#thanks for reading!

[llamaisllama777]

Theory: Nexus is a virus addendum!

Okay, so read part one of this to get the contexts.

Okay, so I was talking with @shi404

About the theory that Dark Sun took Nexus' code when Sun killed him and turned him into a virus and he's spreading that virus throughout the multiverse, which is causing all other Moon's to act like Nexus and attacked their Suns which is causing their Suns to attack and kill them.

And I do think that is still happening... BUT allow me to make an addendum or an altercation...

The Nexus virus isn't in Moons... He's in the Suns!

That's why Nexus is in Sun's head cause Dark Sun planted him inside all the Suns to get them to attack their Moons making them hate their Moons more by making them see and think of Moon the way Nexus did which is causing them to go rouge and kill their Moons!

The Suns are becoming Nexus!Suns

This episode could reveal that Nexus has been planted in every Suns' head and that the Nexus we saw last episode in Sun's head IS THE REAL NEXUS!

That is all. Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

I... I think I know what's going on.

Theory: Nexus ain't dead. We're all still playing Dark Sun's game!

(Nexus fans, you're gonna love this. I know I am)

Okay, so, in today's episode, we see Moon travels to another dimension cause of a dimensional anomaly and sees a Sun bashing his Moon's skull in. Moon is obviously startled and horrified by this, and after a little investigation, Moon finds out something is wrong in the multiverse, apparently in 36% of the multiverse a bunch of Suns have started to kill their Moons.

Why? How? What caused this? What triggered it? Suns just don't start randomly murdering Moons...

I think we may have an answer...

Nexus isn't really gone. Dark Sun is still pulling the strings.

Okay, so, remember this episode?

In this episode, Dark Sun asks Nexus' permission and full trust to do something. Now we never found out what this something was until now, I think.

Dark Sun also mentioned in this episode or a different one he says that Nexus wouldn't have the same body forever. I thought he meant like he'd make Nexus a new body to contain his negative star power, but no. He just meant Nexus wouldn't have the same body... he never said he'd make him a new one.

In this episode...

Dark Sun briefly mentions to Sun that whoever he chooses to kill, he will exsponge the data of them so they couldn't come back... this means Dark Sun has access to Moon and Nexus' code... he has their code. Hmmmm....

Plus, Dark Sun did have access to Ruin a.k.a, a guy who had been exposed and probably knows how to make the Ruin virus...

Nexus isn't gone. He's just not in our world anymore. He's in EVERY WORLD NOW!

When Sun killed Nexus, that's what Dark Sun wanted. He didn't want Moon to die. That wouldn't benefit him. He needed Nexus to die to complete his plan. Dark Sun has access to Nexus' code and Ruin, a guy who knows an awful lot about the Ruin virus he probably knows how to make it, too.

Dark Sun wanted Sun to kill Nexus, so Nexus would die and become pure code, Dark Sun could then spread Nexus around the multiverse like a virus and cause other Moon's to go rouge and become Nexuses which would cause other Suns to kill their Moons and become like Dark Sun in a sense.

Dark Sun did say he did all this for Sun and probably every other Sun.

Dark Sun is trying to prove to all Suns that all Moons are bad and that they're better off without them. But of course, in the grand scheme of the multiverse, not EVERY Moon can be bad, so Dark Sun and Nexus MADE them bad.

Dark Sun is trying to create more hims cause he does view himself as the Superior Sun, the Sun that grew up, the Sun that grew a spine, the Sun that fought back!

Dark Sun views himself as a sort of savior of Suns, and in his twisted mind, he's trying to save the other Suns from being used and abused by their Moons. He's trying to prove his point that all Moons are bad, but since not every Moon is bad, he had to make them bad to prove his point. (Which kind of defeats his point, but I digress)

Dark Sun is trying to do this to save the other Suns! By ruining the other Moons!

Tl;Dr Nexus isn't dead and is now pure code, and Dark Sun is having him go around the multiverse, turning all Moon's into Nexuses to prove his point that all Moons are bad and make more Suns like himself.

But hey, that's just a theory...

A TSAMS THEORY!

[thefantastician]

the thousand year door comics!!

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.3)

go check out part 1 and part 2 if you'd like! this is a long one, sorry guys.

if you haven't already i'd recommend you check out pt. 1 & pt. 2 (linked above), but if you haven't checked them out i've been going over some of the main things people have been criticizing ba's characterization for: 1. the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one" 2. his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character 3. the neighbor's kid interaction

alright, so this last point is purely based off of one page of the entire comic: the one where the child of one of jason's neighbors is dragged inside his home when his mother see's jason coming.

first off, i love this page. it might be my favorite page in the entire issue. everything about it is great. just thought i needed to say that.

anyway, there's some people who are seeing this page and reading it as "jason protects kids! that's one of his big things! why are they scared of him?"

here's the thing, though: the kid isn't scared of jason, the mom is. the kid is literally playing dress up as the red hood-- he's not scared of jason, if anything he's trying to replicate him. little kids dress up as their heroes all the time; why is this kid any different? it doesn't really make sense for the kid to dress up of something he's scared of (not everyone is as weird bruce wayne), especially a real person that could be a real threat rather than a concept. i doubt you see many kids in gotham dressing up as the joker or something, because that's just asking for trouble.

the dress-up honestly seems like a ploy for attention to me. the kid clearly knows that red hood lives in his building (which is honestly so funny. take off the mask jason you're giving you're position away (actually this is a really good instance for analysis but i'm determined to not go on a tangent)). if the kid knows red hood lives in his building, what better way to get his attention that dressing up as him and playing pretend? if the kid was scared of him, he wouldn't want to draw that sort of attention to himself. if he had a sort of hero-worshippy thing going on like i suspect, then he would want to get jason's attention. to sum it up,

it's the mom who pulls him away when jason nears, because she either a) perceives him as a threat, b) doesn't want her kid to try and replicate him even more, or, the most likely option, both! the kid isn't scared of him, but the mother believes they should be.

once again, we come back to the whole perception vs. reality theme i talked about in part one! we've come full circle, everyone!

when looking at the neighborhood's perspective of the red hood, ba gives us a few contradictory examples. there's the kid and the mother, obviously, but there's also a slew of other citizens who interact with him at the beginning of the issue, both in fear and camaraderie.

the unhoused man and the people outside of his building clearly have a familiarity and are comfortable with him, while the shopkeeper is terrified and literally has a banned poster on his wall featuring jason (i am so curious what he did to deserve that, if he even did anything at all). from this, it appears that jason's reputation teeters between fearful and familiar-- a sentiment that also colors jason's relationship with his family.

furthermore, this concept underscores just how lonely jason is-- one of the only good relationships he had in his current life was his fucking landlord, for gods sake, and he's dead.

i think it's important to note that jason doesn't respond to the friendly greetings from the men-- he could attempt to build camaraderie, the roots are there, but he chooses not to. he could work to try and show the mother that her son is safe with him, but he chooses not to. why? jason is obviously lonely (as ba states in the panel below) and he caves pretty easily when damian asks him for help (both of them are so desperate for human interaction its tragic). so why does he distant himself from the community?

obviously it is in part due to the vigilante lifestyle, but it is also jason's perception of himself and how he believes others perceive him, especially in regards to his family (ba is literally hitting readers in the head with that theme baseball bat).

he doesn't see that the kid with the mask looks up to him, all he sees is the mother pulling him away. he sees the banned poster in the store. and, as ba narrates, "he was sure he'd been forgotten about" by his family. utrh is jason's twisted way of attempting to reach out and connect with bruce, and obviously that doesn't work-- so he chooses loneliness over rejection.

like in part one, though, damian refutes this idea by describing bruce's perspective, showing how what jason believes differs from actuality. bruce hasn't forgotten about him and doesn't hate him, as he suspected, but instead harbors guilt over the situation and desires to make it better, which jason must come to understand to be able to open the locked door and begin to move past his trauma.

so, that's what the little kid in the red hood outfit looks like to me. i actually have a lot more i'd like to say about the boy wonder, especially in regards to the whole "door to my past life" thing and what ba does with lighting and blocking in his artwork, so i may do a little post on that as well! i was gonna try and shove it into this one, but i've run out of room! i hope you guys liked my analysis, if you'd like to chat about the boy wonder or any other comics, my dms, asks, and reblogs are happily open! thanks for reading! :)) <3

pt. 1 / pt. 2

[bluegiragi]

pull yourself together.

read updates early on patreon

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death Part 3

Part 1 and Part 2 Doctor Alex Danvers and Karen Starr moved in perfect symmetry, as they worked to extract the bullets.

Kara had sensed the one that punctured Lena's lung, but another had been hidden by her spine. Her stomach rumbled, but the granola bar Nia had dropped off sat uneaten in Kara's pocket. Instead, she kept her vigil, her stomach knotted at the sight of Lena's still form. Alex had been stiff-lipped about the prognosis. Each second, minute, hour, Lena still breathed, unconscious, while the doctors sewed her body back together. Machines hummed and beeped, and Kara took to pacing a groove into the floor. Nia had tried twice to convince her to come eat with the others, but Kara couldn't leave Lena.

If she did, she'd do more dangerous stunts, testing the edge of her powers, just to not feel the intense shame, fear, and worry that throbbed through her muscles.

One of the nurses rushed out of the room. "Rh-null blood!" she shouted to one of the technicians, further down the medical wing. "We need another batch!"

"That's our last one!" the technician called back. "Ms. Lena Luthor was our only donor."

"What do you mean Rh-null blood?" Kara asked, anxiously.

"Need it to prevent hemolysis," the nurse said. "Her blood type is one of the rarest, compatible as a donor with any human blood type, but only able to receive Rh-null blood in return."

Dread curdled through Kara. "When does she need this?"

"As soon as possible," the nurse glanced back at Alex and the other doctor.

Alex leaned over Lena's bed with her tools, her body blocking the spine region from view. They'd propped Lena up on her side with a thick pillow on the other. Her skin was pallid, deep shadows under her eyes, and her body limp against the body pillow. A terrifying sight for Kara.

Kara clenched her jaw. She pushed past the nurse despite the nurse's protestations. "Alex! Does she need another transfusion?"

Alex waved a blood-stained glove at her. "Kara, don't interrupt, and yes. Nurse --"

"We're out of her blood type. Nurse said it was super rare, is that true?" Kara ached to reach out to hold Lena's limp hand, but she didn't want to disturb the delicate surgery.

Alex looked up. Even with the mask, she looked haggard. "Well shit. And yes. i wouldn't even know how to begin to find it. All the stock we had is what Lena herself donated. She's one of the few Rh-null donors in the world."

Kara grimaced. "Then what about synthetic blood? I could make some in the Fortress if I had a sample of her blood."

"Synthetic? Would her body reject it?" Dr. Karen Starr glanced at Kara, her eyebrows scrunched. She held a scalpel in her hand, its edge gleaming silver in the florescent lighting.

"Not if it's an exact match. I should be able to replicate down to the atomic level, but..." Kara nibbled on her lower lip and the urge to weep nearly overcame her. "I could only do a small amount. It takes considerable time and energy to do larger batches. Maybe enough for one or two transfusions."

She didn't want to admit that it had been years since she did any science of this magnitude, and that had been with Kryptonian blood, which differed slightly from human. The protocol for working the synthesizers was the same regardless.

One of the monitors beeped. Alex cursed again. "She's dipping again. Starr we may need a breathing tube if she continues to dive." She stripped off her gloves, tossed them in the bio-waste, and replaced them. "Kara, if you can pull that off, then we need it as soon as possible." She used the IV to pull a small vial of blood. She handed it to Kara.

"I'll be back in a jiffy." She dashed out of the room, leaving a gust of wind in her wake.

Again the sonic boom rattled the windows of National City. The blood vial she held close to her chest.

Returning to the Fortress so soon left her feeling ill.

Here Lena had saved her from Rama Khan. Here Lena and her had fought. And here, Lena encased her in a Kryptonite ice cage. The horrifying truth was Kara could have broken free, it'd been painful, but she had the strength. Instead, she'd stood there, stunned.

If Lena had decided to kill her, Kara would have let it happen. There was no doubt in her mind; she could never fight Lena.

But Lena hadn't wanted to kill her. She'd done all she could to make sure Kara recovered fast. That seeded Kara's wrecked heart with a wild hope.

Turning down a side corridor, she raced for the medical wing of the fortress, the area she had not taken Lena. Inside a massive tube took up much of the room, with several medical instruments, machinery, and a control panel covered in Kryptonian glyphs.

She keyed the command for the synthesis of blood, a program coded into the Fortress long ago, likely when Kal's father sent it on its way.

She flipped open the side panel and inserted the tube. Now Lena Luthor's blood would join her own and Kal's in the archive, along with all of Kara's and Kal's family.

A three-dimensional DNA strand appeared in the air, along with various imaging of the cells contained in the blood. She keyed an analysis against her limited database, then keyed the command for a replica of the blood.

A red alert appeared requesting more material. Kara scowled, of course. Can't synthesize a larger amount from nothing.

She recalled a vague lesson from her father. How he'd used raw ingredients from plants to show her how any ingredients worked for synthesizer as long as it held the correct set of elements.

So, okay, raw ingredients could come from anything. So why not herself?

All that mattered was that the final product exactly match Lena's blood.

"Kara Zor El?" Kelex floated up to her. "Do you need assistance?"

She glanced at the floating robot. "Yes, actually. I need you to take my blood and put it in the synthesizer. It's low on ingredients."

He flew closer to the medical control panel. "This is human blood you are synthesizing. Are you certain you wish to do this?"

Kara rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm. "Yes, do it." She closed her eyes and tensed for the pain of a kryptonite needle. Kelex worked quietly. The soft slosh of blood in the tubing he'd hooked into the synthesizer rang with the hum of the machine.

