#he's weirded out. he's insulted. he's amused. he's intrigued. he's amazed?

[ashrifts]

@deathfavor asked:

❛  i'm going to make sure nothing bad will ever happen to you again.  ❜ ( okay hear me out here but them pre-tenjiku )

in a world where the light of the law cannot reach the downslopes to drugs and death slithering in the shadows the haitani brothers have always called home, there's only two rules that will always ring true: you cannot trust anyone but yourself, and the only currency worth anything more than money was spilled blood with a name attached to it and a debt it neglected to repay.

at twelve, ran does not simply witness, but enforces this factㅤ───ㅤthe first pay is enough to get rindou brand new glasses, and they no longer have to sneak into the cinema theatre in between functions, and they spend hours arguing over which vending machine to drop their loose change in, and ran eats so many new desserts that rindou had panicked when he wouldn't wake up the day after. at thirteen, this becomes routine, and they become the kings of the world.

they never needed anyone else but each other; not the parents out of the polaroid pictures ran keeps in his pocket, not the bosses who believed them pawns in ran's own chessboard, not the fickleness of teaming up with people who would betray them when the opportunity arose.

this kid may be strong, but he is foolishㅤ───ㅤand the most foolish thing of all is the part of ran that wants to believe him.

ㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤthat's a tall promise.ㅤ’ㅤㅤand arrogant, too. ran grins.ㅤㅤ‘ㅤi can look after myself just fine. i have been looking after myself just fine a~ll this time. i don't need you to do it for me.ㅤ’

yet. yetㅤ───ㅤthere's a tight curl to his smile, almost a grimace, and a shadow over his eyes, almost resentment. he doesn't understand it now, but in five years, in seven, in seventeen, he will look back at this moment and realize he'd just been a child, even with the blood smeared on his hands, even with the ability to choose who lives and who dies with a smile on his face. he'd just been a child, and no one but his own little brother had looked out for him.

they never needed anyone else but each other, after allㅤ───ㅤbut what happens when one is gone? when the debt collector has an overdue debt of his own, and only death can pay it off? before meeting izana, ran had never thought of his past catching up to him, because he'd be strong enough to fend off anyone who came for his throne... but the person who had broken his dreams in the first place sits at his prison cell's bunk bed by him, with words so earnest, compassionate, it almost makes ran laugh to his face.

he doesn't. he stops smiling, and he looks at him in the eye, assessing.

ran does not believe in much, but he believes in izana's strength, and he believes in his ambition. he realizes, too, that izana would gain nothing from betraying them, that whatever he needed from them, he'd take if he truly wanted it, and no honeyed words would be necessary when his fists had already spoken convincingly enough. he didn't need to win ran over, not when ran had willingly chosen to follow him, even if izana saw his obedience as submission or cowardice. these words were honest, so ran allows him the same honesty in return.

ㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤthat's not something people can control. not even you.ㅤ’ㅤㅤhe tells him bluntly, but not unkindly. there's a foreign softness to him that smooths out the edges of his voice and warmths the indifference in his eyes as he tilts his head, closely, carefully observing the very first person he considered an equal. subordination is as new to him as it is to the rest of this vicious generation, and his own words feel oddly clumsy in his mouth in a way they never have before. he doesn't know if it's the unknown budding comradeship throwing off his game or something like wonder at someone wanting to protect him. he doesn't know how to rationalize it, so he does not know how to accept it... but it doesn't feel belittling. it feels... reassuring, and that in itself is a newer experience than being bested in a fight.ㅤㅤ‘ㅤwe'll look out for each other when you make our team, right? i watch your back, you watch mine, all that corny stuffㅤ───ㅤand in the case i bite the dust first... then you do your best to make sure nothing bad happens to rindou.ㅤ’

he allows his new grin to wash out the melancholy mood from the air, playfully holding up his pinky finger.

ㅤㅤㅤ‘ㅤhow's that for a promise?ㅤ’

[happybirthdayalex-lokilovesya]

Loki x Reader with hakanaki disease

So, I saw this [x] [x] post and after thinking for a moment, I concluded that no one should be sad about some quizzes being made poorly, ESPECIALLY when it’s their birthday! And so, I decided to write this little something for @amorathegamingkitsune​, hope you don’t mind... This might feel kind of rushed but that’s because I wanted to make it a birthday gift as well! So HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX, YOU’RE AMAZING AND I ADORE YOU!! Also a quick warning, I don’t have much experience writing hakanaki disease and it’s been a while since I last wrote about Loki, but I still tried my very best. Now, onto the story...

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You sat on the couch of your small apartment, wrapped up in a blanket and staring at the TV in front of you with sorrow in your eyes. Next to you, a box of tissues sat, under your legs was a trash can you used to dispose of the used ones, and all around you, it was possible to find flower petals. Funny, how you always liked roses when you were younger and now they would probably be the end of you...

Just as another episode of the show you were re-watching begun, you heard your from door swing opened and almost immediately slam shut. Immediately on high alert, you jumped up and after struggling to catch your balance for a moment, you managed to stumble towards the hallway, expecting to see a burglar or something. However, the moment you glanced inside your heart skipped a couple of beats and your eyes widened.

By your front door, stood a man you never thought you’d meet in person. He was tall, had long, black hair, beautiful green eyes, and was wearing very fancy clothes. There was no way of denying, it was definitely Loki. The man you never got to meet before, but loved so much that it could kill you. Your mind immediately filled with millions of questions, ‘Is this real?’, ‘What is he doing here?’, ‘How come he looks even better in person-’, but before you could ask any of them, he noticed you. He quickly put his finger to his lips, shushing you.

“They’re after me,” he whispered, and judging by the voices you’ve heard coming from the stairs you could assume that he was talking about a couple of Avengers.

You were too shocked to even answer, so you just watched as the God made his way further into your apartment. You stepped back, letting him into the living room and following him with your gaze. He stepped inside and looked around, ignoring the mess on your couch and paying more attention to how your interior was decorated. Especially to that one big poster of him that hanged on your wall. He shot you an amused look and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Your house looks decent,” he chuckled, but it seemed like he was actually impressed. You could feel new flowers form in your lungs, but tried to stop yourself from coughing them up in front of him. The last thing you needed is him getting disgusted with you.

“Uh, t-thank you, s-sir,” you blurted out, struggling to accept that he was actually there. Your reaction seemed to only amuse him more, since he walked over to you with a smirk.

“I am Loki, of Jotunheim,” he proudly introduced himself, holding out his hand for you to shake. You might’ve as well fainted right there and then.

“I-I’m [y/n], j-just a human-” you answered, barely managing to make the words leave your throat. You carefully took his hand and it dawned on you that he was really there. He chuckled, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, and stepped back, finally turning to see the mess of tissues and flowers on the couch.

“Had a rough date?” he assumed, looking at you with raised eyebrows. You could feel the flower petals scratching your throat already, but hoped that you’d soon get a chance to excuse yourself.

“N-no, I’m single actually...” you muttered quietly. This actually seemed to confuse him. He glanced between you and the couch, your nervousness seemingly making the flowers easier to choke on.

“Is that so? Why are there rose petals all around here, then?” he asked you, piercing you with those lovely eyes. You wanted to answer, but before any words left your mouth you went into a coughing fit, bending over and trying to cover your lips to stop him from seeing.

“S-sorry-” you managed to say between the coughs, just hoping that this would all end soon. When you finally stopped coughing and moved your hand away, you saw a fully bloomed flower. Oh, Gods, it was getting worse.

Ashamed, you stumbled over to the couch and set the flower down, instead grabbing the tissues and wiping your face. You were sure that now the love of your life simply thought you were disgusting and would never even bother to talk to you again. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he looked intrigued more than anything. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit concerned?

“What was that?” he asked with a frown. With a sigh, you threw the tissue into the trash.

“I-it’s called Hakanaki Disease,” you answered quietly. “I- I’ll be coughing up flowers until the one I love loves me back, o-or I die,” you explained briefly with a sad smile appearing on your face. You didn’t want to tell him that it was him you loved, you were sure that it’d make him feel weird and he’d most likely leave. And you wanted him to stay for as long as he could... Loki seemed to think for a moment.

“Is there a way to cure it? Maybe with magic...” he thought out loud, slightly moving his fingers and causing a green mist to appear around them. You quickly shook your head.

“No! I-if it gets fixed in any other way, I- I might never love again!” you cried out, terrified of the idea. Your sudden reaction seemed to surprise him. “S-sorry,” you muttered, covering your face. You felt as if there was no way your meeting could get worse.

“...Alright then,” he said after the initial shock disappeared. After that, he glanced around again, making you wonder what he was looking for. Wanting to change the subject, you decided to ask him.

“D-do you need anything? A drink? Something to eat?” you asked, just a tiny bit anxious. He seemed to like the idea of changing the subject as well.

“Hmm... a drink would be... appreciated,” he answered after humming in wonder for a bit. You quickly nodded and stumbled towards the kitchen.

“Alright, t-this way...” you instructed, hearing his footsteps behind you. 

You led him into the room and went to grab him a glass of water. You didn’t have any other drinks in your house, really. When you poured some of it into the fanciest glass you had and turned to hand it to him, you caught him staring at the small birthday cake standing on your table. Oh, yeah, that thing...

“I know some things about Midgard traditions... Whose birthday is it?” he asked you in wonder. You sighed.

“Well, mine. Except no one could make it this year... My friends aren’t interested in watching me choke to death on roses...” you laughed sadly. Your guest seemed to think for a moment before snapping his fingers, making the candles on the cake light up with green flames.

“...Happy birthday, then, [y/n],” he said, taking the glass of water from your hands and heading back to the living room, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

He had no idea how much that meant to you. With your eyes tearing up, you walked over to the cake and blew out the candles, making a silent wish. “I wish he’d love me...”. After the green flames disappeared, you felt more flowers in your lungs and couldn’t help but cough, yet you felt happier than ever. You never got to even talk to him before and now here he was, wishing you happy birthday. You didn’t care how much chuckling hurt, you couldn’t help but do it as your eyes filled to the brim with tears.

Only after some time, you joined him back in the living room, where he sat down on the other side of the couch that you were using before, as far as possible from the flowers. You couldn’t blame him, though, it was pretty disgusting in your opinion. He seemed to have just finished the water you gave him and set the glass on the floor. Without a word, you sat down next to him, too scared that you’d tear up if you tried to thank him.

“Hm... This could be your last birthday, right?” he asked you suddenly, wondering about something. With a sorrowful look on your face, you nodded.

“Most likely is... The flowers are getting bigger,” you sighed, pointing to the rose you coughed up during his arrival. He nodded, still thinking.

“Say, would you like to see Asgard before it’s over for you?” he offered suddenly. Your eyes lit up and you couldn’t believe what he was saying for a moment. Shyly, you nodded.

“T-that would be lovely...” you answered finally. He got off the couch and your excitement was bigger than ever... until he sat back down with an annoyed sigh.

“Ah, I forgot. My wonderful brother made sure I couldn’t return there...” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, screw him,” you muttered angrily before you could stop yourself. You couldn’t help it, you hardly ever managed to stay quiet whenever someone mentioned Thor. Truth be told, you hated his guts. Your reaction seemed to amuse Loki a bit.

“Not a fan of the almighty Thor?” he asked, leaning back in his seat with his eyebrows raised. You shook your head, figuring there was no reason to hide it.

“Not at all. I... I know a bit about how he treats you and... You deserve so much better than this... this arrogant meathead, this stupid, idle, conceited, insolent moron, this...” you kept going until you noticed Loki’s surprised expression. “...Am I going too far?” you asked nervously. After a moment of silence, the God just laughed, a truly amazing sound.

“Not at all, [y/n], not at all,” he assured you with a smile. “I find your insults... entertaining.”

“Oh, well then... I hope the rest of his life is just as pleasant as he is,” you finished your small rant. Loki just nodded in agreement.

“You’re quite an amusing Midgardian, [y/n]...” he muttered rather to himself than anybody else. Yet you took it as a big compliment, and just like with any other compliments, you didn’t know how to answer. “So, since you don’t seem to have any plans for today and Asgard is off the limits for now, would you like to go get some Midgardian food?” he offered eventually.

You just stared at him for a moment, taken off guard. Was he... was he offering to go out somewhere with you? Was he... actually interested in doing that? Despite you coughing up flowers and rambling about hating his brother and everything? Was this even real?

“T-that sounds great,” you nodded eagerly. He laughed at your excitement.

“Alright then. Sounds like the Avengers are gone already so let me just...” he muttered, snapping his fingers and immediately changing his fancy clothes to something more casual, a very pretty gray and green outfit. “I’m ready to go,” he grinned.

And so, it began. You left the house with him and went to get some food for your birthday while avoiding any members of the Avengers and casually talking. Going from one place to another took up most of your day and honestly, you couldn’t complain. Even if talking with him for hours wasn’t quite enough to cure you and you kept coughing up more flowers, he didn’t seem too bothered by it after some time and he seemed to open up to you more. You got to listen to him vent about his life in Asgard, about everything, and in return, he listened to you vent about how hard life with Hakanaki is. With, of course, some lighter conversations thrown in here and there.

Only at the very end of the day, he got somewhat quiet, making you assume that he was tired. And so, you went to the last place you were planning to visit that day, an ice cream parlor. There, you got all your favorite flavors and Loki settled on chocolate, and the two of you just sat down to talk. During the whole conversation, you had to cough up flowers only three or so times and if anyone stared at you, Loki would stare back at them and intimidate them into looking away, so it was all going great. In the end, when you were done eating and got up, so did Loki, ending up right in front of you. Immediately, you felt your cheeks heat up again.

“...[y/n], today was... quite pleasant. Thank you for spending it with me,” he said, smiling more shyly than ever before.

“Oh, no, thank you for coming here with me,” you answered. You couldn’t remember the last time you even got to go outside while coughing up flowers and thanks to him you did, and he made you feel somewhat normal again. Even if he didn’t love you, it was still something.

“I think I realized something today. ...Would you mind if I...” he said quietly and it seemed like he was blushing a bit? But before he bothered to finish, he already figured his own fillings out and made up his mind.

Before you could react, he put his hands on your shoulders and moved you closer to himself, tilting his head a bit and closing his eyes, only to finally pull you into a kiss. It was gentle, soft, and his lips still tasted like chocolate ice cream... might be your new favorite flavor now.

Your eyes widened at first, but your shock quickly disappeared when you kissed him back, not caring to wonder what was happening anymore, just enjoying him being here and the amazing feeling of relief washing over you. Slowly, you wrapped your hands around him and he did the same, only holding you closer and deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his face was almost red and you could feel your cheeks burning, but you couldn’t care less. You took a deep breath and, to your surprise, it was far deeper than any breath you took throughout the last months. So clear, so refreshing, so... the flowers were gone! You looked at Loki, at the love of your life, and you could feel tears building up in your eyes while you let out a tiny chuckle. You felt so light, so free, so alive...

“I’m going to assume you enjoyed it?” he grinned, trying to play it off cool but still not able to stop himself from blushing. He probably wondered if he wasn’t going too fast with everything... You nodded slightly, still enjoying the sweet, sweet feeling of being able to breathe.

“I-It was-” you tried to answer, “Y-you love me back, I- I won’t die!” you gasped eventually. He looked at you, surprised.

“...I’m the one you loved?” he asked you eventually, too shocked to keep his cool face anymore. 

You nodded, taking a step towards him and wrapping your hands around him, you pulled him into another kiss. If this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. Ever. You felt him smile against your lips and lean into the kiss more, clearly enjoying it as much as you did. With tears of relief rolling down your face, you didn’t want to ever let go. That was, until you’ve heard a weirdly familiar voice somewhere around, probably an Avenger or some other hero.

“Loki?!” they gasped, making you two pull away. The God just glanced at them before looking back at you.

“Happy Birthday, my Queen. Should we leave?” he asked, ignoring the enemy. With just a small nod of yours as an answer, he snapped his fingers and you were both gone. And so, your birthday wish ended up coming true...

[orihara-infobroker]

Seclusion Day Eight

“Izaya, what on earth…?” Shiki asked as he re-entered the apartment with an armful of packages.

Izaya practically bounded over the couch to take the packages from him. “Oooo packages. Exciting!” He replied as he carried them to the coffee table. 

“Did you go on an Amazon shopping spree?” 

“Maybe.” Izaya sorted through the packages, setting one larger box aside. “That should be your new laptop. I’ll set it up for you later.”

Shiki moved beside Izaya, sliding a hand in the pocket of the raven’s slacks to retrieve his pocket knife. “And the rest?”

Izaya grinned and grabbed one at random. “I’m not sure. I may have just added a bunch of stuff to my shopping cart. I don’t think this is everything, either.”

Shiki eyed the pile, arching a brow. “So impulsive.” He sat beside the raven, reaching for the boxed laptop and cutting it open as Izaya opened his first package. He pulled out several pairs of what looked to be underwear with a smirk. “You couldn’t run back to your place? Or do some laundry?” 

“These are the fun kind.” Izaya held up one pair to reveal how little there was to them. Shiki gave him a considering look.

“Model them?” 

Izaya smirked. “After I sort my mail.” He reached for another package as Shiki returned his focus to unboxing the laptop and various accessories that Izaya appeared to have ordered with it.

“This is a lot more than a laptop, Izaya.”

“If you’re going to work from home, you should have a proper set up for your office,” Izaya replied with a sniff. “You’ll see. Once I set it all up for you, you’ll appreciate it.” He emptied the next package onto the table, scattering an assortment of cat toys across it. 

“Ah yes, it wouldn’t be a proper shopping spree if you didn’t spoil your cat too.” Shiki set aside the laptop to sort through the toys, finding a box of silvervine sticks. As soon as he opened the package, Tsuki appeared from whatever spot he had found to hide in. Four days of roaming Shiki’s apartment had made him less skittish. Shiki held out the stick and Tsuki immediately began to lick at it and paw at the executive’s hand. Shiki relinquished it, watching Tsuki flop under the table and continue licking and chewing vigorously. 

Izaya had moved on to another box while he played with the cat, eyes lighting up as he pulled back the flaps. Shiki smiled at Izaya’s reaction, turning his gaze to the contents. “I thought these wouldn’t come in until next week.” He began to pull books out of the box, stacking them on the table. Shiki counted twelve by the time he was done.

“I think you have a problem.”

“I’ve seen your bookshelves. You can’t judge.”

“I don’t usually buy this many at once.”

“Usually?” Izaya accused him with a smirk. Shiki smirked back, shrugging. He examined the pile then immediately liberated one of the books, intrigued. 

“I didn’t know you liked historical fiction.” Izaya attempted to reclaim the book but Shiki held it away from the raven.

“It sounded interesting,” Izaya replied evasively. “I picked up Yokoyama’s new book.”

