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marvellovegalore · 3 years ago

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Loving You

Chris Evans

Synopsis: Chris is over the moon, he's met you and life couldn't be better - you're all he's ever dreamed of and there's nothing you could do to ruin that.

Warning: explicit language, sexual content

No one in your industry would ever consider you difficult to work with, neither mean, arrogant, conniving or calculating. Most would go out of their way to praise you, proclaim their adoration for the movie star of dreams. On the other hand, your previous partners would. Ex-boyfriends that would bravely volunteer to be interviewed about your past relationship would recount their experiences with the same look as a shell-shocked soldier. If they could, they would gather in a support group for those left with deeply affecting, unresolved trauma - left by you.

You would deny it, if you could be bothered; or if the media had declared your heartbreaker ways to be of public interest. Which they are, but you’re largely untouchable therefore they're unreported. A Hollywood starlet, philanthropist, trend setter and tastemaker - alongside with being viewed largely as a sweetheart. Your childhood nannies coming in storming with adulations and saccharine recollections of a sweet and shy child. Friends that are more than happy to celebrate you on social media and fans who fill the internet with high production videos of you strutting on the streets and red carpets cement the idea that you are the moment, and you are loved.

To the world outside of the sphere of your ex-boyfriends, you were the most eligible bachelorette. There was no flaw in sight, no illusion to dispel or enchantment to break; you’re the real deal. Until you get bored, and you need to hurt someone. Because hurt people, hurt people. As the saying goes. There’s no need to go into that - just yet.

So, when Christopher saw you at the 2019 Vanity Fair Oscars after party, he fell head over heels. Your eyes cast a spell on him, and the enchantment was cast by the world’s master mage, you. You barely realised what you did, you were in no mood to flirt or truly fraternise. You were attempting to drown your sorrows of missing out on another Oscar win for the second time - in a mojito glass. You looked spectacular, possibly more than how you looked during the ceremony. But to Chris, your face of indignation looked like the angelic expression of a good second place loser with no hard feelings. He attempted to approach you, but too many people go into his way, they came with unprovoked film criticisms and pseudo interview responses that would get them into the academy board. All he wanted was to see your face up close and know how you spoke when you weren’t being regarded by a crowd of enraptured spectators.

He could see that you weren’t being left alone either, you hadn’t won the Oscar, but you are being treated as if you did. Your eyes bounce off of him every once in a while, but he couldn’t capture your attention - and then you left the party. You hardly made the French exit you were seeking. Stars old and young clamoured to say their goodbyes and kisses on your cheeks. You finally managed to escape. If Chris were to attempt to lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed, a blind woman could have seen right through him. His heart dropped, and he couldn’t explain why - he didn’t even know you.

Some other actor friends managed to drag him to a more intimate after party, the setting hardly intimate. A compound nestled in Hidden Hills, twenty-four-hour security circling the property, of one starlet who presented herself at the beginning of the night but chose an early slumber rather than socialising.

You came in half an hour after him, a miniskirt showing off your incredible legs - which were insured for an absurd amount.

His breath caught in his mouth. You were dressed down, but you looked too incredible to even try and claim you didn’t try. Everyone’s head turned and everyone was captured by the beauty at the door, accompanied by a friend. Your demure appearance fooling everyone into thinking that the attention was unwanted. You grabbed yourself a drink and half an hour later you were still enveloped with a group of equally intoxicated friends.

Though, Chris was determined to get your attention. He grabbed a drink off of the barman and slowly and easily made his way to you. The word ‘chill’ being chanted over and over again in his head. He was dead set on not making a fool of himself. Three steps away from you, glass of mojito clutched in his hands, his anxiety being beaten down and desperately suffocated into his stomach and away from his brain. He goes over his words, and before he finishes walking to you, you turn suddenly.

Your eyes pierce into his, a smirk glossing your lips. “Hi.” Your voice is low, characteristically different from your stage voice - your accent just as strong.

“Hey, got this for you.” Chris thrusts the glass into your unexpectant hand, some of the drink splashing out over the frosted rim. “Hope, it’s not too presumptive of me to have gotten it for you?” His eyes have glossed over, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. You shake your head no, a sweet smile playing at your lips. He’s even easier on the eyes much closer up. “Sorry you didn’t win that Oscar, real shame, I was rooting for you!”

You store it in the back of your mind that this man manages to look like a golden retriever even when he’s several drinks down, “It’s nothing, what does it mean anyway, I’ll still get more jobs in the future.” You take a sip of your drink after he takes a sip of his.

He compliments your eyes, your complexion and goes on an eager rant of how much he admires your capacity for acting. You drink in the adoration diluted by alcohol and take his words with a pinch of salt. After twenty minutes of solid, drunken conversation you’ve moved to a nook shadowed by statues. Your legs next to his on the red velvet sofa. You remark on the class of the artistic statues, clearly purchased illegally from a Mediterranean museum. He barely takes in your words, much preferring to intoxicate himself with the sight of you - and his fifth beer.

You’ve decided that you want him. Badly. But you’ve sussed him out. He’s not just going to be a one-night stand - in the animal kingdom he’s a Golden Retriever, and those aren’t dogs to be messed with. Your last fling was essentially a Doberman pinscher - discardable - but this Chris had to reeled in slowly.

You interrupt his musing about the Boston markets with a kiss.

Your lips smoothly capture his, your lipstick smearing over his lips. His hand presses tightly on the small of your back, arm underneath your waist holding you up higher. Stars explode inside your eyelids and his fingers grip tightly onto your shirt as your tongue licks his bottom lip. Your entry is granted, you lips pressing tighter against each other. Your eyelashes dance over his. Your hands rise to his face, your hands imprinting themselves onto his cheekbones. His hand brushes over the bare skin of your leg, his fingertips tracing the insides of your thighs. A small moan rises from the back of his throat.

The hold you have on him is cemented, you part away from him. You untangle yourself from him and stand up from the sofa, your eyes refusing to look at him, you smooth your clothes and slowly strut away from him.

Chris looks at the fire that you’ve set on his limbs in disbelief, he doesn’t grasp what you’ve just done. Did he do something wrong? Does he smell? No. You just didn’t care for the ceremony of the first ‘after-kiss’ moments.

He doesn’t see you for a year.

You truly are elusive - to the media and him.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind, and the fact that you starred in another award-nominated film did little to help him forget you.

You were curious to understand whether you really enticed him or not. You decided to not pursue that line of questioning, and never bothered to reply to his direct messages. It wasn’t done with the intent of hurting him, you just didn’t care. But life has a way of putting things in your way that deep down you didn’t know you wanted.

Nevertheless, here you are, with your boyfriend of a year - Christopher, sat across from you telling you story about his nephew. You simper, your eyes flitting between the sight of him and the view of the sea. The coast of Martha’s Vineyard enraptures you, you drink your wine, eyes steadily moving to the coastal view.

You grew up coming here. Your family often choosing the quiet island to rest in during the late spring holidays. You brought Chris back here to stay at your family holiday home as it’s not too far from his own family home, a perfect last stop after spending the week with his family.

He watches you curiously, his blue irises begging you to let him in to your thoughts. You refuse silently and beckon the waiter. You ask for the bill, it’s quickly on the table and you pay - ignoring Chris’ refusals. You smile at him, for the second time during dinner. He responds in kind, remarking on your bad mood and how he’s glad you’ve cheered up after having some food. He muses on the lovely weekend you’ve had together as you leave the restaurant. Candlelight following you as you make your exit with your hands holding each other tightly, his other hand in his preppy shorts.

You walk slowly, watching the sunset. His arm finding its way around your shoulders. His sweet and intimate embrace enveloping you in warmth. Your heart beats quickly against his bicep as you near your home. Your hands tremble for some reason and you practically sprint up the porch steps after you’ve crossed the gate and walkway, leaving Chris five steps behind you.

You open the door and make a quick beeline for the kitchen in the far back of the house. You enter the pantry, ignoring Chris’ questions of what is wrong. You take a bottle of Rosé out of the wine fridge and forgo pouring it into a glass and drink it straight from the bottle. It tastes incredibly sweet, and Chris finds you eventually in the pantry. He looks at you in surprise as you gulp the drink.

“Everything okay, baby?” He walks to you, his hands failing onto your hips, his adoring eyes almost boring into your soul. You refuse him entry into the pits of your emotions. Steeling yourself against the onslaught of therapy-like talk.

You don’t want him to know that hurt people, hurt people. And that you’re one of them.

You kiss him, silencing his calming words.

His fingers tighten on your sundress. The colour melding with the colour of his fingers. Your lips become one.

You go through the steps of getting out of the pantry in a seemingly choreographed dance, your dance ends in the smaller reception room; your bodies tangling themselves on the rug. Neither of you giving a care to fact that you’re undressing in front of the window overlooking the pool and coast.

The flickers of the setting sun’s rays highlight his now bare chest. He returns his lips to yours in a hypnotising kiss. Your hands dance with the muscles of his back as you caress his skin, his torso vibrating in between your legs with the fervour of his movements. Your dress is ripped off your body. He directs his attention to your right breast, his soft lips caressing your skin. His tongue lashes slowly against your nipple, you fight to hold back your moans as his hand lowers to your pussy. His fingers pushing aside your pants, his fingers sink into you like it’s their second nature. Your head rolls back as he makes love to you with his fingers and his lips lower down to where his fingers are. He licks you where you need him most, his love for you being written inside you with his tongue.

You orgasm. Slowly.

And all that runs through your mind is how much you’ll miss him.

You pull him up to you, you turn over and straddle him. Tasting yourself on his lips as the sun sets even lower. The waves crash against the shore violently as the wind picks up. You lower yourself onto him and start riding him, your hips bucking in an impassioned manner against his. He doesn’t hold back his moans as he caresses your breasts and stomach.

You realised you loved him four months ago, but every time you catch sight of his loving eyes when you’re fucking, it makes you fall in love all over again.

Chris switches and puts you on all fours, he grips your hair in his hands, the rising intensity making him grip you harder. His thrusts are merciless, his spare hand spanking you and stroking, you’re on the cusp of a sensory overload when he turns you over. On your back you have the most beautiful view. A strong ray of sunlight brightening his eyes as he makes love to you. His kisses are tender but intense. His hand grips onto yours, your fingers intertwined and his other hand griping onto your face.

A tear slips out of your eye, you wipe it away quickly. Your increased sensitivity makes the second orgasm come, Chris fucks you through your breathy moans and you throw your head back. Momentarily blinded by the bliss; the pink sky wakes up from the saccharine, cloudy state. Chris orgasms into you with four thrusts.

You push away from him and stand up; you pull on your silky pants. You sigh and leave Chris on laying breathless on the rug. You walk upstairs and enter your room. You use the toilet, wash your hands, have a glass of water and throw on a short black dress. As you pull on your boots Chris enters the room, a smile gracing his lips.

He pulls on some shorts, “Want to tell me what all that was about?” He gives you a confused expression as he lies back against the bed, taking one of the fluffed pillows from behind him and tucking it between his chest and arms.

Hurt people, hurt people.

You turn towards him, facing away from your walk-in closet. “When we fuck, I have to think about other men to get through it.”

His eyes widen alarmingly, he turns to you, the light of the tv making him blue. “Say that again?” The disbelief is almost tangible in his words.

“I feel embarrassed about being seen with you now. I feel I’m just too good for you.” You walk into the closet and you hear him stomp off the bed.

“No, rewind to what you first said.” His voice is louder, his features twisted with confusion and hurt.

“I have to think of other guys to get off,” your eyes connect with his, you don’t look away, you fight the smirk biting at your lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you any longer. I’m sick of it.” You grab the suitcase that was packed for you when you were at the restaurant. “Also, you’re not as ripped as you were when we met, there’s other guys that can provide that image for me.”

“Take it back.” The hurt he’s feeling is completely tangible now. “Take it back right now. Right. Now.” His eyes are pleading with you to have mercy.

You've decided that you've gone past the point of no return. “I’d be happy never have to see you or have to hear from you - ever again.” You scan his eyes, your heart swelling with an eerie feeling of pride as his eyes flood with held back tears.

“This must be some elaborate prank— “he chokes on his words, his hands reach for yours, but you step back.

“This year has been tedious, completely boring and I’ve gotten nothing but only ten decent fucks from you.” Not true, and both of you can attest to that, you've had the best sex, your mutual adoration is clear when you make love. So, Chris is at a loss to understand how this is all being said and happening. “I’m off to New York, stay as long as you like or don’t. I don’t care. Have a nice life.” You slip past him.

Taking his heart and soul with you.

He can’t stop the tears from ballooning in his eyes and then trickling down his cheeks.

He must be stuck in a nightmare. He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing in this closet filled with your clothes, your smell haunting him.

He rushes downstairs and there’s no sign of you. He stumbles outside and there’s no sign of you or your driver. He rushes in to get his phone and calls you. Five times. The sixth time it goes straight to voicemail.

He feels his heart break.

He falls right in the spot he’s in. He vomits his heart out, the pieces being spat out onto the wooden floors. The blood shinning underneath the soft lights of the lamps.

He wants death. Slow and steady death.

——

Part Deux -

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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

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YANDERE ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA x FEM ! READER

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dubcon/noncon, abuse, anxiety, drugging, guilt, kidnapping, abduction,

FATE

It was fate. That’s what he’d said. It was a rather brief encounter. She woke up, in a bed that was not her own, in a dark room devoid of windows, smelled a smell she could only be describe as dust, with a man she didn’t quite recognize. He lurked in the corner, quietly observing her in her slumber. Wanting so badly to touch her, because he knew he could. And he had, until that nagging feeling of guilt surfaced and he forced himself to retract his hand from traveling up her thigh and confined himself to the corner of the room. His fingers itching to touch her soft, warm skin. He admonished himself for using too much of the drug, perhaps she would have woken up already if he’d been more careful, but he figured it was a safety measure that had to be done, otherwise she might’ve woken up before he’d gotten her to his room. And what was worse was that when she did finally wake up he didn’t have much time to explain. He was happy she didn’t scream, but that could have been the drug. She most certainly wasn’t as docile when he came back.

That was a while ago now. Or… at least it felt that way to him. He was so itchy. Seeing her every day. And only barely being allowed to touch her didn’t help. In fact, it only made him that much more itchy. He tried his best to be kind, to be understanding. Not wanting her to grow bored in his absence. He’d even allowed her access to his console and games, however offline. But there was hope; she seemed to have accepted the situation more now. She had at least stopped screaming and struggling and using every second on trying to escape. He felt that maybe she was more inclined to be with him now, after spending so many hours alone. He wished she wouldn’t fight him. He really didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but… he was just so itchy.

She cursed her quirk. It had always been a nuisance. At the doctors she had to file for traditional check-ups because no healing quirk could surpass her immunity. It was a joke at best. Quirks couldn’t touch her. When it came to Tomura, she definitely saw it as a cruel joke. Without her quirk he had the power to kill her on the spot, however with her quirk the monster had fallen in love with her, clung to her as though she were the only person left on earth. What was worse was that she actually sympathized with him. “It must be a terribly lonely existence.” That’s what she’d said to him under their first encounter. This, however, by no means meant she was going to willingly become his little pet. She struggled throughout the entirety of her first day, screaming her lungs out, crying her eyes out, kicking until she had no more energy to give and then fallen asleep, only to have awoken with his arms slung around her, tightly gripping onto her as though his life depended on it. That day too, she’d thrashed and sneered when he tried touching her. However, there came the third day… when he snapped.

This was yesterday. She woke up with her wrist tied snuggly together above her head, more rope connecting them to the bedpost. A product of his growing impatience. She began hysterically crying once he climbed on top of her, begging him, pleading, bargaining, saying his name as though he were some type of malicious God she had to satisfy.

And although he’d gone through the lengths and extremities of threatening to kill all her acquaintances to quit her objections, he couldn’t go through with it. Again, he didn’t want her to feel abused. He didn’t want to cause her any pain nor be the reason behind her tears. He didn’t want her to fear him or hate him, he wanted the opposite. He adored her. All he wanted was some peace of mind, and she served as his only sanctuary.

He hadn’t fully realized how badly he wanted her before he held her in his arms throughout that entire night. He always enjoyed sleep, but with her lying against him it became nothing short of heaven. With her wrists still tied together, there was little she could do to stop him, his death threats still lingering in the air, when he started decaying every piece of clothing. Feeling the tremors run through her. The quaking as his hands danced up her exposed skin, playing with what they found. Feeling her recoil into him each time he would, in his amateurism, pinch too hard. He thought of her continuous quivering as similar to when a puppy wags its tail, to distract himself from what it really indicated. It was easy to forget himself when she was soft like velvet and smooth like silk and warm like life itself up against him. He didn’t do much more. Untying her before he had to go. Watching her rub her sore wrists made his stomach fold in guilt when he left this morning. He apologized, but she didn’t answer.

Stealing her was selfish, he could admit that, but he would make it up to her if she only allowed him one little taste…

She sat on the bed when he came back, wet hair dripping onto the sheets. She showered before he came, an attempt to wash the night off her, it only mildly irked him. He couldn’t stay mad though, not when she was sitting there so preciously with his black hoodie on, looking at him with such wide, glossy eyes. He kept the room dark; light irritated his skin, and he didn’t want to feel anything but comfort when he was with her. Besides, maybe the dark could make him seem just a little bit more appealing. She still flinched when he made to touch her.

Not wanting to scare her, he decided to kneel down instead. Enjoying how her feet didn’t meet the ground when she sat propped up on the bed. Taking her ankles, delicately gliding his fingers around them, and placed them on top of his thighs. Not letting go. He leaned his forehead against her knee, feeling as though her warm skin was absolution itself, a paradise of some sorts. She didn’t say anything, but the uncontrolled breaths were loud enough to indicate her fear. She was the one person he couldn’t harm, yet somehow, she seemed more afraid than anyone else. He would’ve laughed, but it wouldn’t have helped.

He dragged his fingers alongside her legs and came to a halt at her knees, wanting to part them. He hadn’t given her anything to wear, not seeing the point as they would probably be disintegrated anyway. She hadn’t taken the opportunity to put on one of his boxers either. All the clothes she came in were a pile of ash, thanks to him. In other words; his hoodie was the only thing she was wearing. How could he possibly hold himself back? It was almost as though she meant to antagonize him.

She felt the pressure he added to his fingertips, her knees slowly starting to spread. She curled her toes, a small whimper spluttering past her lips. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she stopped him. Taking his hands in hers. He didn’t seem all too provoked. Giving him a desperate look, one that was met with an even stronger, hungrier desperation. He leaned his chin on her knee, observing with a curious look as she intertwined her fingers with his. It was a weak attempt, but he seemed subdued. It was only for a brief moment.

“This is nice...” It reverberated through her legs, his Adam’s apple bobbing up against her kneecap. “But…” It came only a second later, however it sounded so much darker. It was such a heavy word, one laced with a sense of defeat, an apology. “I need more.” He’s fast, it only took a second before she was on top of him. Quickly propping her legs up around his waist and lifting, turning them around so she could sit firmly slotted in his lap. She knew not to struggle. He was still dangerous. Slender, but not without muscle. He was lanky and tall and above all else; devoted. There was no stopping him.

Her shoulders still grazed, although she tried to calm herself. For some reason she still didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Didn’t want to upset him. It didn’t take long before he disintegrated the hoodie, earning a tremor and a gasp from her. The feeling waved over him. He would have enjoyed it, but he was much too surprised to find yet another piece of clothing beneath. Surprised, only slightly disappointed. It was like unwrapping a present, he humored silently to himself.

He could tell it was best to go slow, in order not to break the shell. He didn’t want her to cry, and he was sure if he did too much too fast, she would almost certainly start bawling. Giving into simply brushing the now settled dust off her, yet quickly getting carried away. Digging his calloused fingers into the doughy flesh of her thighs, all very slowly, enjoying himself carefully. He was still getting used it, marveling at how she didn’t fall apart under his touch. Still, he wanted more, he needed more. He glid his hands up the sides of her waist and she started shaking. Trembling knees, caused trembling thighs and so on and so forth, and the feeling of her quaking against him felt nothing short of unhinging. His mouth watered and he had to swallow, trying his best to pace his breathing, failing however, it only made him sound that much more crazed.

“Tomura…” It was a small attempt at a protest, especially when he quite enjoyed the sound of his name drip so sweetly off her tongue. Anyone else with the same ambitions would probably have ignored it, but he wanted her to understand. To understand that she was more than a toy to him, that she was godsend. He didn’t want her hurt, he wanted something else. And that’s why he chose words.

“People die when I touch them.” He didn’t look into her eyes, not sure what would stare back at him. He didn’t want to see plead, or… he didn’t want to take pleasure in her pleading. “So, I’ve kept my hands to myself.” She wasn’t sure if he believed that his actions were justifiable. She wasn’t sure if it were himself or her he was trying to fool. “I haven’t touched anyone…” It sounded desperate. “Felt anyone…” It sounded broken. “For so long.” It was hard not to sympathize. It was hard to be angry at him. “I’ve stayed away.” She almost felt the urge to hug him. “Only touching people when its necessary.” If he’d given her just a few more days, then perhaps she would have. “I feel like I deserve this.” It came out hungry. It was raw and untamed and wrong.

The sympathy nearly vanished at that. It wasn’t her fault that he was like this. It wasn’t her burden, and yet here she was, like some sacrifice to a hungry god. Her hands pressured against his chest, in an obvious strive to make him release her. His hands tightened.

“Tomura, please…” Though he liked her voice, he didn’t care for her pleas. It wasn’t something he wanted to hear, because he was sure; if he tasted her begging just once, he was certain he’d find that he didn’t actually mind, that he… would rather enjoy it instead.

“It’s either this or something highly unpleasant.” His eyes met hers.

She was shocked at how fast his mood changed; like a child when you take away one of their toys or refuse to play with them. The first tear fell at that, his hand rose from its position to wipe it away, before he planted it back on her hip, rubbing the wetness onto her skin. Feeling like a pioneer of some sorts, having never done anything like it before.

“You know I’ve never bruised anyone.” His voice was different, wintry and empty. “Never made art on someone else’s skin.” It only got darker. “Not without them turning to ash…” His gaze fell back onto her hips, his fingers planting themselves more firmly into her. “I’ve never beaten anyone to a pulp.” His eyes seemed to partly stare at what purple galaxy he could make form under his nails. “They just up and disappear before I get the chance to.” On the other part he was staring into some unknown future; untapped desires, dark desires, violent desires. “I’ve never slapped anyone.” She braced herself, expected him to spank her. “Never felt anyone’s trembling skin.” She was positively trembling; she was quaking. “Never truly felt it.” He sounded desperate again. The icy tone was almost completely gone, turning yet again into something broken. “Not all of it.” It was only barely above a whisper. “Don’t you see?” His eyes were wide, full of something akin to ambition; hope? “You were made for me.” It wasn’t hope, it was resolution.

He kept burying his nails into her hips, so much it started to hurt. She got the feeling he was waiting for her to make a move, perhaps he was struggling to do so himself? And when she finally felt herself wincing at the pain, with his blood-red eyes digging into her soul, much like his fingers on her sides, she reached out and kissed him. Whimpering and leaning in closer, yet his fingers only barely relented. Her hands; limp at her sides, made to circle around his neck, softly entangling in his silvery locks. In the briefest moment she wanted to pull at it, drag him away from her, but she didn’t. She kept kissing, lightly sucking on his bottom lip. He moaned a strained groan, but his fingers only ceased their iron-grip when she pushed her chest flush against his. They then moved to her lower back, and then lower, finding their way down slowly, and squeezed at what they found down there, earning yet another whimper from her, although, when received by his mouth, much to his enjoyment, it sounded like a moan. He pulled her closer at that, grinding her against him. What she felt grind up against her, despite layers of fabric in between, scared her. His hands traveled again, this time upwards. Meeting her second shirt before there was no longer any shirt to meet, the cold air nipping at her exposed self.

As if shocked out of her state, she struggled again, but only for a moment. He was so fast. Before she even knew what was happening, she was firmly pinned beneath him, his hands locked around her wrists, tightening his hold until she gave him an apologetic look. He loosened them at that, but didn’t let go, not yet. Eyes flickering between hers and her lips, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin where her veins were stored on her wrists. He went in slowly, wanting her to half-initiate it herself, when she did without protest, without him threatening her, he lost it. Crashing into her, kissing, licking, biting as though he were starved. His hands moved with him, stroking down her arms tenderly, revering at the softness of what was found beneath his fingertips. She didn’t move her hands from above her head, didn’t know where to place them if she did.

