#i both connected with it more this time and felt oddly irritated by the lack of--as he says--individual personality

[ophelia-thinks]

But one must go beyond encircling flames. Ancestor worship is a process. The exact nature of the relationship between an ancestor and their descendant is always to be determined. The sun on the wall, to the right of the mirror, is hot, and in the shape of a portrait, from which individual personality has been effaced.

Brandon Shimoda, Hydra Medusa

[alyjojo]

May 🏋🏻 2024 Monthly - Libra

Preshuffle: You’re financially abundant and independent, ready to take on some goal you have in mind - could be related to travel, maybe for work. I get it’s really boring though, and not what you’re expecting. You’ll be irritated with the slowness of everything.

Meditation: You were in a ‘70s looking house (lots of yellow & orange), chatting away on a cord phone attached to a wall, with a big container of salt 🧂 that you were pouring down the kitchen sink with boiling water…oddly specific, apparently the salt is a thing - says Google. After that, you started talking about all of the bad VIBES and how you just wanted them to go away, and you salted your doors and windows before taking a handful and throwing it in the air to salt yourself too. Bad vibes be gone 💯 #saltbae

Main energy: Ace of Wands

Beautiful energy, kinda witchy even, with the meditation & Walrus talking about signs & omens. You’re in the middle of creating a whole new reality for yourself, with more passion, emotion, stability, clarity, you have all 4 Aces showing up - Pentacles being under The Magician at the bottom - who has all four Aces in his hand. You’re a magic maker this month. Your oracles again nod towards a trip, travel, getting to your destination, something about renting a car. Could be buying one too. You’re excited by this new possibility or purchase, Page of Pentacles clarifies as a contract, documents, a plan set in motion. I’m not sure how open you are about it yet, it looks like you’re waiting until the decision is made to actually speak up. Some of you could be finding romance with someone you’ve considered a friend, coworker, someone at school if you’re in school, it’s been casual & platonic.

What’s going on in May:

Ace of Cups:

You could be somewhat recently out of a past romantic connection and ready for the new, or there’s the potential for new showing up. The Magician at the bottom again could show you’re the one seeking something new. If not love, then something you do love, could be travel, a hobby, a new thing you’re studying, a new friend even - something that fills your heart with joy and love on some level. You’ve felt held back from being able to create this for yourself, either due to a lack of money, debt, or some leftover ick feelings from a past relationship. Not feeling worthy, abandonment issues, having to process the last thing that’s over with now. If you aren’t there yet, this reading shows you’re close, and that you can create whatever reality you desire for yourself.

Knight of Swords rev:

Your new person could live at a distance, this is someone you already love. Ace of Cups, 2 Cups, you’re smitten with this person. You may not know how to move this forward, Temperance shows a need for patience that you probably don’t have but also don’t have a choice. SEX is heavy on the brain, you’re obsessed with this person, seeing them as Queen of Wands with The Devil on the bottom. Could even be mutual with 2 Cups here, an equal obsession between two people that can’t keep their hands to themselves 😍 This goal or travel would be to see them. There may not be much communication about this, it’s just known, or your guards are up emotionally…maybe both of you.

Justice:

Ah, you’ve missed your opportunity before, that’s why you’re so OBSESSED with making things happen this time. Probably because of money, that seems to be the main reason coming out for you. Could just be a vacation you’re taking. This time though, things 👏 are 👏 happening! The decisions have been made, contracts or reservations are scheduled, I don’t think anything could stop you this time. You feel like this is something you’re meant to do, it lights a fire under your butt with Page of Wands, in a way most things can’t. It’s like feeling alive again 🔥

Page of Wands:

There’s a lot of communication between you and someone, maybe everyone, once a decision has been made. 9 Pentacles at the bottom, Justice is here, it could be a divorce going through - if so it’s taken awhile and has cost a lot of money. You could be free to be with the person you clearly already love. The distance could be literal for someone, but in this case it’s more of an emotional/legal wedge between you, being unable to be truly *theirs* or vice versa, someone has been otherwise engaged, legally. Through whatever blocks or missed opportunities, you’ve felt conflicted about how long something is taking, whether it was really going to end the way you hoped/thought it would, kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop. You could be apprehensive about this person being “single” now, or switch that, because…well marriage can be like being in chains ⛓️ when you don’t want to be in it. It’s not likely or common for someone to be free of the shackles and jump right back in ya know, that’s almost silly. Unless you’re famous or something, then it’s just a normal Wednesday.

Ace of Swords:

A conversation is due, I see a lot of that going on this month. Passionate, planning, honest, revealing or enlightening even - transparent communication. Truth. Saying the thing that needs to be said, that maybe you’ve avoided for some time while other things were going on. Something has blocked you before, money, other people, legalities and contracts, but I’m seeing the green light 🚦 for you now, and…depending on who is who, there’s no rush. There’s a *desire* for rushing, but the energy is more about a sigh of relief. Whew, finally. Knight of Cups clarifies with 10 Wands, this is romantic action being a burden. It’s felt, there’s genuine love, reciprocated even. But there’s pressure to go from 0 to 100 and someone here is like no…not a chance. But it’s not personal. Still, holding every Ace is powerful energy, you can go ahead and quietly celebrate your wins while also maintaining a level head and doing what’s best for you (or them). I’m not sure if sex is actually on the table, that may be disappointing. Could be, someone is obsessing over it, and has been. On the other hand, if it’s pressured then it’s coming off as a red flag 🚩 This could be like a friends with benefits thing and there’s finally a chance to shoot your shot, or switch it. Do you have a reservation for a person? 😆 There’s no rush, maybe inform them of that too. Otherwise, all your goals are a go 👍

Signs you may be dealing with:

Sagittarius, Cancer, Aries, Virgo & Leo

Oracle: ✨

Goal 📈

Purpose - Expectation - Destination

Reservation 🚘

Desire - Worth - Extravagance

Walrus 🦭

“Remain vigilant about the current situation; pay attention to signs and omens, and let them dictate your choices.”

Signs and omens show up in myriad ways, from the wind’s rustle of the trees that make it seem as if they’re whispering to you at a barely audible level, to the rainbow that appears just before an event in which you’re participating. When you’re pondering any kind of question about your life purpose, relationships, career, or even everyday concerns such as whether to actually take the vacation that you’d been planning, you can ask Spirit to give you clear and specific signs. Then watch, listen, feel, and allow thoughts to flow. While you may not always get absolutely clear responses, more often than not you’ll pick up on signs or flies through your eyes, ears, sensations in your body, or thoughts that seem to come out of the blue. You may even have remarkably lucid dreams that you can easily recall in the morning.

Look for the unusual and repetitious. For example, if you hear someone at the supermarket talking about Phoenix (auditory); spot a billboard advertisement with the word Phoenix prominently displayed (visual); and then recall a period of time when you lived in that city, feeling a calmness and joy (sensations) when you bring up that memory (cognitive), these are all clues. It could be about the city of Phoenix, Arizona. Or it could be a subtle way that the spirit guide is offering you their help when you’re ending one cycle completely and beginning another, like the metaphor of the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Omens are perceived in the four ways mentioned. Journal about anything you find significant, and look for repetition. When you see an animal showing up repeatedly, Spirit is with you. Trust the signs and your discernment of them, they’re a personal and significant way Spirit helps guide you along your path. Your Spirit knows how to get *your* attention 🙏

We enter into May as:

Shrinking Violet 😥

“I don’t trust my intuition.”

Are you retreating from a situation that could bring you success? We all abandon projects that seemingly lack merit. However, Shrinking Violet indicates you may not be trusting your intuition, which is mostly likely on target. Choose three people to ask advice from, then take their advice, throw it out the window and go with your gut. There is every indication you should complete the task at hand. Block yourself off from thoughts of what will happen at the completion stage. Stay the process, don’t worry about the ending, or results, don’t be frightened. Just continue on.

What is to be learned in May:

Sun Sparkler 🎇:

“Integrity is what turns on the light.”

Sun Sparkler reminds us that it is through kindness to others and being of service that we are abundant. Are you living your life as fully as you can? Are you being honest and kind to others? Do you hold the door open for people on the elevator, or let it close? Do you let people merge over in traffic, or pretend not to see them? When we put a blinder on one area of life, it creates the same blind spot in every area. You can’t shut out pain without shutting out pleasure too. Sun Sparkler reminds you of the miracle of honesty, it leads to integrity. You may have done work for another but do not expect a reward, revel in alignment with Spirit, self-esteem is the gift. You’ve been elevated to a new level spiritually, continue to serve others and life will prosper beyond your wildest dreams.

Yellow may be a lucky color 💛

[deitysnips]

Regrettably Attached Pt. 1

Stark!Reader x Loki

Word Count: 2958

Authors Note: I wanna thank you guys in advance for reading this. I haven’t written anything in probably 6 years so it might be a little sloppy. I am open to suggestions and any fixes you guys can bring to my attention!

Summary:; You’re Tony Stark’s younger sister and you are somewhat part of the Avengers, but behind the scenes, not necessarily on the front lines unless you’re needed. This is an UA where Loki is living in the compound living under strict supervision and the reader slowly starts falling for the God of Mischief after hating him due to, yaknow, trying to kill her brother and some of her closest friends, but that quickly turns into lovers(obvi)

Growing up as Tony’s sister was and still is kind of terrifying. Tony has always been such a “smarty pants” for lack of a better phrase. Even with him being a child prodigy, you two have always been close and you would want it any other way. You grew up following in his and your fathers footsteps.

Years past and you have graduated with multiple engineering degrees and even though your mother and father weren’t here to see it, Tony always made sure you knew how proud they would be of you. No graduation, presentation or ceremony went unattended by the now Iron Man. So it was no surprise when Tony asked you to join him and the other Avengers at the compound to help with logistics and help Tony and Bruce create safer suits.

“Hey Kid! Get down here, we need your help!” 

It’s been 5 years that you’ve been living with Tony and still, nothing surprises you.

“Hold on! I just got out of the shower!” You shouted from your cracked bedroom door. You quickly put on some extremely worn jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt that you MIGHT have stolen from your older brother. You cracked open the door once more and yelled to Tony

“Is this a no shoes project?!” You sat with your head out the door tapping your fingers along the door frame when someone threw what seemed to be a wad of paper at the back of your head. You groaned and sucked air through your teeth. “I swear to the gods, Rogers, if you don’t stop throwing shit, I’m gonna curb stomp you” You said as you turned your head to send a glare towards Steve. To your unpleasant surprise, it was not Steve, but the annoying, somewhat attractive God Of Mischief, Loki

“Oh, my dear, Mr. America isn’t the only one who likes to get under your skin” Loki said very nonchalantly while leaning against his own door frame. “Now if you don’t mind. Stop that obnoxious yelling. Some of us are actually trying to work and not be babied by their dear brother.” Loki glared at you from where he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. 

You and the god have never been on good terms, even after the pleading Thor gave you when he brought him back from Asgard after its destruction. You wanted to believe him when he said that his brother had changed and was working towards being a better ‘person’, but it still left an unpleasant taste in your mouth since, you know, he tried to kill your brother.

“Get fucked, Loki.” You stepped out of your room, body completely turned towards the man in front of you. “I have told you multiple times to leave me alone. Tony might be okay with you being here, but I certainly don’t give a shit what happens to you.” You spat at him with venom and malice in your voice. Tony told you time and time again to try to be civil with Loki, but you never listened. You just couldn’t. 

You continued to stare at the slimy, yet oddly handsome man-god thing in front of you and if looks could kill, he wouldn’t be breathing.

“Hey, kid, did you not hear the urgency in my voice or do you enjoy giving me a heart attack?” You jumped when you felt your brother out his hand on your shoulder. “I told you that yes, you did need shoes. Bruce and I really need your help on the Mark VII suit- wait, sis, are you alright?” Tony studied your face after turning your shoulder towards him with a worried expression

“Yeah, I’m fine Tony. Let me just grab my shoes and I’ll be down” You pulled away from your brother and ran into your room, slamming the door behind you. You sit with your back against your door and hide your face in your hands, groaning loudly.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” You whisper softly to yourself. You’ve been at such a crossroads when it comes to the trickster god. You hate him for what he did to Tony and your friends, but at the same time, you can’t help but have this… attraction to him. The sharpness of his jawline, the softness in his bright blue eyes, or the way his lips curl up into a cheeky little smirk when he does something that riles you up. It’s been a year and a half since Thor brought Loki back, and you still haven’t adjusted.

You let out a long sigh of frustration as you stand up and walk to your closet pulling out a loved pair boots. After you pull your shoes on, you finally find the strength to walk out of your room and start heading towards the workshop to find Tony and Bruce. You make a pitstop to the kitchen to grab some coffee and a small snack

“Hey FRIDAY, can you ask if Tony and Bruce want anything?” You call out into the empty room while making a PB&J sandwich”

“They both say nothing at the moment other than your presence, Miss. Stark. Mr. Stark said it is very urgent and they need you down there quickly” 

You groan as you toss the butter knife into the sink and start walking down the stairs to the workshop. Once you enter you see Bruce leaning over one of the tablets with his hands running through his hair.

“Alright, what did I miss?” you say as you take a bite of your sandwich, causing the men to look up at you, seemingly irritated. “Whoa whoa boys, what the hell?” You raise an eyebrow at your brother who’s sitting across from Bruce, impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk. Tony sighs and stands up to walk over to his computer, pulling up the internals of the suit

“For whatever reason, the suit keeps overheating after about 10 minutes and we cannot for the life of us figure out why” Bruce says while Tony is flipping through all the internals for you. You can’t help but smile and giggle a little bit.

“Alright kid, what's so funny? Tony asks, slightly glaring in your direction.

“Oh no, nothing. Nothing at all. But, uh, unrelated, how long have you guys been working on this?”

“A couple h-” Tony goes to speak but is interrupted by the suit powering up, seemingly without issues.

“Big brother, you’re a terrible liar. When I woke up yesterday morning, you both had already been down here working on it. It was a simply missing variable and a loose connection.” Tony and Bruce both keep switching between the suit and their respective computers trying to figure out how they missed such a small thing.

“How the fu-” “LANGUAGE!” Steve yells out as he stares coming down the stairs. Tony rolls his eyes and starts going through the internals again before smacking his palm to his forehead. “Thanks kid”

“No problem old man, now go get some rest.” You say, patting Tony on the back.

“Hey, can I talk to you really quick, Squeak?” You groan loudly at the nickname that the team gave you when you first showed up. You were so nervous about making a good impression, that when you started to speak, all of your words got stuck in your chest and all that came out was a little squeak.

“Yeah Cap, maybe if you stop calling me that god awful nickname, like I've told you to do multiple times!” You both start walking up the stairs and you playfully push Rogers shoulder, knowing it won’t do much. 

Once you make it up the stairs, Steve leads you to the living room and sits at the couch across from your favorite chair

“Alright, if this is an intervention, I’m leaving. I get I shouldn’t be smoking bu-” You stop talking when Steve lifts his hand up and just stares at you with a dumbfounded look “This isn’t an intervention, but maybe it should be- yo- what?!” Steve gets a little loud at the end of his sentence, catching the attention of Tony and Thor who are in the kitchen making some lunch

“STEVE SHUT UP” You blush slightly and hide your face in your hands again.

“Conversation for another time, anyways” Steve pulls your hands away from your face and makes you look at him and quietly says your name “What was going on earlier when Tony came up stairs? I was in the bathroom down the hall and I heard you yelling at someone? Was it Loki again?” You avoid eye contact but nod slightly. Steve lets out a small sigh and sits back

“What he did wasn’t even terrible, Cap. He threw a ball of paper at me and basically told me to shut up. I just get so irrationally angry at him for what he tried to do to my family. Tony is all I have left. I know that everyone has told me to make nice and just fake it for the sake of all of us being here almost all the time, but I can’t. I'm just so confused and..” You stop yourself and look up at Steve who is intently listening.

“What are you confused about, doll?” He raises an eyebrow and you start blushing again.

“I- I don’t wanna talk about it..” You whisper softly and glance over to where Tony and Thor are at. As much as Tony begs you to be nice and try to be civil, he would not hesitate to beat your ass if he found out that you were harboring a crush for the trickster. Steve leans in and whispers

“I think I know. I may be from a different time, but I know a crush when I see it.” He pulls back and smiles at you and for whatever reason, this makes you angry.

“WHAT?! You think I have a little schoolgirl crush on that fucking murderer?! HE TRIED TO KILL TONY MULTIPLE TIMES!” You yelled at Steve as you stood up, tears stinging your eyes “I would NEVER mess with the likes of Loki, whether he's a God or a prince of whatever the hell he is!”

“Squeak, now hold on-”

“No, Rogers- Leave me alone!” You storm away from him and go up the stairs leading to your bedroom. Once you get to your door, another wad of paper is thrown in your direction, but this time you catch it. Turning towards where the paper had come from, was he himself.

“Hello, darling. I heard you and Rogers speaking about me” He smirks ever so slightly and starts slowly sauntering over to you. Once he gets close to you, you pull a dagger out of the sheath around your thigh and press the tip to his chest

“I suggest you leave me the hell alone, you psychopath.” You grit your teeth as you finish your sentence and Loki puts his hands up in defeat and takes a few steps back

“My my, little one. I didn’t know you could be so feisty.” He chuckles slightly and crosses his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to have a civil conversation and see if we can come to an understanding about where my loyalties lie and try to get your tiny Midgardian brain to understand that I’m not the same person I was.. Before” 

You sheath your dagger and pinch the bridge of your nose hopeful to fight off your frustration.

“Look, Loki. You may not realize the severity of what you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna accept that you’re some righteous person-god- whatever the hell you are.”

“Oh, good heavens, no. I’m not righteous whatsoever, darling. Never have been, never will be. But” He points a finger at the ceiling and smiles “I can promise you that I do not plan to murder anyone… in this building” 

You smirk softly at the humor in the tricksters voice and cross your arms over your chest. 

“So how about that conversation?” You gester to him to come in your room but when you look back at his face he has a rather dumbfounded look on his face

“What a minute, 45 seconds ago you had a bloody dagger to my chest, ready to skin me alive, but now you want me to come into your room with you?” Loki walks closer to you slowly still with that dumb look on his face.

You place your hand back on your dagger and laugh “Just because I’m inviting you into my room, doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to stab you if you give me a reason to.” You wink at him and walk into your room, where you kick off your shoes and lounge in the recliner at the far corner of your room. 

The rooms at the compound were not small by any means. Each room has a giant California king size bed, a double walk-in closet, its own little mini fridge, plus enough room to have 2 Hulks lay side by side on the floor.

You have yours decorated in your signature color, with white accents on the furniture as well as copious amount of liquor bottles on the top of your bookshelf.

Loki saunters in after a few seconds and takes a seat on your bed, directly in front of you. It seems like he’s… admiring you? He won’t look away and seems to be studying your face, how your wavy hair falls softly from the messy bun on the top of your head, how your eyes sparkle with the sun coming through the windows, how your lips are just a subtle rosy color, indicating that you either suck of chew on them when frustrated.

“Are you gonna say anything or are you just gonna sit here and stare at me all day?” You blush softly and stare right back at him

“My dear, if I may be rather brash, it just seems like something seems of worry to you, my apologies. But, yes, where would you like me to begin?”

You and Loki sat there for 3 or 4 hours talking about what really happened when Loki invaded New York, what happened to his mother and how Asgard was completely destroyed by his and Thor’s elder sister. Half way through the conversation, you had pulled down a rather nice bottle of Whiskey and two rocks glasses, pouring both of you a drink while Loki was reliving what he described to be the most painful part of his life. There you sat with the man you had sworn to hate until your last breath, actually feeling sorry for judging him so harshly. But who can blame you?

“Wow” You said after he had finally finished. You looked down at your glass and it was empty. While Loki was explaining everything to you, you had finished 4 or 5 full glasses of whiskey and were starting to feel a little tipsy

“Loki, I am so indecently sorry. All of the times Thor and I had talked about what happened, he never once told me how hard you took everything.”

Loki scoffed a little and looked at his glass “Well, my story really isn’t for my brother to tell, and he never really understood my feelings on the matter. I never really spoke to him about it. It was really only me on my own.” He shrugged softly and finished what liquor he still had in his glass “I really hope this changes your viewing of my, darling. I truly meant what I said. I have zero intentions of harming anyone in this compound.”

You shook your head a little and pushed the hair that had fallen into your face back “But why tell me all of this? Why tell the one person who probably hates you the most in the tower all of your worries and how at fault you feel?” You looked up from your glass when he chuckled.

“My dear, I know you don’t truly hate me. You hate what I did to your brother and the Avengers.” He leaned forward to be at eye level with you and spoke very softly “Do not forget, little one. I can read minds, you know” He winked at you and sat back in his chair

“I- you what now?!” You sat up straight and your face became very flushed. How could you have been so naive? Thor had mentioned it a couple of times that he believes his brother could read thoughts, but you never took it to heart.

“Miss. Stark, it seems as so Mr. Stark is worried about you. He has no idea where you are and I didn’t think to make him privy of your location.” FRIDAY interjected before you or Loki could say anything regarding the mind reading matter.

“Thanks, FRIDAY, can you tell him I’m up in my room? I don’t think I’ll be able to walk after the amount of alcohol I’ve drank” You chuckled slightly and rubbed your face with your hands.

“Right away Miss. Stark. Oh, it seems as if your brother is coming to see you.” 

You internally began slightly panicking because as much as Tony wanted you to be civil, I don’t think he would want you damn near wasted with the God Of Mischief in your room.

“I shall be on my way, darling” Loki stood up and walked over to you. He rests his hands on the back of your chair and soon your face to face.

“Conversation for another time” He quickly places a kiss to your cheek before disappearing in a green cloud.

What the fuck is happening?

[bevioletskies]

(i’m caught between) goodbye and i love you

summary: Sometimes, Klavier thinks a little too much about how he never knew the last time he saw Apollo was going to be the last time he saw Apollo. So, when Apollo finally returns home from Khura’in, Klavier finds himself stuck, unsure of when to finally tell Apollo how he feels - especially when it seems like Apollo isn’t quite ready to confess, either.

word count: 16.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day seven of seven (prompt: "catharsis"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

Mild spoiler warning for Spirit of Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol and one scene where a character has a panic attack. Fic title is from the song (I'm Caught Between) Goodbye And I Love You by the Carpenters.

“What do you think, Gavin, which do you - hey, Gavin? Are you listening?”

Klavier startled at the sound of Apollo’s voice, too lost in his own thoughts to realize someone had been talking to him. He looked over at Apollo, who was standing underneath one of the courthouse’s most prolific picture windows, practically glowing in the early afternoon sun. Klavier’s breath hitched at the sight. “Ah - my apologies, Herr Forehead, I didn’t catch that. What were you saying?”

“Ema said we should all do something that doesn’t involve murder for once.” Apollo looked up from his phone, wincing. “Er, that is, something that doesn’t involve solving a murder for once. She suggested drinks, though Kay apparently prefers laser tag. As if I don't get enough bumps and bruises from helping Trucy out on weekends.”

“Ah, the life of a magician’s brother,” Klavier teased, smiling easily. “But, wait - do you mean to say Fräulein Detective actually wants to hang out with me? Or are you inviting me? Either way, I find it hard to believe.”

“No one’s more surprised than me,” Apollo drawled. “But seriously, Ema says Kay is making her ask you through me, ‘cos that totally makes sense. Anyway, drinks or laser tag? Or, y’know, both? They’re thinking this weekend since they’re going to some forensics convention next weekend. Did not know those existed. Do you think they give out swag bags full of fingerprint powder?”

“I would advise against it if they did,” Klavier said, chuckling. He then slipped his hands into his pockets, shooting Apollo an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Forehead, you’ll have to have a good time without me. I have a dentist appointment, some meetings...you know how it is. Maybe next time, ja?”

“Sure, I’ll let you know whenever that is,” Apollo replied with a nonchalant shrug; he sent a quick text, presumably to Ema, then pocketed his phone. “Anyway, I should go find Mr. Wright and head back to the agency. So, uh...see you when I see you, I guess.”

“Auf Wiedersehen, baby,” Klavier said, winking. Apollo rolled his eyes, turning on his heel and striding away, waving Klavier off over his shoulder. “Don’t have too good a time without me, though, ja?” Apollo’s wave instantly turned into a middle finger.

Barely two weeks later, Klavier found himself replaying the rather mundane conversation in his head over and over again as he walked into his superior’s office, his hands shoved into his pockets to hide how hard they were shaking. “Willkommen zurück, Herr Edgeworth. How was your flight? Smooth, I hope.”

“Smoother than what conspired in Khura’in, to be sure,” Edgeworth replied, neatly setting his teacup down in its saucer. “Don’t worry, Prosecutor Gavin, I’m still getting everything in order. I doubt you’ll have much work to do today, bar any last-minute cases coming in.”

“Danke, sir, good to know.” Klavier glanced briefly in the direction of Edgeworth’s custom chessboard, his red knights and blue pawns, just so he wouldn’t have to look at its owner’s steely gaze. “So, er - ”

“Out with it, Prosecutor Gavin,” Edgeworth said, sighing wearily. “I can tell you have something on your mind. I’m afraid I can’t give you the exact details of what happened, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Ah - ja, I know, I - I was just wondering if…” Klavier hesitated. “...if everyone is...okay. Safe and sound, so to speak.”

Edgeworth’s face softened. “Yes, everyone’s perfectly fine. Wright, Ms. Fey, Ms. Cykes, and Trucy are all fine.”

Klavier blinked. “Wait, but - what about Herr Fore - Herr Justice? What...did he…”

“I should have known that was who you were really curious about,” Edgeworth said knowingly, looking at Klavier over the tops of his glasses. His expression, gentle, almost sympathetic, made Klavier’s stomach churn. “Mr. Justice decided to stay behind in Khura’in indefinitely. He’s looking to help rebuild their legal system from the ground up.”

Klavier felt as if his heart had dropped right through to the floor. “He’s...he’s not coming back?” He could barely hear the sound of his own voice over the rush of his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Eventually, perhaps, but not anytime soon,” Edgeworth replied. “My apologies, Prosecutor Gavin. I know you two were…”

“Close?” Klavier let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Nein, not at all. We were barely even friends.”

Edgeworth straightened up in his seat, and then, to Klavier’s astonishment, removed his glasses. It was unnerving to see such warmth in his superior’s eyes, especially when he knew Edgeworth didn’t think much of him in the first place. Not after what had happened all those years ago, even though it hadn’t really been him. “Let me amend my previous statement, then. I know you two had a...connection of sorts.”

“Ja, through...through someone I’d rather not talk about.” Klavier cleared his throat. “Danke for letting me know, Herr Edgeworth. It’s...good to see Herr Justice making something of himself.”

“He's definitely an admirable young man,” Edgeworth replied, nodding slowly. “I can see why Wright took a liking to him. I can see why you took a liking to him.”

“Ah, well,” Klavier said, coughing again. “Anyway, I should leave you to it, sir. Have a good rest of your day, ja? I’ll be in my office if anything comes up.”

“Of course.” Edgeworth neatly slid his glasses back on, then turned his attention to his work laptop. “Take care, Prosecutor Gavin.” Nodding at the dismissal, Klavier bowed his head and left Edgeworth’s office, his footsteps noticeably heavier than they’d been when he first entered it. He took a few heaving breaths, then shut himself in his own office and let out a small, silent sob.

_____

“I see you’re moping again, Gavin-dono. Must be a day that ends in ‘y’.”

“Bitte, Herr Blackquill, I’m perfectly fine,” Klavier said, clutching his mug of tea a little tighter than necessary. “My trial yesterday? Perfekt. The weather during my morning run earlier today? Perfekt. The leftovers I brought for lunch today? Perfekt, so long as Herr Payne doesn’t break the microwave again before I get there...I don’t know how he manages to do that on a weekly basis. Anyway, as you can see, I’ve never been better.”

“What a sad testament to your mental state if that were true.” Simon dropped into the seat opposite him, his hands resting on top of the breakroom table, his intense gaze focused on Klavier’s face. Klavier didn’t find him as intimidating as everyone else did, especially not after he’d witnessed Simon sing a drunken duet with Kay, entirely unprompted, at an office holiday party. No amount of threats or glares could get Klavier to delete the video evidence off his backup hard drive. “Luckily for you, it’s entirely false. You’ve been acting strangely for weeks now, and I know the reason why.”

“Do you really?” Klavier sipped his tea. “I thought you didn’t, quote-unquote, ‘care to stick your nose in my absurd affairs’. After all, I’m the silly one of the prosecutor’s office, am I not?” Simon cocked his head slightly, perplexed. “Ah, that Prosecutor Gavin, what an odd one he is. All style and no substance, always speaking in that accent that no one believes is real, always spouting nonsense and song lyrics and little else.”

“Self-hatred doesn’t suit you, so I suggest you cease this pitiful act at once,” Simon said, frowning. “You’re a confident man, Gavin-dono. I’d even say your confidence is fully justified, foppish nature aside. And yet, here you are, torn up over Justice-dono’s absence like a heartbroken teenager.”

“I am not torn up,” Klavier sniffed, setting his mug down with a sharp clunk. “I’m happy to hear that Herr Forehead has found his true calling. A far cry from the loud, nervous rookie he was when we first met. Now, he’s just loud.”

“...hmph. Yes, that piercing voice of his certainly rivals Taka’s,” Simon replied, taking a moment to scratch the underside of his bird’s chin. Klavier didn’t like the way Taka was eyeing his hair; he suspected Taka was fighting against his instincts to make a nest.

“Maybe still a little nervous.” Klavier paused. “I imagine seeing him stand in a Khura’inese court must be quite...something.”

“I didn’t sit here with the intention of listening to you dance around your romantic feelings towards Justice-dono, you know,” Simon informed him. “It’s exhausting and pointless, and a waste of my time.”

Klavier averted his eyes from Simon’s face, finding himself oddly fascinated with a water stain on the opposite wall, right beside the notice board. “Why did you sit here, then?”

“Because...I know a lonely person when I see one.” Simon let the silence linger for a moment; Klavier wasn’t sure which of them favored dramatic pauses more. “Even Athena told me you seemed...not yourself. Though you’ve been performing your prosecutorial duties just fine, she said you were distant...distracted. Is it the lack of companionship, perhaps?”

“You and Herr Edgeworth seem to be under the impression that Forehead and I were friends,” Klavier said evenly, his tone growing increasingly irritated. “The truth is, Herr Blackquill - since you seem unusually interested for someone who barely says two words to me most mornings - that Apollo was my friend, but I wasn’t his. Is that what you wanted to hear? Has your analysis of my psyche scratched your itch?”

Like Edgeworth, Simon’s face almost seemed to soften. “I had no desire to rile you up, but...I see that I’ve done it, anyway. I see that I’ve overstepped. Forgive me, Gavin-dono.” Klavier looked up at him, stunned. Simon merely stood, smoothing out the front of his coat. Even Taka’s expression seemed apologetic. “Find someone to talk to, if you haven’t already; it will do you a world of good. I heard many a story from my fellow prisoners by simply offering to lend an ear. I think you’d find the process of opening up to be quite...illuminating. Freeing, even.”

“I’m sure I would.” Klavier took another sip and said nothing else.

_____

“Mr. Gavin! I thought I saw you in the audience, but I couldn’t believe it!”

Laughing, Klavier held out the bouquet of red roses in his arms for her to take. “Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, fräulein, what a perfect way to celebrate your eighteenth. You were as magical as ever, though who would ever expect any less?”

Beaming, Trucy accepted his flowers, then practically launched herself right at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He barely managed to catch her in time. “Thank you so much! Ah, these are so beautiful - and they smell great, too!” She stepped back, taking a generous whiff before exhaling happily. “Hey, do you wanna drop by my dressing room for a sec? I have to go sign autographs and stuff, but I’m sure Athena would love to say hi!”

“Sure,” Klavier agreed. “Lead the way.” He followed Trucy down the backstage corridor, coming to a stop in front of a door with a gold nameplate in the shape of a silk top hat. Klavier involuntarily shuddered; the Gramarye seal had always been a sore spot for him, no matter how many good memories outweighed the bad. Trucy opened the door, revealing that it wasn’t just Athena who was waiting inside, but a whole group of people - Athena, the two Fey women whose names Klavier vaguely remembered from Trucy’s stories, Detective Gumshoe, and an odd, almost sad-looking girl wearing a traditional costume. However, Klavier’s eyes went straight to the two people conversing by Trucy’s dressing table - Phoenix Wright and Vera Misham.

Phoenix turned at the sound of the door opening. His eyes widened slightly when he saw who it was. “This is becoming a real party now, hey, Truce?” he teased, lightly ruffling his daughter’s hair. Trucy stuck her tongue out at him, then went to carefully place Klavier’s flowers among the dozens of others by her costume rack. Phoenix’s expression tightened somewhat. “Prosecutor Gavin, it’s - it’s good to see you. Trucy swore she spotted you in the audience, but I guess my eyes were never as sharp as hers.”

“I know her party is tomorrow, but I wouldn’t dare pass up the chance to watch her birthday extravaganza,” Klavier said smoothly. He felt as if Vera’s eyes were burning holes in the side of his face.

“So you’re Prosecutor Gavin, huh?” The older Fey woman - Maya, if Klavier remembered correctly - sidled right up to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Trucy and Athena have told me all about you. I hear you’re different from the other prosecutors me and Nick had to deal with back in the day!”

The door opened behind Klavier. “Are you talking about us, Maya Fey?” He turned on his heel to see Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma standing in the doorway, both impeccably dressed as always, carrying identical bouquets of white lilies and blue delphinium in their arms.

