#promising solutions to any negatives

[torchlitinthedesert]

Up for auction: 1971 letter from John, inviting Eric Clapton to join the Plastic Ono Band. John sounds excited and enthusiastic, filling eight pages with ideas for new approaches to touring (including a bit about performing/recording on a boat that gave me Get Back QE2 flashbacks, especially since he wants EMI to pay for it all. And make an experimental film of it.). John suggests people bring partners (who might appear on stage) and their families - interesting given how negative the rock press would be about that. I'm also rolling my eyes at the macho phrasing of "you could make the kind of sound that could bring back the Balls in rock'n'roll" - very early 1970s rock world.

It's a real charm offensive. John is working hard for Clapton's favour: repeatedly assuring him that he admires him, discreetly sympathising with Clapton's recent health problems (heroin addiction), promising he wouldn't have to do anything he didn't like and John will still "love and respect" him if he says no. He mentions Yoko often, but writes as "I" rather than JohnandYoko. He noticeably doesn't mention George or the other Beatles.

What's up for auction is a draft copy, with crossings out and omissions (I'm amused by "Dear Eric and", John presumably not being completely sure who Eric's current girlfriend was).

More images and transcript below the cut.

Dear Eric and

I've been meaning to write or call you for a few weeks now. i think maybe writing will give you and yours more time to think.

You must know by now that Yoko and i rate your music and yourself very highly, always have. you also know the kind of music we've been making and hope to make. Anyway the point is, after missing the Bangla-Desh concert, we began to feel more and more like going on the road, but not the way I used to with the Beatles - night after night of torture. We mean to enjoy ourselves, take it easy, and maybe even see some of the places we go to! We have many 'revolutionary' ideas for presenting shows that completely involve teh audience - not just the 'superstars' 'up there' - blessing the people - but that's another letter really.

I'll get more to the point. We've asked Klaus Jim Keltner, Nicky Hopkins - Phil Spector even! to form a 'nucleus' group (Plastic Ono band) - and between us all would decide what - if any - augmentation to the group we'd like - eg saxs, vocal group whatever we like, they all seem to agreed so far - and of course we had YOU!!! in mind as soon as we decided.

in the past when Nicky was working around (Stones etc) bringing your girl/woman/wife was frowned on - with us it's the opposite, Nicky's missus - will also come with us - on stage if she wants (Yoko has ideas for her!) - or backstage. Our uppermost concern is to have a happy group in body & mind. Nobody will be asked to do anything that they don't want to, no-one will be held to any contract of any sort - (unless they wanted to of course!)

back to music. i've/we've long admired your music - and always kept an eye open to see what your up to of late. [lately] i really feel real I/we can bring out the best in you - (some kind of security financial or otherwise will help) but the main thing is the music. I consider, Klaus, Jim, Nicky, Phil, Yoko, you could make the kind of sound that could bring back the Balls in rock'n'roll.

Both of us have been thru the same kind of shit/pain that I know you've had - and i know we could help each other in that area - but mainly Eric - i know i can bring out something great - in fact greater in you that has been so far evident in your music, I hope to bring out the same kind of greatness in all of us - which i know will happen if/when we get together.

i'm not trying to pressure you in anyway and would quite understand if you decide against joining us, we would still love and respect you. We're not asking you for your 'name', i'm sure you know this - its your mind we want!

Yoko and i are not interested in earning bread from public appearances, but neither do we expect the rest of the band (who mostly have familys) to work for free - they/you must all be happy monewise as well - otherwise what's the use for them to join us. We don't ask you/them to ratify everything we believe politically - but we're certainly interested in 'revolutionising' the world thru music, we'd love to 'do' Russia, China, Hungary, Poland, etc. A friend of ours just got back from Moscow, and the kids over there are really hip - they have all the latest sounds on tape from giant radios they have. 'Don't come without your guitar' was the message they sent us, there are millions of people in the East - who need to be exposed to our kind of freedom/music/. We can change the world - and have a ball at the same time.

We don't want to work under such pressure that we feel dead on stage or have to pep ourselves up to live, maybe we could do 2 shows a week even, it would be entirely up to us. One idea that i had which we've discussed tentatively (nothing definite) is goes like this,

I know we have to rehearse sometime or other, i'm sick of going on and jamming every live session. i've also always wanted to go across the Pacific from the U.S. thru all those beautiful islands - across to Australia, New Zealand, Japan - wherever, you know - Tahiti, Tonga - etc, so I came up with this

How about a kind of 'Easy Rider' at sea. i mean we get Emi or a sane film co, to finance a big ship with 30 people aboard (including crew) - we take 8 track recording equipment with us (mine probably) more equipment - and we rehearse on the way over - record if we want, play anywhere we fancy - say we film from L.A. to Tahiti, we stop there if we want - maybe have the film developed there - stay a week or as long as we want - collect the film, (of course we'll might probably film wherever we stop (if we want) and edit it on board etc. (Having just finished a movie we made around our albums 'imagine' 'fly' - it's a beautiful surreal film, very surreal, all music, only about Two words spoken in the whole thing! We know we are ready to make a major movie). Anyway its just a thought, we'd always stay as near to land as possible, and of coruse we'd take Doctors etc, in case of any kind of bother. We'd always be able to get to a place where someone could fly off if they've had enough. The whole trip could take 3-4-5-6 months, depending how we all felt - all familys children whatever are welcome etc. Please don't think you have to go along with the boat trip, to be in the band. I just wanted to let you know everything we've been talking about. (I thought we'd really be ready to hit the road after such a healthy restful rehearsal.

Anyway there it is, if you want to talk more please call me us, or even come over here to N. York. We're at the St. Regis here til Nov 30 at least (753-4500- ext | room 1701) all expenses paid of course! or write. At least think about it, please don't be frightened, i understand paranoia, only to well, i think it could only do good for you, and would bring to work with people who love and respect you, and that's from all of us. anyway enough of that, lots of love to you both from

John + Yoko

[scary-grace]

blind date (shigaraki x reader)

After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, 2k words.

this was originally in the x reader lovers community, but I figured I'd release it into the wild as well!

Part 1 Part 2

Part 1

Tomura gets being a little late. “A little late” is practically his middle name. He waits until the last minute to do almost everything, and that means any complications mean he’s running behind. Hypocrisy pisses him off so much that he tries to avoid it all costs, so that means he has to put up with it without bitching when somebody else is a little late, too.

Except half an hour isn’t a just a little late for anything, let alone a blind date Tomura didn’t want to go on in the first place. He’s been waiting outside the bar you were supposed to meet at for half an hour, and he’s pissed.

“That’s it,” he says after the eighteenth time a woman his age has walked past and hasn’t been you, whatever the hell you look like. “I’m out of here.”

“Just a little longer, honey,” Magne says. She’s smiling, but she’s also got her arm around Tomura’s shoulders, and if she squeezes any harder, Tomura’s going to pop like a balloon. “She’ll be here.”

“No, she won’t.” Tomura crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands in so nothing will bite them. They’re on the waterfront, in the summer, and there are insects everywhere. Whose dumb idea was this? “You showed her a photo of me and she changed her mind.”

“It’s a blind date,” Magne says. Like Tomura’s supposed to know what that means. “She doesn’t know what you look like, either. That’s why you have to stay right here and keep wearing that baseball hat. Otherwise she won’t know it’s you.”

Tomura hates the hat. Right now he hates everything. “So she got here on time, saw me, and left. Can I go?”

Magne shakes her head. “You promised you’d try.”

“I showed up. I waited for fucking half an hour. I’ve tried.” Tomura finally shoves Magne’s arm off his shoulders. “I’m done.”

Tomura wishes he could say he didn’t know how he got here, except he does. One of his friends is getting married, and there’s supposed to be a wild bachelor weekend in Vegas, one last blast of stupid before settling down. Most of the groomsmen are planning to hook up with as many people as possible, and that’s where the problems start. According to his friends, Tomura has no game. Zero game. Negative one hundred game. If he was rolling for his game stat, it would be a critical failure – and none of his friends want to babysit him when they could be getting laid.

Tomura wouldn’t want to babysit when he could be getting laid, either. His solution was to skip the bachelor weekend and just show up for the wedding in his stupid rented suit. But apparently his friends really want him to come to the party, and they decided that what he needed was to get some practice in before the trip. Which means that for the last month, Tomura’s spent every Friday night and weekend getting dragged through his own personal hell.

They made him try dating apps, which were a disaster, even though Tomura let Toga set up his profile and make the first move. Then they tried traditional online dating, which also sucked, because Tomura’s too picky and other people have standards. Hanging out in bars and clubs worked exactly how it’s always worked – it doesn’t – and when Dabi pulled out the big guns and dragged Tomura to the sex club where he met his fiancé, the only people who talked to Tomura were guys. Tomura thought that was sort of a good sign, even though he’s not into men, until he remembered that guys will fuck anything with a hole in it. He’s not high on himself on his best day, but that was a really shitty night.

He thought they were going to quit after that, but his friends had one last ace up their sleeve – a blind date, Magne’s idea, which Toga enthusiastically signed off on when she saw a picture of the woman Magne wanted to set Tomura up with. Toga’s type and Tomura’s type line up, sort of, and Spinner giving the photo two thumbs way up sealed the deal.

It’s not like Tomura was hopeful or anything. He just wanted to get his friends off his back. Still, rejection sucks, and ghosting sucks worse. He’d rather have you show up and tell him to his face that you weren’t interested than stand him up.

Magne collars Tomura again, but her phone starts ringing at the same time, Toga’s contact info popping up. “Don’t go anywhere,” she warns Tomura as she raises the phone to her ear. “We’re here. She’s not here yet. Can you tell him –”

Tomura ducks out from under her arm and books it into the crowd of people on the waterfront, figuring he can make it to the metro stop before Magne figures out which way he’s going. But even that can’t go his way today, because he runs into somebody who’s moving at warp speed in the opposite direction, colliding at the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. Tomura’s not confrontational, but it’s the wrong fucking day. “Can you watch where you’re going? It’s not like you matter to whoever you’re going to –”

“Are you Tomura?”

Tomura’s heart lurches. He stares hard at you as you right yourself, picking up the backpack you dropped in the collision. There’s no way this is happening. There’s no universe in which his blind date would be someone like you.

He can see right away why Toga and Spinner approved of you, but he thought you’d be someone in his league, not somebody who’s several kilometers above it. Maybe Tomura’s too excited that you actually showed up to evaluate what you actually look like. He looks away, then looks back. Nope – you’re still pretty, even though your face is flushed and you’re breathing hard like you’ve just been running. Did you run here to meet him? Only one way to find out. “I’m Tomura.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “My boss held me back at work, and I missed my train –”

You’re wearing some kind of work uniform. Scrubs, maybe. Are you a nurse? “And then I couldn’t decide whether to wait for another train or just run, so I ran – but I don’t really run, so it took even longer –”

Tomura doesn’t run, either. When he was doing the stupid online dating thing, he sorted out everybody who said more than one sentence about working out. You pause to suck down a breath, then keep talking. “I know everything I just said sounds like an excuse, and I know you’re leaving,” you say, “but I was hoping I could catch you so I could say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I get it if you want to call it off.”

Before Tomura can answer or even think about what he’s going to say, Magne bursts out of the crowd. “I told you not to run off,” she scolds, collaring Tomura again. “If you don’t stay put, there’s no way she’s going to – oh! You’re here!”

You nod. Magne looks you up and down. “I told you to dress cute,” she scolds. “And to get here on time. I practically had to chain him to a streetlight so he wouldn’t escape.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “My boss –”

“Of course,” Magne says, scowling. “He’s never met a good time he doesn’t want to ruin.”

Magne knows who your boss is? “How do you to know each other?”

“She’s a pharmacy tech at the place I go to pick up my E,” Magne says. “She’s the only one who works there who isn’t an asshole, and her boss is the biggest asshole of them all. I only go in there when she’s on and he’s off. But let me introduce you the right way. Shigaraki, this is – ”

Tomura misses your name the first time Magne says it, catches it the second time, but it barely registers except as something he probably shouldn’t forget. You’re pretty. You’re not an asshole, or at least you’re the same kind of asshole as Magne and everybody else Magne’s friends with, including Tomura. Your boss is the wrong kind of asshole, which means you probably didn’t blow Tomura off on purpose. And you ran here so you could meet him even when you knew you were really late. You must have really wanted to meet Tomura. What did Magne tell you about him?

Tomura can ask you about that later. “So?” Magne is saying expectantly. “Can I leave you two alone, or are you going to run away again?”

“No,” Tomura says. “You can go.”

You look surprised. “Um –”

“Now.”

Magne cackles. She snatches the hat off Tomura’s head, ruffles his hair, and slaps him on the back hard enough that he staggers. “Have fun! I want all the details later!”

“Sure,” you say, bewildered, as she kisses you on the cheek. Tomura’s going to have to talk to you about that – any details you share with Magne will be fair game for the rest of Tomura’s friends, and he’s not sure how much he wants them to know. “Um, bye.”

Magne waves and vanishes into the crowd. Now it’s just you and Tomura standing on the sidewalk. You shuffle off to one side, out of the way, and Tomura follows you. “Are you sure you still want to do this?” you ask once you’re both leaning against the railing. “I get it if you’re not in the mood. When I’ve gotten stood up, I haven’t wanted to –”

“You’ve never been stood up in your life,” Tomura says, and your expression changes from confused to offended. “Look at you.”

You look down at yourself, then back up at him. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t know anything about you and I got here on time. If I knew what you looked like beforehand I’d have been two hours early.” It sounded like a compliment in Tomura’s head, but he can’t tell if you’re taking it that way. “People like you don’t get stood up for dates.”

“I wish that were true,” you say. You look away. “I know how it feels. I get it if you don’t want to go out anymore.”

Tomura pretends he’s thinking about it. “How far did you run to get here?”

“Sixteen blocks.”

“You ran sixteen blocks to meet me. That cancels out being late,” Tomura says. You look up, surprised for a second or two before the relief kicks in. “I still want to go out.”

“Me, too,” you say. You smile at him. Women don’t usually smile at Tomura. People don’t usually smile at Tomura. He doesn’t know what to do with it. “Thanks, Tomura. For giving me a chance.”

“Yeah,” Tomura says. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”

“Same,” Tomura says. ‘Never’ counts as a while in his book. “I don’t know – grab drinks or something?”

You nod. “Can we find somewhere to sit down for a second first? I don’t usually run that much, and I don’t want to pass out on you.”

“You can pass out on me if you want,” Tomura says. You blink. Tomura facepalms even though you’re looking right at him. “There are benches back there.”

The crowd on the sidewalk is only getting denser. Tomura doesn’t want to get separated from you, so he tells you to hold onto the back of his shirt. You grab his hand instead, and you’re still holding it when the two of you find a place to sit down. Still holding it once you’re both settled, searching for something to talk about. Tomura’s not optimistic about this. You’re too good to be true – the kind of woman who’d run sixteen blocks to meet him and hold his hand is a kind of woman who doesn’t exist. Even so, it’s – nice. Tomura laces his fingers with yours and decides to enjoy it while it lasts.

[dondeeee911]

How your FS would be there for you during hard times

I care 4 you 🫶🏽

1>Gauze 2>Solution bottle 3>Scissors

Pile 1

Just relax and I’ll take care of youuuuu. Your person hates seeing you out of your natural element, it’s like... my poor baby!🥺. In most instances when you are not doing well they aren’t either quite frankly. They have this savior complex about you; they’ll risk themselves and pretty much anything to see your face light up, just once. They would want you nestled away at home where they know you are protected and reassured. A LOT of physical touch btw😩🥰👀 Your FS would cancel EVERYTHING to be away with you during this time. When they look at you, and they see those delicate eyes in a sunken place, they would quietly dismiss themselves, weeping lovely tears, tears for you 🥹. If only you could see how your person truly hurts for you😢🥺” Come here baby, let me comfort you”. They would sit in darkness with you allowing you to cry all your pain onto them. “Nobody should have to feel this pain, you shouldn’t have to feel this if only I could take your pain away, it’s okay baby i'm not going anywhere I promise”. 😭😭No worries, there is no need for you to check up on or get to any major duties. Your person has it all handled, just relaxxxx baby you are loved😚

Pile 2

“You are my rib, you are my everything I honorably desire to speak life into you”. A very affirmative spouse you have! From sun up to sun down, seven days a week if so be it, they will make it their priority to uplift you. Words are powerful and they know words have an impact on your life. They want to say the kindest and most uplifting things to you, your person wants you to feel soft and empowered from deep within. When you start to speak negatively or openly doubt yourself they are quick to correct you.  I CAN’T to I CAN type of energy. “ I won’t give up on you” l, I won’t ever stop trying”. Don’t take things personally, feeling like your FS is trying to fix you, they just won’t let you give up nor will they. Perhaps if you don’t say it they will say it for you! Looks like someone isn’t letting up🫢, they have faith in you and your self-affirmative actions. “Tell me you love me, tell me you care, tell me how strong I am🥺” they love how you make them feel needed when they exude dominance. “I love your whole existence, I will forever care about you, you are an amazingly strong person, you are resilient ” 🥹🥹

Pile 3

Presence and time. Your person knows a lot is going through your mind and babbbyyy YOU call the shots and they are there for you! ”Baby just pick up the phone and call on me”🤭They aspire to be there and listen, understanding you is all that matters. Possibly being scared to say the wrong things or misinterpret your feelings. I promise, they dont want to rush these moments with you; when you are ready so are they. Your FS understands that grief takes time and it’s different for everyone. They want to be remembered for what they contributed during this period, they want to look back 2 years from now and be appreciated for every second of the time they spent with you. *Blushing*🤭I see them encouraging you to truly feel your emotions, cry, write them out or even play your favorite sad songs. Don’t hold it in, let it all out. “ You look so pretty when you cry”🥹 

Copyright © 2024 dondeeee911. All rights reserved.

[lonely-cowboy]

without you

pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader

summary: it's been almost three days since you last saw connor. with the ongoing revolution, you're concerned about his whereabouts. and if you'll ever see him again.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: occasional cursing but that's it

author's note: let me paint a little picture for y'all. it's currently 1am and i'm sitting on the couch in the dark sobbing like a baby bc i just finished my very first playthrough of dbh and didn't even realize i was near the end and i hate that it's over (i'm just gonna play again). anyway! my solution to stop (worsen) my sad lonely thoughts was to write this! yippee! healthy coping!

masterlist ⟡ requests

You were never a fan of staying home all day and lounging around in your pajamas doing absolutely nothing. You felt unproductive, like you were wasting time. And if there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was wasting time.

But– like anything– there were some exceptions. The most common exceptions were the days after an intense investigation, mostly those involving considerable physical exertion (which really just meant any form of running). Those days, your body was so unbelievably sore that it was almost necessary for you to stay in bed and do nothing all day. Besides that, the only other exception was the occasional rainy day. 

And now. Now was an exception too.

It was nearing three days since you had last seen Connor. Usually, that wouldn’t have bothered you. Three days was nothing. It was always possible that the two of you were just far too overwhelmed with work to see each other. But with the rising android revolution that threatened Connor’s life– and that of any android– you immediately assumed the worst.

Huddled on your couch, you stared blankly at the muted television as it flashed between news stations. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, too consumed by thoughts of Connor. You pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

Truthfully, you hadn’t known Connor that long. Sure, you worked with him frequently to investigate the sudden rise in deviants, but in the grand scheme of things, it felt like you had just met him. Of course, that didn’t stop Connor from burrowing his way into your heart with those soft doe eyes and that gentle, slightly confused smile. You had a soft spot for him now, so it was perfectly reasonable that you couldn’t help but worry for his safety. 

You released a heavy sigh as you turned off the television, trying to shake away any negative thoughts. With narrowed eyes, you glanced at the other end of the couch where Hank had been sitting almost three hours ago. He had been checking in on you frequently the last few days to make sure you were– at the very least– living, though he would never admit it. Whenever he did stop by, it was always because he “forgot his jacket” or “couldn’t watch the Detroit Gears game at home.” Whatever lame excuse he came up with, it was always intended to ensure you were okay. 

Today’s lame excuse was that he ran out of beer and didn’t want to go to the store during such a “crazy fucking time.” That ended with the two of you sitting in silence on your couch, watching the television for any sign that Connor might be okay. In your book, that just meant he wasn’t dead.

But eventually, Hank had been pulled away to the precinct for whatever reason. He promised he’d make it short. He was reluctant to go anyway, so he wouldn’t be gone long. Three hours felt pretty fucking long to you.

You pursed your lips worriedly, forgetting Connor for a moment as your mind was now focused on Hank’s safety. What if he somehow got himself tangled up in this revolution? What if he managed to get caught in some wild crossfire with no means of telling you?

No, that was crazy. You were being irrational. Surely he just decided to brave going to the store to get some more beer once he left the precinct, right? That made so much sense. Obviously, he was outside your apartment building right now struggling to get in because he didn’t have a key and was too preoccupied carrying his mountains of beer. Obviously…

Without thinking, you scurried into your closet and pulled on your warmest clothes. You threw your thickest jacket over your pajamas, not bothering to hide your snowflake pajama pants. You pulled on your shoes and a beanie, ignoring the way it matted your hair. Then, you were out the door and rushing downstairs with the belief that you could miraculously manifest Hank’s presence.

There was no other explanation. You were blessed with some magical powers that you were yet to understand because as you marched into the snow, Hank suddenly appeared. You didn’t stop until you were jabbing a finger into his chest, glaring up at his towering figure.

“What is wrong with you?” you seethed. “You can’t just leave like that!”

Hank sighed with what sounded like irritation, though you knew he could never be irritated with you. He raised his hands in mock surrender as he grumbled, “Sorry, kid, I–”

“Oh, no, no, no! I’m not done!” you growled, choosing to ignore that maybe you were being a little overdramatic. What’s life without a little drama anyway? “You had me fucking worried, Hank! I’m already worried sick about Connor, I don’t have the energy to worry about both of you!”

Hank said your name in an attempt to stop you, but it was no use. Now that you had an outlet to channel your jumble of emotions, you were going to let them all out.

“I mean, you’ve seen me, Hank! I can barely get out of bed because of that goddamn android!” you shouted. “His safety is the only thing on my–”

Hank rolled his eyes as he grumbled something about how he was “tired of this shit” that didn’t involve him. That only seemed to fuel your fire, the crease between your brows deepening with anger and worry. You opened your mouth again to yell at Hank as he stepped aside, but you quickly shut it once you noticed the figure standing bashfully behind him.  

Connor stood a few feet away having clearly been told to stay put once Hank saw your angry self storming out of the apartment building. His hands were clasped neatly behind his back, standing tall against the harsh winter winds. His eyes were already on you, watching you with a warm glint. When you met his gaze, the corners of his lips turned upwards into a small, unsure smile. 

Compared to him, you were sure you looked absolutely stupid. No, no matter what you looked completely stupid. You stared at Connor with absurdly wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a confused fish. You were so baffled by his appearance that you couldn’t even move, no wonder the poor man was confused. All this while wearing your stupid fucking snowflake pajamas.

Neither of you made any effort to close the uncomfortable distance between the two of you. You were thankful that Hank managed to find his way back into your apartment building because you would be a doubly flustered mess if he saw how awkward the two of you were. At least Connor made some effort to communicate. He raised a hand in an awkward wave, his soft voice barely heard over the din of the wind. 

“Hello.”

Your feet were moving before your brain could catch up. You sprinted towards Connor– though it was more of a fast waddle if anything– and pulled him into a tight hug. A heavy sigh of relief left your lips as you felt his firm body against you, inhaling his scent slowly. He was real.

You squeezed him a little tighter, burying your head into his chest. It was as if you didn’t want to let him go, and truthfully, you didn’t. You couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

Connor’s arms wrapped lightly around your body. He leaned into your touch, relaxing in your arms with a comforted grin. Until you, he had no idea what it was like to be cared for. Perhaps the greatest gift of consciousness was your affection.

Connor murmured your name in a quiet rasp, his lips moving against your hair. He reared back to catch your eyes, but you refused to let him. You just held him closer and allowed yourself to calm in his presence. When you finally did pull away, you glanced at him with a confusing look of joy, sadness, and anger.

“I didn’t think you were ever coming back,” you mumbled, letting the words spill out. “I was so scared… Connor, I… God, I missed you…”

There was a beat of silence as Connor’s LED spiraled yellow, his head tilted to the slightest degree. It seemed as if he was struggling to find the right words out.

“I…,” Connor started hoarsely. “I think… I missed you too.”

Despite the whirlwind of emotions you felt, you couldn’t help but laugh at Connor’s words. A small smile traced your lips as you studied him with furrowed brows.

“You think?” you repeated with another quiet laugh, your breath pluming in the cold air.

Connor paused again, his LED flashing yellow once more. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it as he considered his words a moment longer. He was looking into the distance, but when he glanced back down to you it was as if all the right words suddenly came to him.

“I don’t know what it feels like to miss someone,” he explained softly. “But I think… I think this is what it would feel like. I felt… I don’t know… there was a tightness inside of me when I thought I would never see you again. Is that what it’s like to miss someone?”

Your grin widened as Connor spoke. A tinge of pink coated your cheeks, and you were sure it wasn’t just from the cold.

“Maybe I’m biased, but yeah, I think so,” you answered sweetly.

“Oh,” Connor muttered as he took a moment to process that information. “Then, yes. It appears I did miss you.”

Your chest felt light from the joy of having Connor back. You were so giddy, in fact, that you didn’t even think before you were leaning forward and pressing a delicate kiss to Connor’s cheek. It was only when you pulled away that you realized what you had done, your face heating with embarrassment.

You glanced at Connor worriedly and noticed the faint blue coloring along his cheeks. It almost made you laugh seeing such a confident android turned into such a poor, flustered mess. Well, you took his silence to mean his was flustered, but his silence lasted so long that you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Connor?” you asked. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Connor replied immediately. “I was searching my database for the best way to greet someone you missed.”

It was your turn to be flustered again, eyes going wide with surprise as you murmured, “Oh. And… what did you find?”

Connor’s gaze finally focused back on you, his expression neutral aside from his fading blush. The corner of his lip quirked up slightly as his eyes searched your face like he was memorizing every little detail.

“I found that the best way to convey you missed someone is by kissing them, as you’ve done to me,” he answered in his typical matter-of-fact tone. “However, whereas you kissed my cheek, I noticed that most people kiss on the lips. I’d like to do the same if that’s alright with you.”

Your stunned silence must’ve been enough of an answer for Connor because he leaned forward with a grin. His warm hands moved to hold your cheeks, fighting off the evening chill. Your hands immediately moved to rest over top his, seeking out his warmth while his soft lips moved against yours. He pulled away far too soon for your liking, but he rested his forehead against yours as he whispered sweet words against your skin. 

“I missed you too.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

author's note: i hope you enjoyed! this is my very first post ever, so i'm a little nervous! if you have any constructive (and kind) criticism, please lmk! and if you have any requests i'd love to hear those too :)

[reiding-writing]

building lego flowers with Spencer? :> he always gets reader flowers and they get sad when they wilt so he surprises them with the lego set and they spend a cozy afternoon together building them and drinking tea?

immortal [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer bought you flowers before every case he went on. But coming to your apartment after the case was finished and seeing that they’d wilted made his happiness to see you wilt along with their petals. Luckily for him, he’d seemed to find a more ‘immortal’ solution.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: boyfriend!spencer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: this request is so cute and it is also a preemptive apology for another request that i’m working on that is, you guessed it, full of angst, love you guys <333

Spencer would always buy you a bouquet of flowers before going off on a case. Always.

The minute his phone buzzed to call him into the office he was off to his local flower shop to buy you a bouquet to remind you of his love for you even in his physical absence.

The floral arrangement was different every time. Each bouquet fit with a handwritten card explaining the flora and its symbolism.

But by the time he return they’d often be wilted, an unfortunate reminder of just how much time he has to spend away from you.

And so he arrives at your apartment with an agenda, no longer able to stand the sight of flowers that should’ve been discarded days and sometimes weeks before when he returns to see you after a case is over.

You always tell him that it’s because they remind you of him, of how much he loves you even when you can’t see him. But the drooping flowers and brown stems that always greet him upon his return, whilst it might not bother you, made his shoulders slump with guilt about not spending enough of his time with you.

He knocks three times on your apartment door, an unusual cadence that you immediately recognise as you rush to let him in, clad in a pair of fluffy pyjamas with a bright smile on your face.

You capture him in a hug as soon as you open the door, a kiss planted fervently on his cheek.

Your smile doesn’t falter at his lack of his usual flowers when he arrives unannounced at your door, but you can’t help the small quirk of your eyebrow as you lean back to give him back some personal space.

“You’re off on another case already?” Your tone betrays the small amount of disappointment you’re feeling. He’d only returned the day before yesterday, promising you a museum date on the weekend to finally spend some more quality time together. Looks like you’d have to reschedule.

Spencer can’t stop himself from breaking into a sheepish grin at your greeting, but also has an air of determination about him, his left hand securely held behind his back as his right rubs your arm lovingly.

“No actually…” He can see the flicker of disappointment in your eyes morph into confusion, and he takes the opportunity to pull you towards him and press his lips to yours, hoping to kiss any lingering negativity in your mind into non-existence. “Can I come in?”

“Of course baby yeah,” You tug him into your apartment by his wrist, a strange rattling noise emanating from behind his back as he moves to kick your door closed behind him. “What’s that?”

You tilt yourself to look behind him, and he blocks your view as he turns himself in tandem with you. “You know how much I hate seeing the flowers I buy you wilted when I come to see you,”

“So… I… I thought… I think I might have found a solution?” He takes a second to figure out how to word his sentence, pulling out a rattling box from behind his back, four printed lego flowers decorating the front of it to indicate what’s inside.

Your eyebrows furrow a little further as your eyes examine the box before lighting up with an air of eagerness as you take the box in your hands to look at it in more detail. "You bought me lego flowers?"

“I did,” He chuckles, “I found them in the Target by my apartment, they cant replace real flowers but they’re a good substitute.” His beautiful hazel eyes are warm as he looks at you in amusement and the soft tone to his voice is calming.

“Now I know lego flowers isn’t what you were expecting from me… and I’m sorry if you were looking forward to a regular bouquet… but I promise you… these will never wilt.”

"They’re perfect Spence…" You give him a downturned smile at his thoughtfulness, how he’d found a way to immortalise the flowers he gave you.

You press your lips to his cheek to extend your gratitude, and the warmth that spreads through his entire being is something that words can't quite describe. "I'm glad you like them... " A genuine smile lights up his face as he wraps both arms around you in a tight hug, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I'm glad you exist."

You can’t help but chuckle at his final sentence, wrapping your arms securely around his torso with the box still in hand to return his hug, the lego pieces rattling with your movements. "I’m glad you exist too-"

At your words, he buries his face into your neck and sighs softly as he inhales your scent. It calms his nerves, and it makes him forget all the stress of work. Instead, all he can focus on is the warmth coming from your body and the feeling of your heartbeat against him. It’s a feeling he never wants to let go of.

"You’re going to build them with me right?" Your head leans against his shoulder as you essentially just stand in your doorway, completely intertwined with one another.

"Of course I am..." His voice is slightly deep and his tone gentle, "What sort of gentleman would give someone lego flowers without building it with them?" He chuckles before adjusting his arms to make himself more comfortable against yours.

"These lego flowers should be built together," He smiles, "And I want to do that with you."

“Good!” You release yourself from his embrace and press the box to his chest. “Clear off the coffee table and i’ll make us some tea,”

Your enthusiasm is infectious, his smile only growing as you retreat into your kitchen and leave him to set up.

You spend the rest of the afternoon huddled around your coffee table, meticulously assembling the four lego flowers whilst Spencer explained them to you.

He turned a newly finished pink lotus in his hands before gently placing it inside the glass vase usually reserved for the bouquets he would buy you. “Lotus flowers, or Nelumbo nucifera, symbolise strength, resilience and rebirth,”

The plastic makes a small clinking sound as it collides with the bottom of the vase. “They are also a staple of purity, as despite growing from murky freshwater ponds, there are no stains of the flower’s petals, usually a bright white or a pale pink.”

You nod enthusiastically at his explanation as you place your own finished flower into the vase alongside his, a bright synthetic floral arrangement slowly developing.

This new form of flowers doesn’t stop Spencer from buying you a bouquet before every case he goes on.

Except now, each arrangement is joined not only by a small card, but also a box with the lego replication of whichever flora he chooses, adding to your lego arrangement one by one until it’s more extravagant than any organic bouquet could ever hope to be.

The plastic flowers prove immortal beyond any normal flower’s capability.

A perfect mirror of his love for you.

One that would never wilt.

[paluding]

Owned Restaurant Profit Increase

Two versions to download:

-Double profit: SFS / GD

-Triple profit: SFS / GD

Choose only one version!

We all know how hard it is to maintain a restaurant business in The Sims 2, right? You barely make any money and, if you have some employees to get paid hourly, there's a good chance you'll even end up losing money. Well, once again I've been digging through the files for a while until I've found something to fix this issue. I have to say, this is not the ideal solution at all, but it still makes the business actually profitable, so I thought it might be worth sharing anyways. This tiny mod edits just one single BCON value, and it's super easy to tune to your liking! A lot of technical details, a tutorial on how to tune it, and a big testing research under the cut (bear with me please, I promise it's worth reading).

So the way an unmodded game moves money in a restaurant business goes like this: the moment your waiter puts the dish on the customer table, you get a small percentage of the price of the food deducted. Then, once the customer finishes eating, they pay you the full price of that food (based on how expensive or cheap you set your business). Simple enough, right? Ideally, the best solution would be increasing the price of the food, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't find those values anywhere. So what's left on the equation? Yup, that small percentage you get deducted first. I was lucky enough to find that one, so changing it to a negative value means you actually get extra paid first. And that money comes from nowhere, the customer doesn't pay extra, they only pay the price of the actual food. That works for me!

As a quick example, in a new business with 0 stars, if you keep the default price on average, you always gain 28 simoleons for serving a bowl of Mac N Cheese. However, you also get deducted 4 simoleons first, so it's actually 24 simoleons per customer. That's just sad. The Double version of my mod makes it so you get 22 simoleons first, and then the customer pays those 28 simoleons. That's a total of 50 simoleons per customer. More than double the profit, not bad! The Triple version gives you a total of 71, pretty self explanatory. The numbers don’t match exactly with double or triple profits, but I didn’t want to spend that much time finding the exact value to make it exactly double or triple, you know, especially considering there might be other factors that affect your business income. I’m not that good at maths to be honest... orz

So how do you tune this? All you need is SimPe. Open the package, click on the BCON file and edit line number 14, on the Dec box. The default Maxis value was 20. I changed it to -100 to get roughly double the profit, and -200 to get triple profit. If you want to increase the profit even more, make sure you keep it negative when changing the value! Then just click Commit and Save. Done!

One extra note before I continue. The extra money you get with the mod does count for the balance you see on the UI menu for the business on the top right. So if you like to keep track of your income, the mod will take effect on those bars. However, it won’t count for things like the First Simoleon prize thingy. So for now I’m not really sure if this extra money would count for other things such as Lifetime Wants related to gaining money. I haven’t tested it that much.

