#i might have made shifty too country

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Chapter 1

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: “Jesus!” You shrieked and jumped with all the elegance of a newborn fawn, spinning on your heel to find a head of blindingly white hair and pearly canines equally as eye-burning greeting you through a wide grin. Though you couldn��t see the man's eyes behind those curiously round shades of his, you could picture how his cheeks crinkled his hidden hues at the corners.

If any of the Greek or Roman gods were real, he’d outshine every one of them without breaking a sweat. 

“Not quite,” the unfairly gorgeous stranger replied with a snicker from where he leaned against the fence, “but I’m flattered.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here)

AN: no particular additional warnings for this chapter. I'll add new warnings for any chapters that might require them (for example, nsfw)

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2

WC: 15.3k

Seeing your new…home in the unforgiving glare of daytime made you realize that the realtor spent more time photoshopping the box of danger to make it appear appealing than actually selling it. Gave it to the first poor buyer that bit the bait and dashed off.

Said poor buyer was you. Apparently.

A rickety bamboo fence, chipped and scratched by god knows what, wrapped loosely around your property, the pathetic poles clinging to life by threads about as strong as spider silk. Quite the sad barrier. Honestly, you had no idea how it managed to remain upright this long at all. 

The description on the site you found it on was very, very vague with anything regarding the building. Even with your prodding, the most you generally got was “well, nobody died in it, and it’s still standing.”

Good enough for you, clearly, considering you slapped the Sold! sign on the damn listing yourself maybe 30 minutes and a glass of wine (or three) after finding the soggy, depressing shack.

Granny was right. This thing was a damn mess. It should have been condemned ages ago.

You couldn’t decide if it was bigger or smaller than you expected. Somewhat disproportionate was the best way you could put it. The terrain surrounding it was much more expansive than the photos showed, the boundaries only sort of marked out by the aforementioned sad barrier. It was considerably isolated, which you weren’t really complaining about, but you noted way too late that taking care of all that overgrown grass was going to be a nightmare on your back. Arms, too. Every part of your body, honestly.

The building itself had certainly seen better days, such as the day it was built, and perhaps the day after, if you were being generous. The agent was very shifty about exact details, but in his defense, this place was basically in the Bumfuck Middle of Nowhere, Japan, in likely one of the smallest countryside villages there was in the whole country.

You were also substantially intoxicated and ready to put down your life savings on anything.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to go that far, but you truly underestimated the scope of this ‘project’. The entire plot needed a fresh splash of paint at minimum. Ideally, you needed to shear the lawn of all those super pretty weeds that you were very tempted to just leave as is because they were so pretty, mhm, would be an absolute shame to get rid of them.

You’d need to clear out the stone path leading from the fence gate to your front door that you quite literally stumbled over last night. Or just toss the stones altogether, because fuck those things and whoever put them there.

The outer walls needed a good scrubbing, and another, and one more for good measure. Quite a few shingles on the roof showed signs of being ready to split your skull open with only a wayward breeze needed to push them off the edge. The hinges creaked horribly on every part of the building, enough so that you were certain the entire village would’ve been awoken by you tripping over yourself to get into the house had you not been a decent 10 or so minute walk from the closest cottage.

And all of this was just what was outside. 

That fence, ugly little shit that it was, was either going to become your worst nightmare, or a begrudging friend. 

You noted with mild interest that your house resembled western abodes more than Japanese ones.

Maybe if you kept the place rundown, people wouldn’t think to stop by your place unannounced. Ah, what a delight that would be. If you were lucky, nobody knew the property had been sold yet. If you were extra lucky, you could get your shopping done (plus whatever other errands you couldn’t do from home) by keeping your head down, and none would be the wiser to your existence.

Aside from Granny, of course. Kinda hard to hide from that woman now that she’d given you food off her own back. You needed to do something in return, but you set that on the back burner for now.

The interior required basically everything to be fixed up, that was non-negotiable. You refused to sleep on crusty wood floors and old tatami that had long since been glued to the surface beneath with gods know what. At the very least, you needed to somehow clean the floor. Preferably, mend the walls, plug any holes, get the pipes functioning if they weren’t already, and a whole other fuckin’ list of soul crushing deeds that needed completion.

Furniture, while questionably not a necessity for survival, was definitely a need for you. If only so you had something to sleep on other than the basically flat, nylon bag laid out in the corner of the room you gracelessly snored within.

But how?

You planted your hands on your hips and exhaled through your nose. “I wonder if Amazon ships to this place…”

A pipe dream, certainly; but, gods, would it make your life so much easier.

You could try to build your own furniture, but you trusted running with scissors more than you trusted your own potential handiwork. Which meant repairing the house itself on your own was likely a very bad idea.

“Ah, fuck,” you hissed as you realized the other shit you’d need to do aside from creating an actual proper space to live. “I’ll have to learn how to sew and garden and fucking carpent and everything…”

You groaned as you pictured every task that awaited you, and subsequently buried your face in your hands. Maybe you should have just torn the whole fucking thing down, bought a plastic shed from the nearest city, dragged it over, set it up, and called it home sweet home. You didn’t need that much space anyway, right?

“No, can’t regret this now, too late to regret this, you chose this,” your voice was muffled and grit out through clenched teeth. “Made your bed, now sleep in it, idiot.”

“Yeah, kinda dumb choice, if you ask me.”

An unexpected voice originated from behind you, startling the living daylights out of you and shooting your heart straight out of your body. 

“Jesus!” You shrieked and jumped with all the elegance of a newborn fawn, spinning on your heel to find a head of blindingly white hair and pearly canines equally as eye-burning greeting you via a wide grin. Though you couldn’t see the man's eyes behind those curiously round shades of his, you could picture how his cheeks crinkled his hidden hues at the corners.

If any of the Greek or Roman gods were real, he’d outshine every one of them without breaking a sweat. 

The warming late-spring wind grazed through the fluffy locks of his hair like the delicate touch of a lover’s hands, weaving through the fine strands and carrying his scent to you.

Mixed with the heat of the approaching humid season, you caught faint hints of sweetness, with an underlying minty tone and something you couldn't name. He was too far away for you to pinpoint the exact fragrance, but you had no intention of just skipping right over and shoving your nose against the junction of his neck to get a better whiff.

Or maybe his chest? The way he was slouching made it difficult to gauge his height, but you had a feeling he was a great deal taller than you, and the stout slope you stood on would do you virtually no favors.

The shiver that went up your spine at the thought was promptly ignored.

“Not quite,” the unfairly gorgeous stranger replied with a snicker from where he leaned against the fence, arms slotted between the bamboo sticks. How it held him up without crumbling into dust was a miracle in itself. “But I’m flattered.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you placed your hand against your chest, trying to will the wretched thing to calm down. Handling adrenaline was not your forte, much less from a scare like this. With your eyes narrowed, and only partially because of the accursed brilliance that was coming summer, you glared at the man. He was far too relaxed and cocky for your liking, still sporting that goofy grin that had you feeling things you didn’t want to address now.

Or ever.

“Who are you?” You queried.

“I should be asking you that, pretty girl.”

Your nose wrinkled incredulously. “Pretty girl?”

He chose to overlook your objection, instead nodding towards your house. “Never thought I’d get to witness this shithole get bought by anyone, let alone someone like you. Thought it’d get torn down sooner than have a hundred yen tossed towards it.”

Your eyes rolled. Hard. He wasn’t wrong, it was a shithole, but now it was your shithole. The less reminders about its miserable state of existence you had, the better. “Gee, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Completely against your will, you snorted. He was going to be a wonderful source of entertainment, or he was going to be a thorn in your side, just like the sickly sticks under his arms. The jury was still out on it.

You stared at one another for a few seconds that dragged on too long before you raised a brow. “Weeeell…?” You drew out the word.

His head cocked to the side. “Well?”

“Your name. You never told me who you are.” You knew it was polite to introduce yourself first, but fuck that, he scared the hell out of you. The responsibility was on him.

“Oh, right,” he straightened up, then bent forward with one hand to his chest and the other outstretched sideways in an extravagant bow. “Gojo Satoru, the very one and only. What about you, sweetheart?”

Pet names aside, there was a debate in your mind, an argument between whether you should give the admittedly attractive stranger your real name, or create one on the spot. You had done the latter in your later months of running all over your home country like a chicken without a head under the stupid belief that it'd further separate you from the anxieties clinging to your shins. 

You were paranoid. That was easy enough to decipher.

Your conscience had spawned this nerve wracking idea that those you ghosted – from scorned lovers who scarcely got further than kissing you, to the jobs and employers you abandoned suddenly – were after you. 

It left you constantly scanning your 6 from over your shoulder with the fear that they’d come chasing you down, eager to dig their claws into your paper-kite flesh and permanently force you down. You could visualize them tearing through your wings, winding layers of rope around your throat and knotting the dangling strings so tightly that not even the sharpest blade could break through the binds, much less let you breathe. So, you frequently lied about your identity as much as you could.

You inhaled slowly through your teeth, not enough to whistle, but enough to ground you. You were on the complete other side of the world, far away from those who would care to snarl and bare their fangs at your heels as they ran faster than you could – if there were any who desired to at all. You were somewhere new, somewhere unfamiliar, a place where nobody knew you, or could possibly know you by any means.

You told not a soul about where you’d gone. You never did. Like ash in the wind, you disappeared faster than anyone could blink, any memory of smoldering embers long forgotten.

Maybe…maybe you were safe to at least slip forth some truth about yourself.

Like most things you did nowadays, you told him your real name on a whim, and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

He hummed as he repeated it to you, as if testing it on his tongue, dipping in for a small taste. Then, that stunning grin returned, and your heart fluttered behind your ribs.

You stubbornly stamped your heel down onto it. You didn’t know why it decided to start acting up, but you were not going to entertain it.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he cooed. “What brought you here of all places? So rich you’re bored? Fell for a scam? One of those girly things?”

You scoffed.

“Or maybe you’re running from something.”

The blood in your veins froze over in an instant, your body going rigid as you stared at him. He…he couldn’t have known, right? The way he stated it, rather than asked – like he knew – had you struggling to swallow, to so much as twitch your fingers. There was no way. You– you were nobody, a blank slate, an outsider–

His head cocked to the side playfully, and the spell he had cast on you withered away as quickly as it came.

Finally able to breathe again, you vented out the air you unknowingly held and turned your face slightly away, hoping he didn’t catch your slip-up. “One of those girly things,” you settled, to which he nodded eagerly, as if you just confirmed the existence of a theory of his that ‘girly things’ were real.

Not that he was wholly wrong, technically, as you did have ‘one of those girly things’ urges from time to time. The desire to cut or dye your hair, pick up a new name, rearrange your room, or hop on a plane to the furthest fucking location you could imagine.

“Why’d you choose this…thing then?” Gojo jerked his chin towards the shabby hut.

“It was cheap,” you answered simply. 

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Where are you staying?”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked at him, your brow knitting. “...Here?”

“...Here.”

“Here.”

There was a brief pause, then he burst into laughter, his arms hugging his stomach. “Oh, god,” he wheezed. Personally, you couldn’t find what was so funny about the situation. “You serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His finger slipped under the right lens of his glasses, presumably to wipe a tear away as he worked on calming himself down. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Fire flared in your veins as opposed to ice this time. “Hey!”

“I mean, seriously, who in their right mind would stay inside that thing?”

Your lip curled over your teeth in a snarl. “Oi–”

He bulldozed right along, completely ignoring you. “There’s gotta be, like, ghosts in there. Or a shit ton of spiders. Lots of spiders, actually.”

That got your attention. A shudder shot up your back and you squealed in fright, shaking off your hands to rid yourself of the phantom feeling of creepy crawlies on your skin. “Spiders?”

The milky-headed male nodded staidly. “Tons. And, y’know, the other obvious health hazards. I bet there’s asbestos in those walls.”

You opened your mouth to argue that your house had only been abandoned for 20 years, and that asbestos had been cut out of usage some 40 odd years ago, until you remembered that 1) asbestos didn’t immediately go out of use when the dangers were revealed, and 2) you house was abandoned 20 years ago, not built 20 years ago. Who knows how old it actually was? 

Given its appearance…

He must’ve seen the panic on your face, because he gave you a piercing smile, an expression you very swiftly understood was one of scheming. “You should come stay with me.”

The world halted around you for the seconds it took your mind to process what he said. “...Hah?”

“I said, you should come stay with me,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly. “I have spare guest rooms.”

“I– you– stay with– what?” 

The grimace he gave your house could only be described as ‘execrating’. “I mean, come on, you’re not really thinking of staying there, are you? You’ll be sending yourself to an early grave like that, you’re too cute to die so soon. Just come stay at my place.”

Was he a murderer?

Your brain finally caught up with a click and you scowled. “Oh, yeah, that’s super safe,” you responded sardonically. “New girl in a new town full of total strangers with who-knows-what motives, lemme just go stay with the first guy that invites me to his home.”

“Come onnnn, you can trust me,” he whined, pouting.

“I literally just met you.”

The ease with which he gave up gave you whiplash, having expected him to keep pushing. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “Hey, did you know that your backdoor doesn’t have a lock?”

You paled.

Definitely something a murderer would say.

Your head whipped to gawp at your dwelling with wide eyes, a full on war raging through your head now.

On one hand, yes, he was a complete and total stranger. A hot one, but still an unknown entity who could just be buttering you up. Maybe the reason the house had been abandoned for so long was because anytime a new owner came in, they got snatched up by the handsome boy who invited them just like he invited you, never to be seen again.

He could have been lying about the lock – though it honestly didn’t matter, someone could probably just break through a wall if they pushed hard enough on it.

On the other hand, if he was telling the truth (how did he know that? Why?), he was the only person you knew even a little in this itty bitty isolated village (Granny doesn’t count). Anyone could go through that door at night and there you would be, wrapped up in your shitty, thin sleeping bag, prime kidnapping material. You basically did all the hard work by tying your own limbs right up yourself, easiest catch of the century.

At the very least, you knew Gojo’s name and face. Granted, the first item there was debatable, but he didn’t seem like the type to lie about his name – boast about it, more like. You’d be already acquainted with your would-be assailant, so it’d be nice to know the face of your kidnapper-slash-torturer-slash-killer, if only so you could punch a picture of it over and over in your afterlife, wherever death may take you.

You shifted your gaze to him and crossed an apprehensive arm over your chest, propping your elbow up on it while you pinched your chin in consideration.

There he was, the sly rat, wearing that dumb (cute) (no) grin of his as always, patiently awaiting your answer as if he already knew it. Nothing about him seemed inherently dangerous on the surface, but don’t they say serial killers are charming and charismatic people? He was a bit energetic for a murderer, though.

You weighed your options carefully. You could spend another horrid night in your house with the knowledge that there were likely insects everywhere, and possibly even asbestos in the walls, and who knows what else. You’d have to brush your teeth by using your water tumbler again, and…oh, fuck, you hadn’t even thought about the bathroom yet. How were you going to shower? Wash your face? Do your business? 

Then there was your poor excuse of a bed, more plastic than anything even remotely comfy. Same with the pillow, you might as well have been sleeping on the bare ass floor. Your neck ached at the thought. Then there was your food issue, your clothes, your devices…

You sighed.

“What’s the catch?” You questioned reluctantly.

He merely raised his hands in a shrug. “No catch.”

That was way too easy, but the prospect of an actual bed and a tidy (hopefully) homestead was too good to pass up, serial killer owner be damned.

Future you was just getting more and more tasks thrown at her, such as your new objective being to find an inn to live in while you figured out your home issues. And getting a job to afford said inn. But that was for way later, when you weren’t losing your goddamned mind.

“...Fine,” you surrendered. Like a pussy. Weak.

“Yippee!” Satoru cheered, somehow smiling wider. “Good girl, knew ya had a brain somewhere up there.”

Your stomach flip-flopped at the simultaneous praise and insult, confusing your head with emotions (and hormones) that you did not want to unpack. Cheeks reddening rapidly, you hissed at him through a tight jaw, shooing away the kindling something that pooled in your tummy. “You–”

“C’mon,” he interrupted you before you could even start, already turning to leave as he waved his hand over his shoulder, “I’ll show ya the way. Ain’t far from here.”

Flustered, you stuttered indignantly, watching him walk away. You shook your head in defeat and jogged to catch up to him, needing to speed walk to match his ridiculously long strides. “Oi, slow down! You’re too damn tall!”

“You’re just short,” he argued, his hands interlocking as they rested against the back of his head. “Pipsqueak.”

You gasped in offense as if you weren’t at tiddy-sucking height. “I am not a pipsqueak!”

“You totally are,” he purred, treating you like you were some sort of adorable pet. “I bet I could pick you up and throw you if I wanted.”

An unwitting laugh bubbled out of you, and for some reason, you decided to play this frivolous game of his. “I’d like to see you try.”

You immediately regretted it as he reached out for you with a shit-eating expression of absolute delight, making you yelp and race off ahead of him, screeching as he chased right after you.

“Wait, no, don’t!” Your voice rang clear, fright mixed with childlike thrill spreading to your limbs as you scurried down the open road. “I was kidding!”

“Get back here!”

The wind blew past your ears, tangled into your hair, followed the curves of your body as you darted about alongside it. You let it guide you, toy with the fabric of your shirt, cup your face with cool hands. You breathed deeply, and you flew, untethered and free and so overwhelmed.

Somewhere above, beyond the boundless and endless cerulean, a star flickered.

You screamed when you felt his hands pinch your waist, catching Satoru’s devilish gleam as he passed you, and suddenly, you were the one chasing him. He cackled as you tried to catch up to him, taunting you all the way. 

Curse his long legs. 

You wondered how he managed to keep talking so cleanly and easily while you were struggling to maintain your breath and gait.

All those years of metaphorical running, sadly, did not translate into actual, physical running. Air stung your throat, and you only faintly recognized that you were running after him through the village, more focused on keeping that head of ivory tresses in sight.

Yet, somehow, contrary to how concentrated you were on that task, he managed to slip from your view when he turned a sharp corner and seemingly passed through an invisible barrier of some kind. He had to, because when you turned that same corner just seconds later, he was nowhere to be found.

Slowing your sprint into a trot, then stopping altogether, you bowed over and planted one hand on your knee while the other clutched your side.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, your body aching in several places, both internal and external. “I almost regret skipping gym in school.”

Peeking up through your hair to check around, every part of the street you were on seemed innocuous, normal, without any obvious hiding spots Satoru might have jumped into. 

The vertically dominant fucker.

Cautiously, you marched forward, breathing heavily as you took slow steps. The game of cat and mouse had turned into hide-and-seek, and the sucker chose not to warn you. Granted, you would have done the exact same thing, but it was within your right to bitch about it, you were at several disadvantages.

The first alley was clear of anything, even objects. Nothing more than a small gap between two buildings, you doubted he would’ve managed to squeeze in there given how giant he was. Plus, where would he have gone even if he did wiggle into it? 

The next alley was the same story. There was more space, but very little within said space, only a couple crates that were too small to hide him. Again, giant.

Everything, you belatedly realized, was completely uncharted territory to you. You should have listened to Granny and explored the village first. But, if you had, maybe you wouldn’t have a real bed to sleep in tonight. Presumably. You were putting too much faith into Gojo being genuine about the bed – and not being a serial killer – otherwise you were sleeping outside.

“Bastard.” The pain in your hip subsided and you righted yourself, inspecting every direction for any indication of white hair. It would be significantly difficult to hide that feature in an area like this, where pretty much everything had a neutral-dark colored theme, and most people had black or brunette hair.

You wondered why he was towheaded. A question for another day.

He was a magician, or trickster, you ruled, rather than acknowledging the fact that he knew this town far better than you did and likely would for a while to come. 

Grumbles passed through your lips as you stood akimbo, squinting at everything skeptically. “Where the hell–”

“Boo!”

You swear your soul ascended. You could picture the trail it left behind as it rose into the heavens, pulling with it a choked croak of terror from you. The sound could hardly be considered a shout, you resembled a frog more than you did a goat in the screaming department.

Demented cackling erupted behind you as you leapt forward and clutched your chest, swinging around to glower at the boy in utter disbelief. Twice now he had done this. Twice! Beside yourself, you rushed over towards him and smacked his arm repeatedly, which only fueled his laughter. “Dick!”

“Fuck!” Satoru heaved, reaching his whistle register. “Priceless! Oh, my god, you should have seen your face.”

“I’m gonna kill you!” The threat was far less menacing than you wanted when your own voice was as squeaky as his. 

By the time he calmed down, you were both panting – you out of chagrin (and for the sake of your poor heart), and him to get precious oxygen back to his smooth brain. 

“I’m serious about that, by the way,” you pouted at him. “I’m gonna kill you for scaring me. Again.”

He beamed at you and reached to pat your head, but was intercepted by your hand, only to dodge around it and manage to get a few head pats in anyway. “Sure you will, sweets.”

You growled and stomped a few steps away, stopped, then whirled back around when you remembered you had no idea where you were going. He simply crossed his arms over his chest and scrutinized you with that stupid, supercilious visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged eagerly. “Ask.”

The inside of your cheek was going to be sore from how much you were chewing it. You were at an impasse; let him win, or try to find his place on your own. With no idea what it looked like. Or what direction to even go.

You imagined you’d have better luck wearing a blindfold if you tried the latter option. Either way, he was going to win, you could acknowledge that. Conceding and requesting his continued guidance meant handing over his victory on a silver platter, or he’d get some decent entertainment out of watching you try to figure out where the hell he lived.

Gods, you were regretting moving here already.

“Show me how to get to your house,” you mumbled.

The tall freak fake-cooed at you. “Aww, come on, you can do better than that.”

If glouting could kill, you would be slow-roasting him over a grill. In the meekest voice you could manage, you muttered, “please.”

“Hmmm?” He canted closer towards you. “Didn’t quite catch that.”

You could feel your sanity draining like sand in an hourglass. Just to get it over with, you spoke properly. “Please show me how to get to your house.”

The jubilant grin he gave you had you reconsidering that blindfold idea you had. “Better! Good girl, come along, now.”

Oh, your insides could just melt.

No, you argued with yourself as you trailed behind him, reluctantly obedient. You are not getting horny over that, you sad sack of potatoes. You’re just pent up. A pretty boy calls you a good girl and you’re a sobbing mess under your pants.

Pathetic.

He whistled a sharp tune as he lazily led you, weaving around the architecture in such a way that you knew you never would have found the damn place on your own – or find your way back, for that matter. He was doing this on purpose to get you confused just to fuck with you, you knew it. 

You were placing a lot of stock in him not being a murderer.

“Keep up, shortie,” he waved his fingers over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

Taking a (albeit mild) hike up a road traveling up the mountainside was not something you expected nor planned for. Now you were lamenting skipping gym. Not that participating more in exercise over a decade ago would help you currently, but at least you’d be able to believe you were stronger than this.

Satoru watched you with no small amount of amusement as you finally caught up to his still figure, lips curved. “Man, you suck at this.”

“I didn’t exactly study hiking in school,” you grumbled, closing your eyes and breathing deep.

“I’d hardly call a walk ‘hiking’,” he commented, and you wimpishly smacked his arm. “We gotta work on your stamina.”

You could hear the smirk and underlying innuendo without needing to see his stupid, handsome face.

“In your dreams, pretty boy,” you muttered.

“How do you know what I dream about?”

Your eyes popped open to glare at the man as he fluttered his lashes and pressed his fingers to his chest. “You’re a menace,” you scowled, ignoring his faux ‘innocence’ in favor of looking ahead.

And getting the wind utterly knocked out of you.

This grandiose mansion was where he lived?

Balking, you stared up at his house from beneath the arch of the moon gate in front of it, taking in the sheer magnitude and extravagance of it, even from just the outside. A variety of leafy trees, well trimmed bushes, and aromatic flowers decorated it in precise symmetry, each individual blade of grass nipped to preeminence. 

There was a garden off to the left, freshly tended to and beautiful with a pond in the center. You couldn’t see what was in it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if koi fish were there as well.

A partially shaded gazebo stood on the other side, right next to a gentle creek that trickled leisurely. A stone table sat in the center, and you could imagine drinking tea in the early morning there, when the sun would hit it at the right angle to warm you up.

The aesthetic was prizewinning; a wonderful, skillful mix between traditional and modern, all incorporated into a house you thought could only exist in one of those style magazines.

How long had it been here? How had it been built so extravagantly? How much did it cost?

All these painfully curious questions, yet, the first thing you thought to say when you opened your mouth…

“You said it was nearby,” you pouted. “This is the other side of town.”

“Eh?” He glanced down at you. “Doesn’t seem that far to me.”

Your index finger flicked the outside of his thigh. “That’s because you’re a walking tree.”

Gojo slapped his thigh in the same spot, beaming at you. “These are good for a lot of things.”

“I’m sure,” the unamused deadpan you gave him had him snickering.

That shit-eating grin was back and he waggled his brows. “I could show you.”

“Pass,” you rolled your eyes, addressing his house instead. “Why is your house so far away from the village? Up the whole ass mountain and everything.”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dunno. It was built here a long time ago. Obviously upgraded over the years, duh, but if I had to guess, it’s because of the hot spring. The rest of the village just built lower down the path for convenience, or they were intimidated by the Gojo name.”

“Hot spring?” You furrowed your brow. 

Nonchalant as always, he nodded. “Yeah, there’s a natural hot spring in the backyard.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you have a hot spring in your backyard?”

Being the rich boy that he was, he cocked his head to the side and spared you an inquisitive peek, as if to say ‘you don’t have one?’ “Yeah? You wanna see?”

“Uh, yes?” You gawked shamelessly.

Satoru grinned and beckoned for you to follow, and you skipped right along behind him, barely managing to remind yourself to hurriedly take off your shoes at the door. You had to force yourself to be careful and line them up neatly. You also used this chance to eye the obviously rich-people footwear. You wouldn’t hesitate to bet that one pair alone was worth more than one of your kidneys.

All worries of him being a potential monster dashed out the window as you let him lead you through the winding halls to a shoji door near the back of his house – you had to guess, you were not paying attention at all. You were too focused on the expensive decor and feeling way out of place.

The scenery that greeted you as soon as the door slid open had you stopping dead in your tracks in shere awe.

He hadn’t been lying, there really was a hot spring in his backyard. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about his smug expression, mindlessly allowing him to gently push you forward with a hand to the small of your back.

“Close your mouth, you’ll start drooling,” he teased.

Your jaw clicked shut and you shot him a half-hearted glare before your attention returned to the pool of steaming water ahead of you.

The entire area was gorgeous, honestly. Round stone circles created a path along gravel from the engawa to the basin, which was surrounded mostly by rocks with plants growing between cracks and around the base here and there. Massive pines encompassed the entire area, giving you the sensation of safety and protection.

A trail on the side led somewhere else, winding between mounds of perfectly maintained green terra, though that was of insignificant interest to you at the moment.

An instruction was murmured against the shell of your ear, and you wordlessly and thoughtlessly obeyed. “Look up.”

“...Oh.”