“Auntie Franzy!” Trucy shrieked, barreling across the room to toss herself into Franziska’s arms, much like she had done to Klavier just moments ago. “Daddy said you weren’t gonna fly in until tomorrow!”

“And miss your performance? I would be a foolishly foolish fool if I did,” Franziska huffed, kissing Trucy on the cheek. “You will receive the rest of our presents tomorrow. I hear your fool of a father refuses to let you wear makeup despite the fact that you’d like to, and I am here to rectify that parenting mistake. You’re eighteen now, after all; you should be able to do as you please.”

“Within reason,” Edgeworth added, shooting Franziska a withering look. “Don’t encourage her too much, Franziska. I think we're all too familiar with Trucy’s...imagination.”

“Miles Edgeworth, how dare you question my - ”

Klavier quickly retreated into a corner of the dressing room as everyone’s voices grew louder and louder; clearly, his presence had been completely forgotten. He spotted the younger Fey woman, Pearl, conversing with the sad-looking girl - Jinxie, he heard her name was - while Maya and Detective Gumshoe chatted happily with Edgeworth and Franziska. Trucy had left to sign autographs for her fans, leaving Phoenix to turn back to Vera, who was still eyeing Klavier warily.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Klavier startled suddenly at the sound of Athena’s voice. He turned to see her perched on the vanity, legs swinging over the edge, smiling at him encouragingly. “You seem a little lost, Prosecutor Gavin. Everything okay?”

Sighing, Klavier leaned against the wall, glancing down at the toes of his Doc Martens. “Don’t tell me Herr Blackquill asked you to keep an eye on me.”

“Hardly!” Athena exclaimed; she almost seemed offended by his insinuation. “You just seem a little...quiet, that’s all.”

“Well…” Klavier looked back up, shooting her a stilted smile. “Everyone here is either someone I don’t know, someone I work with, or someone whose life I ruined. Forgive me for feeling a little...cornered.”

“C’mon, you didn’t ruin their lives,” Athena said, hopping down so she could lightly punch him in the arm. “I heard the whole story from Apollo ages ago, and he says it wasn’t you. He says you were just a…a schachfigur in someone else’s game.”

“A pawn, in other words.” Klavier chuckled despite himself. “Ja, if you want to be generous about it...or if you want to say that I’m easily swayed. Did Herr Forehead really say that?”

“He sure did! He talks about you all the time,” Athena added with an enthusiastic nod. “I mean, you annoy him - a lot - but he’s always mentioning how decent and honest you are. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think, well...nah, probably not.”

“Probably not,” Klavier echoed, trying his best to ignore his racing heart. The last thing he wanted to do was have hope. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be sticking around much longer. Don’t want to get in the way.”

“Huh? You’re not getting in the way of anything!” Athena protested. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

Klavier shook his head, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up, smoothing out the creases in his hoodie. “Nein, I should make an early night of it. I have to meet my personal trainer bright and early, after all. But I’ll see you at Trucy’s party tomorrow, ja?”

Athena hesitated. “Ja, of course,” she chirped, plastering on an uncertain smile. “And hey, if you ever need a running partner, you have my number!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Klavier promised, surprising himself by how true that was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone running with someone who wasn’t his personal trainer. “Gute Nacht, fräulein.”

“G’night,” Athena said, squeezing his shoulder before letting him go. Nodding, Klavier deftly weaved his way through the crowded dressing room and slipped out the door. A few heads turned his way, but no one seemed interested in saying their goodbyes, nor was he all that interested in offering his own, either. The moment he stepped into the corridor, he heard a startled gasp, a choked breath, that almost made him jump.

“Ach - my apologies, I didn’t mean to - Trucy?”

Leaning against the wall opposite her dressing room door was Trucy, her eyes wide and suspiciously wet. “Oh - Mr. Gavin, d-don’t tell me you’re leaving already!”

“I have a session with my - are you alright, fräulein?” Klavier asked, closing the door behind him, then approaching her slowly, carefully. “You look…”

“ - like I’ve been crying?” Trucy let out a wet laugh, pulling a tissue out of nowhere and hastily wiping her eyes. “Don’t you cry after a big performance, Mr. Gavin? You know, that rush of adrenaline, that boost of energy, that feeling of relief - it’s all a part of being a performer! Especially on a stage as big as this!”

“Natürlich, I’ve absolutely wept tears of joy after a gut show. But this?” Klavier gestured in her direction. “This...it’s something else, isn’t it?”

“I - it’s just…” Trucy sniffled. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Klavier said softly. “Though maybe Herr Wright should hear this another time, too.”

“I don’t wanna bother Daddy,” Trucy said, shaking her head. “Besides, I...I don’t wanna make him feel bad!”

“Bad?” Klavier repeated, confused. “What do you mean?”

Trucy took a moment to blow her nose. Then, she managed a small smile in Klavier’s direction. “It’s stupid, but...when I was in there earlier, and I-I saw all of my friends and family together, I started thinking about...you know. The rest of my family. All of the Gramaryes, all gone.” She sniffled noisily again. “Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa, they - th-they never got to see me grow up. And Uncle Valant, he’s still in prison, a-and - so now it’s just me. Just me. I have to carry on the family legacy, but no one’s here to teach me how!”

Klavier’s eyes widened in shock. “Trucy…”

“But if I tell Daddy - Phoenix, I mean - that I’ve been thinking about Mommy and Daddy, he’s gonna...I just can’t,” Trucy continued, shaking her head vehemently. “If he finds out, he’s gonna feel like...like he failed me. And he didn’t, not one bit, but - when I first started living with him, he said he felt like that all the time. Like he was doing it all wrong.” She swallowed, but her throat seemed to be stuck. “And...I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about Apollo, too.”

“You were?” Klavier asked, his mouth twisting. “Why?”

“I know I’ve only known him for a few years, but...it feels like I’ve known him forever. Like we were always meant to be best friends, you know?” Trucy was now fiddling with the ends of her cape, avoiding Klavier’s eyes. “It’s my birthday, a-and he’s not here. He called yesterday to say he wouldn’t be able to talk today, so we had a little celebration together, just the two of us. It was nice, but it just...it wasn’t the same.”

“He’ll come back eventually, ja?” Klavier said gently. “You said that was part of his plan.”

“‘Eventually’ is looking further and further away,” Trucy said with a wry smile. “But I-I know I gotta be okay with it. He’s doing really important stuff in Khura’in, after all!” She then nudged him. “You should call him sometime - he’s talked about some really cool cases that I bet you’d be interested in.”

“I doubt he’d want to hear from me, of all people, especially if he’s as busy as he sounds,” Klavier chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Mr. Gavin,” Trucy teased, elbowing him again. “He only just told me yesterday that he misses you…‘in a weird way’. That’s practically a glowing review, coming from Polly!”

Klavier felt his heartbeat race once more. “Ah, well, then maybe I should consider it. How could I not, when I might get to hear such generous praise myself?” Trucy burst into laughter, her face finally relaxing for the first time since Klavier had approached her.

They lingered in companionable silence for a moment, hearing nothing but their own steadying breaths and the muffled sounds of what seemed like absolute chaos coming from inside Trucy’s dressing room. Klavier wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why it sounded like Franziska was lecturing at least three different people at the same time. “Thanks for hearing me out, Mr. Gavin.”

“Bitte schön, though I’m not sure if I was any help at all,” Klavier admitted.

“Of course you were!” Trucy exclaimed, straightening up. “I feel better now, honest. Just talking about all that stuff really helped, even if I’m still not exactly sure what to do.”

“Hopefully you will soon, ja?” Klavier moved away from the wall, flashing her a genuine smile. “But if you ask me, you’re already doing a wunderschön job of upholding the Gramarye name, and I’m sure if you talk to Herr Wright about how you’re feeling, he’d say the same thing. Don’t be so hard on yourself, fräulein.”

Trucy hesitated. Then, she stepped forward to hug Klavier, holding him a little tighter than last time. He automatically held her closer, too. “See you tomorrow?” she mumbled against his shoulder.

“Of course,” Klavier promised. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_____

“How is he doing, that defense attorney of yours?”

Klavier looked up from the box he was packing. He found it almost too easy to get distracted in here, to feel a wave of nostalgia crash over him as he packed away the books and toys that once filled his childhood playroom. There were already paint swatches on the wall, a collection of wood stain samples sitting by his feet, but he wasn’t quite ready to see it transformed into something else, for the room to belong to someone other than him. “He’s not mine, Mama, he’s just a friend. And he’s fine, if a little stressed. Er, make that a lot stressed.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Even just hearing it secondhand, I can tell that boy needs a break.”

“I’ve told him as much,” Klavier said dryly. “We talk most days, you know. He’s just stubborn, won’t listen to anyone - least of all me.”

“If you talk most days, then he must listen to you to some degree, yes?” she pointed out, momentarily crossing the room so she could crack open a window. “How long has he been away now?”

“Almost seven months, I think,” Klavier replied, turning back to what he was doing. “Though we’ve been talking for...around three at this point. If it wasn’t for Trucy, I...I don’t think I would have ever tried. Even now, I feel like I take up too much of his time when he could be going to bed early or doing something more productive.”

“Ah, Klavier.” He looked back up to see his mother had returned to his side; her hand went to the top of his head, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Why is it so hard for you to understand when people care about you, hm? Aside from the screaming fans, I mean.”

“Mama,” Klavier complained, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Achtung, it’s nothing like that. All I’m saying is, we were never close to begin with. I’m sure he’d rather talk to Trucy or get his advice from Herr Wright.”

Frowning, she withdrew her hand from Klavier’s hair. “I don’t know what I would say to that man if I were to ever meet him. Where would I even begin?”

“I...ah…” Klavier busied himself with the collection of picture books he’d been rifling through earlier, smiling faintly at the sight of his name scrawled on the inside covers in barely legible chicken scratch. “...I have that same thought, and I see him all the time. I suppose an apology is in order, but...I don’t know if he would even want to hear it.”

“To think Kris ruined far more lives than just the ones he’d taken,” she whispered, slowly sinking down to sit beside him. “To think he’d taken any lives at all, I - ”

“Mama, bitte - ”

“What did we do, Klavier?” she said forlornly, her voice thick with emotion. “Where did we go wrong? What could we have - ”

“Mama, Mama, breathe,” Klavier murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. “It wasn’t your fault, ja? Not yours, not Papa’s. Just his, and...a little bit of mine.”

“Hardly,” she insisted. She then cupped his face in her hands, looking up at him with watery eyes and a bittersweet smile. “Don’t let anyone blame you for what he did, darling, especially not yourself. Promise?”

“Ich verspreche,” Klavier said obediently, tilting his chin down so she could kiss his forehead. She then released him with a satisfied nod, turning back the box she’d been working on earlier; in doing so, she missed the way Klavier’s face fell. He cleared his throat. “So...a crafting room, ja? What kind of projects did you have in mind?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, humming. “I want to try a few things - cross-stitching, beadwork, paper crafting...we’ll have to see what sticks. If any of them stick.”

“You’re not retired yet, Mama,” Klavier reminded her. “I’m exhausted just listening to you and Papa talk about what you’ve been up to - I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re exhausted? I’m exhausted just listening to what you’ve been up to,” she teased. “You’re not the only prosecutor in the district, baby, so why do you work like you are? Go out, live a little. Or stay in, I suppose, whatever you prefer.”

“I like being busy,” Klavier said defensively. “And I enjoy my work, you know that.”

“I just wish you enjoyed more than just working, that’s all,” she said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “You know what they say - don’t turn your hobbies into a career. But you went ahead and did that anyway, and now you don’t have any hobbies left!”

“I have plenty of hobbies, danke very much,” Klavier chuckled. “Cooking, working out...and I’m not exactly in the music business anymore, so I’d say that’s back to being a hobby, ja?”

“How about friends?” she suggested. “All I hear about is the people who work for you or the people who work with you.”

“That’s just how it goes,” Klavier said with a rueful grimace. “Making friends as an adult...it’s hard. But I mean it, mir geht's gut. You have nothing to worry about, not with me.”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “But I’m going to worry, anyway.” She then stood, smoothing out the front of her shirt. “We should probably get going with lunch before your papa gets home, yes? We’ll continue with this later.”

“Ja, Mama, natürlich,” Klavier replied, also getting to his feet. He cast one last lingering glance in the direction of the picture books - for it wasn’t just his messy, childish handwriting inside, but Kristoph’s neat cursive as well - before following her out into the hallway.

_____

Time, Klavier mused to himself every so often, never really made sense to him. He liked being on time, of course, he liked the precision of it, especially when it came to music. He was proud of his natural affinity for rhythm, for keeping time. It was why he excelled at piano and guitar lessons at an early age, why the numerous vocal coaches he’d had in his life found him particularly easy to work with. But it always caught him off-guard whenever things seemed to speed up or slow down or even come to a complete standstill whenever they pleased. Twenty-four years of his life, changed, when he learned about his brother’s true nature. Seven years of his band, gone, when his best friend turned out to be a criminal as well. And now, an entire year that felt like five, all because Apollo wasn’t here.

“You should just ask him out already,” Ema had said to him one evening, over drinks. “I know his name is misleading, but he’s just a person, not a god. What’re you so scared of?”

“I’m not fond of wasps or small spaces,” Klavier had drawled, smirking at Ema’s infuriated scowl as he took a sip of his beer. Still, he knew she had a point. As blunt as Apollo could be, Klavier doubted he would be cruel about turning someone down. It also didn’t help that these days, he was starting to get his hopes up, now that he and Apollo talked on a daily basis. He still wasn’t sure how it had happened, aside from Trucy’s encouragement and his own impulses, but he couldn’t be more thrilled that it had.

“Two more months until I’m out of here...I think,” Apollo amended, yawning, his face filling up Klavier’s entire laptop screen. He looked good, Klavier though, even better than usual - during his time in Khura’in, Apollo had gotten more sun; his skin was a few shades darker, his freckles especially more prominent across the bridge of his nose. His hair was longer, too, mostly in the back, and his wardrobe had slowly evolved into an aesthetically pleasing mix of American street style and Khura’inese casualwear. Apollo had also mentioned a few times that he had built up some muscle, especially in his calves and shoulders, now that he had to walk everywhere and carry his fully-loaded bag wherever he went. Klavier tried not to think about how much he was looking forward to seeing it for himself in person.

“You’re sure now?” Klavier asked. “You’ve said that before.”

“Pretty sure,” Apollo said, chuckling. “Nahyuta even bought me a plane ticket, like he can’t wait for me to leave.”

“I’m sure he’ll miss you all the same,” Klavier replied. “And he’s used to flying back and forth, so I doubt you’ll be apart for long.”

“I think I’m gonna miss him, too,” Apollo admitted, tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie. It always gave Klavier a little thrill whenever he saw Apollo wearing it - after all, it was once his, having sent it to Apollo via a care package that Trucy had put together a while ago. Though their upper bodies were comparable in width, Apollo was significantly shorter, which meant the hoodie seemed to completely swallow him up. “It’s weird, looking back on it. How different we were when we were kids - like, both as people and as brothers - and yet...some things never changed. I don’t even know how to explain it, I just...I just know.”

“Something only the two of you can understand, I’m sure,” Klavier said diplomatically. He’d heard many stories about Apollo and Nahyuta’s childhood by now, sometimes accompanied by the occasional mention of Dhurke. Even now, he found it hard to picture; he wasn’t too familiar with Nahyuta, but the thought of him and Apollo chasing each other across mountainous hills or searching for frogs along the riverbanks seemed unlikely, yet it happened all the same. “You have a good relationship with him by now, I take it?”

“Definitely,” Apollo nodded. He then leaned in close to the camera, his voice dropping to an exaggerated whisper. “I’ve even grown on Rayfa, and though she'll never admit it, I think she kinda misses Mr. Wright.”

Klavier laughed. “Charmed her, have you? I’m not surprised. You can be...persuasive when you want to be.”

“You make me sound like a conman,” Apollo snorted, leaning back in his seat. “Give me a little credit, will you?”

“Ja, ja, fair enough,” Klavier said, holding his hands up in surrender. “After all, you did have a client ask you out once. Clearly, you have some natural appeal.”

“It’s happened twice, actually,” Apollo said, shuddering. “I don’t know what I did to make either of ‘em think I was remotely interested, but I shut them down fast.”

“You saved their lives,” Klavier pointed out. “It might be their...misguided way of showing their gratitude. Besides, you’re not half-bad. Some might even say you’re...attractive.”

“And the compliments just keep on rolling in.” Apollo got up from his seat, momentarily blocking the camera as he unplugged his laptop from its charger and carried it over to his bed. He sat cross-legged by his pillows, yawning and stretching luxuriously. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Gavin.”

“If you’re fishing for praise, Forehead, you only have to ask,” Klavier teased. “Let’s see, should we talk about the impressive way that your voice cracks every so often when you shout, which is all the time? What about the fact that you only seem to own one tie in the most outlandish shade of blue I’ve ever seen? Or how, every single time, without fail, you always push on the courthouse entrance doors despite the fact that they’re clearly marked ‘pull’ - ”

“You are such a dick,” Apollo sighed, shaking his head.

“ - you managed to get food poisoning at two different events for the prosecutor’s office,” Klavier continued; if he wasn’t enjoying himself earlier, he certainly was now. “Ah, remember that time you ripped your pants at a crime scene? Good thing it was a thrift store, ja? But if you ask me, corduroy bell bottoms don’t quite suit you. You don’t have the height for flared hems.”

“...I think you’ve gone just a little off-track here,” Apollo drawled. “Take it back now, Gavin, you were s’posed to be saying nice stuff, remember? Like, tell me I’m good at my job or something.”

“You make the perfekt lawyer,” Klavier said in the most serious tone he could muster, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. “After all, you just love to pick a fight.”

“Don’t think I won’t hang up on you,” Apollo said, yawning again as he half-flopped over onto his side, pillowing his hands beneath his cheek. For what felt like the thousandth time, Klavier found himself wishing he was in Khura’in, too.

“You say that every time, and you’ve never followed through,” Klavier reminded him. “Fine, you want a real compliment, Forehead?”

“That’s what I was asking for,” Apollo mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled.

“I think…” Klavier hesitated. “I think you might be one of my favorite people in the whole world.”

Apollo’s eyes flew open. “Huh? You...y-you really think so?”

“Would I be talking to you all the time if you weren’t?” Klavier chuckled. “How much free time do you think I have on my hands, hm?”

“Yeah, but - b-but still,” Apollo protested weakly. Klavier delighted in the way Apollo’s cheeks reddened, the way his nose scrunched up, the way his brows furrowed in an attempt to look irritated instead of embarrassed. “We only really became friends, like, uh...eight-ish months ago, so…”

“So nichts,” Klavier said derisively. “I say what I mean and I mean what I say, ja?”

Apollo shot him a drowsy smile. “Thanks, Gavin. It’s...actually kinda flattering.” He yawned yet again, curling up on top of his pillows. “Hey, I just remembered - you had your evaluation with Mr. Edgeworth just now, right? How’d that go, did you get three gold stars and an extra cookie to go with your juicebox like you wanted?”

“Call the prosecutor’s office a preschool just one time, all because Herr Debeste decided to bring Ritz crackers to the office potluck, and now you can’t let it go...and move on,” Klavier added, smirking; Apollo lifted a hand to flip him off. “It’s the usual with Herr Edgeworth, really - ‘excellent work, Prosecutor Gavin, nothing new to report’. Whenever I ask him if there’s anything more I can do, any way in which I can improve...I get nothing. It’s like he wants me out of his office as soon as possible.”

“I doubt it,” Apollo said quietly. “I know you keep saying over and over again that he blames you for what happened to Mr. Wright - but he doesn’t. Even if he did at one point, no one does anymore, alright? We know what happened, we know who it was, a-and it wasn’t you.” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking Klavier right in the eye. “Mr. Edgeworth doesn���t have suggestions for you ‘cos...you’re good at what you do. Somehow, you, Mister Euro-Rocker, are the most normal person at the prosecutor’s office. All anyone can accuse you of is, like, self-promotion, grandstanding, and wall slamming. Why do you do that, anyway?”

“I had a kickboxing phase,” Klavier said, laughing wetly. “That was surprisingly touching, Forehead, danke. Don’t we all aspire to be ‘the most normal person’ in any situation, achtung.”

“So you’re saying in some alternate universe, you would leg slam the prosecutor’s bench instead?” Apollo said dryly. “What would that even look like?”

“Gott if I know,” Klavier replied, continuing to laugh. “Anyway, should I let you go now? You look like you’re going to fall asleep at any second.”

“I’m fine.” Apollo slumped back down against his pillows, then let out an exaggerated exhale. “Though I wouldn’t, uh. I wouldn’t complain if you sang me to sleep, either.”

Klavier straightened up in his seat, surprised. “Again? I didn’t think you actually meant it last time, until it worked.”

“Your voice is, y’know...decent,” Apollo said, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “I have to listen to it for, like, two hours a day, after all. Going on and on about ‘ah, Herr Forehead, my bike didn’t start again’, or ‘I got a free drink at the courthouse café because the cute barista recognized me, can you believe it’ - oh, and we can’t forget the classic ‘you wouldn’t believe how terrible my hair looks today, I don’t know if I should turn my camera on’ - ”

“I take offense to that last one,” Klavier protested. “You’ve done the exact same thing to me! Remember when there was a thunderstorm - ”

“A Khura’inese thunderstorm, one of the worst the country’s ever seen, versus you having a, quote-unquote, ‘bad hair day’ ‘cos you woke up on the wrong side of the silk pillowcase. Very comparable,” Apollo drawled. “Go on, then, Gavin, give me a lullaby.”

Klavier steeled himself, taking a deep breath. Then, in the throatiest, most operatic voice he could muster, he began to sing. “Guten abend, gut nacht, mit rosen bedacht - ”

“Screw off, you - ” Apollo was doubled over, clutching at his stomach; the sound of his laugh, as cliché as it was, was music to Klavier’s ears. “Shit, I-I can’t even be mad at that one, that was on me. Okay, let’s not do a lullaby, just give me, like...something slow.”

Klavier hummed thoughtfully as he watched Apollo settle back down, drawing his duvet up over his shoulders. “Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style someday...dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way…” It didn’t take long for Apollo to fall asleep, his breath slowly evening out as he did. He looked peaceful in a way that he never did when he was awake. Smiling to himself, Klavier went to end the call. “Gute Nacht, liebe.”

_____

“For the love of everything, can you please stop bouncing your leg like that?”

“Ah - ” Klavier clamped his hand down onto his thigh, offering her a nervous smile. “My apologies, fräulein, I didn’t realize it was so cold in here. Does Herr Wright have a habit of leaving the air conditioning on? I didn’t think this office even had air conditioning, to be honest.”

Ema side-eyed him derisively; the effect was slightly ruined by the huge bouquet of roses she had sitting in her lap. They were practically tickling her chin. “...cold, right. That’s what’s going on, not the fact that we’re here to surprise Apollo on his way back from the airport.”

Klavier was very tempted to glare back. He liked to think he was an amiable person, but Ema challenged that notion every time they spoke. “Why did you decide to return early, anyway? Was Herr Sahdmadhi getting on your nerves?”

“Oh, please,” Ema snorted. “Sorry, Gavin, you’re still the problem child of the prosecutor’s office to me. No, I left early ‘cos...well, because I could. Besides, I missed this one over here.” She lightly elbowed the person on her other side, who giggled sweetly in response.

“Long-distance suuucks,” Kay agreed, dropping her head onto Ema’s shoulder and shooting her an affectionate grin. “Now that Em’s back for good, we can finally look into getting a place together!”

“Have you started yet?” Klavier asked, curious. “Because my area has a few - ”

“Um, I-I think a taxi just pulled up outside!” Klavier turned to squint through the darkness in the direction of the front window, where Juniper, Vera, and the Fey women were hidden, lifting their heads every so often to peek through the blinds. Thankfully, Vera seemed less nervous around him these days; he hated the thought of making her uncomfortable, especially when there was nothing he could do about it but wait. He’d tried approaching her on the rare occasions they were in the same room together, but more often than not, they both ended up tongue-tied. “I see Thena, and Apollo, and Trucy...oh, there’s Mr. Wright! I think Trucy made him tip the driver extra, heh.”

Klavier’s heart seemed to be in his throat as he, Ema, and Kay crouched down behind Apollo’s desk, while the others went to duck behind Phoenix’s and Athena’s desks as well. It had been so long, so long that he’d nearly forgotten some of the little things that just didn’t quite translate via phone call or video chat - how tall Apollo really was, how loud he could truly be; the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed, or how he absent-mindedly played with his bracelet more often than Klavier suspected he realized himself. He had to stop himself from letting out a hysterical laugh when he remembered how, the last time he saw Apollo in person, he’d flipped Klavier off. How appropriate, Klavier thought somewhat dazedly, shaking his head. And now -

“...huh, so I really did leave my jacket here. Guess it doesn’t matter since I never wore it, anyway. I’m more of a suit vest kinda guy, you know? So, what are we - ” The light flickered on. All at once, the agency seemed to explode with noise as everyone jumped out from behind the desks.

“SURPRISE!” Several party poppers, courtesy of Maya and Kay, went off simultaneously, which only added to the chaos.

“ - argh - what the - ?!”

“Wh-whoa, Polly, watch your head! You almost knocked over Mr. Charley!”

“Forget Charley, I-I almost twisted my ankle just now, shit - ” Apollo managed to find his footing again, half-leaning against the back of the couch to keep himself propped up while he caught his breath, his hand clasped over his presumably racing heart. Klavier could only stare at him, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. Ema was side-eyeing him again, but by now, he really didn’t care.

Of course, Klavier had known for a few weeks now that today was the day, but to see Apollo standing - well, somewhat collapsing - in front of him was something else entirely. Clearly, Apollo’s laptop webcam and spotty internet connection hadn’t done him justice, not the healthy glow of his skin, nor the shine of his hair. He was wearing a Khura’inese tunic and joggers with both the sleeves and pant hems rolled up, revealing just how muscular he’d become. However, what intrigued Klavier most of all was the familiar-looking hoodie in Apollo’s arms.

“Hey, stranger,” Ema said, lightly punching Apollo in the shoulder, then unceremoniously shoving the bouquet of roses into his arms despite the fact he was still holding the handle of his rolling luggage bag. He nearly dropped it on his own foot in an attempt to grab the flowers in time. “It’s weird, right? I’m still getting used to, like, mega-grocery stores and smog all over again.”

“Considering I’ve only been inside an airport, a taxi, and the agency so far, I can’t say I’ve had time to adjust, no,” Apollo said dryly. He then frowned. “Er, Ms. Fey, a-are you filming all this?”

Maya grinned almost manically over the top of her phone. “Yup! Blame Trucy and Athena - they wanted to get your reaction on camera, and ooh, you did not disappoint.”

Apollo deflated even further. “...glad I could entertain you all.” He then straightened up, approaching Juniper and Vera first to chat with them amicably while the others fell back to talk amongst themselves. Trucy sidled up next to Klavier with the brightest grin she’d had in months.

“I still can’t believe he’s finally here,” Trucy admitted. “It was starting to feel like he was never coming back, you know?”

“He looks...surprisingly refreshed for someone who’s been sitting on a plane for Gott knows how long,” Klavier chuckled, smoothing out the creases in the front of his shirt. He then shot Trucy a soft smile. “You must be thrilled.”

“Ecstatic!” Trucy chirped, nodding enthusiastically. “There are some tricks Athena just refuses to help with, but I bet Apollo wouldn’t mind if I volunteered him for the job!”

“That’s not the only reason you missed him and you know it,” Klavier said gently.

Trucy’s cheeks reddened; she shot him a sheepish smile. “...I-I may have cried at the airport. It was a total mess, ‘cos me and Athena were crying, and then Apollo started crying, and there was tears and snot everywhere, a-and Daddy got it all on tape, too. He said it was like we were trying to set the record for world’s longest hug!”

“That’s very sweet, fräulein,” Klavier murmured. “I’m sure it was quite the scene.”

“What was quite the scene?” They startled at the sound of a new voice, turning to see Apollo standing before them. The first thing Klavier couldn’t help but think, stupidly enough, was that Apollo looked taller somehow - he seemed to be holding his head higher, his chest prouder, though it also helped that he was wearing a heavy pair of brown leather boots with a thick sole. Klavier’s heart thumped pathetically in his chest at the sight of Apollo’s warm, curious eyes, now fixed on his face in confusion.

“Your reunion, or so I hear,” Klavier said smoothly, taking a few steps closer. His eyes flickered down to Apollo’s arms, half-folded in front of his torso; he was still holding onto the hoodie. “And I see I’ve done a good job of keeping you warm while you were away, Herr Forehead.” He sensed Trucy, Ema, and Kay exchanging bewildered glances behind him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I got some pretty nice handmade blankets in Khura’in,” Apollo chuckled, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his unstyled hair. Klavier was more used to seeing it without gel than with it at this point, given how most of their video calls had taken place during Apollo’s evenings. “But, uh...thanks. You sure you don’t want it back?”

“Ah, nein, it’s all yours now,” Klavier replied. “But if you’re in need of more clothes that aren’t from the children’s section, I’d be more than happy to provide.”

Apollo snorted, shaking his head. “You’re such a dick.” Then, to just about everyone’s surprise, he took the last few steps to close the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Klavier, burying his face against Klavier’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “...it’s good to see you, Gavin.”

Klavier stood still for a moment, stunned, before returning the hug, holding him tighter than either of them expected, resting his chin on top of Apollo’s head. He smelled faintly of fruit and dirt and sweat, though Klavier didn’t mind one bit. “Ich habe dich vermisst,” he mumbled into Apollo’s hair, letting out a relieved exhale. “I’m glad you’re back.”

A little over an hour later, their rather large group of people - made even larger with the addition of Edgeworth and Simon, who had been held up in a work incident that, from the sound of it, was entirely Payne’s fault - found themselves at an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant, arguing over whether to order more salmon or more unagi while they drank beer, or in Trucy and Pearl’s case, soda. Their table was crowded, to be sure, and it was definitely the loudest in the entire restaurant, but with Edgeworth footing the bill, insisting no expense be spared, their servers didn’t seem to mind too much.

“God, you’re obvious.” Klavier turned to see Ema pointing her chopsticks at him rather threateningly. “Y’know, if you wanted to sit with Apollo, you should’ve just said so instead of sitting here and staring at him like a pining Austen heroine.”

“You really should be careful with those,” Klavier commented, gently pushing her hand away. “And it’s fine, he obviously wants to sit with Trucy and Athena. We have time to chat later, ja?”

Sighing, Ema turned back to her plate, stuffing a piece of tamago into her mouth in the most irritated manner Klavier had ever seen someone eat. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering,” she said, taking a generous gulp of her beer. “Look, Gavin, I - you know I was there, on the other end of things. I saw how...how happy he looked after your phone calls, whenever you sent him a text...all I’m saying is, sitting around and doing nothing like you did before? You really think that’s gonna work?”

“The last thing he needs is for me to bother him while he’s still settling in,” Klavier said diplomatically. “Like I said, we’ll have time to talk...later. Let him breathe, bitte. He literally just got here.”

Ema’s mouth twisted. “I really don’t get you sometimes.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Klavier now. “Like, I’m trying to imagine some world in which I don’t tell Kay how I feel about her, and...I can’t do it. It’s physically, emotionally, scientifically impossible. My entire life would be different, you know?”

“With you and Kay, you knew the feeling was mutual from the start, ja?” Klavier glanced across the table, where Apollo was cracking up over some joke Athena had just told. “As for me...I still can’t be sure. Even with what you just said, it’s no guarantee. And I think, for the time being, we’re...we’re glücklich this way. We’re friends. Close friends, even.”

“He talked to you more than everyone else combined,” Ema reminded him. “I only managed to talk to Kay maybe twice a week if we were lucky.” Kay leaned around Ema to nod affirmatively in Klavier’s direction, a stray udon noodle hanging from her mouth. “But whatever, I’m really only telling you for Apollo’s sake. If this was just about you, I guarantee I wouldn’t care.”

“Sure, fräulein, whatever you say,” Klavier chuckled. “So, you were saying something earlier about apartments - ”

“Hey, Gavin.” Once again, Klavier nearly gave himself whiplash at the sound of Apollo’s voice; he wasn’t sure when Apollo had gotten out of his seat and come to their side of the table, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. “Sorry to interrupt, it’s just - can I talk to you for a sec? Outside, maybe?”

“Er - ja, sure.” Klavier shot Ema an apologetic smile, though she’d already gone back to stealing pieces of ginger off of Kay’s plate. He then followed Apollo through the restaurant and out the front door, the two of them coming to a stop on the sidewalk. “What’s this all about, then?”

“Nothing, I just - I needed some air,” Apollo admitted, taking a generous deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong, I-I’m glad to see everyone again, but it’s a little...crowded back there. And loud.”

“Very true,” Klavier agreed, leaning against the exterior wall. “So...I’m surprised you’re still standing. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Ridiculously so,” Apollo chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll crash in like, a few hours. Mr. Wright’s couch could be a literal rock, and I’ll still be out cold for the next...I dunno, week? Month?”

“You mentioned something about getting an apartment in your old building, ja?” Klavier mused. “When’s that happening?”

“I move in next week...if I’m awake by then, that is,” Apollo added dryly. He then smirked. “You offering to help, Gavin?”

