all the lightning bugs start coming out and you can hear the crickets and maybe you’ll have a fire later to roast marshmallows.

What do you like most about the beach?

Everything.  When it’s early in the morning and you’re walking just along the edge of the waves and there that not-quite fog rolling across the sand.  Or when you make a half-ass attempt at a sand castle and dig so far down in the sand that you reach water.  The gradual transition of dry-scorching sand to damp sand covered in shells and kelp.  When it’s night time and you stand right at the lapping waves, let your feet sink into the sand, close your eyes and understand the song Brandi by Looking Glass. 

What do you worry about constantly?

Money. How long I’m going to be alone for. If anyone is ever going to hold my face in their hands and kiss me with so much love I’m overwhelmed.  

What is a song you've cried to before?

Oh, every sad song ever. Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. Several Tchaikovsky ballets.  Chopin.

What are some relaxing tips for your followers?

Listen to thunder and rain sounds.  Take out your headphones, turn off the light, close your eyes and just sit and think.  Breathe deep. Write something, but write it out on paper, not on your computer.

What are some things that made you tears up?

Oh geez, I’m always crying about something. I’m an emotional, hormonal mess y’all.  I went to a choral concert a couple of weeks ago where they sang Flanders’ Fields that made me cry.  The sheer kindness of human beings even in a time as terrible as this. How absolutely beautiful women are. 

What is your favorite from each of the five senses?

Sound: I mean it has to be music.  There are just so many things that are so amazing about music. It indescribable really.

Smell: How smell is so closely linked to memory.  I can smell something even for a second and then remember something amazing.

Sight: Impressionist paintings

Taste: Freshly baked homemade bread

Touch: Tracing all the lines on someone else’s hand when you’re holding it.

What is one alternate reality you'de like to be in?

I think I’d like to live in an alternate reality where soulmates are real and you can find them. Just to see when they would be like.

What are some trouble you face on a day-to-day basis?

How to make ends meet.  How I’m going to get a job once I graduate.  If I’m going to be able to work in archives like I want to.

What is one scene in a book that made your really sad?

In Jane Eyre, when it is revealed that Jane had an uncle, her father’s brother, that wanted to adopt her and raise her with love, something she had always wanted, but he was kept from doing so because her cruel and abusive aunt concealed his letter.  It just made me so sad for Jane, because she was treated so horribly as a child and never really had a loving home and she could have had that if it weren’t for her nasty aunt.

Say something to your followers:

Hello. You’re all so beautiful and talented and I’ve seen all the things you guys make and it’s so amazing.  I hope you continue to flourish in life and that good things come to you soon.

Those I am tagging:

@straybebes @shownusbabygirl @teamstilinskibaby @monbeslay @bigsavebraden @silly-lioness @acetospace @guhle

[winterrose527]

Chapter 2 of what I wrote earlier...

“Mommy!,” Kitty shouted as they arrived to the soccer field, tackling her mother who was sitting on a flannel blanket.

“Hi baby!,” Myrcella ‘Ella’ Stark said, smoothing Kitty’s curls as the little girl settled in her lap. “Did you have fun with Auntie Sansa?”

“Yeah! We had hot cocoa and went to the park and I climbed the monkey bars, the whole way!,” Kitty said excitedly, “Jon helped a little but I did it Mommy!”

Jon? Ella mouthed over her daughter’s head at Sansa and she couldn’t help but blush.

Jon Sansa mouthed back, biting back a smile, and Ella being Ella didn’t press the matter, not with so many ears around.

“Oh Kitty, thank the gods, we need you,” her little brother Rickon said as he came over to pull his niece out of her mother’s arms. Kitty went happily, and took the hat her uncle was wearing and pulled it on her own head, “Now what do we tell Theo and Billy?”

“NO PRISONERS!,” Kitty shouted, earning looks from a few of the parents. In their defence, this was a six year old’s soccer game.

Rickon clearly didn’t see anything wrong with it though, because he said, “That’s right, Kitty, NO PRISONERS!”

Billy and Theo were the first to take up the chant, but soon all the other boys on their team took it up, as Rickon jumped up and down in the middle of it all.

Her brother Robb buried his face in his hands, shooting apologies at the referees and other coaches.