She opened her eyes to see the data from her donation form on the other side of Lena's blood imaging. She watched in fascination as her blood was broken down into its smallest components and reassembled with Lena's parameters.

The entire process lasted fifteen minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Kara kept shifting and nearly dislodged Kelex's needle from her vein twice.

When the signal rang for completion, Kelex applied an coagulating agent to her wound and gathered up the tubing. "This will be destroyed per protocol. Do you wish to destroy the original sample?"

Kara tugged the larger container free from the synthesizer. The smaller vial still sat in its slot. "Yes. Thanks Kelex. I got to go."

The entire flight back her head swam with dizziness from the blood draw, the night sky not at all conducive toward recovery. By the time she stumbled into the surgery room with the container, it'd been nearly twenty-five minutes.

"Please tell me I'm on time," she said.

Alex stared at the metal container. Several monitors beeped alarmingly in the background. "Yeah, yeah, how do I work it? Because she needs it now."

She showed Alex the set of controls and where the tube could be inserted for the transfer. "I tried to make enough to last awhile."

Alex swiftly hooked it up to Lena's IV. "All that from a small sample?"

"Well, not exactly." Kara rubbed the back of her neck. "I used my own blood as raw ingredients so the synthesizer could reformulate it for Lena."

"Shit." Alex's hand hesitated on the clip that would start the transfusion. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Hundred percent match to the original sample. Do you have a choice?" Kara crossed her arms. "You said her blood type is rare."

"Nearest hospital with Rh-null stock has only a quarter of what we need," Dr. Starr said. She worked on the final stitches to Lena's spine surgery. "We've had no other replies on the network."

"Fine. Let's hope this works." She flicks the clip and breathes out a long sigh. "As for you," she pointed to Kara, "great work. Now shoo and go sit under the sunbed. You look pale as fuck." Alex waved her hands toward the door. "I'll let you know when she wakes."

When. Alex said when.

Hope dug its roots into Kara's heart for the first time that day. *** Light danced across her eyelids. Whispers echoed in her ears. Soft fabric lay across her skin. Pain melded with the aggravating thirst and pulsing headache.

If she was dead, then the pain would cease.

Which meant she was alive.

Her eyes slowly opened to a small room of mostly glass walls. She lay on a bed, and a sheet and blue blanket covered her body. Someone dressed in a white lab coat and black pants fiddled with the IV bags. Or rather one metal container that had a tube connected to her IV, its contents blood-red.

The red hair cropped short rang with familiarity. "Alex?" Lena rasped. Speaking hurt her throat. Her mouth way too dry.

The woman turned with a smile of relief. "Hey, the sleeping beauty finally awakes." She turned and lifted the blanket to adjust the blood pressure cuff and examine the IV needle in her elbow. "Maybe now my sister will stop bothering the hell out of me."

"Kara?" Lena struggled to comprehend what happened. "How? What is that? Why am I..." She tried to lift her finger to point at the container, but she seemed to have misplaced her strength on the stairwell.

"The signal watch." Alex lifted her head to study Lena, her eyebrows furrowed. "You're lucky. A few minutes later and I'm not sure even surgery would have saved you. You lost far too much blood. It's a good thing you donate blood a lot, as we had to do several transfusions. When our stock ran low, Kara raced to the fortress to synthesize more."

Lena struggled to parse Alex's words. "Synthesized?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm no expert on Kryptonian tech. That's Kara, Kal, and Brainy. All I know is she used her own blood as ingredients to craft a replica of yours."

"Her own blood?" Lena repeated, stunned.

But why? She'd raged at Kara, trapped her in a Kryptonite cage, deceived her for months, and yet Kara saved her? And why was Alex helping her? If Alex knew about the Kryptonite cage, she'd be more likely to shoot her or throw her in a cage to die. Not save her life.

Hot brands swept through her neck and back, and she hissed, her eyes briefly closing. The machine hummed next to her like an irritating bee. Each pump alleviated some of the dizziness, but the pain burned with a dogged persistence.

Alex reached over her to dim the lights. "Look, I get the whole being reluctant to use the watch. But for that situation? You should have used it sooner." She fiddled with a tablet. "Those bullets did some nasty damage."

She gave Lena a faint smile. "You also don't have to worry about Leviathan assassins any further. Kara took care of them."

"Took care of them?" She felt like a parrot, repeating words that made no sense to her. "But why? We -- we fought."

Alex hesitated far too long, her smile tight. "Ah, she just took care of them. They won't bother anyone going forward."

It dawned on her slowly. "She killed them? But..."

Alex understood her trailed off sentence. "I know," she said, softly. She grasped Lena's hand and squeezed gently. "It's against her code to kill, but you've always been her exception."

This was a dream. It had to be a dream.

Tears blurred her vision, and although she tried to hold them back, they burned on her cheeks. Her body throbbed in agony, her condition atrocious, and this information overwhelmed.

She had been prepared to die on the stairs. Any signal watch activation had been only for a last goodbye.

Kara should have left her there. Moved on and found someone better. Not save Lena, who out of bitterness and heartbreak hurt Kara and deceived her for months.

With a tenderness she didn't deserve, Alex wiped away the tears with a kleenex. "Take it easy, Lena. You're safe here." She gestured to a cup with a straw. "Want a few drops of water? Can't have too much but it'll at least eliminate the dry mouth."

"Alex..." the urge to confess simmered, but the words clogged her throat and came out as a strangled sob. She wanted to curl up in a fetal position and cease existing. She should have died. Why couldn't Kara let her die? She'd lost everything.

"I don't deserve this..."

"Nonsense." Alex smoothed back Lena's hair. "You deserve it more than anyone." Her smile held a hint of melancholy. "And I'm sorry I wasn't as supportive of you and Kara. No matter what happens, we're here for you, Lena. And I want to make up for my mistakes to you."

"Don't!" The word erupted in a coughing fit. "Please, don't. Alex, I hurt Kara. Don't you see? I'm not good." Her tears burned with shame. Her thoughts fixated on the Kryptonite cage, the pain of seeing Kara in it, the urge to free her, how it'd taken all her willpower to walk through that portal. How she'd collapsed into tears on the other side. She loved Kara, and yet still hurt her? What kind of monster did that?

God, she loved Kara. She loved her so much it hurt. Now she was broken on bed, trapped with the knowledge she was capable of hurting Kara. "You shouldn't have saved me."

Alex frowned. "Lena, we all make shitty mistakes. I fuck up and hurt Kara sometimes, and we talk it out and fix it. You doing it doesn't mean you deserve death."

"Shitty? Shitty doesn't cover this." She felt loopy and out of control. Her emotions bubbled and frothed, her head spun, and the pain crawled through her spine. "I killed my brother for her. And... and he showed me she was Supergirl. I didn't know what to do. So I went to all of you, and you were celebrating and playing games." The pain with each breath, each word spoken ripped through her. But she had to get it out. She had to make sure Alex knew she was not worth this care.

"Lena..."

"No! Let me finish!" She tried to push herself upright, but her arm wouldn't handle her weight. She collapsed onto her side, wheezing. "Was I just the Luthor on a leash? No more a friend than a cat with a rat? I wanted Kara to feel my pain. I deceived her, used her, and I do not deserve this care--"

"Lena," Alex interrupted, sternly. "Lena, listen to me. You are hurting yourself with this." She gently pushed her back against the mattress and readjusted the blankets. "I am a trained doctor, and one thing I know, that it doesn't matter what a person did. If they come to me needing medical assistance, I give it. Want to know the best thing you can do right now?"

Lena sucked in a breath, still trembling from the pain and exertion.

"Rest. I mean it, you've been through hell. Your heart stopped during surgery, okay?" Alex's voice shook with an emotion Lena couldn't decipher. "I had to call J'onn in to hold Kara back from doing something very stupid. We almost lost you." She breathed in sharply. "Now is not the time for confessions and blame games. As your doctor, I order you to rest."

She picked up the cup and held it out. Reluctantly, Lena took a few short sips. Her head fell back against the pillow in exhaustion. She closed her eyes, but all she saw was the Kryptonite cage.

***

She woke next to voices whispering by her bed. One she recognized as Kara and the other took her a few seconds. Nia? She hadn't interacted with the girl much. She kept her eyes shut, the pain too much to handle speech.

She wished they'd go away. Leave her to mope in pieces.

"Kara, you need rest too. Lena will be okay. She's under Alex's supervision."

"I'm not leaving her side. I can't." Kara's voice sounded uncharacteristically wild. "She died, Nia, she died for almost twenty seconds. No, I have to make sure she's okay."

"I get that, okay? It scared all of us too. We can take shifts or something. Make sure someone is always at her bedside." Nia shuffled further from her bed. "Didn't you say we were stronger together? El Mayarah?"

Kara breathed in sharply. "Using my family motto against me?"

"Hey, just using my full arsenal here. Like you taught me." Nia paused and sighed. "I didn't want to say this, but Andrea has been on me today about our articles. The only reason we even have this extension is because it's Lena in the hospital. Don't make the situation worse."

"Maybe I'll just quit."

"And never be a reporter again?"

"Lena is more important."

"Oh my god, Alex wasn't kidding. You're like a steel mountain. Not budging. Do you think Lena would want you to just throw away everything you've worked for?"

"Lena is more important than anything."

"Even your life?"

"Yes."

"Jesus, Kara."

"No!" Lena winced at he pain from her outburst. Both Nia and Kara turned to her. "No, god no, I'm not more important than your life."

Pain arced down her back, and she blinked back tears, but still they crept free anyway.

"Yes you are!" Kara shot back. "I'm nothing without you, Lena! I just can't. I can't lose you again."

Lena growled deep in her throat, and gathered up every once of energy she had. If she had to walk out of here to prove her point, then fine.

Except, no matter how hard she tried, her legs refused to respond. In fact, she felt only a vague tingling, more in the thighs and not anything below.

She pushed herself upright, which sent pain shooting down her back. Her hands gripped her legs. They were definitely there, but she couldn't get them to move.

"Lena! You shouldn't be moving yet!" Kara said, frantically. "Please, rest." She moved to push her hand against Lena's shoulder.

In response, Lena pushed back, but that succeeded in collapsing into Kara's arms. "Kara," she growls, "if you don't go out there and do your job, I will verbally berate and flay you alive."

"Um, Andrea already does that," Nia said.

"She's too soft," Lena grumbled.

"That sounds a bit like you're telling on yourself," Nia said. When Lena shot her a glare, Nia took a step back. "And I'll just be getting Alex, bye!"

The door swung shut behind her.

Kara gently laid Lena back in the bed, and to her dismay, she didn't have the strength to protest. "I'm going to stay here until you're better."

Lena wanted to yell at Kara. To get her to stop whatever this was. But the pain crackled through Lena's body, and she couldn't think coherently. Instead, to her horror, she wept, her only intelligible words, "I can't, I can't, I just can't."

Kara tenderly held her through it, her hand smoothing back her hair. She didn't say anything, just stayed there, until Lena, exhausted, tumbled back into blessed unconsciousness.

***

Time held no meaning. Depending on the culture, it either flowed like a river in one direction, or it flowed in a circle. Even cosmology couldn't decide if the universe was cyclic -- a big bang, expansive era, then the big crunch -- or ever expanded in all directions endlessly.

Lena felt trapped at the center of some sort of timeless hell. The pain left her short-tempered, and the fact Kara refused to give up on her also grated on her.

"Why can't you see the truth?" Lena shouted at one point. "My body is broken, Kara! I'd rather be dead!"

Kara had stared at her, but then she clenched her fists. "Don't you dare speak ill about yourself." Her voice dropped to a dangerous low tone that did more for Lena's libido than it did to intimidate. "You are beautiful. Gorgeous. And you're hurt and healing. You deserve life, and I will always fight to save you."

Lena didn't know what to say in response.

Because Kara had an alarming point.

She had fought to save Lena over and over again. No matter what her family threw at them, no matter how many assassin's sought her death, no matter the attacks on her person, Kara had been there. Or she'd send Supergirl, which had actually been Kara.

"Was it really you flying me when I was poisoned?" She asked instead. Her voice came out weak, irritatingly timid.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was. I -- I was terrified. Had to use ice breath on you to induce hypothermia to give Alex's medicine time to work." Kara slumped in her chair. "I almost told you then when you said you remembered the flight."

"Why didn't you?"

"James was shaking his head ..."

"I didn't ask about James, Kara. I asked about you. Or do you not make decisions for yourself?" Irritation crept into her voice.

"That's the problem, Lena! Don't you get it?" Kara threw her hands in the air. "I didn't trust myself, all right? So yes, I did rely on others to make decisions, especially about the whole Supergirl identity. I can't afford to mess up. I can't afford to lose anyone else. I just can't."

Lena struggled to parse Kara's words. The pain ricocheted up like it always did before Alex or a nurse came and swapped IV bags for new ones. "What do you mean you didn't trust yourself?"

"Do you know what happened before you came to National City? The attack by my people? That was my Aunt." Kara said bitterly. "My Aunt and her husband wanted to -- Rao, it doesn't matter. I trusted her, and I was wrong. People got hurt. So many died. Alex had to kill my own Aunt because I couldn't do it. Nothing stopped her and Non. And then, and then..."

She shot to her feet and began to pace. "You're not the only one who can make kryptonite, okay? Max Lord did it first but he made red."

"Red? What does--"

"It was horrible. I -- I got infected and it shut off my inhibitions, it made every bad thought, every intrusive nightmare, come to life. I acted it all out, and people got hurt. I almost killed Cat Grant. Alex and J'onn used every Kryptonite they had to capture me."

Lena blinked. She didn't remember reading that in the papers, but then she'd been very distracted by shit in Metropolis at the time. "Were you in control?"

