#did not realize you had an I Don’t Recall permit. pass. whatever

[greelin]

parents will straight up traumatize you then be like “well i don’t remember saying/doing that.” ok nvm then. none of it happened. i’m good now. We’re good. thankyou for setting the record straight👍 *GRITS MY TEETH SO HARD THEY SHATTER*

[jojoboisimagines]

Josuke x Reader /// Promposal /// Chapter 1

It all started by him simply wanting to ask you a question

One question.

Shouldn’t be that hard, right? Yet the very thought made him so frightful. His hands would shake and he near damn thought he would’ve pissed himself had he accidentally uttered the words at the wrong time and you rejected him because of it.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. 

Though, him getting this nervous was new to everyone, even himself.

To think you would have his heart pounding this much in a 3 week timespan. Did you plan this? Or maybe he was just overthinking this again..

All these sudden thoughts flooding in, Josuke couldn’t help but to remember when he even first laid eyes on you.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

He was still brushing his pompadour on the walk to school. The teenager had hoped no one he knew would pass by and see him with his hair so unkempt. He was already running late, more than usual. Second period would be starting by the time he got there. Good enough, he thought.

Skipping class wasn’t unusual for him. He already looked like a delinquent to most people, might as well act like one when its convenient. That said, he still took his classes seriously enough to get by. Well, all except math and English.

Budogaoka High slowly came into his eyesight. Knowing that his friends (or fangirls) would try to strike a conversation once he got into the area, he gave his hair a couple of more touchups before putting his brush in his bag. In the distance, he could already see Okuyasu waiting for him on the sidewalk.

A smile had already came on his lips as he approached his best friend. “What’s up? Sorry for making you wait so long. Where’s Koichi?"

Okuyasu rubbed his neck as he turned to him, giving an eye roll. “Ya know how he gets. Didn’t bother waiting on you because he didn’t wanna be late. I don’t understand whats his obsession with getting ‘honor roll’ and ‘perfect attendance’ crap.”

“You’re one to talk.” Josuke pointed out, the both of them having classes that they were clearly failing.

“I’m just sayin’.” His friend pursed his lips in response to that comment. “Not like its the end of the world if he misses one or two classes.”

Josuke scoffed, and the two began to walk inside of the building.

They took their time getting there, in no rush since they were already late. Better to come in when the second period starts than interrupt the class, was their logic. There were murmurings in the now full classroom, sounding like they were mostly around the same topic. The class hadn’t been this lively since the last time there was a school fight. The boys showed no interest in such a topic (except wanting to at least overhear if there was a winner) and silently took their seats.

Josuke already had brought a hand to cup his face, bored and his eyes half-lidded, threatening to close when the lecture would start.

“Alright alright everyone, settle down.” The teacher commanded. “We have a new student today.”

‘So that's what this is about.’ The teen would lazily raise an eyebrow.

“Go ahead and come in, Ms. (L/N).”

A heel’s clack against the marble floor echoed. 

You had proudly strutted into the room, eyes looking focused in a no-nonsense manner. At this rate, only a hand on your hip would promote more sass. You placed a (h/c) strand of hair behind your ear as you turned to face the class.

Now this was something to wake up for.

‘Heels?’ Josuke thought. ‘That’s definitely not allowed here. At least not during regular class hours. Are they out of their mind?’

“(L/N)-san, please introduce yourself.”

Instead of starting off with speaking, you turned around and showed off your neat handwriting with a signature of your name.

The class stared, in a mix of awe and confusion.

They realized you weren’t Japanese. As if looking different wasn’t already enough proof.

You gave a bow to the class, with the majority still staring at you incredulously. When you gave your introduction, you started speaking fluent Japanese, despite the clear English writing on the chalkboard.

“I am (Y/N) (L/N). It is very nice to meet you all, and I hope we can all be friends in the time I spend here. Morioh and Budogaoka High is different compared to America, but I am still getting used to it, and would be grateful if one of you would show me around.” after giving another bow, you returned to your seat. The teacher took charge again.

“(L/N)-san will be studying with us for a month. Please help her if she is struggling with any material in the class. And also (L/N)-san, you should be aware that heels are not permitted in school, you get a pass today, but this is a warning for the future of attending our school.”

You were unbothered, blankly staring and giving a nod. Sitting diagonally from Josuke’s window seat, he couldn’t help but stare.

He couldn’t deny, you were pretty cute for a foreigner. But that speech though..Your tone was like it was for a business interview. He couldn’t even recall an instance where you smiled during it. Hopefully you weren’t miserable here already. Exactly what kind of girl were you?

And that’s when you caught him staring.

He quickly pretended to look out of the window, embarrassed you had actually looked back at him while doing it. It seemed that you didn’t notice and looked ahead again. Then he resumed staring. And it happened again. And again.

He’d be lucky if this didn’t kill him by lunchtime.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Classes flew by like they were 10 hours each. 

Okuyasu was already sleeping behind Josuke. He had some nerve to be talking about Koichi earlier.

The pompadoured man could feel himself slipping as well, his pencil falling out of his grasp. He looked over to you again, taking notes as if your life depended on it.

Guess that came in handy, because the teacher had called on you to answer a problem after the resounding confusion of the rest of the class that couldn’t solve the math equation. You got up, not even a sliver of nervousness could be seen in you as you practically floated towards the board.

‘Poor thing, the teacher didn’t have to do her like that,’ Josuke thought.

It took you a second before you started writing. At first you look just as confused as everyone else, nearly showing a little bit of emotion on your face as you slightly scrunched your nose. You slowly began to work out the equation on the board.

There were murmurs once again from behind you, likely assumptions about your intelligence just because you were new here. Though those mouths were quickly shut as you stood aside and showed your work on the board.

Josuke suddenly wasn't sleepy anymore.

"Very well done, (L/N)-san." The teacher acknowledged you. You simply nodded again, going back to your seat.

The whole class was staring at you now. Some in surprise, others in disgust.

Josuke however, didn't quite know how to feel about it. He knew one thing though.

Him being in this class all semester and not knowing what's going on compared to whatever that just was, was pretty impressive.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Thank God its finally lunchtime, I was about to lose my mind in there!" Okuyasu began to chow down on his meal from St. Gentleman's like there was no tomorrow.

"At least you were asleep for most of it." Josuke chuckled. 

The two were silent at the table for a while after that, both of them eating their lunch. Koichi soon joined and greeted the both of them, barely getting acknowledged because of how good the food was to the two taller boys.

Okuyasu spotted you eating alone at a lunch table nearby. You seemed pretty content with being alone, peacefully eating your food out of a surprisingly girly lunchbox. Before a group of girls surrounded you, anyway.

The teen scoffed. "What a freaking showoff. I bet the only reason she came here was because of some superiority complex or some shit." He gave a more aggressive bite this time.

"Okuyasu, don't be like that." Koichi scolded him. "It's not like you know her personally."

A grunt came out of him. "The chick near damn did a somersault during gym class, and you're tellin' me that's not showing off?"

"..Well, I guess you have a point with that one."

"Look," Josuke intervened. "At least she's hauled away those girls that always try to flood our lunch table. That's a good thing at least, right?"

Koichi and Okuyasu couldn't help but agree there. They did get annoying.

"She's gonna be gone in a month anyway, right? There's nothing to complain about." He added.

"Tch, yeah right! I caught you makin' goo-goo eyes at her!" Okuyasu accused, pointing right at his friend. The man's face threatened to glow red at that assumption.

"W-what?! I totally did not!"

"Yeah-huh! You saw it too, right Koichi? Once she was jumpin' all in the air in P.E, he totally fell in love!" He teased, chuckling all the way through. Koichi was hesitant to nod, not knowing how their friend would react .

"Okuyasu!" The teen stood up from his chair.

You had looked over at the strange trio when that happened, ignoring the questions being asked toward you by the girls in that moment.

The two of you locked eyes, making Josuke realize maybe he was being too dramatic. A faint blush spread across his cheeks and he quickly sat back down.

His friend practically hollered in laughter as he saw his red face. Oh boy, he would be teased until the end of the day now. Maybe even the whole week.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Okay, maybe I do like her. Just...just a little bit though." He made a pinching gesture with his fingers. "I barely even know her, so it's not like it matters." He protested, trying to make the other two wave off the situation. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. They had already cornered him in the hallway after school, so there was no turning back now.

"I'm not even gonna lie, she is pretty cute. If only she weren't such a show-off, I'd have gone for her first." Okuyasu commented, hand placed around his chin.

"Not helping, dude."

"Alright alright. But like bro, you're Josuke. You already have chicks surrounding you. So just...do what you always do."

"I'm not sure it's that simple. Otherwise she probably would've come to me first." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. The teen barely even talked to the girls who liked him outside of a "good morning" or "have a nice day".

Contrary to what most people thought, he actually hasn't started dating yet. Actually being on the other side of a confession would be completely new to him.

"First things first," Koichi said. "You should talk to her. That's a good start instead of confessing right away."

Josuke paused for a second, but nodded. It was worth a shot.

"Look, she's coming to her locker!" It was close to the classroom. You hadn't noticed the trio, who had now hid around the nearest corner.

Except Josuke, who was pushed out into the open hallway. He's the one who had to do the talking after all. The pompadoured man exhaled, and went over what he was going to say in his head before mustering up the courage to walk over.

Closing your locker, you almost jumped him being right behind it. You hadn't even remembered his name, but you recognized him from your class. 'God he's tall', you thought.

"Um..hi. I'm Higashikata Josuke. I'm sure you know me from class and that um... outburst from earlier."

Oh god, this was awkward already.

"But um…! If you need anything, just ask, and I'm your guy. I could also walk you home if you want. I know Morioh's kinda small, but it's still easy to get lost in, so I can direct you."

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment. Koichi and Okuyasu were praying he didn't mess this up.

"It's nice to meet you, Higashikata-san. I'm flattered you want to walk me home, but I think I'll be fine. Thank you for the offer though." You put the rest of your books away, and swayed your backpack over your shoulder as you walked right past him. Your heels could be heard even as your distance from him got farther and farther.

The teen just stood there, eyes slightly widened. His two friends grimacing as they witnessed what happened.

It wasn't a rejection per se, yet it still felt odd. Like you were going out of your way to end the conversation.

..he shouldn't have offered to walk you home, should he?

[archived-mononokeland]

ask : Hi! I just read the Levi Hanahaki story and I loved it, but the ending made me sad. Would you maybe be interested in writing a part 2 where he or another brother visits to see why she didn’t go back to the exchange program, and he finds her coughing up flowers? Thank you!

sorry for taking so long, here it is! the good ending to patch up after the last one. i didn’t write it until what i wanted to be the end, but you know the feeling when you’ve written until 2000+ words and you still don’t know what you’re doing and you want it to end? yeah. please enjoy, though!

warning: blood, hanahaki

“ i’m here. “

“You’ve been here a while now, Leviathan.”

The words of Diavolo hooked the demon back to reality. Emitting a small, slightly uncomfortable hum, he looked away, “Sorry, you probably don’t want a yucky otaku like me around. . .”

The Demon King laughs, booming the otherwise empty room. “Nonsense, I quite enjoy your company. I’m very invested in the human culture you’ve became a fan of.”

Levi’s mouth opened to a retort, only to freeze and opt to grumble to the side instead. Silence pass, as every now and then Levi checks his D.D.D. and his foot taps in rhythmic beats onto the floor.

Slowly, a small groan sounded from him, “Ugh, seriously, how long is the human gonna take?”

He turned his head to Diavolo, who seems slightly more serious than usual. The latter held back a sigh, “Perhaps you should go back to the House of Lamentation. Your brothers’ve already left, so you should too. I’ll tell Lucifer of any news regarding them.”

Despite worded like a suggestion, Leviathan knew it was more or less an order. With a soft puff of air, the demon pocketed his D.D.D. “. . .Alright, I will. Uhm—thanks, I guess.”

The easygoing smile morphed its way to Diavolo’s face once again, “It’s not a problem. Goodnight, Leviathan.”

“G’night. . .”

The steps of the demon brother soon faded outside the room, until it wasn’t heard. The smile on Diavolo’s face fell in an instant. With a sigh and ever so slightly narrowed eyes, he took out his own D.D.D.

Diavolo: Barbatos.

Barbatos: Yes, my lord?

Diavolo: Trace back the invite letter sent to the human.

Barbatos: Of course.

And with that, he shut back his device and pocketed it. Unreadable eyes looked out the balcony of the student council room. Devildom—the land he’d supposedly rule—spread with flickering lights, all swishing underneath Diavolo.

It’s a sight you’d wish to see, really.

[ ❀ ]

It’s been two days since Leviathan waited until the hour of midnight for you. On the downside, you still haven’t showed up. On the bright side, a council meeting was called, and there’s a little ray of hope that the topic was you.

But—

“They have decided not to join this year’s exchange program.”

The council room, the one that all the demons’ve familiarized themselves for quite some time, suddenly seemed quite cold. As if a heavy blanket fell upon them at once. For a few moments, none spoke.

“. . .Huh. . ? Why?” Levi was the first one to speak up, brash, but there’s a trace of self-restraint, “Why didn’t they come this year?”

The air hung over once more, before Diavolo hummed lowly, a serious expression on his face, “It was at a short notice, but they informed us that they won’t be joining. Personal problems.”

Perhaps it was covered expertly, but the Demon King himself seemed off-put by his own statement. True—you sent a message through your D.D.D. when he asked of you. Barbatos’ expression is perfectly clear as well, but the tension was present as ever.

“. . .I assume that is all.” Lucifer said, once more breaking the silence. Even if his words sounded unfazed, the noticeable crease on his brows was evident. With a heavy breath, Diavolo nodded, and called the meeting over.

No one said a word walking home.

The tense air followed the brothers, even later until dinner, The suffocating aura was insufferable, and somehow decreased just a bit as Levi lightly slammed on the table with a groan, “I don’t get it, why didn’t they go back?!”

And just with that, he spoke everyone’s thoughts.

Yes, they all knew they had to respect your wishes. And they did try. But, it’d be a lie to say that they aren’t and can’t be selfish at this moment—being demons just adds to the equation a bit. But they were still very close to you, how could they not?

All clanking of utensils on plates stopped. Lucifer opened his mouth to explain, but shut it back up once realized he couldn’t say anything. But, even so. . . “Leviathan. . .” What came out was a sympathetic croak, though he tried to hide it with a cough.

Dinner went by in a fly.

The third brother groaned as he entered his room, immediately making a zip-line to his computer. None of his games had any events, so he had free time to himself, if not grinding or anything like that. Of all the times. . .

He reached for his D.D.D. and opened the chat. His fingers tapped away mindlessly to yours and his—almost by reflex. A part of him scolded himself for expecting maybe, just maybe, a new text from you saying it was a joke and that you’d come tomorrow.

But of course it never came.

Even just looking at your past texts—it stirs something he can’t name inside him. His stomach is now a blackhole, the rhythmic beats of his heart increases, and he felt. . .bittersweet happiness.

His mind racked up a storm filled with emotions—emotions he felt too tired and confused to deal with. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours, but Levi finally snapped himself out of it, and opened the brothers’ chatroom.

He can’t take it, he can’t take it, he can’t—

Leviathan: I srsly can’t take it anymore..!

Leviathan: istg I need to see the human and ask everything!!

The fingers tapped away on its own, and he knew there’s a chance of consequences with his words. But that didn’t matter; not a lot did at the moment. Soon, dots appeared from his other brothers. . .

Beelzebub: Levi. . .

Lucifer: . . .I understand the turmoil you must be going through right now, but. . .

Lucifer: . . .I don’t think I can permit that.

Satan: You’re too rough.

He watched the texts go by, caring little to none as his own attention drifts away. No doubt Lucifer won’t let me go to the human world, he thought, absentmindedly opening a game on his computer, but maybe. . .I can just. . .

He mulls over the possibility in his mind. Maybe this stunt was a bit too much compared to the others—but he’d be willing to take the punishment. Eyes finally focusing, they turn attention back to the D.D.D., the chat.

Beelzebub: Levi? You there?

Leviathan: . . .

Leviathan: Yeah. I’m fine, sorry, forget all of this.

It’s very selfish and foolish of him—but there’s a reason he’s a demon.

[ ❀ ]

He didn’t miss the occasional glances directed at him next breakfast.

The air was almost as miserable as yesterday. Almost, because the time set apart since the day before made somewhat of a difference. Even so, breakfast didn’t resume with its normal banter; mostly just a sentence exchanged or two.

Despite that, deep inside Leviathan was a secret flame of hope and determination. It’s small—perhaps just a match, but it was enough.

Levi’s mind only came to attention nearing the end of the student council meeting. There wasn’t much to discuss—and he wouldn’t have been there had it not been for his plan—but that was to be expected. It was the beginning of the year, but thankfully, Diavolo’s token the measure to ease in their work due to the recent news.

While the meeting was reaching to its end, Levi still continued to play his games on his D.D.D., as he has for a while now. The words from Diavolo saying the meeting ended, Leviathan feigned a sigh and shut his device off, and set it on the table. Then, pretending to be clueless, leaves the room with everyone else.

He’s not certain if everyone didn’t notice. After all, he isn’t the slickest demon—and with a brother like Satan and Lucifer, he won’t put it past them. Well, if they did, they didn’t say anything.  But now, he’ll play a game of pretend.

He spent a few dozen minutes in the cafeteria. Not to eat, but to just sit down and play his games on another device. It’s a pain to not be having his D.D.D., but the ends justify the means.

Then, he slid it back to his pocket and made his way back to the student council room, and hoped that Lucifer wasn’t unexpectedly still there (he was on cooking duty, if Levi recalled correctly). Fortunately, when he opened the door, he wasn’t, and only Diavolo stood there, sorting some papers.

“’M sorry,” even if he did plan all this out, his pretend-apology didn’t go farther than a mumble, “Left my D.D.D. here. . .”

Diavolo merely laughed and waved a dismissive hand at him, “It’s quite fine. Go ahead.”

With slow, antsy steps, he made his way to his chair with the device in front of it. Even though he had time, he’s still mulling over what he could possibly word it to Diavolo as. Maybe this was a bad idea—

“You want to go to the human world, don’t you.”

The question brought heaps of confusion and bafflement to Leviathan. Yes, he was standing there for maybe long enough, but Diavolo just guessed it? He pocketed his D.D.D. with a gulp, “Uhm. . .”

Words escape him, currently, but Diavolo soon cut off whatever he wanted to say in his head by turning around and meeting his gaze. His face is unreadable, both showing good nor bad reactions, and his usual friendly smile long gone.

“And I assume this was without Lucifer’s permission?”

“. . .Yes.”

The silence seems to stretch at cruelty’s will, twisting and churning at his guts. Diavolo’s eyes remained a mystery, until a laugh erupted from him. But not in an actual, comedic sense; more of languid than anything.

“You’re determined, aren’t you?”

“O-Of course. . .”

And the silence continues. Leviathan’s darting eyes to the other demon told him that he was studying him, observing him. As if there was a reaction, an attidude, action to indicate to him. . .something. Something he doesn’t know. And suddenly, the eyes felt heavy upon him.

“. . .How curious. Very well,” Diavolo broke the ringing quiet with a low mumble, barely audible, along with the tapping of his nails on the table, “I’ll allow you.”

“. . .Huh?”

“I’ll allow you to go to the human world.”

The words—so did everything else—seemed like buzzing for a moment, before it all cleared.Emotions rushed through the floodgates; relief, confusion, shock, all the likes. “But—wh-why would. . .”

He decided not to push his luck by asking.

Diavolo remained unwavered and certain, a smile now pulling his lips by anything than genuine emotions it feels. “Don’t tell Lucifer. I’ll open the portal soon, Levi.”

Reality was fuzzy and unbelievable. But even so, Levi tried to hold his ground and remain still as the demon king set up the transport to the human world above. He’s going to see you! Anxiety and relief peacefully clashed in himself on which he feels more, but—he did his best to ignore it.

Once the portal was up, all it took was a flicker, and he’s gone.

[ ❀ ]

Oh how you loathed it.

Spitting and choking metal-flavored flowers weren’t your ideal schedulings—and you’d really prefer if it wasn’t. They make for pretty decorations if one were to put it in a pot, if the person was able to ignore the origins and how it was, more or less, what they’d call memento mori.

You hope they’ll live after you die; despite how much you despise the fluttering petals.

A bitter reminder, really, that you litter your house with vases filled with them. Your estate smelled a mix of several scents, and also painted with their colors. Maybe this was your last highlight of life in the current time.

But all that beauty didn’t make up for you, curling up in the middle of the hallway, using your clutches to the wall as your only support. Blood didn’t even wash up from your previous shirts—you’d guessed.

And one by one, the floral beauty fell.

The world, your house, blurred. Your hearing’s long gone, replaced by constant, grating ringing. It didn’t matter anymore, not when they were blotches of colors and screeches, fading in and out from darkness. Maybe, if you just—

“——!”

Your body trembled, the bones in your body feeling brittle enough to crumble. Who’s that. . .? A savior? Maybe an angel, seeing your soul off? The next-door neighbor who heard something?

Your mind scrambled to scream, beg, for any kind of help to pull you out of the ripping gash in your throat. Whether it came out as you wanted, or just a gravel of a groan came out, you never knew.

You never knew, for the world darkened.

[ ❀ ]

Beeping.

Incessant rhythmic beeps were muffled out, but faintly audible. Labored breaths filled the room, as a hand held yours. Warm. It felt warm, and nice, and safe, despite you walking your way slowly to death’s door.

The human body was weak, and Leviathan cursed at it for being so. Even if he did know any healing magic, he’d been too paranoid to tinker with the workings of your health. And so, the two of you were sent to a hospital.

It’s been about almost a day. He hopes anyone back in Devildom didn’t search for him—for the reveal of his whereabouts would cause trouble. And with the state of his mental mind. . .he felt he’d go insane.

But slowly, your eyes broke open a crack.

A low croaky groan was what drew the demon’s attention, clutching tighter at your hand as his head darted to look over you. He called your name desperately, weakly, hoping it to be a mantra that ensured you were alive.

“—! Are you okay. .?!”

Another groan resurfaced, and finally, you’re back to the land of the living. But to your side, you found, Leviathan.

You shove the flowers down for a moment.

“L-Lev. . .?”

Your voice felt fresh and unused. But for now, you vaguely squeezed your hand in his. You’re fine, you’re okay, you’re here; that’s what he needed to know. The fact if you actually were or not came second.

“Where. . .are we. . .?”

Your vision blurred in and out of being visible for you to actually discern anything. But for now, you could see mostly white.

“We’re in a human hospital.”

Hospital. Passing out. . .Right.

“And why. . .are you h-here?”

You couldn’t see it—he hoped you didn’t, at that—but Levi’s expression wavered, as his body became more awkward and stern. He tossed his glances to the side, “I. . .I c-came to see you, o-of course. I can’t just let you curl up and. . .die, for all I know.”

You pursed your lips.

“. . .Did the doctors diagnose me with anything?” Fear washed over you as your voice drops to a whisper; a shaky, wavering, quiet whisper.

If he found out. . .that he was a part of the cause. . . what would. . .?

Levi took a deep breath and his eyes shifted to the side. Then to you. “Yeah.” He replied, “. . .It was hard to find out cause there weren’t many cases, but. . . Hanahaki, r-right?”

. . .Oh.

“Did they,” you gulped the lump in your throat, “Did they tell you what that means. .?”

“. . .Yes.” The black hole in your stomach dug deeper and deeper in— “Why didn’t you tell me? A-Am I. . .unreliable to you. . .?”

His voice was only a whisper, but it echoed through your heart until it broke. “N-No, of course you’re reliable. . .! I just. . .” Your eyes shifted away to your hands, which clutched at the sheets of your bed, “. . .I didn’t want to worry you.”

“You were dying, for goodness sake! Worrying me shouldn’t—sh-shouldn’t. . .” his voice died like a flame, as his pitiful eyes spoke to you instead. “. . .Who’s the person?”

“Huh?”

“Who’s the person you. . . had f-feelings for?”

You took a sharp, silent breath. He didn’t know; and you weren’t sure if he should know. But. . .being here, with Leviathan in front of you made you feel vulnerable so any lie you told would just feel useless. But—he’d think it was his fault. His fault for not returning your feelings. Technically speaking, it was, but it’s not like he could help it—force love would hurt you more than anything.

“. . .” You spent your time, fading out of reality to weigh your options in silence. Levi kept silent as well, patient in hearing your answer. “. . .Y-You. . .”

You almost wished he didn’t hear that right after it came out your mouth—maybe your voice was soft enough so he didn’t hear it. But the quiet gasp heard, the way his eyes widened in utter bafflement, the way his face paled a thousand shades, it all betrayed your wish.

