#the only reason i haven’t posted about rust yet is because he’s part of a really convoluted and multi phase story/au and i can’t decide

[elizakai]

He’s so pretty🥺

uhm ahem yes this is my edgy oc from my preteen years his nickname is Rust and he’s pathetic🥰

@elizakai's oc that I decided to draw on par with Sage.

@swiftmitsu's oc Moss, that I decided to draw on par with Kai's oc.

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 11 (The Cut that Burrows Deep)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch. 10 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Ámbar feels like every step she takes, the more she can feel her heartbeat. It’s like she’s carrying it in her arms with nothing to guard it, out in the open alone. She opens the cold rusted handle of the entrance to the restaurant. There she is, her biological mom trembling while drinking a glass of water. Ámbar sums up all the courage inside her and takes the chance to approach her. When she grabs the seat in front of her, Sylvania can’t help but stare in shock. “Wow Ámbar, you truly have grown.” Ámbar may have brought all her walls down for the people she loves, but she puts them back up with this stranger.

“You can’t say that since you were never there for me. That’s no fair,” Ámbar chided. Sylvania chokes up and avoids eye contact. “Look Ámbar, I now know after everything that has happened the big mistake I made, but at the time it felt like the best option for you. I was young and didn’t have the means nor felt ready to take care of a child. I thought Sharon would’ve been a better parental figure instead of a young girl like myself. I later on regretted it and that’s something I shall have to carry with me for the rest of my life.”

Ámbar grips onto her purse trying very hard to hold back all her tears. She wonders why did this lady chose Sharon specifically and why did Sharon try to keep it a secret for so long? “I understand you were young, but I know that’s not the whole story because I have memories being in a different house that was NOT Benson Mansion. You saw me, you knew me, and didn’t like me enough to keep me,” Ámbar rebuked. Sylvania is showing tears now, she’s choking up with every word as her hand trembles just to take a sip of water. “It wasn’t like that at all Ámbar. I tried, I really did try to see if I was capable of taking care of a child. I noticed my arms weren’t so comforting for you. Sometimes when you love someone, so much, you have to let them go because you care,” Sylvania responded. Ámbar doesn’t know whether to believe what she’s saying or not. She wishes she can get out of these tornadoes of lies that always come chasing her. She’s sick of it all. She wants the truth. Is that too much to ask for?

Silence crowds the room, they’re breathing the same air but can’t even look at each other. Sylvania speaks up again. “I know this feels hard to believe but why do you think I came back? It was for that reason, I thought Sharon would be a better parent than me and would take great care of you. I realized I was sadly wrong.”

“Sharon? Of all people? What made you think that a woman who put a place on fire because she was jealous of her own sister would be a perfect parent for a child? Do you know she never showed me affection or love? I had to learn it all on my own. She only showed any signs of care when she needed me part of her plan that only benefitted her. You left me to a person who only cares about themselves,” Ámbar fumed.

“It wasn’t like that at all. I had no idea about her being the cause of the Benson fire and she had already adopted you before that even happened. When I met her, she was a kind woman, I was friends with Lili from work, so I had already knew the family. I assumed that Sharon had a good heart just like Lili, even though she was seemingly different. The whole time I would interact with her, she was always nice and seemed to really want a child because she always felt alone. It all just felt fitting.” Ámbar is trying to put together all the puzzle pieces in her head with Sylvania’s story. Part of her doesn’t believe it but…. It does kind of make sense. For her it justifies nothing even though she has hope.

Before she gets up from her seat, she leaves a wad of cash. “Ámbar where are you going? We haven’t even ordered yet?” Sylvania asks. “I’m not feeling hungry anymore, here’s some money for dinner.” Ámbar heads out the door with no remnants behind other than the tears that fall to the floor.

Jam and Roller

“Eyyy amigo I’m so happy for the release of your new music video!” Gastón exclaims to Matteo. They’re both drinking smoothies while watching the Youtube countdown from Matteo’s phone. These are the special moments Matteo loves to share with Gastón since he’s always been his pal for the longest. He also loves sharing it with Luna too, but they sadly haven’t hit it off as well for a while. Matteo is hoping Gastón’s plan will work for the upcoming days.

Simón heads to their tables with a fresh batch of popcorn. “Wow, how exciting! It’s even more special since you get to enjoy it here at the Jam and Roller with us!” Simón states. Matteo grins but it slowly fades when he sees Luna walk into the cafeteria and completely ignoring him. “What happened?” Simón asks when he sees Matteo’s vivid expression abruptly change. “No nothing, I just wish I got to share this moment with another person too.” When Simón turns his head and sees who Matteo is staring at, he realizes what Matteo meant.

Nina pulls out her purse and hands her phone to Luna. “I know you’re trying to pretend you don’t care but you do. Watch the video, it’ll get rid of all your curiosities.” Luna shakes her head in disapproval. “Nina, the least I want to do is watch a music video of the one I love flirting with a girl who has a huge crush on him as well. They’re practically soulmates, meant for each other,” Luna exaggerates. “Oh c’mon, I know it’s complicated, but you know that’s not true. If you’re not going to do it for him, then do it for yourself. You deserve to see why he arrived late to your date.” Luna glares at Nina and decides to take the phone.

Once the music video is out, everyone begins to cheer for Matteo. Luna sits even more depressed seeing at the ‘amazing’ chemistry Matteo and Viviana had in the music video. She can’t help but doubt herself even more when all the comments from his fans say they ship him with Viviana. “Nina, I’m not feeling so good. I think I’ll just head home.” Nina nods and Luna begins to get up from her chair and head out. Matteo notices and follows her out.

“Luna! Luna, wait up! I need to tell you something,” Matteo yells out. “Matteo not now, I’m not in the mood. Congratulations of your video, it was very nice. I just don’t feel so good okay.” Matteo catches up to her and stands in front. “Look Luna, I don’t know if you’ll listen to me now but please go to tomorrow’s concert I’m having. My manager is having me make a concert to promote the single, but it wouldn’t be the same without you. Please Luna. You never miss any of my concerts,” Matteo begs. Luna gradually smiles. “Really? You still want me there?”

“Of course, I do Luna.” Luna now can’t help but blush. “Matteo, of course I’ll go. Even though I’m still a little upset at you calling me jealous, standing me up on our date, and not believing or listening to me, I still care. Since you want me there, I’ll be there.” Matteo is surprised by Luna’s comment and begins to graciously smile too. It was a moment for them, they hadn’t had one like this in a long time. It felt needed.

Nico is in the rink sitting on one of the chairs, he seems to be working on something since he has his notebook open with his pen. Jim enters and sees him alone. “Hey there, what are you working on?” Jim asks. “Oh just a few verses, I’m trying to get ahead on the Roller Band song for the competition, but nothing seems to come into mind,” Nico says. Jim heads to the seat beside him. She sits down and carefully glances over his blank page. “Oh yeah you do seem to be having some trouble,” Jim chuckles. “If you’d like I can help, I’m use to writing songs with Yam.” Nico turns and faces Jim, “Yes of course. I need all the help I can get; it’s been a while for me since I got to write a song with the Roller Band.” They both laugh together and get working on the song.

Jazmín dashes to Delfi holding a small slip of paper. “You won’t believe what just happened?” Delfi carefully places her books into her locker after seeing Jazmín rush to her. “Is it something new for the Fundom or for your blog, Ja Jazmin?” Delfi predicts. “Nope, you’re very far off. Look at this,” Jazmín hands Delfi the note. The more she reads it, the more her eyes grow like a flower blooming in the season, keeps opening. She’s in plain shock as Jazmín nods from her amusement. “Right! I have a secret admirer!! I have to post about this on my blog!” Jazmín frantically grabs her phone from her pocket but right when she’s about to film, Delfi stops her. “No Jazmín, this is something special. Honestly, I think this is something you should keep for yourself, every celebrity likes to keep their personal life separate from their work life,” Delfi advises. Jazmín thinks for a second and says, “Nahhh I’ll still post it, plus this can even help us discover who the anonymous writer is!”

The Restaurant

Yam is wearing her golden shimmery dress that Jim helped her pick out. She’s very anxious about her date with Ramiro, she wants it to go out perfect since this was something she had been dreaming of for a while. He puts down the menu and slips his hand under hers to her surprise. He gives her a shy smile. “I had been dreaming of this for a while. Before, I would always try to move on, but I just couldn’t. My mind just couldn’t forget about you,” Ramiro admits. Yam begins to tear up. “I felt the same way for so long but never said anything worried you didn’t feel the same way. I’m so happy about this moment. I don’t care how long I had to wait, it was totally worth it.”

Throughout the whole night, Yam and Ramiro shared college stories and even old memories of each other. How Yam never stopped writing songs about him and how Ramiro would skate imagining about her. Everything went smooth till dessert came. A random man with a suit and tie approached their table and faces Yam. “You look familiar, are you Yamila Sanchez from that Ja Jazmin blog?” Yam stays startled and stutters, “uhhh yes why?” The man quickly pulls a card out of his pocket. “Hillside Records, I’m the owner. I would like to set up a meeting with you for a chance at a record deal.” Yam immediately glares at Ramiro for a response. He shows his approval and gestures for Yam to respond. “Yes I would love to!” Yam exclaims. “Great! I’m available tomorrow at 5 pm. There is one important detail I have to tell you,” the man says. “Yes, what is it,” Yam asks. “The record company is not in Buenos Aires. It’s in California.” He proceeds to hand her the card. “Think about it, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaves and Yam shows her disappointment to Ramiro, she couldn’t believe how such an exciting offer can turn to something so depressing. If she took this offer, that means she would have to leave her family, her friends, and her chance at being with Ramiro.

“Look I know this is hard to think about but just follow your heart. If this is something you truly want go for it, I can wait longer,” Ramiro grabs her hand and holds it. “I don’t know what to say. I never knew me pursuing a music career would mean I have to leave everything and everyone I love,” Yam gradually lets her tears fall onto her glittery dress.

[katyamorrigan]

‘A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat’ - Chp. 1!

Gang banner by @verdiris​

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat

A trunk of contraband items ends up in the hands of the Crows, but the item that piques their curiosity most is the large box labelled “MONOPOLY”. Kaz is out of the Slat for the time being, so of course they decide to play it. Was there ever a mission more likely to fail than six criminals with lethal skills and undeniable emotional ties all trying to build a make-believe empire without killing each other in the process? Answer: yes - all of the above while attempting to pull off a heist at the same time.

Turns out board games weren’t the only interesting items shipped into Fifth Harbour that afternoon, and now the Razorgulls are interested. It will take all of the gang’s effort to break into two buildings full of rival gang members, regain possession of the contraband, and make it back to the Slat in one piece. And that’s without the inherent strains of playing at business negotiations with a group of decidedly underhand friends.

Join the Crows as they cheat, steal, lie, and bribe each other, all before the heist has even begun.

I am so excited to finally get to share the fic that I have been working on for the @grishaversebigbang​ over the last few months - A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat! Getting to take part in the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 has been so much fun, and I have had the honour of working with an absolutely incredible gang of artists and the loveliest beta reader. It’s been an absolute blast, and this is one of my favourite things that I’ve written. Thank you so much to everyone that I’ve worked with, and I hope that you enjoy reading and admiring the story and art that we’ve created!

Here is everyone in my gang, with links to the work that they’ve created (some art may relate to chapters of the fic that haven’t been posted yet - the fic will be posted in its entirety within the next 3 weeks and the art will be linked within the fic on the relevant lines, but also there’s nothing that will spoil the story for you, so don’t worry!):

Corporalki: @davonysus​ (who is the most wonderful beta reader, thank you for everything that you contributed to this story!)

Materialki: 

@ciph3rrr​ with hilarious Crows-minus-Kaz Monopoly shenanigans from Chapter 1

@j-wirth​ ​with this brilliant Inej and Wesper moment inspired by Chapters 2 and 7

@bloodysusher​ with a gorgeous group moment in Chapter 7

@verdiris​ with some amusing Kaz geniusness from Chapter 7

@maximumbluebirdpatrol​ (link still to come)

@emmaxtw​ (link still to come)

There are 7 chapters in total, so I shall be uploading a new one every Tuesday and Saturday until 25th September. Look below the cut for an excerpt from Chapter 1, and if you want to read the full thing (and check out the collection of all the other incredible pieces created for the GVBB) then click either of the links. I hope that you enjoy!

AHOTBIWTOTG Chapter 1 Excerpt:

The front door of the Slat opened with a loud clatter, and slammed shut on itself seconds later. It made Inej jump in her seat as she sat going over ship documentation - which, as it turned out, there was a lot of - in the front room. Nina gave her a look, and Inej wrinkled her nose back at her; the Wraith didn’t startle easily, but equally, there was usually less banging of doors while she tried to organise her finances.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Came Jesper’s voice. “And I brought treats!”

“It had better be more exciting than that time you came back from Cilla’s Fry with meat pies,” Inej called back. “That was underwhelming.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nina chimed in. “I was more than happy to finish up those.”

“We know.” Matthias gave her a knowing look, and Wylan sniggered as she raised a single finger at him in response. 

The bickering that came from everyone trying to work on separate projects at the same time was one of the many reasons that Inej hadn’t made it past the first page of her sailing license. That being said, she joined in the chuckling at Nina’s expense.

“Oh, it’s definitely better than Cilla’s pies, but you’ll have to take a look for yourself.”

Jesper rounded the corner, a large trunk tucked under one slim arm. His face was bright from the brisk, cold air of the streets, and a bead of sweat dropped from his chin as he deposited the luggage on the table beside Inej. She sighed heavily as the wad of pages in front of her jumped with the sudden extra weight.

“Sorry,” Jesper grinned. She just rolled her eyes fondly in response.“Come on, who wants to see what I’ve got?”

Nina, Matthias and Wylan all got up from the neighbouring table and crowded around Inej and Jesper. It was uncomfortable having so many significantly taller people stood behind her while she was sitting, so Inej scooped up her papers and deposited them on the floor, taking their place on the table so that she could get a good look at the trunk.

“Where did you get that?” Matthias asked.

“Well, our dearest Kaz decided to put me on shipment duty and I had to wait around at the Exchange for a boat full of contraband to come in. It took hours, so as soon as I saw something that looked interesting, I used my innumerable skills to swipe it so that we could take a look inside.”

““Innumerable” is a long word for you,” Nina quipped. 

A bubble of laughter rose up amongst the group, and Jesper stuck his tongue out childishly. “Fine, no contraband for you.”

“No, I want to look!”

“Be nice, then. I get first dibs on anything cool because I found it.”

Matthias snorted. “What happened to the ancient rule of “finder’s keepers”?”

“I found the trunk, therefore I found anything that’s inside it by proxy.”

“Can we just open it up?” Wylan said impatiently. “I feel like we’re building expectations by arguing like this – it’s probably smuggled whiskey or something.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kaz?” Inej asked. The others gave her a look of incredulity. “Where is he, anyway?”

There was a brief moment of looking at each other for answers, before Jesper answered decisively. “If he was so worried about what came in on the boat, he would’ve gone himself. And if he isn’t here now, then he’ll just have to accept whatever is left over from the spoils.”

“We aren’t actually pirates, you know,” Inej said.

“Not yet,” Jesper stage-whispered in reply, and Inej found herself grinning, pleased. “Gather around, then.” He beckoned everyone closer like a ringmaster at the centre of a performance. 

Inej was surprised to find that her heart was actually beating faster with the thought of what might be inside. Wylan was probably right that they were getting themselves worked up over nothing, but all the same, she couldn’t help hoping that they found something rare or exciting. Perhaps it was gold? Guns? Something dangerous? You could never know when it came to the imports of Ketterdam, and for once Inej was glad for the intensity of life in the city. It could very well be something extraordinary.

The catches on the front of the trunk lifted easily, but there was a thick knot of string around the middle as well. Jesper struggled to untie it, so Inej slipped a knife from her sleeve and cut it off with one flick of her wrist. Giving her a mischievous look, Jesper dug his fingernails under the lid and with a crackle of flaking rust, the trunk opened.

On top there was a loose gauzy scarf clearly intended to keep moisture out of the trunk on the long sea voyage, which had definitely served its purpose; the red print had blotted itself onto the inside of the lid, and there were water stains on it where it had protected the rest of the cargo. Matthias and Nina went to grab it at the same time, but it ended up in Nina’s hands regardless as he passed it to her with a shy smile.

“I thought you would want it, so I was making sure no-one else got there first.”

Wylan made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Matthias’ expression quickly reverted to his familiar scowl.

“Aha!”

Jesper reached forward and pulled out two pistols, both only a little rusty and with a single blue gem stamped into the body of each. With impressive speed he turned around and mimed firing two shots at the wall before holstering them beside his favoured revolvers.

As Matthias pulled out a slim soft-covered book, Inej realised that she was far too focused on the discoveries of her friends and was going to miss out on finding her own treasures otherwise. Lifting up two more scarves – this time green and blue – she found another couple of books which she handed to Nina. Her friend’s focus was pulled away from adjusting her hair under her newly matching scarf to flicking through the pages and wrinkling her nose hard.

“I don’t recognise the language, but I can understand it well enough,” Nina mused.

“Where did the boat come in from, Jesper?” Wylan asked as he opened a small wooden keepsake box full of golden rings in varying levels of ornate decoration.

“Kaz didn’t say, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Nina tutted and continued her reading with Matthias peering over her shoulder. With fingers now covered in rings, Wylan pulled out a long fur coat that smelt of mould. Removing its furry cuffs from the case, Inej reached into the trunk for what seemed to be the last item: a big box made of thick card, with a green cover and the word MONOPOLY emblazoned on the top. The lettering was incredibly clear, but it didn’t look as though it had been done by hand or with a printing press. It had an odd shiny feel to the outside as well, like it had been coated in order to keep out the damp.

Inej sat it on the table and lifted the lid. It came off easily, and revealed a large square of that same thick card in bright red that unfolded into a larger board with regular markings on it.

“What in the Saints’ names is that?” Nina remarked, putting down her reading material.

“I have no idea. It was at the bottom of the trunk.”

“Is it a map?” Wylan suggested.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Inej murmured as she put the board down and looked at what was left in the box. 

Underneath that map-like object was a tray divided into several compartments, with little silver tokens collected in one, some colourful playing cards of an unknown variety in another, and some appealing little houses done in an unusual material in both green and red. Beside those lay a rack of what looked like currency, in the same shape and thickness as notes of kruge. Jesper immediately started rifling through it all, mixing up the various collections and inspecting them all with irregular attention. Although Wylan slapped his hand away with a tut, it clearly wasn’t out of lack of interest.

“What is it?” Nina asked again. Taking the board in her hands, she began to stumble through the words written on it.

“Collect 200… something, looks like it could be a currency symbol because it says “salary” after that, as you pass GO... Old Kent Road, another amount of money… sixty? Community chest, Whitechapel Road, same amount of money as the other square…”

As she turned it over in her hands, a slim white booklet fell out onto the table. Inej started forward and managed to snatch it up before anyone else did, although the gesture was useless as she immediately handed it to Nina, who skimmed over the first few lines and let out a delighted noise.

“It’s a game! A board game! Seems like you play by going around the board which has place names marked out on it, and you buy up the land so that you can build houses on it. And you compete to earn the most money.”

“Who’s sending weird foreign board games to Ketterdam?” Wylan said incredulously. “Are you sure it’s not got something contraband hidden in there somehow?”

Inej laughed. “Does a game based on financial gain not strike you as the most Kerch thing in the world? I can well believe a mercher bought this to educate their children on the fun of working under Ghezen.”

Wylan cracked a grin at that, and Nina snorted. She pushed the box towards him.

“Take a look if you want.”

He lifted up the tray of items and ran his fingers along the underside, then looked inside each of the little model houses as if there might be gemstones wedged in the base like on Jesper’s guns. Wylan tapped along the top of the board, but there were no hidden compartments or secret openings. It seemed as though they had genuinely come across some kind of entertainment from another country.

“Shall we play it?” Jesper said with a broad grin at everyone. “We’ve got nothing else on, have we?”

“I’m meant to have applied for my sailing license by the end of next week,” Inej said weakly, but she wasn’t much interested in her own excuse. This bizarre-looking game they had stolen by chance had already caught her attention far more than boat permits and crew-hiring documents.