"I don't know." Kara dropped back into her chair and put her head in her hands. "It haunts me to this day. I hear the word synthesized Kryptonite and I start to have flashbacks. I can't let that happen again."

"That's why you acted that way during the worldkillers crisis." Lena didn't ask it as a question.

Kara's shoulders slumped. "I had to be in control. That way no one could get hurt. No one would die. And that was out of my control. But I was trapped back in the Red-K nightmare, and I didn't realize it at first. I -- i was wrong. I shouldn't have acted out my trauma on you. I'm sorry for that too. It hit home how bad I fucked up in the elevator when we were on our way to comfort Sam."

No wonder Kara had looked so upset when she said she'd never trust Supergirl again. She sighed and rubbed her fingers against the IV line. "I tend toward dramatics and can be terribly petty," she said finally. "You tried to talk to me as Supergirl to fix it, and I refused to listen. So as Sam likes to remind me, two wrongs don't fix anything. I'm sorry too."

Kara tentatively touched Lena's hand. "Thank you for this conversation. How are you feeling? Are you in pain again?"

"Alex mentioned internal bleeding once and you're hovering again?" Lena grumbled.

Kara winced. "I just want you to be well."

Lena sighed. "I know, Kara. And yes, I'm in pain. How about you get your sister, and read more of your book out loud?"

She wasn't sure what started that activity, but listening to Kara read soothed her far more than she'd like to admit.

"Okay." Kara shot to her feet. A breeze whipped Lena's hair into her face, Kara vanishing.

Still not used to it, but she was getting closer at least.

***

Two weeks and four days after she woke in Alex's medical ward, Lena was examined by Alex and a Doctor Starr. Part of that exam required her to sit in a wheelchair, which hurt far more than Lena wanted to admit.

Alex's checked her reflexes with her little hammer, while Starr listened to Lena's lungs.

It was irritating, but she was slowly accepting this was her reality now.

At least, the odd Kryptonian container had been used only once since she first saw it. She had a stress induced bout of hemolysis, which didn't surprise her. She knows she's prone to anemia. Kara's frantic reaction had Alex banning her from the room for two whole days.

It should have brought relief, but Lena missed Kara by day two.

As the doctors conferred, a startling thought hits Lena. "Alex, has Kara ever had a loved one in a condition as bad as mine?"

Alex turned and crossed her arms. "When I got sick from Pestilence, I'm told Kara was uncharacteristically erratic. But I was only sick a day or so. So I guess, no, not for this long."

"Hmmm." Lena turned the thought over in her head. "I think I know how to calm her down."

"Oh?" Alex had adopted a neutral tone since Lena's high-on-pain-meds confession. "And what wonderful idea does my patient have today?"

"Take me around wherever we are. Let her see me outside this room." She attempted a smile. "Yes, I'm in a pain, don't ask. Just let her see visible progress."

"I'd advise against..." Dr. Starr started to say but Alex held up her hand.

"No, she's right. Kara needs to see progress. And you are progressing, it's just not really that visible right now." Alex stepped closer and leaned over Lena. "But I need full honesty. Are you positive you want to do this?"

Lena nodded. "Yes. If it helps Kara, then yes."

"I'm not asking about Kara. Will this help you?"

Lena tilted her head puzzled. "I suggested it to aid Kara not myself?"

"Oh my god." Alex threw up her hands. "Do you see what I'm working with here?" She said to the other doctor. "They're both idiots."

Lena sniffed a trifle offended by that statement.

"I mean, yes, you have a pertinent point." Dr. Starr chuckled. "Maybe just indulge her?"

"Not you too. Go right the report." Alex flicked her wrist at the other doctor. "And you," she pointed to Lena. "Tell me immediately if your pain increases. Or else."

Lena knows an empty threat when she sees one. She gives a half-shrug. "Sure. Now shall we?" She waves her good arm toward the door.

Alex grumbled under her breath and pushed her through the door. A certain satisfaction warmed Lena's heart. She'd won against Alex, which was not an easy feat.

The hallways outside the medical room were all a dull grey. The austere architecture painted this place as the DEO. Ah, so that was why she was under Alex's care.

"Lena?! Alex!" Kara skidded to a halt near the door to the control room. Lena can hear the voices of agents and machinery beyond it. "Oh gosh, should... should you be up? Are you okay, Lena? Do you feel any pain? Oh Rao, Alex, what if she's in pain?"

"Kara..." Alex started to say, irritation in her voice, but Lena cut her off.

"Kara, listen to me." Lena held up her hand. "I suggested this. Needed some fresh air. I'm fine. Honest." Yes, her pain has increased a bit, but honestly, she needed out of the medical room.

Plus, this served a dual purpose of showing Alex that perhaps she could go home to rest and do outpatient or whatever happens next for recovery.

Kara wrapped her hands around Lena's, holding it gingerly like she's glass. "Are... are you sure?" She looked so pathetic, that Lena relented.

"Kara, darling," Lena said, gently, "If we're going to get through this, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Kara nodded. "Anything."

"Then trust me when I say I'm okay. Don't assume what I need. Always ask. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I can do that." A hint of relief coated Kara's voice.

Lena realized an important fact about Kara that day. When dealing with a situation Kara couldn't control, Kara needed tasks to do. Even simple ones worked.

She tested this hypothesis the next three days. Her conclusions confirmed her hypothesis correct. Kara truly did a lot better with tasks.

If there was one thing Lena excelled at, it was crafting a list of tasks. Whether she got them all done in a day? That was another story.

On the fourth day, Alex stopped in for the usual check-up. "So, you've really figured my sister out, huh?"

Lena studied Alex carefully, uncertain if the question was in good faith or not. "I'm reconciling all parts of her in my head. I can't say that means I have her figured out."

"No, I mean, you solved it." Alex gestured to the building beyond the medical ward. "She has calmed down by a million percent. I no longer feel the need to kick her off the planet twenty times a day."

Lena couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Alex's boot knocking Kara into orbit. "That annoying, huh?"

"God, yes. I get it, I do. You really scared us. All of us. Even Andrea Rojas has been in my business. And now Sam demands to know when she can visit." Alex scribbled her vitals onto the chart by her bed. "So now Kara is dealing with them. Using your phrases too. 'Don't assume, ask Lena.' I can actually do my duties for once."

"About Andrea and Sam..." Lena leaned back in the bed, fatigued by the act of sitting up. Which was incredibly annoying, but fine, that was her life now. "It's been a few weeks. How are you handling those businesses? I only spoke with Jess once."

"I'm not giving your phone back yet," Alex scolded. "I can't trust you with it. You'll try to solve world hunger or something."

"I was merely answering my emails and..."

"Nope, no work. You can't heal if you're working." Alex capped the marker and stuck it to the board.

Lena rolled her eyes. "Alex, I am dying of boredom. Answering emails won't kill me."

"You weren't though. You were heads deep in programming, and then wondering why your pain was so bad, you couldn't move for a whole day." Alex shook her head. "Can't trust you. And I'd like to."

The way she said those last few words had a seriousness that contrasted her slightly playful, scolding tone from earlier.

"How do I build up that trust then?"

"Prove to me you're serious about this." Again that sense the conversation had a double meaning. Something more than just her health. "I need to see you acknowledge your limits."

Lena frowned. "This conversation isn't just about me, is it?"

Alex put her hands on her hips, oddly similar to Supergirl, except Alex held far more authority in the stance. "Perceptive. Yes. I asked Kara about your confession. It wasn't easy. She finally told me everything. You put her in Kryptonite, Lena."

Lena looked at her hands. "I know," she said, softly, "I remember. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that. It's why I programmed in the sun burst."

"Which is great that you did that, but Lena, can I trust you to never trap Kara in Kryptonite again?"

Lena clenched her fists. "Yes." She met Alex's gaze, resolutely. "I love Kara, Alex. I recognize I fucked up. I lashed out exactly how Lex wanted. Played into his hands again. So as a big fuck you to my brother, I'm going to stick by Kara's side, and do what I can to aid her."

Alex studied her silently for a long moment. "Okay."

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Just okay?"

"Yes, just okay. Geesh, want a rambling speech, ask my sister." Alex walked to the door but paused, her hand on the doorknob. She looked back at Lena. "You're good for her, Lena. Kara has never been as happy than when she's with you. Please don't fuck this up."

"I thought you didn't do rambling speeches?" Lena smirked at Alex's raised middle finger.

"Oh, before I forget, you feel up to start physical therapy?"

"Is this where I prove to you I will honor my limits?" Lena asked dryly.

"You could say that. So a yes?" When she nodded, Alex smiled. "Great."

After the door shut, Lena sat in the semi-darkness and wondered if she could trust Kara and Alex. Could she trust any of them?

She raised her blankets and looked at her legs. They tingled now, but moving them caused pain bursts at the base of her spine. She didn't trust Lilian to help her with this. She did trust Sam, but after ghosting her and not answering her calls for months?

She dropped the blanket and laid down. She needed to trust them, and that scared her far more than any promise to a prickly sister of a Superhero. Trust was not something she did well. It tended to backfire on her, and yet, what else could she do?

Trusting no one but an AI had gotten her exactly nowhere. Other than more heartbreak and stuck in the medical ward, disabled from waist down for who knew how long. She truly did want to get better, but was she hiding from the world by half-assing this recovery?

Kara didn't know the extent of her treachery, or how she'd used the DEO to test the mind-control she'd uncovered from the Martian. Yes, that test had helped Andrea, but it also showed that her programming had a troublesome flaw. One she never quite ironed out. Hope's calculations had been her last ditch effort.

It led her to the same question that had haunted her since she woke up here: why were they helping her? Only her own paranoia answered that question, which wasn't helpful.

She closed her eyes and let the darkness of pain pull her out to sea.

***

When she next opened her eyes, the light was muted even further.

A person snored softly in the chair next to her bed. She turned her head to see Kara slumped there in jeans and a purple button-down shirt. Her blond hair spilled in loose ringlets around her face, and a book perched in her lap.

It was the book she'd been reading out loud to Lena: Poseidon's Wake, a fascinating science fiction romp about aliens, human's hubris, what constituted sentience, and sentient elephants.

On the table just behind Kara's chair, a vase with flowers sat with a card in front of it. She picked it up, the paper rough against her skin. Inside and decorating every page was kind 'get well soon' words from Nia, Brainy, Kelly, and all of Kara's friends.

The people she'd deceived in her single-minded quest of revenge. Her stomach twisted with nausea. The card slipped from her fingers to fall onto her stomach. A small card sat taped to the vase, and that one just read, "From Sam and Ruby."

She sucked in a sharp breath and winced at the pain in her left side.

Kara flinched and sat upright, her eyes blinking sleepily. "Lena?" She focused on her bed and smiled in relief. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

The question bubbled out of her before she could stop herself. "Why is everyone helping me?"

"What do you mean?" Kara reached up to fiddle with her glasses, but she wasn't wearing them so the gesture became tucking hair behind her ear instead.

"I deceived all of you. I hurt you." Lena's voice turned bitter. "Alex said she wants to trust me. That I'm good for you. I knew Kryptonite hurt you and I did it anyway. Why don't they all hate me? Why am I here?"

Kara shrugged. "The cage dropped as soon as you left. Then came your lovely sun bomb thing. I saw the code you used. You programmed that. So that means you never meant to hurt me. And I think you needed to get that all out. I -- I'm sorry it took me so long to understand. So, don't worry, it's okay."

"Okay? Just okay?" Lena couldn't believe her ears. "Kara, I need you to be honest. Why am I your 'exception' to your rules? Why is Alex giving me the shovel talk? What are we to each other?"

Kara sighed. Her fingers drummed against her knee. She took a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision. "Because I love you. I didn't realize how much until our fight. Until I almost lost you." She briefly closes her eyes. "I nearly lost myself to rage. Dunked myself in the ocean to try to calm down. And I couldn't let you die without telling you my last secret."

"Last secret? I -- I know you consider us friends..." Lena had heard Kara say 'love you' before, but this moment felt charged in a way the others did not.

She smiled, sadly. "It's not friendship love. Lena, I love you. Everything about you. I want to be with you in whatever way you'll have me. And if you don't want me around? Say the word and I'll vanish. Well, maybe still save you when needed but only in a professional way I guess."

"Be with me?" God, she was being a parrot again, but the words from Kara's mouth felt unreal. "You love me? And yet deceived me for years?"

Kara slumped in her chair and pulled at a thread on the cuff of her sleeve. "I'm sorry, Lena. I really am."

"Yes, you've said that many times," Lena said. She sighed and picked at her blanket.

For a long moment, she struggled against an absurd urge to cry. Fatigue lined her body and soul, and truthfully? She didn't want to fight Kara or enact revenge any more. Her retaliation hadn't helped her feel better; she'd felt worse instead.

No, maybe she should try the harder road. Talking. God, what would Lillian think of her now? She was going to discuss her feelings instead of of manipulating the universe.

"Did you ever trust me?" Seemed a good place to start.

"Yeah!" Kara nodded. "In most things, and I wanted to trust you about Supergirl. I just." She leaned her head back with a growl of frustration. "At first the DEO pressured me to tell no one, especially you. But then it became about me wanting to be just Kara with you."

"The whole not trusting yourself come into play there?"

Kara nodded. "I let others convince me that not telling you was good. That if I told you, I'd be selfish and ruin a good thing for you."

"Wait, did someone actually advise that?" Lena wrinkled her nose. "Because that's shit advice."

Kara winced. "Mon-el did."

"I see. From now on if someone says lying to me is better for me and honesty is selfishness, just punch them for me, okay?"

Kara blinked at her before bursting into laughter. "Oh Rao, okay, sure, I can definitely do that."