Klavier leaned in close, his own teasing smile playing on his lips. “If you want me, just let me know, Herr Forehead.” He couldn’t help but feel a little thrill go through him when Apollo’s pupils darkened considerably in response.

“I’ll, uh...I’ll keep that in mind,” Apollo replied, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. Klavier found himself momentarily distracted by the motion. “Hey, uh - what were you and Ema talking about before I cut in?”

Klavier paused for a little longer than he would've liked. “I...was asking her about her plans to find a new place with Kay. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s only happening now. They’ve been together for years, after all.”

“True, but...if it works for them, I guess,” Apollo shrugged. “Did you guys ever get around to playing laser tag?”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung?”

“Before we left, remember?” Apollo said, biting back a laugh. “Ema told me to ask you if you wanted to do drinks or laser tag, so did you and Kay...y’know, hang out without us? Or have you been waiting for us to get back?”

“Ah, that,” Klavier said, laughing as well. “Nein, we never did get around to it, though we’ve had the occasional drink together. Remember that story I told you a few months ago, the one where she - ”

“ - where she got kicked out of the bar ‘cos she accidentally gave them a fake ID she’d been holding onto as evidence, yeah,” Apollo snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds like something that could literally happen to any of us.” He straightened up, taking a couple of steps back so he could clear his throat. “Anyway, we should hang out after I recover from my inevitable jetlag. Like, the four of us, I mean.”

“Er - right, ja, the four of us,” Klavier nodded, faltering slightly. Apollo looked at him questioningly but didn’t say anything, instead turning his gaze towards the street for a moment, watching the cars and the occasional motorcycle go by. Klavier supposed he was still getting used to all the noise again, or rather, the different kinds of noise. He’d heard the evening sounds of Khura’in through the phone many times, especially when Apollo went for a late-night walk and “brought” Klavier with him for company. It had been relatively peaceful, serene, in a way that California was decidedly not. “Apollo, I...do you want to…maybe we could...”

“Yeah?” Apollo looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Klavier coughed. “...never mind. Maybe another time, when you’re not so tired, ja?”

“Oh.” Apollo frowned slightly. “Uh, sure.” He then brightened, gently nudging Klavier’s arm. “Hey, but maybe we can make a thing out of my move-in day, make it a casual housewarming hangout or whatever. You interested?”

“Always,” Klavier said softly, nudging him back. Grinning, Apollo wordlessly beckoned for Klavier to follow him back inside, back to their table. He didn’t need to glance in Ema’s direction to know she looked as disappointed in him as he felt.

_____

“Ach, Klavier. You’re pouting more than your cousin Ingrid, and she’s barely seven years old.”

Klavier looked up from his glass to shoot his father an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Papa. It’s just - the timing is unfortunate, you know? Er, not that I don’t want to be here. Anja and her new bride look wunderschön, and it’s been so long since we’ve had a wedding in the family - ”

“Now you sound like your Uncle Oskar,” his father chuckled, clapping Klavier good-naturedly on the shoulder. The two of them were standing in what looked and felt like a fairytale, in a sea of blossoming flowers and sparkling lights on a beautiful, crisp Saturday morning. In the distance, Klavier could see his cousin - or was she a second cousin, or a cousin once removed, he could never remember - and her wife posing for their wedding photographer by the park gazebo, while everyone else not-so-patiently waited to be called over for group photographs. All of the younger ones were especially moody, especially the aforementioned Ingrid, who had fallen and scraped her knee mere minutes before the ceremony. The poor girl had refused to let anyone put a bandaid on her, electing to sulk in silent solitude on a park bench instead. “I know you wanted to be with your friends today, but...there will be other days, yes?”

“Ja, ja, ich weiß,” Klavier replied. “Today is Apollo’s little housewarming get-together, it would've been nice to be there. But still, I wouldn’t miss Anja’s wedding for the world.” He then swallowed, glancing down at his feet. “That is, that’s how I felt before we got here. But achtung, now I feel like a caged animal. After all this time, do they really think - ”

“Not one person here thinks you’re going the same way,” his father interjected sharply, his eyes fierce behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You’re not him. You’re not. But their stares...unfortunately, I don’t think it can be helped.”

“The questions were so simple before,” Klavier muttered. “Remember when I came back for a couple of weeks, between legs of the Gavinners’ European tour, for cousin Leo’s wedding? All anyone wanted to know was - ‘ah, Klavier, how is your band doing? Are you still a prosecutor? When are you getting married?’. And now it’s - it’s ‘what’s going to happen to him now?’ and ‘what exactly is this dark age of the law everyone’s been talking about?’ and ‘did you know the whole time?’. It’s endless, ach.”

“Klavier - ”

“I didn’t ask for my life to revolve around his, okay?” Klavier managed to stop himself before he could shout; instead, his voice came out as a harsh whisper. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice, carrying on with their conversations while they waited for the newlyweds to call on them. “So if people are going to continue to talk, to stare, then I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. If I can’t have a normal conversation with my family members that aren’t you or Mama, then…” He shook his head; his hand was trembling, his champagne sloshing over the edge of his flute.

Sighing, his father squeezed Klavier’s shoulder a little firmer now. “...I can tell them you have a migraine if you’d like. Or how about a stomach bug? Though maybe a work emergency would sound a little more...dignified.”

Klavier let out a watery chuckle, clasping his hand over his father’s. “Danke, Papa, I appreciate it, but it’s fine. This is Anja’s day, not a day for me to whine and fuss. I can grin and bear it for her, ich verspreche. And I apologize for my...outburst.” His father shot him a sympathetic smile, then turned back to watch the happy couple while they waited for Klavier’s mother to return from the bathroom.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time Klavier collapsed face-first onto his bed, only to sit up in a panic for a moment, thinking he’d just smeared a full face of makeup onto his freshly-washed silk pillowcases, before remembering he’d managed to trudge his way through his skincare routine just moments ago. With a weary groan, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text message; mere seconds later, his phone began to ring.

“Forehead? I didn’t actually expect you to be up.”

“Mik’s being a literal scaredy-cat about living in a new place, so I’m probably not gonna be able to sleep anytime soon,” Apollo said with a weary sigh. “So, how was the rest of the wedding? All the photos you sent looked incredible!”

“What can I say? Gavins have good taste,” Klavier replied, chuckling. He rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling. “It was...perfekt, the epitome of classic fairytale romance, really. The kind of wedding you see in children’s books, you know?”

“Sure.” Apollo’s voice was warm in Klavier’s ear. “Hey - you, uh, you okay? You sound...off.”

“Ja, ja, I’m just tired,” Klavier said, frowning slightly at his outstretched hand. Despite getting them done yesterday, his nails were already starting to chip. “How long did everyone end up staying for?”

“They left a little before midnight,” Apollo replied, yawning. “Trucy has a matinee show tomorrow - or today, I guess - or else she probably would’ve insisted on sleeping over. Would’ve been kinda nice, actually, i-it’s always a little weird being alone in a new place for the first time. Though I guess this makes up for it.”

“What makes up for it?” Klavier asked, confused.

Apollo snorted. “This phone call, you dork. It’s like last year all over again, except we’re finally in the same time zone now.”

“Ah - right,” Klavier said, letting out an awkward laugh. “Ja, this is nice, though...I assume we’re not making this a habit again, are we?”

“Nah, definitely not. But, y’know, every now and then for old time’s sake? I wouldn’t, uh, I wouldn’t mind it.” Klavier shivered. Apollo’s voice had dropped to a low murmur; it almost sounded as if he were in the room with him. Klavier remembered Apollo making a snarky comment or two whenever he caught a glimpse of Klavier’s apartment during their video calls, leaving him to wonder whether Apollo would ever want to see it for himself. “So, you wanna do something next week? I’m still on co-counsel duty until I’m ready to take my own cases again, so my schedule’s not too hectic.”

“What did you have in mind?” Klavier hummed.

“I’m up for whatever - er, within reason,” Apollo added. “It could, well. It could even be just you and me, if you want.”

Klavier’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. “...I think I’d like that, ja. Drinks, maybe? Friday?”

“Yeah, uh - ” Apollo cleared his throat. “ - yeah, sounds good. Text me the time and place whenever, okay? Though I guess we’re probably gonna see each other before then, so.”

“Definitely,” Klavier said quietly, sucking in a breath to stop himself from making a potentially embarrassing noise - a squeak of joy, maybe, or a nervous laugh; either one would be terrible. “Should I let you go, then? We didn’t usually talk this late, even when you were on the other side of the world.”

“Very true,” Apollo said, punctuating Klavier’s point by yawning again. “I think Mik’s finally settled down, anyway.” Then, he seemed to hesitate. “...you sure you’re good, Gavin?”

“Mir geht's gut,” Klavier promised. This time, it felt more like the truth. Though his quiet anger from earlier hadn’t quite dissipated, he was calmer now, more at ease. “Family events just take a lot out of me, that’s all. Inevitable, given how big my extended family is.”

Apollo fell silent for a moment. “Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I, uh...I wouldn’t know.”

“I think it depends on the family,” Klavier admitted. This time, both of them went quiet, contemplating Klavier’s sentiment. “...anyway, let’s not carry on and ruin our sleep schedules, ja? Gute Nacht, Forehead.”

“G’night, Gavin,” Apollo said softly. “Talk to you tomorrow.” Despite the usual raspy quality of Apollo’s voice, not to mention how sharp it could get, Klavier found it immensely comforting at times, its warmth like a thick blanket - or, more accurately, an oversized hoodie. Mere minutes after they hung up, Klavier drifted off into a deep, restful sleep.

_____

Friday, it seemed, was not meant to be. Much to Klavier’s quiet disappointment - though obviously, he understood, given the circumstances - Apollo had to cancel their plans after getting some truly life-changing news.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin,” Apollo had stammered on the phone, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears. “I - she’s my - a-and her eyes - sh-she came to see us, me a-and - ”

“Slow down, Apollo, slow down,” Klavier had said gently. “What’s going on? What happened?”

Apollo had taken a big, shuddering inhale. Then, he spoke again. “...Trucy is my little sister...a-and Lamiroir is...she’s...she’s...she’s Thalassa Gramarye. Our mother.”

The news traveled quickly throughout their social circle; naturally, it was Trucy who told everyone else, while Apollo still seemed to be reeling in shock. No one seemed to know what to say, not with everything they knew about the twists and turns and tragedies of their respective family histories. A week passed, then another, and another, as the two Gramarye siblings took some time off to reunite with their mother. Klavier dropped by the Wright Anything Agency every so often, hoping to see how they were doing, only to find just Phoenix and Athena there.

“Apollo almost punched me...again,” Phoenix had said quietly. If it wasn't for the seriousness of his expression, Klavier would've asked about the first time. “It’s because I knew. I knew a long time ago. And Trucy, she can’t seem to decide whether she’s upset with me or not. Can’t say I blame her, though Thalassa and I had our reasons.”

“I’m sure you did, Herr Wright,” Klavier had replied sincerely, though he didn’t push further. After all, it wasn’t his family drama this time, and as far as he was concerned, knowing what their reasons were wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Phoenix had then paused. “She told me she talked to you, by the way. Trucy, that is.” He let out a hollow laugh. “Even when she didn’t know, it was like...like she already knew. But I shouldn’t be surprised, not with her. Never with her.” Clearing his throat, he shot Klavier a gentle, genuine smile. “Thanks for being there for her, Prosecutor Gavin. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Klavier had promised. “Herr Wright, before I go, I really should say something - ”

“If you’re about to do what I think you’re about to do...there’s no need,” Phoenix had interrupted, though not unkindly. “I’ve said it a few times, but I’ll say it again. Let’s put the past behind us, alright?”

Klavier had been taken aback. “...if you’re sure, then...ja, I hear you.”

Almost four weeks after Thalassa returned to her children’s lives, Klavier finally saw Apollo again, during a brief one-day trial. Once Apollo got his client acquitted, the two of them took a moment to sit on the courthouse steps together in stilted silence. “How is she?” Klavier asked. “How are you?”

“She’s…” Apollo sucked his breath in between his teeth. “...she’s still figuring things out. Remembering stuff. Trying to, uh...trying to learn how to be a mom to two adult children who...who grew up without her. And I dunno if it’s harder for me, o-or for Trucy, because I accepted my whole life that...that my mom just wasn’t around. But Trucy lost her. She knew her, loved her, lost her...and now she’s back. Not that it’s a competition, it’s just…” He managed to give Klavier a small smile. “We’ll be fine. It’s just weird and confusing a-and...but we’re fine. Sorry I’ve been so - ”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Klavier said, gently nudging him. “So, are you going to see her again today?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna drop by for dinner tonight,” Apollo replied. “We’ll hang out again soon, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about me, Forehead. Take care of yourself first, ja?” Klavier chuckled, patting Apollo’s knee. “Anyway, I should get going before the paparazzi catch wind of me. Auf Wiedersehen, baby. Have a good time tonight.” As he was leaving, he took a moment to watch Apollo walk over to the courthouse bike rack to join Trucy, who was patiently waiting for him. The moment she spotted him, she flung her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug, as if they’d been apart for years and not mere minutes.

The days continued to go by without them seeing much of each other, though they did continue to text on a regular basis, even having the occasional late-night phone call or two. Klavier also managed to chat with Trucy when he dropped by the agency one afternoon in the hopes that she would be there.

“I’m okay,” Trucy had told him. “We’re still getting used to it, but it’s definitely one of the best surprises I’ve ever had! I’ve been saying this whole time that Polly’s like a little big brother to me, and now…”

“And now it’s true,” Klavier had remarked, laughing. “I’m happy for all of you, fräulein, truly. And thinking back...what a strange family reunion. All because I invited her to perform with the Gavinners. Er, not to make this about me, of course.”

“Of course,” Trucy had echoed, giggling as well. “You would never do that.”

Klavier had rolled his eyes good-naturedly, which only served to make her laugh even harder. His expression then sobered. “Have you told either of them about...what you told me and Herr Wright?”

“Huh?...o-oh. That.” Trucy had fiddled with the ends of her cape, eyes fixated on the toes of her boots. “No, n-not yet. It’s too early. We only just discovered the truth, why would I ruin that with my silly problems?”

“They’re not silly at all,” Klavier had reassured her. “They’re...I know a little something about family legacy. Carrying a name that belongs to someone else. Talk to them about it when the time is right, ja?”

“I know, I know,” Trucy had mumbled, her voice small. She then perked up, plastering on a false smile that Klavier was all too familiar with. “You should join us someday, Prosecutor Gavin! I’m sure she’d like to see you again, and Polly’s been dying to spend more time with you.”

Klavier felt warm. “Really? Did he say that?”

“Well, not in so many words,” Trucy had said sheepishly. “But we’ve been so busy with Mom lately that neither of us has really had time to hang out with people other than Daddy and Athena, y’know? So...maybe we could do another group dinner or something.”

And so, a little over a month and a half after their canceled plans, Trucy managed to get a smaller group of people together - her, Apollo, Athena, Klavier, Simon, Pearl, Juniper, Ema, and Kay, to be exact - for a rather chaotic visit to their nearest night market. Considering how narrow the pathways were, how packed the food stalls could be, it was hard for them to move as a collective through the crowds.

“We might have an easier time if we split up,” Apollo suggested. “And, uh, as a bonus, people would stop glaring at us for holding up literally every line.” And so, everyone divided themselves into pairs - or a trio, in Athena, Simon, and Juniper’s case - and went on their way.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with Trucy?” Klavier asked once he and Apollo were in line for freshly-made takoyaki.

“Listen, and I say this with love, but I’ve been looking forward to hanging out with someone who isn’t Trucy for once,” Apollo said, chuckling. “Besides, we never got around to getting drinks. So let me pay for, like, a milk tea or something.”

“That’s hardly necessary, but danke,” Klavier said, smiling easily. “So, has it finally sunk in yet? Your newfound big brother status, that is.”

“Thankfully, not that kind of big brother,” Apollo said dryly. “Honestly, it hasn’t been that different. Me and Trucy have always looked out for each other, and...I dunno. We got attached pretty quickly, almost like we, uh...like we knew somehow. Like everything about our relationship made even more sense than before.” He then let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Never mind, that probably sounds really stupid - ”

“Nein, not at all,” Klavier murmured sympathetically.

“I don’t believe in fate or whatever, but...I couldn’t ask for a better sister,” Apollo admitted, his expression softening. “Though to be fair, I can ask said sister to stop dragging me on stage with her. I almost lost my eyebrows more than once, and once is already one time too many!”

“You did say better, not perfect,” Klavier teased, laughing. “So, what do you want to do tonight? Are we just stuffing our faces, or did you want to walk around? That bouncy castle looks sehr interessant.”

“Yeah, sure, if we wanna get kicked out,” Apollo snorted. “And I’m not sure yet, I was just gonna go with whatever everyone else wanted. When I used to come here all the time with...with…” His face fell. “Um. You know. He was so eager to try everything, I-I just let him drag me around. Literally.” Klavier looked away for a moment, unsure of what to say. Apollo then tugged on his sleeve so he would turn back, a small smile on his face. “Hey, c’mon. I’m the one who made it weird, don’t you make it weird, too.”

Klavier chuckled, placing his hand over Apollo’s and squeezing. “Why don’t you lead for a change? I mean it, Forehead, what do you want to do tonight?”

“Honestly? I just wanna eat and drink and laugh at the terrible knock-off merchandise with, uh. With you.” Apollo awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Before Klavier could respond, they’d reached the front of the line; Apollo turned to the merchant with a polite smile. “Hi, can we get one order of takoyaki, please? And can we get the sauces on the side?”

“Sure, that’ll be seven dollars,” the merchant replied. “Is this just for you, or are you sharing with your boyfriend?”

Apollo blinked. “Er, s-sorry?”

“I need to know how many toothpicks to give you,” the merchant said, shooting Apollo a strange look.

“I, uh…” Apollo cleared his throat. Klavier looked at him curiously, unsure if Apollo’s reaction was promising or worrying. “Yeah, we’re sharing.”

Once they received their order, they went to stand a little ways away from the crowd to eat and people-watch in companionable silence. Klavier stole the occasional glance in Apollo’s direction every so often, admiring how good he looked in a bucket hat, denim cutoffs, and of course, the hoodie he’d given him. Other than his signature red suit vest, it seemed to be the item of clothing he wore the most these days. Klavier wondered if it still smelled of his cologne, the cologne that Apollo claimed to hate.

“Gavin?” Apollo raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I, um...can I help you?”

“Ah - entschuldigung, I didn’t mean to stare,” Klavier said, ducking his head in embarrassment. “It just surprises me whenever you wear that, you know? Surely, you have other hoodies.”

“I’ve just gotten used to it, I guess,” Apollo shrugged. “And it’s weird, ‘cos it’s yours, but now I mostly associate it with Khura’in. Like, whenever I went for walks before or after work, this was usually the first thing I grabbed, even when it was too warm for me to wear. Something to hold onto, I s’pose.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey - new idea!”

Klavier chuckled at his sudden enthusiasm. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Over there,” Apollo said, gesturing towards the river running alongside the night market. Other market patrons were there as well, eating, talking, and admiring the city skyline. “It’s definitely no Khura’inese scenery, but we could also grab some food and go for a walk, get away from the main crowd and all that.”

“I’d like that,” Klavier replied, popping the last piece of takoyaki into his mouth. “What should we get next, then?”

After much deliberation, the two of them settled on milk tea and crepes, then began walking alongside the river, chatting amicably about nothing in particular while occasionally spotting their friends in the distance. They saw Trucy and Pearl sharing a giant bowl of shaved ice, Ema and Kay marveling at all of the bags for sale - Ema had once mentioned she needed a new one to fit her entire forensics kit - while Athena and Simon were, for some reason, arm-wrestling. Juniper was supervising them with a hint of apprehension in her eyes; Athena appeared to be winning.

As they passed by people going in the opposite direction, Klavier lowered the brim of his cap over his eyes. He felt somewhat nervous, even paranoid, every single time someone looked at him for a little too long. “Not too interested in signing autographs or taking selfies, huh?” Apollo teased when it happened for the fifth time in under twenty minutes. “Nah, I get it. I’m sure it gets pretty exhausting after a while.”

“It’s...it’s not fans I’m worried about,” Klavier confessed, ducking his head once more. “It’s...the opposite, really.”

“Huh?” Apollo’s eyes then widened. “Oh, you mean...o-oh. Has that been happening a lot lately, or…?”

“Just...more than it should,” Klavier said quietly, so quietly that Apollo almost couldn’t hear him over the noise of the night market. “Anyway, I’d rather not get into it. Tell me more about your mother, you said the other day that her memories were coming back to her, ja?”

Apollo eyed him worriedly, but decided not to comment. “Yeah, yeah, uh - mostly stuff about Trucy, and Trucy’s dad, and her time with the troupe. Not so much the before, the me and...and my dad part. It was...I tried asking her, y’know, basic stuff about him. Like what his voice sounded like, what kind of person he was...but it’s all bits and pieces for her. Little tiny things, not significant details. She remembered that he didn’t like spinach and he had a pair of lucky socks, but she wasn’t sure if my voice sounded anything like his, or how they picked my name, or what their first date was. Stuff like that.” He visibly swallowed.

“I’m sure that must have been frustrating for both of you,” Klavier said, humming in sympathy.

“I don’t know what to feel sometimes.” An odd look crossed Apollo’s face then, like he wasn’t sure where his words had come from, but he seemed determined to keep going. “Obviously, I-I’m happy to have her in my life, and to see her doing so well after what she went through, but...it’s not like I had this...this attachment to my dad that she did. And sure, I wanna know more about him, but sometimes, i-it feels like I’m doing it more for her than for me. But that makes me sound like a shitty person, like I-I don’t care about him. Like he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Klavier went silent for a moment, thinking. It was hard to concentrate when he could hear Apollo’s breath growing increasingly erratic; he so desperately wanted to wrap him up in a hug, though he wasn’t sure if Apollo would want him to. “If you ask me, you sound like a good person who cares about his mother,” he finally said after some time. “And even if your biological father isn’t as important to you as he was to her, he still means something to you. You know that.”

“Do I?” Apollo chuckled wetly, wiping his damp eyes with the sleeve hem of his hoodie. “And Trucy - god, Trucy, sh-she’s…”

“What about her?” Klavier asked, frowning.

“It’s not like either of us likes to think about it, but…” Apollo chewed his bottom lip. “If something happened to Mom, then...well. It’s not like it’s new to us...losing people. When do I get to the point where I can accept it? Where I know...I-I can’t do anything to stop it?” He let out another horrible laugh. “Shit, that sounded so heartless. Th-that’s not what I meant, I - ”

“I know what you meant,” Klavier promised somewhat sadly. “Have you talked to her about it? Or...either of them, really.”

“No, but it...it’s why Trucy wants us to hang out practically every day.” Apollo stopped for a moment, turning to watch Trucy, who was currently shoveling huge spoonfuls of shaved ice and red bean into her mouth, with a fond smile. “She won’t say it, but I-I know her. I can tell what she’s thinking. Even before we found out we were siblings, she seemed...kinda worried that I was gonna leave again. Or that I wasn’t gonna come back in the first place, even when I said I would.”

“Maybe it’s time you have that conversation,” Klavier suggested. “It won’t be a pleasant conversation, but it seems...necessary, ja?”

Apollo exhaled shakily. “Yeah, I know, I know. It’s just...there’s always something. A trial o-or a show or whatever. But, uh, honestly? I just don’t like thinking about it. Like, ever.”

“I don’t blame you,” Klavier admitted, rubbing Apollo’s arm reassuringly. “I wouldn’t want to open myself up to that kind of personal scrutiny, either.” He paused. “I...gave Trucy some similar advice a while back, you know. Advice that I should’ve taken myself, should still be taking myself, but...it’s like they say. Easier said than done.”

“Easier said than done,” Apollo echoed in agreement, sighing.

Another minute or two passed in silence, accompanied by the noisy chatter and whistling winds around them. Apollo seemed to be thinking intensely about something, but with everything they’d talked about, not just now, but over the past year, Klavier couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. Then, he lifted his head to look Klavier right in the eye. “Why did you call me in Khura’in, that first time?”

Klavier’s heart skipped a beat. “...why does it matter?”

“Because...because you’re one of my favorite people, too.” Apollo’s cheeks reddened, though he was clearly trying his best to ignore it. “And I - I wanna know if something happened that day. If...something happened to you.”

“Nothing happened to me,” Klavier said smoothly, trying not to let his dizzying joy at Apollo’s words show. “Trucy suggested I call you sometime, that’s all. Simple as that.”

Apollo’s right hand instantly went to his left wrist. “But that’s not all there is to it, is it?”

“Is this a cross-examination now?” Klavier asked, letting out an uneasy laugh. He turned on his heel and continued to walk. “You’re going to find my tell, are you? My nervous habit? It’s a nice night, Forehead, let’s not spoil it.”

“I just wanna understand you, Klavier.” Klavier stopped dead in his tracks; he could feel Apollo’s eyes on his back. “Look, if it’s such a big secret, or if you just don’t wanna tell me, I-I’ll shut up about it already. But I just - I worry about you sometimes. You’re always so...so calm. And helpful, a-and sweet, and...I get what it’s like to put on a brave face. To pretend that everything’s the way it should be. That’s all I’m saying. So if it really was nothing, then I’ll drop it, okay? I’ll let it go, and move - ”

“I was sitting in my childhood bedroom.” Now he felt lightheaded for a different reason; Klavier dropped his gaze, his body swaying despite the fact he was standing perfectly still. Apollo quickly stepped around him so they were face-to-face, tucking his empty cup under his arm so he could hold Klavier’s shoulders, his still-wet eyes shining with concern. “I was sitting on my bed, staring at the wall, and suddenly, I-I wanted to talk to the one person in the entire world who - who doesn’t want something from me. Who doesn’t want to ask for my autograph, or my connections, or my help, or...or about Kristoph. Who just wants to talk to me for - for - for me.” Before he could stop himself, his eyes were suddenly filling with tears. Klavier clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out.

Apollo let out a stifled noise. “Ah - Klavier!”

“Mama, a-and Papa, I - they say they can’t - that it - b-but they still mourn him l-like he’s already - already gone,” Klavier managed to say between short, gasping breaths, his heartbeat pounding alarmingly fast in his ears. He desperately clutched at his chest, but he was unable to find his grip. The ground, his surroundings, they all seemed to be spinning around him. “And I-I want to say - ‘I’m still here, y-you have me’ - and they know, but th-they - ”

“Breathe, Klavier, breathe,” Apollo urged. “Look at me, watch me, okay? In...out...in...”

Klavier dropped his cup entirely, desperately clinging onto Apollo’s shoulders, anticipating that his knees were about to give out beneath him. He swallowed a few generous lungfuls of air, trying not to cough or exhale directly in Apollo’s face, all while his eyes were fixated on Apollo’s - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, usually, though in the moonlight, more akin to the color of ink. “I’m okay,” Klavier whispered, though tears were still rolling down his cheeks. “Sorry, I - ”

“Don’t apologize,” Apollo said firmly. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to - we don’t - we don’t have to talk about this.”

“Nein, I - I want to tell you.” Klavier cleared his throat, wiping his face on his sleeve; he knew he looked like a mess, he knew that they were in public, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Bitte, will you let me?”

“Yeah, o-of course.” Now it was Apollo's turn to rub his arm comfortingly. “But, uh, I think we should sit. There’s a bench over there, are you good to move?”

Once they managed to sit down, both of them visibly shaking, Apollo placed a trembling hand on Klavier’s knee, nodding for him to try again. “I was trying to say that - that I’ve always been our parents’ favorite. I was more outgoing, more curious, and I think they especially liked that about me.” Klavier’s breath was still shallow; he paused to take another deep, measured breath. “So when I say that...that I feel responsible somehow...that I played a part in his madness, his cruelty...I-I’m not just talking about Zak Gramarye’s trial.”

“You don’t mean…” Apollo sucked in a breath of his own. “You think he resented you, don’t you?”

“I think it’s more like...he never liked getting ignored, passed over, for someone else. For me, for Herr Wright…” Klavier swallowed thickly. “And then I go home to my parents, a-and they promise me it’s not my fault, that I was merely a pawn, but - but I can tell that, deep down, they miss him. They mourn him, like he’s no longer here. They're packing his things, cleaning out his room...trying to pretend he never existed, because it’s easier than living with the truth. But they slip sometimes. All the time, really. Because, at the end of the day...he still means something to them. To me.”

“Klavier,” Apollo said softly, squeezing Klavier’s knee. He seemed unsure of what to say.

“I can try all I want, but there’s no pretending for me,” Klavier continued bitterly, his voice growing stronger, louder. “Do reporters want to ask about my success as a prosecutor or my music career? Nein, they want to ask how it felt to prosecute my own brother and my own bandmate. Do my coworkers want to know how my weekend was or if I’m free to hang out? Nein, they only ask how I’m feeling when I seem less than perfect because it makes them uncomfortable. When I go to family gatherings, do they tease me about my love life or ask me how work is going? Nein, they want to know if he and I really are cut from the same cloth. No one - no one ever really wants to ask me about me. Just me.”

“Klavier - ”

“And I know they try,” Klavier sighed. “And I don’t mean to be...I’m trying not to ask for much. But how do I really know, that when Herr Edgeworth tells me I’m doing a good job, that I really am doing a good job? If Herr Blackquill tells me I seem to be happier these days, does he mean it, o-or is he telling me what he knows I want to hear?” He paused. “How do I...do I trust any of my family members - nein, how do I trust my own judgment...when the one person I grew up with...when he...when the people I-I thought I knew turned out to be...” He shook his head, unable to finish his sentence.

“For what it’s worth...you know I'm in your corner, yeah?” Apollo offered. “You know I won't...that I don't bullshit you. But still, I...I’m so sorry, that’s...that’s terrible. So when you texted me after your cousin’s wedding...”

Klavier nodded resignedly. “Ja, exactly. I don’t...it feels like…” He felt tears forming in his eyes again; he quickly wiped them away before they could fall. “...never mind, it’s stupid. It’s childish, i-it’s selfish, I - ”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Apollo gave him a watery, encouraging smile. “What is it?”

Klavier went silent for what felt like hours, his mind racing to find the precise words he wanted to say. “...it feels like I will always care more about someone else than they will ever care about me.”

Another lengthy pause soon followed, one that made Klavier unbearably nervous. For once, Apollo’s usually expressive face was completely inscrutable. Then, Apollo practically threw himself at Klavier, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close. “Klavier,” he repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time, his voice warm and urgent in Klavier’s ear. “People care about you, okay? You gotta know that. I-I promise, there are people out there who - who care about you more than you think. Like...like me.”

Klavier let out a sobbing, incredulous laugh. “Achtung, Apollo...you do know that I’m in love with you, right?”

Apollo went still. He stared at him, wide-eyed. “You...you are?”

“You mean you really didn’t know?” Klavier could only laugh again, more hopelessly this time; his mouth seemed to be moving faster than his brain. While it usually never happened to him, it seemed like Apollo brought out his honesty more easily than most. He wasn’t sure if that impressed him or terrified him. “With everything that’s been happening between us, you didn’t think - ”

“I-I knew we were getting closer, th-that we were gonna go for drinks, but...I-I thought this was, like. A recent thing for you,” Apollo stammered, still staring at him disbelievingly.

“A recent thing? You mean like your feelings...for me?” Klavier was almost afraid to ask.

“What? No, I - ” Apollo suddenly seemed to realize he still had his arms loosely draped around Klavier’s midsection. He yanked them back like he’d been burned, his cheeks flushed pink. “I mean, yes, yes, d-definitely recent - ”

“Apollo, bitte.” Klavier took Apollo’s hands in his, gently running his thumbs across Apollo’s knuckles. “I know you don’t owe me your honesty, but I’d like to think that after everything I just said, you could afford me just a little bit of it.”

Apollo fell silent, considering. Klavier held his breath in anticipation, heart thumping wildly against his ribcage. Then, Apollo withdrew one hand from Klavier’s grasp, instead lifting it to cup Klavier’s jaw. His eyes were wet once more, his smile impossibly soft. “I hate that you feel like you have to ask for someone else to be honest to you...least of all me,” Apollo murmured. “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine - ”

“But it isn’t!” Apollo interrupted fiercely. “You shouldn’t have to ask for basic decency, especially from someone who’s supposed to care about you. Because - ‘cos god, Klavier, you - you’re - I love you, okay?” Klavier’s mouth fell open, stunned, but no words came out. “I love you and your...your…” Apollo inhaled yet again, taking a moment to think carefully. “You always surprise me, y’know. With how...willing you are to be proven wrong. How open you are to changing your mind. And even though you’re one of the most self-important people I’ve ever met...you still manage to be pretty selfless when it comes down to it. So selfless, that...that...that it worries me sometimes.”

“Worries...you?” Klavier asked, his voice small.

Apollo shot him a shaky smile. “Whether you’re looking out for yourself.”

“I think the last thing anyone could accuse me of is not making something about me,” Klavier said, chuckling wetly. “Take now, for example. We were having such a nice night, until - ”

“ - until you finally got the chance to say what you’ve been wanting to say,” Apollo finished for him. “Just like...like I did. Just now.”

Klavier’s eyes flitted across Apollo’s face, his gaze traveling from his tearful eyes to his parted lips, trying to find a sign, a warning that there was something there other than complete sincerity. When he found nothing, he cracked a grin of his own. “You really love me?”