Ella took the opportunity and tugged her down, completely unfazed by her 4 year old daughter starting a riot.

“Jon?,” she asked again.

Ella was her oldest friend and Sansa should’ve known that her one-track mind would go right back to this.

“We met him at the coffeeshop,” she said, then by way of explanation, “He has a husky.”

“He does, does he?,” Ella said and smiled when Sansa blushed, “Well you can borrow my daughter any time you need a wingwoman.”

Sansa smiled and bit her lip, thinking of how helpless Jon had been with Kitty.

“I may take you up on that,” Sansa said and Ella turned to her incredulously. There were tears in both their eyes when they met.

Ella put an arm around her and kissed her temple. “This is good, Dove, this is really good,” she whispered.

I think so too, she thought, as she burrowed into her sister-in-law’s embrace.

***

Just text her, Ghost seemed to say when they got home from their errands.

Just text her, he seemed to say again, when Jon had eaten his take-out dinner.

Just fucking text her, he seemed to shout, as they got into bed.

Jon was not known for his words so texting was his absolute nightmare. Emojis always seemed crazy to him, and he often overthought his punctuation.

But when a girl like Sansa Stark gives you her number, it is your moral imperative to text her.

They’d had a great time at the park. Kitty had made it her mission to find Ghost the perfect fetch stick, and while she’d run around, Ghost at her heels, making sure everyone gave the little girl a wide berth, he and Sansa looked on, chatting about this and that.

He’d learned that she was from a big family, three brothers and one sister, that her older brother Robb, Kitty’s father, had married her best friend.

He learned that she worked for a non-profit now, though she’d originally studied to become a fashion designer.

He learned that she could jokingly reference obscure facts from ancient history and thanks to Kitty, that the back of her left knee was obscenely ticklish.

But most of all he’d learned that he was a total fucking goner, though he’d known that the moment she pressed her pert nose to the window of the coffee shop.

He pulled out his phone, looking in wonder at her contact Sansa Stark.

Jon: Hi Sansa, it’s Jon… I hope it’s alright that I’m texting you.

Sansa: Would have been rather strange of me to give you my number if it wouldn’t be…

Idiot.

Jon: Good point. How did the game go?

Sansa: It was a blood bath, literally. Kitty incited a riot and the Winterfell Wolves played the dirtiest game of first grade soccer I’ve ever seen.

Jon: Classic Kitty.

Jon: So, do you think I could take you for a drink this week?

He had to wait a long time for her response, but it was worth it.

Sansa: Yes, I think you could.

He didn’t waste anytime texting her back.

Jon: Thursday, 8 o’clock at Weirwood?

Sansa: I’ll be the one that looks like me.

Jon’s smile lasted the rest of the weekend, and he earned more than one dumbfounded glance during the Monday morning debrief.

***
 “Let me see the black again,” Ella said into the computer on Wednesday night.

“Just a minute,” Sansa said, before disappearing back into her closet and pulling on her black turtleneck.

She had it paired with a black and gold brocade mini skirt, black tights and structured black flats.

She posed in front of the camera of her computer, so that Ella could see the whole outfit.

“Do you guys really not spend enough time together?,” Sansa’s little sister Arya asked as she appeared in Ella and Robb’s kitchen, waving hello to Sansa.

“Don’t be jealous, sissy,” Ella said, smacking a kiss on her cheek, “I’m just helping Sansa here choose an outfit and then I’m all yours.”

“An outfit for what? Donor meeting?,” Arya asked as she started chopping carrots at the kitchen counter.

They’d invited Sansa over for dinner as well tonight, but she knew Robb wanted to speak with Arya alone. He was worried she wasn’t finishing university (at 23 she was already behind a year) and he didn’t like to have those conversations with Sansa around. As close as the girls were now, their teen years had been fraught with normal sibling discord that could still start to simmer when Arya felt she was being attacked.

Robb, a father of three, was also the father for his younger siblings, given that their parents had died when she was seventeen. Both Bran and Rickon lived with him and Ella still, as they were still in high school. Robb never complained though, and in truth, he was the best man she knew.

Ella caught her eye through the screen and it was Sansa who said, “No…I sort of have a date.”

This perked her little sister’s interest. It would have even perked Rickon’s at this point.