High above, between the gaps in the trees, you had a prime view of the sky, spanning across the ring the forest created, deep and wondrous and so…clear. The brightest blue you had ever seen. If the moon got caught just right, exactly in the middle, you believed magic would happen.

The towering pines kept the area shaded and pleasantly cool, and you were swept away by the urge to sink into the hot spring and let everything else fade away. 

When you lowered your chin to look at him, you found he was already gazing at you, his grin softened to a small upturn of his lips at the corners. He was just so…divine. Moonflower hair framed his face, cottony and fluffy, and though you couldn’t see his eyes clearly through the indigo tint of his shades, you could feel them. They were piercing, capable of seeing right through your skin and witnessing your heart beating as it stuttered and struggled to regain its footing. 

The way he studied you felt so familiar.

An intense watch, pinned directly on you, making the hairs on your nape stand.

You yearned to see his hues without the barrier his dark, round glasses provided, and you wondered if they could rival those of the sky, or the gods’. 

“Whatcha think?” He asked silkenly as he leaned forward and tilted his head to be closer to you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured in response without really thinking, the words flowing out of you without your conscious action. “It’s like a dream.”

You weren’t sure if you meant the eden you were brought to, or the heavenly being beside you. Either way, he smiled radiantly at you and nudged your shoulder lightly with his own.

“Wanna touch it?”

Your lashes fluttered as you tried to come back to yourself and not let your mind wander to places you could not reach. “The hot spring?”

“Mhmm.”

It took a considerable amount of effort to tear your eyes off of him and set them back on the cirque of water hidden beneath mist. Like a siren’s song, you slipped on the outdoor slippers nearby and stepped off the engawa, pacing along the stone path. It was smoother, flush with the terrain, unlike the haphazardous placements of the ones you had at your own home.

The pool was milky, tinted with a rich, capri shade, reminding you instantly of a lagoon, or a salt flat mirroring the zion above that went on as far as the eye could see. A miniscule waterfall trickled placidly from the highest outcropping, following the narrow and shallow path it had carved for itself over countless years.

You resisted the urge to cup it in your hands and drink it like sacred nectar.

At the edge, you knelt down and skimmed the tips of your fingers across the water’s surface. Goosebumps broke out across your arm and you shuddered inadvertently. Heat spread over your palm as steam coiled around you, surrounding you partially in a cocoon of warmth. The temperature bordered on the line between too hot and not enough finely, urging you to crawl beneath the water’s cusp and embrace the cradle of coziness.

“Good, isn’t it?” Gojo startled you as he spoke from where he knelt down next to you. He seemed to be proficient at scaring the shit out of you. This close, you could detect his attar clearly, and the last part of his unique fragrance finally fell into place.

Lemon.

He smelled like sweet lemons and mint.

“Yeah–” you squeaked, and cleared your throat to try again. “Yeah, it’s really nice. Like…perfect, actually.”

He snickered and dipped his hand into the diaphanous liquid, bringing it back up to splash it onto your arm. With a cry of mock offense, you splashed him right back, cracking up as you managed to get a decent scoop into his mouth. 

You didn’t know what it was about him. Rightfully, you’d only been aware of each other for less than two hours, but it felt like you’d known him your whole life. The banter flowed easily, the games you hadn’t played since you were so young that you could only vaguely remember, the way he spoke to you, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

No heavy feelings sat on your chest, creaking the brittle bars of your ribcage, filling you with an innate sense of dread and desire to flee and never stop for a second. Nothing of the sort crossed your mind. No rock weighed in the pit of your stomach, no widow’s voice murmured in your ear.

It was just you and him, in a bubble of time where nothing and everything mattered all at once. Every breath you took was meaningless, yet held the weight of the world. Every twitch of his fingers could rest even the weariest souls, or rend the sky apart should he ever care to. 

But he didn’t, and neither did you. 

This pocket-sized domain of serenity you found yourself in brought forth dormant feelings of ease and comfort. 

They didn’t feel like a mask painted on to cover the blooming, spreading bruises under your skin and behind your solar plexus. They didn’t feel like a temporary setup to sate your mind until the panic overwhelmed you all over again.

Rather, they composed a nest of the finest blankets you’d ever touched, let alone slept within. You wanted to crawl in and close your eyes and hibernate, sleep as life passed you by. You wanted to live in this moment forever.

The shoulder of his shirt grew damp where he rubbed his curled lips against it. “Kitty’s got claws, huh?”

“Fangs, too,” your nose scrunched up as you gave him a sly, Cheshire cat smile. “I’ll let you kill me if you let me use your hot spring first.”

“Deal.”

You snorted. “Not even gonna dispute it, huh?”

“I’m assuming the ‘kill’ part is optional here.”

“I won’t push my luck then,” you accepted as you stood up, shaking any excess moisture off your hand. Upon remembering Granny, you pulled out your phone from your purse, tsking at the 47% charge level in the top right corner, then glanced at the time. Midday.

Satoru peeped over your shoulder after he rose up. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Time,” you replied, shooing him away to stop him from being nosy. Not that you really had anything worth hiding. 

Most of the pictures on your phone were photos you’d taken of the outside world during your trips, random things that meant something at the time you snapped the pic, but meant absolutely zip now, or blurry images of animals that refused to stay still for you.

“Granny wanted me to explore the town to get more familiar with it, then stop by for lunch,” your phone locked with a click as you stuffed it back in your bag and continued your explanation.

He whistled. “Adopted by Granny, and on your first day, too? That’s impressive, means you’re special.”

“Eh?” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? She seems like she’d be a nice person to everyone.”

He chuckled as you both headed back into his house. “Granny’s a prickly lady. Don’t get me wrong, she cares about everyone in the village,” he reassured you as he let you step in first and slid the door shut behind him, “but mostly in a ‘I-will-throw-my-shoe-at-you’ kind of way.”

“Huh,” that didn’t sound too far off from Granny, given what you knew, but you had also only met her that morning. “She gave me free food and told me she’ll have a list of handymen when I go back today.”

“Wow. She won’t even let me steal a candy bar from her store, and I’ve known her my whole life. Must mean you’re really special.”

“There’s a difference between buying and stealing, Gojo,” pausing in your steps, you frowned as contemplation came over you. “...Do you think she thinks I’m incompetent?”

“Probably.”

“Gojo!” You hissed at his lackadaisical response.

His hands raised in surrender. “Kidding, kidding! I think it just means she likes you. C’mon, I’ll show you around town.”

Following his actions, you tugged your shoes on while you thought aloud. “I didn’t even do anything. Walked around her store like an idiot and nearly ran into her.”

You stepped out of the house behind him, waiting for his response. You had expected him to laugh and indeed confirm that you were an idiot (which would be twice that day, if you were keeping proper track), or come up with another quip to taunt you with, but he was quiet, pondering something.

“You have this…aura about you,” he eventually responded. “You’re different.”

“In what way?” You approached the topic carefully, wondering if that was a good or bad thing.

His shoulders lifted and dropped. “Dunno, I’m not good with words. You’re just different. You’re easy to like.”

The incline down from his house back to the village was easier than going up it, a slow slope that followed a mild curve. The road was smooth, free of cars. Those you had seen were parked along the streets below, and not often used from what you could tell. The walk gave you time to consider his words.

You’d heard them before, but nobody ever clarified how you differed from others. He said you were likable, so you chose to believe he meant it in a good way. You’d try to pry more information out of him at some point to sate your cautious curiosity.

“How long have you been here?” You asked instead to change the topic, then winced, remembering that he mentioned his family had been here for a long time.

“Eh,” he tilted his hand side to side a few times. “Maybe 15 or so years, including my baby years.”

Oh. Turns out you were…wrong?

“You weren’t born here?”

“No, I was,” he corrected. Ah, so you were. “I just spent a few school years in Tokyo before returning not too long ago.” Sort of.

“Oh, I see,” mindlessly, you took his hand when he offered it to help you step over a gap at the bottom of the hill. His palm radiated warmth, one you missed when he pulled away and continued leading you along. “Why’d you come back?”

“Missed home.” Your gaze met his when he shot you a glance from over his shoulder. “What about you, sweets? Where'd ya come from?” Upon your answer, he nodded. “Came a long way to get here, huh?”

It’s probably best if I don’t tell him why I came here. Not yet. Not ever. “You could say that,” you responded, stopping when he did. You were grateful that he didn’t push the topic.

He pointed towards something, and you angled forward to see around his body, listening carefully as he explained what was where as he guided you through the winding streets.

“Doctor lives there,” you raised a brow at the full body shudder he experienced. “She can get scary when she’s mad. Otherwise, chill person.”

“Noted.”

While you were curious about the doctor of this village, you had no intention of meeting her by ending up in her clinic after doing something moronic, like tripping on those stupid stones outside your front door. Or walking in purely to introduce yourself. That’d be weird.

As he pointed out various family homes, stores, and miscellaneous locations, he listed off names you definitely weren't going to remember anytime soon. You found it endearing that he knew everyone and shared some tidbits of gossip with you – “Auntie Furiko lives there and she totally has a grudge against Mirio-san for stealing her man.” – and he even imparted some knowledge about a few historical places and things in the village, such as the bridge over the river having been built some 400-odd years ago. 

“It was originally built as a passage that only allowed humans through,” he explained. “Back then, cursed spirits were a common thing, so the founders here created a path that had a sort of invisible wall that cursed spirits and objects couldn't get through. Like a curtain.”

“Huh,” you responded plainly as you examined the bridge. “Couldn't the spirits just go through the river?”

His candytuft hair fluffed as he shook his head. “The veil goes around the entire village, the bridge was just there for convenience's sake,” he cocked his head towards you. “But those are just legends and stories. There's plenty of tales about jujutsu sorcerers that could see the cursed spirits and eradicate them. Some people still believe cursed spirits and sorcerers are a thing, and blame disasters, like earthquakes and tsunamis, on them.”

You raised a curious expression. “Do you believe in that?”

Satoru shrugged. “To me, it’s like believing in ghosts or demons. Even if they are real, there's no way they'd beat me,” of course, he said that last bit with full-bodied, unadulterated confidence. “I'm the best.”

A fond snort escaped you. An egomaniac as a new friend(?), that seemed exactly like the kind of trouble you'd get yourself into.

Your eyes shifted over to peer at the Wayo Kenchiko edifice situated higher up, reminding you of the wonder you felt when you first saw it.

You turned fully towards it and tugged on Gojo’s shirt to draw his attention to it as well, your interest taking precedence as you regarded it. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Hm?” He followed your line of sight. “The temple?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s technically a shrine,” he clarified. “It was built when the settlers first got here, dedicated to the wolves of the mountains.”

You squinted at him. “Wolves?”

He nodded eagerly. You never would have guessed him to be somewhat of a history buff. “Yep. Wolves are like…guardian dogs. They’re long gone now, but way back then, it's said they hunted alongside the settlers. Wolves are seen as messengers for mountain gods, so people would pray to them for safety, good hunts, and good harvests.”

You nodded as you followed along. “So you guys primarily farm here, then?”

“More or less. Though we do get a lot of imported stuff from the neighboring city, like the things in Granny’s store. We do mostly exports there. It’s where a lot of the people in this village work.”

“Really?” You frowned slightly. “Isn’t that city, like…an hour or so from here?”

He acceded and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, why?”

“Just seems like a far way to go for work.”

Gojo shrugged as he started walking again, leading you further into town. “Keeps our village alive and well. We gotta keep up with the times, ya know?”

“Suppose so,” you acquiesced. “What do you guys farm here?”

“Ehh, rice and soya, I think,” the teasing twist of his lips had you preemptively rolling your eyes. “Surprised you didn’t know that, girlie; moving to a new place you know nothing about seems risky.”

“I didn’t exactly spend my time digging into the dirt of every single person here, y’know.”

He snickered. “I have dirt on everyone. You want some gossip?”

You huffed. “I’d rather meet someone first before you air their dirty laundry to me. I wanna have an unbiased palate.”

“Oh, so you want to meet the people in this lil’ valley of ours?”

“No,” you replied automatically, then pressed your lips tightly together at your minor flub. “I meant– it’s not– I’m just not–”

His boisterous laughter cut you off, simultaneously making your eye twitch and relief flood you.

“Relax, pretty girl,” he patted your head and you scowled. “I’m just teasin’ ya.”

“I’m seriously going to kill you.”

“Cute,” he crooned, and you groaned.

By the time you two walked up to your kind-of-not-really-grandmother’s shop, you were starting to become familiar with this particular section of road. From here, you knew how to get ‘home’, something you were dreading a touch. You weren’t looking forward to seeing the catastrophe that awaited you.

“And this is where I leave you for now,” he stopped with you in front of the store.

You frowned minutely, an uncomfortable pang of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’re not coming in?”

“Nah,” Gojo shook his head. “Got stuff I need to do. I’ll have someone pick you up from your house later, once you get your stuff. Gimme your phone for a sec.”

Your brows knitted together as you pulled out your phone and unlocked it for him. His fingers grazed yours as you passed the device, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference. They were so warm – or maybe your hands were cold. The touch lingered on your skin, your mind clinging to the tiny wisp of sensation.

The screen of your phone coming back into your line of sight brought you back from mildly zoning out. Almost uncertain, you took it back from him and peered at the screen to see what he did.

You snorted.

He set up his own contact in your address book, making it extra flashy and everything, too. ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨ graced your sight, and you couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t the first time he had done this, the flamboyant clown.

“There,” he grinned. “Text me when you’ve got your stuff from your place.”

Stuffing the device back into your purse, your moue returned. “You want me to bring my shit to your house?”

His brow raised in response. “Uh, yeah? Were you just gonna leave it in that drab hut?”

“Well, I just thought I’d get a room at an inn or something tomorrow, so I don’t have to bother you.”

The usually bright expression on Satoru’s face fell somewhat, his voice taking a earnest tone when he said your name. The back of your neck tingled at the chime of your name passing through his lips. “You’re not a bother. Seriously, I have more space than I know what to do with. You can stay at my place as long as you need, I insist.”

His change in demeanor threw you for a loop. There was something lying under the surface of his countenance, hidden under layers of a façade wrapped too tightly around his inner being for you to ever hope to see what was beneath. The switch from goofy to sincere struck you as odd, and while you could have jumped back on the ‘he’s a psycho’ train of thought, his insistence didn’t resemble that of a hunter panicking about losing his prey.

Rather, it stemmed from a genuine offer made out of concern for your wellbeing. Sure, he could have been hiding some intentions (he definitely was), but he did show you the path to his house, convoluted as it was, at least some of its interior, and even the hot spring carved behind it. When you mentioned Granny, he seemed amused, rather than worried, and showed you around these confusing and interesting backwoods.

Thinking about the whole mess you had gotten yourself into, what with buying a house in a province you knew nothing about, and your limited funds, an uneasy heaviness sat in your gut. If he was suggesting an option of solace and shelter while you figured your shit out, you had very few reasons to decline.

A bit too readily, perhaps, you set aside any preconceived notions you had about him being suspicious and nodded. “Alright. Thank you, Gojo.”

“Just Satoru is fine,” that smug visage returned, all earlier signs of sobriety fading as quickly as they came. He turned back towards the way you came from, waving over his shoulder lazily. “See ya later, sweets.”

You spied on him for a while, until he disappeared around a bend, and sighed. Considering everything that happened so far, you surmised you were in way over your head.

The doorbell to Granny’s store pinged a sweet tune as you stepped in, finding the familiar scene nearly untouched from before. The air inside was pleasantly cool compared to outside, encouraging you to relax.

“Granny?” You called out as you stepped further in, glancing down the first aisle. “Are you here?”

“Ah!” The woman you were searching for called out from a separate room, appearing through a door you hadn’t noticed at the back of the store before, carrying a bento box. “Perfect timing, I finished that list for you.”

She beckoned you towards her as she rounded the counter, setting the bento box down on top of it and digging around for something under the tabletop before straightening and holding out a sheet of paper for you to take. Your fingers closed around the yellow notebook sheet and you peered down at the writing. 

You silently thanked her for having a neat hand, as you were a tad rusty on your hiragana.

A row of names spanned down the paper, along with numbers next to each one. She had also included their specific occupations, making your life that much easier. 

“Those are some folks in this village that can help you out. Unfortunately, most of them work in the city, so I fear you might not be able to fix up your house so soon,” Granny noted solemnly as began untying the beautifully designed furoshiki wrapped around, presumably, your food. “Let me call up a friend to find you a place to stay for the time being.”

“Oh, n-no, it’s fine, Granny!” You raised your hands in front of you. “I actually found somewhere to stay.”

She raised a brow at you. “With whom?”

The nervous laugh you let out was meek and not very reassuring. “I, uh…ran into Gojo Satoru, and he offered to house me. I was gonna find an inn, but…’

A perturbed expression morphed her stern features. “Really? Little Satoru offered to house you?”

Little was a gnarly stretch on her part, considering Satoru easily dwarfed both of you. “Is that bad?”

Granny sighed and shook her head as she finished undoing the cloth. “Not necessarily. He’s a troublemaker, that one, but…well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him invite someone who isn’t one of his close friends to stay with him before.”

“Huh,” Your lips curled downwards. Were you actually so unique that he treated you differently than others? “He’s a bit…” You fumbled with your words, trying to find the right description. “Dramatic, for lack of a better word, but he showed me around and said he’ll have someone pick me up later.”

Her movements had slowed as she kept her eyes on you while popping open the box, studying you. She grabbed the pair of chopsticks in the lid and held the food towards you, which you took without fuss and with a quick ‘thank you’. The length of silence was beginning to unsettle you, so you tried to cover it by taking a bite of the katsu she prepared for you.

And maybe groaning tacitly because, fuck, was it good. Astounding, otherworldly, you would bet easy money that no 5-star restaurant could compare to Granny’s cooking.

Eventually, she spoke again, albeit puzzling you. “It’s no wonder you caught their attention. You are a beautiful, bright young woman.”

Your chopsticks hovered mid-bite. “‘Their’?”

“Mhmm,” the older lady nodded and tsked fondly as she grabbed a hand towel and wiped down a portion of the already spotless surface under her hands. “There’s two of them.”

A pin could drop in the room and it’d be deafening with the silence created by your shock. “There’s two Gojo’s?” 

Her amusement turned into full blown laughter. “No, but there might as well be.” she corrected herself. “Those two are stick at the hip–”

The jingle of the bell over the door and the call of someone cut her off. You turned to watch as an attractive woman with mid-length brunette hair stepped into the room, carrying a box in her arms. Were all the people in this town contemptuously stunning? “Granny, I got the–” she stopped promptly upon seeing you. “You’re new.”

You nodded and your pseudo-grandmother introduced you. 

“I see,” the brown-haired girl said with a nod. “Well, nice to meet you. I’m Ieiri Shoko, your local doctor and mortician. Just call me Shoko.”

So, this was the doc– wait, what?

Your eyes widened. “...Mortician?”

“Correct,” Shoko grunted as she dropped the hefty box on the floor with a grunt. “Which means you shouldn’t do something stupid or piss me off unless you want to end up in my morgue.”

Now you had two reasons to fear her, counting Satoru’s warning. “Duly noted.”

Your gaze followed her as she reposed against the nearby wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “When’d you get in?”

“Last night.”

“Helluva place to settle,” she commented. “What brought you here of all options?”

Settle.

I’m not so sure about that.

You chewed another piece of katsu and swallowed before answering. “Population. I’m not a very big people-person.”

A smile lifted her lips and she exhaled through her nose. “You and me both, girl. If you wanna be as far away from mass civilization as possible, this is the best place to be. Second only to going nomad and living in a forest alone like a witch.”

She sighed wistfully, and you had the sneaking suspicion that part of her yearned for that kind of lifestyle. “Looks like you’ve thought about it before.”

“I have, but this town is full of idiots that need me, or they would have died a long time ago.”

“Shoko, be nice,” Granny scolded half-heartedly, though you could spot the amusement in her eyes.

“What? I’m not wrong,” Shoko averred as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. 

Just as she went to open it, Granny swatted her hands and gave her a scathing glare. “Not inside, Shoko. Really, go outside, at least.”

The doctor/mortician grumbled as she stuffed the box back where it came from, giving Granny a weak stink eye. “Anyways, welcome to this miniature province of ours, girl.”

“Thanks.”

“Mm,” she acknowledged, then began a lecture. “Avoid the west trail that goes past the village boundary and up the mountain. Nothing bad there, just has this weird smell to it. Probably haunted by some shit,” Shoko informed you. “Also muddy half the year. Grandma Ai can and will talk your ear off if you stop for more than a second. Good luck getting away from her if she ever catches you.”

You munched slowly as you listened to her advice intently. In any of the cities you stopped by, there weren’t really any communities – not like this, anyway – so you were fascinated by the dynamics these people displayed.

Yes, you were wary, sure, but learning about the town’s intricately interwoven families and neighbors didn’t mean you were getting close to anyone. If anything, it meant you could avoid attachments.

…Right?

Yes. Right.

“–Wednesday is trash collection day, but you might have to bring your trash closer into town if you’re too far out. Oh, and don’t go to the park on Thursday nights–”

You blinked yourself back into full awareness. Your safe haven the park was off limits now? “Wait, why?”

She humbled you with a deadpan that had you straightening your back, imploring you to obey. “Aoi and her boyfriend like to fuck there on Thursday nights.”

“Tch,” Granny clicked her tongue, glaring at Shoko. “Don’t be so crass. We have a guest.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” you waved off her concern. “I don’t mind. I appreciate the forewarning. Besides,” your lips curled into a playful smirk aimed towards Shoko, “I like when people are straightforward.”

She returned the grin with a sly one of her own. “You and I are gonna get along well.”

Similarly to Satoru, speaking to Shoko was easy. It felt like you were reconnecting with old friends – friends you knew when you were unfledged and barely remember anything about, but the link was there.

She nodded as your conversation concluded and pushed herself off the wall, evidently needing to return to where she came from. “Well, if you need me, you know where to– ah, wait, you don’t.”

Shoko patted down her body, presumably in search of her phone or a notepad, but you reassured her hastily. “No, it’s fine! I do, Gojo showed me around earlier.”

Her head whipped up so quickly, you worried she might have snapped it when you heard it crack. “Oh, god, you already met that idiot?”

The short laugh you let out was undignified. “Yep. He’s very noticeable.”

“You can say that again,” she grumbled. “Please don’t tell me he did something dumb and embarrassed himself, or weirded you out. Don’t pay attention to him, he’s just like that.”

“Well, he said I could stay at his place since the house I got is in…less than favorable condition.”

She stilled on the spot, her brows slowly coming together in a visage of utter confusion. “...What? He said you could stay with him?”

“Is he a murderer?” You questioned, only half joking. “I knew it.”

“No, no, he’s not, he’s just…” She turned her gaze to Granny. “Did you know about this?”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Granny responded.

Your tummy shifted uneasily. “Is…that a bad thing?” You knew Granny said it wasn’t earlier, but you had to ask again.

“No, not really…” Shoko was not easing your nerves whatsoever. “Just unusual.”

“How come?”

She pulled her lips to the side in consideration. “Gojo Satoru is someone who…likes to hide things.”

“Oh, so he is a murderer.”

She demurred at your conclusion. “Last I checked, no. Regardless, he can be kind of a dick sometimes, so don’t take any of his more outlandish shit to heart, yeah?”

You bobbed your head loosely, your mind already off creating heinous conspiracy theories about your benefactor. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Mm, it’s no problem,” she approached you and held out her hand. “Gimme your phone, I’ll give you my number. You can text me if he tries to pull some shit with you.”

Getting a strong sense of déjà vu, you handed her your phone and watched as she punched in her number, then called her phone to get your number as well. Yours was back in your hands in record time, contact set to just her name.

“There. I gotta head off for now, it was nice to meet you, girl,” Shoko waved to you and Granny as she disappeared through the door.

Soft huffing from behind you had you peek at the woman. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Granny appeased. “Just seems you’ve had an eventful first day here, no?”

“No kidding,” you mumbled, pouting when you saw that you had finished your food. She took the empty box from you, pleased by it being practically licked spotless. “Thank you, it was really delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed your meal,” she nodded. She must have put a lot of effort into it.

A thought occurred to you then. “Granny, do you know where I could possibly get a job?”

She raised a brow at you. “You want to work?”

“Well, yeah,” you scratched your cheek. “I’d try to find a job online, or the city, but I don’t really know what kind of work I can get with the first option, and I don’t have a car or anything for the second one.”

Her fingers cupped her chin in consideration. “How about you work here?”

“In your store?”

“Yes,” Wait, that easily? “I could always use more hands here. I’m getting up there in age, and my hands ache often. You’d be helping me a lot.”

“Are you sure…?” You gave her a concerned mien, subconsciously flicking your eyes down to her hands. “I don’t wanna take from you more than I already have.”

Granny merely brushed away your worries. “Nonsense. I could use the company, too.”

Okay, now you were starting to get suspicious. Things were lining up too well.

Well, you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but considered keeping your guard up.

“Alright,” you agreed, if somewhat hesitant. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Granny’s expression was heartwarming. “Wonderful! How about you take a week or so to settle in, then you can come start when you’re ready?”

“Well, I can start sooner. If you need the help anyway.”

“How about a few days?”

Stubborn old lady, you loved her already. “Fine, a few days,” you conceded, soughing. “Thanks again for the food, Granny. And for the job. I should probably get my stuff from my place and bring it to Gojo’s. You’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, dear,” she shooed you away with her fingers. “Go on, now. I’ll see you soon.”

The warm air raised goosebumps up your arms as it swept over you upon leaving. It smelled distinctly sweet, a natural fragrance you quickly became fond of, enjoying it wholly during your walk back home. It had been shorter this time, the transition from defined road to coarse, packed dirt closer to town than you remembered it being.

What you were not fond of was your house, however. Your spite towards those stepping stones leading to the door growing worse as you avoided tripping over them again. The stench upon opening the front door also blew you back, making your entire face scrunch up.

“Why did I do this to myself,” you grumbled as you cynically walked in. Daylight made your perception so much worse. Every flaw was practically highlighted in bright, blaring white.

You mulled over convincing Satoru to just let you live with him and forget this damn thing ever existed to begin with. 

Discovering your luggage where you left it, you cringed. It just kept getting worse. The floor was sticky everywhere. With what? Who knows. Did you want to know? Abso-fucking-lutely not. It took you less than a fraction of a second to decide to abandon your sleeping bag where it was. 

Like hell were you going to peel it off the tacky wood, let alone use it again. Not like you needed to if you had somewhere to stay anyway, right?

Since when did you become such a wastrel?

Ugh.

With a shake of your head, you rescued your suitcase and luggage bag, letting them feel the same fresh air you could. It was the little things in life that made you so grateful for this pristine oxygen. And the bigger things in life that made you extra grateful, like Gojo Satoru and his stupidly large house. 

Bless him for giving you the opportunity to sleep in an actual bed, rather than suffering in the outdoors. Him being a sneaky skunk notwithstanding.

Welp, here goes nothing. You tapped his contact, then the bubble under it. You were just going to assume he knew who was texting him.

This is the start of your conversation with ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨.

