#don’t worry for once i’m not overthinkin

[leadendeath]

new tone indicators which i need to become as popular as the others

brother /gn (gender neutral, and only using this if u know the other person is ok with it)

comrade /np (non-political)

thank god /nr (non-religious)

[logansbaby]

FIX YOU - LOGAN HOWLETT

❥ summary: Logan Howlett is dying. You both know it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

word count: 1.7k

pairings: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ NSFW, MDNI, angst!!!! so much angst, mentions of death, foreshadowing the events of ‘Logan’, smut, piv (unprotected— be smart irl), feelings, sadness

❥ a/n: guys!!!!!! i was listening to fix you by coldplay (highly recommend whilst reading) and it screams oldman logan and pain! this is literally just angst and smut but i hope you enjoy anyway <3

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

MAROON blood tinged the white dress shirt Logan wore, groans of agony falling from his frown as he stumbled into the makeshift house.

The sound of heavy steps startled you from your position on the couch, and despite your drowsy state, you tossed the unread book and dashed to see him. Anxiety tingled your fingertips, anguish swirling within your belly at what you might find.

You were right to feel anxious, because the sight of Logan caused your breath to hitch, chest to heave, and your lashes to glisten.

“Oh, Logan.�� It was merely a whisper, yet he’d heard it all the same. It was an ironic joke that his healing was almost gone, but his hearing was as good as it had been years prior. “Logan.”

It seemed his name was all you could manage, your throat choked up in feelings you desperately tried to push down, along with the pesky, salty tears.

The once crisp, white shirt was soaked with blood, bullet holes littering from his chest to his navel. The crimson liquid had dried long ago but you knew he ached. You could see it in the way his clenched fingers shook, in the way exhaustion draped over his features. The man before you was a ghost of the man you’d met so long ago and the realization had unwanted emotions clawing at your throat, begging to be let out.

Before he could open his mouth, you ran into him and wrapped yourself around his middle tight, your grip not unlike that of a koala on a branch.

Logan hissed, new painful sensations blossoming where you gripped him, but he ignored it in favor of returning the embrace. One arm came around the curve of your waist as the other held the back of your head gently, like you were made of glass.

Maybe you were.

“It’s okay, baby.” He whispered, lips pressed against your forehead. “I’m okay. I’ll heal.”

It wasn’t, he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t— something you both knew.

You’d never tell him this, but each time he left, fear gripped you tightly. Before any of this, you knew he’d always return home to you, alive and completely unscathed. But times had changed, and for the worse, it seemed. You noticed before he did, that his healing had begun to slow down, and it scared you horribly.

He’d refuse to talk about what it meant, instead choosing to ignore reality in true Logan fashion, but you knew. You both knew that he was on borrowed time, and you knew one of these days his regeneration would dry up and he wouldn’t get back up.

One day, you’d have to walk the earth without the love of your life by your side and the very thought made you fucking ill, threatened to bring you to your knees and release the trapped agony.

Your heart picked up, beating vigorously against your ribcage, causing Logan’s bruised mouth to frown. He pulled back, hands moving to cradle your face as he looked into unfocused, hazy eyes.

“Hey— can hear you overthinkin’, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m here, I’m here.” He muttered, the gruffness of his voice leading you back to the present. “There she is.”

“It’s not, you’re hurt. You’re bleeding and I— what even happened?” With your brows furrowed, questions spilled from your bitten lips without thought. “And don’t lie to me.”

He sighed.

“Just had a run in with some bad guys, that’s it.”

“Logan—“

“Should see the other guys, baby.” He joked, the need to ease the tension bubbling in the air was overwhelming. He was desperate to lessen the worry blanketing your face. He hated that you rarely smiled anymore.

When you let out a wet laugh, he knew he’d succeeded, despite the unshed sadness dusting your eyes.

For a moment, you just stared at him, eyes wide as they traced every inch of his face, as if to savor Logan’s face to memory. Then, you leant up and pressed sweet, soft kisses wherever you could reach— his neck, chest, chin, and bottom lip.

Even after all the years you’d been together, butterflies danced around wildly in his stomach at your touch.

“C’mere.” He was already trailing beside you because the taut grip you had on his hand refused to leave him behind. “Let me clean you up.”

And despite the throbbing of his bones, he followed you, because of course he did. If he hadn’t had you, he would’ve been two whisky bottles in by now, and the blood would’ve stayed crusted on his skin as he fell asleep. You never let him spiral, though, and you refused to have him do so now. He’d never said thank you for that, but he hoped you felt it in his kiss, in the way he held you.

Logan was pushed onto the couch then, his thoughts melting away as your hands gently pressed him until his body folded on the cushion. You disappeared for a moment, before returning with the necessary products to clean his wounds.

Instead of sitting beside him, which would’ve been more practical, you plopped yourself onto his lap. When he groaned at the sudden weight, you smiled sheepishly through hooded eyes.

“Sorry, just want to be close to you.” It was mumbled, just loud enough to be heard and you knew it was understood when a tiny smirk graced Logan’s lips.

“Don’t mind, princess.” His amusement grew and spread into a full-on smile at the way your face grew rosy. He always did like riling you up, no matter the situation.

Wordlessly, you got to work; unbuttoning his ruined shirt and tossing the bloodied fabric to the floor mindlessly. With a warm rag, you began wiping away the reminders of a fight. Logan let out a couple groans as your fingers prodded at some deeper wounds, urging out the bullet casings until they plopped on the sofa. His body had stopped any massive injuries from forming, but he still wore the aftermath of his attackers.

Logan lost track of time as he opted to stare at you; he’d rather not think about how his body continued to fail him anymore.

From the strands of your hair framing your flushed face, to the plushness of your lips, of which were taken hostage between your teeth in concentration, he admired you. You were so, so beautiful, so angelic, that it shook him, even after all this time.

He hoped that when his body failed him for the last time, when he sucked in his last breath of oxygen, you were the last thing he saw.

“Done! Good as new.” Though your words were teasing, your tone was anything but. Your eyes were somber, filled with so much emotion it devastated you. The reflection of his own powerful feelings mirroring yours comforted you.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, handsome.”

For a while, the both of you stared at each other in a heavy silence. Both sets of eyes were tracing every detail before them, to ensure nothing was missed when he was finally gone, but none of you were brave enough to say so. The unspoken heaviness threatened to crush you both with the weight of it all.

And then— you’re unsure how it happened, who leant in first. All you knew is that the overwhelming, crushing need to be as close as possible to one another, in every way possible, suddenly became the most important thing in the world.

The minute your lips met, everything else faded to static. It was slow at first, gentle as you both savored the feel, before it was an abrupt burst of passion.

Your hands wrapped around his neck tightly, fingers playing with the graying hairs at his neck, yanking when his tongue slipped past slick, swollen lips. Logan’s hands gripped your hips possessively, and as your tongues danced together in a familiar rhythm, he began to drag you up and down across his lap.

It was dirty— the messy drag of lips, the spit connecting as you broke apart to gather oxygen into your lungs, the grinding of your clothed, sobbing cunt across his throbbing cock. It was so dirty yet filled with so much emotion, so much adoration and love.

It wasn’t long before he had you filled to the brim, full of him. Once you’d started bouncing up and down on him, drunk on how fucking good he felt, the tears spilled over the apples of your cheeks.

Maybe it was the sheer pleasure zipping through you, the lick of heat teasing your lower belly. Or perhaps it was the fact that you were reminded that everything with Logan was fleeting. The reason didn’t matter, not when you slumped against his chest and sobbed his name desperately, hips now moving in a slow grind across his lap.

“Logan— love you so, so much,” you cried out, the words mumbled against his sweaty chest.

“My pretty girl,” Logan spoke knowingly, hands going to the supple thighs and fucking you up and down on his cock once more. “I got you, I always have you.”

The mixture of euphoria with his words, a double meaning laced between them, had a loud moan tumbling from your mouth, hips jerking at the feel of your puffy clit bumping the hair smattered at the base of him. Every sensation flowing through you was heightened and when Logan thrusted up into your weepy pussy, you clenched around him so tight, he growled. The movement sent you both reeling, orgasms crowding your senses with the intensity of it all.

Logan kissed you then, thrusting his come into you as deep as he could. Your whine was swallowed by his mouth, so full of him in a way that made your heart swell, chest tingle bittersweet. Whispers of ‘I love you’ melted into the embrace of your lips, and all the pressing emotions and fears came hurtling back down full force.

Neither of you moved, content to stay connected, even as his cock softened inside you, as the mixture of your releases pooled on sticky, sweat-slicked skin. Your body wrapped around his, hands tickling the scarred skin of his back as his lips peppered wet kisses across the expanse of your neck.

It hit you once more that Logan was your everything and you wanted to cry.

So, you did. Water spilled down your face and onto his chest as you cried. Logan spoke mantras of ‘Shh, it’s okay’ and ‘I’m here, I love you’ as you let your tears go, even as his own eyes were wet with sorrow.

You both knew it was anything but okay. It was only a matter of time.

[carrdfan]

Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

summary : Eddie grows worried due to your absence and is soon convinced by Venom to go out and check on you. Yet when he finds you and countless others bruised and hurt, there's only one suspect; and Eddie suddenly has an urge to end them.

main tags : imagine , comfort , female reader

warnings : blood mention

Eddie walked around the messy living room as the kitchen clock ticked by each passing second. Every minute that passed, he grew more and more worried about your well-being. You were only heading to the pharmacy, so why had you been gone for so long?

"Eddie." Venom suddenly called, interrupting the silence. "We should check on her."

Part of Eddie immediately agreed and wanted to leave right away, yet another part of him said that it was just his paranoia causing him to stress this much.

"I'm probably just overthinkin'," He told Venom as he continued to wander around the living room, starting to pop his knuckles as some sort of relief. "She can definitely handle herself anyways-"

"No.. I sense something unsettling from afar, she's in danger Eddie." Eddie wanted to tell Venom that he was just getting paranoid too, but from the tone of voice, he was calling it.

Eddie really didn't want to acknowledge the possibility of you being hurt, and dare God bring up the idea of death occurring to you. "Fine! Fine, let's go," Eddie said as he quickly grabbed his keys before heading out the door. He hoped both him and Venom was just exaggerating in the end.

He ran out of the apartment and into the car. The drive to the pharmacy wasn’t too far, yet within a few minutes, Eddie could sense something wasn't right either. The smell of smoke slowly filled the air, causing Eddie to panic. "Shit!" He quickly said under his breath.

Eddie soon drove up to see police cars and fire trucks circled around a part of the street. They were destroyed, buildings damaged and on fire; one being the pharmacy you ran to. Eddie felt a pit in his stomach at the sight of the event while he quickly parked and got out of the car. He greatly stressed over his biggest priority: you.

Eddie tried to take a closer look, but was stopped by officers who refused access towards everyone. There was a moment of him and the officer going back and forth as Eddie hardly kept a hold of himself, fortunately, there was a cry in the distance to distract him. "Hey!" Both turned to see you afar and slowly walking towards them. Once you caught up to both men, you quickly told the officer that Eddie was here for you before pulling Eddie aside to catch him up on what went down.

You both stood on the sidewalk as there was a moment of silence. Just being by each other was enough to calm both of you down, because while Eddie was calming himself from fear, you were still processing some bits of what just went down. You tried to say something to break the silence, but Eddie carefully placed his hands on your face. While his intention was to get a closer look to what happened to you, but he also managed to help you catch a few more breathers and collect more of yourself. 

Once he finally got a look up close though, he was hugely pissed. You were covered in small scars along with a few bandages wrapped around your arms and legs. You seemed to have taken a bit of the hit but luckily didn't get the worse of it compared to the few other victims Eddie saw. "Oh my God, Y/n. What- what happened?"

You tried to recall everything that went down even though it was a lot to take. "So.. Uh, someone decided to go rapid and attack the street," you turned around to point out the order of the events, "Some pieces from buildings were thrown and one of them almost flew on top of the pharmacy. Some believe it was some kind of explosion that cause it, while others think it was something else."

You continued to explain the rest of your story and even some of the other victims, how some witnessed pieces almost be thrown directly at them, while others had the unfortunate sight of seeing bodies be split in half or have their heads crushed in. But it was clear no one was able to get a sight of the one behind this, those who did must have been the ones killed. Eddie felt a lot of emotions come over him but the two who majorly left was anger and guilt.

Anger from the fact someone dared to cause havoc in the town. Someone dared to put your life in extreme danger. While you managed to play it off, the fact someone went far enough to cause you to have blood running down your face enraged him.

Yet he felt guilty, guilty that the harm to came your way was his fault. He should've been there for you when times called, yet he wasn't. And that's what weighed him down.

Eddie soon took a grip to both of your arms, "Y/n. Are you sure no one knows who’s behind this. No one got even a glimpse?" It was a rare sight to see Eddie so visually frustrated so you were caught by surprise. But there was no need for you to answer as Eddie took it back shortly, the pieces were already clicking together for him by the passing second. The choices already dialed down to one person, and that person made Eddie furious.

It’s uncommon for them to make a move just to retreat; they didn’t just attacked the street on pure decision. They might have known you were making an errand and proceeded to attack on that info.

This whole incident could’ve been nothing more but a major way to fuck with Eddie. And fueled him with enough rage to punch a hole in the wall, only to hold himself back was you as he wanted to show some decency.

Trying his best to keep his anger in, he let go of his grip on you and took a moment. "..Come on. Let's get you home first. I have something to handle myself and I’d prefer you be home while I’m gone." Fully agreeing, you inform the authorities of your sudden leave before you and Eddie got in his car and drove home.

In the small ride back, you couldn’t help but notice the irritation Eddie was keeping a hold of. His grip seemed a bit too tight on the steering wheel, and his breathing seem a bit too unkept. But you didn’t push yourself to ask him anything about it. 

Once you both made it home, you walked into the apartment before turning back and looking at Eddie. “Are you sure you wanna leave after what happened? It may not be safe for tonight.” Logically speaking, Eddie should be staying close with you as you would do with him if he was in your spot, but to see Eddie go run this errand made you question a few things.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile as he slowly walked up to you, "I’ll be fine, it’s better if I run and handle it now then wait till later." He soon gave you a small kiss on your forehead before stepping back and heading off, "I'll be back, and don’t leave the house for the rest of the night." Before you could respond and interrogate Eddie some more, he was already getting in the car and backing up. You decided to listen and head to your given room, yet wondering why Eddie sounded so confident in what he was doing. Maybe later on you can ask him about this incident again.

Either way, you cared for yourself and attend to your scars, time slowly went on and on until, ironically, you found yourself in Eddie’s spot for a moment or two. But with the affects of the attack, you couldn’t help but given into your sleepiness and decided dosed off to bed.

While you got some sleep, Eddie was out catching some Carnage to end this memorable night.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Hell’s Festival] 4★ Seras (Normal) Translation

第3話 秘めた悲しみ Chapter 3: Hidden Sadness

"We both watched the performance on stage weaved by puppets alike…”

CV: 小山 力也 (Koyama Rikiya)

*Yume100 Masterlist | Hell’s Festival Event Story *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Name will remain as my normal ( ラン ) *Thank you to Pimmy_yone for providing the moon route choices so that I could make his translation complete~ ♪(´▽｀)

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 Sun 1 / 2 / SS Moon 1 / 2 / SS

Stringed puppets dance upon the candle-lit stage…

It was about a boy who’d lost someone important to him.

Boy Doll: It doesn’t matter how important someone is; you’ll still end up losing them someday.

(It’s a sad story…)

Feeling a little of the boy’s helplessness from his words, I look to the side…

Seras: ……

(Seras…?)

The lonely look I spotted on him as he quietly observed the stage left a lingering twinge in my chest.

Seras: Hm? What’s wrong?

Noticing my gaze, he slightly tilts his head in my direction.

Ran: Oh, it’s nothing much… I just thought that it was a pretty sad story.

Seras: It is.

Seras: This is a Country which often deals with death, so there are many stories akin to this.

(Right, this place’s…)

Necropolia was said to be the place where victims of a long-fought war of the past were mourned that eventually became a small Country.

Hearing his explanation, my gaze returned to the story unfolding on stage.

(Dealing with death…) (This puppet show might be someone else’s life experience once upon a time…)

Seras gently placed his large hand atop my head when I looked down at my faintly tightening chest.

Seras: But, stories like these aren’t just to invoke sadness.

Seras: It’s also intended to soothe the people’s sorrows by making it into a story, widely told to others.

Seras: That’s just how it is, so… don’t go makin’ that face, alright?

I could feel his concern as he slowly and gently stroked my hair. It made warmth bloom in my heart.

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━

❖ Choice MOON: Nod back (頷き返す)

(The weight on my chest feels much lighter now…)

I nodded back at him, and his smile finally reached his eyes.

Seras: Still… You’re a really nice girl.

❖ Choice SUN: Thank him (お礼を言う)

Ran: Thank you, Seras.

Seras: Not at all. It’s nothin’ to thank me for.

The puppet show continues, and an owl pays the sad little boy a visit.

The boy befriends the owl and his sorrow is gradually soothed away…

Finally, the story ends with him regaining his former smile, warm and happy.

(It’s a sad but wonderful story…)

I clapped along with him as the puppets on stage gave a cute parting bow.

Seras: What a well-made play.

Ran: It is. I’m glad he managed to regain his smile.

Seras: Yours too.

(Seras…)

Seeing his relaxed smile, the image of the dark look he had on his face earlier flashed through my mind…

❖ Choice MOON: Hesitate (聞くことをためらう)

(I want to know more, but it’s a little hard for me to ask him directly about it…)

I closed my mouth, swallowing the question that had been right on the tip of my tongue. Then, Seras tilted his head in my direction.