“I. . .I—“

“It’s not your fault. . .!” You said before the thoughts in him spiral down. Your hand flew from the bed sheets to his hand, squeezing it tightly despite how much your heart churned at the action, “It’s. . .It can never be your fault. I couldn’t. . .just wish for you to fall for me like that. And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. . .”

And once again, silence ruled the room.

You couldn’t bare to look into his eyes—not after the hurt overflowing them. A part of you silently wished that he didn’t come into your house at that moment—and just let you decay like the flowers you racked up. But then again, it’s selfish, for you to deny him seeing you again. It’s selfish, for you to give the cold treatment you had, only for him to find out you were dead.

You wondered who’d hurt more.

“. . .” You finally looked up at Leviathan’s eyes, barely visible from his hair as his head was angled down. Silent, deep in thought. You were about to shift your gaze back, until— “. . .Actually, I. . .have a confession m-myself. . .”

A respond never came, you just looked longingly for his continuation.

“I d-don’t know what love feels like; I’m not Asmo. All I’ve seen are, u-uhm, romance and harem animes. But. . .” He took a deep breath, “Ever since you left, I feel. . .overwhelmingly sad. A-And it’s not a friend thing—I don’t think, but—when I look back at everything, it. . .it makes me happy beyond belief. I want to be there with you, b-by your side, a-and. . .a-and. . .”

“I think. . .I love you.”

The moment those words got out his tongue, a deep, bellowing gasp of air ripped itself from your lungs—as if you’ve been underwater and finally got a breath of air. Your chest, your heart, your throat—the weigh on them ever since the flowers sprouted all lifted and wilted, one by one by one—until it was all gone.

“—?!”

Your name said on Levi’s tongue was foreign to you—for a second. Until with one last gasp of air, your breathing normalized and slowed. With glossy vision, you looked over at the panicked demon beside you, shooting a gentle, calming smile, “I. . .I’m fine, Lev.”

“Are you. . .?! You could be—“

“Lev.” Your soft calling of his name stopped him. “I think. . .I’m cured.���

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Ten

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of dubious medical procedures. Stay safe!]

Saying that she was in over her head would imply that, at some juncture, she had not been. Backhand couldn't recall a time when she hadn't been struggling to reach the damn surface. 

  There was so much. An entire underground compound, sprawling and winding like a rabbit warren, filled with synths and the scientists who seemed to style themselves as their betters. 

  Shaun had been the worst part about it all, if she was honest. The knowledge that it hadn't been ten years she had lost, but sixty ...and the now-elderly Shaun's bemusement at her emotional response to the child synth he had been leading her across the Commonwealth with was like a slap in the face. 

  The fact that he had the gall to suggest that she should take over the Institute once he had passed on was infuriating in its own right. Vega wanted nothing to do with any of this. She obliged him to the bare minimum. He wouldn't permit her to leave until she fully took in ' the wonders of the Institute ', everything that 'he' had built, so it was with a reluctant heart that Backhand agreed to think about the choice.

  She didn't hate the Institute. It was odd to realize that, but at the end of the day what she truly hated was the way Shaun had continued to hoard all of the advancements they had made. The lives that could have been saved, the differences he could have made in the Commonwealth-!

  Time passed strangely away from the reign of celestial bodies, simply separated into 'work cycles'. 

  Vega apparently spent the entirety of her first work cycle after arrival watching synths be created, the woman observing perfect bodies emerging disoriented from their vat of red liquid. The scientists overseeing the operation, after briefly introducing themselves, all but ignored her. For that she was grateful, because the process was equal parts fascinating and horrifying in its minutiae. 

  "Hello." One newly-formed synth said, sounding dazed when they addressed her. "I'm...new here?"

  She wanted to cry at how confused the synth looked, she wanted to cry because she knew the life they would have down here. She didn't even have the chance to offer them a word of encouragement before they were spirited away to be properly calibrated.

  Shaun came across her in the Robotics lab, her arms wrapped around her knees as she just... stared . "Ah, Mother. You will tax yourself mentally if you keep this up." Her son, who was now older than her by over forty years, scolded her in that insincere, saccharine manner. Backhand was reminded of Nate every time she heard Shaun speak. Even though he couldn't possibly have any memories of his father, his patronizing tone reeked of the casual superiority Nate had displayed in and out of the courtroom. "I have brought one of our coursers to escort you back to your room, Mother. If you would please cooperate with him."

  "Hello ma'am." The courser intoned as she looked up. "I am X6-88. It is an honor to meet the woman who helped to create Father." He was tall and dark-skinned with narrow shoulders, his body wholly sheathed in the courser uniform to mask whatever bulk he might have. He wore mirrored sunglasses, even down here. 

  Backhand thought of the courser she had to kill to tear the chip out of it and her heart dropped. X6 must know about the courser. What if they had been friends? She hesitated on that thought. Were the synths down here even permitted to form those sorts of attachments? Curie, Sturges and Nick were her only real exposure to non-hostile synths, and all of them had their own personalities, likes and dislikes. Well, Sturges wasn't entirely certain as to whether he was a synth or not, but he believed he was and that was good enough for Vega. Did synths who were still under Institute programming actually have the capacity to create those bonds with one another?

  "X6-88 is one of our finest coursers. Due to your combat history and... affinity for getting into scuffles, I assumed being in the presence of another combat-minded individual would help to put you at ease." Shaun's shrug was almost uncouth , as if he didn't particularly believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Backhand knew that the real reason he was giving a courser babysitter duty was because he didn't trust her not to meddle where she shouldn't. "The majority of the Institute is dedicated to much more lofty goals than synth retention, but why wear out the wrench with a job the hammer can perform?"

  Backhand slowly got to her feet. "Very kind of you to think of my needs." She remarked, praying her voice wasn't too flat. She had yet to get used to how Shaun spoke to the synths. Or rather, how he spoke around them. Despite his insistence that they call him Father, the elderly man treated them like objects. Tools , or furniture items. These were living, breathing, thinking beings, reduced down to nothing more than careless analogies of hammer, wrench and screwdriver. It was heartbreaking. 

  Shaun simply inclined his head, the smile on his face more of a simper. "X6, I expect you to treat my mother with the utmost courtesy. She is, after all, the future of the Institute. During the work cycles following her rest, please escort her around the facility." 

  "Of course, Father." X6 replied immediately, his face and tone entirely devoid of emotion. "If you'll follow me, ma'am."

  Backhand obediently followed X6 back out of the manufacturing laboratory, quickening her steps so she could keep up with the courser. He seemed to realize his legs were longer than hers a split second before she drew up alongside him, the synth slowing abruptly. Backhand ended up in front of him by half a step, chuckling a little as she paused and then fell in beside him.

  "Sorry, my fault." She apologized. 

  X6-88 was silent for a moment, and then muttered, "that is foolish, ma'am. Why would you be sorry about something you have no control over?" Backhand hummed, trying to think of a way to explain. X6 quickly tacked on, "not that I'm questioning you, ma'am. I know questions are unwelcome."

  Vega tilted her head, giving the man a confused look. "Unwelcome?"

  "Father has instructed us not to ask questions. He says they will disrupt you settling in." The courser answered bluntly. 

  Backhand laughed, but the noise had no humor. "I've been disrupted for months , X6-88. You can ask me whatever you like."

  "How did you do it?" X6-88 whirled on her, his tone and posture suddenly hostile. "Z2-47 was incredibly skilled. Deadly. Effective. And yet you killed him."

  Backhand nodded slowly, and she heard X6's gloves squeak with how hard he clenched his fists. 

  " How ." The courser demanded.

  "I...I don't know if I'll be able to explain it in a way you can understand." Backhand replied quietly. "Was Z2 one of your friends?"

  "I-!" X6 jerked to a halt, seeming to realize that he had raised his voice. "My apologies if I have given you the wrong impression, ma'am. I merely sought to...find the weakness you must have exploited." He practically growled through his teeth, "I meant no offense."

  "No no, you didn't offend me at all." Vega said sincerely, nearly putting her hand on his arm in a comforting manner before she reined herself in. "It's just not a conversation I would want other people to hear. Um, is my room…?"

  "We only have a short ways to go. You will explain it to me there?" X6-88 asked curtly.

  "I'll do my level best." The longest seconds in the history of man slipped by as the courser studied her from behind those sunglasses. "It's not that I doubt your intelligence or anything, I'd be an idiot to doubt your intelligence." Vega tried to elaborate after the silence grew uncomfortable. "I just don't know if I'll be able to...get the story to make sense."

  "You are allowed to do as you please, ma'am." X6 said, his voice back to that monotone. 

  Backhand shook her head ruefully. "Never mind. C'mon, before somebody gets uptight that you're looming over me."

  The courser took a hearty step back at that, his brow furrowing. "It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable, ma'am." 

  "X6, I was in the army. You're going to have to do a lot more than that to make me uncomfortable. I'm more concerned about what someone might do to you . You know, if they think you're trying to threaten me."

  X6-88 was silent for the remainder of the walk to her quarters, which turned out to be just as sterile as everywhere else. Backhand felt extremely awkward, afraid that she would get dirt on the pristine white furniture.

  She settled gingerly into one of the chairs, gesturing to indicate that X6 should sit as well. He did so after a moment, perched on the very edge of the chair and leaning towards her. 

  Vega clasped her hands in her lap. "X6, has there ever been anyone in your life that you wanted to protect?"

  The courser responded without hesitation. "G5-19." Backhand squinted, trying to figure out why she knew that particular--oh. Oh . But X6 wasn't done. "They were efficient at performing their tasks. Helpful. Useful. An asset to the Institute." He tilted his head at her. "And weak. Poor at combat."

  "You would have done anything to keep them safe?"

  "I did everything that I could." X6-88 said sharply. "I was ineffective in the end, however."

  "Take that feeling and multiply it tenfold, and that's how I felt about Shaun. I knew that I would do everything I could to get my child back. Even if it meant I would have to take down an Institute murder machine." Backhand explained. "There was nothing to exploit, I promise. Just a sad mom's desperation to find her son. Z2-47 gave as good as he got." 

  "I find it very difficult to believe that you employed no underhanded tactics." X6 remarked. "G5 was taken via the use of a pulse grenade, so I assume you must have used something similar."

  "A pulse grenade?" Backhand asked incredulously. "Who the hell were you fighting? "

  "It was a group of raiders that found one of our salvage teams. I was away on another assignment, so I was not physically present." X6's hands gripped down on his thighs. "Had I been there, I assure you things would have played out differently." He muttered.

  "Oh no." Backhand felt a rush of sorrow, and then felt ridiculous. Untold hours ago, she had been standing in Sanctuary Hills, certain that the relay would do absolutely nothing and she would be back to square one. And yet here she was, inside the Institute, listening to a courser talking about losing someone. 

  "I am under the impression that the raiders must have tortured and killed her. Even if she did not die immediately, there is no possibility that someone as weak as her survived on the surface for very long." If Backhand didn't know better, she would have sworn that he sounded grieved. "I asked to be spinally recalibrated and have her memory removed from my processes but my request was denied."

  "Why would you want to-"

  "G5-19 is a distraction." X6-88 growled. "As a courser, I am not permitted distractions."

  "But they denied your request." Backhand repeated.

  "Correct, ma'am."

  "I don't understand why they would say you can't have distractions but then also refuse to remove them." The woman mused, resting her chin in her hand as she thought. "What's the spinal calibration process like?"

  "All synthetic cerebrospinal fluid is drained from the body, wiped of signature and then reinserted via a series of lumbar, thoracic and cervical injections." X6-88 elaborated curtly. "Posture is also corrected during the procedure, as the vertebrae must be properly aligned in order for the fluid to redistribute as intended."

  Vega got a little queasy at his description. "I'm going to assume this isn't a painless undertaking?"

  "It is extremely painful." X6's tone was flat, giving no indication of his feelings on the matter. 

  "But you would have gone through that, just to-"

  "I am an effective instrument of the Institute. If I remove distractions, I am even more effective." X6 interrupted her. "G5-19's memory does not make me more effective. Therefore it is useless to cling to it. I made the mistake of mentioning how distracting I found their memory, and Dr. Ayo wished to study the effects over a period of time. So my request was denied." The leather of his uniform made a soft noise as he shifted in the seat. "I do not prefer one over the other, but if I am not as sharp as possible, there is always an enemy willing to exploit that crack in my armor."

  Vega extended a hand and the courser stared down at it blankly. "May I?" The young woman asked, deliberately keeping her voice even and soft. X6 glanced at her over the tops of those impregnable sunglasses and Backhand was startled to see that his eyes were in fact a light, steely gray.

  "Why?" The synth queried.

  "I'm a tactile person. A lot of times I feel like it's easier to make my point if I'm connected to the person I'm speaking with."

  "I am a tactile learner as well," was all he said in reply. X6-88 didn't move, warily watching her. 

  Backhand relented after a moment, clasping her hands in her lap once more. "I just want you to know that sometimes memories aren't a bad thing, or a distraction. Like with me. Memories were all I had to get me here." She explained pragmatically. "They were my sole, driving force. I was going to get my baby back."

  "Now that you're here, and you can see all the wonders of the Institute firsthand, was it worth it?" X6-88 asked sharply. "Or would it have been better if you woke up without recollection, just another nameless Vault dweller? Can you honestly say you're better off having been reunited with your son?" He challenged her, " especially since you were under the impression that he was still a child via the ruse facilitated by Kellogg and S9-23?"

  Backhand, reeling from the courser's impromptu interrogation, nearly missed the flicker of confusion that twisted his features. She tried to formulate a response, wondering all the while why he was so bent out of shape over her being tricked.

  "I...I meant no offense, ma'am." He said slowly before she could reply. "I am not supposed to ask questions. Why would I ask so many?" He seemed troubled, muttering about needing a full calibration as, " this is getting out of hand ."

  "Look," Backhand said finally, corralling her thoughts into some semblance of order. "I can admit that I don't have all the answers. Despite what every human down here says, we're not actually all-knowing beings. But if you have questions, questions that other people can't or won't answer, I can always take a crack at 'em." She offered.

  "Ma'am, are you implying that our brilliant minds may be keeping information from me?" X6-88 said, a slight uptick in his tone indicating his incredulity.

  Vega held up her hands in an attempt to appease the courser. "Whoa whoa, I'm not saying anything like that. I'm just saying that if you feel like you're not getting the full story, you can ask me. After all, I'm a wellspring of firsthand pre-war knowledge." Her smile turned wry as she recalled Danse's words to her. "A relic, if you will."

  …

  X6-88's first question opened as a statement, oddly enough. "You do not like it down here." The courser observed as he watched her. 

  He had been like a dubiously-benevolent shadow throughout her stay, the work cycles ticking away as she soaked up the Institute's fluorescent ambiance like a sponge. "You're right." Backhand replied. No use denying it . "I don't."

  "Why not?" 

  She leaned silently on the railing overlooking the atrium for several long minutes. "I don't feel like I deserve it, I guess." She admitted softly. "I'm not made for a place like this. Hell, I didn't even feel like I deserved my spot in the Vault. Only reason I went was because of Shaun."

  "You would have died were it not for the obligation you felt towards your offspring?"

  "Well, when you put it like that …" Backhand chuckled sadly. "In a way, yes."

  "Explain."

  "I'm not a good person, X6. Back in the war, I...there's stuff I'm not proud of. I let people goad me into doing things that were out of character for me." She tried to keep it simple, a little less messy than her piecemeal recollections. "I didn't deserve to have a baby. I didn't deserve to have that second chance, that life outside the military." She stared off into space, her eyes unfocused. "I had no one else to love, so I poured all of the affection I had into caring for Shaun. I didn't have a lot after the divorce, but we had a house and food."

  "Divorce?" X6-88 sounded curious. "What were you divorced from?"

  "My husband. Shaun's father."

  "Oh, Progenitor Nathan." X6 mused. "Father has no memory of him."

  "He wouldn't. Nate wanted nothing to do with him." Vega murmured. 

  "I cannot fault him. Infants are highly unsettling." The courser said bluntly, making Backhand burst out laughing. "Ma'am, please attempt to control yourself." 

  "Of course, of course. I'm sorry, X6. I just...the way that you said it, and you being what you are, I couldn't keep my composure." The woman wheezed, grinning up at him. 

  "I'm afraid I don't understand your amusement, ma'am."

  "Well you're this deadly killing machine and yet something so innocent is something you find unnerving." 

  "I am...unused to their noise." X6-88 explained. "They are shrill. Their hunger cries are akin to torture."

  " Oh ." Backhand didn't bother trying to hide her smile. "I guess that would be a problem for you. Back before the war, there were kids everywhere . More chances for people to uh, get used to their racket."

  "That sounds like a nightmare." 

  " Everything about pre-war sounds like a nightmare to you." Backhand retorted petulantly.

  "You are correct, ma'am." X6-88's mouth curved up ever so slightly at the left corner. If she hadn't been watching, she would have missed it. "Children and heights are loathsome to me and from what I learned via browsing archival data, the pre-war world was rife with tall buildings and wailing infants." He cocked his head to look at Backhand over his sunglasses, his expression downright human . "Mankind's ivory towers and dreams of the future did them very little good."

  Backhand suddenly took note of the death grip the courser had on the railing of the balcony. 

  "G5-19 enjoyed children. She was very weak." X6 remarked reluctantly, like the words were being dragged out of him. "I still don't know what she was doing on surface detail. She had never expressed any interest in the surface. She was a simple maintenance synth."

  "I notice that you refer to her as 'she'. The rest of the coursers just call the other synths 'unit'." Backhand pointed out.

  "Another fault of the memories I am plagued by. Speech processor issues. I assign gender due to some form of...error in how I perceived her." X6 shrugged. "Doctor Ayo does not believe it is detrimental for the time being." 

  "Do you think it's because she was a real person to you?" Yikes, too direct , Backhand realized as X6-88 stiffened up. "I mean, because you got to know her. She obviously had some kind of personality that left an impression on you." She tried to amend. The courser was already in turmoil over the memories he didn't want to keep, it wasn't her place to pry.

  "She was weak." X6 seemed to default to that as a descriptor for his... friend , his brow furrowed. Backhand resigned herself to that being the end of the conversation, and then, "she was weak like you are, ma'am."

  "Like me?" The woman asked, surprised. "I don't think I understand."

  X6-88 nodded, his stony expression far from encouraging. "She wanted to help, even if it was detrimental to her. Constantly working. Truthfully, her disregard for the work cycles was what put us in touch in the first place. I was sent to find her when several jobs turned up as incomplete and I located her in a supply closet, fast asleep." He sighed heavily. "I was supposed to reprimand her and send her for recalibration. I still don't understand why I didn't. I even lied and said that I did." 

  The honesty of his admission was unsurprising to Vega; all the synths in the Institute seemed to have very few qualms about telling the truth. She imagined that must be part of their programming, so the scientists could maintain their grip on the synths that vastly outnumbered them.

  "She asked to be transferred from Facilities to Bioscience. She wanted to help, even after her request was denied. She spent all of her free time in Bioscience." His gloves squeaked on the metal bannister. "Then one day I came back from an assignment and she was...gone." He actually sounded pained now, the most emotion she had heard out of him yet. "It was a break in my routine and I do not cope well with such interruptions."

  Translation: I'm sad and I'm not allowed to be , Backhand theorized privately.

  "I would greatly appreciate it if you would not do the same." The courser said abruptly, turning to face her. "Take care of yourself, ma'am. You are, after all, the future of the Institute."

  "X6-"

  "I am being given a new assignment in the following work cycle and will no longer be responsible for you. So I will reiterate my suggestion to you." He said sternly. "Take care of yourself."

  Backhand didn't have the heart to tell the synth that a suggestion and an order were two different things. "Alright." She replied. "I'll do my best, if you promise to do the same. And I...I hope that someday you'll find that friend of yours."

  "Doubtful. But I appreciate the sentiment, ma'am." X6 inclined his head, and then departed. 

  …

  With X6 out in the field, Vega felt like she could finally get down to business. She had a veritable laundry list of to-dos, and she had no idea how long she had even been down here for. 

  There was sneaking into the old branch of Bioscience for the serum to cure Virgil. It was surprisingly simple despite the security measures, to the point where Backhand was almost suspicious .

  Then there was the holotape Sturges had given her to scan the Institute network, easily managed. " I'll be makin' copies of it. I imagine my boy Johnny D. will be mighty interested in what the suits have been up to, and then of course one for your friends in the Brotherhood ." He had informed her right before she had relayed, pressing the tape into her hands. 

  Next there was a bit of a...pet project. X6 had mentioned that his friend (alive and well, unbeknownst to him, functioning as Curie's new body) had expressed no real interest in the surface to the courser, and yet had somehow ended up on a salvage patrol. That sounded like a scheme. A well-meaning scheme. It was possible that there was a scientist sympathetic to the plight of the more self-aware synths.

  Her gentle inquiries put her back in touch with a scientist by the name of Doctor Alan Binet, whom she had met during the first work cycle she spent in the Institute. He worked in Robotics, supervising the creation of synths from the ground up.

  He was delighted to exposit upon his theories of synth cognitive capabilities. The good doctor had apparently witnessed synths experiencing REM sleep, and that fueled him to study their behavior even closer than before. Because if they could dream, why couldn't they have a soul as well?

  But strangely, he seemed adamant in the stance that he would never release the synths to the surface, stating that it was a living hellscape. Backhand couldn't exactly refute his claims either.

  Vega left Robotics stumped and defeated. If not the man who was performing social experiments with the synths, then who?

  She left it alone for the time being, moving on to her last, arguably most important objective. 

  Convincing one Doctor Madison Li to take up her Brotherhood mantle once more.

Part Eleven

[exhaustedfander]

Okay uhhh I‘m not good at giving requests. How about prinxiety and them seeing each other again after a long time! Or sth like that.😅

I had three sperate ideas for this one, but this is the one I settled on. Here’s a fluffy little human au. I’d love to hear what you think! 

a03 link

materpost link

word count: 1,638

The Best Gift

Virgil rocks on his heels, glancing at his phone. According to Roman’s text, his plane landed about fifteen minutes ago. He’d be outside to greet him any moment now, and that in itself fills Virgil with more joy than he’d felt in a while.

Roman does what he could to avoid performing in shows too far away from home. He’s always scouring for gigs in the area, or at least not too terribly far away, not exactly eager to spend long periods away from his emo nightmare. However, sometimes there are roles that Roman can’t shy away from, as much as he hates the idea of leaving Virgil, and this had been one of those times.

It isn’t as though Virgil doesn’t understand; dating a traveling actor, his boyfriend actually traveling, sometimes, isn’t something that can really come from a surprise. More than that, Virgil’s incredibly supportive of his partner. Roman’s a hell of an actor and he knows it. He deserves to grace every stage that will have him, larger ones, especially. But that doesn’t make the time apart any less difficult.

Sure, they call each other a ton, Roman insists on Facetiming nightly, and they keep in touch as best they can. But it’s never any easier, facing that empty bed at the end of the day. It can be a lot to handle, realizing audiences of strangers are being graced with Roman’s presence while Virgil is home alone eating Ramen Noodles and sulking.

It’s not as though Roman is Virgil’s entire world – he’s damn close, though. Virgil has friends he loves spending time with. He works as a freelance artist, so holing himself up at home is usually more fun than depressing, painting all day long. But god, he misses Roman when he’s away. Maybe more than he’s willing to admit, sometimes.

Three months has got to be the longest they’ve spent apart since they’ve been dating, at least as far as Virgil can remember. The gig was a role of a lifetime, Roman would’ve had to be sufficiently stupid not to take it, but it wasn’t easy on the couple. Virgil flew up to see one of Roman’s shows, and that was great, but it made going back home all the more challenging. Roman’s been gone so long, Virgil’s aching to see him, and any minute now, he’s gonna get to.

Virgil can certainly think of worse ways to spend a birthday.

“Virgil?” Virgil swivels around, grinning ear-to-ear when he sees Roman walking his way, suitcase in tow. Virgil practically sprints toward him, immediately pulled into a firm embrace the moment they make contact.

“My love, my angel, mi amour,” Roman drawls, dramatic as ever but Virgil can’t find it in himself to be irritated with him, “I missed you!” Roman gets on his tiptoes (Virgil would be lying if he said he hadn’t always found their height difference adorable) pressing their lips together soundly. If they weren’t in public, Virgil would want nothing more than to keep kissing Roman for eternity, but alas.

“I missed you too, dork,” Virgil says with an unshakable grin as they pull apart, though his hand quickly finds Roman’s free-one as they walk towards the taxis, the sound of Roman’s luggage wheeling behind them. “How’s the jet lag?”

“Absolutely abysmal,” Roman declares, and Virgil’s fairly sure he’s being a little dramatic, if such a thing is even possible, “Can we have a quiet day at home? I want nothing more than to lay on the couch with you and watch Disney movies, and continue to declare my undying love for you.” Virgil snorts.