“Is that so?,” Arya said, as though it didn’t matter to her. You don’t have to tiptoe around me anymore, Sansa thought, though it touched her all the same. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to show off the goods Sans, don’t you have anything a little bit more booby?”

“Haha Auntie Arya said booby!,” she heard Billy say as Robb entered the kitchen, with a son holding onto either arm and Kitty on his back.

“Billy, sweetling, please take your sister to wash her hands for dinner,” Ella said, nipping that in the bud, “Theo, you go too, please.”

The three children slowly slid off their father and out of the frame, though Sansa heard Kitty saying something about how she was the one that had to make sure Billy washed his hands.

“Hey Dove,” Robb said, his face getting comically close to the computer. He who was one of the brightest political minds of his generation was a total dorky dad when it came to technology.

“Hello Robbert,” Sansa said, suddenly wishing she had taken Ella up on her offer to come to dinner.

“What’s this I hear about a date?,” he asked as he stepped away, going up behind his wife and pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Get a room,” Arya said, making gagging noises.

“This whole house is our room,” Robb said, sounding less like a man nearing thirty and more like a cocky older brother. “Now, Dove, what’s this I hear about a date?”

“I think the connection is cutting out,” Sansa said, pretending to poke her computer screen, “Can you guys hear me? Ella? Robb? KITTY CAN YOU HEAR ME!?!?!?”

“YESSSSSSS,” her little niece said, running back into the room, Grey Wind at her heels.

“Nice try, Sansa,” Arya said with a grin, “Too bad Kitty is more adept with technology than her father.”

“Old Mr. Luwin is more adept with technology than Robb is, so is Grey Wind come to think of it,” Rickon said as he came, into the frame, his dog Shaggy behind.

“He has other talents,” her middle brother Bran said as he came in with his friend Jojen.

“He certainly does,” Ella said, giving Rickon a playfully reproachful look. Rickon, helpless as ever against Ella, threw his hands up in defeat before planting a kiss on his sister-in-law’s cheek and shepherding his nephews to the table.

“So a date?,” Robb asked again, but their family was settling in around the table and Ella was calling him over to carve the turkey she’d made.

As the commotion takes over, Ella comes over to the computer and winks at Sansa, my emotional bodyguard, “You don’t need to be booby to dazzle him, Dove. You look perfect, text me if you need anything, actually, text me regardless.”

She blew her friend a kiss and signed off.

She knew she should be nervous for tomorrow, and she was, but more than that she was excited.

When you’re older, I hope you find someone brave, gentle and strong, her father had once said.

Me too, Daddy, me too.

***

Jon walked into Weirwood, one of the only cocktail bars in the city he could stand (he was more a fan of pubs), at 7:59. He’d intended to change after work, but he’d gotten stuck in a meeting and had to text his friend Sam to let Ghost out just so he could make it on time.

He was wearing a black suit with a white collared shirt, though he’d unbuttoned the top button and lost the tie on his way over. He sat down on one of the bar stools that had a good view of the door and ordered a whiskey neat.

He felt the mood change in the room and he turned towards the door, where Sansa Stark had just glided in, looking gorgeous and untouchable in a black turtleneck and black and gold skirt. She didn’t wear heels, but her legs seemed to go on for miles in those black tights and she drew the gaze of every male in the room.

He stood up and waved at her, catching her answering smile somewhere deep in his ribs.

“Jon,” she said as she neared him, planting a hesitant kiss on his cheek and filling his nose with the sent of lavender.

“Sansa,” he said, and he knew that he sounded the fool. He said her name like he couldn’t believe she was standing in front of him, because he couldn’t.

“Something for the lady?,” the bartender asked as Sansa slit into the seat next to Jon.

“Vodka martini with a twist, please,” Sansa said. Then she turned to Jon and smiled at him shyly, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear.

“Did you uh, have a good day?,” Jon asked and could swear the bartender shook his head in pity as he set the martini down in front of Sansa.

“I did… I had a meeting with our accountant and we are 90% cleared for a new venture, so a couple months a head of schedule… how was yours?,” she asked as she took a sip of her drink.

Jon was distracted by the way she licked her lip to catch an errant drop. He didn’t like vodka, but he would have been more than happy to do that for her.