Seras: What? Were you just about to ask me somethin’?

Ran: …I’m sorry if this comes off as weird. I was just a little worried about the face you were making while watching the puppet show…

Seras: !

❖ Choice SUN: Ask him what’s wrong (どうしたのか聞く)

Ran: Um… Are you okay?

Seras: Huh? Me? Why do you ask?

Ran: You looked rather sad during the performance…

Seras: ……

Seras' eyes widened a fraction at my unexpected words.

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━

After a brief moment of hesitation, Seras tapped his cheek in thought, albeit slightly troubled.

Seras: Was I making a face like that…?

Ran: It might just be me, but…

Seras: …No, I’m sure it’s just you overthinkin’ things.

Seras: That won’t do. It looks like I’m losin’ my composure in front of you, Princessa.

The smile he pulled to dissuade me was betrayed by the way his brows drooped.

(Seras?)

He let out a small sigh that gently brushed at my fringe.

Seras: You’re really sharp.

Seras: Thanks to that, my poor attempt at hiding it was all for nought, for you have such beautiful and keen eyes…

Seras turned his gaze up towards the air, seemingly trying to rid himself of the slight hesitation he felt.

Seras: That puppet show just reminded me of the past…

I waited in silence as he prepared to spill his heart…

To be continued…

[maonuis]

[ENG TL] Oogami Koga - Idol Story 3

Proofreader: 310mc and Fiore

Original Writer: 木野誠太郎 (Kino Seitarou)

Season: Summer

Koga: (Hell yeah! I knew I’d get lucky if I went to the CD store after school… I finally got my hands on the new album ♪)

(Big shots from overseas only release albums once every ten years or so.)

(As a fan, nah, as a lover of rock music, I've been waiting for a new release for years!)

(Aaah, I’m gonna kiss this album! Thank you for letting me hear such awesome rock music!)

(Thanks for continuing to make music...♪)

Yuuta: Oh? Oogami-senpai, is that you? What a coincidence~

Koga: Awoogh?!

Yuuta: Whoa there. I’m not a ghost, so please don’t jump like you just saw one.

Koga: Tsk… It’s just Yuuta. You almost gave me a heart attack…

Don’t see the other one ‘round ya, did ya get into a fight or somethin’?

Yuuta: We don’t always get into arguments… We aren’t you.

Actually, didn’t I tell you about it? 2wink is a “two-in-one” unit, which means we split the work between us for everything, be it jobs or just our daily life.

Koga: Right, y’all doin’ that now.

Hinata’s been doing the sales promotions, project planning, and part time jobs… And while that’s happenin’, you get to play around and have fun with your hobbies, yeah?

You sure are cherished~ aint’cha, “Yuuta-kun”?

Yuuta: Uh, why did that sound a little passive-aggressive?

Koga: Ha. I wasn’t trynna be. You’re overthinkin’ it.

Besides, artists aren’t supposed to be involved in backstage work like that.

Ain’t being an idol about making a living thanks to the support of your fans and sponsors?

Which means that right now your hobbies are being cherished more than the job in front of you.

Yuuta: Hmm~ I think you’re right, but I didn’t expect to hear that from you.

I thought you’d tell me to quit fooling around and get back to work, you know?

Koga: Huh? Who do ya think I am? I’m the rock ‘n roller Oogami Koga.

Working to make my dreams and ambitions come true is one thing, but working for money alone ain’t my style.

Yuuta: Ooh, I get it… Yeah, you do look like you’d suck at part time jobs~♪

Well, from a social standpoint, people who work are held in higher regard, so it’s been weighing on my mind a bit.

But Aniki… Hinata-kun has been telling me that it’s okay to stay like this.

Koga: You don’t hafta worry. Rock’s about destroying common sense and order; that’s what makes ya look so damn cool ♪

The roaring music, the howling basses… It’s a cry of the soul that reverberates through the entire world...☆

That’s the very spirit of rock ♪

Yuuta: Erm, I’m not aiming to become a rock and roller, though...? I only ever plan to be an idol working with my twin brother.

...Truth is, I came to check the CD store as a way to pass time, ‘cause I’ve been trying to expand my music taste by checking out new genres.

Koga: Expand your music taste…?

Yuuta: Yup. Lately, people have been wanting to know my own opinion as an individual, rather than as both of us twins, and well...

That made me decide to learn more about what this world has to offer, sooo...

I’m hoping to use this as a reference for how to sell myself in the future as both an idol and 2wink’s hobbyist.

Koga: So basically, you came here to listen to the various songs in the sample corner[1]?

Yuuta: Well, yeah, something like that… ♪

I’m trying to save money as much as I can, that’s why. I didn’t feel like it’d be right of me to splurge on my interests, I guess? Especially since Aniki is out there taking part-time jobs.

Koga: Guess I got no choice, I’ll just have to lend ya the CDs I got back in my dorm room. You’ll just get bored of listenin’ to samples over and over, anyways.

And it ain’t gonna look good for you if you stick around the shop for too long, since you’re an idol and all.

You’re also part of the Light Music Club and the band circle we have at the dorms, so I think even if it’s just for general knowledge it won’t be bad to give it a chance.

Anyways, check this out. I bought a brand new baby today!

What’cha think? Ain’t this cover so cool it gives you chills?

Yuuta: No, no, you’re being too pushy. I haven’t even agreed to borrow your CDs…?

Koga: Huuuh? Ya tellin’ me you don’t wanna hear my recs~?

We’re pals from the same band, so we gotta share our taste in music, y’know?

C’mon, I’ll show ya the way to my room!

Yuuta: Uwaaah, what did I just get myself into...~? This is why all our newbies in the Light Music Club run away in fear, y’know~?

Koga: Shut yer trap. Shouldn’t you be happy that your senior is so kind?

The rock ‘n roll that I love so much might change along with the times, but its spirit is the one thing that remains untouched and crosses through generations.

If ya wanna know more about the world, you should stop being so picky with your tastes and give it a chance at least once. So take a moment to listen to the awesomest music that rocks my very soul...☆

[1] Music sample corners are a corner that can be found in some music stores in which you can hear previews of some albums using headphones. An image example: https://www.emuz.jp/imgs/music/photo1.jpg

[blitzturtles]

Title: Up Ahead

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Steel Ball Run

Pairing(s): GyJo

Summary: Exhaustion seeps into his bones and spreads across his limbs like a disease. He can feel it in the tips of his fingers and up along the muscles in his forearms, where they’ve gone weak despite his attempts to hold onto Slow Dancer. His eyelids are so heavy that trying to keep them open leaves him cross eyed until he finds himself nodding off again, and then he’s jostling awake for the umpteenth time, several yards behind Gyro, who doesn’t look like he’s faring much better. What with the way he’s slumping almost sideways on his own horse.

-

Exhaustion seeps into his bones and spreads across his limbs like a disease. He can feel it in the tips of his fingers and up along the muscles in his forearms, where they’ve gone weak despite his attempts to hold onto Slow Dancer. His eyelids are so heavy that trying to keep them open leaves him cross eyed until he finds himself nodding off again, and then he’s jostling awake for the umpteenth time, several yards behind Gyro, who doesn’t look like he’s faring much better. What with the way he’s slumping almost sideways on his own horse.

They’ve been at this for the better part of the day. Night is rapidly descending on them, and all they’ve found is the same goddamn thing: a whole lotta nothing. And a whole lotta nothing is all they're going to get for the rest of the night, because Johnny’s at his limit. Before he can say anything, Gyro’s talking. The words nearly go in one ear and out the other, but Johnny forces himself to pay attention.

“--spot up ahead. Should be actual beds, but it’ll be a little longer.”

Gyro’s slowed Valkyrie to match Slow Dancer’s pace, making it so the two can look at one another, rather than Johnny staring at Gyro’s backside. It’s not a bad view, but it’s the only one he’s had for the last hour. His eyes are burning something fierce, and Johnny’s already past the point of being irritable and gone straight for apathy. He’d be fine with keeling over right about now. It’s not like he hasn’t slept in worse conditions (he has to shove those thoughts to the side. He’s prone to spiraling down a road better left forgotten when he’s worn this thin.)

“You can go on ahead. I’m gonna set up camp here,” Johnny answers, accent thick and words slurred. A bed does sound nice, but he doesn’t have the energy. Can’t afford to waste anymore of it unfolding and putting his chair together when he could simply unfurl his bedroll and toss it haphazardly on the ground.

Gyro frowns at him. Sharp, green eyes rake over Johnny’s form. Evaluating. Johnny’s long gotten used to the way that Gyro analyzes him when he’s worried. Working limb by limb and system by system until he’s come to whatever conclusion and decided on how best to proceed. It’s part of his training, and Johnny’s grown to find it endearing. Most of the time.

Johnny’s exasperation only grows when Gyro makes up his mind with a shake of his head. “No, I think we both need a proper night, and we’re not getting it out here.”

Johnny wants to shake him. He’d grab onto Gyro’s collar and-- sigh in defeat, because he doesn’t actually have the physical strength to try to impress upon Gyro how impossible his plan is. Instead, Johnny brings Slow Dancer to a halt and surveys the area. Decides that the best course of action is to ignore Gyro entirely.

It’s not an ideal place to settle. Too open, leaving them exposed to an attack, but Johnny doesn’t think the landscape will improve much. There are miles ahead that look exactly the same with little in the way of foliage and only hard, compact dirt to look forward to.

“Johnny!” Gyro waves a hand in front of his face with a raised brow that makes Johnny aware of the fact that Gyro’s probably been trying to get his attention for several minutes now.

“What?” And maybe that edge of irritation isn’t completely gone. His tone is snappish. Meaner than he intends for it to be, but Gyro’s just not getting it.

“This isn’t a good place to stop. If we keep going for a bit longer, we’ll have some place nice. And safe.”

“Don’t care,” Johnny says, already reaching for his pack. He can set up a fire himself, before it gets too late and too cold. It sounds like tedious work with fingers that are already struggling with leather straps, but he knows it’s necessary for survival. He can force his body to cooperate when he has no choice, and there’s already some kindling packed that might last him the next few hours. That’s all he really needs. Three or four hours of shut eye.

“Johnny,” Gyro repeats, firmer now than before, but his face betrays something else entirely, and his shoulders sag in what looks like defeat.

“‘m not movin’, Gyro.”

“I know, I’m- we rode too hard, sorry,” there’s a guilt to the edge of Gyro’s voice that makes Johnny pause. He looks up with a frown, and he hates the way Gyro’s shoulders are drawn forward. It’s slight, but it’s there. Easy enough for Johnny to read, even if anyone else would miss it.

“Didn’t have much of a choice, and you’re overthinkin’ shit. Probably because you’re just as tired as I am,” it’s not like Johnny hadn’t agreed. Hadn’t refrained from vocalizing his troubles over an hour ago when their options were still poor, but with a bit more energy than either has now. He’s been pushing and pushing, and now he’s backed both of them into a corner with no good choice, which is exactly why he plans to stick it out alone.

Gyro goes quiet. His teeth worry at his lower lip, and his eyes drift off in the distance. It’s another moment before he speaks up again. This time with a renewed sort of certainty, “Trust me?”

“‘course I do. What kinda question is that?”

“Ride with me a little longer?”

“Gyro-” Johnny starts, but Gyro holds up a hand, open palmed and facing toward him.

“I’ll take care of you. When we get into town. If you can just hold onto Slow Dancer and keep moving a little longer, I’ll make sure you get to bed. Deal?”

Johnny rolls the thought around in his head. He doesn’t know what Gyro’s thinking-- never does, really-- but he can’t lie and say that the idea is anything less than appealing.

“Alright,” Johnny concedes. He double checks the straps on his pack and nods toward their chosen path. Gyro grins back at him with those stupid teeth of his on full display. The sudden increase in Johnny’s heart rate will either be the nail in his coffin or the little burst of energy that he needs to keep going. Possibly both. He can’t decide, but he prods Slow Dancer forward and lets Gyro take the lead once more.

The ride remains just as brutal. Johnny’s little burst of adrenaline dies off far too quickly, and he’s back to gripping at the reins with his fingers so tightly that his knuckles are going white. He’d like to think that Slow Dancer would stop if he fell off, but there’s no guarantee, though Gyro keeps glancing back at him with concerned eyes.

When the inn finally comes into view, Johnny feels like crying. Might already be crying, given the misty vision he’s got going, but that’s the fatigue and not the pure relief that floods through him. Right up until he thinks about his chair, and he finds himself contemplating the merits of sleeping in the middle of the makeshift road. It won’t work, he knows. It’ll leave him open to anything and anyone with not so much as the flimsiest barrier between him and potential death. He has no choice but to keep going now.

“Relax,” Gyro says from behind him, already sliding off of Valkyrie. He has her reins in one hand and holds out his hand for Slow Dancer’s. “I told you I’d take care of it.”

Johnny wants to ask what he means, but the words die in his throat. Gyro’s already leading them along to the nearby stable with a clear determination in his stride. Whatever he’s set his mind to, he can’t be stopped now, so Johnny simply allows Gyro to take the lead. Quite literally.

The world passes by in a blur of motion. Gyro ties off Valkyrie first, then Slow Dancer. There’s a moment where Johnny thinks that Gyro disappears that might actually be several minutes rather than seconds. His forehead falls against Slow Dancer’s mane, and he only stays in place because of her effort to counterbalance him.

Gyro shakes him awake gently with that worried frown fixated on his face again. He undoes the straps holding Johnny’s legs against Slow Dancer’s flank with precise hands and turns his back to Johnny. “C’mon. I’ll carry you to our room. It’s already set up, and I paid someone to take care of these two,” he jams his thumb over his shoulder at the two mares.

It says something about Gyro’s concern for him that he’s allowing someone else to take care of Valkyrie. Typically, Gyro wouldn’t trust anyone else with her. Both because of his loyalty toward her, and because of his (justified) paranoia. He does all of her brushing and feedings. Loads and unloads his own supplies. The idea that he would allow someone else to do it for him, unsupervised no less, is almost unthinkable. Johnny would be more touched if he weren’t so focused on transferring from Slow Dancer to Gyro without a catastrophic event.

Gyro’s quick to hook his arms under Johnny the moment he feels the other’s weight against his back. He slides his arms forward and hikes Johnny up enough so that he’s comfortably resting against Gyro’s back with his chin tucked over Gyro’s shoulder. It’s not something that Johnny would typically allow, given how he feels about being coddled, but he’s too exhausted to fight about it now. It’s dark enough outside that he can only hope that no one will see. Anyone that might will hopefully be polite enough to mind their own business.

The trek to their room is relatively short. The inn is just beside the stable, and their room is one of the first to the left of what barely counts as the front desk. Gyro struggles a bit to unlock the door with only one hand. His other arm shifts to support Johnny directly underneath him. It would be an impressive show of strength if it weren’t counterbalanced by the complete lack of hand-eye coordination.

Gyro deposits Johnny on the bed once he finally gets them inside. He crouches down low enough for Johnny to easily slide off of his back and onto the edge of the mattress, where he stays with eyes that are almost entirely shut. Gyro watches him for a minute, caught somewhere between concern and adoration, but there’s a knock at the door a moment later that startles both of them. Johnny snorts a laugh at Gyro, who lightly punches him in the arm. “See if I don’t leave you fully dressed.”

“You promised,” Johnny says immediately, eyes widening slightly.

“You’re in bed, aren’t you?” Gyro grins at him, broad and obnoxious. Johnny sticks his tongue out in retaliation, and Gyro considers pinching it between his fingers just to be annoying. In the end, he decides to be nice and simply fetch their things from outside the door. He piles everything inside and searches through their bags until he finds everything they need for the night.

The first thing he does is pass Johnny his bear. To hold onto so that it doesn’t get lost, and not because Gyro’s sentimental. The next thing he does is debate the best way to go about stripping Johnny down to his undergarments. Easier said than done when Johnny insists on wearing bottoms that serve as both pants and riding boots, but they manage in the end. Johnny’s cooperative, despite his exhaustion. He hooks his arms around Gyro’s neck, so that Gyro can lift him up and slide his pants down to his thighs. Gyro sets him back on the bed and finishes peeling the fabric away, working the boots free as he goes.

Johnny wastes no time getting under the covers then. He curls up on his side, pulling his legs with him as he goes before he curls around the bear and closes his eyes.

“Not going to wait on me, huh?” Gyro asks with mock offense, but Johnny only waves vaguely in his direction. A clear dismissal to Gyro’s supposed distress. “Unbelievable,” he mumbles under his breath, but his smile gives him away.

Fatigue begins to take its toll halfway through undressing himself, and it’s only sheer willpower that sees him through undoing every last strap until he’s left in nothing but his underwear and undershirt. He crawls into bed next to Johnny and drapes an arm lazily across his waist. Johnny doesn’t move in the slightest. In fact, he’s completely unconscious if the small snores are anything to go by, and Gyro doesn’t plan to be long behind him. He closes his own eyes with one hand tucked under the pillow and securely wrapped around one of his steel balls. He’s learned his lesson about being caught off guard in the past. He won’t let it happen again, though he doesn’t have much time to fret over possibilities before the darkness reaches up and hooks its fingers into him.

[newsies-and-the-nutcracker]

Theatre Banter

Summery: The theatre scene between Katherine and Jack, but from Les and Davey’s point of view.

Ships: Kind of Jatherine? None other than that, though. Unless you count the Davey and Les brotherly content I’ve provided for y’all.

