#none of this probably makes sense it's too early in the morning and yet here i am

[lilyofporcelain]

DWC - 26 May - Day 2 - Placate / Graceful

She didn’t know how long they’d been standing out there in the early hours of the morning. The sun had not yet begun to rise, there was no paying witness to the spread of dawn as the world was splashed in light and colour. At least not yet. For as much as she had oft found herself in situations where she simply wanted time to stop, she wondered if this was one of them. A part of her did. If time stopped, they could simply stand there together in silence for… forever. She’d never have to say anything. She’d never have to start diving into the complicated mess that her heart and its contents truly was. But in the moment of their silence, however long that might have been, it was perfect.

…Wasn’t it?

Would have been if it weren’t for the knotting apprehension that was eating and chewing and consuming Laeynna’s insides. Was it noticeable? Probably not. She had, for years, become accustomed to simply holding everything inside of herself. That had, of course, done terrible things to her. Everyone else did too, though, didn’t they? Wasn’t that just a normal thing people did? Bottle everything up, never let it out, just slowly and slowly grow more resigned and angry and upset. She was almost positive that was virtuallythe definition of being one of their kind. She’d always had such a grim way of looking at it all, though.

Peridot gaze carefully flicked to her right just in time to watch fishing line and lure hit the surface of the water. The sound she heard first, breaking into her self-perceived silence, and she watched as ripples started small and grew larger and larger. People were like that a little, weren’t they? Like ripples. They all started as a singular, individual piece on the playboard in the cosmologically vast thing called ‘life’ and over time and circumstance, that piece became more than it was.

Today, you are more than you were yesterday, and thus for you, my love continues to grow. Tomorrow, you will be more than you are today and thus for you, my love shall continue to grow.

The words echoed between her ears and though she tried to ignore it, she felt the cold stab of her worry, wrapped into a single grand mass. Its clutches pressed along the small of her back, like sharp fingers that grappled along her. Pulling, pulling, pulling. Where was it going to take her? She didn’t want to see. The flutter of panic began to rise from her insides. The intensity of her breath, which had been nothing at all, suddenly shifted—quickening and just as sharp as the touch had been.

“I can’t imagine you invited me out here to just stand around in silence.” There was the telltale adjust of her posture and the soft leathers she was donning on the very dark morning. “On the other hand, it’s you we’re talking about, so that might be your intention after all.”

“Sorry—” Laeynna’s response was almost immediate. It felt practically like a muscle memory, words sitting on the tip of her tongue. Yet, it was stupid to think that ‘sorry’ was going to fix anything. Especially when it came to her life’s reflection. All of the feelings that had begun to swell to something she wouldn’t be able to control were hastily wrapped up and shoved further deep into the darkest parts of her person. “Of course I did not invite you along to say… nothing. I just… I have not known what to say. I keep thinking about it. For days now before this one, I went through all of the words I could use and none of them feel right. I thought perhaps I could practise what I wanted to convey, but even that—”

“It’d be really impersonal if you did that,” her sister chimed in, a hint of amusement in her thin voice. “I get it. I do. But instead of trying to be perfect, why don’t you just… I don’t know. Be you. It doesn’t have to be an art piece. It doesn’t have to be grand. It doesn’t even have to make that perfect sense that you seem to be obsessed with. You’re not being evaluated, Laeynna. Not everyone is going to do that. Maybe relax a little.” Ankalei lifted a hand and she gestured out to the lake in front of them, crystal blue clear water that they could see right down to the bottom of, teeming with fish. “The fish are definitely relaxed. Do your best fish impression.”

The characteristic gentle furrow of her brow ensued and Laeynna looked between her twin and the water indicated. “...Glub… glub?” she asked somewhat dumbly as her lips scrunched up into what she imagined a fish mouth’s might have.

She was rewarded with a laugh and it echoed in the quiet otherwise around them. “That’s pretty good, actually. ‘Glub glub’ indeed.” Grinning, with the same hand, Ankalei motioned for her to continue. “Humour’s a pretty good start. Use that energy. It’ll help you get out everything that you feel like you need to get out. And—” As she looked over to Laeynna, her blue eyes found her counterpart’s with ease. “If it’s too hard, don’t rehash it.”

Laeynna simply stared at her for a moment or two, the similar dumbfounded expression drawn across her fae-like features. Then she moved her gaze back onto where her fishing line met the water, untouched by the lake’s plethora of denizens. An idle thought rolled around in the back of her mind about having brought the wrong bait, but it was merely a moment before it was replaced with the matter at hand. Drawing in a deep breath, her thoughts still spun, continuing to wonder where she should begin. Yet Ankalei’s reminder had been needed. 

She wasn’t being evaluated. Not everyone was going to do that. She didn’t always need to stand on ceremony or expect the worst of others. Like so many of her other habits, it was going to be another difficult one to overcome.

The same breath released and Laeynna struggled to find her voice, a gentle little waver in her tone, as if she hadn’t quite committed herself to the words just yet. “I took everything from you.”

“Laeynna—”

“Please,” the dark-haired elf began. “Let me say this in my way. It is the only way I know how to.” From the corner of her eye, she could see her sister wearing a somehow softer, gentler pull of her expression. If she was distracted from her thoughts too much, she wondered if she’d still have the courage to continue. “I… took everything from you. I wish… I wish I knew why I did it. I have spent years thinking and thinking and thinking about it. It is not something I can undo. I wish that I could, Ankalei. There are… so many things I would... if I could… go back and do differently. But there is nothing in my life I regret more than what I did to you. I wish that I could give you my life.”

She shook her head, shaken breath falling out of her, and she could just scarcely feel the gentle tremor in her arms, as if the weight of her fishing pole was daring to become too much for her to endure. It was not… grand or over the top. As her sister had said, maybe it didn’t need to be. Maybe all that was needed was for her to be straight forward and honest. Both of them could go over everything with a fine-tooth comb, but what good would that really do? That was then and this was now.

Her sister was quiet, undoubtedly thinking in her own way about how to approach the matter. Perhaps surprised, even, that Laeynna had been willing to take the sisterly advice she’d gotten. Still housing that gentle smile, however, there was sincerity, a warmth of older days, and a sadness all combined into one, showing that even a curve of the mouth was not always as simple as it appeared to be. Nothing in life seemed to be, really. Complexities abound.

“I know,” Ankalei finally began, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, causing the moist dirt beneath her boots to adjust as well. “I know that you regret it. I know… that things have changed a lot. For both of us. And I know that you worry. Not just about what happened that day or how I’m handling it, but about everything.” When she looked over to Laeynna, she shook her head, “You don’t need to worry so much. Unless you’ve got a miniature member of the Bronze that you’re carrying around in your stuff—highly unlikely—you don’t need to get caught up in trying to revisit the past.”

Her hand lifted, covered in ashen colour, damaged nails from normal wear and tear and her poor habits when she lived, and she gestured around them. The forest, in its perpetual autumn, was beautiful. Trees of plated gold and licking flames of orange and red, creating canopies that looked as royal as the growing reconstruction of their fair city.

“We all want to do things differently,” she continued, then. “All of us. We can’t and we begrudgingly accept that. Because we can’t, it’s important to do the best within our ability each day.” As she began to reel in her line, her chin dipped. “None of us can live in the past. We shouldn’t. The present and the future are in front of us. Maybe not the way we envisioned, but that doesn’t make it any less worthy a present and future to experience. You get what I’m saying, Laeynna?”

Laeynna watched her sister finish retrieving her line. As Ankalei set down her pole, nice and orderly, she gestured to her twin and it didn’t take long for her to pick up the hint. Following in suit, she accepted their loss of fish with what elegance she could, and in the minutes that came after, her pole sat with the other. She joined Ankalei in the grass not far from the lakeshore and as they sat, Ankalei offered her lap, guiding her sister’s head of sable hair to it.

As Ankalei began to carefully card her fingers through the ends of dark hair, Laeynna felt a soft little lump form in her throat, something she tried to swallow down, though it did nothing and she was unsurprised. “...I do,” she agreed. “I have been living in the past for a long time. For so long that sometimes… I forgot what it was like to live in the present.”

“I know,” Ankalei reassured her with the same gentle smile. “Sometimes I’m like that, too. For a long time I thought the only place for me in the world was the Order. Thought if I couldn’t make it there, there wasn’t a point to anything. But uh… that’s not really true. You know that guy, from the clinic. Shit—what’s his name. Veilos? I don’t even call him that.”

“Veilos Dai'goa.”

“That’s the one. Right.” Ankalei carefully shifted the way Laeynna’s hair framed her face in its overabundance of waves and… well. Length, in general. It practically drowned her lap as she was really looking at it. “I don’t remember the exact wording he used, but there was a night a bunch of us were sitting in one of the city’s taverns. All around a table. Well—most of us anyway. He brought up a good point. That in my case, I don’t have to be just a soldier. Wasn’t just him, either. Everyone there had good guidance.”

A pause ensued where ordinarily a breath might have been taken. Ankalei emulated the sensation, but even Laeynna knew that it was only an emulation. Something to make her seem like she was one of the living. Maybe habitual or a subconscious reaction made by the company she kept.

Laeynna nodded slowly as she looked up to her sister, “I… noticed that. I mean, that they are…” Awkwardly she paused and then she smiled somewhat sheepishly, light and subdued, as if she was afraid to let it become anything more. “They are good people. I like them a lot.”

“...Hm. Look at that,” her twin looked fond then. “You admitting that you like people.” In a way, her tone had betrayed just a tint of jest, but then, there was a subtle shift in her expression to something a touch more serious. Thoughtful. “I don’t think you realise it, but you’ve changed since you met them. The clinic. The bakery. I’ve been watching you for a long time. You aren’t the same person. You’re more than you were.”

Laeynna felt uncertain then. Conflicted. Not because of the notion that her sister had been looking after her, but because as ever when something like praise entered the situation, she didn’t know how to handle it. Instinct told her to refuse, to shove it elsewhere, and perhaps to pretend she’d never heard it to begin with. Compliments about her person were still difficult to hear and just as difficult to accept.

“...Mayhaps,” she finally agreed with a quiet little sigh. It wasn’t exactly acceptance, but it was something like it. Better than nothing considering she had often protested otherwise or used less than shining words to describe her person.

“Bet you’re wishing Andy was here, huh? He’d probably lighten everything up with some of that humour of his.”

Even as Ankalei’s face broke into a grin, Laeynna’s expression nearly darkened. She tried so hard to avoid him coming up into conversation. Just days before, Junarra had shown to the bakery dressed as him and Laeynna had felt so emotionally conflicted that in one moment, she wanted to laugh because the notion was so incredibly sweet and then in the same breath, she’d nearly burst into tears. For all she wanted to answer, she couldn’t bring herself to use words to do so. Instead, her gaze moved off of the twin who leaned over her and back onto the surface of the lake, thinking it was so much more still than her insides were.

“Yeah… That’s what I thought,” Ankalei observed with a slow nod. “When’s he coming back?”

Laeynna shook her head, “I hardly know. He—” For a moment, they stopped in her throat, trapped by that lump that had formed their previously. Was it her imagination or had it grown? “He has not written me since he left. I write to him and receive nothing. Does he even get my letters? Does he even want to?” He wouldn’t have abandoned Rags and that she knew. Did it mean, then, that something had happened? Maybe he’d realised in his absence away just how unworthy she was of him. Maybe he’d realised in their time apart that he hadn’t loved her. Or he’d simply fallen out of love with her. Out of sight, out of mind, no? Her hands lifted and as she felt her expression contort and twist, she covered her face to hide behind.

“Hey, hey—” Ankalei stopped fiddling with her hair and she reached down to touch her sister’s hands. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here. It’s okay.” Helping guide Laeynna up from where she withdrew into her proverbial shell, she pulled her twin into her arms and embraced her tightly.

I miss him so much. The entire world feels dark without him here.

Every time he got mentioned, she was afraid she’d start crying. She felt like she kept lying, though in reality, she didn’t have the answers. Didn’t know how long he was going to be gone for. Didn’t know how he was doing. Didn’t know if he’d gotten himself into danger. Didn’t know if he’d come back in one piece. And the more time she spent thinking about it, which she did plenty of in her solitude, the more she worried and the more she expected the worst.

“I’m sorry—” she murmured into her sister’s shoulder.

Ankalei shook her head, carefully, soothingly drawing a hand up and down Laeynna’s back. “No, no,” she began. “Don’t do that. It’s not a weakness to show feelings, Laeynna.” Resting her forehead to her twin’s temple, she dropped the volume of her voice. “He’s gonna come back. I don’t know the guy well, but if you’d seen the guy I saw when he found out you were missing, you’d get it. He’s not going to let anything stand between the two of you. He’d claw his way back to you if he had to.”

Whether she knew that or not, Laeynna had to wonder. Had Ankalei seen something in him that she hadn’t? Something that she, perhaps, had been blind to? Something she’d been unwilling to let herself see? She wanted to believe Ankalei was right. Her heart wanted to believe it with such a ferocity that she almost couldn’t contain herself. But… what if she was wrong? What if she suddenly developed hope and the worst came to pass?

…She didn’t want to think like that.

As Ankalei drew back, she studied her sister carefully, taking in every feature. Guiding some of that dark hair back behind long, graceful ears, her own resolve strengthened, perhaps. Maybe in recognition that Laeynna needed someone to be her supportive tower. The role of the older twin. Ankalei had been made for that.

“I think…” she began, words betraying a depth of thought that had likely lingered and welled for some time. “Do you remember when we were younger, there was something you wanted to do. Before you got caught up in Dad’s things. Do you remember, Laeynna?” Fingertips gently bunched up tresses of dark hair and the focus of her stare sought recognition. “Remember that. The person you wanted to be.”

Held so securely by her sister, Laeynna knew what Ankalei spoke of. She’d never really discussed it at length. In fact, she’d only made mention of it once or twice and such moments had been brief.

Laeynna began to shake her head, “I… I would not even know where to begin. I am much too old to begin—”

“No. I won’t accept that,” Ankalei broke in, not giving her twin a chance to protest. “You shouldn’t either. Find a tutor. Someone you can learn from. Start reading about it. Start practising. Start studying. It’ll give you something to do.”

Freeing a heavy sigh that did nothing to relieve the weight atop her chest and her shoulders, Laeynna shook her head. “No. I… That time has passed. That possibility ended years ago. I made that impossible.”

Ankalei’s hands carefully dropped from the round face of her counterpart’s and to her shoulders. The touch there gentle until it wasn’t. She gripped, perhaps tighter than she’d meant to. Just enough for Laeynna to feel the ache in how she was held. “I didn’t die to watch you wither away, Laeynna.” With just enough force as if she could jostle her sister’s poorer thoughts out of her, Ankalei carefully shook her. “Just because you don’t want to see it doesn’t mean others can’t. Or that they won’t. I…” 

For some moments, she quieted, as if considering her approach. Then she found herself shaking her head. “Zaihne didn’t give me the details about what happened down there. But he did tell me it was serious. Based on the stories given by the others the expedition recovered, I can take a guess and I’m probably not far off the mark.” Looking her sister over again with scrutinising eye, Ankalei rested a hand along the curve of her neck, thumb passing over the throat. “I want to tell you to get looked at. That you need help. That you can’t keep trying to do everything alone. And it’s fine if you don’t want me to be involved. But if you feel like you took everything from me, the closest thing I have to having anything is you. You’re what I have left. It’s your responsibility to make sure it stays that way.”

Laeynna met her sister’s severe expression, somehow sharp and gentle at the same time, and she wallowed in muted thought. Perhaps she’d never considered it before, the idea that if Ankalei felt like she had so little, she still had her sister. She still had her life’s reflection. Regardless of how things had come to be as they were in the prominent present, they still had one another. Despite the way Laeynna had deliberately built a wall between them, no amount of running could save her from the truth. Ankalei was an animated representation of so many of her regrets, but in that same body, there was an undeniable validity to her sister’s claims. She hadn’t been the same since the City of Threads.

Dropping her glowing gaze onto her hands that somehow seemed more frail than she even knew herself to be, her insides swirled with uncertainty and a desire for the same strength and resolve that her twin wielded. She didn’t have to be Ankalei. She never had to be. She could get away with just being herself, as long as she allowed it. The only person who had stood in her way was herself.

…But how was she to begin? It all felt so daunting.

“It’s okay to be scared,” she heard her sister say. “And it’s okay not to know. But it’s not okay for you to lock yourself in this prison you’ve made.” When Ankalei took her hands, Laeynna lifted her gaze again, words on the very tip of her tongue, more protests, but she wasn’t given the opportunity to say them. Not when Ankalei continued in that authoritative voice. “You’re a botanist, Laeynna, but you’re not a flower. You’re not an experiment. You’re not a poison. Not to me. Not to Mom and Dad. Not to your friends. Not to Andy. You’re so much more than that. Than all of that.”