You, 16:24

Yo

Got my stuff

Alright, now you just wai–

✨❤️Satoru❤️✨, 16:24

(＾▽＾)

give it 10

The fuck.

Emoticon aside, the instant reply caught you off guard. Didn’t he say he had things to do? The day was just full of wonders, huh?

Ten minutes went by fast when you pulled up some random bad fanfiction to scroll through mindlessly. Your attention was drawn away from the half-written mess when a black sedan rolled up in front of your property, and you whistled low. 

Why the hell was a rich boy like Satoru living in the sticks and not in some penthouse in the middle of Tokyo?

A spindly figure climbed out and bowed at you politely, hands clasped together in front of him. His voice was wispy, light and reserved. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. My name is Ijichi Kiyotaka, Gojo-san requested I bring you to his residence.”

Ah, he seemed so nervous. Poor guy.

You nodded, choosing not to comment on it. You were intimate with the feeling and didn’t like others pointing it out, you figured he wouldn’t, either. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

He shook his head as he popped the trunk and helped you tuck away your luggage. “It’s no trouble at all. Though, admittedly, it is nice to not have to drive far out this time.”

“Oh?” You questioned as he opened the back door for you and oh, my, were those leather seats? The car was lavish both inside and out, and probably cost more than you and your shoddy lil’ shack combined. You waited until he got into the driver’s seat, taking the extra few seconds to admire the car that you definitely should not have been in as it was clearly too high class for you, before continuing. “Do you usually have to drive to the city?”

“Yes,” Ijichi confirmed, starting up the car with a smooth purr that you barely heard. Leave it to the wealthy to find the best of the best in any category, uncaring of prices. “I’m normally just a chauffeur for the Gojo household.”

You bobbed your head in understanding, peering out of the tinted window to watch everything move by. The traditional architecture was beautiful, something you admired. It made your house stick out a bit like a sore thumb, considering the more western design; you pondered why it was built like that.

The twisting road leading up the mountainside began and ended all too soon, the whole trip lasting less than 5 minutes total, your destination completed with Ijichi parking outside of the mansion.

Ever the gentleman (though, he might have been resolute in helping you with your belongings directly due to fear of some kind of punishment looming over his head), he took your things and led you into the house. “This way, please. I’ve already set up your room for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you murmured, taking this chance to gawk at everything more properly. Frankly, it smelled rich inside, you didn’t want to think about how expensive even just the vase on the coffee table was.

The sliding of a door signaled your journey’s end. Ijichi bowed and ushered you inside first, though you kind of wished he went in before you, because you were positively floored and most definitely seemed like an idiot with your jaw hanging open. What the fuck? Satoru said this was a spare room? You were expecting maybe, oh, I don’t know, normal guest room things?

Not the epitome of a deluxe hotel for fuck’s sake. The room was at least twice the size of the one you slept in yesterday, the bed was glamorous (queen size, too, Christ), the bedding laid so nicely that you debated sleeping on the ground a second time, just to avoid messing it up. Especially because the fluffy rug at the foot of the frame was so downy, you wanted to drown in it. 

There’s no way this was real. Someone had to have been playing a joke on you. You spun to watch Ijichi as he carefully set your suitcase and bag against the wall by the door, waiting for him to rip the proverbial, and likely not fluffy, rug from under your feet.

Instead, he bowed once more, eyes closed. “Should you need anything, you may call for me. The restroom and bathroom are on the right when you exit. Please, feel free to bathe, if you wish. Make yourself at home. Gojo-san is out right now, but will be back by evening.”

You barely stuttered out a semi-coherent thank-you as he left, sliding the door shut behind him and leaving you in this splendor.

Surely this was a joke. You dreaded the inevitable turn, expected the door to open to a cackling Gojo Satoru as he wheezed his lungs out and pulled some ‘I can’t believe you fell for it!’ bullshit.

But it didn’t happen. 

For however long you stood there, staring holes through the closed entrance, nobody came to reveal this was all an elaborate joke, with you playing the unsuspecting and dumb victim. You laggardly let out the breath you had been holding and poked around the room with cautious hope. It really was spectacular, but you truly wondered how long Gojo would let you stay here.

By the gods, you were tired of thinking, though, and a shower would be heavenly. You could worry about everything after you were scrubbed dirt-free.

…Assuming you wouldn’t get jumped in the shower instead of the bedroom.

“You’re being paranoid,” you scolded yourself under your breath as you opened your suitcase to grab a change of clothes. But, really, could anyone blame you? You were sure someone else would have felt the exact same way you did.

Unless they were a professional freeloader or something.

Your soap and tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner were so sad compared to everything else around you. You should have checked if Granny’s store had any bath products.

The bathroom was just as luxurious and fully stocked as everything else in this damn estate. Dark, rich wood encompassed the room; a sink was to your left with a sparkling mirror above it, an open shower to your right towards the back, and the chef-d’œuvre of it all: the sunken bathtub at the end. A frosted glass window was situated behind it, shades partially lowered to allow natural light in through the bottom.

Fuck, you were so out of your depth.

But were you going to deny enjoying such riches at least once in your life? Hell no.

You turned to set your stuff down on the counter space by the sink, glancing towards the row of very expensive bottles of different types of cleansers lined up against the wall, and the note in front of them. 

Grasping it, you saw it had your name on it, written by hand. You flipped it over to see the short message left behind.

These are yours, use them as you please

~Satoru ♥

Ohoho, fancy products you could only ever scowl at forlornly at the store whenever you saw them, fantasizing about using them, though ultimately being shunned by the price tag? Fuck feeling apprehensive, you were damn well going to use those and indulge in feeling and smelling like a queen.

You’d never stripped faster in your life. You barely had half a mind to fold your clothes somewhat neatly and set them on the counter, rather than scattering them all across the floor as you stumbled out of your socks and hopped to the shower on one foot. 

Even the millions of knobs and stall-less design couldn’t deter your avidity, each one subjected to random twisting until you figured it out.

As soon as the bottles were on the recessed shelf under the showerhead, you loped under the hot water and groaned, planting your forehead against the cool wall whilst it poured down your back. You practically turned into putty, all your sore and tense muscles unwinding noticeably. The shower pointed out exactly how sleeping on the floor in your own house jacked up every part of your body, because ow. 

You honestly believed you could stand there forever, reluctant to leave, but that bathtub was calling to you.

So you grabbed the body wash first and flipped it over to read the label.

Oatmeal and almonds. Mmmh sweet fuck, you could dissolve into a puddle. It smelled heavenly, and you were giddy out of your skin knowing you were about to smell like that, too. It felt so silky-smooth on your palm, the perfume automatically coating you as you rubbed it in and savored the sensation. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go back to normal, poor-person soap without lamenting the loss of this.

You can’t miss what you don’t know, and boy were you going to miss this if you had to leave it behind. Satoru did say it was yours to use and keep, though, didn’t he? Maybe you could yoink them when your place was all fixed up and you had to leave.

Suds coated your body in a thick layer of iridescent, white bubbles, flowing down the planes and curves of your figure with the water, rinsing every bit of your body to superb asepsis. Your hair had never known such extravagance when your fingers glided right through your locks, leaving them soft and addicting to touch. You understood now how Satoru’s was that fluffy.

You wanted to touch his hair, too.

Shaking your head to shoo away any very wholesome thoughts, you squeezed the excess water from your hair and turned off the shower, shivering at the sudden chill now that the perpetually toasty mist wasn’t surrounding you anymore.

Careful to avoid slipping, you tip-toed over to the tub and knelt down beside it, reaching for the handles. Hot water burst forth from the tap, rushing to fill the basin, and you noted how deep it was, contemplating if your knees would peek out from the surface if you sat with them bent. You had to be extra vigilant to prevent falling asleep in it and drowning.

You could drown after you got to take a dip in the hot spring in the backyard. Of course, you’d prefer not having to drown at all, but if you had to choose, you’d opt for the hot spring.

Daydreams of swimming in it played behind your eyes as you sank into the tub with a delighted sigh. What tranquility, lucking out like this. You didn’t know what god to thank, if any, but you’d happily grovel on your hands and knees to show your immense gratitude. Just getting a chance to live (well, bathe) in splendor for a single day was enough to fulfill some innate, deep desire you had inside.

Now that you had a moment away from the hectic day, you let yourself recount everything that happened, and question how the hell you got here.

Not 24 hours ago, you had arrived, a poor fool that nearly kicked the bucket on your own front porch, and since then, you were sort of adopted by a grandmother that fed you instead of throwing her shoe at you, met an eccentric, wealthy man who took after a deity ripped straight from mythos, and landed yourself not only a place to stay, but a place with said deity.

“What the hell…” You mumbled to yourself as you lowered yourself until only your eyes remained above the water, blowing bubbles. 

How did you get here?

Was this some sort of punishment? Give you a taste of the blest, then wrench it away from you? Karmic cruel and unusual castigation?

You grumbled underwater and lifted your head back up to breathe. Of course, you couldn’t help being paranoid, all of this was way too good to be true. Like some sort of game show–

Oh, god–

You sat up pin-straight and covered your chest, scanning the bathroom ceiling and walls for any hidden cameras. You scoured every surface, squinting extra hard to spot potential blinking lights or unusually-reflective circles.

Nada.

You went boneless, lounging against the back of the tub as you exhaled heavily.

You had probably been in the bath too long. Your fingers were starting to get pruny, and your brain all jumbled up with anxiety and skepticism.

Sluggishly, you pulled yourself out and dried off while the tub drained, pulling on your clean clothes with a relieved hum. You couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself like this, if ever. 

You heard someone speaking from beyond the hallway, so after dropping off your old clothes in your room, you ventured out through the living room, where you found none other than your savior, chatting away with someone on the phone. He turned to you and instantly lit up.

“Ha-hey!” Satoru grinned and waved you over after quickly ending his call, laughing through his greeting. “You got here safe?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving to sit beside him at the kitchen island. “Ijichi-san is good at his job.”

The towheaded boy snickered. “Good, or else I would have flicked his forehead.”

“So, you’re the reason he looks so anxious all the time,” you scolded him, then apologized. “Sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to drag you out of your conversation.”

“Bah,” he brushed it off. “No big deal, wasn’t anything important. So, settling in okay? Seems you already got familiar with the soaps ‘n’ stuff I got you, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, lifting your arm to sniff at your wrist. “They smell so good, where did you get them?”

He planted his chin on his palm. “Nowhere you can afford.”

Your eyes narrowed into a sharp, unamused glare. “Wow, thanks.”

His cheeks crinkled his hues, and you realized he was still wearing his shades indoors. The glare of the sun no longer turned them into mirrors, allowing you to partially see through them, but the deep ocean hue of the lenses prevented you from deciphering the exact color of his irises.

What an abnormal choice of glasses. You knew people wore circular shades – they made them for a reason – but all the people you’d seen wearing them could never pull off the style.

Satoru was different, though. They suited him flawlessly; refined and dignified, yet boyish at the same time, just like the bearer.

“Let me know when you run out,” he said. “I’ll get you more.”

You jolted in surprise. “Oh! No, no, it’s fine! I’d feel bad using them all up, I don’t want to imagine the price tag…”

He pouted at you. “Why? You saw the note I left you, didn’t you? They’re yours, I got them specifically so you could use them.”

You worried your bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t do anything I’m not sure of.”

Well, that’s all you needed to concede. “Alright. Thank you, I like them a lot.”

His moue instantly turned into a brilliant, cheek-aching smile. “I’m glad! Had me worried I picked the wrong stuff.”

His giddiness was contagious, making you giggle. “No! Not at all, I’m just– I’ve never seen the brand before.” It being a Japanese brand notwithstanding.

“Well, duh,” he rolled his eyes as he hopped off his stool and sauntered over to the fridge. “They don’t sell this kind of stuff in normal stores.”

“Where’d you get them from, then?”

“Made Ijichi fetch ‘em.”

You sighed heavily. “Poor guy. You work him to the bone, don’t you?”

He humphed as he withdrew something from the fridge – bento boxes, you recognized. He placed one down in front of you, and took his spot at the island back. “He’s fine. Gets paid well. It’s not like I make him go to the city for every little whim I have.”

You huffed as you pulled off the lid to your box, your mouth instantly salivating at the food within. You barely had the conscious thought left to clap your hands and murmur ‘itadakimasu’, as well as mentally slap yourself when you recalled that you had forgotten to do the same with Granny. 

You were able to restrain the moan of delight this time, unlike in front of the old lady, but damn was it hard to.

“Fuck…”

Gojo cackled beside you. “It’s good, I know.”

“Who made this?” You questioned, hand covering your mouth as you chewed. Ijichi must have been a good chef, too.

The man gave you a cocky smirk. “I did.”

…Hah?

You regarded him flatly, disbelieving. “Funny.”

“I’m serious!” He glowered.  “Is it so hard to believe I can cook?”

“A little,” you confessed around a bite of sausage. “Rich boys don’t usually know how to cook.”

His gaze pierced directly through you, brooding as he stuffed his mouth. “I’m never gonna cook for you again, just for that.”

Oh, so he was gonna do that? 

Hm, might as well play along.

You set down your chopsticks and turned to face him, slapping your hands together as you lowered your head to beseech his mercy. “Please, O’ Honored One, Gojo Satoru-sama! Forgive this witch her foolish words!”

He lifted his chin, judging you through his round shades with the pretense of a king adjudicating his subject’s worth. A few seconds passed before he nodded in approval. “Better. You’re forgiven.”

“Yay,” you laughed, immediately going back to eating. “It is really good though, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he responded, virtually inhaling his serving – not that you were any better.

“Where’d you learn how to cook?”

He swallowed and paused, speaking a fraction softer. “My mom taught me.”

Maybe a touchy subject. You noted it as something to not approach, instead choosing to compliment them both. “She taught you well.”

The boxes were empty in the blink of an eye, and you were both saying ‘gochisousama’ with a satisfying puff.

He grabbed the chopsticks and both boxes, placing them in the sink and filling them with water. “So you did research Japan a bit, eh? Knowing our customs.”

“I believe it comes with the territory of learning the language, yes,” you hopped off the stool, reclining against the counter. You winced minutely when your spine popped.

“How long have you been speaking Japanese?”

“Ehh,” you tilted your hand diagonally a few times. “I learned it a while back. I was studying abroad at the time. Didn’t really know it’d come in handy now, though.”

He dried off his hands with the hand towel nearby and cocked his head to the side. “Oh? You weren’t planning to move here?”

“Not…really,” you shrugged and rubbed the back of your neck. You had to tip-toe this line of conversation carefully.

He grinned, leaning forward to meet your gaze head-on as if he had just hit some sort of jackpot. “So you are running from something after all.” Fuck. “Well? What is it? Mafia?” No. “Loan sharks?” No. “Robbed somethin’ big?” No. “Exes?”

…Sort of.

“Let’s go with exes.”

“You’re quite the mysterious woman,” he chuckled low, voice taking on an evil little rasp. “Makes me wanna open you up.”

You batted your eyes, your brain lagging as your cheeks heated up because what the fuck, real men weren’t supposed to be this hot, and you were not supposed to be this asthenic in the knees just because he had a handsome face and an absurdly attractive voice that decided to say the most deviant shit.

“And you’re a terrible, terrible man, Gojo Satoru,” you admonished to cover your nonplussed emotions. 

“Mhm, mhm,” he nodded in complete agreement. “I’m a terrible, terrible man that decided to take you in out of the goodness of my heart.”

You sighed. “You’re going to use that against me, aren’t you.”

“Absolutely, I’m never letting you live this down.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, earning yourself a smirk hidden poorly behind an offended scoff. An oddly domestic sentiment perched in your center, just beneath your breastbone. A decent meal and the slow end to an intense day had you yawning behind the back of your hand. 

He yawned after you, the action infectious, and moped like a kid that wasn’t ready to go to bed.

The emotional weight of everything was coming down on you, and you craved for nothing more than to pass the fuck out under those incredibly plush and cozy looking blankets.

“Think that’s our cue,” you grumbled and rubbed the corner of your eye with your knuckle. “Or mine, anyway. I’m ready to conk out and sleep for, like, a century.”

He chuckled lazily, the noise husky and low. It wasn’t particularly late, no, but you felt like you’d been struck with a bus filled with mental and physical tax collected over a great deal of time. He waved you off, turning to strut down the hall opposite of the one you came through, and left you with a still cheery farewell.

Finally.

You well-nigh sprinted back to your room to nab your toiletries and sped through your simple nightly routine, impatient and antsy to dive into that queen-sized mattress. It’s not that you disliked Gojo’s company, quite the opposite, actually, but you were tired.

Usually, you tried to put off sleep until your body gave out in the early hours before morning, uncaring for the dreams that inevitably spawned, no matter how little or how much sleep you got.

But now?

Those sheets were hailing you.

You couldn’t brush your teeth quick enough. Your face was practically still damp with your moisturizer as you dived under the duvet and keened. You’d never known such opulence in your life.

Your legs kicked with glee as you snuggled in, squeaking and curling on your side and clutching the fabric of the blanket tightly in your hands to ensure it went nowhere while you pranced around in dreamland. Heaven. Pure and simple. Heaven with the fragrance of new pin laundry and your body wash, that held your head on the coziest lap, that hugged your form and incontinently coaxed you under the waves of hypnotic slumbering.

Comfort surrounded you. The mattress underneath you was the ideal level of firmness, the blankets were warm without being overbearingly hot, and being in such a neat environment swiftly lulled you into a far easier and more satisfying sleep than you’ve had in a long time.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

[harlequinoccult]

thank you for explaining the caustic personality!! honestly Vulpine might as well have caustic as his main w apathetic tendencies instead, ig ill find out when the demo is updated XD both personality types fit him too well. honestly he's not that aggressive as a person, he's actually mostly quite polite, but he does have a tendency to stare. the ones who really get to see his aggressive side are the people he dislikes (Host better fucking prepare himself-)

well i figured i'd just finish what i started, and continue on my never-ending ramble. usually i like making Ariel an orphan, it's a bit of a callback to his roots and it fits him, but this time i think the second option i usually go for him fits best: single child of a single mother. she's the only family he has that he knows of, a very loving, religious and hard working lady who was shunned from the community for getting pregnant out of wedlock. the very first fights Ari would get into in his childhood were against kids who would say some unsavory shit abt his mom. having a mother who was blindly dedicated to the same church that constantly made her suffer for the mistake of having a kid without a husband also played a very big part into Ariel becoming an atheist and rebelling against the church in his teen years.

she was p absent as a parent, having to work p much the whole day to be able to support them both, but she tried her best the moments when she was present, and Ari recognizes that and loves her dearly. he started stealing things and got his first job quite young to try to help her pay the bills.

he got arrested when he was around 18 yo, probably getting caught on one of his "heists", trying to steal from the richer houses around, and he hasn't seen her since then. his time in prison was... bad. really fucking bad. the worst, lowest point of his life, in fact.

i have no idea how the legal system works in england and i have no desire to learn, but for what's worth he is caught trying to escape at least once, and spends 2 miserable years in there until he finally manages to leave.

did he actually complete his sentence? lol. lmao.

no. no he didn't. be it by a month, a year, a day, the important thing is he didn't.

is Ariel Fox even his real name? i doubt it. that would be stupid wouldn't it, illegally immigrating to a different country after escaping from prison and using your real ass name to do it, he's smarter than that.

fun fact abt Ari: he does not want to go back to prison. he'll kill himself before they have the chance to catch him.

on a... "unrelated" note, the reason why Carter managed to wrap such a tight leash on Ariel is bc he learned smth he shouldn't have and he's holding that little secret right over his head. im sure you can't possibly guess what he found out that would make Ariel put up w his shit the way he did-

so the fact that Ari ends up in this city (i forgor the name and i can't leave the askbox to check or ill lose everything i typed 😭) is honestly not rlly much of a surprise, nor is the fact that he's p much alone despite living there for years. he's always been a bit of an outcast, a loner, someone who avoids people on purpose. he hasn't seen his mom since he left england, but he looks her up every once in a while. debates whether he should call her. decides it's for the best that he doesn't.

he starts over. new life, new me, or whatever the hell people say. starts off already with shifty connections, he needs a fake identity and a fake birth certificate and a fake everything if he has any hope of passing by unscathed, after all. needs to lay low. not call too much attention. be a nobody. wait until things calm down a bit.

he stays at least a year living like that, settling in, subduing his accent until he can pass it off as having learned it from a family member or some other bullshit. applies for university. becomes just another american college student.

meets someone.

falls in love.

has them taken from him. has his entire life destroyed. again. needs to try to pick himself up. again. is struck with such crippling grief unlike anything he has ever felt before. it's almost as bad as the two worst years of his life.

almost.

he's never letting anything like that happen to him ever again.

anyway! as mentioned before, he was working on getting a doctorate when Carter came along, and he sort of had to drop out after that, to the dismay of his teachers. what was he getting a doctorate on? honestly p much anything would be in-character for Ariel, he's an everything nerd, from language to history to engineering to biology that man wants to know quite literally everything the world has to offer him. his infodumps are the most complete and varied possible, he's a walking talking encyclopedia.

he's an extremely paranoid person who overthinks everything including his own overthinking and really, if nothing else here's to hoping that OD can at least teach him to loosen up a bit-

he never enjoyed doing drugs very much, despite partaking in them quite often in his youth. he's way more likely to experience a bad trip than a good one, so he learned to stay away from them as much as possible, but alcohol and nicotine were a completely different story. he's still addicted to nicotine to this day, the one drug he allows himself to never let go. he was an alcoholic through a big chunk of his life, until someone did Very Bad Things to him when he was too drunk to be able to fight back. that experience just flipped a switch inside of him, it broke him badly enough to make him promise himself to never touch another drop of alcohol in his life, a promise he did very well by until Carter killed his beloved and he had the worst relapse of his life. he's back to being a straight edge now tho, its fine! its not fine

he has immense distaste for the cops of the city, but part of him is kinda grateful that they're so bad at their job or else he would be Fucked. he absolutely despised doing work for Carter, even after he became so numb to it all it made him want to tear his own heart out just to make sure it was still beating. i cannot stress enough how much he suffered inside at the start, part of the reason he started drinking again was to try to ignore how much all of it hurt. at least he could try to make sure Carter didn’t kill innocents. he couldn't really be sure every time, but he tried. he really did.

he probably tried killing Carter at least once. or thought abt it, at the very least. made plans. had it all figured out in his head, down to the last detail, how he would do it and get away with it. ngl, he was probably on the verge of putting it into action when Host sent him that email and just gave him the perfect chance to do it just like that-

as a killer, Vulpine is very much the stealthy type, hiding in the shadows, walking withouth making a sound. if its a group, he'll pick them off one by one, until someone notices and all hell breaks loose or until all of them are dead. if he's forced to kill someone he doesn't think deserves it, he's merciful. very quick, clean deaths, going straight for the vitals, almost painless. if it's someone he thinks deserves to suffer, however... well, he's always been curious to know what a human vivisection would look like.

truth is, he's a sadist. well, a sadomasochist really, but he gets off on making people suffer, and he hates it. he especially hates the fact that hurting the person he loves is such a tantalizing thought. marking them blue and black, covering them in red, it's not really his fault blood is such a beautiful thing, is it? and if his lover wants to do the same to him, well, he's more than happy to oblige. anything for his love. except bondage. getting tied up/held down is actually a pretty bad trigger for him, he hates it, no matter the context

ok well i think that's everything! thanks for indulging me!!

-🦊

The ask is somewhere around here, i know it, but with caustic mcs, Carter assumed they were all bark and no bite. Fitting, i think.

And, given everything, OD is a fitting match, they like learning and they are smart -in their own way- the drugs and partying is for themselves, they aren't the type to pressure people into drugs, in fact, they can and will tell you about the various side effects of any given drug because they think its legitimately interesting.

[happy-tori-friends]

fate (khloe aliapoh ffxiv and rng) has decreed that i must post a preview of that self indulgent crossover with my silly omegaverse original work. one may notice some similarities to rwby (team names being acronyms, kemonomimis being called creatura (which are just bootleg faunus). this is because it was very heavily inspired by rwby (well an rp that was a crossover with rwby and something else). really, is it an original work if it's a bunch of things i went 'wow cool. im gonna take inspiration from this' and then. made a patchwork quilt. this is only a fraction of what is planned. before the story there will be some notes that may help you to understand

here is information about bloody war (fun fact: this title is stupid. i dont even know if there will be a war) that may be helpful for this section.

everyone has two blood colors - a main and a secondary, which is marble into it. this gives them cool powers.

the guardians of blood are this cool organization that defeats teros (aka bootleg grimm). you must be 13 or older to enroll in one four academies, but the most common age range is 17-20 (minors also need their guardians permission). usually, training takes two years but ti can take longer if one fails exams. once you have graduated, you are free to move to base on sanguine island (it comes with free housing.) for some reason you can then become a professor and teach shit (i didn't think this through tbh)

frost's guidance is in kaldsne, forest's illumination is in luctis, sea's sanctuary is on the gemsea isles, and night's shadow is in kagayatsuki. there are more countries than that but those are the four with training academies (the others got destroyed).

yes there's a white fang rip off it's called the ichor of the wild it might not come into play at all but... i really wasn't original at fucking all lmao.

theres also maiden rip offs. their the seasonal monarchs. their secondary color is a type of gold. but they dont come into play here right now. (except for the fact that miaki and hibiki are the fall princess and fall guardian. but they are only mentioned. whats a guardian. wait and see. why is princess and not queen. dont ask questions past me is stupid)

omegaverse but i make my own rules (i did Not mention it at all in this part tho). this was supposed to be fucking smut guys. it was supposed to be smut and then my stupid idiot dumb ass decided 'WaHt iF I WeNt tHrOuGh eVeRyThInG FrOm fIrSt mEeTiNg tO PoSt-gRaDuAtIoN WhEn tHe pOrN TaKeS PlAcE' like a moron and now here i am. still haven't written anything nsfw. the entire point of this bullshit.

@guardians-of-blood is the account for bloody war. it is on ao3 on my main pseud (AnemoVictorious)

splendont's from the gemsea isles. lifty and shifty were from luctis but stowed away on a ship to kagayatsuki and got taken in by a farmer.

team sfre = sapphire

this is stupid really stupid but it's my self indulgent heathen bullshit

okay i think that's good enough.

Two years ago, Splendid decided to attend Frost's Guidance Academy, where he became one of two leaders of Team SFRE, the other being his future boyfriend, Flippy Blair. At that point, Splendont was content with where he was and, though his abilities could be useful in combat, he didn't really think it was for him.

And yet here he was, a new student at Night's Shadow Academy. Older than most of the other new recruits at 23 years old, but he didn't really care about that. It wasn't even a big epiphany he had that made him decide to do it, he just wanted a  change of pace and scenery.

Kagayatsuki was nice enough - the weather was more mild compared to the hot summers of the Gemsea Isles, and despite being in the capital city of Yoruhoshi, the light pollution was surprisingly not that bad. He'd looked at them through the window, but tonight he wasn't all too tired. If he snuck out at night back home, his parents would scold him even if he was a grown man, but here nobody really cared.

