#it’s not unfounded it happened before and I forever worry it’ll happen again

[finniestoncrane]

this is going somewhere better in my new house than just the kitchen but it felt nice to move it in!!

i’m feeling very sensitive lately, very paranoid. it’s all because of the move and the transitions and changes, i’ll get past it!! and the things i can’t get past i just have to come to terms with!!

i’ll always be a little bit nervous, i’ll always struggle with rsd, i’ll always worry about what people think about me based on assumptions they’ve made or have been given without getting to know me

but i think i’m a good egg and i try my hardest to approach everything with kindness and make friends or acquaintances where i can, and i’m hoping once this move is over i can keep doing that and getting better every day u-u 💚

[aslitheryprinx]

can we get a part 2 to the smolbois inc story? What happens next to Tommy?

Sure!

Sorry this is so long; I haven't figured out how to add the read more section, and I kept thinking of more I wanted to add.

TW for a panic attack!

Rising Tensions part 2

How was he going to get out of this one?

When in doubt, Tommy thought, bluff your way out.

"And how do you know it wasn't a mouse?" He asked, acting offended. The giants exchanged a look.

"It's fucking rude to accuse someone you just met of stealing, did you know that? You're being rude right now," he said.

"You were sneaking around our house," Tubbo pointed out. Tommy puffed himself up, glaring at the giant with all the indignation he could muster.

"And did you consider that I'm lost, big man? Maybe I just wandered into your house by accident. Now you've accused me of sneaking and stealing." Ranboo raised an eyebrow.

"You came out of the walls," the taller giant said.

"Well… well," Tommy stammered, trying to come up with an excuse, "well, that's how I accidentally wandered in! We found these caves and found these caves, and they were all twisty and shit and we got lost and then ended up here." He realized his mistake and tried to backtrack. "I mean I got lost-"

"We? There are more of you?" Tubbo asked eagerly. Tommy felt a shiver of unease. Wasn't Tubbo some sort of scientist? Anything that made him sound that excited worried him. Besides he wasn't going to sell out his family just because the giant noticed his fuck up.

"It was just a slip of the tongue, man, fuck off!" He snapped.

"It sounds more like a slip up that you didn't want us knowing about. And you said 'we' twice," Tubbo argued, seeing right through his bullshit. Tommy stiffened. Why was he so bad at lying? Was Tubbo going to try and lure his family out now?

"Why are you trying to hide that there's more of you? Are you some sort of secret agent? Probably not, you're shit at lying. Maybe you're hiding someone important like a prince or government official! Or you're part of a traveling circus!" Tubbo rambled.

"There's not more of me, you dick!"

Tommy was having trouble staying calm. He'd been too busy trying to bullshit his way out of trouble that he hadn't focused on the situation he was actually in. What was going to happen to him? What would the giants do to him? If they caught his family, what would they do to them?

"Are you going to fucking let me go, now?" He snapped, only a tiny bit of the nervousness he felt creeping into his voice.

"Sure," Ranboo said.

"No," Tubbo said at the same time. Tommy's heart dropped.

"What do you mean no," Ranboo asked, sounding confused.

"I still have more questions! He can't go yet!" The smaller giant whined. So he wanted to keep Tommy here? Like a prisoner- or worse, a fucking pet. Breathing suddenly seemed really hard to Tommy.

"Like what?" Ranboo asked. Tubbo's eyes shone with excitement as he started to list off questions.

"Like where he's been living this whole time- I don't buy the mouse thing, I think it's been him and whoever else the whole time. It explains why there was no mouse shit. Also why is he here in the first place? And I wanna know about humans! What do they even eat? Is it the same as giants or something else? Where do humans even live? And how do they-"

"Tubbo! Tubbo, stop for a second," Ranboo interrupted, and Tubbo's rambling about human came to a halt. Ranboo was peering down at Tommy, the same concerned expression on his face.

"His… his heart is beating really fast," Ranboo said. Huh. Tommy hadn't really noticed, but it was pretty fast. It was kind of loud and uncomfortable now that he was paying attention.

"Oh, shit," Tubbo exclaimed. Then he was leaning down, peering at Tommy with wide eyes. A finger reached out and he flinched, but it never touched him. Ranboo had pulled him back away from Tubbo.

"Stop poking at him," the giant said, annoyed.

"I'm just trying to see if he's sick or something!" Tubbo protested.

"He's probably having a panic attack! I think we scared him," Ranboo said.

Panic attack? Wilbur and Techno both got those sometimes. He'd never had one, but hey, maybe it was genetics or some shit.

His vision went a little blurry, and he tried to breathe. It felt like something was sitting on his chest. Why was it so hard to breathe? He thought panic attacks just made you breathe really fast, not make you suffocate!

"Woah, woah! You've gotta breathe… um… human," Ranboo said awkwardly.

"Human?" Tubbo repeated, sounding unimpressed.

Tommy was trying so hard to breathe in. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, none of his breaths were doing anything. He inhaled again, and there was a slight wheeze.

"I forgot to ask his name earlier!"

"What the hell man?"

"Hey, um, what is your name?"

…

Oh god, they were talking to him.

In between the struggling breaths, Tommy tried to focus on actually listening to what was going on rather than just let the noises pass over him.

"W-what?" He asked, hating how shaky his voice sounded. He blamed it on the lack of oxygen. He was ignoring his pounding heart and shaky hands.

"Your name?" Tubbo prompted.

"T-Tommy," he managed to force out between panicked breaths.

"Ok, Tommy can you try to breathe s-" Ranboo started.

"'m fucking trying to breathe!" Tommy gasped out. He meant to sound pissed, but his voice sounded weak and shaky. He hated it.

"Slowly," Ranboo said gently. "try to breathe slower."

Tommy gave him a doubtful look.

"It'll help, I promise," Ranboo said. "I get panic attacks a lot, it really does help."

Tommy tried. He did. But he kept freaking out, thinking if he didn't keep inhaling he'd just run out of air. Some part of him recognized that breathing slowly should help, but he just couldn't quite manage to do it.

"You've got this, boss man," Tubbo said softly. "Just keep trying."

He kept trying. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he managed to force himself to take longer to breathe. It did help.

"You're doing great," Ranboo encouraged.

"Yeah! Kick it's ass!" Tubbo cheered. Tommy managed a strangled sounding laugh.

It took several painful minutes, but Tommy managed to start breathing normally again. He had a headache, but he kind of thought he'd gotten off easy. He'd seen some of Wil and Techno's attacks and they could last for hours.

Now that he understood what it really felt like, he felt a sense of horror that they had to deal with this so often, and a sense of pride that his brothers were strong enough to fight them off and keep enjoying their lives. He thinks he would hate existence if this happened to him multiple times a month.

"I'm really sorry for scaring you, Tommy," Tubbo said. Tommy was still a little nervous about what the giants wanted from him, but Tubbo seemed so genuine. It was hard to believe they wanted to hurt him when they both seemed so concerned. And they'd been really gentle so far. So maybe… maybe his fears were unfounded and he was just being a little bitch.

"As long as you're not keeping me here forever, it's fine," he said. Well, he had to make sure. Just in case. Tubbo made a face.

"What like a prisoner? That would be fucking weird, boss man. We're not doing that."

"You can leave whenever you want," Ranboo told him. "Tubbo was just being nosy earlier."

"I am not nosy!" Tubbo protested. Ranboo rolled his eyes but kept his focus on Tommy.

"Can… can I go now?" Tommy asked, putting Ranboo's statement to the test. He may have decided that the giants wouldn't hurt him, but he was still overwhelmed and ready to go home. He was exhausted from the panic attack.

"Of course," Ranboo said. He paused, and Tommy fidgeted nervously as he made no move to set him down. "Um… do you want me to set you down here or take you back to where you were earlier?"

Ah. It had only been a few quick steps for Ranboo, but it would probably take Tommy forever to get back there on his own.

"If you wouldn't mind giving me a ride, big man," he said, trying to sound causal. Ranboo grinned.

"RanUber coming up," he said.

"Why not RanbUber?- Wait."

"Oh no," Ranboo muttered as he walked across the room. Tommy felt a grin growing on his face.

"RanBOOB!" He shouted.

"Oh, wow, never heard that one before," Ranboo grumbled. "I'm putting you down now."

He lowered his hand, and Tommy hopped off onto the ground. He was a little wobbly for a second, which was weird. Maybe it was kind of like being on a boat for a while, and he had to get readjusted to solid ground.

Once he got his balance back, he started to walk towards the tiny cave entrance. He stopped when Tubbo called out.

"Wait!" Tommy tensed slightly, wondering if Tubbo was changing his mind about letting him leave. But Tubbo just sat down next to where Ranboo had crouched.

"Will you come back and talk to us sometime?" He asked. Tommy hesitated. One the one hand, the giants were kind of fun to talk to, and they had been really nice. On the other hand, they'd also been pretty scary and he wasn't entirely sure he trusted them yet.

"Maybe," he settled on. "No promises." Tubbo looked a little disappointed.

"Alright. I hope you will. Bye, Tommy."

"Bye Tommy," Ranboo echoed.

Tommy gave them one last look before he ducked back into the smaller caves. He walked towards the cave where he and his family had been living. He'd only been walking for a few minutes when he was almost bowled over by Wilbur, who was barreling around the corner like a madman. He'd barely registered who it was when he was pulled into a crushing hug.

"Ack! Wil you're squishing me!" He whined.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you anywhere, Tommy I was so worried-"

"Wil, calm down. I was just in a cave that's kind of away from the others. I… I can show you later," he offered a little reluctantly. He hadn't actually gone to the cave he meant to sulk in, but he still kind of wanted to keep it to himself.

"You- it's fine, you don't have to. Just… are you ok? You kind of look like shit." Wilbur had gone full mother hen mode, fussing over him like he was still a baby. The motherfucker was even fixing his hair. And people thought Phil was the overprotective one.

"I'm fine," he said. Wilbur didn't look convinced.

"I'm fine now," he amended. He added quietly, "I uh… I kind of had a panic attack." Wilbur clutched him tighter. God this bitch was clingy when he was upset. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to complain though. The hug felt kind of nice.

"Toms, I'm so fucking sorry," Wilbur said.

"Huh?" What was he talking about?

"About what I said earlier." Oh shit, Tommy had forgotten all about the fight. A little bit of guilt churned in his stomach.

"I should not have said that. I was just pissed, and being a dick, and wanted to say something to make you feel bad. But it was such a stupid thing to say."

"Why, because it's true?" Tommy muttered glumly.

"No, because it's a fucking lie, Tommy, and I never should have said it," Wilbur said fiercely.

"But-"

"You didn't know," Wilbur cut him off. "It's not your fault anymore than it is my fault for jumping down after you when you fell, or Techno's for getting us lost, or Phil's for taking us camping to begin with. Not your fault. Alright?"

"Alright, Wil," Tommy muttered. He was still being held hostage by Wilbur's clingy octopus impression. He really had been worried. It was a good thing that Tubbo and Ranboo weren't all that bad, or who knows how freaked out Wil would've gotten.

It occurred to Tommy that he should probably tell his family that he talked to the giants. That they knew Tommy was there, and knew others were with him. It seemed like something important. But… he kind of wanted to talk to them again. He didn't think Wil would let him go if he found out, let alone his actual father.