He went exploring with his mouth. Down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. She expected his tongue to be dry like the rest of him, it wasn’t. Wet and sloppy; drooling was a better word for it. He left trails of himself down her chest. His hands, with steadily more and more added pressure, cupped one of her breasts, pinching and playing with the perky nib found there. His other hand got to work on disintegrating his pants, and then his shirt, and then nothing else was left to destroy. Except the bed, but he would break that in as well, in some other creative way. Her chest heaved more and more, frantically begging for more air; panicking. He decided to think of it as her wanting to get closer. He certainly was. Now that there was no more obstruction from his skin and hers, he struggled to not drop his entire weight onto her.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do, but ended up not thinking about it too much, settling for doing what he felt like doing. His hands groping, messaging, rubbing each breast. His tongue fluttering at how her perky nipple tickled him when he sucked and flicked over it. Her hands sprung forward to push him off when he bit too hard, though he caught them easily, pinning them down to her sides, deciding to ignore the act and continue with his exploration.

She started crying now, trying to keep quiet as much as she could, yet he heard the sniffles and tiny hiccups. He let go of her wrists again, watching as she gripped the sheets tightly, trying to hold back. Staring at the ceiling, studying the smooth, white surface. Thinking how her life no longer belonged to her.

It was strange, he was more bothered by the fact that he didn’t care whether she cried or not. Of course, he preferred it if she enjoyed herself too, but as long as he made the itchy feeling beneath his skin go away, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. As much as he wanted to be patient for her, he couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing himself and placing the tip of his cock at her entrance.

“Tomura-” She protested, knowing how this couldn’t possibly be pretty. She wasn’t remotely wet, and he didn’t really seem about to assist with any moisture himself. But he couldn’t care more for her begging. Catching her wrists with one hand as he continued with what he was doing.

“I already told you-” He hissed, but she cut him off before he could threaten her a second time.

“Let me help.” Her voice was a soft kind of desperate. He’d been too frenzied to realize that she wasn’t really struggling or fighting him. Her large eyes found his in a feeble attempt to break through whatever craze he was in. Letting go of her wrists gave her the answer to her request. He sat up and she followed, crawling out from beneath him. About to grab her and place her back, he halted when he saw her coming back completely on her own volition. Her hands pressed softly against his chest, asking him to lower himself onto the pillows behind him. “Lie down.” And, although they were worded like demands, they didn’t sound that way whatsoever coming from her. He did what she said nonetheless, eyeing her every move, on high alert, ready to grab her if she were to run and lock herself in the bathroom. He was truly expecting anything else than her soft, warm and wet lips sliding down his cock in an almost loving fashion. Brows furrowed abruptly, mouth apart as he let out a long, shaky, gasping moan. Fingers stretching and curling into the sheets. Only barely keeping his wits with him to raise his pinky above the others, in order not to destroy whatever heaven he was in.

She’d placed herself between his thighs. On her knees with her ass raised up into the air, her head bowed and bobbing up and down on his shaft. Her hands supporting her on his stomach. Touching him. Like worship, he thought, looking down at her working hard to please him. With that thought simmering though his mind, he found the courage to ruffle his fingers through her hair. Refraining from adding any pressure, not assisting her in any way. He simply messaged and stroked and felt her eager movements on him. Heavenly sounds of sloshing and gurgling and slobbering and struggling filled the room as she continued going down, hollowing out her cheeks, running her tongue up and down, from side to side around him almost hungrily.

Toes curling into the sheets beneath him. Head thrown back onto the comfort of the pillows. He focused on the warm walls tightening around him, the wetness that slid up and down his cock, the tip of him pushing against her throat, begging to go deeper. He hadn’t meant it… how his hips jerked in the slightest attempt to push himself further down her throat. It was far from a real thrust, but it was no less noticeable. She took the hint, choking him all the way down to the hilt, feeling him bend down her throat. Gagging on him, her knees shifted, tempted to lie down on her stomach, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she held back and kept sucking, with him all the way down her throat, until she finally let herself breathe.

Mesmerized by her sudden performance, his eyes glued onto her, delighted to see a string of drool connecting her lips to his cock when she tore away. It didn’t take long before she dove back in. Her one hand shifting from its place on his chest to fondle his balls, playing with them in her palm. Her tongue gliding up and down, licking the sides of him, giving each of his balls a suck and a kiss each time she went all the way down.

He was moaning and groaning fervently, his eyes nearly traveling all the way back into his skull. His toes cramping in their curled state. Being so lost in the moment. Before he even realized she had stopped, she’d placed her knees on the outside of either side of him. Her hand continuing to stroke him, with her other hand playing and messaging her own clit, preparing herself. She hovered above him. He started feeling cold upon the lack of contact, but the chill was soon replaced as he pushed inside her folds.

They moaned simultaneously this time. His was closer to a growl, whereas hers was more of a whimper. She sat there for a second, trying to get used to his length and size inside her, trying to make it all feel more comfortable, before she started riding. Slow, deep, heavy riding, letting the cock inside her hit every spot that had her nearly mewling. Bucking her hips forward, rolling onto him, with her hands once again placed on his chest. She couldn’t look at him, feeling so dirty and guilty for the building knot inside her stomach, the one that was now constantly teased by his large member inside her. She closed her eyes instead, not thinking of the circumstances, focusing on how insanely good it felt to be stretched out and filled to the very brink, despite not really wanting to think about it at all.

He, however, was staring at her as though it was the first time he ever truly saw anyone. He was so caught up in the moment, he’d forgotten about the deadly touch lingering in his fingers all together. So very spellbound by how her small, soft, delicate hands touched him, how her hair fell down her shoulders and tickled the skin on her breasts, how her brows had equally furrowed together as his own, how her lashes fluttered and lips parted even more with each beautiful moan that escaped them. He barely even registered how her hands picked his hands up and placed them on her hips for him so that he could rock her at his own tempo.

His grip didn’t tighten as she had suspected them to, they didn’t grope or poke as they did earlier. They hung loosely on top of her thighs, his thumbs stroking over her hips in encouragement of everything she was doing.

Placing her hands back on his stomach, she stroked up his chest and throat to lock her fingers in his silver hair. Her chest brushing up against his as she started kissing and sucking at his neck. Bracing herself by propping her feet up under her legs. Rocking her hips faster, no longer just rolling, but jumping up and down on her knees, all still rather graciously, done with somewhat expertise. He groaned at the sudden increase in tempo, his hands traveling on their own over her hips to grip at the plump flesh of her behind.

He knew he was much less experienced than her, but at least he knew what he wanted as well. Slowly getting over the surprise that had currently knocked him into shock and awe, he decided to gain more control. Especially now that he felt himself slip away and near his end. He pushed his thighs up, making her shift further up on him. She only moaned in response to him strapping his hands around her torso and lifting them both up into a sitting position, with her nuzzling perfectly in his lap. He ran his hands down her back and cupped her thighs, raising her up to tangle her legs around him. Now, sitting on his knees, he made to thrust into her and slap her back on his cock without her having any control over the new current of the motion.

He moaned savagely, feeling complete bliss befall him like a wave. She clung to him, actually clung to him for dear life, and it felt so fucking heavenly to feel her continue to nibble and suck and lick and kiss at the scars he’d created on his neck. With her arms wrapped around his back as though she couldn’t bear to let go. It was too much. She was too much. He couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t last any longer. He dropped her down onto the bed again, his cock slipping out and into his grip as he pumped the last few pumps it took before he came. Ropes of milky liquid sprouted from his cock and fell over her stomach, before he collapsed back onto her. His cheek pressed against her chest. Hot and heavy breaths brushed across her stomach. Drool slipping down from his mouth and onto her breast.

She didn’t dare move, despite feeling the wanton urge to touch herself until she as well peaked her orgasm. She remained still, or at least tried to, but it was hard when the fire within her stomach demanded attention. She tried to keep the quaking under wraps, but it was impossible. He hummed against her chest upon the feeling, it almost turned into a chuckle. He had clearly gained his confidence, acting all smug and cocky when he motioned his hand to rub at her clit. She jolted upon the touch, moaning and arching her back up against him. He kissed a quick trail down her stomach, everything sprawled out for him to see and touch as he so pleased. She was nearly begging when his eyes met hers. “Let me help you.” It was mockingly sweet, but she found she quite liked the sound of it. His thumb rubbing circles upon the sensitive spot, as he lowered his mouth to lick between the folds. She moaned brazenly, her fingers again tousling into his hair. He propped her one leg up over his shoulder, gaining more access.

She felt the pulsating, roaring, drooling sensation build and build until it nearly hurt, her hips lolling into him between her legs. His tongue running and delving into her, his teeth lightly and teasingly nipping at the tender flesh. Sucking until she let out that last earthshattering moan, her body convulsing in spasms and violent quakes. He gave a couple more licks to her clit and felt her panic beneath him, much to his enjoyment. He didn’t torture her oversensitivity for too long, before he climbed back up and nuzzled into her neck. Happy when he felt her fingers stroking his head again; affectionately.

No more words were exchanged. The presence of night laid thickly inside the room. The both of them unable to keep their lids open, not really fighting of the sleep that soon overwhelmed them either. Skin to skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat. They fell asleep soundly. And when Tomura woke up the next day, their limbs tangled together in one comfortable knot, he felt as though it might have been the very first time he actually felt rested.

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flower-demise · 3 years ago

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⋆⁺ 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯| 𝖐𝖙𝖍 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

They say that when you are looking at the stars, you’re actually looking into the past. Many of the stars we see at night have already faded away.

And yet I found you

A bts au inspired by hotarubi no Mori e, howl's moving castle and stories without a linear concept of time

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚⁺˚

✦𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 : 𝔗𝔞𝔢𝔥𝔶𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢��𝔡𝔢𝔯, 𝔜𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

✦𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊 : 𝔉𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔲 ,𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱, 𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔱/𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢

✦𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢, 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔲𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔡/𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰.

✦𝕬/𝖓: 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔞 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔶/𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 | 𝖈𝖍.1 | 𝖈𝖍.2 | 𝖈𝖍.3 | 𝖈𝖍.4 | 𝖈𝖍.5 | 𝖈𝖍.6| 𝖆𝖔3

Chapter 1: In the heart of the labyrinth, he waits..

‘I had the same dream last night’ you exclaimed with a pout on your face as your grandma prepared the tea to start of the day.

It was almost autumn now and the chill in the air sparked an excitement deep within you, soon you’d be able to see all the orange leaves decorating the trees. But even that didn’t lift your moods today. It didn’t help the fact that she took her time making it and that her only response was to smile kindly to you and simply say:

‘Again?’ ‘Oh dear please remind me’

‘Grandma!’ you exclaimed betrayed and she laughed at your overreaction. ‘You never listen to me when I tell you’ you fake cried but she simply hummed a quiet lullaby. She was too used to your morning temper, there was a reason she made the tea after all.

‘Here’ she said finally and filled the cup in front of you with a steaming light red liquid as she did with her own. Then she took the seat opposite to you and after taking a long inhale of the fragrance of the tea she said:

‘There now, I’m all ears’

‘Finally’ you mumbled and you mirrored her, taking a sip. Your eyes lit up immediately and she laughed at your reaction.

‘When did you gather the flowers?’ you asked, a new excitement settling in you.

‘Oh, I went early in the morning, the summer is ending and I thought I’d pick my favorite grandchild’s flowers to make tea before she leaves’

‘I’m your only grandchild’ you mumbled again but felt grateful. This scent and this warmth between your hands was what autumn felt like to you. Another sip and the realization that you didn’t want to leave settled in.

You were twelve now and you would have to go to a new school in a couple days, the thought only made you want to stay here with her more. Here, in the quietness of her cottage next to the sea and the meadows. Here, with the lullabies and the warm milk and the clear night skies. The world outside of this appeared as a scary place.

‘Tell me about your dream dear’ she reminded you, maybe even to distract you.

‘Oh right’ another sip ‘I saw that boy again, the one with the mint hair’

‘Oh, your boyfriend’

The look you shot her made her laugh out loud once again.

‘Anyway’ you continued’ it was a sunny day and he was laying on the field. But he was frozen, I called his name a couple of times but he didn’t turn around’

Your grandma’s gaze shifted at that but you didn’t notice.

‘I was very worried only then I noticed how flowers were growing around him, almost covering him like a blanket. It felt..weird’

‘Weird how?’

You looked at her, sipping her tea untroubled.

‘Ah well..the worry left when I saw the flowers and I became sad but also hopeful. I don’t know how to explain it.’

‘It's not an easy thing to do, trying to explain feelings’

‘But this isn't about that, it's about the boy.’ you emphasized and she watched amused ‘I knew the boy in my dream, I knew I knew him but now I can't remember how’.

She took another sip.

‘You said you called his name’

That surprised you, was she paying attention to you after all?

‘Did I? Ugh I can't even remember that. Why can't I remember?’

‘It's okay dear one.’ she said and you stopped your frantic motions to listen to her.

She smiled at you.

‘It was just a dream’

‘Yeah, I know’ you admitted halfheartedly.

‘But it was a beautiful dream’.

‘It was?’

‘Of course,’ she said.

‘Well, what does it mean?’

She looked at you for a few seconds and then after making up her mind and taking another sip, her eyes fell on the big clock on the wall behind you.

‘Look at that, it's almost noon. I’ll tell you another time, okay? When you are older.’

‘Grandma’ you complained but the woman offered a pat in your head and started gathering your cups.

(12 years later...)

‘I saw the weirdest dream last night’ you announced as you were preparing for the bookshop’s opening. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over you, like you had had a conversation like this before.

There were some new arrivals you needed to stack in the shelves and clear the way of the little open space left. Your antique bookshop was exactly that, little. Taking the corner of a hidden street, it was a traveler's lucky discovery as some blogs have called it. And you would agree, you wouldn’t call this place mainstream at all, you knew well enough that it didn’t have the latest number one bestsellers although some second hand harry potter ones were laying on the fantasy section. It was basically a mixture of hidden gems of all genres, all of them second hand and some old tarot decks and postcards. That was one of the reasons you liked it this much, it felt like your own little magic shop. You cringed at the childish thought.

And continued on your work.

‘I was walking in a dark path.’ you explained as you opened the curtains and the morning sun slipped from the window throughout the wooden floor to the vintage paintings covering the walls.

‘I knew someone was watching me, following me. I knew they were there but I couldn’t turn around, I just kept walking and walking’ you looked at the titles and hard covers of the new arrivals. Your hand instinctively travelled through them.

'It felt as if I turned around to face whoever it was, I would be hypnotized, unable to leave’. Your gaze flickered on the title of the largest one with a dark red velvet cover and you knew it would be an instant tourist favorite. The title read: ‘The Story of Orpheus’ and you felt a strange tingle inside you. If you recalled correctly the tale spoke of his descend to the underworld to save his lover, you couldn’t pinpoint though how it ended.

You ignored the feeling and uncovered more books.

‘And then I heard my name’ the reminder alone made you shiver. 'But it was a beautiful voice that spoke it, I remember it being beautiful, because that’s why I turned around’.

‘Very climatic I know, and do you know what happened then?’ you turned around to face your listener’s reaction, only to see your cat lick its paw completely ignoring your rumblings.

‘Please don’t be so invested’ you joked and the cat stopped when it realized you were staring at her.

‘I woke up’ you signed and the ginger furball walked in front you like it was her runaway, her fluffy tail falling under your chin and tickling you. A small smile appeared on your face.

‘What if they were my soulmate or something, calling out for me?’ you swear the look she just gave you along with her little growl was one of the ‘don't be such a pathetic bitch’ kind. You shallowed your pride.

‘Yeah, you are right’ you admitted defeated ‘Soulmates aren't real..what a childish notion’.

A familiar sound pulled you out of your little conversation. You instinctively turned towards the door to greet the new costumer that the bell had announced. Only to find the door closed and the ringing still echoing in your ears.

‘Am I hearing things?’ you questioned out loud and turned to face the cat, only to see her strangely alarmed, her tail straight up and her attention fixed towards the entrance.

‘The old thing must be broken’ you decided. ‘I don’t even know when grandma last replaced it’ you tried to calm your little friend and you went on to check it for yourself when she growled again, halting you.

‘What’s wrong?’ you questioned, slowly retracting and starting to get creeped out.

That’s when the music faintly reached your ears, a familiar melody like an echo of a distant place, a forgotten dream. A sad piano playing from deep in the underworld, you were consumed by its sweet sound. Most of all because you had heard it before. Like a plea to someone, an invitation, one you’ve been waiting for all your life, the sunlight blurred in your side vision and your eyelids became heavier and heavier, surrendering to the delicate notes. Now you could almost follow it, the music would lead you to him.

Then a loud noise of something falling covered everything, the music vanished into whatever realm it came from and you stared in horror at all the books your cat had scattered all over the floor. You stood there for a couple of seconds trying to center yourself, knowing that the little devil had just gotten you out of whatever state you had slipped into.

The rest of the day passed uneventful, only a couple of teenagers wearing their school uniforms came by to check the shelves and an old man who was particularly interested in an old edition of a book. Unfortunately, you had to inform him you didn’t possess the said edition and he only mumbled a ‘people these days chose eBooks over hard covers from the beginning of the 20th century ' and left without saying a simple thank you.

Uneventful entirely.

Your mood was getting lower and lower, you knew it was a weekday so not many costumers would come but still, you were well aware that if you wanted to keep the place running you had to start marketing it somehow. Just because it was your grandma’s shop and it held sentimental value, it didn’t mean it could sustain you. It did what it was supposed to though, reminded you of her.

It didn’t lift your mood either as you were closing now, making sure you locked twice, that you were overly on edge the whole day, jumping from the slightest sound and shadow on the walls. You were a scared cat no surprise there, but even you knew that something odd had happened that morning. Something you were eager to wash away with a hot bath.

You bid you little neighbor farewell for the night, making sure her bowl was full before you took your way home. But the night was beautiful and the air not overly chilly so you took your time exploring the rest of the antique shops that covered your street. You were in a very particular mood, under the full moon, walking the pattern lid streets and spotting all sort of odd objects in the shop windows, you felt like you had entered a fairytale.

You stopped in front of the old bakery that you used to get those chocolate biscuits you loved when you were a kid and even though it had closed long now, you swore you could smell the fresh baked goods under this moon. You passed a few people covered with their scarves and bennies signaling that winter was almost here taking autumn’s place, and made-up stories about where they were going and who they were.

Lost in your imagination you didn’t realize you had found yourself on a street you’d never been before. You saw the slate engraved with the words ‘Acheron'. You hadn't even heard of this street. But it was so beautifully lit under the dim lights you were eager to find where it led. You were so excited in fact that you didn’t notice when the music started, it had come naturally like the first snow, fully fitting the environment around you. And so, when you turned on the corner and started walking down a circular staircase you didn’t question it at all.

Like an enchanted mouse you obeyed the hand who hovered melancholically over the keys of an old piano. He played them so skillfully, like he had done a hundred times, not missing a single note and you couldn’t help but be moved by him, quite literally.

The ground from below your feet changed from the stony road to a heavy carpet and when you looked up again you found a long corridor staring back at you. It extended as far as your eyes could sea and when you looked to the ground again you saw green smoke had covered your feet.

shit

The music became deeper and richer as you kept walking, but the corridor kept extending like it had no end. No end and no beginning. The only thing that changed, was that the smoke had risen higher.

where were you?

You sensed something behind you shift and you turned towards it. The same endless corridor extending in all its silent glory, only now you knew someone was there. Hidden in the dark.

‘Who are you?’ you whispered, finally breaking the silence, only to realize the music had long stopped. The only sound now was your own heavy breathing and the beating of your heart, which got quicker and quicker by the second. Everything was beginning settling in and the all the question were bubbling from the back of your mind. Like..

how the hell did you get here? Wherever here even were...

It’s a dream. You decided. This couldn’t be real. You had gotten home long now and you were dreaming, carefully stuck under a million blankets.

then why were you so aware of a dream?

A sound like wings unfolding had you turn around again. You were trapped like a mouse but between what you didn’t know. Only that it was everywhere, behind you and in front of you, in the walls around you, in every little corner where shadows could reach.

if this was a dream, then why didn’t you wake up?

A scent of something sweet like night flowers reached your nose and you inhaled it like opium.

if this were a dream, could you shape it to your will?

You stopped. Took a deep breath and turn to face the wall. This is a dream you kept repeating as you concentrated on the hard solid material, you touched it gently and imagined a path, a way out. The material obeyed to your will and shifted to thin air, another corridor appearing in front you.

A laugh echoed. A laugh that made every little hair on your neck stand up.

‘Look at you, clever little mouse’ the voice was deep and ancient and run down your spine. Your feet shaked at the power it held, like it could move the very earth, or like it came from it.

You kept walking, you had to. You ignored the creature which you sensed to be closer than before, as if to limit its power, its spell on you.

And yet, dread washed over you as soon as you stared at the same path, it was as if you never had strayed from. He was playing with your mind. He must have. No matter where you went, which turn you took, which doorway you opened you ended up in the beginning, with the presence of someone following you closely, like a guardian.

shit, shit, shit

You stopped in your tracks, your breath frantic. No matter where you run, he had the upper hand. It was like he was one with this place. Your pride gave you a newfound strength though, as you didn’t want the creature to enjoy your desperation, your pointless tries. You were scared to the bone, petrified in fact but refused to die hunted. You tried calm yourself, wherever you were..

you found your way in, you’d find your way out

‘Defeated?’ he purred close to your neck ‘already?’ you could feel a sharp smile at the words that cut your skin like knives.

‘You mortals are so predictable’. Disappointment and arrogance coated his voice now. And now more than ever you wished to defy his predatory aura.

‘You aren’t real’ you spoke with a newfound strength, as to believe it yourself.

The laugh echoed in the corridor darker than before and you got a glimpse at the smoke that had rose almost to your waist.

fuck

‘Isn't the anxiety running hot in your blood real little mouse? Or the way my voice brings forth a primordial fear in your belly?’ you felt his breath in the back of your neck. The scent from before filling your senses. His scent.

‘I’m real. You are not’ you said again, decisive and turned around to see only darkness. A small victory.

‘Such scary words from someone who is afraid to face me’ you teased, pushing your luck, but you didn’t care. You knew you had won over something, over the fear of the unknown, over sharp claws and hearts made of stone. You had stopped running.

The same sound of wings.

‘Oh’ he said with a chuckle. 'I will enjoy this. I'm here little girl’ his voice was almost lyrical ‘I’m here in the dark, can you see me?’

You stared at the abyss ahead of you and your human eyes could only register something twist in the dark. Your stomach followed shortly.

Through the darkness, surrounded by smoke you saw a beautiful man,

no..

A creature with the face of a man with eyes that could read your very soul. Dark wavy hair fell messily above his shoulders, he was so breathtaking that the sight of the black wings hovering behind him didn’t startle you as much.

‘Now you see me’ he said lower. He rested his head on his palm and gazed at you.

‘Now I see you’ you spoke quieter but you knew he heard you.

‘Yet you aren’t the one who guided me here, the one who played the beautiful music’ your gut feeling could tell you this. The man who observed you had the face of an angel, of a forgotten god, but he hid emptiness behind it, like the abyss itself but the music ..the music didn’t remind you of the dark, it reminded you of sunny days and childhood loves.

‘Clever indeed’. He spoke as you figured it out. ‘I wonder that myself. Which of my dear guests called someone like you to this cold forgotten place?’ he had moved closer to you, eyes not ever leaving yours. And you felt exposed, the hidden darkest part inside you felt exposed to his lingering gaze. You’d never forget his eyes, like two dark oceans, they held the colors of dreams in their depths.

Here, in a place like this, you met his gaze back and your eyes roamed from his dark attire covered with jewels to the rings of gems adorning his fingers and the silver necklace hanging from his neck. They stayed there and the man felt you had seen past his exterior as he had seen past yours. An equal match, one he never expected.

It wasn’t long before your eyes were closing though and you felt a hand delicately brushing your hair.

the smoke!

You had forgotten about the smoke and it was too late to care now.

It was strange but your heart had slowed down and before you surrendered to sleep you didn’t feel fear but an odd wonder had begun to settle inside you, birthed out of all you had seen and out of the unworldly man with the black wings who caught you sweetly in his arms when you fell.

{To be continued...}

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This chapter’s moodboard.

Ps: I’d love to read your thoughts about the story

#bts x reader #bts #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts fairytale au #bts fantasy au #bts magical au #bts angst #yoongi #taehyung

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter XXXIII: Volcano Girl

I never wanted for much. Not really. Peace, love, safety, security, control, calm.

Things always got lost in translation. Such simple desires turned into contradictions. Within the muddiness that became my life, I found something resembling my original wants.

Lush, open fields (well, in my mind, I could still see a lushness to it all, but much of the fields were made up of dry grass) where my beloved and I lived in a home she built. She was resourceful, talented, kind, and often able to lift my spirits up, even when I thought that they couldn’t be lifted.