The sum of all of her parts, good and bad, and more.

“So you owe it to yourself more than anyone else,” Ankalei kept her trained focus with a short little nod.

“Open a book and start there. Everything else will fall into place.”

— @daily-writing-challenge

[melodic-haze]

Jinhsi is glowing in the game..i for real thought it was a bug or something and then i open twitter and people be saying the same things..how can she looks so goddamn beautiful..Like she can go from all softie to a literal badass woman..i want her so bad.

Imagine we as her lover omg i can't. Jinhsi is a type of lover who caress your face in the morning and put our safety first GAHGH WANT HER SO BAD

☆ — DEMO TRACK: Jinhsi x Reader

☆ — TYPE: SFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: None :3

☆ — NOTES: I AM SO SORRY??? THIS WAS FROM FUCKING MAY OH MY GOD. I have another ask after that'll tie into this (more specifically, NSFW hcs for her 😊) saur yeah. Anyway GUYS LOOK A SFW DEMO....WOW I swear I'm multifaceted

☆ — PARTS: Part 1 (you are here), Part 2

She is like. Green flags all over idc idc I NEED HER man she's so sweet my baby 😩😩😩 I need her dawg just having this woman as your lover must be like. So nice as long as you accept that she's working with an extremely busy schedule

Even then though I DO think she'd make time for you. She's a very balanced girlie who's learnt how to balance between working and resting, preferrably with you :3

She makes a point to always ALWAYS wake up next to you. I'd say that she's an early riser as well so she probably just lays there on her side, brushing her hand on your face and your body as she waits for you to wake up. Could she just get up and carry on with work? Yes, and perhaps you've even offered that she could bc you KNOW being a magistrate means you're never NOT busy.. but she's always declined, saying that the first thing she wants to see in the morning isn't work but rather the joy on people's faces as a result of her hard work with keeping the peace.......and that is especially the case with seeing you alive and satisfied in her embrace 🥰🥰🥰🥰

The first thing you feel when you wake is a soft kiss on your bare shoulder, the contact warm and tender yet brief.. but then it comes back as quick as it went and you can't help but sigh in contentment as your eyes fluttered open.

The first thing you see is not Jinzhou's magistrate but rather a woman of pure elegance, her seemingly luminescent white hair flowing freely and expectedly unkept after a lovely night (and you could never tell if it was due to her connection with Jué or if it were a natural reflection of the light). Though to you, she was still nothing short of perfect, with the way the morning light had bathed her pale skin with such an ethereal glow.

"Good morning, dearest."

The first thing you hear is the sound of her soft voice, a groggy rasp to its undertone as a result of a good night's sleep with you.

"Mmm.. morning."

That was the only form of verbal exchange the two of you had for a while as you both laid on the bed without any intention of hastily diving back into the real world. You simply turned around to snuggle closer to your gentle lover, your limbs tangled together before you leaned in at the same time.

There it was, the first thing you taste and the first thing you smell being her, all five senses filled with nothing but her. And considering how busy her life is, you wouldn't have your mornings any other way.

You don't actually know how long you've spent there in silence, cradling each other and exchanging tender kisses without a need for words. You don't really care, and neither does your beloved girlfriend despite the responsibilities she has. But of course, you know better than to question her.

You could have stayed there until the end of time but alas, duty does call.. and so do your stomachs for a good meal.

The both of you sit up at the same time, as if attuned to each other, and give each other one more peck before parting.

"I can make something for breakfast," you offered, "though if you need to leave now, then that's fine too."

Jinhsi shook her head, "I have a counter-offer; let me do the cooking this time."

"You sure? You know you don't have to do that."

"Shh," she places a finger on your lips for a moment before dropping her hand, "I want to. You deserve to be treated every once in a while, so let me?"

"..You always convince me, even though it feels like you're wasting your time for me."

"I wouldn't, as you say, 'waste my time' in doing so if I didn't love you."

WIFE MATERIAL WIFE MATERIAL WIFE MATERIAL I LOVE YOU JINHSI

Throughout your day to day basis I feel like she likes to keep tabs on you to make sure you're okay. She isn't oppressive with it, doesn't have anyone directly guarding you and looming over you or stalking you at every direction, bc she knows you can handle yourself and function independently and she doesn't want you thinking she doesn't trust you!!! But she often asks people if they've seen you around and how you're faring. I think at some point, people end up doing it on their own bc they can tell (with much amusement, ESPECIALLY for Changli) how much she cares about you. Even Sanhua makes it a point to report to her if she sees you somewhere HAHAHA

Speaking of Sanhua, considering how you two are tied together then she's also technically your bodyguard by proxy 🫶 so expect to see her a lot. She'd have a soft spot for you as well, starting off bc you make Jinhsi happy but then over timr you'd probably bond anyway (and Jinhsi's cheery ab having her two precious people get along :3)

She also sends you gifts if she can't see you for the day or a certain period of time. A random courier delivers it to you personally with a knowing smile on their face and you're usually surprised with how it's either something you've wanted for a while now, something you thought about today as you passed by a certain store, or just something that she says in a note reminded her of you 🫠🫠🫠UGH I'M SO LONELY

Ofc being in a relationship with Jinzhou's magistrate also means suffering the downsides aka being basically the prime target for anything that may source as a way to get to Jinhsi with more.. hostile means. Doesn't necessarily happen much bc she takes safety SERIOUSLY but ofc it does happen. Not to mention in general as well, with all the tacet fields popping up left and right

She wants to be able to protect you 24/7 but she does know constant protection would suffocate anyone, with the way she's able to essentially assign the fiercest most intimidating people to basically surround you. But she does try, if not by having others to do so then by herself

Watching Jinhsi fight felt like nothing short of an ongoing art piece painted onto a canvas.

She was unfazed, unbothered and ever so graceful—her sword cuts through the Tacet Discords so cleanly as she executed each one without so much as breaking a sweat. Despite the chaotic conflict, however, it felt as if she were simply dancing through each Discord with their shrieks and screams as her very own orchestrated accompaniment.

..What a morbid thought, though your lover still seems to make it seem like a beautiful visage anyway.

The two of you had only wanted to venture beyond Jinzhou's city walls for a nice picnic, but of course the risk of encountering random dangers had caught up to you, hence the situation.

You knew you wouldn't have to wait for long though—and you say that with such jarring nonchalance because a situation like this is more than some random nuisance, except you have the Sentinel's blessed willingly protecting you—because Jinshi's making short work on the Discords like they're nothing. As expected, of course, though there was that valid twinge of fear mixing within your excitement and awe at her power and her fighting prowess.

A blink, and the final Discord falls to her sword, the metal of her blade echoing out a metallic, reasonating sound that announces the battle's finality. And with it, the Echoes of the last Discord she had felled is stood there, sparkling a glittering gold.

She looks back at you with a concentrated glare, the horns on her head and the aura surrounding her signifying the final fragments of her silent aggression, before she blinks out of her state and reverts back to the seemingly docile woman that you spend your days with.

The white-haired woman licked her lips before speaking, her gaze darting from you to the still Echo, "A see-through visage of you would make for a nice anniversary gift, no?"

You snorted, walking over to her now that the field's been cleared, "Are you implying that you'll kill me so that I end up like the Echo there?"

"Goodness, no! The Echo's presence simply sparked an idea within me." She laughs despite the fight she had just gone through, and the sound couldn't be more musical to your ears, "I simply want to immortalise your memory, perhaps with my presence as a cameo?"

"Even though you're arguably the more important public figure out of the two of us? Why not just have us together, on equal standing?"

"..Why, that possibility had slipped my mind. Perhaps I'm not thinking straight."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"You must be winded, then... How about we find a spot to sit for our picnic, and then you can rest all you like? I did promise Sanhua that I'll have you back relaxed, unhurt and in one piece."

She raised an eyebrow mirthfully, "I still think she should have been more worried about you. I can take care of myself, as you've seen."

"Yeah, well-- ..wait, do you think she'd chew me out for having you fight for me?"

Jinhsi simply gives you a cheeky grin as she walks off, the playful expression a rare view on the Magistrate.. but extremely beautiful nonetheless. And you are left to chase after her, the both of you giggling as you stride through the now-peaceful plains.

And the whole thing has you thinking, that perhaps there is a more.. convenient way of immortalising your bond together, without a need for artificial Echoes or transparent tributes.

All you'd need is a ring.

And maybe better accompaniment instead of the screams of her enemies.

Idk how I ended up with a proposal teaser I'm ngl tk you what the fuck LMAOOO this is what happens when I don't plan anything. Contrary to popular belief I think marriage is a scam but this isn't about me 🫶

Dating Jinshi's obvs not gonna be sunshine and flowers with the risk and how busy she is bc she's leading an entire region, but surprisingly it's pretty close :3

[p-artsypants]

The Pale Rider (5) The Shambling will Cease

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

It was early in the morning. Most businesses, minus the bakery, weren’t open yet. The morning dew was still fresh on the patches of grass strewn about the square, and the horizon was orange with the rising sun. Astrid entered Gobber’s shop, hoping to speak to him before anyone else arrived. 

Luckily, he was there, lighting the fires. 

“Oh! Astrid! My, you’re early!”

She latched the half door shut behind her, a pep in her step. “Good morning, Gobber. I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Must be pretty important if you’re here so damn early,” he noted again.  

“I can come back,” she pointed at the door. 

“No no, none of that. What do you need?” 

“The Rider seems to have a knack for gift giving.” 

“That he does!” 

“I thought maybe…he’d like a gift in return?” 

Gobber chuckled. “Knowing him, he’d probably try to pay you for it.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of…” 

“What were you thinking about giving the poor creature?” 

She hopped up to sit on the counter, and swung her legs idly. “I’ve noticed he doesn’t walk so well. He said his leg was taken a long time ago. I think his fake leg is broken or too short.” 

“So you want me to make him a prosthesis?” 

“I was just…wondering if that was possible? But the problem is, I really don’t have the coin to pay for it. I could bring you fresh flowers for your shop everyday!” 

“That’s not necessary, dearie. He’s been overpaying me for everything for years. I’ve got plenty of cushion to make him a leg.” 

“Would you?” She folded her hands in front of her chest. 

“Sure! Though, I don’t know why he never asked me for one before.” 

“I think he doesn’t have a lot of self-love. You know, he said the curse on this island is because of something he did.” 

“Really? What did he do?”

“He says he can’t remember. How hard must it be to repent for a crime you didn’t know you committed?”

Gobber hummed sadly. “Poor lad. He’s had a rough life.” 

“Yeah? He told you about it?” 

“Tiny fragments, every once in a while. You know, it wasn’t until earlier this year he started talking in full sentences. First two years, I had a lot of ‘yes’, ‘no’, and pointing. That doesn’t come from a life of ease.”

Again, Astrid felt that weird churning in her gut. A deep sense of grief for this friend that was still mostly a stranger. How lonely must he be? Talking about his parents had led him to tears. 

If she could give him a brief moment of happiness, it would be worth it. 

—

She was thrilled to see that Dagur was busy today. With what, she had no idea. She really didn’t care, as long as he was leaving her the hell alone. 

The Rider came around the bend, and she smiled and waved at him. 

He raised his hand and awkwardly waved back. 

She stooped to grab a parcel from inside her cart, and pulled out the thorny vines with purple berries he had asked for. “Your order, good sir.” 

“Thank you, Astrid,” he began before Toothless snatched the bouquet out of her hands. “How much do I owe you?” 

“5 gold please!” 

There was mirth in his voice as he said, “I guess you are taking to heart what I said about the treasure.” He held his hand out, and five golden, shiny coins fell into hers. 

“And…” she crouched again, and this time, gave him a small satchel brimmed with silver coins. “Your change.” 

He sighed. “Astrid…” 

“You said you were running out of silver!” She protested. 

“Yes, but I don’t want more.” 

“Too bad, if you want to be my friend, you’ll accept it.” 

He hummed, amused that she was using that on him. “Very well, Miss Hofferson.” He waved his hand over the satchel, and it disappeared. 

“Now that our business is concluded,” Astrid beamed. “Let’s go to Gobber’s!”

He tilted his head. “Are you so eager to be rid of me?” Another one of his weird jokes. 

“Nope! I just think you’ll find something interesting there, is all.”  

He watched her waltz in front and take hold of Toothless’ reins, and then start leading them over to the forge. 

“You are eager about something, in fact,” he noted. 

She tilted her head and nodded, still grinning. 

Gobber greeted them boisterously as they entered. “Rider! Astrid! What a surprise!” 

“How could this be a surprise?” Rider asked. “I come to see you at the same time every day.” He slid off his horse, but stayed drawn back, hesitant. “What is going on?” 

Gobber gave him a reassuring smile. “Astrid commissioned me on your behalf.” 

He ducked his head. “Me? What would she possibly have you do for me?” 

“Your leg,” she explained. “Your fake one. It hurts, doesn’t it?” 

He took a step back, shoulders hunching. “How could…?” 

“Gobber has a missing leg too,” she gestured. “But he doesn’t walk as slow or staggering like you do. We want to help.” 

He shook his head. “I deserve no such kindness.” 

“Barnstat!” Gobber hollered. “Every man deserves the chance to walk properly if his body allows it!” 

“But—” 

“No buts!” Gobber shook a hook at him. “You’ve been coming here for three years. You’ve pumped money into our village that no one has acknowledged. Snotlout won’t shut up about the sword you gave him, and Fishlegs’ uncle hasn’t stopped giggling since he saw that book! You’re getting a new leg! Are you going to sit down and let me measure? Or are we gonna do this the hard way?” He twisted his hook, menacingly. 

The Rider was stunned silent for a very long time. Slowly, he took a step forward, limping as he did. “Very well.” 

“Great!” Gobber grabbed a stool and brought it forward. “Take a seat.” 

Like everything he did, the Rider hesitated before sitting down. As he sat, he threw his cloak back so it would be out of the way. Then he gathered the front and tied it up into a loose knot. 

This revealed his legs, up to the top of his thighs. Almost normal human legs, but long and gangly. His right leg had armor, greaves, or greave, since it was just the one, and a sabaton. The outside was a shiny, black metal, while the joints were covered in a dark chainmail. The left leg, however, was made of wood. Starting just below the knee, a bundle of sticks gathered together with rope, tightly woven to truncate in a point to walk on. 

It simply couldn’t be comfortable. 

“Lad, did you make this?” 

He shook his head. “It’s what I was given.” He rolled up the black fabric of his pants to reveal the snow white skin of his knee. Closer to the amputation, the skin became scarred, gnarled, blistered and bloody. It was nauseating to look at. 

Gobber frowned. “And you say you lost it a long time ago?” 

The Rider nodded. 

“The wound looks fresh.” 

“Yes. A part of the curse.” He reached down and grabbed hold of the bundle of sticks that made up his leg. “As is this.” He pulled, making a horrible squelching noise. The Rider audibly whimpered, dislodging the sticks from his skin. The ends were pointed, and had been held in place by being stabbed into his leg, like some sort of horrible pin cushion. 

“Oh dear Odin…” Gobber looked sick. 

Astrid couldn’t breathe. Her poor friend, walking around with this unimaginable pain. No wonder he walked the way he did! 

Astrid grabbed his hand, curling her fingers around them and ignoring the shivers that ran down her spine. “You don’t deserve this.” 

“But—” 

“No. No, I don’t care what you did. 300 years of this is inhumane. Please let us help you.” 

He looked at his leg, almost numbly, as drips of dark blood fell from the multiple stab wounds.  

Gobber got up and got a bucket and rag. “You know, I don’t feel right about giving you any kind of prosthesis until that wound heals.

“I don’t think it will,” said the Rider. 

“Not if it’s being stabbed over and over with a dozen spears!” Gobber shook the cursed pegleg. “I’m gonna make you a proper one, but it might take a couple of days. I’ve got a temporary one you can use in the meantime.” And he chuckled the leg in the forge. 

“Gobber! It’s black wood!” Astrid shouted, in vain. 

The leg caught fire immediately, exploding in bright eye-burning green flames that filled the forge and licked the ceiling. The burst sounded like the scream of a dying woman. Astrid and Gobber fell to the floor, covering their faces. As the flames died down a foul smelling smoke filled the room. 

Gobber took the charred leg with some tongs and threw it into the back yard. 

“I’m sorry,” said the Rider. 

Astrid coughed and fanned the air in front of her face. “Not your fault.” 

“But—” 

She poked his chest, right on the sternum. “Not. Your. Fault!” 

He didn’t argue. Just fell silent. 

Astrid took the rag and bucket that Gobber had brought out and started cleaning the wound. 

“Careful, my blood is poisonous,” he warned.