Shiki ignored Izaya’s obvious attempt at distracting him. “I suppose with your love of mythology, historical fiction wouldn’t be too far of a stretch. This one looks interesting. Set in Ireland? I don’t know much about Irish history…” 

Which was, of course, more than enough to get Izaya talking. “This series takes place very early in Irish history. It’s almost more mythology than history in some ways. The author really weaves together the Irish folk tales with their actual history. They talk about the faeries, like Celty, except in Irish mythology, they weren’t always called faeries. They were believed to be an entirely separate race of people called the Tuatha de Danaan… I might be mispronouncing it. Gaelic is weird. Did you know that we’ve all been pronouncing Celty’s name wrong?”

Shiki frowned. “What do you mean?” He didn’t like the idea that he had been mispronouncing the courier’s name all this time. That would be very rude and he would need to apologize the next time he met with her.

“Well in Gaelic the letter ‘c’ has a hard sound but we’ve all been saying it with an ‘s’ sound. I asked her about it and she told me that Shingen suggested it years ago since she couldn’t remember her own name. So because Shingen didn’t know how to pronounce it properly and Celty didn’t care, we’ve all been saying it with an ‘s’ instead of a ‘k’ sound.”

“I see. So Celty is fine with it being said that way?”

“Yes. She accepted the pronunciation as Shingen suggested it.”

Shiki gave a thoughtful hum, cracking open the book. “Will it be particularly difficult to read, then?”

“The first book in the series wasn’t bad. It’s an English writer so the only thing I’m not sure on is the Irish names sometimes.”

“Do you have the first book?”

“I might have brought it with me. If not I can go get it from the apartment.” 

Shiki handed back the book. “I’ll give it a try.” 

Izaya grinned. “I didn’t think you liked historical fiction, either.” 

Shiki smiled. “You didn’t know I liked watching cooking shows either.” 

Izaya wrinkled his nose in irritation as he turned back to the packages. “Always full of surprises.” Shiki chuckled and picked a random package, dropping it in Izaya’s lap. Izaya read the label then grinned and handed it back to Shiki. “This one is for you. Perfect outfits for our movie marathons.”

Shiki gave Izaya a suspicious look as he opened the package. Izaya checked the other packages, pulling out another similarly sized one and opening it as well. Shiki pulled out the orange and black fabric, revealing a tiger kigurumi. “Really?” He gave Izaya an unimpressed look.

Izaya pulled out a black cat kigurumi and held it up with a grin. “Give it a chance. They’re really comfy and you’ll look adorable…”

“Yes, because that’s what I aspire to. Looking adorable.”

“Pleeeeeease, Haruya?” Izaya pleaded and Shiki sighed.

“You’re such a kid.”

“Lots of adults wear kigurumi.”

“Sounds questionable.”

“Just once? For me?”

“Just once.” 

Izaya beamed at Shiki’s grudging acceptance. “Don’t worry, I got one for Akabaka too.” That brought a hint of a smirk to Shiki’s lips. With Izaya’s particular sense of humour, who knows what he might have picked out for Akabayashi. That alone made it worthwhile.

“You going to be wearing your new sexy underwear too?”

Izaya gave Shiki a smirk. “Of course.”

Later that evening, Izaya was curled up on Shiki’s lap, waiting for Akabayashi to join them. He hadn’t been bothered at all by Izaya’s declaration that they wear kigurumi for their movie watching. He’d just given Izaya an amused look and taken the package into the washroom to change. 

“I have to say I’m a bit disappointed in your choice, Izaya,” Akabayashi announced as he entered the living room in his lobster kigurumi. “First of all, it’s not a crab. Second of all, it’s kind of predictable. Not that I don’t like it but I was expecting something insulting like a pink unicorn.”

Shiki snorted at the sight of Akabayashi in a lobster kigurumi.

“Well, I couldn’t find a crab one.” Izaya sniffed disdainfully. “And the point of this was not to be insulting. It was for fun.”

Akabayashi grinned as he settled on the couch. “I thought your idea of fun was finding ways to insult people.”

“Not all the time.” Izaya pulled out his phone. “Selfie time!” Shiki groaned while Akabayashi leaned in. 

“I did not agree to pictures.” Shiki protested but Izaya was already snapping the photos. 

“That you agreed to this at all is amazing,” Akabayashi teased.

“He was very reluctant,” Izaya informed Akabayashi. “Now what movie are we on?”

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

5 times people got an insight into Freed and Laxus’ marriage and one time the whole guild did.

For @bluejaii, who sent me the sweetest ask and for @aceofheartsworld who always leaves the most heartwarming comments ! 

1. Gildarts

On the unique times that Gildarts is present in the guildhall, there are a few things he likes to do. The first being showering his amazing daughter with love and support, of course. Making good use of the guild's alcohol supply is second and his third favourite thing, involves bothering the shit out of the youngsters. Wendy and Romeo are easy to fool, eager to believe anything as long as it's said by an adult (Wendy more so than Romeo). Others are unbotherable (he doesn't know how to tease Erza without gravely insulting her, she ticks in a weird way.) Elfman is very easy to tease (How's your girlfriend doing?) and flustering Juvia is the simplest thing in the world. Now, one of Gildarts' favourite victims must be Laxus Dreyar himself.

The youngster has always been a bit (a lot) defensive when it comes to personal relationships and it's only gotten worse with the years. So of course, Gildarts has been asking the young man the same question every time he sees him : "You married yet?" It never fails to ruffle his feathers and Gildarts' always hides his laugh when the other man starts to look at anything but him before stomping off to God knows where.

Because Laxus probably relates Gildarts to feelings ranging from lowkey annoyance to highkey annoyance, the youngster tends to avoid him. So it comes as a complete surprise when Laxus enters the guildhall, lays eyes on Gildarts and smirks. His surprise gets even bigger when the young man takes a seat right in front of him and says : "Let's talk old man."

Although he's a little put off by Laxus seeking him out, he's not about to let that deter him from bothering the man. Leaning back, he plans to ask his usual question, absolutely sure of its effect until he studies Laxus carefully. He has his hand propped up under his chin and his smile gets smugger when Gildarts' eyes land on his ringfinger. His ringfinger adorned with an actual ring. A wedding ring. On Laxus' finger. After a minor mindimplosion, Gildarts opens his mouth to scream. Laxus stops him by slamming a menu card into his mouth.

"Listen, I'm here for one reason and reason only", Laxus states and glares at him with eyes that are very, very alike to Makarov's when he's displeased. Fucking genetics. "Okay, shoot."

"You had one wife that you liked, right? Cana's ma." He nods. "She was the love of my life. Why do you ask?” For a long time, Laxus stares at him and Gildarts wonders if the other is evaluating how genuine he is. Then, he crosses his arms and lowers his head unto them. "My partner is amazing", he blurts out and after that, he starts a three hour rant about why he loves his spouse.

-

2. Cana

"Laxus, drink with me!" she yells before plopping down annoyingly close next to him on the bench, invading his personal space just a little bit. She knows it doesn't bother Laxus at all, but it does bother his greenie and Cana has decided that she has the full right to pester him in every petty way possible. Scanning the area, she comes to the conclusion that Freed isn't around. Bummer.

"It's the good stuff", she winks and he gives her an amused huff before shaking his head. "No thanks, I'm good." Sticking out her tongue, she slaps his bicep. "Boo, where did your sense of adventure go? Your tongue for excellent beerrrr", she says while obnoxiously rolling her r's. "I think my husband wouldn't appreciate it too much, should I arrive at home drunk. I don't want to arrive home drunk either, because it makes my memory spotty and you best believe that I do not want to forget a single moment with my spouse."

Oh god. Laxus Dreyar isn't even drunk and he's already sappy. Looking at the clock, Laxus hums before ruffling her hair and standing up. "Dinnertime's rolling around and I'm not a lowly fucker, so I'm going to help my husband. You have fun, Cana." Watching his retreating back, Cana mutters : "Need me a freak like that."

-

3. Gajeel

On some subconscious level, Laxus still makes him feel a bit jittery. They've both been absolutely shitty, turned around and became less shitty. They have even regularly fought the same fights and Gajeel has teased the man quite a bit (as long as there were other people around). Doesn't mean that his body has forgotten what getting electrocuted felt like. So, one can understand that Gajeel felt an itty bitty nervous when Laxus stormed into the guildhall and then in his direction.

"Gajeel." His hope that the man was seeking out someone else leaps out of the window. "What", he snaps back and the other man's jaw tightens. "Your bookworm." Immediately, the protectiveness flares up, nervousness forgotten. "What about her?"

"She likes books."

What. How the fuck does this man's brain work? Looking at Laxus, who's running his hand through his hair and huffing in frustration, he decides to shut up until the guy finds his words. He doesn't seem to be that good at it. "You guys went to that book convention two towns over a few days ago. Did she think it was worth it?"

Laxus being the reading type? That's one that Gajeel did not see coming. Then it hits him like a freighttrain and he cackles. "Need a place to take your boyfriend to? Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

"My what? I don't have a boyfriend." Oops. Turns out he was too fast. "My bad, but seriously ask Freed out, he'll say yes. Not to overstep any boundaries or something, but you deserve happiness and shit. People tell me that a lot, so I thought I'd relay the message." The corner of Laxus' mouth turns up and Gajeel mentally pats himself on the back. God, he's good at this. He should start making motivational songs.

"Thanks, my husband tends to tell me that too." Then he leaves. The jackass.

-

4. Lucy and Natsu

It's a mystery. An enigma. A plotline more intriguing than anything she'd cooked up lately. What is this baffling conundrum Lucy has been trying to unravel? Laxus Dreyar's dating life.

Okay, maybe it isn't that big of a deal, but the man is surrounded by the prettiest people in the world (Mirajane, Cana, to name a few) and doesn't seem to be too interested in them (she can't relate). If she were less... cautious, she would've asked him about it by now, but alas, she's still a bit of a chicken sometimes. Sue her.

"Lucy, what are we doing?" Natsu flatly asks her. "Spying on Laxus", she whispers back and Natsu hums. "Understandable. Why?"

"Do you think anyone is interested in him?" she asks and wonders if the intricacies of romantic attraction even register in Natsu's head. His answer absolutely floors her. "Lucy, there's only two types of people who haven’t had a crush on Laxus once in their live and those are the ones that aren't into men. Or are too cowardly to admit it. Luckily for me, I'm neither of those."

"You had a crush on Laxus?" He rolls his eyes. "Keep up with the plan Luigi, of course, just like ninety percent of the guild. You've ever thought he's hot?" She admits: "Yeah, like once or twice."

"See Lucy, now you're getting what bi/pan solidarity is."

"Bonding over how hot Laxus is?"

"You might as well start calling it bi/pan/gay solidarity then", a new, terribly amused voice says above them and Lucy lets out an "Eep!" and hits her head against the table. Crawling from underneath it, she and Natsu come face to face with Freed Justine, who's looking both too entertained and smug.

Refusing to let go of her pastime, Lucy puts her hands on her hips and faces the captain. "What's Laxus' dating life like?" she demands to know and Freed shrugs. "I wouldn't know, he doesn't have one."

"Oh", she pouts and he chuckles. "If that's all, I'm gonna join the subject of your espionage." Right before he leaves, he looks over his shoulder and adds : "Since his dating life is nonexistent, you should ask him about his marriage."

-

5. Wendy

The flyer picturing the fair looks positively radiant and Wendy can nearly smell the candy apples and other sugared goods. It's a shame she won't be able to go though, because her team will be going on a mission and it's too far and dangerous for her to travel alone. A shadow alerts her of someone standing behind her and when she whirls around, she comes face to face (well more like face to chest) with Freed.

He too is staring at the poster and shyly she says. "It looks fun, doesn't it? If I were able to go, I'd take someone dear with me." Her voice must've sound a tad bit too longing, because he glances in her direction and asks : "Are you not able to go?" She shakes her head. "No, my team will be away and it's too far to go without adult supervision."

"I could go with you, if you do not mind my company, that is. Ah, I'll be taking someone dear to me along too, so you could invite Chelia if you wanted too." More often than not, she curses her face for revealing exactly what she's thinking, but right now, Wendy is over the moon. "Thank you mister Freed!" she yells before giving him a hug and speeding off. She's gonna have a blast with Chelia!

"Seems like our babysitters are tired", Chelia grins before shrugging. "Eh, at least we got candy out of it." As the two of them share their candy, Wendy looks at the scene in front of them. With an amount of skill that she certainly hadn't expected, Laxus is pinning Freed's hair up with a hairpin that he'd won a little while earlier. The light reflects off the pin and the rings adorning both men's fingers.

"Hey Wendy", Chelia says, laying her head on Wendy's shoulder. "When we're old like those two, let's be like that." Putting her hand on top of Chelia's and weaving their fingers together, Wendy nods sleepily. "Let's do that."

-

+1 Makarov or actually, + the whole guild

"Hey Gramps, you mind if we throw a guild party?" Well, aren't those words he thought he'd never hear out of his grandson's mouth. "You do whatever you want brat, as long as you can pay for it. What's the occassion?"

"Oh I got married."

"You what?"

(They get to hold the party and yes, Makarov cries over his grandsons. Both of them.)

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sides of a Hero

Chapter index ------- Chapter 9 

Chapter 10 - Pizza for four

Summary:  It started as a simple pizza party; how did it end with Virgil on the floor in pain?

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

Roman took a step out of his door and instantly sensed someone to his left and turned to see Virgil on the floor in front of his own door.

"Don't flip your lid, Princey." Virgil looked up at the concerned side. "I'm fine."

"Ha! You’re fine, and LeFou was straight."

Virgil reached a hand out for Roman to help him stand, and the prince happily obliged. "I can't duck out at the moment." "Oh, so you are just being normal for once." Roman smiled at Virgil; he looked weird without his hoodie and only natural dark rings under his eyes.

"As normal as I am ever going to get," shrugged Virgil.

"To be honest," Roman snapped his fingers and Virgil had his patchwork hoodie back on; hood on his head, pushing his bangs over his eyes. "I wouldn't want you any other way. Angst and all."

Virgil chuckled and couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He had thought that, after everything that had happened at the cliff, Roman would have avoided him; or at least treated him with caution. Instead, Roman actually seemed... Kinder. More accepting.

"OH. MY. GOODNESS." Patton's overly excited voice rang throughout the common area. Virgil glanced up to see Patton looking down the hall at him and Roman.

Logan came around the corner, "What is the problem, Patton?"

"I'mSoHappy! LookAtTHoseTwo! TheyAreSmiling!"

"I think we broke him," Roman looked at Virgil, as the two headed towards the still trembling and giggling Patton.

"Quick, insult me before he explodes... Or I throw up." Virgil sat at the table and pulled on his hood strings to conceal his face further.

"Ah, um, your face is insulting."

"That was the least creative insult I have ever heard from you," Logan commented. "Patton, you need to calm yourself before you pass out."

"I just feel like it's my birthday," Patton giggled. "So many wholesome moments today, AND I'VE GOT COOKIES!"

Logan rubbed his forehead and sighed; exasperated by Patton's over the top reaction. "I will never understand what goes through your mind, Patton."

 Virgil loosened his hoodie and adjusted it off his face as Logan placed two large pizzas onto the table. Food wasn't something the sides required to function, but it was a comforting action. Virgil only started eating meals in recent months; now he couldn't imagine existing without breaking up his days with a meal of some form. The positive to all the recent events was that he was getting to eat with the others. When the focus wasn't on him; the event was comforting.

.

.

.

"Looks like the full days rest did you some good, Virgil." Logan commented, finishing off a piece of pizza.

Virgil choked on his own pizza. "What!? Why did you let me sleep that long?" Virgil had considered that he had been asleep for an extended period, but hearing it was true was still a shock.

"You looked so cute. I didn't want to wake you"

"Clearly you required it. Waking you didn't seem necessary."

Virgil looked at Roman, "What's your excuse?"

"I only wake royalty," Roman grinned.

"Roman never had the opportunity to. He was in his room the whole time you were asleep." Roman groaned and looked at Logan, "Way to ruin my insult, Sher-not."

 “Were you alright, Roman?” Inquired Virgil. The other three looked at him in shock over his question; Virgil slumped down, suddenly very self-conscious. “I only asked because…you know…the cliff thing was intense and all, and then you had me well… you know.”

Patton noticed how uncomfortable Virgil appeared. He thought the side would fully retreat into his hoodie if it allowed him to do so. He decided the best way to help Virgil was to pull the attention away from him, and quickly.

“Was everything alright, Roman? You were still a little jumpy when you left.” Patton started distributing additional slices of pizza to each side. “What have you been crafting in the good ol’ imagination kingdom?”

 “Yes… well…. Erm.” Roman was suddenly feeling flustered. He hadn’t meant to stay away so long; it just happened that way. “I got a tad…distracted.”

“Understandable,” commented Logan. “That whole place is a distraction.”

“Your face is a distraction,” Roman huffed, before taking a bite of his pizza.

Patton sighed, and silently wished they could get through one discussion without making any insults. Virgil nibbled on his pizza and smiled at the exchange; their banter was always amusing.

“After doing, what is generally my usual post adventure routine, I roamed the castle maze.” Roman continued, wiping his hands on a conjured napkin. “I lost all sense of time I guess and ended up in a tower with the most amazing mirror.”

“Did you get lost in your own eyes for a while, Princy?” Virgil smirked, slowly coming back out from his hoodie.

“No. I’m not that vain “

“Indeed.” Logan interjected. “Vanity is still a free impulse. Though he does reside in the kingdom.”

“Wow. Thanks for that, Lo.” Virgil’s words were thick with sarcasm that Logan picked up on instantly.

Patton jumped in before any argument could start up. “So, what was so special about the mirror, Roman. I’m sure you looked great in it and all, but that isn’t anything new.”

 Roman sighed, “That was actually why I came back. The mirror… it…it could show me my true self.” He didn’t want to have this conversation with the whole group; especially with Virgil present. He wasn’t sure how the side would react, and he was still unsure about the events on the cliff.

Logan appeared intrigued; Patton’s eyes sparkled, and he mouthed ‘wow’ in awe; while Virgil snickered, “so you finally saw what I have to look at regularly.”

“I saw all of my fusions.” Roman’s words caused Virgil’s face to drop. “Even the ones I don’t remember fusing with.”

Logan put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. “Interesting. I wouldn’t have thought something like that would be possible.”

“That is so cool, Roman.” Patton was beaming, he couldn’t believe that Roman had gotten the opportunity to see his past selves. “Did you see Bravery? Imagination? I bet he had an amazing costume on.”

Roman gave Patton a small smile, “I did see them, but I didn’t get to talk to them.” Roman glanced sideways at Virgil, who was staring hard at his pizza crust; face void of expression. “Lust and Ego spoke with me though.”

“Really?” Logan adjusted his glasses and looked off in thought, “seems rather odd that those two would wish to communicate with you.”

Patton noticed Virgil wasn’t moving, his face was paler than normal, and his eyes were locked and unfocused. “Virgil? Are you ok?”

 Virgil wasn’t sure when he forgot to breathe. He only realised his lungs were screaming for air after Patton rested a cautious hand on his shoulder, and he took in a sudden gasping breath. Patton watched Virgil, concern gripping his throat.