Despite such wonderful things, I couldn’t help but feel ill at ease. Like any moment, my sanctuary would be crumbled and taken from me. There shouldn’t have been any reason to feel that way: my pursuers have been defeated, my life no longer threatened, the angel no longer a corrupting force within me, and my wife who had stayed by my side throughout it all. Yet every now and then I felt the slightest hint in the back of my mind that my inner demon never went away. Sure, in a literal sense, it was gone, and I was myself and myself only.

But in another sense, I was full of fear. Fear of myself, and even if I had no evidence to suggest as such, it tugged at me in many directions. All I could do was try to take a deep breath and remain calm.

Soon winter would approach. We needed to think of a way to deal with it.

“What are we going to do about the coming cold?” I asked her, as she sat nestled in my lap.

“Simple!” She raised her index finger and I could tell she just came up with whatever idea she had on the spot. “We build a hearth. Or I do. I’ve never built a hearth before, it could be fun!”

Of course. As if I should expect any different from her.

“Do we even have the right material to build a hearth?”

“If we don’t, I’ll get some! If we don’t have the right house for one, then I’ll just rebuild and start over!”

I balked.

“Do we really have the time to build a new house?”

Not to mention, where would we sleep?

“You dare underestimate my power?” She fired right back.

“No,” I shook my head and smiled, “I know better than to do that by now.”

We gave each other a couple of light pecks, little brushes against our lips, then nuzzled against each other’s faces.

“Oh! Bathroom’s calling!” She jumped off and raced toward the bathroom.

Now that she had that idea of building a hearth in her head, there was no way of stopping her. Not that I could complain; as long as we had something to handle the winter chill, I was all good. Where we chose to live, there seemed to be only two seasons: summer and winter, with summer being the dominant one. Yes, there was spring, but it was a warm spring. The kind of spring which carried an orange glow and lit a spark across the land.

Life was grand. It was a daunting task having to fend off such worrisome feelings, but I knew that wonderful things were all around me.

That was right: I had nothing to worry about. Nothing at al –

Knock, knock.

Two knocks upon the door.

We never had company (save for Velvet and Coriander, but they had a knack of showing up anywhere and at any time).

Juniper did say that her cousin was apparently planning on showing up. Does that mean…?

Another few raps upon the door, along with raps upon my tiresome heart.

I sucked in the nervousness, picked myself up, and headed toward the door. My shaking hand reached for the doorknob and turned it, then I watched the slow creep of it opening and stared out into the open air.

At first, I saw nothing save for the lush scenery I was accustomed to. Its gentle breeze rolling the tall grass, the greenhouse and coop off to the side. But little else. As childish as it was to admit, I had a particular morbid thought:

What if it’s a ghost?

Then I looked down.

Before me was a miniature version of Juniper. I couldn’t believe what I saw, so I removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes, but the vision did not go away. Then it clicked and I felt silly.

“You’re...Demetria, right?” I asked, plain as day. She looked a little angry.

“No shit, Sherlock,” she barked back. Despite the blonde twin tails, she reminded me more of Coriander than Juniper.

“Um, well...how are you doing?” I squeezed out the words. Although my voice came out soft, inside I was screaming. Why did you want to come here? Why now? Why me? Why us?

It was just like how I used to act. Really, if I desired to be kind, it was more than just lying about how I felt.

“Horrible. I can’t figure out what to do with my life. No, it’s not that. It’s that I’m trying to find something to prevent what I’m becoming,” she recited.

“What you’re becoming?” I tilted my head.

She lifted up her hoodie from the bottom and I first thought that she was about to strip in front of me, something which would have been ridiculous, but not all that out there considering the kinds of people I’ve met. Instead, I was greeted with lines, or rather indentations, across her lower torso.

“Oh. You’ve got abs. Congrats?” I was at a loss. Why was that such a bad thing and why did that warrant coming here?

“No. Not congrats. It’s hideous. No one should bear witness to such a thing.”

If that’s the case, then why show me?

“I mean, as long as you’re happy, I don’t see what the problem is,” I remained confused as hell. ‘Happy’. That word stung. It shouldn’t have, but it did. It was the truth, that as long as she was fine with it, there shouldn’t have been an issue. But that wouldn’t solve the problem. There had to be some reason she was dissatisfied, right?

“Have you been eating enough? Drinking enough water?” I grasped for some kind of answer that made sense.

“Probably not. Anyway, you gonna let me in or what?”

“Why?” I blurted. Then to cover, I smiled.

“Oh. I get it,” she stamped her foot. “You don’t want me here. Makes sense. I’m intruding on your space, is that it?”

Hit the nail right on the head. Well, now that it’s out in the open no use being coy about it.

“Yes, that’s how I feel,” I stood up straight, and my voice darkened as well. “However, Juniper did inform me that you would show up, and I don’t mean any ill will.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” she dismissed, “at least you’re being honest now.”

Right. I should be honest more often.

“Who’s at the door?” Juniper’s voice echoed behind me. Rather than respond, I kept my gaze down toward Demetria.

“Please, come in,” I ushered her. Demetria dragged her feet inside and Juniper looked astonished upon seeing who our guest was.

“It’s really you! Oh wow!” Juniper exclaimed.

Demetria plopped down on one of the chairs across from the one Juniper and I usually sat on.

“Yup. It me,” she grunted.

I closed the door, then sat down where I had been seated. Juniper followed suit and took her seat in my lap.

“So, what’s up?” Juniper opened up the conversation with Demetria, even with her arms wrapped around my neck.

Demetria looked down, legs spread wide, and said nothing. I thought the silent treatment would hold, but after a while, she spoke up.

“My life should have been normal. Boring. So why did I become so obsessed? Why did it have to be her?” She shook her head. It didn’t even sound like her words were in response to Juniper’s question.

“Are you talking about Remora?” I figured the answer must have already been a resounding ‘yes’, but even still.

“You already know. It doesn’t even bear mentioning, yet because of that, all of these events set into motion and now even though I’ve come to my senses, I can’t return to my old self. It frightens me.”

“I can relate,” I nodded in agreement. “Sometimes things happen like, ‘if only I hadn’t have done this…’ but even if you’re not where you wanted to be, you can still find a path for yourself. I believe that.”

She looked up and studied my face. It looks like you’re being honest, was the vibe I got from her. It creeped me out.

“Maybe so,” she replied. “That’s why I came here. Home didn’t work for me. I got into a fight, and the thing was, I enjoyed it. That’s not how I want to be. I don’t want to seek out fights to satisfy some sick urge. I want to do something creative, and I figured staying with you and Juniper would help with that.”

“It’s true. I’ve done a couple of creative things here and there,” Juniper chimed in. “This house being one of them!”

Yep. Of course she was proud of that.

“I know I’m already inside and I came all the way out here in what was a few day trip, but is it okay if I stay with you guys for a little while?”

My heart sank, but I was already prepared to accept her, even if it might have been hard. In my heart, I wanted to do the right thing.

“Yes, of course. We’ve got a spare room,” I gestured to the room that resided beside the room Juniper and I slept in.

“Thank you. I know this isn’t ideal for you, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll stay in the room for the most part.”

“Actually,” Juniper spoke up. “I think it’d be nice to have some work with our crops. Of course, while it’s winter, there won’t be much of that, but I’m sure there’s still some things you can do around here.”

Demetria opened her mouth, ready to balk or protest, but then rested her lips flat and gave a short nod.

“Sure. Anything.”

While I was sure it was an uncomfortable subject for her, I couldn’t help myself. Something gnawed at me and I needed to know what it was.

“By the way, Demetria, what happened between you and Remora?” I pried.

To my surprise, she answered, and even though her voice continued to hold a dry, barren tone, she didn’t sound bothered in the slightest.

“We had a long talk. She told me everything. Who she was, what she had been through, her identity. At the end, when she reached her conclusion, I didn’t accept what she said about herself. In fact, I argued against it. But who’s to say she was wrong but me? Maybe she didn’t care about anyone, and even if she did, I couldn’t force her to care. Once I realized that, I felt the best course of action was for me to leave. Me being there was a futile effort, worse, I was more of a hindrance.”

“That tracks,” I replied. “Rhea probably felt the same way about herself. I feel like I failed with both of them. One, I could have prevented their death, the other, I treated as if they were a way for me to redeem myself for failing the other one.”

“You’re being hard on yourself again,” Juniper reminded me. “It’s hard to know what to do sometimes, not to mention whether it’s right or even possible to help someone all of the time. You were going through a difficult time when you met Rhea. It was hard enough just to help yourself.”

“She’s right, you know,” Demetria added. “What’s done is done, anyway. Might as well move on from it.”

I knew Juniper was right, but hearing that from Juniper’s cousin just seemed harsh. Even by my standards. Somehow, I needed to tell her as much. I was my own person, so if anyone could say as such, I could.

Be nice, but be honest...how do I do that?

“Trust me, moving on is something I’d love to do. But it’s just as you heard from Juniper: I was going through a difficult time. My health, both physically and mentally weren’t well and the lives of both Juniper and I were threatened. Those events still run through my head, and I’m trying to be better both toward myself and others, but it’s not so simple as a snap of my fingers.”

As much as I wish it was that way. I no longer had that kind of power.

“Yeah. I guess so,” she turned her head. Not so much a shrug, but there was still the disinterested tone to her voice. “It’s not that I dislike Remora or anything. I wish her well, and maybe she does need a friend, but I just don’t think it can be me.”

Despite her tone, I agreed with the sentiment.

“I think we all wish her well,” I replied. “I do worry about her. Not that I really need to, but when we had our fight over text, it seemed like she was going through a rough time.”

“Can we stop talking about her? She’s not important. I get she affected you a great deal and all that, but that’s not why I came here. I’d rather not think about her anymore.”

That struck me. No, not personally. Not that time. But it just occurred to me that she was the one who wanted to move on, and from her limited perspective, probably thought that I should do the same. If it was like that…

“Yes. Certainly. My apologies.”

Juniper got up off of my lap and gestured toward the room Demetria would be staying in.

“Wanna drop off your stuff in the room?” She offered. Demetria’s mouth appeared to drop to the floor.

“Did you have a whole room prepared for me or something?!” She cried out. It was the most expressive I’ve seen her since she arrived. Granted, she hadn’t been there long, and I hadn’t formed much of an impression of her, but still, it counted for something.

Juniper chuckled.

“Not quite. We’ve had guests before. It’s a long story,” she took a quick glance over to me and winked.

Well, we were prepared either way, considering your mom called my wife.

Reluctant, I dragged my feet toward the room as well, watched as she set down her backpack next to the little bed. Without hesitation, she jumped onto the bed, face first, buried into the pillow. Both Juniper and I watched as it soon became apparent that our guest had fallen right to sleep. I couldn’t help but sleep.

She probably needed the rest.

As the days passed, my desire for her to leave grew. Bright and early into the morning, I woke up and brewed myself a warm cup of sagebrush tea. After a few minutes of letting the flavor steep, I took the cup and sat down on the living room floor, then took a sip. Nothing out of the ordinary.

However, that soon changed when out of the corner of my eye, a zombie-like figure shambled past me and into the kitchen. I didn’t pay the figure much mind, I was too wrapped up in the aroma.

“Oh, uh, it’s, uh,” came the low groggy groans in just the same manner a zombie would make. I turned to my left and I jolted upright, which made some of my tea splash out of its cup and seared onto my bare collarbone.

There Demetria stood, mouth agape. Or, well, it must have been, but she turned her head and covered her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“Sorry, I just got up to get some food,” she mumbled, no more awake than before, yet more coherent. In one of her hands was an orange.

“Hi,” I waved with my free hand. That hot tea water still stung, but it would pass with time.

She continued to look away, but waved back. I was confused until Juniper walked out, arms stretched out and a mighty yawn, no hands covering her mouth.

“Oh. I see. It’s a tits out kind of morning,” Demetria commented once again in a mumbled. That time, I figured it out.

“Mm. Yep. Say hun, what’s the brew today?” Juniper didn’t pay Demetria’s comment much mind. Really, it wasn’t a big deal. We wore as much or as little clothes as we wanted at any given time. We were free people and it was our own home. But neither of us took into account how it may come across to a guest. When it was Velvet and Coriander, neither of them paid it any mind, but everyone was different.

“...Sagebrush…” I murmured.

“Huh? I couldn’t hear you?” Juniper leaned over and cupped her ear, hoping I would repeat my answer. Demetria, for her part, shuffled past Juniper and I.

“Don’t mind me, you guys. I’ll just be in my room,” she reassured without sounding very reassuring.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable, you can just say so,” I called after her.

“No, no, it’s fine…”

You’re damn right it’s fine. It’s our house. We do what we wa –

Juniper turned her head toward Demetria.

“Oh, that’s what it is, huh?” Juniper stood up, hands on her hips. “I’ve got it: we’ll compromise!”

Compromise? Compromise how?

“I’ve got some plain whites, we can get a bucket and some dyes and make tie-dye shirts!”

I didn’t see what the point of that was. We already had shirts. I could just put one on and the problem would be solved just like that.

“Come on, you too!” Juniper urged me up. “Group project! It’ll be fun! Aren’t you into the whole hippie thing?”

Neither Demetria nor I looked thrilled about the idea. However, I smiled.

“Yeah, this could be nice to get out and have fun with dyes,” I tried to see the positive in it, even if I wasn’t keen on giving up on my way of life.

We had fun, though. Early in the morning, loose shirts, gentle breeze. All three of us dipped shirts into a swirl of dyes, and splashed the mucky water at each other. By the time we were done, the three of us were a mess of paint.

In spite of that, the feeling of wrongness carried over.

Let it be known that Juniper’s impulsivity was not the issue. In fact, that was an aspect of hers which I loved, even if most of the time, I complained about it.

“I was wondering, what kind of creative things do you do?” Demetria asked Juniper while we dunked shirts.

“Just about anything!” She answered.

“So, what, would you make swords?” Demetria joked, though I could already see the spark light up in Juniper’s eyes.

“That’s brilliant! I can and should make a sword!”

“Are you serious?! I was joking!” Demetria was shocked. I placed my hand on her shoulder.

“It’s too late; once she’s got an idea in her head, you can’t talk her out of it.”

My main concern was whether Juniper would still manage to get that hearth installed in our house, and if it would work out.

But really, that wasn’t a concern, either. Even if the things Juniper made were never perfect, they were neither broken nor defective, either. In spite of the imperfections which came with making something for the first time, everything she made she put a great deal of care into and would be meticulous in at least trying to get whatever she made to a functional state. Needless to say, she was wonderful.

All was well enough. I was sure we’d get through winter no problem. Still, I couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of dread, and a nagging at me which repeated the words, “I want you gone.”

At least that’s all they were: thoughts. Insecurities.

What a relief it was that such things couldn’t manifest. Not anymore.

When I lived in Trent’s apartment, I was a recluse. Even after the bond between Juniper and I deepened and she understood what I had been dealing with, I still found myself wary around her. Not because of her, but because I was guarded.

Once, I had shut myself in that empty room, just as I had many times before. It was during another period of depression where I couldn’t bring myself to eat, let alone face anyone. Both Juniper and Trent were understanding, much to my relief. They left bowls of soup next to the door so I wouldn’t starve, but I wasn’t even sure if I took so much as a sip. I might have crept out of the room in the dead of night to wash out the bowl, just so it seems like I ate.

Still, it was nice to know they cared.

What wasn’t nice was who I met, as the door to the room opened. I was sprawled out on the floor, looking listless, and could do without sudden intrusions.

“Well,” a woman’s voice spoke in a huff, “Trent didn’t tell me he had a third person living here.”

I looked over. Some frazzled looking middle-aged woman with frizzy strawberry blonde hair.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m their mother,” she answered, all stern and cross.

I’d say “who does she think she is?” But she already answered my question.

“I see. You’re visiting?”

“I am.”

She gave me a disapproving look. Totally uncalled for.

“Come out. I’d like to have a talk,” her voice didn’t waver, so it sounded much more like an order than a request. I didn’t have to respect it at all, but I did.

I followed her out into the living room and sat down on the couch. She pulled out a chair from the dining room and sat across from me with one leg over the other and arms folded. Just as serious as before. Well, two could play at that game.

“Who are you?” She began the conversation.

“Vesuvius,” I replied.

“How long have you been living here?” Sheesh, she’s really going for the interrogation, huh?

“About a couple years.”

“A couple ye – moving on. What is your relation with my daughter?”

That question took me by surprise. It just seemed so specific.

“None. We just happen to occupy the same space,” I kept my composure. Whatever her goal was, I wasn’t about to give in.

“So you two don’t interact?”

“What’s this about?” The words forced their way out. “Trent’s the one who took me in.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Great. I brought that one on myself.

“I was homeless,” I stated, “he let me stay here. I stay in my room for the most part. I don’t bother anyone, I don’t demand any of their food.”

“And you don’t see a problem with that? I can tell you don’t take care of yourself. You’re thin, pale, fatigued. Do you think that’s fair on Juniper?”

“Why are you focusing on her? If you have a problem, you should take it up with Trent.”

She closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed.

“Trent’s a lost cause, he’d take care of anyone if he could, to the detriment of himself. But there’s still hope for Juniper. She’s got some wits about her, she’s got a little more sense, if only she would act on it.”

“I think Juniper’s capable of making her own decisions,” I countered.

“Be that as it may, you’re just wasting away. What if she opens that door one day and finds a dead body. Do you really think that’s fair on her? Neither of my children should have to take care of you, especially if you won’t take care of yourself.”

I made no comment on that.

“Now, you can go back out on the streets for all I care.”

“That isn’t your call to make,” I hissed.

Her brow creased.

“That’s true. But if you cared about Juniper at all, you would leave.”

I remained silent. Without an answer, she got up and walked to the front door.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” she bade me farewell. Really, I couldn’t have said the same about her.

She was right, though. I was someone who was hunted, pursued. If the organization pursuing me ever found out where I was, both Trent and Juniper would be in harm’s way. It would be careless of me to run that risk.

So after moments of deliberation, I too went for the door. However, before I could depart, the door opened up and Juniper entered.

“Hey, where are you going?” She was shocked to see me in front of her as soon as she walked in. Not to mention, she already pieced together that I was headed out.

“I’ve decided to leave,” I stated. That should have been that. Not another word. Instead, she too scowled, and tears started to form from her eyes.

“No!” She shouted. It took me aback, to the point that I took a few steps back, then tripped back down onto the couch. She climbed up onto the couch, her legs spread out over my own as sat on my lap, leaned down, her forehead pressed against mine, and she looked into my eyes. I tried to look away, but her arms held onto the top of the couch and blocked my vision.

“I want you…” She muttered.

My face grew hot and I really tried to look away.

“You want me?”

She nodded her head.

“I want you...to stay,” she added.

Oh.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” I tried to argue.

“Why? Did you talk to my mom? Did she tell you that?”

I gulped.

“Uh…”

She lowered one arm and placed her hand on my chin, then lifted my head up. There really was no avoiding her gaze now.

Again, I gulped. My face must have boiled over.

“Look, I love my mom, don’t get me wrong, but she can be a little...overprotective. She was always trying to get me to be tough and mean so that I could protect myself from bad people. She would go on about how cruel the world can be and try to drill it in my head, but look, I already knew all that, but I didn’t want to be that kind of person. I don’t want to go my life distrusting everyone. It’s tough being kind, but this is how I chose to be, and I don’t regret it.”

I already knew Juniper had her ‘tough’ side. When we first met, she was the one who stood up to me and managed to convince me to eat with her and her brother.

“She doesn’t know what you’ve been through. So please, try not to pay her any mind.”

I see. Her mom’s just like that. And that thing about trying to ‘toughen up’ Juniper? She must have been a cruel parent.

“Okay...I’ll try…” I struggled to get the words out. Juniper took heavy sighs and I felt her warm breath in my ear.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked.

My heart made little thumps.

“I mean...if you’re bold enough to sit on my lap...you may as well...I mean, I don’t mind…” I stammered.

She leaned in and our lips brushed against each other, then our mouths opened and our tongues tangled into each other. Heavy breaths continued to follow. When she released, she asked:

“Can we take this further?”

I looked down.

“I mean...on the couch? Shouldn’t we do this on a bed or the floor?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Yeah. Maybe my room can be your room, too?”

“S...wh...re...uh…” I stuttered out loose syllables, as I had no words available. I was in total shock.

“Since when did you want to do these things with me?” I spat out. She chuckled in response.

“Hehe, I wonder.”

We can skip the rest of the details. As much as it was a fond memory, it was also quite embarrassing for me. Everything seemed so fast, like a strange chain reaction. Sometime after, I called up Juniper’s mom.

“Sorry, I’m staying here,” I told her flat out.

“Then you better treat her well,” was her response.

Despite such improvements to my life and health, I continued to resent Juniper’s mother. Yes, it was terrible, but I had the idea stuck in my head that she must have been an abusive woman and an antagonistic figure. That nothing good could come from her. So thoughts started to crop up, I would be much happier if she weren’t in my life.

Then it happened.

Not even a few days after such a thought, Conifer Bark died of a heart attack.

It was never meant to be like that. Yes, it was a dark thought that I had, but it was never meant to be made reality. Trent told me that she had been in poor health for a few years now, and in all honesty, I was relieved to not have to deal with her anymore.

When it came time for the funeral and the casket was lowered into the ground, Juniper grabbed the fabric of my shirt and sobbed into my chest. I was confused why she could be so sorrowful for someone who had been such a negative force in her life.

I held onto Juniper tight as she wailed, yet I had nothing to feel on my part.

I wholly believe I was the cause of her mother’s death. Not through any deliberate action, but simply because I had perceived her as a threat to my happiness.

One other side-effect I never mentioned after getting rid of the angel (or demon) that was within me was that some of the gaps in my memories had been refilled, as they must have been intentionally forgotten in order to protect myself. Those memories would surface without cause nor stimuli.

Back when I was a teenager, I had a girlfriend named Sparrow. Once she had a dream where she turned into a sparrow, and ever since then, she decided to go by that name. She was the same age as me, but rather than go to school, lived out on her own in an open field with her van. It might have been because of her that I desired to be such a free spirit, as she was one, herself.

For several years, I believed that I had left her behind after I had traveled through time once, then was pursued by the shadowy organization. In truth, I did reunite with her for a short while. It was when I was still young, and I had returned to my own time after retrieving my father’s time machine. She and I traveled cross-country and had a couple of boys smuggled in the back who we tried to get them over to Canada due to the draft they had been forced into. On principle, we both held great disdain for the military and its atrocities, and would rather have at least saved two people from its sadistic lust for violence.

...Unfortunately, neither of us were successful. We were stopped by a group of people who claimed to be government officials. They captured us, put her and I in two different cells. What happened to those boys, I never found out, but I couldn’t imagine it was anything good.

Through brutal cunning and vicious wit, I escaped and broke her free as well. However, as the ones who oversaw the facility noticed that we had made our escape, they gave chase. There wasn’t much time. I hijacked a truck, and I begged her to come in. She just shook her head and smiled. I got out of the truck, pleaded. My heart raced and I was desperate. I couldn’t see myself leaving without her.

“Please,” I sobbed. “I need you. I know how I’m always saying I don’t need you, but I do!”

Her expression didn’t change.

“No, you were right. You never needed anyone. You should hurry up and leave.”

She walked away. I must have said more, but they fell on deaf ears.

I was enraged. I was devastated. But I couldn’t stay any longer. I didn’t know where I run to, or how I would evade their grasp, but I did.

All the while, the thought pervaded:

There’s no way this is real. I must be making it up. I have to. If it’s real, then I can’t be happy unless I forget about it all.

So I did.

When the memory returned, I was situated in Juniper’s lap. Tears began to roll down my eyes.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Juniper asked.

“I just remembered something,” I told her.

Demetria walked in. She had been out gathering wood for the hearth. Against all odds (well, I say that, but I had no doubts that she could have built one), it had been set up, just in time for winter.

“Did I interrupt something?” She stood with a bundle of logs in her arms.

“No,” I looked up. “I just cry easily sometimes.”

“Huh,” was her reply, then she set the wood into the hearth. “I’ve never been much of a crier, myself.”

I smiled

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” I assured her. In truth, I was only reassuring myself.

“I know. I just don’t do it much.”

As the days passed, I adjusted more to the idea of Demetria living with us. She wasn’t bad at all, and she was a good help around the house. She’d feed the chicken and help with farming. It irked me that I couldn’t get much of a read on her. I thrived on having some kind of an impression of others. Without that, it felt like some kind of omen and I didn’t know how to react.

So in spite of the peacefulness, I continued to stress each day. Perhaps an unfounded stress, but a stress all the same. It might not have helped that Juniper sometimes let the chickens in the house. One morning the whole lot of them charged into Demetria’s room and jumped on her bed. I heard a squeaky, “eep” sound emit from her room.

“Juniper, did you have to let those chickens in the house?” I complained.

“If you’re cold, they’re cold. Let them in!” She replied. I knew I couldn’t talk sense into her at that point, and I loved those chickens too, but goddamn, they were chaos incarnate.

