#did I draw it mostly because I could NOT passe up the idea of neon paisley robes??

[starry-blue-echoes]

I had another ideaaaaaaarrrgghhhhhh

It's an idea for Rose Gold. The first iteration of Paisley Park's public body is... almost right. There's something subtly off about it, be it behavior or some visual difference or a difference in motion that sends the whole thing into the uncanny valley.

Over time, Paisley Park gets better about this, acts more human, moves more fluidly. But for those first few months, Paisley Park does draw the attention of the Rock Humans living in Morioh who... come to the wrong conclusion. After all, moving stiffly? Not quite acting like a human? Appearing out of nowhere? That all sounds a bit like a Rock Human who just integrated into society. They don't make contact with Paisley Park yet, but they do keep this info in mind. Just in case.

(One of the groups later tries to blackmail Paisley Park. They think it works. It Doesn't.)

Y e s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s

maybe the first time Paisley went out, she did it by herself. The kids were of course watching, but they did it from afar. If they were with her when she appeared out of "nowhere" people would ask questions. Questions a pair of pre-teens weren't in any way prepared to answer

she wears very covering, baggy clothing, but it does little to fully hide the slight jerk of her movements or how her face is a little too blank and neutral, almost like she has to think before expressing. She simply walks around and tries to blend in

(despite all of Yasuho's offers and attempts, Paisley doesn't speak. She'll text, she'll write, she'll even sign, but she never talks and Yasuho doesn't force her to. That's just how Paisley is to her, and she doesn't want to make her friend uncomfortable)

there are a few more excursions after that alongside more tests, during and after which Yasuho takes notes on what can be improved upon. There are rumors about Paisley, Morioh is a small town afterall, but eventually Paisley can mostly pass as a person without too many stares and that makes all three of them happy. Paisley also gets rather excited because it means she can go out into the world and do things with Yasuho and not have to worry about keeping secret. She does find it upsetting how long it takes to build up a socially acceptable bond before the two can interact without people talking and implying things, but she's willing to wait

they also craft a story for her. Her name didn't need changing, and legal documentation were practically child's play for her to forge. Soon, one Miss Paisley Park exists. She's a woman in her early 20s from overseas who moved to Japan for a fresh start. She lives alone a decent ways outside the town limits but visits Morioh as a bus stop is close to her home. She works in technology and coding, usually from home, and has no relatives nearby

For most people it's good enough. Most people barely think twice. Most people accept it without too many questions

But to Rock Humans? Rock Humans who've had to make their own stories to blend in? this is practically a flashing neon sign

the final nail in the coffin is when Miss Paisley doesn't visit for over a month without warning and when asked why, she responds that she'd gone on a business trip. Hibernation, they think. What else could it have been?

(the answer is an accident. The kids and Paisley had made the mistake of testing her Combat Suit in the lab and her Human Suit was an unforutnate casualty. It wasnt bad enough that it needed to be scrapped, but repairs took time)

a couple Rock Humans approach her, mostly out of curiosity. No one's ever seen or heard of her before, so she's obviously young and this is likely her first time in a human settlement. They never talk about anything incriminating or too specific, afterall they are in public and despite attempts, no one's been able to follow her back home. Eventually they start building up this idea of who she is and her goals here

Paisley is naturally completely oblivious and just thinks she's gotten attention, which in her mind isn't too good

for shits and giggles, I honestly think it'd be so funny for all the Rock Humans to think they've gotten Paisley nailed down only to be further off then they expected

and for further chaos, maybe after the aformentioned failed blackmailing, one Rock Human makes the mistake of targeting Yasuho and gets sorta..... haunted for a bit, ie: Miss Paisley disappears for a couple weeks and spends the entire time following this guy around and terrorizing him

[littleragondin]

“Come with me,” Tankhun grabbed his wrist and didn't take his heels trying to dig into the plush carpet as a no.

“Good choice. This one always gets me.” A dramatic finger trailed over his cheek. “I can already feel myself tearing up.”

I read @heretherebedork lovely fic about Chay in the aftermaths of episode 11 and Tankhun taking him under his wing, and I couldn't resist. Give it a shot!

[mellointheory]

inhaling smoke, i just awoke

Red wakes up because he’s cold.

It’s winter in Hypixel City, and even the amount of toxins the city puts into the air doesn’t keep the weather from getting cold. Red used to live near a factory that, despite its other drawbacks, kept the air around it warm. He moved away from the factory after he lost his job at the pharmacy. Of course, at that point there wasn’t much of a factory to move away from.

He fights the urge to stay in bed, even though his blankets are thin. It’s only when a glance at his alarm clock tells him it’s 10:46 AM that he gains the motivation to get up. His hands are numb and he blows on them periodically as he gets dressed. There are stains on his palms and fingertips; skin spotted in dark purple and blue. He was working on something new before he went to bed: a recipe of his own that should give the user enhanced eyesight. He tried it last night and all it did was give everything he looked at an edge of bright orange or cyan. He still has the residual headache from it behind his eyes.

Red and white hoodie. Headphones. Bag full of enhancements--the kind that people will actually buy. A baseball bat painted with candy-cane stripes, just in case. Then it’s time for him to go to work.

He ended up in the dockyards of the city after the pharmacy incident, partially because no one would come looking for him here and partially because it was full of exactly the type of degenerates he could sell to. This was where the unwanted of the city ended up; hybrids and cyborgs who’d gone to the wrong place for their surgeries, stray creatures trying to scrape through living in alleyways. One of them ducks into a gutter as he passes; a kind of modified creature with fur and wings. It’s probably been commissioned by some rich person in the upper quarter of the city, then tossed out as soon as they got bored with their living artwork.

Red turns up the music in his headphones and shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, trying to keep them warm. It’s snowing out here; flakes of grey slush raining down. He could almost mistake it for ash if it didn’t melt when it touched his skin.

A neon sign, its glow still noticeable despite the late morning due to the dark clouds hanging in the sky, catches his attention.

Munchy, it reads in cursive yellow text. Below it are the glass doors of what appears to be a small bar. It’s a little early for one to be open, and there’s far more patrons than he would guess from a place like this. They must serve breakfast or something. He’s not dumb enough to sell in someone else’s establishment without talking to the owner first; but this has more potential customers than anywhere else he’s passed and he’s loathe to let the chance go.

Red pushes one of the doors open with his forearm and walks inside, exhaling as warm air swirls around him. He walks up to the counter and sits down, resting his elbows on it and sliding his headphones down around his neck.

“Can I get you anything?” A blonde man in an apron turns towards him, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to someone sitting a few seats down.

“Um, yes.” Red straightens his back, smacking his palms down on the counter. “Could I talk to the owner?”

The man squints at him through green eyes, vaguely suspiciously, then shrugs. “Sure. He’s through those doors,” a finger points at a pair of double doors at the other end of the bar.

Red spins his bar stool in the direction the blonde man directed and gets up, walking over the strip of linoleum floor between squeaky-clean booths. He pushes the indicated doors open and find what appears to be a small casino. His gaze passes over the poker and pool tables and catches on a figure behind a desk all the way at the other end of the room. He takes a step forward.

“Excuse me,” a voice at his elbow says, and he turns to see a cat.

A catboy.

The man is standing behind a counter to Red’s right, soft fur and pointed ears and huge eyes. He’s patterned like toast, is Red’s first thought. Soft, cream colored fur that shades to tan on his face and almost black on the backs of his ears. His hands that rest on the counter are delicate and covered in short fur as well, except for soft pads on his palms and fingertips. Red wonders if he has claws. His blue eyes are mostly pupil at the moment, dilated in the low lights of the empty casino.

“You need to leave your weapon here.” The cat hybrid says apologetically. He has little fangs that glint against the pink inside of his mouth when he speaks.

Red reaches up and pulls his basketball bat from where it’s strapped to his back, extending his arm full length to hand it to the other man. The cat hybrid leans forward to grab it as close to the handle as possible and Red glimpses his tail curling up behind the counter to help him keep his balance.

Coming here was a very good idea.

The thought stays even when he walks up to the desk at the other end of the casino and sees a demon sitting there.

The demon’s name is Bad and despite his initial disappointment that Red was not in fact a traveling muffin salesman, he gives Red permission to sell his enhancements in that area. Red may have glossed over all of the benefits of the various concoctions he creates, but he receives the go-ahead that he needs.

If anyone bothers you, feel free to let me or Antfrost know! The demon said cheerily as Red was on his way out. The catboy nodded in agreement, eyes staying downcast when he handed Red back his baseball bat.

Red half hopes that someone will mess with him. He waves a goodbye to the blonde man working behind the bar and hooks his headphones up over his ears again as he strides out into the cold of the street.

He sells half of the supply he packed, and only one person tries to rob him. That’s a downright phenomenal day of business, honestly. He starts to head home when he gets hungry in the late afternoon. The sun is low in the sky at this point, and that combined with the heavy cloud cover of winter has it dark enough for the street lights to be on. Its not night, but there’s a grey gloom over everything that’s only faintly dispelled by the blue-white street lamps every once in a while.

Red hums along to the music in his headphones as he walks. It’s finally stopped snowing. There’s about an inch of snow on the ground, trampled to grey slush on the street and sidewalk, and in the gutter stained various colors by whatever toxic muck runs through there. He spies a patch of untouched snow near the base of a building and squats down, pressing his forefinger into it.

The snow stains red, chemicals bleeding off of Red’s skin into the pristine whiteness. A trail of crimson trails after his finger as he drags it through the snow.

He draws a penis.

“Excuse me?” A voice asks hesitantly, and Red looks up. The catboy from earlier today is standing above him, huddled in a dark green coat. Like an angel from above, back in Red’s life already. Antfrost, the demon had said his name was.

“Hi, Antfrost.” Red beams, standing up and shoving his headphones down around his neck so he can hear the man properly.

“Hi, I—didn’t catch your name.” Antfrost glances down at the penis Red drew in the snow.

“I’m Velvet, but most people call me Red.” Red sticks out a hand.

“I can see why.” Antfrost stares at the red stains on his skin, hesitates, then reaches out and clasps Red’s hand. He shakes it once, then pulls his back. His fur is like soft silk and the pads on his palms are warm enough to leave the faint ghost of his touch on Red’s skin.

“Do you sell sedatives?” Antfrost asks abruptly, shoving both his hands into his coat’s pockets. Red notices that his tail is nowhere in sight, which means it’s probably tucked away into his pants to stay warm. The thought is unbearably endearing to him.

“What kind of sedatives do you want?” Red asks, swinging his shoulder bag around in front of him and unzipping it to look through it.

“A mist or something?” Antfrost tries to peer inside the bag, although odds are that he doesn’t know what any of the potions’ colors and appearance actually mean.

“How wide of a range do you need?” Red zips his bag shut again and folds his arms.

“Big.” Antfrost’s pupils tighten to little slits, and he frowns. And now he looks dangerous, a fanged man with narrowed eyes and some goal not yet revealed to Red. It’s fascinating.

“I don’t have anything like that with me,” Red starts, and before Antfrost can open his mouth he continues, “but I can make some for you within an hour. When do you need it?”

“Tonight.” Antfrost says resolutely. “How much will it cost?”

“For you? Free.” Red turns and starts down the street again. Antfrost follows a few feet behind.

“Are you sure?” The cat hybrid asks.

“Of course I am. Your boss did me a favor, so I’ll pay it forward.” Red glances back at him. “I can make that in half an hour, if you don’t mind waiting at my place till it’s done.”

“That’s not a problem.” Ant puts his hood up. His ears make little points in the top of the fabric.

Red’s apartment is only a few minutes away, but it’s long enough for his hands to get numb. His headphones double as earmuffs, so he puts them back on as they walk to keep his ears from getting cold. He’s thankful for when they finally make it up the stairs to the small, three room apartment that he calls home.

Damn, not even the first date and Antfrost has already come home with him.

Red fumbles with his keys and unlocks the door with cold fingers, kicking it open and nodding at Antfrost to go inside. He pries the keys out of the lock and closes the door behind them, exhaling. He doesn’t have heating, but the walls and insulation make it at least a little bit warmer than outside, and as soon as he starts cooking what Antfrost has asked for, it’ll heat up in here.

The front door opens directly to the small tiled kitchen that Red uses almost exclusively for manufacturing. The counters are occupied by synthesis stands and bunsen burners, and the open cupboards are full of jars of multicolored chemicals. Red sets his bag on the ground and rolls up his hoodie sleeves, nudging his chin at Antfrost. “Can you pull the pots out of that and put them in the fridge?”

Antfrost nods, turning around from where he was ogling the liquid-filled glass on Red’s shelves. Red slips past him and reaches up, pulling down four different bottles and putting them on the counter. This is a simple recipe, it shouldn’t take him long. He starts the blue flame of the burner and holds his hands over it, letting his numbed fingers warm up.

“How large of a radius do you need this to cover?” Red swirls a vial of zolazepam hydrochloride, then checks the temperature of the flame and turns it down slightly.

“I don’t know, big?” Antfrost rests his elbows on the counter, staring at the swirls of bubbles in the depths of the liquid. “Like, small stadium sized.”

Red whistles, sloshing tiletamine into one of the vials in the synthesis stand. Some of it splashes on his fingers, adding to the stains on his skin. He doesn’t mind. Antfrost is definitely planning something very, very interesting tonight. Hopefully no one can trace the origins of the sedative back to Red. He adds a few more chemicals to another vial, caps them both, and presses a button to start the process. He puts a few pumps of nitrous oxide into the mixing chamber.

“It’s like a cock-fighting ring,” Antfrost bursts out.

“You mean a strip club?” Red raises an eyebrow.

“Wh--no.” Antfrost blinks. Pauses. Gathers his words again. He’s cute when he’s flustered. “It’s like a pit where they get genetically modded animals to fight and bet on it. They have a bunch of chimeras trapped in there.”

“So you want to get them out, huh?” Red turns a valve and watches as the two vials mix, emerald green and golden liquid swirling together.

Antfrost nods.

“Why tonight?”

“They keep them all locked up except for the fights.” Antfrost explains. His ears flatten back against his head as he speaks. “But they’ll all be out in their cages tonight. So if I can knock the entire place unconscious…”

“You can get them out.” Red finishes. “What are you gonna do with them after? Keep them in your basement?”

“Drive them to the edge of the city and let them out.” Ant’s tail has slipped free from wherever he was hiding it, and Red is so distracted by its back-and-forth swishing that he almost forgets to turn down the flame exactly when the mixture is boiling at 211° Fahrenheit.

Antfrost wants to be a hero.

Red grew up in the bowels of Hypixel City, pinching pennies like his parents taught him to. He only stayed off the streets due to an unusually high tolerance for chemicals that landed him a job at a pharmacy, mixing drugs for addicts trying to get their fix through the guise of medicine. He’s experienced with cynicism, with people busy deciding something wasn’t their problem simply because they didn’t have the strength to care. And here was this hybrid man, planning an optimistic rescue mission just because he knew animals were being hurt and it made him sad.

Kindness. Red wonders when it became something unfamiliar to him.

The liquid he’s mixed evaporates into a faint yellow mist that he splits into three different vials. He caps them and lines them up on the counter. Antfrost reaches for the one still under Red’s hand and, impulsively, he slides it farther away from the hybrid’s grasp.

“I’m coming.” Red declares. Antfrost looks up, pupils dilating and expanding to make his blue eyes suddenly seem three times bigger. Fuck, that’s cute.

“Are you sure?” He asks, screwing up his face.

“Absolutely.” Red nods.

“Can you fight at all?” Antfrost steps back and gives Red a once-over.

“I don’t carry a baseball bat around just because it makes me look sexy.” Red reminds him.

“Okay, sure,” Antfrost says doubtfully.

“When do we leave?”

Antfrost looks around for a clock on the walls, turning in a slow circle and finding none. Red shakes his sleeve back from his wrist and holds his arm out to let the hybrid read the time. It’s 5:43 in the afternoon.

“I have to get back to Bad’s bar and work.” Antfrost yanks his hood back up over his head. “But I’ll come get you around midnight, if you’re still up for it.”

Red leans against the wall to let him pass. “I will be.”

Antfrost casts a glance over his shoulder, eyes glowing faint blue from the inside of his hood. “Are you sure? You really, actually want to help?”

“Don’t have a reason not to.” Red shrugs.

There’s a long silence, then Antfrost finally says a soft thank you and leaves.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Boarding Party.”

Thought this was fun to write. Hope you all enjoy this morning. 

Geaa watched Captain Kell carefully as he guided his ship through the asteroid field She didn’t really consider that it required much guiding since each of the asteroids were spaced about 100 miles apart, but their maneuvering had less to do with multiple objects and more to do with the large ball of rock and ice that he was using for cover.

Captain Kell was a surprisingly talented pilot, and was easily able to maneuver the ship around the rocky crags that made up the mile wide asteroid. He was trying to cloak their radar signature from the Omen, which he said would be constantly scanning for unknown lifeforms.

She kept her hand clasped against the back of his chair, though he mostly ignored her.

He had to time it just right.

She saw the front end of the Omen appear behind the asteroid, a massive ship glowing blue in select areas, with little pinpricks of white light filtering out of its observation decks. Captain Kell gunned the engine and slid seamlessly under the belly of the Omen, where their radar signature would be indistinguishable from the ship above.

“Engage grapple.” He ordered, and his voice was calm and firm as his men moved to do as ordered.

He moved slowly towards the lower airlock and largest docking bay. Most of their supplies would be kept there. It would be the most full and the most out of use. Hopefully no one would notice them enter.

Captain Kell tightened his grip on the controls.

“Engage hologram.”

Someone did as ordered and soon there was a hologram of their ship next to the omen.

Captain Kell watched it very closely, adjusting their ship’s location by mere inches towards the airlock. His hands moved as delicately as that of a surgeon as he attempted to maneuver them into position. One wrong move and they would be sent crashing into the omen or flying away into space only to be spotted.

Captain Kell remained steady, holding them in place.

As soon as they were close enough one of his deck officers barked the command. There was a sudden sharp thud as the exterior attachment engaged the airlock door. They wouldn’t be opening the entire airlock, but using the small exterior door that might be used for spacewalks. The attachment they had would force its way onto the deck computer and open the door into their airlock.

If they did it right the airlock alarms wouldn’t go off.

Beatrice was standing next to the officer in charge of that, and she watched them hungrily as their fingers flew across the keys of their station. She had a knife in one hand gently twirling it from side to side, though the deck officer, thankfully, ignored her as she worked.

There was a sharp hiss and a green light blinked on her console.

Attachment made sir.

Captain Kell let go of the controls with a sigh of relief, and drew to his feet. He turned and headed towards the door in a hurry and Beatrice and Geea followed after accompanying him to the docking bay where their boarding team was waiting.

Geea had insisted that the vast majority of the boarding team be her people, though Captain Kell had insisted that a few of his chosen command come as well. She could see the ones named Angelo Mace and Noble waiting for them at the head of the group.

Captain kell made a few silent hand motions before taking position at the front of the group. He pulled up his hood and drew it over his face leaving nothing but the glow of his eye and accepted a gun from one of his companions. Geea simply readied her spear while Beatrice retrieved her knives.

Beatrice loved her knives.

Captain Kell motioned two of his men forward, and they did as ordered, slowly racing through to open the airlock hatch.

There was a hiss, and then the room was  suddenly filled with fresh oxygen. She had to admit that it smelled much better than her ship, or even Captain kell’ship. They must have had some pretty nice life support set up to handle that.

Captain Kell was the first to go in, creeping in through the deck and out into the open cargo bay. When he saw no one coming he ordered the others through until they were all huddled together behind a large stack of crates. The door sealed behind them so a snot to cause any suspicion.

“We take a small team upstairs.” he said quietly, repeating his plan from before.

If they were going to do this, he wanted to do it quietly if they could, and so decided to leave most of her men down here to guard the door. The small group he took with him consisted of Angelo, Geea and Beatrice who had insisted upon coming along no matter what. He didn’t seem pleased about the idea, but he let them, and after slowly checking over their gear they headed into the hull.

Inside Geea felt her heart racing. This had been far easier than she anticipated. If pirates knew how easy it was to break onto the omen, than someone else would already have done it. Of course some of the credit had to go to captain Kell for his superior flying ability, but she bet that you could find software that could fly a ship just as good as he could, and then she wouldn’t even have to worry about it.

They moved out into the hallway, which was mostly deserted aside from the distant thrumming of the engine.

He held up a hand and tilted his head to listen. She waited for him and Beatrice to give the all clear. Humans had better hearing than Drev on average, so she was fine with letting them take the lead. She was just happy to be here finally doing the mission that she had been promised so many days ago.

Enough stalling, she wanted action.

He moved them down the hall following the schematics that had been laid out for them earlier.

He must have memorized the entire thing, because he made his way don the hall without so much as stopping to console a map. On his shoulder, the fuzzy little alien still rested keeping an eye out behind Captain kell in case something went wrong.

She had no doubt that it was watching her as well, but she had no interest in hurting the man, he was her ticket to the good life.

He stopped before a small side door and opened it quietly with a hiss. The door itself opened into a tight maintenance tunnel, which was a small fit even for the humans, but for Geea it was downright unpleasant, and she had to walk tightly hunched over as they made their way through the halls.

Their footsteps were mostly quiet, and as they walked she could hear the sounds of humans talking quietly on the other side of walls. She guessed that they were mostly sleeping quarters, or even the night shift keeping up late.

She couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but it didn’t sound like they were too alarmed.

She was sure no one had noticed them yet.

They made their way up what must have been nine or ten floors. The palace was huge, bigger than she had expected.

She heard plenty of life before the ship, but she didn’t see anyone.

Geea keyed her mic and quietly asked for a status check. To her annoyance Mace answered, but she said it was all clear in the docking bay.

So they kept going.

Geea was growing antsy spear held tight at her side as they moved through the tunnels.

Captain kell held out a hand to stop them as they came to a final door. He pressed his ear up to it and waited for a long moment before crouching and turning to look at them, “This door is going to lead us onto the administrative deck. The Admiral’s quarters are at the end of the hall and up a flight of stairs. He doesn’t usually sleep with the door locked, but if it is, I am going to have to hack it.

Geea nodded, and Beatrice snarled bright white teeth glittering in the red light from above. He reached out and the door hissed open. There was no one in the hallway, and the sound of the engine grew distant as they stepped out of the maintenance corridors. Captain Kell kept towards the front of the group walking as if he belonged there.

Acting suspicious would just arouse worries in anyone who might see them in passing.

They made it to the end of the hall without incident, and followed him up the small flight of stairs. They were so close now, either way she knew that their mission was secured. There was no way Admiral Vir was going to be able to avoid all of them. 

She clenched her spear in one hand, especially not if she had anything to say about it.

The door was so close.

The man raised a hand to stop them and quickly reached up towards one of the overhead lights. He popped the casing and then with a strategic movement of his hand cut off the power. The interior of the hall went dark and Geea had to squint in the dim light to see as he moved forward towards the door. 

Captain Kell reached up to the touch pad next to the door, and it opened with a silent hiss.

There was no change in lighting, likely why the man had disabled the light to begin with. The inside of the room was lit by nothing more than a dull neon glow and whatever ambient light filtered in through the window. She saw an assortment of strange objects inside the room placed at odd intervals, a few things hanging on the walls.

She saw a Drev ceremonial spear in one corner, and then an entire set of human sized Drev armor on a mount beside that.

She knew the Admiral was the de facto sentinel of a Drev clan, but she had always assumed the position was more ceremonial than anything. It seemed as if she was incorrect.