So he just… didn't say anything. They didn't need to know. If it ever came up, well… he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Part one

[leotssukinaga]

Friendship Bracelet

Makoto Yuuki x Reader

A/N: I literally dont know where this fic came from, it just popped into my head a few hours ago and now its here. Disclaimer that I don’t know Yuuki that well as a character so I’m not entirely sure how well I wrote him. This ends so cheesy but its cute so I stand by my choices Summary: Makoto and you have been best friends for years, even when you couldn’t see each other often your friendship held firm. There’s just one issue... Makoto doesn’t know if it’ll survive the romantic feelings he’s developed for you. Tags: Fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, cheesy as hell, childhood friends to lovers Word Count: 1.7k

Makoto wasn't sure whether to smile or frown as he stared at the bracelet adorning his wrist, fiddling with it with his other hand. It was a little worn, though you could hardly see where he'd had to mend it when he caught it on that fence last year and it snapped, but even after 4 years of wearing it constantly the colours were as bright as the day you'd given it to him, the green heart embedded in the blue standing out as much as ever. It had been on his mind a lot recently- or rather, what you'd said when you gave it to him had.

-

You hopped up to him at lunch time, a sad sort of smile on your face. He knew why. You were graduating middle school in two days, and you weren't going to the same high school. You'd admitted to him a few weeks before that you were scared to face the world without him, that you didn't want him to stop being your friend just because you didn't see each other every day. He'd been a little too embarrassed to admit that he felt the exact same way. "Hey, I made you something. It's a little silly but... I want you to wear it all the time, okay? So that even when you're old and you can't remember your own name, you'll have a reminder that once upon a time, in middle school, we were best friends." He grinned as you showed him the blue friendship bracelet. He didn't even know you knew how to make them, but he admired your handiwork and held his wrist out for you to tie it on. It was only when you'd done so that he was the green heart you'd sewn onto it. "Not just in middle school," he reassured you, "just because we're going to different high schools doesn't mean I'll forget about you."

-

He'd been right, too. The two of you were in your third year now, and your friendship was as firm as ever. Of course, the different high schools situation had changed once Yumenosaki had opened up the producer course and you'd transferred (something you hadn't told him until you surprised him on your first day there), but even in your first year he'd cycled over to your house every night he had free. You'd always fussed over how he had the energy to do that, with how strenuous idol work can be, but he was insistent that you didn't worry about him too much. And now you were at Yumenosaki, he walked you home every day, just like he had in middle school. He was grateful for your ongoing presence in his life, but recently... He wanted things to change. Not in the sense that he didn't want you around anymore- as if he could ever want that- it was more like he wanted to see you more, if that was even possible.

He'd often catch himself thinking about you in a way he didn't know he could- about holding your hand or waking up next to you, about how nice it would be to be your boyfriend. It was bugging him endlessly. How could he fall in love with his best friend? That was something that belonged in slice of life manga and cheesy sitcoms, not real life. Not his life. Not when you had so many better options out there than him, when half the guys in your year were vying for your attention for less than professional reasons- and he knew that every one of them was likely better suited to you than he was. "Hey, what's on your mind?" Makoto nearly jumped out of his seat when you appeared next to  him, a concerned look on your face "O-oh! Nothings wrong, I'm fine." "I didn't ask if anything was wrong, doofus, but the fact that you answered like I did tells me you definitely just lied to my face. Cmon, out with it." "No really, I-I'm okay!" You frowned at him, pulling out the chair next to him and taking a seat. "When did you start hiding things from me?" "W-what?" "I feel like you don't tell me anything anymore... What happened to the Makoto who'd tell me everything, right down to how long it took you to eat your lunch? When did you stop wanting to share things with me?" You looked sad- heartbroken even- as you stared at your best friend. But that was just it. He'd always be your best friend, and nothing more. He'd thought he was okay with that, but he was beginning to realise he wasn't. "I don't know, I... I guess people just grow apart." He knew, the second he said it, that it was the wrong thing to say, and the tears pricking your eyes as you nodded and silently left the classroom confirmed it.

You didn't wait for him that evening. He arrived at the spot the two of you had used as a meeting place since you'd started at Yumenosaki and found nobody there. You didn't pick up when he called you, either, and the walk home was painfully silent without your company. He'd screwed up majorly, all because he couldn't stand to tell you he was in love with you. And he didn't know whether he'd be able to pick up the pieces or not.

But he knew he had to try.

This wasn't like him. Normally he'd call you before heading to your house, it was rude to drop by unannounced, but this time he didn't even think about it. (You'd likely not pick up anyway.) It wasn't until he turned onto your street that he even realised what he was doing, that he'd cycled all the way here without making a conscious choice to do so. Whether it was the fear of losing you forever or some miraculous bout of previously unfound confidence that saw him climbing the tree outside your window and knocking on it like some anime protagonist you guys would definitely make fun of together, he didn't know. All he knew was that when you opened the curtains you looked like you'd been crying- and that you shut them again the second you saw him. He slumped back on the branch he was sitting on, not ready to give up but feeling a little defeated, when he heard the door open below him.

"Makoto! What the hell are you doing up there?!" "I need to talk to you." "Ever heard of knocking?" "I didn't think you'd answer." "You could've tried!  Ugh, will you just get down from there, please? I'm having horrible visions of you with your head splattered on the sidewalk." He nodded and made his way out of the tree, trying not to think about how cute it was when you covered your eyes so you wouldn't have to see if he fell.

"I...I didn't mean what I said earlier." "I know." "You do?" "Yeah! I mean, come on. I know you better than anyone- if that was really how you felt you’d wanna talk about it, give me the reasons. You’re always so gentle with people, even when you don’t like them." "When you didn't walk home with me today I thought maybe I'd messed up beyond repair." "I was upset. Even if you didn't mean it, it hurt. And you've been so distant lately. I don't wanna lose you. Ever." "I don't wanna lose you either." The way you smiled at him warmed his heart, but your next words put a knife right through it. "Good. You're stuck with me as a best friend forever, whether you like it or not."

Makoto couldn't take it. He knew he wasn't good enough for you. You deserved a boyfriend who could sweep you off your feet, not some dork who's only romantic knowledge came from manga. But... even if it was unfounded, he had to have hope. He had to tell you how he felt.

"Y/N, look, I- I need to tell you something." "What is it?" "I-" The words stuck in his throat. You stared at him expectantly as he tried to get them out, but they wouldn't go, no matter how much he stuttered. Now was not the time for him to freak out and forget how to speak. He'd cycled over here and climbed a tree, for God's sake, and now he couldn't even say what he wanted to. He couldn't help but think that this was why you deserved better than him. "Makoto? Are you okay?" "Yes, I just-” He took a deep breath before finally blurting it out, so fast you could barely make out what he was saying. “I'm in love with you and I have been for like a year and I thought I could be okay with just being your best friend- and if you tell me to shut up and never talk about this again then I will, I'll be happy to be in your life in any capacity- but I knew I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try, you know? You're just so perfect and I know you deserve better than what I can offer you and it's so stupid for me to think I have a chance in hell but-" "Makoto!" "Y-yes?" "Will you shut the hell up and kiss me already?" "I- what?" "Oh, I have to do everything myself, don't I?" He was still processing what you'd said when you pulled him in for a kiss, cupping his face gently with your hands. It took him a minute to come to terms with the fact that you were kissing him, but eventually he settled his arms around your waist and melted into it. You pulled away abruptly when something cold and wet landed on your forehead, squinting up at the sky. As if the night hadn't played out enough like some cheesy romance film, snow began to fall around you.

"I probably should’ve worn a coat, huh..." "Oh my god, come inside before we both freeze to death!" "Will your parents be okay with that?" "Of course they will, it's you." You reached for his hand to pull him inside, but stopped when you noticed something. "Hey... you're still wearing the bracelet." "'Course I am. You told me to wear it all the time." You grinned up at him, giving him a soft peck on the lips. "I guess that heart means something different now, though." Makoto's real heart swelled in his chest. Being with you was... Well, it felt like something out of a fairytale, or one of those dreams that waking up from upsets you because it's not real. "Yeah. I guess it does."

[udaimonia]

I wrote something for cassunzel week day 3: new beginnings! It's posted on AO3 or you can read it below the cut!

everything good in life seems to lead back to you

pairing: cassandra/rapunzel

length: 1,800 words

Cassandra had been acting strange lately and Rapunzel wished she knew why.

She had come back to Corona three days ago and they hadn't gotten to spend much time together. Rapunzel was busy helping restore the damage caused when they defeated Zhan Tiri and she didn't have the time to go looking for her. She thought Cassandra would have come to find her by now but she hadn't. Rapunzel was starting to get a little worried.

When Cassandra was getting ready to leave after the fight against Zhan Tiri, Rapunzel had desperately wanted to ask her to stay. To keep her by her side and never lose her, not again. Not like she had lost her to the moonstone, to Zhan Tiri, to her own insecurities and fears.

But Rapunzel knew she couldn't do that. She knew the feeling of being trapped, of needing the open air and the freedom that travel brought.

So she let her go. And Cass came back, like she promised.

Only things weren't the way Rapunzel had pictured. They weren't catching up like they had promised they would in their letters. Instead, it was as though Cass wasn't even in the kingdom, like she had never returned.

Well, Rapunzel couldn't stand another day apart from the woman she loved, not when she was finally home after months of being away.

She left Eugene with a kiss on the cheek after breakfast, leaving him with her parents to discuss the ongoing restorations of the kingdom. She had a best friend to find.

Rapunzel started in the easy places first. Cassandra's old bedroom, untouched but clean thanks to the castle maids. They had agreed it would be left as is for whenever Cassandra returned to Corona. Rapunzel saw her travel bag and boots sitting neatly by her bed but the room was empty.

She stopped by the Captain's house to ask if he had seen his daughter.

"She stopped by yesterday," the captain said. "When she left she told me she was coming to see you."

"I haven't seen her at all since she got back," Rapunzel frowned. "I hope everything is okay. You don't think she's still mad at me, do you?"

The Captain gives her a smile. There's something in it that Rapunzel can't quite place.

"She cares for you very much, Rapunzel. Never doubt that."

Rapunzel nods. "Thank you, captain."

"Of course. I'll send word if she comes back here."

Rapunzel leaves and decides to check with Xavier next. Cassandra might have needed a new weapon or had something for him to repair.

She greets the townspeople as she passes by, always happy to see them. Part of her knows her smile isn't as genuine, isn’t as large as it usually is. Her worry about Cass is growing, and it shows as she picks up her pace.

Xavier tells her he hasn't seen Cassandra either and wishes her luck on her search. Rapunzel checks at the tailor's where they laughed when Rapunzel tried on dresses and at Attilla's bakery where they split their desserts.

Cassandra isn't there.

Rapunzel finally gives up when the sun starts setting. Soon it'll be too dark to search at all. Her eyes trace her feet as they drag in the dirt and her fingers twist together. Why can't she find Cassandra?

Her thoughts are twisted as she thinks through what happened before Cassandra left. Rapunzel didn't remember her being upset or angry. Did she miss something? Did she remember wrong?

Maybe it was naive to think things would go back to normal so easily.

Head in the clouds and eyes in the dirt, it was kind of inevitable that she would bump into someone. Rapunzel lands on the ground with a thump, already looking up to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was—Cassandra?"