However one would have interpreted the situation, it sure was a literal rude awakening. Even if I wasn’t the one who was given a direct assault, the whole thing left me just a tad on edge. So to counter it, I retreated outside, shivered the whole way through as I went into my greenhouse and retrieved one of the plants. Once I made my way back inside and holed up in Juniper and I’s room, I sat on the floor next to our bed. Beside me was the bong that Juniper had made for me on one of my birthdays. I lit up, and soon all my worries faded, as did the rest of me.

Everything zoned. I zoned out, the room zoned in and out, and my hands were a pulse. My legs became turbo jets and vibrated against the hardwood floor.

“Ah, relief,” I let out the droned words and blew out a puff of smoke. Then came the coughs. That was always my least favorite part, even if I accepted it as a certainty.

“I may as well be the only person in the universe. Maybe there’s other people, too. There could be cows up there. Ah, who cares?” I mused. Even if I didn’t make total sense, I was at ease. That was the most important thing.

Soon I was joined by two silhouettes at the doorway. Silly me, I forgot to close the door.

“Uh, is Ves okay?” One of the silhouettes echoed a sentiment.

“She’s fine, she’s just high,” a familiar echo from other silhouette explained. “It helps her calm down. I’m fine with it, but I don’t smoke myself, as the smoke gives me headaches.”

I knew that voice from anywhere. It was my tree star.

“Juniper! Babe! Pig in the city! My Homeward Bound!” I reached my arms out for her and signaled that she was invited in.

“Is she just naming children’s movies now?” That other voice or echo, asked.

“It’s fine. Hey hun,” she waved.

“Come join me! My legs are a torpedo!”

“In a little bit,” she let out a little laugh. “I think you deserve this time for yourself.”

She was right. I mean, I wanted to cuddle. I wanted to fuck. But that could wait. I had my own time to relax and let all the stress runoff like magma. At least I still had that.

We all survived the winter. Our efforts were a group effort, and that extended to making food and keeping each other warm. Despite never getting a good grasp on what kind of person Demetria was, I grew more at ease around her as time went on. Maybe that was a mistake. I didn’t want to think so, but one evening in late February changed everything.

Huddled on the floor, the three of us played a nice game of poker with tarot cards. Let it be known that one thing Demetria and I had in common was our poker faces. Juniper, on the other hand, always puffed up her cheeks and held back laughter whenever she drew a card. It was clear she didn’t take the game quite so seriously.

It should have been light and relaxing.

Instead, bright lights shone from outside. Demetria leapt to her feet and ducked under the window. She poked her head up, then turned to us.

“Stay inside,” she commanded.

“What’s going on?” I panicked. I could already tell from such brashness in her voice that something was amiss.

“I don’t know.”

Next came the sound of tires screeching. I only heard the grating noise, as I dared not look outside. My hands shook, my nerves short circuited, and everything in me told me that nothing good was to come next.

“They have guns…” Demetria muttered.

They...what?

Without the image, my mind went wild.

“Who’s out there?” Juniper asked.

“I don’t know,” her voice sharpened. “But I can tell it’s nothing good. Stay inside, I’ll keep you guys safe.”

I was confused, but more than that, panic was already setting in.

“What can you even do?!” I cried out.

“I don’t know that either,” she replied, then ran to the back of the house and jumped out from the window in her room.

Once I heard her land on the ground, I sat stunned.

My mind raced. So did my heart. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t have power anymore. I didn’t want to have it again, but I never expected something like that. Something that I had no control over. It ate at me, the unknowing. The confusion. Despite the pulse, the violent pulse that carried through my whole being. It couldn’t be helped. I too went for the front window, and when I saw what was out there, I was sick to my stomach.

Outside the fields were set ablaze. There was a group of burly men in heavy armor and helmets which scattered about the fields.

They’re here. They’re dangerous. But who are they? No. It doesn’t matter who. What matters is that I’m not safe and I should be.

Gunfire erupted. Rat-tat-tat. Thunderous piercing shots. Then, as I cowered and covered my head, covered my ears, buried myself in my legs, I heard the sound: a guttural scream. Bellows and ghastly shrieks. But no tone which indicated Demetria.

“Don’t worry, hun,” Juniper whispered. “We’ve got that sword in my workshop. We can defend ourselves.”

“No!” I snapped, sharp and shrill. “There’s NOTHING! They have guns!”

There was no comfort. There were no magic words, no desires which could erase what was outside our door. I was powerless.

I rocked back and forth, clenched my fists. No. My fists clenched my head. Everything, no matter how much I tightened up, would not go away. I felt a hand upon my shoulder. It must have been Juniper’s. No. It was wrong. I wanted to bat it away, scream. There was no comfort to be had.

What is it? Is it The Flashbulb? But how? I thought Velvet and Coriander took care of them. There shouldn’t be anything, so WHY?! There has to be a reason. There has to be a purpose. Think...THINK. Why?

My mind was frantic, running faster than I could ever hope to catch up, but when the commotion at last subsided and smoke seeped through the windows, I had my answer. It was the only possibility.

I stormed out of the house, ready to erupt.

When I looked around, I saw no flames. It must have been the glow from the lights, my mind. That didn’t matter. All I saw was red. That was, until I drew close to the armored truck that had been parked in the open dirt path. In front of the truck was Demetria, who held one of the armed men by the back of his collar. She saw me and turned, a face I didn’t recognize.

“It’s done,” she announced with a grim expression. She sounded out of breath, but more than that, excited. Like she had been wanting something like that. Like she had anticipated it.

“YOU!” I shouted and pointed a finger at her. “YOU BROUGHT THIS WITH YOU! I WAS FINE HERE UNTIL YOU SHOWED UP! I HAD THE LIFE I WANTED! I HAD PEACE! YOU RUINED IT! YOU TOOK MY HOME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER LET YOU IN!”

My voice was shrill. It was all I could muster. I had nothing else to protect me. I tried to shout, no, scream more words her way. My throat couldn’t take any more. No, my mind. My emotions. I was too weak, far too fragile. I thought I saw her lower lip quivered but when I focused, no. There was nothing indicating that my words had any sort of effect on her.

Even in my desperate screams, I was powerless.

With nothing else, I fell to the ground and broke down into tears.

“Leave,” I forced out the word. Then, I shouted, “do you hear me? Leave. GO.”

I looked up, desperate for her to take the cue. What I saw was her, staring back down at me, unaffected. Her face had a terrifying seriousness, brows creased and a burning gaze. Then, she spoke up:

“Understood. I never meant for this to happen, but I swear I’ll make sure it never happens to you guys again,” she stated with a dearth of emotion.

As she departed in that same armored vehicle which shattered my peace, everything around me faded into a crisp white.

Sirens in my head. I turned equal measure numb and a sobbing mess. I felt a hand upon my back, then Juniper’s voice.

“Come on. Let’s get back inside,” her words broke through, rushed, yet calm. Reluctant, I let her take me in, but the whole night, I thought about how I would be happiest if everyone and everything, including myself, would just cease to exist.

#writing #stories #remoras full #peace #love #wives #lesbians #free spirit #drama

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 5 years ago

Text

Fate/Zero 1 - 25 (FINAL)

Most of these notes stayed intact during Fate/Stay Winter posts, but I’m releasing them in an unedited version here (aside from the dotpoints and read more, of course).

Fate/Zero 1

For some reason, I have it recorded that I’ve watched F/Z ep. 1, but I don’t remember it! I only remember Saber fighting someone…that’s why I have notes for this ep too.

Ewwwwwww…what’s that in the Macedonian box…?

Oh! Heaven’s Feel is the name of one of the movies that came out this year or last.

LOL, the grandparents of Waver literally refer to him as “Waver”. I thought it was a title. Is it really his name???

I’m very good at making connections between seemingly disconnected things using only the things I know. I predict Kariya’s in for a verrrrrrrry bad time and will probably die in this Grail War, if not go bananas. I already know Rin, Ilya (the Einzbern child) and Sakura are already part of the Fate/ canon, so they’re probably going to fight in a Grail War as well.

Ahhhhhhh! B*stard Archer (that is, Gilgamesh)! He’s hereeeeeeeee!

What’s that counter on the ep title card…? Is it the time until the Grail War…?

Fate/Zero 2

I’ve seen enough spoilers being bandied about that I already know Rider is Alexander the Great.

Like, seriously, why do we call the dude “Waver Velvet”? What’s his real name?

Kiritsugu acts as Ilya’s dad, but…I’m pretty sure he isn’t her dad. Kiritsugu’s surname is Emiya, right? He’s Shirou’s dad, as far as I know. Then again, I only know what I know from being around Fate/ fans for so long.

LOL, there are far too many dragons in this name – Ryuunosuke Uryuu.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Is this Giant B*stard Archer???? Is this Giant B*stard Archer??? (i.e. Gilgamesh) Oooooooooh! No wonder people like Gilgamesh, even though they call him a giant loveable b*stard.

Fate/Zero 3

Thy don’t call Rider that for nothin’, eh?

I wonder how Saber managed to get a passport…? She’d need one, eh?

Oh…CGI car…it’s burning my eyesssssssss! (although I do believe Troyca didn’t do any better with El-Melloi’s Case Files)

“Hotel in Fuyuki” – They couldn’t be any more explicit with this stuff, could they…?

“…Highness.” – I can see why Saber is so popular with the Fate/ fans now.

Huh? I seem to remember the battle that comes next! Damn *bleep* <- (censored name of anime club manager responsible for the anime marathon that caused me to go from the beginning of F/Z in the first place)! I definitely remember Saber fighting Lancer.

Fate/Zero 4

(sorry, seen this one! That’s where the confusion was! So no notes here!)

Fate/Zero 5

Berserker looks like Goblin Slayer covered in smoke…LOL.

…Well, they don’t call that guy Berserker for nothin’ either.

Rider would make a great Santa Claus, LOL.

Fate/Zero 6

Isn’t there a Joan of Arc in the Netflix Fate/ (Apocrypha)?

Dang, that Kayneth is an evil b*stard, alright!

Kirei is basically Wolverine…?

No wonder you never hear about Caster when people talk about Fate/��he’s neither hot nor a waifu…so nobody gives a s*** about him.

Fate/Zero 7

Is that a Gantz?

Wait, y’mean Rider is motivated…by pants? *spits* Hahahaha…

You can see Ufotable’s much-praised CGI at work here, too.

I can definitely see why Ufotable was chosen for Katsugeki and why they chose Izuminokami for their protag.

Had to google Jeanne to remember what she looks like in this universe, but yeah…she does look like Saber.

For some reason, I had a fleeting thought that Lancer would be the one to be on the mountain alongside Saber…I was right.

So basically, the entire Fate/ series is this: who would win? A mage or an assassin? (Or something like this.)

Fate/Zero 8

I still think Kirei is basically Wolverine.

Kiritsugu = “to cut and tie”.Update: It’s “to tie” and “to inherit”, apparently.

F/Z 9

I wonder…just what is Lancer’s motivation for the Grail? Surely, Servants have their own motives…

I literally covered my eyes when Sola-Ui bent Kayneth’s finger back…it was almost as bad as seeing Nozomi get tortured (Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka)…*gulp*

“Not well” is an understatement, Sola-Ui.

I had to google how old Waver was in this Grail War…he’s 19, apparently, so right in my strike zone right here, so to speak~.

Beleaguered Waver is what you cool kids would call the 2020 Mood…and yes, I’m watching this on the 1st of January, 2020 (but you’re reading this after I put it up later in the month), so I’m keeping the comment.

“What kind of moron would go busting in?” – *facepalm* It seems Rider would.

What the heck is Rider riding his chariot over on the floor, anyway? What’s up with these sewer creatures ? They’ve got tentacles…!

F/Z 10

Rin reminds me of Asuka (NGE)…*gulp* That can only mean bad things for her.

Zenjo? I’ll make a note of that name.

That one glowing sign says “Fuyuki Station”.

Rin no Bouken = Rin’s Adventure. I don’t see why the subbers included “Big” in there, tbh.

F/Z 11

Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling Saber’s going to get very, very drunk…?

Gee whiz, the great b*stard is a narcissist…

Well, sometimes I forget I had “Archer = Gilgamesh” spoilt for me ages ago…probably because he’s all over Babylonia, not to mention he seems to be one of the more popular characters precisely because he is the great b*stard.

“I wish for my homeland’s salvation.” – An interesting thing to say, considering Brexit.

What the f*** is a Gordius…oh, okay. So that’s Rider’s chariot.

How many Assassins are there??? I thought there was just the one, but there were 4 last time.

This discussion is interesting…no wonder Saber got mistaken for Joan of Arc back in the day.

Welp, Assassins gotta assassinate…*shrugs*

Eyyyyyy…there’s this one guy who looks basically like an older Waver Velvet! That explains a few things, I think.

F/Z 12

“Ramasonic” (sic).

I still think Gil-I mean, Archer’s snakeskin pants are hilarious.

I feel like last episode was a lot better in regards to how good Fate/ could be. This episode is just Ufotable animating talking Gilgamesh and Kirei heads.

Why do I get a bad feeling something bad’s going to happen to Maiya…again?

Kirei trying to look bada*s while leaning against a wall…it looks sort of funny, to be honest with you…because he bends his neck at a funny angle.

F/Z 13

This is the end of the 1st cour, apparently…according to AniList, at least.

“…5 billion people.” – I think the number is 7 billion now, but okay.

Never leave your Servant unsupervised, amirite?

I saw one of the bookstore’s shelves has science fiction on it…hmm, in a show with magic, that seems ironic…or was that non-fiction? Also somewhat ironic.

Oh, this “Don’t you want to do anything fun?” from Rider to Waver is an interesting parallel to Kirei’s episode (the previous one).

Dragon guy’s off his rocker…seriously.

Paraphrasing here, but “…if you want to use the Grail to make yourself taller…” – then stick to milk and other calcium products, Waver…LOL. I mean, other anime characters do.

Even Saber Naruto runs! There are no aliens here…but that car does have gull-wing doors (<-had to google what the doors were called), so…is it a DeLorean or something? Then someone could time travel instead.

I thought one of the previous commands from the overseers was to defeat Caster…?

Fate/Zero has become a kaiju movie, LOL.

Scared Waver is also a 2020 Mood…LOL.

F/Z 14

What’s this “Giant of Light” business…?

Geesh…If Ufotable did a Godzilla movie, I would watch that…(now that this monster makes me think of that possibility.)

This is a small quibble, but is it “Diabolo” or “Diablo”?

Somehow it didn’t even hit me until the fight was halfway over…but does Gilgamesh control a flying airship as part of his Noble Phantasm?!

Pretty scenery or not, talking people standing still are just that…not very entertaining, for sure. It’s basically the only flaw of this series, aside from the fact it hasn’t plumbed the depths of its themes yet.

Ufotable’s clouds look kind of like Gainax’s in Houkago no Pleiades, huh?

Tokiomi seems to blame Kariya for the whole sister vs. sister thing. Hmm, it really just shows how demented the guy is.

F/Z 15

Berserker is only ever in CGI, huh? No wonder Ufotable was given the job.

“That’s…from King Arthur’s legend…” – Can I please interrupt with the Excalibur song? (I’m annoying like that and want to ruin your level of immersion, that’s why.)

Hey, who knew? We get to see Joan in this anime, too. Thank you, Ufotable and Type Moon for saving me a Netflix subscription.

F/Z 16

“Things have been rather hectic this evening.” – Well, you don’t say…

*Saber and Lancer start their fight * - I detect signs there may have been people shipping Saber and Lancer at this point in time, what with their mutual ideas of honour and such.

Kayneth is kind childish, LOL – he’s like a kid peeping at his parents while they complain to each other about a hard day’s work or something.

Uh, this curse from Lancer here is definitely gonna be relevant later, right…?

I was muttering, “Oh goodness” (<- I’m self-censoring here, but you get the point) a few times over when Kiritsugu and Maiya finally got around to killing Kayneth, Lancer and Kayneth’s fiancee. By the way, were those two ever married…? Also, this makes me wonder…what would happen if you got a completely useless Servant? Like “King of Fools” or something. It would sound like the Familiar of Zero, sure, but it would be an interesting exercise in making a compelling narrative.

F/Z 17

Dangit, B*stard Archer. Disappearing just after you provoked Kirei…

Oh! I found the Avalon scene confusing at first, but now that they explain it, it makes a lot more sense.

“As I live and breathe, Kirei!” – Sounds mighty ironic for a meant-to-be-dead historical figure to say that.

F/Z 18

We jump to someone else’s story…or do we?

For some reason, I think this beach place is based on Okinawa. (It seems like the best match.)

“This isn’t a game.” – Seems highly ironic, given his current situation.

I know Kiritsugu is probably looking into Shirley’s eyes, but all they show is the boobs downwards, so I imagine it to be fanservice.

That shaking was just to disguise the bad animation, wasn’t it…?

…and suddenly, zombies!

Well, that’s great, Kiritsugu. You ended up burning down a village by association. Good job…

“Vampires.” – Well, that wasn’t the word I was expecting…

For some reason, I think this new arrival is a woman, but now that I get a proper look at their face, they kinda look like the Great B*stard (Gilgamesh). Update: It looks like they have cleavage, but then they also kinda resemble Samatoki (Hyp Mic)…so, uh…I dunno. Update 2: Okay, she’s a woman…Natalia, to be precise.

The houses on fire look a lot like the ones in Katsugeki, come to think of it.

F/Z 19

Wait, what’s a Mystic Code again…?

Oh, I didn’t think this show would do it, but there’s a good few seconds of recap. I know, because I had to skip it.

Oh, the reason Kiritsugu doesn’t seem to ally with the Association or the Church is because Natalia wasn’t part of either. Right…I’m so dumb.

Am I just reading into Kiritsugu’s pose here too much, or does he look like Christ the Redeemer a bit…?

There’s something oddly pretty about Vorzak. Then again…it’s too bad he’s designated to be dead.

I could tell Kiritsugu was CGI for a second…but he was in fog. Dangit, Ufotable. You know how to disguise your CGI well.

…Okay, those bees were very CGI. Scrap what I just said.

Bees on a plane. What a way to die.

I’ve noticed Kiritsugu’s eyes don’t have any pupils in them. They’re always kind of dead, but not in th same way En’s (<- from Boueibu) are.

What happened to Kiritsugu’s mother…?

The extended flashback seems to be the best way to my heart, assuming you can pull it off properly.

What’s with that “sometime, somewhere”?

F/Z 20

There hasn’t been a proper OP since 3 episodes ago.

Was Maiya ever interested in Kiritsugu as a woman? This vague pseudo-harem sorta annoys me, which is why I need answers.

The crows in this show aren’t very fluffy. Not that I have a problem with that…it’s just a bit random (and I’m saying that as I operate without much sleep and will have a huge period of getting up early in my near future, so you’re probably going to see even more randomness coming from my brain).

Modanyaki. Never thought I’d be googling a Japanese concept for this anime.

This sleeping bag Waver reminds me of Aizawa, but this is at least 4 years too early for that.

That cloud in the top left is shaped funny…like a knight, maybe? (There’s a triangular bit that looks lik a helmet.)

I believe the bird is a bush warbler (uguisu), based on the colour.

So this is where you learn what the f*** a Gordius Wheel is…right.(sounds a bit pissed)

Seeing Kariya squirm…it makes me thank my lucky stars I had the sound off. My imagination makes the scene worse, though.

So fakers beget fakers and killers beget killers, huh? Not surprising.

“I’ve always told him he was doing the right thing.” – Because you didn’t know any better, huh, Iri?

F/Z 21

“Knight on Two Wheels” – What would that knight be riding, a bike…? (somewhat sarcastic)

…A motorbike. Close enough. (not sarcastic anymore)

The motorbike’s plate says “Fuyuki - Te” – instead of a licence plate combo, Japan has a single hiragana.

Well, at least now I know why you never hear of Kariya outside Fate/Zero much…those worms don’t give him long to live.

Isn’t Tokiomi dead though…?

Holy s***, Kariya, you just got framed! *yells in the tone of voice as if Kariya got owned…which he did, in a sense*

*brow furrowed* What’s up with the framing of Aoi’s killing that makes this seem like attempted rape…?

Kirei looks all dead inside. (LOL) I know it’s the animators’ fault that they didn’t bother with him in that scene, but…he has the eyes of a dead fish there, y’know? I can’t help but laugh.

F/Z 22

Never in my life have I seen a grandpa want to talk on the roof.

The grandpa reminds me of Rider…that’s probably where part of their relationship comes from.

You can see the lack of sleep is getting to Kiritsugu right now…his face looks a little sunken…

…Fate/ is apparently pretty infamous for treating its women badly from a feminist persepctive and I think I get why now…(referring to the death of Aoi and now Kirei’s treatment of Iri)

I think the scariest part of F/Z is watching th emotionless guy learn how to feel…kinda like Equilibrium, y’know?

Hmm? I wonder how this show will choose to end, since it’s signalling its end from 3 episodes out?

I predicted Rider would say something along the lines of “…befitting of the Rider class” and lo and behold! He did!

So Rider can summon a single horse as well as the entire chariot? *Saitama face* Okay then.

Number of Times Waver Appears: 1, Number of Times Waver Cries: 1, Number of Times Waver Blushes: 2

Come to think of it, even though I had that weird “Ohhhhhh! Great B*stard Archer!” reaction at first, Gilgamesh has shown up in most of the worst scenes of this show so far (basically, most of the “talking heads” scenes where he talks shop with Kirei). Then again, my change in feelings probably because I’ve had to keep a special eye out for Waver and knew Saber was the poster girl for the entire series.

The counter appears to be “time until the Holy Grail War”…well, that or its final conflict.

F/Z 23

I like how Waver’s joining in with Rider’s yelling.

I have the sound off, so now I’m just mentally narrating Sakura with this creepy child voice and it’s spooking me out…the Urobutcher could really go toe-to-toe with Stephen King if it weren’t my imagination…(LOL…?)

I feel sorry for that car’s owner…the car wasn’t meant to be wrecked…

I fully expect Berserker to be Lancelot or some other guy in King Arthur’s canon, judging by Saber’s reactio-hey, who’s Arondight…? Update: Oh, f***. It really is Lancelot. Turns out Arondight is the name of Lancelot’s sword. How did I know? There’s that upcoming Camelot adaption, isn’t there? Connect the dots.

Oh, f*** me – I feel conflicted. On the one hand, Lancelot’s hella handsome (and his dark hair is exactly my kinda thing), on the other hand…doesn’t he look like he came out of Castlevania or Vampire Hunter D or something??? F***in’ vampires!

Oh, f*** again, I stand corrected. Lancelot was handsome, before he became a Caster-looking…thing.

*bursts into spontaneous laughter* The new Lancelot looks kinda like Tsukasa from Dr Stone, LOL.

Number of Times Waver Cries: 2

Wait, isn’t Bucephalus Greek??? Update: No, he wasn’t. He was Alexander the Great’s horse. That explains why he’s Rider.

I was wondering how Waver managed to live long enough to be El-Melloi II when he was stuck in a battle to the death. Welp, that’s how he did it, folks! *points at screen*

Number of Times Waver Cries: 3…but…anti-climax, much, f***in’ Gilgamesh???

Uh, what’s up with Psalm 23:4? (I had to google that snippet of the Bible to find out its citation.)

LOL, Kirei and Kiritsugu have very similar faces. Didn’t realise that until now.

F/Z 24

It’s weird seeing Kirei full of fighting spirit…He’s still frickin’ Wolverine, though.

Is this taking cues from the Matrix? I bought it from the charity store the other day because I haven’t seen it yet, but I know Bullet Time from TV Tropes.

Now Kirei is channeling Bruce Lee, LOL.

Ouch…the bullet to the hand reminds me of the nail gun scene in The Island (which still freaks me out to this day). (…and now I’ve gone and done it – every time I think of that movie, I get the song The Island – part 1, at least - in my head as well.)

I can almost see Sakaido (from ID: Invaded) in some of these scenes instead of Kiritsugu…trust Ei Aoki and associates to do that.

I went to dump a screenshot in Paint and one of my Fate/ backgrounds from one of the previous posts was set to my background! (I have my backgrounds set to rotate every 12 hours and I have over 600 pictures for that purpose.) *sighs happily and incredulously* Well, whaddaya know…sometimes the stars do align.

I almost expected Shirley to appear, but it turns out it was Iri instead.

Kiritsugu still has his Command Seals so he’s still connected to the Grail War somehow…hmm…

C’mon, I predicted Gilgamesh would compliment Saber when she was down and bleeding.

F/Z 25 (FINAL)

Who’s Lord Justeaze?

Sakura has the same eyes as Kiritsugu. Dead, lifeless eyes.

Did Kariya just throw himself to the worms???

The Great Naked B*stard Gilgamesh.

A priest is a zombie, huh? How ironic.