They snuck a little further into the room, and in her excitement Geea was able to draw forward as she approached the bed and the sleeping person that lay within.

He was curled up in a tight ball, his head resting on the pillow.

Beatrice moved forward raising her knives.

Sure Captain Kell wanted them to do this quietly, but the two of them had never really intended on following that.

Beatrice’s knife descended, and then clattered off something with a sharp ping.

She yelped quietly drawing back as, all of a sudden there was a glowing white/silver spear blocking the downstroke over her knife.

The two of them looked up just then, and as if she had materialized out of nowhere,  a Saint stood before them, her armor glowing almost white in the dark. Her blue carapace like blue lightning. She was the most beautiful creature Geea had ever seen despite her size, and she was pissed.

Beatrice drew back in shock and then went to lunge forward hoping to finish the job quickly before something worse happened. But as she did there was a sudden hiss, and a shape dropped out of nowhere, long and thin and thrashing falling from the sky and latching right onto Beatrice’s face. Beatrice flailed and fell back onto the floor her face covered by the strange alien’s open mouth as its snake-like body thrashed from side to side.

Below them, the admiral had awoken and rolled to the side over the edge of the bed and out of sight.

The Saint lunged forward speeds faster than Geea could comprehend, and it was only by luck that she was able to dodge the strike, turn and make a break for it as Beatrice lay on the floor still thrashing and clutching at the thing latched onto her face. Behind her the Saint followed, and Geea sprinted even faster hoping that her longer legs would give her the advantage.

She raced even faster, until a figure at the end of the hallway appeared.

She grew relieved as she saw Angelo waiting for her.

He could help!

But as she approached the hungry glittering in his eyes caused her to slow in doubt, and he grinned maliciously a strange looking spear in one hand.

Not wanting to discover what that was all about, she took a quick turn down the stairs and onto the next deck where she ran down the hall and into a large room.

A shadow fell across the door behind her. The saint stood in the doorway glittering like a jewel in the half darkness, her beautiful golden eyes narrowed in hate.

Geea looked up an stepped back in shock as, across the room, another figure appeared. This one glowed white and floated off the floor like some sort of ethereal spirit. It had pale white skin and black eyes and when it moved its hands words were spoken to the room, “Somebody's in trouble.” It chanted at her. She turned in one last direction, hoping beyond hope that she would be able to escape, but there in the doorway she found Captain kell standing motionless and un-harried.

The small Celzex still sat on his shoulder.

“Kell, Help me.” She hissed 

But the man simply smiled and shook his head. No one moved to stop him.

He pulled back his hood, and then slowly, very slowly he reached up to his face, hooking his fingers under the mechanical component on the right side of his face and pulled. There was a sickening sort of tearing noise and Geea tried to look away in disgust, but watched as the mechanical component pulled away from the skin, and he dropped it to the floor leading his face bare.

With his other hand he reached up to his other eye.

She pulled back in disgust as he pulled something from the surface of his Iris and held it out for her to see.

“Contact lenses, they can change your eye color pretty easily.” her mouth was open in shock, as the man reached up his other hand, to unclip the metallic gauntlet he wore and allow it to drop to the ground a well, “I had been working for months to develop the character of Captain kell. Using secret communications between the UNSC and certain GA and UNSC transport ships,  I was able to give the impression of a pirate who could infiltrate any ship, and vanish without a trace.” He dropped his jacket onto the floor, “I showed up in a few locations, sold a few things on the black market, and had a few of my underground friends spread some rumors about the new player on the field.

He crouched down and unlaced one of his boots, kickin it off so she could see the shiny blue prosthetic on which he now stood.

“From there it was easy to feed my name to the right people until they got me in contact with you.” Admiral Vir ran a hand through his hair with one hand, “Imagine my surprise when you came and hired me to do a hit on myself.” He smiled, “Ironic, no.”

Behind him the figure from the bedroom stopped behind him, pulling off the eyepatch and handing it  to the Admiral.

She could see now that there was a resemblance between the two men, though side by side it was an imperfect comparison.

Admiral Vir slipped on his eye patch, “My brother Thomas did a wonderful job at impersonating me while I was away. We have our mother’s looks.”

He stepped just a little closer and smiled a familiar and affable smile, “This feels nice. I always thought it was a little stupid bot villians in movies to monologue when they have the hero trapped, but it definitely does give one a heightened sense of superiority. The knowledge that I am smarter than you and I outmaneuvered you at your own game, and since I have all your men lock downstairs in the brig, I think I am safe enough for the moment. Anyway it was easy enough to convince you that I needed more supplies, and demand to see your employer. In that way you led me right to them.”

He held up a hand, “And I don’t mean your fake employer I mean the real one you were talking to while I watched through the door.”

He was close now, so very close. Geea knew she wasn’t going to escape, but… but mauve.

She lunged forward, her spear aimed for his throat.

But there was a sharp clash of steel on steel and she was thrown back. 

“Oh also, I have a Saint.”

The blue drev stepped in between them just then stalking forward. Geea tried to protect herself but was only barely able to keep the blows from hitting her as she desperately flailed against the attacks.

The Saint didn’t even look winded.

She was pushed backward, into the circle at the center of the room desperately throwing herself to the floor to dodge an overhand swipe.

She moved to the other side as the second swing came in.

The Saint was just playing with her now.

She lunged forward again, but to her shock the Saint caught it in her upper right hand, wrenched the spear from her grip, closing a fist and punching Geea square in the jaw. She hit the ground hard dazed. She had never seen a Drev use tactics like that before.

“Tie her up will you Sunny.”

“With pleasure.” She growled 

Just then another figure entered the room, tall with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, “Sir.”

“Yes Simon.”

“We have the ship locked down and all the crew escorted to safety, sir.

“Godo work.”

There was a struggle in the doorway behind them, and Angelo stepped onto the deck hauling beatrice behind him. She tried kicking him and headbutting him, but he didn’t seem phased.

“Ramirez..” The admiral said nodding. He threw Beatrice to the ground and Admiral vir walked over making a face as he looked at her head.

Her entire head from temple to jaw was a massive red welt, kind of like a hickey but ten times worse.

There was a soft Screeee sound and he looked up to smile, “There you are Jeffery.”

The strange alien creature slithered across the floor and climbed up his arm, “Did you do that?” he asked pointing at Beatrice’s face”

The Snake thing-made a happy sort of noise, and he patted it’s head, “Good boy.”

Admiral Vir smiled at Geea as two massive Drev stepped in to tie her arms and legs, “Imagine, if you had just killed me the moment you had seen me this would all be over.”

Geea was so livid at this point she could hardly speak watching as she was dragged out of the door watching the Saint and the Admiral recede into the distance, catching his voice just as she was almost out of view.

“Now to deal with the real problem.”

[pearl-pilots-in-chains]

Come to My Window (All the Little Lights #2)

Fandom: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Ships: Asurei

Rating: T

Summary: Rei doesn't like summers much. She usually ends up spending most of her time alone. One afternoon, an open window changes things. Meanwhile, Asuka's unpacking is going great . . . just great. She's just about had enough when she's distracted by the sound of a familiar song.

Notes: It's time for Asurei to Asurock! This is the second part of my All the Little Lights Evangelion high school AU. A slight warning, there's some content in this fic that might be offensive/triggering. I tried to avoid getting too graphic or dark, but there are some clear depictions of depression and bullying, as well as allusions to familial issues. I just wanted to make sure I put a bit of a disclaimer. That being said, I think those parts are important to Rei's character, so I didn't want to leave them out.

The first song Asuka recognizes Rei playing in this fic is "Always With Me, Always With You," by Joe Satriani, and the band shirt Asuka is wearing in this fic is based on the art to the album "Karmacode" by Lacuna Coil.

This was originally posted to my AO3 on May 25, 2020. Hope you enjoy!

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Rei slumped down into the chair, letting her head fall back, her gaze tilting upward, until she was scrutinizing the ceiling. The faux-sky formed on it looked down on her, the painted stars flares of cream and flame that sliced out of the navy base. She thought it was a nice view. It had the power to draw her back, pulling away years to reach innocent memories. She could recall when the sky was first cast onto her ceiling. It had been her father’s idea, and it was his hand that brought it to life. She remembered watching him from her bed, sitting on top of the plastic wrap they had laid down, crinkling the glossy tarp between her fingers. It half-seemed to be a fragment of another world, a remnant of a different life. Now, the mural served as the sole reminder that her father’s presence had once filled her room.

She had thought about asking Shinji to help her paint over the false sky. She knew there was a can of paint in the garage that could match the ceiling’s original shade well enough. She could return it all to a blank canvas. Erase the constellations, fill the vacuum with blinding light. And yet, she never asked. She wasn’t sure Shinji would be willing to help if the request was made. There was a picture on top of his bookcase. It wasn’t in the front. Its frame stood behind one that displayed Shinji and Toji after a track meet, celebrating their respective performances. But it was still there, half in hiding, half revealed. She knew the day it had been taken. December 24, 2000. On the eve of their last Christmas as a quartet. Her memories of that day were nebulous, lost to the childhood haze that the painting day had managed to emerge from. The picture spoke enough to make up for the lack of recollections though.

Her mother was holding Rei in her lap. Rei was looking away from the camera, down at the floor. She looked far wiser, far sadder that a child should. She looked as though she knew too much. Yui was looking up towards the camera, a smile plastered on her face that failed to hide its fraudulent nature. It was took curved, too hooked, too forced. The eyes told the truth. Distant, worried, ashamed. Shinji was sitting by Gendo. He was trying to imitate his father, pressing his face into an amalgamation of the mask the adult wore. It was a shoddy disguise though, as his lips looked seconds away from tremble, and there was water in the corner of his eyes. Gendo wore the true mask. His gaze bored directly into the lens’s eye, staring it down, as though he was willing the time to work correctly through sheer willpower and determination alone. Or, perhaps he was merely compensating. The tinted glasses he normally sported were nowhere to be seen, which left his eyes naked, exposed, without a shield to fume behind. It was possible that the tight, angry smile which ripped through his lips and the needling glare in his iris were designed to make up for this. They had the opposite effect, however. Whereas his traditional spectacles contained and concealed some degree of his emotions, his posturing revealed the true extent of them. His spite, his wrath, his pride, all laid bare.

As a general rule, Rei didn’t keep photos in the same way her brother did. He had a greater appreciation for the physical mementos, the tangible preservation of a moment for posterity. Rei treasured the fleeting nature of seconds, minutes, days. The ephemeral essence of life. The truth that nothing was everlasting, nothing endured. Consequently, there were three pictures in her room. One of her standing by the front door, the day before her first day of elementary school. She looked brave in it. It wasn’t just a front, Rei realized. She had felt brave that day. Time had taught her, however, that there was a thin line between bravery and foolishness.

The second picture showed Shinji and Rei, mouths broken in laughter, dancing through the backyard, Shinji lunging out in an attempt to tap her shoulders. They had been playing hide-and-go-tag, as they referred to it, and he had found her secret spot behind the rose garden. Yui had snapped the shot the moment before Shinji discovered that his sister was faster than he had anticipated, and had ended up face down in the grass after his ill-fated leap.

The last picture was the newest of the three, though now passing the age of six years, another family photo. This one was dated August 16, 2005. The smiles were more genuine, even if they looked more worn. Gendo was over four years absent.

Shinji visited his father. He had since second grade. Sometimes once every other weekend, sometimes once a month, depending on how their schedules worked out. Rei never visited. She hadn’t seen Gendo in person in a decade. She was perfectly fine with her only memories of him being mostly vague, indefinite impressions of youth. They were painful enough as they were. She didn’t want to imagine having concrete memories.

Yui had never made either of them visit him. She never would. She understood while Rei chose not. If anything, she understood better than Rei herself. Rei was truthful unsure why Shinji chose to go. Perhaps out of guilt, perhaps out of regret, perhaps out of pity, perhaps some combination of the three. Whatever it was, Shinji chose to see his father, and Rei chose not to ask her brother to help remove the last physical trace of their father from her space.

Even beyond Shinji though, Rei felt a reluctance to erase the ceiling, to restore it to its first form. Her mind shied away from the choice, became anxious, and fell silent. Rei knew far, far too much about anxious silences.

She was the “Silent Ikari,” after all. That was one of the names which had been ascribed to her. One of the kinder ones, really. She was never called them to her face, of course. Not that people said much of anything to her face. She supposed that it might be out of respect for her brother, the Ikari most people liked. But they still spoke, in voices loud enough and near enough for her to make their ‘observations’ out. Maybe they thought she was as deaf as she seemed mute. Maybe they just didn’t care if she heard. After all, they could reason that she had no real ‘excuse’ for being withdrawn, closed-off, that ‘emo girl in the corner.’ She just thought she was ‘too good for them.’ The genius who was smart enough to have skipped a grade, who could probably skip another, but ‘just didn’t feel like it.’ The one who all the teachers thought was practically perfect, even if they worried she was ‘a little on the quiet side.’ The one who had a friendly, and moderately popular brother, but was herself too ‘stuck up’ to even bother talking with anyone. And if they didn’t play up that she was cold and arrogant, they played up that something was wrong with her. That she ‘wasn’t all there,’ or had never figured out ‘how to be a human.’ There were words that stung even more, especially when she was younger, when she learned what they meant, but she preferred not to reiterate them in her mind. She didn’t need to give the speakers that power, that lasting blow. All the same, a memory crept into her head unbidden.

It was one of the first times she had sat away from Shinji and his friends. She had felt like a burden to her brother, and she had been tired of always hanging on to him, even if he had never minded. Even if he had wanted nothing more than to make sure she was okay. He was smart enough to know her reputation, even if people avoided saying things in front of him. He had gotten into a fight, a real fight, with someone who he had called a friend before it, over a passing comment the friend had made about Rei when he thought Shinji wasn’t paying attention. After that, Rei had decided to give her brother space. She didn’t want to be the weight that he felt bound by. She didn’t want to be the shadow that he felt as though he had to protect. He hadn’t been happy about it, but he had understood and agreed when she had talked to him. If there was one undeniable fact about her brother, it was that he always did his best to empathize, even when it was clearly difficult for him.

She had picked out a table along the fringe of the room to sit at. Somewhere out of the way, to avoid unwanted attention. She hadn’t wanted to be alone. She never had. But by then, it had seemed too late to change the perception of the faces she saw. The disregard, the amusement, the disgust. They had seemed immutable. And so, she hadn’t tried. She had done her best to be invisible. Because it was easier than fighting against a tide than felt overwhelming. She was too afraid of drowning to do otherwise.

She had heard the boy’s conversation with his friends before he approached her. Her hearing had always been above average, and when you heard your name spoken in first cautious, and then careless, tones behind your back, you got used to honing in on it. There had been a dare. A bet as to whether or not he could get a date with the ‘broken girl.’ They had all been at the age where suddenly, exploring previous unknown urges and interests seemed of the upmost importance. Well, most of them had been. She hadn’t. She still wasn’t. Not in the same way, anyhow, or to the same degree. At least, she didn’t think so. They spoke of crushes, and flirting, and love, and sex, like objects on fire, that burned the skin when they were handled, but were worth the flame. She thought of them in muted terms, as though she was touching the same once-scorching objects, but after they had passed beneath a waterfall, the flames all-but vanquished, only the occasional ember remaining. They were safer to hold, to handle, but the appeal, the allure in the danger, was gone, their extinguished state irrevocable.

His stance had been casual as he walked over, but there was a cruel, cocksure glint in his eye. His tone betrayed just what he thought of her, and what he thought of himself. She was an object, a means to an end (the money involved in the bet), and that was all. He was the lad who was going to win the bet, and she should feel lucky to be used for that purpose.

“Hey.” His tone had dripped smooth self-importance, self-exaggeration. “I’m Maximilian.” He had used his full name, not the Max he went by, as though he could make her persuade by the sheer power of possessing what he no doubt thought was an ‘exotic’ name.

“Hello.” Her reply had been quiet, not really timid, though it could have been mistaken for such. Any who had been less caught up in himself would have recognized that it instead bespoke that she had no interest in talking to him, was aware of what he was doing, and want no part of it.

“I’m going to sit here.” It hadn’t been a question, hadn’t been a request, had been a statement, had almost been a command. A command to accept the fact that she was in his presence, and should treat him with the respect his conceited conscience told him he deserved.

She hadn’t said anything in response to that at first. He had taken that as the acceptance he desired, and taken the seat across from her. “So, you’re Rei, right?” The tone was aggressive, as though he was going to dismiss whatever she said, because he was certain he knew who she was. She had imagined that if she said, simply to deny him, he would have ignored it and preceded ahead as though she had said ‘yes.’ He had been the type of boy who could go either one of two ways. On one hand, he could cross too hard of a line earlier enough that he still had a chance to learn how to be something better. On the other hand, he could grow up to be a man who refused to acknowledge refusals, because he felt he has the right to what he wants. The worst kind of person, Rei thought. The kind who thought that others very selves were second to their own desires. Rei wasn’t sure which path he had ended up taking, but she was very glad that they had gone to different high schools, although she felt bad for whoever ended up being the target of his interests there.

Instead of saying ’no,’ or merely staying silent, Rei had cut to the chase. “I don’t want to go out with you. Please leave me alone.”

This had thrown him for a loop. That much had been clear. He had expected her to at least hear him out. His opinion of himself was high enough that he hadn’t even considered outright disregard, the very same treatment he had intended to give her. The result of course, had been that he had become angry. Furious, really, she imagined, though his sheer pride kept him from making a scene, considering he cared too much for his image as the ‘cool guy.’ Instead, he had leaned in, breaking into her bubble, to spit the words in her face. “You don’t know what you’re missing, stupid bitch. It’s not like anyone ever going to ask out a freak like you. The most attention you’ll ever get will be from some white coat in a psych ward.”

She hadn’t flinched. She had known that it would be her downfall if she did. That breaking was what he wanted, her visible suffering was what he was craving in that moment. He had realized she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction after a few seconds, and strolled off, still cocky, but surely fuming internally over the fact that he hadn’t managed to get a reaction out of her. Not a twitch in her lips, a blink in her eyes, something to show that she was shattering beneath the calm exterior. Not that she wasn’t. She just knew how to delay the collapse. It had happened later that day, in the safety and solitude of her room, a silent sort of disintegration. No tears, no screams. Just a widening hollow feeling that consumed her from the pit of her stomach, reaching up into her chest cavity, groping at her lungs, sucking the air into, folding her in on herself until she felt small enough to simply stop existing altogether. It wasn’t an uncommon experience in those days. Before she learned how to grow numb to the words, numb to the spite. That came later though. You had to experience enough pain, enough cover crumbling, to learn how to ignore the barbs that brought it on.

She had never told her brother about that particular incident. She hadn’t wanted him to start another fight on her account. She wasn’t sure if he had ever found out. She guessed it was likely he had, although she wasn’t sure what he had done about it (though she thought it was probable he had done something).

The abuse had never been physical, never public, rarely direct. There had been no retaliation for that incident either. She supposed on all accounts that it was because people were afraid of what her brother might do. Or perhaps not her brother, but more accurately, her brother’s friends. She liked them for the most part. The track team members her brother was close to were an anomaly, in that they were some of few decent people she had ever met in the schools she had attended. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. Knowing that she didn’t have to worry about making her brother choose between his sister and his friends. At least not anymore. He had discarded the ones that had tried to sway him away from the familial choice. She supposed then, that he had already made his decision. She felt guilty for that. She felt guilty often, when it came to her brother, and what she perceived as the difficulties she brought into his life. She knew how much he worried for her. Worried that she was afraid, worried that she was hurting, worried that was lonely.

The most painful part of the guilt was knowing the her brother’s fears weren’t altogether unfounded. No, she supposed, they weren’t unfounded at all. She would characterize her feelings as more anxious than afraid, but the other two concerns she knew he held were accurate. The latter led to the former, in a way. She had discovered there was nothing quite like the feeling of isolation, of division from others, to exacerbate preexisting pain. To make it metastasize, grow into something greater than itself. Seclusion bred sorrowful things when it revealed what was latent.

She had never had her brother’s power with people. He had a natural sort of charisma about him, as awkward as he could be at times. He seemed to draw people to him. More important though, words came easy to him. He could carry a conversation when it dashed against rocks, and somehow bring it out to the far side relatively unscathed. Whether it was a matter of skill, or a matter of luck, social things seemed to turn out positive rather than negative for him more often than not.

Words had never come easy to her. Not when she was talking to someone other than her mother or her brother. She could read cues, interpret signs, and understand context well enough, but there was somehow a disconnect when it came to putting all of that into play when encoding something herself. Ironically, and perhaps appropriately, she couldn’t articulate why. She only knew that it made everything harder. That the persona she conveyed caused people to say she was ‘cold,’ or ‘dead,’ or ‘inhuman.’ Those her knew her well knew this wasn’t the case, but aside from her family, the only people who fell into that category were Shinji’s closest friends, who had spent enough time with him, and by extension, with Rei when she was around, that they read her demeanor differently. She didn’t really have friends of her own, she knew that much. It had been that way since she was a child. She had worried her teachers in kindergarten by the fact that she seemed to turn away all the kids who tried to connect with her. This hadn’t changed, and by the time she headed to junior high, no one tried anymore. The teachers had kept worrying of course, but as she got older, this worry had been offset by their satisfaction and appreciation of her academic performance; apparently, at the end of the day, even elementary school teachers cared more about a child’s grades than her ability to fit into classroom society.

She hadn’t understood it then. Hadn’t understood why her responses, her reactions shut others down. It was only after hearing the covert comments too many times that she had realized what other people thought of her. And by then, the road to remake her reputation had seemed entirely too insurmountable.

That perspective had resulted in her leading a life that was half-spent in sequestration. The silver lining to that, of which she constantly reminded herself, was that she had devoted plenty of time to pursuing her passions, even if it was at a solo capacity. The filled bookcases in her room were one testament to that. The filled folders on her laptop were another, and the guitar resting in its stand by her desk was a third. The lack of company had done wonders for her creativity, she supposed. Was it a worthy exchange though? That was all in the eye of the beholder.

Pulling her gaze away from the ceiling, Rei brought it to rest on the guitar sitting by the desk. The chrome elements of Stratocaster-imitation form glistened in the sunlight from the window above her desk, opened to let the breeze flow in (a partially successful attempt to offset the heat without resorting to blasting the AC, because Rei preferred a more natural solution). She knew it would be at the earliest, four hours before her brother made it home. His shifts had been extended recently, on account of another employee quitting. And of course, her mother wouldn’t be home for at least another hour after that, a timetable that had become the new normal over the past several months. There wasn’t much for her to do in the meantime. Shinji was officially the house chef, because he argued that it was a way for him to ‘destress,’ which was his way of saying that cooking was one of his favorite pastimes, and that he didn’t want anyone else in the kitchen, which he had unofficially declared his ‘dignified domain’ in one of his more emphatic (and comedic) moments.

Rei didn’t particularly like summers, primarily because of how empty they often ended up feeling. This summer had been particularly forlorn one, as with her brother spending nearly all of his time either working or in the company of his new friend Kaworu (she suspected that the her brother and the ashen-hair boy would be dating soon, not that she resented Kaworu; from the two brief interactions she had had with him, he seemed quite nice actually), she had been left to her own devices for days on end. At this point, her routines, as much as she appreciated them, had begun to feel somewhat monotonous. She had taken to browsing blogs lately, in search of a new potentially hobby she could try out to add some diversity to her day, but so far, she hadn’t had much lucky finding anything that she had gravitated toward with any great enthusiasm. She had briefly considered trying out her hand at archery, before swiftly coming to the conclusion that as enticing as her visions of Legolasesque prowess were, the actual effort that would undoubtedly be required to achieve any degree of proficiency wasn’t something she quite felt up to. The fact that even if she did manage to become a competent archer, her chances of being able to skate down a staircase atop a shield would most likely remain negligible was also a bit of a buzzkill. And so, at least for the moment, her current hobbies would have to suffice. She decided that tomorrow, she would take a walk down to Off the Shelf! If she was going to stick with what she knew, it wouldn’t hurt to at least get some new reading material. Well, new to her anyway.