Okay, now you know almost everything you need to know about this mod. If you want to read some ramblings on how I tested this, keep reading. Otherwise, you’re good to go!

So, let’s talk testing, because that’s something I actually enjoy doing. I built a simple restaurant lot, with about 5 tables available. The conditions were:

-3 Sims from my household to work as host, waiter and chef. No external employees, so I don’t need to keep track of extra salaries to pay.

-Schedule is roughly 15:00 - 22:00.

-New business level 0. Prices were kept at the default average.

-I didn’t use the Basic Sell interaction. If the customer didn’t want to eat at my restaurant, then so be it.

-The chef had 10 points of cooking skill, so I could add any food to the menu. However, I only chose one food to cook to keep the profit numbers as consistent as possible.

For the first case, I chose cooking only Mac N Cheese, a very cheap food that makes almost no money at all. It doesn’t require any cooking skill points. Mac N Cheese gives you 28 simoleons when the Sim pays. -In an unmodded game, you also lose 4 simoleons, so it’s 24 simoleons per customer. After running the business for the set schedule, I got 240 simoleons of profit. Pretty disappointing! If I had employees to pay, I would only have a few simoleons to spare, if any at all. -With my Double version of the mod, you get an extra 22 simoleons, making a total of 50 simoleons per customer. After running the business with the mod in, I got 400 simoleons. Not much, but hey, it’s something.

For the second case, I chose Filet Mignon. This food is pretty fancy, and it requires max cooking skill. Filet Mignon gives you 83 simoleons when the Sim pays. I also noticed the customers take way less time to eat it compared to the Mac N Cheese, so that’s an extra bonus to make the business run faster. -In an unmodded game, you also lose 13, so it’s 70 simoleons per customer. After running the business, I got 630 simoleons of profit. Not bad, but considering you need to max out the cooking skill, it’s almost insulting spending so many hours just to get that… -With my Double version of the mod, you get an extra 65 simoleons, making a total of 148 (!) simoleons per customer. After running the business with the mod in, I got 1036 simoleons. Okay, nooow we’re talking! That's the fancy restaurant status I like to see.

You might be wondering why these numbers are so inconsistent. Well, sometimes my lovely waiter decided to drop the tray on the customers, poor guy. That added to the randomness of how customers decide to enter the restaurant or not, and if the game sits more than one customer on the table or just one of them, if someone gets stuck for a while losing time… all of that can end up making the results a bit inconsistent. That being said, I had better luck when I was running the business without the mod in, yet I still got quite a lot more money with the mod in. I didn’t keep track of the numbers for the Triple version, but as you can probably guess, that one would be even more profitable.

One last case I wanted to test and compare: a completely different type of business, a games and entertainment one using the Bandatron ticket machine. In that scenario, I got 21 simoleons per customer, each hour. So after that schedule of 15:00 - 22:00, I got a total of 789 simoleons! All my sim did during those hours was bartending. That shows how easy it is to run a business with a ticket machine, and the biggest advantage is that you don’t have to pay employees if you don’t need them, and you don’t need any skills at all. Just plop down that machine, put some objects, relax and let the money flow by itself.

So yeah, in conclusion, Eaxis really messed up programming the restaurant businesses, there’s no doubt about it. Hopefully my mod helps balance things out. And if you think it's still too low on the incomes department, you can always tune it to your liking! As far as I know, this should not conflict with anything, but if you run into any issues, let me know and I’ll try my best to fix it asap.

Special thanks to EddySims for their fantastic HQ Icon Pack I used to make the preview pic! <3

[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[readsaboutreid]

Permanent Solution (part II) | S.R.

contains: lots of discussion of suicide, other typical criminal minds violence, heavy heavy angst but a happy ending (i promise!), MORGAN GETS REDEEMED

look i'm sorry to put spencer and reader through so much pain T-T but also i wanted to use my own negative thoughts in a better way than just stewing in them so i adapted them to fit this

i also had someone request that i tag them so i guess if you'd like for me to tag you in future posts lmk and i'll add you onto a taglist! when you request just specify if you want to be tagged for a specific part 2 (or continuation of a specific story) or tagged for any future fics :)

Spencer jolted awake, the faint ringing of his alarm clock dragging him out of sleep. He sat up and rubbed his sore neck, wondering why his alarm sounded like it was in a different room. And then the memories from the previous night came rushing back to him, and he realized that it sounded that way because it was, in fact, coming from a different room. He had fallen asleep on the couch, Dr. Mewshroom taking up (Y/N)’s usual place wrapped in his arms. He checked his phone, no missed calls from her (but about 20 from Garcia, and only one voicemail, also from Garcia), and the clock on its little digital screen told him it was 6:30 AM. He got up and went into the bedroom, checking to see if maybe she had decided against waking him. Anxiety rushed through his veins when he saw the empty bed, and he called her phone again, which rang four times before going to voicemail.

“Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. (Y/L/N), I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number, I’ll return your call as soon as I am able. Thanks!” Beep.

He swallowed, struggling around the lump forming in his throat. He got a call from Hotch right as he started getting dressed for a day off (much earned after their last case). “I’m sorry, Reid, but I need you and (Y/L/N) here immediately. We have a new case, local, and we need all hands on deck for this one. I need you two in the briefing room in 20 minutes.” Spencer groaned internally at the prospect of back-to-back cases but confirmed that he’d be there. Then, he covered for (Y/N)’s absence. He said that she was sick and couldn’t leave the bathroom for longer than five minutes at a time and that seemed to be all the convincing Hotch would need. “Since the case is local that’s fine, she can join us when she recovers. But get here ASAP, Reid.” Click.

Spencer took a deep breath to calm the anxiety bubbling in his gut and chest. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it hadn’t happened since they had moved in together five months ago. Since she had stopped taking The Walk. He took a deep breath and assured himself that the chances of (Y?N) being missing were slim-to-none.

Spencer walked through the glass doors of the BAU and hurried to the round table, the last one of the team to enter. He nodded to Garcia, Prentiss (who looked like she had a very fun mystery date the previous night), Hotch, and Rossi. He pointedly ignored the greetings of both JJ and Morgan, the latter rolling his eyes slightly at the passive aggressive behavior.

“Reid, glad you could make it. Okay JJ, fill us in,” Hotch nodded to JJ, who stepped forward and placed a file in front of each of them.

"Where's (Y/N)?" Penelope asked Spencer, giving him a confused and worried look. He avoided her gaze as he muttered something about her having a stomach bug while he took his seat.

“Last night, a body turned up in the Anacostia River, near the 11th Street bridge,” JJ began as she placed files in front of each of them. Spencer’s blood ran cold, and his stomach dropped at her words. Not there, anywhere but there.

“It’s the third body they’ve found this month, and the timeframe between bodies seems to be around the same each time, one week. All the victims are female, mid-to-late 20s, and all three had a history of multiple suicide attempts," she explained, pulling up some of the crime scene photos on the projector in front of them.

“Hold up, JJ,” Morgan interjected, “if all three victims have a history of suicidal tendencies, how do we know these aren’t just run-of-the-mill suicides?”

“Each body was disposed of in a large black trash bag,” Hotch explained.

“That and they found evidence of torture as well as ligature marks on the wrist and ankle of each of the victims,” she elaborated, switching the slide to show some of the coroner’s photos. Electrical burns littered the torso of the victim on the slide, and Spencer's stomach churned at the sight. She looked so much like (Y/N) it was uncanny.

“Each victim has a similar build and they've all got the same hair cut and color,” Prentiss observed, “maybe a surrogate for the Unsub’s real target?” Please, no.

"Could be a mother or girlfriend," Rossi speculated. "Do the DC police have any idea of where he's taking his victims from, or is it just the dump site that they know? And are there any witnesses?"

"Until last night, the victims had all been taken from their homes with no witnesses on what the police assume were the same nights the previous victims' bodies had been dumped," JJ answered, "but last night he seems to have escalated and abducted someone straight from the bridge itself according to a nearby eyewitness, a man who had been out for a late night jog. They found this—" she clicked to the next slide, "at the scene, along with the victim's cell phone, both of which have been bagged as evidence and are at the local precinct."

Spencer’s world came to a crashing, burning halt. In the image on the screen was a rather generic looking, but still all too familiar, green knit cardigan and black cell phone with a cracked screen. No one else had seemed to put it together yet, except perhaps Rossi, who had shifted his gaze to Spencer.

"Do we know the identity of the most recent abductee—" Prentiss had started to ask before Spencer had to stand and run to the trash can to vomit.

"That's some stomach virus," Rossi mused, giving Spencer a concerned and knowing look.

"Reid? Are you alri—" Prentiss was cut off again, this time by Hotch.

"Prentiss, Morgan, go to the location where the bodies were found, and the most recent victim abducted. Track down the eye witness through any means possible and interview him. Rossi and JJ, you two head to the precinct. Reid, my office. Now." Hotch issued the orders with a deeper sense of urgency than usual. Spencer stood and shakily walked to Hotch's office after the rest of the team had hurried off, and as soon as Hotch entered and closed the door behind him Spencer’s legs gave out, leaving him to collapse onto his knees.

"Talk,” Hotch said, his tone dangerously quiet.

"(Y/N)'s not sick," he managed to choke out between the gasping sobs that now wracked his chest. "Di-didn't— come home— last night," his words were punctuated by gasping breaths. "M-my sweater— wearing my sweater—" he couldn't breathe, and his vision was like looking through a tunnel, the edges getting darker and pushing in more and more with each second, he struggled to inhale. He shouldn't have gone home last night. He should have gone after her.

"And you have reason to believe she was at the 11th Street bridge?" Hotch questioned.

"She used to walk there every night," Spencer jumped at the sound of Garcia's hollow voice coming from behind him. He hadn't even noticed her come in through his panicked haze. "When she first started here. It's why she always looked so tired those first five months, because she'd barely sleep. She'd walk there and pace back and forth along the bridge. Sometimes she'd just sit on the railing."

"Sh-she hasn't been there in months," Spencer's voice was hoarse, "but last night she— something happened that upset her and she walked off—" another round of sobs forced their way out. "Hotch, he's gonna—" Spencer reached for the trash can next to Hotch's desk and vomited again, and again.

"Spencer," Hotch knelt in front of the young agent, gently moving the trash can to the side. "Deep breaths. I know you're terrified. If you need to take yourself off the case, don't worry. We'll find her."

"Off the case?" He panted, trying to steady his breathing.

"Well you're clearly in no state to be doing much of anything. I don't think anyone on the team would blame you for having to step back on this one," Hotch reasoned.

"What? No, no I've got to find her!" He felt his head clearing a bit as his breathing finally returned to a normal rhythm, his vision slowly returning until he could see the full room properly.

"Reid, are you sure that’s a good idea—"

"Hotch," Spencer interrupted, "I can't just do nothing while he tor—" he reached for the trashcan and vomited yet again at the thought of what the Unsub was going to do to her, what he probably already was doing to her; he was honestly surprised there was anything left for his stomach to throw up at this point. “I can’t just sit by and watch, knowing that every second she’s there with him she’s being subjected to one sort of torture or another.”

Hotch paused and observed Spencer briefly before he rose to his feet and offered Spencer a hand to help him stand, as well. “Take a few minutes to compose yourself and then meet me at the SUV downstairs. We’ll head to the precinct together and you can fill me in on what happened that upset her last night. It might help with the victimology, which you’re going to be working on with me for now since you know (Y/N) better than anyone else.”

“Thank you, Hotch,” Spencer managed to force out, the words quiet and trembling. Hotch left the office and Garcia lingered, giving Spencer a look of pure sorrow.

“I— I’m so sorry, Spencer,” she began, an echo of their conversation outside of the bar last night.

“Garcia, this isn’t your fault,” he responded, continuing the reprisal.

“When you didn’t call me last night I—I just figured that you two had—I don't know—kissed and made up and fallen asleep, I didn’t realize that she never even made it home,” her voice broke on the very last word, and her hand shot up to her mouth as sobs began to escape. Spencer’s legs were still shaky, but he managed to cross the room to her and give her a tight embrace. “I—no, you shouldn’t have to comfort me right now, Spencer, I’m sorry!”

“Consider this me returning the favor from yesterday,” he muttered, his own voice tearful while he kept holding on to her. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Spencer, you have to find her before he can—”

“I know. I will,” he said, trying his very best to sound determined. Instead, his voice came out sounding more like that of a frightened boy than a grown FBI agent.

“What’s going on with Reid?” Emily asked Derek, giving him a quizzical look from the passenger seat of the SUV.

“Last night I sort of went off on (Y/N) after one too many glasses of whiskey and I may have told her nobody wanted her there,” he confessed, shame swirling in his head as he drove. He didn’t really dislike her; he found her demeanor slightly off-putting, but he had felt the same way about Reid when he first joined the team, and she was an excellent profiler, so the least he could do was give (Y/N) the same benefit of the doubt he had given Reid. “Garcia tore me a new one after he had come back into the bar and told us that she had broken things off between them because of my...outburst.”

“Damn it, Morgan,” Emily muttered, flipping through the file in her hands. “You see, this is why we can’t have nice things!”

“Look, look, I know I was wrong about what I said to her, but I can’t turn back the clock. I’ll just have to find her and apologize once she’s feeling better.” They approached the 11th Street bridge, and he stopped the car and put it in park. They both stepped out into the crisp morning air, a light fog slightly obscuring their vision.

“According to the witness statement, this guy was out for a late-night jog when he called the non-emergency police line after seeing a man toss what the was presumed to be trash into the river in a giant black trash bag,” Emily recited what she had read from the file on the drive there. “But he called 911 when he said he heard what sounded like the start of a scream and then saw the struggle before saying the woman went entirely limp. Report says he tried to catch up with the Unsub, who then got into an unmarked black van and drove away.”

"Looks like the CSI team may have missed something," Derek called out to Emily as he caught a glimpse of what looked like an earring and some dried blood under some fallen leaves on the bridge. He snapped a glove onto his hand, and when he pushed the leaves aside he felt his blood run cold. He'd recognize this earring anywhere. "Oh, no."

"I-I like your earrings," a soft, small voice spoke from behind Derek and Penelope as they did their morning flirting routine. They both turned and saw the newest member of the team looking shyly at Penelope.

"Oh these? Thanks! You know, I could make you a pair if you'd like," Garcia smiled at (Y/N), whose eyes widened in panic.

"O-oh! No, don't worry, y-you don't n-n-need to trouble yourself like that!" The young agent hurried off in a panic.

"That was...weird," Derek mused to himself as he walked to his desk.

"I guess she decided to take up Garcia's offer on a pair of her own after all," he muttered, his voice sorrowful.

"What'd you find, Morgan?" Emily asked as she made her way over. "Is that one of Garcia's earrings? How'd that get here?"

"She had offered to make a pair for (Y/N) right around the time she joined the team," Derek explained before looking up to find Emily's face falling at the realization.

"Oh, god," she gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "Bag that, I'll call Hotch and let him know what we found."

"I'll also call Garcia, ask her to get the address of the witness. We got to get (Y/N) out of there ASAP." Derek pulled out his phone and dialed Garcia.

"What, Derek?" She snapped, and Derek had to fight every urge in his body to playfully argue with her to try to lessen her anger with him. There were more pressing things he had to talk about right now.

"Hey, Garcia, we found something at the scene," he began, "it was, uh, an earring you had made for (Y/L/N) from the looks of it. Got a little bit of dried blood on the post." He took in a deep breath before adding on, "I'm sorry." The line was silent for a minute before she finally spoke again.

"Poor Reid," she whispered, her voice tearful. He could hear her take a shaky breath before she asked, "what, uh, what do you need me to do?"

"I need the address of the witness, a man named Jonathan Levi," he he explained.

"Yeah, uh, yeah I can get that for you right now," she said, her voice growing stronger. He could almost see her wiping her tears from her cheeks as he heard her sniffle on the other end. "I'm sending it to your phone now. And Derek?"

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"You find this son of a bitch," she said before the line disconnected.

"We will," he said to himself.

"Prentiss," Hotch's voice came through Emily's cell phone, "what have you been able to learn from the crime scene?"

"Uh, well not very much, yet. Morgan's calling Garcia to get the address of the witness so we can interview him," she answered, trying to keep her voice from sounding shaky. She failed.

''But?" Hotch pressed.

"...but we did find an earring with some dried blood on the post that was missed under some leaves," she added, swallowing nearly audibly. "Earrings that—that Morgan thinks Garcia had made for (Y/L/N) a little while back."

"Thanks, Prentiss. I've got Reid with me, I'll let him know what you've found," Hotch said before the line disconnected.

"—yeah, baby girl?" She heard from where Morgan stood, followed by a determined, "We will."

"Prentiss!" He called out, heading to the black SUV. "Garcia sent me the address, can you drive?" He tossed her the keys and she caught them, jogging over to the drivers' seat.

"Reid, you doing okay?" Rossi asked him as they rushed to the home they had finally tracked the Unsub to.

"I—I just—," he stammered, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I just hope we get to her in time." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"We know he keeps them for a week. It's only been three days," Spencer felt Rossi's hand land on his shoulder. "She's a fighter, Spencer. You know that better than anyone else here."

The address Garcia had tracked down for them led them to the fairly large but still dilapidated house of a man named Andrew Warren, a CNA at a local mental facility who lost his parents in a double suicide as a child, and then his older sister to suicide a month ago after she had gone through multiple rounds of ECT as a teenager in the 1990s.

The other SUV containing Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan arrived at the house slightly before theirs and Spencer could see as his coworkers stopped the car and raced towards the door of the house. Morgan kicked down the door and raced inside right as Hotch put their vehicle in park and Spencer was out of the door before he could hear any of Hotch's orders. He didn't care about orders, right now. All he cared about was getting the love of his life to safety.

As he ran over the threshold of the house, he heard shouting coming from up a bunch of old stairs. He took the steps two at a time and he went up each floor until he finally reached what seemed to be the third floor landing. The shouting became more distinct as he approached and he could make out Morgan negotiating with the Unsub.

"She's weak," the Unsub spat, followed by a whimper from (Y/N) that sent a stab of pure fear through his gut. "Weak members of our species like her need to be removed from the gene pool."

"Drop the knife, Andrew," Spencer heard Morgan say in a calm voice as he rounded the final corner and the entire situation came into his view. The Unsub had (Y/N) in front of him with a knife held to her throat, both of them standing before a large, open window. She was in nothing but her underwear and bra and had multiple electrical burns marring her skin. (Y/N) made eye contact with Spencer and tears started streaking down her cheeks as she mouthed I'm sorry to him, sending a crack through his chest.

"Don't come any closer!" The Unsub screamed as he finally noticed Spencer approaching with his gun drawn. Spencer's eyes widened as he slowly put his gun back into the holster and then raised his hands just as slowly. He halted his steps and took a deep breath.

"It's okay, Andrew," Spencer attempted to sound calm and collected through his panic. "I'm just trying to help."

Spencer looked around the room at JJ and Prentiss who were flanking Morgan in the center, both with their guns drawn. He could hear Hotch and Rossi approaching behind him and he turned and softly told them, "stay back." He then started slowly approaching again as he turned to the Unsub. "I know what you've been through, Andrew," he said, his voice steadier than he thought it would be.

"You lost your parents in a double suicide when you and your sister were little. Your foster parents would torment you and your sister and blamed you both for the way you reacted to the trauma you had been through and your sister ended up institutionalized after a suicide attempt at 17. Once she got out and took custody of you when she turned 18 and you were 16, she had trouble being able to keep up with everything. She started harming herself," Spencer took another shaky breath as he slowly continued forward, watching as tears welled in Andrew's eyes. "And then you lost her, too, when she jumped from the 11th Street bridge a month ago."

"Sh-she was weak, just like my mom and dad." Andrew responded, but his voice cracked and faltered.

"No, Andrew, they weren't weak. They were sick," Spencer reasoned with him. "Your sister was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, just like your parents. She was sick and in pain. She wasn't weak."

"She was weak," Andrew said. "She left me here all alone!"

"I know," Spencer said, the slightest amount of relief sparking within him as the knife at (Y/N)'s throat began to lower. "I know she did. You can't blame yourself, though, Andrew. It's not your fault. They needed help that you couldn't give by yourself, and that's not your fault. Just let her go and we can get you the help that you need." He pleaded with him, his voice wavering slightly as he looked (Y/N) in the eye again and saw all of the fear and pain radiating from them.

"No," Andrew responded as tears streaked down his face. "I can't—" As he raised the knife back to (Y/N)'s neck, Spencer heard the sound of gunfire and watched in terror as Andrew started to fall backward with his arms still around (Y/N). Spencer tried to run to her but didn't make it before they fell through the open window.

"No!" Morgan shouted as he lunged forward, grabbing (Y/N)'s hand right as she fell backward out the window. Andrew's lifeless body plummeted to the ground beneath them, landing with a crunch. "Hold on, (Y/L/N), I've got you!" He called to her as she dangled from the window, his hand her only lifeline.

Spencer rushed forward to his side before reaching his own hand out the window toward (Y/N), and together they pulled her back up through the window. They moved back and Morgan closed the window as Spencer wrapped (Y/N) into his arms while she sobbed in relief.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered into his chest over and over. Spencer just held her close and kept assuring her that she had nothing to apologize for.

I sat on the back lip of the ambulance, a blanket around my shoulders in some borrowed clothes. Spencer refused to leave my side until he was called away by Hotch. "I'll be right back, okay, love?" He looked at me before giving my forehead a soft, gentle kiss and then walked over to our boss.

"(Y/N)," I heard from a few feet away. I turned and was faced with Derek Morgan.

"M-Morgan," I stammered as my eyes widened. "I-I'm so sorry—"

"Stop, (Y/N). You don't have to apologize to me for anything," he started, "I'm the one who needs to be apologizing for my behavior."

"I—you just kept me from being dragged out of a window and likely breaking my neck. You don't owe me anything. I owe you my life." I muttered, looking at the ground.

"You don't owe me anything. I did the same thing for you that I would have done for any other member of this team," he looked at me while I kept my gaze on the ground in front of me. "Look at me, (Y/N)." I looked at him and he looked me right in the eye as he said, "my behavior the other night was uncalled for. "This team is a family, and you are a vital part of that family. We need you, Spencer needs you, and I'm so, so sorry. I hope that you'll let me try to make it up to you in the future."

Vital. He called me vital. That word clanged through me and I broke down crying again. He wrapped me in a bear hug and apologized again. "Th-thank you, Derek." I said, my voice small as I hesitantly wrapped my arms around him in return.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he said one more time before releasing me. The paramedics approached and asked if anyone was going to accompany me to the hospital.

"Reid!" Morgan called to Spencer, who had just finished up with Hotch. Spencer raced back to us, his eyes widening and growing concerned when he saw my fresh tears.

"What's wrong?! Is everything okay?" He asked as he gently grabbed me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes. I closed my eyes and nodded, unable to form any words. Vital. I'd never felt that I was wanted or needed anywhere I'd been in my life, much less vital to anyone or anything.

"Paramedics wanna know if you're gonna accompany her to the hospital," Morgan explained, and Spencer agreed in a heartbeat. I was then loaded onto a gurney and into the ambulance, one of the paramedics and Spencer following behind.

Vital. As I looked at Spencer, he grabbed by hand and pulled it up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. "I'm so happy you're alive," Spencer whispered to me, his hand moving to stroke some of my hair out of my face. "I love you, (Y/N)."

@busy-buzzing here's part 2 sorry it took so long!

[ao3komorii]

Lonely Regrets (Yone/Reader)

Yone is finally done! Taking a break and then next will be Heartsteel Sett. Hope everyone enjoys :)

----

There was so much blood.

Your parents’ empty eyes stared back at you, limbs twisted unnaturally, bodies broken. Blood like a red lake covered the entire ceremonial chamber, the blood of every member of your village spilled for only you left to see.

“Oh, dear daughter of sorrow,” the twisted black shadow above you purred as it grew only larger, its blurry shape hard for you to make out its form in any detail. “Your soul will be the most delicious.”

So then why were you still alive?

You had watched with wide eyes as the shadow had grown, had overtaken all of the white walls with its deep black, before it had seemed to snap, disappearing and leaving you to your world of red.

You had thought that day would be boring, filled with expectations you had lived your life being ready to meet. Your ascension to official leader-to-be of your village, a position promised to you as the only child of the current leader. Your eighteenth birthday was supposed to be a joyous day for the village, but now the only person that remained of the village was you.

When your parents had told you of a surprise, a deal they had made to ensure the prosperity of the village and the strength of your leadership, you had assumed they had bartered a marriage partner for you, or made a deal with a nearby village. A deal with a demon had been so far out of the realm of possibilities that you never could have thought of it in a million years.

It was clear the demon had not intended to keep to any terms as it rose from the floor, a dark shape of too many teeth and eyes… and took the heads off of half of the village in one cruel swipe. Your parents had been terrified, outraged, but all they heard in response as they screamed their last screams was the demon’s laughter, the last sound they ever heard as they too fell to the ground in pieces.

But why had it left you alive? The demon’s words spoken to you in that room that stunk of blood still haunted you, even ten years later, even now that you knew more about the demonic azakana.

Demons with endless hunger who preferred to slowly feed on a person’s negative emotions before consuming them entirely, and then onto the next victim. Each azakana had its own preference for certain emotions, whether it be rage or despair or loneliness. And as someone who had experienced all three, you had seen and killed more than your fair share of azakana since that day, but you had never found the one that killed your village.

You had been a walking azakana magnet for years before a solution had prowled its way into your life.

You had been staring down a tempting abyss, a cliffside overlooking a pit of thorny spikes so far below, an easy way out that would be so much simpler than continuing your lonely life of pain. Just a few steps, and you would no longer have to carry the mantle of last of your village, no longer have to fight for your life every other week, you would just be nothing.

It was then that you sensed something behind you, turning sharply with your daggers at the ready to see a four-legged jagged shape of darkness with a bone white demonic mask on its face, its hungry eyes focussed in on you.

You had prepared for a fight, but staring at the unmoving azakana, you momentarily wondered if it would be better to just give up, to stop living this life of loneliness and pain and go fully into the dark.

Through your contemplation, the azakana stayed still and silent, and if not for its horrific shape, you could almost have thought it was just a curious animal, but this one was seeking your soul rather than some scraps of food.

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe the silent stare, unknowing of your past, only seeking to fill its belly, that made you open your mouth instead of its flesh with your blades. Nobody understood, nobody would be able to hear your story without sprinting away from you. And nobody would ever hear your story if you died here. With those thoughts in mind, you spoke, quietly regaling the animal-like azakana of your pain, your loss, of every emotion you felt since that day.

You didn’t know how long you had been talking for, just that by the end, you were on the ground, tears soaking your face as you stared at the still-silent azakana through tear-blurred eyes as your words turned fully into sobs.

It was then that the silent azakana moved, slinking towards you like a predator. Your chest felt tight, but not with fear, instead feeling the full weight of all of your bad memories still heavy on your heart, hardly a surprise given how emotionally repressed you had been for so long.

Closing your sore eyes, you expected your death to come, but were instead surprised by the brush of thick fur against your skin, opening your eyes to see the azakana nuzzling its masked face against your side, a deep red glow surrounding its body.

You were stunned, having never seen anything like this with any azakana you had encountered in the past three years. The interaction was almost petlike, if you had a demon for a pet.

You slowly began to notice that the longer you sat there with the azakana’s head in your lap, the lighter the ache in your chest felt. It was as if your feelings were flowing into the beast, but instead of feeling numb and close to death, you just felt… better. Better than you had felt since your village had died.

Many would call it a parasitic relationship, but you preferred to look at it as symbiotic. You occasionally fed him your worst emotions, and you could get through your days unhunted by azakana, instead able to become the hunter yourself.

The azakana was only able to talk as much as an animal could, and you had named him Kosen, after a gentle tiger in your favorite bedtime story that your mother had told you as a child. You could hardly pass through towns with an azakana at your side, so Kosen had been taking to staying in the form of a white tiger and that was how you had lived for the past seven years.

It was easier to be around people now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to settle down in one place, still afraid to develop any relationships only for them to be taken away. You had contacts all over Ionia, but you were the strange woman with the magic daggers and the tiger, not someone anyone could call a close friend, aside from Kosen.

And now, many years after your first azakana encounter, you and Kosen were on the trail of a firey azakana who had left too many charred corpses behind to possibly be a coincidence.

You had finished bathing in the spring you had come across on your way to the next village, redressed and intent on scouting the area for anything edible, Kosen stubbornly remaining in the water, as he always did whenever you found a body of water big enough for him to lounge in.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a real tiger,” you commented with a huff of laughter, Kosen choosing to shake his body and spray you with water in response. “Okay, well you had better be done by the time I get back. We have a lot more walking to do if we want to get to Tevasa by tomorrow.”

Kosen huffed, turning his back to you in his usual show of brattiness; at least he wouldn’t blow his cover if anyone happened to stumble upon the scene, as unlikely as that was this deep in the forest in the middle of nowhere.

You preferred the days of solitude to the days spent in the cities anyways, always worried deep down that every person you met could look inside you and see all the lives that had been lost because of you.

You had overheard the occasional comment about your now-dead village, usually from town gossips. They talked about the massacre of the entire town, their suspected culprits ranging from Noxians to dragons. It was hardly surprising that you had yet to hear someone mention demons as the suspected culprits. After all, azakana were the things of children’s stories, creatures that would come to devour bad children who didn’t listen to their parents, and you and Kosen would continue to do your best to keep it that way.

The pickings in this area were disappointing, as you had expected. It was a good thing Kosen only fed off of other azakana and feelings, as there was definitely not enough game in miles to sustain a real tiger.

With a sigh, you crouched down beside a bush of berries you knew were safe to eat, but were always too sour at this time of year, so it would be an unsatisfying dinner for you, but far from your first. Popping one in your mouth, you winced at the unpleasant taste, almost tempted to just toss them back at the bush, when a sound pierced the air.

You immediately knew it was Kosen, the sheer panic in the cry enough to startle you to your core. You had heard his growls, his roars, but you had never heard him make this sound before, like he was being torn apart.

The sour berries fell from your grasp, left behind and forgotten as you began to sprint back towards the spring, daggers at the ready, having no idea what you were running into but just knowing that Kosen needed you.

You emerged back into the clearing, spotting Kosen, now out of the water, growling ferociously as he continued to lose ground to a strange figure with two glowing swords who seemed determined to take his life.

Without a word, you darted in, blade aimed for the man’s neck with deadly precision. It was quite rare for you to end up in fights with humans, given you travelled with a large tiger, but you wouldn’t allow this man to hurt Kosen, so you struck without mercy. If Kosen’s cry was anything to go off of, then this man was clearly a threat to be taken seriously.

You knew you were silent, your moves practiced over years, but just as your blade was about to cut into him, the man vanished, moving faster than you could see. Frowning, you shifted around, still able to sense the attacker in the trees nearby, unmoving.

Turning your head back, you took in Kosen, who quickly came to your side, looking roughed up, but not grievously wounded. “Are you okay?”

The azakana growled affirmatively, his tail lashing in frenzied strokes behind him as he too attempted to survey the trees for whoever had attacked him.

Whoever he was, they seemed content to simply watch you from the shadows of his hiding spot. You could try to flee, but something about the man didn’t sit well with you, something telling you that he would not hesitate to cut you down if you tried to run. You were in unprecedented territory here, and it unnerved you deeply. Your best shot here would be to confront the man directly.

“Who are you?” you demanded coldly. “This tiger is my companion. Look elsewhere if you intend to hunt game.”

“Your companion is no tiger,” came the man’s reply, his deep voice sounding strangely sad. “And if I had found you any later, you would be prey for its true form.”

His words immediately put you on edge. Besides their direct victims, you had never met anyone who was aware of azakana, much less could recognize one in its disguised state. That couldn’t be what was happening, could it? But how else were you supposed to interpret those words?

“His true form is none of your business,” you spit viciously, eyes darting over the trees, trying to pick out his location. “We are passing through this area in peace. I know no clan has dominion here.”

“A human aiding an azakana?” he sneered in response. “To side against your own kind and feed them to demons… truly despicable.”

His words made you angry, the man clearly feeling free to judge something he knew nothing about.

“You’re quick to judge for someone who won’t even show his face,” you hissed, Kosen snarling in support at your side.

There was a long silence before a shift in the air, and then the man was before you, swords still held at the ready but making no move to attack, which gave you the chance to get a good look at him, his appearance bringing a quiet gasp to your lips.

He wore the shape of a man, his shirtless torso well-muscled, arms and stomach wrapped with bandages despite no injuries being apparent in his movements. His hair was long, longer than you had ever seen on a man, dark hair reaching his lower back. But none of his features caught your attention like his face, one eye hidden under the shadows of the mask he wore, the dramatic shape of the mask that sloped down over his nose putting you on alert immediately, its appearance distinctly azakana in nature.

Your alarm only deepened when you looked to his belt, seeing a variety of masks left behind by dead azakana strung along his belt. He didn’t seem to be an azakana himself, the air missing the usual crackling of energy that denoted the presence of one of the demons, but if not, then what was he?

“You wear the face of an azakana but call me a slave to one?” you spoke harshly, refusing to lower your weapons as you glared at the mysterious man.

“I understand the dangers of azakana better than most,” he spoke, his uncovered eye impossible to see even as he took a step closer. “That demon will bleed villages dry if left alive. I have heard of azakana taking on human guises, but never human shields. I will strike you down regardless if you place yourself in my path.”

So a fight it was then. But you would not allow him to make false statements about Kosen.

“He is an azakana,” you admitted. “But he’s also my friend. And the only thing he bleeds dry is his own kind… and me.”

Your admission seemed to surprise and disgust him in equal measure, his frown an obvious indication of his distaste. “Then it is a parasite.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” you hissed, sheathing your daggers and reaching down to touch Kosen’s head, the faux-tiger nuzzling against your palm. “But Kosen is no danger to anyone who doesn’t attack him first. And I won’t let you kill him just because of what he is.”

“I would call you ignorant, but you recognized my mask,” he admitted somberly. “And yet I find it difficult to take you at your word. It would be safer for Ionia if I were to cut you down here.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust someone like you has Ionia’s best interests at heart?” you pressed, insulted that you and Kosen were being cast as villains you knew you weren’t. “I’m supposed to believe you wear the mask of a monster but aren’t one? Maybe we should be cutting you down for the sake of Ionia.”

Kosen growled beside you, prowling forward to take a protective stance in front of you, fangs bared at the stranger.

The man said nothing in response, the silence stretching out, pricking against your skin. You had no desire to kill this man, not if he wasn’t an azakana, so you would give talking one more try.

“Let us pass, and then you can go and find an actually dangerous azakana to kill,” you insisted. “And we’ll go do the same.”

You knew you weren’t the most eloquent, a life only occasionally interacting with civilization leading to somewhat awkward social skills. But given he started this conversation with swords drawn, he didn’t really seem to be the conversational type either. If you had to fight your way through him, then so be it, because he wasn’t taking Kosen from you.

“You ask me to trust in a demon defying its nature?” he spoke quietly, but his swords did not move.