Isn’t Gilgamesh annoyed by his lack of clothes…? Update: Never mind. He gets a cloth soon enough.

Wait, if Saber destroyed the Grail, who won…?

Huh? The timer ran out.

Aw, even Waver’s growing up.

One of the books says 零戦 (reisen) which apparently means “Zero Fighter [Plane]”. One of the sets of books says “William Shakespeare”, who I know is a Servant somewhere in the Fateverse.

The Bible verse is Job 19:25.

Lancelot’s head doesn’t disappear when the rest of him fades away…It’s pretty poignant.

Jubstacheit is the head of the Einzberns. Update: Think I had to google that.

“Becoming a hero has an expiration date.” – As much as I know that in my creative heart to not be true, my adult heart says yes, it’s true.

Welp, that’s the end of one series. Time for another.

#Fate/Zero

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ticklishhpickle · 6 years ago

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Worth The Whisk (5/?)

Summary: When superhero Dan Howell gets paired up with fellow hero and arch nemesis Phil Lester for an important mission, he’s pissed beyond belief. But as the two are forced to work together to take down the evil Dr.Bickletwist, Dan finds Phil might not be as awful as he first thought…

Previous Chapter

Ao3 link

Dan knew the mission wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t realise how mind-numbingly difficult it was going to be to work in harmony with Phil. They’d left only 10 minutes ago yet were already fighting, mindlessly throwing insults back and forth.

“So I’m guessing flying is your only useful power, huh? I can’t see how shooting measly specks of glitter out of your hands is going to help us defeat Bickletwist.” Dan sneered, his brown hair fluttering in the wind and getting in his face. You could say that flying wasn’t Dan’s favourite activity.

Phil rolled his eyes, trying his best not to lose his cool and countered with an insult of his own.

“I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure shooting rays of sunshine out of my hands to burn enemies is more useful than your superpower of being a giant ass.”

Dan growled but then chose to remain silent. He was fighting a losing battle. Instead, he focussed his attention to Phil’s stupid, stupid cape, insulting it in his head. Seriously, it was dumb. It had a large checkered pattern of obnoxiously bright green and blue, matching Phil’s obnoxiously bright personality. Okay look, Dan couldn’t really insult it that much. Dan pretty much had the exact same cape, except his was coloured black and grey. Dan didn’t really understand why the capes were designed this way, they looked like fucking bed quilts in his opinion. For some reason, Ocean Liner had assigned Dan and Phil with matching capes on graduation day. Upon questioning, the large man had just shrugged his shoulders and muttered something that sounded like, “In due time you will figure it out.” Dan wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to figure out whatever that was supposed to mean.

Flying was something Dan really dreaded doing, but it looked like Phil felt the opposite. His admittedly silky black hair was blowing gently in the wind, sparking feelings of jealousy in Dan. His own hair would not cooperate, he swore he had swallowed at least five strands of his own hair in this flight alone. Phil’s eyes were open with wonder. Dan found it extremely jarring to say, and even admit, but it was undeniable that Phil looked like an innocent little child who’d just discovered Nickelodeon for the first time. It was a pity such a pure and innocent looking man could actually be such a dick. What had gone wrong? Seriously, Dan honestly believed they could have had a healthy, long-lasting friendship if Phil hadn’t turned into such a jerk out of nowhere. He tried to think about what went wrong but he came up blank. At age 12 when Dan and Phil were actually friends, Phil had treated Dan with nothing but kindness and respect- the opposite of what he treated him with now. The man huffed, being careful not to be too loud. He didn’t have the energy to fight with Phil anymore, at least not for today.

Dan tore his eyes away from the man next to him and glanced down at the land below them briefly. The houses in this town were quite modern. He paid particular attention to one house that had a cute little chimney sticking out. Dark grey smoke was billowing out of it, and attached was a weathervane in the shape of rooster.

Wait a second.

Why could Dan see that the weathervane was in the shape of a rooster? He was miles above the town, he was flying for fuck’s sake! The weathervane got closer, swinging around teasingly. Or was it Dan that had gotten closer?

Okay yep, it was definitely Dan that had gotten closer. He felt the wind blowing his hair up into a stupid-looking quiff. Fuck.

This fall was going to be a big one.

“Phil! We’re falling! We’re fucking falling, what do we do?” Dan screamed, tapping on Phil’s shoulder furiously.

The older man blinked. Once. Twice. He looked down and his face dropped. They were screwed.

“What? How did this even happen?” The black-haired man exclaimed, flapping his arms wildly in an attempt to fly again. It didn’t work.

“Fuck, I have no idea but if we’re don’t do something soon we’re going to be impaled on that pretty little weathervane.” Dan pointed down at the weathervane, which in response seemed to wink cheekily at him. Or maybe it was just glinting in the sun.

The two boys continued free falling for seconds more, precious seconds that were the short distance between death and life. Dan was an idiot- there was a surefire way out of this mess that he’d used many times when rescuing victims of supervillains. Dan let out a gurgled war cry of sorts before grabbing onto Phil’s body before enveloping both of them in a black swirl of smoke.

Dan opened his eyes to the sight of his lanky companion swiping furiously around his face, ushering the black smoke surrounding him away. Upon noticing the fact that was Phil was coughing heavily, Dan quickly materialised the smoke away.

“Sorry about that. It was the only way I could have saved us. Are you alright?” Dan asked, his brow creased with worry. He still hated Phil of course, but he wasn’t so much of an asshole as to want the man to choke on smoke he’d created.

Phil gave one last cough before looking at Dan wearily.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for saving me, I guess.” The black-haired man was visibly struggling to thank his enemy for his heroic act, but Dan appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Dan nodded in acknowledgement before finally paying attention to his and Phil’s surroundings. Their incredibly long bodies were crammed in a tiny ‘room’ - if you could even call it that, it couldn’t have been larger than the average toilet cubicle in a restaurant - with mirrors on all four sides and a red velvet curtain acting as a door. Oh. They were in a changeroom.

Usually, when teleporting Dan had a place in mind for where he wanted to teleport to. However, there was only so far he could teleport thanks to his flawed powers and the clearest point of destination Dan had thought of during his fall was ‘somewhere soft’. He guessed this changeroom fit the description, with its soft red carpet that Phil had comfortably been able to have a coughing fit on.

“Dan. Two questions.” Phil said, voice a lot clearer than it was a few moments ago. Hopefully he’d coughed out all the residual smoke.

“Yes?”

“Okay firstly, why did you teleport us to a changeroom in a random store? Couldn’t have teleported us to, I don’t know, maybe Dr.Bickletwist’s island so we could hurry up and save those kids already?” Phil asked judgingly, glancing at his own wan complexion in the mirror in front of him, no doubt a result of his near-death experience.

Dan huffed. Trust Phil to criticise him even after he’d just saved his life.

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, you know I can only teleport certain distances. Third of all, we don’t even know where Dr. Bickletwist’s lair is. Third of all, I didn’t have a clear destination in mind when I was teleporting us. So now we’re here. And your other question?” Dan gritted out, feeling like he was ready to end Phil’s life despite the fact he’d just saved it.

“Calm your farm, little man.” Phil tousled Dan’s hair condescendingly. Dan went to bat his hand away but it was already retracted.

Phil’s face quickly turned from playful to serious. “Anyway, what I was going to ask is do you have any idea why we were falling? I haven’t had such a severe fault in flight as this in five years! And I’m pretty sure you haven’t either! It doesn’t make sense why we couldn’t fly all of a sudden.”

Dan sat up, pushing himself up from his slouching position with the soft palms of his hands.

“I literally have no idea. But I’m worried. Something’s going on. We’ll have to check that all our other powers are still working- we know my teleportation still works at least.”

“I bet you it’s to do with Bickle. What else could explain this?” Phil replied.

“But he doesn’t even know we’re coming, does he?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He is Dr. Bickletwist after all. There’s a reason why The Sunshine Man and The Billowing Whisk were chosen to stop him.” Phil exhaled and bit his lip.

Dan looked at Phil inquisitively. What was that supposed to mean? Phil noticed Dan’s confusion and continued, “I hate to admit it but, we’re both probably the best superheroes the agency’s got.” Dan gasped, then felt himself involuntarily break out into a dimpled smile. Had Phil Lester really just… complimented him? Non-sarcastically? He felt something warm stir inside of him at Phil’s remark, a feeling Phil hadn’t stirred in Dan in a long time. Dan did miss being friends, as hard as it was to admit.

Before Dan could respond, Phil spoke up again. “Don’t get your cape in a twist over that, it was one compliment. Now, we better get out of here soon before someone gets suspicious. We’re already in fucking capes and wearing underwear outside on top of our pants rather than inside.”

Dan blinked, forcing himself out of his train of thought and stood up. He brushed his pants down of any lint they could have picked up from the red carpet and pushed the curtain aside, gesturing exaggeratedly for Phil to exit first. Phil shook his head amusedly and stepped out of the room.

The first thing Dan noticed when they stepped out was a curvy young woman with very obviously dyed red hair with blonde streaks sitting idly on a chair in front of the changerooms. She was chewing a piece of gum loudly, clutching the magazine she was reading titled ‘Cosmo’ with only one hand. The other hand was splayed out on the chair next to her for whatever reason. Upon closer inspection, Dan noticed the wet glint in her red nails. Ah, so she was drying them.

“Alright boys, what was going on in there? You know changerooms are meant for trying clothes only, not new sex positions. I can see why you’d think this kind of store would allow that, but even we have standards.” The woman’s voice was rough and grating, and she looked Dan and Phil up and down in a way that was highly disconcerting for both men.

Phil blushed profusely, quickly jumping in to defend the woman’s highly false assumption of Dan and Phil’s changeroom activities.

“We weren’t doing anything, I swear! We’re not even together!” Phil cried, clearly humiliated. Was it wrong of Dan to feel a little offended? Surely he wasn’t so bad looking that Phil would be so embarrassed by the knowledge of a stranger thinking Phil and him had had sex. Okay…. Fine. Dan knew that Phil’s defensiveness was probably more of a result of the accusation of doing something so indecent in a public place. Phil was probably nowhere near as innocent as the name ‘The Sunshine Man’ suggested, but it didn’t mean he’d want to be known as a public sex fiend. Meanwhile, Dan was still a virgin- something he definitely could not let Phil find out. No doubt the man would tease him to no end about it.

The woman let out an obnoxious, hyena-esque chuckle before pointing a finger with semi-wet nail polish at Dan and Phil. “Sure you’re not. Look at yourselves!”

Dan quickly glanced down at his own stance, and then Phil’s. They were both standing with their feet approximately half a metre apart, their arms crossed and had the same pouty expression on their faces. They quickly changed their stances and blushed, not knowing what to say.

The woman rolled her eyes at this before shooing them away.

“Now go back to the rest of the store, and maybe buy something, ya know? I need to make a living somehow. Enjoy your convention.”

What did she mean? What convention? And why didn’t the woman question why Dan and Phil were wearing ridiculous-looking superhero costumes? Dan frowned, wanting answers as he marched determinedly out of the changeroom area of the store. However, all these questions were abruptly pushed out of his mind the second he saw exactly what was in the rest of the store, replaced instead with a thought -

Why the fuck were there at least 50 dildos in this room?

Next Chapter

#phan

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ptw30 · 7 years ago

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Awesome art by xblackpaladin

Fic: Scar Tissue - Part One/Part Two/Part Three/Epilogue

A part of the Blade!Shiro series

Summary: Shiro offers to return to the empire and Sendak to help the Blade of Marmora gather intel, and his former life is revealed to Kolivan, who promptly loses his "universe's best Galra!dad mug."

Warning: Mature. Past sexual acts are implied but not discussed explicitly.

Three Annuals Ago

Sendak’s lips quivered with barely restrained rage. His teeth gleamed in the dim light of the bedroom, and the vicious countenance of his usually reserved features injected a heavy dose of fear into Shiro.

“Enough excuses,” the Galra commander snapped, voice resounding with sharp reproach. “I have been generous with your freedom for far too long. It’s time you learned your place.”

Frustration and fear fueled the violent trembling of Shiro’s fists, and no amount of sheer will could stop them. “You don’t own me, Sendak. I can’t –”

“You just killed someone, Takashi. A soldier, no less, a lieutenant who served under Commander Marvok.”

The truth cut low and quick, as did the desperation. “He was going after Keith. I-I couldn’t let him – ”

Sendak paused, amber eyes averting to the small being asleep upon the couch in the next room, swaddled in a mess of blankets and his brother’s large jacket. Shiro watched the commander closely. The Galra’s dark but casual dress of a simple black over jacket with maroon accents added a level of intimacy Shiro struggled to accept. Even now, Sendak’s face remained fierce and protective, and Shiro refused to acknowledge the commander’s immediate actions after finding Shiro next to Marvok’s bloody and lifeless subordinate.

“Do you know what this could cost me?” The commander’s harsh voice shook Shiro from his daze. “If anyone discovers I helped clean up your mess – ”

Shiro’s fingers fidgeted with the soft creases of the plush robe. “I’m sorry. And thank you. You know I’m grateful for – ”

“I do not want your gratitude. You will come live with me. Your brother will be sent off to the appropriate school – ”

Shiro’s chin snapped up. “No!”

Sendak continued, undeterred, arms crossed. “He will be given the full rights of a Galra cub, assimilated into the empire as one of its potential recruits – ”

“You can’t do that! You have no right – ”

“It is you who has no rights.” Sendak’s cruel snarl pierced Shiro’s gut with pure panic. “You are an undocumented citizen, a lower lifeform, and as such, you will surrender completely to me.”

Shiro never felt so weak, so frightened, so enraged. “I’m not yours! I’ll never be yours, and I won’t ever surrender to – ”

Sendak’s attack came swift and effortlessly, teasing Shiro’s long bangs and brushing across the bridge of his nose. It reminded Shiro of the tender caresses and sweet poison the Galra commander embraced him with.

Until a warm sensation slid down cheeks and nose; pain rushed after it.

Shiro’s fingertips swiped across his face and came away wet and red.

“You have no choice in the matter,” Sendak sneered. “Your delusions of freedom end now.”

Now

“And only the commanders have access?”

Ulaz responded to Kolivan’s earnest inquiry with a nod, fingers tapping across the screen keypad to highlight the empire’s compound in Drule Central. The unbelievably tall building stretched high into the velvet sky, curving like a sickle and aglow with the eerie purple light of the Druids’ awesome power.

“Zarkon ordered his highest commanders back to Drule Central to discuss Haggar’s newest project,” Ulaz continued, voice altered and grating behind his Blade mask. “Sendak has been attending daily, along with Prorock, Morvok, Throk, and even Lotor.”

Antok shifted, arms crossing over his burly chest. “For the prince to attend means Zarkon believes the entire empire’s future resides upon this.”

“Which is why we need to find out what it is now,” Kolivan proclaimed. “Thace, has Prorock indicated the nature of this project?”

“Nothing.” The lieutenant sighed. “He has been returning more…reserved than usual. I might even say scared.”

“Sendak has been abnormally quiet as well,” Ulaz added, “but once he returns, he scours over schematics of Zarkon’s Central Command System. Perhaps the project means to transforms Zarkon’s command ship into a weapon in and of itself.”

Kolivan’s mask face gave away none of his emotions, and though his shoulders tensed, his hands rested perfectly poised in the center of his back. “What kind of weapon?”

“Any idea would be conjecture.”

Shiro listened patiently from his usual spot, a step to the side of Kolivan, eyes roaming about the detailed schematic above. The Blades wore their masks, as per protocol, though that order never made sense to Shiro, especially when strategizing with Ulaz, Thace, Antok, and Kolivan. They all knew each other intimately, having worked together and lived together for almost three years, so there was no need to hide their identities from one another. But Shiro held his irrelevant reservations to himself, shrugging it off as another eccentric Galra custom, while Thace and Ulaz explained the difficulties of obtaining access to the infamous meeting chambers.

With magical wards, secret clearance codes, and limited assets, breaking into the Galra’s Central Command sounded like a suicide mission, so the better option would be to gain access through old-fashion methods.

Seduction, and if that didn’t work, coercion.

“I’ll get in,” Shiro offered, pointedly ignoring the downward glower Kolivan’s slow head tilt indicated. “Can one of our techs rig an encryption key to send the data back here automatically?”

Antok’s grating voice echoed through the chamber’s silence, “And how do you plan to get in?”

Shiro swallowed the sudden bile that poisoned his voice. “It doesn’t matter. I can gain access to the room, but once in, I’m not sure I’ll be able to extract the information myself – ”

“You can gain access to one of the empire’s most guarded points, and you haven’t thought to tell us this before?” Kolivan admonished with more than a little incredulity.

Shiro briefly closed his eyes, the venomous thoughts threatening to buckle his knees. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to think about his past if he didn’t have to, though he did every time he looked in the mirror.

His stomach roiled as the bitter memories flashed before his eyes, and he appreciated the mask that hid his shameful emotions from the Galra whom he respected the most. He glanced away, briefly making eye contact with Thace and Ulaz, and the pity hit him hard. He forced himself to keep from fidgeting, from showing weakness in front of Kolivan, who scrutinized him with laser accuracy.

He was the Son of the Blade. Kolivan bestowed that honor upon him. He would be worthy of it.

“It wasn’t of any concern,” Shiro replied, proud of the firm edge in his voice, “and I can only use this strategy once.”

Sendak would never let him go a second time.

“Explain,” Kolivan ordered.

Shiro relented, jaw tight, anxiety and dread burning low and deep in the pit of his belly. “I know Sendak from…before,” as he referred to his time prior to the Blades. “He will see me if I request an audience.”

Kolivan’s shoulders bunched, and his head ducked until it hovered inches before Shiro’s shorter form. “How do you know?”

“He’s never said no to me before.” Three years had passed since their last meeting, but Shiro held no doubts that Sendak wouldn’t want to see him, even if only for less-than-innocent reasons.

Shiro shuttered at the thought, unable to hide his visual reaction from Kolivan, but the lapse of composure lasted less than a moment as Shiro hardened his resolve. If he needed to sacrifice himself to save the universe from the empire, then he would do what was necessary.

“Why would Sendak want to see you?” Kolivan all but accused, prompting Ulaz to step forward.

“Kolivan, we should talk – ”

“I did not ask you, Ulaz.”

“Dismiss the cub,” Thace agreed. “Shiro should not be part of this mission. There are other avenues to explore.”

The leader of the Blade of Marmora refused to yield, massive claws wrapping about Shiro’s shoulders. “What don’t they want me to know?”

Shiro trembled, but Kolivan persisted when Shiro’s chin dropped, claw tenderly tapping the bottom of the mask. Their glowing violet eyes met again, and despite the snarling disputes behind him, Kolivan remained firm. This, he would attain – like everything he had in life – through sheer determination and devoted concern.

Kolivan wanted nothing more to understand, and perhaps, that hurt Shiro the most.

“Tell me,” the leader demanded, and Shiro found his every defense crumbling. He could never speak of his physical transgressions, especially not to Kolivan, but he could give the leader a glimpse into his past without saying a word.

Though keeping his hood raised, Shiro deactivated his mask and traced his scar across the bridge of his nose. After a moment of absolute silence, the claws upon his shoulders contracted in a desperate, painful motion that twisted Shiro’s entrails.

“Kolivan – ”

Kolvian tore away then. Trembling hands tumbled off Shiro’s shoulders before he swung toward Ulaz and Thace, voice raw and shrieking in a way Shiro had never heard it before. “This – Right here. This is why we do not allow lower lifeforms in the Blade of Marmora!”

Lower lifeforms? Shiro flinched as if hit. Kolivan hadn’t referred to him with such disdain since that day he woke the blade at the Thaldycon base.

Ulaz stepped forward, hands rising to calm their leader. “Kolivan, you do not understand what has transpired – ”

“You knew of this when you brought him to the Thaldycon base,” Kolivan accused, scorn choking his words. “You knew of his connection to Sendak, and yet you still sought to allow his admission?”

“The Blade chose Shiro,” Antok offered, stepping between the advancing Ulaz and the snarling Kolivan. “He awakened it. He has every right to be among our ranks.”

“And he is not loyal to Sendak,” Ulaz added, ignoring the hand upon his shoulder. “He doesn’t even know what the mark – ”

Kolivan growled, “Regardless, he proposes to serve the empire once more in exchange for these plans.”

“Yes,” Thace agreed, “but it is out of his sense of duty to the Blade that he is willing to – ”

“ – fall to his knees like a proper mate? As if that makes it any less revolting, Thace.”

Nausea crept up the back of Shiro’s throat and spread a terrible taste over his tongue, and he only managed to retain any semblance of sanity out of sheer confusion.

“Mate?” he echoed, voice raspy and dry. “What do you mean by ‘proper mate’?”

Kolivan spun toward Shiro, and with the mask effectively shielding Kolivan’s features, Shiro could only imagine the incensed glare that would have burned his face and soul. “You were marked by Sendak and do not know? How is that remotely possible?”

Shiro kept silent, utterly abashed by the response that came a moment later, sputtered in a fit of pure rage.

“Galra mate for life, and when they choose their lover, they mark each other with a scar, generally across the face to ward off other Galra from courting their chosen one.” Disgust tainting his voice, Kolivan proclaimed, “Your scar marks you as the mate of Sendak, but as a lower lifeform, it also deems you his property.”

Shame slammed heard into Shiro’s gut, robbing him of air, but Kolivan continued, undeterred.

“We accepted you so young, I thought the scar to be superficial, but that is how you survived after your parents left, isn’t it? I am aware that lower lifeforms generally do not have the luxury of monogamy, but this! To be claimed by the highest commander of the Galra Empire – truly an abhorrent accomplishment, Shiro.”

Shiro heard Kolivan’s sardonic roar, but it sounded far away, almost as if Kolivan spoke to someone else. Shiro’s entire body flashed numb as the entire room went silent except for the heavy pounding of blood in his ear. He stood there, muscles locked and frozen, humiliation burning his face and spiking his stomach.

“Kolivan,” Antok admonished, and Kolivan hit off his mask, the tiny buzz echoing like a horn in the still Hilt.

Then Shiro saw a fate worse than anger – pity. It enveloped Kolivan’s crestfallen expression, and that one look severed the thin tether to sanity Shiro had managed to cling to.

Kolivan took a step forward, claw reaching toward Shiro. “Takashi – ”

But Shiro did the only thing he could do – activate his mask and flee the command chamber.

To Be Continued...

More from the Blade!Shiro series

#Shiro #Kolivan #voltron: legendary defender #Shendak #blade of marmora #Ulaz #Antok #Sendak #ptw30 pens #blade!shiro

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asher-blackwood · 6 years ago

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Chapter 4 Mysteries and Secrets

August 12th dawns with fog hugging the ground as the small group steps out on to the London street. Harry walks beside Bill and Remus while Snuffles, the large black dog, leads the way. They make it to the smokey pub with little trouble and retrieve the room keys from Tom. Once upstairs Sirius shakes himself settling down on the floor. Harry remembers the conversation a few days earlier and sighs. Remus stared at the letter Arthur had just given Harry not quiet sure what to make of it. He knew Sirius would want to go and couldn't, at least not as himself. He knew he would be going regardless, but he would need someone to come with him. So there he sat with Harry's summons to the DOM in his hand trying to think. Harry, for his part could see all of this in his adopted fathers face. He thought about all the people who could go and realized the problem was much big then just someone to hang out with. the person he chose would have to be someone he could trust with what ever was going to happen. Then it hit him. "Remus... could we maybe invite Bill to come with us. I know we can't bring Mione or Ron, but Bill is like an older brother and I trust him. " Remus' head shot up and he blinks at his cub. The boy was so bright, he knew what the problem was and had a solution. " Yes Cud, I think inviting Bill would be a perfect idea." After call the other two men into the room they began planning there short trip. In the end they decided to take a two day three day trip. this way they could finish all the shopping and their business at the bake. So Remus wrote to Gringotts as one of Harry's guardians. while the others go pack and make a list of what they still needed to buy in town.

Harry shakes himself as the others enter the rooms behind him. Once the door is shut and the necessary charms are in place Sirius changes back into his normal self. Rapping his arms around Remi he looks at the group, "So do we head into muggle London first or did you want to shop in the ally while we wait for our appointment at the bank?" Bill thinks they should stick to the ally today and save the muggle shopping for the next day. Harry agrees since he's almost center that tomorrows meeting at the ministry was going to suck. So the group left the pub for the wizarding district beyond. They where able to get most of Harry's things before the 10:00 meeting but as time drew closer Remus says it would be best to be early, so they shrunk the shopping and head for the bank.