“I’m happy to,” Matthias said, and Nina and Wylan nodded fervently as well.

“Perfect! Let’s not disturb everyone’s things down here, we can take it into another room.”

“Nobody’s bedrooms are big enough,” Nina complained. “Kaz is too cheap to give us enough space to actually enjoy our stay at The House of Brekker.”

“His bedroom is, though.”

Read more here!

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD 11x06: On the Inside - Analysis

Okay, how did everyone like this episode? I loved it! It might be my favorite episode of the season so far. Partly because of all the horror movie vibes and jump scares. I thought that was delightful. And Lauren Ridloff did an amazing job. But more than that, it's because of all the symbolism and what I think this represents. Seriously, I think I might have like fifty-six theories come out of this one episode, LOL. Not brand-new theories, but just connecting symbols in a way I haven't before. For now, let's talk about the broad arcs here and what they mean.

***As always, spoilers abound below for 11x06. Don’t read until you’ve watched! You’ve been warned!***

Basically, we’re following two storylines in this episode. The first is Connie and Virgil. The second is Daryl, Leah, and the Reapers. I suppose you could call Kelly and Carol looking for Connie a third story line, but given that they're searching for Connie, it's really just a subplot of Connie's arc.

Connie and Virgil:

There are a lot of people saying that they might be setting Connie and Virgil up as romantic partners. I think that's probably the case, for a lot of reasons. They were very purposely put together in this house. After the episode, Angela Kang talked about how Virgil basically had to suppress part of his heart in order to get through the death of his family. That's why he seemed a little bit villainous when we first met him with Michonne.

Actually, we're seeing a major theme here that we've seen with other characters. Near the end of the episode, Virgil tells Connie, "I lost myself for a long time." It's very reminiscent of what Michonne said to Carl in 4x14. It's a theme we see where the character goes through some kind of trauma, and the aftermath of that trauma is very much a PTSD thing. They lose themselves to insanity for short time, but then someone is able to bring them back. We see this with many characters over the years. And this is something they're doing with Virgil. So this was Virgil kind of coming back to reality. Michonne gave him the chance to come back first, but he also says that her giving him that second chance led him to Connie and he sees that as Providence.

So basically, A.K. is saying that Virgil lost a big chunk of his heart when his family died, but he's rediscovering it here with Connie. And that's very important. I can't imagine them saying that, or him having this kind of arc, if there isn’t going to be a romance between them. Which, for the record, I think is cute. I totally ship it. (Totally objective over here. As always, of course. ;-))

But the big question is, what does this foreshadow? I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count.

I think this is a foreshadow of Beth and Daryl. I'm sure you're shocked to your toenails. I'll give you a moment to recover. Good? Okay.

A lot of us got Alone vibes from this episode. Just the two of them in house together. The undercurrent of possible romance between them. There's even a hug at one point.

Actually, the white, plantation style house with the white pillars immediately struck a cord with me. Back when they were filming the missing scenes from S5, they filmed in a house just like this one. it wasn’t the “white cabin” as we always refer to the house Emily was seen going into. But it was next door to that one and had a sign up about not mowing the lawn because it would be used for filming. 

I don’t know if this is actually the same house, but I’m willing to bet that this will end up having parallels to something we see when we finally get those missing scenes.

Once they get inside the house, we see Connie holding the door shut against walkers. It's very reminiscent of Daryl doing that at the funeral home in Alone.

The thing is, I don't even think callbacks to Alone are the big cheese. (For the record, we also saw them around Kelly, but I'll get to that in a minute.)

Because more than being a call back, this is a foreshadow. It represents some time in the future when Beth and Daryl will be together inside the CRM and trying to escape. Remember that “No Exit” sign in Beth’s cell?

We have a situation here where Connie and Virgil are trying to get out and there's literally no exit. All the doors are locked, they’re being trapped everywhere they go, they get separated. Even when Connie is in the wall, looking at Virgil, she wants to warn him of things, but she has no way to get into the room with him. There's literally no exit for her.

There are so many parallels to Beth and Daryl.

They emphasize the fact that Connie is lost. After getting out of the cave and walking around for walkers for so long, she clearly lost her bearings and doesn't know where she is or which way to go to get to Alexandria. It puts me in mind of the scene from 6x10, where Carl was talking to Judith and said if she was ever LOST and needed to find her way HOME, she should use the North Star. This is another way in which Connie is being paralleled to Beth. She's lost and needs to find her way home.

Virgil talks about wanting to get Connie HOME. To get her back to her family (which just so happens to be her sister). Of course there's the undercurrent of romance.

I also couldn't help but notice outlets throughout the episode. This house is very dilapidated and dirty. There's grime and rust and darkness everywhere. But we can very clearly see the outlets on the walls, as though they’re brand-new. I believe that's to draw our attention to them. Outlets suggest power, which suggests lamps or batteries.

Remember how I said that the whole battery theory is about resources and that it indicates the CRM? This is why I think this house represents the CRM. And I'm not at all saying that at some point, we’ll see Beth and Daryl running through a house together, as Connie and Virgil do here, trying to escape some threat. I think this represents a much bigger arc of them being inside the CRM and trying to get out. It will probably span a lot of episodes, maybe even multiple seasons.

At one point, we see a red coda pendant hanging in the window behind Virgil. Remember that, via the Matrix theory, red represents the outside world that TF is currently unaware of, and of course Coda suggests Beth. That’s a big part of the evidence for this template being a foreshadow of Beth and Daryl.

I’ll go over all the background details tomorrow, but pretty much every detail I found suggests what I've laid out here. I'm going to do completely separate post on the awake/asleep theme as well as the mailbox theme. That one stemmed from last week's episode (11x05), but I haven't gotten a chance to post it yet. And of course we saw the mailbox feature prominently in this episode as well.

We also have a situation where Virgil basically tells Connie to go on without him and that it’s very important to him that she gets home. And then he gets stabbed, and she not only saves him, but pulls him out of the house. We’ve always said that we think there will be a time when Beth will save Daryl. I think this is a foreshadow of it.

I think we'll have a situation (again, much bigger than what we see here in the single episode) where Daryl will be willing to sacrifice himself, his life, to get Beth back to Maggie. Of course she's not going to allow him to do that, but he'll probably be hurt very badly.

(And for the record, I think we've seen foreshadows of this and other arcs. Daryl getting hurt when fighting Alpha was probably a foreshadow of the same thing. I'm sure we could identify others.) I think he will be hurt and Beth will save him, and that will happen as they’re figuring out how to get out of the CRM.

To touch on Kelly’s side of things, we see her find a camp that Virgil and Connie had previously been at. She finds Connie’s stuff there, and the orange backpack that Virgil must have left behind. The thing that jumped out at me here is that, in the foreground, we saw ropes around the camp with cans attached as an alert system.

That was featured very prominently in Alone, both because Daryl set up something like that at the funeral home and also because the other half of that episode was about Maggie/Sasha/Bob and they did the same thing in their camp. So again, major callbacks to Alone, and to what this is probably foreshadowing.

But my favorite thing about this was connections that I made. Things that kind of confirm events we’ve suspected in 4B, but have never been able to prove. Let me explain.

First, there’s the reunion between Connie and Kelly. And this really jumped out at me. Not only because it's two sisters reuniting, but because of the way it was shown.

When approaching Connie, Kelly is crying and says, "I'm sorry." And that's out of character or out of place in any way. She’s sorry that for what happened to Connie and that it took them so long to find her. All that is completely understandable. But at the same time, Kelly has no reason to feel bad about what happened to Connie. It wasn't her fault, and she's been a dutiful sister looking for her intensively ever since.

But I think the “I'm sorry” will make a lot more sense if we hear Maggie saying it to Beth, given everything that's happened, and especially what happened in S5. I mean, Beth did get left behind.

The other thing is that when they see each other and then hug, the background music almost sounds angelic, like a choir. I mean, they really wanted this to be a big deal, the reunion between these two sisters. And not that the Kelly and Connie's reunion isn't a big deal. It's very sweet, but I feel like this a foreshadow something much bigger. And what other reunion between sisters could qualify for something like that except Maggie and Beth, who didn't get the reunion in season five?

We’ve always said that Connie was a proxy for Beth, and that the cave-in, followed by her being missing was a parallel to Beth’s arc. So, this arc ending in Connie finding someone she’ll eventually have a romance with and then finding her sister is makes me very hopeful for what we'll see when Beth returns.

I have to say that this is kind of a relief to me. Because of Daryl's line back in Still about how, "you ain't never going to see Maggie again," I’ve gone back and forth about whether Beth and Maggie will actually get a reunion. Yes, there are plenty of ways to explain away that line, and I don't disagree with any of them. But I’ve still been really back-and-forth about whether this is going to happen. After seeing Connie and Kelly really reunite, I have no doubt that eventually will see a Beth/Maggie reunion. Yay!

Next, is the fact that Virgil and Connie talk about how the people living in this house lured them into a trap.

This is talked about very much anymore, but was always but what happened in Alone was always so wonky to me. I know it was supposed to be, but the whole thing felt like it was orchestrated somehow. I mean, what happened to the dog? We hear barking, but we didn't actually see the dog again, because when Daryl open the door all the walkers were on the porch. But how did that many walkers get up to the porch without them hearing it?

When Beth and Daryl sat in the kitchen staring at each other, they heard the cans rattle and then at the dog bark. I think that the idea was that Daryl thought it was the dog moving the cans and that's why he was going to open the door and get it to come in. He didn't understand that there were walkers there. But why didn't they hear the walkers? More importantly, why would that many walkers go up to the door if they couldn't see any humans on the inside? It's completely weird behavior for walkers. And then when Beth leaves the house, she just happens to be picked up by a car?

Like I said, I just always felt like the whole thing was really orchestrated, but even at Grady, we were never told that it was. Gorman suggested to Beth that they happened upon her accidentally. Of course, Gorman is the opposite of trustworthy, but we also understand better now the way that these episodes are often approached. We sometimes see things from one character's point of view over another. Clearly, Slabtown was seen from Beth’s point of view, so if she couldn't see the truth about what happened, that's why we couldn’t neither.

My point is, in this episode, Virgil says that he and Connie were herded there like prey. These feral people apparently went to the camp (Kelly says the left in a hurry and something was very wrong, and I think she's right. Given that Virgil and Connie left all their stuff behind; Connie would not have left behind her slingshot on purpose). Which means the creatures came to their camp, scared them away, chase them toward the house, herding them that way, in order to eat them.

Now, I'm not saying that's specifically what happened in Alone, but I think it kind of proves that what happened was an orchestrated trap that was set up to capture Beth.

And we do get the sense from what Noah told her that Grady purposely left the strong behind and took the weak. So, I'm not sure if Beth and Daryl were actually herded toward the funeral home. From what we saw, it really was more like they happened upon it. But I'm wondering if once there, someone observed them, or observed them approaching, and decided that they would be optimal targets. Given that Beth was injured (which they would have known if they saw Daryl giving her the piggy back) obviously it would always be her that was taken, while Daryl—obviously the more survival-oriented of the two—would be left behind.

And I love this connection because it proves (as far as we can prove theories 😉) that there are things they haven’t shown us, not just in S5 with the missing 17 days, but reaching all the way back to S4.

The other thing that's just kind of cool to consider is that, as I said before, the other half of the episode was about Maggie/Sasha/Bob, right? There are a lot of things that their sequence foreshadows as well. And in the episode, Maggie is specifically looking for Glenn, not Beth. However, given that this episode with Connie and Virgil also featured Kelly, Connie’s sister, looking for her, it just doesn't seem like it could possibly be a coincidence that the other half of Alone was Maggie searching for someone. What I’m saying is that both Alone and this episode, 11x06, foreshadow what will happen when Maggie and Beth reunite. I'm sure I could go into the details of Alone find a lot of connections, but I don't have time to do that right now. Maybe during the hiatus. Maybe. ;-).

Daryl and Leah:

Okay, I guess we need to talk about Daryl and Leah’s part of this episode as well. I don't have as much say about the symbolism for them. This is really more about where this is going.

Daryl tortures Frost, which I'm sure some people are going to have a problem with. But A.K. said that this is really about Daryl wanting to stay on the inside with the Reapers. As I said after ep 4, Frost is smart and he understands what Daryl is doing. A.K. said he did exactly what Daryl wanted to do him to do here. Daryl wanted him to give them a basic location but not an exact one. In other words, to tell them the neighborhood but not the exact house. And that's exactly what Frost did. Angela says Daryl did this because he was trying to save Frost’s life. Unfortunately, by the end of the episode, we see that didn't work out so well. But he was attempting to save him.

You have to watch the details closely to pick this up, but the first house that Daryl, Leah, and Carver go to is not the house Maggie is in. That's why Daryl says they should stick around and look around for things, because he knew Maggie wasn't there and wanted to give her time to escape. But the second house we see them go into is where Maggie and co are hiding under the floorboards.

At first, it seems to be empty, but when Daryl comes downstairs, he sees the place where they might be hiding and slides the rug over it. In the end, Carver sees it and checks, but Maggie and the others have already made their escape.

I had to stop and think about that for a minute. Since Beth wore yellow and we think yellow equals life and escape, I would have thought the yellow house would be where Maggie and the others were hiding and then escaped from. That would've made more logical sense. But actually, the yellow house was a decoy.

It gave me a whole new insight into the meaning behind the color yellow in TWD universe.

I still think yellow represents escape, among other things. But it also represents looking for someone in the wrong place. Even if you think about Rick’s mini death fake out in 7x12, there was probably only 12 feet between where Michonne thought he was (right side of the screen being eaten by walkers) and where he actually was (left side of the screen coming out of the yellow carnival car) but still, she was looking for him in the wrong place and assumed he was dead because of it.

I also thought of the Glenn situation in S4. Maggie looked for him on the school bus (yellow). And in both cases, it was because that’s where Rick/Glenn were last seen, but what was UNSEEN was how they ESCAPED. So, TF was looking for them in the wrong place.

And I’m sure something similar will happen with Beth during the missing 17 days. It doesn’t really change what we believe happened with Beth, but it makes me want to re-examine every yellow reference we’ve ever seen on the show, which is probably hundreds by now, lol.

At one point, Carver is coming down the stairs and Daryl runs over to him and starts talking really fast. He says that they (Maggie’s group) will not to come back here, that it wouldn’t be smart, etc. The first time I watched it, I remember thinking that Daryl was being really obvious. It made him seem nervous and like he was hiding something. And he probably was somewhat nervous. The reason he ran over Carver right then, is because he didn't want Carver to see the hiding place where Maggie and the others were (because Daryl himself noticed it when he was coming down the stairs).

But the other thing to remember is that Daryl knows Maggie and the others are down there. He was using this to give them information. He talks about how the Reapers have walls and weapons, twenty people inside their town, etc. That is also him getting Maggie information so she would know what they're up against. It was actually very smart on his part, even if it kind of tipped Carver off.

By the end, they returned to Pope and find that Frost is dead. I thought it was super weird and creepy that Pope started laughing when Carver said they had lost Maggie's group. That's very out of character for him. Angela Kang said Pope was purposely playing mind games to make Daryl and Leah paranoid, but even so. That laugh was just maniacal.

So, not sure exactly where this is going, or what Pope's plans are. He kind of suggests that maybe Frost turned on Daryl and sold him out before he died. I doubt that's true, but Pope also strikes me as the kind of guy who, if he's decided Daryl is an enemy, doesn't actually need proof of it. So, we'll just have to see where this goes.

Okay, that's it for today. I'll do details tomorrow. How did you all like the episode?

[thebiscuiteternal]

This was originally a twitter thread and I told myself I wasn’t gonna clean it up and post it until after I finished the next chapter of Cage, but we all know I have the impulse control of a hamster, SO.

“All Your Sins On Show” Murder Plots, Violent Death, Grief, Talking to the Dead, Literally, Creating Your Own Personification of Guilt, Open Ending, Mixed Adaptations, Second-Person POV

Ao3 Link if you prefer.

__________

It comes down to this: Your father wants the Nie out of his hair by any means necessary.

No, no, that's not right. He specifically wants the Nie heir dead.

"Anyone can see the useless little bitch is their only weak spot. Kill him and they all crumble, especially that oaf Chifeng-zun," he says, then gives you the knife-edge smile he reserves for when he knows you'll give him anything for a more authentic one. "Can you get it done, or do I need to find someone more reliable?"

And you ignore the discomfort worming through your insides, smile back, and bow.

It comes down to this: The plan doesn’t take very many parts to set into motion. The smaller sects are still struggling after the decimation the Wens dealt to the cultivation world. It's easy enough to find a disciple desperate for more than his leader is paying.

It's even easier to goad Nie Mingjue into pushing his brother to join a ‘simple’ training-level night hunt, since Nie Huaisang has been avoiding using his saber yet again.

It goes like this: At your signal, the bribed disciple 'panics' and shoves Nie Huaisang into the path of a rampaging cursed beast that he has no chance of winning against, and then you make sure your turncoat doesn't escape either.

In the chaos, no one notices how seriously Nie Huaisang has been injured until the monster falls and someone realizes he never got  back to his feet.

Horrified Nie disciples crowd around, flooding his body with spiritual energy to try and save his life, but between his cracked open ribcage and bitten throat, anyone with eyes can see it's a lost cause.

Nie Huaisang dies choking on his own blood, and all anyone can hope is that the shock of the first blow left him too numb to suffer.

It goes like this: The inhuman howl of anguish Nie Mingjue makes when heartbroken disciples hand him his brother’s ruined body is everything your father has likely been hoping for.

Only then, watching him fall to his knees, do you remember that their father came home in similar condition after being set up by a friend, and your stomach knots so tightly you nearly throw up right there in the courtyard.

Only then, looking at the small figure cradled in the sobbing man's arms, death white save for where he is covered in rust red, does it hit you that for the first time, you have killed someone who never did anything to harm you.

Who never did anything to deserve it.

Who was only in the way of what your father wanted.

You'd been prepared to fake tears.

You don't have to.

~"Da-ge?"~

It goes like this: The voice, confused and nervous and as wispy as if being carried by wind, makes ice form around your spine.

Because it belongs to the body lying before the three of you.

Your hands clench on your knees as you brace yourself and glance to your right, but neither of your sworn brothers seem to have heard the plaintive call. Lan Xichen has been in meditation since he arrived to join you, the furrow between his eyebrows and the unnatural pallor of his skin the only signs of his sorrow, and Nie Mingjue has long exhausted himself into silence, staring with empty eyes at the coffin.

~"Da-ge! Come on, this isn't funny!"~

The ice spreads into your blood when you see him.

Nie Huaisang pulls and shoves at his older brother, every bit the child upset by an adult ignoring them when they’re used to getting a reaction.

Except Nie Huaisang is also in the coffin, and unlike that one, this one still bears all the ruinous injuries that ended his life at all of twenty-three.

~"I'm sorry about the argument,"~ he pleads, his demeanor growing more desperate and despondent with every moment Nie Mingjue doesn't respond. ~"I'll go on the hunt, just talk to me! Da-ge!"~

Your breath locks in your chest, surrounded by frost.

He doesn't know.

You swallow hard, forcing down the mixture of bile and hysterical laughter that threatens to bubble out of your throat.

Because you are kneeling in a tomb with the body of someone whose death you set up, and he is also right there next to you, begging his mourning brother to acknowledge him because he can’t see that he’s dead.

Who wouldn’t laugh, faced with that kind of absurdity?

"A-Sang."

The name falls from your mouth so quietly that your sworn brothers don't even twitch, but Nie Huaisang straightens like a startled deer.

There are bloody tears steadily trickling down his cheeks, but it's the hope that floods eyes clouded over by death that makes you feel lightheaded. ~"San-ge? San-ge! Tell him I'm sorry, he’ll listen to you!"~

And it's because Nie Mingjue listened to you, despite you having given him so many reasons not to do so anymore, that Nie Huaisang's ghost is begging for your help now, rather than his whole self.

Hands covered in still dripping blood reach for you beseechingly, and that's the last thing you remember before the world goes black.

It goes like this: You wake up in the healers' ward, Lan Xichen hovering worriedly by your bed. "Liu Feng says your qi is disturbed," he says, gentle as always.

You involuntarily glance at the figure by his side, miserably pulling at his sleeve in an attempt to be noticed.