You didn’t have anything to prove to this strange man, and you were not about to go baring your soul to him just so he would let you live. But at the same time, you wanted to avoid killing him, especially if you shared a common goal, which gave you an idea.

You stepped forward, Kosen staring warily at you, but trusting your judgment. “We’re hunting a fire azakana who we’ve tracked to somewhere around Tevasa. If you don’t believe us, then come with us and see. If you can’t trust my word, then trust my actions. But I won’t let you kill either of us because of your own assumptions.”

The man was silent again, and you chose to act, assuming his silence at least meant he wouldn’t attack you. “Or don’t. But we’re leaving.”

The moment you turned your back, you heard the quiet sound of metal cutting through air as the man sheathed his swords. You didn’t turn, but were secretly relieved that your gamble had not gone as poorly as it could have.

The man easily caught up to you with quiet footsteps, allowing you a closer look at his face.

He was pale, the eye closest to you a deep red, the other covered by his mask, its outline glowing an eerie blue. Beside his open eye was a long-healed scar, crossing from beside his eye to pass through the corner of his lip. You couldn’t decide if he was handsome or not, any beauty in his face equally disturbing given his demonic mask. You knew he wasn’t an azakana, so just what was he?

“So you’re joining us then?” you prompted, looking him in his exposed eye.

He stared solemnly back at you, and you wondered if he knew any other way to be. “Our paths cross… for now.”

“As long as our swords don’t have to,” you remarked, trying to alleviate some of the obvious tension in the air. “Could I at least get your name, if we’re going to be killing azakana together and all?”

A sigh. “…Yone.”

Yone wasn’t much for talking, that much was clear. His footsteps were steady beside yours, but his answers to your attempts at friendly questions were short and evasive. Eventually you gave up, instead choosing to focus your attention on finding a replacement meal for your spilled berries, Kosen eventually tiring of your poor attempt at a search and disappearing briefly, only to come back with a giant flop rabbit clutched in his jaws.

Yone said nothing, merely watching as you paused to set up a quick fire, not really feeling like being poisoned by some undercooked meat, Kosen curling up around the fire, his eyes open and on Yone, as if daring him to try anything.

“Do you want some?” you asked as you rotated the rabbit over the dancing flames.

“No,” Yone answered shortly, and you wondered if maybe he was just being polite.

“I don’t mind,” you pressed with a smile you hoped would reassure him. It felt so awkward to sit here and hog the rabbit all to yourself when you had company. “And Kosen only kills what we eat, so don’t worry.”

“I have never known an azakana to exercise restraint,” Yone commented, clearly still wary of Kosen. “Theirs is a hunger that can only devour.”

“Well he’s been with me for seven years now, and I’m still here,” you protested idly. “I’ve killed enough azakana to know what they’re like, but Kosen isn’t like the rest of them. He saved my life.”

You didn’t feel like elaborating, not to the strange masked man who had told you no more than his name. Though really, it was more likely that habit was kicking in; you had lived for so long with only Kosen to confide in, painful secrets inside you locked closely to your chest. It wasn’t terrible having company who shared your burdens, even as quiet and serious as he was, but you knew that he wouldn’t be around long after he realized that you and Kosen were no threat, so there was little point in getting attached.

You sat in silence other than Kosen’s gentle purring, only slightly broken-sounding to your ears in his imitation of a tame house pet. You knew better than to think he was doing it to aide his own case, the false tiger knowing that his broken purrs always calmed you down. You had thought you were doing okay, but you must not seem great if Kosen felt the need to wordlessly comfort you.

You picked at your dinner, feeling the intensity of the staring contest you knew was going on between the other two members of your group. Kosen was uninjured, but you knew that he would not relax until Yone was long behind you, and who knew how long it would take for the strange man to be convinced that you were not a threat.

Knowing the tension would be better abated sooner rather than later, you pushed your feet harder than usual, making it most of the way to Tevasa, the journey much quieter than it usually was with just Kosen. Maybe you should’ve just taken the fighting option, at least it wouldn’t be so awkward now if you had… unless Yone killed you, that was.

“So how long have you been hunting azakana?” you asked him, figuring you should at least give it another try despite your rusty conversational skills.

Yone looked up from where he sat polishing his sword, seeming to take a moment to consider your question. “I do not know.”

“It feels like that for me too sometimes,” you admitted, settling back against Kosen’s fur. “I’ve killed so many that I’ve lost count.”

“…I still haven’t decided to spare you, you know,” he reminded you, not unkindly, but as if stating a fact.

Kosen growled from behind you, not taking kindly to his statement, but you just felt strangely calm. Danger was your pastime, you rationalized; it had been ever since the last day your village had been alive. Maybe you were more comfortable around danger than safety now, a sad thought to realize, but you would never be able to go back to the you of ten years ago, no matter how badly you wanted to sometimes.

You slept against Kosen’s warm fur that night, as you usually did. You had no idea if Yone had slept at all, as he was up and gazing out into the distance when you woke up.

You were only a few hours walk from Tevasa now, and with how many victims the azakana you were after had left in its wake, you knew you would need to feed Kosen to get him to full strength for the fight to come. You would just have to hope that Yone wouldn’t react poorly to the feeding.

You placed a hand on Kosen’s head, petting his fur with slow strokes, the tiger immediately sensing your intentions, looking up to meet your eyes.

Yone clearly sensed something was wrong, as he stopped his pacing around to assumedly raise an eyebrow you couldn’t see from under his mask at you.

You met his sharp gaze warily, trying to look reassuring. “I have to feed Kosen. It’s safe, I promise.”

“Holding azakana to promises is foolish,” he replied tersely. “But I have resolved to assess your claims for myself.”

Satisfied that he wasn’t likely to interrupt, you braced yourself for the feeding. You really would have preferred to send Yone away for this part, considering you would now have to bare your most vulnerable thoughts in front of the bloodthirsty stranger, but this was to protect Kosen, so you would do what you had to.

Closing your eyes, your hand stilled on his head, knowing that a physical link helped to more easily transfer your feelings to the feline azakana. Beneath your fingers, you felt Kosen shift to his demonic form, his soft fur turning coarse and hard, which told you that he was ready for you to start.

With your eyes closed, you had no way of knowing how Yone was reacting to the situation, but he seemed to be keeping his feelings to himself, so it wasn’t like a visual aid would help you that much. He hadn’t attacked Kosen though, and you supposed that would be as good of a sign to start as you were going to get.

You let out a long, shaky sigh before beginning.

“I can’t see their faces anymore,” you admitted morosely. “Not while they were alive. I try not to think about them because all I can see is their dead faces, their frozen expressions… all I can smell is their blood. I don’t even remember what the sweet buns mom used to make smell like. All I can smell is blood.”

As you talked, you felt your surroundings fade away, and as always, the tears came quickly.

“I forget their voices, but I still remember their screams,” you sobbed, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks, lost in the darkness under your eyelids, the images from that day coming to your mind’s eye as you talked. “It would all be so much easier if I had died that day too, if I was just nothing. If I didn’t have to live like a ghost, never able to see them again. Never able to ask mom for advice, or get a hug from dad on a bad day. All I have left is the screams.”

The more you spoke, the less you cried, feeling calmer as your sadness was eaten by Kosen, the tears drying as you talked, as they always did. Finally, when you felt truly calm, you stopped, opening your eyes to see Kosen, already shifted back into his disguise, kneading his paws into the ground as he felt new strength flow through him.

Reaching a sleeve up, you wiped off what tears remained on your face, feeling emotion return to you, manifesting as nervousness as you looked over at Yone, only to find his visible eye already on you.

“See?” you spoke, waving a wrist at him. “Still alive.”

“I have never known anyone to be brave enough to keep a leech as a pet,” he replied, voice thoughtful, even though his words told you that he still didn’t understand you.

With a tight smile, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants as you tried to stamp down your anger before it got to a level you’d have to feed to Kosen again. What were you were doing, trying vainly to prove yourself to a man that had shown you and Kosen nothing but contempt?

“Without him, I’d be dead,” you spoke at last, shocking yourself with the anger that soaked your words, even as you felt it under your skin. “I would have been eaten by an azakana years ago without him helping to keep my emotions steady. Now we’ll be heading to Tevasa if you’re still so insistent on killing us.”

You turned away, stalking off in the direction of Tevasa, Kosen quickly at your side, letting out a smug huff when he reached your side.

“Sorry,” you apologized to him. “I really should’ve said something much sooner.”

Kosen’s reply was a dismissive grunt, telling you that he wasn’t upset with you. You really didn’t deserve the amount of luck you had that day he had found you. Now you just needed to kill the fire azakana so you could get rid of the pest you had attracted and go back to just being you and Kosen.

Yone was predictably silent, but continued to walk with you, his persistence merely annoying to you now.

Neither of you talked until Tevasa came in sight, the small village bustling with activity.

Tevasa was especially small, housing little more than a hundred people, which would make your job easier. This azakana really should have picked a larger village if it was going to have a hope of hiding its next target. It wouldn’t be too hard to pick out a person emotionally damaged enough to be a tasty meal for a demon with so few people to choose from.

Stopping at the far side of the small bridge that led into the village, you turned to acknowledge Yone at last.

“I’m not sure what your process is,” you said, trying your best to sound patient. “But I like to ask around town to see if anyone has suffered any recent trauma, and then we trail them until Kosen detects the azakana making itself known.”

“I have never thought deeply about my methods,” Yone admitted, one hand drifting to his blood red sword as if he needed something to do as he spoke. “I sense the azakana, and then I kill them, ideally before they claim any lives.”

“Sounds like we can work together just fine then,” you said, Kosen snorting his obvious displeasure. “I think I should handle the talking part though.”

“Fine,” Yone acquiesced easily, removing his hand from his sword and striding ahead of you across the bridge, leaving you and Kosen to catch up with him.

You were an eye-catching group, the villagers’ eyes roving over your party as you entered the village, probably wondering if you were here to cause trouble. While the smaller villages were easier to narrow down victims in, they did tend to be more closed-off in terms of information gathering, your equally closed-off companion not likely to be much of a help in that regard.

You looked around, trying to meet a friendly eye, but most of the villagers averted their gazes from you, clearly afraid of the trouble they thought you posed to them. Maybe this hunt was going to be more difficult than you had thought.

“Kitty!”

Just as you began to despair, a high-pitched voice rang out, turning your head to see a small boy break out of his mother’s grasp and run at Kosen, tiny arms outstretched to the tiger.

You felt Yone tense up immediately, turning to face him and quickly shaking your head once. You hoped he would understand and stand down, but he was still too unpredictable. Maybe it was the insistence in your eyes, but Yone merely averted his gaze from yours, watching as the boy made his way over to the faux tiger, his mother too slow to catch him as he reached his arms up to catch Kosen in a hug around his neck.

There were cries of alarm, fear on the mother’s face as she stumbled her way forward, but the tension in the air turned sharply to stunned silence as Kosen leaned down to nuzzle the boy’s head with a loud purr, ruffling his hair and drawing a giggle from the boy.

The boy grinned happily, petting Kosen’s head, the azakana eagerly accepting the attention, not unlike an overgrown puppy. Soon, there was a group of kids happily playing with Kosen, riding on his back and giving him his highly-coveted chin scratches.

The villagers that looked at you with suspicion and fear now watched the scene with fondness. Having seen this situation play out a thousand times before, you turned to Yone, an exasperated smile on your face.

“He loves attention,” you explained, secretly satisfied by just how puzzled Yone looked as he too looked upon the scene.

Eventually, the mothers called their children back, not wanting them to bother the strangers for too long, and Kosen trotted back over to you, throwing a haughty look and huff Yone’s way, clearly having sensed his earlier tension.

“You’re still a demon,” Yone hissed pridefully, clearly refusing to admit defeat so easily.

Leaving the boys to their petty squabble, you approached the first boy’s mother, who noticed you coming and paused her speech on manners to smile awkwardly at you.

“I apologize for Yuten,” she said, bowing her head politely. “I have told him again and again not to bother visitors.”

“It’s okay,” you dismissed gently, Kosen’s display helping to unravel your tension as well. “Kosen doesn’t get chances to play often, so he just eats up the attention.”

“Kosen…” Yuten muttered in awe, the tiger mewling in response, happily accepting a few more pats from the boy as you talked to his mother.

“I was wondering if I could ask you a question,” you broached gently, hoping your rusty social skills would still do the trick. “We’ve been on the trail of a killer, one who seems to target people who have suffered a tragedy. I was just curious if anything strange has happened in Tevasa lately, if you’ve noticed anyone acting strangely.”

The woman looked concerned, and then perplexed, making you doubt that you were going to get any useful information from her.

“We’re a peaceful village,” she said, clearly wracking her brain as she spoke. “There have been some disappointing harvests for trade this year, but nothing like a murderer. Do you really think we’re in danger?”

She glanced worriedly at her son, who was still distracted by Kosen, the direction of her thoughts plain on her face.

“Children should be safe,” you said, leaving out the reasoning behind your words. Children were too young to have developed emotions deep enough to be appetizing to azakana. “But anyone especially alone or emotionally vulnerable would be at risk.”

“They are more likely to strike when their target is alone,” Yone said, surprising you by speaking up. The woman’s eyes flitted nervously to him, clearly somewhat unnerved by his appearance. “And at night. Keep your children close while we do our work and they will be fine.”

The woman nodded, looking nervous, which you couldn’t blame her for, being given the news that there was a murderer in their midst. Clearly in a hurry to get her son inside, the woman wished you luck, telling you to visit the village leader if you wanted more information. Her son was less than enthused to be pried off of Kosen, but obeyed his mother, who stopped every few paces to have hushed conversation with other adults, who then quickly ushered their own children inside as well. You hated stoking fear everywhere you went, but it was necessary.

“To the leader then?” you asked, looking down the street while keeping the woman’s directions playing on loop in your head.

“If we must,” Yone acquiesced, clearly not used to doing things the talking way.

You followed the main road until you spotted a small building with a sloped blue roof, clearly the building you were looking for based on her description.

“I can talk to him alone, if you two would rather stay out here,” you offered, stopping just before the small walkway that led up to the house.

Your suggestion was as poorly received as you imagined it would be, Yone and Kosen staring at each other with blatant distaste.

Kosen was the first to move, trotting past you to the door before turning to Yone, reaching a paw up to groom himself, a clear challenge in his expression.

Yone stared for a moment before sighing in defeat and walking past you as well. “I will not leave you alone to claim any more victims, azakana.”

Smiling to yourself, you followed them to the door, the boys parting to the side to allow you to knock on the door.

The man that came to the door was older, his white hair in a topknot and deep red robes neat. He eyed you with suspicion, likely wondering about the strange company you kept. You were used to it with Kosen, but it definitely didn’t help your case that Yone looked like anything but a friendly face.

Smiling, you fell back to your well-practiced speech. “Hello. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time to discuss a threat in your village. I was hoping to get some information from you to aid in our search.”

“If you’ve any interest in the village coffers, you’re about a day too late,” the man joked, confusing you. You had been accused of swindling before, but that didn’t seem to be the man’s intention.

Clearly noticing your confusion, he gestured behind him “You’re not with him?”

“Him?” you echoed, not really able to see whoever he was referring to.

“Oh, you…” He seemed to come to some realization, taking a quick look around before stepping aside to allow you in.

He looked wary when Kosen followed you in as well, but said nothing, closing the door behind you before speaking, clearly favoring meeting your eyes over Yone and Kosen.

“I had thought you were also sent by the council to help us,” he admitted, looking unsure.

“No, we’re just passing by,” you half-lied. “We’ve been trailing what we think is some sort of creature that preys on the weak and alone, and we were wondering if you knew anyone fitting that description who may be more at risk.”

“I’m not so sure,” he pondered. “We have our outcasts like anyone else, but you should probably talk to the council’s hunter. From what he tells me, there’s a herd of creatures hanging around just waiting to strike. He already killed two of them last night, in fact.”

“Is that so…” you replied, not really knowing what to say to that. There wasn’t a pack of azakana here, was there?

You dismissed the thought as soon as you had it. Azakana didn’t like to share, and the thought of several sharing only a few victims across this part of Ionia was ridiculous. So did that mean that this village was also dealing with a pack of man-eating creatures and a hungry azakana?

“I will fetch him for you,” the leader insisted. “He is our guest while he slays these awful creatures.”

The man then quickly shuffled from the room, leaving you an opportunity to talk to Yone and Kosen.

“He is clearly being lied to,” Yone sneered as soon as the leader was out of earshot.

“Are you sure?” you whispered back, though having your own doubts as well.

“If there is anything else in this village, they are not azakana, and they are none of our concern,” he replied, Kosen letting out a growl of agreement.

You wanted to reply, to insist that while you were here anyways, you could clear out this threat too if it did exist, but you heard two sets of footsteps coming your way and were forced to save the thought for another time.

The man that followed the village leader in was dressed flashily in a bright purple jacket over shiny gray pants, the silver armor sporadically dotting his outfit looking both impractical and illogical for combat. His dark hair was slicked back in a short ponytail, his wrists laden with sparkling silver jewelry.

His eyes were dull with distaste as they roved over your companions before they settled on you and an unsettlingly wide smile appeared on his face.

The man strode towards you, taking hold of your hand before you could stop him, and you were glad you had your gloves on as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“Didn’t expect to see such a beautiful woman around here,” he spoke flirtatiously, testing your ability to keep up your already terse smile.

You pulled your hand back as the leader spoke up. “Shusho is here on behalf of Ionia’s magical threats council, to rid us of the threat this pack of creatures pose to us.”

Magical threats council? You had been all over Ionia, but had never heard of the organization this man claimed to be from. He clearly wasn’t Kinkou, given their only interest was balancing spirits with nature. Part of you wanted to just ignore the strangeness of his claims; after all, you didn’t know everything there was to know about Ionia, but Yone’s doubts had settled uncomfortably under your skin.

“You’ll understand, of course, that I cannot share the council’s mandated creature removal fee,” Shusho added with a sly smile that only deepened your suspicions that he was some sort of con man, and hardly the first one you had ever encountered. A quick glance at Yone told you that he had not changed his opinion of the man.

“We don’t need payment,” you replied smoothly, used to this question and refusing to allow their leader to believe that you were the same as Shusho, despite the fact that you knew he believed the man had come to solve a real problem. “I was just hoping to discuss another matter.”

“Oh, the outcasts, was it?” the leader hummed in thought. “I’m not so sure myself. If you’re willing to stay the night, I can ask around and see if I can find you some answers by tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you agreed, uncaring of Yone’s opinion on the matter. If he was still intent on following you and Kosen around, then he would have to just put up with one more day here.

“Excellent,” the leader smiled. “We would be happy to have you as guests in our modest inn. We don’t get as many travellers passing by here as we used to.”

You wanted to be polite and refuse, but you did miss the comforts of a real bed and a bath. “Thank you. We should only need the one night if all goes well.”

“If it’s one night, there’s plenty of room in my bed,” Shusho grinned, Kosen growling warningly behind you in response.

The leader laughed good naturedly, as if the sleazy line had just been a joke. “I will inform our innkeeper. Please let me know if you need anything, both of you. I will do anything to keep our people safe.”

Shusho’s face turned calculated, and you quickly took your leave, deciding to later see if you could talk to the leader alone about the predatory council member. Kosen bared his teeth at the man as you passed, Yone simply following silently until you were outside.

“Honorless,” Yone sneered as soon as you were outside.

You let out a loud sigh. “I’ll try to talk to him later without Shusho around.”

Yone wasn’t quite done, staring at the closed door you had just left. “My time hunting azakana has made me forget the monstrous nature of people.”

“Some people,” you insisted. “I know you’re still deciding about me, but we need to find that azakana before it attacks whoever here is its target.”

“And we will,” he confirmed solemnly. “I can sense a bloodlust about this place. The azakana is undoubtedly biding its time before it strikes.”

“Then we have to find whoever it’s after before it does,” you spoke resolutely. You didn’t have time to wait for everyone to ask around and get back to you; you would have to do it yourself.

Talking to the villagers went much in the same way as it had upon first arrival in the village. You talked to the villagers while Kosen tried his best not to look threatening and Yone stood silently behind you, willfully oblivious of how he was undermining your efforts.

Most people had either said they knew nothing or seemed to throw out a name just to get rid of you, making the endeavor thoroughly frustrating. It wasn’t until you got frustrated enough to ask the children until you got a lead.

“Ehnisa’s mom doesn’t leave her house ever since Ehnisa went away,” a boy shrugged, clearly eager to get back to playing with his friends who were waiting nearby with a ball. “My mom says Ehnisa went to see the gods, but I dunno where that is. Can I go now? It’s my turn to throw next.”

“Yes, thank you, you’ve been a big help,” you replied, relief flooding through you at having an actual lead.

After getting directions to the woman’s house, you watched as the boy joined up with his friends to play before turning back to Yone, who you saw was also looking at the boys playing, his eye coming to meet yours as you turned.

For a moment, he had looked almost sad, like watching them playing reminded him of a sad memory. The moment gave you pause, but you certainly weren’t close enough for you to be prying, so you let the moment pass.

“We should probably go find her before it gets dark,” you said, heading off in the direction the boy had said to.

The woman’s house was on the outskirts of the village, which was another bad sign, the area around the home basically deserted. It was a small home, and didn’t look particularly run-down, at least not on the outside, but the strange quiet in the area helped to uphold your belief that you were on the right track.

The three of you made your way to the door, with you taking the lead as usual, knocking firmly on the door.

You could hear some shuffling footsteps from inside the house, but it still took at least a full minute for the door to open up a crack, the silver of space revealing a blue eye on a haggard face.

“Hello,” you greeted, before realizing with dread that you had not gotten her name from the boy, just the name of her daughter, who you had presumed from context was dead. Deciding to press on without mentioning her daughter just yet, you continued. “I was hoping–”

You watched as her eyes darted behind you at your companions, and you reasoned that she was probably scared of Kosen.

You opened your mouth to reassure her, but she was faster, drawing back from the door with fear.

“No,” she gasped shakily. “No men.”

Oh. You hadn’t been expecting that to be her issue with your current company. Looking back, Yone didn’t seem to be bothered by her words, so you tried again, placing a hand on the door.

“Would it be ok if just I came in to talk with you?” you asked gently. “He can wait outside.”

“I… I…” she breathed, eventually nodding.

“Okay,” you replied softly, before turning back to them. “I’ll be fine, but can you two stay out here without fighting?”

“I do not go back on my word,” Yone replied, eyeing Kosen with distaste, the azakana huffing in response, bearing his fangs at Yone.

Well, that was going to have to be good enough for now. Warily eyeing the two one last time, you entered the home behind the woman.

While the exterior of the small house was in a relatively good state, the inside was completely different. It wasn’t dusty, but the air inside had a sour taste to it, and it wasn’t hard to guess why.

Whenever this woman had lost her daughter, she must have lost her will to function as well. The house was in horrible disarray, belongings strewn across the floor, leaving barely a walkable path through the filth.

The path led up to a worn gray couch, which is where the woman had retreated to sit in. She had clearly established a routine, as the seat of the couch looked so sunken in that you wondered how often she left it at all. She looked so small and frail, curled up on herself, staring at you with sad, tired eyes.

“Are you… feeling alright?” you asked gently, choosing to stand instead of take a chance on any of the filthy-looking chairs scattered all around the room.

“How I feel doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, voice dry and cracking. “What do you want? Tell me what I can do to be rid of you so everything can be quiet again.”

If she wasn’t the azakana’s target, sitting there drowning in her own emotions, then you would be astounded. This was always the hardest part, getting the victims to accept your help. Just killing the azakana did nothing but delay the inevitable, you knew that much yourself. And it’s not like anyone else had Kosen to constantly rely on to keep their emotions in check, which meant that your job was often quite difficult. Some people could just not be saved from themselves, no matter how hard you tried.

“How long has your daughter been dead?” you asked, figuring you should try and break through her walls if you were going to get anywhere.

“Too long,” she moaned pitifully. “She should be here, and he should be dead. I should be dead.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” you asked, trying your best to catch her downcast eyes. “I know it’s hard and I want to help you.”

It took another twenty minutes for you to convince her to open up, and through many tears, she told you of her husband, her daughter, her happy life… at least until her husband had taken their daughter on his fishing boat, but came back alone, her resulting grief at the loss of their daughter leading to him leaving her. Her whole life had been destroyed in the span of a week, her pain driving her farther away from everything and everyone until she was little more than a living corpse.

You hated yourself for how clinical you had become in these conversations, years and years of most of your social interactions being hearing stories of the worst moments of people’s lives, but it did help you to keep calm as the woman shared her story.

Finally, it was time for you to say your part, never looking forward to this part of the process. The woman wasn’t looking at you now, her sad, tired eyes trained on an empty chair across the room, one you assumed had belonged to her daughter, given the toys scattered around it on the floor.

“I came here because I think you may be the target of a… creature,” you said, not feeling like this woman was in the right state to hear your tale about azakana. “I’m a travelling hunter, and I know one of those creatures is in the area. Have you noticed anything strange lately? Like hearing voices or things moving around you?”

“I… don’t know,” she answered lifelessly. “I hear her voice sometimes, telling me to come to her, but I can’t find her. I think she’s lost.”

“Your daughter isn’t here,” you spoke quietly but firmly. “You can’t listen to anything you hear. We’ll try our best to find it before it attacks, but you are in very real danger.”

The woman didn’t reply immediately, her head slowly lifting to stare into your eyes, the dark black now consuming her eyes startling you.

“Not as much danger as you, sweet daughter of sorrow.”

“I–” you gasped, blinking rapidly and suddenly realizing that the woman was staring at you with concern in her eyes. Her normal-colored eyes…

“I’ll try to remember that,” she spoke quietly, her tone suggesting that she was repeating herself. “It’s just been so lonely…”

But she… no, you dismissed. The strange words you had thought you had heard were definitely a product of your recent poor sleep. How pathetic were you that this woman was worrying about you instead of herself?

“I understand,” you replied, focussing back in on your task. “I can help calm you down for tonight, and we’ll be back tomorrow to take another look if that’s alright. My tiger will stay here tonight to protect you, so you don’t have to worry.”

“I…” she mumbled, but looked like she wouldn’t protest. “Why me? Why not just leave me to rot like everyone else has?”

“Grief makes people strange,” you replied, though her situation was so different from your own. You had no community left to distance themselves from you, everyone obliterated in one moment. “I think people will be more receptive if you meet them halfway.”

The woman just blinked, and you decided it was probably time for you to go. She clearly needed time to think, so you would regroup with Yone and Kosen first to see what other information you could find. It would do no good to smother this woman who was barely coping as is, especially with Kosen here to watch over her from outside.

You left the home to find Yone and Kosen waiting outside, spaced thirty feet more apart than they had been when you had left them. Kosen got up from his position laying on the grass as soon as he spotted you, rubbing his head against your thigh and receiving a head pat in response.

Yone was slower, pushing back from the tree he had been leaning back against and walking over, Kosen’s tail curling around you in response in a likely show of pettiness from the azakana.

“It’s very likely her,” you said, cutting to the chase. “Her daughter died and it seems like she’s been a shell of a person ever since, but I didn’t notice any signs of an imminent attack.”

“I can’t sense it here either,” Yone admitted, voice sounding frustrated. “It is not like azakana to wait so long.”

“It shouldn’t be long before it strikes,” you said, looking back at the small home, part of you wondering if it would strike now, if your presence here would provoke it, as had happened in the past, but the house remained quiet and still. “All we can do now is be ready for when it does. I’m going to start by asking around to see if this woman had any friends.”

“Friends do not help you kill an azakana,” Yone stated harshly, his thought process so clearly different from your own.

“I know how to kill an azakana,” you snapped back, reaching a hand down to pet Kosen. “I’m just concerned about her afterwards. She needs friends to check in on her, or this is just going to happen all over again, and next time, she’ll be consumed.”

“You cannot protect anyone forever,” Yone shot back, but without malice in his voice. “Some fates cannot be avoided, merely postponed.”

“Then I’ll do that,” you replied. “That’s what we always do. Give them enough of a push to save themselves.”

Yone’s silent stare told you he likely didn’t see the point of your methods, but that was fine. After this azakana was dead, you could go your separate ways and your methods would again be your own business.

“Kosen, I need you to stay here for tonight,” you told the tiger, who predictably was reluctant, nudging your hand with his head with a huff. “I’ll be fine for one night, but I need you here in case something happens. If her emotions get too loud, I need you to calm her down.”

You could feel Yone’s stare and turned your head to return it. “She’ll be safe. I gave you my word that Kosen doesn’t consume souls.”

“I can hardly expect a beast to resist a juicy cut of meat when it swings before his face,” Yone replied, Kosen growling in offence in response to the accusation.

“Alright,” you acquiesced, shrugging your shoulders. “If you want to keep an eye on him, sure. But I think it would be faster if we all split up.”

Yone stared at Kosen for a long moment, the tiger licking his paw, purposefully paying him no mind. You had never seen Kosen be so petty; he certainly didn’t act like this with you, and it was taking a lot for you to not laugh at the scene in front of you.

“…fine,” Yone agreed at last, breaking eye contact with Kosen.

“Great,” you replied, ignoring Yone’s sour expression. “I’ll try and see if I can convince anyone to come by and see her while you scout around for any demonic presences. I promise we won’t go far if you decide that we can’t be trusted after all.”

Yone said nothing, letting out what you hoped was an amused huff before disappearing.

Once he was gone, you turned to Kosen, who was still relaxing on the grass without a feigned care in the world, your hands on your hips.

“You don’t have to antagonize him,” you said, smiling, though you knew that Kosen was aware that you weren’t mad.

Wishing Kosen good luck, you set off for the town, your best guess as to where to start being a group of mothers you had seen socializing while their children played. The first woman you had talked to wasn’t there, but you set about your task regardless, knowing it would have to be done if the victim-to-be had any chance of a life when you were done here.

You distantly wondered what Yone was doing, as you ran around trying to drum up a social circle for the woman like you were a parent on the first day of school. You weren’t anywhere near as good at sensing the presence of an azakana from afar as Yone and Kosen, but you would be able to feel if there was an altercation, so you suspected based on the nothing you felt that Yone had made little progress.

It came as no small relief to have some breathing room, even if Kosen wasn’t here as well. You hadn’t realized how tense you were with Yone around until you had a break from being around him.

You still had no idea what to think of him, his intentions as shadowed in mystery as the mask on his face.  You hadn’t pressed, and didn’t intend to, but you couldn’t imagine there being a positive explanation for his unusual appearance.

You had garnered some concern for the woman, but nobody you talked to seemed to know her beyond normal pleasantries back when her family had been whole. You could tell people were getting a little tired of your questions, and you were ready to take your little progress and head to the inn when you saw a familiar figure heading your way.

“Have you had any luck?” the mother from this morning asked, this time without her son by her side.

You gave her a reluctant smile. “None yet, unfortunately. But we’re looking around to make sure we don’t miss anything.”

The mother looked uncomfortable, and you thought it might still be because of the killer in their midst until she hesitantly spoke up.

“I… I overheard the others talking about Mika,” she admitted, surprising you. “I haven’t wanted to bother her, so I haven’t gone to see her, but then I thought about what you said earlier and… is Mika in some sort of trouble?”

Well this conversation was already more helpful than all the other ones you had attempted since leaving Kosen at Mika’s house.

“She might be,” you admitted, hoping she would be able to help as you were running out of options. “Her being so alone puts her at risk. I can only do so much, but as long as she remains this alone, she’ll be at risk of this happening again.”

“I never thought–” She put a hand to her mouth, shocked, and you were relieved that you didn’t have to answer more questions about what these threats were, as the whole azakana thing never went down well with anyone who had never had an experience with one. “What can I do?”

“You just need to talk to her,” you stated simply. “She’s been isolating herself for so long that she can’t see a way out on her own anymore, and I can only do so much. She needs someone who isn’t a stranger to her.”

“I… understand,” she spoke shakily, sadly. “I should have gone to her sooner. Can you tell her that Sumei will come by and–”

You cautioned her to wait until the threat was dealt with to begin visiting Mika again, Sumei reluctantly agreeing, wishing you luck before going home to her son, clearly nervous to be without him in her sight after all that you had told her.

It was early evening by the time you turned back to head to the inn, desperately looking forward to a good meal and a real bed after your long day.

You were so exhausted that you didn’t see the hand coming, your arm seized in a painfully tight grip. Turning sharply, you saw Shusho’s unsettling grinning face, the light reflected from a nearby street lamp alighting his face with a sinister glow.

“What’s your problem?” he demanded, using his harsh grip on your arm to push you against the wall of the store you had been walking by.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied evenly, trying to shake his hold on your arm, but he held fast, pressing in closer.

“Do you know how many women would love to be in your position?” he demanded with narrowed eyes glaring in your direction. “Women throw themselves at me! You should be grateful I even looked at you!”

Was this about earlier…? You felt anger rise in you at his words; you were here trying to save someone’s life and he was more concerned over a bruised ego?

“Don’t you have some innocents to be swindling instead?” you asked, voice cold as you broke his hold on your arm, his grip loosened momentarily from shock. “Please excuse me.”

“You… you bitch!” Shusho shouted at your retreating back, not unlike a spoiled child being denied a treat and throwing a tantrum. “Nobody rejects me ever! You’ll regret treating me like this!”

You kept walking, increasing your pace in an effort to get away from him as fast as possible, a figure leaping down from the shadow of a nearby building to walk beside you.

“If you were watching me, you could’ve helped,” you complained to Yone, who raised an eyebrow at you in return. “Right, not an azakana, so not your problem. Got it.”

“You didn’t need my help,” he replied at last, the two of you walking in the direction of the inn.

Shusho punched the wall of the run-down looking store she had just escaped from. This was all turning out to be one huge disappointment for him.

He was used to leaders tripping over themselves to buy his services, women competing to be the one to warm his bed. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Who did that snobby bitch think she was? Nobody ever turned their nose up at him, looked at him like he was a bug under their shoe.

Shusho made his way into the woods, intent on taking out his rage on the first creature he found, angrily kicking a fallen branch out of his way.

Now that he was truly alone and away from all those village busybodies, Shusho’s smile had long since dropped from his face. The world around him was black, which made a sudden face between the trees stand out, its appearance sending Shusho reeling back into a tree, the bark digging into his back as he stared in horror at the scene before him.

And then it moved closer, and it became clear to Shusho that the face was a mask, a solid white mask with long horns. As it emerged from the shadows, he saw that it was being worn by a figure made of pitch black that was too tall and jagged to possibly be human.

“What are you?” Shusho yelled at the figure, brandishing his weapon with shaking hands.

The mask tilted to the side, as if assessing his question, finally leaning down towards Shusho’s face. “You want that girl to suffer?”

“I…” Shusho breathed, the inhuman cadence the voice possessed chilling his bones as he took a moment to consider its words, her sneering face coming to his mind and replacing his fear with anger.

“Good,” the black thing purrs. “I can help you get her, you know… if you assist me with what I want in return.”

He didn’t care what he had to do, what this creature would ask of him. He had never been insulted like that in his life, and the rage shook him worse than a tornado. He would not just let that woman humiliate him and get away with it.

“Tell me what I have to do.”