And it is her. Cassandra, with her beautiful wavy dark hair–shorter than Rapunzel remembered it being–and her pale skin. Her cheeks are flushed now and she's scrambling to pick up the yellow flowers scattered around them.

"Cassandra, I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Cassandra doesn't look at her, tucking all the flowers back into an orderly bunch in her hands.

"Cass?" Rapunzel calls her name again, hesitant this time. She prays she hasn’t ruined it, that what they once had isn’t irreversibly broken.

Cassandra stands, shoulders hunched up by her ears. One hand reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Rapunzel longs to reach out and do it for her.

"Hi, Raps."

"Have you been avoiding me?" Rapunzel keeps her fingers from brushing at Cassandra’s hair by brushing the dirt off her skirt instead. She tilts her head to look at Cass with a questioning eye.

"No!" Cassandra's shoulders sag, drooping like the flowers in her hands. "Maybe… Yes."

Rapunzel frowns, hands twisting in the fabric of her skirt in lieu of her long hair. "Is… is there a reason why?"

"Kind of? I just… I'm no good at this kind of thing." Cassandra rubs a shy hand down the back of her neck.

Rapunzel smiles. Cassandra being shy wasn't something she was used to, but it was endearing.

"That's okay! I'm not surprised, you've been gone for months. We can talk back at the castle though, it's getting really dark."

"That's not really what I mea–"

Rapunzel loops one of her arms around Cassandra's and starts walking.

"We'll talk inside! I promise."

Cassandra can't help but follow, one arm linked with Rapunzel's and the other cradling her flowers. She watches Rapunzel talk about what she and Eugene did yesterday with a fond smile.

She's missed this.

……………….

True to her promise, they sit down to talk over dinner. When Rapunzel asks Friedborg to take the flowers, Cassandra pulls them closer to her.

"No! No actually, these… these are for you."

Cassandra held them out for Rapunzel to take. Her eyes dart from her feet to the windows, never staying in one place and never looking at Rapunzel. It’s like she's nervous.

"They're daffodils. Sorry they're kind of, well, ruined, because of earlier, but yeah. For you."

She's blushing now, her pale cheeks tinged pink. Rapunzel finds she rather likes it when Cassandra blushes; pink is a good colour on her.

"Cassandra! They're perfect. Thank you."

Rapunzel holds the flowers close. Cassandra is right, some of the flowers were flattened and are missing petals. Rapunzel doesn't care. Cassandra isn't the flower-giving type, she knows, but she got flowers just for her. Rapunzel's heart feels too big for her chest and she can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face. She doesn’t even try.

She turns to the table to set them in a vase Friedborg has helpfully supplied. With her hands empty she's free to hug Cassandra like she's longed to for months.

"I love them." Rapunzel whispers with Cassandra's arms around her. She hopes her actions convey the words she's too scared to say just yet.

I love them and I love you.

……………….

They spend the next few days together and it's easy. Familiar.

Rapunzel's worries about things being different weren't entirely unfounded. They can still talk and laugh like they used to but there are moments where Rapunzel can't help but stare when Cassandra laughs, admiring the curve of her lips. There are moments when Rapunzel is talking and she glances at Cassandra to find her staring. Then Cassandra glances away, cheeks tinting a now familiar pink.

It's strange, the floaty feeling Rapunzel gets when she links her hand with Cassandra's to pull her along as they walk the streets of Corona. Cassandra never protests at the contact. Sometimes she gives Rapunzel's hand a little tug, pointing out something new or something she had missed while she was away.

All of it is new and different and strange and Rapunzel finds she doesn't really mind.

……………….

Her mother comes into her room a few days later to find her pressing one of the last daffodils into her journal. This one is new, one she started right after Cassandra left. She's been keeping all the letters and other things Cassandra sends her tucked safely inside. In the last few days she's recorded some of Cassandra's journeys too. The flower is yet another memory the two of them share, kept forever in the little brown journal.

"Is that a daffodil? It's beautiful." Arianna commented, sitting next to her daughter on the bed.

Rapunzel hummed in agreement. "Cassandra gave me a whole bouquet."

Arianna raised an eyebrow. "Cassandra gave you daffodils?"

Rapunzel looked up from her journal. "She did. Why?"

Arianna shook her head. "It's an interesting choice of flower, that's all."

At Rapunzel's puzzled look, she elaborated. "I've got a book I think you might like. Let me go get it for you."

Arianna returns with a beautifully decorated book. The cover is soft fabric, hand painted with detailed flowers. The title reads Flowers and What They Mean: A Guide by Willow.

Rapunzel gasped. "Aunt Willow?"

"She gave it to me years ago. She liked to document the flowers she found as she travelled and when she learned people had meanings for them, she recorded that too. I think you'll find it interesting."

"Thanks, mom." Rapunzel gives Arianna a quick hug and settles down, lying on her stomach, to read. Arianna leaves her to it with a quick kiss on the forehead.

Rapunzel flips through the pages until she finds one with a bright, detailed drawing of a familiar yellow flower.

Daffodils are bright yellow flowers. Symbolizing rebirth and new beginnings, the daffodil is virtually synonymous with spring. A gift of daffodils is said to ensure happiness. But always remember to present daffodils in a bunch – the same legends that associate this cheerful flower with good fortune warn us that when given as a single bloom, a daffodil can foretell misfortune.

"New beginnings and happiness," Rapunzel murmured to herself. "Oh, Cassandra!"

Rapunzel turned so she was laying on her back and stared at the paintings on the ceiling as she thought. Cassandra was leaving again the next day. If Rapunzel worked quickly, she might be able to put her plan into action.

……………….

She just barely makes it.

They eat breakfast together and then Cassandra leaves to visit her father before her journey. Cassandra is mounting Fidella when Rapunzel comes running into the courtyard.

"Cass! Wait!"

Cassandra looks up with a smile, pulling her foot out of the stirrup to catch Rapunzel in a tight hug.

"Glad you made it."

"Of course," Rapunzel smiles. "Can't let you leave without saying goodbye."

Cassandra notices she's holding something. A crown of flowers, carefully woven together.

"Is that for me?"

Rapunzel nods. "Yellow daffodils for new beginnings and pink asters for love."

Cassandra freezes, her eyes wide. "Rapunzel…"

"You're right, this is our new beginning. After everything that's happened, after everything we've been through, we get to start over. And I want to do this right."

Rapunzel steps forward so she can set the crown on Cassandra's head. She lets her hands hover for a moment and then gently cups Cassandra's face.

"I love you, Cassandra. I love you so, so much."

She presses her forehead to Cassandra's. Cass is crying now, quiet tears rolling down her cheeks. Her hands grip Rapunzel's shoulders, like she’s scared to let go.

"I'm here," Rapunzel soothes, wiping away her tears. "I'm here and I love you."

Cassandra smiles and her hands slide to Rapunzel's waist, drawing her close. "I love you too, Raps."

Cassandra tilts her head and kisses her. Rapunzel closes her eyes and the jittery feeling that something was not-quite-right that had been resting in her chest since Cassandra's return dissolved into a warmth that blanketed her. The odd moments from the last few days fell neatly into place and for the first time since before Cassandra had taken the moonstone, things felt right again.

Notes: 

Titles from the song "Exist for Love" by Aurora. The paragraph about daffodils and their meaning was taken directly from this website. The meaning for aster flowers was found here.

Check out the other art pieces and fics created for cassunzel week! They're all brilliant.

@cassunzelweek

[fairycosmos]

I have my finale exam tomorrow and I'm 99,9% sure that I'll fail. I feel like such a failure right now. I could retake the school year but why I understand the school work then, if I don't understand it now. I'll probably stay unemployed forever, because I'm so anxious at job interviews and I literally don't know how to talk to people. Maybe it'd be the best if I didn't exist because nothing would change if wasn't here anyway. I wouldn't be missed and I know I will never be happy anyway.

hey dude, listen. it sounds a bit like you’re spiraling right now and i really think it’d do you some good to just take a step back and breathe. i hope the test went okay, and by okay i hope i mean you got through it, because that’s literally all you can ask of yourself. it’s natural to be nervous about such things and if you’re also struggling with mental illness on top of that, it’s easy to get lost in the heaviness of that anxiety. making big unfounded assumptions about your future, feeling a sense of doom, thinking in black and whites instead of recognizing the nuance and middle ground - all of those are red flags, not reliable thought processes that you need to build your life around. it’s okay to process negative emotions, to be upset and to feel overwhelmed and to want to give up at at times. we all need to break down a little when we’re overwhelmed so we can let some of that pent up tension out. but that should look like allowing yourself to cry, reaching out to those around you, getting some rest, and removing yourself from situations that exacerbate the pain when possible. not harming yourself in hopes of dulling those emotions, because that’s how you get stuck in a cycle of self destruction that is more suffocating than just confronting the pain and trying to let it go. look, you’re young and life is generally a lot longer than it seems when you’re in school, in the sense that we learn how resilient we are over and over again. we’re supposed to ‘mess up.’ things go ‘wrong ’and then we carve our paths out of that, and we adapt. whether we realize it or not. you’ve done it before, and you can do it again. if it turns out you have to retake the school year, then with the extra time and maybe additional support from your teachers, the school work may become a little clearer if you give it the chance and try out new learning techniques to find what works for you. that doesn’t make you a failure at all. you clearly care a lot about your future, and you’ve already made so much more progress than you realize. i know it doesn’t seem like it in this moment. but seriously, whatever happens, after the initial disappointment and frustration, you WILL be able to return to a sense of normality. the extent of how much it hurts right now is not permanent. there’s truly no set time schedule for education, no matter how much they want to convince us otherwise. you just have to do what you can with what you’ve been given. that’s more than good enough. you’re more than good enough. and about job interviews - try to slow down. there’s absolutely no evidence that you will be unemployed forever, in fact it’s very unlikely, and your worth/future happiness doesn’t rely on that factor anyway. honestly, i’ve been to a few job interviews by now and i’ve always thought the same thing about myself. especially when i was in school, i thought i knew, that there was no way i could handle it, no way anyone would take me on. and they are uncomfortable and nerve wracking, sure. but they’re also not the beginning and end of the world. nobody is expecting you to be the worlds best talker especially when you’re new to the whole thing. it’s about showing your enthusiasm and your skillset, and if you dont believe you have one, you do. you just cant see it because you dont like yourself right now. i’ve been rejected from jobs too, and yeah it’s a dig at the self esteem, but it’s not a personal failure. it’s just the nature of applying for a position that loads of other people are also applying for. you learn to accept it. but you don’t even have to carry that weight yet, love. so try to recognize what your brain is doing by bombarding you with worries that are entirely out of your control, and that there is no actual proof of. more than anything, it’s important to remember that school nor your career defines everything that you are. we’re taught from a young age that we only deserve to be here if we’re ‘useful’ by capitalist standards, if we can justify the space we take up. but it’s a fucking lieeeeee. raising us like that is the only way to get us to work work work without questioning it too much. it’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the world being a soul sucking machine. so, relax. you deserve to be here and you deserve to be gentle with yourself, nothing changes that. not tests or the future or your self hatred. i know it’s hard to believe that such concepts apply to you, but they do. nothing and nobody would be better off without you, i promise. when you’re in a dark place it’s only normal to believe that you’ll never be happy, but it’s really not the case in reality. happiness is an emotion that comes and goes like all else, and it is entirely possible for it to become a consistent theme in your life. that is, if you’re able to make it through this part. if you’re able to try to engage in healthier coping mechanisms so that you see your situation from multiple perspectives, rather than just from a one dimensional ‘things will never get better’ stand point. even if you just have to survive hour by hour, until you get there.