"Great." She imagined Kara punching Mon-el, and it definitely brought more satisfaction than anything she did the past few months. "Do you trust yourself now?"

"I..." Kara hunched down in her chair. "I don't know." She breathed out roughly and a piece of ice formed on her knee. She flicked it to the floor. "When I -- I found you? I lost myself in rage. I killed Rama Khan and his allies. I don't really regret it, but... can I trust myself? Because if you're hurt, I -- I probably should be restrained."

Just as she suspected, guilt threaded through Kara's voice. Lena shifted to the good side, her pain ever present a minor ache from the pain meds. "Will it help to know I trust you?"

Her own words surprised herself. And yet, it was true.

She did trust Kara.

Kara looked up and smiled faintly. "It does actually. I wasn't sure you ever would again."

"Kara, even when I was angry and hurting, I still trusted you with my life. My heart?" She ran a hand through her hair. It needed washing again, which meant asking the evening nurse for help, something she dreaded. "That I couldn't trust you with. But!" She held up a finger to stop Kara's words. She shut her mouth. "I think I'm ready to try. I know this won't be easy. We're both headstrong, but when I'm working with you, I'm a better person. I'd like to find that again."

Kara smiled, tears shining in her eyes. "You feel like home to me. I feel I'm a better person with you too. Even if I'm a bit dramatic about injuries." She rubs her hands on her jeans. "I just, I don't know. I was so worried."

"I know." Lena reached out and touched her wrist. "You've never had someone you love taking this long to recover. A rather intense introduction to mortality, eh?"

"You died for twenty seconds, Lena," Kara whispered.

"Are you focused on that or on the fact I'm alive?"

Kara tilted her head and stared at Lena. "What do you mean?"

Lena waved her hand impatiently, then winced. Her side ached at the movement. "If you focus on that fact and not on the present moment of me, recovering, then you become trapped in the past. You can't move forward, can't plan, and your actions become only reactions. Never a conscious, informed act."

"Oh." Kara tapped her fingers against her leg. "You know, that's a good point. Death has made you wise."

Lena shrugged. "Maybe. I need the reminder myself sometimes."

For a moment, both listened to the drip of the IV.

"I didn't have these powers on Krypton," Kara said suddenly, "I was just a normal kid, well, as normal as the first thirteen year old inducted into the Science Guild could be." A slight smile tinged her lips, but it faded into melancholy.

"You were a scientist?" It surprised her a little.

Kara nodded. "Bred to be so."

"Wait, I'm sorry, bred?"

Kara smiled. "The birth matrix is how we reproduced. It was very rare to have a natural birth like Kal's parents. Usually parents like to edit the child's genes. I was modeled to be a scientist like most of the El family."

Lena hummed thoughtfully. "I'd love to hear more about Krypton, Kara. If you'd like to share." She definitely had questions, though she' wasn't sure how best to ask.

"Thank you." Kara reached out to grasp her hand. "No one has every really said that to me?"

"Seriously?" Lena frowned. "Then consider the offer standing. Whatever you wish to share, I will listen."

"And the same for you. I want to hear what you have to say. Your thoughts. Hopes, dreams, random ideas, anything."

Lena smiles, but one last question still haunts her. "One last question. You've said 'just Kara' a lot. You've always been just Kara to me. Did you think I'd treat you differently if I knew?"

Kara winced visibly. "Yeah? Everyone does. I mean, look at Winn as an example. I wasn't just Kara to him anymore, and he became obsessed with superhero stuff. James knew thanks to Kal. Nia treats me as her superhero mentor. It's just over and over people failed to see me. They saw the cape, and either wanted to be like the cape --"

"James," Lena murmured, thinking of his guardian stunts.

"Or helping the cape. I wasn't just Kara, and I could be that with you, and it felt so good. Like coming home. It's why I can't stay away. I want to make this right, Lena." She yanked the thread free of the cuff. "So, uh, that's why I'll help you with your Myriad plan if you want."

"What?" Lena stared at Kara. "You don't know what it is yet."

Kara shrugged. "So? It's you. I want to help you no matter what. If I have to hang up the cape and go undercover to do it, then fine."

None of Kara's words made any sense to Lena. Her head ached again, and a faint scent of peaches wafted from the pain meds. She tried not to think of her legs.

"The project is dead," Lena said, flatly. "You might as well take Myriad back. It won't happen any time soon. Especially not with this." She waves a hand weakly toward her legs. "I can't feel them yet."

Kara reached over and grasped Lena's hand. The warmth sent a shiver down Lena's spine. "Then I'll help you recover. Whatever you need."

"Kara..." Lena sighs. "What if I hurt you again?"

"I hurt you first," Kara said. She winced, "I mean, not to make a contest of it. But yeah, we hurt each other. So that's a thing we did. But here we are, both of us alive despite it all. And yeah, we might hurt one another again, but I think you're worth it. You're beautiful, Lena, outside and inside. That hasn't changed. I want to work on us if you're game."

Lena recalled her words at the Fortress, said in anguish, "You don't get to tell me who I am anymore." But that had been a lie. She'd wanted so bad for things to be real with Kara. To be loved by Kara. To not have it all snatched away.

She'd wanted to fix it all, but it had not occurred to her she could just talk it through with Kara.

For several long minutes, she quietly breathed and sorted her thoughts. The pain simmered annoyingly, but she wasn't ready to sleep again. Not yet.

"This isn't easy for me," Lena said, carefully. She winced at the pain along her side, but she wanted to get this out. "I wanted to fix the pain. To somehow stop others from hurting one another."

"With your project?"

Lena sighed. "It doesn't matter. Hope was lost and she's needed to run the calculations. And would it have stopped the pain? I don't know. I didn't have time for proper tests. It wasn't ready, but Leviathan kept accelerated my timeline."

"So you sought to end all pain?" Kara tiled her head. "Isn't that kind of... mind control?"

Nausea swirled in Lena's stomach. Those words reminded her of Lex's journals, of his experiments, of his experiments on her. God, Lex really had played her, hadn't he? He knew she'd read his journals, knew she'd turn on Kara for her lies. "It's for the best," she whispered, "that it failed. Lex manipulating me by driving a wedge between us." She fiddles with the strings on the blanket's edge. "He has a habit of snatching away all the good in my life. He tried to destroy what we had. Like a fool I fell for it."

"No, well, maybe for a little while. But we're still here, and we're being honest." She lifted Lena's hand and gently kissed her knuckles. "I understand you might not believe me now, but I'll prove it."

Lena sighed. She wasn't sure what to say to that. The medicine dulled her thoughts, drew back the pain, but now fatigue corded through her body. "You already are. And I want to work on us too." "So where do we go from here?" Kara asked.

Where did they go from here indeed? She knew this was a stupid idea, that she shouldn't allow it, but with the Fortress fight, the assassin, almost dying, surgery, long recovery, and now this?

Lena weakly tugged on Kara's hand. "Ask me later. Right now... can -- can you hold me? I don't want to be alone." Her words came out small and shaky. This asking for things scared her as much as it thrilled her.

"Of course." Kara graced her with one of her winning smiles. She gently moved Lena just enough for her to slip onto the bed next to her. Her arms wrapped around Lena, and warmth embraced Lena from head to toe.

She buried her face in Kara's shirt, and breathed in her vanilla scent.

The anger and pain that had fueled her for months no longer simmered in her gut. Part of her feared giving Kara another chance, but at the same time, her traitorous heart shouted in relief at being in Kara's arms. The hurt hadn't full gone away, but its edges had softened.

"You've always been her exception," Alex had said.

Maybe starting tonight Kara could be her exception. Instead of more revenge plots or running, she'd stay and work on whatever this was between them. No matter how hard it became. Maybe someday soon she can say the words out loud, that she truly did love Kara.

Because even in the fires of hardship and pain, a rock could still become a gemstone.

Epilogue incoming

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Time passes in ways Eddie doesn’t fully understand, in the aftermath of Steve’s injury.

A few days are spent lounging around the hotel room with Steve drifting in and out of sleep, for the most part. Then they graduate to small day trips. Squeeze in some touristy shit; museums and landmarks not too far from the hotel, in case Steve gets a migraine or starts feeling nauseous. 

Day 6 features a follow-up at the hospital, where Steve is told the bandage is no longer necessary to cover the worst of the injury, surgery won’t be necessary, and he’s clear to fly home or wherever else he wants to go. Which means Eddie is also free to leave LA, but he’s already stuck it out this long, so he decides to continue to follow Steve’s lead and spend another day.

He gets a call from Steve before he leaves his hotel room on Day 7, informing him that Max is leading a trip to the beach before they leave California again. Steve insists it’s the least he can do since Lucas flew out to spend the last few days with her, so she could stick around until Steve was clear to travel again.

And that’s how Eddie finds himself wearing lavender board shorts from the surf shop that looked the least like a tourist trap, dousing himself with an entire bottle of the highest SPF he can find before stepping out of the store. His black ripped jeans and the Judas Priest shirt he’d worn, not anticipating a trip to the beach, are folded into the bottom of a large tote Robin is carrying with ease, as she picks out towels for everyone to lounge on. She catches sight of him and raises an eyebrow, but he holds his hand up to stop any commentary.

“Black is just going to make me burn even more than I’m already going to burn, and the blue pair I liked were the wrong size, so lavender it is.” He defends, but she just shrugs at him, keeps smiling and walks over to pay for the towels and her bathing suit.

Behind Eddie, Lucas clears his throat. He spins to find Steve, blushing and glaring at Lucas, who’s grinning. 

“What? Don’t tell me I need to defend the trunks to you guys, too. I thought you’d be on my side.” He whines.

“Oh, I don’t think Steve has any issue with your shorts. Or lack of a top.” Lucas teases, then laughs as Steve swings a soft punch into his shoulder.

“I just…” Steve trails off, turning his attention back to Eddie and Eddie can see the heat rise from Steve’s cheeks up to the tips of his ears, coloring him a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t realize how many tattoos you actually have, I guess.” He eventually settles on, before immediately occupying himself with finding sunscreen.

Eddie lets it slide, and they all pay for what they need, before crossing the street and trekking toward the water. Max is the first to toss her shorts and sandals into a pile, running toward the ocean and diving into the first wave she encounters. Lucas is just a step behind her, and he’s quick to catch her waist and throw the two of them back into the water just as she’s resurfacing.

Robin shoves a rented umbrella into the sand and Eddie helps expand it, as Steve lays out his towel so his face is covered by the umbrella’s shade, but his torso down is exposed to the sun. Eddie, on the other hand, huddles up so most of his body is concealed by the umbrella.

“Oh shit, dude, I didn’t even think to ask. Are you worried about getting seen out here or something?” Steve asks, and Eddie frowns. It takes a moment before he realizes it probably seems like he’s hiding from any potential paparazzi.

“I get bothered so little by media that I hadn’t even thought about that if I’m being honest.” Eddie shakes his head but smiles at how thoughtful Steve is. “I’m just a little too pasty to trust the sun on a cloudy day, so direct exposure like this always makes me nervous. But I like laying in the sand and I’m happy you wanted me to tag along. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he assures Steve, who smiles at him until Robin mocks a gagging noise and makes them both blush and look away from one another.

The salt air and crescendo of waves and bellowing laughter kick up a surprising amount of inspiration for Eddie, and he fishes his phone out of Robin’s bag, typing away while she and Steve sunbathe. 

He’s so caught up in the piece he’s working out that he doesn’t realize anyone has spoken to him until Steve’s pressing a hand to his knee, looking a little concerned. 

“What? Sorry, I got an idea and I had to get it out before I forgot about it.” He mumbles, typing out his final thoughts before giving Steve his full attention.

“We’re going to return the umbrella and grab food before heading back to the hotel to pack up, if you’re hungry?” Steve asks, smiling at Eddie. He looks back at his phone to realize their hour with the rented umbrella is nearly up, so he nods and helps clean up the space they’d taken over, before they find a beachfront restaurant that doesn’t mind that none of the guys are wearing shirts, or that Max’s hair is still dripping wet, leaving a trail behind her as they move to their seats.

Once they’ve eaten, they go back to the hotel. Eddie asks if he can shower to get the sand out of his hair before he changes back into the clothes he’d had on pre-trip to the beach. When he re-enters the room, almost everything is packed up and Robin is on the balcony, talking on the phone.

“Nancy called,” Steve explains from the sofa, as Eddie flops beside him, towel-drying his hair gently. He hadn’t bothered to put his shirt on yet, not wanting his hair to make it all wet while it air dries. “Did they hurt?”

“Hm?” Eddie’s confused instantly, looking at Steve before realizing he’s eyeing the tattoos across his chest. “Some of ‘em more than others, yeah. But it’s a good kind of hurt.”  Eddie explains, and Steve frowns, but that’s okay because Eddie knows not everyone gets what he means whenever he explains the tattooing experience like that. “It’s… kinda like if you have itchy sunburn and you accidentally scratch it? It feels good to have scratched it, but it also hurts.” When Steve still looks confused, it’s Eddie’s turn to frown. He looks over Steve’s exposed arms and takes in the soft golden color they’ve turned and his eyes narrow. “Do not tell me you’re one of those genetic anomalies that doesn’t sunburn and always has a perfect tan, Stevie.”

Now Steve is grinning, throwing a shrug in Eddie’s direction. “Blame it on the 8 years of swim club during the summer off-season.” Steve laughs as an explanation, and Eddie instantly wants to know more about everything Steve has ever done in his life, but doesn’t know where to draw the line at how much is too much to ask to know, so he ultimately doesn’t ask for any further information. Which is fine, because Steve is leaning closer and taking hold of his left forearm, twisting it and tracing a finger along a snake that wraps around his skin. “Do they have meanings?”