“Aw, you poor baby,” he says, only half-sarcastically, “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. Sound good to me.”

The two talk of their missed time together in the cab, Virgil telling him of some of the new pieces he’s been working on and Roman filling him in on how the play went.

“That’s the last far-away show I do for a while,” Roman says once they’ve arrived home, flopping down on the couch, “God, it’s good to be home with you.”

“That’d be nice,” Virgil admits, sitting beside Roman, which quickly turns to settling into his lap, Roman’s fingers threaded in his hair, “Not – not that you can’t do shows wherever. I get it.”

“Hey, I mean it,” Roman says, voice edging on seriousness, “I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve missed us. I loved doing the show, and I met some very wonderful people, but very little compares to you, my love.” Virgil laughs lightly as Roman presses a kiss to his lips, firm and overwhelmingly loving.

“Jesus, you’ve managed to get even sappier than usual.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, darling,” Roman says, “And, also, shut up! You love it.” Virgil glares playfully at his boyfriend.

“And what if I do?”

“And you looove me,” Roman says, drawling out the ‘o’ as far as it’ll stretch. Virgil rolls his eyes, but his expression betrays nothing but fondness. “Yeah, I do. I really fucking love you, Ro.”

“More than angsty emo bands?”

“Well… let’s not go that far.” Roman squawks in offense.

“You wound me!” Virgil laughs again, the sound far more content than he’s felt in the last few months, his arms winding around his boyfriend so that he’s lying against his chest.

“I’m teasing and you know it,” Virgil says, kissing Roman once more as if to further his point, or maybe just because he’s really missed kissing him, “I missed you like crazy.”

“One of my co-stars flirted with me; would you believe that?” Virgil hums in place of a response, lost in the feeling of embracing Roman against for the first time in what feels like forever. “I have you as my lock screen, and I talk of you constantly. Also, where in the world did she get the impression I had the slightest interest in women?!” Virgil snorts at that.

“Must’ve been an off-day for her if she was delusional enough to think you were straight, or bi, or anything that isn’t insanely gay.”

“I know, right!”

Virgil’s missed this so much. Their playful back-and-forth, innocuous teasing, cuddling on the couch and basking in each other's company. As far as he’s concerned, he’d like to keep holding onto Roman like this and never, ever let him go. Virgil can’t recall when he’d become such a fucking sap, but there’s no changing it now. He’s just gonna have to live with it, and he really doesn’t mind the thought of that.

They watch Disney movies as discussed, Virgil critiquing and pointing out plot-holes all the while (Virgil, everyone knows Beauty and the Beast is a little problematic, and frankly, I don’t want to hear it!) He can tell the long flight really wore Roman out, so he decides not to comment about the fact that it’s his birthday, instead putting all of his focus on being together again.

That is until Virgil comes out of the bathroom some hours later, having just gotten ready for bed, and finding Roman sitting on their bed with a sullen expression.

“Whoa, hey, Roman, what’s the matter?” He asks, quickly sitting beside his partner.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.” Virgil blinks. What the fuck?

“What? No, you’re not. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your birthday,” Roman supplies, sounding gut-wrenchingly guilty, “I forgot your birthday!”

Oh. Virgil had kinda forgotten himself, too caught up in having Roman by his side once more. He glances at the clock.

“It’s not midnight yet,” he says, “You didn’t forget. Just remembered a little late.” Roman buries his face in his hands.

“I didn’t get you anything! I didn’t wish you happy birthday! I-I’m terrible, you must hate me!” Virgil sighs, settling a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman…”

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles weakly, embarrassedly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t hate you.” Roman peaks up from his hands, daring to make eye-contact.

“You… you don’t?”

“Jesus Christ, of course not! I love you, you idiot. It’s just a birthday, I’m gonna have more of those, you know. It’s kind of this annual thing.”

“But- but I didn’t –.”

“It’s fine, babe. Seriously, I kinda forgot, too. Having you home again is gift enough, as it is. I can’t think of a better present than that.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Virgil shakes his head, planting a kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“No need. There’s nothing to make up for. You look ready to pass out right now, as it is. I’m not mad at you for forgetting; you’ve been so fucking busy for the last couple of months, and you had a long-ass plane ride today. You’re permitted a little forgetfulness, okay?” Roman sighs as he slides into bed with Virgil and shuts out the light, his head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I’m taking you to dinner tomorrow.” Virgil lets out a sigh.

“You don’t have to –.”

“I want to,” Roman insists, “It’s the least I can do since you’re being so gracious.”

“What, were you expecting me to force you to the couch, or something?” Roman pauses. “Roman?”

“…Maybe.” Virgil can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Are you kidding me? After all those nights without you, I’m not letting you go anywhere.” To make sure things are crystal-clear, he tightens his hold on Roman, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“That’s good because I really wasn’t looking forward to it.”

“You’re such a dramatic doofus. Lucky that you’re so cute,” Virgil says, feeling Roman begin to go lax with exhaustion.

“Mm, love you, Virgey,” Roman mumbles sleepily.

“I love you too, Ro.”

“Happy birthday…,” Roman says before sleep greets him and he drifts off. Virgil shuts his eyes, contentment washing over him as, too, welcomes slumber.

Despite Roman’s insistent apology, Virgil still can’t think of a better birthday present.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

Please let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist! I’d be happy to add you! 

[shirorozutriea]

Till Death Do Us Part

Audience List

Day 4: Goddesses AU

Till Death Do Us Part

Death.

Hearing or even uttering the name makes mankind and even deities quiver from where they stood. Death had been in existence for quite some time already. Before even the beginning of the world. They had been there. Lurking. Observing.

As the world of Remnant made it’s appearance they had been there, looking from who knows where. And as the time passes by, it became a tradition, a thing of the humans to worship and give their sacrifices to the gods they serve, and most especially, to Death.

Death, however, didn’t pay attention to such sacrifices and would sometimes give them to the poorest of poor. Of course, without them knowing. For if Death visits you, it’s your time. Although contrary to known belief, that would never happen. They are also the God of Time, they would know if it’s your time.

Some sacrifices are warm with genuine feelings, like appreciation and thankfulness. Not many people register the other reign Death have. They're the God of Death and Time, and as well as Life. But of course, most of the sacrifices are all for the sake of not getting killed or getting visited by them. And also cookies. That’s their favorite sacrifice. Especially chocolate chip cookies. But of course, if there’s pleasant sacrifices, there is also unpleasant ones. Poison fruits. Live cattle(what could they make of that?).

And of course, there’s always the one that would take the cake. Princesses or first born child. Just why? Death had been so kind to give those children a new life, by giving them to those who deserves a child.

And speaking of princesses, there’s one on their temple right now.

The child quivers on the cold stone floor. Teeth chattering and breathe puffing white air. It was winter. Death questioned whomever left a child at this kind of weather with nothing but a nightgown. They appeared on the steps of the temple and the child saw them, fear brimming in their eyes. Those blue eyes glistened with tears, and Death felt their stomach churn.

“Child, what is your name?” Death asked. The child opened her mouth and spoke. “W-Weiss Schnee. S-second Princess of A-Atlas Ki-kingdom.”

Weiss stared at the dark figure. Their body covered in dark smoky cloak, hood covering their eyes and a scythe looming tall on the figure. She shivered at the figure and gulped.

“I-I am the kingdom's o-offer to… to you. I… I will… be willing to…” She choked on her words. Curses, a Schnee never choke on their words. “T-to be your concubine…”

Death took a step forward and Weiss forgot how to breathe. Death took notice. “Breathe, child. I will never harm you.” Weiss nodded and shivered from the cold.

Death reached to where Weiss stood and kneeled down, taking their cloak off and covered the shivering child. “Since when did I asked for a concubine?” They muttered.

Weiss blinked. “M-my father, told me to do so. Originally, it was supposed to be my sister, Winter. But she escaped. And so, I was burdened by the task.”

Death narrowed their silver, glowing eyes. “Then I must bring you to a new home. I do not need of a partner, for I will be living for eternity and beyond.” Weiss’s eyes widen. She gaped and looked down.

Now what would she do? All her life, after her sister left. She was supposed to held the title of being the rightful heir of the throne, by being the sacrifice, the concubine of the feared God of Death. All her life, she willed herself to not be scared of the deity. But here she was, shivering. Scared. But, nothing was more scary than her being alone. She don’t want to go back. Nor does she want a new home.

And so, with a new vigor, she looked up. Stared at the glowing pools of her god and spoke. “I will stay with you. Until death. Until you take my spirit. I will stay. Please let me stay.”

A spark.

Death looked at the child in front of them. She stared at those determined blue eyes that greatly reminds them of the vast seas and skies. Death looked at the child amused, one moment she was scared, the next she’s proclaiming to stay at their side until death comes for her.

“I don’t want to go home, nor I don’t want anyone. I just want you to accept me as yours. I've been raised to worship you. I’ll do so.” Weiss stated, firmly. Death's eyes glowed bright.

“I will not take you as mine. But I will provide you whatever you need. A home, a life. You shall stay.” Death said. Weiss eyes glowed as she grin at Death. “Thank you, Death!”

A beat.

True to their words. Death took her in, gave her a home, with Weiss insisting that they would stay with her at her new home. Death was genuinely surprised at how they had grown accustom at the presence of the white haired girl. The girl would welcome them home. The girl would cook the sacrifices that Death receives. All in all, Weiss pampered the deity she was promised with.

“I still didn’t think you would let the girl stay.” The sunny god pointed out.

“I worry about the child. She would not want to go to a new home, and keep on insisting that she should stay with me.” Death stated, as she watched the girl play with a faunus girl. “What about you, Day? Why take her in?”

Day crossed her arms and huffed. “You know those ‘priests’, right? They just… won’t let the girl back in. Saying that I like cats and, well, she’s a cat faunus. So they sent her to my temple, and basically like Weiss here, she was chosen to be my concubine.” Day puffed up a fire breathe as she snorted.

Death sweat dropped at the statement. “Remind me why do we have priests?” Day shrugged and looked at Death. “I don’t know.”

The two gods looked at the two girls giggling at some story book they had read. The first time they met, both were reluctant to talk to each other. With the faunus girl being treated poorly by human priests and the heiress being taught that Faunus are some sort of rabid animal. Needless to say, the two didn’t see eye to eye. But of course, things are bound to change. Right now, they're almost inseparable.

“So, Blake. How did you meet the God of the Sun?” Asked Weiss as she settled down the book they had read. Blake's ear twitched. “The priests… dump me in her temple.”

Weiss cringed at the word. “Dump? Like, they abandoned you there. Like some sort of free cattle?” She hissed. Blake timidly nodded.

“But that’s all in the past. I got you, and Day, and even the fearsome god of all, Death. I have a family now, and that’s all that matters.” Blake sighed in contentment. Weiss nodded and continue to stare at her, now best friend.

“Aren’t you curious about who were your family?” She asked.

“I am.” Blake nodded. “But I’m not right now. Soon, maybe, I’ll go searching for them.”

Weiss smiled at her. “Look at you all mature.” Blake rolled her eyes. “We’re basically the same age, don’t treat me like a kid.”

Weiss giggled and looked at Death who was talking to Day. “Well, I'd say I lived a little bit longer.”

Blake looked at the same scene Weiss was looking and agreed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Weiss laughed haughtily. “What an ironic way to actually grow up.” Blake can’t help but laugh along with her.

A bit of years had gone pass and the two girls had grown into a splendid beautiful women. People were flocking them, wooing them, trying to get the two to like them. But the two paid no attention to them and merely shrug them off and ignored them. Even having gone to far to turn them away by stating;

“My own would only belong to none other than, Death/Day.” The two would proclaim. But people ignore this, thinking that they are out of the god’s league.

Weiss let out an exasperated huff as she recall this day’s events. This was utterly stressing her out, and she swears that she could also speak for Blake's sake. She groaned when she remembered a certain ashen blue haired… boy, who wouldn't stop hitting on her.

“Are you okay, Weiss?” Blake asked as she prepare tea for the both of them. Blake was permitted to stay with Weiss so that they wouldn’t be alone, because the two gods are always out and doing ‘god’ stuff.

“Do I look like I’m okay?” Weiss said, monotonously. Blake grimaced at the tone, but understood her very well.

“I mean, where in Oum’s name do they not get that I am not interested with any of them?” Fumed Weiss. Blake solemnly nodded in agreement. “But enough about me, how are you, Blake?”

Blake let out a deep sigh. “Same as you. I’ve been pelted by dozens and dozens of letters, flowers and whatever they think that would please me. Even money has been offered! I just wish they would stop and… I just wish she would, notice me.” Blake's ears drooped low and her gaze shifted downwards.

Weiss stood up, circling her arm to the faunus’ waist in a side hug. She leaned her head on the taller woman in sympathy. She feels her, she know what she’s feeling. They're the same. Wishing the same thing.

“It’s okay. She’ll notice soon. I hope.” She heard a sniffle from her friend, and that broke her heart. Blake looked at her. “How about you?”

Weiss blinked and gave an empty chuckle. “Me? Same as always. We’re both a bit… you know…” Blake laughed. “Tea?” Weiss nodded. “Yes, please.”

It has been years since they stayed with their respective gods. At first they were not exactly in love with the two deity, they are more of a guardian to them, and in the same position of being their alleged concubine because that’s what they were raised for. But as the time passes by, they felt a spark. They fell in love. It’s not like it was that hard, it was pretty easy with how caring the two gods are, it was overwhelming. A good kind of overwhelming.

As the two were sipping tea, the door clicked open and they saw two familiar figures.

Weiss immediately stood up and greeted the two. “Hello Day, Death. Are you both okay?”

Death looked at her and averted their gaze as Day laughed at the reaction. “Oh we're both fine! Totally!”

“Shut up, Yang.” Grumbled Death. Weiss and Blake looked at the two, both wore a look of confusion. Death looked at the two in realization. “Of course, we haven’t told you our names.”

Day, or now called Yang, looked at Death in surprised. “No wonder she still calls me Day.”

Death scratched their head and cleared their throat. “Day’s name is Yang. And I am Ruby. Duly note, while my name may be a woman’s name. I am genderless.”

“Yeah, Death here is genderless. Although, Death looks like a woman but then again they also looked like a man too, so no biggie.” Day chuckled. Death briefly wondered what will the two do with that information. Or what would the ex-heiress do with it.

Death looked at the two. “You may call us, whatever you like. But I suggest you to drop the formalities, we are all basically family.” Day aww’d and encircle her arm onto Death’s neck. “D’aww, Rubes! I’m touched.”

Death groaned and pushed Day. “Get off, Yang!” Day laughed, then she perked up, releasing Death. “Right. Blakey, I need to talk to you.”

Blake blinked before nodding at her. Day smiled at her warmly, making the former blush which didn’t went unnoticed by Day. She then looked at Death who’s posture is undoubtedly stiff and rigid.

Day leaned in a bit and whispered. “Remember our talk? I’ll do my part, you’ll do yours.” Death sighed and begrudgingly nodded at her as she remembers the ‘talk’.

Death was walking around the forest near their temple, observing ten by ten of people entering the infrastructure with a basket or a platter of offerings. And they swore there were also cookies there. Death felt a hum of aura behind them. “Day?” The said god was leaning on a tree, quietly staring at the former’s back. Death looked back, their eyes glowing ethereal silver.

“You know what I’m thinking of, right?” Quipped Day, her arms crossing on her chest as she looked at the powerful deity in front. Death nodded. “I do know. But why that all of a sudden?”

Day huffed and brushed her golden mane, a sign of uneasiness. “Pyrrha, did.” Death sent her a questioning look and asked. “What did Pyrrha have to do with that thought?”

“She helped me, with it. Made me realize something. It’s outrageous. Totally normal, yet, it’s not something you and I, or some other gods do.” Day started. Death listened to her, patiently, urging her to continue. “We both made a vow—to not be fully involved and indulge with any sorts of human… interaction. But, if you noticed, more and more gods had picked their chosen, mortal. Pyrrha did too, you know.”

Death gave her a nod. “Of course, Jaune the Brave. I know of him. The boy who were granted Pyrrha’s divine blessing, before walking on a path of a warrior under her reign.” Death stated, before their eyes glowed in realization. “Blake?”

Day nodded, her shoulders sagging. “But the thing is, I know what she is talking about. I know, for years. I’m not dumb, nor am I oblivious. It’s just that… she deserves more than a god with magic and stuff. She deserves to live a life with a mortal lover and die with said mortal lover, than die in my arms because I’m immortal.” Thunk. The sound of her head hitting the bark. “I’ve been avoiding it like a plague. But Oum forbid, Eros with his arrow struck it’s way to my heart, and now… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Death could only listen at her ministrations. Silently soaking the information deep in their mind. Engraving it, realizing how of a truth it was. How it resonates with them. They also knew. The child they swore to protect and raise, was actually, and ultimately in love with them. They know. Of course, Death would always know. And for the first time in their eternal lives, they don’t know what to do.

They could do the same thing as the other gods would have done. But committing on something they swore not to do, is breaking whatever unwritten rule they laid out. Committing means, loving, and getting hurt. Death may not be able to feel pain, but it differs for when they commit into something. But it doesn’t compare to the same fear Day is feeling. The feeling of death of their loved ones. And that’s specifically why both of them won’t ever commit. Not that there were actually potential lovers to begin with. But that’s besides the point.

“Are you going to tell her that she is your chosen?” Asked Death, curious as to what she would say. Day went tense, her eyes flickering everywhere. Then her shoulders sagged even more. “I-I want to… but I don’t know if I should…”

“What's stopping you?” Death asked, and in one look they understood. They sighed. Their hand taken a grip on their scythe. “I assure you, she will live long.”

Day looked at them. “But what if she died? Will the cycle of rebirth do her bidding?” Death's eyes glowed and shook their head. “Even Chance cannot predict the work of the cycle of rebirth.”

Day closed her eyes and sighed. “Since you’re the all knowing God of Death and Time.” She opened her eyes. “What do you think I should do?”

Death averted their gaze and spoke. “You have time. But I suggest you to not wait. Time is running.” Day sighed for the umpteenth time. “So I have to take my chance. Because time and change is my enemy.”

Death nodded. “Precisely. But it’s up to you. Like I said, you have time. Sooner or later is up to your choice.” Day huffed, her eyes glowed red. “I’ll choose the former. What about you?”

Death flinched and looked at her nervously. “Me? What about me?” The former gave the latter a look. “I think you know what I’m talking about.”

“I haven’t any slightest of idea to know what you are talking about.” Stated Death. Day let out a scoff. “Death, I am not blind. I can see how she fancies you. You can’t avoid it like I do.”

Death let out a low growl. “But she—” Day quipped. “No buts! The fear you felt, is also the fear I am trying to accept. Death, like you said, time is our greatest enemy. You can’t also keep her waiting.” Day protested.

Death sighed. “I’ll do what I can.”

And now, they find themselves in this predicament. Day and Blake had long since left the house, leaving the two standing in awkward silence, at least, in Death's part. Weiss continue to look at Death, tilting her head, making her look cute! Why does she have to act so… adorable.

Death gulped. They didn’t know the extent of her prowess under them. How they can easily succumb to her bidding. Them, the God of Death! If Day didn’t exactly open the topic they may not be able to give a thought about this. And they wouldn’t feel so awkward about it!

“Are you okay, Death?” Asked Weiss. Death shuffle in their feet. “Ruby is fine.” Weiss blinked and cleared her throat. “R-ruby?”

Oh Oum, my name… is my name that actually beautiful sounding or is it just her? Death gulped slowly. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

Weiss eyes brighten at the request and nodded eagerly. “I would love to, Ruby!”

A spark. The same spark they felt when they met for the first time. Who would have thought that they had actually had been feeling like this from the very start. Who would have thought that they had already succumb to the feeling so long ago. Death’s eyes subtly widen as they watch the girl, now a woman, skipping in absolute glee in the woods. The sudden realization was a bolt out of the blue. Death wonders if it was a good or a bad thing.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Weiss spoke, suddenly turning around. And in Death’s eyes, time seems to slow down.

The light from the sun, slightly blinded by leaves illuminates the woman in motion. The sudden motion gave the effect of her hair flowing like sleek waves in the ocean, the sun giving her an ethereal glow. And it that seconds, that felt like minutes, Death stumbled in the bed of red roses.

“Beautiful…” They breathed.

Weiss was taken aback by the sudden compliment. Sure, it was not foreign to her, given the circumstances with her suitors. But this is rare, a once in a blue moon compliment from Death. Weiss couldn’t help but to stare, mouth agape as she witness the otherwise pale features of Death turning red every second.

“W-what did you say?” She stuttered. Death didn’t hesitate. “You are… beautiful. Like no other.”

Weiss blushed and looked away. “You’re just saying that. There’s more beautiful than I, in this whole wide world.”

Death grew bold. “But what if I told you, there’s no one had caught my eye, other than you.” Weiss let out a scoff.

“Me? Caught your eye? Really?” She retorted sarcastically. Death understood.

And then they grew more bolder. “You already caught me, even before you fully admitted that you love me.” Weiss’ face flushed, but denied the fact. “And who told you that.”

Death smirked at her and took a step closer to the in denial woman. “I am Death. I know all.” Weiss puffed her cheeks in a pout. “After not noticing me for years, you’re making a move. No.” She huffed.

Death let out a chuckle. “But I do, in fact, had noticed you already from the start.” Death visibly frowned. “And I am sorry for making you think otherwise.”

Weiss relaxed and her shoulders drop. “What took you so long?” Weiss looked at them curious. Death took a deep breathe. “Complications. Due to my upbringing.”

Weiss flinched and looked at them. “Am I a complication?”

“No. You’re… a blessing. That I try to not take notice. I was afraid—” Weiss have them a look. “You? Afraid?”

Death nodded. “Yes. Believe it or not, us gods, have something we are afraid off. Some are silly, some are just quite personal.”

Weiss nodded, understanding. “You have your reasons. I accept. But now that you have confirmed your… hidden affection—did you confirm it? Am I not jumping into conclusions?”

Death let out a melodic laugh. One that made Weiss’ heart beat faster for more. “Yes. Yes, I am. I am deeply infatuated with you.”

Weiss nearly hyperventilate. “Y-you mean—does that mean we-we’re… together?” Her eyes shining with hope.

“I sure hope so. After my coming out with you.” Death grinned. Weiss, barely containing her excitement, launched herself to Death's arms and gave them a hug, sobbing all the while. “I-I… oh my god.” Death couldn’t help but laugh, making the latter fell more in love with the god in her arms.

“Weiss. I’ll be honest. I’m scared.” Death’s voice droop low, almost a whisper. “Committing, means I’m going to hurt. And I know what entails—”

A kiss.

Weiss looked at them lovingly. Death was taken aback. “Don’t think too much ahead, Ruby.” Death shivered, they're a bit relieved that Weiss didn’t took notice of it. “What’s important is, whatever is happening right now. And I am content, now that I know you’re here, with me.”

Death tighten their hold on the latter's waist. Death stared at them and Weiss was once again, taken aback by the emotions swimming in the former’s eyes. There was love, admiration, respect, care, and many more. It was overwhelmingly good. It made her feel loved.

Death leaned in and rubbed their nose together, eliciting a soft giggle from the white haired woman. “I adore you.” They whispered.

“And I love you, always.” Whispered Weiss.

Omake 1:

Day stood on her temple, admiring the gold linings and plates of her throne. It was splendid. The carvings are well-made. The materials ran smoothly in her palm. She could flick the armrest and a light ‘ting’ will be heard, accompanied by a yelp. Wait what?

She looked back, thankful for the fact that she’s invisible from whomever was inside her temple. A group of priests and a… faunus? What do they want with her?

“Oh God of the Sun, the Fire, and Wealth! We humbly offer you this gift. A faunus girl as your concubine. She will forever be yours!” They proposed.

Day couldn’t help but stare at the priests as they left the girl on the feet of the temple. What in Oum’s name are they doing? Are they really leaving a vulnerable, shivering child in her steps. Are they really?!

Day unveil herself, and she glowed. The faunus child noticed this and they shiver even more. Day flinched and looked at the child.

“Calm down, girl. Are you okay?” Day almost slapped herself for asking such obvious question. Of course the girl is not okay!

Day made her way to the faunus girl and knelt down. She looked at the amber eyes of the girl and smiled. “Hug?”

The girl threw her arms around the offering god. The said god leaned the girl comfortably around her and sway around. After a minute, the girl fell asleep and she took off, teleporting to a certain someone that could mayhaps, help her since they had the same predicament.

She arrived at the doorsteps of a house which made her confuse, but nonetheless knocked. The door opened, revealing a dark looming figure with glowing silver pools. The figure had their eyebrow upward as she took a glance at the child in Day’s arms.

“Erm… help?” Day grinned sheepishly.

Death was sure enough that everything will never be the same. But they felt that, it was a good change.