i’d really recommend considering talking to someone about what’s happening in your head right now, man. i know that’s not what you want to hear and part of you will want to immediately write it off, but try to pause and keep it in the back of your mind. whether it’s a teacher, a parent/family member, a school counselor, a mental health hotline, a friend, your doctor - there are so many people out there who have the tools to help you learn to manage. and it doesn’t matter if the process is slow or non linear, or if you have to force the words out. all that matters is that you try. whatever that means to you, even if some days it’s just staying in your room and breathing through it. you can recognize that not wanting to be here any more is an unhealthy thought, indicating that there is a lot more going on beneath the surface, yeah? it’s alright to talk about that and to let others in. our mental health is often just as fragile as our physical health and sometimes it needs medical intervention in order to be adequately supported, and that’s totally fine.  yeah, opening up is embarrassing and yeah it’s not something anyone ‘wants’ to do, but it’s often very necessary, because it’ll allows people to be able to relate with and guide you. please consider your own needs and know that there is no shame in speaking up. even if you have to take some time to find the courage. honestly, you don’t even need to go into great detail. a simple ‘i need help and i’m not sure what to do’ is a great place to start with someone you trust, or someone who is in a position to help you. anyway, i’m sorry this got super long. navigating school is fuckin difficult at the best of times, and i’m infinitely proud of you for making it to this point and for being able to articulate your feelings like this to me. i have no doubt that you will be able to get through this if you give yourself the time and the tools do so. and i dont say that lightly at all. try to ground yourself for now, and start again tomorrow. if you want to talk about this properly or if you ever need a friend, my dms/inbox will be open. take care. focus on one day at a time.

[alphawave-writes]

Requiem for the Apostle Chapter 1: ‘Control’

Synopsis: Kim Kitsuragi wakes up with no memory of the case he was working on, involving a corpse with strange, ritualistic markings on it. To make matters worse, he now has voices talking to him in his head (24 to be exact), who seem keen to tell him everything about the world and the case, AND his old partner, Lars 'Lucky' Langley, has since gone missing.  By retracing his footsteps with Lieutenant Harry du Bois by his side, will he be able to crack this case wide open and become more than partners?

Read it here or find it on AO3. You guys can also find me on twitter @alphawave13.

If you like my writing, please do support me by buying me a ko-fi, becoming a patron on Patreon or requesting a fanfic commission from me. Any little bit helps me out a lot during this pandemic to live and study.

-

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Well, isn't this a treat? You get to bathe in warm, primordial blackness. You got your wish. You found what you were looking for in the inky depths of despair. A nugget of truth. A sprig of madness. You've done it.

YOU — What…?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — You're scared, but that's alright, little man. Let the darkness wash over you. Don't think. Don't breathe. Let the memories wash away like rain on glass windows.

YOU — I'm not little, and I'm certainly not scared. What the fuck are you? What memories?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Don't you see, little man? This ain't your world. No need to worry about anything anymore. Forget the rules, forget the pain and suffering. Make the darkness your friend, your lover. Hehe…I'm sure he'll treat you right.

LIMBIC SYSTEM — Your tired, old meat sack is but a whisper in the wind. It's thin, pale, weak. Past its prime. With the crimson dawn, rubies spill from your lips and stain your chest with all its rich, delicious spoils.

YOU — Wait, are you saying I'm bleeding?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Concentrate on the pain, little man. Don't worry about the past. Let the memories all spill down into the drains, feeding the maggots and the insects.

YOU — Enough of this. You’re hiding something from me. Spill it.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — You sure?

YOU — I said, spill what you know, now!

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Oh no, Kimchi. I’m afraid I can’t do that. See, I don’t hold the answers, I just tell you the truths you know deep down. I know everything you refuse to remember. The horrible snippets of your life, the unpaid sacrifices, played and replayed until your body slumps dead in a ditch somewhere.

I remember all that you remember.

And baby, you’ve already forgotten.

YOU — Forgotten what?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — See? You don’t even know what you’ve forgot. You’ve forgotten what you forgot about.

You’ve already lost.

And you’ll keep losing.

Every loss, a cut. Every cut, a bit of you is taken away.

Piece by itty bitty piece.

Better remember quick, Kimchi. Don't wanna lose control, don't you?

ENDURANCE [Godly: Success] — Your heart pumps. Life filters through the tiny vessels of your body. A surge of energy surrounds you and soon your eyes open.

YOU — You jolt up and find yourself in a hospital bed. Your skin is sweaty and clammy and the world is blurry. Whether it's from your tears or something else, you have no idea.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Failure] — You can make out some drab blue walls and what looks like more empty beds, but that’s all. The world is undefined at the edges, colours and shapes merging together. You can barely make out the edges of objects.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] — You only know it’s a hospital because there are fresh bandages near your throbbing head, and this is the only other place you can conceivably wake up in outside of your apartment.

COMPOSURE [Godly: Failure] — You’re not sure your vision is blurry if it’s because of the tears streaming down your face or not.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — It’s unbecoming. Sissy behavior. You really are a faggot.

YOU — I…what are you guys? Why can I hear these voices?

LOGIC [Impossible: Failure] — You don’t know where we come from, just that you can hear us now.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] — You’d remember if you heard these voices before, but you don’t.

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] — Somehow you know that we will be here from now until death or eternity, and that you will never be able to get rid of us.

We are a part of you, and you are a part of us.

Forever.

YOU — No, wait. This can’t be right. I had thoughts; normal thoughts that didn’t involve random voices speaking in my head. I’m not a psychopath. I’m normal.

AUTHORITY — Hell yes we are.

YOU — No, not you. Just me. You guys don't belong in my head.

REACTION SPEED [Hard: Success] — Your mental debate is interrupted by someone opening a door just outside of your peripheral vision. You quickly snap your head at them.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Failure] — You still can’t see them even when they get right next to your bed. All you see are patches of green and white and the occasional black. Even from this distance, their face is a blur.

????? — The mysterious figure reaches for something next to you.

HALF-LIGHT [Easy: Success] — Your muscles tense in anticipation, and perhaps even fear.

????? — But the figure gently grabs something on the bedside table beside you and and places it gently into your prone hand. Something small but familiar.

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] — Your precious glasses.

YOU — You chuck them on and are greeted to the sight of Lieutenant double-Yefreitor Harry du Bois. Your partner. Your confidante. Your best friend.

RHETORIC — How far you've fallen, Kim Kitsuragi, to consider this mess of a human being your closest friend.

HARRY DU BOIS — “Good to see you’re finally awake, Kim.”

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] — Harry is relieved to see you’re OK. Not relieved enough to suggest you were in anything serious by the fact that he isn’t sobbing into your chest right now, but relieved enough that he felt the need to crouch down so he was at the same head level as you.

AUTHORITY — He might cry anyway if you let him. Don't make him.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Success] — Now that you have your glasses on, you can now see the detective properly. His hair is clean and combed, and both his face and clothes look neat, if tacky. The only thing marring his appearance (aside from said clothes) are his ugly mutton chops, and a dark bruise right under his left cheek bone.

YOU — You reach up to your face, wondering if you’re bruised yourself…

PAIN THRESHOLD [Legendary: Failure] — …and touch a very sensitive and fresh bruise, making you hiss in pain.

HARRY DU BOIS — “Nasty scrap you were in, eh?”

YOU — Scrap?

HARRY DU BOIS — He points to your forehead, as if reading your mind. "You got walloped by a bat. Quite nastily, too. Everybody's surprised you didn't get anything worse than a mild concussion."

INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Failure] — You don't remember getting into a fight…

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] — …but you don't show it. It'll come to you. It should.

YOU — "How long have I been out?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "Five, maybe six hours?" He shrugs. "Not sure specifically."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] — He hasn't been paying attention to the clock at all. You doubt he knows the time of day himself.

YOU — You stare out the window, seeing the sky flushed orange and purple and pink. A few clouds hang low in the sky, but otherwise the weather is relatively clear.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] — It must be sunset, putting the current time at approximately 17:00-18:00 hours. If the detective's statement is correct, you were unconscious since 12:00 today.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Success] — The colours shift and swirl like blood floating in a pool of water.

YOU — Seriously, I don't know what you voices are, but can you shut up? I can barely think.

INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Failure] — No.

AUTHORITY [Impossible: Failure] — No.

COMPOSURE [Impossible: Failure] — Never.

YOU — Geez, thanks for the vote of confidence.

HARRY DU BOIS — He is looking at you curiously, his lucid eyes locking onto your gaze firmly and never letting go.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — Harry hasn’t been drinking or doing drugs since your first case together. Everybody says it's a miracle he hasn't relapsed.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Challenging: Success] — Instead, he’s gotten addicted to two little things: work and you.

YOU — He may be addicted to work, but he's not addicted to me. That's ridiculous.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] — Oh, but it isn't, is it? You've gotten closer to him, and he's gotten closer to you. You can’t deny that. Don't you know you're one hell of a drug? He craves you, and you're putting him in withdrawal.

AUTHORITY [Formidable: Success] — You are both cops for the RCM, and partners. Relationships between colleagues is strictly forbidden, and you will not sully yourself by associating yourself with the Detective anymore than necessary.

HARRY DU BOIS — "Are you alright, Kim?"

EMPATHY [Challenging: Failure] — Is he talking about your injury?

LOGIC [Challenging: Failure] — Or perhaps he’s talking about the fact you haven

YOU — "I'm fine. My head doesn't hurt if that's what you're asking."

HARRY DU BOIS — "That's not what I'm concerned about. I'm asking about your partner."

LOGIC [Easy: Failure] — Partner?

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Failure] — What partner?

YOU — "I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Aren't you my partner?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "No. I mean…well, yes, I was, and I am again, but…"

He pauses for several seconds, his lips pressed tight.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — He knows something you don't, and he's worried about how you'll react.

ESPRIT DE CORPS — His suspicions aren't entirely unfounded.

HARRY DU BOIS — "Do you remember what happened earlier today? What lead to you getting walloped on the head?"

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Success] — You steel yourself, keeping your face carefully blank.

DRAMA [Legendary: Failure] — But Harry is an extraordinarily perceptive man, and he sees through the masks you wear, bixia.

HARRY DU BOIS — "Do you remember why you were at the abandoned factory at the Burnt Out Quarter?"

YOU — The Burnt Out Quarter? Abandoned factory?

HARRY DU BOIS — Harry frowns pensively. "What about your friend? Do you know what happened to him?"

YOU — "Eyes? What happened to him? Is he here?"

HARRY DU BOIS — Harry shakes his head microscopically. His brows furrow.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] — Your friend isn't here. He's never been here. Harry thought you knew where he was.

YOU — But I don't. I don't know what friend Harry is talking about.

HARRY DU BOIS — He slides something towards your hand. Another item from the bedside table.

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] — You'd recognise your trusty notebook anywhere. Even by touch.

YOU — Flipping through the notebook, you see notes from your past cases. The last few Juvie cases you did, the Hanged Man case where you first met Harry, the extortion case, and many others you've solved over the last few months.