With a barely audible sigh proceeding from her lips, Rei pushed herself up and out of her chair, and left the corner of the room, strolling over to her desk lackadaisically. She retrieved her guitar from its stand and plugged it into her practice amp, positioned alongside the desk. Flipping the amp on and turning the volume to a decent level, satisfied with her other levels. She then set herself down in her desk chair and rolled her volume knob up. She paused for a few seconds, thinking of a good song selection. After a moment, she made her decision.

The first palm muted notes sprung out from the guitar as she picked through the intro, before launching into the melody itself, the pensive tone pervading the room. She allowed the traces of a smile to steal onto her face. It was a beautiful song. One which promise never to leave, never to vanish. One whose titled she liked to think vowed to be with her always. It was a piece she was content to return to. That always seemed to make her day a little less lonely.

Perhaps then, the particular events brought about by her playing that afternoon could only be considered highly appropriate. If one was to take this view, then perhaps it could be called an act of fate, rather than a mere coincidence, that Rei did not think to close her window before she started playing on that particular occasion, something which she habitually did, half out of shyness and doubt of her own talent (unfounded doubt, of course, as anyone who had heard her play could attest to), and part out of respect for her the elderly couple who lived next door, whom she suspected were probably not fans of some of the more ‘enthusiastic’ music she played (which was to say, progressive metal). It would, however, be unfair to Rei to blame her for failing to realize that the elderly couple had moved across the country several months before to live closer to their family. It wasn’t as if she interacted with them frequently, or in fact, paid much attention to them at all. They had kept to themselves, something which she also did. On the other hand, a better case could be made to label Rei a bit on the oblivious side for not noticing the new neighbors who had moved in several days before. That had been a bit more of an affair, though not one which either Yui or Shinji could have been aware of, considering it occurred during the day while they were both absent. Rei, on the other hand, had no such excuse. Her excuse would be, if one were to ask her for it, was that she had been particularly engrossed in rereading one of her favorite books on that specific day, which was in fact true. All the same, it meant that she was unaware of her new neighbors. And furthermore, unaware that one of them would soon hear her playing. And of course, logically, this also meant she was unaware that her life was about to change. However, a lack of awareness rarely averts something from happening, and it certainly did not in this case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asuka glared down at the figurine in her hands, scowling. “Dammit,” she grumbled to herself, pulling away the now-severed head from the body of the dragon, and inspecting the jagged break. She spared a glance at the unraveled square of bubble wrap in the box below. “Well that’s just great.” With a sigh and a shake of her head, she set the broken figurine down on top of the bookcase. “I’ll have to fix you later. Gotta ask Misato if we have any glue, or if it’s lost in one of the boxes out in the garage.” She scowled, and turned back to sorting through the contents of the box. She extracted two more figurines from her their bubble wrap entombments, and was pleased to see that her cobra and sorceress were both still intact. Setting them on the shelf beside the beheaded dragon, she grab one of the discarded pieces of bubble wrap and held it up to the light coming through her window. “I guess you didn’t totally fail,” she remarked dryly, before crumpling the strip in her hand and listening to the series of satisfying pops that occurred as a result.

Tossing the now-pointless piece of plastic into the trash bin by her door, she set her hands on her hips and surveyed the pile of boxes that had yet to be unpacked, a hoard still big enough to lay claim to an entire corner of the room with a vengeance. What next? She ran her eyes over the bare walls of the room, finding the off-white coloration unappealing, to say the least. When was this designed? The 80s? Posters it is.

While she now had a goal in mind for the next step in her unboxing/room design (she preferred the latter description, because it sounded more dignified in her mind, and didn’t serve as quite the same reminder that she had just moved, but in all reality, the former was the more accurate description), finding the objects she needed to accomplish that goal was easier said than done. Opening yet another box, and discovering once again that the objects of her intentions were not within (said box instead contained several stacks of CDs, relics of a time before MP3s were the absolute norm), she set it atop the growing pile of boxes that had failed to contain her quarry, with a derisive glance at the blurred face of Avril Lavigne that stared back at her from within. “Why do I even still have you?,” she muttered as she folded the lid back over. And more importantly, why the hell didn’t we label more of these? I blame Kaji. Because yeah, the person who basically didn’t pack up any of my stuff is to blame for why I didn’t label it. Right.

With a roll of her eyes (mostly directed at herself, if she was being honest), she grabbed one more box from the trove. If they’re not in here, I’m taking a break. This is so stupid. As she opened this particular box, she was at that point not surprised to find that rather than the posters she sought, it instead contained two tight rows of game cases. Well, at least I found something decent. Box in hand, she made for the living room. I’m pretty sure Misato left the bottom shelf of the tv stand empty for these.

She was partway through the process of shelving the games when she felt her pocket vibrate. Pausing her activity, she pulled out her phone and looked over the text that had just arrived.

Tiffany H: How’s day four of the move-in going?

Asuka considered the question for a moment, before writing her response.

Asuka R: About as well as the first three lol.

Asuka R: As in, tedious

Asuka R: How’s life in Terahburg?

Tiffany H: Oh, fun. Same as always, tbh.

Asuka R: Aww, and here I thought you’d be sweet and say it was boring without me or something ;)

Tiffany H: Oh, I mean, you’re right! Whatever will we do? Life’s lost all purpose now that you’re gone xD

Asuka R: Now that’s more like it!

Tiffany H: We’re all lost without you Asuka! We’ll never see the light again without you!

Asuka R: And don’t you forget it!

Tiffany H: In fact, the entire town might perish out of sheer sorrow! Our lives our meaningless now!

Asuka R: Okay, that might be a bit of a stretch. . .

Tiffany H: Ya think? Lol

Asuka R: Hey, don’t stop on my account!

Tiffany H: I’m running out of material here *shrugs*

Asuka R: And here I thought you were a true thespian!

Tiffany H: Yeah, but talking about you gets boring after a while. ;)

Asuka R: I’m hurt. Deeply hurt. *turns nose up*

Tiffany H: There, there, you’ll survive. Just don’t drink the Asherdale kool-aid and forget we exist. Lol

Asuka R: Asherdale kool-aid? Seriously?

Tiffany H: Like I said, I’m running out of material here. Don’t @ me.

Asuka R: Uh huh

Asuka R: Right

Tiffany H: So, what’s the ‘dale like? We got any competition?

Asuka R: I’ll let you know when I figure out what the ’the ‘dale’ is

Tiffany H: Ur 1mp0ssebl3

Asuka R: My eyes are scarred now, thx

Tiffany H: You deserved it. So, what’s the ‘dale like?

Asuka R: Best adjective = boring

Tiffany H: RIP

Asuka R: No competition so far, so you don’t need to worry. The best they have going for them is an

arcade.

Tiffany H: An arcade?

Asuka R: Yeah, I saw it when we were getting into town. Looked it up, it’s some sort of retro deal.

Tiffany H: Retro arcades? Is that a thing now?

Asuka R: Apparently it is in the northwest.

Tiffany H: Whelp, sounds great

Asuka R: Oh yeah, fr

Tiffany H: Well, enjoy ur arcade. I gtg get ready for work.

Asuka R: Ok, say hi to Amanda for me!

Tiffany H: Will do! Ttyl!

When she had finished shelving the games, Asuka made her way back to her room, a determined glint in her eyes (not an unusual expression for her). Alright, now it’s poster time! I don’t care if I have to go through every damn box in that corner, I am finding them! I’m not going to let an outdated 80s color palate get the best of me! And plus, her mind added as an afterthought, Once they’re up, maybe it’ll actually start feeling a little more like my room. And less like someone else’s room, that I’m just staying in. A frown briefly crossed her face, but she tossed it away, steeling her mouth into a resolute line.

Approximately forty-five minutes later, the stack of boxes was no longer a stack, but instead a small pond spread across half of the room. Asuka, meanwhile, was red in the face, and looked as though she was a few steps away from steam vents cartoonishly bursting out of her ears. One final, unopened box sat in the corner, the last remnant of the toppled tower. She knelt by it, her face spelling murder, and began to cut through the tape with her pocket knife. . .

“Verdammt, wo sind sie?! Das ist lächerlich!” (Dammit, where are they?! This is ridiculous!)

She punched floor next to her, gritting her teeth as she looked down at the contents of the last box, namely a set of drum skins, and her stick bag. Still glowering, she removed these items and headed to the spare room. Might as well put these with my kit anyway. She couldn’t deny that one positive of this house was the presence of the extra bedroom, which meant that her designated practice space was no longer a garage. That was definitely a positive. Even if it one of the only ones so far.

Setting the sticks down by her stool and the drum skins alongside her drum cases in the corner, she looked over at the kit with a degree of temptation in her eyes. I should probably at least try to finish unpacking, now that I covered my entire room. But . . . I mean, it could help me calm down. And ignore the fact that we probably forgot the box with my posters somewhere. Walking over, she took her seat behind the kit and grabbed a couple sticks from the sling that hung off the floor tom. Just something to blow off steam. I don’t need to practice a song or anything. She was about to count herself off (out of habit rather than necessity, really), when an adventitious sound reached her ears. She blinked, pausing. That sounds . . . oddly like “Always With Me, Always With You.” She looked around, searching for the source of the faint guitar playing she had picked up. Her eyes locked in on the window behind her, which until that moment, she hadn’t noticed was partially open. Rising from her seat and dropping her sticks back into the sling bag, she walked over to the window and looked out.

This particular window looked down on the strip of the yard which ran alongside the building, and faced the house next door. She couldn’t be certain, but it sounded to her as though the music was coming out of one the windows of that house, which also happened to be opened. Her interest piqued, she decidedly to get a closer look. She headed for the stairs.

Emerging out into the backyard, she made for the wall that marked the border between her family’s yard, and the neighbor’s property. It wasn’t much of a wall, really. It only reached slightly higher than her midriff. She looked down at it skeptically. Well, I could practically step over this is if I wanted to. Guess they’re not too worried about trespassing.

Outside and closer to the guitar playing which floated out into the air, it was relatively easy to determine that its source was indeed the window she had identified earlier. Glancing up toward said window now, Asuka pursed her lips, faced with a bit of a decision. One one hand, she could forget about it and head back inside. She had determined the location of the unseen guitarist, and considering he or she was her neighbor, it seemed like there was a decent chance she’d be able to find out who the guitarist was eventually. On the other hand, going back in and continuing with her unpacking wasn’t the most enticing of options. In the end, she chose the path that let her procrastinate on facing her bedroom’s recently introduced ground cover.

Climbing up over the half-wall, she jumped down into the neighbors’ yard. She decided that if she ran in to any sort of trouble, or said neighbors turned out to be less than thrilled by her trespassing, she could book it back to her house with relative ease. It wasn’t as if the wall would provide any significant barrier. Plus, it’s not as though I’m going to try to break into their house or anything. I mean, I’m going to go ring the doorbell. Though I suppose I could have just gone out to the street from my house and gone over that way. Oh well. This’ll be fine.

Still listening to the solo (which, as she heard more of it and paid greater attention, she had to admit sounded quite good) rolling down from the open window, Asuka walked up along the side of the house, and curved around to the front until she found herself standing directly in front of the door. Alright, here we go. Plan ‘avoid unpacking’ #1, activate! Reaching up, she pressed in the doorbell and waited. She heard a bell-toweresque recording play from somewhere close by the door inside in response to the ring. That’s an interesting choice for a doorbell. Sounds sort of like an antique clock. That might not be a good sign . . . I can’t imagine anyone under the age of fifty using that for their doorbell. Oh well. If it turns out the guitarist is a retiree or something, I can always still act polite or something, say I thought his or her playing sounded pretty good, and then bail. Simple enough.

Asuka waited for a good thirty seconds, wondering if someone was going to come to the door. After a few more moments, she decided that the answer to that question was probably a definitive ‘no.’ Hmm . . . now the question is, do I ring the doorbell again? Or do I just head back home? On one hand, they might have heard it and just don’t want to answer, and in that case, I don’t want to be the jerk who can’t take a hint. On the other hand, maybe they just didn’t hear it the first time. That’s a possibility too. Which means it might not hurt to wring it again. Asuka pulled out her phone and looked down at the clock on the lock screening, waiting for it to change. I’ll give them another minute. If no one comes by then, I’ll ring it one more time. And if no one shows up after that too, I’ll head back to my place.

Watching the digits on the screen, Asuka gave a small nod to herself as the moment passed. She reached forward and gave the doorbell a final ring. Once again, she heard the recording play from within the house. You know, I think I’d get pretty tired of that if it was my doorbell. Just imagine what that would be like if someone tried to prank you by ringing it repeatedly. That would get real annoying, real quick.

After another solid twenty seconds or so, Asuka came to the conclusion that no one was coming to the door. Shrugging, she turned and headed back out toward the sidewalk, content to make her way home. Well, I tried. Guess I’ll find out who the guitarist is another day. Unboxing time it is then. Lovely. However, as she turned away from the path up to the door and angled herself back toward her resident, she heard the faint sound of the guitar carrying out from alongside the house. This time, however, it was a different song. She paused, narrowing her eyes in focus as she searched for the title. Oh, come on, I know I know this one. It’s not Satriani though . . . I don’t think it’s Vai either. Dammit, who is it? She shook her head, disgruntled with the fact that she couldn’t place the tune. Fantastic. Now that’s going to be stuck in my head and bugging me for the rest of the day. Presque vu sucks like that. It was at that instant that another thought snuck into her mind. The guitarist could be the only person home. That would explain why no one came to the door. If they’re practicing, they might have earbuds in or headphones on, which would mean they couldn’t hear me. So, I’d have to get their attention with something else. And their window is open . . .

Asuka practically sprinted the short distance back to her house, a confident grin across her face. When she finally emerged from the back door roughly five minutes later, she was glad to hear that the mysterious musician was still playing. Once again, the guitarist had moved on to a new song. This one, however, Asuka recognized. “Tender Surrender,” she murmured. “Not a bad choice.” At this point, Asuka was almost certain that whoever was playing was probably a good bit older than her. I mean, seriously, Steve Vai hasn’t been big since the nineties. At least, I don’t think so. I mean, I only know him because of Kaji, so that definitely says something. But hey, I’m not a guitarist though, so who knows? Maybe they still adore him or something. All the same, her desire to avoid completing (or at the very least, returning to) her unpacking process outweighed her potential concerns. Plus, her new plan kept her even further away from the person whose attention she was trying to get. Which meant that if they didn’t care for her methods, she could be long gone before they could do much about it. The logic of her strategy was moderately convincing, if she did say so herself, even if it was purely designed to give her a somewhat rational justification to her better judgment for her own procrastination.

Pulling herself up and over the sad excuse for a dividing wall, Asuka found herself in the as-of-yet-nameless neighbors’ yard once again. She strolled over a little closer to the house, positioning herself so that she was in a direct line with the open window. I have to say, this is one way I never expected that year I pitched for the softball team in middle school to come in handy. She looked down at the construction in her hand, the centerpiece of her quickly-concocted scheme. Guess all of that packing newspaper might turn out to have a second purpose too. Hopefully it’ll do better at this than it did at keeping Misato’s shot glass collection intact. With a chuckle to herself, Asuka rolled her arm back, lifting the paper airplane into the air, and let it fly toward her target. It soared upward, its arc accurate, and slipped straight through the open window, disappearing from her view.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rei was nearing the close of the song. Her plectrum had been relegated to a secondary position, pinched between her pinky and ring fingers, to keep it from obstructing her fingerpicking. Only the pads of her skin now met the coils of steel, coaxing melody from the taut metal. Though the piece was not an anthemic one at any point, never attaining any great summit or volume in its course, it had still diminished from its peak, drifting back into itself as the notes grew more wavering, less forceful. They now resembled soft, intermittent tears intermingled with trembling gasps, though whether these expressions were borne out of sorrow or ecstasy was a mystery offered up to the beholder’s mind for judgement.

In her mind, Rei could hear, could feel the presence of the band about her. Every feature, each individual auditory fragment of the track came to her as she moved her fingers, by memory rather than sight. She listened as the band’s accompaniment slowly gave way, dissolving into pleasant stillness, sending its light and focus toward the guitar’s shuddering cry, until it was the only sound left to fill the emptiness, in soundscape both physical and mental. But fill this space it did nonetheless, each caressed, drawn note wandering through the fold’s of her shut eyes, dancing over the defined, stringent edges of her desk and shaving them down into something smoother, unbroken, winding. Blurring the room she half-saw through the image she conceived, transfiguring the elements of the space to abstraction, melting the absolute and the tangible into the fantastical, the speculative.

As she glided into the final phrase, she slowed even further, elongating the notes, letting their voices sing louder than her conducting digits. She had led the song to its conclusion, she let the song itself lead what was left. It extended, sweeping over the growing seconds, echoing as it reiterated, reprising and refusing to fade. Rei followed the draw, her fingers seemingly moving of a will other than her own, glad assistants in the art. At last, the final reverberation arrived, pleading, yet peaceful. There were seven notes left, which dwindled to six, and from there it faded to five, a receding handful.

The fifth note was about to declare its presence when the moment was broken. Something struck Rei’s forehead, fracturing her concentration and dream state alike to shards. Her fingers fell from their unconscious ballet, the necessary pressure absent. The string buzzed against the fret before it died an abrupt dead, cut off by its impact against her lax digit. The song was stripped into nothing, the ending cumbersome and unheeding, true closer beyond its grasp. Rei’s eyes tore open as her hand plunged away from the neck, dropping limp to her side as she stared sightlessly at the desk before her, her blank visage betraying no hint of her acute bemusement.

Rei dropped her pick onto the top of the desk, and lifted the instrument from her lap, returning it to its stand once more. Slanting her head downward, she reached out and retrieved the ostensibly offending object from the floor by her feet. Lifting it into her lap, she rotated it around in her grasp for a few moments, examining the shaped newsprint, complied into a new structure, a form capable of flight synthesized from ink and pulped fibers. Adjacent to weightless, an insubstantial avian, an artificial imitation. Its name was derived from bellowing metallic brutes that claimed the skies as their domain, raging turbines thrumming, incensed engines clamoring, the bellow of war on their wings and a cold caterwaul in their grinding wheels as they wrenched away from the ground and took their place in the belly of the beast. Such a marked difference, an undeniable dichotomy, between this tenuous newspaper lark and those titanium pterosaurs that prowled the clouds at humanity’s behest. To think that both such beings were constructed and christened by the same species was a perplexing, confounding concept, one which spoke to the multitudinous nature of sentience. It could give attention no less assiduous than the sedulous scrutiny bestowed upon the architecture of alleged advancement to the most minute of pursuits. The value of each undertaking determined by the engineers, by the consumers, by whatever society observed its progress.

It was curious, the capacity which such a seemingly innocuous, inconsequential object possessed to act as a conduit for contemplations of the existential and philosophical varieties. Nevertheless, Rei pulled her thoughts away from such metaphysical meanderings and extracted her eyes from their glazed gaze, elevating them from the errant examination. Equally curious were the origins of the airplane. Her emphasis adjusted accordingly, Rei rested the newsprint coated craft on her desktop and rose from her seat to survey the yard from her window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asuka watched the empty window closed, scrutinizing the vacuum that had devoured her airplane several moments earlier. It showed no signs of providing any sort of reaction to that consumption. However, Asuka was nonetheless certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that her newspaper agent had fulfilled its intended purpose. Moments before, the song, which had crawled to a languid and hazy, yet subtly rapturous, finale, had come to a clipped conclusion. There was no mistaking that the ending was unintentional. The last note had been mostly-dead, the tone dulled and buzzed out, a quickly recognizable accident, that had been replaced by silence in an instant, the bum note sheared from existence before it could linger. That . . . was rough. Ooops. Well, hopefully they don’t get too annoyed.

At first, Asuka had expected that the guitarist would take one of two routes. On one hand, the musician might immediately make an appearance, due to the sudden interruption, and apparent derailment of the song. This had seemed to be the most probable outcome to Asuka. After all, most musicians didn’t appreciate being disrupted while they were in the midst of a piece. On the other hand, the guitarist might first finish the song, and then come to the window. Though the second possible outcome seemed somewhat less likely than the first, Asuka knew that there were many individuals who took their musicianship seriously to the extent that they would merely continue onward as if they had never been disturbed in the first place, until they finished their performance. Of course, given that the guitarist was practicing rather than performing, Asuka didn’t expect that this would be the case.

This was all to say that Asuka was not prepared for the reaction occasioned by her action. Or, to be more precise, the lack thereof. Asuka had firmly expected the guitarist to do something. Which was why she grew progressively more and more agitated, albeit it in an understated manner, as the seconds flew by and it appeared as though her ‘delivery’ had prompted positively no response whatsoever. No one appeared at the window, nor did the playing resume, and furthermore, there was not so much as the slightest audible outburst in response to the disruption. Aside from the botched note and the vexatious silence, there was nothing to indicate that the guitarist had even noticed the paper aircraft.

Asuka tilted her head as she continued to stare up at the window, her cheeks and lips creasing downward into the beginning of a frown. Come on, do something. Or are you actually going to just ignore that? Of course, there was no answer to this question, given that Asuka had inquired it of her own mind, rather than posing it out loud. The stillness stretched longer, no termination in sight. Asuka rested a hand against her hip, before dropping it back to her side. That might send the wrong sorta message when they finally decide to show up. If they decide to show up. Asuka’s frown had now passed its infancy, maturing into a full-blown line of irritation. Which is looking less and less likely. A measure of tension had filled the air, as anticipation of a reaction had turned to exasperation, and perhaps a portion of perturbation as well. The tension gave no indication that it had any intention of abating prior to Asuka’s departure. Well that’s just great. Dammit, I guess it’s back to my lovely, most definitely not covered in a mound of boxes room. Fantastic. Rolling her eyes, Asuka half-turned to withdraw, when a figure suddenly appeared in the window. Asuka hastily righted herself as her gaze locked in on the arrival. Took you long enough.

The person looking out of the window was not who Asuka had been expecting. The figure’s blue locks glistened vaguely in the sunlight as it touched them. Her eyes were dark, a rich, bark-like brown, the hue of tilled soiled moistened by a smattering of a rain. They practically gleamed with racing thoughts, deep pools of incalculable deliberation. It was the overall aura of her face, however, that knocked Asuka from her stride. It was expressionless, utterly unreadable, beyond the definitive certainty that the mind behind worked tirelessly and furiously. Asuka could discern no trace, however slight, of any sentiment or emotion in it. The emptiness, the absence, was uncanny. Asuka’s mind raced as well now, seeking an explanation for the void she beheld. Maybe I’m just too far away. After all, I’m a good distance from where she is. Maybe if we were closer, I’d be able to tell . . . something. Her attempts at persuading herself that this was a reasonable explanation failed miserably. The argument was woefully, blatantly incorrect. There was no denying the simple fact that the girl’s face, despite the fact that it appeared as if she was no older than Asuka, perhaps even younger, could have easily belonged to someone who spent years perfecting the perfect vizard. Somehow, I get the feeling that she’s never lost a poker game.