"Too many late nights," you say. "Nothing more."

For once you want him not to believe you, to push for a better explanation than that, but he simply nods. "I'll let the healers know you're up," he says.

And then it's just you and... him .

~"San-ge, why is everyone else acting like I'm not here?"~ he asks, small and broken and unaware of the blood ceaselessly dripping from his mouth and throat and chest to pool around his feet. ~"Even Er-ge won’t speak to me! I know Da-ge and I haven't been getting along, but have I really been that much of a brat?"~

"No..." you say, barely managing to get enough air in your lungs to expel the word. "That's not it. A-Sang-"

'I killed you. You loved me and I killed you because you weren't the one I wanted to be loved by.'

"A-Sang... you went on the hunt you and your brother argued about. There... there was an accident."

The slow dawn of understanding in his expression is horrible to watch.

Worse is watching him break down sobbing.

It goes like this: A lost and dazed Nie Huaisang lingers next to you during the funeral, icy fingers clutching your sleeve, and you can't help but wonder if he can see or experience it at all when Nie Mingjue burns the joss for him, or if he sees only a vacant courtyard.

He only leaves you twice when it's over, and each time he returns to you a little more heartbroken by his continued failure to make contact with his brother.

~"San-ge... San-ge, what will I do?"~ he asks quietly, head bowed and kneeling in the ever-present pool of blood that forms wherever he stops long enough. ~"If I can't make him see me, what will I do? What will happen to me?"~

"I don't know," you say, though you have an inkling.

Clearly the circumstances have bound him to you. When you leave, would he follow? Would he linger? Would he disappear? Would he have a choice in the matter either way?

How the hell did this happen? Surely he hadn't done anything to warrant such a cruel punishment from the heavens, so is it a punishment for you? Or is there a simpler answer, something to do with the specific monster that killed him?

But that... you will look into the matter later, when you have built back up the necessary mental fortitude for what you might find.

For now, it ends like this: Seeking the only comfort available to him, he curls at your side to rest his head against your knee.

It’s a familiar seating position for the two of you, old and comfortable from the days where he would insist on sleeping next to you while you finished late reports.

Except now he is dead and instead of gentle warmth, there is a cold that shocks through you at the point of contact between you and it’s sharp and bitter and spears all the way into your bones.

You bite back a gasp of pain, then collect yourself and reach down to run your fingers through blood-slick hair.  You force yourself to ignore the sensation of frostbite in your fingertips and how each stroke stains your hand a darker red.

Because you deserve it.

Because he needs you.

Because no one else will see.

[harcourtholmesii]

Love And Hate

Once again, another belated post for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife, as internet has been particularly crappy the past few days, so I haven’t been able to post any of my writing. It will probably be like this for the next few days, me just catching up, as without internet, I didn’t have access to my youtube playlist, which is a necessity for me to write. Sorry about the lateness of this post and what posts follow after.

Pairings: Markus X Simon and One-sided North X Markus

Warnings: - References to Violence and Death - References to Abandonment and Abuse - Hurt/Comfort and Angst

Words: 2529

Enjoy!

‘We need to take a stand! Every day, more of our people are slaughtered in the streets!’

 ‘And if we just start killing any wayward human we come across, we will only be encouraging these executions!’

 ‘If you are afraid to fight for our cause, I suggest you return yourself to CyberLife! Maybe being deconstructed and having your parts reshaped to suit a household Roomba will change your mind!’

‘If we seek violence, then we only welcome death. Bully me all you want, North, but this is the only way!’

 Markus’ head hurt from the most recent of Josh and North’s series of arguments; he assumed it would be much like a ‘headache’ for humans. He hated having to hear his closest companions yelling back and forth; both had good arguments and reasons for their sides, but the constant raised voices and aggressive tones carried through the walls of Jericho.

 Their people were scared, and the discourse between both Josh and North was not helping anyone to feel safe.

 They hardly seemed to notice him leaving, stepping out of the room and heading for the stairs. The drip and drops of leaking water and the gentle tilt of Jericho’s hull was soothing to Markus, his headache already having begun to recede.

 At the base of the stairs, there was the glow of the fire pit to his left; Lucy was helping another damaged android to seal their wounds. She had since gotten a lot of aid from the freed androids that joined them in Jericho and had become Markus’ confidant in all, personal matters. She and Simon had both been there for him whilst the others fought, but Simon had been absent from Markus’ inner circle the past few days.

 He had hoped that his closest friend would be by Lucy’s side, helping their people with their injuries, but peering past the ruined curtain, he could not see the head of familiar, wheat hair. Looking out over the crowd, there was the occasional PL600 that caught his eye, but he did not recognise them.

 Androids may have all shared faces across their different models, but there was something about their eyes, how they held themselves and their tones of voice; it helped to differentiate them. Something humans may have struggled with, simply amongst twins or triplets, was something that came easy to the average android. And with Markus, it just seemed that much clearer.

 He passed through the crowd, offering his sincerest words to those that sought him out. Markus hadn’t much liked the idea of leading his people, especially when they had only just been released from human control. The thought had sickened him at first, but he adapted to it quickly; he didn’t want to be their ‘master’, but the more he spoke with Lucy and Simon, the more he realised he had simply become their servant. A leadership role was meant to serve the people, not the other way around.

 As he strayed to the edges of the crowd, he caught the familiar sight of blue eyes looking in his direction. Markus turned and made his way to a corridor, rusted yellow doors lining each side. Leaned against one, sat up on an empty CyberLife crate, was Simon. His chest rose and fell, much like a human’s would as they breathed, and as Markus approached, the hum of the thirium pump became that much more obvious.

 Simon still sported a wound; sealed though it was, his skin still had yet to return to it. The white of his chassis revealed a deep gash and how his thirium pump remained exposed. Despite him walking back to Jericho, Simon shouldn’t have been allowed to move much. His biocomponents could have been shutting down from all the stress, and Markus wasn’t sure how much more loss he could suffer through. Not when Simon had just come back.

 ‘Simon?’

 ‘Markus.’ He offered a tense smile, those stormy blue eyes darting away to focus their gaze on the floor. Hesitantly, Markus did take a seat beside him, and noticed how the android shifted over, as if to create space between them. Markus didn’t understand it. Since they hugged upon the other’s return, he thought they were still close. The last thing he wanted was Simon to be upset.

 He rested his hand on the other’s; feeling the cool of his synthetic skin against his own. The hand twitched, but didn’t move away at the intrusion.

 ‘I’ve missed you at our meetings, Simon. It would be nice to hear your opinions in our discussions.’ He hoped that, by striking a conversation with him, Simon would open up. He worried that whatever he had experienced on the rooftop of the broadcast tower may have hurt him more than Markus could ever know.

 ‘Yes, well, it is not my place.’

 ‘W-What do you mean? Simon, I want your opinion; I respect it.’

 ‘That does not matter.’ Those eyes turned to finally look up at Markus, and Simon’s heavy head rolled to the side, resting on Markus’ shoulder. ‘I… I am not able to help you.’

 ‘Simon, I trust your judgement. I want to hear what you have to say.’ A small smile pulled at the corners of Simon’s lips, and for a moment, he seemed to almost curl closer. ‘I don’t want you to forget this, Simon, but you are my closest friend.’

 Simon’s head rolled the other way, and the man sat up. The thrumming of his thirium pump sounded louder through the wound, and the hand that Markus had caught, slipped away to cover it. The smile on Simon’s face had dropped.

 ‘What’s wrong?’

 ‘I-It’s nothing, Markus.’

 ‘It isn’t nothing.’ He shifted closer as Simon had shifted away. He rested his hand over Simon’s shoulder, and the android jerked his whole body away, weakly falling off the crate and to his feet. He stepped away from Markus, seemingly afraid. ‘Talk to me. I want to hear what you have to say.’

 Simon took another step back.

 ‘Is this about what happened at the tower?’

 Another step.

 ‘Or is it something I have done?’

 ‘No!’ The sudden outburst caught both of them off guard, as Simon’s hand raised to his lips. He seemed almost horrified at his own reaction, but it was enough for Markus to step forward and take a gentle hold of Simon’s shoulders and steer him away from the crowd of androids behind them. If this was something so personal to him, perhaps something he didn’t want to admit in front of anyone else, Markus wouldn’t force him to say so when their people stood naught fifteen feet away.

 They entered into one of the side rooms, sealing the rusted, yellow door behind them. It was an empty room, save for some crates of old, tinned food that had been abandoned along with the vessel. Simon had put some distance between them again once the door had shut, but he seemed less likely to scurry away. He just seemed… nervous.

 ‘Simon-’

 ‘No, Markus. I… I don’t want to talk about this. It… I will…’

 ‘Please, Simon.’ Markus stepped closer, and without much space to avoid him, Simon let him approach. ‘The last thing I want is for you to be hurting. I want you to talk to me, to let me know what is happening. I want to help you, in whatever way I can.’

 ‘You can’t help this, Markus.’

 ‘Maybe I can, and you just don’t realise?’ Markus attempted to joke, but there was only a shake from Simon’s head. ‘Please, just talk to me. I don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want me to. If you really want…’ Markus didn’t want it, but he didn’t want the other to continue to alienate himself from the rest of Jericho.

 ‘We can get Lucy to erase my memories of our conversation, if you just want to get if off your chest?’

 Simon’s eyes widened at the idea, but the minute trembling had ceased. He stood, stock still for a time, until Markus had taken another seat by the wall, and gestured for Simon to join him.

 ‘Y-You would do that?’ Markus smiled.

 ‘Anything for you.’

 It was a hesitant approach, but Simon did take a seat beside him. They leaned against the wall of the room, feeling the wet of leaking water running into their clothes. They didn’t care.

 ‘I… I don’t want you to hate me, Markus.’

 ‘I don’t.’

 ‘I-I know, but… I don’t want what I have to say to change anything for the worse.’ Markus nodded his head, and didn’t say anything else. He allowed the other to speak.

 ‘I… I have discovered Markus that, especially when North is around you, speaking to you and looking at you in the way she does, I feel a kind of heat surge through me. My temperature feels as though it has raised, but my HUD does not detail any errors.’

 ‘The way you hold hands, the way she moves so close to you… I can’t stand it. I know it is wrong, Markus, but I… I want you to look at me in that way.’

 ‘You are so brave in your choices, so willing to take on the pain of our people and to offer them an extended hand every time. You seek to help them and do what you can for them. Even when I argued against it, you still helped to steal an entire truck of parts and biocomponents. Something I would never be brave enough to accomplish.'

 ‘I admire you, Markus. And I want you to admire me… Not because I am brave or because I am a good leader, like you. I am neither of those things, but I want your eyes to be on me, the same way you gaze at North.’

 ‘You have great wisdom, a willingness to help all androids, and the courage to do it all. You listen to everyone’s opinions and you are creative in a way I don’t think I could ever be.’

 ‘It is…’ It was the first time Simon had halted in his words. He hesitated, and the sight of tears pooling at the corners of his eyes made Markus feel a deep tug within his chest cavity. His hand wrapped around Simon’s once more, and the other didn’t pull away.

 ‘I think it is ‘love’, Markus. I love you…’

 The tears had begun to flow. Markus pulled Simon closer, but didn’t hold him. He did not wish to restrict the other. The man beside him was sensitive, and scared. Markus didn’t want Simon to run away from him. Not after this.

 ‘W-When you left me on that rooftop, I thought I wouldn’t see you again. I… I was scared to die, but I had never felt more scared when I saw the three of you leap off the building. I thought I would be found, that I would give away everything about Jericho…’

 Markus’ ‘heart’ fell.

 ‘And then you didn’t come back…’

 Markus had hated doing that to Simon. He couldn’t kill him, but when he saw the other crawl away across the roof, dragging his legs behind him, he had not expected the officers would miss him. When he had heard the deviant hunter had been present at the tower, he had assumed Simon had been caught, and deactivated.

 When the other had returned, out of the blue and alive, Markus had never felt two such conflicting emotions before. He had felt a great weight fall from him, as if he was relieved, when he could feel Simon in his arms. But, he felt just as cold, when he realised that Simon had been alive the whole time, and abandoned to his fate.

 ‘I’m sorry.’ Simon continued to cry silently. ‘I didn’t mean to abandon you. I never wanted to. I…’ He felt tears in his own eyes, but refused to let them fall. He had no right.

 ‘I love you, Markus… P-Please… Please don’t leave me again…’

 ‘I won’t.’

 They held each other there for a while, until Simon lifted his gaze to Markus. He sat up and the two androids stood, smiling at each other.

 ‘Y-you don’t hate me, do you?’

 ‘Never have and never will.’ Markus reassured him, resting a hand on Simon’s cheek. The two of them were stood close, their faces having drawn in to where they were only a short distance apart.

 ‘W-Will you do as you suggested?’ Simon asked. ‘Will you go to Lucy?’

 ‘If you want me to…’ He leaned closer, brushing his lips over Simon’s cheek. The android froze, eyes widened in shock. He didn’t pull away from Markus’ hand on his cheek and Markus felt a kind of sweet warmth enter into his cheeks. The faintest turquoise colour had started to blossom in Simon’s face.

 ‘May I admit something to you, Simon?’

 Simon’s own hands had raised, resting on Markus’ chest. There were placed as if to push away, but all they did was clasp to the lapels of his coat.

 ‘Y-Yes?’

 Markus dipped his head again, their lips brushing ever so slightly. It sent another thrill through their bodies, something that warmed them up inside. It wasn’t a kiss, but it had been close enough.

 Markus took one of Simon’s hands from his chest, and felt their skin recede. It revealed the white of their bodies beneath, and there was a bright blue, glowing at their fingertips. He could see through Simon’s eyes, how he had been beaten down since the first day he had been bought by his family. His model was due to be decommissioned as an obsolete model, and he had panicked.

 It was a rush all at once, and Markus lowered his lips to Simon’s. It was a gentle, unsure lock of lips. Their eyes shut, allowing them to see through each other’s eyes. Markus could see himself through Simon, how the other watched him and felt warm whenever he spoke. He felt a sense of joy to see someone so invested in the lives of their people, and a great respect for someone willing to make the hard decisions.

 ‘I don’t want to forget this, Simon.’

 They kissed again, a little longer this time. The feeling of heat rushing through their bodies continued to grow.

 ‘If you will let me, I want to remember this… And if you want, I would love it if you allowed me to love you.’

 ‘B-But what about North?’

 ‘North…’ Markus thought over his words for a moment. ‘North and I are close, Simon. She is proud and strong, who cares for our people. But she is not who I want.’

 He leaned in for another kiss, resting one gently peck over both of Simon’s closed eyes. Then, he kissed his lips again. It felt wonderful. It was no mystery to Markus why a good number of humans longed for such connection. He didn’t wish it to end.

 ‘I… I want you, Simon. Will you let me remember?’ Simon breathed, fingers locking with Markus’ own.

 ‘I… I don’t want you to forget me, Markus…’

 ‘Then I won’t. I will never forget you.’

[jalapeno-princess]

You Weren’t Mine to Lose

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 9.4K

Genre: Angst

Warning: Mentions of sex, cheating

Summary: You made the mistake of falling in love with someone who was never yours to begin with. What started off as a one night stand turned in to months of sneaking around with each other and devoting most of your time and energy to a man who was already in a relationship. However, the high you get from fooling around with Mark is the only thing that’s been keeping you from going completely insane. But what happens when lust turns to love?

A/N: Hey guys, so I have good news and bad news. Let’s start with the bad news, I had to get a second job (On top of my teaching job and being a full time college student) so this means I won’t be able to write as much as I normally do (I haven’t even started on my new series just yet and I’m sorry for those who are anticipating it I have no clue when I will actually get around to writing it) but the good news is I have two stories prepared to post within the next few weeks so there’s that to look forward to. I hope you’re all doing well, especially after the news of Yugyeom signing with another company but honestly, I am so happy for him. If all seven of them end up leaving the company entirely, good for them. They deserve so much better than the shit excuse of a company JYPE is and I support each and every single member in all of their endeavors and plans for the future. With that being said, happy reading. (Based on August by Taylor Swift). 

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mineYour back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

“Fuck—go faster, please—M—Mark, I need you to go faster—sh—shit shit, just like that.” 

Mark Tuan, ever the gentleman did as he was told. However, he would do anything you asked of him during moments like this, God knows he wanted it too. His cock felt so wonderful grazing against your tight, sopping walls. His hardened tip continuously hit the back of your cervix, kissing it with each and every thrust. 

The two of you were going at it for almost an hour now; both of you reached your highs after giving each other mind blowing head—but you had yet to come together. You edged him three times, riding him until his cum reached the tip of his cock only to lift yourself off of him, earning you a scowl and the sexiest grunts of frustration. 

He left multiple slap marks on your ass; letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you have all power against him. No matter how much fun he’d have whenever you did dominate him and take over the sex session, he wasn’t letting you have all the fun tonight. There was sweat dripping down both your bodies—his entire body was warm with fervor as he continued to leave multiple hickeys along the valley of your breasts. 

His breath was hot against your neck as he tried his best to conceal his moans; it was surprising, his room had no echo whatsoever—yet, the many sinful noises falling from his mouth and yours bounced off the walls along with the sound of skin on skin slapping against each other. His thrusts were relentless as he picked up his pace; pumping in to you as if he was trying to punish you for being naughty. His pelvis ramming against your bare cheeks made a loud crack sound each time he pulled out and shoved himself back inside of you. 

It was addicting; feeling him bury himself balls deep inside of your pussy, but you were well aware that the sensation had an even bigger effect on him than it did you. Doggy style was Mark’s favorite position right next to watching you bounce up and down on him as your breasts jiggled all but gently. Something about being able to see his cock sliding so easily in to your tight walls drove the older boy fucking crazy. 

“Fuck y/n—so fucking tight as always baby. Tell me how it feels—I want to know that I’m driving you insane—“

“Feels—so good Mark—so, so good.” 

He hummed contently against the crook of your neck while picking up his pace if it was even possible. At this point, he was practically drilling himself inside of you; it came as a shock that you both still had yet to cum. On other occasions, you and Mark had no problem with reaching your highs with just your hands and mouths alone. Penetration was your favorite part of sex, so you had a feeling your body wanted to indulge in having Mark’s cock inside of your pussy for as long as you could have him for. 

“You feel so amazing y/n, I could fuck you for hours. I will never get tired of having your cunt wrapped around my dick. Please—tell me you’re close. I’m about to lose my damn mind here pretty soon.” You giggled softly against his chest; nodding in agreement while placing a few wet kisses near the sensitive spot right below his ear. 

“I’m close, so close—“

He bit softly against your collarbone, trying to hide the fact that he was seconds away from losing his will to do anything. You were just that mind blowing. Unfortunately, right as you were about to let the wave of lust consume your entire body like a wildfire, there was a new sound that filled the room. The piercing ring of a cellphone broke you out of your Mark induced haze. T

his wasn’t the first time his phone went off while the two of you were busy loving up on each other’s bodies; there were multiple situations where Mark had to cuss out his friends because they always seemed to try and get in touch with him at all the wrong times. There was even one night where he threw his phone at the wall because it wouldn’t stop ringing. When you felt Mark tense up at the blaring noise, you had a huge feeling you knew exactly who was on the other line. He looked up at you and released an exasperated sigh before doing the unthinkable. You wanted him to ignore it, just like he did almost every single time, but he tapped gently on your thigh; as if he was nonverbally asking for you to put your late night romp on pause. 

“Mark, are you fucking serious—“

“It’ll just be a minute, tops. I promise. No funny business, please.” 

To your dismay, he reached for his phone and answered the call. It was tempting—the idea of palming his naked sex, fondling his balls or even grinding your wet folds against his thigh—you knew you would get some kind of reaction out of him. Mark was a very sensitive person; physically and mentally. It didn’t take much for him to cry; emotionally and sexually. 

He cried in front of you more times than you could count on your fingers. Whether it was because of a sad movie, when school could get a little too much for him to handle or the time he got the news that his grandfather was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer, he didn’t hesitate to pour out his feelings in front of you. You felt special knowing that you were one of the very few people who’d get to see that side of Mark; his soft, gentle, fragile side. Not the confident, overbearing and egotistical asshole he’d portray himself out to be on campus. 