“Come in. Weiss is sleeping. I’ll lent the child an extra bed.” Said Death, opening the door.

Day grinned. “You’re a lifesaver!” And with that the door closed.

Omake 2:

Now's the right chance. He won’t slip again. This time, he will succeed into taking the woman's hand in marriage. It had taken him three years on continuously courting the alabaster woman. And now, he’s going to take a step further. By asking her hand in marriage.

He knocked on the door and patiently wait for it to open. And it did, revealing the woman he had been waiting for.

“Weiss Schnee, the beautiful fair maiden I met for the longest while. I had admire you from afar, wanting to be with you. Wanting to hold you in my arms. Long I stood here, in the very same doorstep, to court you. Whilst asking you to be mine. But of course! A fair maiden like you is surely hard to get. And I love that most about you! Your aura. Your persona. Your everything! I am prepared to worship you in any way I can. And now, I am here, to ask you. The lovely maiden I fell for to have your hand in marriage.” He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said. “Marry me, Weiss Schnee.”

Weiss blinked at the scene happening in her feet. “Uhmm… no.” She stated. The man did a double take and looked at her wide eyed. “C-come again?”

Weiss straighten her posture and said, much more firmly. “No.”

“B-but—”

“No buts. I’m afraid I have been spoken for. And I am quite happy with my relationship with her.” Weiss stated.

“H-her?” He asked.

“Yeah. Me.”

The man looked behind the woman and saw a very familiar figure that sent chills running down his spine. “D-Death?”

Death's eyes glowed menacingly and the man whimpered. Weiss took notice of it. “Harigold, or whatever your name is, I suggest you to stop coming here altogether. And as well as courting me. I already have a lover. And a lover I wished to keep forever. Now go, before she actually kick you out.”

Not needing to be told twice, he scampered around the dirt, running off to Oum knows where. Weiss let out a sigh of relief and a giggle on her palm. Death looked at her confused.

“What’s so funny, Weiss?” Death asked.

“You.” Weiss giggled. “It was surprising to see you jealous.”

“No, I’m not!” They denied. Weiss giggled more and Death pouted at her.

“I love you for it though.” She kissed the cheeks of her lover. “I love you, Ruby.”

Death sighed contentedly as they leaned in on their lover's arms. “I love you too.” They hummed.

Weiss leaned back and took a hold of Death’s face, peppering in with kisses, until her lips began ghosting the god’s lips. Death whined and leaned in, capturing the former’s lips on their own. It went from cautious and slow, to heated and feverish kiss. Death bit the former’s lower lip, allowing them to gain entrance and began exploring their lover's mouth. Weiss moaned at the motion and intertwined her tongue to the latter's own.

“Haah… R-Ruby…” She panted. Death looked at her with half lidded eyes, brimming with lust. She shivered at the gaze and leaned in to give them a peck. “I so, fucking, love you, Ruby…”

Ruby grinned and softly bit her lover's lower lip seductively. “I’ll give the fucking you needed, Princess.”

Weiss chuckled, her eyes glowed, a sign of a god’s chosen. “Take me, Ruby.” She rasped.

Ruby chuckled and smiled. “Will do, love. Will do.”

Note:

Weiss was seven when she met Ruby. Eleven when she met Blake, the same age where the latter was left in Yang’s temple. Both are nineteen when the ‘talk’ happened. And on the second omake, Weiss is twenty-one.

This was heavily based on like, every God AU in the RWBY fandom, especially the whiterose ones. And I had actually written one too in the WRW 2018.

So, Ruby is the God of Death, Time and Life. Yang is the God of Day, Fire and Wealth. Pyrrha is the God of War, Peace and Beauty. Chance is Robyn, the God of Chance, Change, Honesty and Rebirth.

It was actually hard to make this thing. Partially because, it was hard to tap in on Ruby's identity as Death, being godly and whatnot.

[baijingshen]

@ofwindsweptpines​ cont. (x)

༺🌕༻ The night air was chill on his skin, wondering for a moment if it was really so cool out, or if the heat of frustration made the atmosphere feel stark around the collar. He held Jiang Cheng by the back of his own white, crisp training robes, marching him across the path through the pebbles, a few bouncing against his heels as the other boy staggered. The sounds of protesting voices, not daring to yell too loudly and seal themselves a fate worse than what was already in store for them, died out behind them as they rounded the corner of the guest houses, finally out of sight of Wuxian and the others who could barely keep themselves upright enough to properly argue in Jiang Cheng’s favor.

 Lan Wangji would only stop when he felt the other wrench himself from his grasp in a fit of defiance that quite honestly surprised him, turning to look at the boy who had been caught drinking with the others. Wangji had been overwhelmed by disappointment to see it, and maybe a touch of jealousy at how carefree they all seemed, laughing and rolling around on the floor together. He recalled a time many years ago when Jiang Fengmian had visited with his son, the self-same boy who had just wrested himself from his grip, and Zhan had watched Cheng spend tireless hours rolling around on the ground with the boy’s newest puppy — a gift from his father and a companion during his trip. Cheng had invited him to play, and they had enjoyed nearly a week of one another’s company, chatting, teaching the pup amusing tricks, and becoming fast friends where Wangji had sorely lacked in them. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to think that Jiang Cheng would return to him after so many years, still that bright-eyed, excitable boy, accompanied by a beautiful, majestic, well-trained dog at his side instead of a cocksure young upstart of a brother. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to think they would still be friends even now.

 He’d realized just how foolish when he’d gone to Cheng’s room to greet him properly after nearly a fortnight of barely having spoken a word — he was always flanked by the other boys, and that head-strong, showboating adopted brother of his, and when Wuxian wasn’t hanging himself on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders he was tormenting Wangji and disrupting his studies. It seemed that Cheng was of a different mind now, making trouble for himself and others, and had no time for old, fleeting friendships.

 Wangji had been about to grasp for Cheng’s wrist when the other jerked away, his expression not one of debauched sheepishness, or shame as was most often the case with disciples that were taken to be punished, but anger — real, unbridled anger. Jiang Cheng’s cheeks were flushed as he began to rant, piecing Wangji apart with his accusations of false friendship and empty promises. He lamented over piles of letters sent and received between them over the years that he’d thought spoke more of their friendship than whatever this was. He expressed his frustration at Wuxian and how the boy never let him get a word in edgewise, doomed to live in his brother’s shadow. He declared that coming here had been one big dumb mistake.

 Wangji got the uncanny sense that he was staring into a mirror, hearing all the same words that echoed in his head repeated to him nearly verbatim despite seeing another’s face looking back at him. Could it be that this whole time Jiang Cheng had been trying just as hard to reconnect with him as Wangji had the other? Had they both been played as utter fools, marionette’d around by Wei Wuxian who pulled the strings, ringmaster in all situations? Jiang Cheng had said nothing of his brother’s pervasiveness in his letters, only speaking favorably of him when he said anything at all — perhaps not wishing to upset his parents if either of them read the letters prior to sending. How could Wangji have known the other felt such a way, stifled and ineffectual, backed into a corner? Pressured to play along or be cast out?

 The boy’s voice carried through the empty courtyard, and Wangji considered silencing him for a moment but thought that would be in poor taste considering all the other had expressed with such earnest fervor. He would have to quiet him somehow or one of the elders would learn of the boys late-night transgressions soon enough. On a whim he grasped the front of Cheng’s robes, feeling them go taut as the boy started to take a step back, but Wangji yanked him up mid-step, teetering him off balance as lips pressed firm yet softly against the boy’s own, not relenting until he felt the heated diatribe die on his tongue.

 Jiang Cheng tasted of heady wine, and for a moment Lan Wangji’s head swam with the giddiness of second-hand intoxication, imagining for a moment that this was what it might feel like to have been laughing there on the floor with the rest of them, wine thick on his lips. But then he remembered that he himself had broken a very real rule of his own: no promiscuity was permitted in Cloud Recesses.

 His lips broke from Jiang Cheng’s quickly, gazing down into his eyes with a breathless pause before feeling the need to explain everything away.

 “I’m sorry, you were getting loud. Your punishment would have been worse had I let you…-” he trailed off sheepishly before repositioning to explain things properly. “I tried to come and talk to you. Many times. It was never right,”  hand unwinding from the front of the other’s robes and letting the male regain his footing. ༺🌕༻

          For days he’d waited for a chance to talk to Lan Wangji, to finally have a moment of peace for just the two of them to exchange a proper hello and ideally a few words. Torturous days filled with rather dry lectures and growing frustration over Wei Wuxian’s misbehavior and the resulting dent in the reputation of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, as well as the exponentially growing impression that Lan Wangji was just as DISINTERESTED in engaging further with either one of them as his uncle. It felt like something was taken from Jiang Cheng that he cherished like a treasure and all he could do was stand there and watch it slip through his fingers helpless to stop it.

For days he waited, and now that Lan Wangji was finally here it was this evening of all evenings and Jiang Cheng was drunk and making the worst possible impression he could. Not to mention that, judging by the way he was dragging him away like a misbehaved child, Wangji clearly intended to hold him fully responsible for Wei Wuxian’s shenanigans - which Jiang Cheng didn’t fully want to absolve himself from, but refused to take the fall for on his own. It was his mistake for participating, but it was his brother’s fault for getting them into this mess in the first place; and with that RIGHTEOUS ANGER Jiang Cheng tried to pull himself free from Lan Wangji’s grasp, a string of complaints immediately coming over his lips in a volume that held no regard for the late hour.

He spoke in a rush, fueled by his disappointment and seemingly endless frustration that had been boiling inside him ever since they came to Gusu and now finally found an outlet. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to and said things he would surely regret later on, but the alcohol in his system and the raw feeling in his chest put there by Wangji’s presence shattered all his remaining inhibitions. There was more he wanted to say, more he struggled to express, more he finally wanted to have off his chest - but his words were cut short and just like that all that anger and frustration melted away under the warmth of Lan Wangji’s lips.

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as Jiang Cheng wanted it to but it still left him a MESS. Heart hammering in his chest, head void of all thoughts besides the memory of Wangji’s lips against his he couldn’t do anything except stare for a few moments. Wangji was talking, apologizing, explaining, but all Jiang Cheng could think was please do that again. As the reality of what just happened slowly seeped into his brain his cheeks turned hot, taking on a faint pink shade. Lan Wangji had not forgotten about him. Lan Wangji did not hate him. Lan Wangji had wanted to see him as much as the other way around.

LAN WANGJI HAD JUST KISSED HIM.

     “I.. thought you.. don’t want to see me,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice a lot quieter then. He fought the urge to reach up and touch his lips, the kiss still tingling on them even while it started feeling more like a dream with every passing minute.      “I’m...” Ironically now that he was given the chance, Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to say, too stunned by the sudden turn of events. “I.. hoped we’re still FRIENDS..”

[chibi-pix]

VLD AU - Dark Water

Another piece to the mermaid!Pidge AU, this one being mainly focused around Shiro.  At the end, there will be a picture, but it does not fully match up to the story; the two were started around the same time but put off; as the story showed things slightly different, the picture kept its original state and I didn’t want to alter either.  Anyway! Enjoy this 1600 word ficlet in the “keep reading” below.

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I’m going down! Nav system is NOT working!”

“What’s your checkpoint, Shiro?!”

“Last check over AARC!”

Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane opened his eyes. Water was filling into his little plane at an alarmingly quick and steady pace. Crap. Not good at all. He went for the belt keeping him in place, working at it with his left hand. His right arm had been caught in part of his plane, the impact it made with the ocean crushing in the side and pinning him.

Shit. Even worse. If he could get the buckle undone, which he was almost too panicked to do, how could he get out? He had to try and find a way to free himself. But his arm was caught and he didn’t even think he could twitch his fingers.

Fuck.

And the plane had filled up completely, barely giving the pilot time to take a deep breath to try and prolong his survival. In his state, he felt he had about three minutes to get out of there before he needed to breathe again… or ultimately end up giving in and letting the dart, salty waters overtake him. He had to be quick.

He was both thankful and concerned that the light was still working in his plane, illuminating the area around him. This let him see the buckle, which he thankfully got undone in about half a minute since holding his breath, as well as his pinned arm. The worst part of being able to see, though, was what was around him. He could hear something that he could explain as a deep, sonance, melodic and ominous at the same time. Was it a creature? Was it just ambiance? No. Shiro couldn’t focus on that; he had to escape, even if his arm was starting to hurt further up.

Shiro was losing his battle. He was struggling to keep his breath held as he pushed past his three minute mark. The lights remained, but he could hardly notice them anymore. It was hard seeing in the water to begin with, the its natural salinity levels made it even harder… but his condition, everything was blurring further.

And then he saw movement. It startled him, but he managed to not give up on his breath holding competition with Fate. The movement seemed to circle him. Quick? No. Massive. It came around again and he saw them illuminated by the lights of his aircraft. Large, round eyes, clearly meant to see in the darkness of the ocean. But this thing… it wasn’t just his off perspective, right? His possible delirious state of being in pain and on the verge of dying in a watery grave? He didn’t know… but he could have sworn this thing that pulled its hands up around his plane was a giant mermaid.

He reached out with his good hand, mentally praying that this creature was real and perhaps sought to be merciful. But it couldn’t be, right? If it was real, logic said it could eat him. But it couldn’t be real… either way, he would die in the end.

-+-+-+-

“Over here!” came a very familiar call. He opened his eyes, seeing through the bleariness the best he could. “I found him! He’s still breathing!” the figure called. He could make out some defining features. Something was familiar about this person. “He’s badly hurt!”

He coughed. Did he survive? What happened? How did…

“Shiro? Shiro, it’s okay, I know it hurts.” The figure looked to him. Yes, this person was definitely someone he knew. “Just try to stay awake. They’re on their way. Just stay awake.”

-+-+-+-

Shiro woke up. He didn’t realize he passed out. He looked around to see himself in a hospital room of sorts. Looking to see a recognizable, framed image, he realized he was at AARC, Atlean Aquatic Research Center. It must have been the closest place to take him for… whatever. He then looked to his side, someone holding his left hand. Keith. A good friend. He was like a little brother to the pilot. Keith had appeared to have fallen asleep there.

Smiling softly, Shiro didn’t want to disturb him. He left his hand in place, letting Keith continue to hold onto it. He then tried to move his right hand, feeling for a button to let the doctor know he was up and would like assistance. Nothing. Not that there wasn’t a button, he didn’t know. He couldn’t feel anything.

Shiro dared to look over to his right. Bandaged up was his shoulder, the arm that was supposed to be connected to it was gone. He looked up when he heard the muffled sound of soft shoes hit tile floor before entering his room. An albino with a Mohawk and intricate, dark tattoos entered. He had been to AARC enough times to know this as Ulaz, the resident doctor. Sure, he was mainly on site for veterinary purposes, but he trained to work with humans, too.

“Hey.” Shiro rasped out, realizing his throat was dry.

“Glad to know you’re awake.” Ulaz said, going to a small fridge in the room and pulling out a pitcher of water. He poured it into a cup and put in a straw before taking it over for Shiro to sip on.

“Thanks.” Shiro said after a few long sips. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“How do you feel?” Ulaz inquired, setting the cup on the bedside table. He brought up a chair and sat down.

“Surprisingly fine, groggy. Hungry.” Shiro admitted. “Must be the pain killers.”

“We had you properly dosed; you’ve been in and out of consciousness for a few days now.” Ulaz explained. “Do you recall what happened?”

“I… I don’t know.” Shiro sighed. “My plane went down… hell if I knew why...”

“Indeed it did; thankfully what could be found was brought back so it could be combed over and see if there were any malfunctions.” Ulaz stated. “You were found not far from it. How you and your plane got to shore, well, hopefully the team can figure it out.” He showed the tablet in his hand, a design for a prosthetic on the screen. “We’re already looking into a new arm for you; due to the damage and time frame, we could not have your original arm reattached.”

Shiro smiled. “Looks like I’ll still get an arm. And months of rehabilitation.” he nodded. “Has… anyone contacted Adam?”

“He flew out the first day to help with the search; he’s in another building helping with the examination of your plane; he’s certain it has nothing to do with pilot error as some have questioned.” he informed. “Kolivan is leading the investigation. Surprisingly there isn’t much missing.”

“You mentioned my arm… it was...”

“Found in the wreckage.” Ulaz nodded. “Shiro, oddly enough, it was removed almost cleanly. And not in a way the wreck should have removed it.”

Shiro closed his eyes, thinking of the crash, his arm pinned. “My arm… it was… it was being crushed in the plane. I couldn’t pull it free.” He did his best to recall the facts. “But something… there was something there. In the water.” He opened his eyes again. “Maybe I was hallucinating. I was in pain… losing oxygen in my lungs… scared.”

“Something?” Ulaz questioned. “What do you think?”

“It was giant… face like a human but not… I can’t tell… even the lights in my ship couldn’t penetrate the darkness that much, right?” Shiro asked. “I had prayed, though, that whatever it was, it would show mercy… but… like I said, I could have been hallucinating.”

“You could have. Or there really was something out there looking out for you.” Ulaz stated. “There are a number of mysteries out there and the ocean is often the most mysterious.”

“So something could be out there?” Shiro asked.

“It’s probable.” Ulaz nodded.

“Nng...” Keith lifted his head. “Huh? Shiro?” He looked over. “Shiro, you’re awake.”

“So are you.” Shiro slipped his hand free and ruffled Keith’s hair. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey.” Keith smiled. “How you feelin’?”

“Hungry.” Shiro admitted.

“I’ll go fetch some food.” Keith perked up, ready to help.

“Maybe we can walk together to get food. If the doc permits.” Shiro looked to Ulaz.

“Take it easy, you’re still a bit groggy from the meds, but your legs are fine and work.” Ulaz chuckled. “If you need to, use a wheel chair. Your arm should be ready in less than a week, then onto rehabilitation.”

“Hey, as long as I can fly again, one or two arms, I’m good.”

“You crashed and you still wanna fly? Adam’s gonna give you an earful.” Keith sighed, shaking his head. He got up and helped Shiro to his feet, the older man a bit wobbly at first, but soon able to hold his own. “You okay?”

“Just gotta take it slow and easy to start.” Shiro nodded. “But yeah, I’m fine.” He then walked out of the room, looking to see Lance seem to walk past. “Oh, Lance, good… afternoon?”

“Almost.” Lance confirmed. “Glad to see you feeling better and on your feet.” He then walked off.

“Well, he didn’t stay to chat long.” Shiro commented. “That’s odd.”

“Looks like he wants to get somewhere.” Keith admitted as he shrugged. “Anyway, let’s get you fed.” Shiro’s stomach audibly rumbled. “Yup, your stomach agrees.”

“Knowing him, probably to catch some waves.” Shiro chuckled, knowing Lance loved to surf. “My mind agrees with my stomach, food would be great.” He nodded and walked with Keith supporting him, Ulaz slowly moving behind them to keep an eye on the pilot.

Well! I hope you all enjoyed this one.  It was actually the first of the mermaid au stories to be written/started, but I didn’t finish it until last night; I almost forgot I had it started until I was going through unfinished doodles. 

Well! Until next time!

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 5 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Emiya)

Previous Part: One - Haku POV / Gil POV, Two, Three, Four

______

Shit.

The thoughts of dinner were gone. Her mind was immediately and immensely focused on the fact that Gilgamesh was back in his human form. Her thoughts were immediately on the door and the man that was on the other side.

Emiya needed to be heading out.

Gilgamesh needed to not ruin her relationship with the man.

“Stay there,” she demanded of him, knowing full well that maybe there was a half minute before he would be doing what he wished to be doing anyway.

Hakuno pulled the door open and found Emiya shoving passed her.

“You’ve been avoiding everyone, Hakuno. Sakura and Rani are concerned. You can avoid me if you wish but avoiding…”

His words trailed off.

She didn’t blame him a bit for it, taking a moment to look back at the mess she had just welcomed into her life.

There were two plates set up on the counter, a selection of food cooked and waiting on the stove. The wine was cooling in an ice filled pot on her counter. The room was set for two people to sit and dine together.

It wasn’t the preparations that stopped Emiya though.

She could have been inviting anyone over to her house with this set up. It didn’t necessarily mean that she had a date or anything going on. She’d done this kind of set up for celebrating events before. She tended to be a habitual celebration giver.

No, it was the fact that there was a naked blond leaning against the doorway to the living room.

The man was crossing his arms, his eyes closed as a smirk played on his lips. At the other’s silence, Gilgamesh was running a hand through his hair, brushing it back.

Somehow, it felt like merely brushing his hair back was revealing more of him than the fact that he was nude in her kitchen.

“…Who are you?”

There was no emotion in Emiya’s voice as he spoke. His eyes were locked on Gilgamesh’s face, waiting for his answer.

The room was growing colder by the minute.

“I don’t believe I gave you the right to speak to me,” the man replied, that voice smoother than silk.

“Hakuno is not someone who let’s random men into her home. After the last situation a couple months ago-“

“She has nothing to worry about.” That smirk grew more prominent, reminding her of the smile of a great shark or that of a snake with its jaws unhooking. “I’m surprised that you bothered to come here, since Hakuno has spent weeks with me. Tell me, is it the sweet taste of her skin that did you in or are you one of those men who merely trails after women listlessly?”

“…Hakuno-“

“Emiya,” she had to stop this now. “Can we meet up tomorrow? I ah-“

“She has things to do.”

Things.

He made it sound like there was only one thing that needed to be done. The way his body seemed to be modeling the length and slight muscle that ran along his body, it was without saying what that something was.

She needed to do something.

Speak up, argue, point out something towards what was going on-

God, but how did she explain that there was an ancient demi-god in her home that was her cat 90% of the time?!

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Emiya stated, turning away from the man before him.

“She won’t,” Gilgamesh all but promised.

“If you need me, you have my number,” Emiya continued, speaking more softly as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

She could no more react than she could stop to explain.

Like that, Emiya was turning, pulling his jacket a bit closer and walking out of the place. The door was latching behind him and she was alone again.

No.

Not alone.

She’d been right about the date for the change.

Gilgamesh, king of Uruk and long lost from his own people and world, was standing in her kitchen doorway. Red tattoos were criss crossing his chest and upper arms. His body had not an ounce of fat to it.

“He came back again.”

It took a moment to figure out who he was talking about.

It took another moment to realize she was still looking him over.

“I ah- I have a blanket in the living room.”

“No need,” the man moved to her table, settling in onto one of the seats and crossing his legs slightly. “I’ve been wearing a coat in your home for a month. It’s nice to be bare once more.”

It may be, but she was going to get him a blanket.

The red fabric was grabbed from the back of her couch, tossed his way as she focused back in on dinner.

There was no time tonight to be running after Emiya. She had waited an entire month to speak to this man and she was going to have her words with him. When he was a cat once again and the sun was up, she would go find Emiya and try to find an explanation.

If there was one to be found.

“…As you like,” Gilgamesh stated behind her, the sound of fabric rustling a bit.

How to begin this conversation…

She’d spent enough time hoping to get him into human form again, hoping to explain the world and everything that he was surrounded by, she hadn’t really thought about how to broach the subject of… well, anything.

“You knew that I was going to change.”

“You said that you had been the one on my doorstep when I had thought someone was invading my house.”

He nodded when she glanced his way.

“That was a month exactly before the night you changed last. I figured it was tonight or in the next few days.”

He smirked, leaning back a little.

Somehow, he made her blanket look like it was far more expensive than it had any right to look. He seemed to make his corner of the kitchen look far more opulent.

“You must have made a decision about how to return me to Uruk then,” he stated. “I’m open to your reach of a dream. Considering the useless gnat that placed me in this situation, I find myself more open-minded on the impossibles.”

“I have no idea how to help you.”

He scowled at her.

It was true though. She didn’t know what to do about him.

“Do you know how you turn into a cat?”

“If I had any inclination as to what magic places me into that form, I would not be lying on your couch during a vast majority of the month, entertaining myself with the quarrels of your modern day plays.”

“Television shows.”

He wrinkled his nose as he drank some of the wine she’d sat down.

At the food she set before him, he shifted it in mild distaste with his fork.

“If you don’t like it, then don’t eat it.”

“I’ve accepted that I’m subject to your whimsical experiments in cooking.” He took a bite, closing his eyes with that frown still in place. “What use did you find in going to this trouble, if not to provide me with assurances of my return to Uruk?”

She was asking herself the same question.

Talking to him about the present didn’t feel like a grand idea now.

In fact, any conversation about the situation around her felt like it would merely lead to-

He was leaning closer, his plate pushed aside.

“Are you still thinking about the last time I was human?”

“Hmm?”

The man smirked, leaning back in his seat once more. “You spent several days after my last bout as a human, wandering around the house and muttering away to yourself. You inquired about whether or not I would be someone who would take you from this place as well.”

Perhaps it was because her cat had turned into a human and had been wandering around her house, demanding that she take him back to Uruk.