In lieu of answering, Apollo moved closer, his forehead resting against Klavier’s, their noses barely brushing. Klavier’s breath hitched. Then, Apollo closed the gap between them, kissing him so tenderly, so carefully, that he felt a pleasant shiver go up his spine. Finally. Klavier melted right into him, every muscle in his body seemingly relaxing all at once; he released Apollo’s hand so he could wrap his arms around him, pulling him into his embrace. Apollo was so warm, Klavier thought, his skin surprisingly soft, his lips unsurprisingly rough, not that it lessened Klavier’s joy. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment, not all the people walking by that could easily see them, not the fact that their friends could probably recognize them if they tried. When they reluctantly broke apart, they realized that they both had tears running down their faces.

“..shit.” Apollo let out a wet laugh, sniffling sharply. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie to pull out a packet of tissues, handing one to Klavier before attempting to take care of himself. “That was, uh - ”

“Perfect,” Klavier declared, his grin so wide, it threatened to split his face open.

“I was gonna say ‘gross’, but okay. Whatever you’re into, I guess,” Apollo teased, turning away momentarily to blow his nose. A comfortable silence fell over them as they took a moment to clean themselves up, to wipe their running noses and watery eyes. “Um, but - Klavier, are you okay? Because, well. That seemed like a lot.”

“Ja, I…” Klavier laughed disbelievingly. “...I feel incredible, actually. Like I’ve managed to...to let go of some of the things I’ve been carrying for a little too long. Even if I didn't do anything but drop them.” He then looked at Apollo. “What about you, liebe? We were talking about you, and then it became about me, and - ”

“That’s how conversations work, Klav,” Apollo reminded him. “And all that...I dunno, guilt, loneliness, whatever you wanna call it? That’s been going on for way too long. But for me, it’s...I-I’m still figuring some stuff out. Something I can deal with once I know, y’know?”

“If you’re sure. But...I’m here if you need me, ja? Always.” Klavier brushed a few loose strands of hair out of Apollo’s eyes, then leaned in to kiss him again. This particular kiss was thankfully less damp. “So, ah...what should we do now?”

“Well...I think all that crying made me dehydrated,” Apollo said half-jokingly. He stood, extending a hand in Klavier’s direction. “Will you finally let me pay for one of your drinks? Please?”

“I guess I can indulge you,” Klavier teased, taking Apollo’s hands and getting to his feet as well. Apollo rolled his eyes but pulled Klavier along nonetheless. Their fingers remained entangled, both of them holding on tight, even when they stepped back into the night market crowd.

_____

A few hours later, they found themselves in the elevator of Klavier’s apartment building, on the way up to his penthouse, grinning giddily at each other like lovesick teenagers. Naturally, the others had been suspicious when Apollo told them they were leaving together. Trucy, Athena, and Kay seemed ready to burst with questions, while Ema and Simon had merely watched them go with raised eyebrows. Still, no one said anything but their goodbyes, something both of them were grateful for.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard over there,” Apollo said, smirking. “You’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“Never,” Klavier replied instantly. Even though he knew Apollo was joking, he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t. “Not when it comes to you.”

Apollo’s smile softened. “Good. That’s, uh...that’s good. Same here.”

After they’d washed up and settled in, the two of them collapsed onto Klavier’s bed, right on top of his duvet, comfortably exhausted from everything that had been said and done. Apollo was half-curled into Klavier’s side, yawning every so often while he sent off a few text messages, presumably to Trucy and their mother. Klavier had one hand in Apollo’s hair and the other loosely resting on Apollo’s hip, humming and tapping out a rhythm while he waited for Apollo to finish.

“Sorry,” Apollo said, briefly rolling over so he could set his phone down on the bedside table.

“Nein, nein, it’s okay,” Klavier replied. “I don’t know about you, but I’m wide awake. How am I supposed to fall asleep after a night like that, achtung.”

“Yeah, we definitely had, uh...we definitely had a moment back there.” Apollo sounded both embarrassed and pleased. “God, I hope no one saw us. I have zero interest in becoming a trending hashtag before our first date.”

“You don’t consider this our first date?” Klavier asked curiously.

“I prefer my first dates to be drama-free, thanks,” Apollo drawled. Still, his expression was relaxed, somewhat drowsy. “Though I think, in a way...we kinda needed that. Wish it hadn’t happened in public, but hey, we can’t exactly pick our battles.” At Klavier’s responding chuckle, he frowned slightly. “Klav? What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just - mein Gott, I love you.” Klavier rested his forehead against Apollo’s, his smile warm and open. Apollo returned it with one of his own, his hands resting against Klavier’s chest, Klavier’s heartbeat steady beneath his fingertips. “I know we still have a lot to deal with, but...right now? I couldn’t care less. I’m just...I’m so happy.”

Grinning, Apollo shuffled closer, kissing him chastely. They exchanged slow, meandering kisses for a few minutes, fingers lightly pressed into each other’s sides, legs loosely tangled together. “...dork.”

“Your response is supposed to be ‘I love you, too’, liebe,” Klavier hinted, eliciting a delighted laugh from Apollo’s mouth. “But seriously, I mean it. I really do feel...free.”

“Good,” Apollo said affectionately, cupping Klavier’s face with both hands. “Look, I - I know all that stuff you’re feeling isn’t gonna magically go away, just like that, but...if you still need to hear it…” He then turned his head, his lips brushing against Klavier’s ear. “...it wasn’t your fault. It was his, all his. And people legitimately care about you for reasons that have nothing to do with him or your fame or their own motives. So try not to let anyone make you think otherwise, okay?” Klavier shivered. “And I love you, too. Dork.”

“Ach,” Klavier said, sniffling. “You’re going to make me cry again, baby. How dare you call me a dork.” Apollo burst into laughter once more, burying his face in the crook of Klavier’s neck with a satisfied hum. They went quiet for a little while longer, simply holding each other and enjoying the stillness of the night. “I do have...one last little worry, though.”

“Yeah?” Apollo ran his thumb across Klavier’s cheek. “What is it?”

“I...part of me is worried, that…” Klavier paused, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. “After everything we’ve been through...do you really think this is going to work? Or do you think that we just hope that it will?”

“No use in pretending like we know for sure,” Apollo said honestly. “There’s a million things that could go wrong, y’know? We could get into a really bad argument, we could have problems separating work from our personal lives - hell, we might be better off as friends…”

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” Klavier teased.

“Oh, hush.” Apollo kissed Klavier to silence him. The two of them became momentarily distracted, wrapped up in each other’s embrace once more. Klavier wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to let Apollo go in the morning, not when they’d both waited this long. “All I’m saying is, as long as we try, then…” Apollo’s kiss-bitten lips then stretched into a fond grin. “...I think we’re gonna do just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my seventh and final entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the third of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. However, this fic is best read after day five's, meet me halfway (across the sky), so I would recommend reading that one to fully understand the first half of this fic!

Y'all, I can't believe it's finally over! I feel like I've been working on these fics for ages (and I've fallen behind on others; we'll see if I end up getting two fics out in July like I originally planned), especially this one and day five's. Thank you to the lovelies who organized Klapollo Week, this was super fun to do! I got a little overambitious for sure, but I liked how they turned out. In doing this, I definitely learned that short(er) fics aren't really my thing; I had a good time writing them, but I'm not a concise writer, so I struggled with getting a good balance of plot and details for the fics that were under six thousand words. In fact, I low-key wanna write fuller versions of all of them 😅

If you missed any of the other days, I would love it if you checked them out! My personal favorites are the odd-numbered days, also known as the ones with angst. I'm thinking that sometime next year, I'll write a super long version of meet me halfway (across the sky) where Klavier eventually gets to be with Apollo in Khura'in. Knowing me, that thing will be a monster of fifty-thousand-word proportions. In the meantime, if you're interested in finding out what I'll be posting next, you can filter my fanfiction masterpost by "coming soon"!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you’re all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

[secretlysheikah]

Cracks

 The next chapter is here. I have been a bit off my schedule so I’m giving you this a day early! Please enjoy.

As always I do not own the Linked universe, that belongs to @jojo56830 check them out. 

Trigger warnings: Blood, minor mentions of self-harm

To be honest I’m not sure if these are accurate tags, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Please take care! I don’t want anyone to get upset so please take heed.

Start Here:

A rumble rocked the tree Wild slept under and he startled awake. He blinked slightly dazed and confused, unsure of where he was or for how long he had slept. He looked up at the oddly purple black leaves above him and watched as they shook along with the rumbling beneath him. After another few moments the shaking subsided and everything returned to the eerie stillness from before. Wild looked around a while longer before he decided it was finally time to get ready for the day. He stretched and marveled at the stiffness in his back. He hadn’t fallen asleep in the most comfortable place. 

After seeing Twilight in the puddle the night before and feeling utterly exhausted both mentally and physically, he had wondered about for a few minutes looking for a place to rest. He had considered a few trees at first but feeling his flagging energy he had simply found a bunch of bushes and had just fallen into them. He had fallen asleep not too long after that, expecting only to sleep for a few hours. However judging by the placement of the oddly bright black sun above him it seemed he had been asleep for a good portion of the day. That thought jarred him slightly, he looked around furtively trying to spot any movement in the trees around him. Sky had to be out on the lookout by now and he didn’t want to be surprised. 

Seeing nothing moving around him Wild took a moment to take stock of his current predicament. He had made a fair amount of poor choices to be sure. His arm ached at the memory of the melted Four, and his body felt sore from his mad dash through the trees. Not only that but he had allowed himself to become separated from Sky, and that bothered him. Now he could be anywhere, and the chances of being caught unawares made his nerves buzz with tension. He tried his best to shake it off as he stood and stretched his legs out. 

He didn’t really have a plan, which again, wasn’t great but he counted that he had woken up alone as a victory, even if it was a small one. And because he hadn’t been found in the night only served to prove that they didn’t know exactly where he was, yet another small victory. His stomach growled angrily and he grimaced. He really should eat something but he didn’t want to break into his lacking food stores just yet. He wanted to make it last as long as possible. He had been through worse, he could make due with a few missed meals. He picked a direction that looked promising and began to walk aimlessly. He still hadn’t thought of a plan but he hoped that maybe the lack of a plan would correct itself once he got his blood moving again. 

Wild picked at some leaves that were tangled in his hair and stared blankly ahead, his feet moving to automatically step over thick roots and hidden stones. The memory of seeing Twilight in the water bubbled to the surface of his thoughts and he chewed at his lip. He didn’t know if that had been wishful thinking or not. Though another memory worked itself to the surface. He remembered when he and Sky had first dropped into this other world. Sky had told him to run and he had been on his way out of the spring when he had caught a fleeting glimpse of the others in the water below. He had just thought it was a trick of the light or stress that caused him to see the others, and it wasn’t as though  he had  much time to dedicate to investigating the oddity then, but now. He slowed to a stop eyebrows furrowing as he thought.

If he had truly seen the others in the water, then maybe seeing Twilight the previous night hadn’t been a figment of his overtaxed mind. He tapped absently at his slate. How would he even begin to test that? Did the others have to be in the same place as him? Did the type of water count? Or would just any kind of water be enough? He grabbed his slate and pulled out a bottle of clear water and eyed it. He could see the warped trees reflecting in the water but no other faces appeared. Maybe he had to be thinking of the others? Had he been thinking of seeing Twilight? Feeling silly he looked around to make sure he was truly alone before he looked back at the water once more and concentrated his thoughts on seeing a familiar face. 

Nothing. 

He huffed in irritation. So maybe just thinking of the others didn’t make the trick work, if it was even an actual thing that could happen. He put the bottle away for now, not really knowing how else to go about testing anything. Though he supposed finding water would be a good place to start. 

He continued his aimless wandering. He didn’t know where he was so trying to find a natural source of water seemed a bit of a larger task than he felt ready for just then. And anyways what if the others had to be at the same place in order for it to work? How likely would it be that they just so happened to meet up in the same place as him. He had been on the run for the better part of a day after all. He was likely miles away from the group and knowing his luck last night had been just a fluke. He kicked at a hidden stone beneath the leaves and watched as it skittered away in the underbrush just ahead of him. 

He kept walking but the thoughts didn’t leave him. They nagged away at him and commanded his attention long after he decided he was done thinking about it. Sighing in annoyance again he stopped and turned his face to the sky. He had to do something, he had to think of something. But as hard as he tried he could get his thoughts away from Twilight’s tired eyes that looked up at him from the puddle. 

He took stock again of what he knew, which was once again very little. Sky and Dark could be anywhere, and while that made him nervous there wasn’t much to be done about it. He could begin backtracking, searching for the missing Sky and keeping an eye out for Dark but at the same time they would be on the lookout for him as well. Which if that were the case why even look at all? He could just climb a tree and keep lookout, which seemed far easier than wearing himself out walking around the forest floor. His curiosity about the water burned through his mind and he knew just hiding in a tree to wait would only serve to drive him mad. Wild shrugged, the idea of waiting for his own personal search party to come to him sounded far easier, yes, but he wasn’t about to make it easy for them. He let a small smile play across his lips. 

“Might as well look for some water then while I wait.” He whispered quietly to himself and with a tiny chuckle he began to trot off into the trees on the hunt for some water. 

*******

It was dark, and cold and the ground below his cheek felt distinctly different than the feel of leaves on a forest floor. Sky groaned and pressed his hands flat against the ground and tried to lever himself up into a seated position. His chest ached from laying on the ground for so long, and his wrists felt raw and stiff. After a moment of awkward struggling he managed to sit and rested his head in his hands. He shivered in the cold and drew his sail’s cloth around his shoulders in a vain attempt to stave off the chill. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in the dark, wasn’t even sure what time it was, but slowly he came to realize he wasn’t outside anymore. The air here felt musty and oddly chilled and when he ran his fingers on the ground he felt the distinct feeling of a cobble stone floor. He still couldn’t see anything, the room was too dark and his eyes couldn’t pick out any light. Carefully he stood and felt his legs wobble for a moment. Tentatively he stretched his arms out and walked forward searching for walls. He had only taken a few steps when his knee collided with something hard. He let out a curse and doubled over rubbing at his knee as it throbbed. It had felt like a bench of some sort and he reached out and felt along it’s contours. It was wooden and rough and just long enough to lay down on. He felt chains connecting it to the wall and from there he hugged close to the cold stone and walked around the perimeter of the room. It wasn’t a large room by any means and after a few minutes of awkward shuffling he came back to the bench. He hadn’t felt a door, or even any bars or windows. It was like he was in some sort of closet, or…

‘An oubliette,’ A tiny voice chirped in his mind, as it supplied the word Sky really didn’t want to hear. 

‘A little place of forgetting, a place for madness to grow, how fitting, seeing you’re well on your way to losing your mind,’ a dark whisper drifted through his thoughts and Sky felt himself shudder. The voice drifted away with another soft laugh leaving him alone in the dark and silence. 

He rubbed absently at his knee and sat on the bench. He felt it groan dangerously under his weight but it held. The darkness was suffocating, and the longer he sat the more tense he felt. His wrists itched, his knee still throbbed and he felt distinctly alone. He noted how everything was scarily silent too. The silence beat down on his ear drums and he could hear his own heart pumping blood through his veins. 

“Well, I hate this,” Sky declared quietly if only to fill the air. To somehow lift the oppressive silence. He began to hum to himself, and before long he felt himself curling in a tight ball, pressing his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Small bursts of light flashed behind his eyes and he nearly cried in relief. It was something, even if the lights only lasted a few seconds. His humming became strained and warbled, seeming frantic and uneven to his suddenly ringing ears. He started to pick at the healing wounds on his wrists but even the thrum of dulled pain wasn’t enough to fill the darkness. Warmth coated his fingertips. He continued to pick. 

“I see you’re finally awake sky child,” A warm voice suddenly cut through the darkness and Sky felt his head jerk up in shock. His hands stilled their incessant picking, the warmth that covered his fingertips began to cool quickly. He could feel his chest was heaving in great gasps of air and he stood. He felt like he was already going insane and just having something filling the air around him made his whole body quake.   

“What is this? What’s happening?” Sky called into the darkness, his mouth felt dry and no matter how wide he opened his eyes he still couldn’t see a damn thing.

“I thought you needed some alone time.” Dark’s voice floated out into the room once again and Sky whipped his head around trying to figure out where it was coming from. His fingers twitched and he felt warmth drip off of his fingertips. 

“You’re looking a little wild in the eyes there kid, how are you holding up?” His voice chuckled and Sky grit is his teeth, refusing to answer.. 

“Is it the dark that’s got you all whipped up?” Dark’s voice mused, and Sky looked to his left sure that was where the voice came from.

“Maybe it’s the silence? I mean I find it peaceful but that’s just me,” There was a hum and he felt a pressure on his wrists. Sky gasped at the sensation and pulled his wrists away, taking a few steps back to gain some space between him and Dark. The voice tsked and he heard the small bench groan as weight settled down on it. Sky grabbed at his wrist, holding it so tightly  that it ached. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as the silence returned but he knew he wasn’t alone. 

“What do you want?” He hissed out into the black room, his whole body was starting to shake with barely contained anger and fear. His heart was beating like a small frantic bird that had been trapped in a cage and he didn’t know how to make it slow. It was so loud he was sure Dark could hear it from where he sat.

“I just wanted to check in, see how my little buddy was doing. By the looks of it, not well. Poor dear,” Dark sighed and somehow Sky could tell he was giving him a little pout. He sneered back, his hand tightening on his wrist even more and he could feel blood welling out from between his fingers. The fingertips on his other hand were starting to go numb and he tried to relax his grip.

“You know I envy you guys, you all have a purpose you know?” Dark said, suddenly changing the subject and Sky felt his eyes narrow in suspicion. He shook his head clamping his mouth shut tight. He didn’t know what to say to that so he just waited. He wondered where Dark was going with this odd line of thinking. He didn’t trust it. 

“I remember when I first came into being, just a shadow, no thoughts, just there,” Dark said wistfully, Sky heard him shift on the bench again and he imagined Dark leaning back, as if deep in thought. 

“I can still hear the first words I ever knew, ‘conquer yourself’,” the weight of the room grew and Sky found himself holding his breath despite himself. HIs curiosity beat out the careful weariness that had been there not moments before and he felt himself leaning in slightly. 

“I saw the hero of Time standing before me and I thought those words were for me, little did I know they were meant for him,” Dark sighed, the weight shifted again. 

“I was so curious, was that what I looked liked then? A weedy man holding a sword and shield with a bobbing fairy at my side? It was strange and I tried my best to fight him, to follow the only command I knew but I failed.” Dark’s voice sounded like it was miles away, the words drifted like a breeze through his mind.

Sky felt like he was drifting, images floating through his mind that  wasn’t his own. He could see a young Time, face unmarred by his strange markings with a hard look in his eyes. He could feel determination burning in his own soul, a need to win. To conquer his foe. He felt his soul sink as Time swung the final blow, and then he felt nothing at all, just empty. He felt himself sway as the visions left him and he stumbled before catching himself. His hand drifted up to his forehead and he blinked a few times, trying to come back to the room he was standing in. 

“I drifted a while after that, watching the great Kingdom of Hyrule as it grew and prospered. I even watched it fall. The timelines split into pieces and formed back together. I was everywhere and nowhere. I fought the other heroes when I was summoned. I lost every time. A failure, nothing but a tool, or a lesson.” Dark said his voice devoid of emotion. Sky felt as if the room itself held its breath, enraptured at his words. 

 “Tell me, was I only a tool? Wouldn’t you want to be something?” Dark asked but Sky suspected he didn’t want an answer. The bench creaked and groaned as he stood. 

“I need to go now, things are changing as we speak, and I wager you need some more time to think,” Dark said and Sky felt a thrill of anxiety at his words. He didn’t want to be alone with the darkness and the silence again. He heard boot heels clicking against the floor and soft hands grabbed at his arms and this time he didn’t move to pull away. His mind was buzzing too much to fight as a soft grip wrapped around his sore and bleeding wrists. 

“I will have to do something with these wrists of yours, I don’t need you being unable to function,” Dark muttered and Sky felt a blazing heat fair up painfully around abused wrists, followed by the smell of burned skin in the air as the wounds cauterized. Dark’s hands left him and he let his arms fall to his side. 

“Don’t go picking at them again or else I’ll just cut off your hands and use one of your other friends,” Sky felt his breaths coming in short gasps at the threat and nodded slowly. The sound of boots walked away from him and he felt a pop in the air. He was alone in the dark once again and he slowly shuffled over to the bench. It creaked loudly as he sat on it and curled up against the wall. Dark’s story battered at the insides of his mind, and he let it. The visions he had seen filled his permanently darkened room and no matter how hard he tried to blink them away they remained. His fingers twitched but he resisted the urge to touch his wrists. The only sound that filled the room was the noise of his heart racing and his own broken humming. 

********

The sun made it’s slow way across the sky and Wild felt no where close to finding any natural bodies of water. He felt distinctly frustrated at this turn of events and he threw himself down next to a large tree to rest. Sweat beaded on his brow and he wiped it away with a tired sigh. It appeared he was more lost than he had realized and that made his stomach twist. He pulled out one of his bottles of water again and uncorked it, letting himself take small sips of the cool liquid. He was mindful not to drink too deeply, still wanting to conserve some water just in case. Dark had said that with some purification the water here could be drinkable but he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to risk it or not.

The earth rumbled below him again and he put a hand to the ground when he felt a subtle crack below him. He wondered if the earth itself was telling him something. He corked the bottle quickly and stowed it away suddenly uneasy. He didn’t like whatever was coming but he wasn’t sure if there was anything to really be done about it. He stood quickly as he felt another crack reverberate through the ground, deciding it would be better to stay on the move. He picked a direction and continued walking, eyeing the trees with distrust as he went and keeping an ear out for the sound of water.

The ground gave another shudder under his feet and Wild stumbled. There was no doubt that things were happening. It was like the world he found himself was in the process of shattering and now he couldn’t ignore his growing concern any longer. He knew very little about the world he found himself in and it showed in every blind guess and newly formed crack in the earth. He worked his way through the forest with renewed caution, keeping eye out for any shift in the geography of the world around him. 

After a few more minutes of careful hiking he finally came to a break in the trees. It was a naturally formed rock wall that seemed to surround a small clearing. A large tree grew from the ground not ten feet away and Wild made his way over to it and eyed one of the limbs that grew close to the wall. It wasn’t too close but he could reach it, and after more careful consideration he leaned out and snagged the branch. He leapt off the wall and hauled himself up onto the limb and crawled towards the trunk. When he got to the center he found something odd. It looked like a dilapidated roof or sorts.

 Holes were scattered across the tilted surface of the moss covered roof and it looked like the tree was slowly breaking it down. He stepped out onto the roof and made his way over to one of the holes to look in. He noted the ominous creaking as he went and thought light thoughts as he went, taking careful steps in an attempt to avoid falling through the rotting roof.         

It was dark inside and Wild had to squint in order to make out some of the details but he thought he could make out what looked like old dusty and broken down furniture of what must have been a quaint little home. There were even windows, but they were either broken or covered in thick layers of strange black ivy. He felt a little pang of sadness as he looked around the space below him and he wondered what it would have looked like before it fell into ruin. He shook his head and moved away from the hole and picked his way back to the edge of the roof. He swung himself down into the small porch before making his way down the rotting ladder avoiding the broken rungs as he went. 

When his feet touched ground he faced the small overgrown clearing. There were the remains of training dummies almost hidden in the grass, a place where someone must have hitched a horse and even a small trough filled with fetid black water. He sidled over to it and looked into it half hoping to see a familiar face but only seeing his own haggard face looking back at him. He scoffed, he should have guessed it wouldn’t be that easy. He straightened and looked around again, trees grew tall and a thick underbrush was slowly encroaching on what was left of the small clearing. He made his way through the overgrowth, looking for a path or something that would lead a way out of the small clearing when he finally came across an opening. The pathway had tall rock walls on either side of it and a thrill of recognition flooded him. It looked like the small road the others and himself had taken when they made their way to the spring. A satisfied huff left him and he made his way down the path in search of the spring. 

He had to skirt around fallen rocks in the road and the occasional rumble left him wobbling a few times but he managed, and soon he had heard the unmistakable sound of falling water and he rushed into the spring. It was looking a little worse for wear. The rock walls that had surrounded it were well and truly crumbling now. Newly fallen trees disrupted the water’s edge in some places, and large rocks dotted the water where they had fallen into the spring, disrupting parts of the small waterfall. 

There was a thin crack along the edge of the water and he could see sand trickling into it. It was clear then that the earth itself was indeed tearing itself apart. Though he supposed it was possible that this was just an odd passing of time showing what would become of Twilight’s version of Hyrule, but the more he looked around the less likely it seemed. He walked over to one of the fallen trees and examined the roots that stretched up towards the sky. They looked rotted and black with red lines weaving their way across the surface, spreading like veins of an odd fungus. The leaves also looked spotted and ragged and casting his eyes to the remaining trees left standing he could make out the same spots dotting their leaves as well. It was only a matter of time until they too fell. The whole world around him seemed to be dying and he was amazed it took him this long to notice. 

Another rumble rocked the ground below him and a deafening crack split the air as another tree crashed into the spring. The wood groaning long after it had settled into its new watery grave. It was clear that seeking higher ground was not an option anymore. It would be too dangerous, he drummed his fingers against his leg as he thought about what to do. He could always hide amongst the fallen limbs of the trees, their diseased leaves still offered adequate cover still but it still made him slightly nervous. Seeking cover in the fallen trees was a double edged sword, his cover while masking where he was hiding, could also block his view of anyone who could be sneaking up on him. 

A rippling reflection out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Wild stepped closer to the water’s edge and gasped. He could see Hyrule as he walked into the water with a bucket in hand, and he had just enough time to spot Legend just beside him before the ripples obscured his vision. He felt his mouth drop open in astonishment, so it hadn’t been a hallucination after all. 

He quickly looked around the spring, his eyes falling onto the waterfalls ahead of him and there he could see the two others clearly. He watched as Legend’s eyes fell on him, saw how the other’s mouth fell open and his eyes widen before he said something that Wild couldn’t hear. Legend began to run into the water and Wild found himself running into the water as well. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even know how to explain how happy he was to see their faces, he could have wept with joy. As it was he imagined his mouth was hanging so wide open that a passing bird (if there had been any in this place) could have used it as a nest. Legend and Hyrule looked surprised as well and Wild smiled widely and began waving madly at them, joy fluttering in his heart, only to have it crash not a moment later when a soft amused voice came from behind him. He whipped around, already feeling the warm fuzzy feelings turn to ice in his heart. 

“I see you finally figured it out,” Dark said lazily and Wild looked back at the waterfall only to find the water empty. He turned to face Dark, his arm burned at the sight of him and Wild felt fury building in his soul. 

“How’s the arm? I hope it’s doing well,” Dark said as he made his way over to the water and eyed the cracks in the ground. He seemed completely at ease and unconcerned and that only made Wild feel even angrier. 

“So you could see us through water, I’ll admit that is clever,” Wild spat as his fingers drifted towards his slate. His mind was filled with thoughts of water, puddles, rivers, oceans. All a portal for Dark to keep an eye on them and delight at their confusion and misery. He ached to summon a blade, to run this thing through again and again even if it left him stranded. Dark eyed him for a moment and took a step closer, the tips of his boots darkening with the water. 

“It is rather clever isn’t it? Though I must admit it is a bit limited as you might have noticed. Sound doesn’t really travel through water all that well,” Dark said coolly as he gestured to the rippling water at his feet. 

“Sky was such a useful tool, I could see and hear everything! So much drama, so much indecision and worry. It was positively amusing,” Dark said as a grin played across his face. 

“It’s almost a shame that I had to show my hand so quickly, but alas, that is the game we play,” He said, the same smile turning rueful as he kicked absently at a rock. 

At that Wild took an angry step forward, his fingers tapping at the slate on his hip and summoned a wicked looking symitar and pointed it at Dark. 

“This will be a game you lose, mark my words,” Wild hissed as his hand shook with barely contained rage. He scoffed and rolled his eyes and Wild vowed once again to make sure Dark suffered, suffered the way he had made them all suffer. 

“Come now, this is no time to fight. Surely you’ve noticed the changes?” Dark asked as he gestured to the decaying woods around them. The world gave another harsh rumble almost to illustrate his point and Wild dared look around at the shaking leaves and rippling water. A thrill of panic chorused through his heart and his grip tightened further on the pommel. 

“What is happening? Where is Sky?” Wild barked, the sword dropping slightly as he worked to keep himself steady. 

“The sky child is fine for now, though I find it amusing it took you this long to remember him. Maybe your memory is getting worse.” Dark said as he looked at the ground and took a step back from the widening crack in the earth. WIld almost felt woozy at the thought, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t even considered Sky in all of this. Was he okay? Was Dark just lying? Guilt wrapped around him like a vice and he struggled to breathe. The sword dropped lower and Dark grinned again. 

“Don’t worry, your friend is safe. I fear for you though, things are about to get interesting around here,” Dark said as yet another earth rattling quake made Wild stumble. Dark didn’t even shift his position, made no move to even suggest the world was splitting itself apart at the seams. 

“Hylia is playing with portals again it would seem, how quaint,” Dark said, avoiding a tree as it fell onto the ground next to him. A slightly irritated look crossed his face and he plucked a rotting leaf off a branch and flicked it away. 

“What do you mean Hylia is playing with portals?” Wild asked the sword now hanging forgotten at his side. Dark tilted his head as he considered his response. 

“This world, this place in between, it’s not very stable as you might have guessed. As portals are created, the world around us will shift and change to match the new one that has been summoned.” Dark said throwing his arms wide as he gestured to the very forest itself. 

“Shouldn’t be long now,” He said idly as he eyed the still growing crack between them.  

Wild thought this over for a moment, the gravity of the situation making itself painfully clear. He didn’t know what world was going to manifest. More importantly, he didn’t know what ground would be safe, if any depending on the world. Would he find himself in the middle of an ocean? What if he fell into a volcano or was stuck in the middle of a dessert. No matter what way he looked at it, here wasn’t much he could do besides roll with the punches and hope for the best. He really hoped the Goddess didn’t choose Wind’s Hyrule, the idea of being stranded in the middle of an ocean with no help in sight was really not something he wanted. 

“I see the gears turning in your brain Wild, I could help you, you know. I could bring you to Sky and it would be a grand little reunion, ” Dark said kindly and Wild glared at him. Hatred made a home for itself in his heart and he couldn’t stop the fire from growing.  

“Though judging by the look on your face I would guess that your answer is no. Poor Sky, he could really use a friend right about now,” Dark pouted before tapping a finger against his chin to think. Wild felt his hands beginning to shake. 

“I could always grab someone else there are plenty of you heroes to choose from still,” Dark said as he looked down at the water at Wild’s feet and smiled. 

“Well would you look at that! Looks like I have a volunteer!” Dark laughed giddily as he rubbed his hands together in glee. Wild looked down and his heart stopped. Instead of his own reflection he saw Hyrule standing where he was now except facing the opposite direction. His hands were fists at his sides, eyes hard and angry and Wild wondered what he was seeing that made him so angry. Wild’s head snapped up to look at Dark. His eyes were glowing a bright red and he raised his hand. Wild looked back down and could see tendrils of water spooling up from the water just behind Hyrule. 

“What a fool that Vet is, leaving someone behind like that, and the healer no less! How delightful, Sky could really use the help after all,” Dark laughed and he snapped his hand closed. Wild watched in horror as the tendril shot out and wrapped themselves around Hyrule’s arms and legs. He watched as Hyrule let out a cry that he couldn’t hear and began to struggle in the water’s grip. Another tendril wrapped around Hyrule’s throat and snaked up to cover his mouth and his struggling became more panicked. 

“NO!” Wild roared and shot forward towards Dark sword raised as he ran. Dark’s glowing eyes widened in glee and let Wild run at him. Dark pulled his hand towards himself and Wild could see the water around him ripple and jump around him as tendrils shot out from the spring. He ducked and dodged them easily and when he was close enough he swung his blade at Dark’s chest. 

The sword passed through him like smoke and Dark disappeared. Wild felt a presence behind him and he snarled and ducked low avoiding Dark’s sword as it passed over his head. He switched weapons quickly and summoned one of his elemental rods. He turned on his heel and raised the weapon, swinging it in a tight figure eight, firing out a quick succession of icy orbs. Dark took a couple of hasty steps back trying to avoid them, and Wild took advantage darting forward as he changed weapons again as he did so. One of the orbs hit Dark’s hand and he hissed as a ball of ice froze solid around it. He clutched his frozen fist close to his chest and continued to back up and away from Wild’s crazed swings of his royal claymore. 

Wild had him off balance and he pressed his advantage changing weapons once again to a short sword and moved in close. Dark widened his stance and drew out his sword stopping Wild’s blade just inches away from his throat. The sound of screeching metal filled the air as they locked blades, one aiming to kill while the other worked to hold the other blade at bay. Wild slid his foot forward to gain more power behind his sword. Dark laughed and let him before he shifted his weight to the side causing Wild to stumble as their blades screeched and fell away from each other. Dark threw his frozen hand out to the side, the ice shattering off in sharp shards before he swung it in a scooping motion. Wild moved with the momentum of his stumble and rolled as pillars of water shot out from the water below in sharp spears. Before he realized it he was a few yards away from Dark and staring down the length of an arrow. Dark smiled and let the bolt fly. Wild made to move but found his foot caught in a watery grip. Time slowed as he watched the arrow fly his way, and he knew he couldn’t get away in time. Making a snap choice he twisted headless of the pain in his ankle and instead of getting an arrow to the gut it stuck firmly in his side instead. The grip on his leg vanished and he crashed into the water, clutching at his side for a moment before he got to his feet once again. 