“They knew I had…questions about what happened at the cliff, and they wanted to help.” Roman looked at Virgil, who was still transfixed by the pizza crust; ignoring the presence of Patton’s hand on his shoulder. “You knew Lust and Ego, didn’t you Virgil?”

The room was silent, except for Virgil’s rasped breath. Even Logan sat in silence to take in the reactions of the other sides; confused by Virgil’s intense reaction.

 Finally, Virgil nodded. “I knew them… We hung out in the past, but… they didn’t leave on the best of terms.” His head hung low as the words left his mouth. “Not with me, anyway.”

“That wasn’t what they implied,” Roman added. “Seemed like they still considered you a friend.”

“The great thing about true friends, is that they don’t hold grudges.” Patton gave Virgil’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “They are willing to forgive and move forward. Seems to me that Lust and Ego might be those kinds of friends.”

Silence filled the room.

 Roman continued, wanting to fill the void. “Well, they wanted to help me because I wasn’t feeling too good after what happened at the cliff. They told me I couldn’t sink out because I shouldn’t have been able to get to the cliff, due to it being a neutral space…and… and the reason I didn’t fight was…. Rage took that will away from Bravery...”

Virgil clenched his fists. Rage is getting out of control. First, he forced a fusion with Logan, and then he abused his relationship with Bravery. What is their end goal?

“Then there were the impulses at the cliff. They weren’t even all real. Just an illusion made by Deceit.”

“Well now that makes sense,” Logan piped up. “I knew it wasn’t possible for Thomas to have that many impulses still roaming free in the mindscape. But that still leaves me with one question… why? Why would Deceit and Rage go through so much effort?”

 Virgil looked down at his arms, trembling and aching from having his fists clenched so tight. “Because they want to get to me. They are messing with me.”

“Well that still doesn’t make sense?” Logan looked at Virgil in confusion. “What could possibly cause them to act in such an unnecessary manner?”

“It’s…”

“Envy.” Roman cut Virgil off, and Virgil’s head shot up to look at the creative side. “When I asked Lust why the others call Virgil ‘anxiety’, they said Envy was the reason.”

“No. That can’t be right.” Virgil shook his head, shaking away a memory before it had the chance to play in his mind.

“Lust said Envy was involved,” insisted Roman, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, jealousy would fuel anger and lies, right?”

Logan nodded in agreement, considering the natural relationship that would have existed between the three impulses. Patton’s hand slid from Virgil’s shoulder as the side stood up.

“Envy hasn’t got anything to do with this. Lust was wrong.”

“Why would Lust lie?” Roman stood to maintain eye contact with the other side, looking hard at his dark rimmed eyes. “Clearly there is more going on than you understand.”

“You don’t understand any of it!” Virgil snapped, “so don’t act like you know anything.”

 Virgil went to walk away but Roman wasn’t letting him run away this time. “Just wai…” He reached out to Virgil, grabbing him by his left forearm.  

Pain erupted up Virgil’s arm, it’s sudden intensity so unexpected that he cried out and found himself on his knees; tears pricking at his eyes instantly.

“What was that?” Logan stood and watched on as Patton jumped out of his seat and moved to Virgil’s side in an instant.

“I just. I-I-I’m sorry” Roman stuttered, fear and concern in his voice. He took a few unsteady steps back and stared at his trembling hands, confused and concerned about what he had done.

Virgil finally felt the pull of his room and wanted to return, but Patton’s presence in front of him made him stop. He leaned in close and whispered so only Virgil could hear. “I know you want to run, but please don’t leave me in the dark. Just this once… let me help you.”

Virgil’s body shook and he blink back the tears in his eyes.

Patton knelt in front of him, shielding him from Roman and Logan’s view; his eyes were closed, as if he was willing Virgil to listen to him. Why is he doing this? After everything I’ve said, he still wants to help me.

Virgil vanished, pulling Patton with him… he couldn’t leave the side begging on the ground like that.

 Roman and Logan were left alone in the common area; the creative side was feeling utterly crushed.

“I-I don’t know what happened. B-believe me, Logan. I only grabbed his arm.”

Logan nodded, “I believe there is more going on than we are able to comprehend at this time. Maybe Patton will be successful in gathering some additional information… If you would allow it, Roman, I would like to see this mirror you spoke about.”

Roman sighed and started walking towards the hall, “come on then. Can’t mess anything up doing that I guess.”

Logan reached a hand out to stop Roman in his tracks, moving to stand next to the creative side. “You can’t blame yourself for Virgil’s reaction. Jumping to conclusions has gotten us all in trouble lately. As much as it may seem that you have done something wrong, I am sure hindsight will prove otherwise. Focus on that for now.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

Logan adjusted his glasses and smirked at Roman, “so that is why you hate me.”

 ******************************************************************************************* 

Patton heard a splash and opened his eyes. He found himself laying on his back in a forest clearing; Virgil was nowhere in sight.

“Virgil?” He looked around at the forest, taking in the unfamiliar area. His voice echoed around slightly.

Patton stood and called out again “Are you here, Kiddo?”

He continued to look around when he noticed Virgil’s hoodie lying near the edge of a stream, fear gripping his chest. Patton rushed forward. “Virgil?!”

Virgil resurfaced from the water just as Patton reached the edge, panic filled the moral sides eyes.

“Virgil?! Are you ok? Let me help.”

“I’m fine, Pat. Are you alright?” Virgil started swimming towards the edge to meet Patton. “Sorry if I freaked you out.”

“I’m fine. But… but what is this place.” Patton looked around in awe.

“This is my territory. I know it isn’t the prettiest place, but it’s mine.”

 The forest light appeared darker than normal and more of the trees were being overrun by a dark rot. Virgil took it as a sign that Depression was holding more power over the area; an expected consequence of using the seals energy to escape the cliff edge. He regretted doing that now he knew the impulses were just one of Deceit’s tricks.

Patton sat cross-legged and looked around the area in awe. “This is amazing. So, you come and swim here all the time, like a little mermaid?”

“No. Not really. It’s just good for… healing.” Virgil began walking out of the water, showing off a purple ripped T-shirt and a black pair of shorts.

Patton’s eyes fell on Virgil’s left arm, as purple and blue bruising faded to a more casual grey around clear burn scars. He stood and walked right into the water to inspect Virgil’s arm.

“Virgil, how did this happen? Did Roman do that? Was it from the cliff? Did…”

Virgil pulled his arm out of Patton’s hands, shaking his head. “I did this to myself, Pat. All Roman did was reveal what I was trying to hide.”

“What is there to hide? If you were hurt, why didn’t you let us help?”

Virgil walked out of the water and conjured a blanket to sit on, and a towel for Patton and himself. “Like I said, I did this to myself. It isn’t your problem to worry about.”

Virgil sat down and pulled the towel around himself; Patton following behind.

“You might think that it isn’t our problem, but we’re friends, Virgil. We want to help and watch out for you.”

 Virgil shifted and looked out across the water, absently running his fingers over his scars; just barely feeling Lust and Ego’s marks now. The pain was dulling thanks to the water; it was a relief to be back in his territory and, although he was tired, he was happy to feel somewhat normal.

“Wanting to help doesn’t make it any easier. This isn’t simple stuff, Pat. You don’t deserve to be weighed down by my problems.”

“But we can help… look at when Roman and I were stuck in the past, longing for Thomas' ex. You, and Logan, helped us to move on. We wouldn’t have been able to do that on our own. If we didn’t share our problems, we never would have been able to move on…and Thomas would have suffered.”

“Yeah, but...”

“You can rebut my statements all you want, but it won’t change that fact that I want to help, Virgil. I know your instinct is to keep us out, but my instinct is to let you in. Can we meet in the middle? Just tell me what I need to know to make sure you are safe…. You did it with Roman at the cliff edge. I heard you do it with Logan. Can you do it with me?”

 Geez. This is a lot to take in. What do I even tell Patton? Where do I start?

Virgil pulled his arm out from the towel and looked down at his scars. Am I ready to remember this? Is Patton ready to hear this?

A breeze ran through the clearing, rustling the trees and whispering in Virgil’s ear, “ReMeMbEr.”

 “Ok, Pat. But…” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “You need to promise me something.”

“Anything, Kiddo. I’m all ears,” Patton cupped his hands around his ears and giggled.

“You can’t interrupt. Ok? No questions or puns…just, listen.”

Patton put his hands in his lap and took on a solemn tone, “I promise.”

“Shit, this feels weird. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Just start wherever feels right for you.”

Virgil took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his mind find the memories he had pushed away many times before.

 ******************************************************************************************* 

Virgil couldn’t remember his fusions. He always knew when he had fused with another impulse; he felt different and more powerful after every fusion. Normally he woke up in an area of the mindscape with a funny, powerful feeling and that was the end of it. One day though, he woke up different.

 Multiple impulses were hanging out around the enlarged stream, messing around and enjoying a Saturday night free of worries, concerns and mischief. They called this the 'Safe Space'. The territory, and room, were the only places were all the impulses felt safe. They could heal their injuries and conjure items will a lot less fuss and it became their unofficial home. Most of the impulses had other territories where they could do the same thing; only a handful of impulses were limited to only having power in the Safe Space. Hood and Jacket were two of those impulses. Everything was fine, until it wasn’t.

 Virgil couldn’t remember what happened next, and neither did any of the other impulses. All they knew was that a dark energy entered the territory and when they woke many impulses were gone, and the once nameless Jacket had a title. The impulses called it the Fusion Storm because they assumed there had been a mass fusion; but that was all that was known about it.

 After years of being nameless and using assigned nicknames, he finally had a title: Anxiety. He had no idea what it meant, but it was his. It was after that moment that he found his other nameless friend lying behind the waterfall.

 “Hood? You alright?” Anxiety shook his friends’ shoulder until his eyes slowly opened.

“Jacket? What happened?” Hood lent forward and rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t know what happened? But I found something… I found my title, Hood. I’m … I’m not nameless anymore,” Anxiety smiled awkwardly at his friend. “I’m Anxiety.”

Hood stared at Anxiety in shock, before smiling, “that’s great…Anxiety. I found my title too.”

Hood stood and Anxiety followed as he walked out into the clearing. “Well? What is it?"

"Depression."

 ******************************************************************************************* 

"Oh my gosh! So, Depression is real?"

Virgil frowned at Patton. "What happened to the promise?"

Patton covered his mouth and winced. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Virgil looked up at the blue sky; not a single cloud tarnished the blue canvas. If it wasn't for the dark trees at the edge of his vision, he could almost believe he was at the cliff edge.

"Ok," Patton said tentatively. "Depression is a real impulse... And he was your friend?"

"Yeah. For a long time, he was the only person who understood me. We both had no title. We were both shunned by the others. We were both bad for Thomas."

"Oh, now you know that isn't true." Virgil gave Patton a knowing look and the moral side heaved a heavy sigh. "Sorry. I guess it didn't feel like that back then. So, where is he now?"

Should have known Pat couldn't help himself. "He's...sealed away."

"Where? No, Why? What happened between you guys?"

So much for not asking questions. "Depression and I had different... views on what Thomas needed. I wanted to keep Thomas safe and make sure he knew of all the possible outcomes of a situation. Depression wanted... Well, he felt..." Virgil struggled to find the words to explain. "After the fusion storm, he changed. He was even sadder than normal and he... He thought Thomas needed to share in his sadness. Kept saying there was safety in sadness."

 ****************************************************************************************** 

"Don't you think you are being a little rough on Thomas? Life is scary but it's not that bad."

Anxiety stood behind Depression; watching the ghostly image of Thomas in bed fade. Depression had made him stay in bed for most of the day, ignoring the calls of his family to come out for breakfast and lunch.

"Nothing good is going to happen. It's not worth it."

"A-are you s-sure?"

"You're the one that is always talking about how bad Thomas is going to fail." Depression turned to look Anxiety in the eyes. "I'm just saving you some time. No shadows to deal with if we just do nothing."

 Anxiety fidgeted with his sleeves and rocked slightly on his feet. He hated having to deal with the shadows that formed in the room. The two impulses worked together to absorb them and keep them away from the others; a task that they kept completely secret. As far as any other impulse was concerned, the shadows came and went as they pleased.

"Yeah. I guess. But..."

"But what? You are always complaining about the shadows." Depression turned and walked towards the portal for the room. "I'm helping us AND Thomas. It's a win win."

"How do you know this is the right thing, though? It just... It doesn't feel right to me."

Anxiety followed Depression into the room and was met with two shadows; quickly engulfing him.

 "You are stressing yourself out, Anxiety," laughed Depression. "This is perfectly fine, and you know it. If it was wrong, then why is the room accepting me more and more? I think I'm becoming a core side, and you are too."

Anxiety curled up on a nearby lounge, "I am not a core side."

"Then who is that secret room for?" Depression folded his arms and looked at his friend.

"I don't know what you are talking about," grumbled Anxiety.

Depression pointed at one of the cupboards. "The room hidden in there. Don't try and hide it old friend, I know you can feel it too. You know it is there."

Anxiety looked away; Depression moved closer and lent over the huddled impulse.

"Trust me, Anxiety. This is the way it is meant to be. I'll be a core side, soon enough. Those other sides won't know what hit 'em. We'll have full control and Thomas will be the way we want him to be. Inside. Safe. Forever."

  ******************************************************************************************* 

"Well that wouldn't have been fair." Patton was talking out loud without even realising; looking out into the distance. "If Thomas just stayed inside, he would never have become the performer he is today."

Virgil sighed, "I know. As much as I wanted Thomas to stick to familiar places, I knew he couldn't always do that. He had things to do."

"So, you told Depression that, right?"

"I tried." Virgil looked down at his hands. "Depression was... Set in his thinking and I wasn't... Strong enough to stand up to him alone."

"Why didn't you tell us about it? I mean, Logan and I were around at that time, right? Was Roman a core side when this happened?"

A laugh escaped Virgil's lips and Patton looked at him in shock. "Honestly, Pats, would any of you have listened to me if I popped into your territories?" Patton opened his mouth to respond before closing it again. As much as it pained him to admit it, Virgil had a point. The sides never would have taken him seriously back then; the other two didn't even take him seriously after Virgil initially became a core side.

"Your silence speaks volumes."

 The wind blew through the clearing again and Virgil felt...relief. He watched as the darkness on one of the trees slowly receded.

Well that is weird. Is this what you wanted me to do?

Virgil didn't expect an answer to his question. Despite his nervousness about talking to Patton, the area was responding in a positive way and he was feeling good; in a rather strange way.  

Standing, Virgil grabbed his hoodie and slipped it back on. Patton sat and watched in silence; unsure of what to say next.

Chapter index ---------------- next chapter 

[mediocreronpas]

Izuru, Kiibo, Junko, Korekiyo, Hoshi, Tanaka, Ouma, and Angie with a cuckoolander/SHSL Fantasy Writer S/O

These two were so similar that I decided to combine them, hope you don’t mind.

- Mod Teruteru

Izuru Kamukura

- He feels like you should be less interesting.

- But you kind of aren’t.

- The way you kind of just wander around aimlessly for hours is amusing.

- How you can turn a trip to the mall into an amazing and well detailed fantasy story is a skill that you have that he thinks is cute.

- You start yelling the introduction when you open your front door and search for a piece of paper.

- He would read your stories and piece together what outings they were.

- A story about picking up a queen and king to take them to a safe house when them and their kingdom was being attacked… that time Sonia and Gundam had to get their house gassed due to termites and you let them stay here for the week.

- One about a wood elf and a drow elf being forced to judge an eating contest between two trolls by the human chef the trolls captured to make the food… When Akane and Twogami had an eating competition at Teruteru’s house and Hanamura forced you and Izuru to stay in case something bad happened.

- Keeping you out of trouble while you were in a floaty state was something else he did.

- He basically kept you from doing anything weird.

- Not that you knew what you were doing.

Kiibo

- He’s so confused by you.

- How could you not know any kind of human standards when you started living in the human world from the very beginning?

- He doesn’t know why you think magic exists either.

- There’s been plenty of scientific studies from thousands of years ago that proved magic to be non-existent.

- He’s shown them to you

- But no.

- The chocolate you get in your basket every year is from a rabbit, and the gifts you get that aren’t labeled from anyone is from santa.

- He does like it when you write stories with someone you say was inspired by him.

- Like a steampunk robot boy and his faithful teenage inventor.

- Or an ancient stone guardian in the shape of a teenage boy.

- When doing things weird, Kiibo doesn’t know when to stop you.

- Usually it’s too late.

- But he enjoys learning about regular human life with you.

- So that’s a perk.

Junko Enoshima

- She loves how you just kind of float around the halls.

- You’re never really sure what your next class is, and neither is anyone else.

- Especially since you call them things like scrolling and training.

- You light up when Junko knows that the things you are talking about are english and gym.

- When you walk on the street together you spout descriptions about them as if they were stone roads filled with peasant owned stalls. Then you looked at Junko and described a beautiful pink haired queen being forced to walk the peasants road because her horse carriage was in the shop.

- Then Junko would tap into her queen persona and yell “Bow down peasants! Your queen has graced you with her presents!”

- You love it when she changes personalities, by the way.

- You’ll play along with whatever she pulls with full enthusiasm.

- Even if you both get in trouble.

- Which is an aspect she loves.

Korekiyo Shinguji

- He finds you extremely interesting.

- The way he met you was the first interesting thing.

- You were just sitting in an empty classroom all by yourself, staring at the ceiling.

- He kind of just sat at the opening of the door until he decided to approach you.

- And when he did you snapped out of your little trance and scooted backwards a bit so your back touched the wall.

- “After his long winded observation, the onyx haired vampire decided it was time to introduce himself.”

- Shinguji put a finger to his mask covered mouth.

- “Oh? Am I the onyx haired vampire?”

- “His stance was fierce yet sophisticated. Though it intimidated the elf a bit, it also intrigued them.”

- You stood and looked him in the eye.

- “‘They got up from their resting spot to make themselves look more dangerous.’ My name is F/N L/N. I am a lythari in search for the Glass of the Forgotten. Have you seen it in this area by any chance?”

- You were kind of confusing him, then he realized.

- “You mean this pair of glasses I found in the other room?”

- As soon as your sharp eyes met with the glasses, they became soft and friendly. You had come out of your magical adventure status and into your regular head in the clouds one.

- “Hmm? Can I have those please? A friend of mine lost them. I can’t remember which though…”

- Since your first meeting, you had kept hanging around Shinguji, in search of things that you could turn into fantastical stories.

- This just gave Korekiyo all the more reason to study you and your ‘magical’ antics.

Ryoma Hoshi

- He is constantly pulling you from possible embarrassing situations.

- A lot of face palms are in order.

- You even wrote a book with the two of you as inspired characters.

- “The most deadly sin of all.”

- It’s about a reckless satyr and their intelligent gnome partner in search of the demons of the seven deadly sins, Greed (Togami), Wrath (Nidai), Gluttony (Akane), Lust (Teruteru), Envy (Hajime), Sloth (Himiko), and Pride (Ouma). So they can defeat them, collect the relics they hold and summon the devil king so they can kill them once and for all.