During the times you would find yourself on your knees, milking him dry of his white, creamy liquid and making sure his legs would wobble by the end of the night, he’d always cry out in pleasure while begging you to do something—anything to help soothe the pleasurable soreness you caused to his lower body. You knew you’d be treading in rough waters if you did tease him in any way while he was on the phone with her, but you were coming to the point where you didn’t even care if she were to find out anymore. 

“Hello? Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” 

You laughed sarcastically in disbelief—what was so important that couldn’t wait a few more minutes? Something had to be wrong with Mark—who in their right mind would put a halt on fulfilling their carnal urges just to answer the damn phone? You rolled your eyes in irritation—it’s because she was the one trying to get in touch with him. His girlfriend of a year and a half, Aubrey. 

You never understood why Mark continued to fool around with you when he had a girlfriend. What started off as a one night stand at a house party one of his friends threw a little over five months ago turned in to a dangerous affair between the two of you. For the longest time, you knew nothing of the girl in question; Mark was really good at hiding her existence. 

He never told you that he was in a relationship, you didn’t see her at any party or gathering nor did you get a chance to see her around school. But that was because she was his girlfriend from back home. He only saw her during breaks or if she flew up to see him, but for most of their relationship—they were long distance. That was the only plausible reason you believed he allowed this relationship or whatever it was between the two of you to continue. 

One day, you were playing games on Mark’s phone when she sent him a message, asking him what he was doing. At first, you just assumed it was a friend of his or maybe even a classmate, but then, she told him that she missed him and told him to call her when he had the chance. You confronted him in anger; sure, you found it completely weird that he continued to see you—especially for more than just sex. The two of you couldn’t even be considered fuck buddies—no, not when you’d go to sleep wrapped tightly in his warm embrace only to wake up in the morning to his signature gummy smile and stinky morning breath. 

You’d go on cute little dates—or what you assumed were dates. He’d hold your hand and compliment you on your beauty and whatever outfit you put together that day. He’d call you if he couldn’t sleep, he’d pick you up from and drop you off to school, he’d cook you food if he noticed that you were tired and he even made a playlist of songs that reminded him of you; albeit, most of them were meant for when the two of you would stumble in to bed together, but it also contained songs that were more heartfelt and romantic. 

You had a hard time understanding why you were letting him continue to use you. You hated cheaters with a passion; you’ve seen homewreckers ruin multiple marriages within your family and the idea of someone in a relationship fooling around with another person made your skin crawl—yet here you were, fucking with another girl’s boyfriend. You went against all your beliefs and every single rule you were taught to follow just for the devastatingly handsome and sweet talking man sitting right in front of you. 

Honestly, you felt bad for his girlfriend. It was obvious that Mark meant a lot to her. She would constantly text him and send him pictures of what she’d be eating or if she went somewhere the two of them used to frequent. You felt horrible; Aubrey seemed like such a sweet girl and she was completely oblivious to the fact that there was someone else involved in Mark’s life. There were so many times you wanted to call it quits with Mark, you couldn’t keep fooling around with him considering the fact that he had someone at home who loved him—almost as much as you did. 

When you first found out that you weren’t the only one, you should have told him it was over. You should have told him that you weren’t the kind of person who was fine with committing adultery nor did you want to be the other woman—you were a firm believer in monogamous relationships but you didn’t have the strength to tell him no when he began to leave wet, sloppy kisses all along your jaw. You were in deep and you despised the fact that you were so hooked on to him. Mark was everything you could ever want in a significant other; not only was he the most attractive man you have ever laid your eyes on, but he was soft-spoken and gentle towards you. 

At school, he was a cocky prick; his group of friends were some of the most popular guys at your university. It seemed as though every student either wanted to be them, be friends with them or to be with them. But when the two of you were alone, his demeanor would take a 360 degree turn. Sometimes, you’d find it hard to believe that he had two personalities; one meant for his friends and everyone he associated himself with and another one meant for you and only you. It got you thinking though, how did he act when he was with Aubrey? 

Did he treat her the way he did you? Was he protective over her? Could she make him laugh the way you seemingly never failed to? Did he get flustered by a single smile or graze of her fingers against his arm? Was he constantly checking up on her to see how her day was going? He hardly ever talked to her when the two of you were together and seeing as how most of your free time was spent with him, you wondered when he had the chance to call her. 

There were only two instances where he answered her phone call when you were hanging out together. He always gave you an apologetic frown while taking the call and it was when you heard him tell her that he loved her that you knew, you were in love with him. It felt like a painful jab to the chest—for months, you’ve been lying to yourself. 

I don’t love him, I just love who I am when I’m with him. I love how he takes such good care of me and how he fucks me so well. 

You’d repeat those words to yourself every single time that you’d get to see him. With every kiss he’d steal from the corner of your mouth or every smile and look of adoration he’d send your way, you began to feel something deep in your chest. Whenever he’d drop you home, you always felt so empty—like a piece of you went with him back to his place. 

Mark Tuan owned your heart; there was no doubt about it. You’ve been with quite a few guys in the last three years of college but none of them could ever make you feel as over the moon or as elated the way Mark so easily did. He made you so happy; your heart rate would increase rapidly just by the mere sight of him. His laughter—his high pitched, contagious laugh always seemed to send fire through your veins. For months, you tried to accept the fact that all you would ever be to Mark was a place to put his cock while he was away from his actual significant other. 

Maybe, he was only kind, affectionate and generous towards you because it was the only way to get you to stay by his side. If it were anyone else in your shoes, they probably would have given up on him once it was revealed that he was already in a relationship. 

How did he not feel even the smallest ounce of guilt rearranging your guts; pressing you up against his balcony and fucking you in to the next week knowing that his girlfriend was waiting patiently for him to graduate so they could finally be together? And how could he not feel remorse considering the fact that he brought you in to this mess? He was selfish; that you felt wholeheartedly was true. If he cared about you or Aubrey, he would have either broken up with her as soon as the two of you found yourselves falling in to bed together the first time, or he would have never even cheated on her in the first place. How could he continue this facade? How was he fine with playing not just his girlfriend, but you too? He probably didn’t think you held any romantic feelings for him and God—if only that was the truth. 

If you had the choice, you would go back to the beginning of your arrangement and made it your mission to have never fell in love with him. You would have made yourself immune to his endless flirting, you wouldn’t let yourself kiss him other than when you would have sex, you would have made sure that what went on with you and him was strictly physical. No feelings—No emotions—nothing. It was only natural for you to have felt something for him. If you knew back then what you currently know now, you would have never allowed him in to your life—in to your heart. 

You would have never let him tear down the walls you’ve built so high in attempts to keep people out. You would have never allowed him to take up your entire mind—you wouldn’t have given him your body if he wasn’t willing to take all of you. Who were you kidding? There was no regretting Mark Tuan. Even if you were given the chance to go back to the past, you wouldn’t change a thing. Mark Tuan was your person, whether you wanted to accept it or not. He was the rightful owner of your heart, even if you didn’t own his. You couldn’t really hear what she was saying over the phone, but Mark’s brows began to furrow; as if something bad happened. 

Since he was distracted, you took this time to pull away from him—retracting his cock from your now dry folds. Tears were brimming at your eyelids and you would rather die than give him a reason to inflate his ego. He’d have a field day if he found out that you were in love with him; that was the last thing you needed—the last thing he deserved. You would always come second to Audrey. He might have currently been in bed with you; his limbs tangled with yours—running his hands through your hair, tracing the outline of your features feather lightly, kissing every corner of your face, but at the end of the day, Aubrey had the rightful title of his girlfriend. Not you. Nor would it ever be you, even if they did break up one day. 

If Mark saw you as someone with more than just a casual fuck to him, then he would have solidified your relationship months ago. If he harbored any sort of feelings for you, he’d feel wrong telling another girl that he loved her.  Did he though? Did he love her? If he genuinely loved her or at least cared for her—especially because they were in a relationship together, he would never have cheated on her. 

When you love someone, you never want to put them in any kind of situation that would hurt them and you most definitely wouldn’t feel right giving yourself—your time, love, effort and energy to anyone else but that person. As soon as he saw you getting up from off the bed, he asked Aubrey to wait a minute and gave her the excuse that someone rung on his doorbell. You had to force yourself not to say or do anything that would get him in trouble with his girlfriend. 

“What are you doing? I said I’d be hanging up with her soon I’m literally about to end the call—“

“Don’t bother—I’m no longer in the mood anymore so you go finish up with her while I finish myself off.” 

You picked up your clothes from where they were thrown on the ground and headed over to the bathroom; locking the door before he could try and stop you or get you to change your mind. In the corner of your eye, you could see him attempt to follow you, but he must’ve stopped altogether once you shut the door. 

A choked up sob fell from your lips and you tried so hard to prevent any tears from falling, but it was inevitable. Why did you let this go on for so long? Mark was breaking your heart more and more as the days went on and you were the pathetic fool who continued to allow him in doing so. You were wrapped around his finger and there was nothing you could do about it. As soon as you put on all your clothes, you rinsed your face free of any tears and took a deep breath before returning outside. 

All you wanted to do was return back to your apartment. You needed some time to think out this entire arrangement. The idea of losing Mark—no longer having him in your life, no longer being able to kiss his pretty lips, to be held in his protective embrace, to hear him whisper sweet nothings while he passionately made love to you, it broke your heart. It was as if he had somewhat of a Stockholm syndrome hold on you. He was ruining you mentally; he was holding you captive and you weren’t able to leave him—nor did you willingly want to. At this point, you were fine with Mark taking advantage of your patience. All you wanted was him; in anyway you could have him. 

Once you felt like you gave yourself enough time to breathe and recollect your thoughts, you hesitantly made your way back in to his room and you were secretly hoping he’d still be occupied with Aubrey so you didn’t have to worry about him stopping you and questioning what just happened. If this were to happen in the beginning of your affair, you wouldn’t have let it got to you and you were sure you’d continue from where the two of you left off from; but now that there were feelings involved—specifically your feelings, there was no way you could pretend that nothing was wrong. That—you were fine with being a side chick who would drop anything and everything just to be at his beck and call. You were sure you’d spill everything; knowing the kind of person you were, you would probably tell him how and when your feelings of lust turned in to love and how you respected yourself a lot more now to continue staying with someone who technically belonged to another woman. 

He might not have seen her in a long while, but he continued to act like everything was fine between them. Not once has he ever told you exactly what she meant to him—she hardly ever came up in conversation. It’s as if he never wanted to bring her up and you understood that it was because Mark was well aware that as someone who was sleeping around with him, you probably wouldn’t want to hear about his girlfriend. To your dismay, he was no longer on the phone and he was sitting at the edge of the bed—still naked and waiting for you to come out. 

Right as his gaze landed on you, he leaped up from off the bed and made a beeline toward you. He tried to reach out to you, but you shook your head—you didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You were exhausted; he continued to take, take, take from you and although he was very generous in bed, he didn’t give the same amount of devotion in a romantic aspect. He didn’t fulfill your heart’s desires like he did with your lustful ones. 

“Where are you going baby—“

“Don’t. Don’t give me that baby shit Mark, you just got off the phone with your girlfriend for heaven’s sakes. I think it would be best for the both of us if I were to leave before I say or do something I will regret.”

“Wait—what are you even saying? What happened y/n? Why do you sound so upset? You knew exactly what you were signing up for as soon as we hooked up—“ 

You let out a scoff of disbelief. Was he being real right now? It was too late, you were going to let everything out tonight. If he ended up not reciprocating your feelings, then there was nothing you could do. These last six months opened your eyes to the reality that you were never going to mean as much to Mark the way he did to you. You could try anything; you could fuck him as much as both your time and energy permitted you to. You could do whatever it was he asked of you, but it would never be enough. You would never be enough. 

There was something Aubrey had that you didn’t; you couldn’t quite put your finger on it—it couldn’t have been because they have a longer history. Maybe he felt obligated to continue staying with her. Although you knew Mark like the back of your hand—you knew practically every little thing about him, there had to be some information that he left you in the dark about. Maybe their parents were friends and he just wanted to please the both of them by staying with her or maybe he genuinely liked her, but he had his desires that needed to be fulfilled and he was going to use you until they could finally be together again.

“I didn’t know anything you asshole! You kept Aubrey a secret from me for an entire fucking month. I shouldn’t have told you I was okay with continuing whatever it is that’s going on between you and I. It’s not fucking fair Mark, to her or to me. We were fucking when your girlfriend called! Does it not bother you in the least way that you’re playing the both of us? Do you not sit back and think that what you’re doing is wrong? Yes, I’m sleeping around with a man in a relationship, but you’re the one allowing it! You’re just as at fault here, so don’t try to make it seem like you’re not doing anything wrong! Admit it, you get off on some kind of high knowing that you have the ability to manipulate two different women. One who you call your girlfriend and one who you call when you need to get your dick wet. I don’t know who you think you are Mark, but I’m tired of being your puppet. I’m tired of giving you the ability to break me—to do whatever you want with me. I let it go all these months; I know it was wrong and I feel like such a bitch for getting involved with you knowing you have a girlfriend. I made a vow to myself never to do such a thing but look Mark—I’m a fucking mistress! I can’t blame you completely because I’m still here, but I need you to know that I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. With this—with you. Have a nice life, I no longer want to be apart of it.” 

You quickly grabbed your bag from his bedside table and stormed out of his room—if he were to come after you and attempt to sweet talk you in to staying; at his apartment and in his life, you would’ve gave in to him and that powerful speech you just poured your heart in to would have all been for nothing.  As much as you wanted to rid him from your thoughts entirely and say that you felt as though a huge weight has been lifted from off your shoulders, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt when you realized he wasn’t chasing after you. But then again, this was what you wanted—your heart could no longer handle the fact that he didn’t care for you or love you the way you practically gave him your entire being. 

You would have done anything for the older boy—you were well aware of that and so was he; but allowing him to play with your emotions all the while leading you on was something you refused to let continue. From the time you were a little girl, you were extremely insecure about every single little feature on your body; your bushy eyebrows, your chubby cheeks, your sharp nose that you believed was too big, your crooked teeth and short neck. You also didn’t like the fact that you were only 5”2—you felt like people didn’t take you seriously because you were so tiny. However, over the course of your arrangement with Mark, you didn’t know how you did it—but you fell in love with everything you believed you hated about yourself. 

Unfortunately, you knew Mark had a lot to do with it. He praised your body on a daily basis, like it was his duty to tell you how breathtakingly beautiful you were and how your body was handcrafted by Leonardo DaVinci himself. During your sexual activities; whether it was when he’d find himself with his face buried in your cunt, or if he had you pressed up against the counter, he never failed to compliment you on how soft your skin was, how insane your curves were and how he truly believed you were God’s favorite with how amazing your body was. 

Only then did it hit you—Mark only ever seemed to compliment you when his dick was deep inside of you or right after the two of you reached euphoria together. You had to accept it—you were just a fuck buddy, a play thing—someone to help him relieve stress and find pleasure through. When you reached your car, you sat in it and cried for a few moments; allowing everything to come out. 

It was hysterical; less than an hour ago, you were crying out of frustration because he kept fucking you with his fingers but refused to fill you with his length until you begged him to do so. Now, your sobs were filling up your entire vehicle all because you couldn’t let your affair to continue anymore. Everything seemed to be getting out of hand. You put so much effort in to something so pathetic all for a boy who couldn’t give less of a shit about you—a stupid, egotistical, manipulative, selfish asshole. You wanted to wait until you were completely calm and free of any more tears before you began to drive back to your apartment. 

Did all of that really just happen? What were you going to do now? There was no way you could just pretend like he was nothing to you. Six months of memories; kissing him in bathrooms that was hardly ever used at your university, singing along to Disney movies, helping each other with homework, attempting to cook meals that either of you saw on food network and ultimately failing, driving to another state on a whim just because you needed a break from life—every single beautiful moment spent with him was forever etched in to the back of your mind. 

Mark Tuan was the rightful owner of your heart; he was the reason why it would flutter and rapidly beat as much as it would sink and tear apart by the smallest mistake or argument. You continuously repeated to yourself that this was what you needed—you needed to let him go sooner or later or else he would end up breaking you completely; until you were a shell of nothing. 

Two weeks went by since that night and you could honestly say they were the worst two weeks of your entire life. You weren’t even exaggerating—you were miserable beyond belief. Mark hasn’t tried to get in contact with you at all since you stormed out of his apartment and with every swig you took of whatever alcohol beverage you drank in order to take your mind off of the man in question, you attempted to coerce yourself in believing that this is what you wanted. 

This is what was best for you. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell though; sure, you told him that you were done with him and you no longer wanted to have anything to do with him, but he gave up so easily. It felt like a slap in the face by reality that your biggest worries were true—he had no legitimate feelings for you; just lust. He could get anyone he wanted to take your place; you were just another useless body. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find out that he told his friends about you and what the two of you have been doing for the last few months. 

His group of friends were notorious for having a group chat that they would brag about all of their hookups. You were so tempted to reach out to him and the multiple amounts of alcohol you’d consume would only make you crave his presence a lot more. Some days were better than others and by better, you didn’t cry as much and you actually would get some sleep. Why did you allow this to happen? 

Anyone who knew anything about friends with benefit relationship were well aware that it could never be just sex. Things always got messy; one person fell in love while the other didn’t reciprocate the same feelings. In this case, you were the poor unfortunate soul who got the short end of the stick—you fell in love knowing that your feelings would never be reciprocated. It was heartbreaking; the first time you ever loved someone—it just so happened to be a person that was never yours in the first place. Once you were to move on from Mark completely, you were afraid that you would never be able to love anyone else. 

This entire arrangement ruined your outlook on love permanently. You had to force yourself not to try and reach out to him—there was a point where you even hid your phone because you were afraid you’d give in and call him. He obviously didn’t care—losing you wasn’t a loss to him at all. Not if you never meant anything to him in the first place. Your friends tried to reach out to you multiple times throughout your emotional episode; it wasn’t like you drop off the face of the earth without an explanation. But nobody knew about you and Mark—nor would anyone understand what you were doing with him. 

You were still in your early twenties, but you weren’t too young to realize that having an affair was wrong. You’ve known that even when you were a little girl—if your friends or even your family were to find out the mess that you’ve gotten yourself in to, they’d be so disappointed. Every time your phone went off, you held on to a tiny string of hope that it would be Mark trying to get in contact with you. It was too much of you to hope that maybe, just maybe he came to the conclusion that he missed you, that he was nothing without you and that he accepted the thought of loving you. However, it was always your close friends trying to get you to go out with them. 

As much as you felt like you should say yes to them and allow yourself to move on by joining in on activities to keep you preoccupied, you didn’t have the strength, energy or desire to do anything at all. At the three week point, you came to accept that Mark wasn’t coming back. He was done with you, and there was nothing you could do about it. When you returned back to school, your friends were on your case—pointing out the fact that you looked like literal death. Claiming that you’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time they saw you and that your cheekbones were more prominent. 

They also stated that you looked as though you haven’t slept in days—your eye bags were dark and your eyes were puffier than usual. Like you had done with everyone else in your life; you lied and gave them the excuse that you had some kind of bug and that your doctor told you that it would be best for you to stay bedridden. Thankfully, they bought it—you didn’t need the constant reminder of why you were acting like someone died. 

“Hey, I know you don’t care about anyone from Jinyoung’s group of friends, but did you happen to see Mark’s girlfriend yet? She’s here for spring break. She’s so pretty; I don’t understand why she would want to come to a university on her vacation, but maybe she just wants to spend time with her boyfriend no matter what it is that they do. They’re so cute together.” 

Everything your best friend was telling you about Mark and Aubrey felt like a punch to the gut. Every single word twisted your heart and you began to grow lightheaded. So that’s why he didn’t come after you that night; maybe she told him she was coming to visit him. He didn’t need you anymore—he’d have someone, his someone in particular to give him his fill. He might have been cheating on her, but you didn’t think he’d be the type to sleep with two different girls at the same time—then again, it would probably raise his confidence levels in such an obnoxious way. 

If only your friend knew how much her words were taking over your mind—how much they were ruining you and slowly tearing you apart. You wanted to cry—you felt like screaming to get her to stop. She had no idea about your relationship with Mark, so it wasn’t as though she was trying to make you feel bad. Even if she did know, she wouldn’t do anything to hurt your feelings—although, she would have been upset to hear about your poor choices. 