The duo’s encounter began in silence, both parties merely taking in the other, no words exchanged. Asuka did her best to hide her own feelings of confusion, as well as residual irritation. Can’t match her poker face, but I might as well try to not look too worked up. When the silence had lasted long enough to become uncomfortable, especially when combined with the force of the girl’s undeviating gaze, Asuka decided she would have to break it, as it didn’t seem feasible that the supposed guitarist would be the one to do so.

“Hey, you sounded good!,” Asuka called up, doing her best to sound both amicable and positive, in spite of the fact that these weren’t the foremost sentiments in her mind.

The girl said nothing in response, though Asuka briefly thought she spotted the barest, vaguest hint of a smile alight on the edges of the girl’s mouth for a split second. Well, no news is good news, right? And who doesn’t like a compliment? Guess I might have to do the heavy lifting in the conversation though. “That was Tender Surrender, right?”

The girl remained silent, but gave a small nod of her head, her expression unchanged. Asuka decided she would interpret this as an encouraging reaction. I mean, she doesn’t seem angry that I disrupted her earlier, so all things considered, I’m going to take this as a success so far. “Steve Vai is pretty cool. Classic 80s guitar, you know?”

The girl nodded again, blinking as she did so, before resuming her stare. Is that the first time I’ve seen her blink?, Asuka wondered. Because I think it is, and that’s more than a little bit unnerving. Because I’m almost positive she’s been staring at me for a couple minutes. No way, she must have blinked earlier. People don’t go minutes without blinking. That would be . . . unusual . . . and most likely not healthy for your eyes.

Asuka decided to try out a different subject. There’s got to be something that will get her to talk . . . right? Maybe? Hopefully . . . ?

“Anyway, I heard you earlier, and I wanted to see who the good guitarist was.” She bookended this with an agreeable chuckle, that was roughly eighty-five percent forced. “I’m Asuka Kaji. I just moved in to the house next door,” she pointed back over her her shoulder, “a few days ago.”

The girl tilted her head as she received this information, giving Asuka the impression that this was in fact new to her, and she was taking some time to process it. A few more seconds passed, and at last, the girl spoke. “I’m Rei Ikari,” she paused, and then added, “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, but carried down from the window fairly well all the same. It had a calmness to it, that matched up perfectly with her reserved demeanor. It was nearly a monotone, but not quite. There was a note of inflection in it, an element of what Asuka thought was cheerfulness, though it was difficult for her to be certain.

This time, Asuka was the one who tilted her head. Well, at least I got her name. Not sure why she’s thanking me though. “What for?,” she inquired, maintaining her amicable exterior, which was somewhat less forced than it had been several seconds earlier. Perhaps only seventy-five percent at this point, possibly even seventy.

Rei answered in the same voice, devoid of all but a hint of pleasantry. “For the compliment. I’m glad you like my playing.” Asuka hung on to that hint of pleasantry, decoding it to mean that Ikari was genuinely happy. At least, I hope that’s what it means. Although, she could just be putting on a front just like me. I’ll say she’s genuine for now though. It’s easier to be friendly when I don’t have to constantly second guess the other person.

Asuka smiled again, an expression which was mostly real. “No problem. Like I said, you sounded good.”

Rei nodded to this, but didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, she looked down, at something obscured from Asuka’s sight, and then back up at the other girl. “Would you like to come to the door? You won’t have to shout up from there?”

Asuka wasn’t quite sure that the volume she had been speaking at could be deemed shouting per se, but in comparison to Ikari’s subdued volume, she supposed she could see the logic in the other girl’s words. “Sure. Sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Rei intoned, not deviating in the slightest from what appeared to be her default voice. Stepping away from the window, she disappeared from Asuka’s view. Asuka set off along the side of the house, making for the front door, considering their conversation so far as she did so. Okay, saying ‘default voice’ might be a bit harsh. Makes it sound like she’s a robot or something. I don’t think she’s AI. I mean, probably not. She allowed herself a quiet little chortle as she rounded the corner and strolled over to the porch. She paused in front of the door. Guess I don’t need to ring the doorbell. Which means I get to avoid the antique clock. Or bell tower. Whichever one it sounds like. Probably both. Either way, not hearing it is a positive.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door in front of her opening. Rei halted in the doorway, looking at Asuka. Up close, Asuka couldn’t discern any substantial differences from what she had already observed of Rei’s demeanor. However, the hints of a smile which she thought she had spotted earlier were more pronounced now that Asuka had a better view, making Ikari look moderately more genial to Asuka’s eyes. Huh, maybe I was right. She’s more friendly when I’m not looking up at her framed in a window. And I thought that argument was absurd. Even though it was my argument. Ha! Shows what you know, me!

Asuka smiled back at Rei, the most genuine one she had offered Ikari so far. Abruptly, Rei held out a hand toward Asuka. She looked down, and her smile fell a bit. The blue-haired girl was holding out the paper airplane to her. “Is this yours?,” she asked, giving no signs that she was angry, which threw Asuka off once again. Alright, maybe she’s just at good at hiding when she’s upset as she seems to be at hiding when she’s happy. Then again . . . I don’t see anything. Not in her face, or her posture. And she still smiling. Well, if that’s what that is, I mean. Maybe I didn’t actually disrupt her? Maybe she just messed up on her own? Or maybe she really doesn’t care?

Asuka nodded slowly, assuming an empathetic expression, less cheerful and slightly more chagrined. Just slightly, however. She wasn’t one to act particular embarrassed, even if she was. Not that she “Yeah, that’s mine. Sorry if I threw you off, by the way.”

Rei extended her hand a little further, offering the miniature parody of an aircraft to the redhead. “It’s okay. I was nearing the song’s conclusion anyway.”

Asuka accepted the offered airplane. “You sure?”

Rei nodded. “Yes. Your technique isn’t bad.”

Once again, Rei managed to say something that Asuka was not anticipating. My technique? Where did that come from? This is kind of getting on my nerves. A little bit, anyway Who just randomly switches topic mid-conversation like that? “What technique?”

“Your folding technique. It’s effective. Do you make origami?”

Oh. That is not what I expected her to say. “Ah, okay. Thanks. But no, I don’t.” I mean, technically I have, but I don’t need to tell her about how great that went. Damn cat. Since when do cats eat paper anyway? When did that become a thing? And to think people say dogs are the ones who will eat anything.

“I think you’d be good at it if you tried,” Rei said sensibly.

“I’ll let you know if I ever try it out.”

Rei nodded, her faint smile becoming somewhat more defined, as if this was the most logical and appropriate response, and she appreciated that Asuka had used it. Asuka decided it was time for her to get in another question, before the conversation took an additional unpredictable turn. “So, do you go to Sarea High?” Might as well figure out if she’ll be going to the same school as me in the fall. It wouldn’t be a bad idea at all to know some people before I get there.

Rei only nodded again in answer to this question.

“Cool. I’ll be going there in the fall. You a,” she made a quick estimate of how old she thought Ikari looked to be, “junior?”

Rei shook her head. “I’m a senior.”

Well, I was only off by a year, that’s not too bad. “Me too.” You know, for expecting the mystery guitarist to be some guy in his forties, it turns out we have a lot more in common than I thought.

Rei didn’t respond to this information, but merely continued to look at Asuka, her head tilting slightly to the side, the smile on her face seeming more prominent than ever, though still more of a light impression than a defined expression. Asuka met the girl’s gaze for a moment, and matched the bluenette’s smile with a wider one of her own. I mean . . . she’s kind of unusual, but she doesn’t seem so bad. Could definitely do with talking a bit more, but whatever. “Are you in band?”

Rei shook her head. “No. I’d like to be in jazz ensemble though.”

Asuka grinned, and remarked, “I mean, from how you sounded earlier, I’m sure you could tackle jazz. Plus, it’s fun for guitarists!” Is it my imagination, or is that a tiny tint of blush I see on her cheeks right now.

“Thank you. Again,” Rei said softly. “I haven’t auditioned though.”

Asuka’s smile faltered, and she pursed her lips. “Why not?”

The imprint of a smile and the vague reddening slipping from her face, Rei shrugged. “Nerves, I guess,” she answered.

“Ah. I understand.” I’ve been there. Who hasn’t? But hell, she’s definitely good enough to make the cut! Especially in a town like this. I highly doubt they have a great jazz scene here or anything. Asuka paused, but then set off again, more animated, “Well hey, you should audition this fall! I’m going to be there! So there’ll for sure be someone else there who knows you’re a fantastic guitar!”

The mild coloring that Asuka suspected was a blush most definitely returned to Rei’s face with this comment. Without meeting Asuka’s gaze, a strange change from her pattern up to that point, she replied, “Maybe so.”

“Well, think about it at least.”

Rei nodded, and after another handful of seconds had elapsed, asked, “What instrument do you play?”

“I play drums,” Asuka answered.

Rei looked back to Asuka once more, her indistinct smile back on her face. “Are you going to do marching band?”

Asuka shook her head. “No, I prefer playing with a full kit. That’s why I’m going for jazz ensemble instead. It’s what I did at my old school back east in Terahburg.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yep,” Asuka stated smartly. A new idea had emerged in her mind, one which didn’t seem like a half bad one. “You know, we should jam together sometime. Since we’re literally next door to each other.”

Rei said nothing at first, but Asuka noticed that the blue-haired girl’s eyes looked more distant now, practically looking straight past Asuka. She was tempted to turn around, to see if there was something behind her worthy of attention, but she somehow doubted there was. She’s probably just appraising the idea. She seems like the type of person who thinks things over. Thinks things over intensely, to be precise.

When the space between the two girls had lapsed into silence for approximately thirty seconds, Rei spoke up. “What type of music do you like?”

Asuka gave a small shrug in response to this. “The short answer is, I like a lot of stuff. I’m open to pretty much anything. And the long answer is, well, long.” She let out a little laugh to accompany her quip. “But, you might be able to tell,” she shot a pointed glance down at her shirt, which featured an image of a man removing his face from his skull to reveal a bundle of bandages beneath it, an action which was surprisingly depicted in a manner that wasn’t particularly gruesome (which she personally thought a rather unusual choice for a gothic metal album cover, but she enjoyed the art nonetheless, a fact evidence by her possession of the shirt), “I like metal.”

Rei’s eyes followed Asuka’s indication, and studied her garment, taking in the image. “That is interesting,” she commented, giving no real suggestion of her actual opinion of the artwork. “However, I’m not familiar with Lacuna Coil.”

Asuka curled her lips into a wry half-smile. “Not enough people are. They’re pretty awesome though. If you like gothic metal, that is.”

Rei nodded gently, in a manner that came across as fairly noncommittal. “I’ll have to check them out.” Her tone didn’t particularly evince true interest either, thought Asuka couldn’t say that it suggested the opposite for that matter. It fell in line with almost all of Rei’s speech, in that it was nothing if not neutral and more than a little ambiguous. I guess you could call it balanced. It could go equally toward either side.

“So,” Asuka began, “What about you?”

“As in, what type of music do I like?,” Rei countered, seeking clarification.

“Yep.”

“I enjoy instrumental music. Especially when the guitar is the main focus.”

“I get ya, that makes sense,” Asuka remarked with a nod .

“But, I am open to many types of music as well,” Rei added.

“That always cool. Variety keeps things entertaining.”

“Indeed,” Rei agreed, though her voice showed no particular enthusiasm. The sentiment more closely resembled an acknowledgement of a basic principle that could only be recognized as a fact of life, rather than an identification with a specific, shared perspective. After this observation, she fell silent once more. Asuka tilted her head to the side, waiting for the other girl to continue, but she did not seem eager to break the silence which had descended. Well, she basically avoided that question. Or at least, she avoided giving a direct answer to it. I could press the issue, or save it for another time. Oh come on, I’m not one to save things for another time. She doesn’t seem to mind me too much so far. I’m gonna roll with that.

Asuka decided to reiterate her point. “So, what do ya think?”

“About what?,” Rei asked, her eyes twitching momentarily.

“About playing together sometime?”

Rei tilted her head to the side, before righting it and nodding. “I think that would be a good idea.”

“Cool!”

“Yeah,” Rei concurred, the smallest vestige of excitement briefly filling her voice. Asuka picked up on the alteration, as quickly as it passed. That sounded encouraging!

“Well, hey, let me give you my number, so you can get in touch with me when you want to. That work for you?

“Okay.” Rei extracted her phone from her pocket, a movement which Asuka mirrored.

It was when she glanced down at her phone that Asuka noted the time. Her eyes widened for a brief second. Crap! It’s that late already! Seriously, I’ve been here that long? I probably need to actually try to finish unpacking at least some of those boxes today. If only so I can move across my room without climbing on top of them. Oh well . . . all good procrastination has to end eventually.

Rei cradled her phone in her hands for a few moments. Asuka got the impression that Rei was a little hesitant (for whatever reason) to hand it over for Asuka to put in her number. Selecting a different strategy, Asuka opened her contact profile and held the phone out for Rei to see. “Here, you can just copy off of that. If you don’t want me to put my number in yours, I mean.”

Rei looked at the offered device for another moment or two, and then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Rei inspected the displayed information for a moment, and then quickly typed something into her phone. “Got it,” she announced.

“Awesome.” Asuka withdrew her phone and slid it back into her pocket. “Look, I gotta bounce. I still have lots of unpacking left to do.” She grinned and chuckled. “My room looks like a minor tornado or something tore threw it. So that’s fun.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Rei responded quietly, but the expression on her face gave the words weight. The impression of a smile that had lingered there for much of the conversation at the door had finally blossomed into something which could be firmly identified as a smile, even if it was a small, uncertain one.

“You too!,” Asuka agreed cheerily. Alright, now the question is, what will she interpret as a proper goodbye? This question proved unnecessary, as Rei gave Asuka another small nod, and then retreated into the house, closing the door behind her, in a startlingly swift burst of activity. Asuka blinked, shrugged mentally, and turned to go, trotting back out to the sidewalk.

Well, all things considered, I’d say that counts as an utter victory. Mystery guitarist turned out to be both under the age of thirty, and overall, pretty likable, at least, I think so. Not to mention I have someone to practice with already, and I’ve only been here a few days. And she lives next door. That’s a pretty great coincidence, I can’t lie. And best of all, I avoided unpacking for a solid half hour more. That’s the real success story here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rei didn’t leave after closing the door. She remained in the hall, watching the girl through the peephole as she departed. She couldn’t say exactly why she did it, only that it felt like the appropriate thing to do. When at last the redhead disappeared from her field of vision, she turned away from the door, and made her way to the kitchen. A strange sensation had developed in the pit of her stomach as they conversed. As with her logic for remaining at the door, the reason behind it barely escaped her mental grasp, as did an appropriate name for it. At best, she could characterize it as an unsettling experience, but not an unpleasant one. The feeling of a warbling tremor creeping up toward her chest, and then shying down and away once more. It played just beyond her reach, content to lurk there. Her first thought had been that perhaps food would lay the disturbance to rest. However, as she sat at the table and contemplated the granola bar she had retrieved from one of the cabinets that ringed the kitchen proper, she came to the abrupt realization that she lacked both the appetite and interest to eat it. Dropping the item in question back onto the tabletop, she tilted her head back to consider her kitchen ceiling. She decided that she preferred this view to the similar one she had observed earlier in the day.

There were fewer unpleasant memories wrapped up in this one. At least, that was the explanation she provided to herself, citing it as being the rationale reason for her mood. Because, clearly, it made perfect sense that studying the structure of the kitchen ceiling would fill her with a disconcerting, apprehensive excitement, but excitement all the same. Any other explanation would beg further questions. Questions she thought it was far, far, far too soon to be even touching upon. And that was without taking into account the fact that the excitement shied away from analysis. She suspected any efforts to investigate it would only yield confusing results. Results that led to the very same questions she wished to avoid. The safer alternative, then, was the ceiling. She was excited over the ceiling. Surely, if inspecting the ceiling of her bedroom could trigger a cascade of doubts and memories, inspecting the kitchen ceiling could make her feel giddy with an opaque happiness, until her brain was too muddled to focus on the shapes in the plaster and they meshed together into an indistinct collage of lines that made her eyes water when she tried to trace the maze she envision within it. Right?

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Echo x Reader: Sightseeing

(Author’s note:  I’m soooo sorry, I’ve been neglecting my Hobbit fanfiction duties, but I have Star Wars on the brain!  I don’t know, I’ve been drawn back in.  Here is a little something for you Echo fangirls.  He’s one of my faaaves!  This is pre-citadel, just so you know...)

   “Echo!” 

   The trooper glanced up from his datapad at the sound of his brother calling his name.  Fives was standing there, shaking his head in what looked like disappointment with arms folded across his armored chest.

   “What?” Echo shrugged his shoulders.

   “We’re in the middle of this beautiful city, and you’ve got your nose in a datapad!”  He gestured to their surroundings.  It was a warm night.  The duracrete was damp from a brief rainfall not too long before, and neon light signs reflected in the puddles.  Citizens walked back and forth, some talking on comms and others waiting in lines to try the exotic street foods that filled the air with scents that would make anyone’s mouth water.  It was beautiful now that Echo got a good look, but there were other things on his mind.

   “I’m reading the latest report issued about Geonosis,” he defended.  “Apparently some Geonosian worm infected-”

   “Brother, no.”

   “But-”

   “No, no.”  Fives shook his head again, reaching over to snatch the datapad from his best friend’s hand.  “You need to take some time and enjoy the sights.  There will be plenty of time to catch up on the latest reports on our way back.”

   “I suppose,” he conceded, still not completely convinced.

   “Like here,” Fives put an arm around his shoulder, drawing him closer to a cart where street food was being sold.  “Do you think we could enjoy such things on the cruiser?”

   Echo stared at the breaded aquatic creature on a stick, his empty stomach rumbling.  He remembered that he hadn’t eaten yet that evening. “That is an excellent point.”

   “I’m starving.  Let’s try something, eh?”

   Echo nodded, and he and Fives took their place in line.  Fives was looking at the menu posted on the front of the rickety old cart, and Echo took the time to observe his surroundings again.  There were some things he hadn’t noticed before- like how if he listened closely enough, he could hear a lively tune playing over the chatter of citizens.  It was a diverse crowd with droids and people.  His casual scan was halted when he spotted a beautiful pair of eyes.

   They only caught his gaze for a moment as she walked by, but Echo found himself following the form that they belonged to.  She was absolutely lovely, he admitted to himself in the privacy of his own mind.  Sure, in his travels he had seen a few that he found attractive, but none that had this effect on him.  It felt like his insides were coming apart, and he wondered if he should approach her.  What would he even say?

   A shadow moved along the wall of the buildings behind the woman.  The shadow moved steadily, and Echo quickly realized that it was following the owner of those eyes he so admired, who seemed oblivious to the situation.

   His jaw tightened as he tracked the figure, fists clenched.  He quickly made his way through the crowded sidewalk until he neared the shadow’s target.

- - - - 

   You had noticed the individual dressed in a trench coat with the collar turned up walking at a steady pace behind you.  He was distant, but close enough to raise alarm in your mind.  He had followed you down every turn.  Perhaps you were being paranoid, but perhaps not.  Not wanting to take any chances, you considered a few ideas to lose the guy.  As you passed a group of street vendors, you took note of a few troopers in uniform.  By the looks of it, they were ARC troopers.  One happened to look over at you and made eye contact briefly.  Maybe he saw the situation you were in because he kept staring even after you had broken the mutual gaze.  You decided to go a little farther and then circling around to approach the troopers.  If this individual was really following you, hopefully they’d get the idea and leave if you were in the company of soldiers.

   A line of citizens cut in front of you, and someone had shoved you off to the side.  

   “Ouch,” you complained, though you realized the incident was the least of your problems.  The two troopers in your line of sight were nowhere to be found, and the figure behind was gaining on you.

   Suddenly, a gloved hand just barely rested on your elbow, prompting you to move forward.  “Keep walking.”

   You glanced up to see the ARC trooper you’d made eye contact with before.  He had kept the standard trooper haircut and had no visible tattoos or scars on his face, only a handprint painted on his armor to distinguish him from others.

   “I don’t mean to alarm you,” he spoke in a low voice, “but there’s someone following you.”

   “I know,” you replied.  “I haven’t been able to shake him.  I was actually heading back around to find you and the other ARC trooper, hoping you’d scare him off.”  You pretended to be familiar with the trooper, slipping your arm around his waist and smiling.  

   “Well, you found me.”  He steered you back out of the crowd toward the nearest building.  The individual in the trench coat had slowed down at this point, and you saw a pair of eyes reflecting light in your direction.  The trooper put his arm around you, drawing you closer to his armored chest, and he blatantly stared down the stranger until they flinched and hurried away.

   You exhaled in relief.  “Thank you.”

   “It’s no trouble, really.”  He caught your gaze again, looking at you with those warm brown eyes of his.  He was handsome, no doubt, and the chivalry he displayed just now made him even more handsome in your eyes.  “Are you okay?”

   “A little spooked,” you admitted.  “But I’m fine, thanks to you.  My ship isn’t too far from here.  I think I’ll be alright.”

   He lifted a brow.  “You sure?  I can walk you back.”

   “No, don’t worry about it.  I don’t think he’ll want to follow me to where I’m headed.  Trust me.”

   “Okay.”  He gazed at you a little longer.  “What’s your name?”

   “Oh, I’m ________.”  You held out your hand.

   He shook it.  “I go by Echo.” 

   “Echo?”

   “It’s a long story.”  A look of embarrassment crossed his features.  “I used to reiterate orders in the training simulations, and my teammates would call me ‘Echo’ out of annoyance.”

   “Really?  That’s an interesting way to get a name.  I like it.”

   A mutual silence settled between you two.  Echo stole a glance at a nearby vendor and gestured toward it with a gloved hand.  “Hungry?”

   “Yeah, I could eat,” you decided.  Whatever it was that they were selling at the cart was foreign to you, but looked and smelled good.  Fortunately, the line was short.  You and Echo only had to wait a few minutes before stepping up to place the order.  You fished out your wallet, but Echo gently tapped your hand.

   “Allow me.”

   “But you just rescued me.  I couldn’t ask you to pay.”

   “You’re not asking.  I’m insisting,” he said with a smile.  He handed a few credits to the vendor and accepted the food, motioning for you to follow him away from the cart so the next person could order.  You took a bite of your portion and smiled.

   “This is really good!  Thank you.”

   “Don’t mention it.”  He bit into his serving as well.  “Wow, that is good.”  As the two of you finished your snack, Echo inquired to know more about you.  “So, what do you do for a living?”

   “I’m a mechanic.”

   “Yeah?  What kind?”

   “A good one,” you replied with a cheeky look.

   “I suppose I walked right into that one, but seriously, what sort of things do you work on?”

   “Mostly ships.  I like making a difference, getting to travel, and meeting new people.”  You gave his armored shoulder a playful nudge.

   “Sounds like you’re doing what you love.”

   “You could say that.”

   Another mutual silence ensued, but it made neither of you uncomfortable.  For just a few more minutes, you enjoyed the other’s company and the newfound friendship.  The moment was interrupted when the other ARC trooper you’d seen standing next to Echo before approached.

   “There you are, Echo!” he exclaimed.  “I waited in line, but by the time it was my turn, you were gone.”

   “Sorry,” Echo looked bashful.  “Fives, this is _________.  We ran into each other and got talking.  _________, this is Fives.”

   “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fives.”

   “Right back at you.”

   You glanced at the chrono on your wrist.  “Oh, I need to get back to my ship.”  In a moment of bravery, you leaned in to press a kiss to the side of Echo’s face, though with you having to lean around his ARC trooper armor, it ended up closer to his jaw than cheek.  “Thank you, Echo, for looking out for me.”