“It was okay,” he said and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You wouldn’t be able to tell me though if it weren’t, would you?,” she asked him with a grin.

Jon chuckled, too clever for your own good, “No, I suppose I couldn’t… well I could, but I’d have to blame it on the rain or a flat tire or something.”

“So Jon, any flat tires?,” she asked, leaning forward conspiratorially, and placing her chin in her palm as though she were a spy in a film noir.

He took up her game, because he’d take up anything she proposed, and he shook his head and leaned in, whispering in her ear, “And not a cloud in sight.”

She let out a giggle, a tinkling sound that warmed his insides and held up her glass, “Well here’s to blue skies.”

“And to you, Sansa Stark,” he said, clinking it with his own.

**** 

@jeynewesterling @asongforjonsa @dropofrum @qinaliel @alwaysjonsa

[starshineskyandthepowerofrock]

Spa Day and Fro-Yo!!!

Part 19 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

There really is no logical reason why I couldn't have just said no to Princess Starshine's proposal, but something felt wrong about rejecting an all-expenses-paid spa trip. After all, I could use some de-stressing. And perhaps Skylar will be so distracted by the unfamiliar situation that she won't try to talk to me.

The chill of autumn in Glitterswirl Heights does not discourage the sun from shining bright, and so Skylar has donned a snapback hat and a pair of sunglasses that look borrowed straight from the princess's closet. I'm not sure they 100% go with the dragon pleather jacket in terms of seasonal appropriateness but at least she's dressed like a somewhat normal person for once.

Skylar adjusts the hat's brim and turns to Princess Starshine as we approach the spa. "You really think they'll let me in?"

"Doubt it," I say.

The princess flips her hair. "Oh, please. I'm Glitterswirl Spa's favorite customer. There's no way they'd turn you away."

"We'll see," Skylar responds, not nearly as sure.

Glitterswirl Spa is an impressive, three-story facility with the front of the building shaped like a delicate white lotus welcoming us into its petals. The princess and I walk through with ease but Skylar hangs back.

"I'll talk to them," the princess tells her. A unicorn woman smiles at us from behind the pure white front desk, a sparkling mini waterfall behind her adding a quiet splash to the gentle soundtrack. If it weren't for Skylar waiting to be let in, I'd feel totally at peace.

"Your Highness," the woman says, bowing her head of swirling lavender hair. "Welcome back. I'll have you checked in immediately."

"Actually," the princess says. "I'm here to check in a couple friends."

Did she just call me her friend?

"Oh!" the woman gasps, apparently just now noticing me. "Of course. And what's your name?"

"Gossamer Glade," I say.

The princess indicates behind her, where Skylar stands just behind the doorway. "My other friend is waiting to be invited in," she explains.

The woman laughs lightly, charmed by what she likely perceives as shyness and not a physical inability to enter. "Well, of course she's invited!"

"Sky," the princess beckons. "They let you in."

Skylar steps in, still tentative. She removes her glasses and shakes away her hat hair as she joins us at the desk. Her lips are pressed together abnormally tight, no doubt to hide the fangs behind them. Without those showing and without the trademark red eyes she would have if it weren't for her albinism, the visual differences between her and a sleep-deprived elf go unnoticed to an untrained eye. Still, I step to the side in an effort to make it clear I don't consider us close.

The woman blinks, trying to reconcile Skylar's disheveled hair and aging clothes with the immaculate princess to the right of her and the fashionably dressed elf girl to her left. "A-and you are?"

Skylar looks to the princess, who says "Her name is Skylar Acdalur."

"Sky... Sky- how do you spell that?"

"S-K-Y..." the princess begins knowingly, but then her smile leaves. "Um... L?" Skylar nods. "And then... it's an... E, right?"

Skylar shakes her head. "It's spelled with an A," she says before bringing her hand to her mouth, eyes wide.

It's too late. The woman already saw the fangs. Flustered, she says, "I-I'm very sorry, Your Highness, but I'm afraid it's against company policy to serve your friend here."

The princess's ears flatten against her head, brow furrowed in a strange combination of bafflement and indignation. "Excuse me?" she says.

Skylar puts a calming hand on the princess's arm. "Why's that?" she asks the lady, her expression pure steel.