“So are a lot of things on this island, and yet I pick them. I don’t have any open cuts on my hands. Don’t worry.” 

He fidgeted with his hands, rubbing his thumb on his index finger. 

“Does this hurt?” 

“No, it feels…quite nice.” 

“‘Cause you’re not bein’ stabbed!” Gobber exclaimed. “I’m gonna have nightmares about this for weeks!” 

“Again, I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Astrid comforted, bandaging the wound. “So you made a grave mistake 300 years ago. The person that’s really at fault here is the one that did this to you. So…who is it? Can you remember?” 

The green fire that was his eyes went dim, as he raised a hand to his head. “...it was…my best friend.” 

“What kind of friends do you keep?” Scoffed Gobber. 

“Well, you two.” 

“Besides us,” Astrid smiled. “Can you remember anything else about them?” 

“...betrayal,” he whispered. “Blood spilt…he…he knew magic.” He shook his head. “That’s all I can remember.” 

“Well, that’s certainly a start,” Supplied Astrid. 

“I got it,” Gobber snapped her fingers. “Sounds to me like you betrayed and killed your best friend. There’s many a folklore that says that a mage’s blood is powerful, even after death. If true, his blood would have been on you, and also seeped into the ground. Ta-da, curse solved!” Gobber stated, plainly, seemingly not bothered by the idea of the Rider being a murderer. 

“It makes sense,” said the Rider. “I just…wish I could remember. I would pray for forgiveness. But I don’t even remember what I did exactly.” 

Astrid patted his hands. “It’ll be alright. You’ve long served your time. Now, let us help you.” 

Gobber then took measurements. A few sitting down, and a few standing and using the counter for balance. 

At the end of it, Gobber brought out a standard peg leg with a leather cuff. He had to add a block to the bottom to make up for the extra height. 

“Alright lad, this attaches very simple. You just pull this cuff over your leg, and then pull the drawstrings nice and tight.” He did it for him as a demonstration. The Rider then straightened and bent his knee a few times to test it, then he carefully got up, keeping his weight on his good leg. Then he slowly balanced on both, and then took a step.

“Well?” Asked Gobber. 

“It's a relief. The pain is…so mild now.” He took another few steps, and Astrid noted happily that he wasn’t lurching like before. Just walking. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you.” 

Gobber waved him off. “That’s just the spare leg! I’ll have a right proper one for you in a few days.” 

The Rider held his hand out, offering a handshake. Gobber clasped his hand, only to have the Rider wrap his other hand around that one and squeeze. “I will forever be indebted to your kindness.”    

Gobber attempted to pull away, uncomfortable with the immense gratitude being laid on him.

But the Rider held firm. “I never would have had friends if you hadn’t invited me into town. Thank you, Gobber.” 

Gobber wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with his wrist. “Aye lad, you’re very welcome. Now stop before ye make me cry.” 

The Rider let go, and hummed fondly. 

“Wanna go show the others?” Astrid asked, eagerly.

The Rider nodded, and bid Gobber another fond farewell. 

They stopped at Fishlegs’, the twins, and at Heather’s. Each time, before any greetings, he pulled his cloak aside and pointed. “Gobber fixed my leg.” 

“Oh, how good for you!” Said Fishlegs. 

“Whoa, you had a wooden leg?” Said Tuffnut. 

“Lucky bastard,” said Ruffnut. 

“That Gobber sure is handy!” Said Heather. 

“Okay, and I care why?” Said Snotlout. 

Astrid didn’t have the heart to explain just how much pain the Rider had been in before the new leg. She wasn’t even sure how to explain the way the old leg had been attached. That would inevitably lead to more questions, and telling the others that she and Gobber theorized the Rider was a murderer was not a good idea. 

Maybe in a few…years. 

Or maybe never, if she and Gobber could solve the curse without their help. 

After tea, the Rider remained, not running away abruptly like he had been.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” She asked. 

“Oh,” he clenched his hand up by his mouth. “You have to get back to work.” 

“Well, eventually, yes, but that’s not what I meant.” 

He tilted his head at her, prompting her to go on. 

“There’s one more person I want you to meet. I’ve been telling her about you, and she’s eager to meet you.” She started heading down the road, and he followed, guiding Toothless patiently along as well. “She…it’s my mother.” 

The Rider hummed. “And…she is sick, correct?” 

“Yes.” Astrid swallowed. “No one knows with what. Gothi, the medicine woman, said she’s…” A lump got caught in her throat, and Astrid didn’t know how to continue. 

The Rider’s hand fell upon her shoulder, offering a warm gesture, despite the cold touch. 

“She’s dying,” Astrid whispered. “And there’s nothing we can do about it.” 

“I’m sorry,” the Rider said back, just as softly. 

“I don’t think this is curse related,” she clarified. “Just…something we don’t understand yet. Which almost makes it harder. Because no one knows what it is, no one knows if it’s contagious. And because of that…no one comes to visit her.” 

“That’s sad.” 

“I sit with her most evenings, after work. I’ve told her all about you. I thought she’d be worried, but she was just curious.” 

“That’s refreshing.” 

She smiled. “I’m sure!” 

She led him up to her little cottage. It was small, but had enough of a yard that she could garden. Every inch of soil around the cottage was teeming with plants and flowers. There was no guessing who lived there. 

“Very nice,” he commented, reaching out and touching some apricot roses growing around the door. 

“My mom planted this garden,” Astrid gestured. “She ran the flower stall, and taught me everything I know. I…actually don’t care about flowers all that much.” 

“Really?” His voice raised in surprise. 

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty and I care about them because of my mom, but…if it had been up to me, I would have had a different job.”

He leaned towards her. “What job?” 

“Well…I always liked fighting. I’m pretty handy with an axe. Maybe a guard or a hunter. Something with some action, you know?” 

“I see it.” He nodded. “You have a fighting spirit.” 

She smiled proudly, before beckoning him inside. “Mother, I’m home! And I’ve brought a guest!”

“Oh my! Is it the young man you’ve been telling me about?” Phlegma Hofferson’s harsh voice called from upstairs.  

The cottage had one large room and a loft. The large room had a kitchen, table, and sitting area. A small bed was tucked under the stairs. 

The Rider studied the room as Astrid went up the stairs. “I don’t know about the ‘young’ part…”

“Oh pish posh, he’s young at heart. Aren’t you, dearie?” 

The Rider ascended the stairs after Astrid, having to duck his head as he came up. 

Astrid beckoned him to sit in the empty chair, as she sat on the bed. 

Awkwardly, the Rider sat down, and then raised his gaze to meet Phlegma’s smiling, but ashen gray face. “Hello, Madam Hofferson.” 

“My! You are a fearsome one! I had almost forgotten. It’s been a while since I was able to look outside and see your arrival.” 

“...you do not seem scared.” 

She shook her head. “No, dear. I’m not. I’m at the stage of my life where I have more things to fear within me, than outside.”

The thought made Astrid feel cold. 

“I understand the feeling,” said the Rider. 

“I knew you would.” She closed her eyes and relaxed. “I was hoping Astrid would bring you to meet me sometime. I couldn’t bear leaving this world without getting the chance to speak with you.”

“Mother…” Astrid hated when she talked about her mortality. Phlegma had obviously accepted her fate, but Astrid just couldn’t. 

“I’m glad,” said the Rider. “Astrid has become a dear friend. Probably the best I’ve had. I would have been…saddened to have not met you when I had the chance.” 

Was he implying that she was his best friend? After only so many days? 

“My Astrid is such a loving girl. Her heart is so big. She loves everyone! No matter how tall or scary.” 

Astrid felt her lip twitch. “Well, not everyone,” She insisted. “Kinda hard to find love for Dagur.” 

Phlegma laughed. “I meant besides him, of course.” She sighed, a hard rattling breath settling in her chest. “Now Rider, tell me about yourself.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Do you live up in that big castle all by your lonesome?” 

He shook his head. “There are…several that dwell in the castle. Toothless, of course. And my parents. And…” he hesitated, but then didn’t finish the sentence. 

“And?” Astrid persisted. 

“And others. But we don’t speak.” 

That was news. 

“You have parents?” Phlegma asked, surprised. 

“Everyone seems surprised when I say that.” He tilted his head, and answered the inevitable question. “They are also cursed. They can’t leave. Toothless and I are the only ones that can.” 

“But you can’t leave the island, right?” Phlegma asked. “Like the rest of us?” 

“That’s correct. Even if I could, I don’t believe I would want to.”

“What’s your mother’s name, dear?” 

He paused, raising a hand to his head. It was heartbreaking to think he didn’t know immediately. “It’s Valka, and my father is Stoick. Stoick the Vast.” 

“My! What a mighty name! He must be a big man!” 

“He was, once. And I was small.” He tilted his head, seemingly thoughtful. “He would…pick me up, just by the back of the shirt. He was mad at me a lot.” 

Astrid was hesitant to make any noise, lest she distract him. It seemed like he was finally remembering his past. “...but he’s not mad anymore. He should be, but he’s not.” 

“What’s he like, then?” Asked Astrid. 

He bowed his head, his hands fidgeting awkwardly. After a minute, he spoke, and his voice held so much sorrow, Astrid thought he might just start crying again. “Gracious.”  

She came back around to the fact that his actions had caused the curse, allegedly, of course. 

But his father forgave him for it? A man who’s anger shone through his hazy memory, had forgiveness for his son. It was a discordant piece of information. She was pretty sure that if she betrayed and murdered Heather, which resulted in a curse on the whole island, her father would be pretty pissed at her. 

If he was still alive, that is. 

Astrid realized she had been lost in thought for a while as her mother prattled on. The woman could be an absolute chatterbox when she was feeling well. 

The Rider just sat there, as he seemingly listened to her mother. And he was listening intently, she realized, as he would nod his head at appropriate intervals, and slip in a question to encourage her to continue. 

The conversation was mostly village gossip, old gossip at that, since Phlegma hadn’t been out among people in a long time. 

Astrid feared that the Rider would get lost, but if he was, he didn’t show it. 

“Mother,” Astrid interrupted, as gently as possible. “I have to get back to the stall.” 

“Oh! Of course, dear.” 

“Can I stay?” Asked the Rider, first to Astrid, and then to her mother. “If you are not tired of my company.” 

Phlegma lit up with joy. “Oh my boy, I would love it if you kept me company!” 

“Are you sure?” Astrid asked. “That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to—” 

“Astrid, I told you, I’m happiest around people that talk to me without fear.” 

She couldn’t really find an argument against that. Really, it was wonderful he wanted to stay. They were both lonely people, desperate to connect to the outside world. 

But there was just this nagging feeling in her mind. Hazy memories of the same nightmare over and over, of the Pale Rider coming into her house and taking her mother away. 

It was what prompted this visit, and what prompted her to talk to the Rider in the first place. 

So the logical next step was to allow it. Leave him alone with her mother and see for herself that there was nothing to fear. 

“Okay,” Astrid breathed. “You can stay. But, come say goodbye to me when you head out, okay?” 

“I will,” he hummed. 

With anxiety coursing through her, Astrid went back to work, standing behind her stall and keeping her eyes trained on her house. 

Maybe an hour later, he emerged, fetching Toothless from where he was grazing on weeds from the cobblestone streets. Then, just as he promised, he came over to her stall. 

“Your mother yawned a few times. I decided to leave so she could rest.” 

There had been nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing! 

“Did you have a good chat?” 

“Oh yes!” He said, enthusiastically. “May I visit again?” 

Astrid gaped in surprise. “I…suppose. I’ll ask and see if she’s okay with it.” 

“She invited me,” he clarified. “I only thought it was right to ask you as well.” 

“I…don’t see why not. She needs company. And I’ve heard all her stories before. Yeah, I think she’d really like to have you visit.” 

“Thank you, Astrid.”

[munchkin1156]

HADM 13- Joel (pt 2)

A continuation of this post for earlier in this event! :D

As alwayssss, thank you to @hermitadaymay for organizing this event, please check out their fundraiser for Gamers Outreach if you have time!

Tws: Aftermath of alcohol, getting stalked (technically), Joel has a generally terrible time

Word count: 843

Enjoy!

The next thing Joel remembered, was waking up in bed.

He had a small bedroom, filled with mess, from the files and unfinished paperwork all over the floor, to the pin board covered in red yarn and snippets of photos or newspapers or even social media posts. His clothes were stuffed at random into the drawers, and he couldn't be in here without sneezing from some dust. Maybe that was the real reason he hadn't wanted a break. Because then he'd be forced to deal with cleaning up his room.

Yet he had an excuse for the next couple hours, and that was that his head hurt like hell, and the jumbled up memories from the previous night were slowly coming back to him. It wasn't a fun experience, to say the least, and the hangover faded quickly, simply because it could tell, or guess, what might happen to Joel if too much horrible stuff happened to him at once. His thoughts were running wild inside his mind, filled with panic and stress and confusion and horror, especially since that was the last thing he could remember from that evening.

What had happened then? What had he done? Did anyone else see someone put a horse head up there? Had it been a hallucination? Unanswered questions, that he had no clue of how to figure them out. Maybe the worst scenario for a detective to be in, especially one as professional as him. And he couldn't report to the office. They'd be really annoyed if he did that, and he'd probably get put on holiday even longer. That might be even worse than what he'd experienced last night.

Okay, no, nothing was worse than what he'd experienced last night, but that wasn't important. It was beside the point. He couldn't work with his materials right now, so he'd have to make do.

…But, since it was still early in the morning, and he was on holiday, and he did have a bad nights sleep, it would be fine to rest a little longer. Joel closed his eyes again, and tried to ignore the whirling trains of thought behind them.

But sleep did not come for him. Instead, there was a sudden shift in the air, and Joel felt a strong sense of unease as he lay. Uncomfortable, like someone was watching him. His eyes snapped open again, and he bolted upright, but of course there was nobody there. He was alone. Like always.

Huh. Maybe he was going crazy.

Joel's eyes drifted around the room, maybe in slight fear, or hope. Anything to get him out of this paranoid cycle. If something happened, then at least he'd know it wasn't for nothing, even if it made the case worse.

It took him a moment to notice what was off. It took him a moment to realise that the yarn on the board had moved. It took him a moment to realise what it said. It didn't take him any time at all to realise who it had been. Who else, in all honesty, would sneak into his apartment, just to spell out "hi" with the red yarn he reserved for cases, other than the very person he was hunting? Joel didn't have many friends, and definitely none who'd play a sick prank like this on him and expect to get away with it.

God. He felt like a dog, chasing his own tail. Soon he'd get dizzy and would have to slow down, but it would still be there, in the corner of his eye. Taunting him. Patiently waiting for him to get up and keep running. Usually, these cases gave him a thrill of excitement, following clues and tracking the culprit down when they thought they were too clever for him. But this one… This one felt like it was. That horse head, that message, in his own bar, in his own home, it made it a lot less fun, and a lot more personal. This person wasn't just messing with his work, they were going out of their way to mess with him specifically. Joel had no idea why, but it made it real hard to bloody forget.

There wasn't really anything to it. He'd have to think differently about this case, starting with himself. What place would he mess with himself next? Where he would definitely see it, definitely know that clue was for him? There were a couple different options, but only one of them really stood out.

The arcade store. He didn't go there as much now, but he used to play this one game called Frogger so much it ran out of zeroes to put on the highscore. That was so much of his childhood, so many memories, and if this- this person seemed to know him as well as they thought they did, that would be the next place to look. He better get dressed then. He had a long day ahead of him.

Anyway, it had been a while since he'd said hi to Etho.

. . .

Whaaaaat might possibly happen next? Who knows, guys, who knows. Least of all me :>

Taglist: @i-am-beckyu, @da3dm, @faeiyn-cant-write, @boiled-ginger-ale, @local-squishmallow, @akatthatwants2sleep, @vocal-nyx-cords

Taglist for just fics: @mushr00mgurl

See you tomorrow!

[gr0vndz3ro]

WIP

... Heyyyyy y'all lmao. I've been doing a little bit of writing again lately after a very long span of 0 inspiration. Starting working on some ideas for Bucky Barnes and wanted to share a snippet from a fic I'm working on. I hope you guys enjoy! (For old followers hi love y'all truly. I might revisit old stuff I had posted but I will not promise anything, and I hope you stay for the shift in content)

No name for the WIP yet but I'll probably update this post when I come up with one.

Neighbor Bucky (tfatws) x Reader

Warnings: None at this moment, may change for full fic. No use of Y/N

Word count: 526

The two of you sit on the fire escape connecting your neighboring windows, staring at the busy city below. Cars drive by as the two of you sit in this peaceful silence, a sense of calm taking over you. In this town of endless amounts of people, you’ve found this moment of calm, here under the cloudless sky, sitting next to your neighbor as you both take in the night. You look out, counting the stars as you feel the memories of your nightmare that woke you start creeping back in. You try reminiscing on good thoughts, but you can feel it isn’t as effective as it normally is. Before you can stop the words from coming out you say,

“What’s your favorite memory?” There is a beat of silence again and you regret that you had blurted them out. You were about to apologize when his voice cut your thought off.