I feel like my acc pic is this piece of crappy writing in a nutshell lol

I watched as Jack left Miss Medda just after she’d announced the Bowery Beauties, and started towards a box on the side of the theatre.

“Hey!” Les exclaimed. “Where’s Jack goin’?”

“Quiet down, would you?” I demanded, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know about Jack. Maybe Miss Medda asked him to do something for her.”

“I think there’s someone else up in that box,” he commented, eyes fixed on Jack’s every movement.

I looked up, and sure enough, he was right. A female with auburn hair was seated next to where Jack was standing, currently throwing an annoyed look at her - I assumed - uninvited guest. “Yeah, it’s a girl. Oh, that poor girl…”

“It looks like she likes him,” Les declared, watching as she over-exaggeratedly gestured to the audience.

“Eh...” I grimaced slightly in opposition.

At this point, Les had completely forgotten about the current act, and now seemed to be fully invested in Jack’s failed attempts to win over that girl’s heart. Who was, by the way, tilting back slightly as Jack leant against the railing of the box, slowly trying to close the distance between the two. I could see his lips moving, but I couldn’t make out what was being said.

That was until the redhead suddenly shot up from her seat, fists clenched tightly. “Do you mind?!”

“Man, Jack really knows how to pick up all the ladies!” Les said in admiration as the blue-clad newsboy was scolded by Miss Medda.

“Unfortunately for him,” I muttered, “I don’t think his so-called charms will work on her. Also, you should really think about getting a new role model.”

But my brother continued to ignore me as Jack stared at the girl wistfully, before grabbing a newspaper out of his sack, surprising me. I figured he was going to try to sell it to her. He then took out a pencil and started to draw on the paper, surprising me even more. He was really willing to lose even an extra penny, just so he could draw?

“I think he’s picturing her!” Les exclaimed in excitement, causing me to have to shush him once again. Looking back up, it did seem like it was her he was sketching out, if the constant glances at her were anything to go by.

He must have been very smitten with the girl.

“Yeah, maybe he is.” I placed a hand on Les’ shoulder, causing him to gaze up at me.

“I should paint as a job!” He bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Calm down,” I ordered. “You’re nine. Even Jack doesn’t paint as a job. He’s a Newsie, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I know that.” Les rolled his eyes, as if I was the younger brother who knew nothing. “I just think it’d be a cool job, don’t you? Jack likes it!”

I chuckled, ruffling his hair. “We’ll see. You need a lot of patience to be an artist, though.”

“What does pa-tience mean?” Les asked, cocking his head to the side.

I fought back a smile and sighed. “Well, you need patience to sit in front of a canvas or something like that for a long time. It means you don’t get… restless while doing the painting. Well, not for a bit, at least.”

“Oh.” He furrowed his brows. “Will being an artist make girls get flustered?”

“More like disturbed,” I grumbled under my breath.

“What?”

“I’m not sure,” I said instead, louder this time, laughing nervously. “Maybe if you drew them, it would. You’d have to ask for their permission, though.”

Les seemed to take that into consideration, before glancing back at the pair in the box. “Hey, look! Jack’s coming down now!”

I followed his gaze, seeing that Jack was indeed heading down from the box. I also noticed the girl pick up the paper he left behind, before looking up in disbelief.

I guess drawing them did get them feeling flustered.

Les was already heading for the boy by the time I’d snapped out of my thoughts. I closed my eyes and exhaled for a long moment, before going after him.

“Is she your girl?” Les was asking, pointing up at the said female.

“Deep, deep down in her heart, she wishes she was,” Jack replied, sounding sure of himself. “I think she secretly enjoyed my company, in my humble opinion.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“She was all over ya,” my brother gushed, praising him. “Can ya teach me how to get-”

He wasn’t able to finish as my hand covered his mouth, punctuating his incomplete request. “We really should be getting home, now. I don’t want our folks getting worried…”

Jack blinked. “Yes, dat’s right. Well, I won’t make ya stay. See da two a’ ya tomorrow, huh?”

“If nothing happens,” I agreed. I quickly learnt that I probably shouldn’t have said exactly that as he frowned, and asked what could possibly happen.

“He’s just overthinkin’ things again,” Les brushed him off, causing me to look down at him in bewilderment. He then said in a lower tone, “it’s one of the side effects of bein’ smart.”

“Not true,” I denied, feeling embarrassed at the fact that even my little brother knew of my tendency to overthink things. “I just... like being prepared for any situation out there.”

“Ah, loosen up, Davey.” Jack pointed his chin towards me. “Nuthin’s gonna happen, so quit yer worryin’.”

I grunted somewhat at that. “See ya, Jack.”

He waved, before walking off. “See ya Davey, Les.”

Maybe getting closer to the newsies wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[the--highlanders]

16. Fairy

on ao3.

“I’m not quite sure -” The Doctor stopped, leaning over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “What you think you’ll accomplish here, Jamie.”

“I want tae see the faery well,” Jamie said flatly. “Come on, ye have us runnin’ from beasties all over the place an’ ye cannae even climb a wee hill?”

The look the Doctor gave him was witheringly doubtful, and he laughed. “I dare say I’m a sprinter. Anyway, it’s not such a little hill.”

It was true, as much as it pained Jamie to back down from the banter. Glancing behind them, he looked down over the forest stretched out below. The bare trunks that surrounded them slowly receded behind the slope, vanishing amongst the tops of the trees further down the hill. Across the valley below, the city they had walked up from was tucked amongst the leaves, even its great, bulbous buildings seeming small from their height and distance.

“Alright, then. Not such a little hill.” He tucked the Doctor’s arm into his, pulling him onwards. “But I meant what I said. We’ve had worse than this.”

“Alright, then,” the Doctor repeated back to him, smiling. “And it has been a rather pleasant walk. I’m just not so sure about your chances of finding anything.”

“It’s no’ about finding something,” Jamie said. “Just about goin’ to the place.” The Doctor gave a little non-committal mumble that fell just short of sounding like agreement. “Ye don’t get it.”

“I do,” the Doctor insisted hastily. “But do you really think there’s a – a -” He sighed. “Well, it’s not exactly a faery, is it? This isn’t Earth.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s close enough.”

“But do you really think there’s something up there?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nila said there was. Why should I doubt her?”

The Doctor fell silent, blinking at him. “But there’s no proof,” he said at last, as painfully plaintive as if Jamie had insulted him.

Jamie blinked back at him. “Does there have tae be?”

“Well -” The Doctor wavered from side to side as he walked, tapping his hands together. “I understand that you believe in these things, Jamie, but I simply -”

“Think I’m wrong?”

“Can’t,” the Doctor said firmly. “It isn’t that I don’t believe you. Oh – well – I don’t believe in it – you know what I mean,” he finished awkwardly, flapping his hands as if they could end the sentence for him. “Cultural context, and all that. We see things differently.”

“Oh, aye.” Jamie hooked his fingers through his belt, mulling it over. “So last week – with the Cybermen -”

“When you thought the Cyberman was the phantom piper, yes.”

Nudging at the Doctor’s side, Jamie stuck his tongue out at him. The Doctor pulled a face in return, and they grinned at each other for a moment longer, frustration smoothed out by silliness. “Och, I know it wasn’t that, now. An’ I wasnae exactly thinking straight then, so I wasnae thinking of that. No, I meant – when Polly came up with sprayin’ them. I’d said about holy water, an’ she said -”

“Ah! Yes, I see.” The Doctor nodded. “That’s what I mean, we – we think of things differently, because we come from different places.” He paused, sighing to himself, almost deflating. “But – that isn’t quite it, either, is it? It isn’t like you think Nila’s people are faeries because they can do things that people in your time couldn’t imagine. That would be cultural context. But you’ve never even seen this place. There’s nothing for you to need a – a folklore, or a mythology, to explain.”

Jamie watched him finish rambling with a touch of amusement. “Are ye done tryin’ tae analyse me?” If he had learnt anything from travelling with the Doctor these past two weeks, he thought, it was that he was an odd creature. Clever – too clever for his own good sometimes – but somehow with a knack for missing the obvious. “I’m just interested, that’s all. Why shouldn’t I believe Nila that there’s a faery up there? You’ve trusted her with most other things, here.”

The Doctor stared back at him in disbelief. “Because there isn’t any proof!”

“I didnae see any proof that the sun made those big wheels go round, but ye believed that, alright.”

“But that’s different.”

“Alright, alright.” Jamie held his hands out, as if to placate the Doctor. “So ye say ye need proof tae say there is somethin’ up there. But can ye prove there’s not a faery?” He felt a rush of satisfaction when the Doctor spluttered and floundered, but no coherent words emerged from him. “An’ if ye really want to know, I’m walkin’ up here ‘cause it reminds me of a place I used tae visit.”

“Oh?” The Doctor perked up at that. “What sort of place?”

“They used tae call it Càrn Mòr. Full of trees, but ye could see these big ditches an’ things – an’ bits an’ pieces of a wall runnin’ round it, like.” He traced out a circle in the air. “Dunno if it was a faery or a giant or a man who lived there, but it was there, alright. No’ natural. I used tae walk to it, sometimes. Took a few hours there an’ back, but it was worth it, tae stand there an’ wonder.”

“So you’re walking up here as a sort of a -” The Doctor screwed up his face in thought. “A pilgrimage, because of that place?”

Jamie swiped at him, though he grinned as he did so. “You’re overthinkin’ it again,” he said. “Ye must’ve had faery stories, an’ things, where ye come from. ‘Cause – if your people are so clever that they forgot tae believe in somethin’ else -” It unnerved him, if truth be told, though he did not dare tell the Doctor so. But he could not help thinking of the schoolmasters he had heard of at home, the way they had emptied boys’ heads of stories and filled them with what they thought was good sense, and he shuddered. Not for the first time, he thanked whatever good fortune he had that he had been left to his father’s piping school, and to his mother’s tales. “That’s sad, I think,” he said instead.

“Oh – Oh, I suppose we had stories, about deep time -” The Doctor frowned at Jamie’s triumphant grin. “But that’s different! It was all history. It was true.”

“So’s this tae Nila,” Jamie pointed out. “So’s the faery stories tae me. Maybe it’s just a different sort of history than you’re used to. Did ye ever think of that?”

The Doctor’s silence told Jamie that the answer was no, but he could not bring himself to say it. “I’ve tried awfully hard,” he said slowly, “to think about things differently. Not to be – ah – judgemental, I suppose. To accommodate.”

“I don’t want ye tae accommodate,” Jamie said softly. He had hardly expected the Doctor to come over all serious about it. There was a vulnerability to his expression that he had not seen before, like something about Jamie’s confidence in the faeries had shaken him. “It’s no’ like there’s somethin’ wrong with me, just ‘cause we don’t believe in the same things.” It wouldn’t be nice, he told himself, to have a dig at the Doctor when he was looking so worried – but maybe it would make him smile again. “Cultural context, an’ all that.”

The gamble paid off better than he had hoped, and the Doctor laughed. “Cultural context,” he repeated. “Yes, I suppose it is. I am sorry. Old habits, you know.”

It was not a schoolmaster standing before him in the shape of the Doctor, Jamie thought, but one of the schoolboys, running up against something he could not understand and wondering what to do with it. “’S alright.”

“And who am I, to say that there’s not a faery up there?”

Jamie grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

“So tell me.” The Doctor folded his arms, corners of his mouth twitching – but with fondness, not derision. Not even disbelief. “What else do you believe?”

“Well.” Of course, now he had asked, Jamie was left scrambling around for something – anything – to tell him. “Och, I’m not a good person tae ask. There’s much better storytellers than me.” He had been so caught up in the madness of the past couple of weeks that he had almost forgotten to be homesick, but in that moment he found he missed the people he had once known, and missed them desperately. It ought to have been his mother, he thought, walking up that hill, endless stories on her lips, off to collect another one. But it was just him, left with broken pieces of her words. “See – my mathair, she used tae tell me this story, about the King of the Otters...”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Oh, I got an imagine for ya! Imagine the reader overhears Derek yelling at Eric for having a panic attack that he believes he's faking, telling him that Eric should be more like him, and Eric just secretly wants his father to see what he goes through every day. But then one day something happens to where they switch personalities. Eric gains confidence and Derek becomes shy nervous and downright terrified and overtime (1/2).

“Quit faking those “attacks” you claim to have just to get out of doing work!!!”

You nearly jumped at the booming voice in the hallway, before you walked over to see Derek scowling at his son, face beet-red in anger.

“I-I’m not…f-faking anything!” Eric whimpered as tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt like he was going to collapse at any second given how shaky his legs were. “I..I-I..can’t..!” He coughed, rubbing his eyes and trying to calm himself down.

“Listen, even if you’re not, you gotta start figuring out how to deal with ‘em better.” Derek huffed in disappointment, shaking his head, before he folded his arms across his chest. “If only you were like your old man: not worrying about what everyone’s thinkin’ and just getting shit done-”

“Is everything alright?”

Looking over, the two egos saw you approach them, concerned. Eric fought back the urge to run to you, his terrified gaze still lingering on his father. “Y-Yeah..” He mumbled. “We’re..We’re okay.”

“Yeah. Just had to give him a pep talk. I gotta get back to work.” Derek checked his watch, before glaring at his son one last time. “But think about my words, Eric. Alright?”

“Yes..sir.”

“Good.” With a nod, he left, grumbling to himself as he brushed past you and disappeared down the hallway.

You stepped closer to Eric, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Th-Thanks, [y/n]..I don’t think I could’ve taken much more of….th-that.” He shuddered. “I just wish he’d understand the kinda stuff I go through e-everyday, y’know?”

“I get what you mean,” you nodded in understanding, hugging him gently before you led him to Dr. Iplier’s clinic. Once you reached it, you stopped and turned to him. “You go in there and rest, okay? Maybe you can talk to him about these panic attacks you’re having.”

“And what will you do? If..y-you wanna beat up my dad-”

“I’m not going to do that.” You reassured him with a smile. “Just hang out with the doc for a while.”

Eric meekly nodded, before heading inside the clinic. As you closed the door and headed back to your room for the evening, you sighed, feeling a bit sad he had to deal with this kind of thing every day. 

Of course, Derek was still grieving, too, but that was no excuse for abusing his only living son.

……

When you encountered Eric in the breakroom the next morning, you immediately noticed something was..off.

He was standing up straight, his hands not even quaking as he turned on the instant coffee machine. While he waited for his drink, he turned around and noticed you, blinking in surprise. “Ah, hey [y/n]. You’re up early.”

“Same to you.” You grabbed a nutrition bar from the basket, before gazing at him for a few seconds. “You feeling okay?”

“When I woke up, I felt kinda..different,” he said, checking his watch. “It’s a good kind of different, though. I didn’t wake up dreading the day or anything. I actually got stuff done.”

“Oh! That’s good.” You smiled. “I’m guessing your dad’s words stuck with you?”

“Dunno. Maybe they did.” He shrugged, before he poured his coffee. “I doubt it was a magic bullet that made me less anxious overnight, but…I’m happy so..” Then he took a sip.

The conversation ended there, and you decided to head out and tackle your to-do list for today. 

Given how Ego Inc. had so many floors, and the egos were up to a lot of shenanigans, there was always something to do.

But as you were checking your phone, you accidentally bumped into someone and heard the sound of glasses clattering to the floor. 

“A-Ah! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Recognizing the voice, you looked and saw that it was Derek. You were bewildered that it was even him, but then you saw how shaken up he seemed by the accident, which was…especially unusual. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. kneeling down to pick up his glasses and hand them to him. “What’s wrong? You seem on-edge this morning.”

“I..I don’t know..” He admitted as he put them back on. “I just..woke up feelin’ more stressed than usual. I guess I was overthinkin’ what I said to Eric yesterday. Where is he? I-Is he up?”

“Yeah…are you sure you guys didn’t somehow swap clothes and hairstyles overnight?” You tilted your head curiously.

“N-No! I swear we didn’t! I-I just woke up this way.” Tears brimmed his eyes as he spoke.

‘Okay..something’s definitely not right.��� You began to think. ‘He and Eric are acting like each other…’

“Alright.” You finally answered. “He’s in the breakroom if you wanna see him. I’m…gonna call a friend of mine. I think something’s amiss with you two.”

“O-Okay..good luck figuring it out.” Nodding, Derek left you alone, while you took out your phone and dialed a familiar number.

After a few rings, it fortunately picked up. “Oh hey, [y/n]! Wasn’t expecting you to-”

“Hey Marv, how fast can one of your portals get you to Ego Inc.?”

“Uhh..hopefully instantaneously. Why?”

……….

“Ah, so we got ourselves a classic case of personality swap?” Marvin hummed in interest once you finished explaining everything that transpired this morning.

“Yeah. I have my suspicions. Eric was acting like Derek all day, and vice versa. Though it hasn’t gotten bad…or at least not yet.”

“It still has chance to get bad if all the elements of their personalities were to manifest,” he remarked. “That means this “curse” would be irreversible. But..I wonder..how come you called me for this?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t any of the lads here have some kind of magic? Have you talked to them?”

“There’s a few who posses supernatural powers,” you said. “But since you have a broader range of knowledge on magic, I trust your words more.” 

“Aww, I’m flattered.” Marvin grinned, before he looked down at his spellbook, a slight pout forming on his lips. “Unfortunately, it’s only a simple fix back in my room. It took a lot of energy to get here in one piece, so my mana is…limited. So I’ll need time to figure this out.” He glanced back at you. “Could you find them and bring them in here?”

“Sure thing.” You nodded and left the room, allowing the magician to do his research.

It didn’t take you too long to find the Dereksons, but before you could knock on Derek’s office’s door, you paused as you heard yelling on the other side:

“You know, you should be goddamn lucky you have a son AT ALL!!!”