The woman looks down at her computer as if there's something important there. "It's really not my decision to make, ma'am, but I have to ask you to leave."

"What is is about me that your company doesn't like?"

One of the woman's hands slips from her keyboard and under the table.

"Honey, I know you're not reaching for a panic button over this," the princess says.

Skylar's mask cracks for a moment to give the princess a confused look. "Panic button?"

"I'm given one whenever I have to meet people. I know the look when you're about to push it."

"Nice."

The woman stands up. "I really am sorry, Your Highness, but we can't admit a... a..."

"Vampire?" Skylar says.

The princess huffs. "Well, fine! Who needs you? I have spa memberships all over the kingdom! What's losing just one?" She turns on her heels and struts right out, Skylar and me close behind.

🥀🥀🥀

Well, that was officially the worst experience I've had this school year. And I was locked in deadly combat with a werewolf last month.

Staring at my shimmery white horse Blight with the palace just in the distance, I would give my other arm to call it a day right here and now, but explaining to my sisters that the reason I'm back early is because I couldn't get into the spa thanks to the vampire I was hanging out with sounds like a worse fate. They'd only let me go because they thought it would be just me and Princess Starshine, and that I could then share whatever juicy secrets she'd let spill with her guard down. But all I've found out so far is her apparent familiarity with panic buttons. Hardly slander material. At least, for a mind as uncreative as Summer's.

No, the reason we're back at Glitterswirl Stables is because Skylar felt she had to explain to her four-legged demon what happened and that there's no guarantee whether we'll head back earlier or later than the time we'd planned. Looking into the thing's blank eyes I know for certain it does not process a word of what she's saying.

"I know a great dairy-free fro-yo place with outdoor seating," the princess tells me as Skylar pushes her head between the stallion's eyes for the fifth time in their one-sided conversation. Maybe we can hit it up and you two can work out your differences over some low-fat sweetness."

"Does it involve an indoor topping bar?" I ask, eyes still on Skylar.

"It does! It has cookie dough and marshmallow fluff, and gummy be- Sky can't get in, can she?"

"It seems unlikely."

"W-well, we can still make it work," she says. "I'll make it work."

🥀🥀🥀

The princess's definition of making it work turns out to be Skylar waiting outside while she and I go in to get the yogurt. I had been wondering how a yogurt place could be dairy-free. According to the signs, it would seem the stuff is made with soy instead of milk. Interesting.

"I thought cat people loved milk," I tell her, dropping blueberries into my cup.

The princess does her best to juggle making her own cup and trying to deduce what Skylar would want on hers. "Ugh, no, I don't even know why people started saying that. Most of us are lactose intolerant." She dumps rainbow-colored gummy worms on her own and considers taking a second scoop. "Do you think Sky would like these?"

"I don't know," is all I say. I'm making my best effort not to do anything helpful towards the vampire, even if I do feel a little bad watching the princess struggle. She has to set down one cup in order to free her hand to put toppings on the other. The ritual is causing a line to form behind us. If it weren't for the fact that it's Her Royal Highness herself that's holding up the show I guarantee there would be complaints. Wary of the impatient tension, I sigh and say, "I think she'd like the sour ones."

At checkout, I'm hoping we'll be out in a matter of seconds, but the employees and patrons alike have other plans. Now that she's not busy making her yogurt cup anymore they're all emboldened to ask for pictures and autographs.

The last thing I need is ending up in a photo with Princess My-Friend's-A-Vampire so I tell her I'll take the cups out and wait for her. I look back one more time before I leave, wondering how long it'll take for word to make it across the kingdom that she's been hanging out with a monster. How many of the people giggling and declaring they'll never again wash their hand or whatever will wash themselves of her the moment they find out that extra yogurt cup is for a vampire? Would any of them be okay with it?

It doesn't matter, because I'm not.

I'm not.

My hands are getting cold from these yogurt cups, I'd better leave.

🥀🥀🥀

I bring the cups down on the glass outdoor table gently enough not to spill but loud enough to make clear the gesture wasn't done with benevolence. Then I turn my chair to face the street rather than Skylar, sit down, and bring my cup into my lap.

Skylar shifts in the edge of my field of vision. "Which one's mine?"

I take a bite of cold blueberry sweetness rather than answer. This place is good, I'll admit.