The shadow watched the arrogant fool stride back into the village, renewed with purpose. As always with humans, he would only realize the cost of his choices when it was time to pay. But this fool would be ever so useful in obtaining what the shadow had spent so many years biding his time in wait for.

“After so many years, you think yourself free. But you will taste so sweet, delicious daughter of sorrow, like a prized fruit finally come to ripeness…”

You were in for another surprise when you got to the inn.

“We’ve prepared a nice room for you and your husband!” the kindly older woman manning the small inn happily informed you.

“I… uh…” You weren’t really sure what to say to the clearly well-intentioned woman. Part of you was relieved she didn’t seem to find Yone frightening, but did you really look like you could be married to him?

“I’ll leave you both to it!” she said, placing a key down on the counter in front of you before making her way back over to an older man sitting back behind the counter, leaving you standing there stunned.

With a resigned internal sigh, you turned to address Yone, but he spoke first.

“I do not need to sleep,” he spoke curtly. “You can make use of the room for yourself.”

He turned to leave, and you felt something strange zap through you.

“Wait!” Yone stopped walking, and you felt embarrassed at the realization that flooded through you… that you didn’t want him to leave.

You had been fine investigating on your own, but something about the thought of sleeping alone for the first time in seven years froze you to your core. Kosen was always with you, always there if you woke up in the night, terrified that demon from your past had come back for you. Why had you never noticed how truly dependent you were on Kosen for comfort until now?

But it wasn’t like you could ask Yone to trade places with Kosen now. That woman’s life was more important than your comfort, you knew that, but you hated how desperate anxiety was making you reach out to someone who so recently stated he wanted you and Kosen dead. But as much as you hated it, you didn’t want him to leave.

“If you’re… okay with me potentially sneaking out to help Kosen consume this whole town,” you said, staunchly unwilling to disclose your true motivations, even as thinly-veiled as you hoped they weren’t.

Yone finally turned, staring at you for a short moment before the corner of his lip turned up the slightest amount, seeming to see something in your rigid posture.

“I suppose I cannot take this threat of yours lightly,” he replied, making his way back over to you, his voice lacking its usual bite.

Your face felt hot, not having expected that petty threat to actually get any results. Immediately, you became self-conscious; did he know the real reason you wanted him to stay? If he knew, then you knew he would see you as that weak girl you had been so long ago, and you found yourself desperately wanting to avoid that outcome, but not really understanding why. Wasn’t it better if he thought you were weak? Then you would be free of him sooner…

Choosing to move on from the awkward moment as soon as possible, you snatched the key before making your way up the stairs that had to lead to the rooms, easily finding yours at the end of the hall.

The room was fairly simple, a decently-sized bed in one corner and a simple wooden bath in the other, the curtains on the windows looking handmade.

The sound of the door closing behind you had you looking back to Yone, who was currently surveying the bath, the steam gently rising from the water telling you it had very recently been filled.

“You can go first if you want,” you offered half-jokingly. “Unless you don’t need to bathe either.”

You were genuinely unsure if he needed to do much of anything, since he didn’t seem to sleep or eat, making you again wonder exactly what he was. But you hadn’t gotten into your story with him, so it didn’t feel right to pry into his.

Yone continued to stare at the water for a long moment before turning back to you. “I have no need to bathe. It simply… reminds me of an old life.”

Not knowing what to do with that, you let the matter drop. He could keep his secrets if he wanted to, but that didn’t mean you were about to let the hot bath go to waste.

Yone kept politely turned away, producing a worn gray cloth to clean his swords with while you bathed.

It wasn’t that you thought he was interested enough to stare, but you were surprised someone who struck such a fearsome figure would also possess enough manners to give you privacy while you undressed.

There wasn’t a lot of conversation before bed, simply solidifying the plan to check in with Kosen the next morning before taking further steps to draw out the fire azakana if it had still yet to emerge.

Yone had made no move to join you on the bed, at least not by the time you fell asleep, hugging one side of the bed to leave room for him to avoid being rude.

You were sinking into the blood.

Your parents’ empty eyes stared you down, never to see again. You blinked, and their eyes were a pitch black that spread across their faces, dark veins of black encompassing them entirely, their mouths opening too wide, revealing only more black. And from behind them rose a dark, dark shadow, one that you hoped you would never see again, from its mouth coming a terrible rasping voice.

“Sweet daughter of sorrow… soon you will be mine again.”

You woke up with a ragged gasp, heart pounding in your chest, startled to find that you were in your dark room at the inn, and not in the clutches of the azakana who had murdered your parents.

It took you a long time to realize there was a hand on your shoulder, turning with wet eyes to see Yone at your bedside, the room too dark to see his uncovered eye beneath the shadows of his mask.

“You were speaking in your sleep,” he informed you softly as soon as he noticed you realized he was there.

“I… I’m sorry,” was all you could think to say.

You heard Yone sigh softly, sadly. “I haven’t slept in many years. I find the company of my waking thoughts less disquieting than my sleeping torments.”

You wanted to feel embarrassed about being caught waking up from a nightmare like a child, but his words sparked curiosity within you instead.

“You don’t sleep?” you asked, seizing the opportunity to ask about something you had been wondering. “But that’s not… what are you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” was his answer. “I am not alive, but this body will not succumb to death.”

“You… died?” Your voice came out as a shaky whisper.

Yone stood up, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, his back now facing you.

“I don’t mean to pry,” you said, wiping your wet eyes on your sleeve as you stared at his back, skin looking as pale as death in the sparse moonlight. “You don’t have to talk about it. I know how much it hurts to relive the past.”

“I won’t offer my words to be consumed by your pet, but it would be wrong not to let you know just what kind of monster you’ve bound your fate to,” he stated solemnly.

You kept quiet, fear all but forgotten as you waited to hear what he had to say.

“When I was alive,” he started, voice sounding tired. “I had a younger brother. He was spirited, strong, but reckless. I tried to teach him responsibility, to show him the right path… but I failed.”

“What happened to him?” you asked quietly, his story clearly leading to some sort of tragedy.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “But I think he may have finally found his place in the world. I have only seen him once since he killed me.”

“He killed you?” you echoed, shocked.

Yone turned his head back to face you at the volume of your reply, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “My apologies, I’ve never been a good storyteller, and I fear I’m especially out of practice now.”

“But how did that even happen?” you asked, unable to conceive of such a terrible fate.

Yone turned to fully face you, his face returning to the shadow of the room, too dark to see any part of his expression.

“My brother was training under a great swordsmaster when Noxus invaded,” he explained. “He wanted to fight, but he was needed to protect the master. I tried to make him see reason, and thought I had succeeded. But I returned to see the master slain, bearing wounds that only my brother could have created, and my brother had vanished.”

You tried to pinpoint the emotion in his voice, but it all felt so far below the surface, like you were trying to look at the bottom of a deep well.

“It was my duty to go after him, to avenge the death of Master Souma,” Yone spoke. “But more than anything, I wanted to know why. On my honor, I could not let him live, but he was always a better swordsman than I, and I died, without ever knowing why he claimed to not be a murderer that day.”

“You didn’t ask him when you saw him again?” you asked.

Yone shook his head. “It no longer mattered. My brother will find his way, and since I became what I am, I am no longer concerned with the worries that used to plague me as a human.”

That made you think of the one thing he had yet to address. “Then how did you become like this?”

Yone let out a long, sad exhale before answering. “I strayed from the path to the world of spirits, and I was attacked by the azakana that bore this mask. When I killed it, it became part of me, and I woke up back in this world bearing this unnatural visage.”

“I’ve made peace with what I am,” he told you, making you wonder just what kind of face you had been making that he felt the need to say that. “But I need to know what this mask means. I don’t think I’ll be rid of it until I understand why that azakana found me… what part of my soul it sought to consume.”

You felt for him. To be killed by his own brother, and then find himself branded by an azakana’s mask without even knowing what emotion had drawn it to him.

You were sure he must have had lots of complicated feelings about the end to his mortal life, but there was no knowing just what that azakana had been seeking a taste of. Betrayal? Dishonor? It wasn’t hard for you to figure out what emotion of yours drew the azakana back in before Kosen had found you, but it had never mattered to you, not like it seemed to matter to Yone.

His sudden candor made you want to tell him about your own past, feeling now as if he was a kindred spirit rather than a barely-tolerated presence.

“I know you heard some of it when I was feeding Kosen,” you spoke quietly, Yone’s eyes boring into you. “I was dreaming about the azakana that killed everyone in my village but me, back when I was eighteen.”

“An entire village?” Yone sounded unsettled.

You nodded, staring down at the sheets you were clutching and unclutching in your fingers in your nervous state. You had never told anyone but Kosen about your past, and it felt strange to form the words now without him here to ease your pain.

“My parents were the heads of the village, and that day was my leader-to-be ceremony. My parents said they had something special planned. I thought it was maybe going to be a marriage to the son of a nearby village, not… an azakana.”

It was Yone’s turn to stay silent, and you fought through the coming tears and kept going. “I didn’t really know what they were back then, and I still don’t know why my parents would try to make a deal with one. But it came to the ceremony and killed everyone. Everyone but me. I still think of that room every time I smell blood.”

You let out a slow exhale, wiping some stray tears that brimmed your eyes. “As you can guess, my mental state wasn’t so great after that. I lasted three years having to kill every azakana that came after me before I tried to end it all. Kosen found me that day and saved me. Without him, I’d still be a magnet for azakana or, well, dead.”

You thought the silence after would feel uncomfortable, that Yone would be disgusted with you now that he knew your past, how close you had come to giving up on everything, but his silent stare felt surprisingly safe. Comfortable.

A thought wriggled in the back of your mind like a worm. Why did you even care if he was disgusted by you? You hadn’t before…

“I have been on my own for so long, I’ve forgotten what it was like to have trust in others,” Yone remarked. “Even if your ally is… unconventional.”

“Kosen is a great ally,” you insisted with a laugh, Yone’s attempt at being gracious to Kosen raising your spirits. “If you could stop picking fights with him long enough, you’d see that.”

Yone huffed, the sound surprisingly childish coming from him. “Without you to stop me, he would be nothing more than a mask on my belt.”

“Yone!” you chastised him.

“You should sleep,” he insisted kindly. “I will stand watch in place of your tiger tonight.”

When he offered, you realized just how tired you still were, talking with Yone having relieved you of your emotional burdens, almost as if Kosen was here.

“And you’re not going to go attack him the second I fall asleep?” you asked only half-jokingly as you settled back down in bed, staring at Yone’s masked eye, glowing softly blue in the dark.

“Your pet demon will not be harmed by my hand tonight,” he promised, amusement in his voice.

“Good,” you replied, rolling over onto your other side, sleep easily finding you, your dreams calm in the aftermath of the unexpected heart to heart.

You opened your eyes, testing sleep-heavy limbs as you noticed Yone by the window, back facing you. The squeak of the bed as you sat up had him turning to face you, much easier to see his uncovered red eye in the morning light.

“Good morning,” you greeted him, feeling incredibly strange to greet someone other than Kosen in the morning.

As Yone returned your greeting, you thought of Kosen. You had slept through the night, so clearly nothing had happened to the potential victim during the night, but you still didn’t feel right leaving Kosen by himself for any longer.

“We should probably go check on Kosen,” you said, hoping your hair wasn’t too much of a mess as you crawled out of bed, feeling somewhat shy as you went to put on all of your gear.

It was a weird feeling, waking up alone with a man, even if you weren’t sleeping in the same bed. It was embarrassing how romantically stunted you were, never having so much as kissed a boy before your entire village had been wiped out, and it wasn’t like you had much interest since. Nobody could understand the way you lived, and you were very aware of how your strange existence looked to others.

Sparing a quick glance at Yone, you mentally slapped yourself. All he was interested in was determining if you were an azakana enabler or not, not that you thought of him in that way anyways. Your judgment was probably just clouded by the fact that he was the first person you could ever really talk to about azakana. Once the azakana you were hunting was dead, he would be gone, simple as that.

Once you had your things together, you exited the room, Yone just behind you. You were relieved that nobody was in the hallway this early, and you were easily able to make it outside without having to hear any more queries about you and your husband.

You had been walking alongside Yone for a bit before deciding to speak up, though this time at least, the silence didn’t feel so awkward.

“Do you think it’s likely to–”

“I can feel it,” Yone hissed suddenly, tensing up.

“Wait, the azakana?” you asked, startled by the timing.

“We must go,” he insisted, disappearing before your eyes.

You brandished your daggers, darting after him towards the woman’s house, hoping she and Kosen would be okay by the time you got there. You knew that Kosen could hold his own in a fight with another azakana, but you didn’t want to test out just for how long.

As you got closer, a roar pierced the air, quickening your pace and emerging into the middle of a fierce fight.

A bulky figure made of pure fire swiped a clawed hand at Kosen, who leaped back, still strangely in tiger form. Looking to the side, you saw why; a frightened form was curled up against the wall, staring through her fingers at the fight.

Kosen must not have wanted to scare her more, but it was unfortunately hindering him in the fight, an issue that was abundantly clear to you as Kosen was obviously on the defensive.

With a well-aimed slash, Yone joined the fight ahead of you, drawing the azakana’s attention away from Kosen as it was forced to contend with him as well, the silent assassin showing no mercy as expected.

While they battled the azakana, you sheathed your daggers and ran to the woman, helping her stand so you could escort her back inside her house.

“What is… what is that?” she asked, shaking, barely able to stay upright as you moved her along the wall until you got to the front door, pulling it open and ushering her inside.

You had hoped to take care of her issue before she caught sight of it, but the problem was out in the open now, which made continuing to lie a fruitless endeavor.

“It’s an azakana,” you admitted, the woman looking confused and skeptical immediately, which was the usual reaction any time you were forced to admit the truth of your endeavors.

“But, azakana…” She sunk to the floor, looking like she had lost all remaining strength to stand.

You didn’t really want to leave her alone, but you couldn’t stay here while the others fought. If this azakana had consumed as many people as you suspected it had, then it would be much stronger than what you usually contended with, which would mean that they would probably need your help.

“You need to stay here,” you stressed to the woman, who dumbly nodded, still seeming very out of it. You were somewhat concerned, but she would be safe in here for now, especially if you were able to take the azakana out as soon as possible.

With that in mind, you re-emerged outside to a fiery scene. You knew both Yone and Kosen would deny it if you brought it up later, but they were working together rather well, Kosen able to pack more of a punch now that he had shifted into his azakana form. They were covering each other so fluidly that it was almost unbelievable that they had been at each other’s throats since they had met.

The azakana looked like it had been on the defensive since Yone joined the fight, forced to raze nearby trees to try and create obstacles for its determined attackers to repel.

Even amidst all the chaos, it spotted you at the door, letting out a shriek and sending a stream of fire your way, forcing you to have to extinguish the door before you could join in the fight to avoid the house catching on fire with the woman still inside. Really you should have been evacuating her, but you knew that would put her in immediate harms way, not to mention the risk of the town burning to the ground if the azakana were to pursue your attempt to flee with her.

You had never fought a flaming azakana before, making sure to keep your strikes fast to avoid being burned. It seemed you were the most fragile of the group, neither Yone nor Kosen fazed by the burn risk; maybe that should be a given, since neither were fully human like you were.

The azakana was likely furious to have its meal snatched from its clutches, only to then be engaged by three attackers who knew what they were doing, its fury showing in the scorching jets of fire it sent all around you.

As the fight went on, it was abundantly clear to all parties involved that the fight was going to end in the azakana’s death. With a terrible screech, it raised its arms, but you weren’t going to back down, leaping towards the demon, the wind rushing in your ears, leaving you deaf to Kosen’s warning cry.

You heard a shout of your name, and then you were snatched out of the air, your face pressed against a bare chest, arm bandages surprisingly soft against your skin.

You grasped onto Yone’s arm with surprise as he leaped back just in time as a wave of fire overtook the sky, shooting against and over Yone’s back before you could blink. Staring at his face in shock, you didn’t see an ounce of pain in his expression as he stared down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eye moving over you to assess you for injuries.

“Me?” You knew he wasn’t human anymore, but he still just bore the brunt of an inferno against his back. “How are you still standing?”

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he answered. “I’ve survived worse.”

A growl from Kosen had Yone turning around with you still in his arms to see Kosen stalking around a scorched pit, huffing angrily.

Yone set you down and you both approached the shallow pit, the large circle of burnt grass leading to a wide path through the trees, leaving scorched bark and leaves in its wake.

“It ran…” you observed in a stupor.

If the azakana had been killed, there would have been a mask left behind, which was noticeably absent, leading you to the only conclusion available, that the azakana had decided to use its remaining power to drive you back long enough to run with its tail between its legs.

“We need to pursue it,” Yone insisted, staring at the azakana’s trail.

You knew he was right, but you also needed to be the person who thought of the human aspect here, since Yone was clearly lacking in that department.

“I have to check on her first,” you insisted, looking back to see the house thankfully only suffered superficial burn damage. “We can’t just leave her here in this state. I can get Kosen to help calm her down and then take her to her friend’s house and then we can leave.”

Yone didn’t protest, which surprised you. You had expected a comment about enabling your pet to take advantage of vulnerable people, or wasting time by delaying, but he simply nodded, approaching the burnt crater to inspect it further.

You called Kosen to follow you, quickly explaining your plan to the tiger, who was now shifted back into his disguise. Kosen huffed his agreement to the plan, receiving a short head pat in return before you reached up to gently knock on the door as a warning before pulling it open slowly.

“Mika?” you called out softly, finding her curled into a ball on her floor. She looked relieved to see you, but tensed up when Kosen crossed the threshold behind you.

“It’s okay,” you tried to calm her down, Kosen keeping his head low to try and help your efforts. “He’s tame. But I think we should get you somewhere else for now. Your friend Sumei is worried about you.”

“Sumei…” she echoed, slowly sitting up, eyes glassy with tears.

“I’ll take you to her,” you promised. “But first, would you like to pet my tiger? I’ve been told it helps calm people down.”

Kosen let out his version of a meow, which seemed to help reassure her, at least enough for Kosen to approach her, her shaky hand reaching for his side, stroking his fur with more confidence once she heard his happy purr.

“My daughter would have liked to meet you,” she told Kosen, the calmer tone of her voice telling you that Kosen’s usual methods were working.

You stood there for around five minutes observing before helping her gather some things together to take with her before setting off. Yone was nowhere to be seen when you exited the house, and part of you wondered if that was because of her previous uncomfortableness when she had answered the door the first time. You were unsure if you were reading too much into the situation; it felt like your perception of Yone was changing by the minute lately.

You led the fragile woman past the burnt pit, her eyes widening as you walked her by a little faster, heading to where you recalled her friend’s house being.

“Mika, oh my god,” Sumei gasped as soon as she saw the three of you at her door.

“Is it alright if she stays here with you for now?” you asked, meeting her eyes with a look that she understood immediately.

“Of course!” she replied encouragingly. “We’d love to have you stay with us, Mika.”

Sumei went back into her house with the excuse of setting up some bedding, clearly giving you a moment alone with Mika.

“You’ll be safe here,” you promised, having confidence in her friend’s dedication to support her.

“Did you… did you kill it?” she asked meekly.

You had been hoping she wouldn’t ask, but you didn’t want to lie to her when it was her life that had been in danger. “It ran away, so I don’t think it’ll be coming after you again. When I’m done here, we’re going right after it to make sure it doesn’t try to hurt anyone else.”

She nodded, but still seemed bothered. “…did you kill the tall man in black?”

“The what?” you asked, her words prickling uncomfortably against your skin.

“He was watching,” she said quietly, staring downwards. “When the fire one attacked me, he just stood there and watched.”

“I…”

You were speechless, the horrible figure from your last moment of normalcy and your nightmare last night coming to your mind, but it couldn’t be that. She must have seen something else, like a gnarled burnt-up tree or something and thought it was watching her. You were only reading too much into her words because of that stupid nightmare. It was up to you to stay calm, to assuage her fears.

Before you had a chance to say anything else, Sumei returned, sending a warm smile her friend’s way. “I made some tea, so I think we should start there.”

“Oh… alright,” Mika replied to her friend before turning back to speak to you in a whisper. “Please be careful. It was so horribly dark.”

“I will,” you agreed, and though she still looked uneasy, she followed her friend into the house, the door closing behind her and formally ending your time in this village.

You were sure somebody would inform the village leader of what had happened, but you just didn’t have the time, not when you had an azakana to catch before there were more casualties.

Kosen huffed in question, but you brushed off his concerns. “I’m fine. Let’s just find Yone and get on our way.”

You found him back at the pit, standing in one of the burnt trees, looking out into the distance.

“I can see its path heading towards the coast,” he informed you after jumping down from the tree. “It has very likely made its way to the town there.”

You had never been by that part of Ionia before, but given it was on the coast, it had to be some sort of fishing town. You would kill for a chance to rest and recharge, but there would be no time for that, not until the firey azakana was dead.

As the three of you set off down the burnt path, you briefly considered telling Yone about Mika’s strange parting words, dismissing the thought as quickly as you had it; you didn’t want Yone to think you were getting paranoid. And besides, if there was another azakana there, then Yone and Kosen would have sensed it or seen it or… something.

All your dwelling on this was doing was distracting you from your current task. The threat whose trail you were following now was real, unlike any imagined threat in the back of your mind, spurned on by a terrified woman who had been seeing things that weren’t there.

Eventually, the burning trail faded to typical forest scenery, telling you that this had been the point where the azakana had recouped enough strength to return to its realm. But there was no question where it would strike next, given you had spoiled its previous intended meal. A decently-sized fishing town would have no shortage of meals for a starving azakana that was desperate to restore its expended strength, and you intended to be ready when it made its move to cut it down first.

While the forest floor was much less comfortable than a bed, it was always relaxing to go back to your comfort zone after a stay in normal society. As much as you wanted to belong somewhere, you knew that your place was in the shadows, only able to fake enough humanity to slay a beast, save a victim and then retreat back to the safety of your solitude. And that’s exactly how it would be again once this azakana was dead and Yone left you too.

…too?

You were being stupid. He still intended to kill you and Kosen if you took one step out of line, or at least hadn’t asserted anything to the contrary. He wasn���t someone you should want around you to begin with, especially given he had now seen you at your very worst. Parting after the death of this azakana should be a relief to you both.

It took you the better part of two days to reach Solni, as the town welcome sign proclaimed.

Despite your personal reservations, you had found yourself paying more attention to Yone. It probably didn’t help that Yone seemed much more willing to initiate conversation with you now, even though he had rebuffed any of your attempts to get him to eat or sleep. He seemed determined to present himself as inhuman, and you began to wonder if it was a defense mechanism of some kind.

Solni seemed like a typical fishing town, much bigger and more bustling than Tevasa had been. In a town this large, there was no sense in talking to the leader or canvassing door-to-door, the town was just too big for that to be of any help.

“It will be desperate for a meal,” Yone said as you stood on a large hill overlooking the town, looking for anything unusual. “It will attack as soon as it has regained its strength, so we should anticipate an imminent attack once it has isolated a target.”

You nodded, on the same page. “Should we head into town then?”

It was an easy decision to defer to Yone’s experience here, given you had never had an azakana escape you before, which made this situation all the trickier. When and where it would strike would be entirely up to chance, and as the only one in your party who didn’t have a strong supernatural sense for azakana, you were the one at most clear disadvantage.

Yone nodded. “In its desperation, it may not even bother isolating its target before it chooses to strike, and we need to be close when it happens.”

You headed into town with Yone, Kosen not seeming to be as much of a big deal to the people here, which came as a pleasant surprise. Maybe they see lots of unusual trade through their port, you reasoned, the tiger gaining no more than curious glances as you passed by people milling about the streets.

Yone seemed to be attracting much more attention in comparison, though you doubted he was aware of it. You had already noticed several women you passed giggling to their friends as he passed, and more than one comment about his toned chest and arms.

For his part, Yone didn’t even look their way, even when a pair called out to mister handsome with the mask, leading you to wonder if he had even heard them, or if he had assumed they were talking to someone else, given what you had learned of his self-perception. Now that you were a little more relaxed around him, it was hard not to notice the reality of his appearance, as much as it made travelling with him more awkward.

The you that had first met Yone would be in disbelief now, your previous scorn now turned to curiosity. You refused to put any more thought into your changing feelings, not wanting to be just like those women, pining after a man that would just vanish into the wind the moment his purpose here was achieved.

“Did you sense something?” you asked as Yone stopped to stare down an alleyway. You could sense if an attack was imminent, but detecting the presence of an azakana in hiding wasn’t a skill that a regular human like yourself could ever develop.

Yone stared at the alley for a moment longer before turning to you. “It’s… flickering.”

You frowned, not really sure what he meant by that.

“Do you–”

“I thought I’d see you here,” a voice interrupted, your vision being overtaken by an obnoxious visage that you had hoped not to see again.

Kosen growled as Shusho laid an unwelcome hand on your shoulder.

“Heard you skipped town after you nearly burnt that woman’s house down,” he remarked casually, eyes glinting with undisguised malice. “Those hicks will be out for blood soon, with you filling that woman’s head with nonsense about demons. I’d have put in a good word for you if you hadn’t been such a stuck-up whore back in Tevasa.”

You felt anger flare through you like a knife slash through your back, Kosen’s snarl telling you he had also not appreciated Shusho’s reappearance.

“Better they are forewarned about real danger than swindled by a charlatan sworn to rid them of a threat that does not exist,” Yone spoke up from behind you, the hostility in his voice chilling your anger and replacing it with shock. You hadn’t heard anger like that in his voice since the night you had met him, and even then, he hadn’t sounded quite this deadly.

Shusho’s eyes shot over to Yone in what looked to you like fear, but the look didn’t stay for long before his sneer was directed back your way.

“Sweet,” he said mockingly. “You have your little boyfriend fight all your battles for you now?”

“No,” you denied, unable to keep your anger contained. “If he did, your ass would be on the floor in pieces by now.”

Shusho’s nostrils flared, eyes dark as he glared at you. “You should watch how you treat people. I was going to give you another chance to make it up to me, but now you’ll really deserve everything that’s coming your way.”

And with that, he turned, disappearing into the crowd within seconds, Kosen’s lunge after him stopped by your hand on his fur. He was creepy and off-putting, but Shusho was not worth causing a scene in the marketplace for, not when you had an actual objective you had to accomplish here.

It was only until you drifted to the alley Yone had been looking at before that you realized your social misstep. Awkwardly, you turned to Yone, embarrassed that you had allowed your anger to overtake you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, finding it hard to meet his eye. “I should have corrected him about the… boyfriend thing.”

You winced at how your voice seemed to crack at the word boyfriend, but Yone seemed unphased, shaking his head in response.

“I do not fight humans,” he spoke, voice tight with anger. “But I have never been so tempted to make an exception.”

You laughed, more relieved than you thought you would be that he wasn’t upset with you. “You’d probably have to fight Kosen first for that right.”

Kosen snarled his agreement, fur still standing on end, the azakana looking just as furious as he had during the distasteful interaction with Shusho.

It felt a little strange to be on the receiving end of protectiveness from more than just Kosen, the feeling definitely not unwelcome in this moment. You tried to stamp down the hope you felt rising in your chest at his words; there was no way he had meant anything by them anyways.

You cleared your throat, figuring that you should change the subject, for your own sake. “Should we try–”

Your words cut off as you were assailed from behind by a wave of pressure so strong that you flinched, eyes meeting Yone’s, his exposed eye narrowing at something behind you.

“Fire!” someone shouted, panicked screams ringing out from all around you as you whipped around to survey the scene.

“Evacuate the crowd,” was all Yone said to you before vanishing from your side into the chaos.

What was in front of you now was not a creature made of fire, but rather a wall. You couldn’t tell where the azakana itself was in the mess, frightened people running in all directions as the marketplace was rapidly engulfed by flames.

You wanted to seek out Yone’s form in the flames, but a loud cracking noise made you spring into action instead, noticing the roof over a large section of the market beginning to crack at the seams.

“Kosen!” you shouted, the tiger already steps ahead of you rushing in to help a group of kids out of the path of a stampeding horse.

You dashed in as well, grabbing the horse by the reins, Kosen quickly absorbing enough of its panic to allow you to lead it away form the scene, handing off the reins to the first person you found that looked like they knew what to do with it before sprinting back into the action.

The area was evacuated quickly with you and Kosen’s help, braver people helping by carrying out the injured as Kosen made sure the way was clear.

You knew that Yone was inside that wall of fire, running in at last once everyone was safely out of the area, ignoring shouts from concerned bystanders for you to stop as you leaped through the demonic fire.

You emerged into an arena of fire and heat, walls encircling you making the area not unlike a colosseum, rubble from the broken roof and overturned stalls making the terrain hard to navigate, never mind the heat beating down on you.

There was a slash across your field of vision, a red line visible amidst the smoke and debris, a demonic howl telling you that Yone’s strike had hit its target. It was hard to tell how the fight had been going with how smoky the area was, but the ball of fire that impacted near you told you that the azakana still had a good amount of strength in reserve.

You didn’t waste a moment longer scaling an overturned booth, climbing past scorched vegetables and leaping to join the fight.

It was hard to miss the firey figure swiping blindly with burning claws to try and catch Yone, but clearly failing as you caught sight of Yone going in for another hit.

Yone was holding his own, but the azakana seemed way stronger than it had been back in Tevasa. You quickly fashioned a mask out of a strip of cloth on your belt to keep out enough of the smoke for you to be able to fight before drawing your own daggers and covering Yone’s flank, diving at the demon with a cut that it barely deflected, Yone’s slash to its side hitting harder as a result of your distraction.

“Has it gotten stronger?” you called out to Yone as you jumped to his side.

“Yes,” he confirmed, sounding offput. “I’m not sure how it could have gotten this much stronger on its own. If we don’t kill it here, it has the potential to decimate this town.”

Your eyes widened in shock, but given how aflame the marketplace had become in a matter of minutes, you felt stupid for not realizing until now. Had it already killed people? You hadn’t noticed any bodies in the rubble, but that was the only reasonable explanation for its wildly increased strength.

“Then what do we do?” you asked before the two of you were forced to dive to the side to avoid a falling beam sent your way by the azakana.

Yone smirked. “Kill it quickly.”

And then he was gone again, dashing through the air to land a brutal strike on the demon. With a sigh, you followed, infusing your daggers with magic to protect yourself from the worst of the flames.

What the azakana lacked in finesse, it made up for in power, throwing clumsy bursts of fire that threw you off balance, making it harder to hit. Yone also seemed to be having some trouble, the azakana able to deflect some of his strikes by shifting its flames.

You were given an assist as through the wall of fire leapt a masked figure of black shadow, sinking his teeth and claws into the azakana’s shoulder, their shared nature preventing the fire azakana from making its fire intangible as Kosen savaged it.

“Kosen!” you cried out, relieved that he had joined the fight as well.

His appearance in azakana form told you that the area was clear of anyone that could see him, which meant that you could fight the azakana without worrying about anyone getting hurt.

Kosen seemed to be able to pin the flailing azakana much better than you and Yone could, your attacks landing much easier, the azakana now caught between trying to shake Kosen off and deflect you and Yone’s attacks.

There was a strange panic in the air as the fight dragged on, the air getting hotter as the azakana’s screeches grew more frantic. Its movements got clumsier, making you almost wonder if it was running out of energy at last.

As Yone dashed through the demon, it let out a garbled series of sounds that almost sounded to you like it was speaking, but you had never heard anything like it before. A quick glance at Kosen showed you that he hadn’t reacted to the noises, leading you to think that you were hearing things again.

Kosen snarled, thrashing from side to side and giving you the perfect opening, which you knew you were running out of time to take advantage of.

The azakana only seemed to take notice of you as you were mere feet from its face, too close to do anything to repel you. In tune with Kosen keeping it in place, you sunk your daggers into its face down to the hilt, cracking its mask in half.

There was a burst of sparks beneath its splitting mask, and before you could get a look at the face under the mask, you were snatched out of the air, finding yourself in Yone’s arms again as he dashed backwards, your view of the dying azakana blocked by Yone’s shoulders.

“Yone, what’s–”

“It’s going to combust,” he quickly explained, and you put a hand on his chest in response, using it to lift yourself up to look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the bright light expanding outwards from the azakana’s body, a terrible heat seeming to chase you until Yone jumped over an overturned stall and then you were outside the cage of fire and debris, Kosen reverting to his tiger form now that you were out in the open again.

Yone let you down and the three of you turned to watch as the dome of debris exploded upwards and outwards. Raising a hand to protect your face from the shower of splinters raining down on you, you turned to face Yone.

“Sorry I broke the mask,” you said jokingly. “I know you probably wanted it for your collection.”

Yone shook his head. “There is little point in trying to understand that azakana.”

“Is that why you keep their masks?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“This way I can ensure they will not return, if I am watching over them,” he answered. “But the only way to claim their mask is to know their true name.”

“Then… is there a risk of that one coming back?” you asked, horrified thoughts turning to every azakana you had slain over the years. It was routine for you to break their masks when you killed them, but had you been merely postponing the inevitable the whole time?

Yone thought for a moment. “I cannot sense the one we killed, so I think it must have perished. Unfortunately, new azakana are born quite frequently, so the problem is not so easily solved as long as there are emotions to consume.”

You sighed with relief all the same. “I’m just glad all the ones I’ve killed stayed dead.”

Your own words reminded you of your deal, the whole reason you had been with Yone for the past week, but your throat felt constricted all of a sudden, like your mouth didn’t want to form the inevitable words that you knew you had to say. But a deal was a deal, and a large part of you wanted to hear what he thought of you now.

“So…” you spoke up, Yone’s gaze sending pinpricks up and down your arms. “What about now?”

“Now?” he echoed, Kosen huffing as he caught onto your thought process, sidling up to you as he looked haughtily up at Yone.

“Do you still need to kill us to prevent us from taking innocent lives or whatever it was?” you asked, grinning at Yone in anticipation of his answer.

Yone’s quiet laugh gave you hope.

“…no,” he answered, the small smile on his lips sending heat to your face. Was this the first time you had seen him smile like this?

You didn’t want it to end like this. With how fast Yone was when he wanted to be, you knew that you had no chance of ever catching him if he were to vanish right now.

“Um, I…!” You winced, your voice coming out way louder than you had meant it to. Way to sound desperate. “If you have time, I was wondering if you’d like to try living like a human for the night? I have some money saved from some previous jobs. We could have a meal in town and then stay at a nice inn.”

You expected Kosen to revolt against your suggestion, but he was strangely quiet, staring at you with an unsettling knowing in his eyes. Yone, for his part, looked surprised, his visible eye wide, clearly caught off guard by your idea. But, you hoped, not put off.

If he wanted to be rid of you, then you would accept that, but you were really hoping that he would want a little more time together as much as you were realizing you did.

His stunned silence was making you nervous, which led to more frazzled babbling.

“I know you haven’t eaten since, well… but maybe if you tried, there would be something–”

Yone laughed, a real laugh, which shut your mouth instantly. “I would like that.”

It was your turn to be shocked, not expecting Yone to ever agree, too stunned to respond until Kosen nudged you from behind.

“Let’s, uh, go then!” you exclaimed, almost tripping over your own feet before you righted yourself, fast walking your way out of the ruined marketplace as if you could leave your awkwardness behind as well.