“I—uh—no. I’ve only been here for about ten minutes so—I wouldn’t know. Cool. I should get going. I’ve already missed out on so much—I’ll call you later.” 

You wasted no time briskly heading to your first class. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go anymore. Coming to school was a mistake—what was another day of missing class? You’ve been doing your work online; there was really no reason to be there other than for attendance purposes. You didn’t feel like you learned anything anyway, so there was really no point at all. You mentally cursed yourself at your negative thoughts—this was all Mark’s fault. Before him, you genuinely enjoyed school. 

Your education meant everything to you. Whenever you were assigned homework—you completed it before your next day of class. Some of your professors complimented your on your work ethic and your English professor even asked you to become their TA because you were always so on top of things. Now, you couldn’t wait for school to be over with and you didn’t even care whether or not you passed any of your classes this semester. 

Nothing mattered to you anymore and it was so disheartening that you allowed a stupid asshole to have this effect on you. To flip your world upside down and make you hate everything that used to bring you so much joy and contentment. You were busy trying to avoid people in the hallway and you couldn’t care less about whether or not you ended up bumping in to someone. Today was just not your day and if people were smart, they’d stay far away from you.  

Your phone began to ring, and when you saw that one of your other friends were trying to get in touch with you, you were debating on answering. Human interaction wasn’t something you wanted to put up with for the rest of your time on campus. Everything was all too much for you to take in. The idea of Mark—introducing Aubrey to everyone as his girlfriend, the risk of seeing them together—kissing, holding hands, hugging, acting sweet to one another, it was messing with your head. 

Heard you’re back, if you’re free right now, did you want to get some coffee?

The word no was at the tip of your tongue—you were afraid that you’d give yourself away if you showed any sort of emotion that proved you weren’t sick at all. However, you loved coffee and you were sure it would be the only kind of positivity you’d be able to have at all today so you were going to take what you could get. 

It didn’t take too long for you to reach the coffee shop—there were three spread throughout campus, so you made your way over to where your friend said to meet them. You put in your headphones and blasted your playlist of sad songs—most people would try to steer clear of melancholic music while they were going through such a difficult time but it actually brought you peace. Some weird, twisted kind of peace but nonetheless, it helped you cope with the pain that Mark’s sudden absence left on you. The smell of coffee was soon ridding you of your anxiety and you were quick to see your friend towards the back of the shop. She waved you down and you acknowledged her before getting in line to place your order. 

“Next in line.” 

You gave a soft smile to the barista and gave him your order—going with a large caramel macchiato with three shots of espresso, you were in need of caffeine in the hopes that it would give you enough energy to last through three classes. When you pulled to the side and began to scroll through Instagram, your friend sent you a playful text message about how she was glad that you went with the biggest size, you were definitely going to need it. 

“I have a grande matcha latte and a venti iced americano with almond milk for Aubrey—“ 

Your heart felt as if it was about to combust out of your chest at the sound of her name. Sure, there could have been multiple Aubrey’s on your campus. It wasn’t an uncommon name—but you knew the americano was Mark’s go to beverage. He was lactose intolerant and the first time you went to get coffee together, he told you that americanos helped him stay awake. You didn’t want to look up—you were afraid of seeing her or worse—seeing him. 

Life could be a bitch sometimes. Maybe this was your karma for fooling around with someone who was already taken. You couldn’t help it, you lifted your head up to see the girl who owned the heart of the man who owned yours and you ultimately regretted doing so. She was beautiful—there was no doubt about it. No matter how much you wanted to be bitter and say that she was ugly or that you couldn’t understand what Mark saw in her, you knew that was far from the truth. You’ve only seen a few pictures on her Instagram when you accidentally stumbled upon her account one day but her pictures didn’t do her justice at all. Her long brown hair was in big, bouncy waves.

She was wearing a red, summer dress with a pair of heels. You could feel yourself choking up at the sight of her and all her beauty and you began to mentally scold yourself for not putting any effort in to your outfit at all today. But what did it matter? At the end of the day, it was her who got to say that Mark was her person. She got to tell people with confidence that they were a couple while you had to hide behind the cafeteria or shopping malls in the fear of anyone recognizing the two of you. 

She grabbed the two drinks and made her way to a table near where your friend was sitting. Out of all the places that she could have decided to meet you, it just had to be the same place that Mark’s girlfriend was currently at all the while waiting for him. Was it too late for you to come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t stay for too long? Surely she’d be able to understand right? 

There was no way you could be able to withstand being in the same room with the man that ripped your heart from out of your chest and threw it on the ground right in front of you—stepping on it like a used cigarette. That’s all you were to him—a cigarette. You were bad for him—but he was addicted to you and he used you only when it was beneficial to him. Just like the way smoking addicts would turn to cigarettes for stress relief, Mark would come to you for a way to release any pent up frustration and just like when the cigarette burns out and the high is over, you’re thrown to the ground and discarded until he needed another hit. 

“Y/n, I have your venti caramel macchiato.” 

Your hands were shaking and all the wind was knocked out of you. After politely thanking the barista, you took in a deep breath as you sauntered to the direction of your friend. You began to plan out ways to escape this unfortunate situation you found yourself in. Fate must’ve had something against you; this wasn’t a coincidence that you’d be in the same exact place at the same exact time as the both of them. This was your payback—your punishment and you were just going to have to take it like a big girl. 

“Hey y/n. I’m so happy to see you again, although, from what everyone who has seen you has told me so far, you really don’t look too good. Maybe you should have asked your doctor to give you a few more days off—“

“I’m fine, really. I can’t afford to miss out on any more school or else I won’t graduate on time. Don’t worry about me. Let’s talk about you, inform me on everything I missed.” 

As she began to tell you about how her life was going and how much you missed out on so many fun outings, everything she was saying went through one ear and out the other. Thankfully, your back was facing where Aubrey was sitting. You were sure if you were able to see her, you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off of her. Your friend continued to explain the crisis she was experiencing with one of her AP classes and you felt bad for not giving a shit at all. You tried to muster any kind of response and you could tell your “oh really?” and your “that sucks” were completely insincere, but if she noticed anything out of the ordinary—she didn’t say anything. 

You didn’t think anything of the chime of the front door, but something in your chest—probably the fact that you grew accustomed to the distinct sound of Mark’s footsteps made it known that he was now there and your suspicions were soon answered when he spoke up. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. My professor held us back for five minutes. You weren’t waiting too long were you?” She giggled softly at her apology and it had to be the green monster of jealous on your back that was growing annoyed at the sound. 

“No. I just got our drinks. So how was class baby?” 

The term of endearment made your skin crawl—baby. You used to call him that; but then again, it was only when you were fucking him. Only once did you ever call him baby other than when you were having your fun together and he never really reacted to it. He must’ve been used to hearing you say it during your many hookups that it was second nature to you. You couldn’t handle staying in the coffee shop for a minute longer—you were afraid that something inside of you would get you to walked over to their table and tell her everything. 

Mark didn’t deserve to have a happy ending—not after all that he’s put you through. If you had to suffer, so did he. But you weren’t like that. You weren’t a terrible, heartless person no matter how much you wanted to be. You wanted to hurt him—break him—ruin him the way he so easily did to you. You wanted every single one of his thoughts to be filled with you and how he played you. Your mind was begging you to leave—the last thing you needed was to make a fool out of yourself and who knew? He could pretend that he had no idea what you were talking about and make you seem like the biggest idiot ever. 

“Hey, I actually planned on talking to my physics professor about missing assignments so I think I’m going to head out. Sorry about that.” The younger girl shook her head before giving your hand a comforting squeeze. 

“You’re fine! Don’t stay away from us any longer okay? We’re only young once, let’s make the most of what we still can.” 

You mirrored her expression and nonverbally agreed before picking up your books and your bag. Right as you said your goodbyes, you abruptly turned around and collided with a body. Not just any body—the body you’ve grown so familiar with in the last half a year. The body that made you feel so safe, so comforted, so happy and so serene. The body you’ve missed more than anything—Mark.

“I’m so sorry I should have looked where I was going—y/n?” 

Hearing him say your name again after almost an entire month of not seeing or hearing from him sent you through so many different emotions and you felt like you were on the verge of both throwing up and crying. It wasn’t a sensation you were used to nor did you ever want to get used to it. You just wanted to get the hell out of there. You didn’t even look up at him; your initial instinct would probably be to either punch him or to kiss him and both options would bring you so many problems. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me—“ you attempted to walk away from him; being this close in proximity to him was suffocating. Your chest felt heavy and you were growing nauseous. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry—that night—I can explain—“

“There’s nothing for you to explain Mark. I’d watch myself if I were you. Your girlfriend is right over there. You’re not as quiet as you think you are, I don’t even know why you’re talking to me or what you feel the need to explain yourself. What we had is over. You and I are over, so there’s no need—“

“Please, we need to talk. I need to tell you something—“ 

Now would be a good time to just bring your fist up and force it against his cheek. Did he hear himself? He was gone—he stayed away for weeks. He made you feel like complete and utter shit. He didn’t fight for you or your relationship—he didn’t beg you to stay nor did he try to stop you at all. Seeing him right now, you noticed that you were more angry with him than you were missing him. Did he really think that you were going to take him back with open arms as though the last three weeks of hell that you suffered through never happened at all? Did he think you were that stupid and that desperate enough to go crawling back to him with the snap of a finger? 

He knew that he had the power to get you to come running to him even if he didn’t try to stop you that night. If you were to tell him why you were so angry with the fact that she interrupted your time with him, he would have seen right through you. If Mark had any kind of common sense, he would be able to pick up on the fact that it had nothing to do about being interrupted during sex. You wanted to laugh sarcastically—his girlfriend was a mere five feet away, he was truly unbelievable. 

“Your silence that night spoke volumes for you so I think it’s best if we pretend like what we had never happened at all. You better go return back to her or else she’ll know something is up. I meant what I said when I left you, I no longer want to be apart of your life if my place—my presence isn’t as much of a priority as yours is in mine. Now, before I end up walking over there and telling her exactly who you are and who I was to you, be smart and leave it as it is.” 

You shoved passed him and walked out of the shop with so much weight off of your shoulders. Telling him off felt amazing; there was so much more you wish you could have said, but you already felt eyes on the two of you and you didn’t want to bring any more attention to the two of you. You were sure your friend must’ve saw the entire exchange go down and she would most likely have a lot of questions, but you didn’t care about anything at all—your mind was set on going back home. 

Sleep sounded so good right now and as much as running away from your problems wasn’t ideal, you deserved some rest. You didn’t even attend one class and you were in more or less words exhausted to the tenth degree. The image of him begging for you to hear him out with just his eyes alone was now imprinted in the back of your mind. Mark was never a man of words—not with you. He preferred using actions and you liked it that way. 

But now, those actions were being used against you, not for you. There was something inside of you; pleading for you to hear him out—you knew it was the part that still loved him wholeheartedly. You wanted to give up your pride—you were proud of yourself for standing your ground, but there was a hole in your heart that could only be filled by Mark himself. As you started walking towards your car, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and it didn’t take a genius to know who might have been texting you. 

That was who he was; Mark was insufferable. He was the type who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted and if he wanted to talk to you, he was going to do anything and everything in his power to get you to listen. You contemplated taking a glance at your phone for quite some time. It was tempting; what if he decided to just confess everything since you weren’t willing to let him talk to you in person? There was really no harm in looking at his messages; you just weren’t going to respond. If you even sent a simple “back off” you were allowing him to continue sticking around in your life. By not responding at all, you’re giving him an answer. 

Getting over him completely was going to take some time, but you owed it to yourself to be released from the confines of Mark’s hold that he had on you. There were so many other men out there; men who didn’t come with baggage. Men who were both physically and theoretically available. Men who would love you—only you. Men you didn’t have to worry about their place in your life or your place in theirs. You bit your lip in anticipation; what was there left for him to say or do after you practically shunned him from your life? He might have believed he wasn’t going to give up this time without a fight; you probably did damage to his ego but your mind was set. 

You were done with Mark Tuan, for good.

Mark: I love you and I’m sorry. 11:25 A.M.

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

[something-very-special]

Call Her Back

Probably already a post with this title from the Let’s Play but it’s appropriate.

Thoughts on Replicant up to Ending A (and change):

This game is pretty. I guess it didn’t really hit me because I’ve always thought that the original NIER was pretty, but this game can be very pretty.

This in particular just kind of struck me as I was going across the Northern Plains. It had been dominantly gray, overcast skies up to that point because Part II of the game is meant to be. You know. Bleak. But I walked out onto a bright, sunny day with an expanse of blues skies, the mountains in the backgrounds, the ivy a burst of green growing up the rusted sides of the train tracks and it just kind of hit me that the game can be very pretty.

(Then I got punched out by a Shade.)

It’s definitely not a matter of massive graphical overhaul. The models look much better (getting a good look at the Twins during the finale, they really are beautiful) and I’m sure the environmental poly count is much higher and just overall smoother, and there are little touches here and there and just the capacity for better atmospheric lighting... I mean it all helps. But NIER is a game that’s always had fantastic art direction, making the most out of its budget through atmospheric tuning. There’s something uniquely beautiful about its muted palette and the way it uses its spaces that elevates it beyond the its actual technical limitations. It doesn’t look like an end-of-generation PS4 game, but that’s not an insult; it looks very much like itself from ten years ago, with its solid art direction, but touched up where it matters.

Does the sidequest grind seem... better...? I haven’t really dug into the BEST part of the game (spending 30 hours grinding out weapon upgrades) but I mentioned before my theory about how the sidequest grind is supposed to be carried out across multiple playthroughs and that’s why it sucks. To my surprise I finished Ending A missing only one sidequest (your friend and mine, Life in the Sands), with all of the other ones being more or less... pretty natural? The only thing I really needed to go out of my way for was Memory Alloy but all the other components didn’t really give me the kind of grief I remember from my playthroughs of the original. ‘Grief’ of course being relative to getting the platinum trophy, but my first time through the game I gave up finishing a few outstanding sidequests (specifically, fixing the lighthouse broke me-- I could not find 10 Mysterious Switches!)

Maybe I just got lucky, especially with the Machine Oils. Maybe some weird muscle memory kicked in. I feel like there were a few purchasing options that weren’t open originally, too, to ameliorate some of the grind, but it might also be a case of those options being cost-prohibitive so I just didn’t really acknowledge them... whatever the case the sidequest grind felt overall pretty painless. I dunno!

I really need to know how to manipulate events. For literally seven playthroughs straight of the latter half of the game I always did the keystone quest as Junk Heap (start) - Forest of Myth - Junk Heap (end) - Facade - Aerie. It wasn’t until I did a run with my college roommates and Popola gave me the Aerie letter before the Facade in invite that I realized the Aerie wasn’t actually programmed to be the last event.

Absolutely blew my mind, and ever since I became aware of it, it feels like the game goes out of its way to make sure the Aerie always comes before Facade. When I did my Let’s Play of NIER I kept a save file from the start of the kystone collection so I could re-do the events in case they went ‘out of order’ (according to my headcanon)... which they did. I replayed the latter half of the game again in order to get things the way I wanted them to be, same order, and fortunately it cooperated the second time, but I still don’t understand what the trigger is, if there’s a way to manipulate it, or when the determination is even made.

And then they throw the Little Mermaid into the mix, which I wasn’t expecting (that is, I knew it was added, but I’ve been mostly avoiding spoilers -- and happily, the changes have largely been a delight, I’m so excited for the subsequent playthroughs -- but the way it was posted about made it seem like it would happen after and apart from the keystone quest. Not so, my friends).

The reason for this is just the emotional escalation of each factor of the quest. The Forest of Myth is weird and little else (at this juncture, of course). The Junk Heap is a personal tragedy, but the actual tragedy has already occurred and you’re just experiencing the fallout. Facade is a powerful and personal tragedy that deserves to be experienced later on. The Aerie is a terrible place and nobody misses it it’s an enormous loss and profoundly traumatic for the party, and it feels like the appropriate apex to basically force them to go to the Castle and finish the fight, having already lost far too much.

Also it’s just super weird to me that they see that devastation, they literally wipe an entire settlement off the map, and then the next day everybody’s super excited to go to a wedding.

It also becomes even weirder that you go to Popola post-Aerie and nobody mentions ‘yeah that didn’t go so well’ but coming out of Seafront they have a legitimate conversation about the loss of the ferryman and the people they’re never getting back. I guess that guy had a personality but I still think maybe somebody should mention the smoking crater where people used to be.

Then again it’s legitimately funny to me how basically everybody is just agreed the world is better off without it.

This might also just be an issue of familiarity. Maybe if I’d always ended on Facade, or actually known that they could be swapped out as they are, it wouldn’t feel so weird. I definitely got used to the pacing with the Aerie at the end and I feel like I got into a debate with somebody about how it’s more appropriate for Facade to come last so this might just be a personal thing. But it’s still a personal thing and I’m still vaguely irritated I can’t figure out how it works.

Anyway I blew up the Aerie So that’s that problem taken care of.

I feel like the ambiance surrounding Wendy was a little creepier this time. I swear I heard that good stock creepy child laughter in the background.

Then the ferryman left This was a nice bit of foreshadowing; following the Aerie events I wanted to hop over to Seafront to take care of an extant sidequest only to find the ferry dock in the Northern Plains empty. I thought that maybe this was just a weird way of railroading you to make sure you went through the Village first, even though there were no scenes that would trigger just by being in the Village.

Alas.

Not gonna lie, when the couple was first introduced I thought for SURE it was going to be the wife who wound up dead. I guess it’s because the guy had a purpose as an NPC so yeah, I was tricked. Good design decision; the ferryman is talkative and bright and definitely difficult to forget and even though he was kinda obnoxious there’s a definite void where his dialogue was. It’s clever too that you’re forced to use the ferry at least once so you can’t escape the dialogue that you’re presented with, meaning that even if you don’t really make use of the ferry you’ll always have that contrast between him at the start of Part II and the other guy (his brother, maybe?) taking over the job and just not really talking to you afterward.

Episode Mermaid First of all, to be clear, I’ve not done the Route B playthrough yet. All I know about the Little Mermaid is what’s presented on the surface, what can be gleaned from there, what I remember reading in the Grimoire NieR short story. This is very much just an impression and reaction to the first encounter and it’s pretty cool.

I like that they managed to go into yet another genre style aping a point-and-click adventure.

I like the atmosphere of the wrecked ship. It really brought me back to the ‘ghost ship’ level archetype with its little hints of spookiness.

I appreciate that it ties subtly in to the Haunted Manor (technically the Part I Seafront dungeon) with Weiss’ utterly irrational fear of ghosts.

I love every excuse they find to get Kaine and Emil (and especially Kaine) out of a situation. It’s almost a running gag that Kaine keeps getting knocked out of dungeons and boss fights. None of them are quite as great as her getting Rules Lawyer’d in the Barren Temple, but there’s something delightful about “Let’s get you some fresh air, we’ll be right outside, be careful!” and then bookending it with Kaine and Emil just chilling at the end like “Well yeah there are a lot of holes in the hull we just popped in.”

(I forgot to go backward to see what happens if you try to take them into Seafront proper, gotta remember that next time.)

Interesting thing when you find some of the dropped apples is that Nier and Weiss talk about the dinner they had with the couple. This was actually a really sweet and oddly emotional conclusion to the added sidequest between the bickering couple-- entirely missable. I would assume the dialogue just doesn’t trigger if you didn’t do the quest but it was a nice touch.

I appreciate the use of dead bodies in the hold.

(That’s a sentence.)

But for the game’s focus on violence and excess of blood it’s very selective in how it uses actual corpses. Any time you see a dead body it really emphasizes the seriousness of the situation. The corpses in the hold and the blood spatter -- especially compared to how bright and clean Seafront as a whole is -- was surprisingly effective. Again, just good atmospheric buildup.

Bit of an anticlimax as a boss, though. It is a really cool boss, between the environmental buildup to the fight and then actually unveiling her, but for how big and scary she is the fight itself went by fairly quick, and the actual finale (the postman whacking her hand telling her to go away she’s groooooss) felt a bit weird in comparison to the way the boss fights in the rest of the game usually play out. Of course, I don’t have context of her dialogue (I can take my guesses, her holding out her hand to Hans as he freaks out and attacks her is already a palpable tragedy) and by the way the scene was framed I suspect the Route B reveal is where the most important part of the scenario lies.