“Some of them, yeah. Some of them I just got because I liked how they look.” Eddie admits, watching Steve’s fingers trace along the delicate lines of the snake. “That one’s got its mouth open like it’s hissing and about to bite.” Eddie considers what comes next, and decides to just lay it all out on the table. Steve had been open and honest with him, Eddie could return the favor. “Snakes are supposed to be a symbol of inner strength and perseverance, and they look sick. I got it after my first stint in rehab.”

Steve doesn’t falter, doesn’t even blink, and if Eddie didn’t know better, he would think Steve had already known about his trips to rehab before he’d said anything. Instead, he moves on to trace a blackout band around Eddie’s bicep. “Do any of them have stories you want to share? You don’t have to if it’s too personal.”

He’s stunned to silence for a moment, something that doesn’t often happen to Eddie. But he’s so used to everyone pressing to hear more about rehab and addiction and recovery that his brain physically needs a moment to catch up to Steve. “Oh. Uh. I mean, the one you’re touching doesn’t have a meaning or story, I just liked how it looks.” Eddie thinks for a moment, then, before he holds out the inside of his right forearm. “This one is a puppet master. Master of Puppets is my favorite Metallica song, and when I learned to play it is when I realized that music could actually be a career path for me.” They run through a few other tattoos; the Wyvern, the spider, the “you bow to no one” in elvish down his spine. While still working up the courage to tell Steve more, he switches his approach. “Do you have any tattoos? Or have you ever wanted any?”

“I’ve never thought about it in a serious way, because I’m not sure I’d like having something on me permanently like that.” Steve shrugs, flipping his arm over to point at his right wrist. “The few times I’ve thought about it, it’s been like. A robin, here. The Roman numerals for 94 somewhere. That kind of stuff.”

Eddie smiles softly, nods. “It’s adorable that you’d want one for Robin.” He teases and lets the moment breathe for a moment before he circles back to the tattoo of the snake. “I’m not ashamed of my story, or my history, but we hadn’t really talked about, you know. That aspect of things, yet. But, I mean. I made terrible choices when I was younger, and I got in over my head with drugs harder than I realized. And it’s happened more than once. And I’m not naive enough to think I’m magically cured because drugs haven’t raised an issue for me over the last few years. But I’ve been mostly sober for almost 4 years.”

“Mostly?” Steve asks, concern clear in how softly he speaks, and Eddie can’t help but grin and shrug a little.

“Still some weed sometimes. Still drink beer sometimes. Both in moderation, not anything out of control. It, uh, probably sounds weird but those weren’t substances I had issues with, so I don’t… I don’t really think about drinking or smoking as cheating, but I know some programs would call it that way.” He shrugs, and Steve nods, processing the information.

“Well, thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s probably not easy to talk about, but. I learned a few new things about you today.” He offers with a little smile, and Eddie nods back. They slip back into silence, until Robin slips back into the room, looking between the two of them expectantly.

“Did you ask him?” She asks, and when Eddie turns his attention to Steve, he flushes.

“No, I uh…” He trails off, picking at a fingernail before looking up at Eddie, then back down at his hands. “We’re flying back to Chicago tomorrow, and we were wondering if you had your plans set for heading back to Nashville?”

“Oh, yeah. When you guys initially said you’d be leaving tomorrow, I booked a flight home for tomorrow afternoon.” He says and watches Steve’s lack of reaction. Wonders if he should have asked about joining them in Chicago until Steve gives an awkward smile. 

“Right, that makes sense.” He nods. “Well, we can all head to the airport together, at least?”