“L-Listen, boy-”

“Don’t you “boy” me anymore, dad! I’m sick of not being listened to! I work my ass off for your company despite being disabled for years and you still think it’s not good enough!!

“I’m..I-I’m sorry! I’m trying my best-!”

“Well you’re not trying hard enough! You really let me down, and if mom was still here she’d be disappointed, too.”

There was a long silence after that, although when you heard angry footsteps growing louder, you backed away from the door as it swung open. Eric was fuming, though upon seeing you he sighed in irritation. “Sorry about that, [y/n].” Was all he muttered before walking past you.

You gazed at him as he disappeared around the corner, but the sound of soft, muffled sobs brought your attention back to the office.

As you walked inside, you could see Derek cowering in the corner, his face in his hands. Silently, you sat down beside him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. At first he tensed up, but when he realized it was you he embraced you and sobbed into your shoulder, while you stroked his hair soothingly.

You just waited for him to get it all out, and a few moments later his sobs turned to sniffles. He then sighed shakily, resting his head on your shoulder. “S-So..this is how it feels…this is what I..I-I’ve been putting my boy through..” He whimpered.

“Listen,” you spoke softly. “I have a friend over who’s an expert magician. We both suspect you and Eric had some personality-swap overnight. Like a..strange curse.”

“I-I thought magic was just..a buncha debunked B.S…”

You looked at him. “Buddy, you’re living with a demon who lives in monochrome, a reality-warping maniac, and a blind man who can manipulate people with words.”

“..y-you’re right, I’m sorry.” Derek sniffled as he let you go. “But..why did this have to happen to us?”

“I think…when you walked away yesterday, Eric said he wished you’d understand what he goes through everyday,” you explained. “I’m not saying he wanted this to happen, but maybe whatever this “curse” is latched onto those words. Where it came from doesn’t matter. Getting you guys back to normal does.”

He nodded in understanding, before you helped him off the floor. “Now that you..mentioned it..d-didn’t I say I wished he was more like me?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then this is my fault, too.” He bowed his head. “Why did I ever say that? I’m so stupid..”

“Hey. Neither of you could’ve known this would happen.” You rubbed his arm in comfort. “I’ll bring you to Marvin, then I’ll go find Eric, and we’re gonna fix this, okay? And maybe get you both some therapy while we’re at it.”

“A-Alright.” Derek smiled a bit as he looked at you again. “Lead the way.”

[retro-rudy]

Logic- No Pressure Album Review

In summation of Logic's career, the foremost qualities that can’t go unnoticed is the dedication, respect and admiration the man has always had for the art of hip-hop. From the beginning, dating back to his Young Sinatra mix-tape series, in an era where trap beats were overtaking hip-hop, Logic arrived as a breath of fresh air with his conscious driven lyrics and entertaining flow, fueled by the boom-bap style he enjoyed from earlier influences such as Wu-Tang Clan, A Tribe Called Quest, and Mos Def. Logic lived up to the hype and expectations by delivering a successful debut album and painting a promising future, in which, considering how the industry measures success, Logic went onto surpass by reaching the heights of mainstream play and various award nominations with his next 2 studio albums. Amid the commercial success came the broader spotlight, the very one that emphasized his every move, and drew fluctuated criticism to an all-time high for the Maryland emcee. The challenges for Logic however were not the subjective opinions people had towards his music, but rather stemmed from the more personal jokes, memes, and the non-music related opinions that seemed to overshadow the music he was creating for audiences. In 2019, these unfortunate circumstances led Logic to step away from music and social media for some time with no public explanation to the reasoning of his hiatus. That was until the ever so unpredictable 2020 saw Logic emerge with a staggering album announcement accompanied by an unexpected retirement announcement.

Logic, returned in 2020 as many anticipated, with his 7th and final studio album, No Pressure. The joint announcement of album date and retirement came on July 16th, just one week before the set album release date. While the announcement was abrupt and left many with lingering questions, the 1 week wait would eventually lead fans to the clear reasoning of his decision through No Pressure’s foundation of honest and convincing lyrics.

Right out of the gates, Logic sets the tone and premise of the direction he will take the album on the opening track, No Pressure Intro. Logic applies audio from the famous Orson Wells “The Hitchhiker” introduction, which Logic chops and edits perfectly to bring us into the album. Within the edits, Logic cites No I.D and The Incredible True Story to give the intro a fun twist that adds the thematic touch many have grown accustomed to in Logic’s discography. The fundamentally ear-hitting boom-bap beat produced by NO I.D could not have been curated any better for Logic on the opener. Logic and the instrumental go hand in hand as he delivers bar after bar for over a minute and a half before reaching an abrupt interruption that catapults you into the next track. “B*tch I’m too alive, like twins in a womb, come hither, consume” and “But it cost a fee to be the boss it cost to be, over possessions like an apostrophe.” are some of the more standout bars on this intro.

           On No Pressure, Logic’s overall mood comes off positive, natural, motivated and unforced which benefits each song on this record in its own way. On songs such as Hit My Line, Celebration, and Amen, Logic’s unhinged and unpressed mind state injects everlasting life and validation to the long peace, love and positivity advocate. Logic’s comfort with his current-self shines through on Hit My Line with a confident, worry-free chorus and candid verses as he persuasively calls on god for a fixing of humanity. Logic’s positive drive has been a stapled message within his raps since the beginning of his career and the messaged remains well intact on Hit My Line and the entirety of this project. The confidence he shows when he says, “They say they don’t want messages in rap, it ruins the art. Well here I am people, yeah, now tear me apart.” further endorses his attempt of leaving it all out for this record with no regrets. Even on the track, Celebration, where Logic taps into his braggadocio side of rap to pen out the worry-free mindset he now has and how there is nothing for him to prove to anyone, you can hear the freeing mentality he has as he spits:

“It’s been a minute now; my style is feeling infinite now. Used to people pulling me down, it ain’t shit to me now. Don’t let it get to me now: threw out my phone, they can’t get to me now.”

These tracks dwell on a cheerful and flamboyant tempo that Logic ceases throughout the entirety of the tracks. The same can be said for songs like Dadbod, Perfect, and 5 Hooks, that show versatility in terms of beat choices and the ability of Logic to naturally execute each varying flow that comes off as effortlessly in this stage of his career.

           Meshed in with the collection of the more upbeat and elated-expressive tracks, Logic sprinkles in tracks built off well executed hip-hop samples that serve up a heavier dose of conscious articulated bars. Dating back to the Young Sinatra mix-tapes, Logic has never been shy to wear his influences on his sleeve, and tracks like GP4 and Man i is prove this to the be the case in present day. GP4, a nostalgic tie-in with Logic’s Growing Pains’ song collection, which we last heard on Under Pressure, contains a sample constructed from OutKasts’ Elevators song from ATLiens. Given the track record of various and well-respected hip-hop samples Logic has placed on each of the Growing Pains’ tracks, this one fits cohesively with the bunch. Much like the previous Growing Pains’, Logic leans on his story telling to paint witty and mental pictures of a variety of thoughts floating in his mind. From adolescent memories, to admitting his once determination of becoming the greatest rapper alive now being inessential, Logic goes onto acknowledge how the greatest rapper alive might not even be rapping and is instead stacking groceries at an ordinary 9 to 5 with no care in the world, resembling much how Logic feels at this point in his career. On Man i is, Logic’s maturity and growth flourishes among the inspired instrumental created out of an iconic mashup consisting of OutKasts’ SpottieOttieDopaliscious, Tarika Blues’ Dreamflower, DJ Screw and Pimp C. Logic self-reflects as he looks back on where he came from and what he endured, to which through it all has led him to this point in life where he can confidently say he is sincerely proud of the man he has become. In hip-hop it’s made well-aware that high expectations are to be met when paying homage to classics and Logic absolutely fulfills the task on this one in a form that without a doubt places Man i is among the most prominent tracks within his discography. Open Mic\\Aquarius III keeps Logic on the lyrical prowess and serves as a bridge for fans to connect with the bar for bar artillery the emcee has long had. The beat switch that takes place in this track is superb with the pure hip-hop cypher sound of Open Mic interestingly transitioning into the more jazzy and mellow Aquarius III. The high-volume of bars continues immediately on the following track, Soul Food II. The deserving sequel to one of Logic’s held in high regards track off his debut album Under Pressure. Logic retains the format of spitting a series of bars as he did in the original Soul Food. It’s warming and evident to hear the growth in both, his mentality as a human and abilities of his craft as an artist when you hear both songs in sequential order. In Soul Food II, mentally, Logic remains as humble and passionate as ever while sonically the tone and delivery of his raps resonate with the listener enough to have them capture and break down his every word. This along with the metaphors within this song is what prompts Soul Food II to standout on its own and give its predecessor a run for its money, and dare I say, maybe even edge out the original.

           On the last leg of the album is where I find Logic taking the listener towards the conclusion of the album on a pure, passion driven energy specifically due to the openness of Dark Place, and the spiritually motivating Heard Em Say. Dark Place is the first of its kind for the emcee as it is by far the most personal track Logic has ever released. While Logic has been open about personal situations before, it has never been to the degree and sentiment he lets out on the track. What was meant to remain an unreleased and personal track shares a transparent view of his feelings regarding the real toll the amount of negativity and criticism took on his mental state.

“Writin’ rhymes was easy before the fame. Now I’m constantly overthinkin’ every line, it’s a shame. Rap used to fill me with joy, now it’s nothin’ but pain. I’m stuck in the game, tryna get back from where I came.”

 The entire song contains some of Logic’s most honest and heart-breaking lyrics that transport you directly to the most difficult year he experienced as a mainstream artist. “I’d love to end this on some positive shit. Hit you with punchlines instead of some derogative shit, but it’s okay to be sad sometimes and tired of shit.. I guess.” Logic becomes as relatable to the listener as ever with his sincerity on here. And while the song might show vulnerability, it’s okay. In the end the fan and artist label are irrelevant compared to the human label we all fall under. Another evident example of the earnest connection between Logic and his Rattpack. Fittingly so, the best in my opinion is saved for last. Heard Em Say easily ranks in the top 5 of Logic's entire released discography for me. From self-producing the song, to writing one of his most heartfelt verses, the song sums up as one of Logic’s most range defining cuts from an artist standpoint. The 3rd verse on Heard Em Say is one of Logic’s best verses from his discography, and impressively so isn’t due to the depth of lyricism, but due to Logic’s infinite passion heard throughout the verse. Logic grabs you with every word and instills raw emotion and inspiration with a hopeful send off in quintessential fashion Logic has long been known for.

After Confessions of a Dangerous Mind failed to reach favorable appreciation within hip-hop enthusiasts, and his fan base respectively; the project left many wondering if perhaps Logic’s better days were behind him. With unfavorable reviews and criticism weighing heavily on the emcee, Logic spent the better part of 2019 and 2020 writing raps vigorously on his Louis Vuitton rhyme book as he mentions on the freeing Amen.��Logic stated in an interview with Nick Huff Barili of Hard Knock TV, that No Pressure essentially came to fruition out of his essential love for hip-hop no longer being intact, before coming to the conclusion of ending his career and delivering a final project in the form of which he came into the game with, a project he would give his every ounce of love for hip-hop to, to showcase pure hip-hop built on a foundation of bars and verses made up of the emcee’s best abilities. With executive production from No I.D, No Pressure achieves this and sees Logic set the record straight in his place among hip-hop. In retrospect, while the time apart might have been difficult, I believe both Logic and fans of Logic in the long run reached a perfect ending of a prominent and inspiring career. No Pressure serves as a celebrated accumulation and reflection of the inspiring emcees’ hip-hop career, the final chapter that gives the fan closure and comprehension for his farewell. Logic is now free of pressure and has found happiness by obtaining the greatest blessing in life, family. Thank you for delivering us this classic, and the best of wishes on your future endeavor Bobby. Final rating: 10

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Spilled Secrets Of Sweetness

Title: Spilled Secrets Of Sweetness

Word Count: 1,150

Warnings: None!!

Ship: The Demon and the Choir Girl (Nero x myself)

Summary: When I confide my minor worries about my upcoming procedure to Nico. She then spills that I'm not the only one to get so worried!

"So, the big day's tomorrow. You excited?" The familiar southern drawl of Nicoletta Goldstein questioned when a warm touch gripped Rebecca's shoulders from behind.

Having her attention grabbed as well, the lone student paused in packing up her things to flick her darkened orbs upward in order to meet the vibrant gaze that rested behind ruby spectacles. Rebecca swept her amythest tresses out of her view to fully focus on the grinning woman who now sat beside her while a curious hum floated into the air to act as a temporary answer.

"Even though the sense of irony and deja vu grows stronger as the time comes closer, I'd say so!" Rebecca finally responded, returning the wide smile with a beaming one of her own. Seizing the chance before her stabbing nerves could pierce through her vocal chords, she continued on with the subject before the silence could let it slip away. "Hopefully THIS will be what sets my life back on track, even if the procedure itself becomes more regularly scheduled maintenance work. What I'm worried about is how long I will be laid up afterward. The doctors have said at least 2 weeks before I resume PT, not to mention that I still need to talk to the doctor about that inpatient pain program at another hospital. It's a whole ordeal."

Despite only vocalizing more uncertainties that remained swirling in her unyielding thoughts, the churning within Rebecca's stomach seemed to have slowed as Nico patted the shoulder that was closest to her.

"Yer overthinkin' too much, Hun. Just focus on tomorrow and how yer feeling when you wake up after it's said and done y'know?"

Lavender locks swayed to and fro when they were caught in the minuscule breeze of Rebecca's nod of affirmation. The smile that graced her petal-like lips seemed much gentler as the young woman thought over her curly haired friend's direct advice.

"Yeah, you're right, I know. I just need someone to pull me out of my own head sometimes."

The everlasting smile on Nico's lips further spread across her face and an unmistakable mischievous sheen reflected within her onyx gems, "Well, I'm always happy to do so! Even if we won't be able to get up to our 'usual' antics for a bit, I'm more than happy to stop by and annoy ya!"

At this, a short yet boisterous laugh filled the quiet space, before the lilac lady quickly peered around to make sure that she hadn't disturbed any other patrons. "Oh please, Ms. Awesome Artisan, if anything it would be me bugging you!! But I will miss it!"

The two shared another laugh while Nico took the small woman's compliment with full pride causing her to sit a little straighter. "Me too, be sure to keep me in the loop so we can schedule some things! Or try to schedule something at least... I do got one favor to ask though."

Taking notice of how Nico leaned in closer and how her inky depths narrowed to swallow Rebecca's sitting frame, the young woman nodded as a cue for the suddenly quiet woman to go on.

"D'ya think you can take him with you?" Nico whispered, jerking her thumb down the small set of stairs and directly at the man with messy moonlit tangles who stood at the front counter with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets as he made awkward small-talk with the librarian who was checking in the pile of books that the man's father had taken out a few weeks prior.

"Huh?" Rebecca remarked, too taken back by the sight of her boyfriend to match Nico's volume. "What'd he do??"

"It's not that he's done anything. It's what he will do! Y'see, he gets mopey when you're not around. I swear, as soon as he comes back in after a job, one of the first things out of his mouth is yer name!"

"O-oh, I hope it's nothing bad!" Rebecca interjected, feeling her pale face begin to flush a rosy hue.

"Nah, it's actually sweet seein' how sappy the tough guy gets over you. I don't know how you don't see all the good you bring out in him."

Rebecca tried to interject her flustered denial once more seeing how her fair skin was burnt scarlet, but Nico only hushed her before continuing with her explanation.

"But whenever you undergo one of your procedures, it's like yer the only thing on his mind! I get that he's protective of you and worried out of his mind probably, but he mentions you so often that yer name don't even sound like a real word! Again it is really sweet seein' that side of him if it wasn't also sickeningly brain numbing."

Imaging that she was sweetly thought of in passing was enough to leave Rebecca's cheeks stained a vibrantly red shade. But Nico was right about her conundrum being sickeningly sweet since imagining that left the flustered woman dissolving into a fizzy fit of giggles. Before she could provide an answer to the stunning spectacle of inventions, their conversation was cut off by Nero stomping up the carpeted stairs to join the pair.

"Hey, whatever embarrassing shit you're whispering, knock it off will ya? Whatever she told you Becca, I assure you it's not that bad."

Nico only rolled her eyes and leaned against the hardwood back of her chair in retaliation to the scowl etched into the hotheaded hunter's features. It took Rebecca a moment to catch her breath from the giggles, which led her to interlace her soft touch with the hardened hold of her love and press a quick kiss against the chilled sleeve of his jacket in the meantime.

"It wasn't bad, I promise sweetie! It was actually super sweet and made my day."

Nero's icy crystals expanded with mild surprise when they focused on his girlfriend's glowing form while he voiced it with a nearly silent 'Oh'. A wave of warmth flooded his tall stature soon after. Despite the sensation thoughtlessly providing ease and comfort to the restless punk, he wasn't allowed to bask in it for long without their very vocal friend made her presence known once more.

"Yeah, I gotcha covered, asshole. So why don't quit your bitchin' for once and to make up for it, take us to lunch with you buyin'?"

"What?" Nero groaned, casting the loud lady a glare as he heaved the ash colored backpack that laid on the table over his shoulder. "That is such--"

With more laughter burbling within her chest, Rebecca tried to diffuse their banter by saying that she'd happily treat the others to lunch since she had some cash saved up. Although it seemed the quarreling couple of friends could only agree on the decision that the lilac lady was the only one not to pay, much to Rebecca's resounding defeat...