“What?” You look away from the sky and your eyes meet him as you see the slight confusion on his face, brows furrowed in a gentle question rather than in frustration.

“Your favorite memory. Or it doesn’t have to be your favorite if it’s too hard to narrow down, but..” you take in a breath, the cool air refreshing to the tension in your chest, helping to soothe away the night you’ve had. “.. just a good one. That you remember. From before everything.” You slowly cut yourself off as you feel yourself rambling. This probably wasn’t the best to ask him, he’d lived most of his life as the Winter Soldier and had been in varying states of coherent in those years. Could he even remember anything from before? He’d barely had a life of his own since then to try to make new memories. Doubts of whether or not this was a bad question start to take over, and you contemplate if you should brush it off and apologize for making it weird.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer tha-”

“When I was younger my mom…” A silence took over the both of you, your breath caught in your throat as you hadn’t been expecting a response. You glance at him, giving your attention, as you hang to his words waiting for him to continue. “She used to love cooking and baking. This was way before the war and the mandatory rations and such. She would make these pancakes for me and my lil sister, though I doubt she was old enough to enjoy them really being as small as she was. But it was my favorite. I’d wake up early, the whole house smelling like her cooking, and I’d go out and sit at the counter and watch as she’d sing her current favorite songs and just.. float around the kitchen. There wasn’t much alone time I had with her before she passed, but …” The pause was heavy as you could almost see the memory replaying before his eyes. “But those early mornings were always ours. That would have to be one of my favorites” He finished as he looked over at you. Such emotion held in those eyes as you held each other’s stare, each not wanting to be the first to look away.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hello! I know you've written a lot of Jack Kelly lately, so please disregard this if you're feeling burnt out. I was wondering if you would be in the mood to write a Jack Kelly x reader where the reader is scarier to the newsies than Spot but during the strike, she and Jack start working closely together and it's clear that she's not all that bad, just tough on people that do her dirty.

“Who would have thought?” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: you and Jack are up all night together planning the way you’re going to stop the wagons. The morning after, the wagons have successfully been stopped, and the pair of you share an intimate moment of rest, as you realise you don’t always have to protect yourself from everyone.

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 908

Warnings: none, fluff, probably some typos you know meeee

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You sat together in a dimly lit alley that separated Brooklyn and Manhattan, with a map spread across a couple upside down milk crates.

Jack glanced at you, his cap casting a shadow over his eyes. “So, you got a plan?”

“Why am I here, again?” You sighed.

“Because, Y/N, you want better pay too, whether you admit it or not. And people listen to you.”

You studied the map intently, tracing the routes of the wagons with your finger. “Your area’s the smallest and theres more of you, I think your boys can handle that, we should be in Queens for when the bell rings.”

Jack nodded. “We need distractions, too. Get 'em looking the other way while we make our move.”

“Next time you speak, can you make it something helpful?” You snapped, his brows furrowing in response.

Hours passed, and the alley echoed with the soft murmur of your voices, punctuated by the occasional sound of a distant shout from the newsies preparing for the confrontation. The adrenaline built, but amidst the planning, a shift occurred – a subtle transformation in your disposition.

Jack stole a glance at you, a genuine curiosity in his eyes. “You know, you're kinda nice.”

“Nice?” You repeated.

“Yeah, you’re actually not as scary as everyone says.”

You looked up from the map, meeting his gaze. The walls you'd carefully built around yourself seemed to soften, if only for a moment. “We all got our roles to play, Jack.”

Jack leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “I've heard the stories. Brooklyn's enforcer, they call you. Meaner than Spot.”

A rare chuckle escaped your lips. “Spot's got his way of leading, I got mine. Keeps the streets in order.”

As the night wore on, the initial skepticism that Jack harbored began to dissipate. The shared purpose, the planning, and the unspoken camaraderie melted the icy reputation that preceded you.

Jack's playful banter continued, each word chipping away at the tough exterior you'd carefully crafted. “You gotta have a soft spot somewhere in you, you know.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “Maybe, but you'll never find it.”

The atmosphere shifted as the night wore on, the impending confrontation with the wagons looming over your plans. You were up late into the night, and then early into the morning, making sure every newsie knew what the plan was, in order to actually make this strike a success.

***

As you approached the Manhattan lodging house, Jack, with his cap pulled low to shield his eyes from the early morning sunlight, greeted you with a half-smile. The adrenaline that fueled the morning’s activities still pulsed through your veins, a shared victory in your tired yet satisfied eyes.

Jack spoke first, his voice raspy from the long night. “Well, we did it. Those wagons won't be rolling through today.”

You nodded, a sense of accomplishment washing over you. “Yeah, we did do it.”

The night's successful plan to halt the wagons had taken its toll, leaving both of you fatigued and in need of a moment of respite. Jack's room offered a brief refuge, away from the clamor of all the other newsies sharing stories and reveling in the victory.

As you entered, the worn-out furniture and scattered newspapers created a cocoon of familiarity. Jack, with a reassuring smile, gestured toward his bed, teasing you slightly, “Sit down, tiger. We've earned a break.”

The weariness weighed on your shoulders, and without resisting, you sank onto Jack's bed. You and Jack exchanged a glance, the unspoken acknowledgment of shared victories and silent pride.

Jack, with a knowing smile, settled beside you, his presence offering a sense of security that allowed your guard to momentarily slip away.

As your eyes fluttered closed, your body drifted closer to his. The protective aura he exuded made it easy to surrender to the exhaustion that had accumulated throughout the night. For once, it felt like you didn't have to protect yourself. Your head gently found its way to his chest, falling asleep curled up on him.

Unbeknownst to you, Jack, too, succumbed to the weariness. The room, draped in a calm silence, cradled the two of you in a moment of reprieve.

Time slipped away as both of you rested. Yet, as the morning sunlight continued its ascent, your brain had finally caught up to you. Panic momentarily gripped you as you realised you had fallen asleep with Jack.

Startled, you jumped off of him, the remnants of sleep dissipating quickly. “I— I shouldn't have—“

But before you could finish your sentence, Jack's reassuring voice cut through your anxiety. “Hey, settle down, tough girl. Our secret. You deserve this.“

His words lifted the weight off your shoulders. Jack pulled you back into his embrace, dispelling the fear that had momentarily clouded the room. Jack's arms wrapped around you once more, holding you close as you let your eyes fall shut again. You got comfortable, laying on his body, his fingers beginning to trace patterns on your back, causing you to let out a relaxed sigh.

“Who would have thought? Your soft spot is here, in my bed.” He whispered, teasing you.

“Wrong. I don’t have one, remember.” You mumbled, a small smile tugging on your lips.

“Yeah, sure.” Jack laughed.

[librarysekai]

𝓦 inter 𝓗 ues

coming of age, adulthood

In this day and age, hard-earned money is every adults' priority.

None of that was at all different for Mafuyu Asahina, your average twenty-two year old.

Mafuyu fixed her gaze outside the window of her apartment, massaging the side of her neck with her hand. She rubbed her tired eyes and stepped out the door.

She would always take a bus as transportation on the way to work, which meant she had to be attentive as to when her stop was, as ordering a taxi to take her somewhere wasn’t something she trusted too much.

It was the same as always, try to walk through the crowded tight space in a bus and find an unoccupied seat. Mafuyu nearly tripped on her way. “Sorry,” she mumbled under her breath to the person behind her.

She found an empty seat and swiftly sat down, sapped.

Riding a bus on her way to work, she’d been lost in her own cluttered and messy thoughts, And truly, nothing's ever been stable for her, if truth be told, she's surprised she even got an apartment all to herself. Mafuyu’s not even completely done organizing all her things so far in the new apartment she’s rented, but that's not what she's focused on, at least not right at this present moment.

The ambience became silent, except for the pattering of the rain against the roof and the bus tires shuffling against the road covered in gravel. Normally, that wouldn't be considered silence, but she was with no one else but all her thoughts for the first time in what seems like forever. All the thinking she'd ever done was when she was by herself. Her heart felt burdensome, something such as independence—it was such a new world ready for her to stumble upon.

She was preparing her act for work as usual, the routine she’d done everyday on the way to work refreshed the memories of her school days, acting all charismatic and perfect. She’d always take a specific bus on her way out, which was filled with people alike at this early hour in the morning, those on their way to school or work. She worked at a bakery. She figured it was a good decision since it wasn’t too far, so she didn’t have to travel a long distance or wake up too early. Stepping into a bakery during the winter, especially when it’s filled with Christmas decorations, could probably make up for all these worries about adulthood and college she’s having.

Prior to all of this, she used to live with Kanade Yoisaki, who let her stay at her house after running away and confronting her emotionally abusive mother. However, Mafuyu had given a word to Kanade that she’d move out as soon as she saved up enough money to financially assist herself through college and rent. Kanade, being Kanade, assured her that she could stay as long as she wanted to. However, Mafuyu stood firm on this choice, but guaranteed her they would stay in contact no matter what.

Mafuyu moved a few cities away from Shibuya, where she initially lived before deciding to go to college. The reason why she moved was to feel a sense of freedom, yet it obviously wasn’t so easy.

The sharp chilliness of a December morning and the heater in the bus she rode in melted into her skin, like a sponge in contact with liquid. When the bus stopped and announced the destination she had to be at, Mafuyu livened up and realised she had to get off the bus and get to work. She grabbed her bag and hastily hurried off of the bus.

Mafuyu worked at the front desk of a bakery; most of the time, all she did was hand out dessert and say “Here's your cake!” until her shift was over. All she wanted was to pay rent properly, so it wasn’t all that terrible for her, she could be in worse conditions for all she knew. In her point of view, as long as she could pay the bills and have a good salary, things would be alright for her.

Arriving at work, she grabbed a hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair into the usual ponytail all her co-workers recognized her in. She walked over to the front desk and took a sip of water to wake her up.

She continued her shift as always, until she heard her phone ringing from her bag. “Huh?” she muttered, turning her head to face it. She grabbed her phone from her bag, then turned to her co-worker. “May I have a quick break? I’ll be right back.” She asked. “No problem.”

Mafuyu ran away from the front desk and sighed, clutching her phone as she answered the call she got. “...Kanade?”

“Thank you for picking up.” The quality of Kanade’s voice wasn’t the best, however she was comprehensible enough for Mafuyu to recognize her. “Mafuyu, I hope I’m not interrupting too much.” “No, everythings fine.” She smiled lightly.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Kanade, you know I’ve always admired your consideration for those around you. Despite what I’ve seen and gone through, your kind words never fail to strike warmth in my heart.”

Mafuyu felt passion in her words. Something in her felt different, it’s like all these words just suddenly flew like a waterfall out of her mouth. She let out a sigh and spoke again. “I’ll get back to my shift now.” “Okay, Mafuyu. Come to me when you need anything. If you need spare money, don’t hesitate to ask me. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself even if people say you’re grown up.”

Mafuyu hung up the phone without delay, coming to the realization she had to get back on track and focus on her shift, she dusted away lint from her sweater with her hand and ran back to the front desk.

The girl on the other line, Kanade, stared back at the ceiling with an almost bored expression. She didn’t exactly envy Mafuyu, however it always felt like everyone was so ahead of her. She does want to get a job soon, but she’s so comfortable in her current lifestyle, in her perspective. The only way she’s living at home is her grandma who sends her money for rent and the income from music she posts online with her music circle, it’s the same as it was a year ago, and the year before that.

Well, she hasn’t been making much music recently. Not like all of it is being made by her only. She misses the people she used to make music with back when she was just around eighteen, including Mafuyu and two other people. The two are expectedly already busy with getting their life together now, so things aren’t the same as they used to be. Yet, she’s glad that they can occasionally still get together.

Kanade’s lamenting was then interrupted by a doorbell ringing. She went to see who’d want to visit her at this time. “Oh, it’s just you..” She spoke with a calm tone. Her caretaker, Honami Mochizuki, was at the door.

Kanade would sometimes forget to take care of herself, so Honami would visit her once a week or once every two weeks to check on her. “Kanade! I’ve missed you, how have you been?” She said, with that kind and empathetic charm everyone around her loved dearly.

She let out a smile, “I’m doing fine. I was recently on the phone with Mafuyu, she’s moved some cities away and I guess she’s studying college there too. I’m proud of her yet I miss her.” Kanade said, with her usual tired voice.

“I get how you feel, it’s difficult to be away from someone you care about. Come with me, I’ve gotten us a treat to share.” Honami walked to Kanade’s kitchen as she followed her alone. “I’ve brought you some apple pie.” Kanade fidgeted with her hair as she chuckled.

“Some things just never change. I’ve known that as your favorite since you were seventeen.”

She smiled blithely at this statement as the smell of pie filled the air, grabbing a kitchen knife and cutting a slice of pie for Kanade to have. “So, you were on the phone with Mafuyu right? How is she doing now?”

Kanade drew a deep breath. “It feels like I just woke up one day and she was just magically this independent. I feel like a mother watching her child grow up.”

“She couldn’t have done it without you, you know? You saved her life, she’d be nowhere without you.” Honami said, as she grabbed plates and utensils. She knew Kanade’s residence like it was her own home. Kanade’s face lit up at this statement.

“The metaphor you made earlier feels like the truth, you’ve always been determined to save Mafuyu and make sure she’s okay, just like a mother. You need to realise you should take care of yourself first now. There’s only so much you can do, don’t be so focused on saving others.” Honami was like a mother to her, the stereotypical girl-next-door that just wanted others to get along. She was basically telling Kanade that she shouldn’t have to light herself on fire to make provision for others' warmth.

Her heart warmed at her words, she couldn’t believe she could have a girl such as Honami in her life. The two continued eating, and all Kanade could do was smile at her words. Perhaps she was right, she wanted to make a change in her life after all.

Some time later, the two of them were washing the dishes from earlier and yesterday. “Kanade, I just want to know, are you still surviving off of instant ramen?” Kanade sighed, “Every now and then, up to today somehow.” She admittedly told her. The tone of her voice as she told her gave off a sense of shame.

“However, sometimes I’ll order takeout or try simple recipes like you suggested to me. Thanks for helping me with that.”

Honami simpered, as if she’d succeeded at a task. “I’m pleased with your improvement, I know you may not realise it, but you’re gradually improving day by day.”

“You always manage to comfort me with the exact words I need.” “It’s ‘cause I’m psychic.” Honami jested. “Just kidding! It’s just…owing to the fact I know you that well.”

Kanade quietly chuckled as Honami’s head leaned onto her shoulder. “So would you like me to stay for a bit longer or should I get going?”

“You can stay as long as you’d like. I could use some company right now.” “Understandable.”

This current situation is quite calming, Mafuyu on the other hand wasn’t exactly different, as she knew how to act at work to come off as charismatic.

Yet, cash is still an issue, Mafuyu didn’t want to be someone who had to constantly stress over financial causes. Mafuyu could figure things out if she tried hard enough, but things felt near impossible sometimes.

Even with this, Mafuyu knows this is part of living. She’s moved to a new step in life, and even with all the responsibility and struggles, it felt better than where she was a few years ago. This road of recovery was pretty much the only source of relief Mafuyu had for herself. And through this, she promised herself that she’d only ask Kanade for money if it was absolutely necessary, as she didn’t want to cause concern to others.

In life, you can never be at a definite state of peace. Mafuyu is desperate for autonomy and success, so she’s working hard and making her way through being an adult and finding a sense of identity. Kanade wants to improve and be better than she was back then, so she’s slowly making steps to improve herself and break unpleasant habits from before. But even with all of this, it feels a lot better than where they were in the past.

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 10: Cannibals

The woods weren’t as empty as they would have liked. 

“People everywhere,” Nancy mutters with disgust. She looks great in her plaid coat, striding ahead of them. “Vultures.”

“They’re here to look at a crime scene,” Eddie points out. Fitting for the weather, he’s wearing his Uncle Wayne’s old coat, something huge and dark that smells of cloves. He’s got Chrissy’s hand in his and swings it jauntily as they stroll along, as though they’re on a date in the park. “Aren’t we also here to look at a crime scene?”

“We’re not here to gawp,” Nancy says fiercely, as yet another group of people can be spotted wandering through the trees. Chrissy grips Eddie’s hand and feels briefly guilty. This really isn’t their place. 

“Maybe we should have gone with the others to the library,” Chrissy murmurs quietly to Eddie. She hadn’t been expecting the phone call so early this morning, her brother shouting for her at the bottom of the stairs. But there was weirdness afoot in Hawkins again and the party had been hurriedly assembled. “I don’t know what use we are out here.”