“Many women have been in your position before. I cannot blame-“

The wine was particularly bitter this evening.

Hakuno downed the glass as the man spoke, ignoring his words and thinking about what to talk about now.

He was much more tolerable as a cat.

Maybe that was why whomever had turned him into a cat had done so. No doubt it was Ishtar or whatever her name was. The goddess had probably taken one look at the man, listened to a split second of his mouth opening, and had decided to do humanity the great service of shutting him up.

To think, he’d almost been fixed.

Her eyes drifted down, her glass being lowered as the other noted her attention.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.”

That seemed to tick him off.

“I thought we could talk and I could actually have a decent conversation with you. You don’t seem up for it. I’m going to wash my dishes and head to bed. You can sleep on the couch until you take cat form again.”

“Hold on.”

His hand was wrapping around her wrist, pulling her to a stop.

“I am in the mood to indulge this whim of yours.”

She didn’t need to be indulging him in anything right now though. Already, she’d done more than enough. She needed to just go to bed. She could find somewhere else-

“There is something off about you.”

Hakuno blinked.

“Are you a temple maiden?”

She knew this term. She’d seen it used in her books before. What had it meant?

“Hakuno?”

“I don’t think so.”

A chuckle left him now.

“If you were, you would be telling me a simple yes. There is no maybes on the matters of a temple maiden.” He looked so smug about it, shaking his head. “We would not be having this conversation at all if that were the case either.”

Great.

She wasn’t a temple maiden then.

“I’m going to bed, Gil.”

“I do not recall permitting a nickname.”

“I call you G normally.”

Again, that smug look came to his face, his eyes closing in a manner that was ticking her off more than anything.

A moment seemed to pass. 

Then, a moment more.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but the fact that he wasn’t saying anything was bothering her.

“Gilgamesh-“

Those eyes opened again, seeming as though he were seeing something beyond her. He looked zoned out for a moment before he focused in on her. And then, she wasn’t sure how they got to this.

One second, she was breathing on her own. The next, her mouth was slammed against the naked man’s own at her kitchen table. The meal was thrown aside, her behind landing on the table a moment before he was yanking her hair back and kissing her hard.

She couldn’t breathe around him.

Despite how it seemed to make her feel, no air was no air. She was clinging to him, trying to pull back and finding herself falling back to the flat surface of the table.

A hand was pressing to her chest.

His head was tilting, mouth taking more of her own.

Her body seemed to burn in response.

What was she doing?

A leg was parting hers. His hips were suddenly there, the blanket a fluttering of red that seemed to come and go behind him like a flag.

“…How interesting,” the man murmured.

Interesting or not, this wasn’t how she was going to-

His lips were back against her own. She was starting to feel lightheaded from the feeling.

She needed to get him off of her. This was going to turn out the same way that it had turned out the month before. She needed to-

Suddenly, there were teeth against her neck. There was a flash of pain before she felt his hands-

As fast as he had been on her, he was off.

Gilgamesh pulled back, eyeing her a moment before he stood up.

“You want to go to bed, don’t you?”

Bed?

Hakuno found herself standing there, her hand on her neck as the man headed towards her bedroom and the bath.

“Hakuno?” He glanced her way. “You need to gather your energies. Take pride in the fact that your king has deemed it worthwhile to mark you.”

“You didn’t need to mark me.”

Why did it look like he was pitying her with that expression?

Better to not ask and do as he says for now.

She really did need sleep anyway. She could get up early and go to talk to Emiya.

The man���s arms snaked around her shoulders, a low murmur meeting her ears as they moved from the kitchen towards the bedroom.

“What are you mumbling?”

He went quiet.

There was something wrong about the fact that the man was going silent about what he was doing. She had the feeling this was not someone that remained quiet.

I have a bad feeling again.

“Lay down,” he commanded.

Lay down.

It was hard to do that when he was climbing into bed with her. It was hard to rest when he was pulling her to his chest and holding her there.

Her hands pressed to his chest.

Sleep was the very opposite of what she felt.

He’d be human all night.

She had a feeling that the night would last much longer than the previous one had.

“Rest, Hakuno,” the devil of a man murmured to her quietly. “I require you rested. We shall see if I was correct.”

Correct about-

You know what? She didn’t want to know.

She had a feeling once she knew, she would be in a world of a mess.

 “Goodnight then, G.”

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse

Chapter 179:  An American Werewolf in the Steam Realm

The Steam Realm was his least favorite place. Period. He'd been to a lot of places in the Enchanted Forest, been all over their realm, traveled to Neverland and a Land Without Color and London and was intending even to go to a World Without Magic, but this place…this was the worst place he'd ever been to. It looked like London, the London he'd been to when dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but it was dank and sinister in a way that London wasn't. It was daytime, but the sky was black. All around him he could smell fire, weapons, sickness, and most troubling of all, rotting flesh. He arrived in a forest community, one that was armed to the teeth against something he couldn't possibly understand until he'd turned around and come face to face with a corpse. A living corpse. He'd seen a great many things in his time, but few sickened him like this…thing, walking around on two legs; if he could even call them that. He was decomposing. One of his legs was missing a chunk of flesh so that he could see right down to the bone. He was missing two fingers on his right hand. His jaw was slacked open as if he couldn't close it. One eye hung from is socket by something reddish-gray while the other was fixed on him. He was so horrified he just stood there as he advanced, too stunned to run away, until-

A metal arrow darted past him and embedded itself within the last good eye the creature had. It had happened so fast he'd stood there yet again in stunned silence as the creature dropped to his knees then completely down to the ground. A child, no more than nine, in tattered clothes, ran around him and up to the creature. He pulled the arrow from his eye, pocketed it in a small quiver, then set to cutting his head off with a crude axe when he finally looked up at him. The boy gasped and it was only then that he realized he bore a striking resemblance to this particular monster, with his scaly skin and greasy hair. As the boy struggled to get another arrow he managed to make himself disappear into the tree line. He had magic in this place, not sluggish like it was in England or even in the Land Without Color. It was an interesting observation, but he wasn't in the Steam Realm for observations, he was there to find someone.

The Seer was beginning to talk to him, frequently and rapidly. He wasn't sure if he'd just forgotten how annoying she could be because he'd shut her out after being afraid she might put something in his head about Belle, or if she was just getting agitated because something was going to happen. But one thing was very certain, this time, he was going to listen when she spoke. He just hadn't realized that when she'd given him instructions yesterday, this place was where those instructions would lead. He stayed in the village for a few days, using glamor to help hide his cursed appearance from the villagers. He learned what this place was and soon learned that there were some curses even less appealing than his own.

The Steam Realm was a world in the midst of destruction, the stuff of nightmares. Unfriendly werewolves, beings called vampires that drank the blood of their victims, but most terrifying of all a creature that everyone called "the undead". They were beings infected with some kind of disease that forced them to feed on the flesh, specifically the brains, of other humans. As the disease ate at them, their bodies decomposed right along with their minds until they craved nothing but flesh. The only way they could be killed was to be beheaded, but steel arrows could temporarily stun them. It was good information to have.

The village he was at was one of the last of its kind, most people, in order to avoid the monsters, had gathered in cities with great walls to keep the creatures out. For the most part the cities were safe places but miserable. This realm knew about magic, but blamed it for most of their woes. Magic was not permitted within the cities and neither were the monsters. He shrugged as someone warned him against going, telling them that he was only a visitor.

"No one visits here," he was informed by a very confused young woman.

"Well, there's a first for everything."

And there was. The Curse that was coming for him was the reason, the first that drove him to this place, for there was someone he needed to see. Because the truth was he wasn't the first visitor they had here, there was another, and that was the man the Seer wanted him to see.

A law about magic couldn't keep him from doing it, and once he passed the stringent laws in order to get into the city, he was able to use an old spell to find his furry target…though, not so furry at the moment. Just dirty. He worked at a plant in the city, one that created coal and helped stoke the fires that made the steam. He found him there, getting off work, black dust clung to the creases in his skin no matter how hard he wiped at it with a cloth, and then…he cast his gaze to the sky, looking up as if he could see the moon through the black and smog. No one could see the moon, not even him…but he imagined that his new asset didn't need to see the moon to know what phase it was in. He could probably feel it.

"You don't belong here, dearie!"

The second the man stepped into his home he used magic to take himself inside and met him in his pitiful little kitchen. The man was quick. He pulled a knife from a drawer, tossed it in the air, caught it properly, and…he'd already used his magic to get to another place in the room for his own protection. A knife wouldn't kill him, not that knife at least, but he didn't particularly need the distraction.

"Nice try, but it'll take more than that to rid the world of me."

The man gasped as he turned to face him. He eyed him with distrust, looked him over, and then lowered the knife, but certainly didn't put it away.

"It would seem you don't belong here either...Dark One. What do you want?"

"Ooh! I do love it when I make an impression across the realms."

"Only with me. My father was of your world, he told me stories, it nearly killed him!"

"Ah, but you're not of my world!" he pointed out. "You're not even of this one. Tell me, who's idea was it to come here, yours…or his?"

The man opened his mouth to speak but instead just ended up breathing hard before he took a step back. "What's it to you? What do you know about me? What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "Interesting that you have questions. I have questions too. It's what brings me here on business, your business. Tell me," he pulled one of the little wooden chairs out from his small table and sat down in it, his back straight, his gaze unflinching in his direction to show interest. "How did a werewolf such as your father find his way to a small little Realm Without Magic, in a place called 'The United States of America'? And, for that matter, how does his son, also a werewolf, go from this United States of America, to a small city called London?"

He crossed his legs, then folded his hands and placed them on his knee, and raised his eyebrows. He was trying to be inviting, but the man just stood there, his gaze challenging his own. He had to force himself not to roll his eyes. He knew who he was, but only from stories passed down. He wasn't as frightened as someone from their world might be. That didn't work so well for just getting the individual to talk, but he did have some experience with this. He just had to find the right deal, and fortunately, he brought it with him in the form of an old deal he'd long since put behind him.

"Very well…I seek information, information on the land your father once immigrated to, information concerning the place you once called home. In return…this coin, has been infused with a solution which allows he who possesses it to ignore the harmful effects of the moon's rays. So long as you keep it in your pocket, you will remain human. Drop it…" he let it clatter to the table where it promptly rolled off and with a bit of magic settled right between the toes of his boots, "…and you'll become the monster that I assume forced you to move here."

With a gasp of desperation, the man dipped down to scoop the thing up, but he recalled it back into his palm. "Ah! You only get it when my questions have been answered."

"What kind of questions?"

"Well I've just told you-"

"Yeah, questions about America, but…what do you want to know? It's been ten years since I left, if you want an opinion about Jackie Robinson joining the Dodgers, I left before the World Series. If you want to know what's in spam, so would I! I didn't know Truman, I had no secrets of state!"

"Is any of that important?" he questioned, trying to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. It was like he was speaking another language.

"I don't know! It depends on who you're talking to, that's why I need to know what you want to know!"

What he wanted to know…about his new and future home…a million and one things. He wanted to know what a truman was and why Jackie Robinson needed an opinion about joining people who dodged…whatever they were supposed to be dodging. He wanted to know what was in spam and what it was. He wanted to know where Baelfire was, but he knew the chances of him knowing his son personally there were slim because while he knew that there was a dark haired man who knew Baelfire and this man had dark hair, they weren't one in the same. So…the question wasn't what he wanted to know, but rather, what did he need to know. What did he need to know about where to find Baelfire? Why had the Seer sent him after him? What was going to help him in the curse?

"Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America…do you know where this place is?"

"The United States of America is a country, most people just call it America or United States, or USA for short, just depends what part of the country you're from. Maine is a state up North…it's cold a lot…it's practically Canada. I've never heard of Storybrooke, but I assume it's a town."

"How big is this…America?"

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head looking overwhelmed and confused. "Forty-eight states total…millions of people I guess, I don't know, geography wasn't really my thing when I left."

Geography. The Curse was going to take care of that for him. He didn't need to know that, especially not before he left. He needed…he needed security. He had a plan with his potion from True Love to one day bring magic to that place and when it was there it would be a great resource. But before it arrived, he needed other resources to make up for it. In a world without magic, he needed power. How did a world without magic maintain that? What did he have to do to get power?

"How is power allocated? Who is in charge?"

"The President? Congress?"

Meaningless words.

"In a town like Storybrooke, an ordinary town, who would be in charge?"

"The police? Probably a Mayor? Or…well…I suppose at least technically."

"Technically? Who has the power? A mayor or police?"

The man smirked and blew a huff of air out of his nostrils. "There's no magic there so the powerful are those who have the most; most land, most money, most influence. Wherever this Storybrooke is…I'm sure it's just like every other place there. It's run by the people in charge, sometimes those people are who they seem, other times they're not."

"So if one wanted power there…?"

"Find yourself some cash, make sure you own your own land, don't rent, have a nice cushy job like a lawyer or a business owner, and then be sure to make friends in high places. And then bet on the Dodgers because my opinion is that Jackie Robinson's gonna make them fucking famous! Anything else you want to know?"

Suddenly he wasn't in the kitchen of the man's home anymore. Suddenly he was in a desolate place, on a lake of some kind. No…he wasn't on the lake, he was on a dock. There was fog all around him, a boat attached to the dock, and in front of him a single person he had been watching so long he would have recognized her even without her hood. Snow White.

Go now! The Seer ordered. She searches for you, for a way to forget! She must forget. She must forget so that she remembers. Go now! Or all is lost!

"Hey!" And just like that he was back in the kitchen, the voice, his vision, had ended, but his heart raced with anticipation. Another trick of the Seer's, one that she used to impress upon him the importance of time. She'd told him to come here for useful information, now she wanted him back in his own realm to meet Snow White. She wanted him there now. One of these days he was going to have to press her for a schedule.

"Anything else you want to know, or can I have that?"

Oh. He'd been nearly up and ready to leave when his voice summoned him back and reminded him of where he was and what he was doing. And the Dark Ones were there, striking magic into him, reminding him of the deal he'd made with the werewolf and the coin he still held in his hand, the coin he'd made just for this moment like he'd made Granny's cloak.

This moment…

"Go" said the Seer. So he went. "Talk" said the Seer, so he talked. "Go," she'd just said again…but had he talked all he needed to? In the new world, material possessions would be his power. He needed money and influence, he needed land and to be his own boss, not magic. But of course…if he had magic, that might put him heads and tails above the rest. He wanted no surprises. He needed no surprises.

"When they call it the Land Without Magic…"

"It's mostly true. No magic, at least none like what you're used to. But they have belief and miracles. Sometimes it's just as strong as magic, sometimes less. Belief in werewolves was enough to keep my father and I changing, at least until he died, hunted down like a monster. I wished for a world I'd belong…ended up here. I didn't realize my kind here were monsters and everyone would be afraid of me like they are, that I'd have to hide as much as I do."

"Ease your conscious…" flips the coin at him. He catches it in one hand and looks it over.

"Will this thing really work?"

"Hold tight to it next full moon, and you'll find out. One last thing, how did your father get to a Land Without Magic. It wasn't a fairy perhaps, was it? A bean, maybe?"

"Don't know," he shook his head. "My father took me when I was three, I have no memories of going, and when I asked, he never told me."

He didn't press the issue, not what he was as close as he was to getting things the way the Seer had always promised. In fact, from where he stood now he was almost certain that if he'd told him how it was done, he probably wouldn't have done it just out of a fear that he would mess up what he had, nearly a century and a half of work, all for a wild goose chase. He had to remain focused, and at the moment, that meant finding Snow White.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Lonely, Dark and Deep - ao3 link - Chapter 4

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Madara/Tobirama, background others Summary:

Hashirama was always going to have to leave Konoha behind one day, but no one was expecting for it to happen so soon.

Tobirama falls apart without his brother.

Madara, mad and bitter and preparing to leave himself, finds that he’s now without his best friend and responsible for a village he’d just about given up on.

And now it seems like there’s something not quite right with the forest…

———————————————————————————–

Tobirama is an amazing Nidaime.

Madara is increasingly convinced, watching him, that it was a role he was always meant to play, no matter how everything else might have panned out. Oh, he's still not charismatic in the way Hashirama was or Madara is, still grumpy and off-putting and inclined to tread all over people, but he's devoted to the well-being of their village with a ruthless single-minded intensity that wins him respect and loyalty from every shinobi and kunoichi and civilian in the village.

They don't love him the way they loved Hashirama, but they need him. He knows the institutions of the village better than anyone else, having thousands of facts at a moment's recall; he remembers everybody’s names and their problems and actually follows up on them; he turns their village from a good idea with promise into something so concrete, so obviously lasting, that the children growing up have started forgetting there was ever anything else.

(Madara's heard some genin talking of what people have started calling, rather dismissively, the warring clans era; they ‎sound almost envious, complaining about the rules that restrict them to D-rank missions rather than fighting in the wars. Of all ridiculous things to resent, the rules that keep them alive..! How quickly people forget the pain of the past.)

Tobirama started working furiously the second they returned to the village, setting a pace that made his previous efforts seem sedate, and no matter how much got done he never seemed to be finished or have time to stop.

Of course, when asked, there was always a good reason for it.

First, the election - Madara, who'd been certain that Hashirama's election had been little more than a ploy designed to exclude him from the position of Hokage, is surprised‎ when Tobirama insists on another one, and on putting Madara's name on the ballot beside his own. Apparently Tobirama actually believes in the principles of democracy, explaining when Madara asks that leadership by appointment or inheritance alone is a recipe for disaster when the inevitable day comes when the wrong person takes up a position to which they are not suited - a disaster that, inevitably, someone would have no choice but to take it upon themselves to fix. 

(There's an old pain in Tobirama's eyes when he says it that he never explains,‎ and Madara wonders again how it happened that Hashirama inherited his position so quickly after Madara took his, when to all appearances Butsuma had appeared to be still going strong. The official story was that he'd died an illness from some hidden injury in battle, and certainly Madara knows that such things are eminently probable, but the timing has always been deeply suspicious.)

They hold the vote and Madara can see, this time, that there is no trickery the way he had been so certain there was the last time. Hashirama's sway over the village is as strong as it ever was, and though a few other clan leaders put their names on the ballot as well - mostly led by the Hyuuga, arrogant little snots that they are - ‎Tobirama wins easily.

And then the work really begins. 

Tobirama has students that he refuses to neglect, three assigned to him by the Academy system he himself set up and three more that he inherited when their ‎own teacher died too early. He trains with them every morning and evening, with occasional training trips, and the rest of the time he handles the work of the village.

Managing to achieve peace and get decisions made while having to pass his ideas through a council composed of all the clan heads would by itself be a full time job, but Tobirama does that and far more – and not, as Madara had always feared, at the expense of his clan.

The Uchiha are given the power of police, tasked both with internal order - unpopular but necessary, particularly in a village where most peoples' primary trade is in blood - and external security, which wins them accolades as heroes. The Hyuuga and Senju are by necessity given a share in the latter, along with the other smaller clans, but the role is clearly subordinate. The face-saving reason given is benefits of coordinating of their security forces under one clear line of authority, but Madara sees his clan toasted as the village's hands, the highest honor a shinobi can give, and knows that it is Tobirama's way of trying to do his best by them.

(External security is easier than it might be - Tobirama is not wrong when he says the forest protects them, and while their location ‎is only technically secret, no foreign army or assassination squad ever seems to reach them. A few individuals with bad intentions slip through, yes, but only the ones who come through the main roads - those who try to cut through the forest are often just found dead, throats ripped out by animals or drowned in quicksand traps that no one had known were there.) 

Security aside, though, there's still everything else to be done, ranging from finances to sanitation to zoning to diplomacy to making sure there's always plenty of food available. And all of that is aside from the brewing strife with Kiri – a would-be war that is only limited to minor skirmishes because of their opponents’ fear of facing shinobi with the combined reputations of Madara and Tobirama together.

(Madara tries not to think of how differently it might have gone if he wasn't here by Tobirama’s side. Having just one shinobi of their caliber available means that the enemy has a target to focus on to the exclusion of all else – having two is much safer, because if they really needed to, they could take shifts in order to keep watch at all times of day and night. They don’t need to, not yet, but they could, and that’s its own form of deterrence.)

Yes, Tobirama is an amazing Hokage.

But he's not a happy one.

He works too much, for one thing.

Part of the reason for his endless work is that what used to be divided between Hashirama and Tobirama is now borne by Tobirama alone, but that’s not the only reason. Madara might not be great at paperwork, but neither was Hashirama, and the administrative system that Tobirama creates – levels of review, committees composed of experts, trained secretaries to assist them – ensures that while there’s a lot more paper than there ever was before, most of the village could continue to function even without constant review by its Hokage. 

But Tobirama is not just the Hokage; he’s on every committee, an expert in every subject or forcing himself to learn about it, and where there isn’t enough work to justify staying late, he makes more – village work, his own work creating new jutsus for the village to use, or even personal matters.

Once a week, he meets with Madara to work on their mutual project, as he’s taken to calling Madara’s ‘quest’ for the Rinnegan; twice a week, he devotes a full afternoon to researching new jutsu and seals; three times a week, he visits with Mito and his nephews, who he never abandons the way Hashirama did.

Whether he gets any pleasure from any of it, though...

“Falling apart,” Senju Touka opines, watching him leave the office on the urgent request of one of their infinite committees. She’s helping out in the office while on medical leave between front-line postings – she's easily one of their best scouts, capable of great subtlety but strong as a bear and with the short temper of one, too, and Madara sometimes thinks that Izuna might have liked her a great deal. He can think things like that now, without wanting to kill the entire world and then himself. "I told him not to put his trust in people."

Madara looks sharply at her. He'd been under the impression such things were as little discussed among the Senju as the curse of hatred was among the Uchiha.

She meets his gaze without flinching. "I know you know," she says. "You're his right hand."

"I am not!" Madara exclaims immediately. "We fight all the time!"

She snorts. "Of course you do; doesn’t mean you aren’t. It's a precedent now, don't you realize? Two times at the beginning is enough to make for a tradition. Our village’s system of government now officially consists of a Hokage and his one advisor whose job it is to yell at‎ the Hokage when he makes mistakes - just as Tobirama was for Hashirama. People are already wondering who will fill that role for you." 

Madara stares at her, a chill going down his spine. "For me?" 

"You must know that you’re the obvious next candidate -"

"I know that. But why are people speculating about me at all? Tobirama is doing a fantastic job. They can’t possibly want to vote him out." 

Touka looks at him pityingly. "Surely you know."

“Know what?”

“Do you think he’s working so hard to set up a stable system of government for fun?” she asks. “He’s making sure that the village will continue to function no matter who gets appointed as his successor. The second he thinks he’s fulfilled all of his obligations – the village stable and prospering, his students graduated, whatever that project is that he’s working on with you finished – he’s going to go to join Hashirama.” 

Madara flinches.

Yes. He did know that. 

He’d just…been trying not to think about it. Part of it was the traditional discomfort with shinobi suicides – common, far too common, though less now that they had a semblance of peace – and part of it is the distinct feeling that he’d be letting Izuna down if he permitted his brother’s best rival to die by his own hand.

(In his rage and madness he’d somehow forgotten that for however much Izuna distrusted the Senju as a whole, he’d always been rather fond of Tobirama personally – my greatest challenge, he used to say, eyes sparkling with life as he thought up new ways to fight him, an excitement that put a smile on his face in a way nothing else could during those terrible winters when they were living off of little more than dreams of the future. My eternal rival, as those awful Maito people like to say.)

“That’s what happens when you put your trust in people,” Touka concludes, looking back down at the work she’s been doing. “Take those people away, and what do you have? Nothing. The only reason he’s not dead already is because Hashirama’s last request was for him to care for the village.” 

This is probably true.

“Is there any way to stop it?” Madara finally asks. 

Touka looks amused. “Rethinking your position on my little cousin?”

“No! Just…”

“He’s growing on you? Not unlike mold on bread?”

Madara is not going to laugh. He’s not. He’s being serious.

“I have an ongoing project with him,” he says instead. “I don’t want him to disappear before that’s done.”

They’re making ridiculous amounts of progress, actually; Madara’s not a scientist the way Tobirama is and he hadn’t realized the difference it would make. At the beginning, he thought Tobirama took too many notes, but as they continued experimenting (Hashirama’s amazing recuperative abilities had apparently been a subject of significant scientific interest for years, which meant that Tobirama had lots of his brother’s blood hidden away as samples in his labs, enough for dozens and dozens of experiments without even making a significant dent in the pile) they were able to cross-compare that data and let it lead them wherever it could go.

Sure, Tobirama also vetoed any plan that involved Madara testing their results on himself, but given that the first test they’d done on a sample -

(eyeballs are mostly water, Tobirama said dismissively, give me three weeks and I can make a jutsu to create temporary – albeit imperfect – replacements to use in the experiments, and terrifyingly enough he actually had)

- had caused the sample eyes to literally explode, Madara thinks that was probably a good idea.