[zenithlux]

Cadence Update - CH 8

Catch up on the story here

When the road looks rough ahead And you're miles and miles From your nice warm bed You just remember what your old pal said You've got a friend in me

You’ve Got a Friend in Me - Randy Newman

It didn’t take long to finish clean-up on the tracks, so Vergil was grateful that Roxy was reinvigorated by the end of it. The chances of them encountering more demons on that particular night were slim to none. Even outside of Fortuna, few would dare attack until they were beyond desperate and had sufficient help to try again. 

The two went to the train station next, hoping to pick up Roxy’s supplies. Unfortunately, that idea had gone out the window as soon as they saw the crowd waiting around. Vergil promised he’d come back another day on his own, which had earned him a very happy smile and a genuine thank you.

He’d felt odd after that exchange, but decided to think about it later. 

Now, at her request, the two had gone back to Devil May Cry, but only after Vergil casually confirmed with Nico that Dante was still with the others. 

And that’s how Vergil had come to stare at a Kuraokami at a fraction of his previous size a few rooftops away from home. And, for whatever reason, Aki was sitting on the arch-demon's head with a look that could only be described as “smug”. Of course, Vergil wouldn’t have known that if he hadn’t had his own equally condescending bird familiar less than a year prior, but that wasn’t important. 

“And this is how you know I’ve got enough energy,” Roxy said as she patted the dragon’s neck. “Ready to fly home, Kuro?” The dragon’s eyes flickered to her, followed by a quiet huff as he looked back to the sky. “I knew you’d be,” She said as she turned to Vergil. “I should be good for a few days, so don’t worry.”

He quickly buried his first instinct - Why would I worry? - realizing that it would have come out far more sarcastic than genuine. Instead, he stepped a bit closer to the dragon, questions rolling through his mind almost too fast to grab. And when Kuro’s gaze met his, Vergil realized he didn’t know where to even start. 

But is that really a bad thing?

He didn’t have the answer to that either.

“I know who you are, Son of Sparda.”

Vergil’s eyes snapped up to the dragon’s. Kuro’s gaze was fully on him now, unflinching with a hint of curiosity. Or amusement; that was much more likely given the way the archdemon had only barely tilted his head to look at him. Then he realized Roxy was smiling too as if this sudden information didn’t surprise her in the slightest. “You knew?” He said. 

“Of course,” She said. “I knew you were part demon thanks to Aki, but Kuro says he recognized your scent.” She paused, her hand on Kuro’s neck. Then, she turned toward Vergil again. “But that doesn’t change anything,” She said. “I just want you to know that.”

Vergil stared at her. “Change… what?”

Her cheeks flushed a bright red as she looked away. “I wasn’t…” She coughed somewhat awkwardly. “That wasn’t why I… wanted to be friends.” 

“Then why…?”

Kuro’s laugh boomed in all directions, reverberating in Vergil’s very bones. He flinched, but Roxy merely glared at the dragon, clearly hearing more in the noise than he did. “Your father was just as clueless in his youth as you.”

Vergil wasn’t certain whether he should be offended or curious. “You knew him, then?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Indeed.” The dragon slid onto his belly and dropped his wings to the ground. “Come, Creator. You need your rest.”

“Creator?” Vergil said.

“It’s a nickname he gave me a few years ago,” Roxy said as she hopped onto the dragon’s back. As he stood up, ice formed around her legs and up over her hips, locking her in place. If it bothered her, she didn’t show it. “Apparently, that’s the name they gave to the “artists” of his time or something.” She shrugged. “I told him it sounds a bit pretentious, but he insists on using it.” Kuro huffed again, and Roxy laughed. “Yes, yes I hear you, oh wise one.” Kuro rose, wings stretching so fast that Vergil had to blink out of the way to avoid getting smacked off the roof. “Thank you again, Vergil,” Roxy said. “Maybe next time we can avoid the unfriendly demons.”

Vergil was silent for a long moment, eyes on her. She looked confident, but he saw a twinge of worry in her eyes; a slight twitch that betrayed her. “Give me some time,” Vergil said. “The jobs will be plentiful for the next few days.” 

The tension in her shoulders dissipated, and she nodded. “I’ll take care of whatever shows up around my home, so don’t worry about that.” Kuro growled and Roxy rolled her eyes. “Impatient as always.” She shook her head before her smile returned. “Have a good night.” 

Vergil paused, uncertain exactly how one should respond to that. No one had ever said it to him before. Nero didn’t speak with him. He never saw Nico this late or enough for it to matter. Even Dante, who Vergil saw nearly every night, had never once told him to “have a good night”. And he must have looked at least somewhat perplexed, because Roxy continued with, “Message if you need anything, okay?” Then Kuro growled in annoyance before he leaped off the rooftop. He angled upward within a few seconds, flying far out of the range of normal, human vision. But Vergil watched them leave for as long as he could, his phone suddenly very heavy in his pocket.

I should’ve said something.

He resisted the urge to sigh. 

You are waaaay overthinkin’ it, Shakespeare. 

Griffon would probably cackle more than Vergil’s mental representation of the bird did. But the point was loud and clear. Dante and Nico would have said the same thing. But it was too late now. She was long gone. Even if he did know where she lived, he certainly wasn’t going to go after her now. His social skills were poor, yes, but not that bad. He’d just have to make it up to her next time. 

Next time. 

Vergil’s lips twitched in an almost-smile as he shook his head and hopped off the roof, determined to enjoy some quiet time before Dante found his way back to the shop. 

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

Unfortunately, the next few days didn’t go as well as Vergil had hoped. 

The jobs hadn’t been particularly plentiful, and he’d had every intention to give most of them to Dante anyway. He had intended on reading for a few days. But instead, he found himself stuck in bed after the months of little to no sleep finally (and aggressively) caught up to him. Between the nightmares and occasional lucid, irritated arguments with Dante who apparently kept checking on him, Vergil didn’t remember much. Nothing but darkness and demons. Cold metal seering into his skin. Never-ending pain racking across his skin. A voice forever looming...

You can’t escape me, Nelo.

Vergil jerked awake after that, and vowed to keep himself awake for as long as possible. Not because it was the smart thing to do - even he knew that - but because he didn’t know how else to stop them. He focused back on jobs. Avoided the probing questions of his brother, and moved on; life as normal. 

So, when he received his first, non-Dante related text message, he was surprised to find it didn’t bother him nearly as much as he thought it should. 

The sound caught him off guard, both because he hadn’t heard that particular tone before (Dante had set a “special” one for himself that Vergil hadn’t bothered to change) and he hadn’t realized his phone was on at all. A miscalculation on his part, as very few demons took kindly to loud, screechy noises. At least he could handle their sudden agitation without any issues. 

And, more importantly, Dante wasn’t around to laugh at the split second of confusion that Vergil was certain crossed his face. 

A few minutes later, after confirming there wouldn’t be any more scum left to deal with (common rabble was all he dealt with nowadays. Which was probably a good thing), Vergil glanced at his phone. His eyes widened when he saw her name, followed by a short message. 

I’m sorry to bother you, but it seems I’m in a bit of a pickle.

For a long moment, Vergil did nothing but stare at the phone. He didn’t want to admit that it had taken him an extra few seconds to realize that was a figure of speech, and that Roxy was (most likely) not trapped in some giant pickle somewhere (as amusing as that would be). He also didn’t know how to respond. This was the first message she’d ever sent him, and Vergil had to admit he was quite impressed that she had waited this long to do so. He had asked for time, yes, but very few people in his life actually gave it to him. 

The phone chirped again, and Vergil’s eyes narrowed. Dante must have gotten to it, as Vergil would never use such an obnoxious, bird noise for a ringtone. He made a mental note to figure out how to change it later when another message appeared. 

It’s okay if you’re busy. 

Vergil frowned. That had to be a lie, right? Why would she have messaged him if she wasn’t expecting something? Why text now after a week respecting his wishes if she wasn’t in peril? Was it a trick? Was there something he was missing? Did he ignore it and wait for something else? Message back? Call her?

His mental Griffon snorted. Cool it. 

For once, the familiar-turned-annoying conscience was right. What good would it do to overthink it? If she had something important to tell him, then she would have to say it. Vergil was not about to fall prey to some strange, convoluted conversation that was meant to confuse him more than...

It was the third message that stopped him in his tracks.

But I don’t know who else to call.

Finally, Vergil unlocked the phone and found her name with a few quick swipes. It rang twice before she answered, and the following “Hello?” sounded almost as surprised as he felt.

“What do you want?”

In hindsight, that was probably the worst way to start that conversation, and a loud snort from someone that clearly wasn’t holding the phone all but confirmed it. “Is this the half-demon hunk you keep talking about?” 

He swore he heard Roxy choke on her breath. “Dia!” She said. “That’s not… I mean he’s my friend but not…”

“Bah,” The older woman said. “With how much you’ve talked about…”

“Can we not do this right now?”

“Actually this is quite entertaining, dear. I’m excited to meet him.”

“Oh for the love of…” Roxy sighed. “I need… help.”

It took Vergil a moment to realize that she’d started speaking to him. “With?”

“She’s overworked herself,” the woman’s voice echoed over the phone. “When I clearly told her…”

“Do you want me to talk to him or not?” Roxy said. A moment of silence followed before she spoke again. “You can take it as a job request if it’ll make it easier to explain to your brother.”

“Considerate,” Vergil said, his voice far more sarcastic than he’d actually intended. It actually was quite thoughtful of her to think of such a thing. “What kind of job are you hiring for?”

“I need some demonic essence,” She said. “Quickly, if at all possible.”

He heard another snort in the distance. “You really should explain the severity of the situation.”

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

“She’s paralyzed, good-looking.”

Vergil’s mind went blank, uncertain what this unfamiliar woman was getting at. Roxy groaned before he could say anything. “Dia will you just…”

“And needs a large amount of essence to recover. I believe there are a few Behemoths a few blocks away that Roxy wasn’t able to take care of in her current state. That should be more than enough. And don’t worry if you absorb it, I’ll take care of the rest.” She paused, humming in thought. “It might actually be better that way.”

“Is the amount I paid you last time adequate for a job of this caliber?” Roxy asked.

“It’s more than enough,” Vergil said. “Where should I meet you once its done?”

“It’ll have to be my house,” She said. “I’ll shoot you the address if that’s alright.”

“Give me half an hour.”

“Thank you, Vergil,” Roxy said. “Sorry again.”

“No need to apologize,” He said with an unintentional smirk. “You are a paying client, after all.”

Roxy laughed, but was quickly cut off with a hiss of pain. “I’ll throw in a generous tip if you can swing by Fortuna and grab those boxes they’ve refused to send to me.” Vergil heard a groan from the second woman (priorities, girl), but Roxy ignored her. “And I really appreciate it.” 

Vergil paused, contemplating where exactly he wanted this conversation to go. A part of him considered thanking her for the time she’d given him. Another piece wanted to chastise her for not calling sooner when she’d pushed herself so far that she was paralyzed again. But the largest portion of his rational brain considered the unknown demon-woman in the background who he wasn’t too keen on hearing any of his private thoughts (explaining them to one new person was challenging enough). Instead, he simply said “Send me everything you need, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Then, he hung up and opened a portal before he could second guess himself. 

A job was a job, after all. And that was something Vergil could complete to perfection.

[pokemon-swsh-bartender-au-crew]

Heavy Heart, Heavy Soul: Chapter Fourteen

———————

Still, while Piers did believe that his friend Leon would be at least a semi-trustable babysitter for Marnie, he couldn’t help but get a bad feeling about this. So, despite having known Leon ever since they were kids, he had his doubts about how much Leon could really be trusted. But surely he had nothing to worry about, right? He sighed quietly as he looked to the side, trembling slightly as he spoke softly. “T...Thanks fer findin’ someone ta babysit my lil’ sis’ ‘til I’m able ta leave the hospital, Rai... I... I just don’t want my lil’ sis’ ta be wit’out supervision fer too long of a period of time... But maybe I’m just overthinkin’ things, right?” Raihan, whom was still heartbroken over what had happened, was trying his best to stay calm and not start crying again. That incident that got Piers in the hospital had really traumatized him to say the least. But of course, he would still answer Piers. “Everything’ll be alright, ok, Piers? You know very well that I would never let anyone take you from me permanently and that I’d make sure that Marnie stayed safe if there was ever a time you couldn’t be there to protect her.” With having heard that, Piers simply nodded a bit in understanding.

As for Leon, he was currently rather bored as he was keeping an eye on Marnie. You probably think he was at his family’s house in Postwick, right? Actually, he had a decent sized house in Wyndon, which is where he was with Marnie right now. Knowing that he had failed to actually kill Piers had certainly left him on quite a sour mood. After all, everything he’s done to try to get Raihan to leave Piers had only strengthened Raihan’s love for Piers; the exact opposite of what Leon wanted. Why couldn’t things just go the way Leon for just once? Why couldn’t he just get Raihan to break up with him. And while Leon was one person that Piers had no idea he should even have to fear, there was yet another person Piers was unaware that he should fear as well. After all, it was Raihan’s fault for not reading the fine print on the resignation contract he had to sign when he quit his job as Galar’s Eighth Gym Leader. Oh, if he had just read the fine print, he could have saved Piers from having to go through a lot of trouble with Rose. But since Raihan had failed to read the fine print, Piers was going to have to one day pay the consequences for that mistake Raihan made. But that may not be for a while at least. One thing however, is certain. And that is that Raihan has majorly fucked up Piers’s life by not reading that fine print. This is exactly why no one should trust the Chairman because you never know when he’s going to try to trick people.

Leon sighed as he glanced over at Marnie to just see what she was up to, which Marnie was simply playing peek-a-boo with her Morpeko quietly. He knew he had to wait for Piers to leave the hospital before he could screw with Piers’s life further than he already had. That is of course, unless he were to perhaps let something bad happen to Marnie. He knew that girl meant the absolute world to Piers because she was basically all the family Piers had left. And on top of that, if Piers lost Marnie, he’d have no one to take over his Gym for him since well, no one other than Marnie has ever had interest in taking over the Dark Type Gym. Meaning, Piers cannot retire until he finds someone suitable to take over his Gym for him. Which that would only add more stress onto Piers as well as make Piers have to go through the grief of losing the only family he had left, which would overall possibly push Piers’s depression far enough that Piers can no longer stand living. Leon could only hope that this is what would get Piers to give up. But the thing is, how could he make murder look like an accident? Or was this really taking things too far this time? At this point, Leon wasn’t sure. But for now, this was nothing more than a mere thought that may never actually be put into action. This is really basically possibly a last resort plan if it ever were to come down to this. If nothing else works to separate Piers and Raihan, then it’s goodbye Marnie. Even if he didn’t take Marnie away from Piers, he still had other ways to screw with Piers further.

Though, one thing is for certain. Even if he didn’t harm another person that Piers cared about, he sure as hell knew how to make Piers’s life a living hell if it were necessary which to Leon, it was completely necessary. And since Leon and the Chairman chat frequently, oh, you can bet he knew about Raihan not reading the fine print as well as Leon knowing every little detail that Raihan missed in that fine print. And since Raihan has no idea what that fine print said, if the Chairman and Leon add on to the fine print, Raihan wouldn’t even know that anything had been added on since he never bothered to read it. And because of this little fact, this could make it all so much easier for Leon to really fuck up Piers’s life in a much larger variety of ways. Leon looked over at Marnie and spoke calmly yet in a also serious tone to her despite what was on in his mind at the moment. “Hey Marnie? I know I’m supposed to be watching you right now, but I just remembered I’m late for a really important meeting. Could you promise to stay here until I get back from the meeting?” That was a lie. There was no set up meeting that Leon had. He just needed an excuse to be able to go talk to the Chairman. Marnie looked over at Leon then looked down at Morpeko, speaking softly and shyly. “I guess that would be alright as long as you’re not gone too long…” Leon smiled a seemingly normal smile, trying his best not to get a chilling grin on his face. “Thanks for listening, Marnie. I’ll be back soon.” After having said that, he got up, walking out of his house and closing the door behind him. He had no idea that Marnie saw a small piece of paper fall out of his pocket.

———————

First Chapter: https://pokemon-swsh-bartender-au-crew.tumblr.com/post/616794959808479232/warning-this-story-overall-contains-topics-of

Previous Chapter: https://pokemon-swsh-bartender-au-crew.tumblr.com/post/618115920068509696/heavy-heart-heavy-soul-chapter

Next Chapter: https://pokemon-swsh-bartender-au-crew.tumblr.com/post/618194577257545728/heavy-heart-heavy-soul-chapter

[t-khalynn-tales]

Meetings and Farewells, Part 1

The Letter - Talathar

Tala took a deep breath, staring down at the still-blank page before her.

Is just a letter, she chided herself sternly. Is just writin’ down th’ words ‘nside my head. Isnae hard ta do.

And yet, she’d been staring at the page for the past ten minutes now. After spending the fifteen minutes before that straightening up her desk. Because the five minutes before that, she’d spent making a mess of it, rummaging through drawers looking for her favorite pen.

Irritably, she shook her head.

Gotta stop overthinkin’. Gotta focus.

With a look is sheer determination, she pushed her fears aside and took up the pen. She dipped the nib into the inkwell, carefully blotted it a few times to knock off some excess ink, then pressed it firmly to the page.

__________

Hello Meilee,

Thank you for accepting this letter. I know it’s kind of strange, but I thought maybe this would be better for a first introduction.

Hi. My name is Talathar. I am a lalafell orphan, and I was found almost fifteen years ago by my adoptive mother, Khalynn Tahl. She’s a Hyur, from Gridania.