“Steve might have been better,” Eddie agrees. “In case this is magic…do we think that it’s magic?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy says tersely. “He didn’t seem to think so.”

“He thinks beastie,” Argyle chimes in, trailing behind. He’d been reluctant to even come, which Chrissy can understand. This is not how she’d expected to be spending her weekend. “Which is why I’m here.” 

“Chrissy and Eddie are cover,” Nancy says, sounding thoroughly tired of them all. Chrissy occasionally feels sorry for her - at the end of the day, they’re still Robin’s Slayerettes, and that means they’re not exactly the crack team that Nancy would have liked. “Argyle is here to use his super senses and I’m here to make sure none of you get eaten in case.”

“At least there’s plenty of other options,” Eddie says, watching the curious party ahead of them. “Buffet style. Hey, do we know exactly where this campsite is?”

Because they’ve been walking through the woods for fifteen minutes now, the gray October sky pushed out by the thick canopy of trees. The woods in Hawkins cover a vast expanse, bordering the town on all sides. It brushes against the high school, it wraps around the trailer park, it’s visible from Chrissy’s bedroom in Loch Nora.

“I don’t know how we’re cover,” Chrissy says and Eddie squeezes her hand. 

“Innocent young couple on a walk,” he says and then makes a face. “Into a wood where four people recently went missing. Not great. But I think they were hoping to use your���you know, thing?”

“Ah,” Chrissy says heavily. “My thing.” 

No wonder they’re the team that’s been sent out into the woods. Because when a party of six go into the woods on Thursday night and two of them emerge, blood-stained and hysterical, on Saturday morning, it’s a clear sign that something needs investigating. 

“We just have to find the damn campsite first!” Nancy hollers over her shoulder. 

“The police actually doing their jobs,” Eddie muses, as they follow in Nancy’s quick footsteps. “Who knew?”

“Be nice,” Chrissy chides. Unfortunately, on a few occasions, the Hawkins Police have made their jobs a little harder by interfering, trampling evidence or arresting the wrong suspect. Hopper is in their corner, the only one privy to the truth about their town, but he can only do so much. There’s too much for one man to cover up without people noticing. 

But in this particular case, the officer in charge has locked it down pretty well. The location of the campsite has been kept a well-guarded secret, and so far the two survivors have been hidden away at the local hospital, with police watching their doors. Chrissy wishes she could tell them that they don’t need to fear this - whatever killed their friends can’t walk through the front doors. It probably has no need to leave the woods. 

Especially with all of these willing, interested parties…which is why Nancy is here. 

Argyle stops abruptly behind them and when Chrissy turns back, she can see he’s got his nose raised to the air. 

“Got something?” she asks, as Eddie calls for Nancy to stop. Argyle inhales deeply - his senses aren’t as strong as when he’s in wolf form but he can still hear, see and smell things that the rest of them couldn’t even dream of. 

“I think so,” Argyle says and then wrinkles up his nose. “Definitely blood.”

“Yay,” Eddie says, so completely deadpan that Chrissy isn’t quite sure if he’s joking or not. But Nancy is stomping back this way, so they follow Argyle as he takes them through a clump of bushes. 

It’s out of the way - no wonder no one else has found it. They have to push through thick greenery to find the clearing and the first sign that they’re not about to head off a cliff is the flash of neon yellow. 

The campsite has been cordoned off by police tape…or what’s left of it. Eddie nudges at a scrap of tent fabric with his toe, looking disappointed. Aside from the flattened grass and the odd stray bit of debris, the site is empty. The bright police tape is the only sign that anything happened here at all. 

“I suppose the police took most of it away,” he says despondently. Argyle paces around the clearing, still focused. 

“This does not smell good,” he says finally. Nancy pushes herself up from where she’s been investigating some of the items scattered around the camp. Some of it is ordinary - a chocolate wrapper, a tent peg - but some of it shouldn’t be here. 

“There’s too many pieces of the tent,” Nancy says worriedly, rubbing her fingers against the scrap in her hand. “Far too many…”

“Yeah,” Eddie says in a strange voice. He’s staring down at his hand, all jokes faded away. “Generally what happens when something shreds the tent to get at what’s inside.”

Unlike some of the others, the piece that Eddie is holding is stained with blood, rust red against the thick material. Argyle just looks repulsed - he clearly tracked the strong smell of blood here. 

“So they are dead,” Chrissy says, heart sinking. This is what she hates about this job. Somehow they’re always just a little too late to save someone. Even with her visions she doesn’t always know when something is coming. 

“Shit,” Nancy curses and digs a plastic bag out of her pocket. “Okay, all evidence gets bagged up. We need to find something that can lead us to whatever this thing is.”

They poke around in the undergrowth until Chrissy’s fingers start to grow cold. Who goes camping in September anyway? 

But then she finds something trapped under the wet mass of leaves, black and shiny against the slick ground. 

They’re running. She can see it, how they race through these woods - the exact same ones that they’re standing in now. Eddie has her by the hand, fingers clenched tightly around her own, while Nancy easily keeps pace. She could effortlessly overtake them both, disappearing through the dark woods before either of them could protest about it. But it’s Nancy and she wouldn’t leave them.

“Where are the others?” Eddie shouts. 

“I didn’t see them!” Nancy says to Chrissy’s horror. “Don’t stop. We can’t help them if we’re dead.”

“Do we get out of the woods?” Eddie asks, almost stumbling over a vine. Chrissy just manages to veer around it at the last second. “What the fuck do we do?”

“Get out first!” Nancy shouts but Chrissy can hear the strain in her voice. Their first plan failed. They’re running for their lives. Whatever they’ve been hunting in these woods has found them first. 

“Shit!” Eddie says furiously before an unholy screech behind them cuts him off cold.

“Move faster,” Nancy says urgently. She’s twisted her head back to look as she runs, her Slayer reflexes and grace allowing her to do so. “Don’t look back!”

“It’s behind us, isn’t it?” Chrissy asks, her voice coming out in a pant. She hasn’t run quite like this since their coach last year made them run laps. “We can’t outrun it!”

Nancy skids to a halt, pulling a knife out of her jacket. Chrissy tries to stop and finds that Eddie won’t let her. 

“Get out!” Nancy shouts and Chrissy tugs against Eddie’s grip. She’s made the mistake of looking back at their friend and there’s something dark, with leathery skin and glinting eyes up in the trees. 

“We can’t leave her!” she shrieks and Eddie merely stops and lifts her up instead. He’s done it before, pulling her into his arms, sweeping her legs up to cradle her but that’s always been to take her to bed. Now he does it with a frightening look on his face, that he won’t be stopped or reasoned with. 

“She’s our friend!” Chrissy argues but Eddie just shakes his head. 

“She can fight and we can’t,” he says. His arms are like a vice grip around her waist, keeping her in place. “I’m not leaving you to be eaten by that…that thing.”

The monster behind them is little more than a shadow as it tracks Nancy from the trees, nothing more than the glow of its eyes as it circles her. Chrissy tries to crane her neck to get a better look, anything that might help identify it. But all she sees are tattered wings, long, twisted hands digging into the bark of the tree. 

“Chrissy!” 

This voice is too close and Chrissy slams back into her own body to find herself cradled in Eddie’s arms. His look of relief almost makes her want to cry and she wonders how long she’s been gone in the vision. 

“What was it?” Nancy asks urgently, crouching by Chrissy’s side but Eddie just pushes her back. He can’t bear anyone being close to Chrissy when she’s had a vision. Nancy means well but she only wants what Chrissy has learned. 

“Give her some space!” he snaps and cradles Chrissy’s head with his palm. “Chris, baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Chrissy says. She’s really fucking not. She keeps hoping that maybe one day this will all get easier but judging by her friends’ concern, it’s only getting worse. She remembers being bent down, plucking something out of the grass. She must have fallen when the vision hit her. 

She raises her hand because whatever she grabbed is still tucked tightly in her palm. Her friends all stare as she opens her hand, and she takes in their faces as they try to work out what it is. She suspects that Argyle must already know - or think he knows - as he breathes in. 

“Is it another piece of fabric?” Nancy asks finally, with a frown. “It’s not green, like the others…”

“Someone’s bag?” Eddie asks and prods at it with the one hand that isn’t still supporting Chrissy. Chrissy knows what he feels: the smoothness of it, how supple and strangely familiar it is. It’s not fabric. It’s the only piece of the monster that they have and who knows how it came to be here. Who knows what it cost one of the campers to cut it off. 

“It’s skin,” Chrissy says. 

@hellcheerweek

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: In the early hours of the morning Location: The Jones household basement Feat: @faustianbroker & @eldritchaccident Warnings: None on the list, but a large beast does get stapled back together Summary: What happens when a phone call becomes a visit

The downfall of having a physical form was, of course, the risk of damage.

It was a risk Leviathan had happily taken in stride for centuries, and it had never really bitten the demon in the ass too badly until now. The monstrous, semi-aquatic creature was tucked away in the dark recesses of a damp cave that sat along the coast of another dimension, its sides rising and falling with fluttering irregularity. Every once in a while the silence would be broken by the sound of scales dragging across stone as it repositioned itself, battered body aching and bleeding blue onto the cavern floor. It didn’t have much time to make good on the deal it had been forced into accepting, it knew. It had to move soon, but it was in too much pain to even try. They had cornered it here, a half dozen of them, bearing down upon it with ferocity that it knew came from fear. But they wouldn’t kill it, they wouldn’t stoop to that level. No, they had other ideas. They would still make use of Leviathan yet. There was little sense in wasting the talents of one of their own kind, after all, like Leviathan had wasted Wyvss’Kgorr’s. So, with teeth cutting into its neck and its spine threatening to shatter under the pressure, it had accepted the deal. The other demons left it then, satisfied with the results of this single-use league, and went back to their respective dimensions, likely to never coordinate with one another in such a way again. 

Leviathan would be proud of causing such a reaction once it felt less like it was on the brink of death.

There wasn’t a way to tell how much time had passed here, cut off from the starlight as it was, but every moment that passed stacked an additional brick of unease on the wall that the demon was trying to build around itself. All of this had happened because it cared too much, because it was too curious for its own good. It wouldn’t let such things get in the way again, it told itself, even if it did have to return to Wicked’s Rest. It wouldn’t (it probably would). Laying there in the pitch darkness, Leviathan was acutely aware of a sudden tug in its chest. It lifted that massive head, many eyes blinking out of sync as it focused on nothing but dark. A low growl started in its throat and it shifted lazily before wincing in surprise as a sudden light filled the cavern. It was only a pinprick at first, but it blinded the beast into submission, eyes squeezing shut and head rearing back, away from the offensive glare.

Those eyes remained shut, until it heard a sound. It wasn’t sure what the sound was, but it knew it had not come from itself. Blinking them open again, squinting against the light, Leviathan peered into the space in front of it while its eyes adjusted. That tug in its chest grew stronger, heart hammering against prehistoric ribs. The light was a ring in the air, and in the center of it, a dimmer source of illumination, and… a figure. A person. 

“... Teddy?”

—

Days of non-stop work, weeks of planning, months of research. All boiled down to a pin prick point of focus. Determination. Hope. Teddy’s blood, sweat, and tears ran rivers. But the ritual was working. Energy effused through every vein, every pore. Alight inside, illuminating their skin and the dim basement around them with an eerie blue glow. 

Teddy's breath felt like fire, each labored movement came at cost. This wasn't the kind of magic that naturally flowed through them. Summoning was much more Van’s thing than Teddy's. But there was no way they were going to risk hurting her, or even the possibility of bringing her near something so dangerous. 

Hell, Emilio was supposed to be next to them too, but Teddy wouldn't let that happen. Was supposed to be by their side in case shit went sideways, or they somehow dialed the wrong demon number. But he'd been through too much with Basil or whatever the fuck that demon was called. Still on bedrest. His favorite thing. So no. Teddy had to do this alone. Had to make contact. Had to hear from their father. 

And it was working. 

A hole ripped through the fabric of the universe, tore a portal through to another dimension. The brusk smell of the endless ocean burst through first. Unmistakable and nostalgic. Enough to know Teddy was doing something right. A hazy picture began to form next. A room too dark to see, something that Teddy couldn't allow their heart to race at. At that moment, it was like they were a twelve volt battery channeling a whole power plant through its cells. All while trying to recite the dictionary backwards from memory. 

And then its voice rang through. Rough, rich, and rumbling deep into Teddy's bones. 

“D-dad!” Ted called out, the portal shrank slightly as their focus faulted, their breath hitched until they could catch themself and steady it once more. A sizzle at their fingertips reminded them how little room for error there was, and how dumb of an idea it was to do this alone. 

— 

All those ideals of closing itself off from others crumbled in the hopeful and frightened face of Theodore Jones, who called out to it with a term of familiarity that it hadn’t heard in so long… It groaned, picking itself up off the floor of the cave and dragging that enormous body closer to the portal. Without any care for what might happen if its child lost focus and the portal closed on it, Leviathan stuck one bestial, webbed hand through the opening, gripping the edge of the luminous tear in reality as if it were merely a rung on a ladder. “Teddy,” it repeated slowly, eyes closing again as it hauled itself closer. It wasn’t sure which would be easier—helping Teddy make the portal stronger and larger, or shifting into something smaller. The latter would be advantageous to fitting into the basement of their home, which is what the background behind its child appeared to be. But the former wouldn’t be a bad idea either, so Leviathan summoned the last of its strength to do both at the same time. That handful of eyes snapped open again, glowing a bright ethereal blue as it tried to strengthen the connection with its own power, continuing to pull itself through the portal as seafoam bubbled up around it and sloughed off parts of its body. Shedding its previous form didn’t get rid of the wounds, and the pain of ripping them open drew a long, grating cry from its jaws as it slumped to the floor of the basement, thrashing its body farther into the room and curling its tail around itself. 

The spiny, webbed dorsal fin flattened as the creature let out a long, exhausted sigh. Gills flapped uselessly, but the lungs in its anatomy kept it from being in any immediate peril. Drying out would be unpleasant, but that was a concern for later. Leviathan was still slicked with blue blood, long head swinging around to face Teddy. Even among the perplexing layout of the demon’s features, pride could be seen. “Just… the person I wanted to see,” it rattled.

—

The portal wasn’t necessarily supposed to work like that. Was built to be more of a phone call than a bridge, but— Ahh. Leviathan’s energies pooled into the ritual, like the sea meeting a freshwater spring. A brackish backlash that somehow both soothed and burned with a familiarity that only stood to bolster Teddy’s resolve. It wasn’t expected, but they couldn’t help the elation, that quickly melted away into horror as they realized exactly what shape the beast was in. 

Leviathan slithered through and the gateway snapped shut. A sickening pop and rush of air and energy propelled Teddy backwards, falling into the great creature’s side with a soft thud. A moment of shock left the caster breathless, whirling around to take stock of what just happened. Long distance facetime connections don’t usually end with an instantaneous house call. 

A horrible part of Teddy’s imagination briefly wondered whether it was an improperly done ritual that had marred the Leviathan’s hide in such a vicious manner, that somehow this blood was their fault but the bite marks and claw wounds were more than enough evidence that something else was at play. 

“W-what happened— Dad are you okay??” Teddy’s voice croaked, their hands found its face, or at least what they could hold from such a small state beside it. “What can I do to help?” They were tired, spent from the spell, from the variant magic running through their veins, from the weeks of exhausting research and need to get it just right. But goddamn there wasn’t a fucking thing they wouldn’t jump up and do for Leviathan right then. 

Their dad was home, really properly there, not just on the other end of a half-thought dream. It looked at them with pride and Teddy’s heart soared with all the ache they’d carried these months without their father. Thinking they’d never get to see it again at all. Hell, if Levi wanted a few human sacrifices Teds could think of a few less than pleasant neighbors who hadn’t been so kind during Pride month. “What do you need?” 

—

The demon groaned and shifted its body weight again, but held its head still in the caster’s hands. “Fine, I’m fine,” it breathed, not wanting to worry Teddy more than it inevitably would. “They ah… well. It was as I feared.” The greater demons had taken issue, and had pursued it. “I was found.” It sucked in another long breath, closing its eyes again and just enjoying the feeling of being embraced. “It’s okay. I needed… to come back here. You… made that much easier,” it admitted, closing its eyes. “As for what I need… time. Just time.” It let out one last ragged sigh before blinking and swiveling its gaze to meet Teddy’s. 

The human emotions that had plagued it while it remained tethered to its ward had never fully left. Or rather, they lingered in spite of the involuntary compulsion to experience them having been removed, and now they only existed in the Leviathan’s breast because it wished it so. Hours ago, it had wanted to feel nothing, to return to numbness, but how could it still want that when Teddy was here in front of it, pressing their hands to its scales and asking how they could help? Void above, they’d never wanted anything but to help their father and make it proud of them, and Leviathan could have done much better in showing them just how proud it was. In the end, it had become cold. It told itself this was to spare them both a more painful goodbye, and while that might have been true, it was not the whole truth.