- It’s already a bestseller.

- So much so that you and Hoshi get recognized on the streets and complimented on for the general descriptions of the characters and the lovable arc the gnome goes through as he tries to get over his past as a criminal so he can get closer to the satyr.

- Whenever this happens your imagination explodes and Hoshi has to stop you from yelling some sort of line you would write in a book.

- You love calling Hoshi’s tennis matches battles.

- He sometimes wishes that he was up there to stop you from yelling stuff like, “Go Hoshi! Smite the beast right through the heart!”

- But he appreciates the enthusiasm.

Gundam Tanaka

- At first he thought you were just playing along with his act.

- Then he noticed how you were doing it all the time.

- You always stayed in a floaty state of mind until Gundam went into character.

- Then you became somewhat of a supervillain with a super intense voice.

- You were kind of like, all of what Gundam wanted to be when he was younger.

- You once sang a rock version of “You’re Welcome” from Moana to him while pretending to be a demi god.

- He absolutely loves the things you’re willing to do to prove that you were magic.

- Wait are those his deer?

- Whenever you weren’t in your state of magic and adventures, you barely knew what was going on.

- You’ll just switch from badass relentless supervillain to a little soft rabbit who was dropped off in the middle of who knows where.

- Whenever this happened, you would walk over to Gundam and quietly ask him what you need to do.

- Gundam gets fuzzy feelings when he thinks about this part of your personality.

- But for some reason when he thinks of your villain persona, he feels like he’s getting a burst of adrenaline.

- He can’t decide which one is better.

- So he asks you what you think.

- “‘The high elf scratched their head in confusion. They didn’t really know how to answer this.’ Well how about, ‘They said in a low voice. ‘You love both sides equally instead trying to like one half of a person better than the other.’”

- Gundam thought on this for a bit, then he laughed.

- “You are correct as always S/O. It was foolish of me to ask such a question.”

- Then you went back to your fluffy state.

- “Mm, I don’t know. It was just something I came up with on the spot. You don’t have to take it seriously.”

- Then Gundam laughed some more and caressed your face.

- “Its okay. You’re right. I should love all of you. Not just some of you.”

- “Thank you.”

Kokichi Ouma

- You started off as rivals.

- In your eyes, you began your meeting with him with a duel. He had insulted your mechanical friend and you wanted revenge.

- You constantly referred to him as a black hearted halfling who used his magic to lie and manipulate people.

- While he called you a delusional asylum escapee.

- When he tries to mess with you, you tend to have your head in the clouds and unknowingly ignore him.

- When you do this he starts whining loudly.

- When he did this the first time you snapped out of your trance and glared at him.

- “The mighty high elf angrily stared at her rival for interrupting their peaceful visit to their mind palace. ‘You’re lucky I don’t blink you to the Ethereal Plane.’ They growled. ‘For what reason do you have for interrupting me?’”

- Then Ouma blinked at you and smiled.

- “I was just trying to save you from your own insanity. One more minute inside your own head and you would have gone bananas for real!”

- You continued glaring at him.

- “Or maybe not. Who knows, I am a liar after all.”

- You laughed.

- “‘The opinion of my sanity is my decision and my decision alone.’ Then the high elf smiled. ‘There’s no room for any opinion even close to one made by a shorty like you.’”

- But you both learned to settle your differences.

- You stopped calling each other names. You agreed to stop making fun of Ouma’s height as long as Ouma stopped teasing your soft kitten like side.

- And whenever you went to your soft side, he...sometimes lets you know what’s going on.

- Not always.

- I want to make that clear.

- You would always cross your arms and make a cute huff when he didn’t

- Which is why he didn’t often.

Angie Yonaga

- She always finds your strange mannerisms as a blessing from Atua.

- Whenever you began spouting whatever about two pixies traveling the world together, she would out her hands together and says two or three words in a language you don’t know to thank him.

- She loves and triggers your soft side a lot.

- “Uhh, Agnie, can you please help me write my next book. My fans are getting antsy.”

- “Okay S/O! Do you want to pray with me? Atua may have some good ideas he wants to share!”

- “Ah, okay.”

- Then you and Angie would get into a prayer session.

- Thanks to Angie’s prayers, you have written plenty of amazing books.

- But this was mostly because some of these prayer sessions can last for a long while. And when they end you’ll just sit down and write mindlessly then publish a book without really knowing what it was about.

- As long as Angie had helped you, you thought it was a good book.

- Which she found really cute.

[tweenw]

Fair-(Peter Hale)

Characters: OC, Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Liam Dunbar, Malia Tate, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Peter Hale and (Y/N)

Pairing: Peter Hale x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Derek Hale, Allison Argent x Isaac Lahey

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 1865

Summary: The pack don’t believe that Peter could possibly have a girlfriend, let alone be engaged, until said girlfriend crashes the pack meeting.

(A/N) wooo there’s some Sterek throughout this too, couldn’t help myself :)))

(Third P.O.V)

He was in the corner of the room, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even care about what Derek’s little pose was saying. He didn’t care about that cute new girl Stiles spoke of, or the new shoes the banshee bought, or even Derek’s new romance with the annoying Stiles. What he did care about was the woman on her way to brighten his day. His fianceé and partner since high school, (Y/N).

“It would help if grumpzilla over there actually paid attention once in a while.” Stiles pokes fun at the man in deep thought. Over the years, Peter and Stiles have developed an odd relationship. Peter tried to kill him, and offer him the bite, and they became unlikely allies, and then the boy started dating his nephew. So Stiles’s goofy remarks were normal. 

“Leave him be he’s useless right now, he’s trying to plan the next week or so in his head.” Derek chimes in from his position on the sofa, the book long forgotten.

Scott raises his eyebrows at Derek, prompting him to elaborate.

“(Y/N) is on her way, Peter’s  fianceé.” Derek mutters before returning back to his book, leaving his uncle to deal with the packs questions.

The entire group bursts into confused chatter and questions are fired at Peter. 

The poor man shifts in his seat and shoots the pack an annoyed look. “Why are you all so surprised that I have a fianceé?” 

Stiles eyes him up, as if trying to hint at why it’s so unbelievable. 

“Well, you’re manipulative, annoying, psychotic, devious, malevolent, aggravating, irritating, vexatious. Should I keep going? Because there’s about another hundred or so words to describe you with.” Stiles counts on his fingers as he throws insults at Peter, knowing he wouldn’t attack the teenager just because of Derek. 

In the corner of the room, Derek lowers his book to watch the exchange in amusement. 

“I never thought I’d ever agree with Stiles, but the boy’s right. It is hard to believe.” Isaac chimes in, brows furrowed. 

Peter rolls his eyes and glances down at his watch. Just a few more minutes now.

“What's her name anyway?” Lydia asks, her head cocked to the side. If there was anyone even mildly excited to meet another girl, then it would be her. Though if said girl is anything like Peter then she wouldn’t be too keen.

“(Y/N).” A small smile appears on Peters face just at the mere mention of the woman who holds his heart in the palm of her hand.

Scott raises his eyebrows, now intrigued. 

“Is she like us? Does she know?” Scott asks. She could potentially be a new member of the pack.

“No, she’s human, but she knows about everything. Probably more than you.” 

This manages to grab the groups attention. Firstly, why would someone like Peter Hale be dating an ordinary human? A normal girl with nothing supernatural about her? But then again Derek is dating Stiles, who’s also human. And secondly, who is she? Is she an emissary? Who would voluntarily be with Peter Hale?

“So she’s like, willingly with you? No magic voodoo mojo shit?” Stiles questions, still in disbelief. How can someone like Peter land a girl?

Derek lets out an amused chuckle at this.

The ears of the werewolves pick up a noise far off in the building, the clicking of heels on the cement floor. 

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

I wipe my clammy hands on my blue dress and take a deep breath. Butterflies fill my stomach the closer I get to Derek’s apartment, knowing that Peter is the closest he’s been in the last few months.

Peter and I have been engaged for almost a year now, but due to my job I’ve been all over the place travelling. But now I took some time off and I couldn’t be more excited to get the wedding planning started. Derek will no doubt want to help, he’s got an artistic spark in him. And his boyfriend will probably have to keep the guy in check so he doesn’t go over the top.

I don’t waste any more time and open the door to Derek’s ‘house’ and walk in. My eyes scan the room full of surprised teenagers until they land on the man I was looking for. 

The duffel bags fall onto the ground as I ignore the high heels and break into a run and jump right into Peter’s open arms. He grips me tight and spins me around like a rag doll before grabbing a hold of face and pressing his lips against mine harshly. I don’t need werewolf abilities to sense the longing and happiness radiating off of him, he manages to show me through the kiss. 

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, relishing in the feeling of his body against mine after so long. 

A cough from somewhere behind us makes us reluctantly pull apart, though Peter’s arm remains slung over my shoulders. My eyes land on the teenagers who look dumbfounded, like they just witnessed a miracle. 

“You weren’t shitting us.” A guy with eyes wide like the moon looks between Peter and Derek before taking a seat on the sofa and running his hand over his face. From what I heard, that’s Stiles, Derek’s boyfriend. 

Next to me, Peter rolls his eyes, but goes on to pair the faces with their names. 

“The idiot is Stiles, he thought you weren’t real. Looks like you blew his mind.” Peter chuckles, pride filling his voice up to the brim. Out of the corner of my eyes, I notice Derek shake his head and roll his eyes. I send him a quick smile, I’ll have to catch up with him later on.

“Can you blame him though?” I laugh a little, winking at Peter. My teasing causes him to roll his eyes and someone to mutter ‘burn’ and ‘whipped’.

“You’re here barely 5 minutes and you’re already putting him in his place. Simply amazing.” Stiles grins.

Peter and I have the weird kind of relationship. We either talk every minute of the day or don’t talk for days because of our busy schedules. We’ve dated for more than half of our life, yet every time I’m around him I still feel like we’ve just started dating. Plus, he’s the only one who can match me with sarcasm, though I’m getting the sense that Stiles can do so too.

Ignoring Stiles’s comment, Peter moves on to introduce the rest of the people, some of who I’ve already heard about. Allison, Scott, Lydia and Stiles are the one’s I’ve heard of, but this is my first time meeting them. Though I’ve never heard of Isaac, Liam or Malia. But they seem like they’re a fun bunch.

“Well, nice to meet you all. I wasn’t expecting to intrude on a pack meeting, so I’m sorry about that.” I smile at the group, kind of feeling a little guilty now. Maybe I should have called first. But the desire and want to see Peter as soon as possible won out.

“We were only talking about my new shoes and how unbelievable it is that Peter has a fianceé. How did you two meet?” The strawberry blonde girl, Lydia, fills me in. She’s the banshee, I think. 

Peter and I take a seat on one of the many sofas Derek was forced to buy for the teens and Peter starts filling her in on our first encounter. As he speaks, I relive the blissful moments.

I watch in disbelief as my friend, Maya, attempts to shoot the balloons with the gun attached to the booth. She’s already fired 13 shots and somehow managed to miss ever single one. Fairs have never really been my thing, but since my roommate wanted to go, I figured tagging along wouldn’t do me any harm. But just watching her miss the balloons pains me. 

I roll my eyes and hand the guy a five dollar bill and take my friends place. I take a deep breath in, then exhale and fire fire fire. The first 10 rounds hit the balloons, and soon I’m buying more and more bullets. Out of the 30 balloons, I only missed two. 

I set the gun down and turn around to look at my dumbfounded friend before telling her to pick whatever teddy I just won her. Maya squeals and immediately asks to see a massive grey one. 

“Impressive shots, if I do say so myself.” An impressed voice that belongs to a cute guy makes me raise my eyebrows. A cute guy speaking to me? And complimenting me? No way.

“Cheers, I guess not being obsessed with makeup and clothes gives me a lot of free time. I’m (Y/N), by the way.” I smile and extend my hand for the cute to shake. 

The guy looks at my outstretched hand before taking a hold of it, turning it and pressing a gentle kiss to it. My heart flutters a little.

“Peter, pleasure to meet you.”

“And then the two of us had a bet, who could get the most free cotton candy. Somehow I won.” Peter shrugs and presses a small kiss on the side of my head. I feel my heart flutter like that time at the fair 22 years ago. 

“That’s oddly sweet.” Scott says, almost like he’s confused that Peter was nice. Peter is tricky. He can be stand-offish, and cruel, and manipulative, but never towards me. Never. So no wonder the pack isn’t used to this kind of behavior from him.

“How come he got the most? That seems unlikely.” Lydia laughs a little, eyebrows furrowed. I don’t blame her. Though he did fail to mention that he only won by one, but I’ll let him have his 5 minutes of fame.

“Oh Peter here was the self-proclaimed local charmer back in his days.” Derek chimes in. This causes the pack to look at each other in confusion. Of course they wouldn’t think so, despite Peter’s still stunning looks. To them he’s just an old dickhead. 

Next to me, Peter huffs and stand up. “Well, it was nice to have a little family catch up but (Y/N) and I are not going to spend any more time that we could be together around all of you. So scram.” 

The pack all sigh in defeat and follow Peter’s finger which is pointing at the door. Lydia barely gets the chance to shout back at Derek to give her number to me so we can stay in touch before Peter slams the door shut. This leaves Stiles, Derek, Peter and I alone in awkward silence. 

“Well, Derek and I had a date planned anyway, just please don’t do it on he kitchen counter because that would be gross.” Stiles instructs us as Derek rolls his eyes, but follows his boyfriend out of the apartment nonetheless. They’re too adorable.

Peter wastes no time in spinning me around and attaching his lips to mine in a kiss filled with longing and frustration. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him as his lips make their way down my neck, my dress hiked up to my waist. As I feel the cool marble of the kitchen counter underneath me, I laugh a little. 

[gildedmermaid]

only fools fall for you. 

lucio & doomfist ficlet.

warning: i haven’t written in a really long time so it’s probably shit <3

edit: shit this looks terrible on my tumblr page. i am so sorry.

Lúcio had just finished his show, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, sweat clinging to his back, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. The crowd had been electric, their energy frenetic and contagious. It never ceased to amaze him, watching the sea of bodies. And they were there for him. Him. It was unreal.

He knew he couldn't sleep. He was too wound up. Too amped. He could still feel the music surging through him, his nerves like a live wire. He chugged a bottle of water and took to the streets. The cool air made him shiver, and he tilted his face into the wind.

It wasn't long before he could feel it. That someone was watching him. His eyes swept the area, his muscles tense.

“I know you're there.” He spoke casually.

The hulking form spilled from the shadows and into the dim light. The man was built like a goddamn brick house. His smile harsh, all teeth. A promise of violence. Danger. Lúcio swallowed roughly, recognizing the face. He reached for his phone.

“I would not, Lúcio Correia dos Santos.” The tone was warning.

“Doomfist? Man, don't harsh my mellow.” He said with a sigh, seemingly calm. Lúcio knew. He knew he wouldn't win in a fight. The man went up against hulked up Winston and lived. He was unbridled strength, rage.

“You know me.”

“Yeah, man, and I don't wanna fight tonight. Tonight is about peace.” He said, holding his hands up. A surrender. An offering. Lúcio was a fighter, passionate and bold. But violence always put a bitter taste in his mouth. Sometimes he felt old, worn. So much blood spilt. He just wanted peace. Wanted unity. Wanted a better world.

The man regarded him, seemingly trying to stare into his soul--or something. His eyes narrowed. Brow furrowed.

“You talk of peace, and yet you willingly fight.”

“Someone has to change the world.”

“I am changing it.”

“How? By killing everyone in sight?” Lúcio scoffed, his voice raising slightly. He had always been a bleeding heart. The suffering of others made him ache.

“You think you are better than me.” Doomfist said in a flat tone. When had he gotten so close? Lúcio felt dwarfed, felt his lungs constrict for a moment. He waited. Waited for the blow. He was backed into a corner. Could practically feel the heat rolling off the other man. His heart pounded noisily against his rib cage.

“Nah, man. I get it. I don't agree. But I get it.”

“Akande Ogundimu.”

“Huh?”

“My name is not ‘man’. It is Akande Ogundimu.”

Lúcio chuckled quietly.

“Akande Ogundimu.”

“Yes?”

“Nothin’. Just testing it. It has nice sound to it.”

And it did. It wrapped around his tongue beautifully. Danced on his teeth like a song.

“It means ‘heir to the god who grasps iron and war’”.

“Of course it does.” Lúcio said a little wryly. Was there anything about this man that isn't dramatic? His presence was almost too much, too big. As though he commanded everything’s attention. As though the entire world waited with baited breath for his next move.

Or was that just him?

Doomfist stalked closer, their bodies a breadth apart. Lúcio had to crane his neck to look him in the eye. It was unnerving. And a little thrilling. (Not that he would admit that).

“What do you want?” he asked, not backing down. His voice didn't waver, and his eyes were hard.

“I wanted to meet you. You have garnered much attention. And I wanted to see the fuss for myself.”

“And?”

“And. I am impressed.” The other man murmured, swiping his thumb across Lúcio’s cheek. “For someone so small, you have fire in you.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? He couldn't tell. His face scrunched.

“Peace. I mean no insult.” the other man spoke, his laugh rich and husky. “You are...intriguing.”

“Thanks?” Lúcio offered, licking his lips unconsciously--or maybe self-consciously. The other man tracked the movement, his smile widening. “So...you're not going to kill me then?”

“Not tonight.” It was tinged with amusement, and a threat. The time would come. Kill or be killed.

“You know, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, your mouth makes such pretty speeches. I wonder if I could taste them on my tongue.” Akande said lowly, sensually. His hand went to Lúcio’s glistening mouth, his thumb trailing over his lips.

Lúcio’s breath hitched. He could feel the calluses on Doomfist’s thumb. Could taste the sweat. It was heady.

“Wha-?” was all he managed. His cheeks hot, warmth pulling in his stomach.

“I will not stop unless you make me.”

“Is this some kind of weird Talon strategy?”

“No. Now I will continue.”

Lúcio didn't speak, and instead fisted (heh) the other’s shirt and pulled him closer, their bodies pressed flush. He should have smarter. Warier. Shouldn’t put himself at Doomfist’s mercy. Shouldn’t let himself sink into his touch. Those hands murdered. But there was something about him. Something that made him want.

The larger man let out a groan. “Good.” He went to grip Lúcio’s hair. He pulled tightly, exposing his neck. Making the muscles go taut. He ran his lips over Lúcio’s skin, sucking on his pulse point. Scraping his teeth along the sensitive flesh.

God. This guy. Big hands, big fingers, big everything.

And that was when a shrill ring met their ears. Doomfist growled loudly, putting a hand in his pocket and pulling out a phone.

“What.” He said in an irritated tone, as Lúcio stood there, trying to catch his breath. His eyes staring unabashedly at the other man. Drinking him in.

“I will be there.” the other man barked, ending the phone call abruptly. He pressed his forehead against Lúcio’s, exhaling loudly.