And I think we might be related. At least, it seems like it. I’m friends with some folks who say we look a lot alike, like family. Blood family. I don’t remember any blood family. But then, I can’t remember lots of stuff, before my mother found me.

But I think that’s because of what happened before. Because, I think, during the time I can’t remember, some bad people were doing research into aetherical energies. And they were using people to experiment on. And I think I was one of them.

Because of all the scars I have. Some of them were for certain caused by magics. But there is also the brand mark on my left shoulder. Talin says you showed her your book. And my brand looks the same as a mark in your book, she said.

So, we might be family. If you want, anyway - I don’t want to force anything on you. But, if you want, we could maybe meet up. And see if being family works out.

If you are willing, please let Talin know. Whenever. Take your time to decide. I asked her to let me know your decision, when you’re ready.

Thank you, and take care.

Sincerely,

Talathar Khalynn Tahl

__________

There was a soft knocking at the door, met only by silence. The second knock was also unanswered. There was no third, as instead the door slowly opened, revealing a clearly annoyed miqo’te woman.

“Tala, it’s late,” M’yrissa admonished sternly, golden eyes flashing in the soft lantern light. “Why are you still…”

Her voice trailed off.

The diminutive lalafell was curled up at her desk, fast asleep. Her fingers were ink-stained, and there were smudges on her face as well. Crumpled, balled-up pages lay scattered on and around the desk. Yet off to one side were two pages, clearly written, carefully laid out to dry cleanly.

Curious, she glanced over the letter quickly, then looked over at her sister again in understanding. She shook her head, then shook her sister’s shoulder gently.

“Tala. Come now, it’s time for bed,” she said quietly.

Sleepy grumbles were the only response at first, but after a little more coaxing, the grumpy lala barely opened one eye. The normally bright blue eye blinked dully in the dim light, taking in the familiar form of her sister before she murmured consent. The eye closed again, and she drifted back to sleep almost immediately.

M’yrissa sighed in relief. She knew from past experience that trying to suddenly pick up or grab a sleeping Tala was often not wise. The night terrors were better now, but still occasionally cropped up. Gently, she bent to lift her sister up, and carried her to bed.

Once Tala was settled, the youngest Tahl returned to the front chamber, quietly returning the cluttered desk to its normal, semi-organized state. But as she was returning the blank pages to the desk drawer, an idea made her pause a moment. Lips pursed, she hesitated only briefly before reaching for her ever-present pouch of colored pencils.

__________

The next morning, Tala woke up. In her comfy bed. And her comfy jammies. Not at her uncomfy desk, wearing her regular day clothes. Obviously someone had moved her to her sleeping quarters last night.

Gods, I hope i’ was Kory. Or M’yr. An’ not somebody else. Tha’ would be 'mbarrassin’. Or bad. But, ‘m not seein’ scorch-marks ‘round th’ doorway, an’ dun smell nothin’ burnt, so hopefully was okay?

She decided that she needed to make sure, just in case.

Tala scrambled passed the small furred-and-feathered pile nestled together on the bed – Fennec and Scouter had become fast friends, which was a little odd, considering gryphons were known to sometimes eat foxes in nature – over to the edge, and carefully hopped down. Literally. Because the bed was most definitely not lala-sized, and was easily half her height above the floor. Still, it was comfy enough, although she still wasn’t sure she wanted to know where X’dayn had found it, or how the retainer had managed to move it into the room by himself.

The reformed thief-turned-retainer was perhaps not fully reformed.But that was a problem for a different day.

She opened the door to the outer chamber, and was relieved to find the room undamaged. Someone had made sure to blow out the lanterns, and even straightened up her desk. A little worried, Tala checked to make sure the letter she had labored over was still there – and found an extra page sitting on top.

It was a drawing. Her sister had made a colored sketch to include with the letter. M’yrissa had always been a talented artist, though these days she rarely indulged, and at times seemed almost reluctant to reveal her ability.

It was perfect.

With a nod, she reached for a pen, and the inkwell, to add a quick note to the bottom of the letter.

P.S. Here is a small portrait of what I kind of look like. My little sister, M’yrissa, drew it.

After a few minutes, she collected the pages together, folded them securely, and reached for the sealing wax. Once the small bundle was secure, she reached for her link pearl, and tapped it to activate a link to a specific person.

“Ummm, hi Talin? Is Tala… can I ask ya fer a favor?” __________

A.N. -- Thank you to Talin, for permission to use her character in this work!

[izzy-b-hands]

Happy At Home-Part Two

Part Two, road trip stuff! 

Forgive that this probably isn’t one hundred percent historically accurate in terms of driving time-I’m literally plugging it into Google maps and just kinda going with it because I’m so bad at time estimates, and what I have been able to research about cars in the 40s and early 50s didn’t give me an exact way to estimate how long each leg would take. I’m tryin’ here, lol. This is what I get for being determined to finish a multipart fic at one in the morning. 

“Please get in the carrier?” Eugene asked hopefully. 

Queen stared at him, and he could swear it was really a glare. Gunner and Little Sid had gone into their carriers with some prompting, but she was being a damn diva about it. 

“Young lady, you listen to your father and get in there,” Snafu scolded as he passed them on his way to the front door, on his seemingly hundredth trip to put another box in the car. They were leaving a lot behind-the furniture, even the stuff they’d bought themselves, plus some little knick-knacks that it was just easier to leave behind. Yet they still had far too many boxes to cram into the car. As it was, there would be just enough room for the cat’s carriers and the litter box-the cats would be getting a bathroom break every two hours of driving, they’d decided. 

Queen licked a paw, and Eugene sighed. “Please, do it for me.” 

She looked back up at him. 

“I’d feel a lot less nervous about this move if you were my best girl and just went right into your carrier. I promise it’ll be worth it, if you’re good,” Eugene said, trying not to think about how he was essentially begging a maybe ten pound creature to listen to him. 

But it worked. She let out a dainty sigh, then trotted into the carrier and settled as he shut the door of it. 

“There’s my girl,” Eugene praised as he poked a finger through the wire door for her to sniff and lick. 

“I think that’s it,” Snafu said as he came back in, dragging snow in after him. “You and the kids ready?” 

Eugene nodded and grabbed his coat. “Ready as we’ll ever be.” 

“We’re gonna be okay,” Snafu said, moving to help him pull the wool coat on. “No matter what.” 

Eugene turned to him and kissed him as he took hold of his hands. His fingers were cold, but his lips were still warm. “I know. Just gonna take getting there and a while for me to shake this.” 

“You take all the time you need. I got you,” Snafu replied. “C’mon. Let’s get the babies in the car.” 

“They’re gonna hate this,” Eugene said as he picked up Queen’s carrier. “You ready to listen to that much yellin’ and hollerin’?” 

“They might surprise us,” Snafu said, grabbing Gunner and Little Sid’s carriers as he walked out the front door. “Give ‘em a chance.” 

Eugene turned off the lights, then stopped to look at the not quite empty, yet not as full as it had been apartment. It was strange, seeing it like that. Knowing they wouldn’t have another night on the couch together, falling asleep with books in their hands or staying up too late talking. Not having the same open window in their bedroom for Gunner to go in and out of as he prowled the neighborhood, only to return before the end of the night to curl up by their feet. No more finding little Sid and Queen asleep in the linen closet, always left open for them. 

“You can get the door, right? I already gave that asshole my key,” Snafu said, breaking the spell. 

“Yeah, I got it,” Eugene replied, and stepped out of the doorway to close and lock it while Queen meowed at the cold air. “You okay running the key down, or should I?” 

“Naw, I told him I’d be back down with yours,” Snafu said as he set Gunner’s carrier down to grab the key and shove it in his trouser pocket. He picked Gunner back up and started down to the landlord and the car, leaving Eugene with Queen and his thoughts. 

“Just another sort of adventure, right Queenie?” Eugene sighed. 

She meowed angrily as the wind picked up. 

“Fair enough. Rude of me to be askin’ you questions while you freeze. Let’s get you in the car,” he replied and went down to the car. 

Snafu was settling the other two in the car, fussing with the placement of the carriers while they yowled at him. “Your daddy just had to be right about you hating this, didn’t he? Just hush, we’ll be there before you know it, you’ll nap…fuck’s sake, I hope you’ll nap.” 

“The kids aren’t happy?” Eugene said as he passed Queen’s carrier to him. 

“Oh no, they’re thrilled. Singing a song about how much they love the car, can’t you hear it?” 

Eugene winced at a particularly piercing shriek from Little Sid. “I can. Lovely.” 

“Isn’t it just?” Snafu laughed as he got Queen settled in and shut the car door. “We’re gonna be serenaded until they fall asleep. If they fall asleep.” 

Eugene got in the passenger side-Snafu had agreed to drive for the first leg of the drive, ideally all the way from Annapolis to Richmond in Virginia. “They’ll sleep. That’s one of their favorite things. Just give them time to get used to the sound of the car, the bouncing. I mean, they’ll still hate this, but they’ll sleep at least.” 

Snafu shook his head as he got in, and started the car. “How about you? Gonna try and sleep?” 

“We’ve barely been awake,” Eugene replied. Granted, it had been a very busy morning of quick packing and buying what they didn’t have but needed, namely the cat carriers. “Besides, who’s gonna keep you awake?” 

Queen let out what could only be described as an angry scream, and Snafu pointed to the back seat. “That might do it.” 

They laughed as Snafu got them onto the road, but the pit from before was back in Eugene’s stomach. It was one thing to say they were doing this, but actually being in the car, driving away from what had been their home? That was a whole other game, and he wasn’t sure he knew the rules of it well enough to play it right. 

They stayed quiet as they drove-the cats were making enough noise for two cars, let alone just theirs. It was comforting, just watching Snafu as he drove. The little twitch of his jaw every now and again, and how he’d instantly toss his arm across Eugene if they had to make a sudden stop. The way he’d occasionally crack and roll his neck, yet never complaining that it was stiff. 

There was the rest of the state, plus entirely new ones to watch as they drove too. Different flora and fauna, neighborhoods and main streets with little shops unique to them, all passing them by. 

The two hours passed faster than he’d expected. They’d left a little after noon, then suddenly it was about 2:30, and they were pulling up to a gas station in Richmond. 

“Ugh,” Snafu grimaced as he got out of the car. “Gotta walk about for a bit before we keep goin’, or my legs are gonna waste away.” 

“Same,” Eugene admitted. It hadn’t been that horribly far, but his legs and back didn’t care about that. “Least the kids are finally quiet.” 

The cats had finally calmed. They didn’t look pleased, but they were quiet. 

“Yeah. I’ll let them out, probably one by one to see if they need their box. Don’t want them trying to run off,” Snafu said, opening the back door to lean in and take the cover off of the litter box. 

Eugene wandered while Snafu fussed with the cats, looking around at the surrounding buildings. He always wondered how things might have been different, if the train had stopped anywhere else. If they’d gotten off of it sooner, or tried to go back to Mobile or New Orleans together. He wouldn’t change any of what had happened for anything, but at the same time he couldn’t help but be curious. 

“We’re all cleaned up and fueled up. Ready to go when you are,” Snafu called from the car. 

“Really? No extra walking, or a bathroom break?” Eugene asked as he jogged back over. 

Snafu shrugged. “I’m okay. But if you need a minute-” 

Eugene shook his head. “Nah. Just-I don’t know.” 

“All up in that smart head of yours, overthinkin’ things?” 

He smiled. “Yeah. I guess so. Just thinkin’ how weird it is, driving through all these places. All these people living and going about their day. Wondering what it’d be like if we’d ended up here, or anywhere else.” 

Snafu nodded. “I think about that too, sometimes. Would we have found a decent place to live? Decent jobs? As it is, I still can’t get over them bein’ okay with us just up and going, never to return.” 

“Told them both it was a family thing. They understood,” Eugene replied. He’d taken over calling their jobs that morning, as soon as he knew their supervisors would be in. The library he’d been working at raised no issue and asked no extra questions about it once he’d mentioned family, and the mechanic that Snafu had worked for only asked kindly if everyone was going to be okay before wishing them the best and saying he’d miss Snafu around the shop. 

“Good idea. I mean, it technically is. Any idea what you might do once we get down there?” Snafu asked. “I’m thinkin’ I’ll just see if there isn’t another mechanic in need of help. Like workin’ with my hands like that, think I’d miss it if I did anything else.” 

“Not exactly. But since we don’t have to pay for the house or anything, kinda thought about school,” Eugene replied as he went to the driver’s side and got in. 

Snafu nodded and went to the passenger side. “Well, whatever you wanna do, I’ll help you get it however I can. I’m not much for studying, but I promise I’ll do my best to help, if that’s what you end up doin’.” 

“You could go back too, if you wanted,” Eugene said as he started the car and pulled them back onto the road. This next leg was a bit longer, three hours rather than two, taking them to Fayetteville, North Carolina. He just hoped the cats would be okay with the extra hour of driving. 

“Aw jeez,” Snafu sighed. “I mean…someone has to be bringing in some cash for food. I’ll let you go back and get your degree first, then we can worry about me.” 

“If you say so,” Eugene smiled. He suddenly had an image of Snafu in a pair of thick glasses, poring over a textbook. It was both incredibly goofy and wonderfully adorable, and if anything horribly inaccurate. The actual image of Snafu studying, he figured, was similar to watching him read. Usually with a look of slight concentration that just wrinkled his brow, with his shirt off if it was summer or a blanket over him in the winter, slouching on the couch or laying with his legs across Eugene’s lap. The sight always made Eugene lose his spot in whatever book he was reading. 

They settled into their comfortable silence as Eugene drove, and eventually he heard the sound of Snafu snoring. He’d been waiting for it-he knew he was more tired than he’d let on. They’d both taken their coats off midway on the way to Richmond, as it got warmer the further South they went, and now Snafu was using them both as a blanket. 

The trip felt longer when he was driving, and he couldn’t help but yawn as he pulled up to a gas station in Fayetteville a little after six o’clock. 

Snafu woke with a start as he turned the car off. “Sorry, sorry. I passed out on ya. Didn’t mean to.” 

Eugene shrugged. “Not a big deal. Not much to do if you aren’t driving, might as well sleep. I know I will. Speaking of-you really wanna keep going? We can probably find a motel room easy enough.” 

Snafu chewed at his bottom lip, then shook his head. “Bet they won’t want us to bring the cats in. And if they ask questions-” 

“Friends can go on road trips together,” Eugene said, but he couldn’t convince himself that Snafu was wrong. It was an added factor, wondering if they’d be questioned in any way or unable to find a spot to rest based on what people might figure out about them. They were being careful-no kisses, no hand-holding, even though it killed him not to do any of it. But you could never be too careful. 

“I’ll be okay,” Snafu said. “Tell you what, how about we go hour by hour for the night? Just pull over on the shoulder or wherever we can for a few minutes, then switch. We can both get a bit of sleep, but neither one of us has to drive too exhausted.” 

“I like that,” Eugene said as he got out of the car. “What say we hit the bathroom, then she’s all yours?” 

They made their break quick, then switched sides as they got back to the car. For a second at the front of the car, Eugene paused to grab Snafu’s hand and give a squeeze. He couldn’t bear not touching him in all the little ways they usually did. 

Back in the car, Snafu grabbed his hand and pressed a quick kiss to it before starting the car. “Ready for Augusta?” 

“Sure!” Eugene laughed. “Just another three and some hours away, right? Oh god-we aren’t driving anywhere for a week after this.” 

“Agreed,” Snafu smiled as he started the car and they headed out yet again. “Now get some sleep-you only got an hour, after all.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice, leaning back in the seat and using Snafu’s coat as a blanket. He had a feeling it would be a quick hour.

[dazaran]

title: caffeine smokescreen ship: tsujimura mizuki/higuchi ichiyou ( ft background KyoAya ) rating: G AO3 link: here!

day four of rarepair week - prompt : coffee / masks.

Every day before work, Tsujimura buys herself some coffee in a coffee shop on route to Ayatsuji Yukito’s detective agency. What she gets depends on her mood, as she’s deemed that different drinks taste better in certain situations. When she’s bummed out, it’s a latte; when she’s irritated, it’s black coffee with two creams; when she’s happy, it’s a caramel mocha with whipped cream on top.

When it’s just an average day, her coffee is a french vanilla coffee with a shot of caramel - which is what it is today, as she wants to wish and hope it will be a good day despite how her week has been going so far.

Ayatsuji-sensei had snuck out the house 3 times this week, disappeared on his own once on a case... And yet, the request to execute him was still somehow denied. Tsujimura wasn't sure if that meant he was just that important or that the world itself decided he was nigh impossible to kill. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

A sigh slips her lips after she receives her coffee from the barista, offering a polite bow of her head as she turns to leave the coffee shop. Before she can reach for the handle, it swings open, knocking it out of her hand and causing it to spill at her feet. The suddenness of it makes her jump back with a small shout, half relieved that none of it had spilled onto her new heels.

Crap, her fresh coffee...

“Oh, I'm so so sorry-” a feminine voice says just as Tsujimura kneels down to pick up the Styrofoam cup and its plastic lid.

“No, it's alright, I wasn't watching where I was-” Tsujimura lifts her head then, as she notices the stranger has also knelt down in front of her to help with a collection of napkins in hand.

And then, she freezes - as if the beautiful sky blue eyes that stare back at her have paralyzed her from head to toe, she forgets how to speak. It's a woman with blonde hair tied up in a bun, dressed in a form fitting suit much like her own. She doesn’t wear any gloves, and Tsujimura feels a sliver of disappointment she can’t feel how soft her hand is when they touch momentarily. There’s a clear coat of nail polish on the woman’s nails - they’re clean and well taken care of.