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie agrees, turning to look at Robin in the hopes of finding an explanation, but she turns away to take her turn in the shower, leaving Steve and Eddie together on the sofa.

~~~

Gareth picks Eddie up from the airport once he’s touched down in Nashville, and they head back to his house. Eddie throws himself into the comfort of his sofa, huddling up to a pillow with the intention of taking a nap, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. When he fishes it out, he smiles.

Stevie: Dustin has taken over the apartment, but we’re home. Hope you got home safe, too.

“Why are you smiling?” Gareth asks as Eddie is typing out his response.

“I’m not smiling,” Eddie responds instantly, schooling his expression and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, so Steve texted you,” Gareth says, matter-of-factly, before scrolling on his own phone. “Want to order food? I’m hungry and you don’t have anything edible.”

“Why do you assume Steve texted me?” Eddie asks, frowning and sitting up straighter.

Gareth raises his eyebrow and glances over his phone at Eddie before he sighs. “Because you were making that face you’ve been making for the last month every time you text him, and you just got home from a week with him, so obviously he’s texting you again. Your turn to answer; food?”

Eddie stares at Gareth for a moment, watches as he turns his phone around to face Eddie, showing off the Uber Eats screen, before he scoffs and takes the phone to place his order. Before he hands it back to Gareth, though, he holds it just out of his reach. “What face am I making?”

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t play dumb.” Gareth laughs, but Eddie frowns deeper. Gareth frowns back, then. “You really haven’t put it together?”

“Put what together?” Eddie asks, finally handing Gareth his phone back. Gareth takes it, but doesn’t look away from Eddie until he answers.

“Dude, you’re in love with him.” He says, like it’s obvious, before going about placing his own order.

Eddie thinks for a moment. He knows he has feelings for Steve; finds him attractive and interesting and definitely wants to see if something is there. But to know that his friends can see through him puts him on edge, makes him defensive. “I’m not in love with him, we’re just friends.”

“Eddie,” Gareth laughs before he sees the serious look on Eddie’s face and he sighs. “Look, man. I’m not trying to start a fight or make you spiral or anything. I’m just saying. You leaned into a TikTok trend for him, voluntarily learned about the sport he plays, helped nurse him back to health after he got hurt and spent an extra week in LA to be with him longer. And now you’re texting him, again, like you did after we left Chicago. There’s something there, whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe it’s not love yet, but that’s where it’s heading.”

Silence settles over them, just the sound of Gareth’s short nails tapping against the screen of his phone, for a long moment. Eddie processes what he’s said, thinks it over, before flipping back to the text messages from Steve. He reads the words over and over before he decides on an answer.

Eddie: Glad you’re home safe. Miss you already.

He doesn’t have to wait long for a response, as Steve answers no more than two minutes later.

Steve: I miss you already, too, Eds.

Eddie considers responding but decides to tuck the phone back into his pocket instead. He drums his fingers against his knee, settling into a melody before he nudges Gareth’s leg with his foot. 

“Wanna help me set up the studio downstairs while we wait for the food?”

Gareth meets his look, raising an eyebrow. “Inspiration strikes over Steve Harrington?”

“I’ve got, like, four different ideas I started fleshing out in LA without instruments,” Eddie answers instead and ignores the smug look on Gareth’s face as they stand and make their way to the basement Eddie converted into a recording studio to get it ready while their food is delivered.

[anicream]

[theplottdump]

Kāne: But what if it doesn't work? Sunny: Then you'll have failed as a tinkerer forever, wasted a whole summer, drowned me for no reason 𝘈𝘛 𝘈𝘓𝘓, and we'll fire it out of the cannons at some passing fancy pants merchant ship!

Kāne: 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧- Sunny: Just do it already!!

[ record crackling 🎵🐙 ]

🐙🐠🐸

[kidney9-9]

Visions - Peter Parker

@theslayerofthevampires asked: Hey! You asked for requests so here I am:) I was wondering if you could do a Peter Parker x psychic reader one and this could take place around homecoming era where the reader has had the gift of premonitions ever since she was little. She attends school with Peter Parker and friends unaware that he's Spider-Man. One day when she helps Peter pick up something that he dropped and she has a premonition that involves the Peter being trapped under rubble the premonition is so violent that it cause her to faint

Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot. It went kinda long and I cut it off at an odd moment because I wasn't sure how to continue it without it being super long! Thanks for sending this one in :)

Peter Parker x Reader [Fluff and Angst] Warnings: Violence, visions, mention of death, fainting

-

Starting a new school again made your head hurt like hell. You and your family had to move to this new area because of your dad’s job and thankfully, this was supposed to be the last time you guys would move. Hopefully, you’d enjoy this new school you were going to, as a sophomore. It was upsetting that you had to leave your friends once again, after living in your old home for about two years.

Your head was hurting even more than normal, since you started to have more and more premonitions after moving to such a big city. Your dad’s job usually took you all to somewhat remote places. The most remote place you had to live was in a small town in Alaska for about three years, when you were in elementary school.

These premonitions started the night your grandmother passed away. It was awful, the first ever premonition you had was the view of your grandmother’s funeral and you hadn’t known at the time that she had just passed away.

Thankfully, there had been a little box set aside for you from your grandmother that explained why you had this supposed “gift”. It passed onto every other generation of women born in your family, after the last person with the gift had died. You were “blessed” (you had believed yourself to be doomed) with the gift of seeing the future. You would get random visions every day, lasting only a few seconds at a time. Sometimes touching something or someone would trigger a more powerful vision, one where you’d feel like you were really there.

This big new city had been causing you to have visions every other hour of the day, it was terrible.

And this school was huge! You had applied to it when you heard you were moving and thankfully your application was accepted. Each classroom had about 30 people in them, and the courtyard was twice the size of the football field.

The start of the first day was a bore so far. You were in your fourth class, right before lunch, and you stared at the board as the teacher droned on and on about following their rules.

“All borrowed pencils will go back into this container here. I count all my pencils at the beginning and end of class, so please return them. You will need access to a laptop this year for my class, because we will be writing a lot of essays. If you need a laptop, you can always rent one in the library here on campus, using your student ID number. We will also be using a textbook and various online sources, so please look on my syllabus to see which textbook to pick up at the library sometime this week.” He continued and you took a few notes to remember the things he was talking about.

“This is so boring.” Someone whined behind you, and you mumbled back, “Right?” This spurred on a surprised laugh from the person behind you, so you turned around to see who it was.

It was a guy, with dark brown hair parted at his forehead, wearing a graphic t-shirt of an old cartoon character. “I’m Ned, it’s nice to meet you.” He whispered to you, eyes going back and forth from the teacher to you.

You nodded politely and smiled to him, telling him your name, “It’s nice to meet you too. Cool shirt.”

Ned visibly brightened up and you smiled even more back to him. You turned around when you heard your teacher clear his throat and continued the lecture. A few minutes went by and finally the teacher said to introduce yourself and talk with others around the classroom.

You turned your chair around to face Ned and smiled at him again. “Hey, so we have history together. Do you know anything about this class and teacher?” You awkwardly bring up, trying to start a conversation.

“Oh yeah! He’s kind of a jerk when he doesn’t have an energy drink on his desk. And his breath stinks really bad, so prepare yourself if you ever need to talk one on one with him. But I think he lets people choose their own partners in class.” Ned rambles, then looks at your notes, “Wow. You’re prepared! Are you like, good at school? You should join our team for the Academic Decathlon this year!”

You laughed slightly, “I mean, I just write down what seems important and remember the dates.”

“That’s perfect, we’re always looking for new people to join. Are you good with math and science as well?” Ned asked and you nodded.

“I am, I was actually in a math club in my last school.” You shrugged, and Ned’s eyes widened.

“If you join our team, I will literally do anything you want as a favor. Seriously, we only had like 3 girls last year, it’s always good to diversify our team! Please, join. You seem cool too, since you recognized who was on my shirt.” Ned begged, leaning closer to you on his desk.

You let out a surprised laugh, “I’ll think about it. Maybe if I meet more of the members, I’ll join?”

“Stay with me during lunch, I’ll introduce you to my friend Peter! He’s part of the club too. And Liz Allen’s part of the team too if you heard of her.” Ned mentioned.

You shook your head, “I don’t know anyone here. Just know the classmates that sat next to me during class.”

“Oh, okay! Yeah, I think you’ll get along with the rest of the team, they’re pretty nice.” Ned shrugged.

-

You sat next to Ned after grabbing some food. The cafeteria was somewhat busy, but it seemed like everyone was grouped up mostly, and getting ready for Homecoming. You took a bite out of your food as Ned spoke up to someone, as they sat next to him on the bench.

“Oh hey, this is Peter Parker, my friend I was talking about earlier.” He introduced you and Peter together. You smile and wave politely to him, finishing your bite.

“Hi Peter. It’s nice to meet you. You’re on the Academic Decathlon team here?” You started the conversation between the three of you and Ned launched into explaining to Peter how you two met and how he thought you’d do great on the team.

“Yeah! I think the teacher would welcome you on the team anytime during the year, so it doesn’t matter if you’re new. Plus, I think there’s a trip soon, for our competition, so that would be fun. I’m not sure I’ll be there for it, but you should totally go with Ned.” Peter told you and you nodded.

“Oh sweet. I think I’ll join you guys for a meeting then and I’ll see if I like it.” You responded and took a sip of water.

“Why do you keep cancelling things, Peter? It sucks, you’re like my best friend and you’re always going on about your internship. Tony Stark’s gotta let you off the leach sometimes.” Ned complained, noticing Peter’s words about possibly not going on the trip.

“Woah, Tony Stark?” You asked, impressed. Tony Stark didn’t hire high school interns, you had researched that a while ago when you lived somewhere in California. There was a Stark Industries building a few streets away from your old school and you wanted to intern there for a little but was told it wasn’t possible.

Peter must be super smart, you figured, to get an internship at that company.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with that. And I always have to make sure I’m available for Tony Stark whenever. He could need me anytime, so I want to make sure I can help him out.” Peter replied, making Ned pout.

“That’s so annoying. Can’t you like tell Tony to chill out or something?” Ned groaned, rolling his eyes as Peter shook his head.

“I can’t just blow him off like that. And… besides I talk to his assistant, or something more than I talk to Tony since he’s really busy.” Peter huffed out.

“Still, that’s so cool you know him and have an internship. What do you guys do?” You asked, and Peter lit up, starting to talk about robotics and technology he was working on.

“Well, he’s got me reading and learning about MIT’s newest robot. I think he’s working on something with the Avengers too, so we only talk every so often about this stuff.” He brought up and you oohed in interest.

“The Avengers are cool, I heard something’s up with Captain America though. I don’t think we know all the details though, since the news keeps repeating what they’re saying about him.” You said, and Nod hummed in response to your words as he chewed on something.

“I used to think he was awesome until he did those videos for gym classes. Now he’s just some weirdo boomer.” Ned groaned.

Peter laughed, “He’s kind of strong regardless of that.”

-

A few weeks went by as you started to get used to living here. You became friends with Ned and Peter, along with MJ, who had started to tag along whenever you brought her into the conversation. You joined the Academic Decathlon team, and also started to become friends with a few of them there. You mostly hung out with Ned outside of class, going to his place and building some Lego sculptures as you two watched old timey shows on TV.

Peter would sometimes join along, always appearing to be sweaty for some reason. You and Ned would tease him about running errands for Tony Stark, but Peter would brush it off and say he was just busy a lot now. You met his aunt, May, who was such a sweetheart. She had squealed in joy when Peter said you were his friend, which made you all laugh.

“Peter typically only stuck with Ned all the time! I’m just so happy he’s growing up and getting more friends in his life.” May remarked afterwards.

You introduced May to your mom one day since they both had similar interests. May’s job with a charity organization had connected her with one of your relatives out of state, which led to her connecting more with your family and you. It felt like a small world when you found out about her connection!

You, Ned, and Peter (and sometimes MJ) started going to a deli near the school to finish up some homework and then hang out and decide if you guys would go to Ned’s place or Peter’s place, since both you and MJ lived a bit further away from the school.

You got pretty close with MJ, outside of the group when both Ned and Peter would hang out to do stuff together. MJ was someone who really recognized there was something different about you, when she caught onto the fact you’d randomly know if there would be something special about the day.

She had mentioned it in conversation once and then kept quiet about it after you got a little antsy about the fact she was onto your secret.

“Yeah, I see when you blink out of our conversations sometimes and come back looking a bit different. It’s like you went somewhere, didn’t you?” MJ said, to which you quickly laughed loudly and brought up another subject.

She would wink at you whenever you randomly say not to do something or go somewhere. It made your heart jump a little in concern, but it made you happy that she didn’t do anything else about it.

Sometimes, just you and Peter would be hanging out when Ned’s family needed his help with something, and you and Peter would quietly stay together in Ned’s room while he went and helped. It was never awkward, but it felt peaceful and you two got along great.

He talked about Star Wars a lot and even lent you one of his special edition versions of the second original movie. You would bring up a lot of random facts you learned about Star Wars, something you’ve started doing to see if Peter also knew that much about Star Wars, since you were a fan.

Sometimes he would bring up some inventions that he was thinking of. When you responded once to one of his ramblings about making something stretchy and sticky, with “Isn’t that what Spiderman uses?”, he turned red and apologized about being nerdy with science.

You didn’t think he needed to apologize for something that seemed to make him genuinely happy, and when you said that he laughed and said it was a bit of a habit. He seemed to talk more about stuff that made him happy after that and smiled more openly around you.

-

You had an appointment today to talk about moving your English class to an Advanced Placement English class with your counselor, which was lucky because Peter had an appointment with the same counselor today as well. You both walked together to the office, and you sat down outside the counselor’s office while Peter walked in first since he had his appointment before you.

You pulled out your phone to scroll through as you waited. After ten minutes or so, you glanced up at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

“Okay Peter, you seriously have to consider at least hanging onto a few extracurricular clubs if you want to be taken seriously for consideration of a scholarship to Ivy League schools. I know you have your internship with Stark Industries, but you should keep your options open.” The counselor spoke up loudly as the door opened.

You stood up when the door opened, smiling at Peter as he walked out the door. He looked a bit upset, but still smiled back, “Your turn. I’ll wait here for you.”

You nodded silently, wondering if he was alright. You’d speak to him after your appointment. The counselor welcomed you in by saying your name.

“Hi, it’s good to finally see you again after emailing you a few weeks ago. So, how are you settling in? Do you like it here?” She asked as you sat down, and the door closed again. You shifted in the chair as you set your bag down on the floor.

“It’s going well, I like it here. I’m actually friends with Peter.” You nodded back towards the door, and she smiled in understanding.

“Aw, I’m glad you guys get along. I see here you’re also in the Academic Decathlon as him. Are you enjoying that? I think there’s a trip in two weeks! Are you going?” She asked a few questions and you fiddled with your fingers as you answered.

“Oh yeah, I’m going there and yeah, it’s really fun. Everyone’s pretty sweet in the group.” You answered back.

“Well, I’m happy to hear you’re settling in nicely. So, you wanted to move classes to a higher placement? I thought I saw you had a little trouble with reading in your file, do you feel ready to move to a higher class?” She asked, and you almost flinched at the question, being reminded of your visions. They happened more often while you were reading, and during school, that caused a few problems.

“Oh, it’s getting better, I think I can handle it. I just have a little trouble with reading out loud sometimes, I have trouble focusing on the words.” You explained, avoiding outright telling her the reason why you had trouble with that.

“Okay, well we can always have accommodations be made for you if that ever becomes a problem in the classroom, but I think it’s good we met up, so we understand where you want to go now. I’ll place you in the advanced class and I’ll email you in about a week to check in on how it’s going. I’ll send you your new classroom number and your new teacher’s email address. You’ll start going to the new English class tomorrow, does that sound good?” She spoke and you nodded along to what she said.

“Yeah, thank you. That’s all good!” You responded happily.

“Well, I think that’s it for this meeting. Thank you for coming in, I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need anything or want anything, dear. It was nice to meet you.” She said as you started to get up.

“Okay, thank you again. Bye!” You started to leave but she quickly gasped, “Oh wait! I forgot, give this paper to Peter for me, please. Thank you again.”

You took the paper she was holding and walked out the door, smiling politely at her. You didn’t look down at the paper, fearing it was something private and only for Peter, so you gazed up and walked towards the chair Peter was sitting in.

You hold the paper out in front of you as Peter gets up from the chair. “Hey, did it go good?” He asked, as you hand him the paper.

“Yeah, I got into the class I wanted.” You nodded, then added on, “Oh yeah, she wanted to give this to you, she forgot to give it to you before you left.”

Peter blinks down at the paper and sighs, then drags his bag down his shoulder, onto his arm and opens up the zipper.

“Shoot. I got to show this to Aunt May.” He said as he grabbed a folder from his bag, He flimsily opened it and started to put the paper into the folder. Just then, the door opened loudly from the other side of the office, causing Peter to flinch and drop his folder and papers.

He groaned loudly and leaned down, and you leaned down with him, helping him pick his stuff up. “Oh, is this all the stuff to study from the team?” You asked, seeing a few papers about some subjects’ you guys have been studying for.

You pick up one of the papers and hand it over to him, his fingers sliding against yours as he accepted the paper and your eyes glazed over as a vision hit you when you were unprepared. You stayed frozen in the moment, trying to blink off the vision but none of that worked, especially since it hit you so strongly this time.

At first, all you saw was darkness and heard deep rumbling and cracks, then you refocused your eyesight, blinking at what appeared to be a person struggling underneath rubble. You gasped as you walked forward in the vision, noticing it was Peter, your friend. He was stuck, struggling, and heaving as a piece of huge concrete laid atop him.

“I gotta get out of this, I gotta…” Peter gasped, over and over again, trying to breathe in fresh air. Blood was leaking down his face, and he was slurring his words, and you knelled down near him, your heart pounding harder than ever before.

“Peter!” You cried out, trying to help him but you couldn’t, you were ghost like in your visions. Your vision turned black, as if staring at the ocean during a dark night, waves of worry hitting you.

Your body hit the floor before Peter could even react, absolutely surprising and worrying him as your body lay down. Your eyes were closed, and you were incredibly pale, looking sickly. Peter quickly dropped his things, calling out your name as he picked you up.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The counselor gasped loudly, as she stepped into the room.

Peter shrugged, feeling panicked, “I think she fainted! Can I take her to the nurse?” He looked down at you, softly putting his hand near your wrist to check your heartrate. He sighed in relief to see it was mostly normal, just a little lower than an average teen’s heartrate.

“Of course, please do.” The counselor responded and Peter picked you up completely, leaving his stuff on the floor for later.

He took you to the nurse’s office as fast as he could, putting you on one of the beds in the corner of the room. He explained what happened to the nurse as he started to freak out a little more, sitting down next to your bed.

“Should I do anything to help? Can I call her mom? I know her, she’s really good friends with my Aunt. Is she going to be, okay? Can I stay here with her during class? I don’t want to leave her alone, especially if she’s hurt.” Peter rambled, putting his hand near yours and holding onto it tightly. He didn’t want to let go, he was worried.

The nurse sighed, “Well, you can stay, go ahead, and call her mom for me. She should be fine. It sounds like she might have just had a little fainting spell. Maybe she has really low blood sugar, but we’ll know when she wakes up.”

Peter thanked the nurse and called your mom, explaining what happened. In the meantime, you slowly started to wake up, still reeling from what you saw.

“Peter!” You gasped as you started to fully wake up, and he squeezed your hand softly, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

You felt horrible and scared for him, your eyes searched up and down his face, trying to see if there was any blood there, but you knew it was going to happen in the future. You were terrified. “Are you okay?” You still had to ask, still scared by what you saw.

“Wait – what, of course I’m okay! Are you? You fainted! Do you need some water? I called your mom and she’s coming by to pick you up from school so you can stay at home. Are you feeling alright?” He rambled, face slowly red from not breathing in.

“Mm, good. You need to stay safe. I’m okay, just… tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You lied to him. His face contorted worriedly, as he squeezed your hand once more and you tried to smile at him.

“I promise I’m okay Peter.” You wanted to say it was him that would not be okay, that he needed to stay safe, but you couldn’t. You were glad your mom was coming to pick you up. She was one of the only people that understood your visions.

She didn’t have them, but having grown up with her mom having visions, she knew what they were, and understood that they were passed on through the family. In fact, she was probably going to ask you once you guys were in private if things were okay and if you guys needed to do anything.

There was only two other times your visions had helped prevent tragedies and emergencies.

The first time was when there was an earthquake in California when you and your family lived there, and the vision warned you that the large tree in your backyard would collapse against the house and severely injure you and your dad. You had the vision eight days before the earthquake, and you all made sure to be away from where the majority of the earthquake would hit.

The second was during your cousin’s first birthday party, where she had reached out and grabbed the lit candle off the cake and dropped it into a bush, where a large fire started and caused an explosion in your uncle’s house. You got that vision after touching the birthday invitation note, ten days before it happened.

They both terrified you and your family. And you were so very grateful that you guys managed to avoid it.

You hoped you’d be able to prevent this from happening. You tried to look for clues of your vision to see where it happened and when it would happen, but you hadn’t really gotten over the shock. You’d look over it when you could, but for now you couldn’t really recall the details.

You really didn’t want Peter to get hurt so badly like this. And since this was such a big city, it probably would hurt multiple people, instead of just Peter. You were terrified.

You blinked back into focus when Peter said your name, and you looked over at him. “You good? I’m really worried about you. You seem really sick.” He asked worriedly.

You shook your head, “It’s fine, I promise. Thank you, Peter. Really, thank you for helping me and bringing me here. You’re a good person.”

He blushed slightly as he gazed back at you, “Of course. I know we just met this year, but we’ve become really close, so I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I care about you, you know?”

You felt your heart flutter slightly at his kind words, “I really care about you too. You’re special to me.” His eyes widened at that, and his hand unknowingly went slack in yours, and you quickly added on, “Uh, you and Ned and MJ… yeah. Really special.”

He quickly smiled softly to your words, but his eyes seemed a little duller than they did a moment ago. “Yeah, of course. I feel the same way about you. And them too, I guess.” He shrugged at the end silly, causing you to chuckle just a bit.

A knock at the door caused both you and Peter to look over, to see your mom walk in. You grinned at her as she came in, and silently nodded back to her when you saw the silent question in her eyes.

She signed you out of school for the day at the nurse’s desk, “Thank you for taking care of her.” She said to the nurse, but she snorted and pointed over to Peter.

“This boy here is the one that really cared for her. They’re so sweet, what a lovely couple.” The nurse said sweetly, and you coughed as Peter’s hand moved out of yours swiftly.

“We’re not a couple!” You yelped out at the same time Peter said, “Not together!”

Your mom and the nurse laughed at the two of you. “Oh, it’s alright, either way, you guys seem close. I’m glad my daughter has met someone so kind.” She said to Peter in a grateful tone.

Peter’s ears turned red at your mom’s words, and he nodded back, “Oh yeah, she’s kind too.”

“Hm, well anyway, say goodbye to Peter. I’m taking you home to rest. I can tell you need some rest.” Your mom said towards you, and you nodded and glanced over to Peter as you slowly got up from the bed. He helped you up, using his hand to support your back as you stood up.

“Thank you again. You’re really sweet. I’ll see you tomorrow maybe. I’m not sure if I’ll go to school tomorrow.” You spoke in a low volume to Peter, who smiled sweetly at you. You wanted to reach out and hug him, but you held off.

“Yeah, it’s no problem and text me after you get some rest! I’ll tell Ned and MJ you went home today.” He responded. You and your mom left the office after a few more moments, and Peter watched as you left.

He couldn’t help but worry about you, wondering why you fainted. He was scared to see you look so sick at that moment. It was also at that moment that he realized how much he really cared for you, much more than a friend would care. Either way, he was happy you went home to rest. He just hoped you’d feel better soon.

[mars-wuz-herez]

“We did it Shadow! We saved everyone”

I turn to face the planet we just saved. It’s full of so much life. A memory plays in my head, where we would sit in front of a giant window and she would tell me about the beauty of earth. The wonders, the oceans, the life everything that made earth such a gorgeous planet. And after everything I saw, she wasn’t wrong. It truly was a beautiful planet.

If only she was here to see it.

My vision of the planet slowly blurs and I feel my eye lids getting heavy. So tired…

“Shadow!”

I feel arms quickly grab my waist.

“Shadow what’s wrong? Why is your super form fading?”

“My body…it can’t handle so much…”

My eyes are slowly closing. They are doing it before I even notice it. The grip around my waist tightens as I feel myself getting heavier and heavier.

“Hey hey hey stay with me. Everything is going to be okay. We’ll make it back please just hang on”

I force one eye open. I can see his super form is fading, his quills slowly turning back blue. He’s struggling.

We’re not going to make it.

He’s not going to make it

“Hedgehog…let go of me. You’re not going to make it carrying me”

“No! We’ll make it. I know we will just please hang on just for a little longer…”

I close my eyes and when I open them again. His quills are quickly fading back to his normal blue.

“Faker save yourself. Don’t die saving me. I’m not worth it and you know it”

“Don’t say that. Your life matters and if I have to die to save it then so be it. In the end I know it was worth it”

I smile at that. It’s nice to know that someone else cares about me. But I know what I must do.

“Sonic”

There are tears in those emerald eyes as he looks at me. I cup his cheek and wipe the tears going down his face. I pull him closer and our lips meet. The kiss is everything I imagined it to be and much more. I pull away.

“Forgive me…”

“What?”

I push myself off him and start falling. Fast. I hear him yelling, crying out my name. I’m sorry Sonic. But I won’t have anyone else die for me, not again. It’s selfish I know but I hope one day you’ll forgive me for doing this. My eyes shut and then it’s nothing but darkness……

“NO!”

I feel two arms wrap around me. I slightly open my eye to see Sonic. He’s hugging me and the last of his super form is fading away.

“I made a promise to you Shadow. You aren’t alone not this time. I’m staying with you until the very end”

I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. I close my eyes and all I can feel is the warmth of his hug. The darkness takes over and then everything goes black.

Part two!

[rad-roche]

Hello! I just read both of your novels in one day. To say I am heartbroken would be an absolute understatement. I am honestly haunted by the ending of DWW, which I was completely unable to anticipate because I know nothing about the noir genre... What do you think Nick does next, after that ending? Does he go home and keep working as a detective? Does he jump off a bridge?? Does he keep living until he forgets Gloria and everything about her? I can't even imagine...

aww thank you for reading!! both in one day, wow, thank you! i'm glad it resonated emotionally, i know it's kind of a big swing. as for what nick does after dead woman walking ends, i've been very careful never to land or say anything specific. the nature of it being something i've written means that thing i think happens may end up being thing that does happen, if that makes sense. i wanted to keep it very open-ended. with that being said, here are some things i considered while i was planning it out. feel free to disregard any of these totally and come up with your own

option 1: nick is bleeding heavily on the boat ride out of far harbor. he refuses kasumi's help and dies

option 2: nick accepts her help and lives. he returns to diamond city and is forced into retirement on account of his injuries, but still enjoys work as a consultant and teaching at the school. he lives out the rest of his days with friends until parts are impossible to source, and eventually succumbs to old age. in that time, he never loves again

option 3: nick returns to diamond city, but circumstances on top of being based on the brain scan of a suicidal man prove to be too much to handle. he takes his own life

option 4: something i hadn't considered but maybe you have! i love to hear people's thoughts on what he does after. you'll note mine are all pretty depressing, but such is the power of noir. i've seen some pretty optimistic takes

one thing i will say is that it's impossible for nick to forget gloria. the way it's set up in the story is that the newest memories slowly fold over older ones, and nick is already pretty near the end of his lifespan by the time we meet him in dead man talking. it's a little bittersweet, but he can't forget the good OR the bad. he simply doesn't have enough time left

thanks for reading!

[fictionalsownme]

More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream. 

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave. 

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door. 

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first. 

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season. 

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him… 

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons. 

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so. 

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different. 

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.” 

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!” 

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?” 

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.” 

Thought so? Maybe you did know him… 

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you? 

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?” 

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers. 

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s. 

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away. 

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together. 

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice. 

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…” 

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there. 

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling. 

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him. 

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm. 

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice. 

 “Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that. 

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

 “That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile. 

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered. 

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing. 

“What a wonderful idea…” 

God, his eyes… 

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.” 

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.” 

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone.  Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

[weevmo]

I Have A KO-FI Now!

With some Hi-Res downloads and supporter-only sneaky behind- the-scenes art (Plus WIPS!) If possible and if you enjoy my content consider supporting my art efforts! Things are a bit rough right now and I'd love to keep making for-fun art.

ALSO Updates on Corduroy Stew Progress will be placed here as KMODO and I get it rolling!

[giggly-squiggily]

Caught In The Smoke (My Hero Academia)

Heyo! I wrote this little ol' fic for the wonderful @cupcake-spice13 a while back and- much like the fic from earlier this week- forgot to post it! Hehe, it's been one of those weeks y'all. Anywho- I hope y'all like it! :D

CW: Swearing

Summary: Dabi finds Hawks during a fight for a quick chat. In the process of that, he discovers something quite interesting about the bird man.

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022 @backy-san @nutzgunray-lvt @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo

“No! Nohoohohohohoho, wait plhehehehhehhahhhhse!”

“Aww, can’t take it, birdy?” Dabi’s voice was a low rumble, close enough to his ear so no one else could hear him. “Such a proud hero, taken down by a few flicks of my fingers. Come on birdie, sing me a song~”

~~20 Minutes Earlier~~

“Hawks, MOVE!” Endeavor called out, the only warning the Number 2 hero received before a flaming tin soared their way. With a leap and shout, Hawks was in the air, just narrowly avoiding the explosion that followed. His vision was filled with smoke tinged with blue, choking his lungs and making his eyes water. 

“Shit- Endeavor? Endeavor, where are you?” Hawks yelled, trying to find a beacon of red among the smoke. There was the faint sound of screaming- civilians. He needed to get to them- he needed to help them escape-

“Where are you going, birdy?” A new voice purred from behind. Hawks twisted- finding none other than Dabi standing among the smoke. “Surely you aren’t planning on running away so soon?”

“Miss me already?” Hawks pulled out a sword of feathers, readying the blade. “And here I had the impression you didn’t like me that much.” He shot forward, sliding under a blaze of flames that Dabi released. The sword caught fire almost immediately, burning into a crisp before fading into ash. Alright- no weapons then. We’re doing this barehanded.

“Possibly.” Dabi’s lips pulled into a grin as he evaded Hawk’s various attacks, dodging flying kicks and fists. “Figured since I was in the area I might as well surprise you.”

“You really shouldn’t have.” Hawks ducked down to kick his feet out- but the clog of smoke was thick, and his swipe was too short. “Most people prefer flowers as their surprise- not exploding tins of oil.”

“Good thing we’re not most people.” Dabi grabbed his ankle, yanking once. Hawks slipped, his hands scraping into gravel and cooling tar as the flame-villain dragged him over. “Come here, Birdie. We’ve got quite a bit to talk about.”

“Flattered, but I’d prefer candlelight dinner to this.” Hawks twisted to his belly, readying his wings. A flick of them will send the gust away- giving Endeavor the chance he needed to attack. “Why don’t you ask me on a proper date next time, eh Hot Stuff?”

“Now now- what’s the rush?” Dabi’s hand shot down to Hawk’s wings, pushing down slightly. “Ready to leave so soon-”

“EEH!”

Both of them paused. It suddenly seemed like the chaos around them faded away as they both took in the sound Hawks let out. Dabi blinked, eyes wide. Hawks felt his face burn.

“Oh wow.” Dabi finally spoke, something sly and mischievous in his tone. “What do we have here?”

“N-Nothing!” Hawks yelped trying to wiggle forward, but a knee to his lower back kept him there. “Nothing at all! St-Stay back!”

“Nothing? Then why do you sound so nervous?” Dabi teased softly, his voice close as fingers began slowly walking up Hawks spine, starting at the curve of his hips to the dreaded spot between his shoulder blades; just where the base of his wings sat. “I think you’re hiding something from me birdie; and you know how I get when secrets are brought up.”

“This is hahahrdly the time for that!” Hawks barely held back a giggle when the fingers against his back rested directly between his wings, tapping softly. “Leheheht me up, we chahan talk about it lahahhater!”

“Hm…no. I wanna talk about it now.” Dabi smirked. “Come on, let’s see just how ticklish you really are.”

~~Current Time~~

Endeavor wheezed around the thick fog of smoke, waving it away from his vision as he searched for Hawks. He heard him yell out, he couldn’t be that far. “Hawks! Hawks were are-”

“EEEH!”

The high pitched noise made him freeze, spinning on his heels. That was Hawks for sure- did he get hurt in the explosion? The civilians were escorted out- it had to be him. He charged forward. “HAWKS-”

What he witnessed left him speechless.

“Ahehahahahhaha! Nohoohohohoho! Nohooohohh, sthahahhahaap ihihihihihihit!” Hawks was on the ground, kicking and flailing like a child having a tantrum. Above him sat a figure, his face hidden by the smoke. What wasn’t hidden was his hands, currently massaging the space between the Pro-Hero’s wings like a trained masseuse. “Geheheheheht oohohohoohohff!”

What the actual- Endeavor blinked, shaking his head. Was this person a villain? Were they the cause of all this? And if so…why tickling? Was he trying to get information?

He should run over there- swat away this supposed tickle villain; capture him for interrogation. That’s what a number 1 hero does, right?

And yet…seeing Hawks on the ground laughing so hard, his face red as a beet and cheeks dimpled…it was an oddly wholesome sight. Satisfying even, given how Hawks was constantly finding ways to get under his skin. He hoped the smoke hid his grin as he shook his head; amazed by the sight.

Hawks eyes shot to him, widening some when they met Endeavors. “Yohoohhoohohhou! Nohohoohohho, lohoohohoohohohk aawhhahhahahahhahy!” He cried, face flushing an even deeper shade of red. He tried to hide his face, but this mysterious attacker dug their hands into his armpits, making him arch with a squeal. “ENDHEHEHEHEHVOR HEHEHHEELP!”

Snapping out of his reverie, Endeavor nodded. Right- middle of a fight. He shot his arms out, sending a burst of fire overhead.