   His eyes widened in surprise, and for a few seconds he struggled to come up with a reply.  Finally, he just uttered, “anytime.”

   You smiled.  Echo was strong and brave, and yet so sweet and, well, darling.  With a farewell to him and Fives, you headed back to the ship that you were expected at in only a few minutes for the start of your shift.

   “Wait,” Echo hurried after you.  “Can I comm you?”

   You felt warmth in your face.  “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around.”

   And then you turned and left.

   - - - -

   “So what’s all this, huh?”  Fives gave Echo a playful punch to the shoulder plate.  “I turn around for two seconds, and I find you with a girl.  An actual girl.”

   “She needed help- that’s all.  Someone was following her, and I couldn’t let anything bad happen.”

   Fives narrowed his eyes slowly.  “Ohhh, I see how it is... You like her.”

   “What?  How did you gather that from me helping a random citizen?”

   “Can’t say I blame you.  She’s cute, that’s for sure.”

   “Come on,” Echo rolled his eyes.  “Are you even listening to me?”

   “I’m listening, and all I’m hearing is that you totally have a thing for _______.”

   Echo cleared his throat, hoping he’d drop the topic because even though Echo tried to deny it, Fives was spot-on with his analysis.  It comes with the territory of spending your whole life with your teammate.  They know you pretty well.  “Either way, I doubt I’ll ever see her again.  We ship back out tomorrow anyway.”

   Fives patted his back.  “You never know, brother, you never know...”

   The entire evening out, Echo tried very hard to enjoy himself.  He caught himself searching the crowd for that face again everywhere he and Fives went.  Fives even suggested they circle back to where he met her again, just in case she came back looking for him too.  She was nowhere to be found.  When both troopers had enough exploring, the two headed back to the Republic ship.

   After getting through security, they went toward the trooper quarters.  They chatted idly about the interesting things they saw in the city and the foods they tried.  

   Echo was nearly floored when he caught a glimpse of that familiar pair of eyes.

   She was wearing a jumpsuit typical of mechanics in the GAR, and she was talking to a coworker, most likely an electrician, in the hall while he worked on a light fixture.  She looked up and met Echo’s gaze, and she smiled brightly at him.  Without thinking, Echo walked right up to her.

   “Wait, you work here?  On this ship?” he asked.

   She stifled a chuckle.  “Yeah, you didn’t know?”

   “I’ve seen mechanics around all the time in the hangar.”  He raised his brows incredulously.  “I would’ve definitely remembered you.”

   “That was actually pretty smooth,” Fives muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Echo to hear.

   “I’m new,” ________ admitted.  “Well, new to this ship.  I used to work with the 212th, but seeing as General Skywalker is the one with the highest destroyed vehicle count, they transferred some of us over.”

   Fives burst out laughing.  “That sounds like the General.”

   “Well then, I’m glad to be seeing more of you, _________,” Echo said.  “I’ll let you get back to work.”

   “Alright,” she nodded.

   “Alright,” he echoed, gazing back.  This time, the silence that followed was rather awkward as he didn’t budge or break the stare.

   Fives’ eyes shifted between the two before he broke the awkward silence.  “Uh, it was nice to see you again, _________.  We’ll be heading out now.  Have a good night!”  He grabbed Echo by the shoulders and gently pushed him in the other direction.  Echo regained his senses and kept walking, occasionally sneaking a glance over his shoulder.

   “We’ve got to work on your flirting skills,” Fives groaned.  “That last bit was just painful to watch.”

   “I’ll be seeing her,” Echo said with a smile on his face.  “I guess that means I’ll have plenty of practice.”

[lluvguts]

just pretend for now // reddie

(mostly posting my ao3 fics here for now // i’ll take requests too!)

pairing: eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier 

genre/warnings: none! fluff

word count: 2,037

summary: a loser’s club wedding...but kids!

“Let’s just skip it.”

“Our own wedding, Rich?”

“We already got married, Eds,” Richie murmured as he turned over in the sheets to reach for Eddie in the mid morning light. He was well aware of the plans that had to be set into motion, as well as the many things they must actually be present for―like getting married, for one―but all Richie felt like doing was spending the rest of their Friday afternoon in the hotel bed. Well, Eddie had brought separate bed sheets for the hotel bed, but still the same idea in spirit.

Eddie pulled Richie closer and rested a hand in his tousled hair. Though he did not fully bring him to his chest―the wound had healed months ago, but Eddie was still extremely careful. It made Richie wonder what their wedding night was going to look like if Eddie wouldn’t touch him. Not like it made much of a difference considering all the other times…

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but we can’t just not go to our rehearsal dinner,” He stated, craning over Richie to stare at the clock displayed on the hotel nightstand with a groan.

Richie tilted his head up to stare at Eddie―or the foggy shape he assumed was his soon-to-be husband, having forgotten to put on his glasses.

“You don’t remember when we got married as kids?”

“I don’t think that a children’s cereal box ring counts towards marriage.”

“Oh, please. It wasn’t a cereal box prize…It was a Ring Pop,” Richie said with dignity.

“You’re gonna have to tell me the story of our so-called wedding, since there’s clearly some pieces I’m missing.”

Richie flourished a hand, in an old British clip. “With pleasure, Mr. Tozier.”

“Tozier-Kaspbrak,” Eddie corrected him.

“Nuance. Anyway, I’m pretty sure it was one hot ass summer when we were all sitting in Bill’s backyard, eating candy…”  

The Denbrough’s yard was stifling that summer in Maine, and all of the Losers crowded under the aged umbrella from their outdoor patio furniture to stay cool in the grass. Mike and Stanley were huddled close, admiring a bluejay that had perched on the fence, while Ben passed around a plastic bag of assorted candies from Costello’s Market―one that his mother had purchased for him the morning of―and tried not to sneak a glance at Beverley’s smile, or the way the sun made her hair glow like an open fire.

“It’s so fuckin’ hot,” Richie whined, popping a cherry Ring Pop into his mouth.

Ben shifted uncomfortably on his place in the dead grass. “You shouldn’t say that word Richie!”

“Oh hush, Haystack. I can say whatever I’d like,” He replied coolly and fell onto his back to stare at the cloudless sky.

“There’s nothing to do out here,” Eddie said in a soft voice, still awed by Richie’s crude remark. The brown-haired boy had some color on his cheeks, but not from the heat. He was startled, and maybe a little captivated by how confident Richie was, and Eddie wondered if some of that confidence could work on him the next time Belch Huggins shoved him off the playground equipment at school.

Bill fished inside the shopping bag for a candy bar that wasn’t already melted. “W-We have some board games i-i-inside.”

“Let’s go to the library,” Mike murmured. “There’s a new issue of Superman out and if we don’t act now all the other kids'll take them all.”

Stanley leaned in toward Mike’s neck and used the binoculars he was wearing, pointing at the bird. “No, let’s go back to my house for my sketchbook so I can draw her. Look, she’s so pretty.”

The three argued about what to do when Richie pondered over his candy, then said thoughtfully, “We could get married.”

Eddie looked away, knowing full well that Richie’s finger poking into his side meant that he was talking to him.

“W-What?” Bill spoke above Stanley and Mike’s chatter. Ben was too busy sorting the candy to pay much attention.

Richie shrugged, wiping sweaty hair out of his face. “We’ve got the rings, right Eds?”

Eddie crossed his arms, scowling at the Ring Pop on his own finger and spoke to the ground.

“Don’t call me Eds. You know it’s not my name.”

“It’s just pretend…unless you’re too chicken to do it,” Richie challenged.

Beverly glanced between the both of them, her eyes finally landing on Richie as a wicked grin lit her face.

“I’ll be the lucky lady, if my daddy doesn’t find out,” She giggled.

Richie sat up, wiping the grass from his shirt. “I was talking about Eddie Spaghetti, Bev. But you can be my best man.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Stan said.

“Fine! I’ll marry Beverly, then Eds. Okay?”

Stan pulled his binoculars down. “You’re still not getting the point.”

“Oh, whatever. We’ve got a wedding to do,” Richie stood alongside Bev and held out his hand.

Eddie blinked at him for a speechless moment but took his hand warily.

“This is a bad idea,” He mumbled with a red face as the three sautnered over to the Denbrough’s rusting trellis, its vines once lively now hung dead across the scorching metal.

“Bill! Will you come marry us?” Beverly shouted across the lawn, even though the boys were only a few feet away.

“S-Sure Bevvie,” The boy immediately stood and went to her.

“Got yours, Bev?” Richie held up his candy ring, as well as the one on Eddie’s hand, still clasped in his own.

“Let go of my hand!” Eddie flung his arm back, nursing the Ring Pop in hopes that neither could see his expression. It was the only comfort he had, that sweet taste of blue dye, he’d left his inhaler at home.

Beverly showed them her ring, fresh from the package and shining a neon green on her pale finger.

Bill clapped his hands together, nervously looking to Bev. “Alright, uh, R-Richie go stand by Eh-Eh-Eddie, I’ll marry Bev and you f-first.”

Richie grabbed Beverly’s hands and grinned sheepishly at the young girl. The other three watched from the shade of the umbrella, a mix of amusement and anxiety filtering across their faces. Luckily Bill’s parents were not home to see the ceremony, but the Losers knew neither mother nor father would take much interest in their antics.

“Do y-you Beverly Marsh tu-tu-take Richie T-Tozier to be your, uh, husband?”

“It’s ‘lawfully wedded husband,’ Bill!” Mike commented, while Stan slapped his shoulder.

Richie winked at Bev, which made her laugh harder. “I do.”

Bill nodded in agreement. “Okay, D-Do you, Richie Tozier t-take her to be your,” He turned to Mike, remembering the phrase, “Lawfully wedded wife?”

“Sure do, Big Bill. Now, how bout a good one, right here, Bevvie?” Richie clicked his tongue and tapped a cheek with his finger.

Bev blushed and leaned forward to peck his cheek. Eddie closed his eyes, trying not to picture Richie’s lips on his face. She pulled back, smiling and waving around her ringed finger in the hot air. Richie did the same.

“Eddie, your t-t-turn.”

Beverly gave Richie’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze before dashing off to hide under the umbrella. Eddie ran his tongue across the dry roof of his mouth and stepped forward, accepting the boy’s sweaty hands.

He hardly understood Bill’s words, not because of the stutter but more so because of the way Richie cleared his throat, and the firm grip he had on his hands, as if it were an actual ceremony and not something thrown together in a small town backyard.

Richie was busy staring at Eddie and stammered out an ‘I do’ just in time for him to whisper the same.

Bill bristled at the next line, his eyes flickering to Richie, who nodded his approval and said, “You m-may, uh, kiss each other?”

“On the cheek!” Eddie squealed, but Richie used their locked hands to propel him forward, smacking their lips together with an unceremonious crash of saliva. Richie’s mouth moved quickly across his, with neither having the slightest idea what they were doing or what it meant, but were drawn further into the kiss by the sugary taste left from their Ring Pops.

Richie’s glasses drove up against Eddie’s face in the seconds that their kiss lasted, and when he moved away Eddie let a small smile break through his resolve at Richie’s crooked glasses and wet curls of messy black hair. Eddie wouldn’t realize it until much later in the day but that hot summer afternoon, and Richie’s cherry flavored kiss was a brisk line in the sand on his feelings, and the memory of it would linger in his mind every time the dark-haired boy passed by. He kissed me, he kissed me, his mind would scream with gleeful abandon. Now go tell him you like him.

“See? Just pretend,” Richie released Eddie’s hands and stuck the Ring Pop into his mouth, biting it clean off the plastic ring. He stuck his tongue out, it was still red from the artificial flavoring and Eddie could almost feel that cherry candy in his own mouth. He shuddered at the thought and hurried away from the other boy, terrified and amazed at him.

The patio door slid on its hinges, and a small mousy haired boy stepped out―George, Bill’s little brother.

“What's going on? Who got candy without me?” The boy commanded, looking hurt by the other’s failure to include him.

Bill rushed to his side, holding out what was left of his chocolate. “S-Sorry Georgie. We were just gonna ask i-i-if you wanted some.”

“Uh huh.” Georgie snatched the candy bar, then sought out the plastic bag that promised more treats.

“So what’re you gonna do now Richie, with your new husband and wife?” Mike asked. Stan was bent over his travel-sized birth encyclopedia, so lost in thought the boy was getting smudges of milk chocolate on the pages.

Once Richie went back to the umbrella he slung an arm around Beverly and Eddie’s shoulders and looked up at the sun with a weary grin.

“Take a nap.”

“See Eds? Married,” Richie sighed happily as he concluded his story.

“Rich, there’s no way that you kissed me in front of everyone at ten years old.”

“Would you like me to call Bev for clarification?” Richie said, lovingly resting his head against Eddie’s waist, smiling where the other man could not see―because for a minute Eddie did not flinch away.

Eddie eased Richie’s head away from him and slid off the bed, throwing open his luggage.

“I’d like for you to take back the past twenty minutes, because now we’re going to be late. Ask her tonight at our actual wedding rehearsal.”

Richie rolled over Eddie’s side of the bed and found his phone and glasses while trying to tug off the shirt he’d slept in. “Yeah, Bev? Remember that one time at Bill’s house when we got married?”  

“You’re calling her, Rich?” Eddie disappeared into the bathroom so he didn’t have to witness the reason they were going to inevitably be late for dinner.

Richie stopped and listened, slipping into a pair of dress pants. He rolled his eyes and threw the phone onto the rumpled sheets with a childish whine.

“What did she say?” Eddie asked smugly, poking his head out of the door.

“She said, and I quote, ‘If you don’t show up in the next five minutes I am telling your parents you decided to elope at age forty.’”

Eddie grinned and straightened his shirt collar, exiting the bathroom to kiss Richie’s smooth cheek. At least he’d done one thing: shave.

He took Richie’s arm and they headed out the hotel door. “Let’s go then, Mr. Tozier.”

“That’s Tozier-Kaspbrak, according to you,” Richie grumbled.

“I said I was fine with Tozier.”

“Are you ‘fine’ with it? Just fine? ‘Fine’ is like, ‘I’m fine with my shitty low-end job.’ That sort of fine?”

“How about, ‘I’m more than fine with it for the rest of my life?’”

Richie chuckled. “Sounds good to me, Mr. Tozier. The wedding planner’s gonna give us hell, though.”

“We’ve been through worse.”

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 03.

[4:15 p.m.] Disappointment tweaks at Seungwan’s heart when she peers through the huge glass window of their study cafe and sees no Bae Joohyun. 

. . . . .

A group of students are huddled in the back, bent over open textbooks, laptops and scattered stationary. 

Yerimie, Saeron, Seul, wow, there’s Jennie sunbaenim. And she spies Sooyoung sunbaenim balancing a tray of various caffeine-injected drinks back to the table.

A sad sigh escapes her lips. Perhaps she’s l–

“Seungwan?” 

Oh my g– what the–?! Seungwan screams, whipping around in shock at the fingers gently resting on the back of her shoulder. She’s met with a slightly surprised Joohyun, standing there wearing a cream Jute blouse tucked into denim jeans, twinkling eyes and endless amusement etched into rosebud lips. 

“S-Sunbae!” She exclaims, grasping her chest to calm her rapid-fire heart. “Y-You’re here, I was just–”

What, peering through the glass, looking for you like a creep? 

“It’s fine,” Joohyun chuckles, adjusting her hold on the stack of thick notebooks cradled in her arm and motioning for the younger girl to lead the way. “Let’s go. This is heavy.”

Thursdays might’ve found an unexpected favour with Son Seungwan.

Busy eyes move from annotating to the two girls urgently making their way over, the students lifting their heads at Seungwan’s warm greeting. 

“Sorry we’re late,” she sincerely apologises. 

Jennie knowingly eyes her friend. “Not surprised.” 

Joohyun raises her a playfully challenging brow before slipping into the free seat next to Sooyoung at the end of the table, right across her partner.

“You ordering anything, Wan?” Seulgi asks between highlighting her page, offering her and Joohyun biscuits in individually wrapped aluminium packets.

Joohyun takes one and Seungwan nibbles on the edge of her biscuit, deep in thought. The group soon slips into the robotic rhythm of monochromatic scribbling, greyscale note-taking, typing, and intermittent snacking. Jennie slips away to order small desserts for everyone at the table. They thank her with shocked bows and hungry stares, unable to settle on one in the garland of appetising coloured treats on the tiny table.

“Sunbae, you’re like Santa Claus,” Seulgi happily attacks the New York baked cheesecake. “When did you order this? It’s like we were asleep and we just woke up to presents!”

Her bearish enthusiasm has an observant Sooyoung unconsciously smiling around her fork.

As the group tucks in, Seungwan thinks a group study date is the safest she can be in terms of being on the receiving end of any more of her senior’s teasing mannerisms.

Fortunately, Joohyun always surprises her.

A little later on, they’re discussing the historical impact of contemporary Korean literature. Right in the middle of a sentence, Seungwan’s concentration is shattered by a deep blush of raspberry when she feels a feather-light graze against her right Adidas sweatpant leg. She chokes, almond eyes shooting up from messy essay notes, silently begging for mercy. But of course, Joohyun’s serene, unbothered expression gives nothing away as she continues to ask for her opinion as though Seungwan is crazy for looking like a flustered mess. 

The frazzled junior doesn’t know what makes her head spin more; the fact that Joohyun, composed as ever, initiated a game of footsie right under both their friends’ noses in public… or that she secretly enjoys it.

Not that she’ll ever admit to the latter.

Small fists corkscrew the sleeves of her sky-blue Chrome Hearts hoodie as the desperation to hide the cherry-blossom tint in her cheeks builds.

. . . . .

It’s past midnight by the time they’re done, and everyone bids goodbye with ‘Z’s coming out of their ears. Much to everyone’s surprise, Sooyoung and Seulgi got along pretty well this evening and the taller girl had hastily agreed when Seulgi suggested they visit her favourite boba place. Yerim and Saeron were late for their movie, and Jennie was spending the weekend at her girlfriends’.

“Wait, are we dumb? Why did we book this now,” Saeron asks incredulously, “aren’t you gonna get wrecked by grumpy ajumma? Curfew ended like ten minutes ago.”

“Ah who cares, she’s always like that,” Yerim retorts with a dismissive wave. “I could fill a prison wall with how many strikes she’s given me and Seungwan and Seulgi unnie.” She slings an arm over Saeron’s shoulder, urging them to hurry. “C’mon, ads don’t take forever.”

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi calls back as she’s being dragged away by an eager Sooyoung, “if you order pizza can you leave some out for me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy. Don’t wake me up.”

“Hyun-ah, you sure you’re not coming?” Jennie’s sleek midnight-black Vetements cardigan blends with the hues of the night sky, giving away how late it is. She swipes into her messages. “Chaeng said she doesn’t mind.” 

Joohyun laughs with mock disgust. “Thanks Jen, but I’m not crashing your date-nights anymore, thank you very much. I saw enough the last time, my eyes can’t take that kind of stuff.”

Waving goodbye, Jennie and Chaeyoung speed off, leaving Seungwan wondering what ‘kind of stuff’ Joohyun could be referring to.

The pair are drawn to the horribly lit bus stop and just about the only source of light for miles. 

Seungwan yawns silently, but she doesn’t mind waiting with Joohyun. It’s late and although her apartment is in the opposite direction, she’d be at ease knowing her friend got home safely.

The darkness is engulfing, allowing an overhead street lamp to bathe them in its flicking spotlight like stars in a West End Production. 

“We were pretty productive today, sunbae,” the younger tries to make conversation to fill the space between them. “Do you wanna come for next week’s session too?”

“Sure,” comes the reply. “Thanks for waiting with me. When’s your ride getting here? We should’ve booked at the same time.”

Seungwan nervously scratches the back of her neck, crinkling her worksheets in her grip. “Uh, I’m just walking home tonight actually.”

“Oh? Do you live closeby?” she asks in surprise, assuming they were both waiting for taxis.

“Ah, yes, I’m just– it’s just down there.”

Joohyun narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Down there… where.”

“Just a quick walk, past… past the duck pond,” the girl mumbles, staring down at her shoes.

“Q-Quick? Quick?” Joohyun stutters, malfunctioning at their severely clashing definitions of ‘close’. A delicate fist draws back and Seungwan flinches, Bae Joohyun looking closer and closer to doing what she did to Lucas to her poor, startled junior. “The duck pond near uni? Yah, Son Seungwan, that’s almost a twenty minute walk from here.” 

“Fifteen if I have my speed walking playlist on,” Seungwan tries, but she isn’t listening.

“A lot of dangerous things can happen in twenty minutes, you know.” She hurriedly unlocks her phone and clicks into the KakaoTaxi app, altering the destination to add a stop and shoving it into reluctant hands. “Hurry, put your address in.” 

Seungwan so badly wants to politely decline, not confident in her ability to sit in a moving vehicle with such a pretty person without hurling herself out the window at top speeds. But the latter’s glare dares her to try.

With shaky fingers, she successfully types in her address after three tries and hands it back. Joohyun checks it and confirms the change. Seungwan wants to comment on how her frantic nature is actually really endearing, but she resists, thinking she’s still cooling off from it.

“Thank you, sunbae,” she bows instead. She even tries to insist she pay her share of the ride, but Joohyun refuses, saying it’s what she gets for thinking it was a good idea to walk home alone.

Finally, a black Sedan pulls up to the curb and the driver winds down his window. “KakaoBlack for Bae Joohyun?” He checks, looking as ready as both girls are to go home and crash for the night. 

The girl nods, opening the door for Seungwan to get into the backseat and climbing in after her.

Grand streaks of neon dance across the car windows, falling behind as quickly as they appear. Seungwan tears her gaze from the rapid city lights when she hears her name. 

An almost child-like excitement masks Joohyun’s usually steely features when Seungwan hums questioningly, not having heard what she’d said. “I said unnie,” she repeats, “you should call me unnie now that we’re closer. Honestly, I wanted to correct you this evening, but I never got the chance to. Aish, everyone was so noisy.”

The topic of noise has Joohyun distracted, suddenly popping off on a tangent about how sound-proof couple study rooms should be integrated in cafes and student-dense areas alike. But Seungwan finds it hard to focus on anything other than those glowing eyes and that tiny, lopsided smile.

For the rest of the journey, the two exchange stories of their university life experiences, life outside classrooms and even a few laughs; mostly on Joohyun’s part at how Seungwan seems to have the most prankish roommates slash best friends in the world. She loses it at ‘carbonara shampoo’, finding the idea wickedly genius and hilariously absurd altogether. Uncontrollable cackling booms in the backseat and Seungwan can’t help but giggle too, ears saturated with Joohyun’s chimerical laughter.

Eventually, the street lights and the houses start looking familiar and they’re pulled into a student apartment lobby before either of them knows where the time went. Joohyun can see the grumpy ajumma at reception wearing a frown, but she doesn't know it’s because someone’s gone over curfew. Again.

“Goodnight Seungwan.”

“Goodnight… unnie.” Seungwan wishes, ignoring the way their new closeness unfolds her heart like a secretly passed note. “Stay safe, and message me when you get back!”

Making to get out of the car, she flinches when she’s unable to fully stand up. Gulping, she glances over her shoulder to see Joohyun holding her back by her bag straps. In her sleepy state, the younger can’t tell if that intently searching gaze is serious or not.

“By the way, when you were looking into the cafe from outside this evening, you weren’t checking Jennie or Sooyoung out, were you?”

Seungwan shakes her head truthfully. “Why?”

“Good.” A cat-like smirk graces her lips and Seungwan’s stomach drops. “Just making sure.”

. . . . .