“I’ll have to trust your recommendation then,” Yone said, easily catching up to your hasty strides. “Even when I was alive, I can’t say my meals were anything particularly special.”

“Then I’ll find a great place!” you insisted with feigned confidence. You did treat yourself to nice meals occasionally when you found yourself in bigger cities, but you weren’t an expert by any means, just determined for this borrowed time with Yone to not be a waste. “This is a port town, so there should be good seafood somewhere.”

You slipped out of the crowd just as people began to pour into the marketplace to begin salvaging things, providing the perfect cover for you to blend into the crowd unnoticed. You were relieved to be able to escape without notice, not wanting the townspeople’s questions and accolades to cut into your remaining time with Yone.

By early evening, you were settled into a quiet upscale restaurant by the water, just you and Yone, the restaurant less accepting of your demon tiger than the marketplace had been. Kosen had been happy enough to return to the marketplace to survey the damage and offer comfort to anyone who was upset about the incident, which would take care of his dinner for the night as well.

“I ordered a few of their specialties,” you explained after the food had been brought to your table, just the sight mouthwatering after so many meals scrounged together in the woods.

Thinking maybe Yone needed a push, you cut yourself a piece of the center dish, an Ionian carp in xaolan berry sauce, popping it in your mouth and sighing in delight at the flavor.

Yone seemed to reluctantly follow your lead, skillfully plucking a piece of rolled fish with his chopsticks.

You watched in anticipation as he brought the roll to his mouth, before his eye flickered from his food to you, clearly catching you in the act.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, realizing how awkward you were being. “I didn’t mean to stare, I was just…”

You trailed off, unable to think of an excuse that wouldn’t sound stupid, but Yone didn’t seem bothered, smiling knowingly at you before putting the roll in his mouth.

Even his chewing seemed refined, making you wonder how he had grown up. The only thing he had really talked about was his brother, and you weren’t eager to dig up those old wounds again.

“So how is it?” you asked, unable to hold in your excitement.

“It’s good,” he answered simply, reaching out with his chopsticks for another piece. “The taste isn’t similar at all, but still it reminds me of home.”

“Of meals with your family?” you asked, assuming that was a safe enough topic.

“With my mother,” Yone answered. “And later, my brother. Though he could hardly sit still enough for a proper meal.”

“Then did your mother teach you your table manners?” you asked, trying to keep things light.

Yone smiled fondly. “I suppose she did. She always did say I was a model student. I hesitate to wonder what she would think of me now.”

“I think she’d be proud,” you declared, refusing to allow him to sink into gloom.

Yone looked wistful, glancing out the window at the ocean. “One son a killer, another a monster. I can only hope she hasn’t heard either of our fates. It would be easier on her if she thought we were both dead.”

“I get what you mean,” you agreed, idly cutting another piece of fish for yourself as you followed the tone Yone was setting. “I’ve overheard so many theories from people about why my village perished, but I’ve never corrected any of them. I kinda feel like if I tell anyone what really happened, then I won’t be able to mourn my parents anymore. Not if everyone knew what they did.”

“Then mourn them as they were,” Yone said, his gaze strangely calming. “When I think of Yasuo now, it is not always him as he was when he cut me down. I think of the little brother I defended from bullies, the one who always gloated when he won our sparring matches… the part of them you think of is your decision. I have spent so many years dwelling on one poor choice that I cannot judge your parents for theirs.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek before you could stop it, hastily reaching up in a vain effort to keep Yone from noticing. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to ruin this.”

“You’re still human,” Yone countered gently. “Emotion is natural.”

You frowned at him; it always rubbed you the wrong way when he excluded himself from humanity.

“I think you’re plenty human,” you insisted strongly. “You haven’t eaten since then, but here you are, eating in a restaurant like all the other humans. Are you sure you’re still some big scary monster lurking in the dark?”

Yone shook his head in clear exasperation, but took your strangely-phrased question seriously.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted, staring down at the food spread out between you. “…but you make me not want to be.”

You were still trying to shake off the giddiness you felt from Yone’s mid-dinner admission as you walked down the streets side by side, attempting to scope out a good inn for the night, insistent that Yone also try to sleep after his success eating a meal.

You had been too nervous to ask what he had meant by those words, instead wimping out and turning the conversation back to the food.

You were such a mess of anxiety, knowing at least vaguely what you wanted, but unable to voice it. The more time you spent with Yone, the less you wanted to go your own way, but you had no idea what he wanted. But above all, you just wanted to give him at least one night of being human, no matter how he saw himself.

And as much as he called himself a monster, he had been willing to go along with your idea, the two of you having dinner as if you were average people on an average date. That had to count for something, right? Why was he so desperately clinging to being a monster?

“I have enough money for two rooms,” you suggested, not wanting to come off as too forward while simultaneously hating yourself for being so sensitive about everything to do with Yone now.

“That is not necessary,” he said, catching you off guard with the sly smile on his lips. “After all, you’ve declared your intent that I sleep. How will you ensure I keep to my word if we’re not in the same room?”

Your mind jumped to that night back in Tevasa, where you had jokingly threatened Yone into staying with you that night when you were without Kosen. Was Yone… teasing you?

Heart beating heavily in your chest, you smiled back conspiratorially. “I guess we did make a deal.”

“One room then,” Yone confirmed, turning to enter the inn ahead of you, leaving you to catch up to him.

You easily procured the room, the innkeeper too busy talking to another customer about the explosion at the market to make any husband comments, even Yone’s appearance not enough to catch her eye over the latest gossip, which was a great relief to you.

The inn was relatively deserted for the late evening, most of the patrons likely in their modest pub, if the noise coming from that direction as you passed by was any indication.

Bars were one area where you felt as inhuman as Yone, only having been in them for information gathering, the rowdiness and sheer volume of noise too much for someone like you who spent most of her time camping out in the woods with a tiger. It was a world you doubted you would ever truly know, and you were more than fine with that.

This room was much fancier than the one back in Tevasa, with a large plush bed, a glance into the adjoining bathroom revealing a bath large enough to fit two people comfortably. Scrubbing that observation from your head, you turned back to Yone, who was setting both his swords down onto a table.

“Do you… want to take a bath?” you asked hesitantly. You couldn’t wait to have one yourself after the day you had, the feel of soot and debris clinging to you since you had fought the azakana. But you were determined to let Yone go first, even if it meant you would sit in squalor for just a little longer.

“Alright,” he agreed, reaching up to begin unwinding the bandages on his arms.

The rapidly-revealed muscles of his arms were immediately too much for you, turning your face away to feign interest in a painting of what you thought was supposed to be some sort of one-legged horse. It wasn’t until you heard his lower garments hit the floor that you realized you should have insisted he undress in the bathroom, cursing your brain for its current lack of coherent thought. He had such impeccable manners at dinner, how did he not know not to undress in the same room as a woman? Maybe you would have to take back your comment about his mother being proud of him after all…

“I’ll just, uh, be out here,” you said, trying not to flinch when you heard the sound of Yone’s bare feet on the floor, but you only had to maintain composure until he walked past you and into the bathroom, and then…

“Aren’t you coming?”

You squeaked at the sudden voice at your ear, having to put out a hand against the maybe-horse painting in front of you to keep yourself from falling forward.

“That’s…!” You whipped around in shock before getting one look at his uncovered torso and turning back to face the painting. “You may not have eaten in years, but I know your mom didn’t raise you in a nudist colony!”

You heard Yone laugh behind you. “…I suppose not.”

You couldn’t relax your tense shoulders until he was in the bathroom, the sound of the door closing allowing you to breathe at last.

Staring at the closed door, you weren’t sure what to think. Where had that even come from?

You couldn’t deny that you and Yone had become much more friendly than you used to be, but the… flirting had really come out of nowhere. Even calling it flirting felt wrong, but how else were you supposed to look at it?

Letting out a weary sigh, you set your bag onto a chair, removing your dagger belt from your waist and placing it on the table next to Yone’s swords. Your eyes drifted from your sheathed daggers to rove over Yone’s swords, realizing now just how much they represented him.

You had never asked him, but it was clear that one sword was older, clearly well-cared for in his previous life. It was strange to you that he denied his humanity while still carrying the sword he had in life, but whatever his hang-ups, it was clear the issue was tightly wound inside him.

His other sword was flashy, the blade a vibrant red. Running a finger along the blade, it felt like no metal you had ever felt before. You wanted to know, but at the same time, you felt like the truth of the blade’s origin would be a painful one.

Leaving the strange sword alone, you looked around the room, trying to find something to occupy your time with.

You were fixing a tear on one side of one of your shirts, carefully angled to face away from the bathroom when the door opened again, Yone’s earlier teasing words ringing frustratingly in your head as you heard him redress.

When you were fairly certain he had at least his pants on, you forced yourself to turn and look at him, hoping you didn’t look as frazzled as you felt.

Yone looked frustratingly unbothered, dressed in only his pants, looking almost like a normal man if not for the mask on his face. He seemed to have been waiting for you to look at him, approaching the bed with a curious disposition.

“You sew?” he asked.

“I, uh, yeah,” you replied, nowhere near as eloquently as you wanted to. “You don’t make a lot of money killing monsters nobody knows about, so I try to make my clothes last. Only so much I could do after we encountered an azakana with acid saliva, though.”

You had mentioned the azakana offhandedly, but Yone seemed to latch on, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“I have yet to meet any of that variety,” Yone commented. “The azakana I encounter tend to feign human guises to lure their prey in.”

You wondered if that was because of his mask. Were there azakana you were letting slip through your fingers because you couldn’t see through their disguises? You were lucky you had Kosen to help pick up your slack in that area, but you couldn’t help but wonder if any azakana had slipped from your grasp without you knowing.

Switching places with Yone, you enjoyed another hot bath, rivers and lakes never able to compare to how nice it felt to have a real bath. Why did you ever deny yourself the comforts of normal society? You only ever seemed to realize how much you missed for your pursuit of azakana when you were able to have a taste of the normal life.

The water was nearly cold by the time you got out, unwilling to give up until you had no choice. Your mind had been pleasantly relaxed, free of any burdens as you bathed, reality crashing back down on you as you opened the door to see Yone sitting on the bed, right where you had left him.

It was dark enough now that Yone’s figure was streaked with shadow, his left side and exposed eye painted with light from the tall candle that sat on the bedside table. Yone’s swords were still on the table next to your daggers, making you wonder if he had just been sitting there on the bed the whole time you were in the bath.

Yone didn’t wear a lot to begin with, but it was strange to see him in just a pair of tight dark pants, a quick glance to the side revealing his wraps and belted sarong folded in a chair, so he had clearly done something while you had been in the bath.

He had gone along with everything you had asked, but you hadn’t really thought too far ahead to this part, given the room only had one bed. Suddenly nervous, you froze in place; would it be too weird to share a bed with Yone? You weren’t opposed necessarily, but you didn’t want to make Yone uncomfortable, not on what was your last night with him.

“Have you ever shared a room with a woman before?” you asked, trying to sound casual even as your feet were rooted to the spot.

Yone looked curious, but indulged you. “Only my mother, before Yasuo was born. After then, Yasuo was such a handful that I’d never have time to consider such things.”

You laughed. “I get what you mean. My parents were really serious about me learning to be a great leader. Dad caught me talking to a boy when I was supposed to be studying and then yelled at me in front of him… he didn’t try to talk to me again after that.”

Yone sighed. “I know that overprotectiveness well. Sometimes I wondered if Yasuo enjoyed causing trouble for me to rescue him from.”

“I can see why you aren’t eager to visit him again,” you joked, Yone’s smile telling you that you hadn’t offended him, which was a relief.

“I’m just glad he seems to have found his own way,” Yone replied. “Back when I was alive, I would have worried about him being jailed if I wasn’t there to guide his way. I look back now and feel ashamed of how I coddled him.”

“You loved him,” you insisted softly. “I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of.”

“I suppose I did,” he acquiesced, looking down at his lap.

You had meant to help, but it felt like you were just making things worse. It was then that you remembered your original goal, before you had allowed yourself to get distracted.

“Do you… want to try sleeping?” you asked hesitantly, recalling his previous reasoning. “I won’t force you though. I’ve had my own share of nightmares lately.”

“I’d like to try,” he responded, surprising you with his willingness.

Your shock was clearly a little too plain on your face, Yone laughing softly, prompting you to force your face back into a neutral expression.

“Tonight, I want to live like I was still human,” he spoke resolutely. “So I will endeavor to try. I have hope that my nightmares will not reach me here.”

Your need to protest his self-description was strong, but you got the feeling that it would shatter the moment, so you kept those thoughts to yourself. Yone had banished your own nightmares back in Tevasa, and you were determined to return the favor.

You looked from Yone to the bed, a sudden thought coming to mind. “Actually, how is that going to work with your mask? Do you need to sleep sitting up?”

Yone looked amused as he looked down at the pillow, one hand coming up to run along one of the longer spikes on his mask.

“That wasn’t a concern that had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “Are you sure we should be risking the life of this pillow?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I thought you were only concerned about azakana.”

“Maybe my opinion is changing,” he said, and you had to fight against the fluttering beat your heart was sent into.

He was clearly just joking, you needed to stop taking it so seriously. You were ashamed of yourself; the first real male attention you’d received in ten years and your brain can’t stop looking for hidden meanings in everything he says.

“Do you need any help?” you asked as he laid down, hastily correcting yourself when you realized how your words could be interpreted. “I mean, my mom used to sing to me, but I’m not sure you want that. Even Kosen cringes when I try to–”

“My mother used to stroke my hair,” Yone mercifully interrupted. “When I was a child, before Yasuo was born.”

You weren’t sure if Yone realized it or not, but you began to wonder when the last time he had done something for himself was. He lived for his brother, died for his country’s honor, and now killed azakana for the safety of Ionia, still no closer to figuring out the secrets of his mask, the one goal he had mentioned. You were sure Yone had meant the hair stroking as no more than an idle response to what you had said, but you couldn’t help but want to act on the unspoken desire, to grant him the opportunity to be selfish for once.

Yone stiffened as your hand met his hair, but said nothing, which you took as a sign to keep going. Yone seemed to gradually relax under your touch, while you found yourself only getting more flustered by your own actions.

You were just comforting him, you reasoned with yourself, even though your own reasoning rung hollow within your own mind. Would it even be worth trying to convince him to stay? You weren’t sure if you could stand the rejection, so maybe it would be easier to just let him go and go back even if the thought felt incredibly lonely now.

“My mom used to yell at me for sleeping in trees,” you spoke up, deciding that maybe a silly childhood story would help take both of your minds off of things. “I hated how everything I did revolved around eventually being leader, so I started hiding from my parents whenever I had lessons. Eventually they put a bell around my neck like a pet so they could find me.”

“Not a bad idea,” Yone mused, the softness in his voice making you wonder if he was getting sleepy at all. “I doubt a bell would have kept Yasuo out of trouble.”

“It didn’t stop me either,” you admitted, the memory a particularly proud moment of yours. “I used to stuff the bell with cotton. Though I had to keep finding new trees to hide in since my parents would always find me eventually.”

You smiled, remembering another funny little detail about that particular story. “My dad finally had to have one of the council members follow me around at all times. I used to make a game of losing them. Child me thought it was very worth the scolding I’d get from my parents when I came out from hiding.”

Your hand had absentmindedly continued to stroke along Yone’s hair, so caught up in recalling your own memories that you only noticed now just how still Yone had become.

“Yone?” you spoke softly, testing your suspicions.

Was he really asleep? Part of you had thought this was a foolish endeavor – there was no way that someone as uptight as Yone would be able to rest his eyes for even a second, but the proof was undeniable, Yone’s even breaths barely audible in the silent room.

Thinking on it, you didn’t even find him uptight anymore… when did that stop? When you first met him, you couldn’t imagine having a frankly pleasant dinner with him. You had been surprised you could even get him to agree not to kill you and Kosen that first day, and here you were, not wanting to part ways tomorrow…

This was all too much to think about. Your day had clearly been slowly catching up to you as you sat on the bed next to Yone, your eyes suddenly fighting to stay open.

You wanted to stay awake, to savor the peace you felt in this moment, but today had been too long of a day for you to stay awake out of sheer force of will. Reluctantly admitting defeat, you did your best to creep under the blanket without disturbing Yone, staring at his back for the few short moments that it took for you to fall asleep.

You were a mess of nerves as you stepped out of the inn and onto the late morning streets.

It was a miracle that you had woken up before Yone did, because you had nearly had a heart attack when you had woken up with your head lying against his bare chest. It had been such a palpable relief when you looked up to see Yone’s eyes still closed, his arm around your waist telling you that asleep you was clearly not the only one at fault for the predicament.

The fire azakana was dead, and you had nowhere to be in a hurry, so you decided to let Yone sleep in. According to him, he seemed to be due a good sleep-in for years at this point.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see Kosen curled up underneath a large tree across the street from the inn. Approaching your feline friend, Kosen sensed you as you approached, treating himself to a nice long stretch before meeting you halfway, the two of you finding a spot out of the way to stop and talk.

“You look happy,” you commented, easily noticing how lively he looked. “Lots of people to comfort yesterday?”

Kosen grunted in the affirmative, confirming the obvious.

“Glad you had a decent night too,” you smiled, freezing when Kosen’s ears seemed to prick up at the word too.

“Wait,” you protested, waving your hands in denial as Kosen pinned you with a curious stare. “It’s not like that, we didn’t… ugh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Kosen didn’t deny the accusation, his tail smacking against your side in amusement.

“I thought you were supposed to hate him,” you groaned in embarrassment.

You watched the townsfolk mill about, your hand idly petting Kosen’s back as you finally put voice to the thoughts that had been plaguing you for some time now.

“Kosen… I think I want to ask him to stay with us,” you spoke quietly, voice barely above a whisper, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, even with your company being your oldest friend.

You had expected protest, some form of growling that was meant to serve as Kosen’s version of a hell no, his silence instead unnerving you. Forcing yourself to turn and look at him, it was very apparent why.

When you met his knowing eyes, Kosen nudged your hand with his head, his quiet groan telling you everything you needed to know, years of knowing him aiding your perception.

“…you knew?” you asked softly, Kosen’s nod like a soothing balm to your tortured heart. “Well I wish you had said something sooner. I was ready for you to hate me forever.”

Kosen growled in protest and you shook your head with a laugh. “I know you’d never leave me. But I at least expected you to drag me off to the asylum and leave me there after everything we’ve been through with him.”

You stared at the inn where Yone still slept, feeling a weight lifted from your chest. You didn’t know what you would do if you lost Kosen, his trust in your judgment meaning so much to you.

“…you think he’ll run the other way screaming?” you laughed, Kosen huffing in amusement at your side.

You stayed out idly chatting with Kosen for a while longer until you realized that you should probably see if Yone was awake. He could be pretty unpredictable sometimes, and you didn’t want him to decide to leave before you even had a chance to talk to him.

The walk back to the room was spent overthinking. If he was still asleep, should you wake him up? If he was awake, what would you even say to him? At this point, you weren’t sure which option felt harder to confront as you reached the door, feet barely cooperating with you.

You opened the door slowly, intent on being quiet in case he was still sleeping, which turned out to not matter as you quickly spotted him sitting on the edge of the bed. He had been staring out the window, but turned his head to face you as he heard the door open, though you doubted he hadn’t heard your footsteps leading up to the door.

“How was your sleep?” you asked cautiously, the question feeling strange on your tongue knowing how long it had been since he had slept at all.

“It was strange,” he answered, sounding like he didn’t fully understand either. “There were no nightmares.”

“That’s good,” you replied with a smile, relieved to hear that his first sleep in a long time had not been a failure. “Any sleep without nightmares sounds like a good night to me.”

“A fair point,” he replied, standing up from the bed.

You waited, standing too still, for it to happen. For the inevitable goodbye, for him to disappear now that your agreement had been met, now that your borrowed time had come to an end.

But he didn’t disappear, instead getting out of bed and strapping his swords back to his sides, each movement he made making you wonder if it was the last one you would ever see him make. You were still waiting with dread as he came to a stop before you, looking at you with concern.

Instead of saying anything about your demeanor, he chose to bypass it entirely. “I can sense your pet outside.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied after a brief moment of confusion before realizing that maybe he wanted to say goodbye to Kosen too before leaving. “He’s waiting outside.”

You wanted to say it then, to ask him if he really had to leave, but fear stilled your tongue and you turned instead to lead him out of the room and down to Kosen.

The walk outside was too silent, and you hoped that Yone didn’t find it as stifling as you did. All the words you wanted to say were spoken instead in your mind, hoping that you would have the courage to say them when you got outside.

You exited the hotel, Yone still silent behind you, to see Kosen across the street right where you had left him. The tiger perked up when he saw you, but noticed your emotional state as soon as he was within five feet, his eyes piercing through you knowingly, as if to say you didn’t ask him yet?

You shook your head minutely at Kosen, who huffed at you in playful exasperation. Yone paid the interaction no mind, coming to a stop before the azakana, who turned his head away as if to snub Yone.

Yone laughed at the tiger’s display. “I had hoped a night of feasting on the emotions of innocents would have evened your temper.”

Yone’s taunt worked perfectly, Kosen’s head turning sharply to face him, ears flattening against his head in time with his ruffled warning growl.

You smiled at the scene, the courage to try coming to you at last.

“You sure you don’t want to kill us?” you asked jokingly. “Last chance.”

Yone turned to you, staring silently as if he was giving the question genuine thought, though the lightness in his exposed eye betrayed him.

“You and your pet demon will not be felled by my sword,” he confirmed lightheartedly, which brought a smile to your face, making it easier for you to make an attempt to form the words you had been idly rehearsing in your head all morning.

You could feel Kosen looking at you, likely sensing what was coming. You could only hope this would go well, knowing any thoughts in the other direction right now would make you lose your nerve.

“We make a good team,” you said, trying not to sound as anxious as you felt. You didn’t want to do anything to scare him away, or make him feel like he had to agree to stay. “We don’t have to go our own ways, if you don’t want to. You could stay with us.”

You expected pause, but your heart twinged in your chest when the look of shock, even horror, took over Yone’s features. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, when you were interrupted by a frantic voice behind you.

“Miss!” a young boy called out to you, looking out of breath as he came to a stop before you. “You’re a warrior, right?”

You didn’t want to look away from Yone, terrified that he would vanish the second you did, but something in the boy’s voice put you similarly on edge.

“I am,” you confirmed tensely, much easier than clarifying what you really were. “Is something wrong?”

“The Noxians are coming!” the boy exclaimed, the words tinging your blood icy. “The fishermen saw ships coming and they said to find all the warriors to fight them so everyone else can run away before we die!”

This was just what you didn’t need right now, the boy running off to gather others before you could ask him any further questions.

Kosen let out a soft chuff, which you answered with a nod. This discussion could happen later, after the issue of the Noxians had been handled. “We should go to the harbor and assess the situation.”

You took a few steps towards the direction of the water, noticing immediately that Yone wasn’t following you.

“…Yone?” you prompted, incredibly unnerved by the tension still in his face, his posture stiff. “We need to go, we likely don’t have much time.”

Yone’s eye went hard, all conflict vanishing from his face as if he had come to a decision.

“It does not concern me.”

“What?” You stared at him, not understanding, not until he spoke again.

“War creates more azakana,” he insisted sharply. “I have no time to waste fighting human battles when hundreds of azakana will soon be born.”

You noticed all too clearly that he had said I, not we, his words enraging you all the same.

“I know how azakana are created,” you replied, storming back over to him, his suddenly impassive gaze making you feel like you were talking to a stranger. “But there are people here now who will die if we just leave. Do you care so little about people’s lives?”

“I care about protecting them from threats they will not see coming,” he hissed back.

“There won’t be anything left for the azakana if the Noxians rip them apart first!” you argued, temper flaring. “Are you really so desperate to reject humanity that you would let this whole town die?”

You had been trying to get through to him, but by the fierce look in his eye, you realized you had done the exact opposite. You saw the warning signs on his face, reaching a hand out to him.

“Yone, wait–”

But he was gone, faster than you could ever hope to follow. Your chest was filled with regret immediately, too shocked to even cry.

Kosen nudged your hand with his head, letting out a sympathetic groan that drew your head down to look at him, and then the tears fell.

“Kosen…” you whimpered miserably, reality coming down on you with the force of a boulder. “I’m sorry, I messed up.”

Kosen’s growled reply told you he disagreed, the tiger always your fiercest defender.

You wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground and cry into Kosen’s fur, to mourn the loss of your high hopes, to lose yourself in your fresh loneliness and pain, but you knew you couldn’t. Your pain was not the priority, not when so many lives were at stake. So, burying your regret in your chest for now, you turned to Kosen.

“We should probably… the harbor,” you spoke between sobs, hand running along Kosen’s soft fur, the tiger patiently waiting for you to calm yourself down.

It took a few minutes for your breaths to become even again, trying to bolster your own resolve as you looked at Kosen with wet eyes.

“I guess it’s just us again,” you tried to joke, your voice just sounding miserable to your own ears. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go, wishing you could take back your last words to Yone. Maybe things could have worked out if you could have just controlled your temper. “We should… we should go.”

Kosen by your side, you had only taken a few steps again towards the coast when heavy footfalls from behind you drew your attention. Even knowing that Yone’s footsteps had never been loud, you desperately hoped that they were his as you turned, and then suddenly your day got so much worse.

Kosen stepped protectively in front of you as Shusho rushed towards you, the desperation on his face giving you pause.

“The Noxians,” he panted, clearly as out of breath as the kid had been.

“I know,” you replied, guard up, Kosen snarling at your side. “We’re going to the harbor to meet up with the others.”

“You can’t!” he protested, only spiking your ire until he continued. “I saw… a group of them in the forest. I think they intend to strike first, to push the people to their forces on the water!”

“The forest?” you echoed, horrified. How Noxian was it to corner before the slaughter. If that was the case, the people stood little chance with soldiers coming at them from both sides.

“They’re planning to strike immediately,” he insisted, gesturing wildly behind him as if the army would appear at any second. “If we don’t cut them off, nobody here will have a chance!”

You hated how right he was, hated that it wasn’t Yone here in front of you asking for your help. But Yone was gone, and you doubted you would ever see him again. What mattered now was what you could do to help these people before they were slaughtered like cattle. And then you could deal with your own issues.

Mind frustratingly made up, you unsheathed your daggers, preparing for a fight.

“Lead the way.”

You knew Kosen was unhappy; you were too, but neither of you wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t stop the Noxians currently marching through the forest.

You followed Shusho into the woods, the man ahead of you straying from the main path immediately. You hoped for both your sakes that he had any fighting capability at all if you wanted any chance of surviving this. Kosen would be no doubt eating well after all this was over, if the pain threatening to consume you alive as you ran was any indication.

The area Shusho came to a stop in was quiet, too quiet, which set off blaring alarms in your head.

“They were here!” he insisted as you could feel your suspicions rising, at least until he pointed in the direction of a group of trees. “Over there!”

You squinted, a strange black shape just visible past the trees. Given Shusho’s exclamation, you figured your element of surprise had all but fled, so you darted over, dagger raised to strike quickly, only to emerge into a stranger situation than you had expected.

There were no Noxian soldiers in the clearing, no sign that they had been there at all, but the coast was certainly not all clear.

You ignored Kosen’s growl of warning, stepping forward to get a closer look at the swirling black mass that hovered just above the grass.

The large black oval was about the size of a full-length mirror, made of swirling black shapes that looked almost like thick smoke. You resisted the urge to touch the strange shape, overcome by a sense of dread from deep within you. Whatever this was, it was deeply wrong, you knew that much.

“This feels–”

Your words turned into a scream as you were pushed harshly from behind, falling forwards into the horrible dark, which easily accepted you into its welcoming embrace.

You emerged from the portal in an instant to a world of black.

The ground beneath you looked like black glass, so clear that you could see your reflection in it. Looking around in terror, you saw tall spindly trees that looked frighteningly like human forms, their feigned limbs twisted grotesquely. Their figures looked blurry, like you were looking at them through a warped lens, the humanlike trees getting no clearer the closer you walked to them.

Where were you? The wrong feeling you had felt before was crushing you now, and it was taking all your strength to keep standing.

There was no portal in sight, so you had no way out of this place. No Kosen or Shusho either, and you had no way of knowing if you were alone here or not. This place reminded you of your nightmares, unable to keep the terror down as you looked around the never-ending black, unable to find a way out.

You wouldn’t be alone for long. Casual, unhurried steps behind you had you turning to see Shusho, who was strolling towards you like he was on the streets back in Tevasa, not in this world of dark.

“We need to get out of here,” you insisted as you rushed over to him, finding some relief in seeing someone else here, even if that someone was Shusho. “Where is my tiger?”

“Not here,” he answered flippantly, wide smile discontenting amidst all the black. “And don’t worry, I’ll be leaving soon.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded, fear giving rise to anger at his casual tone.

“You’ll see,” he answered cryptically. “After it gets here.”

“What?” You couldn’t make sense of any of this, but something in his words unnerved you worse than the portal or the creepy trees.

And then there was what felt like a ripple in the air, one that felt so horrible that it sent you to your knees, daggers clattering to the floor in favor of clasping your hands over your ears to try and block out the feelings attacking you.

The ripple vanished as soon as it had come, leaving you feeling breathless and small on the ground as you looked up to see a figure so large that it swallowed the sky, a figure you had thought you would only ever see again in your nightmares.

“No… no…” you gasped, trying to reach for your daggers, but hands shaking too hard to grasp hold of them.

“Sweet daughter of sorrow,” it purred, voice so intense in this place that it shook the ground beneath you. “Surely you did not think you would be spared forever?”

“This can’t be happening right now…” you shuddered, breathing hard as you looked to your side, to where Kosen always was, to see only your reflection in the smooth black ground. You looked like a mess, eyes wide with fear, Shusho’s grinning form looming behind you like a sinister shadow, which drew your attention back to his strange calm.

“What are you doing?” you implored him, eyes still darting around for an escape. “We need to get out of here now. You don’t know what that thing is capable of!”

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied, and then something clicked into place in your mind. He was far too casual, too nonchalant in the face of the horrors all around you, for the nightmarish beast in the sky who seemed content to watch the scene before it with a wide, hungry smile.

“What did you do?” you questioned him, voice shaky with anger.

“Nothing you didn’t deserve,” he answered smugly.

“What did you do?” you repeated furiously, your hands finding grip on your daggers at last, up on your feet in an instant.

“All I did was pay you back for being such a stuck-up bitch,” he retorted haughtily. “I told you you’d regret thinking you were too good for me, and now I’m gonna get what I’m owed.”

“So then all that stuff about the Noxians?” you prompted, needing to confirm your suspicions.

Shusho’s laugh sounded even louder in this quiet, barren world. “Worked even better than I thought. Kid only wanted two gold to run over and cry Noxians. I knew your little boyfriend wouldn’t be one to stick around for any real threats. After that, it was easy to lure you to the portal and push you in.”

“Wait, then there isn’t a Noxian fleet at all?” you gasped, your suspicions not having progressed past the forest yet.

“You catch on slow,” he sniffed. “Good thing I���m not interested in your brains. That’s the deal.”

“Are you insane?” you shouted, keeping one eye on the azakana that had destroyed your life so many years ago. “Whatever it promised you, it lied. Azakana don’t honor their deals or care about anything but themselves!”

“It didn’t promise too much,” Shusho replied haughtily, clearly unconvinced by your words. “It’s sure got a big thing for you, not hard to see why. Our deal was easy, it eats your soul and I get what’s left over minus all the attitude for whatever I want. Win-win.”

You felt sick at the realization. This sick freak made a deal with an azakana just to get to a body that couldn’t say no?

“If you think you’ll be around long enough for that to happen, you’re stupider than I thought,” you seethed, weapons now at the ready.

Shusho actually looked briefly startled by your threat, his eyes darting to the dark shape that was the sky, who seemed to be relishing the scene before it.

“Well what are you waiting for?” he shrieked at the azakana, backing away from you with quick steps.

“She speaks true,” it drawled, coming to loom over both of you, plunging the area into its shadow. “You have brought me my long-awaited meal, but I will not overlook an appetizer. Not when it has walked itself most willingly into my den.”

It was Shusho’s turn to panic now, his face red with anger. “You– we had a deal! Fine, just eat her then, I’m leaving!”

“Where will you go?” the azakana purred. “There is nowhere to run now. It is time for a lesson that you will learn too late.”

You dashed away from Shusho as the shadow descended rapidly, plucking Shusho from the floor as easily as if he weighed nothing. His final scream was short as he was pulled apart from every direction, vanishing into the darkness as if he was never there.

You felt nothing but contempt for the conman; he had gotten what he deserved, but that still left you without a solution for your problem. If the azakana from your childhood went to these lengths to get you here, then you had little chance of making it out of this alive.

Your last thought before its attention turned to you was of Kosen. You were sorry to leave him, and hoped he would be okay after you were gone. But for now, you intended to put up a fight, daunting as it was.

Yone walked silently through the forest, accompanied by only his troubled thoughts.

He had been so close, so desperate to take your offer, to feel like he could be alive again.

But he couldn’t, and the truth of why was plain on his face. Nobody could look at him and see anything but a monster, nobody but you. He didn’t belong to the human world, given he hadn’t been human in many years, he had lost that right after all his failures.

You were so good, so human, and it reminded him of everything he could have been, if he hadn’t turned into what he was. You remained human, even amidst the worst moment of your life, while he had fallen so low that he was unrecognizable. He had become just like the monsters he hunted, and needed to remain far from you. You were beautiful, a ray of light far too bright for his eyes, one that he wouldn’t allow himself to taint. The sight of your frantic expression just before he left had nearly broke him, and again it was because of him, because his fragile control of himself was so fractured when he was around you.

He would disappear back into the darkness, kill azakana from the shadows, and never be so foolish again. To think that he would accuse you of being a monster, when he was the one whose soul was tainted by regrets that he refused to acknowledge. This was his role, he resolved, even as his soul screamed at him to return to you. He would never make a mistake like that again, never pretend to be anything but a monster.

Yone’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a strong azakana presence that was only getting closer. The Noxian invasion had to have begun then, his mind drifting to you almost against his will before he snapped it back to the present. This was familiar, this was his purpose, and with that in mind, he drew his swords, ready to go back to the dull and familiar.

What emerged from the brush stilled his swords. Kosen, in his azakana form, leaped through the brush, Yone’s frustration vanishing as soon as he noticed the tiger’s erratic behavior.

Kosen roared at him, unable to stay still in his panic. His roars sounded like nothing Yone had heard from him before, not even when they had first met. As he stared at the clearly-frantic azakana, Yone realized with an unsettling feeling that you were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” he asked, unable to shake the horrible feeling that had settled over him.

Kosen didn’t waste a second, roaring furiously before turning around and rocketing back where he had come from. Fear spiking, Yone darted after him without another word, both of them easily able to move through the forest at top speed.

What would he see when they got to wherever Kosen was leading him? Yone knew the azakana cared deeply for you, and so it would likely take a very dire situation for him to leave your side to find help.