~~~

“Shows over. Gotta go, Birdie.” Dabi, watching the smoke start to fade, smirked down at the giggly hero. In a rare show of fondness, he leaned forward, kissing the top of Hawk’s head before climbing off. “Find me later.”

The smoke cleared, leaving Hawks lying across the pavement with the ghost of Dabi’s lips against his hair. He winced when Endeavor’s feet came to view, slowly peeking up at him with a flushed face. “Dohoohhn’t say…a woohohohrd.”

Endeavor, to his credit, stayed silent. Even if his lips were twitching with restrained mirth. Even when he averted his gaze to hide a chuckle with a stern cough. Even as he helped Hawks up to his feet, his hand “accidentally” brushed against his wings, making him jump with a squeak.

“Are you a-alright?” He grunted, taking a short breath. Hawks glared, hoping it would hide his mortification. “Not hurt?”

“Besides my ego? Nah. Though these are gonna sting.” He held up his hands, wincing at the red lashes against his skin. “Is there any way we can leave out…that?”

“I’ll just say you were unconscious due to the smoke.” Endeavor concluded as they made their way back to their randevu point. “On one condition- you stop making dumb jokes about me for the next few weeks.”

“What?...Okay fine.” Hawks gave in, wings tucked firmly against his back. “Hey erm…thanks, Enji.”

“Anytime.”

Thanks for reading!

[mynamesaplant]

Friendship Smells like Pizza and Laundry Detergent

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

Japanese is not my native language, so if I've made any errors please let me know. Also, I'm sorry for the phonetic spelling for Clay in advance.

Don't like to read on Tumblr? Read it here on AO3.

Enjoy!~

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Tonight was the night.

Elesa was coming over for a sleep over.

Drayden would have found it amusing that his nephews were running all around his house preparing for their friend’s arrival, but they were quite particular about how they wanted the house to look, and it was turning his house upside down. Already the linen cupboard and beds were ransacked for every sheet, blanket, comforter, and pillow that he owned. All around him, the boys meticulously constructed a pillow fort, and it took every ounce of willpower in his body to ask them not to make such a mess of his living room.

He sucked it up. They were excited their friend was coming over – their only friend.

Listening to Ingo’s meandering request to have their friend over for a sleep over, Drayden could tell this meant a lot to them. Even Emmet, who was hard pressed to pipe up his opinions to him was bobbing his head along in time with his brother’s speech and offered stilted yeps to emphasize his brother’s points, eyes glittering with such hope that it physically pained the Dragon master to say no.

“Verrrrry good!”

Emmet chirped, crawling out by the tv, which also had a sheet over it. They had tried to put a quilt over it and Drayden pointedly told them no. Although not the newest model by a long shot (he hadn’t been able to be as frivolous with his money since his nephews had been dumped come to live with him), he didn’t want to risk the television falling over and breaking, or worse injuring one of the kids. Emmet and Ingo were exceedingly careful with everything in the house, they treated everything like glass with a steady mantra of ‘safety first’ that he was sure would be seared into his brain for the remainder of his days.

With this one exception, the twins frequently kept to themselves and their own possessions, either roaming his property, Anville Town, or in the woods just outside town. This brief and altogether understandable lapse of judgement Drayden could overlook – just this once.