“That was a cheap shot,” Wild growled as he took his sword and brought it down on the shaft of the arrow. It  cut away cleanly,  allowing him the freedom of motion once again without the arrow getting in the way. Dark shrugged and sent him a devilish grin his way. Wild could feel blood and water soaking his side but he ignored it and raised his sword once again ready to continue the fight when the earth made a shrieking sound as rock and soil cracked, split and began to lift away from the ground. 

“Looks like it’s time Champion! You better hold on to something,” Dark called out to him as he disappeared in a puff of smoke leaving Wild to stumble and crash back down to the water. He heard the split in continue to grow as the spring became its own island that started to rise into the sky. Water spilled over the edges and Wild felt a part of the ground fall away at his back forcing him to scramble closer to the center of the spring. Rocks sprouted out from the ground like flowers and water shot into the air as it was displaced. The stillness of the water that was once the spring was quickly turning into a rushing river and Wild had to fight against the pull lest he was washed over the edge of the floating island. He felt as well as heard the sound of rocks slam into the edges of the island even as other parts fell away, changing the entire layout of the earth around him with dizzying speed. Water rushed over his head and he felt his grip slip for a moment causing him to nearly fly off the edge of the island.  

In a moment of sheer panic he only just managed to hold on to the edge of the waterfall and with strength born of desperation he pulled himself up and over the edge, powering his way against the raging water and back onto solid ground. He coughed and hacked as he clung onto the rocks below for dear life. Turning his face to the side as more water rushed over his head and worked to pull himself along the solid rocks of the river bed. His side burned, and his arms shook as he struggled through the water towards the edge. It felt like it took hours to get to the side of the river but he never gave up his single minded determination to get out of the water. Once he got close enough he pulled himself on to the bank of the river and flopped himself over the rocks that lined the newly formed water way and just breathed, too spent to do more than that.

He didn’t know how long he laid there in a daze of exhaustion and relief, but he knew it was a fairly long time. He noted slowly that if he were to pass out right then there would be a good chance that he would bleed out thanks to the water. He could feel his boots drifting in the current behind him and he felt the sharp sting of the arrow lodged in his side. The sound of rocks and cracking earth began to slow, and Wild sincerely hoped that meant the worst of the shift was over and that it was safe to move. 

He groaned and dragged himself the rest of the way out the water. The air felt thin, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the ordeal he just managed to survive or if the air was actually thin. Either way he had things to do, he had to move. The most pressing issue he had to focus on was the arrow lodged in his side so he decided to start with that. He gave a shaky sigh and hauled himself up to a seated position before slowly getting to his feet. He staggered when he felt his ankle throb, and his legs felt wobbly and sore already. He clutched at his side with weak hands and looked around for a moment before spotting a tree to sit against to work. 

When he finally shuffled his way over to it he practically collapsed into the trunk and slid down to the ground. His hands shook as he tenderly felt along the edges of the wound on his side, assessing the damage with a practiced eye. A small piece of the arrow stuck out from the wound marking where it had landed and he touched it tenderly, letting out a pained gasp when it sent a shock wave of pain through his side. He laid his head back against the tree and breathed heavily through his nose. When the pain ebbed down to a manageable level he gingerly pulled the hole in his warm doublet open further and took a closer look. Blood and water ran down his side and the skin was bruising nicely already. Blood leaked around the small piece of arrow sticking out and he wiped it away with shaky fingers. Every time he breathed in he could feel the head of the arrow shift slightly and he hoped it wasn’t causing too much more damage. He pulled out his slate and fumbled through the different screens selecting an old ratty shirt, a dagger and one of his bottles of clean water. A thought hit him suddenly and before he put the slate away he grabbed two baked apples as well. He could tell he would need them after he was done. 

He set the apples aside for now and began to cut the shirt into small strips, wincing as the motion caused pain to flair in his side. Once that was done he grabbed the bottle of water and took a drink before sloshing some of the water onto the wound to clear away some more blood. Deciding he put it off long enough he put the bottle down, grabbed a piece of shirt and in one swift motion and before he could talk himself out of it grabbed the remaining shaft of the arrow and ripped it out. 

His legs kicked out involuntarily and he bit back a cry of pain as the arrow finally came loose with a wet squelching sound. He tossed it to the side, head spinning and clumsily pressed the soft fabric to the wound left behind and applied pressure. His fingers felt wet with warm blood and he grabbed at another scrap of shirt and added it to the other piece. He sat there for a little bit and waited until he felt relatively sure that the bleeding had slowed. He lifted the edge of the makeshift bandage, eyeing the hole left behind and grimaced. It would need stitches that was sure but given that he didn’t have anything to do the job he would have to make do with what he had to hand. He removed the soiled pieces of shirt and grabbed a clean piece, and gently packed the wound before lifting the hem of his doublet and tied a strip of fabric around himself to keep pressure on the wound. 

He let the hem of the shirt drop and slumped against the tree again and panted heavily feeling his body shake and judder harshly from the task. Dark spots floated in his vision and he grabbed clumsily at one of the apples and began to eat slowly to avoid making himself sick. When he was done he turned to face the tree and laid down, lifting his legs and planting his feet on the trunk so his legs were elevated.  He hoped this would stop him from slipping into shock. The world was spinning around him, black spots continued to burst in his vision and he closed his eyes until the feeling passed. He grabbed for the bottle of water and carefully took slow sips. When the bottle of water was empty he set it down and picked up the other apple and ate. It was soft and sweet and the more he ate the better he felt. He laid still for a few minutes longer before he grabbed his slate and changed into his snowquill outfit. The warm clothing heated his cold skin and he hadn't realized how cold he had been until he felt his joints loosen up. Finally he let his legs drop and he sat himself back up carefully and looked around at his new surroundings. 

He could see odd black clouds drifting lazily by and the light of the black sun almost made the place glow. Still there was no wind, the only sound that of the river rushing over the edge of the island. In the distance he could see a large tent and what looked like a small village. He could see a smattering of small islands floating in the clouds, and bridges that seemed to connect the large piece of island to other smaller sections. It clicked then, he was in Sky’s Hyrule. They had been here before but they had all been on the ground below, they had never made it up to the islands in the clouds. He remembered Sky describing where he had grown up, but he wasn’t expecting… This. 

He felt an odd sense of disappointment, he always wanted to see this but not without Sky or the others. He felt a tear slide down his face at the thought, he hoped that Sky was safe and he prayed the others were as well. The vision of Hyrule being attacked in the spring bloomed in his mind like a hideous flower and worry mixed with fear at the thought. He desperately hoped he was okay, that Hyrule was able to break free or that his mad attack on Dark had saved him. His eyes slid across the ground to the small remains of Dark’s arrow, eyes landing on the black, barbed arrowhead with his blood drying on it. A sudden wave of anger had him standing and he scooped up the offending object and hurled it over the edge of the island. The action made his side hurt and he clutched at it until the pain subsided. 

“Bastard,” Wild spat as he fought the urge to throw other things off the edge. Oh he was angry. So terribly angry and frustrated and all he wanted to do was break things and rage at the gentle clouds that drifted by. 

He breathed heavily as he thought it through, how It would be a waste of his precious energy, but the thoughts stuck in his brain like a rot. He found himself continuing to stoke his rage, building the flagging flame into an inferno until he couldn’t stand still any longer. He stalked off toward the small buildings determined to use the destructive energy he had managed to build up to help himself survive, rather than to rage uselessly at the open air. All the while he plotted his next moves and day dreamed of all the ways he wanted to make Dark hurt.

[samwise-writes]

A Promise

This is a one-shot I wrote after many a discussion with @crocwork-clockodile​ about HxH. Chrollo has to be one of the most fascinating characters in the show for me - and I am an absolute simp for him. Why is he so pretty?? Anyways, this is the first and second meeting my OC has with Chrollo, and the interactions that ensue.

Serena meets many strange people on a day to day basis. Interacting with odd individuals is an occupational hazard when you run a Curio and Antique shop that sources most of its wares from Hunters, that also functions as a communications center for said Hunters. However, the man that walks in on a particularily quiet morning seemed stranger than most. She just couldn't put her finger on why.

(CROSS-POSTED TO MY AO3)

The first time he walked into the shop, mentally, she was put off balance because he was so pretty. The bandage that was wrapped around his forehead, dark locks hanging loosely above, did nothing to diminish the beauty that was traced through the angular facial features and the intelligent gleam in his large grey eyes.

She blinked once, and the momentary appreciation moved into irritation. He looked like he belonged in one of the etchings of classical heroes from a rare book that had recently come across her counter. Too pretty.

The man (a walking piece of art, more like it, she scoffed in her head), paused in the doorway of the little shop and looked around before his eyes came to land on her.

“Welcome” she breathed out softly, voice pitched low, as though she was attempting to maintain the silence that had hung heavy over the little shop for the last few hours.

It was his turn to blink at her, and for a moment she felt as though he was sizing her up. It was gone in an instant and the fleeting look of calculation slipped behind a small smile that only lit up the stranger’s handsome features even more. He took a few steps further into the store, hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Hello, I was hoping you could help me find something in particular,” his voice was smooth, a note of warmth that seemed to attempt to draw her in, to encourage her to listen.

She cautiously returned the stranger’s smile.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

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The second time he walked into the shop, his intentions were drastically different than the ones he had arrived with upon his first visit.  

She had surprised him – despite the vast network that she seemed to work with, in both Hunter and non-Hunter circles, there had been very little that the Troupe could dig up on the owner of the little shop. She had innumerable connections; and yet, there seemed to be a great deal of loyalty and trust in those connections. He entered the shop the first to get information on the woman and to get a better feel of the physical layout – she had recently come into possession of a rare artifact that Chrollo wanted. Normally, he would have simply sent some of the others to get a read on the place and the target, but the lack of information had intrigued him. Enough that he desired to see the mysterious “Data Broker” (as she was sometimes called), for himself. He hadn’t expected to be met with a young woman around his age, with a soft voice, curious eyes, and an incredibly well-controlled aura. He left with more information than he had entered her little shop with, but… with less than he wanted to know.

So here he was again, stepping over the threshold of the little antiques and oddities shop, and was met with the sight of her perched behind the counter, a book in one hand. She was so wrapped up in whatever she was reading she hadn’t even heard him enter. It was a leather-bound book, and as much as he would have liked to know what the text was, he couldn’t quite see what was scrawled on the cover. After about three seconds she looked up at him with a start.

She sensed me, Chrollo thought to himself in surprise – he wasn’t often surprised. She blinked in what seemed like surprise herself, before placing a bookmark between the pages and folding her hands over the closed book in her lap.

“You’ve returned.” She sounded pleased.

Chrollo quirked a brow at the woman “Was I not supposed to?”

She laughed at that – it had a nice ring to it, the sound clamoured among the shelves and display cases. “Oh no, not at all. It's just, usually, I can get a pretty good read on people and whether or not they’ll be back. You…” She lifted one hand and gestured towards him, “…You not so much.”

As her hand fell back to its place in her lap, he took a few steps forward and leaned against the counter: the foot and a half of polished wood the only thing separating them.

“You mentioned some texts the last time I was here, and I was hoping to, perhaps, see them?” He paused, eyes trailing down from her face, her neck, to her shoulders and arm, and finally down to her folded hands, “You seemed quite enthralled with that one there, though, may I ask what you’re reading?” His eyes returned to her face, to find a soft pink tint spreading across freckled cheeks.

“Oh… ah,” She cleared her throat and pushed her hair behind her right ear, a habit that he had categorized on his last visit as a nervous tick, “This,” she patted the book in her lap, “is nothing special. Certainly not as interesting as the texts we spoke about…” She hopped off the stool she was perched on and placed the book down beside her, she moved to step around the counter, intending to lead Chrollo over to the small library she had in the shop. However, in the seconds that it took for her to come around to the front of the counter, Chrollo had snapped up the novel she had been reading.

“The Princess Bride,” He read the title aloud, eyes slowly rising to meet hers – he had quirked his brow again, but this time mirth seemed to flit across his face. Her fingers twitched, fighting off the urge to snatch the book back from the customer. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fiction,” She bit out, “a story I am familiar with from my childhood. I return to it every once and a while.” She held out a hand in the space between them waiting for him to return the book to her. She didn’t mean to come across as curt, but he seemed oddly persistent about her novel and she couldn’t figure out why.

She was fighting off irritation - simply stating that it was a story from her childhood already felt as though she was sharing too much information about herself. Usually, she was so careful. But something about this man seemed to catch her off guard. He observed her reactions, taking in her facial expression which moments ago was easy to read was now a passive blank.

Interesting.

“Well,” he started, gently placing the book in her outstretched hand, “You wouldn’t happen to have another copy of that here, would you?”

She almost scoffed, thinking he was joking, but he continued observing her with his steady gaze, no sign of laughter within.

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She was confused, to say the least.

What was that? 

The handsome stranger ended up purchasing the rare texts that she had mentioned to him the last time, as well as an extra copy she had lying around of The Princess Bride. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It felt like such an odd encounter – but then again, perhaps she was overreacting.

She had rung him up and packed the books for him, and as she handed them over, she had shaken her head softly, a wry smile spreading across her features.

“I hope you enjoy these…” She trailed off realizing that despite having interacted with the man twice now, she still didn’t know his name.

“Chrollo” he offered up, taking the books from her, “And I fully intend to…” He mimicked the pause that had followed her words, looking at her expectantly.

“Serena.”

He gave her the soft smile that he had the first time he entered her shop – only this time, something about it felt much more genuine.

“Well, I fully intend to, Serena, thank you.”

He turned and made his way back to the entrance, and just as she was resuming the position she had been in when he entered, he turned around with what almost seemed like a teasing air, the smile still spread across his handsome features. He waited until she met his eyes before speaking again: “Oh, and in case you still don’t have a read on me,” his smile grew wider, “You’ll be seeing me again.”

With that, Chrollo turned on his heel and exited the shop without further sound.

Serena remained frozen in place, staring at the door Chrollo had just exited through.

She wasn’t sure why, but the promise in his parting words had almost sounded like a threat.

[star-wars-scribbles-ff]

Where I Belong | Chapter 5

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she’ll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, found family, lots of clone boys, (spans the whole clone war) eventual Order 66 and rise of the Empire

Words: 3,205

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header/chapter divider made by me 😊

Taglist: @divergent-llamas-03 @thisistheendtimes @tallyquark @your-very-rude-neighborhood-ace @remadster @808tsuika

CHAPTER NOTE: Planned on making this a May 4th chapter update but time got away, not really proof read, I remembered I’m pretty much writing this for myself, and this chapter is kind of short so... sorry me I guess lololol. 

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals Art | Arwen Corcer  - Past Lives Art

Anakin Skywalker considered her in silence. Do I look dead, sir? Was that a jab? Just a statement- a question? Her aura was giving him nothing; it was calm, collected, but under the surface bubbling with a scrambled mix of emotions that he couldn’t decipher. Not just anyone could mask that from a Jedi. It made him uneasy. 

“... What’s your CT number?” He asked, posture straightening as he crossed his arms.

The look she turned on him was almost amused as she looked him up and down for a moment, brow knit before she raised an eyebrow.

“My CT number? What- do I look like a clone to you?” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Anakin quickly found his voice turning almost impatient. It wasn’t intentional, but perhaps a defense against this situation which he wasn’t the slightest prepared for. He’d buried this. Having it drop back in on him like this wasn’t something he wanted to welcome with open arms.

He narrowed his eyes at her lack of reaction as she continued to eye him before her gaze fell to the table. Her ease and calm nature regarding her situation pushed a button he didn’t know he had, and it irritated him. The only thing that brought him solace was that despite her seemingly tranquil exterior, he could sense she was harboring a restlessness. One he was having trouble deciphering, but all the same it was there. 

Considering her posture, he noted her body language gave away very little. Somewhat defensive, but not overwhelmingly so; her arms were rested in her lap, shoulders slightly caved inward, but still relaxed. She looked like a mercenary by her attire. The chest and torso plates she was wearing had notes of old republic craftsmanship; it wasn’t a commonly worn style anymore. Her shoulder plates also had unique craftsmanship, but he didn’t recognize them. 

A few dried splatters of blood covered her left shoulder plate, where her head injury was making itself known. She’d need medical attention; something he wasn’t looking forward to as she’d need to be transferred to the medical facility onsite. He needed very little to tell him she was dangerous. She lacked a boastful ego, and that only increased the likelihood that she possessed a deadly skill set. Moving someone like that around should be avoided at all costs, but a head injury was cause for concern. Thankfully, that was something to consider later on. For now, he had to worry strictly about interrogation of the individual. 

Part of him was uncertain of how to proceed. She would be on the GAR database, it was just a matter of whether he’d be able to access the material. Surely he’d be able to. He vaguely remembered seeing her file, but he didn’t remember enough details.

“What was the nature of your assignment on Garo IV.” He questioned. Only way forward was to strike the connections they had present. While the mission wasn’t related, it was the only string he could pull. Waiting for an answer was how he had spent eighty percent of his time during interrogations. Maybe pulling this string would get her talking a bit more.

When she met his eyes, he raised an eyebrow as she put off giving him a verbal response. He really didn’t have the patience for interrogations. Obi-Wan knew that and would usually have him conduct them because of said fact. 

“What unit were you with?” He tried, adjusting his crossed arms over his chest as he stood at the opposite side of the table from where she was seated. 

“I’m not at liberty to disclose details regarding my assignments nor my former position with the Republic Military.” The monotone of her voice surprised him as she leaned back in the chair and met his gaze once more. “Sir.” The tone of her voice was laced with sarcasm, unamused sarcasm but it was becoming more obvious she was going to make this harder for him.

He found himself giving the smallest hint of a smirk. Two could play the game.

“Well then, make yourself comfortable. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” He noted before stepping forward to lean one hand on the table, the other coming to rest on his belt. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about before you’re inevitably arrested for treason against the Republic.”

Rex had watched the footage multiple times now, and it pulled him in opposite directions. This should be an easy case, but every time he came to that conclusion, something knocked him upside the head screaming that it wasn’t. Cody seemed to be in a similar position.

He glanced at his brother, noting the gears seemingly turning in his expression as he lowered his gaze from the footage they were reviewing.

“What're you thinking?”

Any other Commander, and Rex would’ve addressed them properly; but this was Cody. He’d known Cody all his life. He was more than just a superior officer, he was a brother - his brother - and they rarely ever used formal addresses around each other. He knew Cody felt the same way towards him. 

“This won’t be cut and dry.” His expression stoic, the Marshal Commander finally let his eyes fall from the footage before he turned and took  a few steps to the adjacent table where the sack of explosives resided. 

“Facial recognition picked up the other one.” Rex informed his brother before letting out a quiet sigh as he turned his gaze towards the hall leading to the interrogation room. “Your average mid ranking merc in the underworld. This one on the other hand...” Rex gestured to the holoscreen on the computer station against the wall. The footage played over and over again; the image of the mercenary they had in custody knocking Cody out of the line of fire did little to lesson Rex’s caution. “Still no hits. I don’t like it.”

“Do you think it was an act?” Cody questioned, turning to meet the eyes of his comrade.

“What part exactly?” Rex leaned back against the table, partially seated on the edge. 

The shift in the Commander’s eyeline back towards the footage answered Rex’s question as he looked to the holoscreen as well. The footage looped over and over, and Rex took a few moments to analyze the moment when the merc pushed his brother out of the line of fire.

“W- Do you think it was sincere?” Rex tried to suppress his chuckle but it slipped out. It wasn’t something he had considered. He’d honestly been avoiding thinking about her motive to push Cody out of the way. It seemed that’s all Cody was thinking about however. 

“She said ‘sorry sir’... to me.” Cody responded.

“Sir?” Rex emphasized while raising an eyebrow. “Alright I admit that’s- odd. But what’s your point, Cody. She still infiltrated this base with a sack full of explosives. I think the intent is clear.”

“Gentlemen,” The announcement of the Jedi’s presence caused Rex and Cody to briefly stand at attention.

“General Kenobi,” Cody greeted his superior with a courteous nod of his head and Rex gave a similar gesture as Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi walked through the blast doors.

“I apologize for the lateness of my arrival, Cody.” Obi-Wan dipped his head towards Cody as the Jedi came to a stop in front of the two troopers. “I did receive your transmission. Have there been any developments on our intruders?”

“Yes sir,” Cody responded, taking a couple steps closer to the holoscreen at the computer station, giving it a small gesture with his hand. “We’ve got a hit on one of them, I was going to get your confirmation on a warrant. The other however isn’t coming up on civilian or criminal databases.”

“Neither?” Kenobi questioned, taking a step closer to watch the footage quietly.

“No sir,” Cody gave Obi-Wan the response as he went to open the satchel on the far table, Rex loosely at his side. “Both had one of these. This belongs to the one we have in custody.”

“Skywalker is doing the interrogation?” Obi-Wan inquired, eyes on the footage. His brow knit gently and one brow twitched up with curiosity as he watched the footage of the criminal they had in custody.

“He is, sir.”

Silence followed closely behind Cody’s words as the two Officers waiting for the Jedi’s next move. Rex glanced briefly at his brother, hands loosely at his sides, but a subtle tension remained in his posture. This was a new problem, one they hadn’t encountered before. 

General Skywalker was being oddly distant with this mercenary in custody. Usually an Officer would accompany on interrogations, however the General had made it clear that he wanted to handle this one alone following some sort of revelation. Whatever it was, Rex knew it complicated matters to some extent.

“If you’ll excuse me, Commander, Captain,” General Kenobi turned to the Clone Officers. “I will have a word with Skywalker.”

“Let us know if you need anything, sir.” Cody was quick to respond and Rex backed up his brother’s words with a nod. 

Once the General excused himself, Rex took a couple of steps closer to the Commander and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why wouldn’t she come up on any database?” Rex mumbled the question privately to Cody. “It doesn’t make sense. Not even facial recognition picked anything up prior to the last few months. She’s a ghost.” Rex shook his head in subtle disbelief, brow knit tightly. 

His arms already crossed, Cody reached up with a hand to lightly touch his chin as he thought quietly. 

“I was hired to hit this location. I don’t know who, I didn’t get a name, but I suspect it came from a long chain of people most likely working for the Separatists.” The mercenary explained. 

“Do you mercenaries normally just take jobs and ask questions later?” Anakin inquired, causing the girl’s eyes to narrow. 

“It was a closed door job; information was kept private until they pulled people in for the job. If I hadn’t taken it they would’ve shot me then and there.” She muttered the explanation, defensive frustration subtly laced through her voice. 

“Considering the way to shoved that Officer out of harm's way - I take it you prefer to hurt from a distance. Not too soft to do the dirty work up close are you?” He pushed further, much to his contempt as she visibly clenched her jaw and hardened her glaring gaze at him. 

“Anakin, might I remind you of the reliability of using more friendly tactics during interrogation?” 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin carefully greets his old Master as the Jedi enters the cell. 

“Might I have a moment with you outside,” Kenobi gestured briefly towards the cell door. 

Anakin grumbled before reluctantly leaving alongside the Jedi Master. This was not a good look for an interrogator. 

Once on the other side of the cell’s energy shield door, Obi-Wan and Anakin made their way down a few cells to get some space from everyone. 

“Now, what is this all about?” Obi-Wan inquired, crossing his arms across his chest. “I left the base for one day and-”

“This isn’t just some mercenary, Master.” Anakin cut to the chase rather quickly but begrudgingly hesitated for a moment. “I can’t believe I am saying this- but she was one of us.”

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan’s brow was knit tightly, a clear expression of confusion marked his face before Anakin went to explain.

“This happened a few months ago; shortly after I became a knight. The battle group I was with near Sundari. Master Krell was dealing with forces on the planet surface when I picked up a distress signal from a Clone Team on Garo IV. They asked for extraction; said they had vital information. I’m not sure exactly what kind but…” Anakin trailed off as he remembered the day. 

Kenobi eyed his former padawan for a time before giving a small nod of reluctant understanding.

“And where does this mercenary come into play?” He inquired, gesturing forward with a hand.

Anakin met his Master’s eyes for a time before looking away once more. 

“She was the one that sent the distress signal, Master.”

Once the Jedi left the cell, Arwen let herself slump back into her chair. Jaw relaxing she muttered under her breath before briefly closing her eyes, squeezing them shut for good measure to briefly combat the pain of her head injury. 

This isn’t good. I have to get out of here before this spirals. 

If she tried to escape, it would make things worse long term. The situation couldn’t get much worse from here, at least not in regards to her relationship with the Republic. The worst thing that could happen to her is imprisonment. Right now her reputation was what she was most concerned with. 

Corcer relaxed her brow, trying to soften the pressure that had been building in her head before she took in an audible breath and slowly let it out. 

Of all the Jedi that could be dealing with this… It just had to be the one that one. 

He could either make matters better or worse. She’d have to suck it up regardless.

At the mere thought of it, Arwen clenched her jaw, unable to hide the snarl of an expression that threatened to appear. 

Jedi. There were few she thought below them. A twisted organization. Sure they had a few good ones here and there, but they were the biggest problem with the Republic. She’d rather shoot herself now and get it over with than roll over and play dead in this interrogation but… She had somewhere to be and had things to do. 

As long as this di’kut doesn’t try to mention the team, I’ll be fine. 

Silencing her thoughts, Arwen looked to the cell door and waited for someone to reappear. Her intent gaze only increased as she tried to silence the thoughts at the back of her mind. Seconds turn to minutes before she finally feels her shoulders begin to relax and her eyes fall.

…. The team…. My team.

Her chest tightened as she caught herself subconsciously distancing herself from the painful memories of her old life. 

You can’t do that. No matter how much it hurts. If you don’t remember them, no one will.  

Obi-Wan processed this information quietly for a time before finally meeting the eyes of his former padawan. 

“And you’re certain this is her?”

“I’m positive, Master. She already confirmed it to me; reluctantly I might add.” Anakin responded.

The two make their way back down the hall and pass the mercenary’s interrogation cell before turning down the hall towards where Commander Cody and Captain Rex resided.

“We can continue her interrogation later. For the time being, we need to continue our prevailing investigation.” 

Anakin fought the urge to roll his eyes but let out a grumbled huff before rubbing the back of his head as they entered the open room. 

“Master-”

“You and I both know that intel may be critical, Anakin.” Obi-Wan reminded the younger Jedi with a somewhat stern tone. “If the Separatists get ahold of it-”

“We’ll have problems. I know, I know.” Anakin put his hands up before letting them fall. “Pirate scum.” Skywalker muttered under his breath, shooting a brief look around the room towards where Cody and Rex resided cataloging another sack of items from the mercenary. “They’re all talk, this info could just be putting us on a wild bantha chase.”

“And if it’s sincere?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and waited for his former padawan to concede in his weak reluctance to pay the investigation the attention it needed. 

Anakin didn’t hide the roll of his eyes before giving a nod. “Understood, Master.”

The Jedi didn’t come back. Something Arwen wasn’t necessarily against. However as she was escorted down the hall by a Clone squad, she found herself almost disappointed she wasn’t able to speak with the Jedi. 

It was becoming clear to her that she needed to talk with them to make any progress, but her anger- maybe even mild hatred towards them- kicked at her to not wish to be stuck in such a situation.

“Destination?” Arwen chanced speaking up, and was surprised when she got a response.

“Jail cell for temporary holding until interrogation continues.” The Clone a few paces in front of her on her right responded, not sparing her a glance as he continued to walk down the corridor. 

Arwen looked to the ground and nodded to the side.

Better than silence I suppose. That means they still plan on talking to me. Good.

The quiet sound of conversation perked her ears and as they continued walking, it grew louder, and the voices grew clearer. 

One of them was the Jedi she’d spoken to - Anakin as the other Jedi had called him. And the other one was Obi-Wan. The names were familiar unfortunately, and now she had faces to put to the names. Practically celebrities as far as the Republic was concerned. Forget the Holovid stars, Jedi Knights were it since the war had started. 

Arwen’s gaze found an open room coming up on the left and she looked inside to find the two Jedi on opposite ends of a holotable looking hologram of an individual she actually recognized.

The fact made her stop, much to the surprise of the two clones behind her as one of them ran right into her with a grunt of surprise. 

“Sir,” She called out to the Jedi, either one of them. 

They both looked over, each with a look of mild confusion before Arwen went to continue talking.

“Is that Jiro Tuck?” She inquired, her eyes briefly dwelled on the hologram before turning to the bearded Jedi.

“You know of this individual?” He was the one she hadn’t seen much of, Obi-Wan as the dark haired Jedi, Anakin, had called him.

“Yes sir,” Arwen responded, glancing to the clone escort which she could tell was getting agitated. “If you’re looking for either him or his brother- I might have a few leads. I’ve been hired to find him before.”

The butt of a blaster was suddenly knocked into her back and Arwen caught her footing gracefully before looking over her shoulder at the helmeted trooper.

“Keep moving,” He snapped before ushering her forward with his rifle.

Arwen looked towards the Jedi once more before complying with the Clone escort, continuing down the hall. 

They took her down to the holding cells and placed her in an empty cell. From the look it was vacant; she was the only one there.

Once the cell door closed, the troopers walked away and Arwen found herself sitting down on the metal platform that acted as a cot. 

Ok. Seed planted. You better be able to deliver on that.

She had done work with the pirate before. Whatever he was involved in though would probably only bring her more heat from either the Separatists or the Republic, neither of which she wanted.

Either way… She needed to find a way out. This looked like her only option. If she played her cards right, she might be able to get out of this. 

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals Art | Arwen Corcer  - Past Lives Art

Chapter Note: If anyone is reading this I hope you enjoy I suppose. Again- wasn’t proof read so.... sorry for the grammar errors. Might fix it... Might not. Probably won’t. 

[4kyl0]

ache.

part ii.

pairing: ben solo x reader

summary: it had been one long grueling year since you last saw ben solo. during that period, you joined the resistance. ben on the other hand, was still the fearless supreme leader of the first order, kylo ren. now, an odd calling lead him back to varykino; revealing secrets and memories that were “meant” to stay hidden. (takes place in the midst of tros)

rating: sfw. more angst than fluff this time.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i’m finishing up school at the moment :)

“Supreme Leader, you cant just leave—”

“Enough.”

"A war is happening—"

"And your men will finish it." Kylo practically snarled, turning to the uptight general behind him.

Hux grew quiet, glaring daggers at him."Might I ask where you're going, Supreme Leader?" he spat, his lip quivering in anger.

"I'm not obligated to tell you about my whereabouts," Kylo was quick to retort. He felt as if his stomach were in knots.

Varykino had been calling him. He dreamt about it night after night, its memory prodding at the back of his mind everyday. He was unsure what it meant, but he would not rest until he understood. His stomach lurched if he even thought about acting on it. He wondered aimlessly if you were still there. Still alive and well. But he shielded those thoughts away, diminishing all feelings with it.

"I'll be gone for a week or less. nothing more. I expect full reports on everything when I return, General Hux," his modulated voice broke the uneasy silence between the two. Before Hux could respond, Kylo stormed off, his boots echoing throughout Starkiller Base.

***

You had left. Which was even more nerve wracking. The lake retreat was caked with dust, a few cracks in the foundation here and there. Only a year had passed, yet it was falling apart.

Kylo stopped in front of the villa. The pull was stronger than it was ever before. He didn't know why, but he took his leather gloves off, starting to walk towards the entrance now. Taking one of his calloused hands, he dragged it softly against one of the smooth, but cracked, walls. A sudden urge made him come to a halt once more.

Turning his gaze to the wall, the cracks glowed a vibrant light blue. His breath caught in his throat. A force essence, he thought. He had encountered a few before, when he was a padawan. But he never sought them out. What surprised him was that he had never seen one so luminous like now. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he placed his hands on the crack, feeling him slip out of reality.

"I saw my mother," a young man spoke, his appearance showing that he was a Jedi padawan. "She is suffering badly," he added, turning to a woman behind him. she was young, like him. She had curly brown hair passing shoulder length. It looked like she was wearing a night gown and robe.

"I saw her as clearly as I see you now," he breathed, continuing to hold gaze with the woman. Lingering far too long, he turned his back to her again, walking a few steps forward. A sigh escaped him, "She is in pain." He turned to the woman once more, "I know I'm disobeying my mandate to protect you senator, but I have to go," the young padawan fretted, now taking a few steps towards the woman. "I have to help her." he whimpered, trembling a little.

She locked eyes with him, the emotion that had plastered itself on her face was unreadable. She hadn't spoke a word.

"I'll go with you," she assured; her voice smooth and calm.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a choice—"

Gasping, Kylo pushed off the wall harshly. His mind was spiraling. Who are they? He wondered, the two felt oddly familiar. He didn't know how exactly, neither his mother or father ever mention such people. He huffed, clenching is fists into tight balls. Eventually calming down, he continued to explore the what was once a grand lake house.

After what felt like days of searching out for anything, Kylo made it to the balcony; the last place he ever saw you. The memory felt fresh, as if it happened yesterday. Thinking of you made his shoulders sag, a huff passing through his lips. Even if you were upset, you were still beautiful. No, he thought, you hurt her. Sighing, the cloaked knight walked to the edge of the balcony, looking out on the view. It felt more dull; as if the scenery had lost an ounce of the bright colors it once had.

A flash of blue caught his eye. Turning his head, he saw a deep crack along the stone rail, the glow erupting from it more vibrant than ever. Like before, he took a deep breath, and let it go slowly. Lifting his hand, he placed it on top of the fracture, closing his eyes.