There wasn't likely to be anyone else out this late at night either, so he made his way to the rooftop, the lighter and pack of cigarettes within his pocket just begging to be used. He didn't do it often, especially because his parents and Splendid frowned upon it, but sometimes he would smoke, just to have something to do. He didn't have an addiction by any means, it was usually only one or two every few months but it was sort of comforting to do something considered taboo.

He opened the door, already grabbing one cigarette and the lighter from his pocket as he left the building and saw the expanse of the sky over the rooftop. 

“Shit!” He heard a voice say. “I told you we should get off campus.”

“If we go off campus, we're more likely to get ID'd,” another, very similar voice, responded. Maybe a bit higher pitched. “Does it matter though? You forgot the lighter.”

“How'd we get ‘em in the first place? That's right. Fake IDs. Believable enough to get us cigarettes.” The first voice responded, clearly a bit agitated.

Once again his super-hearing caused him to hear things he didn't intend to. If only power limiters could limit specific aspects of one's ability, but alas. They limited everything. No getting around it if he wanted to use other aspects of his blood's ability.

It seemed these two were underaged and trying to smoke. Splendont didn't care - he, too, had done such things in the past, and had gotten caught. He turned towards the voices, and found two raccoon creatura  with messy green hair. One wore a hoodie, and the other a fedora and a bomber jacket. They both had similar shoes and ripped jeans, and the fedora-wearing one seemed to be irritated. From the back, they looked to be basically identical, save for clothing. Twins, maybe?

Well, it wasn't hurting anyone other than them, was it? Splendont approached, lighting his own cigarette as he did so. He then held out the lighter to them. “Here. I'm feeling nice right now, I'll let you borrow this for a second.”

The two turned to face him, and he saw their faces were basically identical too. Definitely twins. Their eyes were a brilliant golden color, which widened, and then narrowed, though the one with the fedora took it, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it before tossing it to his brother, who barely caught it and did the same, before gingerly handing it back to Splendont, though hesitating slightly.

“Thanks,” the hatless one, the second voice he'd heard, muttered, and Splendont nodded, taking a drag of his own cigarette and walking away, settling not that far from them.

Maybe he was curious about what they had to say, and maybe his super-hearing had a use when he wanted gossip or something like that. He tried to seem like he wasn't listening in, at least for a while, curious about what they'd say.

“You could've pocketed that,” the voice belonging to the fedora-wearing man spoke.

“Why bother? It's just a lighter. And we promised we'd try and stop.” The other responded, and Splendont raised an eyebrow, looking over at them

The fedora wearing one let out a snort. “Hah! Lifty, do you really think that Miaki and Hibiki would know, let alone their dad?”

So it seemed the hatless one was Lifty. Considering the weird names in his family, including Splendid's boyfriend, he wasn't too surprised at the oddity of the name. He did recognize the two that were mentioned - members of the first team formed in the year. They had different last names though. Maybe divorced parents.

“Shifty, he's staring. I think he can hear us,” Lifty murmured, giving Splendont another name.

Whoops. Oh well.

The redhead snorted, deciding to pipe in now that they were aware. “Duh. I gave you a lighter when you were whispering about needing one. It was kind of obvious, wasn't it?” he hummed, making his way closer to the two. “Not that I care what you do, though. I got grounded and chewed out for doing something similar, but I'm not going to pass on that pain to you.” He approached the one with the hat - Shifty, and extended a hand and offered an introduction. “Splendont Astra. You could say I'm a little late to the Guardians party ‘cause I'm 23, but I don't regret it.”

The other's eyes were narrowed as he took the hand and shook it, and they remained staring at him even as he did the some for his brother. “Shifty Steele. That's my stupid brother Lifty.”

“Hey!” Lifty protested as he pulled his hand away, punching Shifty in the shoulder before taking a drag of his cigarette. He seemed much more open than the other, but distrust was still evident on his face. “So… do you need something?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Splendid took in another puff smoke. “Eh. Figured I'd talk to some kindred souls. Smoke together awhile. Better than doing it alone. And if anyone comes up here, I'll take the fall.”

“Cool. A scapegoat,” Shifty murmured, “Can't really say no to that.” It was clear he wasn't all too interested, but was allowing it nonetheless.

His brother, however, looked him up and down a few times before offering a hesitant smile. “Well, we were told we should make friends,” he let out a sheepish laugh before turning to his brother. “And before you say ‘how are they going to know’, if we just keep trailing behind them or hanging out by ourselves, Miaki and Hibiki are going to realize we haven't made a single friend besides them yet.”

“I'm fine playing the part of someone you befriended,” Splendont chuckled, breathing in the nicotine. “Makes me look better than some guy that always keeps to himself too. You get to fool those two and get a scapegoat for smoking and stuff. Win-win situation.”

Lifty let out another laugh, tail swishing beside him. “Yeah! C'mon, Shifts, don't be a stick in the mud. Splendont seems kinda cool! Maybe… maybe we won't even have to lie to them, and we'll have a real friend.”

“Ugh, you're so annoying. Fine,” Shifty scoffed, shaking his head. “You're such a people pleaser.”

Their conversation continued for a while - mostly talking about how things had been since they arrived at Night's Shadow - how Lifty and Shifty were expecting to be on a team with their friends and got surprised at the first assembly, how their courses were going, and some rumors they'd heard passed around. Eventually, the two could barely keep their eyes open, and Splendont walked them back to the dorms. He made sure to snag their numbers first though.

As Splendont found himself back in bed once more, he couldn't help but smile slightly. Considering that they were likely underaged and he could infer from what he'd overheard that they liked stealing, Splendid would hate these two. He'd just have to leave out details when he told his brother that he'd made some friends.

[whollyjoly]

The Cowboy's Christmas Ball - Killers x Easy Ranch

Where the cayotes come a-howlin' 'round the ranches after dark, And the bluebirds are a-singin' to the lovely "meadow lark"; Where the bighorns are a-grazin' and the lonely plovers call, It was there that I attended "The Cowboys' Christmas Ball."

They had truly outdone themselves, Dick thought.

The barn, which was usually filled with an odd collection of wobbly tables and well-worn armchairs, had been cleaned almost beyond recognition. Lights were strung across every surface, and paper snowflakes hung on twine from the rafters. Where once a moth-eaten couch stood had been transformed into a stage, where Liebgott and his band had set up for the night.

The dartboard had been left in the corner, and a sizeable crowd was watching Buck face off against Shifty - they were the two current leaders in Easy's running tournament, and from the mix of cheers and groans, it sounded like a tight match.

Dick traced his eyes across the crowd, half-consciously taking a mental rollcall of his boys, and smiled softly once he found who he was looking for.

Nix was standing off to the side, a pleased expression on his face as he basked in the joy of his handiwork. There was a glass of eggnog in his hand, and when Dick approached, he raised an eyebrow at it.

"Oh don't worry, this is about eighty percent whiskey."

Dick chuckled and settled next to the man, content to sit back and enjoy this moment.

"It looks great, Lew. I'm glad you put this together."

Nix shrugged, but Dick could see the pleased glint in his eye. "It's nothing the boys didn't deserve. Plus, you should see the parties we used to throw at the ol' Nixon Estate. Puts a shindig like this to shame."

The sour tone Nix had adopted was one Dick may have been accustomed to hearing whenever the man's family was mentioned, but it felt out of place at a party like this, and he wanted nothing more than to smooth it away. Dick reached over and put a hand on Nix's shoulder, squeezing once. The grateful look he received in response radiated a small warmth in Dick's chest, and he smiled in return.

A loud tapping on the microphone drew the men's attention away from each other.

"Hey Hoobler," Muck's voice rang out, "be quiet! The man's trying to speak!"

"Good evening, ladies and gents!" Harry Welsh announced, tipping dangerously over the microphone, "I now present to you our very own Smokey Gordon, with The Night of the Cowboys' Christmas Ball!"

Dick could feel more than hear Nix mutter, "oh, this will be good," and couldn't help a small smile.

Smokey, face slightly flushed from alcohol, waved to the crowd from the make-shift stage, and stepped up to the mic.

"The snow was thick on Christmas day, When a handsome rancher appeared to say, ‘Easy Ranch is just down yonder, If in need of cheer, take a wander.’

Out past where the creek waters flow, ‘Round the bend from where the hayseeds grow, The Cowboys’ there, the story’s told, Have wandering eyes and jokes are bold!"

"He means you, Luz!" Buck called from the corner, unabashed by the shushes and the bird flipped to him by George.

"As you come upon the old barn, You might hear a drunk spinning a yarn, About the group of men that they call Easy, Although only," Smokey paused for a moment, grinning at the crowd, "...most of us, are that sleazy.

Dick couldn’t help but chuckle at the raucous mix of protest and laughing agreement that swelled from the boys, toasting their solo cups as one.

"But hark! A different sound is a buzz, It’s the hollering shout of Jolly Saint Luz! I’m sick of this, he says, I’ve had my fill! Gimme a Philly Bop, led by Wild Ol’ Bill!

And so the country band starts up, All the Cowboys’ raise their cup, Except for our fearless leader, Dick, Who’s too good to laugh when drink makes us sick!

But let me take a moment to be serious, (See, ladies? I can be mysterious!) This family has brought me so much joy, Even with our local grinch, Joe Toye.

We’ve made this our home, and though, I don’t say it much, I hope you know, That I’m honored to have your love, And I want to return it beyond and above.

So here, ol’ Smokey does proclaim, Without an ounce of doubt or shame, We wish to welcome you, one and all, To Easy’s Cowboy Christmas Ball!"

The roar of cheers at Smokey's last line was almost deafening. It was a beautiful sight, Dick thought, to see all his boys laughing and happy. They might have had one heck of a year, but hear they all were, together, on Christmas.

Dick felt a warm hand on the small of his back, and it was easy to lean back into it. He turned to Nix, and caught the man studying his face.

"Everything okay, Lew?"

"Yeah," he responded distractedly. "I just, well, didn't expect this, I guess."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Didn't expect what?"

Nix shrugged. "Being happy."

And well, even without the excuse of mistletoe, Dick couldn't help but kiss him for that.

Merry Christmas from Easy Ranch!

So I was listening to The Killers Christmas album yesterday, when I heard their song The Cowboys' Christmas Ball. And then my fingers slipped, and I made a moodboard. And then my fingers slipped, and I wrote a Smokey-poem for the boys. And then my fingers slipped again, and well, it turned into a small fic!

This is a Christmas present to the BoB fandom as a whole, and to the Kinky Ron Discord Server in particular. Thank you all for being such an amazing group of people, of artists and writers and creators, and for welcoming me and my chaos. I love you all so, so much, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. Have a very, Merry Christmas ❤️🎄

pt 6/? - band of brothers as killers songs, cowboy edition

Tags: @malarkgirlypop @footprintsinthesxnd @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @bloodstainedsaint @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @xxluckystrike @land-sh @ronsparky

photo sources: x x x x x x x x x

[fromcrossroadstoking]

Sisk and the Orphanage

Part 8 of Welcome to the 5061st

This bit is really just Sisk and some cuteness. Because those two things go hand in hand.

Tags: @gottapenny @itisjustmethistime @indigosandviolets @scarecrowmax 

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

September 2nd, 0900

Sisk weaved his way through the crowd of children that had taken over the 5061st.The gaggle of kids had been bused in from the nearby orphanage for inoculations. They had quickly made themselves at home, running between the tents and vehicles and people, giggling in delight, and stealing everyone`s hearts. One kid bumped into Sisk`s leg, dropping the small wooden horse he had been holding. Sisk bent down, picked it up, and handed it back to the kid with a smile. The kid gave him a shy smile and took off running again. Sisk shook his head and continued on to see his two favorite cooks.

September 2nd, 0905

Grant and Talbert were busy busting their asses trying to come up with some kind of special dinner for the 5061st`s tiny guests. As Sisk walked in, the two cooks were bent over a pot, frowning at the lumpy orange mixture inside as Grant stirred it.

"Hey, what`s that supposed to be?" Sisk gestured towards the pot as he jumped up and took a seat on the table.

"Hopefully? Mac and cheese," Grant answered as he turned and looked at Sisk, "And get your ass off the table."

"Why? I`m sure Lieb`s ass has been on here plenty of times."

Sisk`s comment earned a fit of laughter from Talbert and a dirty look from Grant. Sisk smirked as he decided to get to the reason he had come for a visit in the first place.

"Anyway, I`m here with a complaint."

"Oh yeah, and whats that?"

"You're making a special meal for the kids from the orphanage but you never make us special meals. Just potatoes. Over and over. And over."

"They're orphans, Sisk. Least we could do was try to make them some good ol' mac and cheese."

Sisk pouted at that, "Well, I`m an orphan. And a draftee. And shouldn't an orphan draftee get a double special meal?" Sisk gave Grant the best puppy eyes he could.

"Don`t joke about being an orphan. That`s fucked up."

"Ain`t joking."

Grant shot a look at Sisk and then looked over at Talbert questioningly. Talbert nodded in confirmation.

"Fuck, Sisk, sorry. I didn't know."

Sisk shrugged it off. Being an orphan wasn't something he went around bragging about. Not many people on the base knew - just Tab, Lieb, Winters, and now Grant.

"Alright, look, your birthday is coming up in a couple days right? So, Tab and I will make you a double special meal then, ok?"

"If you're going to do it on my birthday, shouldn't it be a triple special meal?"

Grant let out an exasperated sigh, "Alright, it`ll be a triple special meal. Now get your ass off my table and get out of here, will ya?"

September 2nd, 1700

Sisk managed to nab some of the mac and cheese for himself and settled at a table in the far corner of the mess tent. Talbert and Grant had complained that Army cheese didn't melt properly and from the looks of it, they were right. Parts of it were downright watery while other parts had somehow remained lumpy. Sisk frowned and poked at his meal with his fork.

"How ya doin', Skinny?"

Sisk looked up as Father Powers sat down across from him.

"I`m alright, Shifty, how you been?"

Sisk mentally kicked himself at the slip up. He and Shifty had met several years before Shifty took his vows and although he was doing his best to call him by his new title instead of his old nickname, he still messed up from time to time. Shifty never minded and never said a word about it. (Honestly, he really missed everyone calling him Shifty.)

"Oh, I`m doin' quite alright. Bit worried about the kids though. The orphanage has got a real bad leak in the roof now, ya know, real bad. An' I was hopin' you might be able to use your handyman skills an' take a look at it, maybe fix it up. Me an' the kids would really appreciate it if ya could."

Sisk smiled at his old friend and nodded, "No problem."

September 3rd, 0800

Sisk wasn't sure what he expected when he arrived at the orphanage, but it wasn't this. The place was little more than a couple of small rundown buildings. The area around the buildings was mostly dirt and there was a well for water that looked about half a second from falling to pieces.

"Shif - Father, I thought you said just the roof needed fixing?"

"Aw now, don`t go worryin' about the other stuff. It needs a lot more work than just one man can handle. Just need ya to fix the roof an' keep the kids from drownin'." Shifty gave Sisk his signature sweet smile and led him to the nearest building.

September 3rd, 0845

It hardly took long for Sisk to fix the problem. He smiled up at his patch job with pride - he had always been good with his hands and it felt damn good to do something other than work on ambulances and jeeps for once.

Wiping his hand on his pants, he took a look around. From the looks of it, the building could comfortably sleep a family of four, but Sisk counted at least thirteen bedrolls. 

There was also a leaky faucet, dirt floor, broken windows, a door that didn't quite close right, and a whole bunch of other problems he had spotted outside. The place needed work. A lot of it. And Shifty was right, it was way more than one person could handle. 

September 4th, 0730

"Fuck, Sisk, this place is a dump."

"Watch your language around the kids. And that`s why we`re here. We`re gonna fix it up."

"Skinny, we get one day off a week. This is going to take years."

"Guess we better get moving then."

Sisk had forcibly recruited Liebgott, Babe, Lipton, and Talbert for help with the orphanage. After what Sisk saw, he couldn't stop thinking about it and knew that there was no way in good conscience he could leave it like that. And so that was how they had all ended up here on their one day off. Thankfully, Lipton took charge and started assigning jobs before Liebgott and Babe could do anymore whining.

September 4th, 2100

It had taken the five of them all day but the crumbling well, the leaky faucet, the crooked door, and broken windows had all been fixed. They even manged to install a makeshift plywood floor inside the buildings.

There were still walls to patch and a garden to expand. They had also at some point decided that they wanted to put in a basketball hoop and build some bunk beds. But all of that would have to wait until their next day off. Really, it was going to take a few days off before the place looked how they wanted. But by the end of their very long, tiresome day, they were all very much invested in their newfound project.

All the kids lined up, cheered, and waved goodbye as the worn out group climbed back in their jeeps and headed back to the base. Not even Liebgott uttered a single complaint.

September 4th, 2145

"Hey Sisk! Sisk!"

Sisk stopped in his tracks and turned towards the familiar voice shouting at him.

"Yeah?" Sisk mustered the energy to shout back.

"Get your ass over here!"

Letting out a groan, he dragged his feet towards Grant, who was waiting impatiently in the doorway to the kitchen area.

"Took you long off enough. Come on." Grant placed a hand on Sisk`s shoulder and guided him inside.

Sisk`s feet stopped in place when he saw what was on the table in front of him.

"Is that...?"

"Damn right. You`re triple special meal. Happy birthday kid." Grant smiled and patted him on the back.

Sisk couldn't sit down and start eating fast enough.

"This is real steak?!"

"Real steak and real eggs. And real ice cream for dessert." Grant was practically beaming with pride.

"How?! We haven't had real steak or eggs or ice cream since we left the states!"

"I have my ways."

On any other day, Sisk might have tried to pry in to what those ways were but right now he only cared about the food on the plate in front of him.

September 28th, 1300

It had taken a few weeks but the group had finally fixed up the orphanage to their satisfaction.

Liebgott and Babe were currently teaching some of the kids how to play basketball. Talbert was playing tag and Lipton was deeply invested in a game of hide and seek.

Skinny and Shifty sat in the shade of a tree watching the kids (and adults) running around.

"Cant thank you enough for this Skinny. You gone and done somethin' real good here, ya know."

Sisk shrugged, "Wasn't just me."

"No, I reckon not but you got the others here. Ain`t no one here gonna forget what you done."

The two men exchanged a smile and Father Powers patted Skinny on the knee, "Now come on, I think Tab and Babe might be needin' some backup on the court."

Sisk snorted and watched as a herd of children shrieking with laughter attempted to climb Tab and Babe like they were their own personal jungle gyms.

"Yeah, looks like you're right."

Sisk stood up and followed his friend towards the chaos, a smile of genuine happiness on his face. (Who would have thought such a thing was possible in the middle of a war?)

[justdontaskme]

Actual Winners (Ona Batlle x Reader)

A/N: Little bit of writer's block and a rough few weeks but I got something done. I don't love it, but think this might be as good as I can get it. Follow up fic to I Got You. Hope you enjoy!

The nerves currently wracking your body made this day a living nightmare. It was like each move you made was being watched, and it made your skin crawl. You don't know why but you just felt off since the end of practice.

It continued throughout the entire day. While it was normal to be nervous the day before one of the biggest games of your life, it seemed like there was more to it. At dinner, your head was shifty as your leg furiously bounced up and down, gaining Leah's worried attention from her seat next to you. 

Everyone could tell that something was off about you, but none of them knew how to help. 

Just as dinner was about to end, Alessia had come over and shoved her phone into your face. Confused, you grabbed the device from your United teammate. 

The smiling face staring back at you immediately put you in a better mood. 

“Hola, cariño,” your girlfriend grinned when she saw the small upward tick of your lips. “Alessia told me you are sad. Are you okay?”

Hearing her voice literally went straight through your heart. You couldn’t identify why, but you suddenly felt the need to cry. Opening your mouth, you tried to speak but nothing came out. 

“Mi amor?” Ona tried again when you didn’t respond. 

Again, no words came out. You felt a nudge to your side, turning to your best friend who tilted her head towards the door, knowing that you probably needed this conversation with a bit more privacy. 

Nodding your head, you quietly excused yourself, promising Alessia you’d return her phone in a few minutes. Your journey was short, as you couldn’t even make it to your room. Instead, you camped out in the empty stairwell about one floor up from the dining room. 

“I miss you,” you whispered, pouting at the camera. 

Ona’s face softened, and at that moment you really wished you could reach through the camera to touch her soft skin. Seeing her briefly for the quarterfinal game wasn’t enough. You wanted more. 

After the quarterfinal game, Ona had told you she was going to take a short vacation with her brother but promised to be back for your game. Communication was limited during this time. Your schedule was busy with training and whatnot with the team while Ona was always in places with spotty service. 

When she unfortunately missed out on the semifinal against Sweden, you were a little disappointed. The post of her and Mapi holding up England's flag with a message of support was nice, but it wasn't the same as having her there.

“I miss you, too,” Ona replied. “I don’t like being away from you, but I love watching you be great.” 

“But I’m not.”

“Don’t be like that,” Ona pleaded, her head falling onto the pillow next to her. “You are so amazing, mi amor, and I wish you could see that.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re the only one that thinks that.”

“I am not. I promise. So many people look up to you for different reasons and I’m so proud to call you my girlfriend.”

At her words, you felt a sudden burst of emotion, tears falling down your face. You were overcome with love for this girl, your emotions getting the best of you. Ona had immediately started apologizing at the sight of your tears, afraid she had said something to upset you. 

Quickly, you reassured her it was the exact opposite. She always knew how to make you feel ten times lighter. You asked her to stay on the line and detail her trip just so you could hear her voice some more before the eventual goodbyes. 

****

As you stood at the front of the tunnel, the loud cheering literally vibrated throughout your body. The pounding in your ear, the beating of your heart, it made everything feel so real.

If anyone had asked you ten years ago if they thought you'd ever play for your country, let alone represent your home country in a Euro final, you would have called them crazy. Yet, here you were. You closed your eyes and let the sounds of the stadium fill you up. 

"You alright?" Leah asked, taking her last trip up and down the line and checking in with each player. 

The sound of her voice spooked you from your trance. Your best friend fixed you with worried eyes as she saw the trepidation in your eyes. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

"It’s okay,” you quickly reassured you. Your breathing returned to normal as you remembered where you were and what you were about to do. “Is this even real?"

Her eyes brightened as a large smile grew on her face.

"You better believe it, Y/N. We've made it," she clapped her hands against your shoulder, jostling you back and forth a bit to shake out your nerves. 

“Who would have thought that the two of us would be here now?”

"I did," Leah smiled cheekily. 

You shoved her lightly with a roll of your eyes, "Let's win this."

"Don't forget to look good in front of your girlfriend," Leah winked, your answering blush led to her burst of laughter. 

Ever since your phone call with Ona last night, the team had been relentlessly teasing you about your sudden change in mood. Some joked about the dopey smile on your face, others complained about how they hadn’t thought to call Ona earlier. You took all the teasing in stride, proud of having such a beautiful girl who made you feel all warm inside. Now, you just wanted to prove that you could be the girl that Ona saw in you. 

****

The German team was composed and pressing hard. After playing for more than a hundred minutes, your body was about to give up. You could feel the exhaustion creeping in as your legs started to cramp. Slowly, you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. But you had to keep pushing. 

The clock on the jumbotron just kept climbing, and you wished it would just freeze for a second so you could catch your breath. There was barely ten minutes left of the game. The creeping anxiety of having to go to penalties crept up your shoulder. You and your team were determined to keep that from happening. 

Desperately, you turned to where you knew Ona was sitting with your family. Your girlfriend made eye contact, signaling for you to take a deep breath in. Following her instructions, you stood up straight, filling your lungs with air before slowly letting it out. 

The breathing did its job in recentering you. You flashed Ona a smile in thanks and a quick thumbs up before turning your attention back to the game.  

With a corner kick in your team’s favor, you looked back at Leah, telling her you were about to join the fray while she agreed to stay behind. You weren’t necessarily a target in the box, but you were going to jump on any kind of rebound and be ready to send in a cross to one of your teammates. 

Lauren went to take the corner and you all lined up. There was a scuffle in the box as soon as the ball came in, and you waited outside the box anxiously. You watched as Chloe managed to get a foot on the ball, but a German player managed to stick their foot out and deflect it at the last minute.   

Unfortunately for them, the ball had bounced just out of the box in front of you. Feeling as if you had nothing to lose, you ran onto the ball, striking it as it came down on the second bounce. 

You held your breath as everyone watched it sail over every player's head, slipping right past the German keeper who could only get her fingers to brush the edges of the ball, but not enough to stop it. 

For a second, you were completely shocked. The ball hit the back of the net, sealing the win for your team in the first major competition of your life. 

When things started to click into place, you finally snapped out of it. Turning around in your spot, you found all of your teammates running towards you with huge grins on their faces. Seeing Alessia, you immediately started running, jumping into her awaiting arms as she spun the two of you around. 

You felt others jumping onto the two of you from all sides, almost like a standing dog pile. As the pile broke, you felt Leah grab your shoulders shouting how proud she was of you before pressing a kiss to the side of your head and telling you to get back into position. 

As you started to head back, you glanced over to the family section, quickly finding the eyes of the person you loved so much. Instinctively, you pressed a kiss to the tip of your first two fingers before pointing her out in the middle of the crowd. 

Even from your spot on the field, you could see the blush rising on her cheeks as your brother was jostling her shoulders in jest. She blew you a subtle kiss in return, which amped you up for the last few minutes of the game. 

When the final whistle blew, you made eye contact with Leah, crushing her in your arms when you two finally reached one another. Neither of you could really speak at the moment, disbelief and pride coursing through your veins. 

"We did it!" you shouted at each other, happy tears slipping down both of your faces.

Leah eventually passed you off to Lucy who you'd always felt was like an older sister to you. The other defender had rocked you back and forth before the two of you turned to the family section and waved to all your supporters. 

The stadium was buzzing, but all you could focus on was the Spanish defender staring back at you with your jersey from the quarterfinals on her back. 

After the ceremony and lots of celebrating with your teammates, all of you finally made it out to the hotel conference which was closed down specifically for friends and families of the players. 

Weaving in and out of the bodies, you were searching for your family, finally finding them with Leah's family near the back. Your parents engulfed you immediately, congratulating you for everything. Your younger siblings clung to your sides, asking if they could see your medal and the trophy before running off to find their friends. 

And finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you were able to greet your girlfriend, drawing the younger girl into your arms. 

Neither of you said anything, just soaking in the embrace. It had only been a little over a week since you had seen her, but that was long enough for you.

"Congratulations, cariño," Ona said into the side of your neck, pressing a soft kiss just under your ear.

But that didn't satisfy you. Instead, you pulled back enough to see her face before drawing her face to yours and kissing her like you wanted to since you first saw her in the stands with your England jersey on. 

"I love you,” you declared, holding her face in your hands as your eyes explored hers. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Carefully, you removed the medal from around your neck, gently placing it around your girlfriend’s neck. 

“No, no. This is yours,” the Spanish girl tried to return it to you, but you rested your hands on top of hers. 

“I want to share this with you,” you said, pulling her hands away from the gold piece, and lowering them to her sides. “I couldn’t have done this without you. And I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone but you.” 