Tobirama’s also been making noises recently about wanting to see the stone tablet even though he won’t be able to read the text itself (he extracted more of the details from Madara by arguing that there might be hidden clues in the precise text about the Rinnegan, though obviously Madara hasn’t explained the exact nature of the Infinite Tsukuyomi), which Madara is very strongly against due to his sincere belief that Tobirama will find a way to read it even without a Sharingan because the man is just like that, but which he is starting to think might be inevitable.

Unless Tobirama dies first, of course.

“He won’t stick around just for a project,” Touka says disdainfully. She doesn’t ask what they’re working on; she clearly doesn’t give a fig for science except for the edge it gives her in battle, which is a position Madara can respect. “No matter how interesting. Listen, it’s practically the unofficial Senju clan motto: ‘on this point we do not bend but only break.’ He put everything he had to live for in Hashirama, and Hashirama is gone. He’s broken. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Even the curse of hatred can be broken,” Madara points out. He doesn’t need to point at himself as a walking, talking example; he feels that’s pretty much implied. “I understand that his principle is his brothers’ happiness, which he can’t achieve anymore, but still! There must be something that can save him from himself.”

“Sure. Find him a new brother.”

“Be serious.”

“I am. I mean, maybe not a brother, but something like it; I’m pretty sure he was smart enough to make his principle something more like ‘loved ones’ rather than ‘brothers’ to avoid having to deal with an unexpected sister or something...shouldn’t this be clear to you? Your own grief about losing your brother persisted until you were hit with the shock of losing another one, right?”

That’s not exactly how Madara would have put it, given how complicated and sometimes not-entirely-fraternal his relationship with Hashirama was, the way there was always an unspoken sense of anticipation that there could be much more between them, but – yes. Basically.

“That’s the problem with people,” Touka says. “People die. Ideas live forever.”

Madara looks at her sidelong. “What’s your ‘idea’, then?”

“None of your fucking business is what it is.”

Right. Not talked about, got it.

A long few moments of silence.

“…where would you even get someone a new brother?”

“That’s it!” Touka exclaims, standing up. “I give up!” 

Madara frowns as he watches her storm out. No wonder Izuna was always so annoyed when he did that – she didn’t even answer his question! 

(The idea that maybe there isn’t an answer – that maybe Tobirama is going to die sooner rather than later, and it was even odds whether it would be by his own hand or if he’d go the traditional route of volunteering for a mission with low odds of success – isn’t worth thinking about. 

Why the death of the man who killed his last brother isn’t worth thinking about…is just going to have to be something else he’s just not going to think about.)

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Just Another Soldier Chapter 6

Yon-Rogg x reader

Summary: Some reminiscing and Vers learning more about the pair

Word Count: 1271

Y/N couldn’t help the cough that wracked her body as the dust from, well, everywhere around her inevitably ended up in her lungs. She fought to remain as still as possible; after all, fidgeting as a sniper was more than a little frowned upon. Given that she was only slightly trained as a sniper, though, she was proud of how stable she managed to be despite the dirt.

Next to her, Yon-Rogg shot her a concerned look.

She gave him a thumbs up to tell him that she was fine.

They were eighteen and she had been together for two years. Normally, they would never have been deployed together, but the Kree were desperate on this front. Conditions had been deteriorating on this planet for a while, and most of their snipers had been killed in a raid. Both Y/N and Yon-Rogg were decent with a rifle, so they’d been deployed as a team. Not long after they arrived, supply lines had been cut, trapping everyone and accelerating the worsening conditions.

Y/N couldn’t quite recall the last time she’d seen Yon-Rogg without dirt smudges all over his face.

Overall, everything around them could be summed up in two words: ‘cold’ and ‘mud.’ They slept in a house with a dirt floor. Thin hay mattresses had been shoved against the walls haphazardly, leaving the rest of the space clear to allow the frantic comings-and-goings of the Starforce soldiers. Privacy was a ting of the past as soldiers just lay down next to each other to sleep, and typically just passed out from exhaustion rather than fall asleep traditionally.

Y/N could barely lift her heavy boots as she headed back to the ‘barracks.’ Everyone had ditched the heavy, easily recognizable Starforce uniforms in favor of earth toned army fatigues weeks before. Her rifle made little sound as she leaned it in her assigned place against the wall.

Now began the search for her partner. He’d been relieved a few hours earlier, leaving Y/N to work with one of the men that’d doubted her back in their cadet days. Fortunately, their job didn’t permit much talking.

She spotted him lying near the middle of the east wall, already sound asleep. And admittedly there was only a little room between him and the rather large man on the next ‘mattress.’ Of course, she squeezed in by lying partially on top of her lover. Which of course startled him awake. Thankfully, he recognized that it was just her before the instinct to strike his attacker kicked in.

“What are you doing?” he mouthed more than whispered as she started to carefully pull up the light blue, threadbare shirt he was wearing.

“Relax. Have a little fun,” she smirked against his lips.

“Darling, we are absolutely surrounded by other people. We can’t—” He cut himself off as her hand returned down his now-unbuttoned pants.

“You confuse me for someone who cares. C’mon, Yon, it’s been weeks.”

Golden eyes sparkled with mischief. “If you insist.”

The whole affair was more than a little against the rules, and naturally had to be as subtle as possible. Clothes stayed on and were merely pushed aside while they kept movement to a minimum. Despite the miserable conditions, Y/N couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips because of the man above her. Yon-Rogg looked more tired than she’d ever seen him, the bags and redness around his eyes exacerbated the issue, but she wouldn’t change a thing about the choices that’d led them to this point.

“I love you,” she muttered against his lips.

Instead of a verbal response, he kissed her lips slowly.

From there, neither of them could last long. Between the danger of getting caught and the pent-up emotions, it was over quickly. They just rested their foreheads together and panted quietly.

They were still too … interlocked to be innocent when someone started walking down the middle pathway, and Yon-Rogg’s sleepy/blissed out answer was to cover her face with his hand. She managed to stay quiet until the person was gone, but Y/N then proceeded to break down into snickers. It only took a couple seconds for him to realize how silly that move had been and join in on the laughter.

After pulling his—admittedly quite dirty—hand off her face, she leaned up to peck a kiss to his smiling lips. It was a testament to how tired he was when he just moved to smile into her neck as she glanced back over her shoulder to make sure the coast was still clear.

“You need to get some sleep,” she chuckled. “We’ve been on-duty too long, and you’re starting to look like a drug addict.”

“Thanks. Love you too, darling.”

“Hush. You know I worry.”

“Fair enough.” With that, he flopped down and his breathing almost instantly leveled out.

“Told you so.”

“Do you remember when we were stationed on Volda?” Y/N asked one night onboard the ship.

She’d been assigned on a mission with Yon-Rogg’s team just like the two of them hadn’t wanted. They were en-route to the planet where a contact was to meet him, but with no close jump point, it was a bit of a long trip. Most of the crew had followed their Commander’s orders and had taken the extra time to rest; therefore, they were unconscious in the bunks. Y/N, on the other hand, was filling the position of pilot with her partner as navigator.

Little did she know that Vers was ears-open, awake and eager to hear whatever she could about the couple.

As the blonde learned was standard about the two of them, Y/N’s seemingly random question about a planet Vers knew to be a … barely habitable one, managed to pull an otherwise uncharacteristic chuckle from Yon-Rogg.

“I remember how fucking dreary it was. Sometimes I swear I’m still washing off the same grime.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the smell to be honest,” Y/N laughed quietly.

Amused golden eyes turned to look at the pilot. “Any particular reason you’re bringing up that cesspool?”

“Just thinking. I have never seen you that exhausted again, even to this day.”

“You didn’t look that well-rested yourself, darling.”

“Still … we’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we?”

“From foot soldiers slumming around in a house with a dirt floor stealing any moment together we could?” His voice took on an almost wistful tone. “I’d have to agree. We’ve come a long way, yes.”

“Or maybe not as far as we’d like to think. I mean, aren’t we headed somewhere just as shitty?”

“You’re forgetting that we get to leave afterwards. And there is more … privacy,” this was accompanied by a slight squeeze to her knee. “And the sleeping arrangements have certainly improved.”

“What? The hay didn’t do it for you?”

“Absolutely not.” A console beeping ended their little trip down memory lane. “What is that?”

Vers could hear several switches being flipped and assumed it was the pilot trying to solve the unknown issue. “Proximity alarm. Something got close.”

“Define ‘close.’”

“As in ‘way too fucking’ if it’s setting off that specific sensor.”

“Should I wake the others?”

“No, but fasten your harness. I’m getting us the hell out of here before whatever it was comes back.”

Somehow, Vers nodded off the ensuing several minutes of tense silence. Even so, the nostalgic mood had effectively been killed by the stressful situation. The couple didn’t share another word outside of their duties until it was time to trade shifts with the next pair.

[real-sotenbori-hours]

Receive You: The Madtype - Majima Goro x Fem Reader, Part 1

Summary: The year is 2006 in Kamurocho, Tokyo, Japan and our favorite antihero angel, Majima Goro is outta the yakuza and enjoying life, running the Majima Corporation. Though he deals mainly in construction, his [Zero] days always left him nostalgic for nightlife as a member of the service industry and now a proprietor. He owns a nice little karaoke bar, Takara - something low key, offering secluded tables and party rooms, bottle service, two full bars and a Takoyaki stand right out front.  He spends most of his daytime at the Kamurocho Hills construction site and averages a few nights a week at Takara overseeing operations, schmoozing guests (often vendors, permit holders and officials in the construction business) and occasionally slinging drinks when he’s in the midst of a big pitch or, knowing Majima, an itch for theatrics. 👹 

As his top performer at Takara, the money and rush of nightlife aren’t the only perks to your job... if ya know what I mean. 

 Warnings: NSFW, smut, public masturbation, public trysts, profanity/blasphemy, a touch of B&D and a light dash of fluff...

***

 You love tending bar. Especially in a chill place with a solid staff for an incredible owner. Nothing gives you more pride than servin’ up fine drinks to fine customers under the watchful eye of your fine-ass boss. You take great pride in what you do, but that pride blazes like a wildfire when you think of the business patriarch that benefits most from your impeccable work ethic.

 He’s brash, yet charismatic... he’d do anything for the people he cares about. You love that. He’s wild-eyed yet up close, in the thick of peak hours, he’s attentive and spry, always within earshot to lend a hand.

   It’s unnerving. 

 You’ve learned so much from him. You respect him.   

And you please yourself while thinking of him.   

Almost every night you’d get home, plagued by the faint scent of his cologne and the flush you’d feel every time you so much as brushed past him. Every smirk and nod he’d give you, every conversation... some lighthearted and fun and some even more serious, real, emotionally raw... after putting product away and wiping everything down, you’d be sitting there, counting money, bullshitting and at times, venting. You bonded.

   You figured that over time the more you got to know him, the easier it’d be to shake your insatiable thirst for him. You figured wrong.

   You’ve never been shy about your sexual appetites, but you like to let it build with a slow burn, like easing into a hot bath. A couple of pointed innuendos here, a couple of genuine yet direct compliments there... just to gauge his reaction.

   The first time you let slip anything flirtatious, he grinned widely and later pressed two fingertips into your lower back just above your ass, whispering against your neck, letting you know he was right behind you, passing you on your right. A warm mist shot through you and you wanted more than anything to grab his hand, to place those very fingertips against you, to let your body tell him what you couldn’t yet find the words to say. You wanted your body to show him what he does to you.

   But ya couldn’t. The nerve wasn’t there, just the desire, festering like an infection. But you could keep waiting... after all, he’s worth it. 

 More than anything in this entire world, you wanted him to dick you down. You wanted him to take you hard, fast, with the hunger of a desert animal. Against a wall, bent over any permitting surface, pressed up to the floor-to-ceiling window of the nearest love motel, or all of the above and then some. You wanted him to fuck you into the mattress and then pull you into his arms, burning your skin with his own. You wanted to fuck him senseless. You wanted to make him feel good. You wanted your name to roll off his tongue as he’d topple over the edge, meeting you there. 

 The more you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t just sex that you were after. If you’re being blunt with yourself, you’re pretty sure that you’re in love with Majima Goro. Sure, you love to fuck and you’re used to feeling intensely for every partner you’ve enjoyed... but this one’s different. Maybe it’s because you know that the Mad Dog of Shimano will never let anyone get close to him, that he guards his vulnerabilities not unlike a junkyard dog, feral and frothing, barely restrained. Maybe you like a challenge.

 Or maybe you just want every bit of him that you can possibly get, and if your heart breaks in the process, so be it. Maybe you just want to let your womanhood decide on this one. 

 You want to show him how deserving he is of unconditional love, support, adoration... you want him to see that his past needn’t define him, lest he prefers it. You want him to have the choice. You want to be the woman that shows him he can love and be loved... and you don’t fucking care what kind of danger that could bring you. You’ve never met anyone like him before and you’ll be damned if you let him slip away without making your affections abundantly clear. If he turns away, at least you’ll know, and you could move on. But it doesn’t seem like he would refuse you...

   At work you’d charm everyone in your path, separating them from inordinate amounts of their yen. You fucking loved it. And you loved how closely Majima took notice... if he only knew how wholesome and loving you are inside, how you yearn to lavish him and only him with every ounce of your true tenderness...

  You were sure he could read your intentions, he had to know how you felt by now. Your pining for him was only growing by the day, by the hour... you weren’t quite sure just how long you could keep yourself from blurting out, “Majima-san, I wanna swallow ya whole!” the next time you were alone with him... but as fortune would have it, you would get your chance sooner than you thought.

 ***

   Arriving at Takara, you’re eager to set up. Glassware clean enough that it sparkles, garnishes so fresh you’d almost think them fake, all chairs perfectly aligned, inviting, boasting of the good times and grand nights to follow. You love making this place shine.

   You turn the booth lights down, set the music and take another look around for anything missing. Realizing that the menus haven’t yet been put out, you head to the back office to retrieve them.

   They sat in a neat stack at the edge of Majima’s desk and as you near them, your heart skips and plunges straight between your thighs. His black leather gloves lie right beside them.

   Fuuuuck... you’ve ached at the idea of feeling them on your skin, in any and every way. You want to be spanked with them, gripped by the hands that fill them, choked, smacked...you want to inhale the scent of them so fucking badly, the scent of leather paired with his skin, his pheromones... Jesus fucking Christ this is too much.

   You sneak your head out of the office door, scanning the room for any sign of life. Satisfied that as you thought, you’re the first to arrive and that no one else is here yet, you allow yourself to get brazen. Besides, the only cameras in the house that work are in the lounge and back of house, it’s how Majima keeps an eye on things throughout shifts so he knows when certain guests arrive or if he’s needed right away. You never questioned it, as any closed door meetings that took place in the back office would surely be of an extremely classified nature and you fully understood that a dummy cam was advantageous for whatever they do back here.

   Double-taking once again, the milliseconds are pounding in your temples, your pulse picks up as you wonder, did he leave his gloves here last night? You couldn’t recall, but suppose it doesn’t matter. He usually comes in after service has begun, so it’s possible he’ll arrive at his usual in-time... so if you do the math once again, this means you are all alone and his gloves are still sitting on the desk, teasing you to indulge yourself.

   Fuck it.

 You glide towards the desk, grabbing the glove closest you. Bringing it to your lips, you inhale, closing your eyes, shuddering... fucking salivating. You wipe the corner of your mouth with your other hand and sigh, taking the glove to your cheek, picturing him stroking you with the side of his leather-clad hand. It really is too much. 

 You lean onto the desk, perching on its corner, widening your seat, slipping your hand down your pants, past your waistband... you’re gonna take this moment to let go... and satiate one of your many fantasies about Majima fucking Goro. You’re too hot to care right now, and this is so much easier than trying to make a move on his fine ass anyway.

   You slip your hand into the right handed glove and get to workin’, rubbing your clit with one hand while fully prepared to slide at least two fingers into yourself when the time—when you— come.

   You start panting, trying hard to keep it quiet in case anyone else is in the building... but the moan escaping your lips is beyond your control. You grab the remaining glove, bringing it to the tip of your nose as you’re nearing the edge already, pressing your leather clad thumb on your clit, you begin to convulse, two seconds away from complete release when you hear the click of familiar steel toed boots striding along... closer and closer.

   You jump off the desk just as you hear the footsteps nearing the back office. Planting the gloves back in their respective place, you immediately grab the stack of menus as the door swings open.

   Trying to catch your breath, trying harder than ever in your life to posture yourself like it’s business as usual, you flip the top menu open and pretend to scour it, making sure it’s updated to reflect this weekend’s features as Majima saunters into the room, casually grabbing the stack of envelopes sitting in the tray hanging on the wall.

    “What’s up, Y/N-chan? Yer here early... place looks great!”

  “I’m glad, Majima-san. Thank ya.”   

He steps towards you, setting the envelopes down on the desk, his glance bee-lining straight to his gloves. Your pulse now shoots right up into your throat. Does he know? No fucking way.

   He chuckles and turns to look at you, appraisingly. As much as you’d relish this moment, you’re on the verge of a heart attack so you try to coolly break the silence, running your finger across the open menu in your hands. “Ah, the menus look good, Majima-san... I was thinkin’ we could start using a gloss card stock instead of regular paper, that way we could wipe them off at the end of the night instead of having to reprint them every other day...”

   He grins widely and tilts his head to the side. “Good thinkin’, Y/N-chan. I love where yer head’s at.”

   You pause... yikes. Can he tell that you’re shaking ever so slightly? Because you definitely feel like you’re sitting atop a washing machine right now.   

“Need a hand? I had all of ‘em reprinted so I can help ya set ‘em out...”  

Jeeeeeesus.  

You gulp. “Nah, I’ve got it covered, Majima-san. I appreciate it.” Right now, you desperately need to put as much distance between the two of you as possible or you’ll never regain your wits. Especially not in time to open to the public. His phone beeps and he pulls it from his jacket pocket, examining it with mild annoyance. You take this as your moment to escape, relieved at the distraction. Stepping back, you restack the menus, preparing to wrap your arms around them in order to fit them all in one hold, in one trip.

   Just before grabbing the tower of menus, he steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, slowly trailing it down to your lower back. “Mind grabbin’ my gloves fer me? I gotta take care of somethin’.”

  Your breath hitches as your hand shakily reaches for the black leather demons a foot away from you, taunting you to keep your cool. You grab them, wincing as he leans into you to meet your grasp, giggling. His cologne wafts before you, leaving you tingling, intoxicated. If you moved forward an inch, your lips would be at the nape of his neck.

   You feel like you’re gonna pass out. In the name of all that is holy, you just want him to take you against the wall and consume you in every way he sees fit. You want him to hurt you, as nothing hurts more than a desire that burns so fervently with no action. You feel like it’s killing you.

   He pulls away, still standing within a foot of you, his gaze still locked into yours. He slips each hand into each glove slowly, deliberately, all the while keeping unblinking eye contact. He reaches forward and quickly pinches the apple of your cheek with catlike speed, chuckling.

   “Alright, I’m outta here. Back in a bit, Y/N-chan!”

   He turns on his heel and as quickly as he appeared, vanishes.

   You’re panting like you just won the world championship for Hide-and-Seek. Fuck, that was close. You take one more deep breath, collecting the menus into your fully outstretched arms as you make for the door when this time, your heart actually stops.

   A sharp, tiny red light stares back at you, right where you’re standing, just above the door. Since FUCKING WHEN does the back office camera work?!  

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

 ***

 I set out to write this and I am not sorry for where my mind went. So unapologetic in fact that Part 2 is almost complete and I’ll be uploading it very shortly, alongside Part 1 of another Majima fic & Part 3 of my Loki fic, MATM... lemme know if you wanna be tagged in any of my Yakuza fics, for they are APLENTY! xxxxo <3

[thdorkmagnet]

Light of the Sun and Stars Chapter 18: An Unsettling Peace

Season finale time!

Summary: His whole life Marco Diaz has been raised by monsters, living under the cruel rule of their leader, Toffee. But one day Marco escapes into Mewni where he meets a magical princess and Mewman like himself, who begins teaching him all about her world. Together they will learn about life, love, and the lights within each of them, as they change their world forever.

Chapter Synopsis: A relative peace has settled over Mewni after Toffee’s death as Star, Marco and the others recover and rekindle now that they are out of harm’s way. But it is a fragile one and now its time for Star to do her best to convince the Mewmans to move on from the past and start looking to a brighter future.

Check out my other stuff on Fanfiction! 

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters are owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney. All rights go to them.

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General Skullnick was in a terribly foul mood as she arrived back at the Butterfly Castle, along with the rest of the knights, gazing around at the quiet city in suspicion. She had been told that the town had been in need of dire assistance, the relatively unguarded town rumored to have been invaded by monsters during the course of the night and yet Skullnick couldn't see signs of any threats or danger anywhere around the eerily calm village. Meaning she had been misinformed, just some rambled worries from a bunch of paranoid guards, claiming to have seen a bunch of explosions just outside of town. Word had spread far and fast to her outpost at the edge of the kingdom and with each story she heard (each more crazy than the last) the more concerned she had become. Until finally, she had suited up and her and her men had made their way to the inner kingdom, ready to fight off the monster scum who had managed to invade their home.

Instead she found her and her entourage of trained soldiers marching through the quiet town, undisturbed. It was late midday when they arrived, the people apparently far over their paranoia from the previous night. Meaning this whole thing had just been a giant waste of her time.

And yet, something still seemed off to Skullnick. She couldn't put her finger on it but things just didn't seem right in the village, the air thick with uncomfortable tension. And as she looked out at the gathered crowd, she finally pieced together the problem, as she noticed that the Mewmans seemed on edge about something, picking up on their little, anxious exchanges, a whispered conversations here and there, a nervous look shared when they thought no one was looking. Just small things. But they quickly added up, the general realizing that the relative peace in the town was merely an illusion, everyone still obviously shaken by whatever had happened overnight, making them all hesitant and unsure. Meaning it was now Skullnick's job to try and ease the population's troubled mind before things could be blown anymore out of proportion by the oftentimes skittish Mewmans. That meant she needed to get to the bottom of things there and as quickly as possible, too. Skullnick concerned that the smallest noise could set them off into a mob-like panic. And she knew just the place to start, looking up at the glorious and mighty towers of the Butterfly's palace as it drew closer into view.

Jak and Dex were already waiting as Skullnick and her men arrived to the front gates of the castle, the two sharing a nervous look before addressing their approaching superior officer. “General Skullnick!” they said as one, pounding fists into their chests in respect and bowing their heads slightly.

“Jak! Dex! What the heck has been going on out here, I've been getting distress calls nonstop for hours?!” she immediately growled, making the two of them instantly uncomfortable.

The two guards gulped, looking even more troubled than before as Dex said sheepishly, “Well, uh, funny story.” Skullnick's eyes narrowed on the guard, making him hesitant to continue. “J-Jak tell her what happened,” he said his voice a squeak, giving his partner a small push.

“Oh, okay then,” Jak said, looking equally as tense, his voice a nervous stutter. “Umm, w-well the thing about that is... y-you see it was a weird set of circumstances that uhhh....”

Skullnick just sourly watched the two try to stumble their way around an explanation, quickly losing patience, while behind her all the other knights rolled their eyes. Until finally, she snapped, “Get to the point, you idiots!”

The two jumped at the raised tone, both of them shaking, neither wanting to continue, until finally Jak blurted out, “Toffee attacked last night!”  

The knights all froze, trying to process the shocking news, even Skullnick stunned by the unexpected statement, Dex glaring at his partner. “What?!” she finally manged to say. “Toffee was here? He invaded Mewni?!”  

“Technically yes,” Dex said softly.

“How did they manage to get in under your watch?!” Skullnick roared in a scolding voice.

“One of the barriers was down, he and the other monsters snuck in through that,” Jak explained.

“But technically they never reached the city,” Dex pointed out. “Thanks to Princess Star,” he added.

“What?” Skullnick asked with concern. “Star was involved? How could you let that happen?!” Dex instantly covering his mouth unable to believe he had just said that out loud. He looked to Jak with a pleading look, the guard saying, “Uhh, no need to worry, General Skullnick. I assure you, she's fine. As our the rest of the guards. Everything's fine.”

Skullnick let out a deep sigh, before growling in a slightly tired tone, “No everything is far from fine. Nothing about this is fine. This is the second time that slimy lizard has managed to sneak into the kingdom.” She began pacing back and forth for a moment, deep in thought. “We need to stop him. We have to find a way to track him down somehow.”

“Well actually, we don't really have to worry about that anymore,” Jak spoke up.

Skullnick whipped around to face the startled guard. “What exactly does that mean? You know where he's at?!”

The two shared a look before Dex cleared his throat, hesitantly saying, “Well okay, you're probably never gonna believe this, but uh... Toffee's dead.”