You flip over to the last couple of pages, detailing the case of a mysterious corpse found near the river, covered in strange, ritualistic cuts over their torso. These notes would make sense with context, but for the life of you, you can't remember a single thing about it. Not how the corpse looks like, not how you made the jump between the corpse and the Burnt Out Quarter, nor how it all connects to the abandoned factory.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] —You must have been in a hurry to not write it down. That, or you were distracted.

HARRY DU BOIS — "Kim," Harry says slowly. "'What's the last thing you remember?"

YOU —You open your mouth, then close it.

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Success] —You swallow tightly, not making a sound.

YOU — "I remember…it was night. We'd just finished a case and you took me to a local bar to celebrate. And then you did your depressing karaoke song again and they kicked us out for upsetting the mood."

HARRY DU BOIS — "So you don't remember the new transfer?"

AUTHORITY — Is Harry trying to undermine you? He doesn't need to know you don't remember. Let him connect the dots himself.

YOU — "No," you admit. "I don't remember. What transfer? Did we get a new cop?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "I was worried about this," he chuckled. "Welcome to Amnesia town. Population: us fuckers."

YOU — "I don't have amnesia…I think."

HARRY DU BOIS — He smirks, making his ruddy cheeks ruddier. "I'd think I'd know the symptoms of amnesia, Lieutenant. Do you at least remember what happened? Any details?"

YOU — "I'm certain I'd remember if you got us both kicked out of a bar."

HARRY DU BOIS — "Humour me. Do you remember what happened?"

YOU — You roll your eyes at him, then close your eyelids.

AUTHORITY — We can speak for you in moments like this. Let me do it. I'll make sure the Lieutenant knows our memory is excellent.

YOU — Not a chance. I'm not letting some psychotic voices in my head take control of my body. I'll relay it, not you.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] — It's become a ritual of you and Harry to head to a bar to relax after a case. If you remember something specific, perhaps it will convince Harry to cease this line of questioning.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] — Harry gave you the choice of the bar that night, even though you've never drunk in front of him during these outings. You were tired, so you thought of the one place you could: La Mer. A quiet bar that is, shall we say, very welcoming of the homosexual underground.

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — Harry sees someone with a drink, thinks it looks cool, and gets it himself. He chugs it down, barely remembering to savor the taste. He promised himself only one, and you're going to make sure it stays one, and he's already drunk it in five seconds.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] — When Harry finds the karaoke machine, he's in his element. He croons his love song, seeded with all sorts of dirty innuendos, and you think for a moment that he might be capable of the things he sings about. When he dedicates the song to you, as he always does, he does it with a suggestive little wink.

COMPOSURE [Legendary: Failure] — Every time he dedicates a song to you, it's to make some part of your body blush. Every time he winks at you, he's trying to get a reaction out of you.

Unfortunately, he's succeeded on both accounts.

YOU — He did not get a reaction out of me. And anyways, his next song got us kicked out of the bar.

ENCYCLOPAEDIA [Medium: Success] — To be fair, Harry didn't seem to be aware the second song he was singing is attributed to Captain Novac, a government officer who led numerous campaigns against the alternative sexuality communities.

SHIVERS [Easy: Success] — The days of homosexuals being forced into hiding for their lives may be over, but the scars still remain.

VISUAL CALCULUS — Harry apologised, then offered to take you back to his apartment, as it was closer.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Failure] — But you refused. You got yourself a taxi, headed back home.

YOU — You open your eyes to find Harry observing you quietly, eyes half-lidded.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Failure] — Is he…is he falling asleep on us?

YOU — "Did my story bore you, Lieutenant?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "N-no, no. I'm just surprised you remembered all that. If that's the last thing you remember, then you don't remember that detective from your old Precinct transferring over the next morning?"

YOU — "Next morning?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "When he found out you transferred here, he wanted you to teach him. You begged Jean to let someone else do the job, but when he found out what the story is and how you both knew each other, he basically forced you both together, the asshole."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — There's the lightest hint of a smile on his face. If he was in a higher position and he felt cruel enough, he might have done the exact same thing Jean did.

AUTHORITY [Formidable: Success] — Jean's jealous you get to work with a sober Harry, but makes up for it by gossiping about you both to Judit.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — More than once you've heard them call you and Harry born-again lovers.

YOU — "So who was I forced to partner up with?"

HARRY DU BOIS — He smirks. "Guy by the name of Lars Langley."

YOU — "Lars…"

COMPOSURE [Legendary: Failure] — LANGLEY?!

AUTHORITY [Formidable: Failure] — That creep followed you into Precinct 41?!

HARRY DU BOIS — "You made that exact same face the first time you were told," he smirks.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] — He's talking about that pained, constipated look in your eyes.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Success] — Like a fish in a pet shop, knowing and unknowing, trapped in a cage.

YOU — "I had to babysit Lucky?" You shake your head. "Sometimes I wish that guy got lost."

HARRY DU BOIS — "Funny you should mention that, because uhh…well, he's gone."

YOU — "What do you mean?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "I get a call from you directly to my place 08:00 in the morning. Don't know why you were up so early, but I assumed it must have been for a case. By the time I got patched through, you've already hung up on me. When I head to Precinct 41, Jules tells me you called the Precinct. I put 1 and 1 together, arranged a search party, and that's how we found you in the Burnt Out Quarter, unconscious and bleeding on the floor of the abandoned factory."

EMPATHY [Legendary: Failure] — There's something else in his story. A detail he chose to omit. But what?

LOGIC [Legendary: Failure] — It couldn't be anything important.

HARRY DU BOIS — "We searched all over, but we couldn't find your partner. We know he was with you though, according to what you told Jules. We think whoever bashed your head in kidnapped Lucky."

REACTION SPEED [Formidable: Success] — There's a twitch in his lips. A microscopic frown that plays on his lips.

LOGIC [Legendary: Success] — You know what the Lieutenant is thinking. Best case scenario: Lucky got kidnapped. Worst case scenario: Lucky got kidnapped and killed.

YOU — And I have no way of knowing who, or how, or why.

HARRY DU BOIS — He stands up slowly, brushing his disco pants off. He moves slowly, hesitantly, as if he feels like he should leave but he doesn't want to.

VOLITION [Medium: Failure] — You don't want him to either.

YOU — "So I guess the case is still on?"

HARRY DU BOIS — He nods. "Jean wanted me to check your condition. Thought that if you woke up and punched somebody, I could take the blow best."

YOU — "So he's afraid of getting punched by me?"

HARRY DU BOIS — "Are you kidding? You'd give him a run for his lunch money if you tried. Plus, I think he was hoping you'd punch me."

YOU — The faintest of smiles creeps up your face. "It'd knock some sense into you."

HARRY DU BOIS — He leans his head forward. An open target. "Give it a try. It might work."

YOU — If anyone needs some sense knocked into them, it's me for having these weird voices in my head.

You raise your fist up, clenched tight into a ball, and thrust it towards Harry's exposed head.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Formidable: Failure] — But it's no more than a lovetap. Like a teddy bear threw a punch.

HARRY DU BOIS — "Does this mean you need to stay here any longer?"

YOU — "Fuck no. I'm fine, really, Detective. This is my case, and I'll see it to the end."

AUTHORITY — Show him who's boss. Show him you mean business.

YOU — You take your glasses off and place them back on the bedside table beside you. Then, you tug at the bandages wrapped around your head in one swift motion, letting it cascade down like blood-stained ribbons into your lap. They spool down, spiraling, spiraling, until the bandages are all neatly in your lap.

COMPOSURE [Trivial: Success] — Harry thought that was cool.

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — Harry likes that.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] — Harry more than likes that. You might have turned on his light switch right there.

YOU — You put your glasses back on quickly and hop out of the bed, bandages still in your hands. Harry takes it from you—

REACTION SPEED [Heroic: Success] — He shivers slightly when his fingers grazes yours—

HARRY DU BOIS — And he scrunches it all up and throws it at the nearest bin. It lands square in the middle. A perfect shot.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You like that.

YOU — The two of you slowly walk out of the hospital ward and down to the parking lot where, to your relief, your Coupris Kineema sits, untouched and undamaged.

HARRY DU BOIS — "You alright to drive?"

YOU — "I should be fine."

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Success] — Your head still feels a little sore to the touch but it's no longer bleeding, and you didn't feel dizzy at all keeping up with Harry's brisk walking pace. You're good to go.

HARRY DU BOIS — "So…because Lucky is gone, and you seem to be all good to go—"

YOU — "—I'll need a replacement partner?"

HARRY DU BOIS —He smiles warmly. "I'm just saying, I just finished up my case earlier today before coming over here, and I'm offering my services. It'll be like the good old times of last week."

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — He wants to monitor your condition just in case your head injury is worse than it looks. He also likes spending time with you.

YOU — You smile. "Sure."

HARRY DU BOIS — "Wait, really?"

LOGIC [Trivial: Failure] — Wait, really?

YOU — "I might have forgotten the case, yes. I might not remember anything in the last week or so. But I've had to deal with you while you had a midlife crisis about your forgotten identity. Now you'll have to deal with mine."

HARRY DU BOIS — "Is this extortion?"

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — The smile on this face suggests he's playing along.

YOU — "Let's call it returning the favour." You adjust the glasses on your face. "Tomorrow morning we'll meet at Precinct 41 and discuss our next step. We might be able to retrace our steps from there."

HARRY DU BOIS — "The corpse you were investigating might still be in the Morgue. We can take a look there."

YOU — "Perfect." You head for your beloved Coupris Kineema and pause by the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, detective."

HARRY DU BOIS — Harry smiles one of his secret smiles. "See you tomorrow, Kim. And…good to see you're alright. I was worried."

DRAMA [Easy: Success] — It is an understatement. He was seriously worried and he is seriously glad to see you are well and good, bixia.

LOGIC [Easy: Success] — You could tell him about us, the voices in your head. It’s surely not the same thing as what he claims to have, but he’d understand…wouldn’t he?

VOLITION — We can’t give him the satisfaction. He already thinks we’re weak enough as it is. We don’t need to make him even more concerned.

YOU — You shake your head, chuckling softly. "Don't be," you say. "I'm made from hard stuff."

With that cool line under your belt, you slip yourself into the driver's seat of the Kineema, let the engine purr underneath you, and drive off into the streets.

—

KIM'S APARTMENT — It's nightfall by the time you enter your apartment. You flicker on the lights, lock the door behind you, and let its humble atmosphere overwhelm you.

PERCEPTION (Sight) [Easy: Success] — The furniture is sparse, but the place is far from lifeless. There is a huge collection of books near a comfy couch and an even comfier reading chair. The walls are a light cream colour that resembles eggshells, or bird poop. Behind the closed door to your bedroom are the softest orange bedsheets settled amongst fluffy light-green pillows.

YOU — You head to the fridge and scrounge up the quickest dinner you can muster: a simple omelette, and eat it quickly but politely, making sure to chew with your mouth closed, never lingering on a particular flavour tone for too long.

INLAND EMPIRE — A stern older woman looks down at all the young children before her, all different races and creeds of life before coming into her care. She pulls a girl by the top of her ears for chewing too loudly. All the other children look down and continue eating, trying not to swallow too loud. It hurts, but the children would rather endure her punishment compared to the punishments of her husband.

YOU — You finish up your dinner quickly, wash it and dry it in the sink. You head for the balcony, hands already reaching for the chestnut-scented cigarettes you always keep on hand. You take the cigarette up to your lips, flicking the light of your lighter on.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Oh yeah, that's the good stuff, isn't it? The sweet, sweet nicotine. Your daily bit of sin. The one addiction you will give yourself.