“I was...” What was she saying again?

“... Going?” the blonde woman finishes, tilting her head innocently.

“Y-Yes! That! I’m sorry,” Internally, Tsujimura chides herself for how foolish she sounds. “None of it spilled on you, I hope? It was freshly made...”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” the woman assures with a laugh as they both stand to their feet, rubbing at her neck. “Would it be alright if I bought you a new coffee? I feel a bit responsible for it, after all.”

“Eh? Are you certain? I mean it’s really alright-”

“Really, it’s okay! Actually, please let me. I’d feel awful if you were to start your day like this.”

She’s so beautiful and polite oh God-

Tsujimura quickly gathers herself, nodding with a gracious smile as she offers a hand to the woman. “Then, I suppose I’ll humbly accept your offer. Ah, my name is Tsujimura Mizuki... You are?”

The blonde woman smiles, accepting her hand and gripping it firmly. “Higuchi Ichiyou. It’s nice to meet you, Tsujimura-san.”

Tsujimura reaches the Ayatsuji Detective Office in a very obvious good mood to the point she’s glowing, and even Ayatsuji looks up from his newspaper when she walks in. Usually, this would be the part where she starts talking to him or he gives an order for his usual coffee, but the young woman instead immediately makes her way to the kitchen to start on her own accord. The detective tilts his head, folding his newspaper as he listens to the sound of cups clinking against the counter, water running, and most glaringly - Tsujimura was humming a tune while making his coffee.

It’s a strange situation when it’s Tsujimura of all people, who takes her job and it’s daily schedule very seriously. It’s enough to warrant the blonde to stand to his feet and make his way to the entrance of the kitchen where he leans against the door frame with his arms folded.

He says nothing, as if waiting for her to notice him, all the while studying her as she works the coffee machine. On the counter is a cup from the coffee shop she always visits before work, as it’s on the route she takes every so often. He leans just a little more to one side, noticing some writing on the side of the cup, as he can tell right away it’s certainly not her handwriting.

It’s a number, not her own. Someone else wrote it.

The rest of the puzzle is quickly put together, and soon the man makes his way across the kitchen to pick up the cup. Tsujimura doesn’t even notice until he starts to read off the name written there, “Higuchi Ichiyou, huh.”

Tsujimura reacts then, jumping a good inch into the air before spinning to face him. “S-Sensei! Don’t touch another’s things without permission!” she shouts, taking the cup out of his gloved hand and gripping it with both hands to cover the writing.

“Big words, coming from the woman in my house.” Ayatsuji counters flatly, unperturbed. “Congratulations on being courted.”

“I wasn’t...!”

“Weren’t you?”

Tsujimura’s face begins to heat, and quickly, she looks away. “I-If I was...” Was she? Is that why Higuchi had put her number on there? Well, she had asked to meet her for coffee again, but was that just as a friend or - Ahh, he wasn’t helping at all! “If I was, I - I mean -”

“As I said, congratulations. It’s high time you put some interest into something other than babysitting me.”

“I have other interests!”

“Excluding your fanaticism over spy memorabilia and being an amateur detective.”

... Other than that, she just had her ability to make good coffee, so naturally, Tsujimura has nothing to say to argue against him. Instead, she sighs, walking around him to head out the room. “Your coffee is on the counter, sensei.” she says, all the while holding her cup as if it's the most precious thing in the world.

Higuchi gives a stare down at her cellphone she’s clenching tightly in her hand, brows furrowed and lips puckered. She sighs, moving to tuck it back into her pocket, then seems to decide against doing so and paces around while holding it instead.

“Starin’ at the thing isn’t gonna make things go along any faster, Higuchi-san.”

Higuchi squeaks, turning her head to look at the person speaking to her - It’s Tachihara, giving her an innocent stare with his arms folded over his chest. “Tachihara... How long have you been watching?”

Tachihara waves a hand dismissively. “Long enough. Didja meet someone recently?” Though he doesn’t say it, the young man thinks that it’s probably a good thing she’s finally started to move on from her hyper-infatuation on Akutagawa of all people.

“Oh, well...” Higuchi blushes, busying herself by tucking some hair behind her ear. “Something... like that.”

Her company raises a brow, studying her curiously for a moment before he closes in and presses uncomfortably close to her face. Higuchi can’t help but lean back a bit, unsure of how to react. Just what was he doing...?

Tachihara eventually snaps his fingers, pointing a finger at her. “You made the first move, eh? That’s why you’re pacing around with your phone.”

“Is it that obvious...?!”

“A little,” the brunet grins pridefully and rests his hands on his hips. “The Black Lizard has worked with ya long enough to know how you act, Higuchi-san. Anyway, that’s pretty bold of ya! Who knew Higuchi Ichiyou had it in her to make the first move.”

“I am perfectly capable!” the blonde counters, offended.

Silence ensues. Tachihara stares at her, and something on his face seems to scream ‘then why didn’t you approach Akutagawa?’. She eventually looks away, clearing her throat in some attempt to regain her composure.

“Akutagawa-senpai... isn’t interested in me in that manner. I’ve known for a long time. Somewhere along the line, my feelings became more admiration than anything. We’re... better off that way.”

“Well... It’s good that ya realized it. We were starting to worry you were seriously fucked in the head or something, to like a rude ass like him.”

“Just because I’m not interested in him anymore doesn’t mean you should insult him like that.” Dedicated to a fault, as always.

“Ahh. Right, my bad.” Even though he says this, Tachihara still rolls his eyes briefly. “In any case, who’s the lucky person?”

Higuchi presses her phone to her chest, and Tachihara swears he sees stars in her eyes. “Tsujimura Mizuki-san... She's so awfully pretty, we knocked right into each other. I bought her a new coffee and wrote my number on the cup - was it too much? Do you think she dislikes it? Is she not interested in women? I never thought of that, a-ahhhh...!!”

Tachihara inches back, lifting a hand meekly to try and calm her down. (Geez, this lady thinks too much.) “Look, don't go overthinkin’ or anything. I'm sure if she wasn't, she would’ve made it obvious when you wrote on her cup.”

“Really?”

“... Uh. Yeah - probably? I mean I don't have any girl friends aside from you but y’know.”

Right, he doesn’t know Gin is a girl yet. Well, she’s just going to let that be for now -

Just when she wants to say something else, Higuchi’s phone rings, and she squeezes it so hard that it pops out of her hand. She squeaks, fumbling to catch it before it hits the ground and exhaling when it’s secure. There’s a brief nervous stare exchanged between them before the blonde woman struts off a few feet away, taking in a deep breath before answering the phone.

“This is Higuchi.”

Tachihara watches from afar in mild interest, arms crossed over his chest. Higuchi has always been an expressive one, now that he thinks about it. Though the worst actor he’s ever seen, her transparency can be pretty endearing when their lives aren’t on the line for once.

“Oh, yes! Of course! I would love that!” Happiness is nearly dripping off every word Higuchi speaks, a smile spreading across her face to the point it hurts. “This Sunday at 1 - at the same place? I'm looking forward to it, Tsujimura-san!”

After about another minute, Higuchi hangs up, and spins around to face her company with glittering eyes. “She asked me out for coffee! This is great, isn't it?!”

Tachihara laughs. “It sure is! I'm happy for ya, Higuchi-san.” he says, turning with a friendly wave. “Though, we both oughta get back to -”

His words are cut off when the young woman grips at his jacket, suddenly giving a pleading look. Oh, what now?

“Tachihara-san... I haven't been on a date before.”

“... Eh?”

Was this girl really going to be alright?

A high pitched, embarrassed whine slips Tsujimura’s lips as she sinks into the diner booth she’s sitting in, pressing both hands against her face. Across from her, Ayatsuji is casually cutting into a stack of fresh pancakes as if he doesn’t have a care in the world - or more accurately, he couldn’t even find the ability to care to begin with.

“I really did it... I really called and asked her out, ahhh...”

“Congratulations. You’re moving up in the world as a human being.”

Tsujimura lowers her hands onto the table, huffing at her teacher. She contemplates giving a snarky remark, but decides against it, instead wrapping her gloves hands around the coffee she had ordered. Her brows furrow, expression troubled. “Er... Sensei?”

Ayatsuji grunts in acknowledgment while chewing on his pancakes.

“Do you have any tips on going on a date? I - I’ve never been on one...” She’s a bit embarrassed to admit it, but during college, Tsujimura was the studious type. While she certainly had friends and went out every so often, no one had approached her about going on a date of all things. Her former reserved self had come back to haunt her after all, huh?

“Why are you asking me? You’ve read my file and have it memorized by heart.” Ayatsuji sets down his fork to pick up his own cup of coffee, taking a sip. He scrunches his nose, no doubt seeming to be dissatisfied with coffee that isn’t his assistant’s. “No family, no friends, no significant relationships to be had.”

“And - what about Kyogoku-san?”

Ayatsuji freezes after stabbing a piece of pancake. “... What we have would not be considered a normal relationship to someone like you.”

Tsujimura frowns. “Don't you love him?”

“Unfortunately. But equally so, I desire to kill him. That emotion is not fabricated, nor his desire to torment and agitate me. I love him, I cannot be without him, but we are destined to fight and go against each other be it out of our own stubbornness or occupation.” the blonde exhales, lifting his fork. “Such a thing is strenuous on the heart. If that sort of thing ever happens for you, I would suggest you run in the other direction. That is my advice to you. Other than that, merely do what you feel is right.”

“I-I see...”

He's cryptic and ominous as usual. Tsujimura exhales, lifting her cup to drink her coffee. Oh well - she doesn’t need to worry. That sort of thing won't happen with her and Higuchi, she's sure.

Sunday comes, and Tsujimura is an hour early completely out of anxiety and nervousness. She’s standing outside on the sidewalk under the forest green veranda, fixing her bangs while staring into her reflection of the cafe’s window. She’s not wearing her usual suit because it’s her day off, so she’s wearing a teal blouse to match the scarf around her neck and white dress pants. Her heels are pastel pink, to accent the subtle pink outlining the sleeves and neck of her shirt.

Is she overdressed? What if Higuchi didn’t like her sense of style? Urgh, she wishes that Ayatsuji was more help than telling her to do what she felt was right! She was second guessing absolutely everything in this moment! Maybe she should just call this whole thing off, apologize for being so selfish and -

“Tsujimura... san?”

Tsujimura’s racing thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice, and she pivots on a heel faster than she can even think. “Higuchi-san!”

Higuchi blinks owlishly, tilting her head to one side. She’s wearing a ruffled hem dress shirt that is wine red - it matches seamlessly with her eyes, Tsujimura thinks - with black capris and black heels. Her bangs are kept out of her face with endearingly child-like berets, plastic cherries attached to them. “Did I get the time wrong?”

She’s so cute - She’s so awfully cute, as if she’s the personification of sunshine -

“Tsujimura-san?”

“Oh! No no no!” the agent waves her hands, smiling nervously. “No, I actually wanted to be here early... I guess we had the same thing in mind.” Honestly, that makes her a little relieved when she thinks about it that way.

“It seems that way.” Higuchi gives a small smile, and soon lowers her gaze to the sidewalk while she tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Uhm, I’m sorry if I look strange... I’ve never been on a date before, so my little sister and a friend helped me with my wardrobe...”

Huh? She’s never been on a date either? Someone as pretty and polite as her?

Tsujimura is genuinely taken aback, but when Higuchi hesitantly lifts her gaze to meet the agent’s, she’s quick to react and grasp one of Higuchi’s hands and cover it with both of her own with a bit too much eagerness. “No, it’s alright! Very alright! I’ve actually never been on one either!”

“Eh? But you’re so beautiful, I would have thought...”

Then, silence. Both of them freeze up, blushing a vibrant red and avoiding each other’s gaze, yet neither of them pull away from where Tsujimura is still holding Higuchi’s hand. (She’s learned her lesson from before, so today, she’s not wearing her gloves. Higuchi’s hands are just as soft as she expected, warm to the touch.)

Not wanting to make things awkward, Tsujimura quickly pulls her hands away from Higuchi’s and begins to laugh nervously. “Uh - anyway...! So, coffee?”

“Oh - yes! Coffee, right...”

The two of then turn to head towards the entrance of the cafe. Tsujimura holds the door for Higuchi who bows her head in thanks, and the agent feels as if her heart is soaring past the clouds above as they both order their favorite coffee and find an unoccupied booth near a window.

They never even glance outside, completely swallowed by each other’s gaze as they talk.

Tsujimura doesn't know if there's a right way to be in love, but she knows that what she grows to feel for Higuchi is certainly that. Every time a date comes to an end, they're both eager to plan the next one together. She doesn't know if they’re going too fast as weeks, then months pass, but she can't deny the rapid beat of her heart and the way her face heats at the thought of being near Higuchi Ichiyou.

She wants to learn more about Higuchi - everything about her.

In the weeks that have passed, Tsujimura has learned a lot: Higuchi lives alone with a responsible little sister, and Higuchi is a businesswoman dealing in Yokohama’s shipping industry. When Higuchi is embarrassed, she turns her head away, then glances back at you through the curtain she's made of blonde hair. She's considerate, someone who loves to listen, and seems to forget to respond until you gesture for her to. She's everything Tsujimura didn't know she wanted in a person, and the agent didn't want to lose it.

Inexperienced as she is, she knows that she’s in love with Higuchi. That’s why the drive back to the blonde’s apartment to drop her off after their most recent date makes her so anxious, causing her hands to grip at her steering wheel a bit too tightly. She doesn’t want to seem any different than usual, as if she’s out of sorts or she didn’t enjoy their time together - because she did, she always does - but the thoughts on her mind are slowly but surely leaking out into her bodily expression.

“I didn’t know they had a museum for that sort of thing.” Higuchi says, breaking the silence between them. She turns to look at Tsujimura, smiling warmly. “You really like spy memorabilia, don’t you, Tsujimura?”

Tsujimura is glad she’s at a red light right now, because her instinctive response is to turn her head to face her company with a broad smile. “It was cool, wasn’t it?! I’ve always wanted to go see the North Korean spy ship Yokohama’s Coast Guard Museum has on display! Work keeps me so busy, but I convinced senpai to give me the day off so I could see it with you!” She freezes, realizing how emphatic her response was and looking back at the road with an embarrassed clear of her throat. “A-And my car is the same model as James Bond’s in a recent film...”

Higuchi covers her mouth with a giggle. “It’s not a bad thing - I’m just saying that I think it’s good you’re so passionate about something.”

“Ah... haha...” Tsujimura grips harder at the steering wheel as the light turns green, and she presses down on the gas to continue down the road. “You think so...?”

“I’m a bit envious, really. I don’t think I have any worthwhile hobbies outside of my work...”

“... Is that so...”

“Oh - but it doesn’t bother me. I like being able to help my coworkers and senpai. I like to be useful.”

Tsujimura understands the sentiment completely. The feeling of wanting to be useful to your superiors and show your skill to those you admire was something she beared as well, always doing her hardest to impress Ayatsuji, always doing her best so Sakaguchi-senpai would commend her efforts. She wonders who it is that Higuchi tries to impress...

Higuchi hadn’t said much about her job outside of the fact she had a senpai she admired, and her boss was an extremely strict yet seemingly innocent man. It didn’t give much insight into her life or what it was like, but learning such a thing when Tsujimura could not talk about her own private life either - Well, it’d be a hypocritical thing to do, so she never felt it would have been polite to ask.

When they finally get to Higuchi’s apartment complex, Tsujimura walks Higuchi up to her door. It’s late at night, and she’s a worrier. Higuchi luckily doesn’t mind, and seems to even enjoy the last few minutes spent together before she goes into her apartment.

“Tonight was really fun, Tsujimura.” Higuchi says when they reach her apartment door. She turns to face the agent, smiling politely, nervously. “Thank you... for inviting me out.”

She’s beautiful, really.

“Oh - it’s okay - t-thank you for agreeing to come with me...” I asked for the time off just for you, after all.

The blonde grabs the handle of her door and opens it. The smell of what Tsujimura assumes to be curry wafts into the hall, no doubt having been made by the younger sister Higuchi tells her about. She says nothing, staring at Higuchi’s back -

And before she knows it, she’s grabbing at the other woman’s wrist, pulling her back into the hallway.

“Eh - Tsujimura-sa-”

Higuchi can’t finish her words before she feels Tsujimura’s lips press against hers. They’re soft and warm, and she can feel a small chill against her lips when Tsujimura pulls away, no doubt from her lipgloss. Absolute shock finds its way onto Higuchi’s face, eyes blinking widely into Tsujimura’s burning red face.

“Ichiyou, I love you.” Despite the pounding of her heart, the redness of her face, and the nervous grip on Higuchi’s hand, she manages to say it without stumbling over her words. “I love you, so I... I want to be with you. Can I be with you, as your girlfriend?”

Ahhhh, she said it! She really said it - the ‘g’ word!

For a few agonizing seconds, there’s nothing but silence. Higuchi is still staring in shock, but soon, her expression relaxes into embarrassment - then, a smile so happy it’s as if the sun itself dulls in comparison. “I’ve been hoping for you to ask that, Mizuki... I want to be with you too.”

When the next day comes and she has to get ready for work, Tsujimura has to look at her cellphone to make sure the night before wasn’t a dream. When she sees Higuchi’s number - her name having been changed to ‘Ichiyou’ with a heart next to it - and a text message before bed saying ‘I love you’, her heart is fluttering all over again as she puts a familiar cherry barrette in her hair. It was real. It happened. She and Higuchi Ichiyou were really dating!!