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Welcome to Oblivion-Ch. 25

Chapter 25

           I sat on the floor, back propped against the sofa, books and laptop spread out on the coffee table at the apartment. Seth sat across from me with his own books, his head resting on his hands. Roman was stretched out on the sofa behind me, his fingers stroking idly against my shoulder as he thumbed through his sociology notes.

           “There is no fucking way I’m going to pass this test,” Seth lamented, practically bouncing his head against the table. “I will gladly take my cal physics exam a hundred times if I don’t have to take this one.”

           “Stop bitching,” I said with a smile. “You’re making it harder than it really is. Now, tell me the four categories of international relationships.”

           Seth reached for his textbook, but I swatted his hand away before he could grab it. I glared, lifting a brow. He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He groaned. “Pure antagonistic, pure cooperative, moderated cooperative, and…”

           He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, thinking hard. I knew that he knew the answer, but Seth had no self-confidence when it came to this class. I had no idea why, and I’d made it my personal mission to ensure that he worked his ass off and passed the class.

           “Fuck,” he groaned. “I don’t remember.”

           “Intermediary affected antagonistic,” Roman said lazily from the sofa.

           I turned around, surprised that he had any idea of the answer. “How the hell?”

           He grinned at me, his dark eyes going playful. “Corbin took the class last year. He talked to himself during workouts to study. We were weight partners, so I basically learned everything he did.”

           “He still got his notes? Tests?” Seth said hopefully.

           Roman opened his mouth to answer, but snapped his jaw shut when he saw the look on my face. He cleared his throat and went back to his own studying. “Don’t think so. Corbin’s not the type to hang on to shit like that.”

           Across the table, Seth deflated. I gave him a sympathetic look. “Hey, you pass this test Rollins, and coffee’s on me for a week. You get an A, and I’ll buy it for a month.”

           He turned those brown eyes on me. “Are you bribing me with caffeine, Addy?”

           Grinning, I nodded.

           “Challenge accepted.”

***

           Dean opened the door almost as soon as Seth thumped his foot against it. He couldn’t open the door on his own, mostly because he held a Frappuccino in one hand and was using the other to keep me steady on his back. I’d jumped on his back as soon as we got back to the apartment, having found a hole in my shoe that let snow seep in onto my socks.

           “What the fuck?” Dean asked, standing to the side as Seth ducked in the door and squatted so I could slide off his back.

           I held up my foot, showing him the huge gap where my neon socks were visible. “Jesus shoe.” When Dean looked at me like I was insane, I laughed. “It’s holey, get it? Holy?”

           He rolled his eyes and threw his arm around my neck, drawing me close against him. I smiled and tilted my face up, meeting his lips with my own. Warmth spread through me. It was the feeling I always got with Dean. It was the sense of a perfect early summer night.

           “What am I going to do with you?” he asked with a smile.

           I kicked off my shoes and tugged him toward the kitchen. “Make me one of those sandwiches of yours. We’re celebrating.”

           Dean popped open the fridge, rummaging around. “Hmm? What are we celebrating?”

           Seth swept into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter, half finished frappe in his hand. He grinned. “Addy’s contribution to my caffeine addiction,” he said playfully. He held his cup out toward me in a salute. “Because of her, I got a ninety-three on my international politics test.”

           I grinned and tapped my cup against his. I leaned against the sink, feeling incredibly proud. “You put in the work,” I said firmly. “I just kicked you in the ass to get you started.”

           A gust of cold air swept in as Roman threw open the door. There was snow in his dark hair as he kicked off his shoes and threw his bag on the floor. When he saw me in the kitchen, his face lit up. “Hey, baby girl,” he boomed, crossing the room in a few strides and picked me up in a warm, steady hug. He kissed me soundly, smiling. “What are you doing here?”

           “Celebrating,” I replied, dusting the snow from his hair and his beard. “We both got A’s on our politics test.”

           Roman looked at Seth, who nodded and grinned. “No shit!” He crossed over and gave Seth one of those guy hugs. The ones that start as an odd high-five and end in that one-armed slap on the shoulder. “Congrats, uce.”

           Seth gestured toward me with his cup. “It’s Addy. Wouldn’t have passed without her.”

           The look Roman gave me made my heart light up with love. He smiled and it made his dark eyes sparkle and shine. A moment later, he pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me, hands clasped at the base of my spine. I snuggled against his bulk, tucking my arms between us. When he spoke, his voice vibrated through me.

           “Yeah, Addy’s amazing.” His lips settled against my hair. “That’s why she’s la’u Fetu e Tasi.”

           I closed my eyes and tucked my head beneath his chin. He was warm and smelled like outdoors and mint.

           “Alright, out of my kitchen,” Dean ordered abruptly. “I can’t make breakfast sandwiches for dinner if you three are in the way.”

***

           Dean pulled right to the door of Felton Hall. He’d borrowed Roman’s truck to get me back to campus. Apparently, while he was comfortable driving his Charger in the snow, he didn’t like to do it. The salt fucked up the paint he said.

           The inside of the truck was warm and cozy. For some reason, I had the sudden thought that it smelled like fresh bread. One of Dean’s breakfast sandwiches was wrapped up in aluminum foil and tucked into the pocket of my hoodie. He’d made an extra for me to bring back home as a snack.

           “Hey,” I said quietly, tucking my hair behind my ears. My heart thumped in my chest. I had thoughts and words swirling around in my head, but I couldn’t figure out how to get them out. “Can I ask you a question?”

           He turned in the driver’s seat and looked at me with those denim eyes of his. His gentle fingers brushed against my cheek. “What’s up, princess?”

           I looked away, feeling my whole body start to overheat. I was embarrassed by the question… the request. What if they thought the worst? What if this ruined everything?

           “Are you okay?” he inquired, stroking his thumb along my jaw. He moved as close as he could. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Addy?”

           It was now or never. I couldn’t explain why, but it just felt easier to talk about this with Dean. My eyes squeezed shut, courage gathering in my chest. “Have you ever thought about you and me… and Ro? Together? At the same time?”

           Quiet, heavy and thick, settled in the enclosed cab. It felt like my heart was going to pound straight past my ribs. My stomach dropped. I felt sick, terrified of what might happen when he spoke.

           “Is it something you want?” he asked. Dean settled his hand on the side of my throat, thumb against my jaw, fingers in my hair at the nape of my neck.

           Tears burned my eyes. I wanted to sob, but I couldn’t make them come. Instead, all I could focus on was the gentleness in his touch and the soft understanding in his voice. His fingers steadied my pulse, the contact a promise that I wasn’t alone. That he was there. And that he loved me.

           “Yes,” I replied quietly. I could sense the hurt in my own voice. The fear and sadness. The ache at the possibility of losing either of them.

           His lips pressed against my forehead, lingering there as he cradled my head with his fingers. “Then the three of us need to talk about it together. If it’s something you want, we can figure it out.”

           My fingers twisted up in the front of his shirt. “You aren’t mad at me?”

           “Princess, there’s nothing wrong with what you want,” he said firmly. “I’d rather you tell us than be unhappy. And besides, why would I be mad at you? Anytime I get to see you naked and writhing is a good time.”

           I laughed, just enough that it broke the heaviness of the moment. “Even if it means seeing Ro naked, too?”

           Dean waved his hand in dismissal. “Wouldn’t be the first time. We all share a bathroom, remember?”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @vebner37 @lilred91 @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @maelleoute

[hunnyuwu]

Soulmates? || NCT Taeyong

Premise : Maybe, just maybe, Fate never wanted us to be.

Pairing : Taeyong x Reader

Genre : angst, fluffy in the beginning

WC : 1.4 K

Warnings : mostly angsty, mentions of alcohol, implied anxiety, confronting one’s inner demons, confusing af lol

Author’s note : hope y’all get where I went with this 👁👄👁 (had to go question what was going on in my brain)

⌫ ⌫ ⌫

“Taeyong.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Do you… do you ever think about what other people are going through? Like, what is happening to her right now?”

Taeyong shifted his head to look at a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties, hastily typing away at her phone screen with a little smile tugging the corners of her coral-tinted lips upward. He watched her for a little while, observing the way she giggled quietly to herself after receiving a text. After one more ping, the small, quiet smile deepened into a cute, gummy grin, promptly brushing her long bangs behind the shell of her ear with the tips of her fingers. He felt a soothing warmth wash over him as he continued to watch her little actions.

“Like, is she texting a boy she just met, knowing in her heart that he’s the one? Is she texting her best friend an extremely funny meme right now? Did she just find out that she passed the interview to get out of her shitty job as a lowly office lady, and she’s telling her husband about the big news? Or maybe, she just took a pregnancy test, and she’s texting her friend right now to discuss how she should reveal the results to her loving partner in life?”

You drawled out your inquiry as you too, observed the lady alongside Taeyong. You pulled lightly at the flimsy plastic piece connected to the end of your hoodie string, nibbling down at your chapped lips with curiosity. You felt your heart tug downward as you saw the woman’s lips draw further upward.

“I suppose so.” Taeyong answered softly, seemingly drawn towards her every movement as much as you were. You finally tore your eyes away from the subject of your deep, inner thoughts to peer at Taeyong’s side profile. And thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice for the time being.

You exhaled, tracing the smooth, but angular curves and lines of Taeyong’s ethereal face with your tired oculi. You have been blessed enough to see his face thousands of times in your bleak existence, but you never felt like it was enough to quench your undying thirst for the beauty that he truly was. Every time you allowed your orbs to grace his unearthly presence, the need to take a closer look had you reeling even further backwards than ever before.

Like all art museums politely ask of you,

You may look, but please refrain from engaging contact with the artwork.

And you were one to always follow their instructions.

“What do you think is happening to her right now, Yong?” The words slipped past your lips at the decibel of a ghost’s gentle kiss, surprising not only yourself, but your male companion as well. He redirected his head your way, a simple gesture that made your cheeks warm up with significant speed. You scooted back a little, only now realizing how close the two of you were at that moment.

Taeyong offered you a small smile, finding the situation pleasantly amusing, “Hmm, well. I personally think she’s texting a guy right now. He’s the sweet, funny guy that she has been looking for ever since she was a little girl. A guy that she will hopefully be able to bring to her parents after so many years of their endless nagging for the answer to the continuation of their family lineage.”

You nodded slowly, drawing your eyes down the length of your arm to your stretched hand that lay flat on the metal bench that you two occupied. Your head jerked harshly, ridding your mind of the thoughts that brewed upon noticing the millimeters of space that separated your fingertips from his.

“And what do you think is happening to her right now?” Taeyong countered, the softness of his voice soothing your heart like a nighttime lullaby.

“Hmm, what do I think?”

You lifted your chin, daring yourself to meet his eyes at a clean parallel. You swallowed the burning ache that rose within your throat as you maintained the intense eye contact, attempting to formulate your thoughts, which proved challenging.

“Well, I think that she found her soulmate.”

“Her soulmate?” Taeyong tilted his head cutely to the side, brows furrowing in thought. You bit down the smile that threatened to appear on your face.

“Yeah, whether the person be a potential lover, a withstanding friend, a familiar stranger, or even her everlasting enemy.”

“What do you mean?” Your companion naturally loosened his jaw, an action he did whenever he was deep-diving into the pool of thoughts that swirled within his brain.

“Exactly what I meant. No matter who that person is to her, they are a soulmate of some kind, I believe.”

Taeyong giggled, shaking his head, “You make absolutely no sense, but I guess in a weirdly twisted way, I think I get where you’re heading with this.”

“Glad you understand, my good sir.” You tilted your invisible top hat his way, enticing a fat eye roll from him.

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you.”

“And a flirt.”

Your grin faltered fractionally, “Yeah, I am what I am. What ya gonna do about it?”

You jabbed your elbow into his general direction playfully, playing it off like the champ you were.

“Speaking of soulmates, though.”

Your heart dropped down to the very depths of your gut, testing out the acidic pool of stomach acid with a cute, teasing nature. You urged him onward, nodding along to the little bubu pout that plumped up his otherwise sharp cheeks.

“Do you consider me your soulmate?”

The air you inhaled hitched at the back of your throat. You couldn’t decipher whether you just swallowed a chicken bone whole or got a sucker punch to the gullet, but it didn’t matter anyways, because you were losing brain cells every passing second you refrained from properly breathing.

You blinked innocently, your pulse quickening with an accelerated velocity.

‘Do you consider me your soulmate?’

These six words bounced within your mind like the DVD paused screen logo. Is there a correct answer to this?

Of course there is, Y/N. Everyone has a soulmate, even the likes of you.

“Hmm, I don’t personally believe in soulmates.”

“B-But didn’t you just-”

“The concept of soulmates implies that someone out there is meant to be the missing piece to the incomplete puzzle that you are. The mere idea that someone was fatefully paired for you… For my life, I want to decide my own fate.”

You pondered your gaze downward, allowing your heart to swell with love for the man beside you.