"Star's still in there? Signing stuff, I bet."

"Why do you call her that?" I ask.

"What, by her name? Isn't that what you're supposed to call people?"

"She's a princess. You're a commoner. Why do you call her that?"

"Seems less dumb than calling her 'Your Highness' for the next four years. I'm not making friends if I have to act like she's 'above me' the whole time."

"Then maybe you shouldn't make friends with a princess," I say. She's silent. Then she takes one of the cups. I turn and find she's taken the wrong one. "No, wait, that's hers!"

She stares at me, mouth a hard line and eyes indecipherable behind her sunglasses. "I wonder how we could've avoided that," she says flatly, taking the other cup. She inspects its contents like it's a new specimen, removing her glasses for a better look. "What's this?" she asks, lifting a single gummy worm.

"It's a gummy worm."

She chuckles. "You have candy that looks like bugs?"

"Worms aren't bugs, they don't have legs."

"You know what I mean." She pops it in her mouth and chews, thoughtful. "It's sour," she says.

"I thought you'd like it, since you seem to enjoy treats that cause you pain."

A smile quirks on her face. "You catch on quick," she says before eating a spoonful. Her eyes widen and she eats another. And another.

"The Isle of Isolation has s'mores but not frozen yogurt?" I can't help asking.

"I mean, we have yogurt," she says, mouth full. She swallows. "But not places like this."

"I see."

We eat in silence. Miles away from anyone that recognizes me, my curiosity is emboldened. "Why do you eat?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Why do you eat?"

"Sustenance, obviously. But you have blood for that, don't you? Or does blood merely keep you alive? Er- undead? Wha-"

"You're awful interested in vampires for someone that hates vampires," she says, excavating a marshmallow. "What would Daddy say?"

I huff. "You know, you are downright inflammatory. Is that your plan, vampire?"

"Everything's a plan with you. Is it 'cause I -- What did you say I do? -- I fake it, right? I'm faking it... I fake what?"

"Everything," I say, unsure how to follow that up. Love? Compassion? Feelings? They don't quite grasp it, I decide. "Personhood," I decide on. "You're all instinct, I just need to remind myself."

"Oh, I see," she says, voice drier than a desert and eyes squarely on her yogurt. "That's why you've been avoiding me, right? So I don't 'strike'. But then you keep talking to me for, what, the science? Make up your mind, do you hate me or not?"

"Why do you care?"

She takes another bite, suddenly having reservations about speaking while chewing. Even after she swallows she still doesn't answer right away. "Great question." Then she smiles, chuckles a bit. "That's a really great question." She props a foot on the third, unused chair and watches the horses and carriages and people of Glitterswirl Heights pass by, smile still there. After putting her glasses back on, she keeps eating.

I groan. "Why do you delight in being confusing on purpose?"

She doesn't respond.

"I asked you a question, Skylar!"

"I heard." She's still smiling. If people bothered to look, they'd notice her fangs and I'd be done for. So would she. But she's still smiling anyway.

"I'm suddenly reminded why I stopped talking to you."

"Sure, yeah, that's the reason," she says. "So, uh, why are we still talking?"

"Indeed," I say. We both silently people-watch, not that there's much to watch. A parent scolding a child for flicking her sister's unicorn horn. A couple fairies catching sight of Skylar's fangs and scurrying past. A couple groups of Academy students no longer fazed by her presence but concerned with my sitting with her. I try to hide my face when these ones pass.

It soon becomes clear that the public has caught word of Princess Starshine's location, and now a truly excessive amount of people are filing into the yogurt shop. I'm positively holding my yogurt cup up to my face at this point.

Skylar sets down her empty cup. "Looks like Star won't be done for a while."

I don't respond.

She sighs and stands up. "I'm gonna go find a trash can. Maybe have a look around," she says. Then she leaves.

🥀🥀🥀

I sit alone for quite a while. To the point that I note hints of orange mingling in the sky's blue. It's almost curfew. I consider heading back inside to tell Star about this. And perhaps I should go find Skylar, too. Who knows where she is, though. What could she possibly be doing that could...