AUTHORITY — But we all know your true addiction is to control. You like the idea of controlling when and where you can take your daily cigarette. You crave the idea of dominating this one bit of weakness, of curbing it to a small routine that you control. You can quit any time you want, but you don't. Harry's addicted to physical things. You're addicted to concepts.

YOU — You take a slow drag from your cigarette, the grey plumes rising up to the clouds, taking away all the sadness and bitterness of Revachol and Elysium and turning it all into ash. With every puff, you feel your mind get a bit clearer, like whatever was congesting your head is now disappearing. You've felt this before, but it feels more extreme now. Like your senses are heightened.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Impossible: Success] — Colours you couldn't see before shimmer in front of you. The night and the day join as one in holy matrimony.

PERCEPTION [Impossible: Success] — The tiniest speck in one of the apartment buildings. A man, pressed against the curtains, making love to another, bigger man, their silhouettes obscuring their depraved act from all but the peepers. Well, that, and the most observant people, such as yourself.

INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Success] — You see a clear picture of Harry in your mind's eye, impossibly detailed right down to the leather shoes. He gives you that tired smile, the one when he's had enough, when he knows he has to try something stupid, and then he grabs your face and kisses you square on the lips.

YOU — In the real world, you take another slow drag.

In Kim's World, you force his lips away, only so you can kiss him properly yourself. Harry submits pitifully, weakly, beautifully.

INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Failure] — Before your imaginary counterpart might slide Harry's mouth open, let their tongue plunge deep into Harold's throat and give you an idea of how Harry might taste like without booze and drugs on his breath, the vision vanishes, and the dark skyline of Revachol opens up for you once more.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] — The nicotine's initial kick has worn off. The world is slowly returning to normal, as are your senses.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You can't deny it. You got a bit excited from that image. Of Harry kissing you so tenderly. So desperately.

YOU — Perhaps…but nothing will ever happen between us.

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — Of course you'll never let Harry get that close. You are partners. Members of the RCM. Fraternising with your half-brother like that is incestuous and wrong.

VOLITION [Medium: Success] — Even if you weren't, you won't let yourself be so weak as to let Harry kiss you first. He needs to let you know you're in charge. You're the one that calls the shots in that relationship.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] — There'll be less pain that way.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] — But you do want him. You've never fantasised so much about kissing one man before in all your life.

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — You only allow yourself one addiction. What will it be? The cigarette, or Harry?

SHIVERS [Heroic: Success] — Both will lead to an early grave.

YOU — One final drag of the cigarette, one final plume, before you butt it out into the smoking tray. You take a cold shower, dry yourself off, and then throw yourself at the bed, curling up under the covers, naked like the day you were born.

As you close your eyes, you wonder for a minute what would happen if you were given that choice. A cigarette a day, or Harry from now until eternity, sober and kind and at the peak of his prime.

You think of the rigidity of your life structure. How Harry has disrupted it from your very first meeting. You think of the cigarette, always the same, never better or worse, a stark comparison to Harry, who has his fair share of good days and bad days in the short time you've worked together. You think of Harry's horrible penchant for karaoke, and his terrible taste in clothes, and the way his sweat stinks of booze, even when he hasn't been drinking.

You want to say you'd prefer the cigarette.

VOLITION [Impossible: Failure] — But you know, deep down, that if you are given that choice, you will always choose Harry.

[anathemafiction]

If Hadrian/Alessa got separated from MC in battle how would they react if when they're reunited MC gave them an adrenaline fuelled "I can't believe you're alive" kiss (crushing or early stages)

It wasn't supposed to happen.

You were fighting as you always did. Back to back, covering each other. But one bandit baited you forward, her quick feet leading you just the slightest bit away. Enough for someone to get between you, and suddenly you lost control of the battlefield.

You swing your battleaxe in a wide arch, your muscles taught, your lips pulled back in a snarl. She jumps back, and an elbow crashes on your back. Spinning around, you hit the second bandit with the heavy shaft of your axe and send him stumbling to the ground. Time slows as your eyes wildly dart about. There are bodies everywhere. Blood stains the grass. Screams fill the air. No sign of them. Your heart is beating so fast you fear it'll burst. No sign...

A knife flies at you, and you barely evade it. She's back, her burned face so close. Her eyes so full of hatred. You grunt and push forward. You have to finish this, you need to find them. Make sure they're safe.

It ends in a second. It takes a century. Time is feeble as your lips suck in breath greedily. Painfully. Everything hurts, but it's over. Your head is heavy as you look around.

"Hadrian!" you scream, but only your echo answers. You gasp once, and your knees nearly give out. There's a body next to you, it is facing down. It has brown hair. Your head swims as you reach forward. It cannot be.

You are being lifted. When have you gotten to the ground? Someone spins you around, and there are strong hands on your shoulders. You're staring at a face. A face you recognize. A face that makes your heart sing.

"... you well?" sound comes back to you. Hadrian's staring at you, his eyes so concerned. He shakes you lightly. "I said, are you well? My God, I- I've lost sight of you," he's shaking. You don't like that. You don't like the tightness in his voice. "I thought. Lord, I didn't-"

You reach up and grab his collar. Your lips are on his before your brain can scream for you to stop. You don't want to stop. Not when you feel his softness for the first time. You grab onto him, your hands desperate as they squeeze his shoulders, his collarbones, his chest. You want him near you, you want him forever beside you.

He's frozen, his lips still as you kiss him and for just a moment, you gain enough clarity to feel a deep heaviness settle in the pit of your stomach. Oh no. But then Hadrian's hand intertwines in your hair as he kisses you back. It's not gentle, or slow. It's desperate. You're both pulling at each other, your nails digging into his flesh, his arms strong around your waist. Your chest is against his as he slips his tongue between your teeth. You gasp and deepen the kiss. His taste is intoxicating, his warmth addicting. You've wanted this for so long.

You're both breathless as you came up for air. Hadrian still holds you tightly and as you stare at him, you see his face redder than ever before. His eyes are wide and gleaming. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

"Hadrian," you say, and the hoarseness in your voice shocks you. He simply stares back, seemingly stunned. "Hadrian," you call again. "You are starting to scare me."

He licks his lips. "I, uh. I liked that," Hadrian finally says, and his arms pull you in again. "I would... like to do it again. If, uh. If you don't mind."

You smile and lift yourself on your tiptoes. Your lips brush by his jaw, the hairs he has there tickling you slightly. "I wouldn't mind at all."

When he lowers his head to yours, however, is with gentleness. He kisses you tenderly and holds you delicately, and your head spins with all that is left unsaid.

And spot a nimble body skimming over the debris. Your heart leaps in your throat as you recognize the light brown hair bouncing with the motion. A large chunk of it had come free from the ponytail Alessa favors wearing in battle, and it left her looking in disarray.

You're running her way, relief flooding your veins. She's safe.

Alessa sees you from afar and smiles wide. It's an open smile, a proper one. Not a grin or a smirk. It makes her face light up, and you can't bear how beautiful she looks. "You are a sight to see," she calls out, her hand lifting in greeting. You're almost there. There's blood on her cheek. "I feared the worse, but it seems my fears were unfounded," you are near enough now to see the freckles on her face. "How are you f-"

Your arms go around her in a flash and you lift her to you. She gasps in surprise, but you swallow the sound as your lips crash onto hers. One of your hands cups the back of her neck, and the other caresses her cheek, the blood on it wet as you kiss her for the first time.

Alessa breaths in and soon enough you feel her respond. Her teeth pull your lower lip as her hands grab your biceps. You feel her nails on you, and the sensations make your head spin. You are relieved, you are so glad she is well, you are so glad to be touching her, to be-

Alessa pulls away from your mouth and kisses lovingly along your cheek to the side of your eye. She kisses your temple next, slowly, and you feel the adrenaline start to wear down. Alessa kisses your forehead last, and her lips linger against your skin. 

"I am glad you are well too," she whispers against you, and you hug her tighter. "But I am fine, dearest one. You can stop worrying now."

Your eyes sting as she pulls back to stare at you. Alessa smiles again. "I am fine," she says and nips the side of your mouth. "Finer than I have ever been."

[prophetparadox]

Birds of a Feather: Father and Daughter

AO3/Masterlist

Wordcount: 1,924

I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE, HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG AND I’M SORRY.

Okay, so I’ve been working on this fic on and off since August, I think? Anyway, it’s taken way too long and I’m so sorry. This isn’t a Prompto/Katia story, but it is important to Katia’s backstory and I wanted to write it so hopefully that doesn’t bother people! I really wanted to write about her and her adoptive father Stabilis since I couldn’t do so in the main story. There are spoilers for the main Birds of a Feather story though, so don’t read this if you haven’t read that one yet!

This is normally where I’d tag people, but I really don’t know if people even want to be tagged anymore. Sorry.

Stabilis Ferrum was a simple man. He had a decent job, a nice home, and a happy life. Sure, he might not have had a partner in his life, but he didn't mind. He never expected to have a family because of that, but it wasn't a big problem for him. He figured he'd live his life to the fullest, surrounded by friends. He certainly didn't expect becoming a father out of nowhere.

He'd been taking a vacation in Altissia, trading the busy royal city for a relaxing getaway. He'd been seeing the sights, enjoying the food, just about anything he could think of. And then he came back to his hotel room one night to see an ethereal woman standing there, holding a small child in her arms. The child was asleep, and very dirty. He'd never seen the little girl before, and before he knew it the woman was telling him to raise her. He tried to protest, saying he'd never been a father before, but the woman wouldn't take no for an answer. And without being able to retaliate, the woman left, leaving traces of a chill and the little girl.

Stabilis looked over the sleeping child. She had brown hair that went past her shoulders. The only thing she was wearing looked to be a white hospital gown, now covered in dirt and frayed. On her left wrist were two markings on each side. One appeared to be some kind of barcode, the other a chocobo feather. The woman had said little about this girl, merely that she had no home and no memories. He hadn't questioned her on either front. He couldn't help but wonder just what this kid had been through. Just as he'd been thinking about what to do, the girl woke up.

She sat up and looked around the room, clearly confused. She finally turned to Stabilis. "Where am I?" she asked softly. "Who are you? Who am I?"

Well, this was a problem. He thought he'd have more time to figure out what to tell her. Might as well be honest, he guessed. "Don't worry, you're safe here," he said, trying to keep this girl calm. "You're at a hotel in Altissia, my room specifically. My name is Stabilis Ferrum, though I suppose you can call me 'dad'. As for who you are, I was hoping you could tell me that. I found you on the streets all by yourself so I don't know anything about you," He figured it wouldn't matter if he embellished the truth a little bit, he couldn't exactly tell her that woman had just left her here. He got closer and leaned down so he was eye level. "Do you remember anything at all about yourself? Your name, your age, where you're from? Anything will do."

The girl sat there in silence, likely trying to remember something. After a while, she sighed and looked down at her hands. "Sorry mister, I can't," she said. "Well, except I'm 6. I just turned 6, I think."

Stabilis smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. "That's okay, you remembered something. You don't have to strain yourself." he said. He pulled out a small pocket book and checked the date. September 28th. He figured that would make her birthday nearby. He marked it down as the 26th, figuring it didn't matter if he was a few days off.