The marble floors and high sealing still captivate Harry was they walk through the doors of Gringotts. However he is no longer an eleven year old boy and as they approach one of the clerks he proves it. Bowing his head to the goblin behind the desk he request to meet with the mangers of the potter and black accounts. The clerk sen the message off and call for another much younger goblin to escort them to the meeting room. The room itself was not every personal, though still elegant, it had a lager desk comfy chairs and a lot of filling cabinets. In addition it has a large window behind the desk filling the room with warm light. Harry took the seat in the middle with Remus on his left and Sirius on his right. Bill took the seat behind Harry like a rear guard. The side door opens and two venerable goblins walk in. Harry and the others stand and the young man bows low saying, "Greeting to you both this day. May you gold grow and the blood of your enemies flow." The goblins smile at the young man, "Greetings to you this day Mr. Potter. May your enemies fall and your gold ever grow." The three others sat after Harry and the Goblins have. The pair introduce themselves as Grimrought accountant and Keeper to the ancient and noble house of Black. The other was Venomfang accountant and Keeper of the ancient and noble house of Potter. It surprises Bill to hear the Potters need a Keeper, to have need of one means there is much more to Harry's family then he thought.

"So young master Potter what is it that you need from us today." Venomfang speaks with a rich deep voice. Harry takes a deep breathe, " I would like to hear my parents will, and claim my Lord ships." They look at one another and nod. " Very well but there are some test that must be done first and of course we must open the will and Lord Black must bequeath his Lord ship to you as his heir." The older men in the room looked confused, "What test are you talking about?" Remus asks calmly before Sirius can get upset. VenomFang then explains that there are parts of the Potter will that have been past down from before the family was even called Potter. For Harry to inherit those he would have to be tested. If he passes then they will discuss the matter. If not then the bank will continue maintaining the families unclaimed property until such time as an appropriate person is found. Sirius calms down saying they could take care of his part fist, to get it out of the way. Once all the paper work was completed and the two bankers explain that in doing this he would be seen as an adult, they gave Harry the Black family ring . This ring shows he is the head of the Black family and all properties, money , and people with in the family were his domain.They also tell him that he has more benefits to his Lord ships but they will tell him the rest once they complete the will reading so he may claim his full titles.He places the ring on his finger and magic surges through him sending his vision white. Once the color comes back to his world Harry's head thrums with a dull ache, but he asks that they go on.

Grimrought and Venomfang walk over to a filing cabinet, placing their hands on one it and speak softly in gobbledygook. The bottom door opens wide and a beautiful wooden casket rises out of it. The aged pair carry it back over to the desk and place it on top. "We will need a drop of your blood young Lord Black." Harry nods holding out his hand. Venomfang take a large bone needle out and pricks the teens finger letting the blood fall on the casket. The carvings on it begin to glow a soft blue as the lock clicks open. Remus clears the blood away and raps Harry's finger while the bankers pull out the contents . Laying on a blue velvet cloth were Five scroll cases, though three were set apart, a blue orb, a red soft leather bag, and a plane wooden box. Harry sat his body tense with excitement and something he couldn't name. It wasn't fear more like anticipation but for what. "Well shall we begin the reading Lord Black?" Harry nods allowing the Goblins to begin. They tap the blue orb and the forms of James an Lilly Potter rise out of it and begin to speak.

[ I James Henry Potter and I Lilly Kathrine Potter (nee Evans) being of sound body and mind set this will in the event of or untimely death. First to Remus Lupin our brother in all but blood we leave one million gallions and Potter Cottage. We know how much you love it Moony, you and Padfoot can relax there. Second To Sirius Black our brother in all but blood we name god father to Harry and with Remus we hope you love him as much as we do. Take care of him and Moony they need you. we also leave one million gallions and thing i helped you buy ,Just ask him Pads he won't say no. Third to Peter Petigrue a one way ticket to Azkaban may you rot there. Forth to Alice and Frank Longbottom we hope you will help the boys raise Harry, Alice and that our little ones will grow up together like brothers. Forth to Albes Dumbledor please be a good teacher for Harry but let him live his own life. Finally to our son Harry James Potter we leave the properties,riches and titles of the Potter family and should you be found worthy you shall inherent the secret our family has carried for generations. We love you very much Harry and no matter what we are proud of you. Learn, Live, and Love prongslet the rest will come. That's it then good luck. We are with you always.]

Harry sits holding back his tears as the images of his parents fades away. The goblins give the small group a few moments before moving on. "Now Lord Black I know this is hard but we must move forward." Harry nods taking a deep breathe and straightening his back. Venomfang gives him a proud smile and continues. "Alright next we have the first test, if he passes that one he will take the second , and then we will write the Ministry so the proper departments can be notified. If not then he will simply take the Potter Lord ship as is." While he spoke his skillful hands took hold of what Harry had thought was a large leather bag. However when he unties the ribbon it is proves to be a circle with gold and silver worked beautifully into the leather.I side are five objects all well made and well loved. The first object is a bracelet of Celtic knots rapping a phoenix and dragon in a loving embrace ; next is a necklace the chain is simple silver with a shield baring a coat of arms Harry thought he had seen in a book once but couldn't remember it; third is a dagger with a red stone in the hilt and a dragon on the scabbard; fourth is a cloak clasp made to look as if it was held in place by the dragon biting its own tail; Fifth and final was a ring carved out of some kind of bone to look like a dragon rapping around your finger. The goblin lays each piece carefully in a line on the leather, then looks at the young man. "Alright then Lord Black , lets begin. Please pick the item that calls out to you the most. Once you have it in your mind I would like you to reach out and touch the object. If it responds to you the you chose correctly if not then we move on." Harry looks at all the things on the leather carefully then closes his eye. In his mind what stands out the most is the bracelet and with it come a flash of images; bright silver eyes, long hair like a golden sunset and a smile like none he has every seen before. With out thinking he reaches for the bracelet and it's warm to the touch. Almost as soon as his fingers graze the metal it begins admitting a soft glow. Venomfang claps his hands together, " Wonderful, absolutely marvelous. Now my esteemed Lord if you will please come with me to do the second test. Grimrought will stay here with your things and two of your companions for only one may came with you. Please choose we must go soon. Oh and please put the bracelet on." The old goblin was very excited by this turn of events and Harry couldn't help but smile. Looking at the three men in the room he wasn't sure who to take. Remus seeing his plight took pity on him saying, "Why don't you take Bill , Sirius and I can wait here for you." Padfoot was about to say something when Moony stomps his foot. Harry blinks wide eyes at them but Bill just laughs, " Come on Harry we better get going ." As they left he whispers to Harry. "I think Remus understood you didn't know how to choose between your Dads . Don't worry he'll calm Sirius down." The younger man nods and they fallow after Venomfang.

The cart whizzes past passages as they hurtle deeper beneath the earth. Harry remembers the first time he come here with Hagrid, the same feelings of excitement and fear course through him as they travel the depths of Gringotts' underground. After what seams like forever, even in a gringotts cart, they finally reach their destination. The vault itself has a large bronze door with ruins carved into the metal. It did not have a handle or lock instead there is a whole. Not very deep mind you, but at the top was a wicked looking spike and at the base a golden bowl fixed into place. Venomfang leads Harry to the opening and explains that the vault needs his blood to open. So he cuts his finger on the spike and drips his blood into the dish below. The ruins on the door glow as bright as moonlight and the vault swings open.

The three walk inside the vault and into darkness as the door snaps shut behind them. They were only in the dark for a moment when a soft light appears above them filling the room. Harry looks around the dimly lit space wondering why they were here when his eye fell upon the for statues in the room. They are all different and each holds an object. He walks over to them not even aware of what the other are doing. The first statue was of a young man dressed like a squire a sword in his hands. Next a young woman holding a bow, this one made his heart hurt to look at to long and he moves on. The he comes to the third one this one is older then the first two holding a staff in one hand. Last is yet another young man but he is dressed like a lord with a shield on his arm. Harry walks around the figures till he comes back to the first one and stops reaching for the sword. The moment his finger brush the cool metal it was like electricity shot through his whole system, he can't tare his hand away. At last he lifts the blade fully into his own hands and Venomfang claps in glee. " This is outstanding, I can't believe it." He smiles up at Harry then bows deeply ."I'm so glad it is you M'Lord, shall we go back to the office? I have to write the Ministry and sigh over the rest of your inheritance and titles." Harry blinks then nods slowly, what had he fallen into this time?

They arrive back at the office sooner then Harry thought. Sill unsure as to what's going on he waits for Venomfang explain. To Harry's frustration, however, Venomfang sits down and writes two messages to the Ministry of Magic. He can't help feeling nerves at this point, his dad's keep glancing at the sword in his lap and Grimrought is smiling at him in the strangest way. Bill sits behind him with the oddest look on his face making his insides squirm. He just couldn't shake the feeling that his world was about to change yet again.

Bill sits not really knowing what he should do. The dull ache that had been plaguing him since July was now a throbbing pain encircling his head. It started when Harry had first touched the sword giving Bill the strange feeling of deja vu. In that moment the headache roared to life. He puts his face in his hands, Why is it so important to write the letter now? Why not just get on with what every the hell is going on, and for Merlin's why is it that i keep getting deja vu around Harry? It's not like I've known him foe very long really , but he feels like family. There has to be more to it then me seeing him as a little brother. The first time it happened was the day after his birthday and I had come back to a very worried Sirius and very tired Snape. Apparently Harry had become very ill during the night and Remus was dealing with his own Furry problem. I remember sitting there being worried sick when the feeling of deja vu took hold. But i couldn't remember why. Bill sighs and looks at the very nerves you man sitting just in front of him. What ever is going on I hope he's ready. He shakes his head and looks up to see Venomfang sending off the letters.

Venomfang looks at group ginning,"I'm very glad to say that young Lord Black will be the First True Lord Potter in a very long time. AT this point you will inherit the Potter holdings and properties as well as the Peveril holdings and properties. Unfortunately you will not be able to claim the rest of your inheritance till you have turn sixteen and you have full come into your blood inheritance." He passes taking in their shocked expressions. Then continues, " Lastly with your emancipation and the two lord ships you must choose your full name and title. Your magical signature will be recorded. This will also mean any of your vassals or family allies that try to use your name or power with out your approval will not be able to. They will also be arrested for the crimes of usurping and / or treason. I will include a full list of all those in and bound to you houses holds as well as full copies of your accounts." Harry just blinks. What the absolute hell . He couldn't just be normal , for Merlins sake . He just has to add a hole shit tone of new strangeness to the mix. And his latest batch of weird will end up in the papers with in hours not days this sucks... " Is there anything i can do to stop this going public for a little while at least?" He ask no one in particular, so it was a shock when Grimrought answers him. " You are a majority share holder in the Daily Profit, you could simply tell them not to print the story till you come in to you full inheritance. Giving you a year to practice and prepare." He nods gratefully. "Yes i will do that thank you so much." Venomfang clears his throat, "Very well the bank will send the message but to do so We need your magical signature M'Lord " Harry thought for a good long while. Though he Loves the name his parents gave him to many people have made it into something ugly and not his any more. However Looking at the family tree that was among the papers on the table, he decided to join the past and present. " I think I have it. My full title and name will be Lord Haydrian James Potter -Black."

They all sat eating there meal with out a word. The day had been long and there were still many question that hadn't been answered. The goblins refused to give them any more information on the unsealed part of Harry's inheritance every one was a bit on edge . On top of that they still had to go to the Ministry the next day. Harry had the feeling it was all related but wasn't sure how. Once they return to there room they find a letter form D.O.M. asking them if they could bring the sword, Lord Haydrian James Potter-Black received that day, to the meeting. Now Harry knew it was all related. He starts breathing heavy his anxiety rising to a fever pitch. What the bloody was happening,and why did it have to be him? Why was it always him? Why,why, why? Harry begins shaking when his dads rap themselves around him whispering they got him, it will be alright. Bill tells him the will get to the bottom of all this one way or another he just has to be calm. then the four of them go to sleep wounder what else fate might have in store.

Harry sits up slowly with a long stretch and a yawn, he hasn't slept this well in along time. He feels calm, satisfied, and content until he realizes that his pants were clinging to him uncomfortably. Dashing out of bed and into the bathroom Harry peals off his pj's and jumps in the shower. Once clean he drys off rapping a towel around himself. Passing the large dressing mirror Harry freezes then screams for his dads. From behind him came loud crashing and bangs, Bill who fell out of bed was now trying to free himself from the sheets. While Sirius and Remus burst through the door. "Cub what is it, what's wrong?" says the werewolf with a growl. "It broke!" Harry says his voice cracking in panic. The three men turn finally really see him and gasp. The young man before them was not the same one from yesterday nor did he look like he had after his birthday. Remus quickly realizes their mistake, they had assumed Harry's physical changes had slowed down. This was not the case. He was now almost six feet tall and tone his skin the color of a gold dusted tan as he glows softening the shadows in the room. The boy's hair was now well past his shoulders it's color shifting like ravens feathers. His eyes like molten emeralds with a ring of gold around the pupil a thick lace of lashes framing them perfectly. On his chest is a phoenix in sunset hues sleeping peacefully over his heart. The scare on his forehead is a thin ruby red lighting bolt . It's very jarring from his normal look but once you get past the shock he's still Harry.

Bill sits staring at the strong cup of tea he has just been handed. His mind rasing Ashe fights to control his face. So Harry has a creature inheritance. From what Remus said they had no idea when they blood adopted him that this could happen. But that means he will keep changing the glamor is moving to slowly. I will need to suggest a justing it. Merlin and Morgan we don't even know what creature it is. He sighs heavily and takes a sip of tea. He glances at Sirius as he helps recast the glamor charm. Things are changing face and with him taking on his Lordships Dumbledore will have to change how he deals with him. Harry won't let the old man take away his choices any more. What the hell are we going to do when his powers, if he has any, start to manifest. If this had happened the normal way one or two weeks and done. But something like this hasn't happened in so long I'm not really sure what to do. Might ask form an inheritance right be done for him at the Bank. Surprised they didn't do one when we went yesterday. He sighs again and downs the rest of his tea. We have to get ahead of this and soon. But how and who knows what is happening to Harry. If the papers find out about any of this it will be hell. But for know I just need to be calm and strong for Harry's sake. He nods to himself and looks up at the group. It seam Sirius is still working on the charm for Harry while Remus is laying clothes out for him. Bill looks at the boy he has came to see as a little brother and starts to notice thin lines on his back and arms. Most a Jagged and uneven some are much larger then others. As Bill looks at the he realizes they're scars all healed but still there. His eyes darken from his normal calm sky blue to a stormy purple color. Someone has been hurting him, and for a very long time. What the hell is going on here. He looks at the teens smiling face and takes a deep breathe. One thing at a time Bill, one thing at a time. He shakes himself and smiles. " I have a few questions but for now I will ask three. The first is do we know Harry's creature? Second, who all knows? And are we still going to the Ministry?"

Harry couldn't help the smile on his face as they made their way to the visitor's entrance. The ride down more comfortable then the last time since Sirius couldn't come with them. He thought everything would be alright, Bill hadn't freaked out just assessed the situation and moved on. He was so grateful he almost cried. Now they are making there way down to the D.O.M. and his nerves where starting to creep back in. They reach their floor with out trouble and head straight to the Department of Mystery's door. He should have known things had been going to well. Standing next to the door is none other then Percy Weaselly. Bill stops short placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. The teen stops well out the younger Weaselly's reach as Remus walks up to him. " What Brings you all the way down here Mr. Weaselly. Surely you have better things to do then standing around." Percy glares at the older man then brushes the nonexistent dust from his close and pulling himself up to his full height, though still not at tall as Bill. " I'm here to make sure Potter isn't wasting valuable Ministry time and to insure he doesn't brake any more laws while here." He squares his shoulders with his nose in the air giving of an air of self-importance thought would choke a horse. Bill's scowls deepens as he moves Harry behind him. Percy raises an eyebrow at that, then gives a short harsh laugh. " Scared I'm going to hurt your precious Potter, William? Bill takes a breathe then smiles calmly at his brother. " Lord." Percy blinks, "what?" Bill just keeps smiling," Lord Potter or to be precise Lord Hardin James Potter-Black. Though I assumed you already new that since you work for Fudge. But the young Lord does have an appointment so if you don't mind." Percy is rooted to the spot as Harry and company move past him and into the department beyond, the younger Weaselly, now glaring at them as the door closes on him. The large circular room had many doors leading to who knows where and a desk in the middle. Next to said desk is a young Unspeakable in midnight blue robes and his silver beige on his chest. His hair is short and neat and his eye are the color of rich chocolate. Harry can't help but notes the uniform shows off his broad shoulders and trim waist. Shaking the thoughts away he moves forward to greet the man. " Hello there, I'm Harry Potter I'm here by request. I'm not sure who i'm supposed to meet or where I'm supposed to go. Do you think you could help me?" The young man smiles at him nodding, "Oh yes. I'm Unspeakable 41, sorry not aloud to give out our names, I've been waiting for you Mr. Potter. Or would you prefer Lord Potter for official business." Remus clears his throat giving Harry a small nod then looks at their guide. " Lord Potter-Black for official business would be best I think. But thank you for asking me I'm grateful. The two men with me will also be joining us. Remus Lupine is my adopted Father and William,Bill, Weaselly is my witness." Number 41 nods taking down there names and handing out passes for them. "This all seams inn order . Now then Lord Potter-Black if you will fallow me." The small group walks across the room then four doors to the left . Inside is a large tank filled with murky water, Harry is sure something is swimming in it but is given no time to check. The next room is filled with cubicles each, as far as he could see, with a bed and chair in it. Number 41 leads them through quickly and quietly. They reach another door with strange ruins above it and are ushered inside. This room is huge with thousands upon thousands of shelves covered in small crystal orbs filled with white fog. To harry's surprise they stop first at a row marked with a bronze number 14, On the 4th shelf from the top 5th from the end Harry is told to pick up the orb sitting there. He does as he is asked picks up the crystal with no issues and holds it out to the Unspeakable. 41 smiles brightly and pots the orb in a small bag then walks on. They next stop at row 97 sitting on the 7th shelf from the top 3rd from the end was another crystal ball Harry was asked to pick up. Once it was retrieved the walk all the way to the back of the hug room and into a small office with a silver 41 on its door. The young Unspeakable pulls out a small velvet pillow and place the crystal spheres upon it. " Know I'm sure you are aware of what these are Lord Potter-Black." When the young man in front of him shook his head no, 41 looks shocked. "These are prophecies young Lord. One of the many jobs in this part of the D.O.M the guarding of prophecies. It is one of the few parts of the D.O.M that is public knowledge." Harry looks down embarrassed that once again his lack of knowledge is waved in his face. He hears 41 sigh so he looks up. "It's not your fault Lord Potter- Back, I had no idea you hadn't received any of our post about this. At the very least your gardens or the Headmaster should have told you about this." He looks at Remus when he says this. Harry steps in saying that up until this summer he was taken care of by muggle relatives. They kept him in the dark about the magical world intentionally, and that he is not sure why the Headmaster didn't say anything. This seams to calm the Unspeakable down and they move on. If you will place your hand on this orb please Lord Potter-Black we can begin. He puts his right hand on the cold Crystal and it begins to warm immediately, the voice of Sybill Trelawney echoing through out the room, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies." The room was quite as Trelawney's voice dies away. Remus looks incense while Bill mirrors him, for Harry's part he's confused, hurt and angry. 41 hadn't noticed the change and put the orb back in the little bag saying, " Now if you will put your hand on the next one." Harry's hand moves of it own accord to sit on the second sphere and a voice he didn't know rings through the room like bells, "Before the 400th desendent sees his final Zeneth Sun the kingsword, locked in it's tomv of granite, boys hands shall be grasped it, but a king raise it high, and his court shall follow wherever he may leading. To make hole our world once more." The room is now deadly quite as he gapes at the cooling crystal in his hand. 41 clears his throat making Harry jump. " Lord Potter I need to put the prophecy in its bag." The boy blinks and takes his hand away, still trying to understand what the hell is going on. Everything else blurs together as he signs papers and heads out.

Harry comes out of his thoughts when he hears Sirius calling his name. Looking up he finally sees they are in a muggle restaurant and the waiter is waiting for his drink order. He blushes and ask for a soda. The waiter smiles brightly and heads back to get their drinks. Apparently Remus had filled Sirius in on what happened while he was lost in thought. They ate hamburgers and chips then went shopping to fill out the wholes in Harry's wardrobe and a few other odds and ends. Once home he walks quietly to one of the many spare rooms and screams. His frustration and rage echo through the house as his magic shakes the hole building. Tears stream down his face as glass cracks and brakes. His screams devolve in to hysterical sobbing as his dads come in the room. Harry sits on the floor sobbing in the wind of his own magic, Remus and Sirius trying to get his attention. He opens his tear filled eyes to see a strange glow emanating from him. He looks at the only parents he has ever know his magic calming as he sobs "Why can't I just be like everyone one else? What's even happening to me? Why does this shit keep happening to me?" They finally reach him and hug the boy tightly. "We don't know Harry but we will help you through this no matter what." Remus says softly. "You are so much stronger then you know pup most would brake from what you've been through. But we're here for you to lean on when you need to." Sirius whispers into his hair. They had no idea how much time had past but they eventually broke out of the family hug at Kreature's small knock came from the doorway. "Masters there is something happening down stairs, Please Hurry."

Mean while down in the kitchen Molly Weaselly is having a heated argument with her eldest son for the first time in years. "Leave it mum, Harry will be fine. His dads are with him." Bill shouted at his mother. Who, at this moment, was trying to get past him to stick her nose in an already shit situation. His head was throbbing and his magic had starting to pulse in time with it. His mother continues shouting saying that about how she wants to help till he snaps. " Mum, just stop it's bad enough with out every one getting involved in this mess so please." Bill clutches his head as his vision begins to swim. Then suddenly and with out any outward warning he collapses to the floor.

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bluepenguinstories · 5 years ago

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Forty-Nine

Mornings. Waking up. How long since I last got to experience such a thing? It felt like an eternity. Moving from place to place, I must have denied myself a life several times over.

Yet there I was, picking myself up off the floor which I had fallen asleep on.

Close by, a tapping sound was made. My attention turned to the sound; a knock on the door.

“Verse, breakfast time!” Trent's voice came in.

What was I doing here? Had I unconsciously made my way back home? But why? My journey wasn't done yet.

The memories of the day before came back to me all at once, like a migraine. I think I actually did have a migraine. Fuck.

I clutched the side of my head.

“I'm not hungry!”

“Can I come in?”

“No, I,” My body had trouble keeping its balance as I got myself up. I had to hold onto the wall for just a bit as I made my way to the door. “I'll be right there.”

Great. Both a rush of blood to the head AND a migraine.

I deserve this, don't I?

I opened the door and faced Trent, who looked both surprised and concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” I groaned. “I just woke up. I'm fine.”

My stomach growled. I looked down.

“Oh, shut up, you!”

Ow. I felt sharp pains when I bent down to scold my stomach.

“Are you sure you're not hungry?”

When was the last time I ate? I couldn't remember that, either. Days didn't really seem to go on as I never really stayed in one place too long.

“I just don't want to eat,” I admitted.

“You didn't eat dinner, either.”

“I'm fine, I just...hsss,” the pain in my head increased and my grip tightened. “I have a migraine.”

“Here, I'll get you something. But you need to come out and eat. If you're going to stay the night here, the least you can do is share a breakfast with the rest of us.”

“All right,” I relented. I pressed my head against the wall and looked down. From my peripheral, I watched him close the door. “Thank you...”

What's gotten into me? I'm actually accepting help. Am I in such a weak, miserable state that I'm depending on others?

I adjusted my glasses and made my way out. That was another thing. I knew better than to sleep with my glasses on. They could have broke, not to mention how uncomfortable that was! Hm...maybe that was the cause of my migraine.

“What's gotten into me?” I muttered.

Outside the thing that was less a room and more a walk-in closet, I inched my way out, making feeble movements, and shambled to the kitchen.

Everyone else was already there, sitting down and eating. There was a smell of something cooked. Eggs and bacon? No thanks. Trent walked over with a cup of water. I held out my hands and he emptied his fist and handed me the glass.

“Take this,” he instructed.

“Thank you...”

“Guuuurl, you do not look okay!” Velvet called to me.

I looked over in her direction.

“Whoa, I'm just sayin'!”

I didn't even say anything? Was it the way I looked? My face?

There was an empty seat at the end of the table. I took to it and stared down at the tablecloth. I wanted to just rest my head against the table and not face anyone, but I knew I wouldn't be allowed that. Rather, I did what I could.

“Um...I don't eat meat,” I let Trent know. My words still came out weak.

“Oh, good to know. So no bacon, got it. What about eggs?”

“Eggs are fine.”

“French toast?”

“Yes, but look in the fridge. There should be a thing of almond milk in there. Use that.”

Let's see if I can still use my power when I have a headache...

“Oh, I see it! Okay, I'll make you some french toast with almond milk in the mix!”