“Why should I let Fate have that decision, that satisfaction, when I currently feel so empty inside?”

~~~

You could tell him that his fiancé was constantly out drinking and partying with other men whenever he was with you.

You could tell him that his fiancé constantly talks about how annoying he was when he got clingy at nighttime.

Hell, you could tell him that his fiancé looks a second too long at your friend Jaehyun whenever your little gang hangs out.

So why didn’t you tell him everything?

Why didn’t you foil the quandary that sat on your lap like a neatly wrapped package, ready to be sent at a moment's notice?

Well, Fate has a twisted way of leading your judgement and actions.

We dictate our decisions... our choices.

But do you really, Y/N?

You didn’t know the answer to that question, honestly, but what you did know for sure was that Fate played a very cruel, sick game with you, enjoying the way you longed for something, someone, that was just never fated to be yours, no matter what decisions and actions you enacted upon.

Because Fate isn’t something you decide. Fate decides your path, and you were just a chess pawn in its sick game.

Taeyong wasn’t fated to be your lover... 

And now matter how many times you attempt to overcome the sickening game that Fate plays on you, you could never come out victorious. Fate wouldn’t allow you to.

You let the chilling void within you consume your soul as you watched Taeyong and his fiance snuggle on the couch at the party you were currently at. You felt like you could vomit at a moment’s notice, but there was nothing left to expel. You found your last moment’s comfort in the raging neon lights that lit the house in a crude rainbow distortion. You downed whatever liquid was in your red cup, allowing it to keep you company like an old, kind friend.

“Y/N?”

You looked up from your moral plight, allowing yourself to shed one last tear. You shook your head, your facial features contorting into the physical embodiment of eternal agony.

“Why?” You hissed, not bothering to say anything more.

Fate looked you dead in the eyes; its sweet, alluring smile not fooling you this time around.

But Fate doesn’t need to fool you, because you were only a foolish chess pawn fighting for freedom of choice, the freedom to create one’s own destiny.

“Would you like to test the simulation of Fate once again, Y/N?”

⌫ ⌫ ⌫

[willddheartt]

Babylon: Neon Lights | C.H. Chapter Nine: Best Friend

“she is both hellfire and holy water, the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her”

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between Calum and Cherry every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends, who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, leaving everyone astonished that something so perfect went so wrong.

DISCLAIMER: SOME PARTS MIGHT BE R RATED !!

Series warnings: Substances (alcohol & cigarettes), Anger (snappy comments), Smut

Series Masterlist

September 4th Labor Day weekend. Well not technically yet, but I didn’t have work for the last two days and Monday the store is closed. We all showed up at Michaels with coolers full of alcohol that would surely go home empty on Monday.  Where it was our first night and the weekend was still young the drinks were light but still enough to have most passed out by 12:00 PM. 

It was shocking how much the moonlight lit up Michael's kitchen as Calum and I sat on the floor, passing a spoon between the pair of us as we dug into a tub of chocolate ice cream.  “I’m not sure,” I shrugged, handing him the spoon, “I mean I know I don’t want to stay working the same job when I’m 40, but I feel stuck. I just don't know how I could get out, you know?” I asked, answering his question on if I was doing something I truly loved.  “It's easy to get out you know,” Calum said, “Sure it seems hard when you just think about it and before you do it. But once you’re actually out it's the best thing you’ll do,” He added   “What about you?” I asked, “Is this something you love doing?” He nodded, passing the spoon my way, “Sure it's crazy and being an online presence is stressful sometimes but I wouldn't trade it. The band is the best thing I ever did,” He spoke.  “How’s it feel knowing any of the fans would probably jump on the chance of being your friend? The legal ones,” I asked  “I think some of them just say that because they know a version of myself I want them to.” 

“Mmm, I have a good one,” Calum said holding his hand up as he talked, “Your passions, tell me about them.”  I shrugged, “I don't know, I don't like saying one thing is a passion or a hobby then having people expect me do those things,”  “Okay, then what do you do when you’re not with us, or when you’re alone?” Calum rephrased  “I make what some would like to call art, doodles and some poetry, but that is something I keep for myself, I don't ever share it. I like having my secrets, even from people close to me, its my way of staying myself. But I also take photos, sometimes if I need some extra cash, I’ll sell some prints or take photos for someone but that doesn't happen a lot. When money gets involved it feels more like a job than something I enjoy doing.” I explained, noticing how Calum’s dark brows knit together as he listened to what I was saying, nodding to indicate he got it all. “Your turn, what are your hobbies?” I asked turning his question on himself 

As Calum explained what he does in his free time, I realized neither of us knew that much about each other, and that we were just as deep as the other. There were different levels and layers. That of an onion or an ogre. 

Though I was paying attention and trying my hardest to keep my focus on his words, the dark abyss that was his eyes captivated me. In any lighting Calum's eyes looked almost blacker than any darkness night could come up with, but in the pale moonlight, you could faintly see the outline of his pupil in his iris. Naturally his eyes were beautiful, just like everything else about Calum, but tonight it was consuming, how beautiful his eyes were.

I fell so far into the dark pools that I almost missed his next question, “What was your high school experience like?”  I laughed at the question, “Really?” I asked.  Calum nodded, “I know you know mine, but I don’t know much about you in school and I want to,”  “Nobody knows about it, I don’t flaunt it. High school wasn’t an exciting experience for me and I’ve mostly left it behind. I changed everything about myself when I left, name, hair colour, everything. I was alone most of the time and spent way too much time thinking about leaving and getting out. Sleeping my teenage years away.”  “Now you have us, I think your high school self would be proud,” Calum smiled. I nodded, “I would be.” I chucked “Although, I’m still mad I never got to have the high school cliche of slow dancing with my boyfriend at a school dance,”  “You’ve never slow danced?” Calum asked, astounded  I nodded, “I didn’t go to dances.” 

Calum jumped up to his feet, holding his hand out to me, “I'm going to change that right now,” He said, pulling me up once I grabbed his hand.  “Now?” I asked, “But there no music,”  “There will be,” Calum said, pulling me into him as he started humming a slow song.  I wrapped my arms around his neck as he held my waist, humming close to my ear. Calum swayed us slowly from side to side as he slowly moved us in a circle. 

A few minutes later when Calum pulled back he smiled, “How was that?” He asked  “It was nice,” I smiled 

-

The entire weekend went by in a slow blur. I vaguely remembered things from the days, but few from the night. It was like a weekend long bender. I spent most days tipsy and smoking, Calum by my side doing the same. Violet left Sunday morning to spend the remainder of the weekend with Travis.  The 72 hours of drinking and laughs came to an end when Monday rolled around, leaving me bedridden with a terrible hangover. 

My skull felt like it was being gripped by the hands of a giant, one who was too friendly to crush it but who also wanted to cause temporary pain. When I stumbled into the apartment the first thing I did was draw the curtains shut before grabbing a bottle of water and debating the thought of taking more than the recommended amount of aspirin.  Sleeping most of Monday away. I didn’t even hear when Violet came home in the afternoon, or the countless messages that dinged on my phone with photos and videos from the weekend that was probably full of bad and stupid ideas. 

September 8th Thankfully, the hangover from hell only lasted a day and by  I had the afternoon, or closing, shift, leaving me folding up the clothes and cleaning up the store from the people in the morning. Something I didn’t mind in all honesty. 

As I hid away folding a pile of men's dress pants back in the dressing rooms, I kept my phone on me since the manager was never in for closing shifts.  Calum and I were talking my entire shift, laughing over the weekend, talking about what we were doing tonight and eventually coming up with pizza at his place after I got off. I smiled to myself, tucking my phone back in my pocket, knowing he didn’t have just pizza in mind. Since we had distinguished our friends with benefits type of relationship, I was over at his place almost every night but Wednesday and Friday. 

When I came into work at one, I was unable to cover the marks on my neck that were a memory of the weekend we just had, and everyone gave me hell for it. Thankfully the manager wasn’t in or I would have got it worse then I already did. Sure our friends knew about Calum and I but when Rylee from the shop saw the dark purple marks peeking up from the collar of my t-shirt and lost it, rapid firing multiple questions, much like Violet did but less personal towards the person who left them. 

Although my shift was only five hours it felt like nine. When I walked into Calum’s apartment, I dropped my purse at the door, kicking my shoes off and dramatically laid down on the couch.  “Long day?” He chuckled from the kitchen, as he brought the box of pizza and our drinks over to the table in the living room “You wouldn't even believe it,” I sighed, sitting up when Calum handed me a glass of soda. 

“You got a little something right, there.” He smirked, pointing to his neck  “Every cover up attempt I tried this morning failed so they stayed,” I laughed  “Boss say anything?”  I shook my head, “They’re normally not in for the afternoon shifts,”  “What I'm getting from that statement is, when you work in the afternoons and stay over we can spend more time cuddling.” Calum smirked  I laughed, “Sure, Cal,” 

The pizza box laid closed on the coffee table, having been finished long ago. Calum laid in between my legs as we watched t.v. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair. Everything about this was not your traditional FWB scenario, we did more than fuck, most times he greets me with a kiss either to my cheek or by pressing one to my lips, and most mornings we cuddle. It's more than a recurring night stand. 

Calum turned over so he was low looking at me, a small smile still tugging at the corners of his lips, one that didn't seem to leave tonight.  “Sup?” I asked softly  “Nothin,” He smiled, “You’re pretty though,”  “So are you,” I replied, bringing the hand that was running through his hair down to hold his chin, bringing him up so I could peck his lips. 

One kiss turned into another, and then another until we were making out on the couch. Calum sat back, pulling me to sit up with him as he pulled me onto his lap. My hands roamed over his body, from his shoulders down his chest, and under his shirt. Once I started tugging on the hem of his shirt and slowly pushing it up, Calum pulled away quickly to remove the article of clothing, quickly connecting our lips back and slipping his tongue in my mouth. 

One kiss, two kiss, red kiss, blue kiss, and my shirt had come off along with my jeans. His hands came down to the waistband of my underwear, he smiled into the kiss against my neck once he noticed the little bat print, looking up at me, “Batman?”  I nodded, with a sheepish smile as a slight blush crept up onto my cheeks, up until this point he had only seen my nice lacy panties.  “Cute,” Calum mumbled before capturing my lips again, slipping a hand past the waistband of my batman underwear, chuckling when an involuntary squeak of surprise slips past my lips when his fingers swiped at my heat.  “Love catching you off guard,” He teased as I tugged his bottom lip between my teeth  “Listen, I know you’re going for slow here but could you get on with it?” I breathed out.  “Is that your way of asking for me to get on with it and fuck you?” Calum laughed as I nodded, sucking on the side of his neck.

[purplesurveys]

1035

survey by tickticktmr

Do people spell your name wrong very often? LOL, of course. When your name is the less-common variant, expect it to be misspelled all the time. Only like 2 out of 10 times do people ask me if my name is spelled with an i or y, but it’s them I appreciate the most.

Who will your next phone call be with? I’m not expecting any phone call for a while.

Would you rather be taken or single? Ugh, taken. I love being in a relationship; I always enjoyed looking after someone else and doing things to make them happy. Being independent has its perks too, but I always feel lonely at the end of the day.

Do you plan to move any time soon? Nope, I’m taking it slow.

Would you rather have pink or green hair? I’d go with green but only if it’s a dark shade, like the color of seaweed. I wouldn’t appreciate neon green on my hair.

Do you miss anyone's smile right now? I saw it again yesterday, so I’m good.

Do you want kids? I used to, but now I’m back to the drawing board when it comes to kids.

Do you know who sings 'Let it rock'? It’s not ringing a bell, and honestly the first thing I remembered was the Goofy Goober Rock song from the Spongebob Movie HAHAHA. Sorry to disappoint.

Do you think stargazing is a romantic thing to do with someone? Sure, but I think it also works platonically. Stargazing is generally a nice and relaxing thing to do whether you’re alone, with an SO, with a friend, or with a bunch of friends.

Do you want to tell someone something right now? Yes, but I can’t.

What's your opinion on sex before marriage? It’s whatever. People can do what they want, and the only things they should watch out for are consent and being safe.

Do you own a car? I don’t own it, i.e. I didn’t pay for it, but it was given to me so I can have a car to drive myself when I need to go to places.

What is something that is always in your kitchen cupboards? Rice.

The last person you spoke to: have you ever lied to them? For sure. Growing up with strict parents taught me how to lie convincingly.

Have you ever made out with them? That person is my mother. No.

What woke you up today? I did so naturally.

Have you ever had a pet rock? No. People do that? How do rocks become pets?

Have you ever been lost? LOL like the lost-in-life kind of lost? Sure. I’m going through it at present because life threw a shit ton of curveballs at me over the course of two months.

How long is it until your sibling)s) birthday? My brother’s birthday is in 5 months; my sister’s is in 10 as she celebrated her birthday just last September.

Are you lazy? I can be if I want to. But I’m not always, of course.

Do you read the newspaper? No.

Have you ever heard of the song 'Teeth the size of piano keys'? No.

Who was your last thought about? You got me thinking about my sister because of the earlier question about her birthday.

What made you in the mood you are in right now? I’m relaxed at the moment and that’s thanks to the fact that it’s Sunday, I’ve recently gotten into a new hobby and a show I can dive into, and tomorrow’s a holiday so no work for me :) Gonna make the most out of this evening for sure.

Have you ever told someone to go to Hell? I’ve most likely done so, but only as a joke.

Do you know anyone named Jos? As in, pronounced ‘Jaws’? No. That’s one of the more unique names I’ve heard.

What's your font on MSN/AIM? I don’t use either. I never used either, either.

What's more important to you: books or music? Music.

Do you have any magazine subscriptions? Nah. Even when I still collected magazines, I preferred physically going to magazine stands and buying new issues. It was more exciting that way.

Has someone ever really hurt you without even realizing? Yeah.

What do you sleep in? A bed, most often. Sometimes I’ll pass out on the couch but that doesn’t happen too much anymore.

Have you changed in the past six months? Yes, both naturally and forcibly. It’s been... quite a year for me, even if we put Covid aside.

Do you bite your nails? When I’m anxious. I haven’t had to do this for a while though, and I mostly did when I was in school awaiting a presentation I had to make.

Do you like the name Natasha? I used to like it when I was younger, but it slipped out of my favorites for no real reason at some point; it just did.

What's a food that starts with the last letter of your first name? Naan.

Does your house have a white picket fence? It used to, but we had them removed after a string of typhoons increasingly deteriorated their quality over the years.

Have you ever been given flowers? Sure.

Do you have a YouTube account? How many videos have you watched on it? I do. Is the second one a real question lol? I’ve watched thousands, as I’m sure most people who use YouTube have done as well. This is like asking how many tweets in total I’ve read on Twitter since I first signed up.

Do you know anyone who is really, really conceited? My mom can be one. She likes to act as if she can do no wrong.

Who’s the last person you told off? My manager at work. I did something she asked me to do and followed the instructions down to a T...and then she said I shouldn’t have done it? That kind of thing happens at work every now and then and it’s fucking exhausting. It’s like every move I make has its own script and the script changes every five minutes. 

Are you optimistic? Sure, but not always.

How do you get to school/your job? I work from home, but under normal circumstances I would’ve been driving myself to the workplace.

Love or lust? Love.

Do you smoke cigarettes? Yeah, but I keep my use of it at an extreme minimum. I’ve only done it socially and I’ve only asked for cigarettes from my friends who have their own packs (and were willing to give me a couple of sticks, of course).

Have you ever been so mad at someone you hurt them? Like, physically? Yes, but it’s only because I was hit first.

Have you ever met someone you met online in person? This is on surveys a lot...yes. I’ve met several online friends who were once in the wrestling circle with me; and one time I bought a product from someone online so we had to meet up for that, too.

Have you ever not studied for a test and gotten 100%? Probably not a 100%, but close. I never studied for my Language exams in middle school because it was just literal English grammar, which I was already good at by that point.

Where is your boyfriend/girlfriend right now? I don’t have any.

Have you ever won a contest for public speaking? No, but I’ve joined one. I got a little frazzled by the middle of my speech (it was impromptu and I didn’t know my question until I got on stage) so in the end that cost me first place.

Are there any woods near where you live? Nah, it’s a private village so it’s super suburban and no hidden woods or forests anywhere.

What did you do today? So far I’ve watched 3/4 of an episode of Start Up, cried, washed my face, washed the glass that I drank soju from last night, and sat up in bed and continued this survey.

Have you ever considered suicide? Yes.

Do you have a lot of myspace friends? No. I never really used my account.

What was your favorite subject in grade six? Science was fun then. Partly because I could tell the teacher liked me, and partly because her method of teaching was big on memorization of terms and processes which was always more my speed.

Hot chocolate or coffee? I could go for coffee right now. Hot chocolate is best when I’m on vacation and having breakfast at a fancy hotel.

Do you like your neighbours? I don’t dislike them, that’s for sure.

Did you do something stupid today? Not yet. 

Name a five letter word that starts with the same letter as your first name. Ripen.

What time did you go to sleep last night? Around midnight. That soju/Yakult combo knocked me out.

Did you have fun yesterday? It was an okay day, sure. I got productive and even drank for a bit last night just because.

How many people are online on your MSN/AIM right now?

Would you like to/did you drop out of school? No, that was never a part of my plans.

What was your favorite book as a child? If we’re talking kids’ books, I never got tired of rereading Corduroy and The Giving Tree. I also had a book of poems and nursery rhymes and I remember taking a liking for The Owl and the Pussycat because it was the longest poem in the book and it helped me train my English.

How far away does your best friend live from you? Both live around 20-30 minutes away, just in different directions.

Do you think you could write a book? A memoir, yes. Anything fictional, no.

Is it hard to tell someone you like them? Yes.

How many bedrooms does your house have? 4.

Do you know anyone who can't speak French? Nearly everyone I know.

When's the last time you brushed your teeth? Last night.

Are you the same religion as your parents? Legally. But I disowned Catholicism/Christianity a long time ago.

Would you do anything for a certain person? Yes, I would.

Do you know anyone in your science class? The last science class I took was a course on chemistry, and I only knew one person in that class.

Describe your room: Cozy, starting to get a little cluttered, big enough for one person.

Do you still write letters to Santa, even when you know he's not real? No, and I never wrote letters addressed to a Santa.

Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Nope.

Have you ever been lied to by a girlfriend/boyfriend? I’m sure she did.

Where is your dad right now? I can’t tell whose turn it is to make breakfast today, so he’s either in the kitchen cooking or in their bedroom watching TV.

Are any of your relatives pregnant? As far as I know, no. But I also haven’t been on Facebook in a while, so I’m poorly updated on what my relatives have been up to.

How many garabe buckets are in your house? I have no idea what this is talking about.

Would you want the truth if you asked if your pants made you look horrible? If I asked that then yeah, I obviously would want to hear the truth.

[bleached-d-soul]

Team ALAN: Lovely In-CON-veniences

Part 3 of Team ALAB commissions for @the-hapless-ace

This was a mistake.

When you join a terrorist organization, you have to learn how to sense danger before it occurs. You either learn to do it early or have to learn from experiences, sometimes not without the loss of some limbs and sanity. Adam should have know that when Ruby burst into their room with that creepy smile of hers, he should have run and hidden for a week or two.

The Vale Comic Con was an event not unknown to Adam, if only because he once considered it as a potential target for White Fang attack. And no, it wasn't because of the overwhelming amount of Ninja Catgirl cosplayers there. He simply hated the fetishism with reagrds to the faunus. Rehardless of that, he absolutely refused to go.

Unfortunately, he owed Weiss a date of her choosing. And just like the real Schnee, she refused to suffer alone.

"Oh my Gods, can we please take a picture?"

The decision came last moment. And since |Ruby refused to allow him to go there in his normal clothes, he had to make do with whatever stuff he had lying around. His old cloak without the rose emblem. His old mask without color marks. And of course, the black wig provided to him by Blake. Apparently, his ex couldn't miss the chance to get some laughs out of it.

"You look just like the Joker!"

"The clown?"

"No, from Persona series!"

"Ah, right."

He had no idea who that was. In a couple of moments, thankfully, that humiliation was over. Before he could get back to Weiss to give her another piece of his mind though, another couple of girls approached him. More pictures? Fine, whatever got that off his back.

"Can you take a rose from my hands with your mouth?"

Sure, whatever. Quickly, he did as asked. The girl ran away squealing.

"Can you cover your eyes with your hands, please?"

She did promise him to leave quickly so why not. The girl wandered off smiling.

"Can I sit in your lap?"

"Yeah, su-"

The ground shook. The air around them dropped a few degrees in temperature before the wall of ice separated him from the surprisingly large crowd of women. Were they under attack? Finally! Some chance to escape this madhouse and-

"Adam. Taurus."

The chilling and emotionless tone pierced through the air, his eyes drawn towards the source of it. Surrounded by ice and snow, in the middle of the hall stood none other than his girlfriend. And she was absolutely burning with rage, if only the giant Knight of white and blue looming over her was any indication.

"I leave for a few seconds and you are feeling up some other girls?"

What?

"I didn't do anything like that!" Was it really how it looked? He was just trying to get them off his back. It was either caving in to their demands or cutting them down. And it was her and Ruby that explicitly forbade him from killing the people he found annoying. "You know this is not my fault, right?"

Something clicked in Weiss' eyes. The semblance of clearance and understanding that promised him the peaceful resolution and the quiet for the rest of this already unpleasant and annoying day.

That promise died an ugly death as the girl's eyes lost any and all light and her lips stretched into an ugly smile.

One that promised only bloodshed and death.

"You are right... This is not your fault at all."

Good, maybe things weren't so bad.

"It is all these harlots that want you!"

...

Shit.

ALAB

"Yang, are you angry at me?"

"No."

"You look angry."

"I don't."

"Your hair is on fire and your eyes are burning red."

"And?"

Ren looked at his girlfriend's face, wondering what he should say. What he could even say when faced with this angry pout of hers. In many ways. Yang was just as emotionally broken as he was. She hid her abandonment issues and insecurities behind the cocky attitude and pride much like he hid his anger and pain behind the stoic and serene attitude.

But no matter how much they masked their fears and insecurities, those still existed and sometimes came to the surface in the most unfortunate of times. Just like their current situation.

"Sorry for getting us kicked out of that contest," Yang said as they sat down in a nearby cafe. It was a nice place and, thankfully, with only a few people. It was pretty early right now so most attendees must have been stuck buying merch and meeting all the celebrities that were here today. "I know I could have handled that... better than I did."

That was one way to put it.

Ren had little reservations about his body. And even though he was embarrassed with the outfit Yang picked for him, he grew comfortable with it very quickly. Yang herself said she wanted to show off her boyfriend's amazing body in that skintight outfit that consisted of only a shirt that covered his chest and a tight pair of shorts. And she did enjoy the jealous and hungry looks thrown his way.

For a total of ten minutes before she started frantically looking for something to cover him with.

She found nothing and so spent the last hour or so glaring at every woman that passed them by. It was fine, Ren told himself. Glaring and growling was fine as long as things didn't become physical. They eventually did, mostly because he couldn't help himself. Ren rarely indulged in things like video games or junk food like his friends. But when the chance to get the next edition of his favorite game came, he simply couldn't let this chance pass him by.

So he signed up even though Yang wasn't interested and got ready to win. It was all good and great for the first two stages. He was in the lead and, by the looks of it, would be coming home with the prize in his hand.

Then the third stage announced was the couple game. And unfortunately, for all the single ladies and gentlemen, they were paired up with random contestant. It was clear the stage was meant to see who could adapt the fastest and give the most coherent performance. He was lucky to draw the second strongest contestant for himself.

Who turned out to be Neon, the girl Yang fought just a few days ago.

He could have sworn he heard something snap. And when he looked at Yang... Well, he told himself she wouln't do anything drastic in the open.

And for the first few minutes, he was actually right. Their dance was energetic and synchronized, him acting as the strong and solid foundation for Neon's more flashy and bright moves.

The music came to an end, the crowd exploded with claps and whistles. They were going to win, for sure. That game was as good as his!

Then Neon delivered a loud and sharp slap across his ass.

And next thing he knew, the dancing contest turned into a huge catight.

"Ren?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you angry at me?"

"No."

"You look... Well, I never can tell but I would be angry if I were you."

"I am not though," a little bit upset. But not angry. "Plus, I am sure you are not going to-"

She was gone.

He turned to look at the trail of blazes left behind. The sound of an all too familiar laugh of one rollerblading huntress was the proof enough his day was about to become much louder and hotter.

ALAB

Mercury loved to drive the little Red crazy.

Call him an asshole but there was something incredibly satisfying about watching the girl so confident on the battlefield turn into a blushing stammering mess. Sometimes he would kiss her out in the open or flirt with her during the spar. She looked so cute when she was trying to take his head off with that scythe of hers while burning red as her cape.

Today was an exception, though.

Today it was him on the other end of the stick.

"C-Come on, Red, be reasonable here, please?" He was backed against the wall, the passers-by either ignoring them or taking pictures. Something about real-life Yandere of whatever the fuck those nimrods were whispering about. "R-Ruby, I swear to Gods, stay away from me with that marker!"

She dressed up as some superhero named... Flasher or whatever, he didn't pay much mind. He did, however, take the opportunity to show off his assets and get the girl all hot and bothered under that skintight suit of hers. Seriously, for the girl with so many reservations and social troubles, she seemed unaware of how many guys threw horny looks her way.

He did. And now those guys stayed far away from her.

Apparently, she was not as oblivious as he thought and noticed all the lustful and hungry looks. But only the ones that came from other girls towards him. Which brings us back to him, backed into the corner with his girlfriend trying to mark him of all things!

"I will be quick, Mercury, I promise!"

"That's a permanent marker, Ruby!"

"I am sure we can remove it later!"

"This doesn;t make it better!"

In hindsight, it was all his fault. He should have chosen something that could be actually zipped up. Instead he went dressed as this emo ninja with weird eyes powers who dressed like a stripper. And now Ruby wanted to write her name on his chest like some toy.

Sounded kinky but it wasn't!

"I will buy a bunch of strawberry cookies a-!"

"No!" She yelled, covering her ears. "You can't bribe if I can't hear you!"

An opening to exploit! Yes!

He rushed past her and into the crowd. Maybe he could snatch someone's cape or something? Before he could rob some poor sucker, the torpedo of rose petals smashed into him from behind. Positioning herself on the top of his stomach, Ruby showed no hesitation or shame as she breathed down his neck.

With the eyes full of the terrifying emotion and her smile so hollow it sent chills down his smile, Ruby whispered:

"Now they all will know you are mine and only mine!"

Her marker stabbed into his chest like a knife, marking him as her property and lover.

Somehow, he didn' feel so scared about it.

"Now let's go and show them all that you are mine!"

... And now he was.

ALAB

"Go and tell her she is ugly."

"I am not doing that."

"Fine, then the collar stays on."

"Ugh..."

Out of his entire team, Jaune was possibly the only one excited to come here. He never attended one of the major conventions since, well, his town didn't have any and he barely had the money to come here. So when Ruby won the total of eight passes here, he was ready to kiss her! Well, not really, since she was dating Mercury and that was violation of a bro code.

Also because he also had a girlfriend whom he liked a lot

Even if she could become a bit... possessive.

"Come on, this doesn't even make any sense for me to wear a collar! I am Leon Kennedy!" And Leon Kennedy was a badass that could never stay caught for that long. "Also Ada uses a giant crossbow and your weapon looks nothing like that."

"I don't give a shit, it was the costume the guy in the store recommended," Vernal scoffed as she tugged on his leash. Her eyes scanned the crowd like an expert predator. She saw a couple of nerds drooling over how tight the pants hugged her legs and ass. Heh, good time jerking off, losers. Then her eyes caught some girls drooling over how tight Jaune's pants hugged his ass and legs.

...

They would have to go. Not now, of course. Her boyfriend always got upset whenever she threatened other girls with violence, Gods know why though.

"V-Vernal, where are we going?"

"Just shut up and follow me, loverboy."

Vernal might have lived in Beacon now but she still lived by the laws of her tribe. And the law of the strong was simple back home: See. Want. Take.

The last part - about putting down anyone who tried to take something from you - was an unspoken rule, of course. Back in the tribe, it was the strongest who got the best food and stuff. Not because they were better at scavenging and stealing, but rather because they knew how to take something from others better. And Vernal knew that, if she allowed even one of the girls here approach her boyfriend, she would give everyone the signal she was soft.

Not happening.

"And now for the second place in our couples costu- Hey, ma'am, you are not supposed to-Oh! Wait, not in the face! Not in the face!"

The silence fell over the crowd.

All eyes were on them,

Vernal took the mic.

Jaune covered his face.