“I am sorry,” came the creature’s low, rumbling apology. “For everything. Please, tell me… how have you been? What’s happened since I had to leave?”

—

Fine wasn’t a word they’d use to describe the gouged flesh and torn hide, but Teddy also knew the beast well enough that it would deny any fussing and worrying unless given forcefully. Years ago, a young Theodore had tried to salve the demon’s wounds with stolen Hello Kitty bandaids, glittery stickers, and ‘healing’ pancakes with extra shrimp. But the Jones house never lacked for those dumb enough to pick a bone with them. So Teds got a lot of practice in. Even shapeshifting demons from before the dawn of time needed a little TLC after a rampage or two. 

This seemed worse, somehow. In a way that Teddy couldn’t put into words but felt deep in their gut. They didn’t want to leave its side, but some of the weeping wounds needed a little more than just time. “Too many— even for you to fight?” They guessed tentatively. A spark of undeniable skepticism lacing their sentence, as if anything in the great vastness of the void above and below could ever come close to the might their father commanded. The question was a good enough segue to step aside for a moment. Grab some tools and tenderly start to work. A needle and thread would do about as well as a kayak in a hurricane, so the next best thing would be a staple gun and duct tape. Emilio would be proud. 

“Made easi— I helped you? Dad I just— It wasn’t supposed to be a physical tear— that was all you.” Mend the big gaps, ignore the sounds of pain, wipe off anything too mucky, sanitize with vodka. Teddy’s brain went all methodical in times like this. An engine built to bring things back to calm, to safety. Even so, the talking was nice. Hearing his voice made them feel a little less alone in the world. Sure, Teddy had a pretty tight family they’d forged for themself here, but Levi was their dad. And that was— a bit of a sore subject. 

“Lots.” They admitted. Their mind flashed back to Canada. To the worst parts first. How many times they’d be injured, only to be saved by Leviathan’s blessing. How many times they nearly died. But it wasn’t all bad. “I uh— I think I’m gonna marry Emilio. That’s a big one. Didn’t really see that coming.” 

—

There was a long pause before Leviathan answered the first question, for the demon disliked the answer. “Yes. Even for me.” They had no natural predators but themselves, and while Leviathan had spent centuries battling ferocious creatures and armies of men, it still could not stand up to the might of six others at once. “But I am alive, so who really won?” it added with a grating sound that was maybe supposed to be a laugh. 

Dying, of course, had never been the true peril of being caught. Leviathan had wondered for a time if they would merely seek revenge, but knowing what it would do if faced with such a crisis of personal security and safety, it knew that it would have used that leverage for more than just death. The scenario with Wynne’s demon had been different—more had been at stake. Or, well, things outside of itself had been at stake. There had been no room for loopholes. But of course, it could not tell Teddy any of this.

The demon hissed softly in response to the staple gun, flinching away from it without wanting to, eyes tightly shut. “Maybe not,” it ground out, “but I didn’t have the strength to even contact you, much less… create a portal from the ground up. So yes. You gave me an anchor. You helped.” 

Lots. That was nondescript. But they’d have plenty of time for talking, it knew, so it didn’t worry too much that the full truth was being withheld for now. It had its own secrets, after all. “Marry?” it piped up, looking up at Teddy again. Humans were really pretty crazy about that kind of thing, weren’t they? It stood to reason that Teddy would be just as susceptible to romanticism. Hm. I suppose my faith in the slayer to look after you was well placed. It would have to thank him later. “That is very good news,” the demon purred, carefully lifting a front leg and brushing the back of a clawed, webbed toe against Teddy’s side. Its teeth were bared in something that was probably supposed to be a smile, though given the beastly form it had taken, it looked more like a grimace. Ah well. “I am… here for you. I’m not leaving again, Teddy.” There was a beat of powerful silence. “I promise.”

—

“Naaaah, I bet you had them all scared. Just a flinch and they’d be quaking in their eldritch boots.” A childish lie, hoping to be true. Teddy nuzzled in closer to the hardened scales and expanse of rough flesh. Worming their way between the folds of its arm into a crook that snugly held the all too human Jones. A body never meant for comfort or its ilk, but to the Leviathan’s ward? It was home. Teddy was home after far too long, even if it wasn’t exactly the same, even if it never would be again. They had their dad and everything seemed just a little more okay. 

From their squished up position, using the big amphibious lizard-thing as both blanket and mattress, Teddy surged with a pride vibrant enough to spur what dregs of energy was left in their system to spark outwards and shatter the one lightbulb in the basement. Leaving just the candles and one very persistent glow-stick from a parade in June to keep the space from total darkness. Thankfully. Teds didn’t exactly want to explain that one just yet, and the Leviathan probably needed some quiet and peace to rest. 

“Better that you’ll be here for it. Who else is gonna give away the blushing bride?” To be fair, most of Teddy’s ideas of what marriage was came from old movies and pop culture. Growing up, Levi had never been shy about multiple partners and enjoying itself whenever the whims arose. The desire to tie their life to Emilio came from somewhere else entirely. All wrapped up in the ways the hunter made them feel so secure and safe, in the respect and admiration they had for him. In the love for his personality and how perfectly it complimented their own. Love in a completely new form, as steady as a stone. 

The wriggling human stilled after the Leviathan’s next statement. Its promise. Teddy’s breath stopped short, they let the weight of what it said sink in, even if they couldn’t fully process immediately what it would mean, the elation and joy sparked up right away. Like a giddy toddler, they pressed themself further into the beast’s side. “Thank you, dad I— I needed you. I think I always will. I love you.” 

—

Teddy was wrong, but Leviathan would let them believe what they liked. It didn’t matter, anyway. What had truly transpired was something the demon would not—and could not—speak of. Eyes flicked up toward the shattered bulb—the beast wanted to ask, it wanted to know what had become of Teddy since it had fled this plane, how the child’s power had truly manifested itself without the demonic runes on their bones overpowering whatever had been dormant all these years… but they would have time. They would have all the time that they needed, and Leviathan would ask every question that rolled across its mind like a cavalry of tumbleweeds across the desert. 

“I am going to make sure I write…” It paused to suck in a tired breath, “a very long and embarrassing toast.” There was another rumble of amusement in its throat as it thought about that day, whenever it came about, and it felt itself warm from the inside out. To see Teddy happy was all it needed, whatever form that came in. 

“I am sorry it was for so long. But I think it was the correct choice.” Leviathan shuddered to think what might have happened to Teddy if the other demons had sensed the bridge between them, had sniffed out their familial bond and chosen to use that against it. “Even so…” A second apology hung silent in the air, felt rather than heard as the demon pulled Teddy closer to itself, if that were possible. “I love you too.” Another short, pained sigh slipped free from its maw. “I think… I need to take a very long nap. Much healing to be done.” It shifted its massive head. “You do not need to stay. I will remain here until I feel I can safely return to my disguised form.” If Teddy was so certain they’d be marrying Emilio, then the return of their father was probably a bit of news worth sharing with him. “When you’re ready, go speak with Emilio. I do not know if he is still as angry with me as he was when I left, but… you’ve always been great at diplomacy.”

[iciatheguardess]

".... I believe it's finally about time I do this."

Icia sits down by her fireplace and starts writing down the same thing on many, many pieces of paper.

This is what she writes:

"Help Wanted to reclaim Digital World"

"I am forming a party to rescue a digital world from a tyrannical AI that is terrorizing and abusing many. Due note that this will not be a safe or small feat, and there will more than likely be many perils involved that could result in serious harm and death, or possibly abstraction. All help is appreciated, but this is not for the faint of heart. I will be willing to supply more details to any and all who are interested. There will be no 'reward' other than the honor of rescuing those in danger and access to a grand, royal, fantastical kingdom that shall flourish once freed (although hopefully, all will be able to access it once saved). Transportation will be by pirates across the void, and I can introduce all who would like to meet them beforehand."

"A letter will be sent out by wind to all who are interested/ willing to fight once plans are finalized and set in stone. I look forward to working with whoever is willing to join me."

"PS: Weapons and a strong sense/understanding of self are highly advised. You may visit me at my house or find me on a walk to ask questions in person, and I will answer to my best ability."

"With my utmost gratitude and fair wishes to you all,

Icia"

Icia finishes the flyers early in the morning, letting the wind carry some to varying locations and visiting other locations she knows of to post them. She posts the flyers at Candleton, the circus, the inn, Oceansbay, the bar, anywhere she can think of.

Now all she has to do is wait.

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

OKAY IM FINALLY FUCKING DOING THIS

GOD

Okay so.

You heard her

KINGDOMQUEST WOOHOOOOO

Here are the basic rules and info:

I do not have definite days for any of this yet. However, I'm aiming to be ready in 2-3 weeks.

Any number of characters are allowed to join, but you will only be able to rp 1 at a time (with exceptions if you have a good reason, like how Raina and Lance used to be one person). There will be checkpoints where people may switch to different characters between sections

Ik I said you can have as many characters as you want, but please ensure you'll actually use them. I'll try and make this long enough for everyone to use their characters at least once, but really there's no guarantee. Don't just add characters because you can.

I may do what Elsie did and split the quest into two parties. In that case, you can have one active character in each party. This is unlikely, but if it happens then that's how this will go.

THERE WILL BE NO CHARACTER DEATHS EXCEPT FOR THOSE THAT ARE DISCUSSED WITH ME BEFORE HAND. Any other "deaths" (losing all HP) will just be knocked out and unable to use for the rest of the quest unless revived. This also goes for permanent injuries.

No abstraction. None. Characters can get close, but there won't be any full abstraction.

No OP moves (that should be a given).

No Kingdom characters will be allowed to participate in the quest. They are part of the objective, not the fights. Even against Hexe, no CURRENT kingdom members will be able/allowed to fight

No being a smartass and finding loopholes or questioning the rules of the dungeon (you know who you are, love you <3)

Just so yall know what to expect. There'll probably be 4 sections, maybe just 3. There'll be a boss for each, and the very final section will just be Hexe. Plan accordingly.

PLS ask me if you're confused abt something. I'm probably forgetting a couple things to add here but shhhh, yall get the idea

If yall wanna do lore drops during this too, you totally can! If they're really big and will kinda be like a side thing, do be sure to let me know first!!!

Ok I think i got everything down....

Once again, ask me if you're confused abt something or have ideas bc god knows I need those. Also, be sure to DM me which characters of yours will be joining (if any).

And I think the only big delays will be for Dusk and Jessy trying to escape the Railroads AND me being lazy but Imma try and not have that second one happy

OH YEAH ONE MORE THING

THERE WILL BE LORE SCATTERED ABOUT FOR A COUPLE OF MY CHARACTERS, ESPECIALLY SOME THAT HAVE GAINED SOME POPULARITY...

KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED.

I'll reblog/edit this with any necessary information

But for now

GOOD LUCK.

(BTW you don't have to participate if you don't want to, it's ok to not be interested! Also if a character IS participating, just do a really quick in-rp post (or have them send a letter to Icia) & tag me in it so I know.)

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Professor Malfoy and Miss knight

Part 1

Part 2, part 3..

Draco Malfoy x oc (Elizabeth knight)

Warning:- none!

The dawn broke, letting Malfoy know the day has come. His son would probably already be at school. Hogwarts. And he will be going there, probably for the first time in a few decades. After being a windower Draco Malfoy was heart broken. He had a hard time coping with everything that went on. His parents tried their best but bringing him back on track was hard. So a letter came from professor Minerva mcGonagall after six and a half months of his misery, it contained condolence from her and an offer letter. An offer letter to him, asking him to teach potions in Hogwarts. Mr and Mrs Malfoy were overjoyed and as for Draco, he smiled recieving it. After six and a half month his morning had something to look forward to.

"you'll do great Draco" said lucious Malfoy as he was getting into Hogwarts express.

"you didn't have to come to see me father, I'm not a child. Infact I'm a father of a child." he replied making a swish movement of his wand that made all his stuff get into the train.

"ofcourse, I know but" lucious Malfoy trailed off a little, "scorpious would be so happy".

Draco inhaled a deeb breath, while releasing it slowly. His son, his only son. Atleast he'll get to be with him everyday.

"I hope he does, bye father" waving him goodbye he got into the train. Sitting beside a window he kept on recalling his early days of Hogwarts. Him bullying Weasley. It made him smile subconsciously, for later they all became friends or atleast they didn't hate eachother.

____________________________________________

Heart in hand he got down from his train. His heartbeat was probably audible to each wizard who went past him. With each step he got closer to Hogwarts. A special place for all the wizards. And finally looking up he was relieved.

"Hogwarts" he muttered under his breath.

"Mr Malfoy" called Minerva mcGonagall as he entered her office.

"how are you professor" said he.

"oh look at you" she said absolutely giving no attention to his question, "I never thought you'd become polite keeping in mind your childhood days and how you behaved with Mr Potter and Mr weas.." she stopped herself. Perhaps Draco's current state wasn't the right time to say all these. "Yet I'm extremely sorry for-"

"it's okay" he interrupted her, "I'm fine, I don't like to hear about it anymore, or recall it".

Professor mcGonagall nodded and they stood silent for a moment.

"come with me I'll take you to your class"

With a single nod he agreed. They went to the classroom where senior year's students were supposed to be taught potions.

Professor mcGonagall opened the door and every chatter of the students stopped. With each step she took the students straightened their backs and waited for the person she indicated to follow her.

As soon as Draco entered there were whispers, he could only hear a few, and make sense to some of it, they were something like "he's Draco Malfoy, Malfoy family is famous" or "do you know how he treated Mr Harry Potter in their school days?" And some were, "he's scorpious's father".

"SILENCE" mcGonagall yelled, "I'd like to introduce you all to your new potions teacher, Mr Draco Malfoy".

He stood infront of them, sad, nervous yet managed to wish them morning as they did too.

"I hope you can manage from here Malfoy" she said, "or professor Malfoy from now on"

And after six and a half months Malfoy chuckled, may it be sadly but he did. He loved the sound of 'professor Malfoy'.

"yes I would" he said and with a bit confidence he faced the class, "so I'd like-"

"may I please come in?"

Everyone turned to the door. The running footsteps stopped at the door of the classroom. Panting she stood for permission to enter the class. Messy black hair, dark brown eyes, perfect lips and flushed cheeks caused by running ofcourse. Her robes hugged the curves of her slender figure perfectly.

"you'll never learn Miss knight" scolded professor Minerva mcGonagall, "oh Malfoy do tell her to be in class in time, she's always late for all her classes."

Draco's eyes didn't blink for once, Draco barely heard anything Minerva said. He just stared at her.

"please do come in Miss Elizabeth knight" snapped professor mcGonagall, "or you're lack of punctuality will make Ravenclaw lose this year's house cup."

Draco stared at her, as she walked in looking down, yet eyeing her friend to shift and make place for her. He watched her placing her book and wand. He saw her friend whispering to her ear and that instant her eyes met Draco's. And then, after seven months Draco Malfoy finally got a little colour back to his pale cheeks.

To be continued...

[the-dreaming-writer]

Crush VI.

The lid had lifted soundlessly, unattached to the rest of the wood, and at once, I felt a wave of dizzying nausea rush over me. It was an alien sensation— yet it was eerily familiar, and my mind readily supplied me with a memory so vivid, I now wonder if the events that followed came solely from the box, or if it was merely a catalyst for something that had been a longtime brewing.

I suppose it doesn't matter much now.

My memory of early childhood is patchy, isolated images and impressions, but this came to me better than most. It had been the morning after a sleepover— important because we had been a group of sleep-deprived thirteen year olds, none of which lends itself well to coherent decision-making. One of the boys had had the bright idea to go up on the roof— and although the rest of the girls had stayed back, I remember agreeing largely because they had all but counted me out.

It was perhaps also why I had showboated, making a point to linger on the edges of the roof, boasting how unafraid I was. I was afraid, although only the correct healthy amount, as soon-to-be events would prove, and I suspect all of us secretly were, under our faux teen-bravado.

Like you probably guessed, I fell, although to my credit, through no fault of my own. It had been a strong gust, sudden enough to have even stumbled the athletic kids, and in an instant, I had found myself without footing, toppling face-first off the roof.

It wasn't a very tall roof, as you can also guess, since I'm here talking to you. I can also tell you that it was only a two-story house and that the fall shouldn't have been long enough to even think a single full thought. Except that was not what had happened.

I had clenched my eyes shut, arms shielding my face as I braced for the impact.

It didn't come.

For a moment, I had wondered if I had just fallen on the roof, looking like a dumbass, but I had felt absolutely nothing. Nor had I heard the laughter that would have absolutely followed if I had.