“I must go. We will finish this.” Doomfist said, like a promise. A threat. And then he faded back into the shadows. How could a man that big move so quietly?

And there was Lúcio. Hot and flustered, chest heaving.

Unreal.

Freakin’ unreal.

He fumbled for his own phone, scrolling through his contacts.

“Hana, girl. You’re never gonna believe what just happened…”

[aurora077]

Sirius is not on drugs, chapter 1

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12720187/1/Sirius-is-not-on-drugs

Lupin Residence. Tuesday 16th July, 4:00 pm

*bringg... bringg..... bringgg*

“Remus dear could you get that?” Mrs. Lupin called from the kitchen.

“Sure mum,” he replied, sticking a clean chocolate wrapper in his book to mark the place.

“Lupin residence, Remus speaking,” he answered. There was silence. “Hello?” he said. Still more silence. He was slightly peeved that he’d been pulled away from his book for this and was about to hang up when a cough came from the other side.

“H..hi Remus,” came a voice. He didn’t recognise the owner though the voice was vaguely familiar.

“Hello. May I ask who is speaking?” he replied.

“Um. It’s Sirius. Sirius Black. Not sure if you remember me, we met at Lily’s 17th birthday party?” ­­the man replied hesitantly.

“Ah, right. Sirius. What can I do for you,” Remus replied, wondering if Lily gave some random guy his number. But he knew Lily wasn’t like that, she was a good friend, she would have asked him first. Besides, if she did, why would she give his house phone number rather than his cell? And that was almost a year ago too, why was he calling now? The name Sirius was familiar, but he couldn’t really recall more than that. ­­

Remus’s mind was working on overdrive but he was brought out of his thoughts by something sounding suspiciously like a pig squeal in the background.

A nervous chuckle came over the receiver as Sirius stammered out, “S..sorry about that, my, uh, my cat is sick.”

“Your cat?” Remus said incredulously.

“Well, technically my brother’s cat. Stupid Kreacher,” he muttered, “Dogs are way better. Like mine.”

Had he just called the cat a stupid creature? Remus frowned, “Now that’s not nice. It can’t help being sick, no need to call it a stupid creature, even if you do like your dog better.”

“Oh, no not creature, but Kreacher. That’s his name. And he really is stupid, I mean, he hates me. Nobody with any sense hates me! I’m wonderful!” Sirius announced.

“Right,” Remus deadpanned, “Well Mr. Wonderful, you still haven’t informed me of your purpose for calling.”

Sirius laughed nervously again, “About that...” He trailed off.

Remus sighed, “Yes?”

“What do you think about unicorns?” Sirius said abruptly, his manner changing from nervous to slightly manic sounding.

“Unicorns???” Remus, was utterly confused, “I guess unicorns are okay?”

“Great! Glad you think so! Now what do you think about werewolves?” Sirius said, his pitch rising slightly.

“Werewolves?? They’re dangerous,” Remus replied, not knowing why he was going along with this weird conversation.

“What? Werewolves are not dangerous! They’re awesome!” ranted Sirius.

“I mean, I guess they can be both?” replied a puzzled Remus.

“You’re darn right they can!” said Sirius enthusiastically.

“Now what does this have to do with your purpose for calling?” Remus asked, amused but still waiting on an answer.

Sirius coughed, “Well you see, there’s this play.”

“A play? You’re putting on a play?” Remus enquired. Remus loved plays. Maybe Lily had sent Sirius to him for advice. He did know a lot about plays though he hadn’t ever written one.

“Ye...I mean NO. I’m uh writing! That’s right, I’m writing a play,” he said, sounding pleased with himself.

“Well that’s a noble goal. Does it have a name yet?” Remus said, slightly intrigued.

“Um....yes, it’s called.....uh... Unicorneo and Werewolfette!” he proclaimed.

Before Remus could say anything he heard what sounded like violent wheezing/choking.

“Damn cat! Shoo!” Sirius said, sounding irritated.

“Um, Sirius, are you sure your cat is okay? I mean it’s starting to sound really bad, maybe you should take it to the vet?” Remus said, concerned.

“No no, it’s just uh, coughing up a hairball,” Sirius said, brushing away his concerns.

“Uh, okay then,” Remus replied, starting to feel that this conversation was entirely too strange.

“Just ignore the cat and everything shall be fine young grasshopper,” Sirius said sagely.

“Riiiiight. So, about Unicorneo and Werewolfette...” Remus started.

“Yes! As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by the idiotic cat,” he hissed cat like it was the gravest insult, “My play is going to be amazing.” Remus could practically see him dramatically turning his nose up, even though he hadn’t the faintest idea what Sirius looked like.

“I’m sure it is,” Remus drawled, “Romeo and Juliet, magical beast style, should be interesting.”

Sirius gasped, affronted, “Romeo and Juliette?? You insult me my dear Remus!”

“Is that not what it’s based on?” Remus asked.

“Why certainly not! I would never copy old Will! This is 100% Sirius Black material,” he stated, sniffing in what he presumed was a dignified manner.

“I see. And what is the play about then?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“It’s about...uh...a bank robbery! Yes, a bank robbery that goes wrong when Werewolfette stops to buy a steak with the stolen money two days later,” Sirius said, the manic edge returning to his voice as he started to ramble on, “Unicorneo is the cop that catches her, but ends up falling in love with her when she bites him for trying to take away her steak. They go on an epic adventure cross country with a hamburger loving hippogriff. Finally Dracula, the police chief, catches them and kills Unicorneo for his treason against the Fairy Queen by stabbing him in the neck with his fangs and drinking all his blood, leaving Werewolfette so depressed she buys poison from a rat called Wormtail and eats it and dies in the arms of the dead Unicorneo.” Sirius, who had said all of this in one breath, was now breathing heavily.

Remus was speechless. His jaw had dropped steadily lower during Sirius’s impassioned rant about his play.

“Remus? You still there?” Sirius asked after a few moments of silence.

Remus let out a strangled ‘yes’. He didn’t know how to respond to that. It was certainly...something. In the end he collected himself and just ended up saying, “I hate to break it to you buddy but, that sounds pretty much like an interpretation of Romeo and Juliette.”

“No it can’t be!” Sirius gasped dramatically, “Tell me how!”

“Uh two people on opposite sides of the law who should be enemies end up falling in love and then dying in each other’s arms. Not exactly Romeo and Juliette but the inspiration can be seen if you squint,” he said, “Plus....the name is a dead giveaway really.”

“Nooooooooooo!” Sirius groaned, “My life’s work! Ruined! I shall write nevermore! Goodbye Unicorneo! Goodbye Werewolfette! You shall be banished to the veil of no return!”

Sirius, Remus thought, would make a good actor.

“Now is that really necessary?” Remus said, trying to calm down his dramatic conversation partner, “It sounds....interesting. You could still publish it as a reinterpretation.” Who was he to judge if the dude had an active imagination?

“I shall not! It’s a disgrace! It’s only fit for the bin now my Loopy friend,” Sirius wailed.

“Loopy?” Remus said, befuddled.

“Yes, Loony Loopy Lupin. It has a nice ring to it doesn’t it?” Sirius said, with surprising cheer for someone who’d just been wailing about his life’s work being destroyed.

“Um, we shall have to agree to disagree,” Remus remarked lightly.

“Fine. But I’m telling you, it’s genius!” he could imagine Sirius’s grin.

“Whatever floats your boat,” Remus sighed.

“I think you mean, whatever floats my goat,” Sirius said jovially.

“Your goat?” he said, wondering if he’d heard wrong. Remus felt that his eyebrows would be permanently stuck in his hairline by the time this conversation was over.

“Yes, my goat,” Sirius said, “His name is Prongs.” Sirius grunted suddenly.  

“Are you okay? What happened?” Remus asked, worried, but also wondering how many pets Sirius owned.

“I’m fine,” Sirius sounded winded, “I just stubbed my toe.”

“Right...your toe...” Remus said, starting to suspect something was off about Sirius.

“Yes, my toe. So, Remus old buddy old pal, how’s it going?” Sirius said, deflecting any more talk about his toe.

“How is what going?” Remus said.

“You. How are you?” Sirius asked.

“I’m...starting to question my sanity,” he mumbled.

“Oh no but you mustn’t! You’re just sane as I am! Sanity is like the moon. It’s always up there in the sky reflecting sunlight for us mere mortals to have light in the darkness of the night. And like the moon, sanity guides us through the confusing darkness of our minds,” Sirius said, stroking his non-existent beard contemplatively. Then suddenly, snapping his fingers, he expounded, “I know! We can call you Moony. It fits you so well. You’re the moon of my life! Sane to my in! Water to my goat!”

“I take it back,” Remus said quickly, “I’m starting to question your sanity.”

On her way out of the kitchen, Mrs. Lupin spotted Remus still on the phone. “Oh hey honey didn’t realise you’d still be on the phone, must be that girlfriend of yours, Lily was it?” she said, moving to the dining room before he could reply.

Remus rolled his eyes and called after her “No mum, it’s not Lily.” He didn’t bother explaining to her for the millionth time that he and Lily were just friends, she’d think what she liked anyway. To be fair to her he did exclusively hang out with Lily. She wasn’t just his good friend, she was his only friend. Well, that didn’t sound pathetic at all.

Remus heard a loud yelp over the phone, which drew his mind back to the conversation.

“Oh sorry, ignore that. That’s my dog Snuffles. He doesn’t get along very well with Kreacher,” Sirius said sheepishly.

“Well such is the way with cats and dogs,” said Remus, though he didn’t really know since he’d never had any pets.

“Indeed it is, though Snuffles is right not to like that disease ridden cat,” Sirius grumbled.

Remus stifled a laugh at Sirius’s irritation, glancing at the clock as he did so. It was 5 pm already. Where had the time gone? He had never spent so long on the phone before.

“Anyway,” he said, turning his attention back to the phone, “I think you should go break up your pets before they kill one another. That yelp sounded painful. Besides, I have to go now, it’s time for dinner.” He had thoroughly wasted the past hour on a random, if amusing, conversation with Sirius, whose original purpose for calling he still wasn’t quite clear on.

“What, already???” Sirius replied, aghast. He was actually enjoying the conversation, having forgotten why he originally called Remus in the first place.

He thought about it and asked hesitantly, “Well...can I call back tomorrow then?”

“Sure I guess, same time,” Remus said, shrugging to himself. Not like he had much else to do.

“Yes! Okay tomorrow then,” said Sirius. And Remus shook his head, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. There was only one thing left to say though, before he hung up. He smirked slightly.

“Oh and Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“Lay off the drugs.”

 Potter Residence. Tuesday 16th July, 5:00 pm

There was an almost deafening silence. Then it was broken by twin bursts of laughter.

Sirius just stared dumbfounded at the phone while James and Peter rolled around on the living room floor.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA we should make Lupin a marauder for that. Pads you should see the look on your face,” James said, wiping away a tear of mirth.

Sirius threw a pillow that hit James squarely in the face, skewing his glasses.

“Hey!” James cried.

“What? You were being a git. And they are called throw pillows after all, Mrs. P. said so herself,” Sirius huffed.

“Now James, don’t be mean to Sirius can’t you see he needs some support,” Peter said, holding back a grin.

“Yeah, see James. That’s what real friends do. They support you!” Sirius said.

“Exactly. Now Sirius, would you like some Aloe Vera?” Peter asked, the picture of concern.

“Aloe Vera? Why would I need Aloe Vera?” Sirius asked confused.

Peter couldn’t control his grin this time, “Because you just got burned.”

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

(A/N by Remus not James XD)

Reviews give Sirius motivation to stay away from drugs.

Sirius: “Hey, I am not on drugs!”

Remus: “Suuuure you aren’t Padfoot.”

[rithsu-chan]

Because We’re Friends

Title: Because We’re Friends Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou Characters: Natori Shuuichi, Natsume Takashi, other mentioned characters Relationship: Natori Shuuichi & Natsume Takashi Prompt: Favorite chapter/episode/arc (for May 17) Word Count: 2263 (not including the additional scene in italics below) Summary: Shuuichi isn’t stupid. He suspects– knows that Natsume has always been carrying something important with him. He doesn’t know what it is exactly, but he just knows it’s something dangerous. And so Shuuichi’s worry grows. And grows. 

And grows.

Warning: Contains content from manga chapters 14, 60-62, and 72-73, so if you haven’t read up until those chapters then don’t read this yet

Notes: This isn’t actually a single chapter/arc; it’s just that my favorite part/s is/are scattered throughout the manga, as seen in the warning above. 

I just love Natori’s relationship with Natsume and he’s honestly so protective of him, which is why Natori knowing about the Book of Friends really hit it home with me. This is basically just the scenes in the manga written in Natori’s perspective along with my own headcanons. Some of the dialogue were copied directly from the ones in the manga, so, yeah. Disclaimer.

Also, I crammed writing this so I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy and inconsistent. And b o i, I did not expect for this to exceed 2,000 words at all. I thought it was just gonna be a drabble with about 1k or so words, but then this happened. :’))

Anyway. On to the story.

The first time Shuuichi realized Natsume was carrying something important with him, it was at their trip to the hot springs. He had caught the tail end of Natsume’s conversation with the Youkai – Sumie, was it? – and even the part where he had a piece of paper tucked in between his lips.

Shuuichi thought odd of it, but he didn’t have time to think into it further as the Youkai was gearing up to attack Natsume, and he couldn’t have that, so he threw away everything but the thought and the instinct to protect him.

And then everything, his true purpose as to why he was in that inn as well as his motives in bringing Natsume along with him, kind of just unfolded from there.

Needless to say, he felt a little bit guilty about deceiving Natsume to go with him on this trip, when all he could have done was ask, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to do anything but lie at that time because he was so used to doing so. It was hypocritical of him to say to Natsume that he wouldn’t need to lie when he was with him when he himself did so. But, well… he’d say that old habits die hard, but he feels himself letting up a little bit when Natsume admits that he’d been keeping things from Shuuichi himself, and that statement brings Shuuichi back to what he was doing with the Ayakashi before.

However, that was something that could be done at a later date, and right now what’s more important is to seal that Youkai properly.

Shuuichi could admit to himself that he panicked just a little bit when his paper dolls failed to subdue the Ayakashi, but then he proceeded to feel relieved and amazed at the fact that a Youkai that Natsume had saved prior to their trip had been the one to save them when the exorcism failed. Huh, maybe helping Youkai isn’t so bad after all…?

He’ll... entertain that thought another time.

The next time the matter comes up, a few months, close to a year, had passed. Tsukiko-san had called and he’d sent a paper doll containing the details of their meet up, only to find out that that doll had fallen to the ground due to the rain and was picked up by none other than Natsume.

It was funny how fate decided to let them meet again, and under this circumstance no less, but it was even more frustrating because Shuuichi didn’t want Natsume to be involved in his exorcism business. The various times he was involved, Shuuichi had been infected by his compassion and kindness and recklessness, three things that the people in his line of work usually lacked – and for good reason, because those three things entail weakness, and Ayakashi leech onto that.

But… when Shuuichi looks at Natsume and all his compassionate glory, he can’t associate him with the word. Natsume is anything but weak; he’s brave and determined, and he’s also just a tad bit fragile, but that doesn’t make him weak. He knows that anyone who’s had a childhood dealing with Youkai couldn’t have grown up being fully accepted, and it shows with Natsume’s actions because, just like himself, he’s grown accustomed to lying, he finds certain acts of kindness directed toward him surprising, he has a hard time trusting people, and he…

He keeps secrets, no matter how dangerous, just so he could protect other people.

“Are you the Natsume of the Book of Friends that I’ve heard so much about?”

And that brings Shuuichi back into the present, because there it is. There it is again. The... recognition that Youkai have of Natsume’s name.

“Natori-san…”

“Tsk, so the exorcist brat is here. Did you overhear us?” the Ayakashi asked.

“...No,” Shuuichi answered, choosing his words carefully. “But it sounded intriguing. Care to fill me in?”

The Ayakashi snorted. “Who would tell a halfwit exorcist like you?”

Shuuichi paused. The way the Ayakashi said it… it seemed more than just an insult. He’d have lapsed into a thoughtful state right then and there, but alas, the Ayakashi has fled, effectively stopping his thoughts and putting him back into reality.

Later on, after the affair has ended and he’s told Natsume that whatever he had to say, he can say when he’s ready, Shuuichi thought. The amount of recognition Natsume holds over various Ayakashi is downright alarming, if only because it means that Natsume is so deep into Ayakashi business that he’s well-known by them across the land. Originally, Shuuichi had thought that that recognition was brought about by Natsume’s big heart for all the beings around him, but maybe there’s more to it than that.

Maybe… maybe he was well-known because of something he has, something that holds importance and– and power over the Youkai. Something powerful and terrifying and dangerous.

Something that the kind Natsume maybe shouldn’t have in his possession.

The Book of Friends, huh…?

Shuuichi had just exorcised an Ayakashi when he heard two small ones fretting over being exorcised themselves.

“Hey, isn’t that an exorcist?”

“Eh?! How scary… we might be exorcised if he finds us.”

Shuuichi finds himself amused, and he butts in, telling them that if he kept exorcising the small fry, it would be bad for his health. The low-level Ayakashi, fearing for their lives, blurt out that they’d do anything he demanded while also asking for forgiveness. Shuuichi, not one to pass up the opportunity, asks.

“Have you heard of the Book of Friends?”

The small Ayakashi are quaking and are weak-willed but they say nothing helpful about it and quickly run off. Shuuichi purses his lips.

Hm, so it appears that the Book of Friends is a well-kept secret among the Ayakashi that, for some reason or the other, should not be known by exorcists.

Now the question is: why?   

What power could the Book of Friends possibly have that would threaten the Ayakashi greatly should an exorcist get his hands on it?

Shuuichi thinks.

Youkai are generally afraid of exorcists because they do not want to be exterminated. So, if an exorcist in possession of the Book would be much more dangerous and fearsome for the Ayakashi, then Shuuichi could safely assume that the Book is fairly powerful.

Now then, Shuuichi mulls over what possible use a book could be to an exorcist. A book contains writings, and Shuuichi could think of a few things that require writing for exorcists.

It could be a book of spells, for example, spells that could effectively and efficiently exorcise Youkai. However, Shuuichi could not see the wisdom in simply carrying a book of spells around so he scratches that thought away.

A collection of circles, perhaps? That could serve some purpose for exorcists, having a ready-made stash of different types of circles made for different purposes. It may be convenient in some way for some people, however, for Shuuichi, it would only limit the sizes of the circles and he’d have to redraw them on the ground anyway if he needed a bigger one.

The last thing Shuuichi could think of that would need writing in an exorcist’s job would be forming a contract.

That… is not a pleasant possibility.

Shuuichi has caught only a glimpse of the Book, and from what he remembered, it was thick. If that thing contained contracts, then it means that a lot of Youkai were involved, and for such a thing to be in Natsume’s hands… he didn’t want to think of the possibility. Not yet. Shuuichi lowered his hat.

He best be going back. Natsume’s coming soon.