"Alright, listen up, all of you! I know that most of you here are losers with nothing better to do than dress up as leather-clad morons and bitches and think you are cool because you watched some Mistralian cartoons with lots of yelling. I also know that at least eighty per cent of you are fucking virgins desperate to get some and watching some camgirls dress up like your favorite cartoon girls drives you nuts," she ignored the death glares thrown her way. Jaune yelped as Vernal dragged him up and planted a deep wet kiss on his lips, invading his mouth with her tongue for the crowd to see. "Having said that, neither me nor MY boyfriend here are as lame you all. And if I see any of you bitches looking at my fucking man, remember-"

She spread her arms, showing her toned body for people to drink in.

"- this is what he enjoys every night. Remember that before looking at him next time!"

Vernal dropped the mic.

Then she grabbed him by the collar and began passionately marking him as hers.

Regardless of that, Jaune would cry as he would later find out he was banned from this convention for the foreseeable future.

Just like the rest of his and RWBY teams.

[srprincess]

Spookydoo AU update time!

Chapter 16 now

fictober prompt 6. “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?” 

(because why quit a good thing? what even is time anyway?)

“So. You’re Lou,” Nursey said after he was, mostly, calmed down.

“I am,” Lou replied. With what might have been a smile, or maybe a smirk, she told him, “Don’t worry. I know who you are.”

Will couldn't decide if it was antagonistic or teasing. In his experience, it was a fine line sometimes.  

“Hm. Well. You don't look like a hundred year old ghost,” Nursey said, taking in her appearance with narrowed eyes.

He had apparently decided to steer toward contentious, Will thought.  

“Excuse you! What's wrong with how I look?”

And there was a defensive reply from Lou. He was going to have to step in before this got out of hand. Him. The reasonable one. Will shook his head at what an unexpected turn of events that was.

“Nothing’s wrong with how you look, you look very nice,” Will told her in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. To Nursey he said, “You could try acting nice.”

“That’s it, exactly!” Nursey pointed at him before spinning back towards Lou. “She looks nice. Too nice.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?!” Will asked him. “I have no idea where you're going with this.” He looked at Lou hoping for some sort of clarification, but she just shrugged.

As far as Will could tell, Lou fit right in. Open cardigan over a sundress. Strappy sandals. Not quite dressed for the weather, but she wouldn't be the first to put style over function. Her hair was slightly fancy and too perfectly styled for the beach. He didn't know a lot about these sorts of things, but even Will could tell not a hair looked out of place. But overall? She could have passed as any of the tourists wandering around town in season.

Any modern tourist. Which- okay, maybe that was a little strange.

Nursey seemed to notice the exact second the problem clicked in Will’s head and told him, “You get it, I know you do. She looks too normal.”

“Not to belabor the point, but - again - ’she’ is right here and can hear you. And I had no idea I was dealing with such a fashion expert,” she added with an eye roll that put Will’s to shame. She huffed before adding, “Imagine picking apart my fashion sense, dressed like that?”  

“Hey! He borrowed that from me!” Will protested. Who in Maine didn't have a closet full of flannel? He'd passed up wearing his favorite to let Nursey borrow it. It wasn't even rumpled. Much.

“Yes, I’m aware. Your point? Mine is this - two people who look like they just rolled out of bed should not be lecturing anyone on what they choose to wear.” With a huff, Lou added, “I’m starting to second guess if I should be helping you.”

“How is this helping?” Will asked, confused. “Helping who with what?”

 Ignoring him, Nursey backpedaled, “I’m not saying it looks bad. It's just - your look - it’s barely out of date. And with a white sundress? What happened to ’lady in black’? That’s what all the books and shit said.”

“For your information, not that it's any of your business, but you'll do a lot to get rid of the ’lady in black’ stories following you every time you want to take a walk after dark. It took a few decades to figure out how to focus enough to change things, but it was worth it.”

“Hold up,” Nursey said, suddenly fascinated. “Are you saying you can just change what you look like?”

In a blink, she changed from the sundress into a black wool coat covering a long dark dress. With a look of concentration, she cycled through a few other outfits. A flowy one-piece pants outfit, a modest swimsuit, a dress with brightly colored swirls, shorts and a sleeveless top, and then back to what she had been wearing minutes before.

”Whoa- so you- wow, ” was Nursey’s shocked reply. Will couldn't fault his lack of coherency as he was speechless himself. Knowing a person could do something and then actually witnessing it firsthand were very different.

Appeased by his impressed tone, Lou told Nursey, “You'd be surprised what a person can do given the motivation.”  

”And it’s that easy?”

“Well, if it’s something I've already ’worn’ it generally is. New things require more energy and rest after.”

”Is it only clothes, or can you change everything about your appearance?”

”I think so, but everything has a cost and so I've only tweaked a little here and there since that first. Hair, makeup, superficial things.”

“Sorry if I came off a little-” Nursey waved his arms around, “This is all so - wow. I don't even know.”

“If that was supposed to be an apology,” She raised an eyebrow in question and he nodded before she continued, “I accept. Now about freckles. What do you think?”

Nursey searched her face, ”You don't have any? Not that I can see anyway.”

“Not yet,” she confirmed. ” But I've been thinking of giving myself some. What do you think? I always see how many more Will has at the end of the summer, and it makes me wonder. Doesn't he have such nice freckles?”

 Will, who had been very happy to fade into the background and listen to the conversation up until this point, suddenly found himself the sole focus of the other two people. Two people staring at his face full of freckles. Because Lou was right about the quantity of them. By the time fall hit every year he was almost more freckle than not. But to call them nice? He was fair certain his mother was the only one who had ever said such a thing, and she had had fair skin herself and was likely biased. God knew, in school all it earned him was teasing.

In any case, that much attention on him had his face heating in embarrassment. If he could have conjured a pit of quicksand on the beach to swallow him whole he would have. Failing at that, and not even having a hat to pull down, he settled for hiding his face behind his hands. How much could a person be expected to endure in a single-

The train of thought was abruptly cut off when Nursey answered, “Yeah, he does. Very nice.”

That wasn't going to help the blushing situation, Will thought, but still he peeked out through his fingers just enough to see the other man smiling. Seemingly sincere, and not teasing.

Nursey pulled Will’s hands the rest of the way down. “The freckles are a good look,” he said before turning back to Lou. “But for him, maybe not for you. Maybe something less - beauty mark maybe?”

“Hmmm,” Lou said, considering it. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

 Lou and Nursey might have continued talking after that, but Will couldn't say for sure. There was this buzz in his head drowning out everything else.

He stared down at the sand, his brain stalled on the fact that Nursey said he liked his freckles. Not just freckles in general, but his. He dared a peek back up at him and noticed Nursey looking back before quickly darting his eyes away. And - was Nursey blushing too? It wasn't quite the neon sign alert that his own blush was, but in this light? Well, there definitely seemed to be a flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

He knew he should make an attempt to follow the conversation, and he tried. But - this was Nursey’s fault. With his compliments and smiles and looks. And the hand holding that he was still doing from when he pulled Will’s down away from his face. He could have let go, but he hadn’t. Okay, maybe he wasn’t quite holding them. Just. Resting his hands under them. And tracing his fingers back and forth along the lines of his wrists and sides of his hands. So no, not holding, but somehow more.

With all this running through his head, Will had to be excused for not exactly paying attention.  

Then, unfortunately, Lou’s voice became a little more clipped in her answers, and it pulled him back.

 “Why were you here then?” Nursey asked her.

“As I said, I don't want to talk about that,” Lou told him, clearly not for the first time.  

Oh, Will thought, they must have moved away from fashion and back to the business of ghosting.

“What about how, ummm, I don't know how to ask this in a sensitive way-“

“Maybe because there isn't a sensitive way to ask and you shouldn’t?”

“Shouldn’t try to be sensitive? But-”

“Oh god. No. That you shouldn't be asking.”

“Don't you want people to know what happened?”

“It won’t change things.”

“I just think-”

“Listen. How I died is the least interesting part of my life, and I don't want to talk about it. That is final.”

 Generally stomping a foot in the sand like she did wouldn't have done much, but the wind had started to come in harder off the water too as Lou raised her voice. Will was afraid this was going to lead to another storm like the night before, in which case it needed to stop before it started. Not to mention, the beach might have been practically empty but raised voices carried and tended to draw attention. Even if he wasn't sure whether or not just anyone could hear hers. It didn't seem like a good time for more questions. He decided to try and keep the peace between them again.

 “Maybe you guys need a little break? How about we head back to the house where it's more comfortable and, you know, private.”

“I still don’t want-” Lou started.

“We won’t ask any more about that,” Will turned at hearing Nursey’s intake of breath, “We will not.”

“Fine,” Nursey muttered.

“See?” Will told Lou, “We can talk about whatever. Or nothing. Your call.”

He thought maybe she was weakening. The wind was at least. A good sign.

”Maybe you could meet everyone else?” Nursey asked hopefully.

”Nope.” Lou said wide eyed right before she popped out of sight.

”Did she- she just- she noped out! Literally!”

”Yep. She sure did.” Will agreed.

”Huh. What now?”

”I think we've learned all we can here. She isn't going to show back up until she wants to.”

“She’ll be back though, right?”

“I think so. Eventually. Maybe don't push her so much next time. A person’s death is about as personal as it gets,” Will pointed out.

“Yeah, suppose so,” Nursey reluctantly agreed. “Might as well head back?”

”That was my thought. You owe me some good coffee first though. I'll show you where to find it.”

[emdythewriter]

Let me be your shield | chapter six (Elriel)

Elain wasn’t sure what to expect when she agreed to let Azriel plan her day. She had woken up later that morning and went to breakfast with her sisters. Feyre shared the news that her and Rhys were expecting with them. Nesta didn’t look one ounce of shocked, most likely she already knew beforehand. Elain felt happy but a hint of pain from her own past.

After breakfast she sulked home and pulled out the box. It took a lot more energy than Elain expected to reign in the tears, but she managed. When she finally forced herself to put the lid back on and set it back on the shelf she escaped to her bedroom where she took a nap. She slept until Azriel came to pick her up and shook her awake.

“What’s going on?” she groaned as she sat up slowly, rubbing at her heavy eyes. Elain was sure there was red puffiness still present, but she could care less. Her bodyguard seemed to want to ask her what was wrong but thought better of it once he looked into her brown eyes, which were darker than normal.

“I guess I’m cheering you up,” Az said giving her a soft smile before pulling her to her feet. Slowly Elain moved about, getting ready while her bodyguard and friend waited for her downstairs. She had been fine, and she was going to continue to be fine, but all she really wanted was Lucien. Even if he hadn’t been the best boyfriend lately he always knew what to do when she felt like this.

When Elain was done making herself look presentable once more she headed downstairs, finding Az sitting at the island and texting someone on his phone. He turned when he heard her sneakers padding against the wood. She had changed into a pair of jeans and a loose and faded brown t-shirt she had stolen from Lucien. Elain had even pulled her hair back, something she only did once in a blue moon.

“You ready?” Azriel asked, standing up from the bar stool and grabbing his keys. She couldn’t even bother to fake a smile as she nodded and followed him out. He turned to lock the door behind them because Elain was already heading down the steps.

“Where are you taking me?” Elain asked once Azriel was in the driver’s seat and starting the car up. He pulled out of the space in front of her townhouse and onto the street before answering her.

“Right now we’re going to get food then we’ll get to the real fun,” he answered but only roused more questions in her, which Elain hated. She liked straight forward answers not ones that led to more questions.

“Are you going to tell me anything else?” she didn’t see the harm in asking but Elain had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Nope,” Azriel replied just like she had suspected.

“Can you at least tell me what we’re getting to eat?” Elain groaned hoping he would at least throw her this bread crumb.

“Pizza,” she was more than happy with that answer. In Elain’s mind pizza usually meant beer which meant she could drink her sorrows away tonight.

“Just what I was craving,” Azriel looked over at her as she turned to watch the buildings and cars pass out her window. He seemed to know her true intentions but didn’t reprimand her for it, probably knowing the sadness he had seen in Elain’s eyes earlier was just the surface of the storm brewing.

The rest of the way to the restaurant Elain didn’t speak. Az wanted to say something but how could he when he had no idea what was wrong? This light he had known her to be had been snuffed out by some past darkness. Azriel knew it was an event from her past that was bothering mostly because he had been in her current state of mind himself.

Pulling into the parking lot, Elain jumped out before he could even cut the engine. The moment they were seated in a corner booth and the waitress came by she had ordered her first beer. Az stuck with water, let her be the one to get wasted. He had another feeling that she needed that escape.

“What do you like on your pizza?” Azriel asked talking to Elain for the first time it what seemed like hours. He was so used to her constantly talking with him that it felt foregin the whole drive here when she had chosen to remain silent. He hoped to break that now.

“I don’t really have a preference,” Elain answered as she took a generous gulp of the beer the waitress had set before her only a moment ago. With that answer he ordered a pepperoni pizza for them to share. Elain was going to need as much food as she could fit into her stomach with the way she was planning on drinking tonight.

“Can you tell me where we’re going now?” Elain asked starting to sound like an impatient child as she finished her beer. Az watched her for a moment feeling as helpless as ever and hating every moment of it.

“Nope,” he shook his head before taking a sip of his water. Elain noticed he was looking anywhere but at her. He was upset, she knew that. Azriel wanted to help her with the state she was in, but she couldn’t talk about what she had gone through. At least not yet but someday Elain knew she would tell her friend the whole story.

“Why not,” she whined as their waitress replaced her empty glass with a full one.

“I want it to be a surprise,” Az said simply with a shrug. Elain glared at him, kind of hating him for keeping this so called surprise from her.

“It’s not my birthday or anything so why keep it from me?”

“It’s fun to watch you squirm,” Az leaned his arms on the table so he could get closer to her, a smirk present on his face. It was the first time that night Elain was starting to feel like herself again. Yet instead of playing along with his teasing she leaned back and drank.

The pizza was brought to their table soon after and they gobbled it down, both apparently starving. When every last slice of cheesy goodness was devoured and Elain had topped off her third beer, they headed out. Wherever they were going wasn’t far as five minutes later Az had parked the SUV again. They were in front of a bowling alley.

“Bowling?” Elain asked as Az jumped out of the vehicle.

“You look like you need to hit something,” that was all he said as they headed inside and he paid for the lane and shoes. Elain ordered a drink at the bar as he paid at the counter. With a fresh drink in hand she met Azriel at the shoe center before going to claim the balls they needed.their lane was located at the end, it being the only vacated one.

As they headed over Elain took in the decor of the place. There were eight lanes which seemed about average to her. The whole place was covered with neon symbols of bowling balls, pins, and words. It looked like something from the disco age and she loved the atmosphere. The bar was on the far wall by the first lane and that would’ve made the experience better.

Azriel chose to put the names in, Elain saying she was awful with any form of technology. Her name was “sunshine” and his was “shadow”. He thought it would bring a little humor considering their moods today.

“Funny,” Elain said as she went to grab her ball. She lined herself up and Az expected her to be bad but she landed a strike. His eyes were wide in surprise as she walked back to her seat, crossing her legs as she took a drink. “What? Did you expect me to be bad?”

“I certainly wasn’t expecting competition,” Az said, smirking as he grabbed his own ball and lined up. He landed a strike.

“Not bad,” Elain said giving him a shrug in response to his satisfied smirk. Her blood boiled now, ready for the anticipation of a good game. She had bowled with her sisters and their significant others before, but it was never like this. Feyre always went in the gutter, Cassian was usually only there for the drinks, Nesta was okay, and Rhys was the only decent one. No surprise there.

Elain rolled another strike. So did Azriel. Things were heating up to new levels. She found herself loving every tense moment of it. Then she got a split, a small one and most likely possible for her to knock over, but not entirely easy.

“You going to make that?” Azriel said smiling smugly as he took a sip of her beer, thinking he won this round.

“Don’t drink my beer,” Elain responded taking in from his hands. She swallowed the remaining alcohol in one gulp before turning back to the challenge at hand. She wasn’t prepared to lose to him, and she wouldn’t. Elain let the ball loose. She watched with bated breath as it made its way down the lane. She jumped in the air when both puns knocked over, doing a victory dance.

“Hate to remind you sunshine,” Azriel said into her ear, his breath brushing her ear and sending a shiver down Elain’s spine. “But the game is far from over.” he rolled another strike. She would have to find a way to make up points for her spare. The task was easier said than done after four beers and the still present shiver from being so close to her bodyguard.

Bodyguard, not boyfriend Elain reminded herself, forced herself to remember. She had a boyfriend that she wanted to strangle for leaving, a boyfriend she wasn’t sure she still loved. Picturing her red hair, bright eyes, and narrow jaw she rolled the ball. Strike.

“Who’d you picture,” Azriel asked as she came to sit. He had noticed the ferocity in her throw of course it being his job and all to notice everything about her. Elain liked that he did.

“You,” she said as she reached for the fresh glass of alcohol she had requested be brought over. With a sigh Az stood and took his turn. It was his turn to get a spare, in fact it was a split as well but a much bigger gap was between the pins. Elain chuckled into her sip of beer, Az turned to glare at her. He didn’t get the second pin like she did. “That had me taking the lead doesn’t it?”

“Just bowl.” She smirked as she stood to take her turn. The game ended with Azriel’s roll and Elain as the victor.

“Another game?”

“Best out of three.”

Azriel was first up this time and of course he started them off with a strike. Elain noticed they had started to draw a crowd with the last few rounds of their first game, but her bodyguard ignored it. At least it seemed that way but she knew he was on high alert, it was why he hadn’t had a drop to drink besides the teasing sip he had taken of her drink.

“I think we’ve drawn a crowd,” she commented as she stepped up to take her turn.

“They’re probably shocked to see such a small girl attempt to beat me,” Az responded.

“I did beat you.”

“Not this round.”

Elain rolled her eyes before going to roll. He must’ve jinxed her because she got another spare. The rest of the game Az only landed strikes, it was some kind of voodoo Elain thought as they started the third and final game.

“I think we should make a bet,” she said, swaying on her feet slightly from the five beers she had drank that night. She was only tipsy.

“What kind of bet?” Azriel asked sounding surprised but intrigued.

“Like the loser has to do something for the winner,” Elain explained. “We did say best out of three for a reason.”

“Alright what should we bet?”

“How about if I win you have to build me a shed for my gardening tools.” Azriel chuckled causing Elain to furrow her eyebrows.

“That’s just as innocent as I expected.”

“What do you want something dirty? I have a boyfriend.”

“And I’m your bodyguard.”

“Forbidden love.” Azriel chuckled again, this time Elain smiled truly for the first time that night. She would blame it on the beer later.

“We could.”

“I’ll probably forget in the morning.” she wouldn’t, they both knew she hadn’t drank too much for that. Elain was no light weight. Az had witnessed that recently with her sisters.

“With that in mind what would you suggest now?” He stepped closer to her, Elain’s breath caught as she stared up into her hazel eyes.

“If I win,” she stepped closer to him. “I want you to go down on me at the most inappropriate time and place.” Azriel smirked and stepped closer to her. Leaning down he whispered in Elain’s ear again, another shiver.

“If I win I get to take you against the wall of that shed I’m building.” Heat pooled at her core and he seemed to register what he was doing to her. Az’s hazel eyes morphed from teasing to utter lust, and Elain wanted him to ravish her.

“I have a boyfriend,” she reminded herself more than him. It needed to be said. Needed to reiterate that this was a joke, nothing would come of this bet.

“I know.” Elain turned to bowl. Azriel won the last game she was so distracted.

___

When they made it back to the townhouse Elain was laughing. She felt lighter on her feet, though that was most likely due to the seven drinks she had. She was drunk, but not too drunk that Azriel was worried about her state of mind.

“You’re going to fall and hurt yourself,” he said laughing as Elain spun all giddy as if she was wearing a dress fit for a Disney princess. He probably should be more serious than what he currently was but after so much darkness around her Az was happy she was normal again, though in a drunken state of mind. That part didn’t matter.

“I’m fine,” Elain said dancing to music that wasn’t playing. “Dance with me.”

“I’m taking you to bed,” Azriel responded as he grabbed for the outstretched hand she offered him.

“That sounds better,” Elain giggled as he pulled her into his arms. She smiled so brightly up at him that Azriel felt his walls melting. It wasn’t the time for that, she’s drunk he reminded himself. Picking her up he carried her up the steps, bridal style to avoid any potential harm.

“I’m not your boyfriend Elain.”

“I wish you were,” she mumbled as she snuggled her head into his neck. Az’s blood went suddenly cold at that. He didn’t want to think that Lucien had been the cause of her drinking, the man that was supposed to love her unconditionally.

“Trouble in paradise?” he questioned though he knew he shouldn’t as he kicked the door to her bedroom open.

“Something like that,” Elain answered in a very sleepy voice. Azriel pulled the covers back and set her small frame onto the mattress. He bent down onto her knees to help her take off the sneakers she had worn tonight. “I thought you no to bedroom fun.”

“I did, Az found himself unable to not chuckle at this girl before him, this woman he wanted so desperately. “But I’m not your boyfriend.”

“That makes me sad,” Elain said as she unbuttoned her jeans. While she tugged them down her legs Azriel went to find a pair of shorts for her to sleep in. “You’d be a better boyfriend.”

“I’m sure it’s just a rough patch,” Az said as he handed her the shorts that Elain easily slipped on. “But I am sorry to hear it.”

“We’ve been in a rough patch for six months and I don’t think it’ll ever end.” Az wished he could say something to make his friend feel better as she tucked herself into an empty bed.

“Goodnight Elain,” was all he said as he turned to leave but she stopped him.

“Azriel,” she said so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. She sounded so sad.

“Yes?”

Stay with me.” Elain wasn’t asking.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“I won’t try anything,” Elain paused and hesitated before continuing. “I just want someone here when the nightmares come.”

Azriel’s heart broke. He hated seeing this light of the world so vulnerable and in pain. He hated being so clueless as to what was causing her to feel this way. He wanted to help but Az would never push her to open up if she wasn’t ready. So he would suffer along with her.

Elain moved over to let him underneath the covers once his shoes and shirt were on the floor. Azriel was thankful he had decided to wear sweatpants tonight rather than jeans. He laid on his back as she cuddled into her pillow and let her eyes fall shut.

“You know you can talk to me whenever you’re ready,” Az said.

“Same goes for you,” Elain whispered with her smile before her breathing evened out, she was asleep. Azriel was left awake to fight off the oncoming nightmares, both hers and his.

Tag list:

@maastrash @mis-lil-red @poisonous00 @ifangirlninja @nightcourtstarlight @sleeping-and-books @liquifyme @azriels-forgotten-shadow @allaboutthosegenes @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @bookdork6 @fireheart-of-your-dreams @schmlip-scribble @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @erinmau @cc-psm @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @kiss-my-maas @inrealliampain @fourshizzle149 @propagandaprincess

(Let me know if you want to be tagged!)

[aelaer]

Whumptober 3: Delirium

I apologize for the length, I have no idea how to make a read more link on the phone app and won't be home until very late.

Fandom: Doctor Strange / MCU

Warnings: I'm not sure how to tag in this one. Uh, flesh-eating alien bugs though not graphic, dead things, hallucinations

3. Delirium

Stephen was warned about Roseamundi early on, not too long after Dormammu.

"Doesn't that translate to 'Pink World' from Latin?" he asked Wong.

"It's very pink," Wong said with a shrug. "Don't want to spend more than an hour there, though."

"Why?"

"Eventually something within the atmosphere causes a person to start going delirious."

"Not in a good way, I take it."

"Records suggest that one will likely end up dead within a twelve-hour period."

Definitely not a good way.

So that dimension-hopping imp that came out from the relic they just got off Ebay and had trapped him in said Pink World was a real bonafide asshole. Stephen was pretty sure it knew exactly what it was doing.

Wong hadn't described how this dimension's victims were likely to die, but Stephen had a vivid imagination and entirely too much experience. So while he was still coherent, he found a clear spot in the lily pink field of something spongy, well away from anything sharp, and sat down. He took a deep breath to clear his mind and to sink into meditation. Not even the Cloak was with him; he could only rely upon himself.

As such, he didn't know how much time had passed when he started to feel a twitchy restlessness that eventually stirred him from his meditation. His fingers clenched and relaxed at his sides in involuntary intervals. Stephen's attempt to dive deep again into stillness, despite his practice, proved futile. His restlessness grew greater, running from his fingers into his arms and down the length of his body all the way to his toes. He wanted to get up. He wanted to pace. He forced himself to keep sitting. Discipline. 

His fingers twitched. He worked his jaw. He curled his toes. His muscles jumped underneath his skin, needing so very badly to move that it stung and burned. 

Wait.

Stephen opened his eyes. Hot pink ants a centimeter long, their mandibles half of their size, had chewed through almost all the material of his shirt sleeves and made several holes in his pants. The ones not still working on cloth were biting into his flesh, scraping through his skin to get deeper and deeper.

He cried out in alarm and sprung up, smacking and scrubbing the nasty alien insects off himself. If he had more strength in his hands Stephen may have scratched more holes into himself with his ferocity, but for now what damage there was mostly came from the ants.

After hopping away from the bugs, he set that part of the field on fire because his oath only covered sentient, reasoning beings and he's hated ants ever since he was a boy because they attacked his house every damn summer, without fail.

The fire extinguished itself and the ground was now a sooty pink and he was still restless and there were possibly more of those ants around, so he started to walk. Walking was good.

Maybe one minute, or ten minutes, or sixty minutes passed. It was a bit hard to tell. But he walked and it definitely did pass in some manner, and then he came across a hanging tree. It was a proper oak tree (though a bit pinkish) with strong, near horizontal branches curving more to his left than his right from his current point.

Also, there were bodies hanging on it, rope nooses and all. They seemed familiar in some weird way, though they were all far beyond the point of recognition. Decomposition was so advanced that he didn't smell anything beyond a strange crispness in the air that reminded him of childhood autumns. One of the corpses, oddly enough, looked a bit damp.

Then one of the bodies turned its head towards him and said, "Stevie," in his mother's voice.

Stephen felt his voice leave him. He took a step back.

"Leaving us again, Stephen?" asked another corpse with his father's voice.

"Please don't leave," said the damp corpse in his sister's voice, Donna's voice, drowned Donna.

He left. He fled away from the tree as fast as he was capable, scrambling from the field and to the rocky magenta mounds, cutting his palms and fingers upon sharp stone as he tripped and stumbled but it did not matter as he just had to get away, far away, as far as possible—

Something wrapped around his torso to bring him to an abrupt halt. He looked down and saw a wide, pinkish-red vine wrapped around him, trying to restrain him, drag him, kill him like he had been killed so many times before and not again, not again! 

Stephen conjured the Sword of the Vishanti to cut the vine about him in half. The attack did nothing, and the vine wrapped itself about him again to restrain both arms. He yelled in anger and fear, but he was not to be so easily bested by a plant, of all things. He began to draw in more power to try something he had yet to do without his hands, but what choice did he have? Besides, the Bolts of Balthakk would surely force it to release him.

"No!" he suddenly heard, and his surprise caused him to pause. About twenty feet away was Kaecilius, only he was a half-rotted corpse, and already he was creating a portal that led to the Dark Dimension and no, he would never go back— 

The vine shot him through the portal just as he built enough electricity in hands—

—and it dropped him just as he released a bolt through his body to cover his immediate area, which was the sickly neon surrounded by blackness—

… only no. No, it…

… the floor was… wood. Cool wood. Indoors.

He blinked the dark haze out of his eyes and the ringing in his ears subsided until he heard, "... hear me? Are you lucid?"

Stephen knew that voice. "Wong?" he croaked.

"Thank the Vishanti," his friend muttered. "Can you stand?"

He blinked as his eyesight came back fully. He was lying on his side in the foyer of the Sanctum. For some reason, the floor around him appeared splintered and burnt. His clothes were torn and his hands bloody, and in his peripheral vision he caught the Cloak hovering with nervous energy.

"What… what happened?" he muttered.

"What happened is that you ignored Master Hamir's explicit instruction to wait for another master before examining the relic and nearly got yourself killed," Wong said, tone indicating he was clearly not impressed. "You are very fortunate that the Cloak is as intelligent and loyal as it is. Now, can you stand?"

"I— I think so," he said, slowly getting to one knee. The Cloak attached himself to his shoulders and helped him up the rest of the way. At its touch, he remembered the pinkish-red vine. "Was that— were you with the Cloak in… where I was."

"Yes, and you can again thank the relic for saving your idiotic ass," Wong said irritably. "And for its efforts you nearly fried it. We're going to the healing wing now."

Was it really that bad? No, wait, did Wong say he nearly hit the Cloak with a spell? Well, the floor looked rather raw… healing wing, though? "I just…  need sleep," he said.

His thoughts were trailing this way and that as Wong opened a portal directly to the entrance of the wing. "Then sleep in here," was Wong's answer, and the Cloak carried him over the golden threshold.

Stephen was pretty sure he owed them both an apology, but why he did was hard to remember. He'd figure it out after he got some sleep.

And indeed, the moment his body hit a bed, before even a medic had come to look him over, Stephen was already asleep, a loyal cloak over his form and a stoic, protective librarian standing nearby.