Everything went silent, the guards all blinking once as the information sunk in, Skullnick giving the two guards a baffled look, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Dead? What do you mean he's dead?! Why?! How?!” she questioned them, the normally level-headed general becoming quickly flustered.

“There was a rebellion within the monsters, they turned on the lizard and killed him,” Jak softly explained.

“And how do you know this exactly?” Skullnick demanded, at a loss how two measly palace guards had come across such pivotal information.

The two guards shared a look, before giving their harsh leader a sheepish look, “Would you believe the monsters told us?”

“What?!” Skullnick roared, making the both of them jump.

“It's true, ma'am,” Dex quickly said. “They all came here earlier asking to try and negotiate peace.”

“HOW ABSURD?!” Skullnick's harsh voice boomed, the troll reaching a point of anger unlike anything she had felt in years. “Where are they at?!” she continued in deadly rumble, looking around the area needlessly. “Where are the cowards hiding?!”

She eventually looked back to the two frightened guards, able to tell from their faces that there was something they didn't want to tell her. “What?!” she asked sharply.

Jak ducked behind Dex, forcing him alone to face the angered general. “T-They're, umm, in the c-castle, ma'am,” he said, giving her a timid smile.

“You let them INSIDE?!” Skullnick shouted at the guard, getting right up in his face, somehow her voice managing to raise more and more as she screamed at the top of her lungs to Dex. “Are you completely brain dead?! Do you have any idea what you two have done?!”

“B-But, ma'am-” Dex timidly tried to defend himself.

“Shut up!” she yelled, the guard closing his mouth once again. She finally pulled away from her subordinate, but Dex was far from relaxed, visibly shaking as he tried not to meet her eye again. She turned to her group of knights, practically seething with rage, all of her men standing at immediate attention. “All of you go inside and secure the monsters,” she commanded in a deep growl.

“Actually,” Dex interrupted, gulping as the general's focused gaze narrowed onto him. But he forced himself to continue. “No one is permitted to lay a hand on the monsters.”

“Under who's authority?” Skullnick asked angrily.

“Princess Star's,” Jak explained.

Skullnick looked visibly shocked for a second, but she quickly pushed it aside, still too angry to think anymore on that. “Then I need to speak with Princess Star, now!” Skullnick demanded, trying to push past the two guards, preparing to give the girl the scolding of her life. “Where is she?!”

Despite their fear, the two guards held the troll general back, Dex stating, “Sorry, Ma'am but Princess Star is occupied at the moment and has been given strict orders not to be disturbed.”

“Occupied?!” Skullnick roared. “What could possibly be more important than monsters running loose through the castle?!”  

…

Marco slowly opened his eyes, his whole body throbbing and his head feeling like it was full of liquid, though his neck felt the worst of it all, the whole area burning with pain. He tried to remember where he was or what had happened before, but his mind was drawing a blank. The last thing he remembered Star had rescued him from Toffee, shooting a powerful beam at the terrifying lizard, but Marco couldn't recall anything after that. He still felt too weak to sit up yet, so he just tried to get a look around where he was at, hoping it might help jog his memory. He was in his bed at Butterfly Castle, tucked tightly beneath his soft sheets. How had he gotten back here? Had he passed out? He figured he must have. But what had happened afterwords, though, with Toffee? Did Star and the others manage to beat him? Had he escaped? Were they all right?

Marco went to put a hand to his aching forehead, all the swirling thoughts only making his headache worsen, but he found himself unable to lift his hand, something laying ontop of it. He sat up slightly, his gaze landing on the sleeping Star sitting in a chair beside his bed, her body currently slumped over as she rested peacefully, her hand covering his own. Marco blinked once in surprise, caught off guard by the breathtaking sight of his best friend. He opened his mouth to say her name, but instead all that came out was a loud cough, his throat still sore from being strangled.

Star shifted in her sleep, the sound waking her from her slumber, as she blinked open her eyes. “What?” she mumbled still half-asleep, a far-off look in her blue pupils. That was until she spotted the still-coughing Marco, immediately crying, “Marco!” Before the boy could even respond, Star jumped out of her chair, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. She held him close to her, trying to comfort and protect him there in her warm embrace, all the fear and worry she had been feeling for the last couple of hours finally melting off of her.

Marco's whole body tingled from her touch as his cheeks grew hot once again. After a couple of seconds, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be buried in her warmth. Finally, Star broke off the hug, pulling away from him and sitting on the side of his bed, ignoring the chair, which had fallen on its side when the blond had jolted up from it. “Star?” Marco tried again, his voice a squeak. “What happened? And where are the others?” he asked, looking around the room. “D-Did Toffee, d-did he... he-”

“Shhh,” Star shushed soothingly, putting a hand on his. “You don't have to worry about him. Toffee's gone. That monster can never hurt you ever again.”

“Are you sure?” Marco asked, still sounding distressed, unable to believe he was finally free from Toffee's wrath.

“I'm sure,” Star said, holding back a shudder as she recalled the bone-chilling scream she had heard echoing around the dark castle walls of Toffee's home.

“But the others,” Marco insisted, worriedly. “Are they-”

“They're fine,” Star interrupted. “Everything's fine, you're safe now.”

But her words did little to phase Marco, the boy still looking upset about something, his eyes alive and filled with pain. “Hey, you okay,” she asked in concern.

Marco's eyes filled with tears, as he shook his head silently. “Marco, what's wrong?” she pressed, leaning a bit closer to him, his uncharacteristic behavior frightening her more than a little.

Finally, his resolve seemed to break, as tears burst from his eyes, streaming freely down his face. “I-I was so scared, Star,” he sobbing deeply. “I-I thought I would never see you again. I thought he was gonna take me away from you forever.” Marco's whole body shook as he chocked out his sorrowful confession. “I tried to be strong, I really did. Because you told me you would save me... b-b-but when Toffee- when he- he... I-I was just so afraid!!”

Star felt her heart break, as Marco threw his arms around her in a hug, seeking her comfort and affection from his worry. She held onto him closely, trying to sooth his heavy thoughts and fill him with warmth and love. “I'm so sorry, Marco,” she said, sounding chocked up as well. “I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I wish I could have protected you better.”

Marco held onto the girl tightly, as if afraid she would be pulled from his grasp again, trying to soak in as much of her warmth as he could in between gasps for breath. “But you're the one who saved me,” Marco pointed out. “I saw you when you busted through that crystal. You were so amazing and powerful.”

“Well to tell you the truth I barely remember any of that. All I could think about was getting to you,” Star admitted. She paused for a second before adding, “And I was really scared, too.”

“Why?” Marco asked.

Star pulled out of the hug, as she began gently wiping the tears from his cheeks, looking deep into his eyes, Marco seeing all the worry and fear she had been experiencing shining in her sky blue irises. “Because I almost couldn't reach you. I almost lost you and that terrified me more than anything in the world.”

“It did?” Marco asked, his cheeks flushed and his heart pounding in excitement. “Why is that?”

“Because you're my boyfriend,” Star confessed. “And you just mean so much to me, Marco. Ever since I met you, I've had the time of my life getting to know you and being near you. You are the most important person in my life and I would be lost without you here.”

Then to emphasis her point, she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, pouring all her love and tenderness into the simple act. After a couple of breathtaking seconds, she pulled away, while keeping a steady gaze on Marco, watching him for his reaction. Marco blinked once, before he smiled one of his cute signature smiles, the sadness finally gone from his face. “I feel the same way!” he blurted out, before lowering his head a bit from embarrassment at the sudden declaration, leaving Star to gush over his irresistible sweetness. “You are just so amazing, Star,” he continued softly. His eyes finally met hers again, causing his cheeks to flush even more. “I'm glad I got the chance to meet you.”

“Me too,” Star said, moving so she was now laying beside him. She gently pulled his head down so it was resting on her shoulder, the two just silently enjoying the moment, content just being together once again, knowing that at last their trouble was behind them. Finally, the two pulled away, Star leaning in to kiss Marco again, but was stopped as Marco's voice cut through the moment. “Star?” he said, the blond royal stopping mid-kiss.

“Yes, Marco,” Star said, unsure why the boy had chosen now to speak.

“I have a question,” he said, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.  

“What's that?” Star asked, wondering what could be on her bestie's mind.  

“What's a boyfriend?” he asked, cocking his head to the side with genuine curiosity.  

There was a few seconds of silence, before Star burst out into laughter, shaking her head at his cute naivety. “I'll explain later,” she said.

Then the two, as one, pulled into another kiss, their cheek marks both glowing bright white as they did. They both stayed like that for a while, as the kiss deepened, Star moving closer, his presence intoxicating to her and Marco gently moving his lips against hers, relishing in the pure amazement the two were experiencing right then, aware of nothing else but each other.

Eventually, the door to the room opened, Jackie and Janna walking in with smiles on their faces, Jackie with a bouquet of beautiful flowers and Janna with a box full of chocolates, get-well gifts for their hurt friend, but once they spotted Star and Marco they froze in place. The girls mouths dropped open in shock, Janna quickly drawing her phone out of her pocket about to take a picture to commemorate the moment, but was thwarted as Jackie grabbed ahold of her arm, pulling her out of the room. The door slowly closed behind them, Jackie taking care to make as little noise as possible, leaving the door barely open a crack.

The skater girl sighed, glad she hadn't interrupted their moment, wanting her two friends to have all the happiness they deserved, especially after what they had just went though. “Welllll,” Janna's smirking voice cut through her thoughts, Jackie not surprised to see the girl giving her a meaningful look.

“Well what?” Jackie asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Janna held out a hand, saying in a suggestive tone, “I believe there is still the matter of payment.”

Jackie just eyed her creepy roommate's outstretched hand, with an annoyed glare. “Really, Jan,” Jackie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “After seeing that...” she pointed to the door. “...this is the first thing you do.” she gestured back to Janna's still begging hand.

“Hey, I'm a simple girl with simple needs,” Janna said slyly, shrugging.

“Can't we just take a moment to think about how great this is? I mean are two best friends are officially a couple. How can you not be happy for them?”

“I am happy for them,” Janna admitted. “Buttt, I'm still me, which means I'm gonna need some fulfillment for winning the bet, like right now.”

Jackie just sighed, before reaching in her pocket to pull out the cash for her greedy friend. Until, she stopped, an idea popping into her head. “Double or nothing,” she quickly blurted.

Janna leaned forward, curiously. “I'm listening,” she said.

“Well since they're dating now, I bet you I can set up the perfect first date for the two and by the end Star and Marco will be closer than ever,” she hypothesized.

“What happened to not interfering?” Janna asked smugly.

“I think that ship has already sailed,” Jackie responded. “I mean technically speaking you and I both broke like every rule of the last bet so it should have already been called off.”

“Fine, deal,” Janna said, shaking her friend's hand. “But I think we both know with those two's track record there is no way everything will go perfectly fine. More than likely some magical problem or monster issue will get in the way. Heck maybe even both.”

“Well we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?” Jackie answered confidently.

“Excuse me, girls.” The two turned to see all the monsters hovering around them, with anxious expressions. “Has my son awakened yet?” Buff Frog asked, with obvious concern.

“What are you all doing here?” Jackie asked in surprise. “I thought you were all being kept in custody.”

“Yeah we were but we snuck out so we could see, Marco,” Bearicorn explained. “We were all really worried.”

“Pluzzz we heard that general troll lady wazz here,” Boo Fly buzzed, sounding clearly frightened at the idea. “Zzzhe'zzz really zzzcary!”

“Okay fair,” Janna said, even the creepy girl herself was admittedly afraid of the grouchy leader. “But weren't you being watched by the guards. How did you get away?”

“This weird hyper girl helped us sneak out,” Beard Deer explained, pointing behind him. And on cue, StarFan13 popped out from behind the rugged monster shouting, “Helllooo!” before snapping a picture of all of them, rendering the whole room blind. “Ohmygosh, I can't believe Star's letting monsters into the castle now, that is just so cool!!”  the hyper girl excitedly cheered, pressing her hands against her cheeks, her eyes somehow turning into actual stars as she thought of her blond heroine.

The others all just stared at her awkwardly, as the fan girl continued her rant, until Buff Frog once again asked the two startled girls, “Is Marco awake?”

Jackie nodded her head. “Yep, he just woke up,” the skater said. “Star's with him.”

Buff Frog let out a sigh of relief, his primal fear finally wearing off. “But he's kinda in the middle of something right now,” Janna hesitantly added.

“Middle of something?” Buff Frog questioned.

“Yeah,” Jackie said. “So I don't think they want to-”

“Oh my gosh, are little Marco is kissing a girl!” Lobster Claws yelled, as he peeked through the small crack in the door. The others all gasped, before stampeding over to the door, all of them fighting as they tried to look through the tiny opening, StarFan13 fighting her way through the crowd with a fury as she prepared to take a picture of the moment she had been waiting for. “-be disturbed,” Jackie finished needlessly.

Within Marco's room, Star and Marco finally broke off the kiss, as Star looked around the room quizzically. “What is it?” Marco asked breathlessly, his cheeks still pooling with blood.

“Did you hear something?” Star asked, her cheeks equally as red. Just then, the door flew open as the monsters all collapsed into the room in a huge pile, Star and Marco jumping in surprise. They all groaned in pain for a second, before Marco (finally recovering from his shock) exclaimed, “Guys!”

“Marco!” they all responded, before rushing over to the boy's bed, all of them hugging and fussing over the boy, asking him how he was feeling and/or congratulating him on getting to date the beautiful princess. The boy just smiled, loving all the attention he was getting, which made Star's heart float with joy to see him so happy. “One at a time, guys,” Star said in laughter. “Don't crowd him!”

The room was soon alive with festive energy as everyone settled down into talking and reminiscing, as they celebrated their triumphant victory over the hated lizard. They obliged the princess' request, each taking a turn to get to greet the eager boy, meaning Star was finally able to get a chance to talk to all of Marco's adopted family without all of them trying to kill or threaten her, which was nice. StarFan13 surprised the both of them as she pulled them into a crushing hug going on and on about how amazing it was that the two were now boyfriend and girlfriend, Marco still looking to the blond for an explanation, which Star did her best to give once she got her breath back. Jackie and Janna gave Marco their gifts, which he gratefully hugged them over, making the both of them smile ear to ear, the boy's joy still as infectious as ever. But the best was probably the last, as Buff Frog took his turn, instantly sweeping the hooded boy into a fatherly hug, tears springing up into his eyes. It was a heartfelt moment, the room going quiet and just watching father and son reunite in elated silence.

“I sorry I had to send you away, my boy,” Buff Frog apologized. “I sorry you had to go it alone.”

“It's okay, Marco said reassuringly. “I'm glad you did. I made so many new friends and I got to make a life for myself, just like you wanted.”

“Yes you did. And I so proud of you, Marco,” Buff Frog whispered, which caused Marco to hold on tighter to his father, his approval making Marco's whole body warm up with self-pride. “You have become all that I wanted you to be. I only wish your parents were here to see this.”

“Me too,” Marco admitted, still feeling a small twist in his gut at the thought of them, but it passed quickly. “I missed you so much,” he added, his voice choking up a bit.

“And I miss you,”Buff Frog added, running a claw through the back of Marco's hair. “I think of you everyday you were gone.”

Star watched the two with solace, glad to see Marco getting some much needed attention from his father, but jumped a bit as she heard a throat clearing from the doorway, her and everyone else all turning to see one of the castle servants, even Marco and Buff Frog breaking off their hug. The servant was eying all of the monsters nervously, before stuttering, “Ummm, s-sorry to interrupt Princess Star.” He instantly bowed in respect to the young royal. “B-But your parents have just arrived and they, a-along with General Skullnick, would like to speak with you.” His face went pale as he eyed all the terrifying creatures that were watching him silently.

“Yes thank you, Manfred,” Star said in a dismissive manner, much to the servants relief. “Tell my parents I will be there in a moment.”

Manfred bowed again, before practically running away down the hallway. Once he was gone, Star took a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves. She had known she couldn't go long without them finding out, still she was dreading the meeting. And since it seemed Skullnick had gotten to them before her, this could prove to be a problem. She rose up from the bed, saying in an authoritative tone, “Welp, fun time's over. Let's get this over with.”

…

“I'm telling you the princess has lost her mind!” Skullnick's echoing roar vibrated through the thick castle walls, making all the guards standing on duty cringe, some even covering their ears. Queen Moon and King River however seemed unaffected by the yell, perhaps the two of them a little too use to hearing it over the years, maintaining their poise, as they sat up straight and refined on their thrones.

“Yes, thank you, General Skullnick,” Queen Moon sighed, trying to resist the urge to cover her head with her hand. “We get the idea.”

“But allowing monsters into the castle-” Skullnick tried again.

“Which we intend to discuss with Star, in detail, once she arrives,” Moon interrupted, giving her a chiding glare which silenced any further argument.

“I don't know, dear,” King River spoke up, his voice raising with every word. “The general has a point. I mean, monster scum in my castle, simply outrageous!”

“River,” Moon mumbled, shooting her husband a look.

“I mean they declared war on us,” River continued, ignoring his wife, crossing his arms in a childish manner. “And now the cowards come to our palace begging for forgiveness. I say we annihilate the lot of them.”

“We can't do that,” Moon argued, in a scolding tone. “Who knows what the monsters would do in retaliation. We might end up only making things worse. We should wait and see what Star has to say.”

“But dear,” River started again. “The monster's surrendering!”

“Yes, admittedly, it is quite strange. And Star taking their side and blindly trusting them is even stranger. I'm not sure what that girl is thinking.”

“Well you know what I think?! I think they found some kind of way to brainwash her!”

“That's preposterous! How would the monsters even be able to do that?!”

The argument continued, as Star listened in, putting an ear to the door, trying to wait for the right moment to enter. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be one, as the conversation instead only seemed to grow worse and worse. The others all watched Star, who were in turn watched suspiciously by the guards stationed there, waiting for her to let them know what was going on from the other side, but judging from the grimace on her face it didn't look too hopeful. And considering the enraged screams from the general about the “monster scum” they had all heard echoing through the hallway earlier, they were pretty convinced that their fears were correct.

“So, uhhh,” Lobster Claws hesitantly spoke up. “Should we just come back later?”

Star pulled away from the door, looking at all the monster's, plus Marco's, Jackie's, and Janna's, worried faces, not answering right away. “We can't,” Star said firmly. “My parents are actually willing to listen right now... sorta.” She bit her lip, looking unsure for a second, before taking a calming breath. “If we're going to try this, we have to do it now,” she finished, trying to sound confident, but they could all see the doubt in her eyes.

“Very well then,” Buff Frog said, looking far more ready than Star felt. “Let's talk to parents.”

Star gave the rest of the monsters a sheepish smile, saying, “Sorry guys, but its probably best if the rest of you stay here. I think the less of you that show up for this, the better. Otherwise you'll all just end up making the whole thing way more tense and stressful.” The blond rolled her eyes as she said this.

But none of them looked upset by this, nodding in understanding, while mentally they were sighing in relief, they had all been feeling quite anxious about facing the terrifying heads of Mewman power. Jackie and Janna led them away, arguing about which part of the castle to show the monsters first, while several nervous guards accompanied them, looking ready for the monsters to strike at any moment. Marco, however, stayed behind with Star and Buff Frog, ready to enter the room alongside them, much to Star's surprise. “Don't you want to go with the others?” Star asked the boy.

Marco shook his head. “No, I'd rather stay and see what happens, if that's alright,” Marco replied, courageously.

Star smiled, feeling braver to have the boy near. “Of course it's fine,” she said, shooting him a grateful smile. With that she turned back to the doors preparing to throw them open, but just before she did she looked to Buff Frog asking, “Ready?”

The frog nodded. Star took in a deep breath, steeling her nerves, muttering, “Here we go,” before throwing the doors wide open. The throne room went quiet as all eyes turned to the doorway, lingering on the young royal. Her parents were watching her closely, their faces unreadable, while beside them, Skullnick glared openly at the monster and princess, looking as suspicious as ever and Star felt her stomach twist uncomfortably, losing some of her much needed nerve.

She was about to take a step forward when she remembered something. Her parents still didn't know about Marco and she didn't want to add introducing them to the boyfriend she had been lying about onto her already overwhelming list of uncomfortable subjects she was gonna have to discuss with her parents. She turned to look back at Marco, who to his credit, was looking far less uncomfortable than she was expecting, prepared to follow Star inside. She whispered to him, “Wait here, okay.”

Marco nodded, letting Star and Buff Frog stride confidently into the room, the princess in the lead. She tried to keep her royal mask on as best as she could, trying not to let the general’s cold stare, falter her step, making herself stand as tall as possible. Once she was close enough, she curtseyed, just like she had been taught, while Buff Frog bowed low to the ground. As she stood up straight once more, she said in the most regal voice she could, “Mom, dad, I'm glad to see you back. You wanted to speak to me.”

“What is he doing here?!” Skullnick roared, pointing accusingly at the monster. “I thought all the monsters were in custody.”

“I thought Buff Frog should be here for this,” Star shot back, keeping her tone strong. “So that he could speak on behalf of himself and the rest of the monsters.” She looked over to her parents, silently asking them for permission.

“See I told you, my queen,” Skullnick said, ignoring the blond royal. “Star is siding with the monsters and now she is violating my orders.”

“Yes, thank you, General,” Moon said, keeping a firm scowl on the troll. “But if you wouldn't mind giving us some time to talk with our daughter... alone.”

Skullnick looked annoyed by the dismissal, but she bowed before storming out of the room. She stopped in front of Marco, who looked up at her blankly. “Something tells me you had something to do with this,” she hissed, crossing her arms. Marco said nothing, but he looked away from the monster guiltily. “Thought so.” Skullnick continued on down the hallway, muttering under the breath about the future state of Mewni and the way too trusting princess leading them all to bad times.  

“Now that we're alone,” Moon continued, relieved to not have the overworked general interrupting her every couple of seconds. “Buff Frog was it?”

“Yes, majesty,” Buff Frog said formally.

“Am I to presume you are the new leader of the monsters?” Moon asked.

“Da, I take over in Toffee's place,” Buff Frog replied honestly.

“Speaking of which, there have been a lot of rumors regarding what became of Toffee,” Moon continued, looking between her daughter and the monster equally. “Would either of you care to explain what actually happened?”

“Yes, is it true the lizard got what he deserved!” River exclaimed, causing Moon to sigh.

Star wasn't surprised by the question, she had been expecting them to ask this, having already thought up a good reply on the way there. “Buff Frog and the other monsters killed him,” she said, gesturing to the monster behind her.

“And where did this happen?” Moon asked, suspiciously. “We had no word of any such claims. We were told the monster's fled after their attack failed.”

“That is because it was at Toffee's castle, Your Highness,” Buff Frog answered.

“Then how do we know this to be true?” Moon asked, her tone harsh.

“Yes, how do we know this isn't some trick set up by Toffee?!” River added, sounding equally skeptical.

Buff Frog didn't know what to say to that, but Star quickly interjected. “It is true,” she said, forcefully.

“And how can you be sure?” Moon countered, raising an eyebrow at her daughter.  

“I, uhhh,” Star hesitantly started, really not wanting to finish the sentence. She closed her eyes before saying. “I was kind of there.”

Star didn't have to see to know her mother was probably freaking out right then, as she exclaimed in a panic, “You were there!”

Star flinched, before risking opening her eyes, greeted by her parents' shocked faces. “Yes,” she said, carefully.

“How did you even get there?” Moon asked.

“Buff Frog showed me the way?” Star answered, shamefacedly.

“Do you mean that you actually helped to defeat Toffee?” River asked in amazement. “The lizard that has plagued this land for over a decade. The undefeated creature of pure hate and evil.”

“Yeaaaahhhh,” Star said, reluctantly, giving them both a sheepish smile.  

River let out a hearty laugh. “Ha, that's my girl,” he said proudly, Moon just face palming, shaking her head at her husband's antics.

“River, I hardly think that is the point,” Moon scolded.

“I'm sorry, my dear,” River apologized. “But it is pretty spectacular that our daughter helped to defeat that horrid lizard, isn't it?!”

“No it most certainly is not,” Moon countered, before giving her daughter a scolding look. “Star you should no better than to put yourself at risk like that. What if you had been unable to defeat Toffee? What would you have done then? You could have been gravely injured.” Star looked down, her face the picture of guilt, Buff Frog just watching her sadly in silence. If there was one thing Star couldn't stand it was disappointing her mother, the blond having difficulty listening to her mother's lecture, her chiding tone heart-wrenching to the girl. “Honestly Star, what were you thinking? Going to the base of the monsters, without even telling anyone! What could have possessed you to-”

“It's not her fault!” Star was shocked as Marco, out of nowhere, jumped in front of her. He froze for a second as everyone's attention was directed to him, Marco swallowing hard, the unblinking stare of the two crowned monarchs making him anxious. “Please, Your Majesties, don't blame Star for what happened,” he continued, his voice shaking slightly. “It was my fault, not hers.” He lowered his head in shame.