"I don't like sand." it was the padawan again, the woman from before beside him as well. "It's course and ruff and irritating—" he proceeded to fidget with stray pebbles along the rail "—and it gets everywhere." Dropping the pebbles, the young padawan looked out, "not like here, here everything is soft," his gaze averted to the senator. He bit his lip, hesitant, "and smooth." his hand rubbed against her own, and  moved up her back. The young woman turned to look at him. They stared at each other quietly, the padawan even smiling a little.

Ever so slowly, he inched closer to her, their eyes still locked on each other. Closing the distance, they kissed. It was passionate, as if the two had longed for one another. As quickly as it happened, the senator pulled away, "no." she gasped, "I shouldn't have done that," she avoided his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he broke the short lived awkward silence. He lifted his head up, his eyes searching to look at anything but her. They both looked pained.

Yanking his hand from the stone rail, Kylo shuddered. The scene replayed in his head over and over again, making him groan aloud. I shouldn't have come here, his mind was buzzing, it was a mistake. Collecting himself, the cloaked knight let out a frustrated groan. It wasn't clear to what the Force was trying to tell him, but he didn't want to know either. For all he knew, it seemed like a distraught couple's spirits wallowing in the vacant structure. Yet, he felt strangely connected to them.

Turning around, Kylo took one step before going still. A signature in the Force practically knocked him off of his feet. It felt familiar; but it was strong, and not budging. Sucking air in through his nose and out, he clutched at his lightsaber, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

"You're quite loud," his modulated voice taunted, "projecting yourself? You lack of stealth and common sense." He closed his eyes, focusing on his surroundings through the Force.

As a twig snapped beside him, Kylo was quick to unsheathe his saber, pointing it intimidatingly at the shaded figure. He smirked, "come out into the light."

Complying, the figure walked out of the shadows, revealing you pointing a blaster at his chest.

His breath hitched, and his shoulders became more tense by the second. You changed; drastically so. You no longer wore fine dresses and headbands, in place of them was a leather jacket and combat boots. Your eyes failed to hold the brightness it once obtained; they were dull, and glassy.

"What are you doing here?" you barked, your tone low and harsh.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kylo retorted, his voice holding no emotion.

The both of you stood in silence, observing each other. It had only been a year, yet it felt like a thousand. Seeing you only brought back the feeling of being touch starved, and how much he craved intimacy with you. But things were different now, he knew he shouldn't feel this way.

"I see you haven't changed," your voice broke through the quiet. He didn't respond. "Still wearing that ridiculous helmet, too. I must say, you added flare to it with the little red streaks."

Oh, you were teasing him now. Anger bubbled up in his stomach, but he refused to lash out. He didn't want to scare you, but that angered him even more. He should feel the need to lash out at you, make you realize how miserable you made him felt.

Kylo huffed, "And I see that you've changed." Lowering his gaze, he practically growled. The Resistance symbol had been embroidered on the sleeve of your jacket, "a Resistance fighter."

You paused; your facial expression morphing into sadness. Your gaze flickered to him and the lake. You were nervous.

"Ben—" you hesitated, but continued, "she misses you," you mumbled. "I miss you," you managed to make eye contact with him as you spoke those words, even through his helmet.

Kylo hadn't noticed he stopped breathing. Ben, he thought; as if he had almost forgotten it. Ever since he had fought with you, the mere mention of his actual name made him nauseous. How much hurt was prominent in your voice when you cried it. How you were drowning in your own tears that day. He shivered.

"Her son—" he faltered as you did before,"—is dead." He felt like he was reciting a poem. "He was weak and foolish," his deep voice bellowed throughout the retreat, "so I killed him."

Your bottom lip quivered as your eyes glossed over. Returning your blaster to your holster, you slowly walked over to Kylo, now having to crane your neck to look up at him. His eyes darted to where his lightsaber should be, but it was on the floor, the intimidating red spark that once flared now dead.

"No," you shook your head, your hands reaching for the sides of his helmet. He didn't stop you, "he's not dead." With a hiss, you pulled the clunky piece of metal off of his head, tossing it to the far end of the balcony. As Ben's dark curls fell to frame his face, his gaze never left yours.

You held back a gasp. He was still unbelievably beautiful, even more so. "If anything, Ben Solo is alive, and he wants to be free," you proclaimed in a hushed tone, holding his face in your small hands.

Ben started to breathe harder and harder, the proximity of how close your faces were to each other caused you to feel the little puffs of air exit through his nose as he did so. He missed this. How you held his face, how you kissed him, how you embraced him. He could feel his face grow hot.

“Come with me,” you breathed, your eyes now half-lidded. “Please,” your voice dripped with longing.

“I—” the sound of an X-Wing flying by cut Ben off. Snapping his head up to the sky, he saw the orange paint streaked across the craft. His heart dropped to his stomach. “You called them here,” he snarled, his gaze returning to yours. All color had drained from your face.

“Ben—”

Holding his hand out to where his helmet was thrown, it instantly flew back in his palm. Yanking it over his head, he snatched his lightsaber from the ground. “If you follow me, I won’t hesitate to split you in half,” he fumed, now stomping away from the balcony.

There you stood. Shocked and hurt. Alone. Your bottom lip quivered, but you refused to recognize it.

Resistance fighters came piling in the broken structure, scouting the premises for Kylo Ren.

“Where did he go? Did you see him? Are you okay?” one asked, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You paused, in thought, “No,” you answered, all emotion vacant from your voice. “No, I didn’t see him.”

tag list:

@crazynocturnalkiki @star-marvel-fangirl @kiaoizz @reddieisrealbitches @jiminie-slytherin @moonprincess003 @heda-mikaelson

[ajokeformur-ray]

Close to you // J x Lilith // nighttime comforts.

Summary: Plagued are you by nightmares and sleep paralysis. J, in all his wisdom, doesn’t realise that you’re not asking for him to lay with you while you sleep for the sake of it. No, you need him this night. Your needs, such as they are, only serve to bring the two of you closer. J has an epiphany of his own and you are faced with the startling realisation that there can be silver linings in every cloud; even the most terrifying. @jokershyena​

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, mentions of sleep paralysis, J is a grumpy raccoon, slightly tense conversation which is easily settled.

Female pronouns, body parts and ‘Lilith’ is used as the name but I guess you can swap things out as needed x

Word count: 2, 516.

You and J had something of a strange... arrangement.

You weren't friends.

You weren't dating.

You instead rested in the space between friendship and something more.

J crashed at your place so often that he practically lived with you. He had first started to drop by when he needed to lay low for a while or when he had been injured taunting Batman once again. His favourite way to enter your apartment was through the window, even though it would be so much easier for him to use the door.

The amount of times he came to your home clutching an arm or limping, his purple trench soiled with blood, scared and worried you beyond measure and each time did you patch up his wounds through gritted teeth and teary eyes. J would always roll his eyes at you, his huffs of irritation making you almost tempted to leave him to deal with his own injuries. You never did, though, for your fear always ended up overriding any anger which you felt towards him and you would inevitably give in to your innate need to take care of him. His recklessness would be the death of you one day, of this you were sure.

Another thing of which you were sure was that this night did you feel unsafe. Wary. Frightened of what lay within your mind and within your bedroom. All ready for bed were you but still did you feel hesitant to go to bed. Something just felt off and you knew that you wouldn't be sleeping at all this night. Unless... unless you could get J to lay with you. It was a long shot, but you had to try. If anyone made you feel safe, it was J. No other could do for what he did. It was clear to you that the both of you had noticed that there was something between the two of you, though it remained safe in the easy silence which often occurred between the two of you.

You lingered in the doorway of the living room, your hands wringing the hem of J's purple shirt. You loved to sleep in it every night. It surrounded you with his scent and it reminded you of his presence in your life. It was oddly sentimental but you needed this small gesture. You needed to know that J was with you each and every day, in even the smallest of ways.

Currently was J sat on the sofa, sharpening his knives. There was a small mountain of knives, grenades, and other metal pieces which you couldn't identify. He was sat in his green waistcoat and another of those purple shirts. Once J had found out that you felt safer wearing his shirts to go to bed, he had bought several of the same. One day he would wear one and that night would you wear it; and the cycle continued. You fell asleep to the smell of gasoline, gunpowder and something distinctly J every night and nothing grounded you faster; except perhaps his touch.

“Spit it out, doll.” J's gruff voice made you jump and you smiled despite yourself, feeling something sickly low in your throat.

“Can you – J, do you think you could - “ At your inability to form a coherent sentence did J put down his knife and the stone with which he was sharpening it. His intense chocolate gaze penetrated your hesitation and gave you the strength and the courage which you needed to say, “Do you think you could sleep with me tonight? I'm really scared.”

“Sleep with you?” J adopted a high pitched tone with which to mock you and broke out into laughter which sent chills down your spine. “Are you kidding?!” His incredulous tone made tears spring to your eyes as humiliation flowed through you. “You're almost twenty, you don't need me to sit with you. What are ya', a child?!”

Oh, now you were really crying, your tears hot and heavy as they poured down your face. You brought your hands up to cover your face, fingers pressing lightly on your eyes as if you could stop the tears from falling. You didn't know what you were going to do now. You needed J to keep you safe, to stay by you. Nothing and no one could harm you if he was beside you.

There was the soft clinking of metal on wood and the rustling of material. The dull thudding of booted footsteps on the plush carpet came closer to you, and a hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged.

“Look at me. Lilith.” You sniffled but allowed J to tug your hands away from your face, glaring at him as best as you could through your copious tears. “Why the tears, hm?”

You blinked fiercely to clear the tears from your eyes and let your growing anger show through. “You don't have to be a dick about it, J! I let you come and go, I let you stay here, I clean your wounds and I take care of you. So don't make fun of me when I ask for you something as simple as sleeping beside me.” Your words came tumbling past your trembling lips, your voice soft but your tone strong. You could get really angry really quickly, and right now was no exception. You were especially vulnerable right now and for J, your closest connection to any other person, to make fun of you? Oooh, it made your blood boil.

“What – are you afraid of, doll? I've seen ya' go head to head with some of my men, so what's so scary about tonight?” J's voice was rough, as it always was, and despite the clear lack of understanding, the lack of empathy, and the obvious mocking tone, you could still see that there was... something in his eyes, some kind of question, some need to get to know this part of you. “C'mon, let me show ya',” With his grip still on your wrist did J walk with you to the bedroom. You felt like you were being babied, and your anger was only mounting. “There's nothin' here.”

“Yeah, nothing you can see.” You yanked your hand out of J's slightly harsh grip, and swiped your hand impatiently over your face. “Just go, J. Whatever. I'll be fine.” You wouldn't be. You wouldn't, but what could you do? You started to ignore him and you just did what you usually did when you were getting ready for bed.

Your tears kept falling and you let out a soft noise of frustration. No one ever understood just how much you had to go through each and every night... Terrible nightmares, sleep paralysis... you were always so tired and you survived on naps and chunks of sleep which never really sustained you for more than a few hours.

J stood in the doorway watching you, before he grunted and turned around. He left you, he left, and you felt a noise crawl its way up your throat. It ripped its way out and you sobbed properly, feeling more alone in your torment than you ever had. Did J even care about you the way that you cared about him? You slammed your bedroom door shut as hard as you physically could and stormed across the room before you climbed into bed, your mind heavy with fog and the pain of rejection, the haze of anger which descended over you like a red cloak, and you pulled the duvet up to your chin, doing your best to get as comfortable as you could even with what you knew was waiting for you. What was waiting for you every night.

You sobbed into your pillow, your anger giving way to your sorrow and the way you had been so coldly treated in a moment of real vulnerability. How dare he treat you like that? Never mind how much you did for him, the extent to which you had turned your entire life upside down just to make room for him in your life. You were so upset, so angry, that when the door creaked open, you let out a startled noise and pulled the duvet up and over your head. Had you fallen asleep and not even noticed? Were you dreaming?

Quick footsteps and the duvet was pulled away from you. “Easy, easy,” The familiar scent of J filled you and you gasped shakily. Hands on your face, rough thumbs wiping your tears away. “It's just me, Lilith.” He sighed heavily and left you again, but this time he went around to the other side of the bed. He was now wearing one of the pairs of pyjamas which you had bought for him when he had first started to crash at your place. J climbed in beside you with another sigh.

“You can go if you're that annoyed, J.” You snapped, hurt preventing you from showing your relief.

“No, no,”  J sighed again, but he slung an arm around your waist. You smiled despite yourself and brought a slow hand up to interlock your fingers with his. J squeezed your fingers and you returned the gesture, and you understood. J had seen you just enough to understand that this wasn't a childish notion, that this was real fear and that you needed him, and though he wouldn't pry, he wouldn't ask, he would be with you now. It was as much of an apology as you were going to get, and you both knew it. “Get – ah, get comfy. I got'cha.”

You settled into J, hesitantly resting your head on his chest, your eyes shut tight against the horrors which you knew dwelled within the room. Just as that thought occurred to you, a floorboard creaked and you jumped in J's arms, making him chuckle. It was a strained noise, and you realised that your reality was starting to register within his mind.

“Shshsh,” J shushed you quickly, quietly, and the arm around your waist tightened. “The apartment's old, sweetheart. Temp-er-ature changes and all that.”

Even with his reassuring words did you roll to really cling to J, and he cooed. It was a noise stained with mocking, his other words quaking with suppressed laughter. You were beginning to shake and J tightened his arms around you even more. Clearly, his amusement wasn't the only thing he was feeling; he was trying to comfort you as best as he could.

“I got'cha, Lilith. Nothin's gettin' to ya'. Won't let it.” J was beginning to mumble now, his body melting into the mattress which cushioned your bodies, and you realised that he was just as sleepy as you were. It made you smile into the darkness to know that he was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you.

“Thank you, J.”

“Mm-hm. Do ya', ah, wanna' tell me about it?”

Did you? You thought about it, but you ultimately decided to do so. “I suffer from nightmares. Sleep paralysis... Night-time is really scary for me, J, and you're the only one I know will keep me safe from me.”

“Ohhhhh~,” J showed his understanding in a breathy exhale. “It all makes, ah, sense now.”

The warmth of his body, the heavy but comforting weight of his arms around you, of his scent, his breath in your hair and the rise and fall of his chest... His heartbeat... You inhaled deeply, held it and exhaled slowly.

“Shshsh,” J continued to shush you lowly, soothingly, and you snuggled in as close as you could. You were practically on top of him now, so desperate were you for all that he was prepared to give you. “Don't gotta' worry. Would it help if I, ah, if I stayed with ya' every night?”

You gasped despite yourself, grinning into the darkness. You hardly dared to believe what you were hearing. “J, you don't have to - “

“Would. It. Help? Doll.” Biting irritation. Soothing, gentle touches. It was a complete contradiction but it was so J that you felt yourself unable to be hurt by how he was spoken to you.

“Yes. A lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

J chuckled. “Well – ah, all right then.”

It was a promise.

Silence lapsed and you closed your eyes, getting comfortable and ready to fall asleep surrounded by all that J was, all that he was giving you.

Just on the precipice of sleep were you when J shook you lightly in his hold, making you groan sleepily.

“What?” You whined and a hand swept through your hair, grounding you.

“Lilith, I... you and me, we - “  J groaned and his arms loosened so much around you that you were  both able to move. You stayed where you were, though, curious. J shifted so that he could press a hot, muscular leg to your own, his foot pushing lightly against your shin. He wanted in, and you parted your legs just enough for J to slot his leg between your own. He sighed then, sleepily, and wrapped his arms back around you, nuzzling his face into the warm crook of your neck. “Wanna keep it. You.”

You stiffened, so many emotions rising within you that you didn't know where to even begin with it all, your mind heavy and foggy with sleepiness, your body alight with euphoria. “J, wha - “

“No, shush, listen,” J pressed a chaste kiss to your neck and you tipped your body into his, encouraging him. This was beyond your hopes for tonight. You had asked him to stay and it seemed that, in his own thoughts, J had decided to make that to be a more permanent arrangement. “I want ya', Lilith. Want this.” He squeezed you pointedly. “Yes or no.”

It wasn't romantic, but it didn't need to be. You both just knew that, though this wouldn't be conventional, or easy, or even accepted socially, so feared and revered was he by all in Gotham, it still just was. No one had ever bothered to even get close to him, for who he was, but you had. You had initially been scared, but you knew that if he was going to hurt you then he would have already, and so you felt no qualms in allowing J to approach you sometimes when you were walking through the grimy streets late in the evening, or even in broad daylight.

You sniffled, hot tears brewing in your tear ducts again, and before J could ask what was wrong, you moved just enough to tip your head back so that you could press a kiss to J's still painted face, your lips lingering against his skin. “Yes. Please.”

A sleepy grunt was all the answer you received in light of your new arrangement, but it was enough. You had J, and he had you, and with your meeting had come the birth of serendipity.

Destructive raccoon boii(tm) @nothing-but-a-comedy @jokershyena   @anyatheladyclown   @mijachula   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable        @ledgerskitten    @tsukiakarinobara    @germansarechill      @ezziesworld

[aurorafreerose]

Don’t Be Late- Ch 3

Summary: Bakugo and Uraraka spar, but not before it gets... complicated.

Notes: Inspired by part by this fan animation by DailyKrumbs~~ 

Writer’s note: Also wrote this while listening to Novacane and Nights by Frank Ocean! Hehe but things are heating up between these two!!!

Word count: 1709

Read on ao3!

Ochaco hadn't given it too much thought. However, imagining Bakugo Katsuki- the most aggressive person she'd ever met- pinning her down and yelling 'SHINEEE!' for the next hour made her squirm. 

Was this really a good idea, to have asked Bakugo of all people to spar-

Her inner monologue was suddenly interrupted by the sound of Bakugo opening the door to the training rooms for her.

They'd entered and unpacked their things, and shot looks at one another from opposing sides of the room.  Ochaco's brow had furrowed in concentration, eyeing Bakugo with a stare of unyielding determination.  Bakugo, on the other hand, was glaring at Ochaco with the same fury, that same pent-up drive that always hid behind his red pupils. Both of them were searching for openings, and yet the space in the room seemed to be shrinking the longer they met each other's gaze. 

They hadn't said a word to each other, but yet, there was a growing tension between them, something becoming more apparent with each second. It was different from the sports festival; there was nothing really at stake for either of them, but there was still a competitive aspect to it. Ochaco felt that same intense desire she knew Bakugo had, that passionate need, to prove her worth as a hero.  

She realized she'd forgotten to ask something in her haste.

 "Bakugo-kun..."

"What is it?" he said gruffly, looking disconcerted. 

"Will we be using our quirks?" 

"What, are you stupid or something? Obviously, Angel Face," he answered, clearly annoyed by her lack of foresight. 

"Oh.. um, yeah..." Ochaco said sheepishly, rubbing her temple absentmindedly. 

The uneasy silence resumed occupying the space between them, building more and more with each passing second. 

Then, giving her a curt nod, Bakugo was the first to strike, and he rushed her head-on. Ochaco held her fighting stance as he approached, two sets of five fingers gently brushing each other, watching him grow ever-closer. He's fast, she thought. His fingers curled, deftly swiping a cloud of flame and smoke aimed at her face. She dodged in the nick of time, not giving him a second to connect with her jaw. He spun around in anticipation of her counter. She launched herself into a kick, aiming at his knees. He'd swiftly dodged. She went in again, this time with her right reaching at his collarbone with her fingers stretched out, but no-

He'd evaded her twice now, as if it were second nature to him. Her left grasped at the other side of his face, attempting to bridge the large space between them Bakugo had made in his last move.

Bakugo's features curled into the devilish smile she'd seen once before at the sports festival. Ochaco, in contrast, looked nothing but concentrated as she met his amused expression. It was as if a fierce desire inside of him had been momentarily satisfied. He looked to be enjoying himself, like someone had flipped a switch inside his normally-brutish personality.

In a rapid succession of movements, he'd grabbed her wrist, turned her around so she wasn't facing him, and placed her in a chokehold up against the wall. She let out a primal sort of groan. Her breathing was coming out sharp and ragged as Bakugo restrained her, feeling a mixture of humiliation, rage and... nervousness? at her all-too-easy defeat. 

"Come on, cheeks, you can't be this fucking easy...You'd get blown to fucking hell if I were a villain, that's for damn sure..." Bakugo was teasing her. It was like he was deliberately trying to rile her up. Maybe he just wanted to gloat? 

He still hadn't eased her restraints, keeping one hand on her wrist and another keeping her arm pinned behind her back. She couldn't see him, only feel his hot breath barely meet her skin as he aimed insults at her. She knew he was smiling at her, taunting her lack of skill in a way that made her want to tear him apart. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, making her impulses run rampant.

Bakugo finally let her go, allowing her to face him once more as she wiped the sweat from her face, still panting from their previous exchange. He was smirking. She still didn't know why, but she quickly regained her composure. 

She felt a thrill as they traded blows once again. Ochaco was slightly mollified to see she'd wiped that irritating grin off of Bakugo's face. They were using their fists to communicate with each other rather than their words. A jab here, a missed punch there, and they were both growing more collected, more determined, with each passing second. They were so unnervingly close, their bodies instinctually touching and feeling the longer they went on. 

He tried to put her in the same position again. His hand grasped at her wrist, but she'd gone for his leg instead, flipping him onto the floor. Unfortunately, she went down with him.He laid on the floor for a few seconds, his legs raised and his arms behind his head. She grabbed one leg, and he landed a sharp kick to her neck as a response. Ochaco saw stars in front of her eyes. She jolted herself into focus too late as Bakugo had already gotten up. She raised her hands in a defensive stance, but Bakugo had sent another explosion straight at her. 

This time, it launched her off of her feet and sent her sprawling across the floor. Ochaco scrambled to her feet, but a few seconds too late again- he'd caught up to her already, and threw her to the ground once more. Bakugo was directly on top of her, his hands clamped around her wrists, legs wrapped around either side of her waist, face just a few inches above hers. She was helpless, despite her body continuing to protest against his. She refused to give in.

"Give up," Bakugo commanded. 

Ochaco looked up in surprise. Bakugo was staring her straight in the eyes, his voice strained from their fight. She knew he wasn't in this for fun anymore. His body sagged against hers, breathing laboriously, his neck almost opposite hers, knees dipping ever-so-slightly. A soft moan slipped out of his mouth as he fought to keep her held. They were so close. Ochaco was made increasingly aware of the physical effort he put into completely overpowering her. The intimacy of fighting wasn't something she was all too familiar with, but she was growing acquainted with it.

They fought again, but his moves were getting careless, and hers more precise. She didn't know if it was because he was volunteering himself to become her personal punching bag, or if he was simply distracted. Ochaco kept gaining the upper hand, which incensed Bakugo, igniting a flame somewhere. 

They were both drenched in sweat, Bakugo's tank top adhering strictly to his abs, and it wasn't too much of a distraction for her, but she made note of it nonetheless. Watching his muscles grow taut, so tense as he fought, was not an ugly sight per se. She convinced herself he reminded her of Midoriya to get her mind off of it.  

Bakugo made a hurried lunge towards her. In a phantasmic kind of way, she blocked it and sidestepped him. Now she was the one who had him restrained, in the converse of their previous predicament. She had his arms above his head. Her knees were buckling into the wall to keep themselves around either side of his legs (he was an annoying height taller than her, after all). It didn't seem like she needed to, because he wasn't moving.

They were too close. Bakugo's lips, parted in an expression of hunger, were only an inch or two away from her own. Ochaco knew she should ease her hold on him, let go, return the feeling they had between them back to normal. But she didn't want to untangle her legs from in between his. She wanted to just stay there, their heaving, tired bodies leaning against each other, him looking at her in that tantalizing way. 

Deep inhales, heavy exhales, were all that was exchanged between them. Neither of them could stop staring, but they also couldn't bring themselves to do any more than that. It was like magic, the little bursts of feeling that jolted her heart in her chest, making it beat faster and faster and faster. 

Ochaco was sorry when Bakugo seemed to snap out of it. "Oi, get off of me, cheeks-"

His fingers landed on her chest without much thought, ostensibly to wrangle her off of him, but they ended up grabbing something else. Ochaco flushed, and Bakugo's eyes widened as he realized his opponent was definitely a woman. He removed his hands like he was touching a deadly disease, looking both offended by-and disgusted with-himself. Ochaco knew he wasn't thinking of it that way, but that didn't make it any less awkward. 

"I-it's fine! I know you didn't mean to-" she tried to communicate her lack of anger to him, but he seemed oddly flustered. He was refusing to look at her, head tilted towards the floor, eyes pointed at anything but her face.

"No, it's my fault. I- I'm sorry," he offered, voice much quieter than his usual tones. A blush crept up his cheeks. She had never heard him apologize to anyone. Ochaco hadn't seen him like this before, and doubted most other people had. 

 As they packed up, she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't stopped it when he did. 

She banished the thought as soon as it occurred to her. That didn't guarantee it wouldn’t make an appearance in her dreams.

[digimonnetwork-project]

Episode I

The seeds are sown...

“Shidou...Shidou....Isamu Shidou pay attention!” There was a dull thud as Isamu was thrown out of his thoughts by the sudden acquaintance of his head and the teacher’s book. At his old school, the boy in question would never have gotten in trouble for daydreaming in class, let alone assaulted for it.

“Gah! I’m sorry, Ms. Mazawa! It won’t happen again!” Isamu exclaimed, bolting from his chair and bowing repeatedly while he rubbed the back of his skull, certain a bump would develop where he’d been struck with the teacher’s book. He pictured something large and swelling, hopefully enough to get him out of math next period, but would go down before soccer practice after school.

“Honestly!” She huffed, twirling her graying hair in exasperation, “Shidou, this is the third time this week. You know I hate doing this, but if you can’t be bothered to pay attention to the lesson I’m going to have to keep you after school.”

Aside from the streaks of grey in her hair, Ms. Mazawa didn’t look more than a few years passed thirty, but her barbaric teaching methods made her seem centuries older. Isamu suspected she might be one of the old monsters of folklore, maybe Arikura-no-baba or Osakabe, but Isamu really didn’t care enough to try to research which one she could be.

“Yeah right you don’t like doing it, you keep kids after school all the time.” A chill ran up Isamu’s spine as Ms Mazawa’s irritated scowl deepened into a glare, making him overly aware of the fact that he had said this out loud instead of keeping it in his head.

She swatted him upside the head with her book a second time. “Shidou, I was just going to keep you in class for thirty minutes to reread today’s lesson, but your smart mouth just earned you a detention spent setting up the cafeteria for the archery club’s fundraiser tonight!” She declared.

“Y-yes ma’am!” Isamu stuttered, getting a giggle out of his classmates, “I’m sorry ma’am!”

“I hope you are.” Ms. Mazawa replied and turned to go back to the front of the class.

Isamu sighed and returned to his seat, brushing brown bangs out of his face and looking at his desk. At his old school, his classmates would have been laughing with him, not at him, he thought reminiscing, again, about his former life. The bangs he just moved fell right back into his eyes. He really needed to find something to keep his hair in place.

“Psst! Isamu!” He turned around at the sound of his name and saw his classmate Masato Namura give him a thumbs up. Beside him, Aki Mikami pushed up his glasses and awkwardly waved at him.

Isamu gave a small nod of acknowledgment to the both of them before facing the front of the class. The two of them were nowhere near the top of the food chain in this school’s social hierarchy, but they were the only friends he had here. He turned his head back out the window, catching his phantom reflection in the glass. How was it that he only had two friends? At his old school he was the cool popular kid that was friends with everyone, how did he become so bad at connecting to people?

In the glass, Isamu noticed more than just his own blue-eyed reflection. Just outside the door way he could make out the faint image of someone standing just outside their classroom. He looked that way just to be sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. Yes, there was a girl standing there, waiting to be invited in.

“Now that that’s out of the way, class...” Ms. Mazawa said, turning to the door, “We have a new student transferring today. Please give her a warm welcome. You can come in now, dear.”

The girl stepped in front of the class with her head held high. The students all have short gasps of amazement at the fact that she dared come in without her uniform on. The transfer student was wearing casual clothes, ankle length beige pants with green trimming that matched her Chinese style shirt  and held her bag in front of her like a purse, rather than a backpack. Oddly, the thing that stood out about her wasn’t her lack of uniform, but the fact that she was wearing a white fingerless glove on her left hand with what appeared to be a strange digital watch over it.

“Hello.” She said to them, pulling a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “My name is Ju Ling, my family and I just moved here from Bejing. I don’t have my school uniform yet because of a mix up that gave me the wrong size.” She looked over at Ms. Mazawa who waved her hands for her to continue, “I'm an only child who likes computers, though I’m not necessarily very good with them. Thank you for having me, I look forward to joining your class.”

With a bow, she concluded her introduction and looked at Ms. Mazawa again who directed her to take the open seat next to Isamu. They whispered something to each other and Ju giggled as she came forward, Ms, Mazawa had probably instructed her to make sure he didn’t start daydreaming again. Isamu sighed and began scratching notes on the lecture.

This was going to be a long day...

When the last bell of the day rang, Isamu almost forgot about his detention and started out the door with Aki and Masato when Ms. Mazawa reminded him of his unwanted duties. Basically he was setting up chairs and tables for an hour and half, rather than the half hour lesson he would have gotten if he hadn’t mouthed off,  but still that was an hour and a half Isamu wasn’t spending at the park practicing with Aki and Masato.

Another defeated sigh escaped him, tryouts for the Soccer team were a few weeks away, Masato was the right midfielder and Isamu had been the striker for the team at his old school, but Aki had never played an official game. Isamu felt terrible that he had to miss out on training Aki, the blond haired boy wasn’t awful by any means but he needed as much support as possible.

The archery club supervisor met him outside the door where he saw another of his classmates, Kaiyo Nakano, lined up as a volunteer. Isamu knew she was a volunteer, number one because he knew she hadn’t gotten in trouble, secondly because Kaiyo seemed to volunteer to help out with every club, though she was only an active member of the chess club.

“Hey, Shidou, I’ve already signed us both in” Kaiyo greeted, taking the opportunity to partner up with him, “It’s easier for me to work when I’m not in a skirt, so I’m going to change out of my uniform before we start. You go ahead and change too, that way you can just leave right after we’re done.”

“Oh? Okay, thanks.” Isamu replied, he hadn’t even known they were supposed to sign in as volunteers, but with Ms. Mazawa nowhere in sight, he supposed there had to be some way for them to prove he’d actually done the detention work. Deciding not to waste time, Isamu went to his locker at a slight jog and grabbed his casual clothes to change in the nearby boys bathroom.

As he swapped clothes Isamu’s text alert beeped and he juggled his phone to check it as long as there was no one to scold him for texting when he should be working. The message was from Gorou, a friend from his old school. Isamu’s heart skipped a beat, he’d messaged Gorou about hanging out over the weekend three days ago, what had taken him so long to reply? To his disappointment, Isamu opened the text to find a simple “Sorry, can’t come ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” in response to his invitation.

Isamu dejectedly put his phone away without replying and finished changing so he could get to work. He stepped out of the stall sporting a pair of capris and white shirt with the word “REAL” printed in english lettering on the front, and a black track jacket with blue stripes running down the sleeves. He folded his uniform into his school bag and started back to the gym, running into Kaiyo again on the way.

Apparently she’d had the same idea to change in the girl’s bathroom. She was dressed in a pale pink shirt with the words ‘Be Kind” written under a graphic resembling a heart made out of an arrow, an army green jacket, light shorts, and long striped socks.

“Looking sharp. Leave your bag by the door and don’t forget to pick it up when you leave” She winked at him with a friendly, teasing tone and led the way back, and took him over to a supply closet once they dropped off their bags. She went on to explain “It's actually not a lot of work to get this all set up, but it takes two people to carry one table, sometimes more for the big ones. Mr. Kojima and Mrs. Arai will tell us where to put them, we just have to coordinate and do the heavy lifting.”

She wasn’t kidding about it being heavy, Isamu could hear her grunt as she pulled a table out from the closet and was soon grunting himself as he grabbed the other end and helped her lift it away. “And you volunteered to do this?” He blurted without thinking, he really needed to stop that, it usually got a laugh in his old town, but around here, it usually got him in trouble.

But to his surprise, Kaiyo did laugh, “What can I say? I like to keep busy. It sure beats going straight to my homework.” She said, they both paused for a moment while the supervisors instructed them on where to move the table to. Kaiyo showed him how to set it up, and they were quick to return to the supply closet to get another table.

For a little while, Isamu actually felt like he was finally connecting to people as Kaiyo introduced him to other students from around the school. He’d never needed anything but soccer in his life for a long time, but as he was socializing with the volunteers and other kids in detention, Isamu thought Kaiyo probably had the right idea by volunteering with other clubs outside of his personal interests.

It didn’t take long to get everything set up, and as much fun as this had surprisingly turned out to be,  Isamu was the first one out the door when everything was done- after just barely an hour rather than the hour and a half they’d thought it would take. What were the odds that Aki and Masato were still at the park? Isamu didn’t want to leave them hanging, and considered texting them when he found there was no need to.

They were waiting outside the school gates for him, already changed out of their uniforms. Masato had dark grey jeans with yellow stripes on the side, and a vest half zipped over an old graphic tee from the 80s. His dark brown hair was kept out of his bangs with a red bandana that, for some reason, Ms. Mazawa let him where in class.

“Man, they sure kept you in there long enough, did’ja have to clean the toilets with a toothbrush or something?” Masato griped as he picked his bag off the ground and stood back from the school gate.