And the seals came back! It’s the little things.

“I wish I was Fyra.” So in the original Replicant the conversation between Emil and Nier before Sech’s wedding was apparently an implication that Emil had a crush on Nier and wanted to marry him. It was ambiguous enough that people had to ask for clarification and some players interpreted it as a weird, childish expression of looking up to and respecting Brother Nier. It was clarified in the Grimoire NieR that Emil is gay and crushing hard on Brother Nier, and this line of dialogue here seems to have been... not made explicit, but changed even between RepliCant and ver. 1.22 to make the implication a little clearer, at least insofar as he isn’t interested in girls. (It winds up missing the implication that he’s into Nier specifically, though.)

...which is funny, because it colors his introduction to the King of Facade somewhat differently. These two meeting is honestly really sweet on a few levels (Sechs recognizing him from Nier’s descriptions, which implies that Nier’s been visiting Sechs regularly and so proud of his interactions with Emil he told the king of another nation all about him, and the King is legit excited to meet him) but then a couple of minutes later Emil is all ‘I’m so jealous of Fyra’. He isn’t crushing on Nier, but he is totally crushing on Sechs.

Endgame At this point in the game the distinction between Brother and Father has become mostly lost and the final charge is pretty much the same as

wait what’s up with the music in the Lost Shrine? This is Snow in Summer.

Or an arrangement thereof. That particular track level from Snow in Summer winds up getting used in a few new places and it has this kind of weird, vague sense of dread that makes it work pretty well. Utterly threw me off in the Lost Shrine, though (I think it’s appropriate given its connection to the Shadowlord/Gestalt Nier so slowly re-introducing it in the climb is pretty cool). It also builds insanely as you climb, which is a very cool effect but, um, I’m just here to pick up some sidequest items right now this feels like a little much.

There isn’t much to say regarding any impact or differences in the large part of this area of the game. It’s a good final dungeon, it carries good momentum, it works as well as it ever did (that is to say, rather well). The emotional beats are great and translate equally well between the protagonists, although I have to give the nod to Papa Nier during a lot of this just for the imagery of such a big, powerful man becoming so broken the further he goes in (and Kaine being strong enough to toss him around like a rag doll anyway).

The final flashback with Nier and Yonah also feels better with Papa Nier. I always read it as, of course, Papa Nier having his moment with Yonah, giving her the flower, and as he lays back down Yonah does the same big sigh like she’s trying to emulate her dad and it’s really sweet. This is another one of those moments where it’s not something that feels wrong in Replicant, but just having that comparison in the back of my head is something that I just can’t help.

Is Papa Nier still Best Neir? Yes.

But there’s room in my heart for Brother. I’m glad the bizarre marketing decision happened and both of these characters can exist.

...and then we reload the save. Okay, okay, so-- so here’s the thing-- I figured that’s a good place to conclude a session, right? Get to the ending, prepare for the next run. But I also know that Route B starts with Kaine’s unskippable novel segments. I’ve read them, of course, so I figure I’ll just reload into Route B so I can make a save after the novel sections, really get into the meat of Route B when I’m fresh.

So skim through those--

Beat up the Knave--

Skim through the rest--

Educated Warrior... didn’t pop...?--

Wait what’s this camera angle--

Why am I outs--

oh my god

oh my god

KAINE AND EMIL HAVING GIGGLY GIRL TALK AROUND THE CAMPFIRE OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

THERE’S MORE.

THERE’S. MORE.

I legit short-circuited. Going in I knew they added the Little Mermaid. I knew they added Ending E. Those were things I suspected would be added and went out to specifically confirm; beyond that I’ve been keeping myself completely spoiler free.

I had no idea there was more. I had no idea this was happening.

I’m so excited.

And a goofy thought for the road

“I polished you with a special cloth, I poured warm water on you--”

“Wait, you poured water on me?”

/imagines Emil running blindfolded eight hours across the Southern Plains with an 8oz plastic water cup, getting to the library, splashing it on Kaine, waiting expectantly

/nothing happens

/walks dejectedly eight hours all the way back to the Manor

[borealis-strange]

Chapter 1: Changes

Summary: 

Vitalina is a 15 year old girl who was born with the ability to see and to communicate with ghosts. She likes to explore abandoned houses and "hunt" ghosts. But she isn't alone, Aiden, the spirit of her cousin, is always with her, making sure she doesn't get hurt.

Notes:

I wrote this back in OCtober but until now I had the courage to post it.

There are going to be two chapters of this story only. Mainly because I don’t know what direction I want to take with this. 

But tell me, do you’ll like it? Should I post more original stories?

Trigger warning: This is story about ghosts and contains topics about death and horror.

-Well you've already appreciated it enough. Now let's go home- Aiden spoke in his husky voice.

Aiden tried to go away a bit but I took him by the hoodie so he wouldn't stray too far.

"We can't go home" I told him "We haven't explored it yet!"

We were both outside an old house in the city.

-I'm not interested. I do not want to die or see ghosts - Aiden said annoyed, marking his Spanish accent even more.

"You can't die" I reminded him without looking away from the house "You're already dead"

Unfortunately, it was true. Aiden had died when he was only 19 years old and before I was born. They were strange circumstances and not even he remembered very well what had happened, more than fleeting memories.

-I know but a ghost can still hurt me -

I decided to ignore him. This always happened. Every time I wanted to explore a little Aiden would constantly complain and he couldn't allow me to do that to me because "His duty was to take care of me." I don't know how true that was; maybe he just wanted to keep me from getting in trouble or hurting me.

Aiden was still complaining when I began to climb the fence that separated us from the house.

-Where are you going? -

I did not answer. I just jumped off the fence to finally be in the yard.

-Vitalina!- Aiden yelled from the other side of the rusted metal fence.

I walked slowly through the main garden of the house. It looked abandoned. Broken glass, worn walls, and a swollen wooden door. The grass was so long that it reached up to my waist; I had to tread carefully so as not to trip over abandoned bricks from those poorly façade walls.

I walked through the porch of the house toward the door. I turned the knob and tried to open it, but it was so swollen with moisture that it didn't budge a bit.

-Too bad we can't get in - Aiden commented sarcastically. - Well, let's go. - And began to float away slowly.

I had walked too much, climbed a fence, and generally tried too hard to just walk away. Besides that the curiosity that everything that was said about this house had generated in me won me over. I pulled up and hit the door with all my weight, hoping it would open, and after a couple of tries I managed to do it. I smiled to myself. As I felt how Aiden put on the same frustrated face that he always did when I achieved my goal and he was dragged by me into a possible problem, again.

I carefully entered the house and left the door ajar behind me, fearing that I would not be able to reopen it.

As soon as I walked in, the first thing I noticed was the pungent musty aroma, it was incredibly strong. The furniture in the living room was cluttered and thrown as if someone had fought inside, quite a violent fight. There were plants crawling through the swollen wooden slab of the floor and moss growing on the walls.

I walked across the room seeing the terrible state of things in there. Books, paintings, furniture, everything spoiled. I kept walking towards the kitchen and walked over to a display case next to the dining room. Inside were some china sets that were immaculate, somewhat strange considering the state of the rest of the house. The most they had was some dust, but other than that they were intact.

-Vitalina, I don't know what you want to get to with this, get out of there and let's go home please, an animal or something is going to come out for you. - Said Aiden, notoriously nervous.

-Come on, it's fun to explore, you better come check out the amazing china here. Hopefully they are even collectible. - I replied to Aiden, who was looking at me worriedly from the door.

-Come on Vida, I don't have a good feeling about this place-

-It's just your nervousness, Aiden. Come, let's go to the warehouse to see what there is. -

I peeked through a door that was between the kitchen and a hallway. I opened it and to my surprise it opened without the greatest care. Making an irritating (and creepy if I may say so) screeching, you know, typical of haunted houses. When the door opened, I noticed that it was a narrow corridor, with some stairs of which I only saw 3 or 4 wooden steps leading to total darkness. A switch and a light bulb hanging from the low ceiling just above my head. I was pondering whether to come down or not, leaning in, when I heard Aiden from the living room.

-Vitalina! You are not thinking of going down to an abandoned warehouse in total darkness of the most haunted house in the area, are you? You know that someone can hurt us, right?

Exploring houses was a strange hobby I had had since Iwas twelve. And from the first time I did it Aiden always tried to stop me for fear that he would hurt me. He was partly right, going to an abandoned house was not the safest thing in the world, I usually chose the ones that had a story behind them, the ones that everyone rumored voices were heard; I chose where there were ghosts.

Another reason I liked doing this was because of the history behind these houses. Many times they had antique furniture, books and all kinds of things that one could not imagine, and despite explaining thousands of times and assuring him that everything would be fine, Aiden always insisted that he not do it because it would get me in trouble. I could be right, but I always ignored it because nothing ever happened to me.

I was standing in front of those wooden steps and that threatening darkness. I checked the switch next to me, but it didn't turn the light bulb on. After my vision adjusted a bit to the darkness, I managed to make out an old oil lamp on a ledge almost above my head, along with its respective spare oil. Luckily, I remembered that I had seen a box of matches in the trench cabinet where the dishes were, so I went to get them, leaving the lamp on the shelf again.

Aiden watched me as he walked back to the kitchen.

-Did you already regret doing this? - Aiden said slightly mockingly, waiting for the opportunity to boast of always having been right, but deep down he hoped that he would answer yes to leave without risk.

-No. I actually came to find something to help me down, and you will come with me. Or well, you can stay in the living room and wait for a ghost to come out. After all, we don't know what we can find around here ... - I said lighting a match to see if they still worked so that we could light the lamp.

The match lit, emitting a small flame of fire that danced with my breath. The match being old was a bit longer, so I walked back to the warehouse covering the flame so it wouldn't go out. I lowered the lamp from the mantel and turned it on, all this while Aiden looked at me concerned, nothing different than usual, although this time I noticed that his concern was slightly greater. Maybe it was just that this was a considerably different situation because most likely that place was guarded by some ghost, one that may not be quite good.

-Come on, Aiden, let's get down. -

-You can not be serious. -

-Do you want to see I am? - I said, starting to go down the stairs that creaked with every step I took.

-Well, I'll go, but if there's a ghost, don't say I didn't warn you.

We started going down the stairs and it seemed eternal, but I counted about 17 steps.

As we went down, Aiden reminded me of all the legends that had been told of that supposedly haunted house, since he used to be part of those who told those stories. That the old man lived there in the 1920s, and was a bitter old man who did not allow even daylight or fresh air, but the few times he was seen outside, it was narrated that he had a grotesque and unkempt: Covered with layers of clothing and the scent of sweat; with thin, graying and battered hair, and bulging yellow eyes. Around his isolation and strange appearance, legends began to be generated around him, that he was a very eccentric collector, or he was a kind of child-eater and roamed the streets at night looking for victims. In my opinion, he surely was just a sturdy and bitter man who avoided contact with other human beings at all costs for sheer comfort.

We finally reached the basement, so dark and icy that I was sure the little lamp would go out at any moment, although it was lighting better than I thought, but still it was not enough, since the room looked huge. Once my eyes adjusted a little better, I began to move around the room. I pointed the flashlight at a wooden beam in the ceiling, which looked full of small lumps. Suddenly, a group of bats spread their wings and flew off into another dark corner. Wow, this basement was quite an ecosystem.

I pointed the lamp elsewhere in the dim room and could only glimpse a few shelves with empty glass jars and other shelves and furniture covered in dusty sheets. Well, it was somewhat gloomy, but my desire to know what would be under those blankets got the better of me and I started to get closer making the wooden planks under my feet creak.

I finally got there, and as I carefully tugged on the sheet I was horrified and Aiden looked paler than he already was. The shelves were crammed with jars labeled in minute handwriting and filled with liquid with human organs floating in them. We uncovered each of the covered furniture and they all had the same. We were horrified watching the scene when a gust of icy wind assaulted us accompanied by a shiver and an awful deep, hoarse voice telling us: You shouldn't have come here.

Aiden and I turned and froze. A horrendous specter, which perfectly fit the description of the urban legends about the man who used to live there, only about 10 times more horrifying. Huge, greenish, hunchbacked, sloppy looking, and drooling ectoplasm, stood a specter that was undeniably evil.

The ghost threw his hand out to catch us, but we jumped and Aiden yelled "run!" while he floated in terror. We began to run avoiding obstacles guiding us with the remaining light of the lamp towards the stairs.

The ghost was chasing us as we started up the stairs. On the run, I tripped and one of my hearing aids fell to the ground. I hurried back to pick it up (and praying nothing happened to it) Aiden tried to outwit the ghost. I got up and we kept running towards the door. We opened the basement door, ran through the kitchen, and as we were about to reach the living room where the front door was, the ghost got in the way of the door that Aiden had left ajar, but the wind just opened it all the way. I managed to slip under the ghost, ran through the main garden and managed to escape through an opening in the metal fence that we did not see from the outside, but Aiden did not have the same reflexes, so he slammed into the ghost on his first attempt to run and then slipped down just like me. Filled with greenish ectoplasm, he floated over the garden quickly with the ghost following him and flew over the fence. From the other side of the sidewalk, we saw how the ghost could not get past the metal fence. It was as if some force field stopped him.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud once the danger was over.

-What are you laughing at !? - Aiden yelled, regaining his composure after the tremendous shock that we both had.

-Well, you are ... Green and slimy! - I said laughing even more.

-You can't perceive it, but this smells awful. - Aiden said annoyed

-That makes it even funnier. -

-Well, stop laughing and let's go home. If I remember correctly, your mother had said that she wanted to see you.

We walked back to the house, and I couldn't look at Aiden for more than three seconds without starting to laugh again, because his bitter face matched the green slime soaked in his clothes and hair. I preferred to keep my composure, since whoever saw me would think I'm crazy for laughing out of nowhere.

We finally arrived and I went into my house being careful not to make too much noise. It wasn't especially late, it was just getting dark, but still I had been scolded long enough to always be careful.

My mother was in the living room, reading the newspaper. As soon as she heard me she got up and walked towards me, apparently, she was waiting for me.

-I'm glad you came back - My mother pointed out with soft gestures - You have to see the things in the cellar, you've already put it off for a long time and I really need you to check it.

I looked away. I had been avoiding that at all costs. It had been almost a year since my grandmother passed away and it seemed like a few days ago. In the cellar were the things that she had kept for me. To no one's surprise, I was my grandmother's favorite, which is why several of her cousins disliked me, and that meant keeping her most special belongings for her. It wasn't anything of great value, just things that she had collected over the years that carried great sentimental weight. In part I knew why I had to keep them: we both shared the same "ghostly" abilities. But even so I flatly refused to review them.

My mother took me by the shoulder to get my attention back.

-I know this is difficult,-she signed out, trying to comfort me.- But you have to. Even though Grandma is no longer here with us, you know that all her love stayed with you, baby, and part of it is in having left you all those belongings that were important to her. She will always be with you,Vida. You know it right?

I nodded slightly and blinked quickly to keep the tears that were forming from falling onto my cheeks. My mother hugged me. We last like this for a few seconds before we part.

"I’ll do it" I signed slowly.

My mother smiled at me and let me go.

-Are you sure you're ready for this? -Aiden asked, floating behind me.

"When will I be?" I told her as we headed to the backyard.

I climbed the metal stairs to get to the cellar. I sighed deeply before entering.

The cellar was the size of a small room, crammed with boxes that obscured the walls. It had a strong dusty smell that made my stomach turn. This was where they kept the Christmas decorations and all the things that my mother did not want in the house, mainly things from my father that I never knew where he got them from. There were also a couple of things from my older brother, Ricardo, that he had left at home when he left the town to study but never came back for them.

It was easy to identify where my grandmother's things were, it stood out a lot. It was a rather large and heavy wooden chest, with metal edges, engraved with the initials “L. V ". I approached the chest and sat in front of it, still not wanting to open it. This chest was owned by my grandmother for as long as I can remember; I remember that when I was a child she always showed me all the wonders that were in there, from little glass figurines to old books that she used to read to me before bed.

Finally I plucked up my courage and opened the chest.

At the top were two cards and a faded blue blanket that covered the rest of the contents. I put the letters aside and moved the blanket to see what else was inside.

-Are you not going to read it?- Aiden said as he took one of the letters. - He says it's for you -

"I'm not ready yet" I said.

Aiden didn't insist further for which I silently thanked him.

Inside the chest were several neatly organized small boxes, old books and other items covered with cloth to protect them.

I took one of the boxes and inspected its interior. I took one of the boxes and inspected its interior. It had several colored marbles that reminded me of a galaxy. I set them aside and continued exploring the contents of the chest.

I continued to investigate the inside of the chest. Old books, some manuscripts, more photos, some beautiful embroidery and other curiosities, such as a peculiar wax seal and small boxes with funny items inside.

-Hey-Aiden got my attention-I think you should read this-he said as he handed me one of the letters.

The envelope was yellowish and had a red wax seal on it. On the back it said:

“For Vitalina Steklov Romero. By Mirabella Strange Open as soon as it is received "

I remembered this letter. It had been given to me by my grandmother before she passed away. I never opened it, obviously, because I didn't want to read what was inside. I hadn't even seen the back because I assumed she wrote it. After a year I found out that it was from a complete stranger.

I broke the seal and took out the letter. It was completely blank. I looked at Aiden confused as if he had the answer but he was the same or more confused than me.

Suddenly, a lot of letters began to be written on the old paper at a speed that made them unreadable. They filled the paper from both sides and kept popping up, to the point that it looked like the paper was going to explode. They began to shoot forward in spurts, the paper began to heat up rapidly, and out of nowhere the letter began to burn in green flames. Instinctively I released it and took a few steps back until I hit the wall. Aiden was just as scared as I was.

What started out as a small green flame began to spread.

The flames intensified without burning anything and a whirlwind of letters began to form a female figure. Tall, incredibly thin and with remarkable elegance. Her features were defined, but as the fire intensified, they became more and more marked. Finally, the flames spun rapidly, formed a cocoon and disappeared, leaving green glows in the air and a woman standing on the letter paper on the ground. Without a doubt she was quite different from any woman I had seen, because although I am thin, she was at least 10 times thinner than me. She was… skeletal. Very elegant to wear, with a large hat and with many flowers, the gaze towards the floor, long black hair with flowers stuck in it, a tight and light Mexican pink dress with long sleeves with traditional embroidery. They were very much like the things my grandmother did. Finally when she lifted her face, her skeletal body made sense. A thin face, made of bone, that made it clear that she was the Grim reaper.

The woman when she saw me began to tell me something but the terror and the fact that my hearing aid was damaged by the fall that it suffered, I could not understand anything she told me. I managed to read her lips a couple of times but I couldn't concentrate.

The only thing I managed to grasp was: "I've been waiting for you" "You have to come with me" and something from the ... Underworld?

When the woman finished her impressive presentation, she looked at me for my answer. I thought about telling her that I was deaf and she hadn't gotten anything, but I preferred to just nod my head slowly pretending I knew she had told me.

She said something else with an angry face but this time I didn't understand anything. Fortunately Aiden was the one who spoke to her since I could not articulate a word.

-Excuse me, but my friend can't hear you - Aiden said with a slightly annoyed tone and his voice still shaky.

The woman's face changed to one of concern. She said something else to Aiden, without changing her worried face.

-Yes- Aiden answered a question -She can hear me perfectly.

The woman smiled in relief and Aiden began to recite what the woman was saying.

"Vitalina Steklov. I have been waiting for this meeting. I'm sorry for the sudden arrival but you were supposed to receive that letter a year ago. Let me introduce myself; I am Mirabella Strange better known as the grim reaper. I need you to come with me to the Underworld, immediately. "

Was I understanding her well? The grim reaper herself was looking for me.

-Why? - It was the only thing I managed to say.

-Didn't your grandmother tell you? - Aiden asked. I did not know if it was a question of him or of the Grim reaper.

I just shook my head in Aiden's direction.

-Vitalina, - Aiden repeated the words of Grim reaper - You were born with a very unique ability, the ability to see ghosts. Which makes you ... An heir of the grim reaper. -

Now I was more confused than before. It was obvious that I was special for seeing ghosts but I never thought I was an "heir of the grim reaper", whatever that means. And apparently my grandmother knew something about it but she had never told me. Did anyone else know this? Did my mother know or did she hide it? I had to talk with her.