“What are you doing?” Star whispered into the boy's ear.

“I'm not sure,” he replied, softly.

“Who are you?” Moon asked, drawing the hoodie-wearing boy's attention back.

“I'm Marco, Your Highness,” Marco responded, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice. He started to reach out a hand to shake, until Star coughed behind him, muttering “bow” as she did. He obeyed doing a quick, cute little bow in front of them.

“Marco?” Moon said in surprise. “Aren't you that orphan boy that danced with Star.”

“Yes, that's right,” Marco answered.

“And why do you say this is your fault, my lad?” River asked.

Marco thought for a moment before answering, “Because Star only went after Toffee to save me. And if I wasn't here then she never would have been in any danger in the first place.”

“Why would the lizard have targeted you?” River asked, suspiciously.

“Because Marco is my son,” Buff Frog interjected, moving so he was right behind the boy.

“Your son?!” Moon exclaimed.

“Yes. I brought him here to help him escape from Toffee, so he could live own life. But Toffee found him again and took him back.” Buff Frog closed his eyes, feeling a deep regret for not protecting Marco better. His gaze slowly switched to the princess, giving her a warm smile. “If it wasn't for your daughter, my little Marco could have been hurt. I owe her great debt.” He looked back to the startled king and queen saying assertively, “This why I wish to make peace. I see good in Mewmans, while Toffee has corrupted rest of monsters to see only bad. But I want to show them that the lizard was wrong. I want to start over, to create new world, a world that will be safe for my child.”

“That is... quite noble,” Moon said, softly, clearly caught off-guard by the monster's conviction. Her and River shared a look, neither sure what to do.

“I no I can not fix everything we have done to you,” Buff Frog continued, still trying to convince them. “But if you give me chance I hope to make things better for both of us.”

“Please, Your Majesties,” Marco spoke up, in a pleading tone. “I know what the monsters did to you in the past was wrong, but they're only here to try and make up for that. They want peace just as much as you two do.”

“And what do they benefit from surrendering?” Moon asked, bluntly.

Marco thought, before answering, “The hope that someday they can be treated like equals.”

Moon tried to hide her shock at the boy's words. That sounded rather familiar, her head suddenly swimming with old memories she believed she had long since forgotten. She recalled a young couple who had often pleaded with her in the past about monster equality, though at the time she had been unshaken by their words, simply dismissing it as nonsense. Though they had been quite persistent still, never simply taking no for an answer...

Moon tried to push the thought aside, not sure what had brought the memory on in the first place, the young boy in front of her just strongly reminding her of them. “Can you give us a moment?” she requested. “We'd like to discuss some things before we give you an answer.”

“Of course, Queen Moon,” Buff Frog said bowing. “Come Marco.” Marco obeyed his father, the two exiting the room together. Marco whispered over his shoulder to his dad as they did, “Do you think it worked?”

“I not sure, yet,” Buff Frog asked, in melancholy.

Star started to follow after them, until she heard her mother call her name. “Star.” The girl turned back in surprise. “We would like you to stay here as well,” Moon said.

Star was taken aback that her mother would ask for her opinion, but she quickly recovered, nodding her head, before straightening her posture as much as she could. “Of course,” she responded as regally as she could.

Moon waited until the doors closed shut, with a resounding rumble, before asking “Star, do you really trust this monster?”

“Yes, I do. With my life,” she answered immediately. “He helped me when he didn't have to. And I never would have gotten Marco back or stopped Toffee without him. He's more than earned my trust.”

“And what about this boy?” River continued. “It doesn't upset you that he lied to you about being raised by monsters? Surely he can't be trusted.”

“Marco did nothing wrong,” Star replied firmly, feeling a need to defend her Marco. “It's not like he tried to manipulate me or anything. He just needed a safe place to hide from Toffee so that he wouldn't hurt him again. And yes maybe he didn't tell me about the whole being raised by monsters thing, but the only reason he did that was because he was afraid of what would happen if he did.”

King River and Queen Moon shared a look as Star continued to ramble on about the boy she so obviously cared about, pacing back and forth in front of them. “And who can blame him. We treat the monsters awfully, it's the only reason they lashed out in the first place. He was terrified that I would treat him differently because of who raised him, when really nothing could ever change the way I feel. Marco's the nicest boy I have ever known. He's good and sweet and kind. He would never hurt anyone.”

“Star,” Moon called, halting the girl in her steps. She turned to them with a dazed and embarrassed look, clearly having forgotten where she was at. “We believe you,” Moon finished, giving her a knowing look.

Star nervously cleared her throat, standing at attention once again. “Yes well, anyways,” she said awkwardly, before regaining her princess composure once again. “The point is, Marco isn't a bad person and neither is Buff Frog or most of the monsters for that matter. It's Toffee who is to blame for all this, not the rest of the monsters.”

“So then the real question remains,” Moon said, thoughtfully, looking between her family. “Do you think we should accept their proposal?”

“Yes, I do,” Star said, nodding. “Making peace does seem like the better option than fighting a losing battle, doesn't it?”

Moon wasn't surprised, by her daughter’s answer, but now came the real challenge. She looked to her husband. “What do you think, River? Do you still think we should 'annihilate' them all?”

River looked down at his daughter, who was giving him a pleading look, while also holding in her breath. “No, my dear. I think it's time we put an end to this senseless violence,” the king stated, throwing both royal women for a shock. “Star makes a good point. And if she thinks this is for the best, then I think we should trust her judgment. After all, she's grown into quite the capable ruler... just like her mother.”

Star felt her cheeks grow hot at the unexpected compliment, not realizing her father thought so highly of her. After a moment, Moon gave a curt nod, saying, “Agreed.” She rose from her throne and River doing the same, Star sucking in a breath, as she followed after her parents.

Marco and Buff Frog both jumped as the doors to the throne room swung open, trying to bury the nervous frowns they had had on not a moment ago, as Buff Frog dropped down onto one knee, lowering his head submissively, and Marco quickly mimicked his father's movements.

Moon and River stopped before the two, for a moment just towering over their forms. Until finally, Queen Moon said in a diplomatic tone, “Buff Frog, on behalf of the Kingdom of Mewni we would like to accept your offer of peace and put an end to this war once and for all.”

Marco smiled widely at that and Buff Frog immediately stood, shaking Moon's hand graciously. “Thank you so much for opportunity, Your Highness,” the frog praised, before leaning in to kiss her hand, which she immediately pulled away before he could.

“Yes well, I still don't exactly trust you, but my daughter said some very compelling things in your defense, so I am willing to give this a chance,” Moon said, honestly. “Please do not betray my kindness,” she added, sharply.

“Never, Your Highness,” Buff Frog said, bowing.

“And as for you,” Moon said, turning to Marco with a serious expression, which made Marco instantly uncomfortable.

“Y-Yes,” Marco said, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice.

But Moon's harsh look switched to a smile, as she said softly, “ I want to thank you, Marco, for bringing joy back into my daughter's life. It is so nice to see her smile again. I owe you a great debt. You are more than welcome to remain here for as long as you would like.”

“W-Wow,” Marco muttered in disbelief. “Thank you so much, ma'am- I-I mean, Queen Moon!” He dropped into an embarrassed bow.

“Come here, you!” But he was quickly swept up by King River, as he squeezed him in a bear-like hug, Marco feeling like all his bones were breaking as he did. “Good show, my lad. So nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Marco coughed out in a strained tone, still feeling like he was being crushed.

“Even if Star did try to keep you a secret from us,” Moon added, before shooting her daughter a look, causing Star to laugh nervously.

“Uh, ha ha,” the blond chuckled, sheepishly, hands behind her back. “So you knew about that, then?”

“Oh yes, for quite some time now,” River answered, finally setting the boy back down on his feet again, leaving the boy struggling to regain his breath, Buff Frog checking on his son to make sure he was alright.

“How'd you find out?” Star asked, pretty sure she knew the answer.

“General Skullnick informed us you had let a new orphan into the palace,” Moon explained.

“And that you and he seemed quite attached to each other, am I right my lad?” River bellowed, playfully slamming a hand into Marco's back, which nearly knocked the boy over.

“Oh,” was all Star said looking away, not sure what else to say to that. It came as quite a shock to her that the general had noticed  normally iron-blooded troll's softer side.

“She suggested we shouldn't push you on the matter and give you some time to tell us about him on your own and we agreed. We figured you would tell us when you were ready.”

Star thought about that for a second. It came as quite a shock to hear that the general had noticed Star's need for space, still thrown off by the normally iron-blooded troll's softer side. “Soooo, are you guys mad?” Star risked.

“Well we still aren't happy about it?” Queen Moon admitted, giving her daughter a chiding glare. She sighed, before adding much gentler, “But we do understand why you did it. We put a lot on you and I know it couldn't have been easy for you. So if having this boy around made you happy, even if it was in secret, then I'm willing to look past it.”

Star nodded, giving her mom a smile. “Thanks mom,” she said, pulling her into a quick hug.  

“You're welcome, sweetie,” she said, giving her a gentle squeeze back. Once the two separated, Moon gave her a push toward Marco and Star instantly responded, closing the distance as she threw her arms around him in joy. “We did it, Marco. We did it!” She somehow lifted him off the ground, spinning him in a quick circle. “We brought peace to the monsters and the rest of Mewni! Together!”

Marco was laughing, holding tightly onto her, as she brought him back down to the ground.  “Yeah we did, didn't we?” he whispered in awe.

“Your parents would be so proud,” she said, finally letting go of him and moving to his side. Marco teared up, giving her a soft smile.

“Yeah I guess they would,” Marco said, his voice cracking.

“So then Star,” Moon said, teasingly, drawing the two's attention back to her and off of each other, both her and her husband giving their daughter sly looks. “Am I to assume this boy is more than just your mere companion.”

Star was about to respond, but Marco beat her to it, raising a finger in the air to draw their attention. “Umm, yes, I'm also her smooch buddy,” Marco said hesitantly, before turning to Star for conformation he had said it right.

Star just smiled, taking his hand in hers. “Close enough,” she said, before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, watching as his face turned the cutest shade of red, not caring who was watching. 

Okay so next up we move on to season 2! I’ll continue to try and post daily until I’m caught up with my present story. Thanks for reading everyone!

[brushstrokesapocalyptic]

The Legend of Asriel PART 4 | HYRULE CASTLE

now home, chara finds what they weren’t looking for.

Frisk cheerfully waves goodbye to Maddie, who refuses to be charmed by this brat and just tells them she won’t be sticking around to lug them anywhere else. Frisk considers this reasonable, and turns to Chara to ask for further directions to where they’re going. Chara points at the castle in the distance.

“Question,“ Frisk signs. “Why do you expect to find this person in Hyrule Castle?“

“Because he lives there,“ Chara replies, as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Who is he, anyway?“

Chara takes some time to respond, continuing to lead Frisk through the streets with ease. “He’s the prince,” they finally sign. “As the Hero, I was raised for the purpose of fighting alongside him to defeat the evil destined to threaten Hyrule. We’re practically siblings.”

Frisk squints. “I’ve been wondering about that. What makes you the hero and not some other person?”

Chara wordlessly tugs one of their leather gauntlets off and shows Frisk the back of their hand, where a faint birthmark in the shape of three triangles sits. “This marks me as part of this whole cycle of evil. Asriel has one too, and the other is supposedly on the sealed evil, which only leaves me. The Hero.”

Frisk rubs a little at the back of their own hand as Chara tugs the gauntlet back on. “That seems dumb and arbitrary,” they say. “Who is this evil anyway?”

Chara shrugs. “The story doesn’t say,” they reply. “All we know is that a hundred years ago, the Prince and the Hero raised alongside him fought back a terrible evil and sealed it away for a hundred years, and now the time is up.” They pause. “Well, I hope it’s still only been a hundred years. Again, I don’t know how long I’ve been gone.”

Frisk nods, and the conversation drops. Chara leads them to the castle gates and they try to gain access, but the guards inform them that no one is permitted into the castle to see the prince so “Scram, kid.”

Chara informs them that it’s fine, they really didn’t expect it to work anyway. The bit about no one being allowed is curious, but they don’t know what to make of it yet so, “Here, follow, me I know the best way to sneak in and out of this place.”

What follows is a stealth segment. Frisk gets in through a secret passage and has to sneak through the halls, dodging patrolling guards and servants and whatnot. Chara recognizes some of them, confirming to them that they haven’t been gone that long. They also capture some snippets of passing conversations, maids complaining to each other about how strict “that dodgy scientist” is being and other foreshadowing of that ilk.

The first place Chara leads Frisk is to the garden. Asriel always liked to hang out with them there! But they search high and low between the tall hedges and find no prince. So they head for his quarters, which look far more tidy than Chara has ever seen him— it’s like he hasn’t even touched them for months. On a whim, they poke their head into their own quarters just across the hall, and see them in much the same state. They try and fail to rearrange their pillows into something less eerily neat.

Another conversation passes, and this one really grabs their attention because there’s their Dad— King— Asgore, walking with some masked guy they’ve never seen before. Frisk follows, still in Stealth Mode, and they go down into the dungeons to find a sorta... laboratory... workshop-y.... room. Which Chara is quite sure wasn’t always there, this room used to contain like, training dummies and stuff. Now there’s all these tables and equipment and stuff, and a weird bundle on top of a crate which Chara keeps finding their eyes drifting towards as they follow Asgore into the room. Frisk hides behind some kinda furniture or in a convenient air vent or something, idk, and the two of them listen in.

Asgore and The Dude have a heated discussion of some sort. The dude has Plans and Asgore is a reluctant coward as usual. Several nuggets of information are dropped: First of all, it’s been six months since Chara died. Second, the Queen is missing, having been the one to deliver this news and also Chara’s body to the castle before disappearing off the face of the planet (also with Chara’s body). Third, Asriel is missing, and as much as Chara is upset to hear about that they realize they really should’ve seen that coming seeing as they already checked the two places Asriel hangs out in when Chara isn’t around. Oh, also the dude’s name is Dr. Gaster. Does this qualify as a twist? I don’t think it does.

I would also like to note that Deltarune has very little bearing on Gaster’s role in the story, as we currently have next to no concrete information on how he plays into it. Some minor details are influenced, of course, but just in case anyone decides to come charging in telling me about how wrong I am. I don’t care. This is my au. I can do what I want.

Conversation continues. Whatever Gaster’s plans are, they apparently involve that bundle Chara keeps finding themself staring at. It is an Important Bundle. Gaster picks it up and starts unwrapping it, expressing how Important it is. Asgore agrees that it is Important and that is why he is against it being used for anything because the hero is dead who else could possibly use it, much less in this state.

I then proceed to hold you the reader in suspense for the duration for at least another sentence.

Gaster dumps the contents of the bundle on a bare table and Chara suppresses a shriek at the sight of a million shards of silver metal all clattering together and topped by a blue hilt, carved in the shape of two stylized bird wings.

“When the FUCK did that happen,“ they ask, very loudly and unheard by literally anyone but themself. Gaster and Asgore go on talking, but Chara is too busy forgetting to continue interpreting for Frisk as they leap across the room to look more closely. They have to confirm. This can’t be the Master Sword, right? The legendary sword of evil’s bane? It can’t just explode into a million pieces, right? What kind of a legendary piece of shit does that? It can’t be real.

But the closer they look at it, the more certain they get— it’s very real. The hairs on the back of their neck stand up a little as they reach to touch the hilt, though they’re sure they’ll just pass through like always, but they’re cut off by Asgore slamming his fist on the table. The conversation was still going, after all, and something Gaster had to say made the king mad.

“I will not have you insinuate such things about Chara,“ Asgore says. “They were as a much my child as Asriel. You cannot possibly say they were any type of villain!“

Gaster dips his head. “Be that as it may. The fact that the sword was rendered in this state. After their failed attempt to retrieve it. Indicates they were not the hero. With only one other option available...”

Asgore snorts, cloak billowing right through Chara’s body as he turns to leave. “Absolutely not,” he says. “Come speak to me when you can speak of actually sensible topics.”

“...Very well,“ Gaster says, and Asgore vanishes out the door. Somehow, he manages to look baleful even through the odd cracked mask he’s been wearing this whole time.

He remains for a few minutes longer, carefully re-wrapping the pieces of the Master Sword and setting them aside once more. He examines some of the machinery, prods a few things, then leaves as well.

Frisk pokes their head out from their hiding place to give Chara a dry stare. “Mind filling me in?” they ask, getting to their feet. “You only translated the first half of that conversation, I had to guess at what they were talking about after that.”

“My apologies,“ Chara says, perching on the edge of a table with a casual smile. “I had deemed the rest of what they had to say so utterly banal, I was sure you’d be just as bored as I was.“

“Bullcrap,“ Frisk says, leaning around them to look at the bundle. “You’re way more awesome at interpreting than that, something got your attention. What was that, a pile of daggers?“

“A broken sword, actually,“ Chara replies, smile growing strained. “The sword I was meant to acquire, actually. You may recall I mentioned it?“

“Vaguely,“ Frisk says. “Anyway, conversation?“

Chara shrugs helplessly. “I was sorta distracted, sorry,“ they reply. “I think that Gaster guy insinuated I’m not the Hero and Dad got mad, which he should because obviously I’m the Hero. I’ve been the Hero all my life.“

Frisk remains skeptical.

“Anyway we definitely shouldn’t stick around, that guy could come back at any minute,“ Chara says, hopping to their feet and trying to look like they’re not on the verge of a panic attack. “Grab the bundle and let’s go.“

“Wait, why do we need the bundle?“ Frisk asks, picking it up. “It’s just a bunch of hunks of metal now, right?“

“I dunno but it’s definitely important,“ Chara says, bustling them out of the door. “Now come on, nearest escape route’s that way.“

More stealth, but this one ends in Frisk getting spotted by a guard. They attempt to flee, but luck is not on their side as they get surrounded. Gaster shows up, being basically in charge of everything right now and naturally curious about the sudden cries about an intruder. The guards part all dramatic-like to let him through and he peers at Frisk, musing about what a child from the desert is doing all the way up here.

Then he notices the bundle tucked under their arm. They attempt to turn their body to hide it, but Gaster has already seen it. “Would you care to hand that over?” he asks, holding out a hand. “It’s quite important. Not the sort of. Thing. Petty thieves have any use for.”

Frisk narrows their eyes, taking a small step back, and Gaster tuts. “I had hoped. You would listen,” he says. He jerks his head at one of the guards. “You. Retrieve that package. Mind their blade. Whether they know how to use it. I imagine it would sting.”

The indicated guard steps forward, reaching for the bundle, and Frisk draws back again, indeed going for their sword. There’s not very far they can go, though, and no way they could win this fight, so they prepare to give up the bundle.

Chara has other ideas, though, and as the guard touches the bundle they lunge, hands passing through the fabric and wrapping around the broken hilt— wrapping around it, they realize, not merely pretending but actually touching it— and something surges through them. And then a fraction of a second, it surges out of them in the form of a blinding flash of golden light that sends all the guards reeling, eyes burnt as they grope around wildly and raise their voices in an attempt to figure out what just happened.

When the spots clear from their vision, they find the weird child is gone, and the Royal Scientist merely staring at the spot they just vacated with his mask as unreadable as always. And a short distance from the palace (but growing further with every moment) Frisk runs full-tilt away from the window they just scrambled out of, bundle clutched tight to their chest and ghost drifting along after them.

“I told you it’d be important!“

[Next Part] [Index]

[loniface]

1. What would you consider your favorite holiday? Why is this? I prefer the day after Valentine’s Day because of all that discount candy, but if ya’ll wanna see me get all mushy-gushy, Valentine’s Day is also mine and the dude’s anniversary of being a couple, so I’m biased.

2. When did you last fight with your significant other? We’ve yet to have a fight.

3. Do you do any special workouts to stay in shape? I currently don’t do a damn thing and I hate my body for it.  But, when I am getting into shape, it’s mostly crunches and walking.

4. If you’re a girl, do you have big hips? Too big? I got my grandma’s wide-ass hips and a flat butt.

5. Do people tend to call you by any certain nicknames? Only special people--and they know who they are--can call me Lonz.

6. When was the last time you had alcohol? What kind? It’s been so long, I can’t remember.  I take too many meds to take a chance on alcohol.

7. When was the last time you talked to your father? Like a few minutes ago.

8. What are the last four numbers of your phone number? 2013.

9. Is there anything / one you’re losing faith in right now? I’d say ‘humanity’ but there are still good people out there.

10. When is the next time you’ll eat chocolate candy? I just had an ice cream cone and I got like three cookies left in the pack.

11. Is there a day you’d just like to forget? Which one? Can I blot out my entire 20′s?

12. Are you someone who takes too many surveys? Probably, but I like answering questions.  I found this one ironically.

13. Girls, do you think you look good in dresses or not? I don’t do dresses/skirts/shorts.  I do not like my thighs touching.

14. Do you have a whiteboard in your room to remind you of things? Nope, but all my sketchpads are filled with random notes.

15. When was the last time you used a Kleenex? Why? I have no idea.  I tend to not get sick.

16. Do you prefer surveys with long or short questions? I like those that I can answer more than a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to.

17. Have you ever taken a pottery class before? No, but I’m not against trying.

18. Do your parents treat you like you’re still a child? My parents tend to act like I’m fragile thanks to my mental illness, but really, they just leave me to my devices for the most part.

19.Who is your significant other and how did you meet? I’m not ashamed that I had to use a dating service to meet my dude.  He had been living in the city close to me at the time, but he wound up moving back to his hometown after we met in-person and we kept in-touch and became a couple after the fact.

20. Do you talk to people out of the blue? @cloudsfall gets random texts out of me but that’s because I love her and miss her.

21. What was the last nightmare you had about? Anything odd? My nightmares are usually a variation of actual past traumas but I’ve thankfully only had the usual zombie nightmare as of late.

22. Is your life basically based on deja vu? Or, not so much? My life is kinda same ol’, but not that monotonous.

23. When was the last time someone dumped you? Probably 2011 or 2012.

24. Can you recall your eighth birthday? What was the cake? Nope, can’t remember the birthday but there’s always been cake involved.  I know that much.  My mom always baked whatever flavor I wanted and it was usually vanilla/chocolate with cream cheese icing.

25. Do you feel like you’re losing someone close right now? I feel I’m drifting from a lot of people because of different interests.  Perhaps it’s because I have too casual a relationship with everyone that I feel I don’t have to talk often to anyone until I realize how much time has passed since I did talk to them.  Does that make sense?

26. What color are the buttons on your remote? I’m too lazy to even look for it but it’s probably black, white, and grey.

27. What is the one stereotype people label you as most? The Artist.

28. Can you count how many lovers you’ve had on one hand? Yes, and you can even cut off a few fingers and get the same effect.

29. Do you like dark chocolate or white more? What about milk chocolate? I don’t like dark chocolate at all, but give me all the rest, especially with a raspberry filling, yum.

30. Who makes you the most angry in your life right now? My neighbor’s little yappy dog who barks 24/7.

31. How many times have you seen Star Wars? Be honest. I’ve seen every movie except The Last Jedi at least once.

32. Can people normally tell your mood, by your facial expression? I have a pretty good poker face, but my eyebrows give me away.

33. What was the last number you pushed on your phone? Hell if I know, I keep my phone’s history pretty clean.

34. Do you like flowers? What’s your favorite kind? I like flowers, but I don’t like their short lifespans.  Don’t really have a favorite, but if it’s purple, it’s awwwright in my book.

35. How many grades have you failed in your life? Never failed a class despite my absolute dumbassery in all things Math.

36. Do you own a car? What car is it? Yes, a 2002 Ford Escape named General Thibodaux II.

37. What is your favorite show to watch on television? I don’t watch television?  I’m so far behind on everything anyway.

38. What are the initials of your last ex? CR, I think.

39. Are you someone who can easily keep a secret? Yeah.

40. Do you understand algebra, or have you ever? I was home-schooled in the eighth grade, and my teacher wasn’t very sympathetic to the fact I Did Not Understand Pre-Algebra and it just snowballed from there.  I had to take remedial courses in college and still don’t know why there’s an alphabet in my math.

41. Do you or have you ever had a problem with going barefoot? I hate wearing shoes but I had reconstructive surgery (hence being home-schooled) and my feet are super-sensitive to this day, so I tend to keep shoes on until I’ve had my nightly shower for their own protection.

42. What is one thing that tends to freak you out? Extreme close-ups of eyeballs.

43. Have you been swimming so far this year? How much? Nope, weather doesn’t permit it yet.

44. Do you ever think you’re being cheated on? I have been.  Spoiler alert: it’s not That Great.

45. When was the last time you painted something? A few months ago, I painted a 3D Bulbasaur planter that I gave @luxwing for their birthday.