Oh my goodness. There is a vampire loose in the town and I just let it happen. She's been gone for at least an hour. What is she doing? Something devious, no doubt. I could have been the Land of Light's last line of defense and I just let a monster slip under my defenses so-

I'm being ridiculous.

No I'm not.

Yes I am.

I'm just about ready to tear my hair out from the stress when the alarm sounds. I've been familiarized with the alarm through safety training in school my whole life, but hearing it blare through the streets, into my skull, is an experience enough to make my stomach collapse in on itself.

"Attention," the automated voice echoes through the streets of people scurrying to the nearest buildings and over panicked cries. "The Band of Darkness has been spotted near this area. Please enter the nearest building in a calm and orderly fashion. The Band of Light will be here shortly."

That same message plays over again after each wail of the alarm, but soon for me all sound turns to static. I'm at least able to stand up, but where do I go from here? I distantly recognize someone telling me to get inside-

"GOSSAMER!" the princess screams in my face. "We need to get inside, come on!" She looks side to side, that unflappable sass shattered and replaced with a frazzled mess. "Where's Sky? Where'd she go?"

"I, ah..."

She shakes me. "WHERE DID SHE GO, GOSSAMER?"

"I don't know, let go of me! You're right, we need to get insi-"

"I have to find her!" the princess says, already on the run.

"Y-Your Highness, wait!" I catch up with her and cut her off. "You can't run around like this now! We need to save ourselves-"

"We're NOT joining the Band of Light to save ourselves!" she cries, trying to get around me. "She can't get in buildings, you know that! She's out here somewhere- oh, what if they've- what if she's..." Her breath hitches, her eyes brimming with tears.

Oh no, she crying. "Uh..." I begin. "I'm... sure she's okay..."

She cries harder.

"She's smart, okay? A-and she's survived those guys twice already, right? We've survived them, too. We'll all be okay."

The princess heaves, trying to still her shudders. "O-okay... okay... okay..." She fans her face. She looks me in the eyes. She hugs me.

I stiffen, unsure what one is supposed to do when royalty cries on your shoulder. I suppose if she's breaking all rules of propriety then I can, too. I pat her head. "We'll all be okay, Your Highness."

She sniffles. "Please, just call me Star," she whispers.

I nod a bit. "We'll all be okay, Star."

Star removes herself from me, giggling despite herself. "You know, you're way nicer than your sisters."

I giggle back. "Why, thank you. Now, since Skylar likely couldn't hide in a building I think it's a safe guess to check our horses. She'd probably try fleeing to the palace, I'd imagine."

Star nods and wipes away tears. "You're right, let's hurry."

We run through the deserted streets together, praying to whoever's listening that the Band of Darkness won't find us. I keep my eyes glued ahead and try desperately not to dwell on the feeling that they're watching us from all around. Biding their time. Maybe they have Skylar already...

Ahead, ahead, focus ahead! Skylar will be fine, just like I said. Why do I even care about whether she gets hurt? Because Star cares? Or...

Star stops dead in her tracks, so abruptly I skid to a stop a few steps ahead and turn to look at her. Her ears are twitching, swiveling around.

"What do you hear?" I ask.

"No, no, no..."

"Star, what do you hear?"

But then I see them, way off in the distance behind her. Two girls, in black and pink uniform, atop black horses.

I grab Star's hand and run, breaking past all logical thought telling me we can't outrun horses. Of course, the sound of clopping hooves gets closer and closer until the two monsters have not only caught up to us but cut us off. Now I see their circlets and realize they're not just monsters, they're monster royalty. Which means not only am I face-to-face with members of the Band of Darkness, I'm face-to-face with the Heir to Darkness!

"My my, Faylen," Princess Persephone says. "Isn't this a treat?"

"A lucky break, is what this is" Princess Faylen says. "Both of the brats that saved that stupid traitor right here? We have to tell Boris."

Princess Persephone's blood red eyes take on a glimmer that I don't appreciate. "Oh, why can't we just-"

"You know why we can't do that!"

"But it would be so easy!"

As the two bicker, I silently curse myself for not bringing my Soul Player with me. I'm positive Star is thinking the same thing, even if all her wide eyes convey is pure panic.

"What're you two going on about now?" a man's voice fades in. Star and I turn around to the worst sight we've seen all day:

That werewolf again, holding a limp Skylar in his arms.