Whew. The taste of almond milk always did make me happier than the taste of cow's milk. It was such a shame this world was dying out, I felt like with a clear head, the possibilities as to what I could conjure up would have been limitless.

Some time passed, the headache as well, and without a second thought, a plate was set next to me. Everyone else already started digging in. Trent sat close to Blanc, who rather than eating any kind of normal breakfast, was eating gummy fruit snacks. Velvet and her girlfriend (I presume) sat next to each other, as well, at the other end of the table. The last variable, she was at the far end, positioned so that even if we held the most distance from each other, she could stare me down if she so chose. That was something I wished to avoid.

I dug into the plate. Ah, I hate to take slow bites, but the warmth, the fluffiness...

“I see you're as generous as always, Trent,” I smiled, looking down at my plate, and reminisced.

“I guess, but what do you mean 'as always?' I thought we just met yesterday.”

Oh. Shit. Right.

“Did you meet me in another timeline?” He asked. I gulped. I wasn't sure if he actually believed what I had said, even if it was all true, but that wasn't the question I wished he would ask.

“No, most of you here I only met yesterday. Sorry, I think I'm confused. Maybe I'm still feeling a little unwell.”

“Well, hope you get better, it seems like everyone's counting on you.”

Blanc held out their bag of fruit gummies. “Maybe if you had a fruit snack, you'd feel better?” They suggested.

“No thank you,” I waved my hand away. “Gummy candies are made with gelatin in them, which is a pig fat. Most yogurts also contain gelatin.”

“Oh, that's cool! Didn't know pigs could be so awesome!”

“You must be really smart!” Juniper remarked.

“No, I just have values that I like to stick to.”

“Ooh, and what might those values be?” Blanc egged me on. Heh, eggs.

Am I feeling OK? Just a little loopy?

“I don't think I could name them,” I shrugged. “They're just there.”

“Oh yeah, huh! Just like some of the ingredients on the back of food boxes!”

“Heh, you're a silly one, aren't you?” I smiled. It felt genuine.

“Whoa, you made a literal 180 overnight! Where's the awkward-but-mean version we met yesterday?” Velvet asked.

“Oh, this is how I prefer to be,” I gave a chuckle. “It had just been days since I've allowed myself to eat anything, is all.”

The room felt silent. They all stared at me.

“You were starving yourself?!” Velvet gasped. Great. There goes the sweet time I was having.

“What? It's not a big deal. I can still take care of myself.”

I wanted to slam my head into the table. Why couldn't I just enjoy a normal time without me opening the mouth and killing the mood? Next thing I knew, the worst thing happened: Juniper, looking right at me, looking concerned.

“But Verse,” she asked. “What would your wife think if she knew you did that?”

“Are you doing this just to torment me?” I grumbled, staring down at the table, and not at her.

“No? What do you mean? I just don't think it's a good idea to do that to yourself. People care about you, you know...”

The fork hit the plate. The plate was empty. I got up out of my seat and took my dishes to the sink.

“Thank you for the meal,” I muttered, my tone coming out more dry than I meant it to. As I walked out of the living room, then to the guest room, I heard someone get up after me. Whoever it was should have known to tread with caution. By the time whoever it was approached, I already had my shoes on. I turned around to see Blanc.

“Headed out?”

“I just need some fresh air,” I explained.

“You're not planning to bail, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, not yet. I'm giving this a chance. It's just hard.”

“It's not her fault. She doesn't know. If you want, I could clue her in.”

“Why must you toy with a maiden's heart?”

“You? A maiden? Ha!”

I glared.

“I didn't choose my friends, I'm just happy to have them around,” they grinned as they gave their justification.

“Tell them we can make arrangements for tomorrow when I get back,” I instructed them.

Maybe they didn't use some cosmic power to make me encounter Trent and Juniper, but it still felt like a trick. I pushed past them and made my way out the door.

Well, that was fine! She just woke up and had a headache, of course she'd be a little moody! As for me, I was peachy keen, although, was I ever not? Hmm...moving on! I went back to the table and let them know the deets.

“Hello friends, I am back,” I greeted, then sat back in my seat and grabbed some gummy worms. Guess they were gummy worms and a little bit of pig. Who knew?

“Is she gonna be okay?” Juniper asked me.

“Oh yeah, totes,” I replied, mouth full of gummy worm. “Just had to blow off steam. You know what they say, Pompeii wasn't unbuilt in a day!”

“I've never heard that expression before,” Velvet remarked.

Birch, no, Corey...Andy...Coriander! Coriander had her arms crossed and scowled. There was a little bit of steam coming out of her, too, I could tell. In fact, I could sense a rant about to happen in three...two...one...

“We were having a good breakfast, weren't we? I know I was! I was having a mighty fine breakfast. Argh. Then this happened, and it's just, like, y'know? It's just like that! I want some more bacon!”

Trent shrugged. “Help yourself.”

“I will!” She roared. I watched as she got up, grabbed a handful of bacon off the skillet, shove it all into her mouth, then sat back down.

“Alright, so as I was saying,” she continued her rant, barely coherent. “Screw her, am I right?”

Oh hey, that was short! I thought she'd have an actual rant to go off on!

“No, I think she's going through a rough time and we need to be there for her,” Juniper suggested.

“That's real nice of you, but you shouldn't try to help someone who doesn't want help,” Velvet replied.

“She can help herself by screwing off,” Coriander continued. Oh, there it was. “Why'd she have to have such an attitude for? As if that's any way to act as a guest!”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Velvet groaned.

“Yeah, okay, but then she tries to act all sweet as if anyone's really going to fall for it! Plus, even when she's acting all nice, she gives out orders. Like how she wanted you to use milk fresh squeezed from almond titties! She shouldn't just boss people around like that. By the way, Trent, you should make some more bacon, I just ate it all.”

“Uh-huh...”

“I don't think it's an act,” Juniper suggested. “I think she's trying because she that's how she'd like to be.”

“Velvet, you don't like waking up in the morning and that's a fact!” Nope. Coriander still wasn't done. “Yet what did we all do? We woke up in the morning, sat for breakfast, and even made sure she came along. So what does she do? Storm off.”

“She just needed a breather,” I reminded them. “She doesn't mean any harm, and she'll probably come back and apologize. I'm sure she'll even try to make it up to everyone, somehow!”

“Are you sure?” Juniper asked.

“Not really, but I know her pretty well! She told me to tell you guys that when she gets back, we can all make preparations for tomorrow!”

“Hmph, and what if she doesn't show back up?” Coriander pressed. “What then?”

I shrugged. “Guess since the cat's out of the bag, I can still get you guys there.”

“Maybe you should do that,” Juniper suggested. “So that she can get back to her own place. It doesn't seem like she's enjoying it here and if we lift that burden off for her, maybe she'd be happier.”

Coriander growled; Velvet gave her a few shoulder pats and she calmed down.

“You can try, but don't be surprised if she's not too keen on the idea. She can be even more stubborn than you are, Velvet.”

“Hey!” Velvet took offense to that. Oops.

I yawned. “Well, you guys do what you want. It's not even close to noon yet, so I'm probably just going to take a nap on the couch until something interesting happens.”

Yes, by the way, I actually did sleep. Just fine, in fact. Yeah, who would've thought?

Out by the lake on the docks stood a guardrail which I leaned against. The breeze against my back brushed past my sides and blew my hair forward. I remained still.

After I procured a match and struck it, I placed the lit stick between my lips; it didn't taste very good. Not a moment after, I placed the burnt match between my two fingers and with my other hand, I tried to snuff the flame out by squishing it between my fingers, but instead, felt the burn, and with a jolt, tossed the match away.

“This doesn't spark joy,” I grit my teeth, and just like that, the burn was no longer felt. Likewise, the burn marks on the tips of my fingers disappeared.

“Looks like what worked for you doesn't work for me,” again, reminiscing. Over what, it didn't even feel worth mentioning. No, not that I thought I could mimic her in order to understand her. It wasn't even that I was seeking to understand her, just that I was lost.

“What would you have done in such a situation?” Those words already got swept up and thrown into the water. As to be expected. There wasn't an answer, unless I felt like conjuring up a ghost.

Ah, now there's an idea...

I shook my head. Not even that would have done me any good. I made my way back. As lost as I was, I just had to go back and do my best.

“No, it wouldn't have mattered if I knew what you would do. I'm not you.”

The thought was almost worth a laugh: the idea of asking advice from someone who couldn't answer, someone who no longer existed, and who when alive I considered an enemy. Alas, I held the laugh in and headed back toward the house.

“Now that that's out of my system, time to go back and apologize to everyone about breakfast. There are more important issues at hand than my personal bullshit.”

Yes. That was the right mindset to have.

As I crept back inside, that was the mindset I clung to. After closing the door, slow and quiet as to not reveal my presence right away, I crouched down to slip off my shoes.

“Verse! I'm so glad you're okay!” The familiar voice greeted me from the distance. I looked over, to see Juniper.

“You are?”

“Yeah! I was so worried when you left!”

I looked away. “I'm sorry to worry you. There's just been a lot on my mind and I've been under a lot of stress, that's all.”

“I don't blame you, what with the state the world's in. Plus, you're not even from here, so it probably comes as a shock to you!”

Hm...yeah. Maybe in a sense. Out of all he atrocities I could have predicted, the destruction of Earth due to the same thing Blanc was more or less merged with was not one of them.

“That is true, but I agreed to help, so that's what I'm going to do.” Even if I do still find such a thing a hopeless endeavor.

“Maybe you don't need to, though!”

Glad to see someone agrees with me after what I told Blanc last night. Still, I'm giving everyone a chance, just like they suggested, so what else was I supposed to do?

“What?”

“You should go to her, you're clearly not happy here. Plus it's probably better than spending time with someone like me.”

“ARE YOU FOR REAL?!” I snapped.

“What? I'm just saying, it would probably be better for you if--”

“I can't believe you!”

I rose to my feet and I could feel myself shaking.

“How many times have I told you? I don't want to talk about it! But it's always the same with you, isn't it? 'Wife this, wife that'! Just...shut up!”

She took a step back. “Was...was it something I said?”

“It's everything you said! Eve since I came here, you've been a thorn in my side, and I'm sick of it! For the duration that I'm here, I don't want to hear the word 'wife' come out of your mouth! I don't even want to think of the words 'Juniper' and 'wife' in the same thought! You got that?”

“Ye...yes!” Her voice came out a whimper as she pursed her lips and I watched tears stream down her face. As I stood there, she went and covered her face as she walked away and went right into the guest room next to the stairs.

“This is my fault, isn't it?” I spoke, my voice low. No one else was in the living room, save for Blanc, who looked asleep. I had my doubts, but I wasn't about to test them. I now had bigger concerns.

I never meant for this to happen. I just let my emotions get the better of me and because of me, I made her cry.

As I walked toward the door to the room where I had slept in, I approached with hesitance. Yes, how familiar. In this scenario as well, I didn't want to face her, not like that. But it was already too late, and I felt the need to try what I could.

It's useless. She already hates you and you can't take back anything you said.

I let out a deep breath and gave a light tap on the door, then opened the door.

“Hey...” My voice croaked, barely a whisper.

There she was, sitting in one of the chairs in the room, and sobbing into her hands.

“I know I don't really have any right to be in here after what I said, but I'm really sorry.”

“But you're right,” she sniffed. “You told me it was a sensitive subject and I just kept bringing it up anyway,” she sniffed again. “I just have trouble with social cues sometimes.”

“No, no, you did nothing wrong. It was all me.”

She looked up, her face was red and there were still tears coming down.

I remember wishing that if I could get Juniper to break down, she'd see that I was no good and hate me. But now I made her break down and all it feels is horrible.

“Here,” I handed her a tissue.

“Thanks,” she croaked, then blew her nose.

“Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was make you cry.”

She wiped her face. “You had every right to get mad, you said it was something that hurt you and I kept pressing it.”

I shook my head. “But I'm not hurt right now. Look, I'm fine!” I grabbed my cheeks and pulled them up so it looked like I was grinning. “See?”

“You shouldn't lie, you know.”

“Yes, you're right. But I'm only lying because I want to make you feel better.”

“You shouldn't pretend to be fine for my sake, either.”

I sighed. “You're right. But again, you did nothing wrong. I had no right to say those things to you and just because I've got my own problems doesn't mean I should have taken them out on you.”

“It's not that I meant to be hurtful. I wanted to help you.”

Right. I should have picked up on that.

“I know and I appreciate it. Don't think that I don't. I'm just not good at accepting help.”

“I do care about you, you know...”

Whatever her reason for saying that, I looked away. “Why? I'm a stranger.”

“You care about me and I'm a stranger.”

“No, you got it wrong, I...I'm just trying to be a better person.”

“I think you're already pretty good.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like how confident you seem, for starters. I could only wish to be as confident as you are.”

I chuckled at that. “You think I'm confident? It's all an act.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. Deep down I'm just a big scaredypuss.”

“You? But you act like you got it all together and you say whatever's on your mind.”

“That couldn't be further from the truth, either. Some things I shouldn't say out loud, and other things might have turned out better had I said what was really on my mind.”

“Well, if it's that, I could tell you were going through a hard time. You could say you're fine, but would a fine person starve herself?”

“No, I guess not. It wasn't even a conscious thing, to be honest. I've just been very neglectful with my life as of late.”

“It's easy to do, isn't it? Get wrapped up in other things, forget that you have a body.”

“Heh...I guess that's one way to put it.”

“You know, I think it's really sweet, actually, that you have a wi...sorry.”

“No, go ahead. Say it as many times as you want.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. Truth be told, it still felt a little uncomfortable.

“Okay, here goes: wife, wife, wife, wife.”

I laughed a little at that. It seemed funny in a cute way, how she said it.

“See? I'm not mad.”

Tears continued to stream down, even as she smiled. It seemed it was time to try a different tactic...

“You know what I do sometimes when I need to calm down?” I asked her.

She shook her head.

“I like to find an empty room, or somewhere where I think no one will hear me, I'll clench my fists, then yell whatever's bothering me, then unclench and let out a deep breath.”

“Does that work?” She asked.

Beats me. I've never tried it. I just made that up just now.

“Sometimes,” I replied. “Wanna try it?”

“Sure.”

She closed her eyes, clenched her fists, and a few seconds later, she yelled:

“I WANT SOMEONE TO TOP ME!”

...What was that?

After, she let out a deep breath and smiled.

“You're right! I feel much better.”

“The heck? I mean, uh, that's not quite what I meant, but okay!”

“Well, it's just like how Velvet has Coriander, and I'm like 'aww' but also 'damn I wish I had something like that', y'know?”

“Not...really?”

“Aren't those two just the cutest, by the way? I always like seeing cute couples.”

“Those two? Really? They're dysfunctional!” Okay, she was beginning to baffle me again.

“Yeah, but they make it look so cute!”

“I guess?” I thew out my hands in confusion.

At least it was a nice change of pace to be talking about something not centered on me.

“Is it okay if I say something else that's bothering me?” She asked with her warm smile I knew too well.

“Well, usually I would advise limiting it to one issue. If you start listing out everything that's bothering you, while it seems like a good idea, you could end up working yourself into a breakdown, which would be counterproductive when the goal is to calm yourself down.”

“So is that a no?”

“I will allow it. Although a risk is present in this method, said risk is not a guarantee. If it starts to look like you're getting worked up, I will be there to walk you through it and help you calm back down.

“Okay,” she drew in a breath. “Here goes.” Her cheeks were puffed up, which I had to hold back a laugh from the image.

“I DON'T LIKE BEING TREATED LIKE A LITTLE KID!”

After, she let out a deep breath, but this time, there were more, shorter, breaths that followed. If the previous statement she yelled caught me off guard, I was especially taken aback by that one.

“People are like, 'that Juniper, she's so adorable' when I don't know something, but that doesn't mean I'm not an adult and I want to be treated like a baby! I hear stuff like 'aw, she's so cute', but if it's just because people think I'm childish, then I don't like it. Yeah, it's nice being fawned over, but, but, but--”

“Deep breaths. Remember, deep breaths. It's hard to tackle more than one thought at a time.”

Thankfully, she listened to me. With a slow, deep inhale, then exhale in equal measure, she regained composure.

“...Do you really think people treat you that way?” I found myself asking.

“I-I don't know. It just feels that way sometimes. It's okay in small doses, but sometimes I just start to wonder if that's all they see in me.”

“That's not why I love with you,” I let slip.

“What was that?”

“What I mean is, if I should have been treating you like you aren't an adult, it never crossed my mind to. Yes, I've been really harsh, but I've still viewed you as an equal. What I like, and what I find sweet about you, is your kindness and willingness to help others. I can't say for sure what others think of you, but I think what people end up drawn toward is your sunny disposition. There's nothing wrong with being cute or liking cute things and you can still be an adult while doing so.”

“You think so?”

I nodded.

“You're kind, too, you know that?”

“No, I--” I stopped myself before I could finish that thought. “Thank you.”

“Your wife must be really lucky to have you.”

Really, it was the other way around.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think she and I would be friends?”

“I think so.” That wasn't really a thought I wanted to entertain, but oh well.

“I wish I could meet her.”

“Yeah, she'd probably like that.”

Except that could never happen without one of you two dying.

She tilted her head to the side and smiled. Rather than look away like I had done so before, I found myself staring back and smiling as well. We must have sat like this in silence until she broke it, herself.

“Oh! I just thought of something!” With that, the spell was broken, and I jolted.

“Oh?”

She got up and ran out of the room. I continued to sit in place.

What was I doing?

I looked around. Not that it didn't catch my attention yesterday, but it really was such a small space, and with two chairs just coincidentally occupying it just lessened the space so much more. With that in mind, how did I manage to get to sleep at all last night?

The real question is: what am I doing? Focusing on the layout of the room at a time like this?

That too must have been a spell, as I broke from that trance as well once the door opened back up, with Juniper coming into frame. She leaned forward, her hands behind her back, and smiled bright. It filled me with the fear that I may start to turn red with how close she was. Any closer and I would have sworn that her breath would have met my own.

“Okay, hold out your hand!” She instructed, although it sounded more like a cheer than an order, like something out of a pep rally.

I closed my eyes, as my mind was already going several places as to what that might entail. Just as she ordered, I held out my left hand. I felt her place something through and brush against my wrist. When I opened my eyes, she was standing up with one hand on her hip.

“Well, what do you think?”

The thing in question was a bead bracelet with letters between each bead. “B-E,” a heart shaped bead, then the next four letters, “K-I-N-D”.

“Be kind,” I read aloud. “Good reminder.”

“I know, right? But not just to others! It's a reminder to be kind to yourself!”

“Thank you. I'll treasure it.”

“Yeah, you better! That bracelet would've cost you a couple bucks on my Etsy!”

“What-see?”

“It's an online place where you can sell crafts you make!”

“I see,” I suppose that was as fitting to how I knew her than anything else. Really, the differences between the Juniper I knew and this one seemed minimal.

“C'mon, let's get up. I'm sure everyone else would love to see your smile!” She held out her hand.

“Sure, if I haven't pissed everyone off...”

“Hey! Look at the bracelet again!”

I gave a little chuckle at that. “Okay, you got me.” I took her hand, and together, we left the room.

As soon as we exited the room, we were surrounded by the others. Velvet and spice girl right outside the kitchen, Trent and Blanc both seated at one of the couches.

“Whoa! Talk about sudden development! You two are holding hands now?!” Velvet reeled back, in shock, though her expressions seemed more comical than genuine.

“Wha...AAA,” I didn't even realize that was the case, and as soon as Velvet said something, I let go.

“I swear, it's not what you think!” I scrambled to cover my image.

“We were worried about her,” Velvet explained. “When I heard her shout how she wanted to be topped, I was gonna run to her aid, but then decided to give you two privacy.”

Coriander glared and elbowed Velvet in the stomach. I heard a squeaky “ow” emit from the so-called 'badass'.

“Um...let's move on to serious business, shall we? We were gonna talk strategy, right?”

“Ohhhh, that's right! Fleshlight stuff!”

“Flashbulb,” I corrected.

“That was a test and you passed.”

I groaned. Who was I kidding? Change would never be absolute. Being surrounded by dorks was just not my ideal environment.

“Hey Ves,” Blanc turned to me. “Er, Verse. If I may make a suggestion, I think you should sit in that chair rather than the couch. Velvet, you're okay sitting where you were yesterday, at the other end of the couch. Coriander, that other chair next to Velvet? Perf.”

“Why?” I stood confused.

Blanc sat up and shrugged. “Eh? Feng Shui.”

“Sure, I'll take your suggestion. I think I prefer the chair, anyway.”

“As for me, it's a great metaphor: So close to my beloved that we could reach out to each other, but there's the end of the couch and the end of the chair signifying us as star-crossed,” Velvet concurred. If she was trying to wax poetic, it only came off as corny.

“You're smelly and gross and I would never be your Romeo,” Coriander spat back at Velvet.

Well, in any case, once we all took to our seats, I began the meeting.

“Now, let's get started: tomorrow, we will all--”

My statement got cut out. In its place was a cloud of smoke as the wall behind the couch tore open and the couch itself broke in two.

“MY HOUSE!” Trent called out.

I covered my face with my arm, but I couldn't tell how the others were. My heart started to race once more.

Have we been attacked? So soon?

“WHAT UP, ASSHOLES? IT'S ME, YA BOI!” Yelled out a voice through the darkness. I watched as the smoke cleared and the figure of someone in an odd suit of armor appeared.

Is this someone The Flashbulb sent to kill us all?

“Kelly Roger?” Velvet replied to the armored figure. “Is that you?”

“Hell yeah! Finally someone I recognize!” The figure took off their helmet and some curly haired redhead was now in view. I watched as who I assumed to be this 'Kelly Roger' person walked over to Velvet and held up a hand. Velvet high-fived the stranger.

“What are you doing here? I thought you died,” Velvet asked.

“Okay, you guys won't believe this, but here goes: I'm, like, from another dimension!”

Nobody replied to that.

Who does this make now? Three?

“What? Why do none of you look surprised? I'm, like, the tighest shit y'all ever shat!”

“Well, I thought it was a neat twist,” Velvet replied.

“Right on! At least one of you gets it!” Kelly Roger held up a hand again. Velvet shrugged, then high-fived again.

“So, what brought you here?”

“Okay, so lemme go ahead and tell my tragic backstory. Y'all ready?”

Nobody gave a response.

“I got mixed in with some bad folks and I lost access to my body pillows and figurines! It was tragic as FUCK!”

“Oof, that does sound rough,” Velvet replied.

“Oh yeah, not only that! But then I met a girl and it was like love at first sight!”

“Good for you, proud of you, KR.”

“Yeah, but then some shit happened and I left her behind.”

“I know how that is, buddy,” Velvet gave Kelly Roger a pat on the shoulder.

“WHAT?!” I cried out.

“Yeah, it was real sad 'n shit,” Kelly Roger added. “Like, some Lifetime movie BS.”

“Wow, I never thought I'd hear someone go through something similar as me.”

“HELLOOOO? I HAVE? I'M RIGHT HERE!” I waved my hands around, pointed to myself, the whole deal. Those two continued to ignore me, though.

“Yeah, well, anyway, she wasn't even into me, plus she was kind of a loser. So no big loss,” they added.

“Oh,” Velvet sounded just a tad surprised by that. “Well, good for you, then?”

“This is ridiculous!” I crossed my arms.

“That's the saddest story I've ever heard,” Juniper wiped her eyes as if she were weeping.

“YOU TOO?!”

“Anyway, I picked up this cool suit that allows me to warp through dimensions so now I'm just warping around between different versions of Earth until I find one where I save the day and I'm a hero!”

“Listen to me, young man,” I addressed the armored figure. “You can't just keep going around to different universes willy-nilly! There are consequences.”

Kelly Roger turned to me. “Y'know, just for that, I'm gonna be a girl today.”

I applied my palm to my face, as if everything I said was just a joke to this person.

“This is serious! Every time you go to a different universe, the version of you that belonged to that universe dies!”

“Oh, yeah. I already knew that. That's part of why I'm doing this.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, after a few universes of not coming out on top, I started to realize the one thing that kept standing in my way: me. So now I'm going around to every universe to make sure I die, that way I'm more free to defeat the likes of Marco and Etna.”

“Are you serious?! You're just going to genocide yourself?!”

“THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!” Kelly Roger roared.

“Ah, a Highlander reference,” Trent acknowledged.

“Shut up, old man,” Kelly Roger pointed. “I don't know what the fuck that is and I don't give a shit.”

“Fair enough,” Trent shrugged.

“Am I the only sane person here?!” I looked around and cried out.

“Nah, bruh. That would be me,” Kelly Roger replied. In fact, they were the ONLY one who replied.

“Oh, COME ON! This is ridiculous! Blanc, back me up here!”

“Mm...this is some good popcorn,” Blanc tossed handfuls of popcorn into their mouth from a bowl that wasn't there just a minute ago.