“Ms. Mazawa told him to help set up for the archery club, I don’t think that’s what they do in detention.” Aki told him  and pushed up his glasses, his white jacket was zipped up all the way and had an orange stripe running horizontally across his chest and shoulders. He had dark green pants tucked into long boots, and his bag was strapped over his shoulder.

“What would you know about it? You’ve never gotten a detention!” Masato teased, lightly punching Aki’s shoulder, playfully, Aki stepped on his foot in response.

“He will if he keeps hanging out with you.” Isamu joked back and turned to Aki, “And yeah, I was totally scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush, all detention kids have to!”

The look on Aki’s face was priceless, it took all of his will power not to laugh, “Y-you’re kidding, right!?” His glasses slipped further down his nose and once more he had to push them back into place.

“About the toilets or about you getting in detention because of me?” Masato slinging his arms around each of their shoulders, at which point Isamu couldn’t help laughing, ruining the joke entirely.

“Well, never mind.” He said, freeing himself from Masato and  sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Sorry to have kept you guys waiting, you still free for practice or-”

“-Shidou!” All three of them turned to look, surprised to hear Kaiyo calling for Isamu.

She  was running toward them from the school entrance. She’d been a volunteer and was free to go whenever, but Isamu was under the impression that she was going to stick around to decorate too. His face flushed a little when he saw the reason she was running to catch up with him.

“What’s up Nakano, can’t you see we’re trying to escape from this place?” Masato trilled with a mischievous grin.

Kaiyo skidded to a stop and panted for a second before she looked at Isamu and smiled as she handed him the bag she was carrying with her. His bag, that he must have left at the fundraiser despite her warning not to. “You forgot this.” She winked at him, “Tanizaki wanted to hang it from the basketball hoop but I told him it was mine. You owe me big time.”

“Ah, th-thanks Nakano.” Isamu replied, taking his bag back and flipping it over his shoulders.

She waved her hand dismissively, “You can just call me Kaiyo if you want.” she said, hiking her own bag onto her shoulders and turned away, heading down another street, before shouting over her shoulder  “See you guys in class tomorrow! Don’t forget your homework again, Namura or Ms. Mazawa might actually make you eat lunch in the hall this time!”

Masato made a face while Isamu quirked his eyebrow at the bizarre sounding punishment, “It’s worse than it sounds,” Masato said, “Anyway, I guess I better get home and do that homework. You guys alright practicing without me?”

“Actually, I’d better do the homework too.” Aki said, pushing up his glasses and looking at the ground, “After all we have that math test coming up and it’s my worst subject.”

“You say that about every subject.” Isamu rolled his eyes slighting, very aware that he needed the practice for the math test more than he needed practice for the soccer try-outs, “Man, sorry about the detention guys, I hate to have you waiting for me and not have time to actually practice.”

Masato clapped his shoulder, “It’s alright, we can practice for a while and then do homework together at the park. I fail, you fail, what do you say? We can always practice more this weekend, you guys free?”

“I’m always free.” Aki replied with a shrug. “And studying together would probably be good for all of us, too” they both turned to Isamu, waiting to hear his answer.

His  fingers brushed his phone and thought about Gorou, but remembered that his friend claimed to be too busy to hang out this weekend- somethin he was never too busy for when they lived on the same side of the river. “Yeah, I’m free too. Who wants to race- huh?”

Isamu paused mid sentence, staring up at the building across the street where the air had seemed to distort for a second. Aki and Masato both looked the same way, but there was nothing to see. Isamu quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light, “Sorry, seeing things I guess.” He said, though he couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of being watched, “Anyway, I’ll race you guys to the park!” He pushed his way passed them and took off at a run, giving them no choice but to give chase.

Isamu laughed as he ran, Masato quickly started gaining on him with Aki no more than a few feet behind. The park was a few blocks away, and all three of them were exhausted from the run, “I’m.. so...slow…” Aki complained as they panted by the water fountain.

Masato checked the clock on his phone, “Actually... I think we... broke our record” He said.

Isamu clapped Aki’s shoulder, coughing slightly, “And you... kept up, just fine...I had guys on my team… At my old school...who were much slower…” He told him.

It took a few more minutes to convince Aki that he had done well, before they all agreed to sit at a picnic table and complete one page of homework before they started practice. Working together they actually managed to complete two pages before they remembered they wanted to practice some, too. Aki had a duffle bag which he kept his swimming trunks and towel in, as well as his uniform and clothes when he needed to change, and now it had become home to their soccer ball.

Between homework and practice, Isamu forgot about the strange distortion he’d seen outside the school, but while they were practicing the feeling of being watched started to creep up on him again. Not wanting to frighten Aki or Masato, he ignored the feeling and focused entirely on being the instructor, teaching both of them a trick he’d picked up at his old school to pass the ball between teammates while feigning a shot at the goal to confuse the other team.

At long last, they’d had enough practice and went back to their homework where it was harder to ignore the feeling of being watched. It was starting to alarm Isamu greatly, “Man, guys, I’m starting to get really tired” He sad, stretching to try to avoid suspicion of why he was suddenly backing out of the study group, “I think I’m finally getting this, so I’m going to head home for dinner and finish up tonight. I can text if I need extra help right?”

Masato nodded, “Yeah, it’s starting to get late, too” he said, “My aunt will get worried if I don’t at least call.” Aki agreed, and they all got up to leave the park- the feeling following Isamu, though neither Aki nor Masato seemed to be concerned. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to put them in danger so he tried to discreetly hurry them along.

However, the three of them spent a few extra minutes talking on the side of the road and finalizing plans for their weekend meet up before they finally parted ways. Aki and Masato lived three blocks away from each other, but Isamu lived in an apartment in the opposite direction.  

Having lived down here long enough to have learned a few short cuts, Isamu avoided the crowded main roads by taking less used alleyways, hoping to lose whatever was haunting him. This particular street was a back road behind a few convenience stores that occasionally company trucks used for deliveries, but Isamu rarely saw anyone actually using them.

His text alert beeped again, making him jump slightly, but he stopped to check it, this time the message was from another of his friends from his old school canceling their plans to hang out the next day. Isamu frowned and put his phone in his pocket without texting back. He’d only moved across the river for his father’s new job. Why was it so hard for everyone to meet him?

The boy became so lost in his thoughts that his sense of alertness started to fail. Isamu had his phone out again, looking up what assignments he had to for his classes and trying to decide what he needed to complete after dinner and what could be done during lunch tomorrow when he noticed movement. Isamu looked up, now absolutely certain that it was not just his imagination, or a trick of the light.

Where he had seen nothing but an odd ripple from the corner of his eye,  something melded into view. It looked like a giant chameleon wearing military gear. “Found a good one!” A raspy voice called out from the monster’s direction. Wait- that thing wasn’t the one speaking was it?

Faster than Isamu could make a run for it, a long slimy tongue lashed out of the creature’s mouth and wrapped around his body. He screamed and wiggled desperately, but was yanked closer to the chameleon’s open maw. Isamu closed his eyes, not wanting to see his upcoming doom, and wondering if the creature would kill him first or if it intended to swallow him whole and alive.

Neither option appeared to be the case, however as mere meters from the beast’s jaws, the tongue suddenly lifted him high. Isamu hardly dared to open his eyes again, but eventually had to when the raspy voice demanded he did, confirming that it was in fact the giant chameleon that was speaking.

Isamu struggled to breathe in the firm grip of the tongue, but did as commanded and opened his eyes to look at the creature, which was scrutinizing him the same way he might inspect the latest electronics while deciding what was better quality.

“Yes, yes. You’ll do.” The monster muttered,  Isamu whimpered as the tongue started to retract back toward the creature’s mouth, certain that this time he was going to be lizard chow, but to his relief, Isamu’s toes brushed the ground and he was released. Isamu toppled over, landing face first onto the pavement. “You’ll do just fine.”

Instinct told Isamu to get up and run, but logic reminded him that the creature would catch him with its tongue again if he tried...and maybe this time he would end up as dinner. “I...I’ll do just fine for what...?” Isamu asked, clearly food wasn’t what this monster was after, for now at least, but he had no idea what it really wanted from him.

The answer came with a massive foot being pressed onto his back, pinning him to the ground. “My Tamer!” The creature replied, “I am Chamelemon! And I need a leader like you to make me stronger!”

Chamelemon spoke as if Isamu should know what that meant, “You seem plenty strong to me!” He said, and wound up again regretting his tendency to say what was on his mind, when the pressure on his back increased as Chamelemon pushed him harder into the ground.

“Don’t be a fool! I barely scrapped through the war on my own! I need you to be my Tamer!” Chamelemon growled, “Now, make me stronger or I’ll kill you!”

Isamu wasn’t really in a position to say no, even if that’s all he wanted to do. Who did this thing think he was, what did he mean leader? Sure he had taken charge of Soccer practice but that hardly made him a leader. What could someone as powerless as Isamu do to make Chamelemon stronger? Two shapes appeared in Isamu’s peripheral vision, a black one and a white one. Female voices cried out strange words.

"Moon Surge!”

“Sun Bash!”

He managed to turn his head just enough to see the white shape, some kind of dog-like animal, shoot a small blast of light energy at Chamelemon. Though Isamu couldn’t see it, the black one on the other side of him was doing the same thing. The combined blast was powerful enough to knock Chamelemon back, allowing Isamu to scramble away.

With a good look at his rescuers now, Isamu realized that they were an almost identical pair. The canine features extended only to their faces and body shapes, their ears were long and tipped with tuffs of fur that were red on the black creature and blue on the other. They had long tails with spikes on the end.

“Ju! Get ready” The white one called, glancing behind her, passed Isamu forcing him to look as well.

He was surprised to see the girl that had transferred into class just that day. Ju looked equally surprised to see him, but didn’t dwell on it long as she focused on whatever it was that the white creature had told her to prepare for. Ju lifted her arm, pressing buttons on her digital watch.

The black one dodged a lashing from Chamelemon’s tongue, “Leptomon! Ju! We need to act now!”

“Don’t rush her, Cannismon!” the other replied, shooting another blast of energy from her mouth.

“All set!” Ju called, looking up from her glove, “Do it!”

The small dogs leaped between Isamu and Chamelemon, and their bodies began to glow. “Eclipse Snare!” they cried in unison and bounded forward, black and white energy trailed their every move.

Chamelemon attempted to squash them with both his tongue and his claws but Cannismon and Leptomon were much faster than him. The pair encircled him several times before their glow diminished and they sprinted away . The trail of energy they’d left behind tightened like a noose, trapping Chamelemon in its coil!

Ju took a few long strides forward, holding her gloved hand in front of her, “Initiate data conversion!” She shouted.

A computerized voice replied “Data conversion initiating.” A beam of light shot out of Ju’s watch and struck the giant lizard. Chamelemon started to pixelate, “Conversion in progress.”

“No!” Chamelemon struggled in his bonds, much like Isamu had while trapped by his tongue, and just as fruitlessly. Bits of his body broke off in small pixels and were dragged down the beam into the watch. The process was slow at first but picked up speed, and soon there wasn’t enough of Chamelemon left to struggle.

When he vanished entirely, the beam returned to Ju’s watch and the computer voice announced, “Conversion complete. Scanning new data....Scan complete. Digimon identified: Chamelemon. Would you like to view Chamelemon’s profile?”

“Not now.” Ju said and lowered her arm, pressing another button on her wristwatch.

The air around them pixelated in a similar manner to how Chamelemon had vanished, but aside from that, nothing seemed to change. “Digital Construct deactivated.” The computer said.

Ju then turned to Isamu, “You alright?” She asked.

Isamu’s mouth was hanging open in shock, “Wha- Did you kill it?” He asked.

Ju laughed, “What? No! No, I never kill Digimon. I just converted his data into something a little easier to carry.”

Isamu jumped when two small bodies suddenly pressed up against him, “If a Tamer converts a realized Digimon back into scan data, they can take them back to the Network, or even all the way back to the Digital World!” The one that had been called Leptomon said, bumping her head against Isamu’s hand like she wanted him to pet her.

“We always send the hostile ones back to the Digital World. If they attack humans in this world they’re not going to be welcome in the Network.” Cannismon added, wagging her tail, but keeping back from Isamu.

“Digimon? Network? Digital World?” Isamu looked at Ju for some kind of explanation, but the transfer student was busy giggling.

Finally she stepped over and offered him her hand to help him back to his feet. “That’s a little hard to explain, but Cannismon and Leptomon seem to like you, and they don’t usually warm up to strangers. Maybe Chamelemon was onto something, choosing you.”

“I don’t understand.” Isamu exclaimed, digging his hands into his pocket, “Choosing me for what?”

“To be a Digimon Tamer.” She replied, lifting her glove to him so that he could see that it was not a watch on her wrist. She lowered it and held her hand out again, this time in greeting. “I know I introduced myself this morning, but I think we should have a more proper one. I’m Ju Ling, I’ve been a Tamer for three years. These are my partners, Cannismon, and Leptomon.”

“Nice to meet you!” Leptomon said with a sing-song-voice, Cannismon gave the same response in a less enthusiastic tone.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Isamu Shidou.” He replied, shaking Ju’s hand and looking at the creatures at their feet for a moment before turning his eyes back to Ju. “What’s a Tamer?”

Next episode

[iwritethat]

Dick Grayson: Fate

A/N: This was actually an idea from a fictional book I was thinking of writing, cut down and shortened of course. I figured it shouldn’t go to waste so let’s apply it to an Imagine.

Warning: Mature Language

>>>>——————————>

Destiny?

Fate?

What complete and utter magical bullshit.

Another downpour filled Gotham's skies and all you could offer in acknowledgement was a vile curse to the sky - now anyone else would've assumed you were furious at the world, or simply crazy but you knew better.

It was a recurring phenomenon, a hex if you will, although your 'orphanage' had claimed that Fate followed you - as a child that meant nothing, but adulthood certainly made oddities more noticeable and annoying.

Firstly, dating had become a problem, it most certainly wasn't your appearance as you had been approached on occasion by more confident individuals who'd attempt to win your affections but that's where it ended.

It began with a charming brunette, the man complimenting your smile and asking if you needed any help navigating Gotham city - a subtle way of asking for a date but before you could answer the sky boomed in your place. Rain hammered down in the next second and you quickly covered yourself barely catching the fading voice of your companion.

"Crap! Forgot my umbrella I'm really sorry, gotta run!"

You never saw him again, nor did you think much of the unpredicted weather conditions.

It took a while for you to become familiar with the pattern, how the universe was desperate to keep you single for the entirety of your life. Often you wondered why, at the beginning you were ridiculously naive to believe it was in aid of finding your soulmate, that one person who Fate had chosen to connect you with to live happily ever after...

Then there was a charismatic blonde, this guy a degree more flirty than the last as you flushed with a mere line. Then he asked if he could walk you through the park and grab lunch afterwards due to the rare clear skies of the usually drab city. You gave him a deadpan look, his panty dropping smirk faltering briefly.

"Give it a second mate." You breathed, lazily gesturing to the sky which remained oddly clear.

You were growing suspicious...

"Ohhhh, you're a bit fucking late with this one huh?" Your voice evidently confused as you glared daggers into the unknown force, the blonde obviously weirded out by this slowly edged away and that's when you realised.

"Ah, well played! You got me to drive this one away myself, that was low even for you!" You responded to the silence, tone more frustrated this time.

However, lightning cracked in reply and once more, you were drenched by the rain and could only offer a middle finger to the sky in defeat. Fate wins again, and this time it was literally laughing at you.

"Bitch..."

Another clap of thunder mocked your rather pitiful insult in comparison.

.

Although with maturity, experiences like above and the fact you definitely were not a normal human being, after some time you settled on the possibility that gifts like yours were not meant to be shared. Either that or Fate had decided you were it's life long soulmate - at this point you didn't give a shit. You'd learnt to carry an umbrella everywhere you went, with the amount of people who regularly tested Fates patience you had to be prepared for unpredictable weather changes.

Today was a unique one though. It felt off, you could sense the unease in the air despite following a semi regular routine which you’d learnt was another gift of yours. You peacefully enjoyed your beverage in the tea shop as you normally did - only after escaping the natural light rainy showers, you curled up by the window overlooking the sky in an attempt to detect any abnormalities in the atmosphere to no avail. It was as if something was waiting to happen, you hadn't really felt anything this strong by your recollection and it only worsened as you left the cozy cafe. The weather was clear, hopefully it'd stay -

"Excuse me, sorry I just - you um - I was gonna say you have really beautiful eyes but I wasn't very smooth about it all..." The young man scratched the back of his neck out of embarrassment, flush adorning his features.

"Don't worry, I've heard more interesting ones." You offered a comforting laugh and he took it as a positive sign to continue.

"If you're willing to grab a coffee, I can try to do better but - wah, it wasn't supposed to rain?" He quickly pulled up his hoodie as you haphazardly directed him to the nearest shelter with an exasperated sigh - serves you right for actually getting hopeful, nonetheless the guy seemed nice enough.

This time, you shot a defeated glance to the sky as it reflected your darkening emotions, you were basically depression incarnate bringing bad weather wherever you went. Was it so much to ask for someone?

"Hey, you need an umbrella?" An unfamiliar voice asked, and upon turning to the handsome stranger the crack of lightning reflected the sensational spark in your veins.

"Trust me, I always carry an - no way." You instinctively reached into your bag expecting to find it in its normal place, but when you felt emptiness your stomach sickened - it was then you recalled it's perch in the cafe where you hadn't retrieved it from before leaving.

Oh my god, of all the times why now?!

The man must’ve observed the internal panic you were feeling, words failing you at this particular point and so he took the opportunity to provide reassurance.

"Hey, I'm catching the bus which is in 3 minutes so you can have mine once it arrives?" The male grinned, holding his umbrella over your dampening strands. No one, not one of your doomed encounters had even offered you their jacket or umbrella before...

Was it possible that Fate had subtly been keeping the local dickheads out of your life this entire time? Noooo, you’d missed out on some good ones. But why was this man so special?

"I'm catching the bus too, if it's okay can I stand under it with you until then please?"

"Yeah of course, I'm Dick Grayson by the way." He charmingly stated, shifting the umbrella before offering you his hand. With a soft smile, you shook it albeit with hesitance.

"(Y/n) (L/n), and I'm sorry about the storm."

"You say that like it’s your fault." Dick didn't hide his bemused chuckle, turning to find you looking rather guilty and decided to continue. With everything he'd seen, he wasn't one to dismiss such things so easily.

"But if it is, just ask the sun to shine or something."

"Oh really? You think that'll work - alright. Oi, I'm tired of your crap so can I have the damn sun already?!" Voice dripping with sarcasm, you ‘politely’ spoke to the sky.

"You've gotta ask nicely (Y/n), jeez." Dick playfully chided, wearing an amused smile as he did so.

"Please can I have the damn sun? How was that hm?" You flicked your smug gaze back to Grayson, his smirk only widening at your sassy attitude.

To both your surprise, the rain slowly ceased with the sun splitting through the dull clouds as to testify to your lack of faith.

"Well look at that, it seems like you've got it all sunshine.”

"Don't ever call me that again." Your once enamoured gaze shot to him, now mildly irritated with the petname.

"Aha you don't like it, I suppose you think it’s too bright for you.” He responded, clearly considering your more reserved demeanour in his assumption.

"We've just met, you're forbidden to give me nicknames until at least 20 minutes in."

"Hmm, then - hey, our bus is delayed..." Dick trailed off, looking at the monitor overhead with less disappointment than expected. 30 minute delay? Fuck!

"Okay I'm heading to the deli on the corner as I haven’t eaten lunch yet, would you like anything whilst I'm there? Y'know, as a thank you?" You took two steps toward the road, turning back to question the kind man before you.

But instead he surprisingly joined your side, falling into step with you and cheerily keeping up conversation considering you'll apparently be spending the next half hour together.

"Guess I'll be able to give you that nickname after all huh sunshine?"

You patiently waited for your food, the male beside you seemingly lost in quiet thought with hands in his pockets and gazed calmly up at the now crystal clear sky.

"I don't mean to sound cliché or corny but this whole situation has got me thinking about something - do you um, do you believe in fate?"

——

"Like fuck do I."

[bi-naesala]

Sparring accidents

Even during sparring he has to run his annoying mouth, making quips at him as if Maul isn’t going to respond in kind, because of course he’s going to respond in kind. He’s never going to let Kenobi have the last word, not if he can help it.

((AKA I might’ve started a Sith Obi-Wan AU series...))

Can also be read on AO3

Sparring is the closest thing Maul has gotten to real action, while Kenobi gets to play the part of the good Jedi padawan and get into real fights. Needless to say, Maul hates it. He’s never been patient - Sidious always scolds him for this - and he’d rather have “real life experience”, as he once said, meaning that’s he rather kill real people instead of having to try and kill Obi-Wan only to have to stop before he can actually do that - he doesn’t even want to think about what punishment would be bestowed upon him if he accidentally does.

As always, however, it’s really hard for him not to cross that road: Kenobi is infuriating at best. They might’ve already spent years growing up - surviving - together, but this doesn’t soften Maul’s feelings towards him. Even the Jedi had discarded him, so why would a Sith as powerful as Sidious want anything to do with him?

“He has potential,” his Master told him, and as much as Maul hates to agree, there’s nothing else he can do. It’s been quite stupid of the Jedi to abandon such a promising disciple, only for them to take him years later only because it was useful to them, but that’s another reason why they will eventually fall. How ironic would that be?

Still, Kenobi’s arrival has always meant something more to Maul: he had to do better or his Master was going to replace him. Now he constantly has to demonstrate that he’s the best, that he’s more worthy of becoming a Sith Lord, which also means having to shut down every attempt at friendship that fool Kenobi had tried to make at first - now at least he knows better than to try to approach him for this frivolities.

The problem is that besting Kenobi is no easy feat: he’s damned good at what he does; somebody would even describe his as a prodigy. Of course, Maul hates that.

 Nobody can take his place as the next Sith Lord. Nobody can rob him of his revenge, not even Obi-Wan Kenobi.

  Speaking of him, there mustn’t have been a moment in which Maul has hated him more than he does now. Even during sparring he has to run his annoying mouth, making quips at him as if Maul isn’t going to respond in kind, because of course he’s going to respond in kind. He’s never going to let Kenobi have the last word, not if he can help it.

Slash, strike, block, kick, block. There’s a weird synergy between them, a synergy that always appears when they’re sparring; it becomes more of a dance than an actual match. Maul can almost lose himself in its rhythm, and for a moment he wonders if it’s the same for Kenobi, if this is the only way they can share an honest connection - because action speak truer than words, especially when fighting.

“You seem distracted today. You sure you are well?” Kenobi asks, mocking concern. As if Maul would ever fall for it.

He growls, pushing him back with his shoulder - and smirks at the “oof” that leaves his mouth as he makes contact with his chest - and sending him fumbling a few steps back.

 It’s then that his traitorous mind formulates a thought: Kenobi looks good when he’s flushed and short of breath. He should always be like this.

 He pushes that thought - that dangerous thought - to the back of his mind, charging at Kenobi, who this time is ready to block his strike.

“You don’t seem much better than me, Kenobi. What is it, are you tired already?” he mocks him, smirking at the way the other’s brow furrows in concentration as Maul keeps pushing and pushing, until he manages to knock Kenobi off his feet.

They both fall on the ground, with Maul on top of Kenobi. For a moment neither of them move, catching their breath, then Maul grins, victorious.

“I win.”

Now it’s Kenobi’s turn to smirk.

“Are you sure?” and he closes his legs around Maul’s waist, locking him down there with him, “Because you’re exactly where I want you.”

 A frustrated noise leaves Maul’s lips, and he grits his teeth. This little--

He presses his training saber closer to Kenobi’s throat, enjoying the way he seems to lose part of his confidence at the gesture, and he doesn’t miss the way he swallows. This is how it should be. Oh, if only this was a real lightsaber…

The more Maul looks at him, the more he feels himself drawn to him, to the point that he begins to lean closer.

“And you are exactly where I want.” He doesn’t miss the way Kenobi shivers at the sound of his voice, doesn’t miss the way his pupils dilate, he doesn’t miss the shivering breath that leaves his lips.

 He dips down before he has a chance to think better of it, kissing him with a fury not unlike the one with which he charges into battle. He wants those lips bruised by the time he’s done with them.

He’s not gentle; he doesn’t know how to be: differently from Kenobi, violence is all he’s ever known, all that has ever been taught to him. The same violence with which he’s kissing his rival, who however doesn’t seem to mind, and who actually is reciprocating in kind, taking Maul’s lower lip between his teeth and sucking it, making Maul growl before pressing their lips together again, overwhelming him by shoving his tongue to explore the inside of his mouth.

What surprises him - beside how good this feels, but that’s not something he wants to think about - is how pliant Kenobi is being. He could shove him away if he so desired - as much as it pains Maul to admit, he’s not exactly concentrating that well in order to keep his position, so he could easily take advantage of this moment to free himself - but no, he’s staying there. If anything, the grip around him has gotten tighter; Kenobi really wants him there.

 It’s weird and exciting, and Maul finds himself realizing that… he’s been wanting this for a very long time.

No wonder why Kenobi’s view had become so irritating to him; if he knew that this was a way to shut him up, he would’ve adopted such methods way before now.

By the way Kenobi’s acting, it’s hard for Maul not to think that the same goes for him as well. He has wanted this, and the mere thought is almost enough to make Maul feel dizzy. He can’t decipher exactly what he’s feeling, and like other times when this has happened, he pushes it down, letting fury and aggression take over in the form of letting go of his training saber - something he never thought he’d do - to grab Kenobi’s wrists - they’re so slim and perfect - and block them on the ground, above his head.

 He doesn’t know how long they go kissing and bruising each other, but eventually they both find themselves too tired to continue. Maul will later blame his lack of energy for the way he slumps over Kenobi.

It could be read as a tender moment, which of course wouldn’t be the case: there’s nothing tender about two people who have simply exhausted their fury. Maul’s brain keeps screaming at him to get off and leave him to his bad decisions, but Maul’s too tired to comply - or maybe he just needs an excuse to do so, so that he can’t blame himself.

It’s uncomfortable at best - especially with how weirdly quiet Kenobi is being - but there’s also something oddly comforting in it, something that Maul has never felt in his life; in all honesty, he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

 Thankfully - yes, for once it’s thankfully - Kenobi isn’t able to keep his mouth shut for too long. Honestly, Maul is led to believe that he might be suffering from some condition that prevents him to fully function if he doesn’t subject everyone he comes across to his horrible “clever” quips.

“Not a bad way to loosen up, wouldn’t you agree?”

The worst thing is that yes, Maul does agree. This is different but… not entirely unpleasant, even if it’s with Kenobi - it’s because it is with Kenobi, his traitorous mind suggests him.

“Maybe,” is what he says, because even still he’d rather die than admit that he agrees right in front of Kenobi, who doesn’t seem too unperturbed by his uncooperativeness. At this point, he’s used to it, and if his Maul-common dictionary is as accurate as he believes it is, then he can count that “maybe” as a huge victory, something that encourages him to press further.

“Wouldn’t be bad to repeat it, what do you think?” he tries, hoping that Maul doesn’t pick up the uncertainty in his tone. Thankfully for him, Maul’s so absorbed in his own conflicted feelings that he barely notices him speaking.

Even if he says yes, when would they even find the time for that? Kenobi visiting him is a rare event, especially now that they’re all preparing for the plan. Today they were supposed to have a briefing before everything gets set in motion, even if things escalated with their sparring match and now this…

 Still, there’s something that bothers Maul even more.

“Are you going to tell… Master?”

As much as Maul acts like he knows no fear, what his Master can do… and the punishments he unleashes… What is he doing?! If Master finds out about this, Maul will pay, and will pay a lot. Knowing Sidious, he might even get rid of him, or worse.

It says a lot about his current state that Kenobi’s gentle touch when he goes to take his face between his hands feels reassuring - the shame.

“Of course not,” he says, and despite the fact that he could be easily lying, Maul believes him, or at least he wants to believe him. After all, if they’re found out, punishment would be harsh not only for him but for the both of them. “It can be our little secret.”

Maybe, for the first time, Maul feels some sort of complicity with Kenobi. It must be the cheeky way he’s looking at him - and he looks so young with that expression on his face, even though they’re approximately the same age - or maybe it’s the mischievous glee in his voice. That said, Maul finds himself thinking about him not with his usual rage and jealousy, but with a hint of amusement and… and nothing else, of course.

 “So, what do you say?”

“I say that, for once, you had a good idea.” It’s the best Maul can concede him.

It’s still risky, he knows, but if he gets to have Kenobi like this more often, well, then it might be worth it after all.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

All Is Found:Anastasia!AU

Part VI – Learn To Do It

Fandom: The Witcher Word Count: 3,035 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @jill-makes-art​ @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me​ @mycat-is-mylove​ a/n: A retelling of Don Bluth’s Anastasia (1997)

{prologue}{part i}{part ii}{part iii}{part iv}{part v}

Despite a harrowing start, the journey continued without much ado. When you crossed over from the other side of the mountain into Sodden you all took a deep breath of relief. Well, all of you but Geralt who was still on high alert after the attack. You and Jaskier were nearly giddy, though. You noticed that his grin was a bit wider and his steps a bit lighter and when your eyes met every now and then he gave you a beaming smile.

“Is it like this every time you come here?” you asked.

“Oh no, we never really get to keep going. We get about as far as the bottom of the mountain and then usually Geralt has someone ready to meet them to take them into town and on their way. This will be the first time I’ve actually travelled farther away in ten years,” he answered, pulling the lute around to the front of him.

“Why do you always come back?”

Jaskier considered the question as he absentmindedly strummed chords on the instrument.

“We’ve never really made enough to survive is part of it. Another is that Geralt here has an honorable streak, believe it or not, and wanted to keep around in case more needed help out,” Jaskier explained.

“For a fee,” you clarified.

“For a fee,” he agreed with a nod and not a scrap of shame which you found oddly refreshing. There was a great deal of moral posturing at the Home but very little action to support it. You preferred a frank and honest mercenary than a false saint and Jaskier was certainly no saint.

He was, however, a pain in the ass.

“Recite back to me the last four ruling houses of Toussaint,” Jaskier demanded. You groaned aloud and he stared at you, unmoved by your irritation.

“Y/L/N… Thyssen… Halford…”

“Nope,” he said, cutting you off mid-sentence, “The last four ruling houses have been House Y/L/N, House Thenadier, House Agnor, and House Toussaint, the founders of the land.”

The rest of the walk was much in the same vein and it got to the point where your fighting grew so frustrating that Geralt forced you to walk on either side of him. You joked about having to say “a witcher apart” but only Jaskier giggled, Geralt stayed stony faced and alert. The tension that settled over you reminded you of the risk you were taking and the wind felt a little colder and the snow crunched beneath your feet went from pleasant to scary, every footstep possibly echoed by an unseen assailant. You set up camp under the sweeping boughs of a willow tree and when you woke you were all in better spirits. Jaskier eased off on the history lessons and focused on what he felt were more practical matters. He strummed an easygoing melody and Geralt took your hand in his and rested his other hand on your waist. The witcher looked so grumpy you nearly laughed.

“Come now, Geralt, you’re dancing with a lovely lady – a princess no less! Do try not to look like you’re about to be disemboweled,” Jaskier called. The tune continued and Geralt danced you around in a basic rhythm, your feet taking to the steps better than expected and before long, his stony face cracked a little smile of enjoyment. You’d never danced with someone taller than yourself, much less a grown man, and you found it exciting. Jaskier’s eyes went from assessing to proud… to unsettled. You enjoyed the dancing with Geralt, it was clear. Jaskier wasn’t sure why that should bother him so. Maybe it was the way Geralt seemed to enjoy it too and the way his amber eyes met your Y/E/C ones as he pulled you back in from a twirl. Whatever the reason you’d only danced through a few songs before the music stopped so abruptly you smacked into Geralt’s chest.

“Right that was splendid, shall we be off?” Jaskier asked, suddenly impatient.  

“Yes,” Geralt said swiftly. Though he had enjoyed himself more than anticipated he was nervous about losing time and wanted to put more distance between you and whoever was hunting you. Jaskier walked next to you as you traveled, far closer than a witcher apart, so close your knuckles lightly brushed against each other’s and neither knew how much the other’s hand tingled at the touch.

The next few days were spent much the same way.

Geralt taught you both how to forage for food and while you’d expected Jaskier to grouse about the quality, he always complimented it and made it sound like a sumptuous feast instead of some berries and nuts that were half-frozen from the snow. Geralt also continued to work on your knife throwing and would watch you and Jaskier, who spurred each other to practice more, competitive as you both were and determined to be the better knife thrower. Geralt would have preferred you be motivated by a basic desire to survive but he wasn’t going to argue the point as long as you were practicing. You warmed up to the history lessons as Jaskier found ways to ground it in things you would care more about. The more personalized it was, the more closely you listened, hungry for any connection with the people whose blood ran through your veins and had once, presumably, loved you very much. Jaskier did not have you practice dancing again, to your disappointment, and if Geralt shot him some very pointed looks about this, Jaskier simply pretended not to notice.

Though it was still very much winter, everything seemed better on this side of the mountain. The sun was out more often and though there was snow all around it was the pristine snow that’s left untouched on a field, not the discolored slush that covered New Nilfgaard. By the time your trio reached the first town you were all eager for a warm meal and a night away from the snow, no matter how picturesque. As you walked through the entrance of the town you heard music in the distance and you and Jaskier both perked up, Jaskier from excitement and you from confusion.