Would you be lying in your own blood, cleaved apart by Noxian soldiers, or worse? Yone had a hard time imagining what could be worse, but he desperately hoped you would still be alive by the time he got there.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had left thinking you would be better off without him, so what could have happened in the short time since he had left you?

What Yone found instead of the bloodshed he had expected was a violently swirling portal, the tendrils of black that made up its surface whipping around like they were waves in the midst of a storm.

Kosen’s furor only got more intense as he dashed over to the portal, leaping at it, only to instead leap through it as if it wasn’t there. Turning back to Yone, Kosen yowled desperately, trying to explain what had happened to you.

“She’s in there,” Yone asserted, Kosen growling an agreement.

The confirmation only made his bad feeling grow worse. The portal in front of him was clearly demonic in nature; Yone could feel the waves of power radiating off it as if the azakana that had no doubt created it was standing before him. Wherever you were now, if you had gone through that portal, then your life would clearly be in very immediate danger.

Without a second thought, Yone dashed through the portal… only to move through it instead, just as Kosen had. Trying again, Yone was met with the same result, his failure sparking an unfamiliar wave of panic within him.

Kosen seemed equally as dismayed by his failure, which made Yone wonder just how you had gone through without Kosen. You weren’t risk-averse, but he had also known you not to be foolish. He respected your skill, but you would have to have known that this was a clear danger to you, so then why…?

Regret festered in his mind. Yone had long shied away from regrets; he was no longer who he had been back when he was alive, what right did he have to carry any regrets? Monsters couldn’t regret.

But right now, Yone knew he would regret it for the rest of his existence if he couldn’t get to you right now.

Dashing to the portal once more, Yone entered it this time, unaware of his mask slipping off his face at long last and falling to the ground.

The shadow liked to talk while you fought.

“So naïve,” it chided you, as if you were a misbehaving child. “Untainted by suspicion. Unseeing of coincidences.”

“Speak plainly!” you insisted, dodging a slash from one of its many shadowed arms. You had a feeling that it wasn’t using anywhere near all of its strength, intent on gathering as much of your tortured emotions together as possible before it devoured you, which was something you could work with for now if you ever wanted to see Kosen again.

The azakana was only too happy to indulge your request for information.

“Sweet child of sorrow, I have seen you reach for salvation,” he alliterated, which only served to annoy you more as you severed another arm at the wrist before it could reach you. “I could not allow my long-simmered meal to become tainted with gaiety, so it has become time to bring you back to me.”

“So you promised some rapist a mindless corpse to fuck?” you seethed. Killing Shusho was likely the only good thing this monster would ever do.

“He was quite useful,” the azakana replied, seeming pleased by its own work. “But it took so much more to bring you here to me. Here, where we can finally be together again.”

You grew tired of the demon not just saying what it meant, resolving not to give it what it wanted and instead focusing on hacking as many arms apart as you could, their puppet master still widely grinning down at you with sharp teeth.

“It is no matter to bend weaker brethren to my will,” it bragged, your thoughts immediately turning to the only azakana you had any contact with recently.

“Then you… made it flee?” you asked, needing to know.

“And I made it die,” it responded gleefully, which only pushed your confidence in yourself lower; if this azakana had the power to command others to die, then it was the strongest opponent you had ever faced.

Cruel laughter accompanied your realizations; it was in their nature to sense emotions, so your downswing had been detected immediately. You could not hide anything from the source of your oldest pain, and you both knew it. You had been stupid to believe that you were free, to dismiss your sole survivor status as a coincidence after so many years of being free was exactly what had brought you here.

You didn’t want to die, especially not here in this lonely black world. Shusho’s death had been quick, ultimately meaningless to the shadow that was the sky, but yours has meaning to it. Yours was a prize that it had waited so many years for and you knew there was little chance that the consumption of your soul would be just as drawn out.

You hoped Kosen would be okay without you, back there in the world you had shared with him for so many years. And more than anything else, you wish you had seen this coming.

The azakana reached out to you with so many arms, just like the twisted ones on the trees surrounding you, and this time, you didn’t think you could repel them all.

It was so silent that you heard the shout of your name loud and clear in time with the arms that dotted the sky all being slashed in half at once, the azakana’s resulting shriek telling you that it had actually felt some level of pain from the attack.

The figure that appeared next to you was so familiar in all ways, barring the two red eyes that met yours, wide with desperation.

“Yone…?”

You couldn’t believe it was him, that he was really here. You were so sure that you would die without seeing him again, whether you made it out of here or not.

While you stood in stunned silence, Yone quickly sheathed one sword, reaching out to take hold of your arm. “Are you okay?”

You were still so shocked to see him without a mask that it took you a long moment to gather yourself. He had found you. He had come back for you. The information was almost too much to accept. The tenderness in his eyes and the firmness of his touch made you immediately feel less alone.

“Is Kosen okay?’ you asked, needing to know if Shusho had done anything to your closest friend.

“He found me,” Yone explained. “He was unable to enter the portal. I’m suspecting now that it blocks unwanted azakana from interfering.”

“So he’s okay,” you said, body sagging with relief. You didn’t know what you would have done if something had happened to him.

“Why did you come here alone?” Yone asked, voice less accusing and more concerned.

“I wasn’t alone,” you scoffed. “Shusho lured me into the forest, said the Noxians were planning an ambush and then pushed me into the portal. Turns out it was all lies, Noxus isn’t invading at all. He even paid that kid off to… separate us.”

You felt too uncomfortable to admit that they had been trying to scare Yone off, not wanting him to feel bad, but his face fell all the same.

“…and I played my part,” he admitted bitterly, easily understanding the situation before his expression turned deadly. “Where is he?”

“Dead,” you answered with no shame or guilt. “Trusted an azakana to keep its end of the deal and paid the price.”

“…and his end?” Yone insisted, voice tight with the foresight that he wasn’t going to like whatever the answer was.

“I’ll tell you if we live,” you replied, noticing that the demonic arms were beginning to reforge themselves around you again.

As you stared at the azakana overlooking you both with hunger, you realized you hadn’t explained everything yet, and were rapidly running out of time for the most important part.

“Yone, this is the one from my village,” you spoke gravely, mind flashing back to that scene against your will. “It lured us here using that fire demon. I think it’s been after me for a long time and I’ve just been too stupid to notice. Just… this isn’t your fight if you don’t want it to be. I need you to know that.”

You weren’t entirely sure there was even a way out of here, but you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you didn’t give him an out regardless. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I won’t leave your side again,” he replied, resolve firm as he assessed the situation.

“Okay,” you said, unable to keep the relief off of your face, much to the azakana’s displeasure.

“Sweetest sorrow, you will still end here,” it taunted you from the sky. “I think I will kill him in front of you before I claim you for mine at last.”

“Greater azakana have failed,” Yone hissed back, taking a protective stance in front of you.

You got into a fighting stance as well, unwilling to be an easy meal for the monster that had butchered your family and village. You had to believe you would live, that you could defeat the threat that was all around you. You wanted to leave here with Yone, to see Kosen again, to fight your way back to the world you wanted to return to.

The onslaught was immediate, your burgeoning hope likely souring your taste to the demon who struck out with a thousand arms at once.

He was clearly aiming for Yone, attempting to make good on his threats, but Yone wasn’t easy prey. Yone dashed forward with a sweeping slash, easily destroying dozens of shadowy hands with one swipe of his blade. There was no true wind in this place, but his graceful movements almost looked like he was dancing with the air, the azakana’s attacks ripped up as if they were in the midst of a tornado.

You did your best to cover any areas Yone couldn’t, but you still felt like you weren’t contributing anywhere near equally. Yone fought with a fury you had never seen in him, a desperation that you hoped that you had a hope of matching.

You had no idea how long you had been fighting for. Your stress seemed to warp your sense of time entirely, twisting it into being measured by the next movement you made, unable to think of anything but your survival.

Slowly, you began to feel that you were gaining the upper hand. With every limb you cut down, less and less took its place, but the small victory did not come without consequence.

You couldn’t deny your own condition was worsening, every move you made draining a little more energy from you. As you panted, Yone struck fiercely, ignoring the arms now to lash out at the azakana itself.

You were intent on doing your part, even as your muscles ached and your lungs burned with fatigue. You would not let Yone down.

The azakana had long since lost its composure, screeching out incoherently as each attempt to kill Yone fell apart at the seams.

You saw its last-ditch attempt first, veins of black slithering along the ground, twining together to create a clawed hand, each nail sharpened to a deadly point. From the size alone, you doubted it could be easily broken apart… and it was aimed straight at Yone.

“Yone!” you screamed, but your voice seemed to come out as if you were trapped in a glass box, and as you ran in the direction of the clawed hand, you discovered why.

You reeled back from the wall you couldn’t see, the contact with the now-distorted air like a shock to your system, the pain crushing until you jumped back from it. The azakana had created some sort of invisible box around you as you fought, and now you were cut off from Yone, forced to watch in horror.

You were terrified by your own helplessness, begging Yone to turn back and see what was coming, but he didn’t. Trying to break through the barrier again only brought you more excruciating pain, like you were being stabbed with a thousand needles at once, forcing you to pull back again.

“Watch,” the azakana’s voice whispered in your ear. “Watch as he dies.”

“No!” you screamed, stabbing desperately at the barrier that surrounded you, pinpricks of pain shooting up your arms, but you didn’t stop as you watched the hand slink through the dark towards where Yone confronted the azakana’s masked smile. “Yone, behind you! Yone!”

But he didn’t, locked in combat with the azakana, unaware of anything other than taking it down. The hand would wait no longer, shooting across the sky, intent on piercing through Yone, if the azakana’s continued chanting of watch him die only getting louder all around you was any indication.

Your feet spurned into action, not having even a second to spare. You were ready for the wall this time, sprinting full force at it, agony immediately catching fire along your skin.

Clenching your teeth against the pain, you pushed harder. No pain would be worse than losing Yone right now, and it was that thought that broke your head through the barrier as if you broke through the surface of the ocean.

“Yone!”

Your scream rang out through the quiet like a gunshot, Yone turning immediately, spotting the weapon the azakana had intended to end his life with. In a split second as you watched, frozen with pain, Yone moved swiftly out of the way, the demon hand unable to correct course, piercing its own mask through the hooked nose.

You felt the barrier dissolve immediately, falling to your knees as the aftershocks of pain began to ebb and then vanish completely.

It was so quiet. Looking up to the sky, you saw the azakana’s mask crumbling to pieces, the deep black demon no longer there to fill it.

You lost sight of the crumbling demon as your vision was taken up by Yone landing near you, crouching down before you, a hand resting on your cheek.

“You’re alive,” you said, still in shock.

“Because you warned me,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss you.

It was a gentle kiss, one you happily reciprocated, leaning into Yone even as your muscles screamed at you.

Pulling apart, you couldn’t help but smile. “If you still had your mask, I think it would be poking me in the eyes right about now.”

“My–” Yone looked shocked, his deep red eyes wide as he reached up to feel the face that had been hidden from him for so long. “But how…?”

“You said Kosen couldn’t come through the portal,” you said, coming to a realization that made you smile. “Didn’t you say you thought no azakana could enter?”

“I… did,” he confirmed, voice shaking, eyes trained on your face as if you were the one who was recently unmasked.

“Then you’re human, Yone,” you insisted gently, the revelation stunning him into silence. “…does that bother you?”

Yone let out a shaky breath, one that he had probably been holding in for years.

“…no,” he answered at last, leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek. “I didn’t care what I had to become as long as I could protect you.”

You reached a hand up, idly petting his hair until you noticed something forming behind him.

“Yone, I think we can go now,” you spoke, eyes on the reward for all your hard work, the shining white portal an inversion of the one you had been shoved into.

Standing up together, you made your way to the portal, your fatigue fading in the face of the way out, walking towards safety with Yone at your side.

It was dark when you both emerged from the portal, your field of vision reduced to black as you were tackled to the ground by a ferociously worried Kosen.

“I missed you too,” you laughed, Kosen rubbing his face all over you, his broken purr loud in your ears.

It took a while for Kosen to let you up as you tried to explain what had happened, the azakana especially happy to hear about what had become of Shusho, if not slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to him first.

You were petting Kosen’s head when you finally noticed Yone behind you, staring down at his hand, which grasped the mask that used to be on his face. It must be strange for him, seeing the demon whose face he had worn for so long in his hands, no longer able to hide his face below its own.

The demon was long dead, but now it would truly hold no power in this world.

Kosen noticed your new focus and nudged your hand, looking at you with knowing eyes.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you it’s not like that?” you whispered, the tiger snorting his answer, which made you smile. “Okay, maybe we kissed. Once. I think he’s staying with us, Kosen.”

Kosen huffed, his eyes clearly reading well, that was obvious. He groaned at you, jerking his head towards Yone while standing up, distancing himself from your fingers and retreating towards a thick brush.

“Wait, Kosen, I–” you tried to protest, but he was gone, and you could swear you could hear his amused huffs in the distance.

Closing your eyes tightly, you took a second to compose yourself. Were you really being the recipient of Kosen’s wingman skills that you had no idea he had even possessed?

Standing up, you made your way over to Yone, who looked up from his mask as you entered his field of vision.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your gaze going down to the mask and then back up to his eyes in silent question.

Yone sighed, allowing the mask to drop from his grip and fall back onto the grass. “I thought I had moved on from my past, let my regrets lie back in that spot where I died… I never thought I would wear regret so plainly on my face.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you said gently, resting a hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. “Nobody wants to face the worst moment in their life head on. I know I couldn’t have survived mine again without you. I still can’t believe I’m free.”

“It wouldn’t have had the chance to take you if not for me,” Yone remarked bitterly.

“I don’t care,” you declared, boldly moving to wrap your arms around Yone’s neck, his focus shifting entirely to how close you were, hands ghosting over your waist as if he was unsure whether or not to reciprocate. “I just don’t want you to leave me again, if that’s okay with you.”

“I…” Yone seemed speechless, but then you felt his hands make contact with your waist at last, his touch steady, decisive.

Yone stepped closer to you, the crunch of his old mask underfoot ringing out in the silent forest. You looked down, barely able to see the now-cracked mask before Yone’s speed overtook you and you were pressed against a tree, his mouth on yours.

“Your guard cat has left his post,” Yone mused, pulling back only slightly from the kiss, red eyes alight with an intent that made you flush with anticipation.

You knew you had wanted his body on yours for a while now, unable to pin down the exact moment your feelings had changed while he was looking at you like he wanted you just as badly.

You had never kissed anyone before, only wondered idly what you were missing, but now, you didn’t think you could go on without knowing what it would be like to give yourself to someone entirely. In your pitiful daydreams, no man could ever come close to Yone, his heart as valuable to you as his body. But right now, all of your focus was on his body, pressed closely against you, his eyes on yours seemingly awaiting a response, a confirmation, you realized.

“Please,” you whispered, wanting nothing more right now than to have his lips on yours again.

The single word seemed to do something to Yone, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a shaky exhale. You gave him the moment he clearly needed, the vulnerable expression on his face bringing a smile to your lips. Had he shown this face to anyone else? Even before he died, he seemed to think his own feelings were a burden to others. Seeing him like this now only made you want to push him further, to see more expressions that were for your eyes only. So when his eyes opened again, you pounced, knocking both of you to the ground.

Even as he fell onto his back, you noticed that Yone made sure to cushion your fall with his body, only making you more sure that this was what you had been missing for so many years.

You didn’t let your inexperience bother you, eager kisses pressed to Yone’s neck immediately rewarding you with a deep groan from his lips, his hand coming to anchor itself in your hair.

He looked so good under you, cheeks flushed and dark hair spread out under him, looking like he needed no more than you right now in this moment.

But Yone wanted more than to be stared at, pulling you back down to him, his tongue against yours catching you off guard long enough for him to move you onto your back, your belt off and discarded before you noticed what was happening.

“Back then,” he rasped, pulling your pants and underwear down and off your willing legs, his hand then kneading your thigh, your shirt riding up with your squirming to fully expose your pussy to his hungry eyes. “Back then, in that inn… I didn’t deserve you, but I wanted you.”

Your mind flashed back to that night, to Yone teasing you before his bath… you wished you had known how he really felt back then. For now, you wanted to keep seeing that look on his face aimed in your direction.

“I thought I was dreaming,” you admitted with a breathy laugh as Yone continued to draw circles idly on your thigh. “I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Your words spurred him into action, and then he was lifting your legs, easing your thighs over his shoulders as his mouth settled between your legs.

You were so sensitive that every brush of his tongue against you felt like a shock to your system. You felt Yone shiver against you as you moaned his name, redoubling his efforts in response, your nails digging into the ground as you tried to keep yourself still, not wanting to offset his tongue by even an inch, Yone finding the perfect angle that even you struggled to find sometimes in an instant.

You had thought he had as little experience as you, but he was eating you out like he had done so a thousand times, your cries of his name turning to babbled gibberish against your will. Nothing you had ever done to yourself could compare to Yone’s determined tongue, his breath coming out in hot pants against your sensitive skin.

“Yone,” you moaned as the pressure began to intensify too fast for you to properly explain, but Yone seemed to understand. “Please, it’s…”

Bracing one arm on your stomach to gently keep you from squirming, Yone barraged your clit with his tongue, again and again in that one spot that you needed so badly. You tried your best in your hazy state to keep your thighs from compressing his head, but Yone embraced it instead, his other hand held tight to one thigh, locking you in place just where he wanted you.

Tears came to your eyes as you finally, finally got there, your orgasm drawn out expertly by the man between your legs who finally pulled back with a satisfied smile, his deep red eyes meeting yours.

As you breathed through the tiny aftershocks of pleasure, one thought came clearly to the front of your mind. You wanted to see what face he would make when it was him on the receiving end. Chest heaving from exertion, you forced yourself up on shaky arms, reaching out for Yone’s belt that still bared the masks of fallen azakana.

Yone let you toss his belt to the side, neither of you paying the demonic death masks any mind. You looked up at Yone’s face as you untied his sarong, his red eyes watching you intently.

Any brief doubts you had of Yone’s interest in you were erased as he discarded his sarong himself, leaning into you as you ran a hand along his very hard cock, the outline clear against his tight pants.

Yone groaned your name in your ear as you continued to stroke him through his pants, the usually-stoic man clearly as desperate as you were.

“I don’t–” he panted, pressing heated kisses against your neck. “I want to be inside you.”

“I want that too,” you admitted heatedly. “Show me what you wanted to do to me in that inn.”

Your words got immediate response from Yone, who had you flat on your back in an instant, his mouth on yours and clothed hips canting into yours.

Reaching a hand between your bodies, you opened your shirt’s front clasps, exposing your bra to the air, Yone drawing back with a sharp inhale, looking entranced by you.

“I dreamed about you that night,” he admitted, rearing back to take his pants off with determined intent. “I woke up and you weren’t there. If you had been there next to me, I don’t think I could’ve resisted you.”

You shivered, again wishing that you had been there, wishing he had told you this then. You clearly had a lot of making up to do.

Sitting up, you took your shirt and bra off, tossing them to join Yone’s clothing in the grass.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, you prompted Yone back to a sitting position, his hands coming to your sides as you climbed into his lap, leaning in to kiss his waiting mouth. Yone responded eagerly, one hand coming to the side of your head, his tongue against yours making your face dizzy with heat.

He was so hard against you, and you were so impatient now, pulling back briefly enough to lift yourself angling Yone’s cock just right before sinking down onto him, the man letting out a low groan of surprise, eyes shutting briefly as he easily bottomed out with how wet you were.

Yone looked wrecked already as he opened his eyes again, his hand stroking your hair as he looked at you in a way you never thought you would ever see.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, his hands going back down to your waist to begin to lift you up and down on his lap, any words you were going to say in response swallowed by his lips, which sought yours every time you came back down.

Your own hands roamed his upper body, along his bandaged arms, feeling his muscles flex as he smoothly maneuvered you, so perceptive to every little noise you made.

Just as you felt your legs giving out on you, you found yourself flat on your back again, Yone above you, hiking your legs up and over his hips. You wordlessly obeyed, mesmerized by the look of him, hair mussed, staring at you with reverence.

And then he was back inside you and you forgot everything but his name, clawing at his body, his arm wrappings coming loose from your frantic fingers.

“You feel so good,” he groaned at your ear, the words going straight to your head, the feeling in your lower stomach doubling instantly.

You needed to make him cum. Finding a second wind with that resolution, you met his thrusts, pulling his hips down into yours with an intensity that seemed to break something in Yone, his body flattening you to the ground, keeping your body tight to his as he pounded into you now, pace frantic.

You couldn’t talk, couldn’t tell Yone just how close you were again as he fucked you into the ground, pressing hot kisses to your mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you came again.

Pushing through your quickly-approaching overstimulation, you rolled your hips up to meet Yone’s, leaning up to meet tongues with him for a few more intense moments before he stilled at last, clutching you to him, passionate kisses turning soft as he rolled you onto your sides, pulling back to press his forehead against yours.

Yone looked almost in disbelief as he brushed a hand against your cheek, smiling softly at you when you leaned into his hand.

“I suppose maybe I am human,” he mused, petting your hair as you cuddled up to him, his heartbeat against your ear only further affirming his words.

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me now,” you said slyly, more sure of it now than ever. “Unless you can think up a good excuse to flee into the night.”

You expected him to laugh, but he was quiet for a long moment, so quiet that you pulled back from his chest to look at his face, his mouth set in a frown that gave you pause.

“I won’t leave you again,” he promised, eyes resolute. “I won’t allow my cowardice to nearly take you from me again.”

“You didn’t know,” you replied sternly, unwilling to allow him to sink back into regret. “I think I’ve done quite enough to prove to you that I’m still alive and well.”

You accompanied your words with a clenching of your inner muscles on his half-hard cock, still inside you, the feeling sending Yone’s eyes closing shut with a groan. “…unless you need another demonstration?”

“…please,” Yone’s desperate voice relented immediately, and you were only happy to oblige.

[redr0sewrites]

Hi Rose! I hope you're still writing for Hazbin because I have a Vox request! I enjoyed your Vox fluff/comfort hcs from a while ago and it made me need more soft!Vox if that's something you're comfortable with writing. Specifically I've been going through a pretty major depressive episode lately (not in a dangerous way, just in the sense that something happened where I feel like I've failed one too many times and it's past the point where I can just pick myself up and try something new), so maybe something with Vox comforting the reader through that? I feel like he might be able to relate given that he's such a perfectionist and clearly doesn't handle rejection well, so I can see him having practical advice and guiding me through concrete solutions, but also I just want him to hug me and let me cry on his shoulder for a long time😭 Thank you!!! I appreciate your writing so much!

🥀A/n: i've had this in my inbox for a WHILE (sorryyyy <\3) so i hope ur feeling better now nonnie!!! i totally get the feeling, and i loved writing this request <33

🥀Cw: fluff, angst w comfort, negative self views, mental health themes

🥀Character(s): Vox x reader

your breath came out in hiccuping gasps as you struggled to maintain any sense of control. you sat hunched over on your bed, shaking uncontrollably as tears stream down your face. it had been another long day, and god, you just felt like a screw up. it seemed no matter how hard you tried, every day always left you with that same feeling of emptiness, just as it had been every other day for the past few months. you were so, so tired of everything, of getting no satisfaction from things you usually enjoyed, and of having to fight just to remain somewhat sane. it was truly and utterly exhausting. you lean back against the headboard, a soft thump accompanying your heads' collision with the sturdy wood. as your tears continue.

the slam of your bedroom door causes you to pause, and you flinch from the sudden illumination of your hunched figure.

"where were you? i called you twice, what-" Vox storms in, hands waving about, only for him to pause at the sight of you. his harsh tone only makes you cry harder, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"i'm- sorry, i-i turned my phone off-" you force out your words, fighting to keep yourself from bursting into tears again, but its no use. your shoulders shake in silent sobs as you cover your face with your hands, embarrassment overcoming you.

"oh, oh its okay, its fine-" Vox struggles with his words. for all of his blustering confidence in public, when it came to genuinely comforting someone, he was clueless.

"i'll be right back, i promise!" he practically shouts, racing out of the door. in the few seconds he's gone, you can't help but spiral deeper. why couldn't you just try harder, be better than this? you're so fucking stupid, god, of course he was angry at you. you don't hear Vox when he returns, and you jump when the mattress dips and a clawed hand begins gently rubbing your back. you sniffle softly, and the only sound in the room is your heavy sobs.

"shh, i brought you some water," Vox murmurs, voice uncharacteristically low. "did someone hurt you? because i swear, if someone even laid a finger in you im going to fucking-"

"no one hurt me, Vox," you swallow hard. "m fine, really, i just- its fine."

Vox is silent for a few more moments, and even though you can't see him as your face is still buried in your hands, you can practically feel his gaze on you.

"was it.. me? did i do something?"

this startles you, and you raise your head to look at him.

"w-what? no, of course not, 'm just- i had a long day, is all. i just feel so... stuck."

you blink at his screen, tears settling on your lashes. he stares back, studying you with a concerned gaze. he doesn't offer any words of encouragement, you know that's not his strong suit anyway. instead, he gently takes both of your hands in his, handing you the glass of water and slowly guiding it to your mouth. he watches as you take a sip before placing it on your night stand, before opening his arms and motioning for you to come closer. you happily oblige, melting into his side and wrapping your arms around his waist. he leans back against the headboard and you stay like that for a while, softly crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back and holds you steady. as your sobs begin to subside, you pull away to look at him again.

"i'm just so.. tired. tired of this, tired of feeling weak and overwhelmed. fuck, i just wish..." you trail off, melting back into his embrace again. Vox is silent for a few moments, contemplating what to say.

"i think your great, y'know that?"

"what..?"

"i think your great, wonderful, and so talented. you're the best partner i could ever ask for, and im so lucky to have you. you know that, right?"

"mhm..?" you hum questioningly, unsure of his objective.

"now, i know i'm not good at this sort of thing, and i know its tough, but i want you to know that, i'm, i'm here, y'know? and if you're ever, like, having a moment like this, you don't need to hide. i'm here, and i understand." Vox waves his hands as he talks, and you reposition to lean against his chest.

"i know, and its okay. 'm lucky to have you too," you mumble, and he chuckles lowly.

"is that so? you're going to give me a complex if you keep this up, baby."

"good. 'cause your the best."

"only for you."

you giggle at that, knowing that its true, and Vox smiles. he'd do anything for that sound, for your happiness. and, as you slowly drift off to sleep, you know that you'll be okay for that exact reason. you may not feel okay now, but you will, because he'll be right there beside you, on both good and bad days.

erm. hello hazbin hotel community. im slinking back like a toxic ex rn...... ANYWAYS !!! HOPE U ENJOYED !!!! its been a hot minute since i wrote for HH in general, esp for vox, so apologies if the characterization is ehhhh. PSLPSLSPSLSPSL SEND IN REQUESTS IVE BEEN DYING RECENTLY MY INBOX IS BONE DRY IT COULD BE FOR THE 2K EVENT OR JUST SOMETHING RANDOMMM (also especially some vox, lucifer, adam, or lute requests plspslsps)

[hey-august]

The Tide Comes and Goes | Buggy x gn!Reader

Summary: Stuck in a relationship and a life that you don't want, you're given the chance to get out. WC: ~1k Warnings: pretty much SFW, just a hint of spice, buggy x GN!reader, cheating / infidelity - reader and their partner cheat on each other, profanity, angst, no happy ending A/N: I had this ready for Angst August but forgot to post it oops. I have one more that I want to write, plus an optional comfort ending that will fit into any of the Angst August stories I wrote.

“You could come with me, you know. All you have to do is ask,” Buggy teased. Every visit from the pirate ended with the same offer. A solution to your loveless marriage.

You had hoped to fill the void other ways. Extravagant shopping with the money your partner sent home, volunteering with the fake righteous busybodies in town, pouring bottle after bottle into the emptiness, becoming a temporary port for sailors who needed to wet their dicks. Some of it was fun, but the ache was always there when the morning sun hit your eyes.

The only relief you found was through a clown, of all people. Through his stories and jokes, his sleight of hands, and the bawdy atmosphere he and his crew brought to town.

Buggy was fun. Listening to his adventures, watching him embody the spirit of the story - it was enthralling. When his voice dropped, as soft as the incoming tide, you’d lean in closer. When he slapped the table and shouted with all the air in his lungs, you’d jump in excitement.

Sometimes when only the moon and you were awake, when you laid in a bed too big for one person, you replayed his tales in your mind and allowed yourself to imagine that you were in them too.

Over time, you shared stories with Buggy. About jobs deemed more important than feelings. A familiar stranger whose visits you gave up tracking because they were so infrequent. Of rare calls with laughter in the background and distraction in your partner’s voice. You told him about a life on pause indefinitely.

But when Buggy visited, it felt like the pause was lifted. Like that time was for you. So you took it. You took the freedom he sailed on. You took his taste, his lips pressed against yours. You took his requests for assurance and promised it was okay. That you wanted this. You wanted him.

It felt different, at least to you. Every other time you brought someone to bed, there were no feelings attached. Your heart pounded in your chest and between your legs, drumming away any negative feelings for the moment. With Buggy, the ache only ever dulled. It stayed behind to whisper something different. That you shouldn’t be alone anymore.

You did anything and everything to quiet the voice entirely. Every time you straddled the visiting pirate and his waves, every time you were caged beneath his sweaty body, every time he pressed you into a mattress that didn’t belong to him, you ignored the whispers. You waited until they went silent. Even when you curled into the snoring figure, sharing sheets until the tide came, the inner-voice stopped talking because you stopped listening.

One morning, you woke up after Buggy. He was quiet and gently stroking your arm. Shifting slightly, you looked up at the captain. His facepaint was smudged and faded, no doubt smeared into the pillow he slept on. Your pillow. His hair was loose and a little dirty at the roots from his exertions the night before. Stubble clung to his jaw and neck. It was longer than usual and you liked it.

Buggy looked down and returned the goofy grin that you were wearing. He felt so close. He was within reach.

But his ship would be leaving soon. And he would make that empty offer that you could go with him, even though you would never ask. It was routine. A part of the play.

“You should come with me.”

Wait, that was wrong. That’s not what Buggy was supposed to say. The smile was gone from his face, but the softness wasn’t.

“I want you to co-”

“Stop. Don’t say it,” you interrupted, pushing back from him. You sat up too quickly, bringing sparks of light into your vision. The pounding of your heart was in your ears, drowning any rational thoughts.

This was not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to be the one to ask. But you never would, because this was your life. This empty fucking house and empty fucking bed were yours. All this loneliness and sadness is what you knew. It hurt, but it was familiar. It was comfortable.

“I’m not going with you, Buggy. I won’t, so don’t ask.”

“Seriously? Haven’t you thought about it? Don’t you want to leave this shit behind?” Buggy asked, torn between wanting to understand and wanting to convince you. He gestured around, his movements hard and rough.

“Stop! You don’t know what I want. Do you even understand what you’re asking me to do? Give up my life, abandon everything, and join a circus?” You laughed loudly. It was ridiculous. It was stupid. It wasn’t for you.

“Fuck, just listen to me f-”

“Stop begging,” you spat, “it’s pathetic.”

Buggy’s jaw tightened. “Fuck you.”

Pushing off the blankets, he got out of the bed and started pulling on the clothes he left on the floor.

You stared at the bottom of the bed, listening to the rustle of clothes while Buggy got dressed. “Why did you ask? Why did you have to do that?”

“Because I wanted to.”

You picked up on the past tense. Wanted. Your chest was burning. It was too full.

“Aren’t you tired of being left behind?” Buggy continued with a sneer that pierced your chest and allowed your toxic insides to drip out.

“Wow…don’t you get it? You were always just entertainment for me, Buggy the Clown. Like I’d want to join you or your fucking freaks.”

Buggy turned to face you so quickly that you couldn’t help but look at him. And the anger on his face. He stared at you, the ocean in his eyes dark and murky. His fingers twitched. Then, without another word, he left.

You listened to his heavy stride, until the front door jingled and slammed shut. Hard.

And you were alone once more. Just like it’s supposed to be.

[fatehbaz]

"Industry" as a frame of meaning is [...] relevant from the beginning of [modern-era labor advocacy and the general practice of intentionally "taking it easy" or "slowing down" while at work in order to advocate for and take care of oneself] [...], a form of "working badly" [...]. This close link is understandable given the absolute focus on efficiency that marks management thinking - Taylorism [Frederick Taylor's time studies and his support for using stopwatches to micro-manage in the workplace], the Gilbreths' time and motion studies [...]. [W]e can feel that trace of disgust, a certain sneering affect [...]. The sneer gathers around the word "motionless," [...]. The promise of the “upstanding citizen” is posed against the figure of the cripple, etymologically bound to the one who creeps, who stays low, to the one who is not proud and erect and in public view. In this way, that figure - along with the hobbled, the mute, the blind, the mad, the deaf, the chronic, and, of course, the paralyzed - becomes the exemplary negative definition. [...] [T]he only culturally sanctioned options are to be hidden from public life or recuperated [...]. That [...] fantasy of [a] return to previous levels of mobility that aligns easily with ableist conceptions of normal function and health [...] is also grounded in the specific idea of a return to ["productivity"] [...].

We can find this dynamic in especially dramatic form in the influential work of early twentieth-century “scientific management” theorists Frank and Lillian Gilbreth, known both for their time and motion studies of labor processes [...]. [T]he Gilbreths are relentlessly devoted to the reduction of inefficiency in labor to save energy, reduce unnecessary fatigue, and, above all, neutralize the fundamental “waste” of effort and time hidden within every human movement, particularly when at work. According to Frank and Lillian, “there is no waste of any kind in the world that equals the waste from needless, ill-directed, and ineffective motions, and their resulting unnecessary fatigue.” The battle against this “waste” gets posed as a civilizational battle stretching back across human history, only now conquerable with modern means, yet theirs is also a project with explicitly nationalist overtones that can be strategically couched to suit a war economy and a desire for American imperial hegemony.

---

The solution they propose is a total analytical dissection of labor processes, breaking single tasks into discrete parts to detect the little gaps in time that could be closed. Such minute lags and “micromotions” will necessarily get missed without the tools the Gilbreths turn to, like moving picture cameras - turned to face workers with chronometers in front of the lens and reticular grids on the wall behind for scale - and a “chronocyclegraph,” which allowed them to zoom in on a single gesture to see its tiny deviations and wasted movements frame by frame. In their methodology, delays and breakdowns take a form almost directly counter to simple malingering or the kind of willful self-stasis that Spargo denounced. Rather, what causes the inefficiency that the Gilbreths target is too much movement, an excess of animacy and motions that need not be done to complete a task, resulting in unnecessary fatigue and wasted opportunities for profit.

Yet at the heart of this, there is one figure seen to most embody this “wasted” energy and time in full - not in a specific action, badly choreographed task, or laziness, but in their entire being. This is what they designated as the “cripple,” [...].

---

“What,” the Gilbreths ask, “is to be done with these millions of cripples, when their injuries have been remedied as far as possible, and when they are obliged to become again a part of the working community?” [...] The “cripple” therefore emblematizes the waste of America’s “human resources” for the Gilbreths. It manifests a physical limit - the body that is conventionally seen to be unable to do productive work - but also a political one that they cannot even fathom, or at least allow publicly: the idea that anyone might challenge either the supposed utility of this frenzy of streamlined work or the very category of what constitutes “waste” itself. For the Gilbreths, the “elimination of waste” is not merely a project of capital. It is a civilization-scale undertaking that benefits all involved in the process: “All workers are sharing in the savings made possible by the elimination of waste.” [...]