“Then this is ours,” she said, holding your hand with one of hers as the other travels back up her body until the gold medal was laying in the palm of her hand. 

Her words stirred something in you as it fully pieced everything together in your mind. The two of you were living this life together, and there were still many more memories to share with one another. 

[bogusavathepit]

Where, Oh Where, Did My Dream of Jasper Hale Go?

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. Why did Jasper Hale have to be a Confederate? What point was Meyer trying to do with such information, especially when she refused to go into how Jasper might have related to the goals of the Southern states entering the Civil War?

In my mind, I have an image of Jasper that contrasts the Jasper Meyer presents. I worry how easy it is to admire the character and forget his narrative purpose as we also rewrite the original.

I could have waved my Jasper crush loud and proud, but was first forced to hide under shifty eyes and a troubled soul, then just acknowledge that Jasper was both a racist creation and a racist with no redemption arc. 

This is my lament. And the beginning of why/how I think Jasper’s existence in the series as a character and as a product/device for creative narration is racist in of itself.

After dropping such a bomb, Meyer proceeds to never address it ever again. Bad for several reasons:

From a narrative, story-building standpoint, you only add certain details to a character if we’re going to use that to add some sort of layer to their personality and actions. Jasper being a soldier is fine. Necessary for him to be swept up in Maria’s newborn wars and be chosen by her specifically for those wars. Jasper being an American, fine, cause the Cullens are in that country for most of their development and he had to easily meet Alice. (Even vampires usually keep close to their national origins). Jasper having run away from home to join the army? Fine. Edward was about to do the same and it was a thing young adult men did when wars were expected and more common. 

However, out of all the historical options (Union soldier, Mexican American war, any other South of U.S./post 18th century war), Meyer chooses one of the most unequivocally morally bankrupt positions to have in the course of human history). And after its revelation, we don’t get to know how even if Jasper believed in the subjugation of Black people under white men. Why did he join the Confederacy? If it was to allude to the brainwashing of poor whites by rich planters to get them to be more sympathetic to them instead of the Black folk-- who they practically had much more in common with--and Jasper was one of those very impressionable persons (young and wanting to prove himself. Was his family even poor? The lack of consideration?!!), then why not just show that instead of leaving such pertinent information? It could have made Jasper irredeemable even then...unless you also show how and if he ever changed his sentiments. 

Why are we given so much guesswork?! A fiction/fantasy writer tickles their readers’ fancies, not leave all the psychological and deep historical analyses to them to the point where they’re writing the story!!!

I shouldn’t be making your character for you. And you shouldn’t be pretending to give me something whole when only giving me half. There’s a difference between mystery, suggestiveness and just pretending that the things that everyone already knows exists (racism) don’t exist or don’t have a great weight in influencing people’s decisions and motivations. In Twilight and with the presence of Jasper, all it does is:

create a nonperson (who is Jasper other than an accessory/narrative tool for Edward and Bella’s relationship to survive the newborn invasion? And for Bella to finally get to “know” all the Cullens to prepare her entry?)

create a space for unconfronted or questioned feelings and ideas (Some readers’ first thought reading Jasper’s story--at least those not thinking enough about race: “I know something’s wrong here, but I can’t think of what and but now Jasper seems to have reformed, so I don’t care because I know he’s supposed to bad!”)

diminish the evil, extent, and dominance of white supremacy: ”ooh, look it’s possible that Jasper is to be a better person so I shouldn’t look at his position in racism too closely. Maybe racism isn’t all that bad, or it’s over [Jasper got over it], or maybe racism has an easy solution.”

Maybe one will argue that Meyer really wants us to dislike Jasper (because it’s so obvious that racism and the slave system was bad, stop being so dramatic) just so he provides a foil against Edward, Carlisle, and Emmett. Which is so boring and flat. And misguided. If we imagined Jasper as literally anything apart from the the Confederacy or any “cause“ that was less directly anti-black, then I wouldn’t be so hostile towards the guy. 

Literally, I think that Jasper would have been, if not a “perfect”, morally good person, then a cool mofo. Guy can take three vampires at once apparently, and he has got the scars to prove it! He also has a tormented but determined constancy that I can’t personally help myself swooning from. You could get all of that with any other war, because war is grisly and reveals how far people will go to have power over others, feel powerful, and/or defend themselves. The concessions they make, the sins they commit, and the psychological toll that comes with it all.

So the Confederacy? Why? Why!? 

For the cheap shock value and black-and-white thinking that will get us to think more about Edward x Bella, that’s why. And to avoid any more work/responsibility that comes with showing the repercussions of racism.

And it’s disgusting, because what’s left is racism unaddressed. And of looking deeper into Jasper’s personality and of how Jasper might still be racist and most likely still is.

And it robbed me of a possible, good time.

Fuck you Meyer.

[biggirllifestyle]

Ducks in the pond.

Summary: Being friends from the beginning does get its perks, but it's also such a heartbreaking scene when you’re a background character or so you think.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x OFC(Original Female Character)

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: Small cursing, this got away from me so sorry.

A/N: I found my next victim Chris Evan characters, I’ll do better I swear.

Being surrounded by the elite is not something many can say they have experienced especially if it’s something you have been doing since a very young age when you were not even part of that social group. My mother did not come from a wealthy background, she didn’t come to the country with any knowledge of the language and without a penny in her pocket but thanks to a faithful day where she had met Harlan, he had offered a helping hand for my mother and from there on she became his lived in housekeeper.

The first time I ever met Ransom I couldn’t say that I wasn't tempted to punch him in the face, we were children when we met and everything that came out of his mouth was rude and condescending. Ransom was older than I and I knew he was Harlan's favorite and least favorite grandson, he was a rude snotty kid who used to pull on Megs and I’s pigtails every time he could get away with it.

I didn't know when it started but at some point, Ransom began to follow me around never leaving my side, I think it began the day that I finally gave in to my urges and punched his perfectly handsome face. My mom was mortified when she found out what I had done, Ransom's mother Linda was pissed and had demanded her father to fire my mother as a repercussion for what I had done but instead, he laughed and I had to apologize begrudgingly to him and from then on I had my shadow. That was how it was for the next few years, him following me around until we became inseparable, we were still coming from polar opposite sides of the societal spectrum even if he never treated me any differently from his rich friends.

While he was out partying with his private school friends I was working part-time jobs and doing homework to pay off my tuition, Harlan had offered many times to pay off school as a thank you to my mother's service through the years but I never accepted feeling guilt at his kind offer. There were times when my friendship with Ransom was tested as his rich dick persona would come out and he would sometimes disrespect my lack of social standings when he would hang out with his friends, I always hated that side of ransom because I knew that the words that he said were partially true, we were from different backgrounds his way of living was different from mine where I was dressed from thrift stores and low-grade shopping centers he was dressed to Gucci and Balenciaga but that didn’t seem to matter to him.

The only times that any of those comments bothered me was when it came from Ransom's weekly conquest, they were all beautiful women who seemed to have walked out of a photoshoot they were all thin and beautiful women who just oozed money from their pores if they even had pores since all of them seemed to be flawless. I always wondered what it was that I did for Ransom to be so faithful to our friendship never once did I have to compete with others because, in the end, he would always choose me this was also another reason why his conquest didn’t last long since their cruel remarks on my appearance and social standing was an ending point on the relationship, maybe it was the fact that I was always the one who saved him from doing something stupid like getting kicked out of his family or him ending up killing his grandfather.

Things changed when Ransom left for college he had gotten accepted to Princeton and off he went, our communication was limited since he was always so busy with school and me with my part-time jobs. I had forgone going to college to stay close to my mother and in the process, Harlan had offered me a small position in his publishing company which his son Walt was not too happy about. Everything was going well for me. I was living an adequate life. I had finally moved out and gotten my apartment, my work was going great and I had finally made some great friends.  Ransom seemed to be doing well as he was passing all of his classes, he even became friends with his dorm mate, which he was forced to have if he wanted Linda and Richard to keep paying his tuition.

Everything was going well for both of us. Our friendship was thriving through the long-distance even if I was hiding a deep dark secret from him, the fact that I have been in love with him for a long time now. This has been a raging issue that I had been hiding for such a long time but I never thought of doing anything about it since most of the time I was fine with being his best friend, I relied this to Claire my friend from work after I hanged up on Ransom on our call of the week.

“That is the saddest and dumbest thing that I have ever heard,” Claire said as she sipped on her wine, “and I am saying this with a lot of love but if you don’t feel like it would work between you two maybe you should try to give yourself a chance with someone else.” I turned back towards her as I took out the popcorn from the microwave, she made a shrugging gesture before turning on the tv.

“I am just saying Eric from accounting seems to be interested in going out with you, and hey I haven’t heard anything shifty about him from anybody else.” She browsed through a few movies before finally choosing one. I sat next to her setting down the bowl of popcorn in front of us as we settled down, “I’m just saying we big girls deserve some love so if that means you having to go on a date with a guy just so you could be able to get over your childhood friend, then so be it.”

I couldn’t help but think over what Claire said and I knew she wasn't wrong but a small part of me still wished that maybe Ransom felt just a little of that love that I felt for him but I knew it was probably a far cry, so I gave Claire a nod agreeing for her to set me up with Eric she squealed before reaching for her phone as she started texting someone after a few moments she put her phone down and mine began to go with off, it was Eric I gave a panicked look to Claire who just shrugged I sighed before answering.

“Hi, Eric how can I help you?” I said acting dumb, Claire swatted at my arm but I hit her back focusing on Eric who seemed to be having a conversation of his own.

“Yeah I heard from someone that you wanted to go out, and well I just wanted to know if the upcoming Friday was good for you I know this great Italian place that just opened up we could go after work if that works for you,” I was about to respond but I felt my phone going off again I pulled it away seeing Ransoms name on the screen, I debated on answering before ignoring it and returning with Eric.

“Friday sounds great”

After hanging up with Eric, Claire and I continued our movie before she had to start heading home as soon as she was gone I began to tidy up, after ignoring Ransom's call I thought about my friendship with a man who looked for the very best for his life. At some point, I had silenced my phone in the chance that if Eric were to send me a text I could just use the excuse of not answering, and that is how I had left it as I went to sleep since tomorrow started our winter break so there was nothing I had to worry about so with that thought I went to bed.

When morning came I finally had the chance to finally take a break and just lay in bed, everything was silent no noise whatsoever just the random drive of cars on the street and that was it after a while I finally got myself ready to get out of bed reaching for my phone I noticed that Ransom had called me nine more times leaving enough text messages that I worried that something might have happened. Dialing his phone as I began to get ready just in the chance if I had to rush out at any moment to meet him after the second ring he finally answered.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all night do you know how worried I was,” Ransom said as he began to chastise me, I couldn’t believe he was doing this after we had talked before he started calling me liked a maniac I was about to tell him off and let him know that I didn’t think very highly of his little outburst before he stopped, “Now ducky this is what’s going to happen do you hear me your gonna finish getting ready, put your shoes on and come outside so we can go eat some breakfast do you hear me.”

I huffed out at him but did as he said as I finished getting ready, Ransom always did this ordered me around expecting me to follow his every whim without any form of repercussion from my part but I knew I would never really fight Ransom since all in all I was his only true friend. After finishing getting ready I rushed out of my apartment locking behind me before taking the stairs two at a time I soon as I got to the lobby I couldn’t help but take a small breath the small exertion from my actions after composing myself I walked out seeing Ransom's car, I couldn’t help the giddiness that came over me this would be the first time I would be seeing him after his no show for Thanksgiving so I was very excited to see him again as I got closer to his car ready to greet him excitedly I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t alone.

“Ducky it’s so good to see you I missed your pretty face,” Ransom said as he stepped forward to hug me but a hand stopped him from moving forward as I was left standing awkwardly from where I stepped forward to meet him, his companion stepped forward putting out a slender and manicured hand so I could shake.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Caroline, Ransom's girlfriend, you must be the friend.” The way she said the word friend made me flush entirely it sounded so mocking when it came from her but I ignored it as I gave her a small smile. Ransom was watching our interaction before clapping his hands together, “Right so let's be on our way then.”

He walked over to the driver's side as he got in Caroline opened the passenger door and motioned me to get in first, I couldn’t help but look at her with a questioning look, Ransom seemed to have caught on to what she was trying to do as he motioned towards Caroline, “Caroline maybe you should ride in the back that way I can also have time to catch up with Ducky.”

Caroline huffed and crossed her arms like a child, the words that came out of her mouth made me feel so shameful I wanted the floor to swallow me whole, “I think she can fit in the back if we push the seats all the way forward I mean I wouldn’t mind moving it since I don't take up much space.” Ransom was about to protest against her but I moved forward pushing the seat forward as much as I could so I could squeeze myself through.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it, this might be the only opportunity I might have to feel as if I’m being abducted or something,” I joked as I positioned myself into the tight space of the back, Caroline seemed smug by her win as she got into the passenger seat Ransom turned to look at me as I avoided his gaze as I looked down at my phone he turned back around as he started the car, the drive to the restaurant was quite from Ransom and I’s point Caroline was going off about some friends of her who were currently on a break or something of that sorts.

When we arrived at the dinner I couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm, this was Ransom’s and I’s regular place we used to go to back when we were in high school, I used to work part-time here and sometimes he visited me as I sneaked him fries when I could. Ransom looked back at me with a soft smile I couldn’t help but to return until I heard a scoff Caroline seemed to not like our choice of location and she seemed to want to protest but Ransom ignored it and got out coming to her side as she opened the door for her, that seemed to placate her as she took his hand to get out. I huffed out a little breath as I began the agonizing task of getting out of the car without making too much ruckus where I would be noticed, when I finally got out I noticed that Ransom and Caroline were waiting for me I flushed hard realizing that they saw my struggle but I gave them a small smile before walking in front of them into the dinner.

Louise was at the counter and the moment she saw me she couldn’t help but let out a shout of excitement she called to Adam who was at the grill in the back as they both came forward to greet me, they saw Ransom and the excitement grew they’ve known us for a very long time so of course, they were glad to see him as well. Louise gave us a small shove as we went to our usual seat which was a booth at the back, when I was young I was scared to go anywhere near the booths but the good thing was that the seats here were spacious so there was nothing to worry about, Ransom scooted in but Coraline seemed to hesitate to look disgusted before sitting down at the corner.

“So how’s school? Are you having any problems with your classes, any subject you might be struggling with?” I asked as I moved around the salt and pepper shake, Ransom laughed as he beat an with a tirade of his Lit professor who loved to throw existential questions into the lesson as if that would help them finish their assignments on time, I couldn’t help but laugh at his whining as our server finally came to our table. There seemed to be a small tension coming from Ransom and Caroline but I chose to ignore it as I moved my attention to our server, he seemed to be about our age, and from what I could see he was new since I could sense his small hesitancy as he took our orders, I gave him a small smile as I tried to give him some reassurance of what he was doing.

“Don’t worry about it you’re doing a great job let me tell you when I used to work here back in the day it was hard, to say the least so no pressure and just take it one step at a time,” Tom as his name tag said relaxed as he gave me a cute and flirty smile that made me blush as I sent him a small shy smile as he walked into the kitchen to put our orders in when I turned back to Ransom he seemed to have a frown on his face at our interaction I made a funny face at him as he rolled his eyes before returning to his tirade. Caroline seemed too quiet so I ignored Ransom as I tried to make conversation with her,

“Are you also at Princeton Caroline?” She gave me a look before turning her nose at me.

“Yes I am in school at the moment but it's not like it matters I’m just doing it to pass the time while I inherit the family business,” she said as she moved around the straw in her drink, I gave her a confused look at her words because I couldn’t understand what she meant by “passing the time,” she must have seen my confusion before she gave a huff before continuing, “Daddy is paying for my tuition so I can go but I don't do anything besides hanging out with my friends or taking trips, there’s no point for me to be going to classes if there is no point to it since I’m just going to inherit my family’s estate and wealth.”

I looked at her with a mildly disturbing face at her words, how I wished I had the opportunity she had to go to college but that option was never one to be considered since it was much too expensive to pay off and I didn’t want to accumulate debt when I was trying to help out my mother with her immigration situation so I said nothing, Caroline seemed to have caught on to my reaction because she gave me a scathing look for even looking at her in that way.

Before anything further could be said Ransom butted in to alleviate the tension that had just arisen between Coraline and me, “So Ducky how’s work Uncle Walt said that he was giving you your team to manage Grandad’s new book, how's that going for you?” I gave him a small smile as I began to tell him about the work that we have been doing and how I’ve been getting along well with everyone except an older editor who keeps trying to override my directions every time I make them to the team. Ransom nodded along at that moment Tom came back with our orders setting them up on the table before turning to me with a small smile, “Do you need anything else, anything I could do for you?” I smiled at him as I was about to respond Ransom butted in,

“No, we’re good.” I looked at Ransom with a pissed look at the rude tone he had used on Tom, he didn’t seem to care as he glared him down until he walked away. I was confused by Ransom's attitude I’ve never seen him act this rudely to people without a motive so his change of character made me wonder what was going on with him and if it had to do with the woman who was sitting right across from me poking at her food uninterested to us.

“So you remember Claire?” I asked him as I ignored his previous way of being with our server, Ransom seemed to be focused on his food so he hummed as confirmation, “Well we were talking last night and she set me up with one of our colleagues, and well now I have a date next Friday!” I said excitedly, Ransom began to choke on his food and I panicked as I started pushing his drink closer to him, Caroline had left just a while ago to the restroom and still hadn’t been back, after he had calmed down Ransom looked at me very differently almost as if he was mad at me for what I had said.

“Are you serious do you even know this guy, how could you put yourself in that situation you haven’t dated anyone ever and you think that going out with this guy is your best option,” he stopped himself his hands balled up into a fist on the table, I couldn't help the tears that welled up this was new to me Ransom had never spoken to me like this before never in such a way as if to shame me not when I decided to go to not go to college and not when I told him about my accident from high school.

“Are you that desperate? if you were you could have just told me and I would have shown you a pretty good time.” The shame and mortification that came over me at his words were so great I let a tear slip from my face, Ransom seemed to realize that his words were far too harsh because he reached out to grab my hand I flinched away from him not wanting him to touch me at all, “I want you to take me home, right now Ransom.” He seemed to hesitate before he clenched his jaw before scooting out of the booth he set a few bills on the table and began to walk out I sat there for a few minutes before finally walking after him Louise gave me a wave and I saw Tom give me a smile and a wave until I was out the door.

Ransom was sitting inside the car already waiting for me to go in, I didn’t see Caroline anywhere and I almost went back inside to go get her before Ransom spoke up again, “She already left her friends came and picked her up half an hour ago.” I nodded before getting into the passenger seat, on the drive back to my apartment everything was quiet, only the hum of the car providing sound. After a while we were finally there Ransom parked but didn’t turn off the engine we sat there quietly for a bit before I finally turned to him, “I’ll see you at the Lagoon okay, I think you and I need some time apart to think about what happened,” I paused as I looked away.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you and I want you to give me the chance to grow from those feelings so I feel like this is the best option for me,” I stepped out stopping before looking down at Ransom who was still so stock still, I knew that my words were probably still processing to him but there was no turning back I finally said what I needed to say and I was ready for everything that was coming, “Patito, I need you to understand that no matter what I would choose you over everybody else.” And with that, I shut the door.

My date with Eric had occurred and it was the worst thing I have ever been on, believing that maybe this could be my chance to grow out of my love for Ransom I looked at the bright side but Eric was the worst he was rude and snobby and made comments about my appearance making it seem like I had to give him a thank you for even looking my way and I hated it. Ransom and I hadn’t spoken to each other since the day we went out and I hadn’t been able to think about it, so that night after my date I cried letting out the pent up emotions I had thought about the fact that maybe me falling in love or being loved would be a notion that could never happen.

During my little outburst, I heard my phone going off and without looking I answered it, the other person on the line was quiet before I heard an outburst, “What the hell happen where are you?” I was confused for a second before realizing that it was Ransom on the line, “Did that son of a bitch do something to you tell me where you are before I go kill him.”

I gave a few hiccuped breaths before Ransom calmed down with the softest tone I have ever heard from him, “Look Ducky I just want to make sure if you’re okay? Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you there in a heartbeat.” With that tone I was able to calm myself down as I told him I was at home, he gave a confirmation telling me he would be here soon as he ordered me to drink a glass of water before he hanged up.

Fifteen minutes later and an empty glass I heard knocking at my door when I opened it Ransom dressed in some plain sweats and the sweater I had given him for Christmas last year no matter what he wore he always looked handsome and this time I couldn’t help the tears that dropped. Ransom crowded me as he began to wipe the tears from my face. Here I stood my hair and makeup a mess dressed in the nicest dress that I had as the person I loved wiped my tears off my face.

“Did he do anything to you Ducky? Tell me and I swear that I will find him and kill him with my bare hands if I have to.” I laughed at his words nut I gave him a shake of my head telling him that nothing had happened. Ransom seemed to let out a breath before he moved us to the couch, we sat there in complete silence as Ransom held me close after what seemed like hours even though it was probably minutes I finally calmed down enough that I had stopped crying altogether.

“I called you today because I knew you had your date with that guy, I was mad, at you, at me, at that prick, and at fucking Claire for setting you up,” he took a deep breath before sitting up and pulling me away from him so we could be facing each other, “I thought of your confession and I am sorry for not calling you sooner but there was so much on my mind I have to tell you.”

I looked up at Ransom seeing that he was being completely serious and I couldn’t help the pull in my chest at the way he looked in that moment how much he has grown from when we were young and how much more he could do in the future, “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time now but I haven’t been honest with you at all, I don’t want to be your friend anymore and I haven’t wanted us to be friends since high school after we went to different schools,” I pulled away completely when he said that the tears were coming back and I felt as I couldn't breathe anymore Ransom could probably see my upcoming panic attack, so he did something I never thought would happen. He kissed me.

He kissed me.

That was the only thought that was going through my mind as my brain short-circuited, I stared up at him surprised not believing he did that Ransom stood before he started pacing rubbing at his neck before turning towards me, “This is not how I wanted to do it so I feel like I am already messing up but,” he paused as he took a deep breath before he came before me and kneeled so we were at eye level, “I have been in love with you since we were kids I think from the moment you punched me in the face and Grandad forced us to hang out, but I think the moment I knew was when I saw you at the dinner you were talking to some customers and I remember how you reached towards their little girl as you wiped something off her face and made her laugh.”

He leaned towards me just a little until our faces were just inches apart, his eyes darted down to my lips as I wet them, “I knew that if I could I would do whatever it took to keep you at my side even if that meant us only being friends, but I am done being your friend.” With that, he surged forward kissing me much softer than I thought my lips tingled at the contact after a few seconds he darted his tongue to swipe onto my bottom lip as I parted them for him before he began to kiss me a little bit deeper. When he pulled away I couldn’t help but let out a whine he chuckled at I flushed hotly at his laugh giving him a soft smile,

“Ducky you’d don't know how long I’ve been waiting to do that, I love you so much.”

“I love you too Ransom I always have and no matter how annoying you are with your little designer clothes and your dumb car,” he gave an offended scoff which I giggled at, “but I will always love you no matter what.”

Tags: @rmtndew​

[thefloorisbalaclava]

pragma - part twenty-three

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: light smut, talk of death, and the rest is fluff

A/N: I haven’t updated in so long and I feel so bad. I hope this makes up for the long wait!

Summary: Frankie is happy with how much his life has changed and he believes it’s all because of you.

[pragma masterlist]

Leaving was the hardest thing to do after spending any amount of time with him. You never liked saying goodbye so it was always ‘see you later’. Frankie liked that better too.

Once you got home, you called to tell him that you got home okay, but it turned into you two being on the phone with each other for almost an hour.

You were in bed wearing one of the hoodies you had ‘borrowed’ from him as you spoke. “We should go away,” you said.

“We went camping a few weeks ago.”

“I mean away away. Across the country. Out of the country. Somewhere far away together.”

“What brought this on?” he asked and, for some reason, your eyes filled with tears. He seemed to always know. “Babe…what is it?”

“I hate being away from you,” you cried then tried to laugh it off. “Sorry, I’m being silly.”

“Shh it’s okay. Talk to me.”

“I lost you once. I don’t wanna lose you again.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes.

“Why do you think you’ll lose me?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I told you I was being silly.”

“Your feelings aren’t silly though. Not to me. I want you to be able to tell me everything.”

“I had a bad dream a few weeks ago…about when I left all those years ago. But this time when I did you…you…” You couldn’t say the words. What if speaking them made it come true?

“Died?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Frankie. I shouldn’t have-"

“Yes, you should have. I was no good for you back then. Hell, I’m still not good enough for you now.” He paused. “But I know I love you and that I’m not going anywhere.”

“Me neither. Never again. I promise.” You cried and he let you. He couldn’t quite hold you but hearing his voice and being wrapped up in his hoodie would do for now.

“Wanna talk about something happy now?”

“Yeah…are you excited about starting your new job?”

“I’m nervous as hell, babe,” he confessed. “I may have to call you tomorrow morning for a little pep talk as I get ready.”

“You get to play with puppies all day. I’m jealous!”

“I’ll take pictures.” He went quiet for some time before speaking again. “Baby…remember what we talked about when we were dancing?”

“Yeah.” Your heart was beating out of your chest. “Why?”

“I…um…you know what? We’ll talk about it when we see each other again, okay?”

“Okay. You should probably get to sleep. You need all the rest you can get to keep up with a bunch of puppies.” You smiled as he chuckled on the other end.

“You’re right. I’ll call you first thing. Love you, babe.”

“Love you more.” You hung up and rolled over, falling asleep easily.

*

Your phone rang with a video call from Frankie at 6 am. You blinked against the brightness of the phone as you answered sleepily.

“Morning, my love. Do you think this is okay?” He showed you his outfit as you yawned and tried to keep your eyes open.

“That’s fine, Frankie.”

His face appeared on the screen again and he smiled apologetically. “Didn’t mean to wake you up. Wanna go back to sleep?” he asked, walking through his house drinking coffee.

“I will after we’re done.” You smiled to reassure him.

“You look so adorable all sleepy and wrapped up in my hoodie. Makes me wanna come take it off of you.” He winked.

“Is this really what you should be talking about before work, sir?”

“Talking about morning sex with my girl before work? Hell yeah! What a motivator.” He pouted. “I can really use that right now, to be honest.”

“God, Frankie…” you sighed. Honestly, you could too. “Don’t tease me.”

“You wanna…you know…” He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

“Over the phone? At six in the morning?”

“What? You’ve never had phone sex before?” he asked.

“Have you?” You waited for his response but he only gave you shifty eyes. “Oh my…”

“Are you upset? Don’t be upset.”

“Why would I be upset?”

“It was only when you were-"

“You don’t have to explain, Frankie.” You laughed and shook your head.

“And you’re not mad?”

“No. Now go finish getting ready for work and call me on your break or something. Good luck, hot stuff.” You blew him a kiss.

“Love you, sugar,” he said before hanging up.