-I know you are very confused - Aiden continued - But it is your duty to continue with your grandmother's legacy.

Her death offered me her hand to go with her to the Underworld. I took a step back, rejecting her offer.

-I can't leave - I said in a low voice - At least not yet -

Death looked at me with sad eyes and said something else that Aiden didn't repeat.

The envelope fell apart and the pieces of paper floated in the air, forming a whirlwind that engulfed Mirabella and finally disappeared, dropping the small pieces of paper all over the room.

As soon as death was gone, I quickly left the cellar and headed for the house.

-Where are you going? -Aiden asked, floating behind me.

-To my room, where else? - I answered annoyed.

I went into my room and threw myself on my bed. My head was spinning. Not knowing what to do. How come I didn't know about this? Did my family know anything about it?

-Are you alright? - Aiden asked.

-No, why would I be? I just found out something that is VERY significant in my life and that will change it completely, and worse, that my grandmother kept it from me all the time.

Suddenly I thought about it. If my grandmother knew it and she had kept it from me, maybe Aiden has always known it too.

-Did you know anything about it, Aiden? - I asked without seeing his face.

He was silent for a few seconds. He stuttered.

-Yes-he said almost in a whisper.

Deep down I expected it, but, what a stab.

And why the hell didn't you tell me? - I said hurt, almost crying.

Aiden sighed moving slightly closer to me, to which I ducked away on the bed.

-I couldn't -He said heavily-It was a ... secret -his tone of voice denoted guilt.

-How can you keep something like that a secret? And why me, Aiden? - I started crying.

-I couldn't say it as much as I wanted to. I promised. Sorry, Vida. -

I wanted to hit Aiden right then but unfortunately I couldn't.

[limited-practice]

Unstable Structure

I was talking with @jet-teeth about this post https://jet-teeth.tumblr.com/post/190467330915/starstruckswordsmech-autobots-the-reason-why and the great art she drew of it, and I got such a clear image of Intense Sunder on the left poking out a block with his needle tipped finger, Horrified Hubcap on the right, and Fed up Ambulon in the middle, and just had to write something. It was a great excuse to think about my favorites and to write something silly and fun.

2757 words of Sunder, Ambulon and Hubcap playing Jenga are under the cut.

Ambulon looked balefully at the tower of rectangular wooden blocks on the table in front of him. “Remind me why we have to play this again?”

“Well,” Hubcap said slowly, “It’s because Swerve- you know, the owner of the bar we’re all in? The metallurgist that likes Earth a lot?”

“I’m well aware of who our alt-mode curious barkeep is.”

“Ha, yeah, right. So. This is one of his favourite games and- and I think it was his birthday the other day and he wanted us all to celebrate it with him, so he told us to get into teams so we could play it together? In teams and compete with one another? Or maybe it was the anniversary of his bar opening. Or was it because it was the beginning of the week and he liked the name of the day?”

Ambulon tipped his head back and stared at the stained ceiling.

>he desires the company of others because he is lonely.

Sunder lent forward over the table and looked intently at the stack of blocks he’d finished building.

>there is a gaping chasm of nothingness circling his spark, and he’s sacred that it will pull him into its black depths and drown him by soft degrees. But he should not fear the darkness. He should learn to embrace it. He should learn how to hold it close and kiss it with the softness it deserves. 

Ambulon swiveled his eyes to his teammate on his right. 

Sunder’s hollow eye sockets bored into Ambulon’s face. 

>you are never lonely in the dark. 

Ambulon swiveled his eyes to his teammate on his left. 

“Remind me why I got stuck on this table again?”

“That’s…” Hubcap bristled. “I don’t think you’re one to talk. Much.” 

Ambulon raised his head and sat up straight. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Out of everyone on this table you’re, well, the only Decepticon. Ex-Decepticon. Teamwork isn’t exactly your, uh, strength.” 

Ambulon lent forward and pointed a sharp finger at Hubcap’s Autobot badge. “Out of everyone on this table, I’m the only one who hasn’t murdered someone I worked with.” 

“That’s-…true. So. Well. Right.” Hubcap grimaced. “Sorry. Um. Didn’t mean to cause offence there, and-” 

“Yes you did.”

 >yes you did. 

“Look, can we just play? Please? I-…the two of you are looking at me and…and you haven’t even gone yet Sunder. You need to take your turn first because you built the tower.” 

>the first to make their move is ahead of those who allow the insidious vines of doubt and decay to wrap their oily lengths around them and s q u e e z e out the light that never had a chance to breed.

“So…you’re thinking about it?” 

Streams of dark air vented out of Sunder’s facial pipes and hung heavily around him, like a halo of corrupted smoke. 

>I am not like the others. 

Hubcap and Ambulon exchanged a look. 

>I was born to build by taking away. 

“Alright,” Ambulon said, in the weary tone of voice he used with a patient who thought they knew better but didn’t. “Let’s get this show on the road. If I lose to First Aid’s table then I’ve got deep cleaning duty for a month and I do not, I repeat do not, want that. So take a block away Sunder and let’s get going. Let’s get building. Let’s get winning!” 

Ambulon looked at Hubcap. “See, I can be a team player. I am a team player.” 

Hubcap’s eyes fixated on the peeling paint on Ambulon’s thumbs up. “…uh-huh. 

“I was part of a combiner you know. I’m the very definition of a team player, so don’t accuse me of not being one again.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know what it’s like to not be supported or appreciated, and I won’t do that to others. I won’t do it to you, my teammates, who I trust and respect and- SUNDER YOU SLAGGING MORON WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T DO THAT YOU’LL- OH SHIT YOU JUST DID IT, YOU JUST DID IT.” 

Ambulon covered his eyes and Hubcap looked at the Jenga stack in horror.

One of Sunder’s needle tipped fingers was pushing a block at the very bottom.

“Why?” Hubcap whispered. 

>it is burdened by the sins of those crushing it from above. I am here to relieve its suffering. 

Ambulon dragged his fingers down his face. “We’ve lost. That’s it, we’ve lost. I’ve now got deep cleaning duty for a month thanks to you, you idiot.” 

Sunder tilted his head and looked at Ambulon in a way that lowered the room’s temperature by ten degrees. 

Several bots dotted around the room shivered and looked around in confusion. 

Ambulon glared right back at Sunder. “Don’t think you can intimidate me you self-important smoke stack, because you can’t. I was a Decepticon medic don’t forget. A Decepticon. Medic. I’ve seen things that would make your eyes jump back into your sockets and fall out again. In fact they’d melt out of your face. They’d run down your front and stain your plating and seep into your vents and cause a build-up of optical rust that would require seven separate surgeries to fix. And I know all of this because it happened to a senior ‘Con who’s name I won’t mention, and because I assisted with surgeries two, three and four and took charge of number six.” 

>the blocks are screaming. 

Ambulon shook his head and Hubcap twisted his fingers together. 

“I’m going to scream,” Ambulon said. “I’m going to scream out loud.” 

“I’m going to scream silently,” Hubcap said. “Very silently and very loudly inside my head. If that makes sense. Ha. I don’t want to make too much of a scene.” 

Ambulon gave him a curious sort of look. “Yeah you can do that, can’t you? Make things happen just by thinking about them?” 

“Well it’s not- ha, it’s not that straightforward. I mean it’s easy for me to block or boost a signal because it’s part of who I am and comes as easily as breathing. Not that we breathe anyway, since we don’t have lungs and aren’t exposed to an oxygen rich atmosphere a lot of the time, and I just mean that as an Outlier I can do the things that…yeah.” 

Ambulon tapped a world weary finger on top of the table. “As eloquent as ever, thank you.” 

Hubcap’s blue eyes darkened. “What’s your problem?” 

“What’s my problem? You want to know what my problem is? My problem is you and him and being on the losing team for this stupid game I didn’t want to play in the first place.” 

“That’s more than one problem.” 

“Have you always been the most popular bot in the room, or is this a recent development?” 

>quiet. Both of you. I can’t hear the blocks. 

“Because they’re talking to you?” Ambulon asked flatly. “Because they’re whispering sweet words of longing into your ear and begging for your tender touch?” 

>you can hear them too? 

“For the love of-” 

“You could, ah, move that block back?” Hubcap suggested. “And choose another one?” 

>no. 

“Right. No. Of course not. But.” 

>there is no space for doubt or time to dwell on it. It is a deceitful trick, and we must ignore it. We are moving forward, and cannot look back. 

Sunder pushed the block a tiny bit more. The entire structure wobbled. 

“You can’t look at it anyway,” Ambulon said, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “since you don’t have any eyes.” 

Sunder made a noise that could dissolve metal and evaporate acid. 

“Hey,” Ambulon said, looking sharply at Hubcap, who involuntarily flinched. “You could use you mind moving powers! Push that block back into place where it belongs, and allow needle-fingers here to rethink one of his life choices and to do the right thing.  

“Woah! That, urr, might be…” Hubcap glanced around nervously and lowered his voice to a hissing whisper. “Against the rules. It might be cheating. You want me to cheat?”

“Show me where it says so in the rules.” 

“I, ha, judging by the tone of your voice already know you know it’s not in the rule book, but- but we shouldn’t do it. I won’t do it. It’s wrong.” 

“It’s wrong of me to suffer deep cleaning duty because of the two of you.” 

“How is this my fault?” As always when he got pissed off and geared himself up to deliver a speech, Hubcap’s voice thickened and steadied and all his self-doubt and stuttering vanished. “I didn’t build the structure and didn’t make the first move, Sunder did. I didn’t even get the chance to build the structure and, depending on your outlook, therefore be awarded or burdened with the first move. I’m not at fault here! I’m innocent! I’m just trying my best to do the right thing and get into the spirit of the evening and I keep getting dragged down by your miserable attitude and I won’t, I won’t, be sent to prison again for committing the crime of cheating! It’s fair enough I got a long sentence because I was a traitor and a killer and was one push of a button away from re-starting the war, but I won’t go back to that modified solitary containment cell with no windows and bad smells just because you don’t want to do some cleaning in what sounds like a filthy medical facility!” 

Sunder trapped his tongue between his teeth in concentration and pushed the bottom block out further. 

“Are you done?” Ambulon asked Hubcap flatly. “Have you got all that out of your system now? Or are you going to work yourself up even more and have a spark attack and short circuit all the electrics and turn off the ship’s anti-gravity pumps?” 

“No,” Hubcap sulked. 

Ambulon’s face lightened. “Because if you did, then we wouldn’t have to play anymore! Every structure would get knocked over in the dark or come apart and fly away!” 

“You do…know that’s still cheating, don’t you? Or do I need to edit my speech and deliver it again?” 

>the cold shadow is almost lifted and our friend is nearly free.

Sunder poked his chosen block again, and the entire tower shifted. 

Ambulon sighed. 

“And it doesn’t work like that,” Hubcap continued, not quite ready and not quite willing to wind himself back down. “I can’t manipulate an electromagnetic signal unless I’ve been in contact with it first. And I haven’t had cause to study and absorb the ship’s gravitational system, so. No.” 

“What about the lights?” 

“What about them?” 

“Could you turn them off?” 

“I…yes. That would be an easy block. But I’m not going to.” 

“You could say it was an accident,” Ambulon pressed him. By now First Aid had seen the state of Ambulon’s table and was pointing and laughing at him. “You’ve blocked things by accident before, right?” 

“I…yeah. Yeah I have.” 

“Like what?”

>like what?

 Hubcap blinked at the sudden interest from both of them.

 “Uh, well, this one time I…accidentally blocked the signal to an energon refueling system and, um, racked up a six figure repair bill for it.”

“Why?”

>how?

 “Ha, that- well I was, um, in my room one morning and…having a good time and…finished, and…”

 “Please stop.”

>who were you with?

“Both of you can just stop.” 

“Uh, just myself. Yeah. It was intense.” 

Sunder leaned forward in interest. 

>what exactly were you doing?

“I’m not going to say this again.” Ambulon said, raising his voice. “I’m not! And I don’t want to. So for one last time just Stop. Both of you. Let’s veer away from this unpleasant diversion and focus on this stupid game instead.”

“Oh,” Hubcap said, his eyes narrowing in his flushed face, “I see. You’re only interested in this stupid game when it suits you, and when you want me to shut up. That’s rude. And unprofessional. I have nothing to be ashamed about!”

“Except you clearly are.”

“Yes, well, that’s my choice. Sort of. The point is that you shouldn’t make someone uncomfortable for something that happens naturally to their body. I thought you were a medic? And that you’ve seen things no mortal bot should ever have to see?” 

“Seeing is far better than imagining, believe me,” Ambulon said. “And just because I can cope with something doesn’t mean I want to expose myself to it.”

>talking of exposing…

The tower trembled and tilted as Sunder continued to push the center bottom block out.

>look. It’s nearly free.

“And we’ve nearly lost.” 

“Yeah,” Hubcap agreed miserably. 

Ambulon and Hubcap watched in shared fatalism as Sunder pushed the block further and further out, and the tower tilted and trembled more and more and more. But didn’t fall. It didn’t collapse. The block was sliding out and against all odds the structure was holding. 

They both lifted themselves up from their seats and braced themselves on the table with flat splayed hands, and watched the miracle unfold in front of them with wide eyes and open mouths. 

They were going to win. 

Despite everything, they were going to win. Sunder was going to do the impossible and build the magnificent and not lose and they’d all be hailed as heroes and- 

SMASH!

The tower collapsed instantly.

Sunder plucked out his chosen block from the pile of rubble.  

>you’re free now. 

Ambulon and Hubcap slumped back into their seats. 

“That was terrible,” Ambulon muttered. 

“It was a very poor choice,” Hubcap agreed. 

First Aid made a loud noise, and once he got Ambulon’s attention, he made mopping and sweeping and cleaning and vomiting gestures. Pharma laughed out loud and Ratchet rolled his eyes. 

Ambulon glanced down at the table. 

“I, err,” Hubcap began. “Sorry you have to do that. Go back to them. I know what it’s like to do something you don’t want to do in front of people you don’t want to be watching.” 

“Whatever. It’s fine.” 

“I’ll help you.” 

Ambulon looked up and narrowed his golden eyes, which were now burning brighter. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve already lost one bet, and I don’t want to be in debt to another person.” 

“It’s unconditional. I just…want to. For a teammate. For you.” 

A flurry of emotions blew across Ambulon’s face. “OK.” He looked down and away and back up. “Thank you.” 

Hubcap nodded. “And if…something gets blocked, like the codes to Pharma’s favourite food and drink orders out of every single dispenser machine there is, then, well, accidents do happen.” 

Ambulon smiled, and the flurry settled warmly. “Many accidents happen on this ship. It’s a chaotic place at times.” 

Hubcap nodded again. “So do we…start work now?” 

“Hell no.” Ambulon stood up and pushed his chair back. “We drink now. We’re the first team out of this contest, which means we get the pick of seats and don’t have to wait to be served. Let’s get that table over there and start a tab.” 

Hubcap stood up as well, and neatly pushed his chair back under the table. 

Sunder looked up at them, and a shadow crawled across his sunken face.

>you are both going. You are both leaving me in the debris of my unexpected failure. 

Ambulon tutted. “Stop sulking. We’re going to the table and you’re going to the bar to start the tab. You’re buying all of our drinks tonight.” 

Sunder stood up and smiled a smile that could carve through planets.

>what do you enjoy consuming, my medic friend? 

“The tears of my enemies.” 

>me too. 

“I thought you were more into memories and the reeking remnants of brain modules?” 

>I enjoy variety every now and again.

“Fair play to you. Come on team, let’s retire and drink and pass amusing judgement on others who think they know better.” 

>agreed. 

“Hell yes. I mean heck yes. I mean-” 

“And you’re buying the drinks the next time we play a group game and lose within seconds.” 

“Agreed,” Hubcap said immediately. “But…” 

“But that implies we’re going to lose again?” Ambulon supplied. 

“But that…implies you want us both as your teammates again.” 

Sunder took Ambulon’s hand, opened it, put the chosen block in his palm, and carefully wrapped his fingers around it to form a fist. 

>a momentum of our first time together. 

Ambulon glanced down at his fist. The small wooden block felt warm within in. “Thanks. I think.” 

>you are welcome. 

“Yeah. Yeah I guess I am.”

[peachy-blinderss]

What? I Am a Good Girl.

Written for the following request: 

Could you do a Tommy one where everyone thinks you're some good girl that doesn't get mixed up in the business, but one day they find you helping Tommy get a hit planned out?

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Alcohol, guns, Mentions of death and beatings. Typical Peaky stuff. 

Word Count: 1042

Ok so I may have gotten a little carried away. i seriously had a blast writing this and it felt so good to write again. I hope it is what you expected dear requester and I hope it’s what you imagined. I will be doing a part two for this because it needs it and I didn’t think I could fully develop the plot in one go. I seriously love friends to lovers AUs especially with Tommy so watch out world because it’s headed that way. This fic was inspired by two songs.

This first is “I’m a Good Girl” from Burlesque (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDPR5EoYqOs)

and the second is “Good Girls” by 5SOS (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0FfG_5JBVBQ)

I would definitely recommend listening to these songs to get in the mindset for this fic. Please go easy on me as I haven’t edited it yet and I am very rusty. I know the formatting s a little f-ed up and clunky but I need to shake the rust off lol. Drop a comment if you like it! 

Much love, 

Lex

xx

Also someone remind me how to insert that line thing across posts because it doesn’t give me the option anymore lmao. 

Another note: I will be without Wifi for the next week because I am going to stay with my elderly grandma and she does not have it. I will do what I can on my phone, but it also seems impure to write smut and fanfiction next to my 85 year old grandma lmao. 

                                                        ✺ ✺

    You were always a good girl. You always did what you were told in order to please your demanding father. Or so he thought. While you loved him dearly, he didn’t have the most modern thoughts on how women should behave. Running around with rowdy boys was not something he looked upon fondly. He wanted you to have a better life than he gave you, so he made sure you took your studies seriously. He was not keen on you running around with the Shelby boys, and much preferred when you did schoolwork with Ada. Nevertheless, you and Ada still followed the boys around like lost puppies, bookbags trailing behind you. 

     The Shelby’s had always seen you as a little sister. Well almost all of them did. Tommy and Ada were the only exception. While the others couldn’t get past your manners and pristine school uniform, Tommy always saw through you. You were the same age as Tommy and he always encouraged your sense of adventure. It was he who you had your first sip of alcohol with on your father’s roof. It was he who taught you how to throw a left hook. It was he who taught you how to shoot a gun. He drug you out of the library many a night to go drinking at the Garrison. He saw the sides of you didn’t show anyone else. 

       You had been friends since nearly the womb and were inseparable. Your sharp tongue kept Tommy in his place when everyone else was too afraid to tell him off and he loved that about you. He admired your intelligence, and as you grew older and he took over the family business, he began consulting you on nearly everything. Everyone thought Arthur was his right-hand man, but secretly, it was really you. Even still, Tommy did try to hide the nastier parts of the business from you. Despite this, you were far too sharp to not notice the bruises and scabbed knuckles. You let Tommy believe you were unaware of the illegal side of the business until the night he showed up at your flat beaten bloody. He pushed away your concerned hands and slumped in a kitchen chair. You knew better than to speak first so you quietly got some whiskey as Tommy lit a cigarette. You sat down across from him at your tiny kitchen table and poured him a drink. He downed it in one go. Typical. 

     Tommy stubbed out his cigarette and ran his bruised hands across his weary face. He titled his head back and let out an agitated sigh. After what seemed like hours, he finally spoke. 

“I’m in trouble y/n,” he said while raising his eyes to meet yours. 

    You scoffed in response. Secretly, you were scared. Tommy always put on a brave front for you. He knew you were easily stressed and often lied to you about what violent things he was taking part in. You knew whatever he was dealing with must have been bad if he was telling you about it willingly. Nevertheless, you tried to make light of the situation to calm your shaking heart. 

“When aren’t you in trouble Thomas,” you said sarcastically. 

   Tommy only rolled his eyes in response, before putting a bloody handgun on your worn table. Your eyes zeroed in on his dexterous fingers as he quickly took a bullet out of the gun’s chamber. You were confused until he handed you the bullet. Your breath caught in your throat as you ran your finger over the Tommy crudely scratched onto the bullet’s side. 