It is not mere surveillance, increased policing, or something that openly oppresses and invites a revolt. Instead, it is a mode of management and control that seeks to saturate every step of the process, all the while insisting that what’s good for profit is good for those whose stolen time generates that profit.

---

All text above by: Evan Calder Williams. "On Paralysis, Part 3". e-flux Journal Issue #147. September 2024. Published online at: e-flux dot com slash journal/147/624989/on-paralysis-part-3/. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Text within brackets added by me for clarity/context. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism.]

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 7

ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES unconventional weapon | magic with a cost / Hoodie Weather

Yuu felt like screaming, but they didn't want to waste their breath.

The inky black monsters that were overrunning the island were relentless. They slid along the rocky terrain with startling speed, resembling more vicious ocean waves than the malicious creeping spirits that possessed them.

With this many, it was difficult to tell them each apart. That made it twice as difficult to dodge their attacks, and strike back at them.

Yuu had never felt more useless or pathetic in this one fight, which was impressive, because this basically happened every fight. Still, there was absolutely no way to fight the monsters through any non-magical means.

A pang of longing went through them. They wished their friends were around. At least it wouldn't have been so bad, if they were all suffering together.

But they were gone. Their friend group had been together when the monsters had struck, and, all of them being lower-level mages, had been unable to effectively counter the sheer number of blot monsters.

Now, Yuu just had Grim, and for once, he wasn't fighting them on who was the real dorm head of Ramshackle.

Speaking of Grim, Yuu was clutching him as they ran to higher ground. They'd tried the roof of Ramshackle, but when it threatened to collapse under the relentless attacks of the monsters, they fled.

Grim was beating back the monsters that got too close as Yuu scrambled up a tall tree. They frantically pulled their phone out of their pocket, hiding themselves in their hoodie to try and heat up a bit.

The air was chilly, and it suited Yuu's resentful mood. As they opened up the groupchat to get an update, they saw everyone's preparations.

Because of the warning that their group had been able to provide, the other dorms had been able to get prepared. A number of them had promised help, but none had arrived before most of their group had been struck down.

Yuu had to admit, they were dealing with a bit of a complex here at Night Raven. It was hard to be so lackluster all the time, and they often felt like they got overlooked whenever something dangerous was happening.

At the same time, it was hard to ask for help. Everyone always gave them a hard time over it, chuckling patronizingly and reminding them, for all their bluster, they were just a "normal human".

Yuu felt like they were being set up to fail, but by who?

"Hey," said Grim, tugging on their sleeve. "Look."

Yuu followed his outstretched paw to see the inky blot monsters down below. To their surprise, they saw the blot monsters struggling against the tree's bark, looking like they were trying to climb up only to slide down.

"Huh," huffed Yuu "The angle's too sharp for them."

The two of them smiled at each other and starting laughing, feeling they'd finally gotten their first big break of the night.

Which is, of course, when something went wrong.

The blot monsters hadn't been able to climb very well, but they had knocked themselves hard enough into the trunk that it had caused the thin branch Grim was on to fail.

"Grim!" Yuu dove as fast as they could to grab him, and while they were able to snatch him out of the air, they also managed to punch his wand out of his grip.

It fell into the writhing mass of ink below, and quickly fell out of Yuu's vision.

The blot monsters were too smart for Yuu, because, upon recognizing their newly-found success, rammed themselves into the tree again.

Yuu grabbed onto the tree, trying to find their balance in the slippery bark.

"What are we gonna do?" yowled Grim.

Yuu knew one thing they could do.

When they'd presented the idea to Malleus, he'd immediately been hostile.

"No, Yuu," he said. "That is not a solution. Your idea is going to get you, as well as a number of others, killed."

"Well, what are your suggestions!?" Yuu had exclaimed. "You're so negative- any idea of mine, you attack!"

"Call me," he'd replied, taking their hands into his, emerald eyes boring into theirs. "No matter what. I'll always hear you."

But Yuu had called and called, and had made a fool out of themselves as their friends fell, one by one, while Malleus was nowhere to be seen.

Yuu didn't know what had really happened to their friends. They didn't know if they were even still recoverable at this point. But Yuu knew that they'd sacrificed themselves for Yuu, and now it was time to make their own sacrifice.

Without letting themselves think about it for another moment, Yuu shrugged off their backpack and scrambled for the little package at the bottom.

They ripped it open and popped it in their mouth, the inky flavor exploding in their mouth, Yuu struggled not to spit it out.

"Yuu!" exclaimed Grim, and they realized they didn't even know if overblotting would work on a magicless human.

They looked up, and as the drops of black ink overtook their vision, they thought they saw a figure standing in the distance, a few paces behind the last blot monsters.

The last thing they saw was Malleus, mouthing "Yuu," before it all went black.

[starwarsmum]

Maribat Christmas Bingo!

I did not have the energy for multiple fics for the different prompts, so welcome to my monster fic that has all 25 ❤️ enjoy!

Marinette was exhausted as she zipped her way through the crowded streets of Paris. There had been twelve akumas in the past six days, and she was pretty sure it wasn't going to stop. Between Neigester, - the akuma that turned people into frozen statues, perfectly sculpted in ice - Jingle Bull, - an akuma that spawned because he accidentally sent a shelf of snow globes crashing to the floor in a busy store - and ones she couldn't even remember, Marinette was completely wiped out.

After the first two days of nonstop Akumas, she had called the Justice League and begged for help. Wonder Woman had been sympathetic, promising that as soon as their non-powered cohort were available they would be sent to Paris to assist. 

But it had been four days and things were starting to feel like they were heading straight to a breaking point. And now, akuma number 12 was a freaking monstrosity of tinsel and twinkling lights. It called itself Christmas Choke and was rather gruesomely hanging people up by the throat in Christmas lights.

“Hey Bug, looks like we've got a serious case of Christmas grump over here,” Chat said, bouncing over to her. He looked every bit as exhausted as she did, his ears and tail drooping. “Don't suppose we have an update on any assistance from the JL yet?”

“Nothing,” she sighed in reply, staring at the Akuma as if she could end it just by willing it enough. When the solution didn't miraculously happen by itself, she sighed again and launched herself forward to engage with the akuma. 

After ten minutes of no progress, she fell back to where Chat was trying to free civilians and almost face planted when a shadow near to him stepped forward. She managed to muffle the shriek that wanted to leave her mouth but it meant that she almost but her tongue in half.

“Sorry we're late,” the man said, a cowl covering most of his features. “Wonder Woman asked us to come and assist you with your Akuma problem. I'm Batman.”

“Wait, like Gotham’s Batman?” Chat said, perking up a little. “Dude, that's so cool! Did you bring Robin with you? Ooh, or Nightwing,” he added dreamily, eyes unfocusing as he clearly daydreamed about the original boy wonder. 

“Tt, you are supposed to be a hero defending a city, will you focus on the problem at hand?” Another shadow said, and Marinette had to school her expression to avoid giving away her disgust at the guy’s outfit. This, with the red, green, and yellow, had to be Robin. He had a sword attached to his hip and a domino mask that did nothing to hide his scowl. 

“Listen, Hawkmoth preys on negative emotion,” she tried to explain, shooting Chat a look that said ‘shut the hell up’. “Chat's way of handling his feelings is by being a giant goofball. It's not super healthy but it's also working so we're not going to try to change it now. It's a pleasure to meet you both, but we should work on trying to stop Christmas Choke before it gets any worse.”

The dynamic duo agreed and pretty soon they were assisting with the aftercare of a traumatised shopper. Marinette rubbed the man's back consolingly, hoping to finish soon so she could go back home - after speaking with Batman and Robin about next steps.

“Everyone was just so loud, and then that godforsaken song - that has been playing since September - came on and I just lost it,” the man sobbed, clinging to his shopping bags. “My kid just changed his mind about what he wanted for Christmas and my husband insisted we had to get it right, because it's his first Christmas with us and not in foster care! And if it's not wrapped and under the tree tonight, I'm a dead man.”

“I understand, and you're not the first person to be taken advantage of by Farfalla,” Marinette said in a soothing voice. “But hey, take a deep breath and Chat over here is going to take you straight back to your place in line. He's going to stay with you until you get what you need and then he'll see you home. Right, Kitty?”

“Absolutely! Hey, did you hear what the snowman ordered at the Mexican restaurant?” Chat asked the man as they walked over to the queue of people reforming around them. 

“Okay, so we obviously need to head somewhere quieter to have a chat, care to join me on top of Notre Dame?” Marinette said wearily, pulling her yo-yo back out. She waited for them to agree before giving them a quick grin and ‘race ya!’ before zipping away.

_ _ _

The explanation and discussion for next steps took longer than Marinette would have liked. Batman had had plenty of questions - all very well thought out, and he was obviously taking it seriously - and Robin had been staring at her the entire time without saying a word. It made her twitchy and she was relieved when she was finally swinging back home.

She landed on the balcony and crept back into her room, cursing her lack of time. She was still stitching her name into the piece that Alya had commissioned from her and she needed to get it to her by that evening. Not to mention-

“The cookies!” Marinette screeched, throwing herself down the stairs to the apartment kitchen and almost sobbing when she saw the lumps of charcoal sitting on the oven trays. Two full trays of cookies, useless, and she still had to decorate and wrap them before nighttime.

Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work on a new batch. She had several problems, likely caused by her tiredness and the distraction of still having half a dozen things to do, and she wasn't sure how she was going to explain how her apron had gotten caught up in the mixing bowl.

While the cookies were baking, she raced back upstairs to get the Alya's commission and stitched the initials whilst keeping an eye on the cookies. She then whipped up the royal icing while the cookies cooled and prepared the piping bag. And after all of that, she found time to search for information on Batman and his band of vigilantes.

_ _ _

By early evening, Marinette finally felt like she was on top of things again. Nothing quite like the rush of a deadline to make her buckle down and get things done. Checking the time, she cursed again and grabbed up a bag to put everything into before racing to meet her friends for their Christmas eve plans.

Spotting her usual group, Marinette raced over to them and apologised for her tardiness. That was met with fairly goodnatured ribbing and she blushed even as she scowled at them all. Adrien smiled over at her and she gave a tentative one back. It had been about half a year since they had ended their relationship and it was finally starting to feel like they could be friends again.

Cerise was holding onto his arm and Marinette pushed down a wave of jealousy that she had no right to anymore. Cerise had been one of the reasons for their breakup, Adrien claiming that he had a lot in common with the blonde and that he felt like Marinette didn't have enough time for their relationship. Even though he wasn't wrong, it still ached that her superheroine work had caused another break up.

Once she had distributed her own gifts and any commissions, everyone headed for Phillipe’s skating rink. It was fairly busy, people bumping into each other and small children buzzing past everyone, fast enough that people were fighting to stay upright when they skated by.

Being shorter than most of her friends, Marinette quickly found herself separated from the group and battling to get through the crowds with her skates on. Even with the ice, and general chill of December, the heat of numerous bodies made her feel a little like she was suffocating. 

She finally burst through a group of people and slipped along the ice precariously. Her fall was arrested by a tall boy, wearing an entire outfit in black with dark hair. She froze, looking up at him with wide eyes and tried to stutter out an apology.

“I- you- that's- sorry,” she blurted at last, steadying her feet under her. The boy had his hands on her elbows, keeping her surprisingly steady as she tried not to blush too much. 

“It's fine,” he muttered, a frown marring his otherwise gorgeous features. Not that the scowl made him unattractive but she had a strong urge to see a smile on his face instead. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, just madly clumsy,” she said with a pained smile. “It's, um, busy, and my friends got lost in the crowd. Or, I guess, they lost me in the crowd. But lucky me, you stopped me from wiping out on the ice, so thank you.”

The boy gave a slight smirk at her rambling and, oh no he was cute when he smirked. He didn't let go of her elbows and she felt the heat across her face flood her neck and chest too. She realised that she had been staring at his mouth for far too long and snapped her eyes to his and- oh, they were a vibrant green that sent butterflies skittering around her stomach.

Before she could say anything else a tiny comet- uh, small child rammed into the boys legs with a thump. The little girl also had dark hair and green eyes, though she had a different shape to her face. The girl was chattering at a mile a minute making it hard for Marinette to work out everything she was saying, but she gathered it was about hot chocolate from the words ‘whipped cream’, ‘marshmallows’ and ‘mug’. 

“Mar’i, you shouldn't run off like that!” A man shouted, skating up to the three of them. He was carrying a mug with a generous topping of cream and chocolate dusting. “Thanks for catching her, Dames. Oh, hi!”

“Hello,” Marinette squeaked back, glad that she had her feet under her when the boy let go of her. “I'm Marinette.”

“Nice to meet you! I'm Dick, that's my brother Damian and this little terror is my daughter Mar'i,” the man said cheerfully. Marinette mouthed the name ‘Damian’, before flushing because, God, that was embarrassing. 

“I'll let you get back to your family time,” she said at last, glancing up at Damian. Her heart jumped when she found him studying her, his eyes deep and pensive. She was ready to turn around and find her friends when someone crashed into Damian from behind. She put her hands out to steady him, and she could tell she had surprised him when she succeeded.

“Demon Spawn, better pucker up,” a man that was drenched in chaotic magic crowed. He had a white streak in his hair and he was massive. He was also holding a plant with tiny white bulbs and delicate leaves. Dick exclaimed something that sounded like an admonishment but Marinette couldn't hear it properly over the rushing in her ears.

Her heart completely stopped when Damian brushed a kiss to her cheek before he pulled back quickly. His cheeks were dusted lightly with red but it was barely noticeable next to her own flaming face.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Todd - the idiot with the mistletoe - is unbearable when you don't play along with his idiocy. I have been asked to avoid causing arguments whilst in Paris so…”

“It's fine,” she blurted, pressing her cold fingers to her cheeks in an attempt to cool them. “I just wasn't expecting someone as hot as you to do that. I'm sorry he made you kiss me, I'm sure you have better options-”

“Tt, I have no complaints about his choice,” Damian said with a smirk. Crumbs, if he kept smirking at her she was going to lose her sleep deprived mind and give him a real kiss. Actually, that didn't seem like an awful idea…Damian was flirting with her, right? She couldn't be reading it wrong, because his brother was making kissy faces and ‘ooh’ing.

“Well, in the interest of avoiding any potential fights, you should probably do the tradition properly,” she said. Before she could overthink it and talk herself out of it, she grabbed his scarf and pulled him down for a kiss. It was soft and sweet, a brief touch of lips and nothing more, but she still blushes brightly before letting go and stuttering a goodbye.

_ _ _

By the time she found her friends again, they were standing around a pretty display, lights spelling Happy Holidays with a star of David, Christmas tree, and seven candles depicted. People were mostly paired up in their couples, Nino with an arm around Alya's shoulders, Rose and Juleka holding hands, Myléne sitting in Ivan's lap on a nearby bench…and Cerise was hugging Adrien, him smiling down at her. 

Marinette shoved the ache away immediately, skating over to Alix, Max and Nathaniel. They greeted her enthusiastically and she let them take her mind off of boys for a few minutes. They were talking about the fireworks that were due to start any minute, arguing over whether there would be any more Akumas before Christmas day.

When the fireworks began, Marinette ruthlessly cut off any thoughts about missing watching them with Adrien. It didn't matter that last year she had had someone to hold her close - things had gotten so much harder in the past year, Farfalla had been ruthless and being the guardian had meant that she had to put aside a lot of her own projects and hopes.

When the display ended she deliberately avoided looking towards Adrien, turning blindly towards the exit. It had been nice to flirt with Damian, it had made her feel wanted. But it wasn't as if she would ever see him again, so she tried not to let herself fantasize too much.

_ _ _

Whilst they'd been skating it had started snowing. Marinette walked along the street, rubbing her hands together and wishing she had brought along her mittens. She walked past people having snowball fights, giggling as they walked by, and even one couple who were just finishing a pair of snow angels. 

She was halfway home when she crashed into someone again. Apologising profusely, she glanced up at them only to freeze again. Looking down at her was Damian, his scowl melting away as he realised it was her.

“I would say we should stop running into each other like this, but I cannot say that I mind it,” he said, brushing some hair out of her face. “I'm glad I encountered you again, I was worried you had vanished into thin air.”

“You wanted to see me again?” Her voice came out in a squeak, eyes wide. He chuckled and nodded, keeping his eyes on hers. Her heart melted a little and she leaned into his warmth. “I wanted to see you again too.”

“May I walk you to your destination?” He asked, offering his arm for her to take. She did, without hesitation, and felt his heat immediately leech into her frozen fingertips. “I also wished to thank you for silencing my brothers. It is not common for them to be rendered speechless, and it was sufficient to silence them for the duration of the fireworks.”

“Hey, anytime you want someone to kiss you, I'll happily be your girl,” she joked, flushing when he raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, obviously you don't have to- I just meant that I enjoyed- I really need to work on keeping my mouth shut.”

“I don't know, I rather like you when you are flustered,” he said slyly, pressing a kiss to the tips of her fingers. 

“That's a pretty easy win, I am very easily flustered,” she grumbled, though a smile worked its way over her face when a laugh rumbled out of him. They were quickly approaching the bakery now, and Marinette was trying to think of ways to prolong their walk. 

“I don't suppose you would be willing to give me your number,” he said as she slowed to a stop outside the bakery. Beaming, she stuttered out her contact details and he input them to his own phone swiftly. “I must go back to my family now, but I hope I will see you again soon.”

Joy bubbled up in her chest as she waved goodbye which only intensified when her phone buzzed a few moments later with a message from an unknown number.

_ _ _

It was much later at night that Marinette slipped out of her room and into the silent night. She made a straight line to the Eiffel Tower, hoping nobody would spot her. She didn't need to be stopped for a conversation when she needed to meet with the Bats. 

She arrived after them and waved as she landed next to Robin. This was supposed to be a chance for her to meet the rest of the team of vigilantes and find out how they could work together to stop Farfalla. There appeared to be light hearted bickering between the tallest vigilante who was wearing a red helmet and Robin.

“Come on, it's just a bit of holiday fun,” Red Hood said, brandishing a piece of mistletoe. He held it over Robin's head, angling it towards Marinette and she froze. What were the chances that she would be caught under mistletoe twice in one day?

“It is not just a bit of holiday fun,” Robin hissed, scowling at him with blood darkening his cheeks. “It was amusing the first time, don't test your luck.”

“I'm going to have to ask you both to stop arguing or leave Paris,” Marinette said bluntly. “The night is a common time for Farfalla to strike and I don't want to have to fight one of you.”

“Man, I thought kissing the cute girl earlier would've loosened you up,” Hood said grumpily. “I know she ran off but that wasn't my fault.”

“Tt, I have already secured a connection with her,” Robin said tightly, glaring at Red Hood. “I ran into her whilst walking and procured her contact details before returning, only to be subjected to that monstrosity of a drink you call eggnog.”

Marinette froze, analysing the group in front of her. Robin, standing next to her, had the same dark hair and skin as Damian. Red Hood was the same height as Todd and was brandishing mistletoe. Nightwing was wearing a cheery expression, a brightness that reminded her of Damian’s brother, Dick.

“Oh no,” she whispered, cupping a hand over her mouth. She was too tired for this. She was supposed to be figuring out Farfalla’s secret identity, not the Batfamily’s. “Please tell me you aren't talking about an encounter with a girl called Marinette.”

Silence spread over the rooftop and she groaned, squatting down and gripping her hair tightly with both hands. Apparently the chances of running into a man brandishing mistletoe twice in one day greatly increased when they were the same man.

“Do you not know the importance of not sharing personal information?” She hissed, glaring up at Red Hood. She couldn't see his face but she hoped that he was feeling contrite. “I have gone three years without finding out my partner's identity, nor revealing my own to him. And after not even ten minutes of your company this evening I have discovered yours, Robin's and Nightwing’s.

“Granted, there is magic at work concealing Chat's and my identities but I did not want to know who you were!” She stood and muttered to herself, trying to think of ways they could work around this. 

“I take it you know Marinette,” Nightwing said weakly, glancing at Robin apologetically.

“Well enough to recognise your story,” she conceded. She pointed a finger at Red Hood and glared again. “You are most definitely on my naughty list, Monsieur. You shall be lucky if I don't smack you around your stupid, atrocious helmet.”

“We're sorry,” Red Hood said at last, glancing towards Robin when he snorted. “Fine, I'm sorry. Clearly I got careless and I'm sorry I blew our cover.”

“It is what it is,” she said heavily, devastated by the realisation that she wouldn't be able to go on a date with Damian now. Not only would she potentially blow her cover but it would never work if he had to go back to Gotham. “I just have to ask that you leave Marinette alone. Text her to tell her you went home or something, but as she doesn't know too much about you yet there's a good chance of you not making things worse.”

“Wouldn't she just Google us?” Nightwing said curiously and Marinette nearly screamed. 

“It is difficult to search for someone with such a common first name and no surname,” she said through gritted teeth. “She likely assumed Robin was from Paris and she would have had the chance to pursue a relationship, but evidently that was wrong. If you are vague enough in your message she will likely accept it and move on.”

The rest of the meeting was awkward and Marinette left after giving them as much information as she could about Farfalla. It wasn't much but they gave her a few things to think about regarding Hawkmoth and any potential connection to Farfalla.

_ _ _

On Christmas morning, Marinette bounded down from her room to sit with her parents for a quick breakfast followed by present opening. She waited excitedly for her parents to open their gifts, pleased at the excited shouts her Papa made when he opened the new apron she had made him and the pleased cooing her Maman made when she opened the new cheongsam she had made her.

Marinette gave her own squeal when she opened a parcel filled with various fabrics and threads. She adored how well her parents knew her and her creative pursuits. She had a few other gifts from friends, her Nonna and Grandpa Rolland, which left her feeling incredibly loved.

The day passed in relative peace, not even an akuma appearing. The threat was enough to keep Marinette on her toes but she was relieved when the day ended and she finally got a full night's sleep.

Boxing day she awoke early and joined her parents in setting up shop for the post Christmas and Hanukkah rush. She was in charge of decorating the dreidel and menorah sugar cookies, alongside ones that looked like bursting fireworks. 

When the bakery opened she was rushed off her feet, bagging baked goods and wishing everyone happy holidays. She hardly took a breather until after the lunch crowd dispersed and there were only a handful of items still ready. She knew her Papa was already baking fresh for the afternoon rush so she took some time to straighten the front area.

She didn't fully look up when the bell above the door dinged, signalling a new customer, but called out cheerfully that she would be with them momentarily. She turned to greet whoever it was properly and felt her smile freeze on her face.

“Good afternoon,” Damian said, eyes sweeping her face. He paused when he was done, as though he could tell she was unsure. But that was ridiculous, they had only really spent twenty minutes together so she gave herself a mental shake.

“I'm surprised to see you here,” she admitted, trying to remind herself that she needed to cut the budding feelings she was growing at the root. “When you didn't message again I assumed you changed your mind.”

“I have been a little preoccupied with family matters,” he said hesitantly. “But I have been thinking of you a lot.”

“I heard you're only in Paris on holiday,” she ventured, hoping it would prompt him to end things, assuming that was why he was there. “I don't want to be a fling, Damian. I can't risk getting to know you if I'm just going to end up missing you.”

“It doesn't have to end just because I go home,” he offered in a quiet voice, stepping closer to her. She stayed where she was as he approached, heart trying to beat out of her chest. His hand had just brushed her bangs from her face when the door behind him opened again, letting in a cold gust of wind.

He glanced behind him and frowned when he couldn't see anyone. Only a raging snowstorm where there had been clear skies only minutes before. Marinette frowned as well, stepping forward to close the door again.

As she did so she found that snow was piling up too fast to be natural. She felt annoyance sweep over her. Couldn't Farfalla leave people alone? It was so much worse than Hawkmoth, whoever Farfalla was she made much more violent Akumas. 

“Papa, Maman, looks like another akuma,” she called through to the kitchen, forcing the door closed and locking it. She struggled to push it until Damian joined her, pressing the door shut with both palms flat against it. 

Marinette turned around to thank him and found herself still caged between his arms. His eyes looked as stormy as outside, she could clearly see a conflict in them. She swallowed, mouth dry and made to push him out of the way gently. But instead of making him move, her hands ended up resting on his chest. He moved closer, head dipping towards her-

“Marinette, are you alright?” Her Papa burst out of the kitchen, looking concerned until he saw the pair pulling hastily apart. Amusement pulled at the man's lips and he crossed his arms. “This must be Damian; it's a pleasure to meet you young man. Marinette said that you saw her safely home on Christmas Eve.”

“Papa,” she whined, blushing as she glanced up at Damian. “An akuma? Can you make sure the kitchen is sealed? I'm pretty sure the snow is getting everywhere.”

“Yes yes, the back door is already completely snowed in. You didn't leave your skylight open, did you?”

“You don't think it's that badly snowed over, do you?” She asked, suddenly alarmed. If the skylight was covered, she wouldn't be able to push Damian out of it before she transformed. “You know what, I'm going to go and check. Damian, are you okay-”

“-to go with Marinette,” her Papa said sternly, worry clear across his features. She hesitated but Damian was agreeing, taking hold of her hand and tugging her to action. 

Leading him upstairs, Marinette tried not to enjoy the way his hand felt in hers. She could feel the callouses he had earned from his sword practice and vigilantism and she tried not to think too hard about them. 

Arriving in her attic room, she cursed when no light came through her skylight or window. She pushed at uselessly at the skylight before throwing herself onto her bed. Kwamis hidden around the room gave her sympathetic looks but didn't make themselves known.

“We shall have to sit out the akuma here, I suppose,” Damian said, staring at his phone. “I don't have any signal, I assume the storm is disrupting service. I have every faith that the Parisian heroes will restore order as quickly as possible, so what would you like to do to pass our time?”

“I wouldn't bet on things going quickly,” she muttered, having a quick internal debate over her choices. Absurdly quickly she became churlish. “I can't believe this, I would not be in this position if you had just done what you were told.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” Damian said, appearing at the end of her bed with a frown. She sighed and sat up to glare accusingly at him.

“Yes, you do. You were supposed to send me a nice message telling me that you had to go home suddenly. I was going to be very upset and heartbroken that you weren't from Paris and then try to forget you whilst knowing you were still around. Instead you showed up and got trapped in here with me which means I have to tell you that I'm Ladybug which is what I was trying to avoid!”

“...you are Ladybug?” He said after a moment, assumedly to process the verbal barrage she shot at him. She groaned and nodded, jumping slightly when the mattress dipped under his weight. He loomed over her, those beautiful green eyes pinning her in place. “I did not think you could be any more appealing, but it appears I was wrong.”

He leaned down to kiss her, pressing her into the bed with his weight. She allowed herself to enjoy it for several minutes, hands burying in his hair, before she broke away. His lips traveled along her jaw and she almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing. Almost because Tikki appeared above them, a tolerantly amused look on her face.

“I'm glad you two are having fun, but perhaps we can deal with the akuma?”

_ _ _

The fight with the akuma was relatively simple, a disgruntled employee who had blanketed the city in snow so they didn't have to deal with customers on Boxing day. Marinette cast her Miraculous Ladybug and the snow melted magically away. 

She turned to Robin, pausing before pulling him aside. The rest of the Bats looked curious but Marinette was determined to have the conversation without them.

“Listen, we have to get back so my parents don't realise we got out,” she said, her voice low. He nodded, following her away from the group. In order to allow him to change before they headed back - there was no way she was going to try and explain that to her parents - she used the horse Miraculous again to get to his hotel room.

They landed back in her room, the Miraculous energy washing out of her as she detransformed, and she collapsed onto the bed again. Damian pressed a hand to her leg, a steady reassuring pressure. 

“If we're going to try this, we're going to have to tell your family, aren't we,” she stated, not really a question but directed at him nonetheless.

“It would make it easier,” he admitted, leaning back against the wall. “But if you wish to keep it a secret, I will respect that.”

“Or we could just…go our separate ways,” she said, trying to ignore the way her gut clenched at the thought. Damian froze, face tight with some kind of strong emotion and Marinette wanted to touch him so badly she couldn't help brushing a hand against his cheek.

“That is not an appealing option for me,” he said after several seconds, leaning towards her hand. He looked down at her and she bit her lip, wanting to resume what they had been doing before but nervous about taking that step.

He took the decision out of her hands, smoothing her lip out from between her teeth with his thumb before pressing his own to them.

_ _ _

1 Year Later

Marinette twirled the skirt of her dress, gazing at the mirror she had placed next to the fireplace in Damian's room. He watched her from the bed, a smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling broadly. 

She couldn't believe how much things had changed in only a year. Farfalla had been defeated, Damian had convinced her to both join the Justice League and apply for university in Gotham (which she'd gotten into and was currently attending) and now she was getting ready to attend the Waynes’ New Year Gala.

“You look wonderful as always, Mari,” Damian said with a crooked smile. “And you will fit seamlessly into the aesthetics for the evening.”

“You always know what I'm worried about,” she said, chagrined. Moving carefully, so as not to wrinkle her skirt, she climbed up next to him on the bed and kissed him gently. He pressed back against her, fingers threading into her carefully constructed bun.

She decided she didn't mind showing up to the gala late if it meant more time spent alone with Damian.

[h3k3t]

𐌂𐌀𐌋𐌙𐌐𐌔Ꝋ

🐚𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇꜱ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɢɪꜰᴛꜱ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ 🐚𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 🐚𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: ᴘᴜʀᴇ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ! 🐚𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖘: ɴᴏ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ (ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴇʀʀᴏʀꜱ), ɴᴏɴ-ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ɴᴏ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏ/ɴ, ɴᴏ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʀ ᴇᴛʜɴɪᴄ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɴᴏ-ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴇx ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ, ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ, ᴄʟɪᴛ ꜱʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ɪɴᴀᴄᴄᴜʀᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (ɪ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴀ ʏᴜᴄᴀᴛᴇᴄ ᴍᴀʏᴀɴ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴏʀ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʀɪɢʜᴛ), ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ, ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋ!ɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴀ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱQᴜɪɴᴛ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴛᴀʟᴏᴋᴀɴɪʟ ᴡᴀʀʀɪᴏʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ.

You promised yourself to go on a spiritual journey. Abandon the gray and monotonous high walls of the city, the hustle and bustle of the main streets and probably the constant calls from your boss and your mother wondering what happened to you, letting time stand still for a month or so, let the your body stopped so you could enjoy those hours you took too long to do your every duty as best you could. Even your well-being was your duty after all, and taking some savings and renting a simple house in a delightful village on the shores of the Atlantic near Michoacan seemed like the right solution to reconnect with the beauty and peace of mother nature. You had never minded immersing yourself in unspoiled nature, letting yourself be cradled by those crumbs of the world's purity, digging up out of mere curiosity the little secrets it hid and which, at the same time, it offered to the bravest; certainly you would never have thought that in that small village stories were told of a people who protected the salty and crystalline waters that kissed the white and sandy shores of the beaches.

It was a group of elderly women who told you about it, almost as a warning, rather than a story for tourists. They had reminded you not to venture where the waters got deeper, not to disturb the sea and the creatures that lived there. The guardians were excellent sentinels in protecting that territory, but very strict with those who crossed certain borders.

You had always liked to hear and treasure the legends of local folklore, because that was how you had taken the words of those old ladies, as a legend. Perhaps some local fishermen had invented such stories to keep away the more annoying tourists, in fact some of them had no respect for both the local fauna and flora, it had to be like this. But you wouldn't have been a problem, you just wanted to take a walk on the seafront, accompanied by the moon, perhaps looking for some inspiration for your next book to write.

Your bare feet sank into the sand, still warm from the heat accumulated over an entire day, while a light sundress softly covered your body up to mid-thigh. The night wind caressed your hair and your skin, the colorful fabric of your dress fluttered, followed by your rocking sandals that you held in one hand. Absolute silence reigned around you, cradled by the sound of the waves and the palm leaves that intertwined and collided with each other. Your steps took you away from that village, until you found a wooden pier built in a modest and crude way, to which a boat with an oar was tied. With the hope that some wooden beam would not give way, causing you to fall disastrously into the icy sea water, with a careful step you reached the end of the pier, sitting on the edge and letting your feet immerse themselves in the water, providing you with a pleasant relief. It was hard to admit it, but perhaps you had managed to find your happy place in the world, a place of peace, where any possible negativity that had accompanied you to that remote Caribbean tourist territory was now only a distant memory. If your boss didn't have the habit of exploiting you so much, you could have asked permission for an immersive experience in this place, to find inspiration for the next novel faster.

Shaking your head, you left the idea where it was born. It would never have happened, you admitted disconsolately as you kicked the waves with your feet trying without success to make them change direction, just like a child would have done. Your gaze was lost in the starry sky and letting a sigh escape you made it fall towards the sea and the horizon. It was calm, flat as a sheet of glass, so clear that your face twisted in puzzlement as I spotted a small silhouette on the horizon. You originally thought it was a palm branch floating unusually on the surface, as it was backlit by a full moon. But then the shape began to advance, slowly, carefully, like a feline ready to attack, and as it got closer to the shore, you could notice what was the shape of a head, a human head floating, adorned from a tribal headdress. No, that couldn't be possible. How could a head float in such a calm sea without you noticing it? They couldn't have followed you during your walk, perhaps the villagers wanted to make another tourist of that earthly paradise the victim of a bad joke? Or maybe it was your suggestion, your usual vivid imagination? Whatever answer it was, it was obvious that it was time to go home and get out of the way, while you were in time. All you had to do was get up, turn around and walk briskly back without attracting any more unwanted attention, it was the middle of the night and it wasn't wise to stay that long alone in an unfamiliar place, however… Your body seems to disobey your orders. As if you were the victim of a spell, your feet seemed to have cemented themselves in the sea water, while your eyes could not tear themselves away from the hypnotic shape which in the meantime had almost reached the dock. You wanted to say anything, anything, but your breath stayed in your throat and your mouth remained open without uttering a syllable. There was something deeply wrong with what was happening right now, something your mind couldn't comprehend, but you knew that if you were to have any chance of waking up the next morning alive and well you absolutely had to find a way to dislodge all instant.

What appeared to be the figure of a young woman seemed to slowly show the body up to the collarbone, her face was soft adorned by a pair of thick dark eyebrows, drawn together in a frown and menacing expression, the previously incomprehensible headgear now gave the idea of being covered in feathers…no, the feathers would be wet, that material seemed waterproof, like the fins of an unknown tropical fish. But what accelerated your heartbeat the most was discovering that her skin was light blue like the waves of the sea that enveloped her and a turquoise mask covered her mouth and nose. May your common sense curse you for what you were about to deduce, but at this point it was fair to wonder if what the village elders had admonished you about was not just a stupid legend, but the reality…however absurd; Perhaps the sea really was the cradle of watchful sentinels who punished the intruders of their home.