When Shuuichi had gone back to his condo with Natsume after picking him up, he was surprised to see one of his acquaintances – Aimiya-san – hanging around by the entrance of the building. And because fate just liked to screw with him, said acquaintance had also invited Shuuichi to an event in the Hakozaki house and managed to drag Natsume along.

Shuuichi had been careless. He should have never paraded around with Natsume, and now some weird rumor had spread about him.

He managed to suppress a sigh as they entered the premises of the Hakozaki house and quickly put on his business smile, listening attentively to Hakozaki-san’s request to find the elder Hakozaki’s study and seriously considering it.

It was a great opportunity, Shuuichi thought. His only regret was having Natsume be in the presence of other exorcists, especially since the Matobas are most probably elbow-deep into this matter as well.

But really, it was an opportunity that Shuuichi could not pass up, and he’d just have to take the risk. Natsume could defend himself fairly well enough anyway, and he had his cat bodyguard too, but just to ease his own conscience a little bit, he asked Hiiragi to go with Natsume as well, and also made Natsume dress as a shiki for good measure.

With that done, he set out to do some searching on his own. Urihime and Sasago had reported back to him after a while with a non-affirmative of the study’s location, but they both promised to search harder and Shuuichi only nodded. He’d thought as much anyway. There was no way his shiki could find it that quick if the people that came here before him hadn’t found it yet by now.

He continued searching on his own but no such luck turned up on his end as well. He sighed forlornly, thinking if it was impossible after all.

Ah, but if it’s Natsume…

Shuuichi found himself thinking. Natsume is different after all; he might just be able to find it.

He might have mused on it more, but then he was interrupted by the presence of another exorcist.

Nanase-san.

“Natori!” the elder pleasantly exclaimed. “As usual, you pick up on interesting stories very quickly.”

Shuuichi blurts out his greeting and they proceed on chatting. When asked about Natsume, Shuuichi simply waves it off and states that he hasn’t seen him.

He doesn’t want Natsume doing anything with the Matoba clan, not after he read Matoba’s letter to Natsume.

Nanase-san finally leaves and he takes the opportunity to look for Natsume and warn him about her. When Shuuichi does find him though, he was being attacked by a Youkai, and he tries so hard, his hardest, to pretend that he didn’t hear about the Book of Friends from the Youkai, only telling it to stay away from Natsume and attempting to rescue the younger male only for the fat cat to jump in and save him instead, but he knew Natsume knew that he heard it, so he tried placating him, telling him he’d just pretend he didn’t hear anything.

Natsume surprised him with his response.

“Natori-san… I won’t say it now because there are Ayakashi around, but after everything is done, will you hear me out?”

The statement gave Shuuichi pause, but he smiled and replied, “Of course.”

“My grandmother was called Natsume Reiko. It seems she had strong spiritual power.”

Shuuichi perked up at that, slightly surprised at Natsume’s straightforwardness and not expecting him to open up immediately after they’d finished, but he listened closely nevertheless.

“She was bad at dealing with humans so she was always involved with Ayakashi.” A pause. “She would challenge some, and when the Ayakashi lost, she made them write their names on a piece of paper. It seems she collected these.”

As Shuuichi heard the words, he was overcome with a grim disposition.

Natsume had said that she’d made them write their names. Shuuichi isn’t stupid; he’d deliberately told Natsume a while back that contracts formed with Youkai would require a name other than their real one, so the younger male’s lack of elaboration meant only one thing: the real names of the Ayakashi had been written.

It was a forbidden act.

Shuuichi listened on mirthlessly as Natsume continued to tell him about his grandmother, about how she’d made the Book of Friends out of loneliness, about how he’d inherited it and…

And about how, since he’s the only living blood relative of Reiko, he’s the only one able to return the names to their respective owners, which was why he’s now made it his life’s mission.

It was all… very difficult to accept for Shuuichi, because he knew, even if Natsume didn’t say so, that it was dangerous, risky, unsafe, and– and life-threatening. And he knew Natsume knew that as well, yet the younger still persists in doing so, if only to free the Youkai. Such a heavy burden for someone so... young and innocent. Shuuichi resists a shuddering breath.

Natsume was kind.

Natsume was too kind.

“It would be better if… such a dangerous thing was burned,” Shuuichi breathed out amidst the crackle of fire. Natsume, not having heard it because of the noise from the fire, asked what he had said, but Shuuichi merely brushed it off.

When Natsume had gone and the whole Hakozaki affair had been left behind, Shuuichi contemplated. He didn’t want the Book of Friends to stay in Natsume’s hands any longer, but Shuuichi had a feeling that nothing he’d say would persuade Natsume into giving it up, because Natsume’s just like that. Shuuichi can’t see him willingly throwing away the book; if anything, he’d probably fight tooth and nail just to protect it and to not let it fall into the wrong hands.

Shuuichi sighed exasperatedly, looking at the sky.

What was he going to do with Natsume?

End Notes: And yeah, that’s it. That’s the story. I now realize it’s more of a character study actually...? Of Natori, that is. 

Okay, uhm, I lied. That’s not the whole story yet. There’s still a scene I haven’t included in here ‘cuz I’m not yet done writing it, and is2g if I don’t get what I have done out right now, my brain is going to explode. 

The additional scene I’ll add tomorrow, but it’s going to be in a reblog sooo yeah. Y’all better read that additional scene because that’s where the title of this one-shot came from.

Thanks for reading and good night. 

...

On second thought, I’m gonna add here what I’ve written of the additional scene bc gahhhd I really need to get it out of my system/drafts and if I don’t my frustration would only grow and grow and grow.

So. Here you go.

“Natori-san! Natori-san, wait! The Book– it’s reacting!” Natsume shouted, stopping Shuuichi’s assault on it and momentarily distracting him from the Youkai.

“Watch out–!” Hiiragi warned, and Shuuichi turned to the Youkai, expecting to be hit, but that was prevented by the fat cat turning into his beast form and grabbing the Ayakashi in between his teeth.

“Natsume, now!” The white-furred beast looked to Natsume, his deep voice carrying across the land to where Natsume was, the Book suddenly out and opened.

“One who would protect me...” Natsume chanted, and Shuuichi looked on, confused and at the same time enchanted. “...show me your name.”

As the words were pronounced, the pages of the Book started flipping on its own and then abruptly stopped, a single page left standing. Shuuichi watched, enamored. He saw as the younger male ripped the page from the book and held it between his lips, a sight which he has seen only once before, at the inn with the hot springs.

And then, Natsume clapped, and blew.

The characters from the paper flew towards the captive Ayakashi in Madara’s mouth, and then a bright and soft light filled the air as the ink sank into the Youkai’s forehead, symbolically indicating that its name has been returned.

Yeah, just take it. And don’t give it back. Ugh.

Okay bye, for real now. See you tomorrow. 

[dabblesofacollegestudent]

Pirouette Part 3

Pairing: Sanuso

Word Count:  3634

Part 1: http://dabblesofacollegestudent.tumblr.com/post/137590239142/pirouette

Part 2: http://dabblesofacollegestudent.tumblr.com/post/140537773287/pirouette-part-2

Usopp was feeling increasingly awkward as he watched Sanji cook dinner. Not that watching Sanji cook was bad, it was actually amazing to see how skillfully he could chop up onions and dice tomatoes. However, as Sanji stayed eerily silent, wielding his kitchen knives like he wanted to stab somebody in the throat, Usopp felt increasingly uncomfortable staring at him. “So, uh… you do ballet?” Was the first thing out of Usopp’s mouth. As soon as he uttered the words he knew it was a mistake and the murderous aura around Sanji intensified. Sanji turned slightly and glared at Usopp. Just as Usopp was about to run for his life though, Sanji’s eyes softened somewhat as he turned back to what he was doing. “I used to.” He replied, as he added parsley and basil into the sauce he was preparing.

“Oh, ah well… why don’t you anymore?” Usopp wanted to slap his hand over his stupid mouth. Why was he asking questions about something Sanji clearly didn't want to talk about?! Probably because he was curious, but his intrigue wasn’t worth his life! Sanji sighed and gave him a weary look. “Just let me finish this and I’ll explain.” He told him, as he turned away again and began stirring the pasta. “I owe you some explanation I guess, for you bringing back my boombox and… keeping my secret.” Sanji’s voice trailed off at the end and Usopp could swear that Sanji’s ears appeared a bit redder than before. Usopp took the hint this time and kept his mouth shut. Instead he glanced around the kitchen. As his eyes scanned the counter, cupboards and table he noticed how clean it all was. However, it was more than that, everything here felt, untouched. Of course, it suddenly hit Usopp that Sanji had only moved here at the beginning of the school year. Maybe the move had something to do with him quitting? But it had to be more than that, Sanji was in tears last night when he found out, there had to be more… right? The thought of Sanji being so upset made Usopp have a weird feeling at the bottom of his gut that he just couldn’t place. Usopp was so lost in thought, that he didn't notice the plate of food being placed in front of him until the smell of garlic and tomato sauce hit his nose. He looked down to see a plate of some of the most delicious looking spaghetti that he’d ever seen, accompanied by some heavenly scented garlic bread. “Wow Sanji, this looks really good!” Usopp exclaimed, his stomach rumbling in anticipation. “It tastes better than it looks, so dig in longnose.” Sanji grinned and pulled up a seat across from Usopp. “Uh, by the way, my name’s Usopp, so you can stop calling me long nose.” Usopp remarked, before digging into his spaghetti. “I know what your name is, and I’ll call you whatever I want to call you.” Sanji huffed, gathering noodles on his fork. “Huh? How do you know my name?” Usopp asked, looking up from his food. “Nami told me about you. And wipe your damn face, you’re getting sauce everywhere.” Sanji motioned to the red sauce sticking around Usopp’s mouth. “Nami?” Usopp thought for a second. “Oh! That’s right! You’re friends with her, right? I think she mentioned to me that one of her friends had started school here.” “Nami was talking about me?” Sanji asked, sounding wary. “What did she… what did she say about me?” “Not much. Just that the two of you were great friends and she met you through Vivi. I always wondered why you never hung out with the rest of us.” Usopp watched as Sanji’s shoulders relaxed. “Why are you worried about what she would say?” Usopp asked, giving Sanji a scrutinizing look. “I wasn’t worried!” Sanji scoffed. “I was just curious is all. Of course Nami would only say good things about me. She’s a wonderful, beautiful, perfect human being.” “Uh huh.” Usopp wasn’t convinced in the slightest. “She did tell me you were a complete idiot around girls.” Usopp watched in amusement as Sanji sputtered, clearly being torn between disagreeing with that assessment and not wanting to insult Nami. Sanji was super cute when he blushed, Usopp realized. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Usopp’s wanted to slap himself. Sanji was way out of his league and clearly completely straight anyway. Thinking about how adorable Sanji looked as he blushed across his nose and cheeks would only lead to disaster. “A-anyway, you still didn't tell me why you quit doing ballet?” Usopp asked, before shoveling another fork full of pasta into his mouth. Sanji frowned as he twirled pasta on his fork. “I quit a while ago Usopp. It really isn’t as big of a deal, like you’re trying to make it out to be.” “But you looked so happy when you were practicing in the auditorium. Why would you want to quit doing something you love so much?” Usopp pressed. “It was fun… while it lasted.” Sanji took a bit of pasta and chewed for a moment, his eyes far away as if he was imagining he was somewhere else. “I quit because… there were these assholes at my last school.” Sanji set down his fork, his eyes clouded with repressed emotion. “They found out about it and… they were always giving me a hard time. It just… it wasn’t worth it anymore.” Usopp stared wide eyed at Sanji as the dancer continued eating, avoiding Usopp’s shocked gaze. Usopp knew what Sanji’s hunched shoulders, downcast eyes and shaky voice meant. Sanji felt defeated. It was a feeling Usopp was all too familiar with. This clearly meant more to Sanji then he was letting on, and there was certainly more to the story then what he had said. But Usopp didn't want to press him. He had never seen Sanji look this upset before. When Usopp would sneak peeks at Sanji in the hallways at school, the cook had always looked confident. Now though, Sanji looked like he was struggling to hold himself together. “Umm… hey Sanji?” Usopp’s voice quivered. “I’m going to be working late nights on the props for the school play for a couple weeks now. If you want, you can use the stage to practice. I-I’ll make sure nobody disturbs us or anything. I mean… if you want to…” Usopp finished lamely, rubbing the back of his head. Sanji looked shocked for a couple seconds, before his mouth melted into the most genuine smile Usopp had seen all evening. “I might take you up on that offer, long nose.” “Y-yeah, sounds good Sanji.” Usopp returned the smile, overcome with joy that he got Sanji out of whatever sadness he had been wallowing in.. “So, why don’t you tell me about this play you’re working on?” Sanji asked politely, before taking a bite of garlic bread. “Oh man, it’s going to be amazing. It’s about this-” Usopp went on and on about the play for the rest of the night. Sanji didn't seem to mind though, as he continued to smile and ask him questions about it. Despite his better judgement, by the time he had to leave, Usopp may have been just a little bit in love with Sanji. --- Although the two of them had gotten off on the wrong foot, as Sanji kept coming to practice in the auditorium, he and Usopp continued to become closer. Even after the play ran it’s course, Usopp learned how to pick locks from Nami (which raised her suspicions but Usopp managed to convince her that it was because he kept locking himself out of the house. He’s pretty sure she bought his lie for once), and he let Sanji into the auditorium almost every night. Even without the play props to work on, Usopp was fully entertained watching Sanji dance. And even though Sanji was nervous about people knowing about his talent, he wasn’t shy about performing for Usopp. In fact, Sanji loved nothing more then to show off to him, much to Usopp’s delight. It didn't help his steadily growing crush on Sanji though, that was starting to reach dangerous levels.

This was especially evident by how much space Sanji was taking up in his sketchbook. While Usopp didn't draw nearly as much as he used to, becoming friends with Sanji seemed to rekindle some of his creative spark. While Usopp normally busied himself with homework while he watched Sanji practice, he found himself pulling out his sketch book more often than not to try to capture the essence of the boy he had fallen far too hard for. Usopp desperately tried to capture the grace and the elegance of Sanji dancing but he felt his drawings always fell short. That didn't stop him from trying though, as the lead from his pencil coated his fingers while he concentrated on yet another drawing of his friend.

“What’cha drawing Usopp?” The long nosed teen let out a high pitched scream and nearly jumped out of his skin when he suddenly heard Sanji behind him. He hadn’t even noticed that he had stopped dancing, much less that he had snuck up on him.

“Geez Sanji, don’t scare me like that!” Usopp yelped as Sanji grinned down at him looking completely unapologetic.

“Yeah yeah, so what are you working on?”

“Nothing!” Usopp slammed his sketchbook closed. There was no way he could admit that almost the entirety of this book was filled with drawings of Sanji. “J-just doodling, ya know? I ran out of homework to do, so…”

“Then you should have told me, long nose.” Sanji replied. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to stick around just because of me.”

“No no it’s fine,” Usopp quickly waved off Sanji’s concern. “I like spending time with you and it’s incredible to watch you dance.” Usopp couldn’t stop the compliment as it fell out of his mouth, but he didn't regret it when he saw Sanji’s face turn pink as he tried to hide a small smile. Damnit, why did Sanji have to be so cute? Someone who swears as much as he does and smokes like a chimney shouldn’t be this adorable.

“Glad you were enjoying the show.” Sanji chuckled as he shyly turned away from Usopp and went to shut off his boombox.

“Hey Sanji,” Usopp called out as he packed up his stuff. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Sanji said as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. For once Sanji hadn’t hesitated to let Usopp ask him a question and Usopp felt honored that the dancer had grown to trust him so much.

“Well as I was watching you dance, it looked like a lot of the moves you were doing needed a partner. Did you use to have a dance partner?” Usopp asked.

“Of course!” Sanji turned and grinned at Usopp. “I had the most amazing and beautiful dance partner in the world!”

“Oh really?” Usopp tried his best to sound curious but hearing Sanji talk about his dance partner like that made Usopp wonder if she was more than just a ‘dance’ partner. He really shouldn’t be depressed that Sanji might like someone else, considering that he swooned for almost any girl who walked by, but Usopp couldn’t stop himself from feeling as though the floor had collapsed beneath him.

“Yeah, you probably already know her though. It’s Vivi, Nami’s girlfriend.” Sanji replied happily. “I’ve actually been friends with Vivi since we were in elementary school and I couldn’t possibly ask for a better dance partner. She’s just so elegant and graceful and was one of the best damn dancers at that studio. Ah, you should have seen her dance, she was immaculate! I remember this one time she-”

Usopp could feel his entire body relax as Sanji went on and on about how great of a dancer Vivi was. Usopp could tell now that, despite the praises Sanji was lavishing on her, he wasn’t interested in her romantically and even if he was, Vivi was already in a loving relationship with Nami.

“Wow, I had no idea that Vivi did ballet.” Usopp said, cutting off Sanji’s rambling. “I wish I could have seen the two of you perform. I bet it would be amazing.”

“Yeah…” Sanji’s shoulders suddenly dropped as he glanced downwards.

“Crap, I didn't mean to bring up painful memories. I’m sorry!” Usopp quickly apologized. He was such an idiot, talking about wanting to see Sanji perform with Vivi when Sanji had reluctantly given up doing ballet (outside of his secret practice sessions in the auditorium).

“No no, it’s fine.” Sanji waved off his concerns, although his expression still looked a little distant. “I just remembered something, that’s all. There’s no point dwelling on the past. I’m sure Vivi is going to get a new dance partner at some point. She deserves one after I quit on her so suddenly…”

“Oh…” Usopp felt at a lost for words for a moment as he stared at his friend, who was clearly troubled by the idea that Vivi would find a new partner. “Well I’m sure any partner she gets will pale in comparison to you.” Usopp offered, unsure if his compliment would improve Sanji’s mood or just further remind him of what he gave up.

“Heh, you’re damn right he won’t be as good as me.” Sanji flashed him a cocky grin. “I may be rusty from not practicing as much lately but I could still out dance almost all the guys at that dance studio.”

“I bet you could.” Usopp grinned back at his friend. “Still, we should see if we could convince Vivi to come one night and practice with you.”

“That’s a pretty good idea, longnose.” Sanji replied as they made their way out of the auditorium.

---

Unfortunately, their plans to have Vivi come practice fell to the way side as their school work began piling up. And despite how close they were becoming, Sanji and Usopp never seemed to hang out outside of these practices, much to Usopp’s disappointment. He’d even invited him to come hang out with Luffy and the rest but Sanji declined. Usopp couldn’t seem to figure out why though. The only friend Sanji seemed to have at school was Nami, so why didn't he want to join their group of friends? Even Nami had invited him but he politely turned her down. Usopp was flabbergasted that Sanji could refuse anything Nami asked.

Usopp was mulling over this as he searched through his locker for his math textbook. The more he rummaged through his stuff though, the less he worried about Sanji as he realized that he couldn’t find it anyway.