“Why is there music?” you asked.

“There must be a festival or a celebration of some kind!” Jaskier exclaimed. You gave a little ‘oh’ of understanding. You’d never been to a festival before, the closest thing to a celebration being the annual fundraising for the Home, and Jaskier could see a lack of expected excitement in your eyes.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t tell me you’ve never been to a festival or a party of any sort before,” he gasped.

“Well no, I did. I just can’t remember it and the last time it happened apparently my whole family died,” you answered glibly. Jaskier looked over at Geralt who tried to pretend he didn’t see the entreating gaze. The bard shuffled a bit closer, trying to weave into view but Geralt kept finding something in another direction to stare at.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said in a sing-songy winning voice.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt this will be the perfect chance for her to practice what we’ve been studying,” he cajoled.

“Hmm.”

“You could go get our room at the inn and sit up nice and toasty with an ale, resting your weary frame, as Y/N and I engage in the splendor!” Jaskier continued, gesturing grandly as you entered the town square. A few local musicians played and children danced to the music while most of the adults chatted, happy for the chance to catch up without other obligations. The well in the center of the town served as the focal point, covered in bright streamers and bits of holly for decoration. The smell of roast meat on the air made your mouths water and you saw Geralt eye the tavern.

“Geralt, please?” you asked, giving him the widest puppy dog eyes you could muster. He sighed heavily and you and Jaskier shared a grin of triumph behind his back.

“Back at the inn by nightfall,” he insisted. Jaskier had already seized your hand and run off into the crowd and he shook his head and trudged towards the inn.

“Oh gods, alright, what shall we do first?” Jaskier asked, sky-blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he looked to you for direction. You gazed around and your eyes fell on the musicians playing.

“A dance?” you suggested tentatively. Jaskier’s smile broadened and he magnanimously held out his arm. You looped yours through and both of you laughed at the ridiculousness of it as you walked closer to the men playing. Jaskier took you in his arms the same way Geralt had but differently as well. Geralt had been stiff and distant but Jaskier’s touch was warm and leaned into you. Not in a way that made you feel stifled or crowded, just so you felt the warmth of his body near yours and his eyes gazed into yours in a way that Geralt never had. The butterflies you felt as he began to walk you through the dance were new and almost made you want to stop dancing but there was a light in his eyes that beckoned you on and like a moth to the flame you followed him as he moved, a natural rhythm between the two of you as you danced.

From his seat in the window Geralt watched and the closer Jaskier pulled you, the deeper his frown creased. Jaskier had never fallen for the people that they aided across the mountain. There was light flirtation at best but there was no time for long lasting attachments. In the days you’d been traveling he’d watched as you and Jaskier’s squabbles had grown less bullheaded and more playful. He’d seen how you went from walking three witchers apart to nearly moving in tandem, as close as you could be. He didn’t know if Jaskier even realized what was happening but Geralt felt a sour twist of guilt in his gut as he watched the bard dip you low, your noses brushing as he paused and just held you. Your arm was clutching his shoulder, surprised by the muscles you felt beneath the doublet, and his eyes flitted to your mouth. Geralt watched this all in breathless anticipation along with you, fearful where you were hopeful that Jaskier may bridge the slight distance between your faces and press a kiss against your lips. He seemed to recover himself and pulled you upright again and Geralt took a little sigh of relief. A short lived one, however, because he knew that was just the first of what would be many near kisses. And one day, if you didn’t get to Cidaris soon enough, the line was bound to be crossed.

-----

After the dance you’d gone to the tavern to join Geralt in eating some food. You sat across from the two men and Geralt tried not to notice the fleeting smiles you gave each other, glancing away quickly as your eyes would meet. He tried not to notice the soft expression in Jaskier’s eyes, much less the slightly puzzled but happy look in yours. He would pull Jaskier aside later to discuss it.

They’d all walked to the room together, only renting one to save the money, and when the door opened and you and Jaskier walked in Geralt stood in the threshold for a moment.

“Fuck.”

“What is it Geralt?” you asked, surprised by his outburst and a little startled, fearful that he’d seen someone’s face in the window. Geralt’s stare was pointed at the bed in the room.

The one bed.

The three of you then turned to look at it and there was a moment of quiet before you unceremoniously pulled off your boots and lay in the middle of the bed. You looked at them both expectantly and then, when they didn’t make a move, you sighed exasperatedly and leaned up on one elbow.

“We’ve been sleeping together for the last several nights,” you said.

“Not in a bed,” Geralt muttered.

“Let’s be sensible,” you argued, “We all need the rest and we all can fit if we snuggle close which we need to anyway to keep out the cold. Now, is this acceptable or would one of you rather be in the middle? Geralt? Are you secretly a cuddle enthusiast?”

Your eyes twinkled teasingly but Geralt’s brows furrowed for a moment before glancing over at Jaskier, sending him a look that was a question that he answered silently in turn. You marveled at their ability to communicate through look alone and wondered, with a bittersweet twinge, if you’d ever have that with someone one day. Jaskier pulled off his boots and shrugged off the doublet. His undershirt was half undone as usual but for some reason your stomach did a little flip at the sight of his dark, hair covered chest as he moved closer and you realized it would be pressed up against you soon, and all night. He climbed over you and your heart leapt into your mouth and then he pushed you, wriggling under the blanket (though the sheet remained a layer separating your bodies).

“Rude,” you muttered as you pushed back a bit, pressing up against more of him than you’d expected. His hand rested against your arm and you craned your neck back to find his face closer than expected, your mouths a breath apart again.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. There was the sound of armor falling to the floor, startling both of you out of your reverie, and you turned to find Geralt moving towards the bed.

“Y/N sleeps by the wall,” he said.

“Well hey now I don’t think we can just tell her where to sleep,” Jaskier protested.

“She’s safer by the wall,” Geralt insisted, shooting Jaskier a look that dared him to push further.

“I don’t mind,” you said and you boldly climber over Jaskier’s frame to the other side of him, his eyes on you the whole way. Jaskier turned to face you but he was yanked roughly aside and Geralt planted himself between the two of you on top of the bedding.

“Blow out the candle, Jaskier,” Geralt said, closing his eyes and threading his fingers together on his chest. You smiled at Jaskier, a little amused and somewhat regretful look in your eyes, and he shot Geralt a final, grumpy look before blowing out the candle and climbing back into bed. You lay in silence for a bit, none of you asleep, and when you shifted to the side and tried to oh-so-casually extend your arm to rest against Geralt’s chest Jaskier was at first struck with jealousy. Then you wiggled your fingers a bit, catching his attention, and he grinned as he turned towards the witcher as well and entwined his fingers through yours. You fell asleep like this, hands clasped on Geralt’s chest and the witcher, who was very much awake for this, realized for the umpteenth time that no matter how much they received from your grandmother, it wouldn’t be enough.

-----

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up suddenly at the sound of your mother’s voice, your heart leaping to your throat and more tears coming to your eyes, hopeful and desperate.

“Mama?”

You shrugged off the heavy blankets that tried to conceal you in the wagon, tripping over the materials in the cart but finding your balance again as you climbed to the edge.

“Y/N…”

You climb to the top of the wagon’s edge and you stand there, staring out into the world that rushes by you. The voice is so familiar, you know her but you can’t see her face.

“I miss you,” the disembodied voice calls and you feel a longing like none you’ve ever felt before and when you reply that you miss her too your words are swallowed by the cold winds but you hope she knows it’s true. You hope that wherever she is she feels your love, for that’s the only thing that this painful feeling could be. Love and its constant companion grief.

“Come here, love,” the voice calls again and your legs wobble a bit as you climb again up to the edge of the wagon. You know she’s there waiting for you if you can just take the leap. Your knees buckle and you sway and then arms grasp you around the waist and pull you back. You flail and fight but another voice breaks through.

“Y/N, Y/N stop, Y/N come back.”

The voice is desperate and scared, not comforting and warm like the one that beckons you. But that is part of why you open your eyes. It feels more real, this fear and desperation, and when you open your eyes you find yourself perched on the ledge of the well. You fall back and someone breaks your fall, the same someone who’d pulled you out of your nightmare.

“Y/N?” the voice says again and you turn to find Jaskier slowly rising up to a sitting position, hands reaching out to steady you as you sit on the snow covered cobblestones, hand rising to your mouth.

“Oh gods Jaskier…” you whispered, fear as biting as the cold winds.

“What happened?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“I don’t know… I heard someone and I just… It was like sleepwalking but Jaskier, I didn’t have any control over it. I didn’t have any control over my body,” you whispered. Jaskier helped you to your feet and tried to give you a confident, reassuring smile though there was fear in his eyes as well.

“It’s ok,” he said, “I got you.”

“But what if you hadn’t,” you argued.

“But I did,” he insisted, “Y/N, I’ve got you.”

He reached out to brush the snow out of your hair, hand grazing the curve of your cheek as he withdrew it slowly.

“Jaskier, who is doing this?” you asked, your voice calmer but now edged with anger.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He took your numb fingers in his hand and he fixed you with a steadying, determined look, “But I intend to find out.”

[normallee]

Reflections of Revenge || Nessa and Norma

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Carnival PARTIES: @dance-with-sum1 and @normallee SUMMARY: Nessa and Norma have so much fun in the hall of mirrors!! Just like two very normal humans often do!

Nessa had been dying to go to the Carnival since she started hearing it’s haunting melodies float around town. It was almost hypnotizing, and she couldn’t wait for her night off. Usually she hated taking her required night to herself, much preferring to at least check in at the club before heading off for a quick bite, but now that there was new excitement in town she couldn’t wait! Wandering through the neon lights made Nessa feel truly alive. It was almost the same energy as being in a club, with thrashing bodies, blood pumping, energy exploding. Only now she felt like she was in one of those teen movies she loved, just without the romantic date. She shrugged off the fleeting thought of loneliness and skipped towards the Hall of Mirrors, her long skirt flowing around her hooved feet. “How many tickets, good sir? Oh- and do I need someone to ride with? Er- walk through with?”

Norma was getting bored of her usually feeding grounds. And a bored valkyrie who couldn’t use her powers was nothing but a sorry sight. Lucky for her, the carnival on the beach had opened up. It seemed like a good opportunity to blend in, too. Humans went to this place of “fun.” So did many crying children as she discovered. If only she could incite just one temper tantrum. Alas, she had to feed off the scraps. She sighed and noticed a lot of the crying children were leaving the “Hall of Mirrors.” Odd, she knew many humans were unfortunate looking, but she didn’t imagine reflections would cause such reactions so consistently. Might as well explore it. She walked up to the entrance to see another woman standing there. “Great. You two can go in together. Enjoy,” the man said, practically shoving them both inside the door before slamming it shut. “Well that was speedy service,” she said as she looked around. “I’m Norma, by the way. I believe it is usually considered rude to not introduce yourself when thrown into strange circumstances with one another. Or so I've been told.”

Before she knew it, Nessa was thrown inside the attraction with a strange woman named Norma. Well, she wasn’t strange anymore! She was Norma! “Nice to meet ya, Norma! I’m Nessa! I guess we’re gonna try to navigate this thing together, yeah?” Her bright smile flashed across 3 or 4 different mirrors and she watched as her eyes widened. This was gonna be fun. “You wanna lead the way? Or I can! I’ve never done a Hall of Mirrors before, have you?” It was hard to see where the path led, but that was sort of the whole point. Nessa let her hooves lead her in the most organic route possible, but she still ended up crashing into a hard wall. “Oops! That’s not the way!” She giggled, hoping the other woman was having as much fun as she was.

Norma returned her smile and grabbed the woman’s hand and shook it. A lot. As was customary, of course. “Very good to meet you, Nessa!” It was comforting to hear that there were other humans who had not done such silly and tacky endeavors like this. In normal circumstances, she would never have come in here. She wouldn’t need to. But now, well, it sure was riddled with ambient waves of chaos energy. The whole carnival was, but there was a ping or two more here. “This is my first, too, I think you should try first. You were in line first and I’ve been told lines work in particular orders.” It was more of yelled at than told but all the same. Norma followed behind the giggly woman, wondering if she should just reach out and insight a little more chaos, get them more lost than they were. It was so tempting. And not quite worth the bounty hunters it would bring. She sighed and took in what she could. “Oh no, it’s not. How about we,” Norma spun around in a circle a few times then stopped and pointed in a direction. “Go that way.” As they walked, Norma wondered if they were alone, she kept seeing flashes of red. Lots of red. She could feel the vibrations of energy humming a little louder as they went.

Nessa radiated joy and exuberance as they made their way further into the maze. She liked this woman, Norma. She spoke a little literally, but that was fine! Nessa did that too from time to time. She wondered if her companion was something a bit more than human. Wouldn’t that be exciting?? “I’m so glad we get to experience this together then!” Nessa bounced forward, all the while remaining on the tip of her- well toes if she had them. After running into a few more dead ends, Nessa and her 4 reflections spun around, a pout beginning to form on each set of lips. “I don’t think we’re going the right way, are we?” She caught a wisp of movement out of the corner of her eye and spun, smacking her face right against the plastic, mirror wall. “Aw heck!” She rubbed her forehead and turned to Norma. “Did you see that? I think they let someone else in here before we got a chance to get out! What a rip off!”

Norma was more than happy to follow along the random, distinctly incorrect paths the other woman chose. It was chance and chaos, and though not as good as the strife of a sobbing child, it was still satisfying. “I did see something. I do not believe it was your skirt, either. This is rather unfortunate. We should demand our hard earned cash back if they let someone else in. They should be ashamed!” Norma hoped her outrage was sufficient. The mirror they had stopped at featured a very wiggly looking Nessa and a very stretched out Norma. “Look at how they’ve changed our features,” she said pointing at their reflections. “It’s quite humorous.” She laughed as she started moving around, watching how it affected the distorted view. As she waved her arms in uncharacteristic mannerisms, the picture changed and shifted. She was no longer in her modern clothes or in a hall of other mirrors. What she saw reflected was no longer Norma, but Xmucane from long ago. She was beautiful, far more so than she was now, in her own option. She was covered in blood, the tips of her hair soaked, arms covered, her entire outfit splattered red only where it wasn’t dripping. In her hands were intestines. After a moment of gleeful examination, her reflection reached out towards the mirror, almost like she expected her hand to cross through to the other side, grabbing right at Norma’s heart. For a moment, she was lost in it, longing for her old self. Then she remembered that she wasn’t alone. “Oh, um, wow!” Norma started as she tried to throw herself in front of the mirror. “That is so strangely specific and oddly life-like!” Perhaps this Nessa was too dazed from smacking her head on mirrors to make the connection.

Nessa nodded, her usual optimistic attitude beginning to skew towards irritated. They would definitely file a complaint with the Carnival manager. But then she was distracted by their goofy reflections, warping this way and that. Nessa bleated in excitement and immediately went about dancing to make her elongated extremities ebb and flow in unnatural patterns. “How fun!!” Her eyes darted over to Norma’s reflection, expecting to see her stretched to seem 10 feet tall. Instead, she saw a macabre scene, blood and gore and entrails abounding. Her mouth began to water but she reminded herself it was just special effects. Cocking her head to the side, Nessa began to examine her own reflection. Nothing but the run of the mill wiggly warping. That wasn’t fair. “Wow! They really went all out on the effects, huh?” Nessa pouted, spinning around to try to find a better mirror. Not only did the workers let someone else in on their fun, she didn’t even get the special treatment of a grotesque display! “Let’s try this way, maybe?” Speeding through the mirrors, Nessa screeched to a halt and found herself face to face with a beautiful woman reflected in one of the walls. “Oh!” Her stomach dropped and she let out a frightened bleat before backing up the way she came as quickly as possible. She couldn’t have found her here, she was miles and decades away from that hunter. “This way!” Nessa grabbed Norma’s arm and dragged her deeper and deeper into the maze.

Before Norma could lament her lost past, Nessa was dragging her away. When they spun around, Norma could no longer see herself at all. Or Nessa. She looked around but there was no one standing beside them. Touching the edge of the glass, there was no doubt the woman was on the other side of some surface or another. Odd. Norma pressed her finger a little more to the glass and felt a ripple. There was no further chance to explore it, Nessa pulled her away and they were once again racing through a maze of reflections. The chaos and frantic nature of their running calmed Norma. This felt right. Beautiful, even as their reflections were being chased by flashes of entrails and the face of this mystery woman. “Who was that?” Norma asked as they paused a moment to catch their breath. She looked around and behind them, pointed. “I think that’s the exit,” she said.

Nessa rarely felt fear. Since moving to White Crest, she hadn’t felt the need to run or hide, she’d found a new fae community, and she’d put the thought of hunters, or at least that hunter, far behind her. Of course they were still a danger, but she hadn’t been hunted in years. Barely paying attention to the reflections, or lack thereof, Nessa continued to haul them through the maze at a near breakneck speed, her hooves clicking loudly against the metal floor. “Who?” Nessa’s frightened eyes looked back at her companion. “A monster.” She gritted her teeth and pressed forward, grateful that she wasn’t alone but worried what that woman might do to Norma if she was caught in her company. “Oh!” Nessa spun and pushed Norma ahead of her, throwing one last frantic look behind her as she all but shoved them forward towards what she desperately hoped was the exit and not just another dead end.

Norma tried to keep the curl of a smile from forming on her face. The strife coming from the woman there with her smelled so sweet. If she just reached out and touched her, maybe she could just get a small taste of it, feel the anger and fear of this “monster” resonate within her own bones. But before she could even think any further of allowing that for herself, she was turned around and being shoved towards the exit sign. Norma sighed, almost too happy to keep running around in this mess, but she had to admit, the chaos was likely at an end and dwindling away. They may as well leave and she could collect whatever meager scraps of strife she could find elsewhere. Once through the door, she had to squint and moment and let her eyes readjust to the light. “Well, I believe that was good human fun! I quite enjoyed that experience.” Something still lingered in her mind, though. Almost like… concern? Perhaps? Possibly. It was also possible she was just so ready to pry any information that could be used against someone from her years of doing just that. “That monster, however, that you mentioned. What was that? Do I have cause for concern?”

Nessa practically flung herself out of the Hall. That was supposed to be fun, not traumatic. Her eyes darted around, looking for any sign that her hunter was hot on her trail and indeed the person let in after them. After a few minutes of waiting, however, it was clear she was nowhere to be found. Nessa let out the breath she hadn't realized she’d been holding and tried to smile up at Norma. “I dunno about fun persay, but it certainly wasn’t what I’d expected. Those horror effects were top notch!” She tilted her head, wondering if Norma had been a plant. How else would they have been able to make a grotesque double of her racing through holding various entrails? “Oh...no, I don’t think so.” Her face darkened at the memory. Luckily she hadn’t had to do too much to get away from that hunter, but there were others who were far more seasoned. “She...well she had a grudge against me.” And others like me. But her skin didn’t prickle around Norma like it did when she was around other fae. She could be some other supernatural, but that wasn’t for her to worry about. “Weird, though. I guess I must have mistaken one of the people they let in behind us. I haven’t seen that woman in years. There’s no way she could be here.” The words were more to comfort herself, she realized. But she smiled again, feeling a bit more at ease with each human person who came out of the Hall of Mirrors after them. The past was the past, and Nessa didn’t want to revisit it if she didn’t absolutely need to.

Norma took in the situation, tried to absorb what this Nessa was saying. Someone with a grudge. Norma could relate. Immensely. She too had someone after her with a grudge. Nessa was lucky enough to know who, it seemed. “That is very odd. But their effects there were rather specific and bordering on intrusive.” Almost like it was magic. Oh no. In all her attempts to avoid the supernatural, it seemed that she still constantly walked right into it. Oh well, she should be safe from any bounty hunters so long as she didn’t use her powers. So she hoped. She supposed she would simply have to wait and see. “Well that is good to hear your mortal ife is safe and sound.” Norma glanced around, unsure of what to do next. Not far away there was what looked like food and refreshments. “Anyway, would you like to get some overly sweet and nutritionally unsatisfactory food with me? I believe there are many stands just over there.”

[thecorteztwins]

Alt-Marauders update! It’s pretty much the Shinobi Feels edition, so tagging @esteicy-blog in case you wanna read your boy’s bits (it’s fine if not!) and @sammysdewysensitiveeyes and @littlemeangreen since you guys are regular readers! CONTENTS “Weakness” - Shinobi/Haven “Instinct” - Sebastian/Madelyne “Nature” - Sebastian/Haven “Saturn’s Children” - Shinobi/Alice

”WEAKNESS” They’d been captured, and placed in a power-dampening cell. They being Haven and Shinobi, the latter of whom was wounded, deep in his right side. Their captors had stabilized him---they wanted them alive for now, especially since they knew that letting Shinobi die just ensured he’d be revived on Krakoa with information that could defeat them---but given him nothing for the pain before tossing him back in the cell. Literally. He did not hit the floor. Haven’s arms caught him expertly and with strength that would have surprised him if he’d been thinking about anything but how much this hurt. Not the pain in his side---but the helplessness. Shinobi did not like being trapped. Shinobi did not like being at the mercy of others. It had bad memories. Perversely, Haven’s comforting presence made it worse. Because that was part of those same memories. His mother, holding him like she was, asking if he was alright, trying to soothe the pain away. He’d treasured her as a sanctuary then, but the fact was that it always came after the pain, and thus tied to it in his mind. That was the only reason he tried, feebly, to push Haven away, even when what he wanted was to sink into her, to curl up against her, to let her stroke his hair and whisper comforting assurances. He wanted that so bad but he also couldn’t, wouldn’t, be that weak little boy again who needed Mommy, who needed Mommy because Daddy had-- “Shinobi, Shinobi it’s me,” she said, “It’s Haven, Radha, it’s alright, you’re alright, I’m here, I’m right here.” She thought the reason for his weak thrashing, his trying to push himself away, was because he was confused, disoriented, thinking he was still in the hands of their enemies. But he was somewhere far worse---in the past. “I--I know,” he finally said as he got ahold of himself, “I’m fine.” He tried to push himself up on his arms. The pain was terrible for his body. But it’d be worse inside if he failed. If he was weak. He felt her gentle hands on him again, “Don’t try to move, Shinobi. You’re still hurt. They only stopped bleeding, but the wound is still--” “Don’t!” he barked, “Don’t---don’t---I’m not a child!” As much as Haven wanted to pull him to her, she was as respectful as she was compassionate. If someone was shouting at her not to touch them, she wasn’t going to; it would only do more harm than good. A comforting embrace could turn traumatic if forced, no matter how gentle, and Shinobi had been traumatized enough today. But she did not merely abandon the issue either. She looked at him with sympathetically scrutinizing eyes as he huffed and strained in his attempt to give every appearance of strength. This was...unusual. Shinobi was someone who craved attention, and though he desired more for it to be praise, she’d seen that he would settle for negative attention if nothing else would do, such as when Claudine and Madelyne waved him away in irritation at his amorous antics. He liked to show off, and was also...Haven was too kind to ever think of him as a coward, but when he realized there was real danger afoot, he tended to run. Which Haven could hardly blame him for, she was no combatant himself. He avoided pain. He sought attention. Yet now, when she was offering attention, he put himself in pain to refuse it. Something was amiss here. There was a piece of the puzzle that she was not seeing, a piece that would explain this. People were like puzzles, in their way---you could look at two pieces that seemed like they could never fit together in the same person, but that was only because you weren’t seeing the other pieces that linked them together. And while Haven tried not to think of other human beings as something to be solved, to be analyzed, to be worked out and put under a microscope---they were so much more than that, and deserving of dignity, of privacy, of keeping their hidden pieces to themselves if they so chose---she could not help SEEING these things when they came to light for her. She could not help the pieces connecting in her own mind. As these new pieces connected with pre-existing ones in her mind, the information coming together in a cohesive whole, integrating with what she already had known or at least suspected. “Shinobi,” she said very softly, but her voice seemed to echo to him, and it wasn’t because of their small cell. “Shinobi....by your father’s standards, I’m the weakest person he knows. He’s said as much. I believe you’ve heard him.” Shinobi turned to look at her, confused where this was going, and anxious at the mention of his father, the mere mention of the man when he was already in this pained, panicked state making his skin feel like it was tightening around him in anticipation of a blow. Where was she going with this. “So therefore, Shinobi, being as that is...it should be absolutely safe, should it not, to let yourself be weak around me?” She had not EXACTLY guessed what was going on. But she had gotten close. And Shinobi let himself collapse into her lap. *** "INSTINCT” “You know, I never asked you,” said Madelyne as they walked along the beach. It was nothing romantic, they were just on their way to the ship. “How’d you know it was me?” Sebastian looked at her oddly, and she clarified, “I mean when we first met. When Selene introduced me and I pulled down that drama queen cloak and there you see, the spitting image of---you know, her. I didn’t know it at the time, but you two had quite the past. How was SHE not your first thought?” “How do you know she was not?” Madelyne rolled her eyes, “You scoffed at me and called me an “unknown being”, you knew who I was---or at least who I WASN’T. If you’d thought I was Jean you would have---I don’t know but you wouldn’t say THAT.” “Perhaps I simply didn’t recognize the face without the Black Queen costume to go with it.” “Sebastian!” “You know that’s as liable an answer as any.” “You’re dodging the question.” Madelyne held out her arms to the sides, “Look, you’re basically the most morally bankrupt person I’ve ever met who wasn’t a literal demon—and I count Mr Sinister in that category—but you also gave me the kindness of individuality even BEFORE I started treating you as my personal bone machine. And I know the k-word doesn’t come easy to you Sebastian so what gives? More specifically, what did I give away that told you instantly who I WASNT?” There was a long pause. At last, Sebastian answered, and he didn’t sound sure in it at all, which was what let Madelyne know he was being honest. “I confess, spitfire, I really don’t know. Gut instinct, perhaps. “ “So Scott had no guts. Big surprise.” “Mr. Summers knew Ms. Grey in all her incarnations. I only ever knew your hated counterpart as the Black Queen, the Dark Phoenix. We never met when she was NOT that, NOT possessed by the Phoenix Force, not radiating with that strange cosmic energy.” Shaw did not know that the ‘Jean’ he had known had actually BEEN that cosmic energy and not Jean at all, nor did Madelyne, but that was besides the point. He continued, “I am no psychic---I did not have to be, to feel that power. It was more distinct than a face or form, and you lacked it. So much a difference did that make that I did NOT recognize face nor form without it. So if you are searching for some romantic reason concerning seeing your true self or some such sentimental claptr---” “No, that’s the thing, I KNOW it’s not that,” Madelyne cut him off sharply, insulted he’d think she’d ever be so deluded, “I know you didn’t love me. And I’m fine with that, I didn’t love you---did love your dick and money though. But that’s why it was crazy to me that the man who didn’t love me, saw more than the man who was supposed to.” “Well, I do hope that satisfied your curiosity,” Sebastian said, then smirked, “Now tell me again that first thing you loved about me?” Madelyne tried to push him into the water. *** “NATURE” “That’s how it is in nature, after all,” Sebastian finished, “Adversity builds strength. Look at the animals. Red in tooth and claw. Do you know what happens to the weak ones, Ms. Dastoor? They are devoured. As it should be.” “I don’t believe looking to animals as a model for our own behavior is a very good argument, Mr. Shaw,” said Haven, setting her teacup primly on her saucer, “After all, no animals wear clothing, and while I understand you find some articles...restrictive...it seems to be something you overall practice. Animals do not use boats either. Or teasets. Or currency.” “Fair enough. But simply because not EVERYTHING from the animal kingdom should be emulated, does not mean nothing should be.” “I do agree with that. I merely suspect we would differ on what should be.” “Quite correct. I think you can guess which I find most admirable. As I can guess your preferred models of behavior. Cows and dogs and such nursing their young, am I correct?” “You are, Mr. Shaw. But I think that my preferred models are actually just as conducive to your ideals of strength.” “Explain.” he leaned forward. He sounded genuinely interested, if only mildly. “I’m no zoological expert but I can tell you...it varies with species. Some, like sharks, don’t raise their young--they’ll in fact devour them. But in mammals, the strong species all nurse and nurture their young, at least the mothers do. Sometimes both parents, I think, as with wolf packs. But, let us take tigers, one of the greatest predators on the planet, surely a species that appeals to the ‘red in tooth and claw’ paradigm of power, the apex predator who devours the ones beneath it. These creatures, mighty as they are, begin as helpless cubs, blind and barely mobile. If their mothers abandoned them to adversity as you suggest they must, or worse, hurt them in order to make them strong, the cubs would die. Even if they did manage to fend for themselves in the wild without help, they’d be malnourished as cubs, resulting in stunted adults. And they wouldn’t learn how to hunt or behave. They need to loving guidance of their mother in order to be the powerful killers they become. I don’t think the father stays, but I imagine they would not be worse for it if he contributed. Therefore, I think the most successful species in your worldview, owe their success to the greatest traits in my worldview.” “Point to you, Ms. Dastoor,” said Sebastian, lifting his cup, “Though, as you yourself state---this does not apply to ALL great predators, and the tiger still does teach the cubs to hunt what is weaker than themselves. She does not nurture them forever. Surely at some point the juveniles are driven away from her, and by her own claws?” “I believe they do, when it is time. But I would not think you approved of that aspect of their behavior.” “Whyever not?” “Your son is an adult, yet you still have him taking orders at your side, do you not?” There was a very tense silence, and then Shaw smiled. “You say you’re no zoologist. Why do you know so much about tigers?” She smiled back, “Well, Mr. Shaw, it’s actually a bit spiteful, I suppose---I heard arguments like yours over and over, using ‘survival of the fittes’, to justify hurting or neglecting others. I decided to look into just how true it actually was that this was the “natural” order.” His smile became a grin, “Ah, so it is not about love of animals, but a love of refuting me.” "No, Mr. Shaw. It’s for love of the people hurt by beliefs like yours. But,” and her own smile became a grin as well, something that, despite its technical closeness to a smile, was a far cry from anything Sebastian had ever grlimpsed on her face before, “I will level with you---it is a little fun when someone doesn’t have an answer to my tiger example." *** SATURN’S CHILDREN “She was my mom, you know,” said Alice as they approached the wall of rubble. They were in the remains of the underground children where Alice and the other children had lived with Miss Sinister. Shinobi’s mission had been to get in using his phasing abilities, gather data, and get out. Alice, of course, had not been part of the plan. But when it was just her and him, she’d begged to come, and he’d...fuck, he didn’t know why he gave in. “I loved her. I still love her. And I thought she loved me,” Alice continued, as though in a trance, as though talking to the rubble and not to Shinobi, “And she did, I guess, just---just not how I thought. Like you love a car. Something you can use. Or more like, I guess, I guess---” Her voice broke, “A set of new clothes.” Shinobi, really just wanting her to shut up, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her through with him. They were in the remains of the entryway when they went solid again, and as Shinobi tried to reconcile the digital map Claudine had given him with the ruins before him. Alice quieted down as they searched, but then something else set her off, she was touching something---a broken cloning tank. Again, she was talking to it, not to Shinobi. “She loved me for what she wanted me to be for her, she loved what I could do for her.” Shinobi stepped up behind her, “Uh, Ally?” “Alice.” “Right, Alison, listen, maybe uh talk to Madelyne or Haven or somebody about this later.” “Well they’re not here!” she shouted over her shoulder at him, and she sounded both angry and in pain, taking Shinobi aback, “They’re not here and you are and you...I know you understand me!” Shinobi froze, “The hell do you mean?” “You may be dumb but I’m not! I have eyes! All you want to do is party and have fun and get drunk with Pyro! No way you’re doing all this Black Bishop businessman stuff except for your dad!” “Hey, not true!” Shinobi returned, “The Hellfire Club is power, money is power, and power is everything! And I want everything!” “You don’t want power, you don’t even wanna get out of bed in the morning! “It’s called a hangover you stupid little snot!” “Exactly!” “Wh---what does that even mean?! Shut up, I’m not going to engage with a CHILD! And after I was nice enough to bring you here! I have half a mind to leave you now, if you love it so much! That would teach you some manners!” He just might have to, if he still didn’t need to look for the data. Alice at least was helpful with that---she had lived in this place, she knew it well, even in ruins. They walked in silence at first as she lead the way to where the supercomputer’s chamber would be, until, goddammit, she started up again. “Look I wasn’t trying to be mean to you. But I mean...you’re just a kid, really, like me. You just wanna have fun. And I see how your dad talks to you. Everybody does. Even if only Ms. Haven says anything. “And Pyro,” Shinobi pointed out. “Well, Ms. Haven covers my ears when HE says anything to your dad.” “Yeah, because you’re a kid and I’M NOT,” Shinobi said petulantly. And indeed he wasn’t a kid, he wasn’t some scared little boy anymore, he was black bishop of the hellfire club, partner to black king, his father, his father’s right hand man. Emphasis on MAN. Adult. Grown-up. Powerful. “Do you love him?” “Pyro? Nah, we’re just, uh...the adult kind of friends, you’ll understand when you’re older and more mature like m--” “Nooooo, dummy, your dad!” SHinobi tripped over the high heels of his costume, “What kind of question is that?” Alice looked down, not at Shinobi but at her sneakers, “I still love my mom. Claudine, I mean.” Shinobi didn’t answer her. He didn’t even look back at her. And she didn’t ask anymore questions, or talk about their parents anymore. They made it to the wrecked remains of the supercomputer, they got the wrecked remains of the data, and they returned to the rubble blocking the entrance. And as they phased out through it and stepped back into the outside world, Shinobi looked down at her and said, “I love what he can do for me.”