This is so unfair, Blanc! Leaving me to fend for myself amongst this nonsense!

“Hey, now that I think of it, you look kinda like Etna,” Kelly Roger turned back to me. “Took me a few universes, but I finally got her name and learned that it is indeed, not Kizuna AI's distant cousin.

“I am and I will kill you,” I growled.

“Cool. On that note, I should probably skidaddle.”

“Conrad wanted me to tell you something,” Blanc called to Kelly Roger before the armored idiot could leave.

“Eh? That loser? Well, spit it out.”

“Yeah, Conrad said he was very proud of you and there wasn't anyone quite as good as you at what you do!”

“Really? He said that?”

“Mhm!”

“Heh. I thought you were a lame-o because you were Conrad's androgynous lover.”

“Close enough!”

“But eh, you're not so bad.”

“Aww, you mean that?”

“I don't have to mean anything. God, you're such a loser,” Kelly Roger's face turned to that of disgust.

“Heh, fair enough!”

“Blanc?! Are you just going to take that?!” I cried out.

“Why not? It's true, isn't it?” Blanc shrugged.

“Anyway, I'm off to go kill myself!” Kelly Roger turned away and waved bye.

“Have fun!” Both Blanc and Velvet called out.

Have fun?! What kind of response is that?!

...with that, the being known as 'Kelly Roger' vanished. The damage, of course, was already done. The wall was destroyed, the couch was torn in two, and I was about to rip all my hair out in frustration.

“Okay, Verse, what were you gonna say about the plan for tomorrow?” Velvet asked.

“Really?!” I threw my hands up. “We're all just gonna brush aside what just happened?!”

Velvet shrugged. “I mean, sure. Didn't seem all that plot relevant.”

“Yeah, and besides, at this point, we're kinda used to random shit like that,” Coriander added.

“You were saying about tomorrow?”

“No,” I got up. “I can't do this right now. I'm at wit's end! This is all just too much for me! I need a chill pill!”

“Valid.”

I was about to head into the kitchen to grab a cup of water when I passed Blanc, who started saying in a sing-song voice, “sure is fun to be a loser.”

“Hey!” I faced Blanc. “Don't say that about yourself!”

They turned to me, smiling wide, because of course. “Why not?”

“You don't actually think that about yourself, do you?”

“Maaaaaybeeee.”

“You listen here, as your personal therapist, I will not have you calling yourself a loser. You got that?”

They started to laugh. “Sure, if it pleases you!”

“You are not a loser!” I barked. “You got that?”

“Why's it matter so much to you, anyway?”

“You gave me a chance when I probably didn't even deserve one, so I won't stand here and listen to you self-deprecate!”

“You're funny. You just did what you told me not to do in the same sentence!”

“Grr...I want you to say one positive thing about yourself! I won't leave until you do!”

“I don't see what's so bad about being a loser, I mean, I've had my share of losses, right?”

“You've accomplished plenty and you know it! Now one thing!”

“Okay! I've made friends!”

“That's good, but that's not something about you.”

“Sure it is! I mean, there's people who I've made friends with who don't even like making friends and yet they still ended up considering me their friend! That's gotta be worth something.”

“Heh. I see,” I closed my eyes and smiled. “I'll accept that.”

“Wait just a second. Personal therapist? Really? Some therapist you are! You didn't help me with jack shit when I talked with you yesterday!” Coriander butted in.

I sighed. “Yes, well, I've been out of practice and dealing with my own things. Even therapists have problems.”

“Mm, yeah! She's really good, actually! She helped me!” Juniper jumped to my defense.

Aw, thanks not-hun.

“All right, you're off the hook now,” Coriander warned.

When was I ever ON the hook?

“I have an idea! Since you're kinda burnt out and I'm a bit of a procrastinator anyway, how about we just figure out a plan as soon as we're about to leave tomorrow?” Velvet proposed.

“That's stupid,” I groaned.

“Come on, I thought I was onto something here!”

“We shouldn't just run into something blind. Maybe that worked for you in the past, but as a group, that's recipe for disaster.”

“I have an idea!” Juniper jumped in. “What if we all threw a party tonight that way we're not super nervous about tomorrow?”

“Actually...that doesn't sound too bad,” I replied.

“How is what I proposed any different?” Velvet seemed confused.

“Well, you didn't propose a party,” I pointed out.

“You're just taking her side because you like her,” Velvet added.

“What? No, no, no! I've hardly met her! Or you, or anyone else but Blanc for all that matter. Even with Blanc, I would hold no special favor toward them, so I really don't see how you could get that impression!”

“Yeah, and besides, Velvet, if you mean like in 'that' way, she's a married woman! I'm sure she's faithful!” Considering who said that, the irony cut deep.

“Okay, fine, y'all got me there,” Velvet conceded. “So how about this, then? We'll throw a party, and I'll go out and get the supplies.”

Coriander nudged. “Is this just an excuse to go to your ship?”

“I won't deny that the thought crossed my mind, but nah, a party ain't a bad idea. In fact, maybe I should make a list of things to get while I'm out.”

“Champagne!” I blurted out.

“You sure alcohol's a good idea considering what you told me last night?” Blanc asked. Their concern was not unwelcome, but I had to set the record straight.

“Please, Blanc, I'm an adult woman. Who would I be if I couldn't handle my liquor?”

“If that's how you measure being an adult, I don't wanna know what your definition of 'maturity' is,” Blanc muttered.

“What was that? Have a death wish? Hm?” My eye twitched.

“Okay, champagne, got it,” Velvet jotted down. I didn't know she had a notebook and pen all ready to go. “Anything else?”

“Smoked salmon, crackers, some kind of dip to go with it,” Trent spoke up. Seemed rare for him to input anything at all. “Maybe some cauliflower, carrots, a ranch dip.”

“Healthy, I see. You know, these are End Times and all, so can't guarantee I'll find any of those things, but I'll do my best.”

“Great! I've been wanting to eat healthier for a while now.”

“Fuck that! We only live once, and like Velvet said, world's ending! Be a little more creative!” Coriander rebutted.

“We do only live once, but we also all live an infinite amount of times!” Blanc jumped in. “Because there are an infinite number of us! As for me, I've already lived and died a few times!”

“Yeah, okay, Blanc, but what do you want me to get while I'm out?”

“Fruit snacks!”

“Somehow I knew you'd say that.”

“Kinda fucked up how jello shots aren't vaccines you get to prevent the jello disease,” Blanc added.

“Are you saying you want Jello shots, Blanc?”

“No, I don't like needles.”

“You know that's not what they are, right?”

“Yeah, that's what makes it so fucked up!”

Juniper walked over to Velvet and whispered something in her ear.

“You know, you don't have to whisper. We're all adults here,” Velvet replied.

“Yeaaah, but it's embarrassing!”

“Okay, hard or soft?”

“B-Both!”

“'Kay. Couple bottles of apple cider.”

Really? That was so embarrassing?

“Well, I think I got a good idea of what everyone wants, so looks like I should head off,” Velvet got up.

“Wait just a finger-fucking minute!” Coriander got up after Velvet. “How are you gonna carry all those things yourself? Obviously you're hopeless on your own, so I'm coming with you!”

“'Kay.”

'Finger-fucking'? Did she have to choose those words?

“Ooh! Ooh! Can I come with you two! I think it'll be easier to pick out stuff if I join in!” Juniper raised her hand and beamed.

“Sure, three's company.”

“If she's going, I should go with her! I ought to keep her safe!” Was what should have come from my mouth, but instead came from her brother's.

“Trent, with all due respect, she doesn't need you following her around all the time. She's just as independent as any of us,” I stepped in.

“You know, you're right,” he sighed. “She's always been pretty good on her own, I've just been so used to her living with me and not having an income of her own that I forgot about that.”

“Well, it's easy to see where you're coming from. I don't think it's a bad idea for you to go outside,” I told him, even though I glanced over at Blanc and winked. “In fact, maybe you should get out of the house for a few hours. Take a walk, do something fun, maybe stare off into the water and contemplate things!”

“So it'll just be you and Blanc at home?”

“Sure! We'll get the house all cleaned up while you guys are away! It'll be great!”

He mouthed the word 'wow', then said, “you sure have been a fine addition to this household.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Well, at first you were contentious, but now I feel like you've lived with us for a while.”

“Wha..a...a...I! I swear that couldn't be further than the truth!”

He laughed. “I know, it's just a figure of speech. I think Ol' Conifer Bark would have liked to have met you.”

“Ah, your mom sure was something,” I recalled.

“You knew her?”

“Err...no! Just the impression I got!”

“Ah, right. Well, it's settled. Take care of the house while we're all gone!”

I raised up a thumb. “You bet I will!”

As soon as everyone dispersed and Blanc and I were the only ones left in the house, it was time to get to work.

Guess all she needed was a nice chat with her not-wife for her to start making improvements. Worked for me, now if only I could figure out why she wanted to stay in the house while everyone else went out.

“Hey Blanc,” she turned to me. “I think it's time to undo all the damage done.” Although dramatic in her tone, she smiled the whole way through. I, on the other hand, was bored. It would have been better to just skip forward a few hours in time to the time of the party.

“Do you have to make it sound so serious? Just do what you're going to do,” I droned.

“You know how I roll. Nothing without its weight.”

“Yeah, yeah, just wave a magic wand or something and call it good.”

Her face lowered. “Couldn't you let me have my fun? Ah, very well,” she sighed. “I just think it would make me happier to help everyone else, even if it's something so small as making the house be like it was before that 'Kelly Roger' person broke through.”

“If that's what makes you happier, I'm all for it,” I gave my approval.

She waved her hands around, as if just to stim, but if I had to guess, it was to make up for the lack of a magic wand.

Just conjure a magic wand up and don a magician hat! Shouldn't be too hard!

Regardless, in a flash, the couch was back intact and all the destroyed bits of it were no longer scattered on the floor. The wall behind the house also reappeared. All in all, an adequate job.

“Bravo! Bravo! Now destroy it again so you can repair it again!” I clapped.

She gave a little laugh and did so and I was sure it was purely for my own amusement.

“Again! Again!”

“No, once is enough,” she laughed. “But that was a little fun, I gotta admit.”

“Yeah, so you see, you can hurt, but you can also heal!”

“Hey now, just because I'm in a good mood does not mean I need a lecture.”

I started juggling some balls. Badly. See, even with my ability to make things appear, it still didn't make up for talent. Still, I kept trying, just for the heck of it.

“Whatever mood you're in, I approve!”

“Thank you,” she smiled back. I watched her go into the kitchen and get that much needed glass of water she said she would get just a bit ago.

“You know, I think I'm starting to remember what it is that made me like her in the first place,” she said after sipping a nice, refreshing glass of...what the hell does water even taste like? Y'know, that would never not bug me. How do you describe water besides water?

“Well, that's good, but try not to get too comfortable,” I pointed out.

“Why not? Isn't this better than being bitter? Let me have this!”

“I'm just saying, it's good you two are getting along, but I think it would be good to remember she's not the one you're married to.”

“I'm not gonna cheat on Juniper with Juniper!”

I snorted. God damn! It was worth it just to hear her say that.

“Nah, wasn't suggesting that. Good point, though. I'm just worried about you, y'know? If you start getting the wrong idea, you may feel good now, but then you'll bring yourself back down. Plus, you're only here for a little while.”

“I know,” she groaned. “I knew that the moment I came here. Sheesh, for someone who's merged with a literal happiness angel, you sure are being a buzzkill.”

“You can still have fun! And besides, I have a feeling you'll make that mistake anyway and get yourself hurt, but that's probably what's gong to lead you to be happy! So it's all okay!”

“You know, I really don't remember why we're friends.”

“Because I'm fun!”

She went over and sat next to me.

“I never thought I'd get so comfortable with someone who looks just like the main villain!”

“Don't remind me,” she sounded exhausted rather than mad.

I decided to get up. No offense to her, quite the opposite! I ran up the stairs, went into to Velvet and Coriander's room, then ran back down the stairs.

“What is that?” She pointed to the thing in my hands.

“It's a Nintendo Switch! It's not mine and Coriander would hate it if I took it, but let's play some games while everyone's away!”

So there we were, sitting together as I taught her how to play Animal Crossing. I think it helped take things off her mind just for a bit. Tomorrow was tomorrow, but having fun was good for the now!

We all arrived home at the same time as if by some miracle. As I made my way back home, Coriander and Juniper also carrying bags of looted goods in tow, Trent looked to be walking back toward the house, too. We didn't comment on the coincidence, though it seemed a little interesting that it all worked out that way. Once we arrived, we were in shock.

“What happened to the living room?” Trent gasped. “It's like it never got destroyed!”

Verse stood up and that's what led me to remember just how tall she was. It was like a giant awakening from slumber.

“Blanc and I fixed it!”

“How?” Trent asked. It seemed he couldn't fathom how that was possible. Honestly, I didn't think I could blame him.

“Hard work and dedication!” She winked and gave a thumbs up.

“Magic,” Blanc looked up from Coriander's Switch and seemed to correct her. Coriander seemed not to notice that they were playing on her switch. Verse gave Blanc a glare in response to Blanc's correct.

“The magic of hard work and dedication!” She reiterated, thumb still up, her smiling.

“Well, thank you both! I couldn't be happier!” Trent exclaimed.

“Good, because I didn't actually do anything!” Blanc replied.

Not only that, but there were decorations all over the ceiling, the coffee table got reworked into the designated table with a punch bowl. Yeah, safe to say, I was impressed.

“Oh, right!” I got all caught up in the living room's transformation that I forgot to hand out the goodies. I walked over to tall lady, herself. “Verse, here's your champagne.”

She swiped the bottle from me and held it close.

“My precious,” she hissed.

Blanc nudged. “We poppin' the biggest corks, eh? Eh?”

“Trent, I hate to tell you this, but I didn't find any smoked salmon, so instead we got you some sushi.”

“But I eated it!” Coriander chimed in.

“...That's why we then went and got you some more sushi.”

“Gee, thanks! Those are also good!”

“Juniper, for you, two bottles of cider: one bottle of Screaming Trees hard cider, the other a nice soft case of Martinelli's.”

“Yay! You're the bestest!”

Coriander tossed Blanc a huge bag of fruit gummies. “Don't spend it all on one place, kiddo!”

“I thought of getting you gummy bears, but then I thought you would say 'all life is precious, I couldn't bear to kill a gummy bear', so I passed.”

“Thanks for being considerate, Velvet!” Blanc grinned.

“No problem, bud! As for Coriander and I, we're just gonna gorge ourselves on pizza and root beer. Though it wouldn't surprise me if she slipped some alcoholic root beer into the bag when I wasn't looking.”

“I live on the edge!” My lifelong roommate declared.

Yes, I think I did a pretty good job, if I did say so myself. There was one last thing to say:

“With that out of the way, let the party commence!” It hadn't even turned to dusk, but best to get the festivities going as soon as possible.

...At least that's what I thought. By the time it was actually late at night, I was certain I was the only one that wasn't shitfaced. Well, there was Blanc, too.

“Isn't it odd that there's a drink called a screwdriver but apparently it's not actually a screwdriver in liquid form?” Blanc went around the room and asked us each at random intervals.

In Blanc's case, it sounded more like a high than a drunkenness.

Verse was sitting at a chair, musing with a glass of her champagne.

“To drink or not to drink, that is the question, right Mr. Skull?” She laughed and a bit of her drink spilled onto her lap. “Aye, these seas be rough, matey!” She laughed again. “Oh, Mr. Skull! I can't be Hamlet, because you're not a skull, you're a glass of champagne!”

“You know, I don't know why Blanc thought her getting drunk was a bad idea,” I remarked. “This is the happiest I've seen her.”

“O Captain, my Captain!” She bellowed. “Pour me another glass!”

I went over to her. “Everything all good, cap?”

“VELV!” She was excited to see me. “I'm so glad you're here, I love you so much!”

“Uh...okay...”

“You could,” she hiccuped. “You could change your name to Red Cedar.”

“No thanks.”

“Aw, give it a try!”

Yeah, moving on.” I walked around. Laying on one of the couches was sleeping pixie. I mean, beauty.

“Hey babe,” I nudged her shoulder.

She snored.

So now I know what she's like when she's drunk. She just passes right out.

That just left Juniper, but she didn't seem to be paid much mind. She was just standing next to the table where the punch bowl was and chatting it up with her brother.

I was about to go sit down when I noticed Verse get up and go to the punch bowl. Something stirred in me, like I should watch what would happen next.

“I need a punch! Right in the gut!” She hiccuped and swayed on over to the punch bowl.

“Oh hey, it's Versey-Verse! Good to see you, BDSM Therapy Librarian! You know, I was just chatting with Trent about solipsism and then I got distracted thinking about how I don't actually know what the 'self' is! Isn't that funny, like we're just standing here, but are we really ourselves? You know, don't answer that, I'm drunk!”

Ah, I see. Juniper gets really chatty when she's drunk.

“I'm just here for some punch,” Verse replied.

“Yeah, funny that, that punch thing! I've always wondered what fruits go into a fruit punch, like I'm pretty sure one of them is apple, and maybe there's an orange, but what accounts for the red? Is it strawberry? Raspberry? Oh, it doesn't matter! In the end, they all come together to form that thing we call a fruit punch, and I think that's what life is all about. See, my brother here's kinda like you, he gets all worried a lot about things and holds a lot in, so maybe that's how I can tell that something was up with you.”

“I think there are too many things going on at once,” Verse spoke, still in her silly drunken stupor, but the closest thing to her usual phrases I've heard all evening.

“Yeah, so as I was telling Trent, you just gotta do what's right for you!”

“But you're what's right for me,” Verse spoke in a whimper.

“What? Was that flirting? I can't tell if that was, I'm never good at telling when someone's flirting with me, so if that's what it was, can you tell me? But anyway, don't you have a wife? Why would you be flirting with me?”

“You're my wife!” She cried out, then left the living room sobbing.

Rather than run into the guest room that she had been staying in, she ran up the stairs, where there were three different bedrooms she could have ran in.

Now I see, Blanc. Now I see.

I sighed. “Looks like I gotta be the designated talker tonight.”

Before going up to console her, I went over to Coriander, as I knew if she walked in on us, she was prone to getting the wrong idea. So I nudged Coriander again, and this time, she woke up, if only a little.

“Hey, a lot of drama stems from poor communication, so I'm trying to nip this one in the bud. So just to let you know, I'm going to go upstairs to get intimate with a very tall lady. Don't wanna alarm you.”

“Mm...okay,” she replied. “Can you give me a kiss goodnight?”

“No, you're drunk.”

“Okay,” she smiled, then went back to sleep.

The fuck? It was that easy.

One task done, one left to go.

It took me a few rooms before I got it right, but finally I found her. There were gadgest and gizmos and stuffed rabbits. If I had to guess, it was probably Juniper's room. Even when I entered, Verse didn't seem to notice me, she was instead sobbing on the back of a futon.

“I'd say she'd get mad if she found out you were in her room, but let's be real, she's probably gonna pass out in the middle of the living room tonight.”

She turned to me, and leaped back in shock.

“What am I doing here? Where am I?”

Did she sober up already? I wasn't sure if that was really the case.

“You're in sweet little Juniper's room,” I told her.

“Sweet...little...” She gasped and started hitting her head against the cushion of the futon. “This is terrible, so terrible!”

“It sure is something, alright.” I went to sit next to her on the futon. “So what's going on?”

“She continued to sob. “I...I miss her.”

“Who?”

“Juniper.”

“Well, you can still see her.”

“She probably hates me.”

“Nah, she probably just figures you were saying weird things because you were drunk. Which, she's drunk, too. You two can still talk.”

“No, I mean my wife! I miss Jun,” she hiccuped. It sounded like she said Junko.

“Junko? Your wife's name is Junko?”

She nodded, then looked confused. “Who's Junko?”

“I don't know, you tell me!”

“I'm just upset because when I look at her, she reminds me of my wife, and it hurts so much. I get so confused.”

“Who? Juniper?”

“Yes! Then there's all the questions and it's just a lot. I just wish I could look at her and see someone else!”

“I don't understand.”

“It's like she's there, but it's not her, and I want so bad to be with her, but it's not her!”

“Again, I'm confused.”

“It's like I've been close to being happy, but I just don't deserve to be.”

Huh, where have I heard that one before? Oh right, me.

“Why don't you think you deserve to be?”

“Because!” She continued to weep. “It seems all I do is hurt people, and the worst part is, sometimes I even enjoy it.”

“Oh girl, you bad. You real bad,” I teased.

“I know!” She cried out, then cried some more for good measure.

“Whoa, I was just kidding. I mean, it's probably not that bad.”

“It is! I know it is and I can't stop! Even tonight!”

She was being a lot more coherent than when she was drunk downstairs, but I knew she was still drunk. I could tell because she was one of those 'emotional' drunk types, which I used to be as well. Now it made total sense why Blanc warned her. I was starting to piece together how much of an idiot she could be at times.

“Hey,” I rubbed her back. “She's fine. Everyone's having a good time. Nobody's hurt.”

She faced forward, but started sobbing into her hands rather than the cushion of the futon. I couldn't tell which was the better option. Now her hands were gonna be all gross with tears and snot.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She poked her head out from her palms and asked.

“Because I'm bored? Because you're a friend of a friend? Because you being in a bad mood kills the vibe? What does it matter?” I picked up a stick and started poking her with it. “Hm?”

“Hey! Stop poking me! Where'd you get that stick, anyway?”

“Never mind that. That's not important now.”

“I miss her, I really do. It just makes the fact that I can't see her all that harder,” she went on.

“Why? Why can't you go back and see her?”

“Because I hurt her and I can't face her. Now I'm going up against an entity that's larger than any of us and I probably won't survive.”

“Don't talk like that. Nothing's set in stone. Let's say you do survive, and you are able to go back to her.”

“I don't think she would accept me,” she wiped her face. “I've failed her, just like I've failed myself and others so many other times.”

“You know, I bet I have an idea why Blanc wants to help you.”

“Why? Why would they be relevant right now?”

“Well, it's just that they went through similar things. Not the whole love life thing, but they were really down on themselves a lot and didn't have a bright outlook on things. I remember how they told Conrad once how they didn't belong anywhere and how they wanted to. With Blanc, they used to go about thinking they didn't fit into any group, and how no one would love and accept them, and how all they wanted was to be happy. So if they're happy now, and they have friends, even if we're not perfect people, I'd say I'm happy for them.”

“Really?” She began to look down. “I mean, I already knew, to an extent. When they got their new arm, I remember asking if they were okay not having their memories and living with my wife and I and they said they were happy like that.”

“Dang, so they lived with you two?”

“Two? Three? There was...hm...yes. We lived together. It was like an abstract family, of sorts.”

“Odd, but if they wanted a family who loved them, even if those people weren't much older than them, makes sense.”

“Then they told me about you and Conrad later, and how they missed you guys, but wasn't sure if you thought of them as a friend as well.”

“Yeah, I still don't think they're perfect. But I think it's good that they got what they wanted, in a way.”

“What does all that have to do with me, though?”

“Well, if you got what you wanted, wouldn't it make you happy, even if it felt like hell to get there?”

“I've tried that. It didn't work. I've done what I thought was right for me, too, but it all led to disaster. The only thing that's right for me is death.”

“Don't talk like that! Didn't you scold Blanc over self-deprecating? You may not have found what's right for you, or you might know what's right for you, but it wasn't right for you at the time.”

“I want to see her again! So bad! But I feel like I already ruined that!”

“Well, did you? Was it or was it not a break up?”

“It wasn't, but it may as well have been!”

“If it wasn't, doesn't that mean there's still a chance?”

She nodded. “But what if I fail again? What if she doesn't accept me?”

“Then you fail. You move on. It hurts, but that doesn't mean all you will do for the rest of your life is fail.”

“You're right,” she wiped her face again. “I have to do this, don't I?”

“You don't have to do anything. You can do whatever you feel like doing. But if that's what you feel like you should do, then yeah. Go for it.”

Then it happened: she hugged me.

“Th-Thank you!” She blubbered. “You're a good friend!”

“Jeez,” I struggled to break free. “You're so tall.”

“Shut up. Don't be ungrateful.”

It was at that point in which I couldn't tell whether or not she was drunk anymore. But, the very next second, she passed out. I slipped out of her grasp and got up.

“I should pour cups of orange juice for everyone. The last thing we need before a final battle is a hangover.” That was more a verbal reminder than anything else. As for the tall lady passed out on the futon, I said to her one last thing. “Goodnight, Verse. We have a big day tomorrow.”

I turned out the light and went to my own room. The living room would have to stay a mess. It wasn't like we would be seeing that house much longer. Maybe none of us were prepared for what was to come next, but we would all soon find out.

#happiness overload #writing #stories #fiction #comedy #drama #with special guest #spoilers #kelly roger from the frogger may cry series

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