Feeling a hand grabbing your ankle, with the intention of violently dragging you towards the water, harshly reminded you that the time for reflections was over and it was time to wake up and react. You thanked the last shred of lucidity left in your body that allowed you to hold on to a pier post with all your strength, while a terrified scream escaped from your mouth. Your determination didn't seem to make the woman give up, her grip was as strong as steel and painful as a dog's bite, her voice cursed in a language unknown to you, while you squirmed and tried to push her away, kicking her with foot still free. A menacing growl like that of a predator came out of that mask, low but firm, while a shiver probably of fear pierced your legs and back.

"Let me go! Please let me go!" you screamed, trying to drag you to the opposite side, holding on to the wooden slabs with your other hand, regardless of the splinters that sank into your fingertips.

“Ma' oksajóoltik le ba'ax je'el u páajtal a náachkunta'al teech ti' teen uts uchik” was an archaic language, unknown to your ears, but in that context it only gave a demonic aura to the woman or any damned being was that thing that wanted to drag you into the depths of the sea with it. In an attempt to land another kick, your foot struck full force on her mask, creating a slight crack. The young woman gasped and for a handful of seconds her grip on your left ankle loosened just enough to make you slip away, not before marking your skin with scratches, making you moan in pain. Without further delay you ran away from that pier, forgetting your sandals now fallen due to the hustle and bustle in the water, it didn't matter if you had to make the stone and dirt road up to your house with bare feet, you just wanted that creature to leave you in peace. As soon as you passed the last bump in the sand, you looked behind you for a moment, hoping that she had disappeared and wasn't following you…so it was. The woman had disappeared, swallowed up by the sea, as if nothing had ever happened. Maybe you were crazy…or maybe you should have heeded the admonitions of the elders.

It was sunset when you decided to go home the following day; It hadn't been an easy day, if you could call it that since you'd been lying between the sheets of your bed until after lunchtime and you'd spent the night before without sleeping a wink. Your mind was still immersed in that encounter you had that night, your skin still remembering the stinging burn from the scratch on your ankle, now intent on healing. Sleep had decided to abandon you in those long and tense night hours, and if by chance your heavy eyelids decided to close in exhaustion, they reopened at the slightest creak or rustle coming from outside your little house. The thought of finding that woman in front of your bed after having followed you overwhelmed you, filling you with a thousand questions and answers that were often more daunting than you had expected. You couldn't understand if what your eyes had seen was pure fantasy, probably anyone would have called you crazy, but that scratch, that mark that she had engraved on your skin, was the striking proof that she existed. It was flesh, bone and breath, and her frozen skin still seemed to caress your leg, leaving a suffocating lump in your throat as a shiver stopped between your thighs… It was fear, adrenaline, nothing more you kept telling yourself. You weren't sure that telling the old women of the village would have been a good idea, even if they had believed you, they probably would have said it was the right punishment for a nosy and disrespectful tourist like you; Perhaps it would have been wiser to put aside the idea of a relaxing holiday, abandon that mysterious place surrounded by unspoiled nature and paradise on earth and return to your everyday life, perhaps it was silly to think that you could find peace and relief for a moment in your existence.

The shouts of the village children, who gradually returned home from the beach, made you awaken from your restless thoughts, while your gaze turned to the clean beaches now kissed by the fiery and amber rays of the sunset, the Sun was gradually swallowed up by the sea, as well as your every little certainty that in the light no monster would be looking for you. Sighing and ready to get ready for yet another sleepless night, you approached the door of the house, however, finding something on the edge that left you speechless: Your sandals, the sandals you had lost during the night to escape the woman's grasp were right there in front of you.

One of the two must have broken in the uproar, but someone had thought of reconnecting the filaments by setting a small nugget of… jade in the middle? Was it jade? The first thing you did after catching them was look around, there was nobody there, people also seemed to have gone home, the fishermen had returned from their hard day's work and were intent on returning to their families with dinner to make. Taking a deep breath, you gathered courage and grabbing the knob of your door you opened it with a lightning click, ready to find the worst beast you could ever expect. But nothing but your unmade bed and what furnished your little house awaited you.

Standing at your doorstep, you wondered if some kind person in the village had found your sandals and brought them back to you, but you soon put that idea aside. No one had followed you that night on the beach, and above all who in such a humble though welcoming country could afford to adorn a sandal with a nugget of jade? Was it that woman? Maybe as an apology…Oh probably a trap. Thoughtfully you sat on the wooden stairs outside the entrance to your house, put on your sandals, only now noticing that the one with the jade had been placed on the sandal of your injured ankle. Your gaze returned again to the glimpse of the beach, wrapped in vegetation, partly pruned to create an exit from the village, the sun had now sunk, the sky was becoming increasingly gloomy, while from the windows of the modest houses around you appeared the flashes of the lights. You were sure that what you were about to do would be your last action alive, as well as being totally unconscious. But like Ulysses you felt the sea somehow calling to you, if it was the woman, or your curiosity had no idea, you knew that unlike the story of the Odyssey, your body was not tied to any mast of a ship , no one was going to stop you from jumping overboard at a siren's call.

Your mind had begun to cloud as soon as you passed the small avenue that led to the sea, as if to justify your foolish actions, together with your heart it was fluttering agitated, like a high school girl waiting for the arrival of her crush. Something in you wished she was hers, but what to tell her (if so) was still a mystery. Your fingers gripped the edges of the skirt of your sundress to ease the tension as your footsteps stopped. It was you, alone on that beach now accompanied by the first stars and the shy moon. You didn't know how far you were from the village, but only now did you feel as defenseless as if you were stark naked, a lamb ready to be sacrificed to some cruel deity. You swallowed praying that you would not die that night and at the same time you prayed that she…

"…You came?" your mouth spoke before your mind would let it, your tone low, too low to be sure she heard you. Her head had emerged from the water, far enough from the shore, for what emerged of her body was no more than her neck and shoulders. You didn't have the courage to repeat what you asked for, your hands gripped the edges of your sundress even more. She seemed to observe you, oblivious of that long silent space that separated you, perhaps she was working out the right move to make, as a shark or a tiger would have done. She decided to move closer to the shore, and you bit your tongue tenaciously to keep your body from retreating. As her body emerged from the water, your eyes studied what they hadn't managed to capture the previous time: on her torso there was a light armor of unknown material and of a dark color that covered her chest, while the shoulders were adorned with the same feathers/fins as the headdress and tied around the animal skull. The calves and forearms were clad in the same armour, leaving the muscular and toned shoulders and thighs uncovered, the hips encircled by a skirt partly made of armour, of those colorful fins and seaweed perhaps… But what caught your attention the most it was the conspicuous presence of jade in the woman's clothing, especially her earrings, which were large and hard to ignore.

"Look, I…" you bit your lip "I don't know if you can understand me…I just want to tell you that I didn't want to disturb your sea, I'm not a bad person" your hands let go of the skirt of the sundress and then stood up as a sign of surrender, along with your submissive gaze. The warrior scrutinized you frowning her thick dark brows, as if she wanted to tell you so many things, certainly not kind and friendly, but she decided that piercing you with her sharpest gaze sharper than the spear she brandished was enough of an answer. Her attentive eyes finally fell to your feet, noticing the sandals you were wearing, especially her pitch-colored irises seemed to sparkle as they found the jade gem nestled between the straps of the previously broken sandal. Only in that instant did you seem to grasp this gesture and sketching a shy smile you asked:

“Did you bring the sandals to my door?” you were unable to contain your curiosity. Even though the blue-skinned woman was as tall as you, her presence made you regret every single word your mouth uttered. She looked into your eyes, once again, her expression had become less tense, however she turned her head, as if to see if there were other threats on the horizon, on the shores of the beach, when her attention returned to you that hard sentry expression had again marked her soft pale blue face. She nodded, that was her only response.

Biting your lower lip, you carefully crouched down to your sandals, pointing at the jade nugget “Did you place this stone? It's gorgeous.” Your tone laced with fear of her was trying to bring out a semblance of genuine sweetness, maybe that was really a small gift of apology from her.

“Je'el” she murmured with another nod of her head. You smiled shyly, feeling embarrassed for a moment.

"I…" your gaze rose towards her "I'm so grateful…but, I have nothing to give you in return though" you answered regretfully, feeling guilty. The woman seemed to turn to stone, as if she were still thinking about the answer to give. Nothing could prepare you for her lightning bolt of hers, impossible to predict, or maybe you were foolish to get caught unprepared a second time. Like the previous night, she grabbed you by the ankle, making you lose your balance and fall onto your butt on the sand. The intent was to drag you towards the water, but this time the soft ground under your hands would not have given you a foothold or a way to save yourself, the only possibility to escape was to ask for mercy.

"Please no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you implored screaming regardless of the little breath you had left between one word and another "I beg you…!" the pleas were interrupted by a gasp, when icy tongues of sea water insinuated themselves between the skin of your back and your dress, wetting your hair too. On your back you found the warrior above you, her face partially covered by the mask a few centimeters from yours, while her eyes dark as night seemed to drink from your fear, just like a predator excited by perceiving the terror of the captured prey. The shortness of breath that made your chest move, now wet with salt water and stuck to the colored fabric of her dress, stopped short when the warrior reached a hand on her mask to remove it. For a moment that aura steeped in dominance seemed to waver, she was aware that as soon as she took her breath away it would last a few minutes, but she didn't allow her anxiety to stop her further. The hand that firmly held the handle of the spear, moved forcefully, driving it into the sand thick with the waves, a short distance from your face, a command and a stern threat not to dare make rash moves, or the consequences would be severe ; your frightened whine was a more than exhaustive answer. Not that she needed further certainties, you had repeatedly demonstrated how clueless I was of your survival instinct.

Removing the mask, the warrior gasped slightly, then shook her head, time was short and she should have used it as best she could. The same hand grabbed your face, not strong enough to hurt you, but firm enough to sink the fingertips into the soft skin of your cheeks, so warm and gradually more and more rosy. Your eyes tried to cast one last pleading glance at the woman as you watched in bewilderment as the sun-kissed amber complexion of her lips was soon tinged with the same blue that ruled her skin…What absurd creature was trying to kill you?! You thought terrified. Your mind traveled wild like a horse, many people before dying reviewed her whole life like a retrospective on a film, but you were imagining how that woman would have torn you to shreds, leaving the rest to the sea.

The feel of her cold, wet lips pressing against yours was the last thing you expected, however. Your surprised hum was suppressed in that kiss. She moved away from you for a second, wanting to memorize with her eyes every single reaction painted on your face, and in a moment of sweetness she caressed your face with her fingers, pressing her thumb on your parted lips in need of oxygen, to breath away from that cascade of gestures so unexpected that mixed with fear and other illicit emotions, they were melting your brain. You were freaking out. Something in you was broken, you had no idea what it was, but it surely had to do with your sanity, as, despite the grip on your jaw, you tried to reach unsuccessfully the mouth of the warrior, who caught off guard , pushed you back down with a 'splash', then attacked your lips with more fervor now. Apparently she didn't accept any attempt at domination other than hers.

Never in your life would you have ever imagined sharing such a carnal and primitive kiss, with the sea creature who held your life in her hands, playing with it and threatening to drag you into the abyss with her, if she got fed up or bored. Her tongue followed yours tirelessly, she knew your shyness and fear wouldn't last long, the way your mouths moved, your teeth clashing as the warrior tried to bite your lower lip or corner of your mouth and the moans that escaped from time to time between a stolen breath and the next, only hinted at an ever stronger charge of libido, like a fuse between the two flints that were your bodies. It was useless to think coherently, there was nothing coherent in feeling that strong passion in that situation, the only thing to do was let yourself be carried away by the current, hoping that all this was just a dream created by your fervent mind.

The other hand of the warrior sank into the shallow water of the shore, grabbing one of your breasts, still covered by the annoying clinging and soaked fabric of your sundress, making you moan in that kiss so voracious and forbidden. She was impatient and became so as time went on.

“K'ujo'obo ', wa uts chéen pudieras respirar yáanal le ja'o'” (Gods, if only you could breathe underwater) her breath collided with your lips, breaking the kiss. Her voice had a scolding tone and it was raspy from lack of oxygen. Curiosity devoured you in wanting to know what that archaic language meant. Her grip on your face gave way, softened as she stroked your cheek. “Ma' péeksik a” (Do not move) her voice does not allow discussions, you didn't know what she ordered you, but judging by the way her hand slid down your neck, you decided to stay still where you were, looking at her with the same eyes of a bewildered puppy.

Noticing no movement or any kind of resistance from you, the woman decided not to waste any more time in lingering, and almost as if she were about to drown, she lowered her face to your breasts immersed in the salty water. A muffled sound of ripping made you jump as you realized she had broken the neckline of your lovely sundress below your chest, then buried her face in the valley between your breasts. Her hot mouth, in contrast with the cold temperature of her skin and of the water, had begun to attack your right breast, causing you a cascade of pleasant contrasting sensations, while greedily biting the soft skin, sometimes almost teasing you, other times more predatory, she left you with the certainty that you would find several reddish and pink halos around it. You moaned once again arching her back, feeling her left hand massaging her other breast, as her tongue laced around your nipple, taking it into her mouth and sucking it as if her life depended on hers. You closed your eyes, taking a last look at the starry sky, while one of the many waves hit you, making you feel suspended in space. Your hands balled into fists, unable to grip anything solid that could somehow help release the tension. It was excruciating, exciting, yet deeply wild and insane what your body was experiencing. A trail of kisses, brought her lips to abandon your right breast, to be able to greedily attach to the other, murmuring delighted in tasting the sweet taste of your skin; as her hands slid down your soft hips, the warrior wanted so badly to feel the clear way every moan and mewl that filled your mouth, just as she wished you could feel how much she was appreciating your body and how she would worship it as a priest does with a temple. Perhaps this was the curse of having found a mate of the surface, a barrier would have always divided you. When her fingers anchored to the edge of the skirt of her dress, the woman re-emerged from the water, but not before leaving one last kiss on your nipple. Your face was pure heaven to her eyes, just as hers was to you. You could enjoy her view of her amber complexion for a few more seconds, while the drops of the sea enjoyed copious on your face, before it returned to her blue color. The woman couldn't help stealing another lovely kiss from you, letting her nose adorned with a septum gently collide with yours.

“Luk'ul le nook'e' Ma'ili' ti' u destruya ta wo'olal” (take this dress off before I destroy it for you) her tone sounded like a growl, which made you shiver in contrast to the sweetness of her gestures. She looked at you almost assuming you could understand her language.

“W-what?” you said confused, lifting yourself up with you torso thanks to the help of you elbows, so much so that you once again found yourself a handful of millimeters from her lips. The warrior rolled her eyes to the side in annoyance, then cursed something softly, this language barrier starting to get on her nerves. She understood that she would have to do everything by herself, and feeling the natural need to breathe water, she began to forcefully tear your sundress again, opening it in half and reducing it to a miserable colored flap, your annoyed squeaks made her curse something again through clenched teeth, and then bring it closer to your face:

“Teech traeré uláak', láayli' asab jats'uts, u prometo” (I'll bring you another one, even more beautiful, I promise) he whispered in an almost sorry tone, while filling your face with wet and salty kisses, in a desperate attempt not to let you escape from her, first the forehead, then your nose and your cheeks and a last longer and more intense on your mouth. It was impossible for you to understand every single word she uttered, yet it seemed you could taste every emotion of her felt in that moment, when your mouths met.

“Bejla'e' p'áaten quieto ka Cha' in ch'a' a siibal” (Now lie still and let me take your gift)

Your eyes darted to every corner as she submerged once more, between your legs and lower belly covered in water. You let out a frustrated sigh at the impossibility of understanding her next move, the liquid surface rippled by the waves and the little moonlight were obstacles impossible to climb over. Your skin crawled in mild anxiety as the warrior's fingers creep between your soft, inviting thighs. Her nails grabbed her flesh and skin, forcing your legs to spread apart just enough to be able to hide your head between them and access your intimacy. Namora licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, unable to contain an excited moan, she wanted to devour you, she longed for that little corner of paradise that you kept so shyly, she knew that a part of you was still afraid and full of questions, but the warrior was certain that thanks to her meticulous attentions, she would make you forget everything, even your name and where you belonged.

Her lips rested on the velvety skin of your inner thigh, leaving a sweet trail of kisses; she would worship every inch of you and your eager moans made her heart pound with emotion as much as her eagerness to sink her mouth into your pussy. She was certain that yours was also going at the same speed and she prayed to her gods that it wasn't for fear of her, she hoped with all her heart that, deep down, the libido was eating you alive just like her, really. At the mere thought she bit a flap of your thigh delicately, watching your body jolt as she sucked it between her lips until a rosy halo imprinted on your skin, while her cheek touched your pussy; Namora wouldn't let her insecurities make her hesitate, you were her mate, she'd felt it, she'd felt it the first time she'd met you, but she reacted instinctively and now it was her time to make up for it, to make you hers, to mark you and show you how much fate had decided to bind you to each other, despite your worlds separating you and he would have completed this task.

A shower of other small, stinging burns planted itself between your thighs, making you gasp impatiently and your legs trembled with sensitivity. Although your pussy was covered in water, you were certain that was swollen and wet, due to that grueling torture; apparently "that kind of siren" had a thing for biting. The fear that she wanted to devour you was replaced when her warm tongue caressed your folds. An audible gasp made your body suddenly stiffen as you tried unsuccessfully to suppress another moan as her lips closed around your clit, leaving a wet kiss.

“F-Fuck..!” in the throes of instinct and perhaps fear of what you were feeling, you backed away from that mouth so welcoming and hungry, but the warrior's grip on your thighs put you back in your place, then carrying them on her shoulders, preventing you from any escape route to this point.

The iron grip of Namora's nails on your flesh left hot and dark crescent-shaped footprints, once again warning you not to fight her and to accept what she had to offer you. Her mouth returned to your pussy, tasting it again, this time taking longer to savor you. She shivered with excitement, delicious, how could something so aphrodisiac be so hard to tame? Her tongue traversed the contours of your folds, descending towards your entrance, lapping the contours vigorously, then rising with the tip up to your clit, without any hurry, sucking it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world. Out of the water she listened to your soft moans even if muffled, your mewls and your back arching with pleasure; a satisfied smile crept onto her lips. Gods, you were perfect, every part of you seemed to have been made for her.

“Jach ma'alobech” (you're so good) she gasped underwater, sinking her lips into your clit, flicking her tongue vigorously, and savoring it like you were her last meal. “A wíinkilil ma' u tuus in, in woojel ba'ax táak u” (Your body can't lie to me, I know it wants me). Her mouth slid towards your entrance, licking the velvety edges, feeling on her lips as your rubbery muscles contracted around her hot, expert tongue as she fucked you with it. Another smile painted on her face continuing with her work of hers, until your thighs of hers wrapped her face, bringing it even closer to you making her moan. To die between the thighs of her mate would have been better than any glorious death in battle, she thought as she emerged from the water to watch your sweet face twist into a dissatisfied expression at the sudden absence of her mouth on your your needy pussy. Were you passively accepting the fact that you were for each other?

Namora took off her headgear, which had now become uncomfortable for her too, and throwing it far enough to prevent the tide from taking it away, she let her long, jet-black, wet hair fall copiously on her shoulders and chest, framing that face that now it seemed that of a nymph, of rare beauty, coming from who knows what tropical and unknown land. She leaned towards you, until the tips of your noses touched, your breathing became short, your pupils were dilated, your mind was clouded, your desire to escape was now extinguished, now what mattered most to you was merging your lips with hers again, tasting the nectar of your own juices.

“Rogadme” (beg me) Namora's voice woke you up from your state of ecstasy, her hot breath collided on your mouth, her eyes didn't leave yours for a second, while the fingers of her right hand slowly slipped between your folds, massaging them with almost excruciating slowness, meticulously careful not to touch, except lightly and absently, your clit. You inhaled sharply, as your hips swayed towards Namora's hand, hoping for more relief.

“Rugar in, ka continuaré” (Beg me, and I will continue) as your lips desperately tried to reach hers to kiss them, Namora pulled away the necessary couple of centimeters for you to moan impatiently. She smirked lustfully at your pathetic plea to be kissed.

“Please…” you murmured in a sigh as you dropped your head back onto the soft, wet sand, accentuating your defeat and submission to her will. Out of shame you closed your eyelids for a long moment, while what little pride you had was finally swallowed up by your desire to be ruined by that unknown woman. “Please, Please…!” dominated by the need to please, let a punch of audacity make you gather the necessary courage to grab Namora's hand, bringing her palm closer between your folds, guiding it in faster movements, which made every tense muscle of yours loosen, bringing you a nice wave of shivering pleasure as the tips of his index and middle fingers slid inside your hole. You were literally seeing stars and that warrior hadn't even started on you, damn, did you really lose your mind if you got so pathetic for a little attention, how long hasn't someone made you feel this way?

Taken aback by your courage and initially convinced that you wanted to chase her away badly, Namora let you do it, but when she sensed that it was only the rash gesture to seek some relief from that cruel torture of teasing, a low and satisfied chuckle it escaped her lips. Placing a hand on your shoulder, she thrust you in a well-aimed move back to the ground, and after grabbing both your wrists and placing them equally bulky either side of your head, silently commanded you to remain in your place. She loved that there was a decisive reaction from you too, however she was in charge that night and she did not accept compromises. The woman gasped slightly, she needed water…so placing a last kiss on the lobe of your ear, she whispered: “Bix a k'áat, in Diosa” (as you wish, my Goddess) before diving again under the water.

Without any fear or insecurity that this time you would have escaped from her, Namora firmly gripped your thigh with her left hand, while with her right hand she spread your velvety folds with her fingertips, exposing each of your most sensitive points to the cool water temperature and the warmth of his lips which soon fell upon them. Her tongue returned to your clit lapping it mercilessly, and sucking it giving your body small jerks and tremors. Her tongue was everywhere, going down and up between the contours of your folds, the tip of that warm muscle gently pushing between the gummy walls of your entrance, then clinging again to your clit, embracing it between her sweet lips as she sucked your nectar they so craved. Your hands slipped through her long black locks of hair, stroking them, and gently pushing her face even further between your welcoming thighs, making the warrior moan with pure pleasure, while the tip of her nose and her icy jade septums collided with your sensitive clit, making you cry out from the rain of rowdy but ecstatic you were feeling. You bit your lower lip a little dissatisfied when you ascertained that it was impossible for you two to meet your gazes in that sinful act. You wished you could watch her irises, dark as night, catch your every moan and mewl as she continued to devour your pussy like it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted.

“Cuán impacientes chan” (how impatient we are) she commented to herself, flicking her tongue on your swollen clit, replacing her mouth, with two fingers that began to slowly massage that part, before slapping it with her fingertips, making you crying out. “Tak ku beetik jump'éel minutos querías huir ti' teen ka bejla'e' a a lanzando u in fauces bey juntúul chan kaaye' num” (until a few minutes ago you wanted to run away from me, and now you're throwing yourself into my jaws like a silly little fish) another slap, as the left hand slid near your entrance. Her fingers resumed massaging your clit, and your eyes rolled back in the dizzying pleasure mixed with the constant edging; Apparently that creature liked to play with its food. Another slap, as if she reading your sarcastic thoughts, you bit your lower lip hard, hoping your obscene verses hadn't woken up anyone in the village. “Ch'úupalo 'descuidada, descuidada” (careless, careless girl) with each word Namora decided whether to give you a warm caress of her lips or her fingers or a severe slap on your now too sensitive clit. Your eyes got wet, from the pleasure, you just wanted to cum, you just wanted the pleasure to flood you just like the waves of that calm sea were doing.

When she noticed your legs starting to shake, did she know you were ready, did you crave pleasure? She would give it to you until you burst, until your mind was drunk with her and only her. A finger slid into your entrance with ease, and Namora didn't mind moaning on your pussy of pleasure, leaving a pleasant vibration on your pussy. You were so warm, soft, welcoming, so wet with that sweet nectar. Every thrust of her finger into you, was accompanied by the rhythm of your hips, even as she tried to keep you in your place, you wanted more, you wanted—

"Please, more…" you moaned incoherently almost as if it were a prayer. The warrior added a second, as her thrusts got faster, deeper. A blaze of fire was growing in your lower abdomen, its hot flames traversing your slit, your trembling legs, making you sensitive to the slightest touch. Feeling Namora's fingers curl and scissor between your gummy walls, molding them to her liking, confidently reaching for your magical spot, as if she knows your body like an open book, made you see stars and moan like a slut without any shame, no one would have come to disturb you, of this you were certain by now, or at least you hoped.

Her fingers continued to sink relentlessly into your hole, her mouth sloppyly tasting every inch of your pussy, oblivious to the tip of her nose rubbing your swollen clit. Your first orgasm hit you like a jolt, a vortex of freezing and hot temperatures had collided on your body making you lose any sensitive perception, any possible coherent thought. Your thighs closed automatically around the woman's head, unable to understand whether to stop her or to entice her even more to feed on you. One thing was certain, Namora didn't seem willing to stop, not even in the face of the constant spasms of your entrance, now filled with her fingers, which continued to rub and dilate your walls, looking for every point capable of making you scream and jump. Your moans were never mixed with whimpers and sobs, despite Namora trying to reopen your thighs, your legs seemed to hold her in an almost fatal grip; You were certainly not an obedient human. It didn't matter, she thought, she would educate you over time.

You were on the verge of another intense orgasm when you felt the uncomfortable sensation of her fingers leaving your hole, as well as her mouth. No, you thought in exasperation, why did she stop again?! You opened your eyes and stood up with the little strength left with your torso, hoping that your elbows supported you this time, ready to beg her to get back between your legs, but the sight of her gorgeous face left you speechless voice.

“Fuck, you're a Goddess” you mumbled in pure admiration, as you watched as the blue veins slowly replaced her caramel skin. Only when she heard your voice did she bring her gaze towards you, and then lean down on your face to be able to kiss you. It was a sloppy kiss, that she knew about your juices, but at the same time you could feel an unusual aftertaste of feelings that attracted you to each other like magnets. You didn't have the courage to think it was…attraction? No, it felt like much more. As if two people at the ends of a long red thread were finally to find each other. They were thoughts too complex and out of your reach to be able to contemplate in that moment of ecstasy and lust, you were two worlds too different to understand each other, despite this you were fused as in a single flame, or like two waters of two springs in a single stream.

Your hands grabbed the edges of the armor that covered her chest and toned and sculpted torso, trying to remove it, but with little success, afraid of breaking it because of your carelessness.

"I want to see you" you gasped, kissing her again, your lips captured her bottom, pulling him gently towards you, making the warrior moan in a low tone, who in the meantime had taken your face in her hands, intertwining her now blue fingers between your hair "I want to feel your skin on mine…" Namora broke away from you for a few moments, breathing heavily as she watched you as if she were having a hard time translating into her mind what you had to say to her; even her lucidity was failing. Her manner seemed to be less harsh and controlling than before her, but you knew her haste was the constant lack of oxygen. If only…if only you could breathe underwater.

"You're beautiful" you murmured shyly, placing a hand on her cheek to caress it, she tried not to wince, but her amazed gaze spoke for itself. I wonder if she understood you. Namora brought your face close to hers, until your foreheads touched in an intimate gesture. Your chests were close, your hands tried once again to undress her, but the woman gently wrapped them with hers, bringing them to the sides of her face, still wanting to feel the warmth of your soft skin on hers. Her expression was tight, as if torn about what to do. She would have wanted to give herself to you and worship you on that beach all night long if that were possible, however, her difficulty breathing was making her strength weaker and weaker. But she…she didn't want to leave you, not now that she'd found you.

“No possible…” her english was very primitive, her voice rasped from lack of air. She was contemplating something about her, while you watched her confused and at the same time amazed to hear her try to break your language barrier. “I bring…the Flower. Then nothing…separate us” a flower? What was she talking about?

"What you mean? I don't understand” she shook her head, nervous that she didn't know how to explain it in your language, your eyes reopened, looking straight into yours, there wasn't much time left before the primordial need to get back in the water forced her to part from you. K'uk'ulkan was surely wondering what had become of her most trusted person, just as Attuma, her place of belonging was calling her back and demanding an explanation for her sudden absence. The woman took your right hand bringing it to her heart, gasping slightly and not taking her gaze off yours she said: "Namora…" you looked perplexed at her needy eyes, almost like a puppy "I…Namora" she repeated insistently and that moment you guessed: she was telling you her name!

You smiled and bringing her hand to your heart, you whispered yours. She gave a hint of a smile, almost relieved, she had already painted that name a thousand times in her memory of her, even if she had discovered it only seconds ago, wishing you were doing the same too. Grabbing your face in her hands she pressed your lips in one last needy and chaste kiss, but so powerful it took both of your breaths away.

"Wait for me…I" the woman grabbed the mask, swallowing with difficulty "I...go...go back to you" she murmured before placing the mask on her mouth and taking a deep breath, under your bewitched and incredulous eyes of all that had happened that night.

You watched Namora cast a quick glance towards the sea, as if some invisible voice had called her back. She shook her head before reaching for her spear and headdress. She turned away from you as getting to her feet she walked quickly towards the sea. Before the waves could take her completely away from you, the woman turned towards your naked figure, studying you for a few seconds and then disappearing into the water, just as she had arrived. She would come back, it was a promise you both were certain of. Your barriers would no longer be a problem, Namora thought as she swiftly swam across the depths of the sea, towards Talokan, her home. She would bring the antidote to you the next time you met and nothing, nothing would tear you apart again. The woman smiled, imagining and dreaming of you two swimming in the waters of Talokan, introducing you to her people, teaching you her culture and her language, tearing you away from the cruelty and dangers of the surface world. In the meantime, you had tiptoed back to your little house in the now sleeping and silent village as a tomb. After putting on your pajamas you took the notebook you had brought with you and with a smile on your lips and your heart still beating, you wrote the title of your next novel: 'Calypso. A love lost in time'.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imaginativethinking @mar-de-seentimientos @bloatedandlonly

[1starqi]

Plugging In

genre: band au

pairing: bassist!soobin x guitarist!reader

warning: soobin is scared of being on stage but then hes ok, not proofread

word count: 1.1k

(Chapter List)

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▸ Now Playing: unplugged boy

It’s dark outside; the only light is a lamp from the kitchen and a permanent night light to the right of the couch. The backlighting illuminates the kitchen and living room. There’s a scattering of sheet music that adorns the sofa. You and Soobin had been practicing the piece—one of the strategies you read online for getting over stage fright. 

Your fingers trace absentminded patterns on the music, crinkling it slightly. “Do you want to do—” You were going to ask to go over a part, except you see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and the starry strap of his bass. “Soobin?” You can hear the laced concern in your voice.

“Yeah. It’s just a lot.” He says, essentially saying that he’s fine. “The thought of performing, you know, it’s scary.” He confesses.

“Okay,” You steady your tone, “if we’re freaking out, it’s freak out time. I’m setting a timer.” You announce. You press go on a one-minute timer. Soyoon and Yeonjun will be here in three minutes if they’re punctual. “Tell me what’s scaring you.” 

“I’m scared that I’m going to mess up, and I’m scared that I’m going to freeze. I’m scared of all of it. I’m scared that they’ll laugh at me. I’m—I’m scared I’ll let you down, you’ve been trying so hard for this,” He says slowly, before adding in a faint voice, “for me.” His voice is shaky. Your heart aches at his vulnerability. You hesitantly reach for his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Did you know I used to play unplugged so that no one would hear me play?” He laughs a little bit at himself, and you offer a slight smile as you tilt your head, trying to show him some semblance of understanding.

“You sound better plugged in.” You tell him. “You won't mess up. And even if you do, I'll be right there with you. I’ve seen you improvise on the spot, you’re amazing. We'll get through any mistake together.” You promise, and the doorbell rings right as you finish your words. “Alright, freak out time is done.” He still looks shaken up. Executing a solution, you lurch towards him, “Boo!”

“Ack!” His eyes go wide as he gets startled, and then he laughs. “You’re terrible. That was really scary.” Scaring him double might not be the best choice, but you guess it’s like math, the two negatives will cancel out. 

“Did I distract you?”

“Obviously.” He responds, and you throw your arms around him in a hug.

“We got this, Soobin.” You tell him, and if you were less focused on performing, you might’ve noticed how his breath hitches. He does look less anxious, though. “Soyoon!” You sing as you traipse out of the room, leaving him with his heart beating out of his chest before he takes a deep breath, and picks up his bass to meet you in the main room.

When he meets you, bass in hand, Soyoon, and Yeonjun sit on the couch, talking with you as you tune your guitar for the gazillionth time. Admittedly, performing in front of two of your friends is a little bit embarrassing, but you know they’ll support you the whole way. 

As Soobin attaches the strap to the guitar, you hear a yell, “Go Soobin! We love you!” The yell is loud, and of course, it’s Yeonjun. You can see Soobin flush at the callout and you laugh, and you don’t know if you’re laughing at Yeonjun or Soobin. You do know you’re looking at Soobin, though.

“Are you ready?” You quietly ask, and he quickly nods as he tunes the final string on his bass. “We got it. Remember that.” You order him as he takes a deep breath. “Whenever you’re ready.” You tell him to start the bass line, loud enough that Soyoon and Yeonjun can hear, and he begins the bass line.

As you join in with the guitar, you can see him take another shaky breath, and you can tell the weakness of his strums, when the song calls for more confidence. Trying to be an example, you turn back at him and flash a huge smile. You mouth words of encouragement and you see him close his eyes, trying to calm himself down. When he opens his eyes, his strums are stronger and he gives you a nod. It’s a good thing he got his confidence when he did because his vocal part immediately started. He’s right on cue. When you look back at your audience of two, you see Soyoon and Yeonjun smiling, clearly enjoying the performance. You can’t help but smile as you hear Soobin jamming his heart out. It’s like a switch flipped in him. He doesn’t look so reserved anymore. You imagine him on a stage like this, and you can only imagine how much fun it would be to perform with this amount of energy from him. You hope whatever mix of jumpscaring, designated freak-out-time and support continues working for him. You’d jump-scare him every day if it frees him up like this, not that you would mind. It was kind of nice watching him laugh after you scared him. Your cue sucks you out of your thoughts, and you add your voice to the music miscellany in your living room.

When you strum the final chord, Soyoon and Yeonjun erupt into cheering. Soobin starts to laugh and immediately turns to look at you. 

With a tone that’s authentic to him, he starts to say something. “That was really fun, actually.” Your heart swells with relief to hear him say the words you’ve been dying to hear. 

“I’m proud of us.” You tell him with a smile, and he turns pink like when Yeonjun called his name.

“I can’t wait to join in!” Soyoon says, loud over Yeonjun’s continuous cheering. 

Seeing his cue to stop clapping, Yeonjun agrees with Soyoon, “Me too. I’d love to produce a cover of this. Maybe I could use it for my class, even.” He says.

“Or, we could produce one of the pieces I write, and you,” She points directly at your nose, “and Soobin can adapt it to the guitar and bass. We can come up with something all together for the keyboard and drums! I’ve been working on melodies.” She rambles, and you smile as you exaggeratedly nod to ensure she sees it.

“What’s our band name?” Yeonjun asks, setting Soobin up to finalize his idea.

“Going Four.” Soobin confidently announces.

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taglist: @eclipse-777 got another chapter for uuu