You knew that he’d still be thinking that you’re upset with him so to prove to him you weren’t, you pulled up the hoodie you were wearing and snapped a quick picture. You had nothing on under it. Thinking it might be too distracting to send right as he was getting to work, you waited a few hours to send it.

*

Around 12:15 he called you.

“Babe…I really don’t think it would be good for me to pop a boner while working with a bunch of dogs,” he said and you snorted.

“Just wanted to give you a little surprise,” you started, “How’s it going?”

“I love it. You gotta come by someday and meet everyone.” It was nice hearing him so excited. “Are you gonna send me another picture?” he asked.

“You’ll have to wait and see…”

“Are you still…just wearing my hoodie?” he asked, his voice low and slightly needy.

“Well, I’m actually wearing one of your shirts now. I just threw it on after my shower.” You sat down on the couch and smiled at the small sound he made.

“Which one?”

“Hold on…” You took a few pictures instead. “There.”

“There what?” Then you could hear him moving the phone to look at the message that you had sent him. “Holy…the flannel button up…was wondering where it went.”

“Do you like it on me?” you asked innocently.

“Babe, you could be wearing a trash bag and I’d think you look great. The fact that it's my shirt does make it a little hotter, not gonna lie.” His voice was even lower but you knew you couldn't keep talking about this, at least not while he was at work.

“We’ll talk more about it later. Tell me about the dogs.”

He was so excited and you could hear it in the way he talked about what he did. You were incredibly happy and proud of him. It brought tears to your eyes.

“So, you're happy?” you asked.

“Very happy.” He was smiling. You could hear it.

“Good. Make sure you call me when you get home so you can tell me more.”

“Okay and make sure you send more pics. Love you. Bye.” He hung up quickly so that you couldn’t scold him and you laughed. You love him so damn much.

*

You were settling down in front of the TV and waiting for Frankie’s phone call when someone knocked on the door. You groaned and stood up again to answer. Checking the peephole, you gasped and opened the door excitedly.

“Surprise!” Frankie said. He opened his arms and you ran into them.

“Frankie baby! What are you doing here?” You kissed, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re wet.”

“I showered before coming. Smelled like dog.” He walked inside with you. “Wanted to tell you about my day in person. I brought food!”

“I’ll grab some drinks,” you said walking to the kitchen. “Beer?”

“Yes please.”

“So, tell me, how was it?” You bent to get the drinks out of the fridge. “Frankie, tell me how-" When you stood up again and turned, you saw the way he was looking at you.

“You’re still wearing the shirt,” he murmured, looking you over.

“None of that until we eat and you tell me about your day.”

He pouted. “Fine.” He sat at the table and took the food out of the bag as you walked over with the drinks.

“Don’t pout,” you said before bending to kiss him. He smiled brightly. “Ah, there’s my Frankie.”

“Your Frankie would like to see what’s under that shirt.” He gave you his best puppy dog eyes. Usually you’d fall for them—those big, brown eyes captivated you—but you sat in the chair beside him and rolled your eyes.

“Am I allowed to eat first, sir?”

“I guess,” he huffed. “Here.” He handed you his phone so you could look through the pictures as he scooped some food onto the plates.

“Oh my god, look at them! Look at you!” He had taken selfies with some of the dogs. “God, you’re cute…wait what’s this?” You turned the phone so he could see.

“Oh, a hammock,” he said nonchalantly, taking a bite of food before feeding you some.

You chewed and swallowed the food in your mouth before speaking. “You made a hammock…for the dogs?”

“Yeah and they loved it!”

You looked at him and smiled. “I ever tell you I love you?”

“Ehhh…maybe a few times,” he teased, feeding you some more food.

“You’re so good to me.”

“Nah, you’re the one who’s good to me. I’m a whole new man because of you.” He wiped your mouth with a napkin then kissed you. He pulled you onto his lap and laid his head on your breasts.

“I don’t want you to be a whole new man though…”

“You know what I mean. I’m…better because of you.” He looked up and smiled.

“And I’m better because of you.” You touched his face and he closed his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about you in my hoodie and shirt all day.” He gave you a dreamy smile making you laugh.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I told you what that picture did to me.” He slid his hand up your thigh as he spoke.

You gasped as his hand slid between your legs. “You wanna go upstairs?”

“Not really.” He watched you as he fingertips finally found what they were looking for. “Don’t think I can make it that far.”

“So…you wanna…right here in the chair?” You smiled as you pushed against his fingers.

“Will you keep the shirt on?” he asked, pressing his fingers firmer against your core.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, looking down at his hand.

“Good. You still hungry?” You shook your head. “Okay.” He pushed the food out of the way and sat you on the table.

“What are you doing?” You ran your fingers through his hair as he kissed up your thighs. He looked up at you as he hooked his fingers on the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips for him and he slid them off then dropped them on the floor. “Frankie, you…ah!” You felt his tongue on you but couldn’t see him very well because of the shirt you wore. You bunched it up to your stomach and immediately met his eyes. “Oh my god…”

He pulled away and grinned at you. “Dessert.”

“You’re so naughty sometimes. Wonder where you get it from.” You pulled his hair a little and he closed his eyes. When they opened again, he looked at you with a sort of hunger. He took no time in delving back between your legs, tasting you and letting you know just how much he was enjoying it with all the sounds he made. “Come here, Frankie.”

“Mm!” He pulled away from you and kissed your thighs again. “I wasn’t done.” His hands slid under the shirt you were wearing before he slid them back out and started to unbutton it.

“I thought you wanted me to keep it on.”

“It’ll stay on. I’m just unbuttoning it to get a better look at you.” He smiled slyly as he stood to reach the rest of the buttons. You pulled at his shirt and he let you slip it up and off. He admired the way the shirt hung off your shoulders now that he finished unbuttoning it. You were laid bare to him and almost felt shy.

“Are we really about to make love on my kitchen table?” you asked, pulling him to you.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, smirking.

It didn't take long before Frankie had all his clothes off. The food had long been forgotten as he pressed into you slowly, kissing along your collarbone. You held him close as he made love to you. He took his time and you savored each minute. It was clear you both missed each other.

*

After a bath, you both laid in your bed and looked at the pictures and video he had taken on his first day at work. You learned the names of most of the dogs and looked at Frankie with such admiration as he talked about them. It was hard not falling in love with him more every time he spoke.

“I'm so happy for you,” you told him and he put the phone down to look at you.

“I owe everything to you.” He laid his head on your stomach and you played with his hair. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes that enraptured you every time.

“Give yourself some credit, Frankie.”

“I don’t think I would’ve done this if you weren’t back in my life,” he confessed. “I never really had any direction since leaving the army and losing my license…and losing you.”

“You found your way,” you reminded him.

“No, you found me again. You helped me find myself. You helped me find the guy I was all those years ago—the guy you fell in love with. I had lost him for a while.” He took your hand and kissed it.

“And you helped me in more ways than I can ever say. You saved me. Don’t you ever forget that.”

It was quiet for a time before either of you spoke again. “Do you believe in fate?” he asked. “I never used to before. Thought it was a bunch of nonsense…but then I met you and my mind changed about a lot of things. I think we were meant for each other even if I’ve done fuck all to deserve you…”

“You deserve me more than anyone. And yes, we are meant for each other. I’m never letting you go…again,” you added quietly.

“I hope I never give you a reason to again.” He looked at you as if to say ‘I won’t let you down'.

“You’re stuck with me,” you said.

“Well, ain’t I the lucky one?” He smiled at you then nuzzled your stomach, getting himself more comfortable. You hoped he knew how lucky he made you feel.

[twenty-four]

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[oss-crime]

Chapter 2-Project “Ma” –Eve–; Scene 6

Original Sin Story: Crime, pages 56-69

One of the cities that made up the Twelve Royal Capitals was the city of Asmouse.

This town, managed by senate member Ceci Vaju, was the place where the historical backing of the Twelve Royal Capitals was most pronounced.

The people who had once began the excavation of the god’s legacy in this area—Senator Vaju was a descendant of theirs, and he was also a very passionate researcher of artifacts.

Fumbling for a way to more effectively utilize these artifacts, Senator Vaju founded the Royal Research Institute in Asmouse with permission from the previous queen. He entrusted the position of first director to a friend who shared his passion, Horus Solntse.

As their initial goal implied, the Royal Research Institute’s research wound up contributing greatly to the development of Leviantan engineering, weaponry, and living wares. The artifacts could be made to work with magical power, but Horus and the other researchers progressively discovered more effective operating procedures, and brought yet more glory to the Magic Kingdom.

Meanwhile, Senator Vaju and Horus also used the institute to pursue a different avenue of research.

That was “to deliberately create people who have strong magical abilities”. In other words, it was to make a candidate for the next queen be born under the domain of Senator Vaju, and was also necessary research for him to obtain the position of the next senate head.

But that research had proved to be much rougher going than anticipated, and Horus had passed away from illness before they could achieve any results.

Horus had an adopted son named Adam, and he was, too, a skilled scientist. For that reason he was hired on by Senator Vaju as the new head of the institute, and he also inherited their research—the “Next Queen Project”.

--That “Next Queen Project” had now changed its name to “Project Ma”, and was proceeding under the supervision of Head Senator Miroku.

.

…Most of that was inconsequential to Eve.

The important thing was the fact that Eve was, at present, the strongest candidate they had for “Ma”.

Not having much interest in science herself, Eve could only conclude that the Royal Research Institute was a cold, unappealing place.

“Wish I could have had a more comfortable chair.”

Adam gave a slightly troubled smile at Eve’s complaint, handing her a cup with a liquid in it.

“We’ll give that a fix the next time we’re making a device to test magical ability. But for right now this is all we’ve got…Well, anyway, give this is a drink if you like.”

“…What’s this?”

“It’s a drink called coffee. It’s not spread much outside the capital, so it’s understandable if you’ve never heard of it.”

With Eve’s mood souring more under the impression that she was being made fun of as a country hick, she brought the brown liquid to her lips.

“—It smells good. But it’s a little bitter.”

“It’s got a lot of milk and sugar in it. Drinking it should help you calm down a bit.”

“I think I’d be a lot calmer if I could get these wires off my arms and legs.”

“We need them to get an accurate reading of your magic. …It’ll take a little bit of time, so please try to be patient.”

The measuring device they’d used in the village of Nemu was a simpler, portable model.

Though, it wasn’t the fault of that device that they hadn’t gotten an accurate result back then.

“That spoon…is also extremely curious to me, as a scientist,” Adam said, brandishing the blue spoon that Eve used instead of a staff.

“At a glance it looks like a normal, bland item….But it can increase or decrease the magical ability of its owner at will. In other words it can amplify magic and also temporarily put a seal on it—”

“My mother gave it to me.”

“Did she make it?”

“I don’t know. I never learned that.”

“This might also be a legacy piece…Well, we’ll deal with that later.”

Adam set the spoon on a nearby table, and then drew closer to a large box that was next to the chair Eve was sitting in.

“Well, let’s get started.”

He pushed up a lever that was attached to the box.

Suddenly feeling slightly dizzy, Eve fell back a bit in the chair.

“I’m…a bit nauseous.”

“It’ll go away. We have to check to see if that powerful spell you used in the forest…was because of the spoon, or your own magical ability.”

“How…long will it take?”

“Hmm…About an hour, I think.”

“That long!?”

“It’s not like you have to keep perfectly still the whole time. Though you can’t leave the chair. You can drink coffee, or if you’re hungry I can bring you something to eat.”

“Then—” After looking up at the ceiling for a moment, Eve continued, “Can I talk?”

“With me? …Of course, I don’t mind.”

“Then…I want you to tell me something.”

“What is it?”

“About the ‘Witch of Merrigod’.”

Adam’s expression stiffened. “Why would you want to—”

“She’s the one who murdered the father who raised me. Isn’t it only natural that I would want to know about her?”

“What will you do with this information?”

“…Not sure.”

Eve herself didn’t know the answer to that question.

But—

“I can’t just go on not knowing.”

“…”

“Assuming I’ll become queen someday, I mean.”

“…I see. Yes, perhaps…so.” After gazing fixedly at Eve’s face, Adam steeled himself and then started to talk. “The ‘Witch of Merrigod’—Meta Salmhofer was originally an ‘Ma’ candidate.”

“You told me that earlier. But you said she was discarded for being cruel?”

“Yes. If you go southeast of the capital—far, far further east than the village of Nemu where you live, there is a place called Merrigod Plateau. That area is a dangerous region, used as a stronghold by a certain group.”

“…You mean the ‘red devotees’?”

“No, to be accurate those are little more than a single unit of this group. The name for them as a whole—is ‘Apocalypse’. There are some people who say they’re a simple crew of bandits, and there are others who caution that they’re an anti-social organization that seeks to overthrow the kingdom.”

According to Adam, not even the royal capital’s information bureau knew the true situation.

“What we do know is that the leader of Apocalypse is named ‘Pale Noel’. And that he and Meta are lovers.”

“Pale Noel…”

“His age, his appearance…all of it is unknown. Actually, we don’t even know if he’s really a man. Whatever the case, she’s this person’s girlfriend. We needed to exercise extreme caution even to go see them.”

At the time, Adam, Seth, and a few other researchers had gone to Merrigod Plateau with a peacekeeping force led by Gammon following along.

“But…that was a mistake.”

Adam heaved a great sigh.

“We just ended up provoking them. As a result…a small war broke out on Merrigod Plateau. Though that wasn’t what we scientists had intended at all.”

“But that wasn’t the case with the peacekeeping force and Apocalypse…Right?”

“Indeed. Gammon is always looking for glory. It’s like he’s a big bundle of ambition. Even more so after he became the head of the peacekeeping forces. He likely figured he could use his position as bodyguard to crush Apocalypse.”

But his plan ended in failure.

“Meta is an ‘Inheritor of Gilles’. She controlled the soldiers of the peacekeeping force with her power, and they all started firing at each other. Even us researchers, who they were supposed to be guarding, got caught up in it….We had heavy losses. That’s why the institute is still completely understaffed.”

Eve had come along to the institute with Adam, but now that he mentioned it she realized that she hadn’t seen anyone else up to coming to this room.

“How…many scientists survived?”

Adam spread his arms in a grandiose gesture and replied, “Don’t be surprised. Just me and Seth! Though this facility wasn’t very heavily staffed to begin with.”

“I see…How awful.”

Eve had the home where she’d lived destroyed by Meta.

But Adam too had had his friends murdered.

“Yes…Some of them I got along with quite well, and some I frankly didn’t much care for. But none of them deserved to die like that.”

On seeing Adam’s bitter expression, Eve was reminded of her own grief.

“Hey…Just what is an ‘Inheritor of Gilles’ exactly?” she asked, trying to change the mood.

“R-right…An ‘inheritor’ is, well…To put it simply, it’s someone with ‘supernatural powers’.”

“’Supernatural powers’? Unlike magic?”

“In this country there are people who possess ‘special powers’ different from magical power. For example…the white army. We know from our reports that clan has the power of ‘Inheritors of Salem’, able to wield fire.”

“I see…So that was it.”

Eve had always thought that the white army’s usage of fire was through magic, but it appeared this wasn’t the case.

“Among the white army there are people who are magically impotent—that is, they were born without any ability to use magic at all. And yet despite that they are able to use their fire powers just the same as their fellows. …Though I’ve heard that research into the fundamental theory behind it hasn’t progressed very far at present.”

“Is that research conducted here?”

“No. Research into ‘inheritors’ is the purview of Lighwatch Temple. Sir Yegor Asayev, the head priest, is the expert on it.”

“Wow…”

“So, honestly I don’t actually know that much about ‘Inheritors’. Just that they’re divided up into categories by ability, like ‘Gilles’ and ‘Salem’, and that those are based on the names of the god kin—”

At that moment, the box set next to Eve—the magical ability measuring device, started to faintly shake.

“Hey…Is this working okay?”

Eve pointed to the box.

“Hm? …Oh, that’s fine,” Adam replied, gazing at the symbols that popped up onto the box’s screen. “Would you like some more coffee?” he asked her, turning around and noticing that Eve’s cup was empty.

It was a peculiar drink; Eve didn’t find it all that tasty, and yet she kept bringing it to her lips for some reason.

“Yes, please…But before that, one more question.”

“What is it?”

“…Why did Meta go after my father?”

“…That I don’t know.”

His eyes looked somewhat shifty.

Still, Eve couldn’t tell if Adam was playing dumb or not.

“Well then, a different question.”

“You’ve quite a lot of those. I actually have a lot of things I want to ask you, you know.”

“What does the royal capital…or rather, the military, plan to do about Apocalypse?”

“What do you me—”

“They’ve killed a lot of people, right? The people of the village of Nemu, and the people from this institute…’Sin must be punished’…Even I know the laws of this country.”

“…”

Adam took the cup from Eve and left the room without a word.

--In hardly any time at all, he had returned once more with a cup full of fresh coffee.

“Here you go. I put in more milk than last time.”

“Thanks.”

“…They are to keep careful watch over Apocalypse—That is what the military…or rather, the senate, decided.”

“--! Why!?”

“At present, Apocalypse has done no damage to the Twelve Royal Capitals. For the kingdom, the white army and the others are little more than barbarians at their border. The capital’s protection would be imperiled if they moved their security forces against them any further than they have.”

“So you’re saying that as long as the royal capital is alright, it doesn’t matter what happens to the others?”

“…I’m just a mere scientist. What I’ve told you now is just what I’ve heard from Gammon.”

Even if he was involved in a project of great importance to the country, he wasn’t in any position to say much more on the government outside of that—That’s likely what he meant.

Eve could tell that.

She could, but…

“That’s unreasonable. The ruler of a country needs to understand the suffering of its people…I think now I understand why my father hated politics,” Eve muttered, frustrated.

“…”

Adam looked upon Eve in silence for a short while, but eventually he shifted his gaze to the measuring device.            

Then he took up the piece of paper and quill set on the desk and started to write something down.

--Midway through his work, Adam said, still not looking at Eve, “In that case…You should become the ruler.”

“…”

“It seems you have the qualifications for it.”

“So you mean…I can become queen? Has it come up with a result?”

“No, it’s still measuring, but…At this point I’m already seeing some impressive numbers. I think…your magical ability is much higher than that of your father.”

Even so.

No matter how gifted she was, Eve was still just a simple girl who knew nothing of governance.

Would anything change by someone like her becoming queen?

--Appearing to sense her anxiety, Adam set down the paper and quill and drew close to her.

“It’ll be fine, I know it.”

“…”

“I’m sure you can do it.”

“Can I do anything alone?”

“You’re not alone.”

“My father is dead. And the people of my village are gone. I don’t have anyone—"

“—You have me.”

Adam clasped Eve’s hands in his own.

…She couldn’t bring herself to brush aside the warmth in them.

“Do you dislike me?” Adam asked.

“…If I did, I wouldn’t be cooperating with all this…But, what about you?”

Adam had gotten close with Eve just because she might have had strong magic.

She was just a candidate for queen to him.

That was surely the reason for him being so kind to her like this—

“I wouldn’t be trying to have someone I disliked selected as queen,” Adam said plainly. “You’re an enchanting woman. I’ve thought so since the first time I met you.”

“…Didn’t you stab at me with a sword at first?”

Adam burst out laughing at Eve’s reply. “Pfff…Ah haha, that’s true. Please forgive me for that. I was desperate back then.”

“Are you good with a sword?”

“I’ve only learned enough to defend myself…Ah yes, speaking of swords.”

Adam shifted his gaze to a sword that sat in the corner of the room.

“We ended up bringing that over here.”

It was Raisa’s sword, the one that Gammon had thrown to him in the forest.

“It’s an unusual shape…Its current owner is currently in prison. Not much point in returning it.”

“Raisa is…alive?”

“Just barely. Though even if her wounds are healed, thinking on what she’s done…She’s not likely to avoid an execution.”

“…”

It wasn’t just Raisa.

The Witch of Merrigod Meta, and Pale Noel.

In this world, so much—

Evil had spread.

Even if Eve continued to fire lightning as the “Witch of the Forest”, she could never get rid of it all.

It was impossible for one person.

She would need—much more power.

And for that…

Eve chewed her lip.

.

--As though to mock the resolve that had begun to sprout in Eve’s heart, several days later something happened.

Raisa, the white fiend of Jakoku, escaped from prison.

There was no way that she could have accomplished this herself, being near death.

It was likely that an outside person with influence had pulled some strings.

.

Meanwhile, the magical potential measurement result…was suitable for queen candidacy, just as Adam had predicted.

Her M count was over 350…Eve didn’t know how much exactly, but at the very least it was more than enough to secure the agreement of both Adam and the senate.

And with that result, Eve could smoothly become queen—or so she had thought.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[captainkirkk]

1/8 extended family anon: okay with one question about five you've made me flesh out this world. He's a kid. So they do have powers and Reginald raises them as per canon, five jumps to the apocalypse BUT there's no time cops in this au. Instead after a few years of slowly practising his time jumps he makes his way back to Reginald's funeral. It takes him forever to get the hang of it bc he's not exactly eating and resting well + trauma but he gets there bc he has to get back and warn his family!

Under the cut because it got it bit long. I fucking love this AU though.

2/? So he crashes the funeral but he's like 15-16 and a very unhealthy child due to the apocalypse being not a great place to grow up. Without the commission making things more difficult the siblings (eventually) figure out what's going on. There's a tense stand-off w Vanya but it goes better bc they do it earlier w/out the interference and in the end the whole apocalypse becomes a non-issue. after finding out about her powers and her ex-boyfriend's shiftiness (she's probably not

3/? the one to kill him bc i feel like that way doomsday lies. Five does it instead bc he's just as feral even without being a trained assassin) Vanya goes on a road trip to find herself. On this road trip she meets Sissy and Harlan. Meanwhile five is legally a child and all of his siblings want to make sure he's being properly looked after. Five who survived 2-3 years by himself in the apocalypse disagrees about the need for a guardian. Alison who actually has a child is doing what she can

4/? but between travelling regularly across country to visit Claire (she probably meets Ray while travelling) and the chaos of the sibling dynamic it isn’t ideal. Grace isn't doing great at parenting either bc while they're working to fix her programming it's not fully fixed yet. Pogo is also there being Pogo. Diego's around a lot bc of Grace (plus his siblings but he's not going to say that) but is not parenting. Neither is Luther bc five doesn't respect him as an authority figure.

5/? Klaus is also not doing parenting but is somewhat? around bc family and bc he wants support while he tries to get sober. (he still ends up in Vietnam at some point but through a natural or five made time portal bc no commission. When he gets back he makes five (who has some control of time travel and hasn't been taught not to fuck w the timeline) go back to rescue Dave). Ben is probably still ghosting around unless he did what he did for Vanya in s2 in this s1. Patch didn't die

6/? bc no time cops and maybe they meet Lila organically since she's their super power sibling. They both end up as vaguely part of the family. Vanya gets back from her lesbian road trip months after she left to find the Great Five Should Go to Therapy Debate in full swing. She tries to deescalate by offering to go if he does. Bc he's a vindictive asshole he says he'll only go if everyone goes, and as soon as anyone stops, he does too. This is how they all get professional help bc I demand it.

7/? The end result is thanksgivings look like 5 adopted adult siblings, 1 terrifying teenage adopted sibling, (maybe a ghost,) 1 robot mother, 1 talking monkey, 2 spouses from the present, and 1 from the 60s, 2 children/stepchildren, 1 extra sibling who didn't get adopted but found later, and 1 detective who nobody knows why she's here but they're all thrilled she is

.8/8 Also Hazel is a regular office drone or a CIA agent or something who met Agnes, fell in love, and quit his job. Sometimes they also show up. The final important detail is Sissy and Grace are good friends.

9/8 extended family anon, the other final important point is thinking about five in his late teens dealing with this very large family and his nice and nephew especially

Five spent years in the apocalypse totally alone, and now he has the biggest family ever. He not-so-secretly loves it.

About Hazel: he’s the CIA agent (or something alone those lines) that got assigned to investigate all the weird shit the Hargreeves stirred up, like maybe energy disturbances with Five/Vanya’s powers. Five spends a lot of time at Griddy’s, so maybe he even kind of helps him and Agnes get together. Either way, when Five kills Leonard, Hazel is able to make it look like self-defence so it doesn’t go to trial (which it sort of is, but Five is still kind of... vicious about the whole thing and loses himself). He sends a Christmas card every year reminding Five not to get into any more trouble. Not that Five would listen.

Also I need to see Sissy, Patch, Dave and Ray meeting everyone in this AU, good lord. Klaus might not really know what to do, parenting wise, but I bet Dave would try his best, even if he’s wayyy out of his depths. Same with Sissy and Ray. Thankfully, Five has more patience with his in-laws than his siblings, simply because he knows he has to be semi-polite to them to avoid chasing them off. 

[musicnoots]

Honey, Hold On For Me

Shifty Powers/Reader

Prompt “The way I feel when I’m with you...” requested by anon

A/N: i’m sorry this took so long but i finally beat writers block and this present to you all... THIS!

Synopsis: You and Shifty begin to talk about the future—what lies ahead on your journey together and what happens when the story ends. 

Tags: @wexhappyxfew @junojelli @dumpofdumblings @bandofmarvels @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @floydtab @tvserie-s-world​ @yeahcurrahee​ @gottapenny​ @dustyjjumpwings​ @those-dusty-jump-wings​ @meteora-fc​ @rayleighshughes​ @medievalfangirl​ @majwinters​ @not-john-watsons-blog​ @alienoresimagines​ @david-weepster​ @higgles123​ @curraheev​

It’d been a long day, warm and breezy, honey-slow for a change. He was lucky enough to snag a moment for himself after weeks of fighting along the frontlines, briefly forgetting the sound of death and instead, his day was filled with you, humming a tune as you laid just mere inches away from him.

It was familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it—he thinks it’s probably one of those Ella Fitzgerald songs he used to hear on the radio during those hot, summer nights back home at Clinchco. He rests against the trunk of the tree his body leans against, you’ve laid your head on his lap, eyes closed as his fingers became weaved within the strands of your hair—he thinks you look beautiful. The sun shines on your face so perfectly, it highlights your features so marvelously, the identity of the mystery tune no longer plagues his head but rather, replaced by another.

“I had a dream the other night.”

“Hm?” You glance up, unbothered.

Shifty fights the urge to shy away from the question. Instead, he rests his head against the tree his body leans against and brushes a stray hair from your face. “I had a dream...about us. We were married.”

You open your eyes, and the corners of your lips curved upwards. “We were?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “We lived in a beautiful house back at Clinchco—two stories, nice, big ol’ living room, and a cute little pupper waiting for us in the front yard. Don’t think we named ‘im, but we were married, darlin’. Wedding bands and everythin’.” The rings were gold, he remembers. He’d run his thumb over the metal when he takes your hand into his over the kitchen counter, early morning I love yous exchanged over hot coffee. Having you be a part of his life in the years to come just felt like the right thing to happen. “I guess...I guess it was everything I could’ve ever wished for.”

“Everything you could’ve ever wished for?” you echo back, asking if you had heard him right and he nods. 