“Ingo, are the snacks secured?”

“Affirmative!”

Ingo moved into his periphery with an armload of bags, ducking beneath the patchwork fort to deposit them, and the other was bouncing on the balls of his feet, working out his excitement through movement. Drayden watched this all go down from his armchair that he had dragged out of the way for them to build, steely eyes glancing over the top of his drooping newspaper every so often. The boys surveyed their work, beaming in their own ways at the admittedly impressive arrangement.

“Please try not to spill anything on to the carpet.”

Their uncle rumbled and they both assured him that that would not happen. They had already planned for any accidents by retrieving a towel and handheld vacuum to clean up any messes that were inadvertently created.

“We shan’t.”

Ingo promised and Drayden grumbled something unintelligible behind the rag, staring at the same article he’d been reading about the delays for the new rail lines out of Nimbasa. Something about permits and a minor scandal with the head of transportation using Pokémon laborers that weren’t native to Unova.

Warm weight settled against his legs and Drayden lowered the paper to his lap, narrowly avoiding Emmet and Ingo as they stared up at him. He braces himself because he knows this look – although it was not presented in this double whammy form – and it usually came with an out of the ordinary request.

“Yes?”

“We would like to request three pizzas tonight because we are not sure if Elesa will like the toppings we like.”

Drayden had to bite his tongue because nobody liked the toppings the twins liked. Most children didn’t like white pizza with broccoli or Alolan style – but Emmet and Ingo did.

“You’re not going to eat three pizzas worth of pizza. It’s bad for you.” Not to mention all the junk food that they bought in preparation for the sleepover. They’re kids Drayden, he told himself, they’re excited and their eyes are literally bigger than their stomachs in this case.

Compromise.

“I’ll get you some personal pizzas. How does that sound?”

They looked positively ecstatic.

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The bedraggled looking man who escorted his young daughter to his door had a glassy look to his eyes, waving to his daughter as she offered Drayden a polite bow and foreign greeting to Drayden before tearing over to Emmet and Ingo. Her Blitzle tottered in after her cautiously with a red backpack draped over the Pokémon’s back. If Drayden had to guess from the flared nostrils and the darting eyes, the small equine creature could smell the Druddigon lurking in his room on the second floor and was nervous. His Druddigon was too well trained to attack, but smaller Pokémon tended to get nervous around most dragons.

“Thank you for having my daughter over.”

Drayden had almost forgotten the man was there, so small and quiet as to be completely unnoticeable. His voice was flat, almost toneless, which reminded Drayden of Emmet, who had a hard time conveying his emotion through his words unlike his brother. This man sounded exhausted.

“Sure…”

There was an uncomfortable pause as the man blinked at him, Drayden almost thought he wouldn’t supply his name – instead, just pass out in his doorway.

“Rin Kamitsure.”

“Drayden Gray.”

Rin’s torso was already bending forward, clearly a reflex he had developed from a lifetime of practice before he jerked to a stop. His arm lurched up, perfectly straight to the point of looking uncomfortable, holding out his hand and staring expectantly for Drayden to take it.

The handshake was cold, absolutely nothing friendly to the stiff fingers, and went on for far too long, neither of them seemed capable of breaking the shake first.

“さようならお父さん.”

Rin’s daughter’s voice sounded flinty, almost as though she was annoyed that he was still there. If her father noticed the chill to her voice, he didn’t acknowledge it, although Drayden guessed he most certainly did not from the slow way he let go of the Dragon master’s hand.

“Bye Ellie.”

He nodded to Drayden and trudged back up the walkway and down the street. When he turned around to face the children, Emmet and Ingo were thumbing through some books while the girl scribbled feverishly on a whiteboard. With her tongue stuck between her teeth, she was scribbling symbols that were unfamiliar to Drayden with careful strokes of the marker before her hands moved in a flurry before her. That he recognized as sign. The boys had been practicing together. This girl must have been the reason.

The signing was actually helping his nephews a lot, each had their own unique challenges with how they communicated with the world around them, and signing was helping them bring a different option for verbalizing their thoughts and feelings. Emmet in particular was fast to pick it up, his lack of inflection was made up for by his expressive features, which helped emphasis his signing. Ingo’s language was emotional from the word go, but his face was like stone, that’s where his gesticulations and other body language helped him articulate his sign better.

Drayden never could read either unless they told him how they felt. It also didn’t help that the brothers were so in sync with one another that they often left their uncle metaphorically scrambling to catch up to understand them.

“Oh! Elesa, you must meet our uncle.” Ingo insisted, ushering her over to him where she bowed again. Her face scrunched and she glanced toward his nephews, Emmet silently mouthing the words ‘hello sir’ while Ingo announced that this was their goof friend Elesa. “She moved here recently with her father from Sinnoh.”

“Hello… sir?”

She said slowly, watching Emmet mouth the words one more time, before looking up at Drayden. Most children found him intimidating between his stature and inscrutable expression, but this little girl looked him in the eye with nothing short of fierce determination. She refused to be intimidated. That made him smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

Ingo frantically flipped through the pages of the book still in his hand and squinted at the page – dear Reshiram, was Ingo going to need glasses soon? Yet another thing to add to the ever-growing list of things he didn’t sign up for but found himself doing. The text was inches from his nose,

“はじめまして.”

It must have been a translation into Kantonese and Elesa gingerly corrected his pronunciation. Drayden had prepared to get virtually no sleep tonight because the kids would be loud, but it appeared he had nothing to worry about.

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Their uncle said he would be in his study if they needed anything after ordering their pizzas for the kids and Bouffalant burger for himself. He handed Ingo some money to tip the driver and reiterated to be careful with any food and drinks on the carpet.

Ingo offered him a smile, something that made Drayden’s heart warm a little because that did not always sync up properly with his eyes to make the expression seem so genuine. He truly wished he felt that way more often, but that kernel of resentment he felt for Kaita and Lucielle – especially Kaita. His sister all but dumped her sons on him, their parents too elderly to look after them and Lucielle’s father rendered incapable of care due to dementia.

His burgeoning career nearly came to a screeching halt when Emmet and Ingo were unceremoniously dropped into his life, Drayden was lucky he had such good friends like Clay and Lenora who offered him endless support and advice.

------

“s’not their fault, ye can’t blame ‘em fer what their mas did.”

Clay had told him, taking a long pull on his cigar just as Drayden stamped out his half-smoked cigarette. A habit he had only recently picked up and was not trying too hard to quit. The clove scented smoke soothed his nerves like nothing else could these days.

“Be patient. Kids like them can have a hard time expressing themselves.”

Lenora advised when Drayden came to her with the twins’ charts, panicked because he wasn’t sure he would be able to sufficiently take care of children like Emmet and Ingo. Audiobook and podcast recommendations always arrived in his emails when he felt the weight of the situation suffocating him.

------

He was glad he listened to her because they had bloomed into such wonderful boys.

Although that bitterness was still rooted in his heart, he did his very best to never expose it to Emmet and Ingo, because they had done nothing to earn his ire. It shamed Drayden to no end that sometimes it did come out in the form of hands-off parenting, in his absence where his nephews needed a parent (one which he was never quite prepared to be).

Drayden did the unthinkable and lightly tousled Ingo’s hair, reminding him to get the door when the delivery driver came, and to give the driver their tip. When he removed his hands, Ingo’s eyes were round and shining, his mouth was slightly open as he looked up at his uncle. His nephew managed a nod, lifting his hands to pat his hair, and slowly made his way back to his brother and their friend.

About thirty minutes later their pizzas arrived and all three kids pelted toward the door, lurking just over Ingo’s shoulder like hungry Sharpedo in anticipation. A chorus of ‘thank yous’ sent the delivery driver on her way, grinning a little at the kids as the door closed. With the personal pizzas divvied up properly, the trio clambered into the fort and settled in for the preselected documentary.

Tynamo and Blitzle were under there, already snoozing as the kids ate and watched the screen transfixed with the visuals. Emmet and Ingo had selected a documentary about Unova, selecting Kantonese subtitles for Elesa so she didn’t have to rely on the audio. Although it wasn’t their preference – that was reserved for trains and professional battling – the boys chose this documentary to help acquaint Elesa to the unfamiliar region she found herself in. She didn’t really seem to have an interest in Unova at all, so they wanted to change that.

To them, Unova was the most beautiful place in the whole world, but admittedly, they hadn’t been to many places. Galar sounded amazing, but Emmet and Ingo had to acknowledge that they were biased because there were just so many trains there – so it had to be amazing, right?

They had come to love Unova through the pictures and trinkets that their mothers sent to them. Glass paperweights that contained stylized Frillish suspended in a permanent bubble from Humilau. Frayed ticket stubs from the sports arenas in Nimbasa. Luminous crystals that refracted a thousand tiny rainbows, and still contained a little bit of static hidden in their crystalline depths, from Chargestone Cavern. Pressed flowers and leaves that still smelled as fresh as the day they were picked from Pinwheel Forest. Vibrant, but uncomfortable t-shirts advertising the famous Casteliacone alongside the stand’s Vanilluxe mascot, Mochi.

But their most prized possession? Two slightly tarnished, golden subway tokens with a stamp of the front of Gear Station on one side and the NTA symbol on the other. The transit system operated on automated cards and scanners and digital tickets nowadays, but these? These things were ancient. Mom had found them and sent them back with burgundy lipstick smudged at the bottom by their names.

Found in an antique shop a few blocks from the station. A set soon to follow, my loves.

The train set had never come, so Emmet and Ingo learned to be satisfied with the tokens.

“エ��ンガ?”

Elesa jerked forward with her eyes wide while she gesticulated at the screen with a ferocity that made the Pokémon wake with a start. Blitzle nickered softly, stretching his neck to rest on Elesa’s knee and nuzzling her skirt until her hand came to stroke his flank absently. Tynamo flitted over to Emmet, tucking himself into the loose collar of his trainer’s sweater and buzzing Emmet with a faint electrical charge.

A pair of Emolga were skittering across the screen; chittering and squeaking while they darted through the trees of Lostlorn Forest without a care in the world at the humans filming them. The next shot cut to two males with their hackles raised and massive incisors displayed in their yawning maws, the smaller one was getting bullied out of the other male’s territory. Another shot took the documentary to a whole tree hollow full of feathery down, fur, leaves, and dry grass with small, glittering black Emolga eyes blinking back at the lens.

Elesa covered her mouth to stifle a little noise of adoration, unwittingly leaning forward with undisguised interest at the flying squirrels that plagued the whole of Unova. Emolga were few and far between in Anville Town compared to the rest of the region, they were more at home in the trees, which their hometown lacked to accommodate the rail yard and its acres of track.

“I… love…”

Elesa said the words slowly, feeling how the Galarian syllables felt in her mouth. It sounded like such a mouth full compared to 好きだ. The name of the Pokémon sat fresh in her mind as she watched them on the screen, so carefree and happy that it made her smile softly with a fondness she thought she only held for Pachirisu.

“エモンガ. Eh- what… is エモンガ?”

Emmet and Ingo exchanged looks, although they didn’t understand Kantonese, and they were at times hard pressed to understand other people’s thoughts and feelings, Elesa was telegraphing all they needed to know with how her blue eyes stared with longing at the screen.

“Emolga.”

Emmet said slowly and watched Elesa incline her head, acknowledging that she had heard him but not looking his way.

“Emolga…”

She repeated the word, drawing out each sound as she heard it from Emmet’s lips. They sat in silence for a moment, the documentary had moved on to Venipedes and their natural instinct to curl up when in danger.

“They’re delightful little scamps.”

Ingo finally said, putting down his slice of pizza on a neat square of paper towel and scratching his cheek, hesitating on even bringing it up when Emmet piped up.

“Mom has one. Her name is Daisy. She likes to groom mom’s Stoutland’s coat. Brutus likes that verrrrry much.”

Ingo pursed his lips, balling his hands up in his lap, waiting for the question that inevitably came up when anyone heard about their mothers. Uncle Drayden rarely spoke about them, only passing off the mail that one or both had sent to their sons. People were curious to say the least when Drayden suddenly had two boys in his home and when their guardian didn’t satisfy their curiosity, it meant Emmet and Ingo were often asked directly.

“Where are your mothers?”

Emmet would stare at the ground, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands, and Ingo would go unusually quiet, fumbling for words because he didn’t know what to say. Their mothers dropped them off here one day and they hadn’t seen them since, plenty of letters and trinkets, but never their mothers.

They didn’t know why. They tried to be good kids. They tried to be the best kids. They got good grades. They never caused trouble. They always did their chores and took care of the Pokémon.

It must not have been enough for them to stay.

Emmet shifted on the spot, tapping his nails against the plastic cup to fill the silence, and wordlessly murmuring something under his breath. Ingo knew it was the train schedules in and out of the rail yard. Emmet recited them when he said or did something that he didn’t realize was uncomfortable.

If Elesa noticed the weird pause, she didn’t mention anything, but she did say,

“I… want… one. Emolga.”

The moment of tension passed, and the twins felt like they could breathe again. They didn’t know that Elesa felt those same things about parents and had just as hard of a time putting those feelings into words. For now, they didn’t have to talk about it. They didn’t have to do anything, but sit back, eat pizza, and go to sleep late into the night in a castle of blankets that smelled like fresh laundry detergent.

“Have no fear! We will locate a nest and you can catch as many Emolga as you want.”

“Yep yep! A whole team!”

Elesa caught maybe every other word, but her mouth curled and her eyes crinkled at the excited murmurings of her two friends.

[eiochevart]

My Hero of Legend will be getting his own story 👀

….sorta.

You’ll see!

I’ve decided to make a separate sideblog for this story, you can find it at @alinkthroughtheages

I will bring you more updates the coming days:)