I have been told numerous times, by people I have shared this story to, that they too have similar childhood memories. Ones where they flew, levitated— dreams so vivid they had been stored as memories in our prepubscent brains.

I usually left it at that, had even half-believed it, but I know— in my heart, that it had been something deeply different. One, this was a memory in my teens— while theirs were almost always as a baby or a child. And two, I hadn't been flying. I'd been falling.

I know because I remember the air whistling past my ears, I know, because even though my eyes were tightly shut, I could hear the surprised shouts of the others fade away at frightening speeds, and I remember— that sensation, that unquestionable certain sense baked into the core of every living thing, that I was falling.

And then I had opened my eyes, eyes I had kept closed in fear that it was the only thing keeping me from the inevitable ground, and I saw the sky. I remember how plainly blue it was because I remember wondering, despite everything, how I had managed to flip myself midair, why I couldn't see the lip of the roof that I had fallen from, where the sun had gone.

And then I hit the ground, or I assume I hit the ground, because a blinding pain shot up my arms, my nose, and then everything went black. I had woken up in the hospital soon after, fortunately with just a broken nose— though I'd been disappointed that I wasn't going to have a cast.

And that was that.

No crippling new fear of heights, not even a long-lasting mark to show for it. My friends had watched me fall off the roof, normally, which then earned me a bit of precious respect in my school, and my dad had told me that the slowing of time in danger happens sometimes— although now I have to distrust that explanation as well.

Truth be told, I had all but forgotten the experience until that very moment— on my couch, lid in one hand, the other holding onto the table with an intensity that I hadn't consciously chosen, staring into the interior of the box— if you could even call it that.

It was the sky. Cloudless. Sunless.

I tore my eyes away from it, a herculean task that I am sure I only managed because it permitted me to do so, and my gaze landed on the bottom of the lid, onto the face that had been looking inwards, where a single line of engraved symbols lay, circling around another identical knob.

A warning. Except it couldn't have been— since there had been no way to know of it before lifting the lid. A mocking, then, although the finality I felt from them were far too solemn to be anything but sincere.

Then my eyes were forced back to the sky, and I knew that this was the same sky, the one that had stolen me all those years ago, and the sensation doubled in strength— then again, and again, until I was no longer sure I was still in my room, although I could still see it, the table, the couch, the floors, and the walls.

For the next few minutes, although it had felt like hours, even days, I could only think one thought— and the rest that I'm about to tell you, the descriptions, the wonderings, the paranoia, would only come after, although not long after. But it's important to stress, again, that during that long moment— there was only the sensation, growing stronger with every second. The one sensation.

I was falling.

(...)

[cherryblossempearl]

I finally finished my story :0 I apologize for the delay; I hope yall enjoy :D

Brotherly bonding:

(segment 1: Rather at peace)

Sunlight peered through the window, making Daniel groan. While last night was great, he was too tired from all the walking to get up. His body was extremely worn out from chasing Claire all the way to his car. He was very greatful she didn’t leave him for dead, but dang was she a menace.

Shifting to his side, Daniel smiled. Even though he would of probably died last night, he didn’t regret going into the forest at all. Not only did he find inspiration, he found a friend. A somewhat creepy one; but a friend none the doubt.

It wasn’t often that he made friends, or true friends for the matter, so this was a rare occasion for him. With a schedule like his, it was not easy making friends right away, and with his long- term friends, it wasn’t easy keeping them. Except his friend William, who was rather attached to him. To bad he was all the way back home in Alpine- his home planet.

Usually, he was in his office most of the time, and with the workers his parents company had, made it less than enjoyable. Just then, a loud sound buzzed off from his phone, signaling him to get up for work. Sighing, he got up and off his bed, only to feel a sense of tiredness wash over him afterword’s.

As much as Daniel wanted to sleep in more, he had to get up. Even he knew how long he takes to get ready, and he was for certain he did not want to see Yalena’s pissed off face again after the last time. It was embarrassing for sure.

Putting on his slippers, Daniel got up and walked towards the bedroom door. Some breakfast would be good right about now, his stomach was growling. He opened the door and headed to the kitchen, hurrying to the fridge.

“What should I eat today?” Daniel thought to himself; scanning the fridge for something filling. He did have some left-over roast from last night’s dinner, but he didn’t really want to have dinner food this early in the morning. He shrugged, getting the roast anyways, he could always use some of it to make a sandwich.

Cutting into the roast was definitely harder cold then when it was warm. It took Daniel a few try’s to finally get a decent slice out of it. Putting the slice on a sliver plate, he put it in the microwave to let it heat up a bit. Now all he needed was some eggs and bread.

As Daniel headed to the pantry, he could hear the faint ringing of the doorbell. He grimaced, geez- he didn’t even make his breakfast yet and he already had to interact with people today. He grabbed the loath of bread, leaving it on the counter before processing to the door.

Whoever it was, he hoped it was not Yalena. His assistant had come to house one time because he had slept in late; and like he said before; he did not want that to happen again. He got she was passionate about her work, but he’d wish she’d tone it down a bit.

When Daniel made it to the door, he mentally prepared himself to interact with the person outside. “Please let it not be who I think it is,” he said to himself as he looked through the peephole. Luckily, it wasn’t Yalena; this time. It was his little brother, what was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be heading to school by now?

Daniel stood there for a few minutes, dazed by his brother’s sudden appearance. Meanwhile, his brother went in for a hug, “let me guess big bro, you still haven’t had breakfast yet?” he snickered. Daniel snapped back to reality, oh how he wished he was just having his breakfast right now. “Travis?”, he exclaimed, “why aren’t you in school?”

Travis paused, “what do you think?” he tittered. Daniel raised his brows, he knew he should tell him to head back to school, but there could be only one reason why he was here this early. “Come inside,” he said letting go of his brothers embrace, and gestured to the hallway.

His brother grinned, “you’re the best big bro,” he said, rather happily. His brother walked past him as he headed inside. Daniel sighed, he knew his parents weren’t going to like this- if they ever found out of course. He closed the door, and started following his brother.

(Segment 2: Travis enters the picture)

Travis sighed as he flopped onto the couch, getting comfortable in the cushions. He loved going to his brother’s place, it was much more relaxing here. “Soo, what’s been up big bro?” He asked as his brother entered the living room after him. Daniel rubbed his neck, “Not much- just the usual stuff I do and such,” he then smiled all of a sudden, “I did make a new friend yesterday though.”

Knowing his brother, making friends was a rare thing for him, so in his eyes, it was something to celebrate. Travis raised a brow, “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He joked lightheartedly. Daniel rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I hate making friends,” he mumbled, “it’s just people I’m around tend to be a bit much sometimes.”

Travis found himself nodding in agreement, “that’s part of society we live in,” he commented, “a lot of the company’s workers are a bit much; especially the blond one,” he mumbled off, “although I do think she’s kind of hot not going to lie...” Daniel grimaced, “I think she hates me,” he uttered, before pausing, “wait what?”

Daniel looked at Travis, concerned for his wellbeing. “Travis… are you feeling well-“he questioned with his brow raised. Travis shrugged, “eh I little tired and stressed but I feel alright now,” he said rather nonchalantly. His brother looked confused, and just looked at him weirdly for a few minutes.

“You know she’s married.. right?” He uttered with the very most concern. Travis raised his hands in defense,” it just an opinion big bro- “He reasoned playfully, “don’t get all worried about it.” Daniel still looked sketchy.

“Anyways,” Daniel continuing, “her name is Claire.” Travis grinned, and was about to open his mouth when Daniel stopped him, “No Travis, we are just friends.” Smirking, Travis shrugged, “you never know big bro,” he quipped, “someday I might be the best man for your wedding.”

Daniel grumbled, clearly annoyed at his little brother’s stubbornness. Just then a dinging sound came from his brother’s pocket, which made Daniel dig into it, and bring out his phone. Travis looked at him curious, “who is that? His brother didn’t answer, as he suddenly put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry Travis, I got to go, like now,” He looked at him before heading down the hall.

From looking at the expression on his brothers face before he left, he could definitely tell it was an Yalena message, as he was rushing. She’d probably sent a text on Daniels phone telling him to hurry up, or else she would head to his place; again. Travis had heard the story from bro himself, so it made since why he was so urgent to head out.

(Segment 3: Lonely)

It was quiet without his brother around; maybe even too quiet. He kind of regretted heading here in the morning now, his brother always had work in the mornings. Sure, it had given him time away from the stresses of school; and to be fair their parents; but he would rather spend this free-time with someone he cared about.

He took out his phone, scrolling through mindless apps. Travis was already feeling bored in a matter of minutes. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get his mind off of his problems. It was easier to do that when his brother was around, that’s for sure.

Heading to Inquiry; which was a local search engine on the web they used; he scrolled the news, hoping to find something interesting for once. As usually though, it was the same things. Planet news, New technology replacements, lastly half- breed outbreak’s on record; which was probably going be taken down sooner or later.

Just as he was about to head off the site- he found an ad with a rather recognizable model. Heather Henderson; a popular model at Phoenix, one of the perfect figures of what people say humans could be- hat sounded so weird to think about, why did he think that? While Travis could definitely appreciate a good-looking woman; she was still a human being, or at least hopefully most of one.

People are weird; yes- he knew he was weird too in some sort of way; but idolizing random people you don’t know too much about is rather creepy in his opinion. With a click of a button, he headed off the site. Looking at news didn’t help him feel any better, which should have been expected. The news wasn’t the happiest thing in the world.

He hated feeling this way, the stress was killing him enough. Travis knew he thrived in social interaction; with people he liked anyways. It had always made he feel warm on the inside, it felt like he could fall free from his problems. When he was alone however, that was the opposite.

Travis couldn’t help but think about his problems when no one else was around, there was nothing else to focus on. He didn’t want to think like this, but he couldn’t help it. Sighing to himself, he laid back on the couch, and closed his eyes. Maybe sleep could get his mind off things.

(Segment 4: Memories)

It turns out it didn't. Travis kept tossing and turning endlessly. Even sleep didn’t help him, he was too stressed out. Taking a breath, Travis tried to relax, to drift off into dream world. His dreams would be with him, and he wouldn’t be alone.

After a few minutes thankfully, he did go to sleep. A calm tranquil feeling filled his mind, putting him at rest. Now all he had to do was dream. No parents, no school, just him and the people he chose to dream about.

FLASHBACK…

Travis sat there, drawing a rather confusing picture. The sit next to him was empty, where twenty minutes ago a person was sitting. His brother told him he would be back right away, and yet, he hadn’t. It shouldn’t have taken that long to get a glass of water.

Groaning, Travis scribbled on his piece of paper. ‘Uh he’s taking forever,” Travis complained, he knew his big brother took forever getting ready, but he wasn’t getting ready; he getting a drink. That shouldn’t take this long.

Feeling very impatient, Travis hopped off his seat, and headed to wherever Daniel was at. He searched the kitchen, but his brother wasn’t there. That was confusing. If his brother needed a drink. Why wasn’t he here?

Running past the few maids and butlers roaming the hallway; Travis looked into multiple rooms, trying to find his brother. He had no luck either, as the rooms were empty. Thinking for a moment, Travis thought about the few places his brother could of went.

As he was thinking, a voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you alright little sir?” A butler asked him, concerned as to why he was just standing there. Travis looked at him, “I’m just thinking where my brother went, Zion,” he mumbled in frustration, “he told me he was just going to get water- but he hasn’t come back yet.”

Zion raised a brow, and sighed, “Why I think I saw your parents take him to their room this earlier,” he said giving a small smile of compassion to the boy, “you’ll find him there.” Travis groaned to himself, “of course he’d be there,” he beamed back at Zion, “thank you Zion,” he quickly murmured before running to his parent’s bedroom, of course it was his parents that took him away.

Just as he was about to head to his parent’s bedroom; his brother appeared out of nowhere. Travis and Daniel both yelped out of surprise. “Travis- you scared me,” Daniel mumbled out nervously, “I-“ “Why were you gone so long bro- I was waiting!” Travis complained, cutting him off. His brother rubbed his neck, “mom and dad wanted to talk to me..” he paused, “I’m sorry bro- but I don’t think I can draw pictures with you right now.”

Travis frowned, “why does our parents have to stop everything fun,” he whined. Daniel sighed,” mom and dad…just want what’s best for me, so I have to understand.” He looked at Travis, “I promise we can draw next time though,” he softly smiled. His brother gave him reassuring hug, “you promise?” Travis spoke up a bit, skeptical. Daniel nodded, and hugged him tighter, “I would never leave you on purpose Travis,” he beamed, “I promise.”

They stood there for a few minutes, just hugging each other. Travis hoped his brother would keep his promise; but he understood why he couldn’t sometimes. “Ok- I’m going to keep drawing then,” Travis grinned as he let go of the hug, “see yeah big bro!” he said before running off again. He didn’t see his brother’s soft frown behind him, as he silently wished he was running with him too.

END OF FLASHBACK

Travis slowly opened his eyes- what time was it? Getting up, he picked his phone off the side table; it was around one pm. In the after- noon…; dang was he asleep for that long? He sighed in relief, at least he wasn’t stressing so much as this earlier; that was good. He thought for a minute, his brother won’t be home until the later; so- what should he do in the mean time?

Still feeling a tiny bit tired, he laid back down on the couch, getting into his comfortable position. Using his phone, he put on a parkour app. It was to hopefully distract himself for a little while longer; at least until brother came back from work. While he could watch tv- they had too much romance tv shows, as well as movies going on. It would make him cringe.

It would be not until sundown that Travis would see his brother again, but he was alright with that; for now- that is. Knowing his brother would be home brought him a lot of joy, much more than anything else really. Feeling rather sleepy again, he put his phone back on the coffee table; then laid back down again. Smiling to himself; he closed his eyes, as much more memories flooded his mind.

The End 😊

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Or is it >:)

Daniel huffed as he opened the front door to his home, he was finally back. Work was just as draining as before, and he did not enjoy a single second of it. Taking off his shoes, he first closed the front door before heading down the hallway.

Was Travis still here; or was he gone already. Knowing his brother, he doesn’t like staying alone for long, so he could at least presume he wasn’t here. Checking the living room however, was a different story. Travis was laid down on the couch, fast asleep. Daniel chuckled, looks like he stayed after all. He knew how fond his brother was of his place, he should of know he would stay.

Taking something out of his pocket, Daniel quietly walked over to the coffee table and laid something out onto it, which was for Travis to see in the morning. Tiptoeing quietly back out of the living room, Daniel started heading towards his room.

After a tiring day like this, Daniel needed to sleep. Opening his bedroom door, he quickly flopped onto bed, and closed his eyes. All he wanted for to sleep now… and maybe see his friend Claire again. As he started to drift into sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder what Claire did today, and how her sisters photoshoot went.

....

If he has time tomorrow, he definitely will try to reach out again.

Now its the end :3.. for now

I hope you all enjoyed, and again I’m sorry for the delay. Hopefully, when I start my next short story, it will come out way faster. Thanks for reading. Also, Daniel and Claire are just going to be friend’s guys (Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm)

[scrawlingwithstyle]

One Good Turn (5/?)

The story of how “you,” an apparently average person, join the Avengers. 

A Marvel fanfiction based on my friend’s recurring dream. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1434

Tags: @arrow-guy, @ifitistobeitisuptous

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

You can barely sleep that night, but you know you need to in order to refresh your brain for the morning. Stark had said twenty-two hours. That gives you till five p.m.

The morning takes too long to come, so you’re up before the sun, mulling over your options while you eat breakfast. You have a list in your mind of what powers would pair best with the combat skills you’re learning from Nat and the healing factor you already know you want. You just have to shuffle through them to find one that best suits you.

Shapeshifting comes off the list pretty early when you realize that changing your size or shape might counteract all your training. Longer or shorter limbs would make you clumsy. An animal form would be even worse.

Flight also crosses your mind. It’s practical in some ways. You consider the advantage to dodging, and then an even better thought comes to mind: heightened reflexes.

Having powers that aren’t apparent at first would be good for hiding in plain sight or keeping a secret identity. On top of that, a danger sense of some kind would make it easier to make split-second decisions.

It’s barely six a.m. when you realize you’ve decided on your second power. To make sure you’re certain, you let yourself think about it for a bit longer while you finish getting ready for the day. And besides, you don’t know what time it’s okay to call.

It’s five to seven when you can’t stand it anymore and call the number for Avengers Tower.

“Morning,” greets Stark. He sounds like he’s been up for a while. Maybe he hasn’t even been to bed at all.

“I’ve decided,” you say.

“Perfect. How soon can you be here?”

You look at the clock. “I don’t have work today, so… twenty minutes?”