“It was all so...perfect. It was the best dream I’ve had in a long time, and I still think about it, how...how wonderful everything was. And it just made sense, y’know, after all this war stuff, for me to go back home and settle down.” He looks down and hopes to see a look of agreement on your face, that maybe, you’d want to tag along with him in the end.

But of course, he doesn’t know what your post-war ambitions include. You’re young, you and Shifty both, at the ripe old age of twenty-one, he wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t feel like setting down just yet. If you wanted to travel the world, earn a university degree, reach for the highest stars in the sky, he’d promise that he’ll be by your side, even if it meant delaying his own plans until the time was right. Shifty doesn’t care where his future endeavors take him, he just knows that he’s meant to live them out with you. 

“I think at this point, we both deserve that,” you say, rolling on your side and smiling at him. You’re glad you both grasped a moment for yourselves because if this was the last time you’d see each other, this is the way you would spend it—in his arms, at ease. “I’m hopin’ I get to live long enough to live that, you know? I don’t even know if I’ll be lucky enough to see your face tomorrow, I’m stuck here savoring this moment between us here, so that I’ll have something to hold on to if either of us don’t make it.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but the words come stuck at his throat. When you put it like that, Shifty becomes more aware of the circumstances that surround the universe at this very moment, and he’s almost found himself with a change of heart, a revelation. He pulls his hand away from your hair and traces the shape of your eyebrow with his thumb. He wished he would have appreciated this moment as much as you did. “I...I never thought of it like that before...suppose our days together are numbered, and we don’t know how long it’s gonna last.”

“Life without you, I don’t even wanna think what that would look like, Darrell. I never wanna think about a world where you’re not in it. Guess I love you a lot, but I just wanna believe that we’d be together until the end of time. Physically, emotionally, spiritually…”

“Maybe the best we could do is to hold onto each other for as long we can,” he says. He’s not so sure else to say. He didn’t expect for this conversation to ever happen, but he thinks it was bound to happen anyways—fighting on in a war next to the person he loves, it was a conversation he should have been ready for, but he never knew how heavy it would be.

It’s a solemn evening. 

What began as a simple conversation of dreams and what ifs turned into a serious talk about life and death in a time where the next sunrise isn’t even guaranteed for every soul that long to see it. Shifty starts to think that maybe this conversation was meant to happen. He should have known that there might be a day where he would have to let go of you, go on with life as if you didn’t hold his heart with the gentlest hands—he realizes that he only wants to spend the rest of his own life with you. The first time he kissed you, behind the mess hall under the hot Georgia night, hair matted against your skin, he already knew there was no else he would rather spend life’s adventures with.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask you,” he speaks again, “if you’d be okay livin’ the rest of forever with me. You don’t have to say yes.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t have to say yes?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna force you into making a decision for me—I know Clinchco ain’t exactly a town with a whole lot of opportunities,” he said, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “No matter what you say, I won’t love you any less. You could be halfway across the country doin’ ya own thing, and I’ll still be writing you love letters like I always do. Hopin’ they’ll nicer by then, but I can’t make a promises that they’ll be in any form extravagant.”

The speech smacks you across the face. You roll off his lap and plant your hand on the Earth to keep you steady. “Darrell...you really don’t have to—“

“But honey, I do mean it,” he interrupts. He bites his bottom lip and watches your expression, your eyebrows as they knit together in shock. “The way I feel when I’m with you...I just wanna feel it everyday, forever. I don’t care where in the world you take us, I just wanna be with you, Clinchco or not.”

“How come I don’t have to say yes?” you ask.

“‘Cause I know Clinchco ain’t the town for everyone, and I don’t know if you’d wanna settle down with some ol’ hillbilly like me. I know I can’t offer a whole lot to you. If you don’t wanna be seen with a fella like me, I understand, and I’ll still love you no matter what. And if you don’t wanna be with me no more, or if we can’t be together after this, just know that I would rather have you for the time we have right now than anyone else for the rest of my life.”

“Darrell…”

He gives you a sad smile. He means it.

You hold up a hand to his cheek and stroke the skin gently. “But I don’t know what I wanna do after all of this is over...we don’t even know when this is gonna end.”

“That’s alright, maybe we can think about it on the way…” He takes your hand and plants his lips on your palm. “I just needa know if you’re willing to spend the rest of eternity with...with me.”

For a fleeting moment, you’re motionless and Shifty’s smile starts to fade away with every passing second. He knows not to make a fuss about it, after all, he only wants what’s best for you, and he’ll be happy regardless of your decision. 

“Yeah.” You sit back on your haunches and take his face into your hands. “I do wanna spend it all with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pull him in for a kiss, his own hands resting on the curve of your back. He worries about his lips being chapped, but you’ve kissed him one too many times to even bother with that—it’s perfect every time.

He pulls away after a short moment. “I’m not guilting you, am I?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Never. I’m choosing to live it out with you, and wherever this world takes us—who knows? I’m not expecting anything lavish, dear. All I really want is to be by your side, and for you to be right by mine.”

He’s awestruck. “You really do mean it, do you?”

“I know this is where I’m supposed to be.” You sit yourself next to him with your back against the tree trunk and put your head on his shoulder. “This is where I’m meant to be…”

There’s only a few more hours left until the both of you are able to get some shut eye, the sun finally ends her descent below horizon to welcome the faint outline of the moon. Shifty thinks about his dream again, how it would be to sleep together in an actual bed, legs tangled beneath blankets, wedding bands resting on the nightstand nearby—he wonders if that’s exactly what the future has in store for him. In another world, he wouldn’t have to worry about making it out the war alive, rather, he’d just have to worry about how long you both can sleep in together until you feel the guilt seep in from your sides. 

He wraps his arms around you and watches as the shadows on the ground slowly blend into nothing, daylight fading away into the solemn darkness of the night. He feels content with what he has now and kisses the top of your head. You smile and squeeze his thigh, all too focused on enjoying the moment as it is.

For now, he would have to hold on for a little while longer. For the both of you. 

[fromcrossroadstoking]

The Memories That Stay

A ghost story of sorts about Chuck Grant and his not-exactly-alive WW2 soldier best friend.

Taglist: @indigosandviolets​ @itisjustmethistime​ @gottapenny​ 

Chuck Grant has been haunted almost all his life. Quite literally.

At the tender age of 6, his parents made the fateful decision to move the family of three from California to Virginia. At a mere six years old, Chuck had very little say in the matter. He held small childish protests about wanting to stay at the beach with his nanny and grampy but, again, at only six, he was very easy to pickup and buckle in to a car seat despite his squirming.

Thankfully, six year olds are very easily distracted from their problems. The long car trip across the country filled with whining and wriggling and begging to get out and run around, was quickly erased from Chuck`s thoughts as he laid his eyes upon his new home. 

The house was easily twice as large as his old one and surrounded by a sea of trees. Chuck`s eyes widened in delight - he had never seen so many trees in one place at one time! It was every child`s most wild desire - an entire forest at their fingertips to explore.

The house itself, though large, was nothing to drool over, or at least that`s what young Chuck heard his mom say. The house was old and rather run down looking inside and out. It needed work. A lot of it. Not that that was anything Chuck cared about; oh no, he had a thousand new places to explore and his small heart beat fast with excitement.

~

Chuck made his first new friend within a couple of days. As his parents cleaned and unpacked and did whatever else it is that grownups did when moving in to a new old house, Chuck played with his little green army men in the backyard. Chuck had been playing for a while when he decided it was time for the paratroopers to be deployed. He scooped them up in his hands and made loud airplane sounds as he swooped over the enemy camp and dropped the paratroopers upon them.

"There`s a tear in that one`s chute. Ain`t gonna survive with a tear in the chute."

Chuck`s head swiveled to face the direction of the unfamiliar voice. A man stood at the edge of the woods, just feet from him, dressed almost like one of his army men.

"What?" Now Chuck had been lectured about stranger danger and how he should never, ever talk to people he didn`t know but... well, the strange man had piqued Chuck`s interest with his comment.

"The paratrooper you just dropped. He`s got a tear in his chute. Ain`t gonna survive the jump like that 'cause the chute won`t work right."

Chuck scrunched up his face as he considered the man`s words and then turned to examine the chute of the recently deployed soldier. Lo and behold, there was indeed a tear in the parachute. This, of course, would not do. Before running off to demand his father fix it so that the mission could be completed, he turned back towards the nameless man to thank him (he was raised with manners after all).

The man was nowhere in sight.

~

A few days later the man appeared again. This time, however, it was in Chuck`s room and not the backyard which was odd because Chuck had not heard anyone come in.

"You fix the chute?"

Chuck stared at the stranger for a moment. His mother had just given him a fresh stranger danger lecture yesterday since they were now living in a new place and she felt he might need a reminder. But this man couldn`t be a stranger, could he? After all, if he was in the house, his parents must have let him in. 

"Dad did."

"Good. You complete the mission?"

"Yeah."

The stranger smiled at him like he approved. And then he vanished. Which was another odd thing because Chuck had never seen someone vanish like that before. Somewhere in his six year old mind he chalked it up to magic, because as any child will tell you, magic is a very real thing, and went back to playing with his matchbox cars.

~

The odd man didn`t appear again until Saturday. Chuck knew it was Saturday because his favorite Saturday morning cartoons were on. He was parked on the floor in front of the television, eyes fixated on the bright colors of the screen as he shoveled a spoonful of extra sugary cereal in his mouth. As one character tricked another in to running off a cliff, Chuck heard a soft chuckle behind him. Turning to look, he found the magic vanishing man sitting on the couch.

"You like cartoons?"

"Guess I do. Never really watched them before." 

He really was a very odd man.

Chuck launched in to a detailed explanation of the current show to let his new friend in on what he was missing. The man listened patiently as Chuck went on in the meandering, rambling way that children do when given the freedom to talk about something they`re enthusiastic about.

"Chuck, sweetie, who are you talking to?"

Chuck looked over at his mother, who stood in the living room doorway with a questioning look on her face.

"My friend!" Chuck pointed to a spot on the couch.

"Your friend? And what`s your friend`s name?"

Chuck paused a moment as he realized that he did not in fact know his new friend`s name. He looked at the man and questioned, "What`s your name?"

"Skinny."

Turning back to his mom, Chuck matter-of-factedly announced that his friend`s name was Skinny.

"Skinny?", his mom gave him a amused smile, "That`s a bit of an odd name, isn`t it?"

"That`s not nice, mom! You`re only 'sposed to say stuff when it`s nice stuff!"

"You`re right, hunny. I`m sorry. I`m going to go finish up the laundry. You and your friend have fun watching cartoons, okay?"

~

Skinny became a mainstay in the Grant household after that. Chuck`s parents figured this new imaginary friend was a result of the lack of other children (the new house was rather in the middle of nowhere) and a child`s overactive imagination. Chuck, for his part, was rather annoyed that his parents apparently couldn`t see his very real friend.

At age 8 he had even tried to explain to his parents that Skinny wasn`t imaginary, but in fact, a ghost (which was something that Skinny had carefully explained to him just a year ago). They hadn`t seemed to quite buy that.

~

It wasn`t until Chuck started getting older that his parents started worrying about the fact that his imaginary friend wasn`t disappearing. They began questioning him about his "friend" and Chuck didn`t like that too much. And Chuck especially didn`t like when they sent him to talk to someone about his friend. The office had been stuffy and the man had been old and had talked to him like he was some kind of baby - Chuck was ten at this point and didn`t care for that at all.

So Chuck smartened up. He stopped talking about Skinny to other people. He kept his voice low when he and Skinny were talking. Often he would take a walk in the woods, Skinny by his side, so that they could hold conversations without fear of being overhead. Sometimes he would scribble his side of the conversation in the margins of his notes or drawings, discreetly angling the paper so that Skinny could read it. 

Chuck got very good at keeping Skinny secret.

~

It was in middle school, just a year or so later, that Chuck began asking Skinny more serious questions.

As a child, he would ask Skinny things like "Are there dinosaurs in heaven?" (Chuck hadn`t been sure he wanted to go to a heaven without dinosaurs in it.) He had even asked Skinny once if God really did care if you picked your nose like Chuck`s mom had said. Skinny didn`t have answer to that but assured Chuck that it was gross and he was better off using a tissue like everyone else.

Now the questions shifted to things like;

"You were in the Army?" - "Yep. 101st Airborne. 506th. Easy Company."

"Were you ever in combat?" - "I was. Fought in World War 2."

"Did you kill people?" - "Yes."

"Where do you go when you`re not here?" - "Don`t know. Don`t remember where I`ve been once I reappear."

"Why are you a ghost?" - "Don`t know that either."

"How did you die?" 

When Chuck asked Skinny how he died, there was a long silence like Skinny was carefully chewing over his words before speaking. And once he did start speaking, it took him awhile to get through the story. He kept pausing, rubbing his hands together, shifting in his spot atop the fallen log he occupied.

"Well, you see, we were in this place. Hagenau. Ugly, cold place. It was better than where we were though. Bastogne, that`s where we had just been, you know? That was frozen over hell. Anything was better than that. Hagenau - we at least had roofs over our heads and beds to sleep in. We even got showers. Food was still awful, but at least we had some. And, well. You see... in Hagenau we had to run this patrol, right? And Shifty, my best friend, you remember me telling you about him? Well, Shifty was supposed to go on it. But he was feeling really bad. He was real sick. It was all that cold, you know? So, Shifty was supposed to go and he was feeling real bad, so I told him I`d take his place. Winters was okay with it. So I took his place. Well, on the patrol... on the patrol we had to go in this house. And. And I was lead. And Jackson, this real young kid, he was right on top of me. Could almost feel his breath on the back of my neck. And Jackson, well, he threw this grenade in the house right as I`m about to go in. Got a face full of grenade. And I survived. They got me back to the house we were staying at. I remember that. I don`t remember much, `cause of the pain, but I remember that. I remember Doc Roe, remember his hands, remember him telling me 'Alright now, Skinny. I got you. It`s alright.' And then that`s it. Don`t remember anything after that. I was just suddenly in my childhood home again. So here I am."

The next day at school, Chuck goes to the library to use the school computers there. He tries his hardest to look up Skinny, his unit, anything. There isn`t much out there, just some scant information and half illegible old Army records. But then he finds the one thing he didn`t expect - a book specifically about Skinny`s company. He writes down the book title and the author`s name on a scrap of paper he has with him. The middle school library doesn`t have the book, but he`s sure he can get his dad to take him to the town library next weekend.

~

It`s at the library that Chuck hits the proverbial jackpot. Not only does he find the book he`s looking for, but there are books by other men who served in Easy Company too. There`s even a book about Shifty, Skinny`s best friend.

Chuck checks them all out.

~

Skinny`s reaction is not quite what Chuck expected. He eyes the books with interest but remains quite, says nothing. Chuck expected at least some excitement, a little gratitude at least.

But at Chuck`s offer to read him the books out loud, Skinny merely declines with a slight shake of his head before dissolving away.

~

It would be several days before Chuck sees Skinny again. Chuck, although only twelve at the time, instinctively understands that the war is a topic that Skinny would rather avoid and so he avoids it too.

The books are returned to the library, unread.

~

Chuck leaves the topic well enough alone until his junior year of high school. He takes an AP US History class and his teacher happens to be rather fixated on the topic of World War 2. Chuck has never been so interested in a class before. He listens with rapt attention, delves whole-heartedly in to the readings, and even chooses to do his final paper on the Battle of the Bulge.

He carefully keeps this all away from Skinny, of course. Although, the more Chuck learns, the greater the itch is to ask Skinny questions. But Skinny has been his best friend for almost eleven years now and Chuck knows the topic is painful, so he bites his tongue.

Skinny notices of course. He notices the history books that Chuck hides away in his backpack. He notices the internet tabs opened to sites on World War 2 that are hurriedly closed when Skinny appears. He notices how Chuck practically doubles himself over papers that he`s working on, as if to hide the assignments from Skinny. Skinny might be a ghost, but he`s not dumb.

~

It`s winter break of Chuck`s senior year of high school when Skinny asks Chuck to sit down with him for a long overdue conversation. Chuck`s parents are away at some conference or other and it`s just Chuck and Skinny alone in the house. The wind howls outside as a blizzard blows through -the world beyond the four walls of the house is barely visible thanks to the whirlwind of white. Chuck can tell the weather unsettles Skinny in some way. It always does.

There is a long stretch of silence after they take their seats - Chuck curled under a blanket on the sofa, Skinny sitting in the recliner across from him, leg bouncing a million miles per hour. Chuck lets the quiet goes on for as long as it has to. Skinny will talk when he`s ready. Chuck need only be patient.

And when Skinny finally breaks the silence that has been dragging on for a handful of minutes and begins his story, Chuck sits stock still and listens intently. He knows better than to interrupt.

~

When Skinny finishes telling Chuck everything - why he joined the paratroopers, the training at Toccoa, the friends he made, the friends he lost, the terror of war, what it felt like to take another`s life - Skinny seems different somehow. Lighter. Relieved almost.

But still. Chuck`s gut says there`s something else. Perhaps it`s the way Skinny`s face scrunches or the quick flash of... worry? guilt?... that passes over Skinny`s face. But Chuck knows better than to push.

Skinny will talk when he`s ready.

~

Skinny is perched on the desk in Chuck`s room as Chuck packs. Chuck can tell Skinny is anxious from the way he chews on his bottom lip. Truth be told, Chuck is a bit anxious too. Well. Perhaps more than a bit anxious.

When they had moved in oh so many years ago, the house had stood abandoned (except for a handful of squatters here and there) since the early fifties. Skinny`s family had been the last ones to properly live there. Except, of course, for Skinny. Although Chuck wasn`t sure the word "living" could be applied to Skinny`s situation.

Skinny had been alone for decades before the the Grants moved in. And now here Chuck was, the only person of their little family who could see Skinny, packing to go away to college.

The plan was for Skinny to attempt to follow Chuck. In the beginning it had seemed that Skinny was restricted to the house and surrounding property. But over the years, Skinny slowly gained the ability to follow Chuck places and would pop up at school (test days were a lot easier when you had a ghost whispering you the answers), weddings (much less boring with a ghost friend in tow), and even a funeral (admittedly a bit of an awkward thing to attend with a ghost). The thing was despite accompanying him on hikes and grocery trips and ice cream runs, Skinny had never been able to follow Chuck more than a few counties over. And the college that Chuck was attending was definitely more than a few counties over.

The thought of Skinny not being able to follow him, of having to leave Skinny alone, made Chuck`s chest tighten with worry and even a bit of guilt. He crossed his fingers that his theory proved accurate - as time went on Skinny was becoming more attached to Chuck than to the house (which would be an unsettling theory if the ghost was anyone but Skinny). It had been a couple of years since Chuck had gone beyond Skinny`s boundaries. This would be the ultimate test.

~

Chuck held his breath the day he moved in to the dorms. He was waiting for some sign of Skinny. The hours wore on - he unpacked, met his roommate, walked the campus with his parents, and even had dinner with them. Still no Skinny. Chuck could feel his heart sinking as the sun began to go down. His stomach twisted at the thought of how Skinny would be all alone again, save for the times Chuck visited home.

His roommate dragged him out to a party later that night. Chuck wasn`t all too fond of his roommate or the party but he went anyway. What else is a kid supposed to do during his first night at college?

~

The next morning - mid morning really - Chuck woke up to discover his roommate (John? Jake?) was already long gone. Groaning, he buried his face in his pillow. Yep, he had definitely had too much to drink if the hammering in his head was any indication.

"Already having too much fun? Come on now, Chuck. I can`t even leave you for a day anymore."

Chuck`s head whipped up, far too fast for the likes of the throbbing in his skull, at the sound of the familiar teasing voice.

Skinny had made it.

~

Chuck had been right it turns out - Skinny had slowly become more attached to him than to the house over the years. And during Chuck`s freshman year of college, the two of them take full advantage of this fact.

Skinny tags along to amusement parks and museums and bars and parties. He follows Chuck to the library and to football games and hockey games and baseball games. At Skinny`s request, Chuck even goes to the zoo and the aquarium - Skinny always wanted to see penguins and tigers. 

Freshman year and the subsequent summer are non stop adventures for the duo. They were constantly heading one place or another, sometimes with other people in tow, sometimes just the two of them.

Skinny does more in that one year than he had in the several decades preceding.

~

That summer, Chuck decides to get an apartment instead of moving back in to the dorms. Of course, Chuck knows that he`ll need to get a roommate in order to swing rent, so he looks on the college`s "Roommates Wanted" Facebook page. And that is where he meets Floyd Talbert.

"What if he`s crazy?"

"He`s not."

"You don`t know that."

"Well, I talk to a ghost so if either of us is crazy, it`s probably me."

~

Turns out Floyd prefers to be called Tab. Also, turns out that he and Chuck make fast friends. 

They meet a couple times that summer before officially agreeing to become roommates. After grabbing lunch for the second time, Chuck decides Tab seems like an okay guy. Skinny, thankfully, agrees. 

~

As sophomore year gets under way and the months start to turn cooler, Chuck wrestles with a very important decision. In just a few short months, Tab had quickly become one of the closest friends Chuck had ever had (the other being Skinny). And with Skinny being such an important part of Chuck`s life, it began feeling odd to leave Tab in the dark. 

But... how exactly do you go about telling your new best friend that you`ve been haunted by the ghost of a WW2 paratrooper since you were six? And that said paratrooper was your absolute best friend? And that said paratrooper was also currently a third, albeit invisible, roommate in the tiny apartment that you and your actually alive friend share?

Chuck could already tell it was going to be an awkward conversation.

~

"Wait. You`re actually serious?"

"Yeah, I am."

"So you`re telling me, very seriously, that the ghost of some dude who died in World War 2 has been haunting you since you were a little kid? And he`s now like, attached to you? And that doesn't hit you as creepy? At all?"

"Well, to be fair, I did move in to his childhood bedroom. He was sorta there first. And Skinny`s not creepy. If you could just meet him, you`d-"

"But I can`t. Because he`s dead."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence stretched between them before Tab finally spoke again.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you don`t want me to think you`re crazy, prove there`s a ghost here. Have him... I don`t know... open the cabinets, slam doors, stack chairs, you know - go full poltergeist."

"Uhh.." Chuck hesitated. Skinny could do exactly none of those things. Hell, it had taken the better part of several years just to get Skinny to the point where he could move a lightweight cup the incredibly impressive distance of an inch.

"Hold on." Chuck went to the cupboard and pulled out the lightest cup he could find - a neon orange plastic thing with the name of a bar and a handful of scantily clad women printed on it. Setting it down on the counter between him and Tab, he took a step back.

"Skinny, can you move the cup please?"

Chuck watched the corners of Skinny`s mouth turn down ever so slightly as he stepped forward.

"I`ll do my best, kid."

There is nothing but silence in the room as a small eternity passes before the cup begins to move. Slowly, slowly, it creeps to the left just about an inch. Chuck lets out a small breath of relief that Skinny was able to do it.

"That`s it?"

Chuck throws a glare at the fully unimpressed Tab, "It`s not like the movies, okay? It took him a long time just to learn how to do that!"

"Alright, fine. He really can`t do anything else?"

"No, he-" And that`s when Chuck has a brilliant idea.

"Okay, how about this? Write something on a piece of paper and hold it so that someone reading over your shoulder can read it. Skinny`ll tell me what it says."

"Okay," Tab shrugs, obviously still not fully buying the whole Chuck-has-a-ghost-friend deal. Still, he grabs a pen and paper and does as instructed.

"This is fucking stupid."

"I know, Skinny. But can you just tell me what it says?"

"That`s what it says: This is fucking stupid."

Chuck snorts and repeats the phrase. He doesn`t miss the quick flash of surprise on Tab`s face. And then the games begin.

Tab has Chuck wear a blindfold. Chuck still gets the words correct. 

Tab has Chuck sit in another room. Chuck gets the words correct again.

Tab has Chuck sit in another room while blindfolded. Chuck is correct yet again.

Eventually, Tab admits defeat. 

"Alright,  so there`s a ghost named, of all things, Skinny, here."

"Well, his name`s technically Wayne but he prefers to be called Skinny."

"Right. Well, please tell Skinny that I say hi and that it`s nice to meet him. Well, sort of meet him."

"Please tell Tab that I`m dead, not deaf. I can hear his loudmouth just fine."

~

It`s a bit of a relief now that Tab knows about Skinny. Chuck doesn`t have to keep such a large secret from Tab anymore and he can even talk to Skinny out loud now when Tab is home.

It proves to be a bit of an adjustment on Tab`s part but he eventually gets the hang of deciphering when Chuck is talking to him and when Chuck is talking to Skinny. He even gets used to talking to Skinny through Chuck. Too used to it, one might say.

"Hey, Skinny, can you walk through walls?" 

There`s a beat before Chuck replies with Skinny`s answer, "Yes."

"Skinny, was there like a white light when you died?"

Again, another beat before Chuck repeats Skinny`s answer for the non-ghost-vision-inclined, "Not that I remember, sorry."

"Hey, Skinny, what`s jumping out of a plane like?"

"Hey, did you have Cheerios in the 1940s?"

"Skinny, did you have tv as a kid?"

"Did you eat pizza in the 40s? Did they deliver?"

"What`s your favorite decade so far?"

"What do you miss the most about being alive?"

"What`s the best part about being a ghost?"

"Are you ever offended by scary ghost stereotypes? What about when people wear sheets and pretend to be ghosts?"

"Have you ever met another ghost?"

Tab`s questions were un-ending from the moment he accepted Skinny`s existence as a fact. Chuck occasionally considered smothering Tab with a pillow just to get a break from his ghost interpreter job for five damn minutes.

~

It`s a bright and cold winter morning when Tab asks what turns out to be a very important question, "Are any of your soldier buddies still alive?"

"I don`t know."

"He doesn`t know," Chuck relays the answer to Tab.

"Do you want to know?"

Skinny is quiet for a long moment.

"I don`t know."

~

Tab`s the one who finds out about the living members of Easy. There aren`t many - just a handful left - and only one that`s close by.

"You`re stalker skills are... concerning."

"Research skills. And they weren`t that hard to find."

Skinny is off doing whatever it is ghosts do when they aren`t visible, so it`s just Tab and Chuck  holed up in the university library doing homework. Well, Chuck is doing homework. Tab is apparently tracking down WW2 veterans.

"Whatever you say. Don`t know why you`re so dead set on this. We don`t even know if Skinny will even want to see any of them."

"Well, his soul has to be hanging around for a reason, right? Maybe he needs closure. And then he can move on, you know, in to the white light and all that jazz."

Chuck makes a soft mmm sound in the back of his throat as he turns back to his chemistry textbook.

"You do want him to move on, don`t you?"

Chuck doesn`t respond because he doesn`t know the answer. Sure, Skinny has been around long enough. He deserves to move on. But...

~

That night as Chuck is laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, he`s plagued by memories - 

He`s just a kid, legs barely long enough to reach the pedals of his bike. His parents told him to wait, told him he wasn`t tall enough for the big kid bike yet, wasn`t ready to ride a bike without training wheels. It`s a hot summer day, sweat glues his shirt to him, as he gets up after falling from the bike yet again. Skinny is there. Encouraging him, giving him tips, telling him he can do it if he just tries one more time. Chuck goes home that night, just as the sun is going down, with scraped up knees and a new found ability to ride a big kid bike.