"How come I can call you 'dad'?" The girl asked.

Stabilis looked back at her. "Well, you don't have a family, so I guess I'm gonna adopt you. You're my daughter now."

The girl didn't seem to understand. "Daughter?"

How to explain this to a girl who didn't know what he meant? "Well, it means I'm gonna take care of you from now on. Once I'm done here, I'll take you home with me to Insomnia."

"The royal city?" The girl asked. Well, that at least gave him an idea that she had basic knowledge. That'd make putting her in school easier, he couldn't exactly home school her with his job. He couldn't believe he was already thinking about about her education.

"Yes, the royal city. That's where I live," Stabilis explained. "I'm not royalty or anything, but that's not important. I'm staying here for a couple more days, so I'll get you some new clothes before we leave. Unless you want to keep wearing that." He gestured to the hospital gown, getting a shake from the girl.

Her stomach began to growl, clearly she was hungry. "I'll order some room service so you can get something to eat." He began to stand up and head for the phone, but a tug on his shirt stopped him.

"Wait!" He looked down at her, a scared look on her face. She pointed to the strange barcode on her wrist. "Hide this! It's bad!"

"Bad? What is it exactly?" he asked.

"I dunno, but I don't want people to see it! It's bad!" she repeated, tears forming at the edges of her eyes. Whatever it was, she was worried about it.

"Alright, let me see what I can do," He looked around the room, trying to find something he could cover it with. He looked at the watch on his own wrist. That would work until he could find something else. He'd have to look for something while he bought her some clothes. He took off the watch and adjusted it so it fit around her smaller wrist. "There, that should do for now, Katia."

"Katia?"

"Oh, right. Well, you don't know your name, and I have to call you something, so I figured Katia could be your name," he explained. "I've always thought it was a pretty name, and decided it could be yours. Katia Ferrum, do you like it?"

She sat there in thought again, a small smile creeping on her face. "It's pretty. I like it." Katia said.

Stabilis smiled, standing up. "That's good. I'm gonna get you something to eat now, okay? You sound hungry."

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

He still couldn't believe it'd been so long. Fourteen years had passed, and he watched his daughter grow into a fine young woman. She'd even managed to make friends with the prince! Granted, he wasn't the type who cared about sucking up to royalty, he was just glad his daughter had managed to make such a great friend. Of course, there was also the Argentum boy. They got along better than anyone. He had a feeling there was more there, not that he'd pester his daughter about it.

"Hey dad, how do I look?" Katia's voice snapped Stabilis out of his thoughts. He looked over to see her wearing the Crownsguard fatigues she'd been given. He looked at her and felt proud. What parent wouldn't in this moment?

"You look amazing," he said, getting a smile in return. "They fit you perfectly."

Katia laughed a little bit. "Well I'd hope so, otherwise I'd have to get on the Marshalls case about it! I just hope the guys like it, it sucks having to keep such a huge secret in!"

"I'm certain they will," Stabilis took a sip from his mug of coffee. "You're heading out to Altissia to meet them, right?"

"Yep, I'm not about to miss Noct's wedding. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees me there!"

"He's not leaving for another week though, why head out today?"

Katia shrugged her shoulders. "Because it's more fun to surprise him? Besides, once the wedding starts I won't be able to see any of the sights! I wanna enjoy Altissia while I'm there."

"Alright, alright. I know I can't stop you," Stabilis walked over to her, a feeling of dread suddenly overwhelming him. It felt like if she left, he'd never see her again. He knew she was an adult, but deep down he couldn't help but worry a little bit. "Are you sure you want to go there alone? I wouldn't get on your way." He tried not to make his worry too obvious.

Katia just rolled her eyes. "Dad, I'm gonna be fine. Besides, you're starting to get old, no offense. I doubt you'll be able to handle Altissia at your age."

"Hey now, I'm not that old!" he laughed.

"You're old enough! I can't let ya slow me down!" The two laughed together.

Stabilis sighed. Her mind was made up. He just had to hope that his worries were unfounded. "Okay, I trust you. Just try not to get into any trouble, okay?"

"Come on dad, it's me! You got nothing to worry about!" She began to walk away so she could grab her bags.

No matter how much he tried to push it back, the fears kept coming to the front of his mind. He didn't want to believe that once she walked out that door, that she'd be gone forever. She was too important to him. He'd never had a family before she showed up that night, he didn't want to lose her.

"Alright, I should be going," Katia's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked over to see her heading towards the door.

"Wait!" he shouted, startling his daughter. He rushed over as fast as he could. "You can't leave without giving me a proper good-bye, now can you?"

Katia rolled her eyes. "You're right, how could I forget?" She placed her bag on the ground and hugged Stabilis, as he did the same. He tried his best to hold back tears, he had no reason to cry after all. Perhaps his worries were simply due to the fact that she was a young woman now, and eventually all children leave home. He didn't need to worry about that. She'd be with her friends, and maybe she'd call home saying she finally got with the Argentum boy. He was a kind soul, he'd be what she needed. He told himself all this, and yet he still hesitated to let her go.

"I love you, sweetheart." he said, hiding his worries with a smile.

"I love you too, dad," Katia replied. "I'll miss you."

"...I'll miss you too."

The two let go of each other, knowing this couldn't last. "I'll call you when I make it to the hotel. Or if some disaster happens, whichever one comes first." Katia said, picking up her bag.

"I hope it'll be the first one. I can't help much since I'll be here after all." Stabilis went back to his coffee, sipping down the bitter brew.

"You and me both," Katia stopped for a moment, going back to her father and kissing him on the cheek. "Wish me luck!"

Stabilis kissed her cheek as well. "May the Six keep you safe on your journey."

Katia headed out the door, leaving him alone in his house. He walked into the living room, picking up an old photograph of the two of them. He took it not long after he adopted her, both of them were smiling. Times were simple then, now everything was changing.

Of course, he knew not of the events that would take place in Insomnia a week later. He knew not that he would die in the attack on the royal city. He knew not that Katia would hear of the attack and desperately try to contact him in the hope that he was alive. Nothing could tell him the future. All he could do was reminisce on the past, and hope his daughter would have a happy future.

[strivingscribe]

Salt of the Earth ~ Ch 008

Salt of the Earth by MsMoon

Chapter 8 ~ Dungeons & Disclaimers

Chapters: 8/?

Chapter Navigation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,

Fandom: Young Justice

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Feelings? Violence?

Relationships: Nope.

Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesn’t want to be a member of the team?

Author’s Notes: Hey, guys. It's been forever. I'm just gonna leave this here. I hope you like it :)

Conner had to cross two streets before he finally got a signal on his comm. “Conner here. Robin? You there?”

“Reading you loud and clear. How is she?”

“Shaken and stirred, I bet.” Conner smirked at Artemis’s quip.

“She’s managing, but it isn’t easy.”

“I just got word that Superman is talking options with her mom.” Robin informs and Conner’s brow jumped up and he huffed out a self-depreciating laugh… what are the odds?

“Why’s your signal two streets over?” Artemis asked.

“Couldn’t raise you. Took a bit of a jog to get a signal through.”

The pause that followed gave the three of them a moment to think.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Artemis is always happy to point out the obvious.

“No.” Robin replies, and Conner can almost imagine the sound of the keyboard keys clacking.

“Could it be her?”

“How do you mean?” Artemis asked.

“She was in pain, something about the lead affecting her. She walked funny too, dragging her feet a bit. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary, but I got the impression there are physical side effects from her abilities.” His words hault, as he considers how much he should say.

He wasn’t just wasn’t sure how much she would want to keep confidential. But these were his observations, so that was safe… Still, should he divulge more? Would they need more to make a decision properly?

“The house has been quiet through the morning. The transcript is still running. I didn’t suspect anything, considering that it’s supposed to be quiet, but something’s jamming the signal.”

“Did she mention anything about it?” Artemis probed.

“Did she mention specifically being able to jam comms?” Robin clarified, choosing to focus on the more troubling matter at hand. “They were working properly up until a few minutes ago. Unless she managed to acquire new abilities this morning.”

“She’s...less than forthcoming.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

Conner looked back towards the Moore house. Everything seemed quiet.

“Maybe you should go and check it out, Conner.” Artemis suggested. “Just to be safe.” she waited, and her only response was silence. “Conner?” she ground her back teeth together. Slowly Artemis started nodding her head. “He’s already on his way, isn’t he?”

“His com just went offline again.” Tim informed as he watched the signal disappear from the map readout.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anita stares at Luthor and the woman just behind him in apathetic shock. There are so many emotions bottlenecked in her throat that she can’t process a single one of them… Her brain has become a chamber of echoes.

She’s used to peculiarity. When you have to deal with younger siblings and superpowers on a regular basis, the absurd happens often.

But she is a rational, orderly-type person. Everything has its place...every thing, every person, every practice, every thought. Everything in. its. place.

Home is safe (just like baseball). Safe and for safe things.

Her eyes drift to the far wall and her mother’s ancient bureau.

“And then God said, ‘Let’s cook this day fuck-side up’, and it was so.” she murmurs to herself before sloughing off her backpack. It isn’t supposed to go in the chair by the door, but today appears to be that sort of day.

A startled almost begrudging laugh echoed form Luthor. Vile intruder that he is. He would be amused at her suffering.

“Our conversation is not over.” he announced, as though his appearance were magnanimous and for her benefit. “And I will not be denied.” ah. There was the edge she expected from a rational sociopath.

Psychopath?

Sociopath?

...she could debate later.

Anita tugged off her shoes, because she was in her own goddamn house and she’d chew aluminum before any outsider told her she couldn’t do what she wanted in her house.

“Suppose I should let you speak your piece.” she muttered. “You’ve made it clear that you have no intention of being discarded.”

He smiled. “At last we understand each other.”

She was so frustrated with this situation, but there was a strange… braking point. It wasn’t that she was unhinged, but she felt so detached from her own circumstances.

She knew she couldn’t fight her way away from Luthor. It would be foolish to try. This was a man of intelligence, at least that’s what he told himself. His ability to be prolific in his circle of influence was due largely to outplaying his adversaries. Even Superboy had said that he owned most of the city...and probably a lot of other places too. If Metropolis were a chess board, it would be hard to find a single square that Luthor couldn’t get to.

Her mind latched onto another thought. It was simple, even if utterly absurd. Bring him into an arena in which she isn’t powerless. There was a place in this very house where she was the master of the universe…. the table where she would play dungeon master for her brothers and their friends. If she could be that person, the one who created the world around him instead of allowing him to have his own control...maybe she could at least stall him.

...or maybe she was fooling herself, and this was nothing more than an elaborate comfort mechanism. Either way, it was something.

“We do not, sir. We do not at all.” Anita grumbled, walking to the center of the living room. “It isn’t uncommon for a man to chase after something he wants, but most of those wants are tied to reason. Only a madman chases things that are unequal to his efforts.….a madman or a fool, and you are not either.” she allowed her eyes to drift as she thought about this. “There can be no reason equal to these actions. There’s no need to waste water on tears while you’re in the desert.” his eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. “This is trespassing, breaking and entering, and harassment. Even if the charges wouldn’t ever see a courtroom... you can’t deny that it makes a man of your situation look bad.” She half scoffed, “Chasing a teenage girl this way.”

“I am not concerned with my appearance.”