She’s humming all the way to the coffee shop to buy her coffee, all the way to Ayatsuji’s office as she steps inside without even remembering to use her catchphrase at the door beforehand. Ayatsuji isn’t in his office this time, but the smell of lavender in the air is enough to give his presence away - he’s in the kitchen.

She sees Ayatsuji first with one leg crossed over the other and a teacup from his china cabinet. When she gets to the doorway, she notices an older man with grey hair wearing a tattered kimono, holding a matching cup in a gloved hand.

“Good morning, sensei! Kyogoku-san! It’s a great day today!”

“Ah, Tsujimura-kun. My report is already finished and on my desk.”

“Understood, I’ll proofread it and send it to Sakaguchi-senpai!”

And then, her head disappears out of the door. The sound of her heels against the wooden floor echoes as she goes into Ayatsuji’s office where her laptop is usually always sitting, waiting to be used.

Ayatsuji is silent, staring at the doorway. He arches a brow minutely, then sets his tea down with a scoff. “... She acknowledges your presence, but is too blinded by the stars in her eyes to actually realize the gravity of it. Honestly, that foolish girl.”

Kyogoku laughs heartily, smiling delicately over the rim of his tea. “Young ones in love are so endearing. To have the ability to put all your love and dedication into another person - that is what we call ‘hope for humanity’. Why, I certainly remember a time when you acted such a way towards me-”

“Be quiet. I can remember no such thing.”

“Well, we were both more carefree then. We don't have such a luxury anymore. That is the fate of any human, haha.”

The words make Ayatsuji fall into pensive silence, tracing the edge if his cup’s matching plate. He has a feeling - and his feelings are unfortunately accurate - that Tsujimura’s happiness may be given its fair share of hardship.

“In any case,” Kyogoku continues, quickly bored with the silence. “Her scarf is missing.”

“She's also wearing a childish barrette. Most likely from the woman she’s seeing. Couples do that nowadays - trading clothing and accessories.”

An amused hum ensues. “Shall I give you my scarf?”

“Choke yourself with it instead, fool.”

There’s a small bounce in Higuchi’s step as she walks through the office room, setting down a book full of files on a nearby desk. Phew... the last of the paperwork. It’s her least favorite thing about her job, but the rest of those she worked with were always out in the field, and she... Well, she knew she wasn’t suited for this job, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to work as hard as possible at it either.

She feels that maybe, just maybe, she’s gained some sudden enthusiasm for her work through Tsujimura’s love for her job, no matter how difficult.

At the thought, the blonde lifts a hand, touching the scarf around her neck with a smile. The warmth of the fabric makes her heart beat just a bit faster, feeling as if her girlfriend is right there next to her. (Girlfriend - she loves that word.) With a small giggle to herself, Higuchi leaves the room and begins to walk back the way she had came.

Further down the hall, there’s the familiar silhouette of Chuuya. His hands are in his pockets, and he gives out a bored yawn as the distance between them grows smaller and smaller. When they get within a few feet of each other, Chuuya stops, giving a raise of his brows at his coworker.

“Higuchi, that scarf you're wearing...”

Higuchi stops when her name is spoken, then lights up at the mention, pinching at the fabric of the item. “Oh! It's cute, isn't it? My girlfriend let me wear her favorite scarf, hehe~”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes! Well, as of last night... We thought it’d be fun to give each other one of our own accessories to celebrate today.”

Chuuya is oddly unresponsive, staring at her scarf. There's a strange seriousness in his gaze that makes Higuchi pause and tilt her head.

“Is there something wrong, Chuuya-san...?”

There's a moment of hesitation, as if the executive contemplates saying something, but he doesn't. Instead, he turns his head away. “... No. I was just thinking it's a high class brand. Just make sure you give it back in one piece - I’m happy for you, Higuchi.”

He walks off, but Higuchi can’t help but give a confused stare at his back.

Just what was the reason for that stare, she wonders...

It’s dark and the ground is wet with puddles from the evening rain. Overhead, the moon is shining down on the city of Yokohama, and the distant sound of traffic can be heard. Tsujimura sits in the shadows of some storage boxes at the port, feels comfort and at home in them, if only because she knows her ability is related to controlling shadows.

From the earpiece she’s wearing, Ango’s voice buzzes to life. “Tsujimura-kun, be careful. My subordinates just informed me some of the targets are coming in your director.”

Tsujimura grips tighter at the gun in her hand, shaking away her nerves. I’ll be alright, I’m an agent, after all. “Understood. What are your orders, senpai?”

It wasn’t often that Tsujimura was brought into the field in such a manner with Ango. Usually, she was doing her usual job, which was watching over Ayatsuji and making sure he was kept on a leash - however long it was, as he did whatever he wanted... It was fun being a detective’s assistant, but the work that came with following Ango’s orders in the dark had a certain thrill to it she both loved and feared.

She wanted to be an agent worth her salt and could hold her own against allies and enemies alike. This was her chance to prove herself - to Ango, and herself.

“Do not engage unless they notice you. This is their territory, after all.”

Yes. That’s right. This was the Port Mafia’s territory, the night was their time to shine like the moon in the sky overhead. Taking a step into the moonlight just out of reach in front of her was the same as asking for a death sentence, delivered by a rain of bullets that would make her body dance like a puppet on strings until she was nothing but a pile of flesh at their feet.

That’s what the Port Mafia is like, they are people who live in a world of blood and darkness.

Even to this day, years after having met that informant from the Port Mafia, she remembered how he smelt of blood - he was a true mafia, straight down to his brand name clothes. His red hair blending in with the sunset is still burned into her mind, and the words she said to him that day. If she could have even an ounce of that power and confidence, then surely...

The sound of footsteps nearing her pulls Tsujimura out of her thoughts. From the sound of it, they’re heels... A woman member of the Port Mafia?

There’s a moment of silence. The footsteps cease, too close for comfort. Tsujimura purses her lips, holding her breath while slowly but surely lifting her gun from where it was pointed down at the ground. Instinct tells her she’s already been found, they’re just trying to gain the element of surprise - she has no choice but to engage. With a final breathe, she jumps out of the shadows, arms lifting to point her gun in the direction of her hunter, and in turn she hears the same familiar click of a gun.

However, when their eyes meet, something in the depths of Tsujimura’s soul seems to shatter from the shock at the sight before her.

“... Eh...?”

A woman with blonde hair. Red eyes. Around her neck, there’s a familiar teal scarf. No no no, this can’t be happening - She hopes this is one hilarious prank, some nightmare from the depths of her heart, but when the woman speaks, there’s no denying who she is.

“Mizuki...”

“Ichi...you...”

The agent’s grip on her gun tightens to the point her knuckles are surely white underneath her gloves. It takes every inch of willpower in her body not to start shaking in front of Higuchi. She can’t show any weakness, not to... a Port Mafia...

The thought in itself makes her inhale sharply, painfully. “Ichiyou - why...?”

Higuchi seems equally stunned and speechless, only opening her mouth and closing it like a fish out of water.

Were you lying to me this entire time? Were you only getting close to me because of who I work for? We’re both liars. We were both wearing masks the entire time. How much of it was real?

Higuchi lowers her gun first, holding out her free hand. “Mizuki -”

Before she can finish her sentence, men from Tsujimura’s right yell out something incoherent, beginning to fire away using a machine gun in the agent's direction. Tsujimura quickly dodges, firing a few shots in their direction to send them hiding behind the nearest cover, the shadows directly behind her seeming to shudder to life.

“Mizuki! Wait!”

Tsujimura doesn’t listen. She blocks out the familiar voice saying her given name, pointing a gloved hand in the direction of her attackers. Special ability ----- “Yesterday’s Shadow Tag!”

Out the corner of her eye, some shadows move, fly past her and cause a gust of air that makes her ponytail sway. She doesn’t wait to watch, already spinning on her heels to run away. She hears the shouts of men shouting, more bullets, but none of them reach her as she disappears into the darkness.

She feels no comfort in the shadows this time when they consume her.

She feels no comfort in anything at all.

Tsujimura doesn’t sleep that night, nor does she remember much of it after meeting up again with Ango and his subordinates. It’s all a complete blur, her whole body felt numb to the point that words didn’t completely reach her. Ango seemed to tell something was off and told her just to forget about it and allow them to deal with the rest, so she just went home.

She went home to her empty apartment, and screamed at the top of her lungs into the nearest pillow on her bed. She cried, yelled, sobbed. There was no hand atop her head to comfort her, and it’s in times like then she wishes her mother was still alive to run her fingers through Tsujimura’s hair and give her the motherly advice she could so desperately need.

The advice she had actually been given by someone, it could be used now.

It weighs down on her mind the entire night that she barely sleeps, coming to Ayatsuji Yukito’s detective office a bit too early with the most depressing look on her face and bags under her eyes. She doesn’t even greet the detective when she enters the front door and takes a seat on the couch near his desk. She can feel Ayatsuji eyeing her from where he’s standing on the other side of the room, returning a book he had been reading.

His gaze is too heavy. She feels as if his eyes in itself are saying ‘I told you so, I warned you’ - so she breaks.

Her face falls into her hands and she sobs.

“Sensei... sometimes I wish you were wrong with your deductions.”

Ayatsuji does not answer. The only sound in the room is Tsujimura’s crying, which attractions the attention of his two cats that near her and jump onto the couch next to her. She doesn’t move her hands away from her face to pay attention to them, merely sniffling and crying into her hands.

Finally, she hears footsteps nearing her, and soon enough she can see the tips of Ayatsuji’s boots from where he’s standing before her. “Raise your head, Agent Tsujimura.”

The seriousness in his voice makes her wince, but the way he refers to her compels her to listen - as if not doing so would be denying her occupation as a special agent of the government. There are tear stains against her cheeks, and she’s sure that if she had found the energy to put on her make-up, it would be in absolute shambles. Ayatsuji kneels down in front of her, taking a handkerchief from the inside of his vest and pressing it against her cheek hard enough for her to get the message and take it into her hand herself.

“Calm down. Wipe your tears, blow your nose, then talk to me.”

Somehow... his indifference is calming. Tsujimura merely nods in silence, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief and blowing her nose loudly into the fabric. It takes her about a minute to clean herself up, and she takes a deep breath before speaking, “Ichiyou... is a member of the Port Mafia.” she says, voice cracking on the final word. “I- I don’t... What should I be feeling, sensei? I feel like I suddenly don’t know what to do, or if the past few months of us being together have meant really anything...”

“I can’t tell you how to feel. Quite the contrary, you’re already feeling what is appropriate for such a situation.” Ayatsuji answers coolly. “But, I doubt you’re the only one feeling this way right now. After all, both of you hid something from each other. An agent for the government and a member of the Port Mafia both have masks they’re required to wear. If you want my assessment, then I’ll give it - that woman was not under orders to be with you. Quite frankly, you and I hold no importance or significance to the Port Mafia. We hold the same significance a pebble would on the side of the road.”

He’s pessimistic as always, doesn’t mince his words, and attacks the heart of the matter from the very beginning. The layer of coolness that exudes from his voice settles on her skin, and somehow, it’s calming. It settles her heart just a bit.

“As for what to do... Well, you already know, deep down.”

If that sort of thing ever happens for you, I would suggest you run in the other direction.

... Is that what he’s trying to tell her? To run away? To let everything die away because of how things had changed, without speaking of it with Higuchi or saying a word to each other ever again? That hurt more than the idea of having to face the blonde woman face to face again. She couldn’t - she just couldn’t do it.

Her brows furrow slightly, thinking on their conversation months back, when she had just met the Port Mafia member in question. She remembers bringing up Kyogoku, how Ayatsuji had said that their relationship was not ‘normal’ - they loved each other, but they were enemies who fought to the death at every opportunity. It wasn’t normal because they were enemies...How was this any different?

“I...I’m not going to.”

Ayatsuji arches a brow. “Speak up, I can’t hear what you’re saying.”

“I said -” Tsujimura stands to her feet, curling both her hands into fists while gripping the handkerchief tightly. “I’m not going to run away! Even if it ended up like this, even if I’m scared to know the truth, I still love her! It doesn’t matter where she works! I want to protect her! I don’t want to take your advice - e-even if I admire you a lot!”

“Fool. That’s what you’re focusing on from my advice?”

“E-Eh?”

Ayatsuji crosses his arms over his chest. “I said ‘merely do what you feel is right’.”

Lavender eyes blink once, twice. It’s as if all the tension in her body has left suddenly. “What I feel is right...?”

“Yes. Right for you, not right as in what is the ‘just’ course of action.” the man scoffs, waving a gloved hand dismissively. “After all, someone like me has no right to talk about what is just or isn’t - but it’s completely my right to decide what I feel is best for me. For me, that is my exhausting relationship with Kyogoku. For you, whatever it is depends completely on your actions and choices.”

“Sensei...”

Ayatsuji gives the smallest of smiles, nodding towards the door. “You have something to be doing, don’t you?”

“But work...”

“I’m not going to be pulling a disappearing act any time soon. Just go.”

Tsujimura stares up at her teacher for a moment, then inhales to steel herself. With only a determined nod, she quickly makes her way out the front door.

In the distance, the sun is on the horizon. The night sky is slowly but surely being burned away by the rays of sunshine, leaving a distinct mix of red and lavender. Red, like Higuchi’s eyes. Lavender, like Tsujimura’s - hah, how picturesque such a comparison is. The thought makes the blonde laugh bitterly, painfully, while staring out across Yokohama bay. The Mafia had successfully driven off the government lackies attempting to interrupt their trade deal with some new allies overseas, but she wonders... At what cost?

“Yesterday’s Shadow Tag!”

She even used her ability against me... I didn’t even know she had one.

Higuchi unties the scarf around her neck, holding it out in front of her. Just looking at it and thinking of Tsujimura makes her want to start crying, but a voice from behind calling out to her is the only thing that keeps it at bay.

“Higuchi.”

Higuchi blinks away the stinging sensation in her eyes as she turns around, watching as her superior, Chuuya, approaches her.

“Chuuya-san... You’re here to check the supplies and report back to the boss, aren’t you?”

“I’ve got my subordinates working on the first part. Word from some of the lackies is that you froze up against an agent last night.”

Higuchi lowers her head to look down at her scarf, gripping it tightly. “Ah, that is...”

Her sentence goes absolutely nowhere, swallowed up by the waves in the background. Chuuya stares at her for a moment, then soon releases a heavy sigh. “That girl probably doesn’t hate you, Higuchi. She’s got a good heart - probably too good to be working for those rats in the government.”

The young woman blinks in surprise, gawking at Chuuya. “You knew-? How?”

Chuuya pulls a gloved hand out of a pocket to point at the scarf in her hand. “Some time ago, the boss had me as an informant for the government. The person waiting for me was that girl, and she was wearing that same scarf. It’s a rare brand ‘cause she’s got high class taste, so I wouldn’t forget it.”

Somehow, all of a sudden, Higuchi feels smaller. “You didn’t tell the boss despite knowing...?”

“That girl isn’t high up enough on the food chain to gain anything from. She’s not even suited for her job with a heart like that - a lot like you. But she stays anyway, stubborn as all hell.”

That is truly Tsujimura Mizuki in a nutshell, Higuchi thinks. She’s the most stubborn person in the world, empathetic, and always looking forward towards her goals. That was one of the many things she loved about her girlfriend... if she could still call the agent that, at least.

Chuuya shifts his weight onto a foot, then glances off to his left. He breathes out an amused scoff. “I’ve gotta get going and finish up, but I’ll leave you to tend to your business. I’ll only say this once, so don’t forget it: love who you love while you can. Who gives a shit if your lives are different as all hell? That’s what pulls people to each other.”

Well, that was a sudden, heartfelt piece of advice.

“I... Thank you, but where is that coming from...?”

The executive points. Higuchi’s eyes follow, and down the long, empty pier, she sees a familiar head of teal green hair running towards her.

Mizuki...?

“I’m off now. Take care, Higuchi. Give super spy my regards too.” Chuuya says, turning as he begins to walk off.

Higuchi doesn’t give him an answer, instead taking off into a run down the empty pier towards the agent. It feels as if it takes forever, but at the same time it’s so worth it when she and Tsujimura nearly tackle each other while hugging each other on the pier and stumble in the process. The agent has her in a vicegrip, and Higuchi has fingers twisted into the fabric of Tsujimura’s shirt. The two of them seem to relax in each other’s arms after a few moments, inhaling the remnants of each other’s perfume, then pulling away while holding onto the other’s hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you things about me because I’m a special agent.” I’m your enemy.

Higuchi shakes her head, tearing up with a smile. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too. I didn’t tell you things about me because I work for a criminal organization.” You're my enemy .

“Even so, I still love you.” Tsujimura brings Higuchi’s hand to her lips, kissing the blonde’s palm softly. “I love you, I want to know about the rest of you, no matter the cost... No matter what happens. I-I want to make this work, however dysfunctional, and be with you.”

The honesty in her words makes Higuchi tremble. She inhales, cupping Tsujimura’s face to bring her closer into a kiss - chaste, yet meaningful. Their noses are touching, both of them are smiling.

“It’s early. Come back home with me to my place to get some sleep. I want to tell you everything this time. Though it’s probably ugly... at the end of it all, I hope you’ll still love me, Mizuki.”

Tsujimura smiles. Higuchi still reminds her of sunshine - that’s how the agent knows that what she feels is love, that despite the differences in their lives, that love won’t change. “I know without a doubt in my mind I will, Ichiyou. My job isn't exactly normal either, so it might seem very funny to you... but I hope you'll love me all the same.”