“I swore I brought it with me, didn't I?” Usopp rubbed his chin in thought. “Oh, I probably left it back in my car like an idiot.” He smacked his forehead before slamming his locker shut and running off down the stairs to the parking lot.

As he jogged past the multitude of cars though, Usopp could tell that there was something wrong with his car.

“Oh no.” Usopp whispered. “Oh no oh no oh no.” He ran as fast as he could and skidded to a halt when he saw what had happened.

Someone had keyed his car. A jagged line cut across his car from his license plate to his headlights. Usopp’s backpack slipped from his shoulder with a thud as he stared unblinkingly at the damage. He slowly knelt down and ran his hand along the scratch. It looked really bad, especially up close. The worst part of all of this though, was this wasn’t truly HIS car… it’s his mom’s. She’d leant it to him today since she was too sick to go to work and Usopp had been running late. He remembered thanking his bedridden mother profusely as he hurried out the door that morning. How on earth was he going to explain this to her? Usopp knew his mom most likely wouldn’t be mad at him, as she so seldom lost her temper, but he dreaded seeing the look of disappointment in her eyes when she saw the damage that had been done to her car. And it wasn’t like they had the money to fix it, with all of the income going to pay for his mom’s medical bills. The car may still be drive-able with the scar, but Usopp was already not looking forward to the humiliation of driving the scratched up car back home. And once his mom got better who knows how long she’d be stuck driving that car for all her coworkers to see.

Is it still drive-able? Usopp felt the blood rushing from his face when he realized someone could have slashed the tires as well. He quickly knelt down and started checking the tires to make sure they were still inflated when he heard the sound of a group of students walking past. The blood that had vacated his face quickly returned as he glanced to the side he could see a group of seniors, who had been previously chatting happily, were staring at his car.

“Holy shit, look at that-”

“Man that looks brutal-”

“I’m so glad that didn't happen to me, I mean could you imagine the-”

“Wonder what he did to to have someone do that to his-”

Even though he could only catch half of what they were saying, Usopp was praying for the ground to just open and and save him for this horrible humiliation. Why did someone do this? Why did they do it to him? Was it something he-

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

“What the fuck?”

“Oi, watch it!”

“Well then, why don’t you stop blocking the fucking way.” Usopp’s head finally perked up when he heard a familiar voice behind him. His head whipped around to see Sanji walking towards him while the group of seniors were all glaring at him as they finally moved away from Usopp’s car.

“S-sanji?” Usopp’s voice quivered, probably making him sound more pathetic than he already looked. “W-what are you..”

“Hey Usopp,” Sanji knelt down beside him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t listen to those shitty assholes, okay?”

Usopp could only weakly nod in reply as he desperately rubbed at his eyes to try to keep himself from crying. He shouldn’t be this worked up over this and crying in front of the guy he was head over heels for wasn’t an option.

Sanji turned to look at the car and ran his other hand along the scratch. “This looks pretty bad.” He told him honestly. “Is there any other damage to the car?”

“I-I-I don’t think so.” Dammit, Usopp squeezed his eyes shut. Why couldn’t he keep it together? Sanji was going to realize how much of a wimp he is if he keeps this up.

“Do you have any idea who could have done this?” Usopp opened his eyes to see Sanji glaring at the damaged car with rage dripping from his voice.

“No, I have no idea who did this. Or why someone w-would-” Usopp’s breath hitched as he felt the tears he had desperately tried to stop slide down his face. “What am I going to tell my mom? It’s her car and I… I just don’t understand! Why would someone do this? What did I do that-”

“Usopp, look at me.” Sanji grabbed both of Usopp’s shoulders firmly and turned him to face the other boy. “Listen to me Usopp, you did absolutely nothing to deserve this. You hear me Usopp? Absolutely nothing.”

Usopp looked up at Sanji with wide eyes for a moment, before overcoming all of his inhibitions as he threw his arms around Sanji. The cook wobbled for a moment, almost falling backwards by the force of Usopp’s hug, but managed to maintain his balance and wrap his arms around Usopp. And despite feeling like shit and feeling even more embarrassed that he was having a breakdown in the arms of the person he had a massive crush on, Usopp felt an unbelievable amount of security and warmth being wrapped up in Sanji’s arms.

Sanji let Usopp cry into his shirt for a while, before Usopp pulled away and wiped his face, hoping that there was some possible way he could salvage his dignity from this. Sanji stared at Usopp for a bit as he tried to pull himself together, before getting up and extending his hand to Usopp.

“Come on long nose, let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” Usopp tilted his head at him. “What do you mean? I gotta get to class and HOLY SHIT I AM SO LATE, I HAVE TO-” Usopp scrambled up but before he could book it back into the building, Sanji grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Forget about class Usopp. You’re already late, so we might as well just leave.”

“Leave? You mean like playing hooky? B-but I’ve never skipped class before! What if we get caught?”

“We won’t get caught long nose.” Sanji smirked. “I’ve done this hundreds of times before. So come on,” Sanji took his keys out of his pocket and began twirling them around his finger. “I’ll drive. And I’ll even treat you to lunch if you want.”

Usopp stared at the spinning keys for a moment, that promised freedom, food, spending time with his crush and a way out of going to class looking like a guy who’s grandmother just died. Even though the thought of getting in trouble made Usopp’s knees shake a little, there really wasn’t much of a choice.

“Sure I guess. First time for everything, right?”

---

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update this story. Life’s been busy and I’m struggling to find the time to write. I’m not planning on abandoning this story though so stay tuned! Hopefully it won’t take me as long for the next chapter (although you probably shouldn’t hold your breath).

[shiningamongdarkness]

Chapter 29. Bad Things

Shining among Darkness

By WingzemonX

Chapter 29. Bad Things 

Damien and Abra did not go very far. Actually, they only went up to the second level, where there was a small food area. There was a bit of everything, from salads and rolls for the most demanding, to hamburgers and pizzas for the most conventional. Thorn ordered a chicken salad, and in contrast, his guest ordered a medium burger and fries. They both sat facing each other at one of the small tables near the railing that surrounded the food area. The zone was actually like a small terrace where they could see the rest of the convention center from above; the companies and the people that came and went. From that position, it looked like one of those overloaded element images from Where's Wally? , although with movement.

 From the start, Abra looked quite curious about the camera hanging from the boy's neck. She asked if he would let her see it, and he indicated that only if she cleaned her fingers smeared with ketchup and oil from the fries.

 "Oops, alright, little princess," she exclaimed in an ironic tone, and immediately rubbed her hands together hard with a napkin. Then she took an antibacterial gel out of her backpack, poured some on her palms, and re-carved herself. She showed both hands on both sides with a satirical attitude, which Damien actually found quite amusing. "Satisfied?"

 "So, so."

 He removed the camera and pass it across the table to her. When Abra held it in her hands, the weight of it seemed to surprise her. She was rotating it, looking at its lens, all the buttons and options it had, the screen on the back… More than interested, she seemed perhaps scared.

 "It does look expensive," she said apprehensively. "How much are we talking about?"

 "I don't remember," Damien muttered, leaning fully against his chair. "Including all its attachments I bought recently, I think about four thousand."

 "Dollars?" The blonde girl exclaimed, almost horrified. "Wow, for a Thorn, I guess that's like buying a bar of chocolate at the store."

 Abra then raised the expensive device and placed it in front of her face. She put her eye to the peephole and focus directly on the boy sitting in front of her. He was smiling very subtly, with a plate of half-eaten salad in front of him.

 "I just need press here, right?" Abra asked as she fumbled with her finger at the shutter button on the side.

 "Basically."

 Abra seemed to hesitate for a few moments between taking the photo or not. In the end, she chose to lower the camera and look at his companion with uncertainty.

 "No, wait…"

 She placed the camera on the table for a few moments, then leaned forward, extending her hand toward him. Before Damien could react, the young woman placed her hand on her head, and violently shook his combed hair, causing it to fall out of place.

 "Hey," Damien said reproachfully, but immediately the same hand took his tie from its knot and tugged it off.

 "Unbutton the first two buttons," the young woman indicated, just afterward in a playful tone. Damien looked at her reluctantly for a few seconds. Still, then he seemed more relaxed and complied with her request by opening his shirt until he showed a little of his pectoral major. "Better. You don't look like a yuppie anymore."

 "Do you at least know what that word means?"

 Abra ignored his question. She retook the camera and focused on him once more.

 "Look this way, baby."

 Damien did not draw a smile or opt for an unusual look. He just looked at the lens naturally, and a few seconds later, he clearly heard the characteristic sound of a photograph taken. Abra glanced at the photo on the rear digital display, and almost immediately passed it to Damien for him to see.

 "What do you say? Do I have talent?"

 The boy in a suit, although now without a tie, took his camera back and inspected the last photograph taken. He surveyed her in an intriguing silence for a while. He then slowly turned to see the young girl before him with a little seriousness in his eyes.

 "It is a little out of focus," he informed her normally. "And you cut off the top of my head. And I think it would have been better if you had taken it vertically."

 Abra's face covered with slight pout-like anger, which made her already childish face look even more out of place.

 "I bet you're still one of those people who always looks good in all the photos," she muttered angrily as if trying to make that sound like an insult, though he didn't really feel like one at all. "I always ended up looking terrible."

 "Perhaps you've never met the right photographer," the young Thorn pointed out, and then allowed himself to take the camera upright and focus on her while adjusting the lenses. "Look here with your best smile."

 "I only have a smile," the blonde replied wryly. Then she took a deep breath, sat up straight in her chair, stared straight ahead, and smiled in a soft and decorous way.

 Damien kept focusing on her, trying to find the right angle and focus.

 "Just let me..." He reached out a hand toward her then, not releasing the camera with the other, and ran his fingers across her forehead to remove one of her curls from her face. This act took Abra by surprise, but it was made even more so by the fact that at that very moment, he took the photo without even warning her. "Done. It's perfect."

 Without glancing at the screen, he extended the camera back to his model so she could see the result herself. Abra, skeptical enough, reluctantly took the camera to see what he had done. Surely she looked stupid or something like that.

 It was not so.

 Abra was stunned to see the spontaneous photograph taken. She was looking up at a small upward angle as if she were looking at something far above. In reality, what her eyes were currently looking for was the hand of her photographer. Her face at that moment was not one of surprise or anger, but instead seemed thoughtful, dreamy. The light streaming through the stained glass above their heads made their skin take on a brilliant hue, and played well with the shadows on their side.

 Maybe she was just looking at it through a small square screen, but Abra immediately thought it might be her best photo ever taken.

 "Wow..." she muttered, unable to get out of his amazement. Then she looked at Damien, who from his chair seemed quite proud of his work. "How did you do it?"

 Young Thorn shrugged.

 "I think I have the gift of bringing out the best and worst in people... in their photographs, of course," he hastened to clarify. "I like the photos because they capture a fixed moment of the people. Everything that crossed their minds, everything they feared and wanted, you can interpret it in their expression, in their gaze, or posture. Small details that in a video or the naked eye go unnoticed.

 Abra did not show much reactions to his words. She seemed to be still digesting the impression of having seen such a photo and did not have enough energy to try to completely decipher what he was trying to tell with all that.

 Then he passed his camera back to him.

 "And what do you see in my picture?" She asked curiously.

 Damien glanced at the camera screen before answering something.

 "You shine brightly," he mentioned abruptly. "And intensely."

 A trace of surprise was drawn in the blonde girl's eyes, and her cheeks took on a slight pink hue, which she tried to hide by turning away. She cleared her throat discreetly, and with the movement of her fingers, she put the same lock of hair that he had accommodated back out of place.

 "Well," she exclaimed, apparently calmer though perhaps she was somewhat feigned in reality, "in addition to being rich, an amateur photographer, and a reader of minds, what else can you do?"

 "Do you mean…?" Damien pointed a finger at his own head. Abra didn't answer anything, but her single glance was enough to indicate that it was just that.

 The boy smiled, amused.

 (I really don't think I can read minds precisely. I usually am only able to feel what people feel or get an idea of ​​their concerns, fears and desires, and other strong emotions.)

 "It's the first time that someone's thoughts come to me as if they were part of a conversation," he concluded in his own voice.

 "For your first time, you're doing pretty well," Abra pointed out, placing a hand on her chin in an almost overactive thoughtful expression. "You even manage to block me completely and very easy, apparently.

 "Block you?" Damien asked, intrigued.

 Abra was now the one who smiled, leaning her body slightly forward.

 (Yes, I'm not able to get into that small head of yours on my own, only what you want me to see. It's not so weird, really. I can do it too, and my uncle Dan the same. But I find it curious that you do it so naturally if you have never done this before.)

 She took one of her fries, dipped it halfway into her ketchup pot, and immediately afterward put it entirely in her mouth. She seemed to enjoy it pleasantly.

 "I've always been told that I have a knack for learning new things," Damien replied with a shrug.

 "Uh-huh, but seriously" the young woman insisted, "can you do something else?"

 "You can?"

 "I asked first."

 "Tell me, and I tell you."

 "So mature, uh?" Abra mumbled with a bit of false annoyance. She took a deep sip of her soda, before deigning to reply. "I have a little telekinesis. You know, moving objects with the mind, or breaking things. When I was little, I think I had more. But, as I grew, that ability was diluted a little. Now it only comes to me when I'm upset, in danger, angry or something like that."

 Damien's face turned somewhat serious upon hearing her.

 "That's interesting," he murmured with genuine interest, which had possibly inadvertently sounded a little sarcastic.

 "Well, it's your turn. What else can you do?"

 Damien leaned fully against his chair, brooding a little. He sipped from his water bottle, looking at the ceiling for the best answer to give.

 "I can... make some animals do as I tell them."

 Abra's eyebrow arched in disbelief.

 "No, of course not," she muttered, almost offended.

 "It's true."

 "Seriously? Do you want me to think you have mental control over animals?"

 "In some, mainly dogs."

 Abra laughed forced; it was evident that she did not believe him. She took his glass of drink and sipped until he seemed to run out of what little she had left.

 "How convenient that there isn't a dog around here to show that impressive act," she murmured sarcastically. "I have a little dog named Brownie. It was a gift from my uncle Dan; it was from an acquaintance of his who passed away. It's an adorable creature, but sometimes I wish I could get him to obey me when I tell him to get off the couch or not to chew on what he shouldn't."

 "I can help you with that."

 "Oh, yeah? You could be like the Dog Whisperer, but in a millennial version."

 "I think we are actually Gen Z."

 "Does not matter."

 Abra laughed then, with a natural and soft laugh. Everything about her seemed too... authentic and transparent as if she wasn't afraid in the least to say or do as she pleased. That was something really unusual for Thorn, at least when people were before him. Even those who did not know his supposed true nature, simply because he was a Thorn or many times because of his mere presence, tended to say and act in such a way to please him. It sounds great at first, but the truth is that it gets a little boring in the long run. This girl was certainly unusual for him, and therefore attractive. Definitely more interesting than the adulterer couple from a while ago.

 "Can you do something else?" Damien asked directly and bluntly. Abra was halfway through a bite of her burger when she heard the question, so she had trouble starting to focus and answer at first.

 He chewed quickly, covering her mouth with one hand, and swallowed as fast as she could.

 "Let me see... I can project my consciousness to other places," Abra declared quite naturally, despite the unusual nature of his statement. "I can see and hear a person who is miles from me as vividly as if I were in front of them. But it requires a lot of concentration, and I need to know where I want to go or with whom I want to go. Sometimes touching an object or a photo helps, or I just focus on an idea or desire and let myself be carried away by it."

 "I think I can do something similar, too," Damien commented excitedly. He did not know if it was precisely the same, but he was indeed able to see and hear people who were very far from him; sometimes he could even do much more to them than just see and hear them.

 "It's not strange," said Abra, a little indifferently, "my uncle Dan can too."

 "That Uncle Dan you mention so much, did he teach you how to do all those things?"

 "Not precisely." Abra took another bite of her burger; she only had about two more bites left. "I could do all this from a very young age, and most of them I was learning on my own. I knew my uncle until I was twelve. In general, my abilities are more powerful than his. But he has a lot more experience and control. So yes, his advice and guides have helped me."

 So there was not only one other person in this world who could do things similar to his, but there were at least two. And on top of everything, it was someone with more "experience and control." The idea provoked a real mixture of feelings; among them, there was definitely anger, but he didn't want to think about it just yet.

 He took a bite of his salad, a piece of chicken, and a bit of lettuce, to be exact. Then he looked down at the rest of the people, and at the same time began to capture more clearly all the noise they made: their voices, their steps... and their minds.

 "There is something else I can do," he murmured suddenly once he finished chewing. Then he ran a napkin over his lips to wipe off any traces of dressing that might have been left there. "I can't only influence animals, but also some people. In those with weaker or more vulnerable minds, in fact. I can make them do things."

 "Things like what?" Abra questioned, apparently skeptical as well, but not as much as with animals.

 Damien smirked.

 Then he looked again at the crowd.

 "Let me see..." he whispered slowly as he ran his gaze through the tumult, looking for someone who could serve as an example. The perfect subject crossed was presented without much waiting. "See that man over there?"

 Damien pointed down toward the booth area. Abra looked in the direction he was pointing. It took her a while to identify who he was talking about. Still, it seemed clear to her that was pointing to a man in his forties, in a gray suit and a bald head, who was standing in front of the stand of some motorcycle brand, or so it seemed. The stand was attended by beautiful women in short, tight silver dresses with glitters. That was the only thing she could perceive from that distance.

 "He hasn't taken his eyes off that promo girl in quite a while," Damien added, pointing now to one of the girls, a tall blonde and quite, quite curvy, who was currently attending to another man interested in one of the machines they displayed. "From here, I can feel all the bad emotions caused by her figure and her tiny dress. He's a married man, and he's still considering inviting her out with him tonight."

 Abra stared at him for a moment, but almost immediately, she turned back to the man, trying to focus on him. There were a lot of people, a lot of noise and movement. He couldn't quite grasp what Damien was describing so clearly. Still, she did get a somewhat uncomfortable and unpleasant sensation from him.

 "How disgusting," she muttered, annoyed.

 "Undue thoughts are the easiest for me to perceive," Damien commented, "and also the most vulnerable to a person's mind. How about we give him a little push to fulfill his wish?"

 Abra did not understand what he was referring to. The boy in black stared at the bald man very intently, as if looking at a riddle that was difficult for him to understand. Although, in reality, that subject could be many things, but not difficult to understand. He was a fairly common subject entirely… boring.

 Out of nowhere, the man shuddered as if he'd given a little shiver. He stood up straight and stared right ahead as if meditating on something deep, very deep. Abra noticed this change. She looked at Damien intending to ask him if he was doing it. He kept his attention on the man, and she didn't think it was a good idea to interrupt him.

 Suddenly, the bald man began to walk with a determined and firm step, in the direction of the promo girl, who now turned her back on him while talking to the other gentleman. Without a doubt or hesitation in his act, the man stood just behind the young lady and immediately brought his right hand towards his buttock, taking it firmly between his fingers.

 Abra held her breath when she saw this.