“Alright. I’ll let Banner know to expect you at the lab.” He hangs up without a goodbye.

You frown a little but don’t take it personally. In the brief time you’ve known him, he appears to be a bit brusque with everyone.

As promised, you arrive at the tower within twenty minutes. You pass by very few people on your way up, including Natasha. When you make it to the lab, Bruce is the only one there.

He greets you from the far end of the room and then asks, “What other ability have you decided on?”

“You know how Spiderman just kind of… knows when something bad is about to happen?” you say, unable to hold back a grin. “Something like that. An extra sense for danger.”

He furrows his brow and nods. “I think I understand. Unfortunately, it’ll take some time to program the device given your specifications. Probably at least a couple of hours, give or take.” He looks you up and down. “If you want to spend some time in the gym, or up in Clint’s archery range, that might be a good way to let off some energy.”

“Oh,” you say, somewhat disappointed. He’s not wrong, though. You’re feeling pretty amped up. “That sounds like a good idea.”

You haven’t been to the archery range yet, and you doubt Clint is here this early to show you around, so you head back down to the gym and find a treadmill. You figure if a brisk jog doesn’t help, there’s always a punching bag you can beat up.

Steve shows up about thirty minutes in while you’re taking a break and just lying on one of the mats. He reaches out a hand, and despite your desire to stay on the floor, you grab it and let him pull you up. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You smile. “Yeah, just nervous. And excited.” You pause at a thought. “How did it go when you got your . . . ?” you gesture to all of him.

He chuckles. “It hurt like hell, and I wanted to sleep for a week straight.”

Your face pales. “Oh, is that all?” you ask weakly.

He claps a hand on your shoulder, laughing. “You’ll be fine. It’s a different process, and it shouldn’t make any drastic physical changes if you didn’t ask for them.”

Relief washes over you. “Thank God.”

You spend some time watching him, fascinated, as he lifts weights labeled in the triple digits. “What are those things made of?” you ask after a minute.

He finishes a set and sets them down before answering that it’s adamantium.

You gape at him for a minute before you find your voice again. “I know Tony has money to burn, but that is a lot of money to burn.”

Steve nods. “I know. I told him it wasn’t worth it, but he had them made anyway.” He shrugs sheepishly. “Now I use them all the time because I feel guilty that they cost so much.”

You go back to your own workout, now and then glancing over to see what he’s doing. You tell yourself it’s curiosity. You’re lying; it’s his muscles. Fortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to notice, but you have to stop when Nat comes in because she absolutely would.

During another break, lying on one of the mats, you doze off a bit and only wake up when Natasha says your name.

“Are you ready?” she asks, squatting by your side.

Anxiety twists in your chest. “I think so. Is it already time?”

She nods and stands, offering you a hand to help you up. “Bruce is waiting for you.”

Working off nervous energy has made you sweaty and sticky, so you’re hesitant to go directly back, but you’re also too anxious and excited to stop and shower before you go. You take the elevator, nervously rocking on your feet until the doors slide open.

Banner greets you again and ushers you deeper into the lab to a large machine that kind of reminds you of an airport metal detector, except that it’s fully encased in glass. He presses a button on the control panel and the front of the glass opens up.

“I’m ready when you are.” He gestures toward the open door.

You take a breath and step inside, and he closes the glass door behind you.

“Stand in the white circle,” he says, voice muffled.

You look down and center yourself.

“Ready?”

You take another deep breath and flash a grin. “Hit me.”

He hits a few keys and the machine whirrs to life. The very air around you begins to vibrate, and the sensation reverberates through your bones. It’s not pleasant, but it isn’t painful either; it’s just really weird.

You open your mouth a little, but forget what you’re about to say when you feel your teeth rattling against each other. It’s unsettling enough that you opt for closing your jaw tightly to prevent it from happening again. You realize after what feels like a solid five minutes that you never asked how long the process was going to take. But you’re not willing to open your mouth again to ask, so you just shut your eyes and wait for it to stop.

Another strange sensation takes you: a warmth that blooms from beneath your sternum, and slowly spreads to your extremities. Again, it’s not awful, just strange. Once you feel it in the top of your scalp and the ends of your fingers and toes, it grows uncomfortably warm before fading almost instantly, along with the deep vibration.

Your ears start to ring, and your body feels as though it’s still buzzing, even though you know it’s stopped. It takes a moment to relax your jaw, which is stiff and painful now, and your voice creaks when you speak. “I forgot to ask how long that would take,” you croak.

The door opens, and you step out on shaky legs.

“That was twenty-five minutes,” Bruce replies, “but it’ll take a couple days for the powers to kick in and your body to recover. You’re going to be pretty lethargic and weak, but functional till then.”

You laugh a little. “I didn’t think about that either. It’s a good thing I don’t have to walk home.”

“We’ll have someone drive you.” He helps prop you up and leads you to a nearby chair. “Your legs should be back to normal, more or less, in maybe thirty minutes. You can sit in here until then.”

You nod, sitting back. “I think I’ll take a little nap, if you don’t mind.”

He smiles. “That’s fine. I’ll wake you when you’re good to go.”

Your eyes are already shut. “Mm-hm. Thanks.”

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 2 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Carlos Martinez  

Sometimes it takes a minute for my brain to catch up to my mouth, especially when I'm stressed or under pressure, which is what happens when I open my front door dressed in my underwear and find myself face to face with a pair of officers and some unexpected news.

"Dead? What do you mean he's dead?"

The male officer looks me up and down but I'm pretty sure he's not checking me out. 

More likely he's comparing me to some profiling list in his head and checking off boxes.

Mid to late twenties ✓ Male ✓ Longish hair ✓ Medium brown skin ✓ Obviously doesn't have his shit together ✓ Latino-looking ✓ Probably a criminal of some kind ✓

"I mean that he is no longer alive, Mr. Martinez," the man says.

"He is deceased. Passed away. Expired."

"Está muerto," the female officer joins in helpfully.

I rub my hands over my face and do my best not to scowl. 

"I get that, thanks. What I mean is... what happened?"

"That's what we're trying to establish, Mr. Martinez. My name is Detective John Turner. This is Sergeant Latoya McKenzie. May we come in?"

"Uh..." 

I glance between the pair. 

I'm pretty sure I can refuse but less sure I can do so without hurting my chances of appearing 'not guilty.' 

They haven't said as much yet but also I'm pretty sure they're not here just to tell me Kyle died of natural causes.. 

"Of course."

I step back and hold the door open as they enter. 

Two pairs of eyes rake across my living space, doing inventory, drawing conclusions and I cringe as I see it from a visitor's perspective.

I'm not a slob but I'm not Marie Kondo, either. 

Most of my stuff is from thrift shops or hand-me-downs from friends. 

None of the furniture matches, every dish I own is from a different set and it's been a week since my last weekly cleaning day. 

I wince at the overflowing laundry basket, the dirty sink and the two-day-old pizza box occupying the coffee table.

"Sorry about the mess. I, uh, wasn't expecting guests," I say and then mentally kick myself.

'The cops aren't guests Carlos.'

Detective Turner quirks a brow but merely nods at the couch. 

"Can we sit?"

"Of course. Uh..." 

I scramble to clear away the pizza box, several dirty napkins, an open DVD case, a book and a packet of cigarettes.

The cops take the sofa, while I perch nervously on the edge of a well-worn La-Z-Boy.

"You smoke?" Sergeant McKenzie points at the Marlboro Lights.

"Huh? Oh, no. My aunt does."

"Your aunt lives here, too?" Detective Turner asks, pulling out a notepad and pen.

"No, no. She's in Oregon."

"Then why you got her smokes?" Sergeant McKenzie swipes a finger across my countertop, as if checking for dust.

"They're not hers. They're mine."

The pair share a glance and Turner scribbles a note.

"You just said you don't smoke. So which is it?"

I frown. 

It feels like I'm already being interrogate and I don't even know what the deal is yet. 

"I lived with my aunt until recently," I say.

"Relatively recently, anyway. I was... feeling homesick, I guess. Missing her. I saw these at the gas station and bought them on a whim. Not to smoke, just to... just to have, I guess."

"Decorative cigarettes. Right?" Turner asks, making another note and my frown becomes a scowl.

"No offense, officers but what happened to Kyle and why are you here?"

Detective Turner takes a breath and studies me with a penetrating stare.

"Kyle Peters was murdered, Mr. Martinez, some time last night. Can you tell us where you were between the hours of ten p.m yesterday and two a.m. this morning?"

"I was here. Asleep."

"Anyone vouch for that?" Mckenzie asks and I shake my head. 

"I live alone."

"You didn't text anyone, call anyone? Facetime your girlfriend?"

"I don't have a... no. I had dinner, took a shower and went to bed. I was tired."

"Hmm."

Turner makes another note and my temper finally wakes up 'along with the rest of my senses'. 

These two obviously got here early, hoping to take me off guard and they succeeded. 

I'm sitting in my living room, dressed in my underwear, being questioned by cops. 

It doesn't feel real and in the dreamlike state of shock after learning my assistant is dead, who knows what shit I might say to incriminate myself?

"Look, just tell me what happened to Kyle," I say.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

I turn to Sergeant McKenzie. 

"Yesterday, around lunchtime."

I scowl at Detective Turner. 

He's hot, no denying that but obnoxious. 

"Two pm. I gave him twenty bucks to go get us some burgers. He never came back."

"That didn't concern you?"

"Sure it did. I didn't get lunch, lost twenty bucks and had to finish the rest of the day's work alone."

"You didn't think to call him? Make sure he was all right?"

I meet his sexy Russell Crowe stare and refuse to blink. 

"No. He's only been working here two or three weeks and it's not the first time he's dipped in the middle of a shift."

"Two or three?"

I narrow my eyes at him. 

"What?"

"You said 'he's only been working here two or three weeks.' So which is it? Two weeks or three?"

"Shit, I don't know. I'd have to check the books."

"Can you check them now?"

Glaring, I stand and stalk over to my 'desk' which is really just a piece of scrap plywood bolted to some two-by-fours and painted white. 

Painfully conscious of the detective's eyes on my back, I rouse my geriatric computer from it’s slumber and open a spreadsheet.

"Two weeks and three days," I say, and clear my throat.

"He started on the 17th of last month."

"Thank you. That's very helpful."

I turn and find myself almost chest-to-chest with Mr. tall, dark and antagonistic. 

There's a moment of silent masculinity measuring and then I yield, glancing away and taking a tiny step back, bumping into the desk. 

Like Aunt Tony used to say, pick your battles or pick your tombstone.

Oddly, Turner seems equally off-balance, as if he hadn't meant to stand so close and takes a step to the side, allowing me a clear path back to my seat.

Excruciatingly conscious of the fact he's watching me, I make my way back to it and sit down.

"So. Are you going to tell me about Kyle or not?" I ask.

"I assume someone's spoken to his aunt."

"She's been informed," Turner says stolidly, as if Lucille can expect a standard government-issue letter in the mail.

"Kyle was found by a runner in the park, early this morning," Sergeant McKenzie says. 

"Where the trail goes under the highway between Chestnut and Main." 

She pulls out her cell-phone and holds it towards me. 

"He was surrounded by symbols like this. Any significance to you?"

I squint at the screen, then school my face into a featureless mask as a shiver runs up my spine.

"No. What is it?"

"Some sort of occult symbolism, as far as we can tell from the shit on the internet," McKenzie says, pocketing her phone again.

"Kyle into that kinda thing?"

I shake my head. 

"No. Not as far as I know."

Detective Turner sighs. 

He hadn't retaken his seat and leans against the back of the couch, arms crossed. 

Now he straightens and pulls a card from the breast pocket of his crisp white shirt and holds it out to me.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Martinez. We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."

"We're sorry for your loss," Sergeant McKenzie adds.

"I hope we can count on your cooperation as we investigate."

"Of... of course," I say, taking the card reflexively.

"If you think of anything else, give me a call," Turner says. 

Then, with a bit more awkwardness, they're gone and I'm alone again.

As soon as the door shuts at their backs, I dash upstairs and snatch my phone off the bedside table, ripping out the charging cable and bringing up Aunt Toni's contact. 

Hands trembling, I tap her number and listen with my heart pounding in my ears as it rings.

Voicemail.

Again.

‘Toni Martinez. I'm busy. You know what to do.’

Beep.

I draw a breath, words swirl in my brain. 

Then, like I have the last three times I've called, I hang up.

I said some shit to Toni the last time I saw her, when I left for Spring Lakes, some shit I needed to say but maybe not quite the way I should have said it. 

She raised me and overall she did a good job but she'd hurt me, too and with my words, I hurt her back.

That wasn't my intention but words are like toothpaste, hard to retract once they're squeezed out.

That symbol the sergeant showed me was familiar, too familiar and my first thought was to run to Toni for advice. 

Now, I shake my head at myself as I get dressed.

I told Toni I didn't need her.

Time to prove myself right.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. 

I fix a busted tail light, change a battery, flush a transmission and order some specialty parts for a certain vintage Volkswagen. 

The whole time I keep my phone with me, waiting for Lucille or Tony or the cops or someone to call me but it stays silent.

The shop is silent, too. 

It's as if nothing happened and by the end of the day I've half convinced myself it was all a dream, that tomorrow Kyle will show up bright and early for his shift, with some wild story about why he never came back with that burger the day before.

As for what I'd seen on the sergeant's phone... maybe I was wrong. 

It wasn't that clear of a picture, after all. 

Maybe my coffee-deprived brain had just filled in the blanks. 

I mean, what were the chances that mark would show up here and that it would have any relation to Kyle?

I've pretty much convinced myself of this, that Kyle met a tragic, untimely but ultimately mundane end, by the time I close up the shop for the day. 

He was the victim of a mugging or a drug deal gone wrong or maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time but it's got nothing to do with me.

It weighs on my heart, of course. 

The poor kid was so young and while I can't say he was destined for greatness, who knows what impact anyone else might have on the world? 

Now whatever impact Kyle might have made, good or bad, is forever lost.

'I'll have to buy a suit for his funeral,' I think, as I trudge upstairs after work.

'If I'm invited to his funeral.'

I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower.

'Funerals are depressing as fuck. I hope I'm not invited.'

I wash my hair, soap up, rinse off and reach for my towel.

"Why you gotta do this to me, Kyle?" I sigh as I wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror and stare into my own dark eyes.

"I give you a job. You take my twenty bucks and get yourself killed. Where did I go wrong?"

Something moves in the reflection and I gasp and spin so fast I almost fall on my ass.

I thought there was someone in the room with me, an intruder appearing at my back.

Instead, I groan with a strange mix of terror and relief as I find myself face to face with Kyle's ghost. 

[joe-moi]

ok i'm finally caught up after reading the morning the paper (this blog) here's what i'm thinking, sorry it's so long 😭

usually i'm not someone who cares about over analyzing bc most things do tend to be that deep, but i think we're reading too far into the friend group part of jk and csw a bit, we have no way of knowing if she's been around his friends or not, i think it doesn't help that he probably has more lowkey and not recognizable friends in ny, like music friends or something, i don't think it's weird we haven't seen her with nat and charlie bc i think if they were spotted all together that would make the relationship look a lot more serious, like jk and m were always spotted with nat and charlie in the early days so ppl would definitely make it a thing if jk started bringing her around them too

as for all red flags i think we're judging all this as if it's a full on serious relationship when it's not, maybe i'm giving them too much credit but i think they both know exactly what this relationship is, like it's fun and something new but it's not going to turn into marriage or anything, and i do think they like each other but i think they know this isn't something lasting through the strike ending since he'll be so busy, i honestly don't see them trying to make it work at all and just going back to being friends or pure fwb whenever they're both in ny, i do think maybe chase might have stronger feelings only because she's used to having strong short term relationships but i think this is a fling for her too, that's why they're ok being very friendly publicly

they are in a honeymoon phase and i know you turn blind during that but i don't think it's fair for us to judge it like a potential long term thing just yet and be questioning his judgement like he's this oblivious (god i hope not) 😭 idk the anons calling whatever they have going on weird and/or toxic rubbed me the wrong way i really think they're just two people having fun while they're unemployed

i could be wrong maybe we'll see csw in atl and i'll have to eat my words but that's what i'm thinking

oh last tidbit, i was going to say jk hanging around the it girl friend group surprised me at first too as someone who loves rachel and ayo specifically, i'm very biased in this part but now i think it does kinda make sense for him, bc yeah they are kind of it girls rn but they're doing it in a very ironic and sort of dorky way, like if you watch clips of ayo and rachel together they're humors very silly and dorky, they seem to enjoy fame a lot but none of them have an ego about it maybe jk likes that, it is funny imagine what a conversation between jk and them would sound like tho 💀

Another perspective about this! But I think we’ve beaten this horse to death y’all. We just gotta wait and see.