He`s eight years old and his parents are fighting. It`s loud and angry and scary and unlike any fight Chuck has ever heard before. Skinny convinces Chuck to sneak outside. It`s pouring out but Skinny swears worm hunting is best when it`s pouring buckets. Skinny talks the entire time - non stop and loudly - it`s very unlike Skinny. But between the rain crashing down and Skinny`s incessant chatter, Chuck can`t hear a word of his parents' shouting.

It`s ninth grade and Chuck is struggling to remember the answer to number ten on his science test. He`s already answered everything else on the test and he knows that this last answer is buried somewhere in his brain, if only he could just drag it to the surface. His face is crinkled in frustration and he chews at his bottom lip. Skinny quietly steps in and gently prods him towards the right answer. When Chuck gets the graded test back, there`s a bright red "A" on top.

Chuck crashes his car during his senior year of high school. Chuck is fine, the car not so much. The little junker car Chuck had worked so hard to save up for is totaled and Chuck takes the loss hard. Skinny stays up all night long with Chuck that night. He tells Chuck jokes and funny stories. He even tells Chuck about the time he got caught on the train tracks with a girl and his response to Sobel when questioned about it - “The train was coming, she was coming, and so was I.” Chuck cracked a smile for the first time that day.

~

The next morning, Chuck has officially made up his mind. As much as he doesn`t want Skinny to go, as much as he doesn`t want to risk losing his best friend, Skinny has more than earned the right to find some peace.

It`s just the two of them at the breakfast table. Tab, who doesn`t get up before 10 am unless there is an emergency, is still sound asleep. It`s the perfect opportunity for a long overdue talk.

"Hey Skinny?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, we, uh, did some research, and some of your old company is still alive."

Skinny looks at him curiously and says nothing.

"Winters is alive. And Malarkey. Guarnere and Heffron too. And, uh," Chuck hesitates because he knows the weight of the next name, it`s the weight of a best friend left behind, the weight of someone he died in place of, "Shifty`s alive too. Not far from here. Less than an hour, actually."

The look on Skinny`s face is one that Chuck can`t name and Chuck can`t help but worry that he made the wrong decision in telling him about Shifty as Skinny slowly fades from view.

~

Chuck doesn`t see Skinny again until the next day. He simply appears from thin air next to Chuck during his morning lecture.

"I want to see Shifty."

Chuck nods and Skinny disappears again.

~

The day that they pile in to Tab`s car and drive the 45 minutes to the Powers residence, there isn`t a plan really. 

The car is packed with tension filled silence as they finally pull up in front of Shifty`s house. It`s a modest but inviting looking home on an unpaved back road. The neighborhood consists of more trees than houses, making their presence conspicuous. 

The three of them sit quietly in the car, gazing at the house, unsure of what to do next. The silence only seems to grow thicker before Skinny finally speaks up.

"Can I... can we... go talk to him?"

"Yeah, okay."

Chuck isn`t sure how this is going to work exactly. Knocking on some elderly man`s door and telling him his best friend who died decades ago is currently a ghost that would like to speak to him, isn`t your standard conversation. But he owes it to Skinny to try. So he slowly gets out of the car and makes his way to the house, Tab and Skinny in tow. 

The bundle of nerves in Chuck`s stomach threatens to swallow him whole as he knocks on the door. An older man wearing a button down shirt and tidy tan slacks, who Chuck assumes can only be Shifty, answers the door.

"May I help you?" The man`s voice is surprisingly soft. Far from the grizzled harsh voice of a veteran that Chuck was expecting.

"Uh, yes sir. My name is Chuck, Chuck Grant, and this is my friend, Floyd Talbert. We`re here because, well, I moved in to the childhood home of your friend, Skinny, and turns out he was still there. His spirit, I mean, and-"

A dark look crosses the older man`s face, "Now, I don`t have time for these kind of jokes. They ain`t very funny." He begins to close the door and Chuck puts his hand out to stop him.

"Please sir," Chuck shoots a desperate looking at Skinny, quietly pleading for some direction.

"Say... say 'remember when we stole Dike`s chocolate ration and gave it to Doc 'cause he was looking real bad'!"

Chuck hurriedly repeats the words to Shifty, whose mouth drops open a little as he hears what Chuck is saying.

"Now, who told you about that? Skinny and I were the only ones who knew where we got that chocolate from."

"I`m telling you sir, Skinny is here. His ghost is. Right here, on your porch, next to me."

"Tell him 'I never did get to take your sister out dancing'.'"

As Chuck repeats after Skinny, he can see something click behind Shifty`s eyes. Maybe it`s the words he says or maybe it`s the desperate, pleading look on Chuck`s face or maybe it`s both of those things combined, Chuck doesn`t know, but Shifty seems to soften.

"You ain`t lyin', are you?." And with that, Shifty invites them inside.

~

"Skinny used to joke that when we got home, he was goin' to take my sister out dancin' and she`d fall in love with him and he was goin' to be my brother-in-law." Shifty smiles fondly at the memory as he recalls it.

They`re all  sitting in Shifty`s living room now, cups of coffee in hand.

It`s awkward at first but it seems that Skinny and Shifty easily fall back in to their old banter despite the odd barrier of one of them being technically dead and having to speak through a third party.

~

Track of time is easily lost that day. Stories and jokes and memories are exchanged without end. In a way, Skinny feels more alive than he has in a very, very long time.

The sun is just disappearing beyond the horizon when Skinny says something that he`s wanted to say for decades. He carefully tells Chuck the exact words to say.

"Skinny says he doesn`t regret it, the patrol. He doesn`t regret going on that patrol for a second. He needs you to know that because he knows how you are, how you`ve probably felt guilty about that this whole time. He says he doesn`t want you to feel guilty. He`s never blamed you and he doesn`t want you blaming yourself. He`d take your place on that patrol even if he knew what was going to happen."

There`s quiet after Chuck finishes speaking. There are tears glistening in Shifty`s eyes and they began to roll down his cheeks as he shoulders began to softly shake.

"Thank you, Skinny."

~

An hour or so later, when they finally begin to leave, Shifty presses something in to Chuck`s hand.

Chuck looks down at what Shifty has given him. It`s an old photograph of a young paratrooper, a giant grin splashed across his face. He recognizes Skinny immediately.

"Shifty, I can`t-"

"Hush now. I want you to have it. You`ve done more for me today than I can ever explain."

Shifty shakes Chuck`s hand with an unexpected amount of strength and something in Chuck`s gut tells him this is the last time he`ll ever speak to Shifty.

~

The ride home is quiet but unlike the tension filled silence of the ride to Shifty`s house, this quiet is a peaceful one. A weight has been lifted and everyone in the car, especially Skinny and Chuck, can feel it.

~

Chuck is out like a light almost as soon as he walks through the door of their apartment. Being the go between for the living and the dead is a surprisingly exhausting job.

Skinny quietly watches Chuck sleep - Chuck, who he has watched grow up, who has become like Skinny`s own flesh and blood. He smiles softly, grateful for the second chance at family that he received, so long after his own family had died out.

He can feel something like a light tugging sensation and he knows it`s time. Some part of him understands that he`s free to move on now, to leave this world behind finally, and move on to the next.

Chuck is out cold and Skinny has no desire to wake him. There is no need for this to be any harder than it has to be.

"Love you, kid. Be good." Chuck can hear him, at least some part of him can. Skinny knows it.

~

When Chuck wakes up the next morning, he knows almost immediately that Skinny is gone. There is an emptiness that Chuck has never felt until now. Before, even when Skinny disappeared from sight, it was like Chuck could feel his presence - it was a warm, familiar thing. But this morning, there is nothing. Nothing but the faint impression of a goodbye residing in his mind like a fuzzy, worn out photo.

~

There`s an article in the local newspaper a few days later - WW2 Vet, "Shifty Powers", Passed Away. It`s not a headline most people would smile at. But Chuck does. 

Shifty and Skinny will finally get to see each other face to face again.

~

Shifty`s funeral is a large affair. Beloved by the entire community, he is mourned by entire crowds of people.

Chuck is the only one to feel the loss of Skinny.

It`s an odd thing to be the only one mourning the loss of someone - to be the only one to know that someone was even gone. Sure, there was Tab, but he had never really "met" Skinny - he had only ever interacted with him through Chuck.

No, the loss of Skinny was Chuck`s loss to bear alone. 

~

It`s been months now since Skinny moved on. Chuck still feels the pang of loss, although the pain becomes less sharp as each day passes.

Sophomore year is almost over now and Chuck takes a seat at his desk to get started on his final paper for the creative writing elective he signed up for. The final paper is supposed to be an original story and the professor has given them free reign to write on any topic they want.

Chuck has decided to write a ghost story, of sorts - a ghost story about someone, barely out of their teen years, who loses his life fighting a war an ocean away, and takes a dirt-covered little kid under his wing decades later. The words come easy, flowing almost effortlessly, as he writes. He pours every little bit of love, of sadness, of grief, he has into the paragraphs. In many ways, what he writes is a memorial to his dear lost friend.

Watching over Chuck`s progress from atop the bookshelf behind him, is a black and white photograph of a smiling young paratrooper, now housed in a simple black frame, a little green Army man with a patched up parachute standing guard next to it.

[yesilikenct]

it is you

summary: his eyes met yours and he knew. he knew you would be his downfall. but did it really matter?

♛ kingdom! au  → crown prince taeyong ; gisaeng reader  

genre: fluff

warning: allusion of non consensual sex; please note that gisaengs were slaves, that they belonged to the government or scholars, and most of them inherited their status from their mother. keep in mind that, even though i tried my best to find proper informations to write on this subject, i can always be wrong.

glossary:  

gisaeng: highly-trained artist woman in ancient Korea offering artistic entertainment (music, dance, poetry...) or conversation to men of upper class. could serve in the royal court, though lower-ranked gisaengs served as prostitutes. (- thoughtco.com + wikipedia)

hanbok: korean traditional clothes

❝ part I ❞

crown prince taeyong roamed the royal palace aimlessly, with a blank expression on his face. he was not feeling too well that day, but decided going for a walk would make him feel better. he was tired of always being followed by his eunuch and numerous servants, but there was no way he could dismiss them. because then, they would report it to the king and he did not want to stir up any kind of conflict. his father was rather strict and would become suspicious immediately.

prince taeyong looked around and realized he was getting closer to the entrance of the palace. it was beautiful as always, the morning sun shining over the colored housings and the faint autumn breeze hitting his face. 

that’s when he saw you. 

and he swore it was his first time seeing a woman so beautiful. you were standing there, in your red and blue hanbok, skirt adorned by gildings, and wearing your oh so big headdress. 

he stared at you, completely numb from the sight. he could feel his cheeks redden and his heart beating faster. what was it? what was this feeling? prince taeyong had never been like this before. even reading delicate poems from his favorite authors would not bring him to this state. and then, you turned around, your gaze meeting his. he looked flustered, and you were surprised. was it really the crown prince?... without further thoughts, you bowed to him instantly, other gisaengs doing the same but the young man looked away quickly, clearing his throat.

“do not mind me, i am only passing by.”

and on that note, he was gone like the wind.

a few days passed and all prince taeyong could think about was you. he was full of regrets. he deeply wanted to know your name as he was haunted by your thought. he knew your status, your clothes giving it away instantly, but it did not matter to him. he could only think about your life and how it must not be easy all the time. you had to be at the service of men and in the worst cases, you might even had to go as far as have sexual intercourse with them... because that was your “duty”. it was so unfair. and he was so upset that someone as beautiful as you would have to be in this position. he remembered your smile as you were talking to your acquaintances. the smile that made his whole mind completely void of thoughts. he needed to find you. fast.

you, on the other hand, were still thinking about his appearance. you had seen many officials, many men in general, in your life but him... it was your first time seeing him. his highness taeyong, known to be the most handsome man of the capital, the crown prince of the country, but also the most intelligent and sweet person in the world. that is usually how people in the court described him. his servants always spoke fondly of him, describing how he was always respectful and how he would treat them better than anyone else in the palace. but you had never witnessed him in person before. he truly left a deep impression in your heart. somewhere it should not have. 

weeks had gone by, now. your routine was roughly the same. you would meet government officials at the royal court like the old minister kim, or, if you were lucky, the 3rd and 4th princes of the royal family would pay you a secret visit to the gisaeng house. along with other gisaengs, you would serve them alcohol, listen to them, read them poems, and so on. it really depended on the mood of your guests, and on some occasions, you had to have intercourses with them. your life had always been like that, but sometimes you felt exhausted of it.

tonight was not different from any other night. you made your way through the corridors of the lively house, heading to a room where you had been called. surprisingly enough, someone wanted to see you... alone. you knocked softly, and was greeted by a voice you had never heard before. it was not too masculine, but not feminine either, and laced with shyness.

“come in...”

the moment you stepped in the room, your body stopped unconsciously. you had to keep a neutral face on but your mind was racing. how did he find you?

“your highness...”

the crown prince was here, sat in front of you. he smiled gently at your immediate bow. you, on the other hand, waited for further instruction.

“you... you can come and have a seat.”

it clearly showed in his voice that he was not a regular guest. actually, it was his first time being in a place like this. since he had always been the crown prince, his father the king would always watch his every movements so, compared to his brothers, it was impossible for him to escape the palace secretly. plus, he really had no interest in women keeping him company either. however, during the past few weeks, he figured out the only way to find you was to actually go somewhere you would be. and it was not too difficult to know where, since there was only one gisaeng house in the capital. dressed as a noble man, he had came many times before witnessing you once in the garden of the house, playing an instrument. that is when he asked for your name and no one had recognized him, thankfully. now, he had you in front of you, and he was very scared you might think he was approaching you with ill intentions.

you went to sit to his right, pouring him a glass of alcohol. 

“what can i do for you, your highness?”

prince taeyong looked at you, a little dumbfounded.

“what do you usually do here, miss?”

you were startled by his unfamiliar question. “it really is his first time here”, you thought. the young prince saw the surprise in your eyes, mistaking it as discomfort, and got flustered. was it inappropriate?

“forgive me for this question. i am just really unsure of what i should ask you.”

“i can do whatever you want me to do, your highness...” you replied, smiling lightly at his now shifty eyes. 

“what are you good at then?” he asked, drinking the glass in front of him.

“it is not for me to say...”  you stated as you poured him a second glass. “may i share a poem with your highness?” 

he looked at you, his doe eyes sparkling. you had heard somewhere that prince taeyong was enamored with literature, and that is why you had suggested it. 

“please do.” he said quietly. 

and as the night went by, your tender voice lulled his mind.

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author’s note: i’m so sorry if there is any mistakes, or if it’s not too well written. i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. i’ll post part 2 tomorrow. <3 thank you for reading!

[himbowelsh]

Hello Darling! I just read the valentines alphabet you wrote for Shifty and omg I absolutely loved it! So, if it’s not too much to ask, may I request the same for Bull Randleman? Thank you and have a wonderful weekend 💛

@noneofurbusinez asked:   balentines balphabet for my man bull blease ,,,

here’s the big boy

valentines day alphabet  ( accepting! )

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

Bull’s love language is very much acts of service, so that’s what he’ll do, all the time. He’ll fix something before the person he cares about realizes it’s broken; he’ll do favors, help them with simple tasks without saying a word, and generally be there when needed. He’s not too liberal with words or touch, so Bull says everything through what he does. If he’s really feeling affectionate, he’s got a tiny smile that could melt butter, and only the people closest to him have it directed at them.

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

He enjoys flowers in a purely aesthetic sense, but could name...  daisies and roses, probably. That’s it. He likes them, but does not understand them. The sort of man to pick a lone-ass flower and give to someone, like that’s an acceptable thing. It’s kind of cute, but also goofy. (He’s always had a soft spot for buttercups.

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

If he is hungry, and a chocolate bar is in front of him, he will eat it, but there are about two dozen snacks he’d enjoy a lot more.

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Give him a country fair and some carnival games any day. Watch him win everything, eat multiple corn cobs, go on the ferris wheel just because it’s his favorite, and have a lovely night. If he’s got good company with him, well, that’s all the better.

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

It’s like hugging a bear, but...  in the best way. Bull gives Dad Hugs. Absolutely reassuring, wraps you up completely, kind of hard to breathe but it feels good...  if Bull Randleman’s hugging someone, a bomb could drop directly on their heads, and they’d be perfectly safe. Nothing can get through a Bull Hug. People miss it after it’s done.

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

Umm...  flirt? Bull? Bull flirt? Nah, man, he...  he’s, uhh...  he’s a big guy. He’s got eyes. He can make eye contact sometimes. That’s the best he’s got. This man flirts like a brick.

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Look. Bull’s out here trying, okay? He really does put a lot of thought into gifts, because it’s important that he gets something his loved one is going to appreciate. This does not make him a...  “good” gift giver. Bull’s gifts tend to be very practical, very small  ---  he’s not going out to buy jewelry or putting a bow on anything, because he will have no idea what he’s doing. Somebody needs new oil for their car, or they’ve been looking for grill charcoal? Someone wants a particular shade of paint but has no clue where to get it? Bull will get it for them, and paint their house on top of that. Honestly, he’s better at doing things than giving things, so his gifts tend to be favors.

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

For Bull Randleman to fall in love, he first has to trust someone completely. That’s no easy feat. He also needs respect in a relationship, and if he hasn’t built that up, he can’t really give his heart to anyone.

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Shhh. Nah. He’s maybe said it...  four times??  In as many years, once he’s been in a long-term relationship. Possible less than that. Bull doesn’t say “I love you”, he shows it. If he’s not able to do that, then he doesn’t deserve to love the person he loves.

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

He’s really not a jealous guy. If someone tries to flirt with his partner, he’ll be overall unimpressed by it, and step in if needed, but he’s not hot blooded like certain people he knows.

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

Shy boy. Unexpectedly shy, but he doesn’t have a lot of experience. This is the one time when he doesn’t quite know what to do with...  all of himself. There’s a lot of Bull, and when you’re kissing you have to know exactly how to move, how to match your rhythm with someone else’s...  he’s a bit of a clumsy kisser, and would appreciate someone else taking the lead. Quite soft, won’t use tongue at first; prefers to put hands on his partner’s upper back / shoulders; if he can lift them up and put them on top of something, like a tabletop, so they’re at an equal height, that’s just perfect. Not above lifting his partner up while they’re kissing.

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

His Mama has to take first place here, forever and always. Bull would move mountains for that woman. He’s very devoted to his family overall; he’s got friends he’d drop anything just to help. In general, when Bull decides to love someone, it’s long-lasting and steady. He’s not fickle with his affections, and definitely not into second-guessing. Even when they say hurtful things or quarrel, he won’t stop loving them.

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   is morning or night a more romantic setting?

He’s a morning person. Always has been, always will be. There’s something about early morning that Bull just finds peaceful, and he’d love to share it with someone he cares about.

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

Again, you gotta understand...  there’s a lot of Bull to go around. And he knows what to do with exactly none of it! At first, he’s definitely uncertain of himself, prefering to let his partner take the lead and guide him how they want. A very physical lover; all about body movements, instinct and rhythm; breathes heavily. As he gets more into it, he’ll gain enthusiasm; at this point, he can sometimes get rough without meaning to, though he tries to be mindful of it. Once Bull works his confidence up, he becomes quite an intense lover. This is an intimate experience for him, and he wants to savour the sensations...  but he’ll always be focused on his partner, to ensure they’re enjoying it too.

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

He has a way with word. As in, like...  one word. He can shoot out monosyllabic answers really well. Bull’s not a talkative guy  ---   very much an “talk less, do more” type.

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Well, he’d like someone shorter than him  ---  that’s not hard  ---  preferably someone he can pick up easily. He wants someone...  gentle isn’t the right word, but someone who’ll be gentle with him. At the same time, not someone delicate, who’ll break easily. If they know their way around a horse, that’s downright perfect. He’s got a thing for eyes  ---  expressive ones, eyes that dance, eyes that laugh, eyes that sometimes tease. He likes brown ones most of all. And any partner Bull chooses is going to have to be way more talkative than him, sorry  ---  while he doesn’t dislike silence, he also enjoys having that silence filled, and not having to carry a conversation is a massive weight off his shoulders. He’s more than happy to just listen to the person he loves chatter, smiling benignly at their thoughts.

Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He’s neutral either way. While he wouldn’t mind if his partner asked him first, if he’d already decided he wanted to marry this person, he’d definitely muse on different ways to do it. Nothing elaborate, that’s not Bull’s style  ---   maybe a proposal during a quiet countryside walk, or after going for a swim, or even at the end of a big day, during the quiet moment when all the festivities are dying down. Bull wouldn’t make a scene out of it; his proposal would be simple, soft, and very sincere.

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

Not a cynic at all. He’s a practical guy, but he’s got a tiny romantic streak buried deep down in there. A part of Bull just really liked the idea of getting to love someone. He’s lowkey about it, but has a definite romantic side.

S   :   SWEETHEART.   did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

He had a crush on a little girl in his class  ---  Wendy something-or-other  ---  for a solid few months, because she had beautiful red curls, tied up in bouncy pig tails. Honestly, Bull might have been more in love with her hair than Wendy herself, but they promised to marry each other under the oak tree outside school. Wendy got cold feet the next week, broke it off, and gave Bull back the straw ring he made for her. It didn’t break his heart, but it taught him a valuable lesson: never fall for anyone just because they’ve got nice hair.

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

Nah. That sort of thing belongs in fairy tales. Love has to build itself up in order to really matter.

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

Bull’s heart is like a slab of steak. Very beefy, very tender. He doesn’t give it away easily, but it would break easier than he likes to admit. Hasn’t happened yet, because he hasn’t found the right person to hurt him yet.

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

Honestly? Not a fan. Look, if Bull wants to go on a date, he’ll go on a date  ---  they can do that any night of the year. If his partner’s into Valentine’s Day, he’ll try to make it special, but otherwise he doesn’t have a problem ignoring the holiday.

W  :   WEDDING.   would your muse get married? why / why not?

Yes! This is actually something he feels quite strongly about. He wants to have a traditional relationship/marriage; he would really like to be a husband one day, to have a ring on his finger and dote on his spouse. It’s not about starting a family for Bull (he doesn’t have any strong feelings about having kids, though he’d be a great dad) but very much about...  stability. About someone loving him enough to tie the knot. and getting to love someone that much in return. It’s hard for him to articulate, but he’d really want to get married.

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

He’s not really the pet name type...  so on the rare occasions he does use them (simple one’s  ---  “darlin’” is his go-to) it stands out that much more.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

Look, no one’s gonna mess with Bull. He’s a big dude with a withering stare, and could probably flip most people over his shoulder without trying. Bull doesn’t need to put on a show; if someone’s messing with the people he cares about, he’ll stare them down, decimate them with a well-timed remark, and that’s usually all it takes to break up the situation. Not afraid to use the old “arm-around-the-shoulder” trick to show he means business.

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

Not many! He’s a conservative guy in bed  ---  he’d prefer one steady partner whom he knows well to a series of strangers. He probably had a girlfriend or two when he was younger, but even then they didn’t do it much; Bull was quite careful, and always respectful.

[mercurygray]

For the intimacy post, 14 for Irene and Shifty? She's a pretty quiet lady, I want to know more about her

Dick Winters was surveying the troops.

They were on the longer leg of their train journey north, the car gently rocking back and forth as they rode on through the cool quiet of the Appalachians. Most of the men were sleeping, sprawled over seats and spreading out into aisles, hats tipped over eyes, coats unbuttoned. Here and there a lone figure snored. It pleased him, what he saw as he went from car to car - unafraid of their fellow travelers, they slept as one, puppies in one enormous, drawn-out heap. It was a long way from those first days at Toccoa, when they’d scorned the sight of each other, breaking out into fights over baseball teams.

Birds of a feather would flock together - even if they were all in matching olive drab. It seemed only natural that Easy Company’s Italians should adopt Doris into their group even if she was from Chicago, as she was mouthy and loud and able to give as good as she got. Ruth, too, became part of this crowd, a city girl who could dish her own and wasn’t above throwing the first punch. Webster, the odd college man out in a field of high school educations, mooned a little after Molly, who had both finished her degree and worked in her field, but found a comrade in Billie, who like him scorned the white glove and country club attitude of her parents. 

Lipton, Martin and Marjorie, the oldsters of the group, formed a loose confederation of cool-headed common sense under their sergeants’ stripes. Skip Muck took Connie, a fellow midwesterner who said what she meant, under his wing, and soon Alex Penkala was her friend, too. Julie earned George Luz’s undying respect when she disassembled a field telephone in the middle of an exercise to remove debris that was causing a poor connection. (She also laughed at George’s jokes, which was a plus in his book.) Town seemed to go with town, country with country. They shared their favorite books, their games, boyfriends and girlfriends, likes and dislikes. Tiny knots of family had formed under a larger banner - everyone in it together, but those precious few somehow beyond, folks for whom you’d go an extra mile or give your last smoke. And those knots would hold this team together.

The army seemed a strange place for quiet dreamers - and for some even stranger reason, Easy Company had two. Irene Henderson had spent her childhood pumping gas in a tiny town in Tennessee and knew the world only from the cars passing by on their way to other places, their discarded newspapers and magazines and maps bridges to a world entirely unlike her own, where buildings were taller than trees and the only things that be described as mountainous were skyscrapers, and music came off of a record player, and not out of the mouths of the people you were with. She was one of the few recruits who’d known poison ivy when they were doing their camouflage exercise, saving more than a couple of the fellows from a nasty case of itching. Separated from Doris, her usual partner, for the exercise, she’d been paired off with Shifty. 

Shifty Powers, who had played high school basketball at home in Virginia and grown up with a gun in his hand, to whom shooting was as natural as breathing but who wore the mantle of the battalion’s best shot with humility.  Sobel had thought that his two quiet ones might silence themselves into failure if forced to work together - and he could not have been more wrong. They were natural allies. It was Shifty and Irene whom no one could find in the tall grass, and they might have stayed there all night in silent glee if Sobel hadn’t cursed them out and demanded to know where they were. Shifty was teaching Irene the higher mechanics of good shooting form, and Irene was teaching Shifty how to sing, which he was becoming good at, and, by extension, to talk to girls, which he was not. 

Now they were headed off to war, and down at the end of one car, Shifty’s head was on Irene’s shoulder, looking (except for their uniforms) like two sleepy kids catching the train home, propped together for mutual support. That, at least, made Dick smile, if a little sadly. Two kids. They were all kids. 

Across the aisle, Harry and Joan were playing a quiet and oddly animated game of War, throwing cards on the case they’d propped between them without saying a single word. Harry won the last hand with a flash of exuberation in his hands, and Joan rolled her eyes and silently declined another game, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. Harry flashed the deck of cards at Dick, who shook his head. Harry shrugged and began dealing a game of solitaire, letting his friend resume the seat across the aisle and close his own eyes.

It would be a long night, and a long day ahead. They would need their sleep.