 The woman startled and immediately turned and stepped back. The bald man was still looking at her, his expression absent, as if he were not aware of where he was. This did not matter to the girl, because with good reason, she launched herself against him, beginning to hit him with both hands on his polished and shiny head. They couldn't hear what she was saying, but she seemed to be yelling at him all the insults in the manual. The man, confused as if he had just been awakened from a dream, awkwardly covered himself with his arms. The other client that the young lady attended, immediately approached him with a defiant attitude and took him from his suit, shaking him, and also giving him his dose of insults without a doubt. Others of the girls approached the affected young woman to support her. She didn't look scared or sad, but rather furious. Several more people, including a security guard, they approached the site. A few seconds later, they were pulling the man out.

 Abra couldn't help but giggle at the scene. It looked almost like something out of a bad Sunday comedy.

 "That was terrible," she exclaimed giggling.

 "You're laughing."

 "I didn't say it wasn't funny."

 Damien didn't laugh, but he did smile. But he did not do it so much because of what happened, but because of the reaction his companion had had.

 "That was a small thing. I can make them do bigger things."

 "Like what?"

 He regretted about say that as soon as he heard that question. "Like what?" That was definitely not something he wanted to answer. Did she want to know what he was able to make people do? No, she really didn't want to know.

 Then he felt her name floating in the air, reaching him from behind directly to the nape of his neck. It was not a sound as such. They never precisely sounded, except for those conversations he had with that girl he had just met. It was more like thoughts or feelings, but they were somewhat colder and more distant. He turned on his shoulder, then looked back down at the crowd. He could easily make out two men in black suits and glasses, making their way through the crowd, while constantly looking everywhere. Damien recognized them immediately.

 "They're my aunt's guards," he commented a little annoyed. "They must be looking for me."

 "Did you run away from her?"

 "Something like that." Then he stood up quickly. "Let's get out of this place."

 "From the Convention?"

 "Yes. Don't worry about your report. I'll tell you everything you need to know about Thorn Industries, my aunt, and their businesses."

 "How can I reject that offer?" Abra shrugged, and immediately stood up too and put her backpack on her shoulder. Damien started to walk in a bit of a rush toward the stairs, and she followed.

 Later that night, the young woman with the blond curls would question herself how it was that she had done all this so easily and without thinking it a bit first.

— — — —

 It was like a little spy adventure. Both of them sneaking their way through the crowd, trying to go unnoticed. Ann Thorn's alleged guards did not appear to be aware of their closeness at any time. Damien led his partner through the hallways toward the underground parking. Once there, everything felt more peaceful and quieter, as if the noise above their heads simply did not exist.

 "Do you have a vehicle?" Abra questioned as they walked among the parked vehicles.

 "We arrived here in a pair of vehicles from our company. We will borrow one."

 The company's pair of vehicles were actually three black vans of the year with the Thorn Industries logo on the sides of the doors. Three drivers were waiting there, although in those moments they had taken a moment to smoke, chat and check their cell phones. One of them, tall and stocky, perhaps too tall and stocky to be just a driver, was the first to notice that they were approaching. The man jumped almost scared, and immediately threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his shoe.

 "Mr. Thorn," he exclaimed in a respectful and somewhat self-conscious tone.

 "I'll take this car, Chuck," said the young man in black, pointing his thumb at one of the vans. The driver looked at the vehicle, somewhat puzzled.

 "But, Mrs. Thorn..."

 "My aunt is already aware," he interrupted abruptly and then held out his hand. "The keys?"

 The driver looked at the boy's white hand with an expression as if it had been pointed at him by a gun. In the end, however, he obeyed, taking the keys out of his pocket and handing them over. Abra found this whole scene strange. The fear or nervousness that this man, and incidentally his colleagues, showed, was a little more than the normal that would be expected from an employee to his boss. Or rather the son/nephew of his boss.

 Damien gladly took the keys. Then he took his wallet out of the inside pocket of his jacket and extracted a bill from it, which he extended to the driver to put in his shirt pocket.

 "For the inconveniences," the young man muttered, followed by a wink from his right eye. The man only thanked with a discreet nod of his head. Abra did not see how much that bill had been, but she would have sworn that she saw Benjamin Franklin's face for an instant."

 Damien walked without waiting to the driver's door.

 "Get in," he suggested cheerfully.

 Abra circled the vehicle to go to the passenger door. Another of the drivers rushed to open it.

 "Thank you," the young woman exclaimed as she climbed up and placed her backpack on her legs. The driver closed the door behind her, and she immediately put on her seat belt.

 Damien started the vehicle and, with remarkable dexterity, pulled it out of its park in a single movement. Then hurried toward the exit, a little faster than necessary. Abra smiled, amused at how exciting and new all this was for her.

— — — —

 They almost shot out of the convention center, and then Damien pushed his way through the city streets with the skill of a Nascar driver, but with relatively less speed. He didn't really know where he was going or what for; he was just letting himself go, without any plan or agenda, for a change.

 He still wasn't sure what to do with all the new information he had just received, or even what to do with the girl sitting next to him. He had too many intertwined thoughts and too many emotions that were not his own or his nature. But he would have plenty of time to deal with it already. For now, he just wanted to keep driving and enjoy that moment, until he couldn't do it anymore.

 "I don't think I've ever been in such an expensive car before," he heard Abra comment from his right hand. When Damien glanced sideways at her, she felt her hand run across the dark skin of the seat. "Just be sitting here, I feel intimidated."

 Damien smiled, amused by that reaction, which was actually not that unusual.

 "People are very intimidated by material things like these," he murmured sarcastically, staring at the road. "But at the end of the day, it is only plastic and metal, arranged differently and therefore give it more value."

 Abra chuckled incredulously.

 "Is the rich boy from the National Top 5 going to talk to me about not being materialistic?"

 Damien shrugged his shoulders.

 "Well, I won't lie. Money has its power, but there are more powerful forces that move more people."

 "Love or some similar kitsch?"

 The boy was silent, thoughtful for a moment.

 "Yes, something similar…"

 Abra did not insist much more on the subject; maybe it was just a minor comment that had come out. She hugged the backpack to herself, and turned to the window, watching the shops and people go by as they advanced. What exactly crossed that little blond head? Damien tried to focus on finding out but didn't sense anything. She had said something about a defense. He didn't think there really was anyone who could "defend" him completely. Surely if he pushed and insisted enough, he could get through it and see from the other side, but he didn't feel like doing such a thing right now. Not yet, at least.

 "So," the young woman began to pronounce, without taking her eyes off the window, "recapitulating, you read minds or something similar, you can influence dogs and people to do what you want, and just as I, you can see other places and people even if they are far from you. Anything else you want to share?"

 Another question that forced him to remain silent. There was only one other thing he could think of that he hadn't mentioned... one that he was still unable to fully understand. He could have omitted it, answered her question with a "no, nothing more," leaving that topic over. She would not know that he was lying to her because apparently he also had his own defense. But somehow his reasoning ended in trying something totally different: be a little more honest, at least to some extent.

 "There is something, but... I'm not sure how to describe it." His voice became much more serious, so much so that it baffled Abra a little. She turned to him again. He was staring at the road, with perhaps too much reverie. "Sometimes, if I focus enough, or sometimes without realizing it, things can happen around me."

 Abra raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

 "What kind of things?"

 "I don't know," he replied a little more jovially. "All kinds of things. Forget it, it's nothing."

 He waved his hand, trying to downplay the matter so that she would let it go. He didn't have to read her mind, or whatever, to know that she wasn't entirely convinced by it. But he didn't seem to intend to insist either. Either Abra Stone was not as curious as it seemed, or she simply did not want to over tempt her fate in that situation

 If she wanted more information, he wasn't entirely sure what he would have done. Perhaps then he would have to use some of the skills he had described to try to convince her the hard way to let him pass. Maybe she would have noticed, or maybe not. He didn't know how it would work for someone like her. But he would still try, all in order not to tell her that those things that were happening around him were, in fact, only bad things...

— — — —

 Their aimless walk took them up a hill on the outskirts of the city, a very convenient place to park and take a look at the whole panorama of the town; well, for that and for other things. The place was totally alone. It was relatively early, the sun was just beginning to go down, and the sky was slowly turning bright orange. Maybe there were no starry sky or city lights, but they definitely had a beautiful sunset in front of them.

 "This looks like a good place to take a picture," Abra commented, his hands and chin resting on the dashboard of the vehicle.

 "It's true," Damien seconded, leaning fully back in his seat. "But at the moment, I think I want to just enjoy it directly."

 He had placed the expensive camera in the backseat, possibly so it wouldn't get in the way while he drove. Indeed, he seemed to have no intention of taking it. He had his hands crossed over his legs, and his cold blue eyes reflected the hue of the sunset, making them actually look bright and warm, like lit in fire.

 Abra looked at him, resting her head a little on her hands. His profile was almost perfect. And, bathed in that orange light, he looked even more attractive if that was possible.

 The girl chuckled, almost gawking.

 "If my parents found out that I ran away from the convention in a complete stranger's car, they wouldn't let me go on another trip in my life."

 "You seem to be a girl who obviously knows how to take care of herself," Damien pointed out eloquently.

 "That is what I say." Abra sat straighter in her seat. Her gaze and tone became a little more cunning and mischievous, making her childish and innocent air that she had brought with her all day fade a little. "If you wanted to do something to me, it would definitely be awful for you, my friend."

 Damien smiled, amused.

 (It's a threat?)

 Abra shrugged slightly indifferently.

 (Take it as you like)

 And then there was silence. Neither said anything, neither with their mouth nor with their mind. They just looked at each other, trying to convey with their single pure gaze everything they needed to say. Even people who were not shining at all were sometimes able to make those kinds of immaterial connections with others. To look someone to eyes and simply know what they want. Of course, many times, people are somewhat insecure when trying to interpret this, and even more so when it comes to deciding how to react, or not react at all. But Damien Thorn was not insecure at all. He always knew what to do, how, and when to do it. And Abra's expression made it quite clear to him.

 The boy leaned carefully toward her, and Abra allowed it. The young woman's body pressed itself against her seat, not taking her eyes off the boy's deep blue eyes. Damien brought his face close to hers and did the same with his torso as the separation between the two seats made it possible. And, again, she allowed it.

 Abra looked at him, quite calmly, as if his presence so close meant nothing to her, but he knew it was not so. He could feel her heart beating faster and faster, and her cheeks were turning a very flirty pink. He advanced a little further, keeping his face at a fairly short distance. The young woman's eyes closed on their own, and a light sigh escaped from her lips. Damien could feel that warm sigh on his face. He did not cut the distance immediately; he let her to dive in the scent of his cologne and shampoo, and the sting of his own skin.

 The boy's right hand landed on her right thigh, subtly stroking the denim of her jeans. She also allowed it. He nullified the separation of their faces, giving her a kiss that was initially slow and delicate, barely noticeable by the touch of their lips. Still, it was almost like an electric shock that made Abra flinch slightly in her seat, but without hesitation, she reciprocated. Not only that, because it was precisely she who decided to suddenly apply a little more effort in the kiss and less delicacy. One of her hands went behind Damien's head and ran her fingers through his dark hair. Little sighs escaped from her, but he shut the majority up with his lips.

 The hand he had placed on her thigh continued in that place for a few more seconds, running up and down with its entire palm. However, it dared to climb a little higher, running her hip, then her side over her sweater, although the restless fingers managed to raise it a little in its path and lightly brush her skin with the yolks. They continued on their way on a regular basis. The hand climbed up her right side until it reached the height of her breast. His hand came to rest there, but not roughly or obscenely. It was like a warm caress, similar to if he had put it on her cheek, even though she had her clothes in between.

 Abra allowed it. She flinched slightly in the first second, but calmed down almost immediately and didn't even open her eyes. Now she had her two arms around the boy's neck, and she surrounded him as if she wanted to hug him and draw him closer to him.

 Damien tasted it with satisfaction, savoring her lips and the shape of her body. She was somewhat thin for his taste, and her breasts ranged from small to medium. A 60 out of 100 on his scale, if he had to give a grade. But he didn't really think about it at the time. There was something about her scent, her smell, her taste, or entire aura that was too attractive to him. Maybe it wasn't any of that, and it was just knowing that she really wasn't another ordinary and boring person. The knowledge that underneath that appearance of a normal girl without a very outstanding attractiveness, a powerful and dangerous force was hidden that he did not know. And the things he did not know about that world were really few, and therefore when he found one, he wanted to explore it and get to know it until it was boring again. And that's what he was doing at that moment.

 And it was then, while his mind moved between all those thoughts and sensations, and before he tried any other action beyond how far he had come, that Abra Stone abruptly… stopped allowing it.

 The blonde girl's eyes snapped open wide. Damien was not aware of this until Abra's hands moved away from him for a second, then placed on his chest and pushed him back and away from her with surprising force considering her complexion. Their kiss was broken, and the boy's body suddenly returned to the driver's seat. By the time the boy was able to react to the sudden change, he had noticed how the girl was now practically pressed against the door on her side and was staring at him silently. Her breathing fast, and her eyes almost wide.

 "What?" Damien questioned in a playful tone, accompanied by a small chuckle. "What happens?"

 He guessed right away that it would be the classic play of "This is not right," "I can't do it," "I'm not that kind of girl," or something similar. It didn't really matter. After all, getting people to do just what he wanted to do was perhaps one of his primary skills, whether it be by supernatural effect and not. And no girl could say an absolute "no" to him. He always just had to insist enough, and push the necessary buttons, in more ways than one.

 However, little by little, he realized how that girl was actually seeing him. There was no longer that same desire and longing in his eyes as there had been only moments ago. What he saw now was not amazement, guilt, or even fear. It was instead... horror, a deep-rooted and shocking horror that paralyzed her and made her stick against the door in an unconscious attempt to create more distance between them. In fact, if the door had not been there, it was likely that she would have crawled away on the floor. This horror was not because of what they were doing, nor what they were about to do after that. No, that expression was directly influenced by him... and only by him.

 Slowly, Damien's candid smile also faded, for he had already understood. He did not occupy using any kind of unique perception since her single face was clear enough for him. At that exact moment, perhaps that near-perfect defense she'd talked about came down at last for a second, or maybe the closeness so intense had made it easier for her. It didn't really matter what it had been, it only mattered that… she had seen it. She had seen what was hidden behind the barrier, and what she saw… had terrified her in every inch of her body.

 Damien's face hardened like a rock. He quickly approached her, and before she could react, he took her firmly by the wrist and pulled her toward him. Abra froze, unable to move her body to even take her eyes off him.

 "What did you see?" He asked her from the front, squeezing her wrist so hard it almost hurt her. "What did you see?! Tell me!"

 Abra remained unreacted for a while longer, even though he yelled and shook her. She uses all her strength and all her efforts to overcome, to get herself out of that lethargy. Her gaze also became hard, or rather aggressive, almost like that of a beast."

 "Let me go!!" She yelled loudly, and Damien's body was abruptly pushed back against the driver's door as if a horse had kicked him in the chest. The push was so strong that his head slammed into the glass of the door, splintering it into a cobweb, its center just at the point of impact.

 The young man's body collapsed onto the seat, and Abra didn't stay a second longer to check if he was still conscious or not. She opened her door as fast as he could, struggling a bit as her hands felt nervous and trembling. She fell almost flat on her face to the unpaved ground where they had parked, putting her hands and knees so as not to hit her face. She scratched her palms a little, but she didn't care. She stood up with awkward steps and began to run towards the road they had climbed. She hadn't taken more than five steps when she heard Damien behind.

 "Abra! Stop right now!" Damien's voice shouted with high power, but for a moment it seemed to her that it was not the only voice that was screaming. It was as if there was a more severe, stronger, and more threatening one accompanying his in the background.

 But it was not the scream that made her stop, but two dark figures that suddenly came in front of her, as if they had come out of nowhere. They were two dogs, large and dark, that barked loudly at her, and their barking rumbled like thunder. They growled, annoyed, and thick saliva ran from their snouts, falling to the ground below them. Their eyes were bloodshot, and despite being in the body of two dogs, they transmitted a great fury quite typical of humans.

 I can make some animals do what I tell them... mainly dogs.

 She turned cautiously back. Damien had already got out of the vehicle and was circling it with a firm, hurried step to head in her direction. Abra was surprised, or perhaps rather frightened, realizing that there was no trace of injury to his head after the blow he had received. Not a scrape, not a cut; nothing…

 Adrenaline ran through her body at thousand per minute. Her breathing became much heavier, and her heartbeat so hard that she thought it would end up exploding right there. And as this guy approached her, his eyes burning like coals, her condition only increased.

 That was just the perfect formula...

 "Get away from me! Don't touch me!!" Abra screamed with all her might, almost ripping her throat.

 Everyone seemed to shake a little. Damien felt himself being pushed back again, but now with much more intensity. It was no longer the kick of a horse, but rather the direct collision of a passenger bus. His body flew off, straight to the van. All the windows smashed into pieces as soon as his body touched it. The pieces of glass flew back as if blown by the wind. The boy's body dented the door from the force of the impact, and then he fell down onto the floor, staying there for a few moments.

 He was not the only one pushed. The two dogs blocking Abra's path also flew off, albeit in different directions. One of them collided with a tree on the side of the road, moaning in pain, and then falling to the ground to stay. The other went further, past the security fence and rolling a few meters down the hill.

 Once the path was clear, Abra did not hesitate for another moment and began to run like a hare fleeing from his predator. She ran and ran without looking back, and didn't stop until her legs couldn't take it anymore.

 Damien got up as best he could, leaning against the bruised vehicle. Puzzled and confused, he searched his gaze for the young woman. He made out her figure, running several meters away along the path next to the highway. He could have stopped her. If he had concentrated enough, he could have used hundreds of different measures to make her stop, fall, or perhaps worse.

 However, he didn't do it...

 Instead, he stood up straight and adjusted his hair and jacket. Wanting to adjust his tie, he realized that he was not wearing it, but he did not give it much importance. He circled the vehicle again and climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. With the same skill demonstrated earlier, he exited the small parking space. He took the road in the opposite direction that Abra had left.

 The boy was upset about that bad time, but his gratitude far outweighed it. After all, the information the girl had given him throughout their conversation was far more valuable than any "fun" act they might have had in that van. Now he had to go back to his reality, and face that information.

END OF CHAPTER 29

Author's Notes:

—The description made in this chapter of the powers of Abra and Damien is mainly a personal interpretation of what was shown in their own works. In Damien's case, in all three films (four if the 2006 remake is counted) and in Damien's series from 2016, his powers are always somewhat ambiguous about what he can do, how much, and to what extent exactly. The intention here was to give a little more base and clarity to these abilities, using as inspiration, of course, the different moments in which they were seen to make use of them, as well as some additions and my own adjustments. That is why it is likely that some people may feel that it does not entirely match what is shown in the original works. It should also be mentioned that what is described or shown in this chapter does not wholly cover the total of what both can do (especially Damien). Throughout the story, we will see both characters in more detail.