“Oh, I think you are.”Anita countered, her eyes widening expressively. “These actions coil of ego. And I cannot fathom how I have any worth in comparison.” she plants her feet shoulder width apart, an easy act as her ankles still feel weighted. “It’s illogical. You are no small fish. Yet you remain. What could possibly be worth your time, crowding in my little pond?”

“I am flattered by your estimation of me.” he said. He seemed so at home in a space that wasn’t for him. It would be unsettling, but Anita forced herself still and chanted mentally to play to his ego as often as she could without it being too obvious. “This is my assistant. Mercy.” The woman stepped forward and nodded.

“How ironic.” Anita drawled with a smile of her own.

Again, Luthor chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were entertaining as well as intelligent.”

“You aren’t here to comment on things I already know.”

“I assure you, I am no adversary of yours.” his words sound so genial, and yet there is no assurance in his assurances. “Not yet.” And there he went, insinuating that edge into the conversation. “I have disabled the listening devices planted in your home so that we might speak privately. I’m sure it’s knocked out long-distance communications as well.”

Anita’s mind hummed as she processed this. Jamming frequency. Listening devices. Long-range communications. What for? Privacy? An attack of opportunity? He had to know she was being monitored….

Of course, now she realized how invasive that monitoring had been. The listening devices were in her home.

“No idea how long it’ll take them to realize.” she murmured. “You’d better say what you need to say.” she walked past him into the kitchen. “Coffee?” that’s something adults do, right?

“No, thank you.” he responded, eyeing her as she sat at the table. “As to my intent…. A recent associate of mine seems to consider you in high regard.”

“Associate.” She sat back in her chair, forcing her spine to relax against the chair back.

“I would be more forthcoming if I could.” Luthor admitted. “However, stipulations were made in our alliance, and they are centered on you. Of course, like any good businessman, I had to investigate this oddity. Know your enemy, know yourself; all that.”

“That’s reasonable.” she allowed. She’s honestly more concerned with the comment about knowing your enemy. “In this scenario, when you say ‘enemy’... are you referring to me, or…?” he laughed, interrupting her question, and she nodded feeling reassured. “This mysterious associate then.”

“After yesterday’s debacle, I think we can confirm that said attentions are not entirely unfounded.” Luthor said, meandering slowly back into the kitchen and sitting across from her. Mercy remained standing, just behind him and slightly in the doorway between rooms.

Anita’s eyes narrowed slightly.

So. He did know about the incident on the bridge… but how?

“I didn’t realize you had any hand in that Metro-Narrows fiasco.” she said, and he smirked.

“I...can neither confirm nor deny—”

“It’s a little late for disclaimers.” Anita grumbled. “Besides, with the communications disabled, it’s not like you’ll have to worry about incriminating evidence.”

“True, but you could tell anyone you liked.” she watched his throat flex in a very firm swallow. “Perhaps someone who regularly sports an over-embellished S on his chest.”

Anita snorted. “The likelihood of me remaining on close terms with people I regularly push away hardly seems a decent fear. Not to mention, their knowing one way or the other wouldn’t be of any inconvenience to someone like yourself.” That’s it. Play to that ego. She eyed the tablecloth, absently wondering why gingham was a pattern her mother loved so much. “That asshole in the masks was with you?”

Now his smirk unfurled into a full grin.

“Yes. The ‘asshole in the masks’ is ‘with me’.” he says... Something about him seems more relaxed now. “At least, I am aware of his activities via….” he paused, taking and releasing a breath as he searched for the right word.

“Associates?”

He smirks again. “Yes. Associates.”

“Hm.” she murmurs, still staring at the tablecloth. “Tangled web.” her absent words aren’t really meant for anyone. Her eyes snap up, fixating on his tie. “So you’re here…. to see me with your own eyes?”

“It’s best we meet now, before you’re steeped in whatever dogma the League will stew you in.” he countered, leaning his elbows forward and folding his hands under his chin.

So.. He isn’t just here to see her, see who she is… He’s also here to find out if she’s a threat, and see if he can secure an in.

Her eyebrows tick up, there’s a level of annoyance and suspicion evoked from those words. For both of them, it seems. She reminds herself to remain calm.

Well. First, she needs to keep herself safe.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I have no desire to festoon myself in spandex and “fight” crime.” she announced, using air brackets for added emphasis on the word ‘fight’. “All I want is peace.”

“You wanted more than peace yesterday.” He reminds.

“I suppose allowing Superboy to die would have been giving him a type of peace, but… the way of the grave is less than satisfying.” Again, his eyes narrow at her words.

“Well.” Luthor sat back in his chair, eyeing her. “What I want you to consider then, is this. Do you honestly think the Justice League will allow you the peace you so crave?”

“Why should they not?”

“I believe my presence alone will prompt immediate action on their part.” He announces.

Now it’s Anita’s turn to regard him with narrowed eyes. They wandered to the far wall.

“Sir.” Mercy interrupts. “Superboy appears to be circling the house.”

“How wide a radius?”

“He’s observing from other yards.”

“Hm.” Luthor smirked. “It won’t take him long to close in. My boy is not the brightest, but he learned caution well enough.” Anita blinks, her eyebrows lift and her eyes dart back to Luthor in surprise. “Ah, I imagine he prefers not to discuss his parentage with errant damsels.” Lex said, in a way that’s so patronizing and yet fond...he almost seems like an indulgent parent.

It’s bothersome because she isn’t certain where those feelings are truly aimed. It seems… just… there. But for all Anita knows, he could feel them for her or Superboy… what a psycho.

“I’m a millennial, Mr. Luthor.” Anita reminded. “If there’s one creed we adhere to, it’s not judging someone for their circumstances.” Lex huffed out another laugh. “Everyone has their own sword of Damocles….” Anita admitted, almost an aside to herself. “..and genetics don’t matter until they do.”

“And who decides when genetics matter?” Luthor asked, his words as sharp as his focus.

“That’s a philosophical question I haven't the time for. I imagine you don’t have the time for it either.” she muttered with a shrug. “It’s enough to know that everyone decides when and how much genetics matter to them as it suits them. Do they matter to you?”

Lex pondered this for a second before a smile curls at his lips. “Are you...stalling me?”

“I confess, we’ve had quite the conversation, but I still don’t know what you want.” she says, crossing her arms. “I suggest you make your closing statements simple. It would be a shame to be….” she pauses, huffing out a tiny laugh. “...interrupted.”

Lex actually laughed again. “Then I suppose it is lucky that my message is relatively basic. I only want to convey that you have options that don’t begin and end with the League. Their pomp and circumstance are hardly the ways of peace you seem so eager to embrace.”

Three knocks at the front door, hard, heavy, and unrelenting. “Anita?” Superboy, his voice as urgent as the knocks on the door. It is so strange to hear him call her name…

“Back door’s open.” Anita’s tone doesn’t slip any higher than a typical conversational tone, but she knows he can hear her. “This ‘associate’ of yours. You never mentioned exactly what ‘they’ wanted.”

“Unfortunate then, that our time is up.” Luthor murmured.

“Well played, or it would be if that were enough to tempt me to initiate or maintain contact.”

Luthor takes merely a second to weigh his options. “My associate wants ….anonymity.” his eyebrows jump and his eyes roll. “There’s a question as to how effective that demand will be, considering the absurdity of it.”

The back door swung open, and Superboy stopped only to glare at Luthor. Mercy’s posture became tense, as she stepped into the kitchen.

“Luthor.” Superboy growled. Anita was momentarily distracted by the change in his posture. This is the boy who’d ambled beside her down the street, slouching with his hands in his pockets? Now… His shoulders seem… loaded. Not hunched, but more imposing. His neck was almost bent forward, almost as if in preparation for a luge.

“Hello, son.”

Superboy actually bared his teeth. “I don’t care what you’re doing here. Get out.”  

Luthor’s eyes almost softened, though only by a fraction. Then he looks back to Anita. “Is that what you would prefer?”

Anita takes a deep breath through her nose, somewhat surprised that she was being consulted… The man with the devil’s smile was most concerned with being courteous now? After insinuating himself into her safe space….. the cheek.

“As fascinating as this conversation has been—and trust me, it truly has been—I would prefer my mother’s house to remain unscathed.” she said.

Luthor nods, rising slowly. “Please, consider our conversation carefully.” he advised in closing.

“Thank you for your time.” she responded, and it felt almost cordial, if not for how automated it sounded. He gave her one last smirk, and she hoped that means he found her curious or amusing.

He strolled to the front door, Mercy hovering just behind(again, the most ironic name. It’s almost poetic ‘Mercy strolls in Luthor’s Shadow’, or something like that). She eyed Superboy as the front door was opened, only returning to Luthor’s side once he’d passed through the portal.  

Superboy relaxed when the door was shut, only to start in surprise when Anita’s chair scraped out a foghorn sound as she pushed it away from the table. She half collapsed onto her knees, slithering into a heap beneath the table.

“Anita.” he murmured, crouching down to check on her.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” she whispered, but her breathing was off. She drew air in and held it for what felt like long seconds at a time.

He realized that she was counting out how long the process takes for each part. The taking of breath, the holding, and the releasing. A simple coping mechanism, not a health hazard.

“Superboy, come in.” The comm was loud in the stillness. Even Anita could hear it.

“Superboy here.”

“Finally.” Robin’s voice was a breath of relief. “We’re closing in on your location.”

“We?”

“Impul—uh..Kid Flash, Artemis, and I.” after a second he half muttered. “The computers run themselves, after all.”

“Status report?” this came from Artemis.

“Luthor was here, but he’s gone.”

“Damn. What did he do?”

“Other than knocking out the comms and having a chat?” Anita muttered, massaging her temples. “You put bugs in my house?”

“Listening devices.” Superboy admitted. “And just two of them, to keep an eye on things.”

“To keep an ear on things.” Anita corrected, her shoulder leaning heavily against the table leg as she pitched forward. “And not very well, it seems.”

“Is she really mad that we spied on her?” Artemis grumbled over the comms.

“Am I angry that you violated my civil liberties?” Anita clarified, and Superboy had to wonder how keen her hearing was. “No. I’m angry that you did so, and it didn’t do a goddamn bit of good.”

“Here.” Conner offered her a hand, and she stared at it and then at him. He watched as she contemplated this, her hands coming up to grip the table leg and not his offer of help.

“Could you just… turn around?” she asked, and he complied because… well.

Many people could lecture her on relying on the help of others, but he had been in that place. The spot where you’re confused and you feel shaky, and you just want to find your footing all on your own… and you don’t want anyone to see the struggle. He’d definitely been there.

“I’ll open the front door.”

He doesn’t see her nod, because he knows better than to watch her as she processes and recovers.

“I’m sending Kid Flash to deliver a message to the mother.” Robin announced over the comm. “It’s as good as alerting the League, since Superman is there.”

Anita heard that, and something about it gave her pause. She was suspended in a strange headspace, anxiety hovering there with her. She took a breath, and reminded herself that she couldn’t remain idle. Things needed to be done. She walked through the kitchen doorway and into the living room.

“How much time do we have?” she asked, and Superboy finally turned to look back at her.

“Not much.”

She nodded but was avoiding direct eye contact.

Her eyes landed on the chair near the door. Her hand shot out, snatching her backpack up onto her shoulder. As she was trotting up the stairs to her room, he heard her mutter, “Come at me.”

...it didn’t sound confrontational, so much as motivational.

Well, I feel better :)