“Tommy, what the fuck is this? Are you playing a joke on me right now? Because this is not funny,” you said quickly. 

 He looked at you and laughed mirthlessly. 

“You are smarter than that y/n,” he sighed out. “Found this on some bloke’s body after I killed him. He and some other goons jumped me as I was locking the door to the Birmingham factory. He was the only one I managed to kill, the others got away.”

    You reached across the table and grabbed his hands. You were furious that this happened to your best friend and you were willing to do anything to help him. 

“Who were they Tommy? Don’t lie to me because I know you know.” 

“They were foot soldiers from this small-time gang in Manchester. Those fuckers have been harassing our bookies for months. James Burton leads them and he is one ambitious fucker I’ll give him that,” he grunted out as he lit another cigarette. 

“How can I help, you know I’ll do whatever I can Tommy. Please let me,” you begged as you pleadingly grabbed his forearm. He glared at you as soon as you finished speaking. 

“It’s too dangerous for you y/n you know you can’t…” 

     You cut him off before he could finish speaking. He sighed because you were stubborn just like him and he knew you wouldn’t give up until he heard what you had to say.

“Do not tell me I can’t help Thomas. I know the business better than anybody. I’m quick with a gun, and no one would suspect a woman. Please I can help you, just trust me,” you said indignantly. 

         Part of him knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but the other part of him knew he sought you out for a reason. He trusted you more than anyone and he was struggling with keeping this from you. Despite this, he couldn’t imagine what he would do if you got hurt. Your soft voice and teary eyes broke his resolve.

“Please Tommy, I can do this, I know I can,” you tried to say as firmly as possible through your tears. 

      Tommy sighed heavily. He would do anything for you and he would do whatever possible to give you what you wanted, you knew it too. He had a lot of thinking to do if this was going to work. He stood abruptly.

“Fine. Be at my office at 7 am sharp to go over the details. Do not be late or the whole thing is off,” he huffed out. 

      You smiled happily as he planted a quick kiss to your head and walked out the door.

[aliceslantern]

Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 6

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Ienzo has a conversation with Ansem, leading him to a crucial realization about his feelings for Riku.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Riku did seem awfully despondent when that day came. Ienzo insisted he not spend it alone, that he come to Radiant Garden. Somewhere along the way Riku’s emotional wellbeing had become important to him, though why he wasn’t sure.

Well. He knew why .

All this time spent together. Ienzo may have been inexperienced, but he wasn’t naive. He could see Riku looking at him, sometimes, out of the corner of his eye. Whatever was happening between them was clearly growing and also clearly mutual. Thinking about it too hard made his palms sweat and his heart race--with anxiety.

He wasn’t good enough. Riku’d had--mostly a normal life. He deserved someone whole and who could be completely emotionally available to him. This had to be a passing attraction--a combination of Ienzo’s newfound feelings and Riku’s boredom. That was all.

But if it was passing … how come over the course of these months, and the time they’d only gotten to know each other better… why was it getting stronger ?

Ienzo realized that he desperately wanted to talk to someone about this. He also realized that the person he most wanted to discuss it with, the person whose opinion on the matter was most important, was Riku, and the notion of doing that felt like cutting the wrong wire on a bomb. After all, once his friends were back, wouldn’t Riku just go home… and move on with his life? It was unrealistic to expect him to stay here for Ienzo.

He wasn’t sure he liked the way this felt.

“Ienzo?”

His head snapped up from the tablet in his hands. “Yes, Master?”

Ansem sighed. “How many times must I tell you to call me by my name?”

“I’m… sorry. Habit,” he lied. In reality, it felt undeserved. Everything still felt undeserved. He and Ansem had sat down multiple times to talk and try to get to know each other better, but as gracious as the man was, Ienzo still felt an awful pang of guilt.

“Forgive me, but… something seems to weigh heavily on your heart. Moreso than usual,” he said.

Ienzo looked into his rust-colored eyes. This man was his father , he forced himself to think, and as much as that was the truth it was still difficult to internalize. “I suppose it must be quite obvious,” he said.

“Well, yes. Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes? Have some tea?”

He glanced back over at Kairi.

“The girl can wait a little while, I think,” Ansem said gently.

Ienzo tried to swallow the nerves. They went back into the office, gathered yet more tea. His feet throbbed when he sat down.

“So what is it?” Ansem asked.

He took a deep breath. “I feel… undeserving,” he began. “Of so many things. Receiving any comfort from you after what I’ve put you through, firstly.”

“Ienzo, you were not the one to oust me from this place. You said yourself that you were a child, and they lied to you about the reason for my… disappearance.” He winced.

“Even so. If I had not convinced you to build that lab--”

“If I recall correctly, the intentions for it were much different, much less insidious, at the time,” Ansem continued. “Not to mention… the others, especially Xehanort, knew how much of a soft spot I had for you. I’m sure it was easy to make you think it was all your idea.”

Ienzo shook his head slowly. “I should’ve known better.”

“You were a boy,” he said. “Ienzo, your expectations of your past self in the situation are far too high. A child can only know what they’ve been taught.”

“You hold no resentment whatsoever?” Ienzo asked. “I find that hard to believe.”

Ansem sighed. “I had a lot of time to think, where I was, and yet more now that we’ve been here. To say I do not have any bitterness in my heart is a lie. At the same time… I’ve seen your ambition, since you’re yourself again. You mean to atone for your mistakes. So do I. I have no reason to hold any blame for you anymore. It won’t help either of us move on.”

Move on. Ienzo did not know how to move on. He wondered, briefly, what his life would be like once this was all over, and felt a seed of dread tighten in his stomach. Especially with Riku gone.

“What’s on your mind?” Ansem asked.

“I just…” Ienzo exhaled and smoothed the ascot tied at his throat. “The truth is lately I’ve been feeling a great many things that scare me. Everything about this life seems so… loud and so intense. And I worry about… what the outcome of those feelings might be. I know I don’t deserve it.”

“Whatever do you mean?” The glint in his eye suggested he may know what Ienzo was referring to, but wanted to make him say it.

Very well. “I’m concerned I may be…” He took a quick breath. Saying it would make it concrete, more concrete than the feelings in his body. “That I may be harboring feelings? For someone?”

Ansem tapped his fingertips together. “Romantic feelings?”

“Maybe? I don’t know,” Ienzo said, knowing instantly that was a lie. He felt his face flush. “And I don’t… Master, I don’t know how to do friendship and I clearly don’t know how to do family. How am I supposed to be able to… be good enough for this person? For anyone?” He took a long drink of the still-quite-hot tea to smother the lump in his throat.

Ansem thought about it. “Ienzo, ever since I’ve been back here I haven’t seen you stray once onto that selfish, dark path. I see what you’ve devoted in order to atone, and I also see its price. You’re a young person. You needn’t waste all your years alone in solitary work--regardless of how that companionship may manifest.”

Ienzo shook his head slowly. “I have so much to make up for.”

Ansem leaned forward. “And you are. You will. But I don’t think that punishing yourself when you are doing everything in your power already will help the situation.”

Ienzo wanted to believe that so badly.

“You are too young to have such a heavy heart,” Ansem said. “Ultimately… you were also someone who lost years of your life due to the experiments and the circumstance. You were also a victim.”

Ienzo felt tears in his eyes. “No. That can’t be true.”

“You were a child. Lied to. Manipulated. It should’ve been the adults in the situation who stopped this, yet they did not. How can it be your fault that you turned out a certain way? It is possible for it to be true that you were both a victim and you did things of enormous consequence. One, in fact, begat the other.”

Ienzo didn’t know what to say.

Ansem smiled sadly. “I know I cannot convince you to forgive yourself. That’s something that you have to do yourself. But I hope you can begin to do so. Remaining trapped within those feelings only gives your mistakes more power.”

He was right, Ienzo realized. He was right. The tears broke free.

Ansem squeezed his hand. “I think the object of your affection understands this well.”

Ienzo sniffled. “Is it very obvious? Does everyone know?”

“Not quite. Even is still Even, after all, oblivious as always. But what I know of the boy… what I’ve experienced of him firsthand…” Ansem sighed. “I think he understands, Ienzo, better even than you might think. Moreover…” A mischievous glint came into his eye. “I think he may feel the same.”

“I know he does,” Ienzo said.

“You feel you do not deserve such things.”

“I know I don’t. And we’re now going around and around in circles.” He brought a hand to his forehead.

Ansem thought a moment. “Have you talked about it?”

“I can’t just bring it up. ”

“Why not? If you’re so sure it’s mutual?”

“It’d change everything. He has… he has a whole life. And I have…” He faltered on “nothing.” “Perhaps this is just desperation and loneliness on my part, because I…” He realized he had nothing else to say.

Because he was, essentially, making excuses.

Slowly, Ienzo stood. “I see,” he said. “Thank you for the tea and sympathy.”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to think,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll be back to work in a little while.”

Ansem nodded. “Take your time,” he said.

---

Riku sighed and flexed his hands. He’d just spent the better part of an hour cranking bolts into place with a ratchet wrench, and his wrist was killing him. He put the wrench back in its toolbox, took off his brace, and gave it a good stretch. He could go to any of the healers he knew and have them fix it. But for some reason it always slipped his mind, or wasn’t bad enough, to warrant fixing. A quick rebreak and it would be back to normal.

He went back to his room, showered and got changed. It was already getting cool again. The year mark was coming up fast.

For perhaps the first time… Riku almost wished it would last a little longer. But then he thought of his friends, conscious, alive, and the thought disappeared.

Only to reappear when he saw Ienzo at his doorway. “Oh, hey Ienzo,” Riku said. The other boy looked a bit stressed, his face pinched and eyes red. “Are you… okay?”

“Do you… have a few minutes? Or were you on your way out?” His nostrils flared a little.

He tugged his hair back into its customary ponytail. “I’ve got time.”

“...Walk with me?”

The sun was just starting to set. Ienzo’s pace was brisk, almost frenetic, and Riku’s anxiety spiked. “Did something happen?” he asked.

“Kairi is fine,” Ienzo reassured him quickly, though he seemed no less agitated. “This has nothing to do with that.”

“Then… what does …”

They ended up in a breezeway that overlooked the town. Ienzo took a deep breath. “I need to say something before I lose my nerve,” he began. “Because it has been causing me an awful lot of stress and frankly I’d like to just put the whole matter to bed.”

Riku blinked. “I don’t follow.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “This whole… game between us, the past few months,” he said. “The… banter, the longing gazes, the…” He exhaled in frustration. “Once she’s awake you’ll have a job to do and I can’t afford to keep taking you from it.”

Riku felt somewhat paralyzed. “Taking me… from it?”

Ienzo looked him in the eye. There was something pleading in his own. “I…” He was breathing audibly. “I feel something for you, something I shouldn’t, and I just think… well--” He stuttered. Riku had never seen him like this, and it made his own pulse thunder in his ears. “You deserve better. I’d hold you back. The darkness of our pasts--”

He put up a hand. “Wait. Wait. Slow down. Just breathe a minute. You like me?”

“Unfortunately.”

He couldn’t quite suppress the beginnings of a smile.

“But it’d never work.”

Riku was dizzy. “But--why?”

Ienzo rubbed his upper arms, like he was cold. “I'm older than you, our lives have had vastly different paths. We don't even have much in common--”

“What is it really about?”

Ienzo seemed startled. “I’m not…” He was trembling. “You’re… I’m not good enough, Riku, I’m just not. If you knew even half of the things I’ve done you’d run out of here screaming.”

“For some reason I doubt that.” He took a step closer to him. “Both of our lives have been shaped by darkness.”

“But you’ve overcome it, and I’m--”

“No, it’s not something you can just overcome ,” he said. “It takes… it takes work, day in and day out, and even then, it’s still… part of you. But choosing a different path… like we both have… that’s what matters.”

“I’m just starting,” Ienzo whispered.

“But you’re starting,” he pointed out. He was close to him now, close enough to realize that they were very nearly the same height. “And so far I think you’re doing awesome.”

“You deserve someone whole,” Ienzo said.

“Someone “whole” wouldn’t get it,” Riku said, daring to gently rest a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the only person I can talk to about these sorts of things. The only person who doesn’t make me feel… well, insane , or kind of disgusting about it.”

Ienzo let out a long breath. “I see,” he said softly. “So… what now, then?”

“I know what I want,” he said. “But do you?”

“I think I do.” He reached up and brushed his fingers across Riku’s cheek, his touch so soft and delicate Riku shuddered. “I… I must be crazy…”

“Then we both are, I think.”

Ienzo leaned in a little closer, almost hesitantly. Riku could smell him, something like sandalwood, and for a second he thought he might faint--

He nodded a little, to show this was okay, this was wanted, and finally Ienzo closed the gap and kissed him.

For some reason Riku thought he might have more experience, but as they grappled it was clear this was uncharted territory for both of them, messy and a bit awkward. But it was really happening, he was actually kissing him, and after this strange moment of trying to learn what to do they both seemed to understand a bit better. They were both breathing shakily. Riku pulled him closer. The sensation of touch after so long without was overwhelming, making him feel still dizzier. This was so-- nice --

After an unknowable amount of time, Ienzo pulled away. “Oh,” he said softly, touching his lip. “I see. I suppose it was clear I’ve never--”

“Me either.”

“Really? I’m surprised.”

He raised an eyebrow. “When would I have the time?”

“Well, perhaps when you were in school--have you seen you?” he asked.

Riku laughed, and Ienzo did too, and finally Riku saw the awful tension leave his shoulders. “You’re not so bad yourself. So… what should we do now?”

“We could finish our walk,” he said. “I’m… dizzy. ”

“I am too.”

Ienzo offered his hand. “Might as well. Isn’t this what people do?”

He took it. “I think so. Yeah.”

Another small burst of nervous laughter. “That was not how I expected today to go,” he said.

“Uh, yeah, I would think so,” Riku said.

A few beats of silence. “But what about the future?”

“Let’s not think about that,” Riku said. “Why don’t we just… enjoy this?”

“...Alright.”

[raz-b-rose]

What does family mean?

So I posted this as a reblog on my post about wanting some Timephoon Louie angst and I’m going to make this separate post as well. 

It was a ton of fun to write and I really took on a life of its own. I will post on A03 later this week.

____________________________________________________________

Louie’s hand slipped off the tubs spoked knob, his heart pounding in his ears as he regained his grip. He willed his hands to stop shaking, he couldn’t mess this up. A panicked glance at the advancing mob gave him the extra boost he needed to finish adjusting what he needed. He jumped on the top, pointing the shower head at the growing crowd of past citizens of the world. The blue light blinded him as everyone was returned to their proper time. 

He stood there, waiting in the silence of the halls. Not completely silent though, he could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. The seconds quite literally ticked by, adding together into minutes upon minutes. Soon those minutes added together for a far greater amount than it should have. He should have fixed everything. 

His hands begin to shake violently, nothing compared to the jitter that they were when he was trying to get the tub to work. His chest felt tight, his throat tightening with each baited breath. He climbed down from the tub, eyeing the foyer with failing hope. 

“Guys?” There was no response. The ticking of the seconds continued to be the only sound. 

“Huey, Dewey, come on…” Louie curled into a ball on the floor. The painful pressure continued to build behind his eyes, or was it on the rims of his eyes? Both? Doesn't matter, just that he was crying, the silence quickly filled with the sounds of his heaving breaths and broken sobs. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you can come back now, I learned my lesson.” He choked out, screaming into the very empty, too large mansion.

He wished to hear Mrs. Beakley’s lecturing tone, berating him for his latest stunt. Webby playing peacemaker, maybe even telling him about all the things he did wrong in that logical voice of hers. To hear Scrooge lecture him about the value of hardwork. 

Heck.

He even wanted to hear Della's, his moms, voice. They might still have a rocky relationship, but he wanted to try. Wanted to try. 

He looked up, gasping in horror. The walls were rotted and dust heavily sat upon everything. He stood up, spinning in a wide circle. The tub sat at the foot of the stairs, rusted and falling apart. 

"No!" He rushed to the tub, wanting to touch it, but knowing deep down, he shouldn't. Why were his hands so big? When did he get so old? Where had all the time gone?

He hadn't just failed, he had been alone for years. He had killed his brothers. Sent them far away from him, to suffer through the past alone. Leaving him to suffer through the future alone. 

He gasped, hands gripped in the sheets tangled around his body. He felt as though he was being punched in the chest, over and over. He couldn't make out the bottom of Dewey's bunk, even though he knew it was there. Just a black void. 

He slowed his breathing, carefully sitting up, knees to chest, head thrown in his hands. 

The nightmares wouldn't stop. It has been months, and he just couldn't shake it. What's more his mother's words continued to plague his mind, every living moment. They just played on repeat. 

Your little scheme to bypass the present almost cost us our future"

He had always wondered who she was exactly thinking about when she said those words. Was he considered, or did he get in the way of her perfect little family of three? 

"I watched your brothers blink out of existence because you wanted a short cut to riches" 

'I watched them disappear too.' He smacks himself in the head, self loathing boiling in the pit of his stomach like it does every time he has a nightmare. 

He had never been apart from Huey or Dewey. They had always been together. He was lost without them. He needed them to get him out of trouble. Trouble he always got himself into. 

"Your plans- your schemes- they only lead to bad things for your family" 

He always put on the air of not caring, of being completely self-focused and distant. That he didn't need anyone, but that wasn't true. He always needed his brothers. 

He was trying to help the only way he knew how. He wasn't special like Huey or daring like Dewey. He was just plain old Louellyn Duck. The youngest, last, forgotten triplet. 

Della (he couldn't bring himself to call her mom to himself quite yet) hadn't really gone out of her way to get to know him. 

She spent most of her time with Dewey and any leftover time with Huey. She tried sitting with him on the couch once, but quickly left. 

Before the Timephoon incident, he tried getting her involved with one of his schemes. She wasn't paying attention as he talked, quick to shoot down the idea. She refused to see him. To know him. 

He had tried, and tried and tried. He tried to see what Scrooge was talking about, with them seeing all the angles and him being like Della. That was just one angle he couldn't see. Not anymore. 

"You took off in that contraption without thinking about the consequences or the people you would hurt" 

Maybe they were more alike after all.

"Classic Louie" That's what Dewey had said. 

Louie lays his head down on his knee, watching the small patch of moon flicker on the floor, the clouds moving quickly across the sky. 

But he had one thing Della never would. The last ten years of his life with his brothers. Even if he almost threw that all away in an instant. Just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach. 

"If you want to be a part of this family...you've got to stop" 

Louie couldn't hold it back anymore, the tears were soft, falling in big, fat, silent drops. Those words alone spoke volumes about how Della, who was supposed to be his mom, really felt about him. 

He wasn't what she wanted. Whatever image she had built up in her head, he clearly didn't meet it. He was a disappointment. A fraud. Not truly a part of this family. What did family mean to Della, if she made such a point of him understanding what family was. To her, he had to be someone he wasn't.

But it wasn't for a lack of trying. He tried to put in more effort for things that didn't catch his interest. He helped Huey with Junior Woodchuck achievements. Whatever Dewey wanted to do that day, that's what he did. He even took up reading history to help Webby. 

Even all of that was selfish though. He was afraid to be alone. Afraid that if he looked away from just a moment, they would be gone. 

He slipped from his bed, his bare feet barely making a sound as he walked across the room to the chair he had taken up as his post. He barely slept anymore, content to sit and watch his brothers sleep, finding small comfort in their presence. 

He watched Dewey sleep in a position that could not be comfortable. His head was twisted, with one arm behind it and the other haphazardly over the side of his bunk along with a leg. His other leg was bent inward. Good thing he's a flexible kid. 

Huey however always slept perfectly tucked in, both hands resting on his stomach, feet pointed up from under his blanket. 

Louie smiled at them, hugging his knees to himself. He loved his brothers with all his heart, more than riches, more than pep, more than himself. Definitely more than himself right now. 

Slowly, the sun rose. And with that Louie moved from his chair, content that his brothers were safe without him watching them for a few minutes. 

He got ready for the day, the new habit of being up before Huey a bewildering change to aforementioned boy. Louie smiled to himself, but it was not out of joy. Huey tried to get him to explain why he was suddenly up so early, not accepting any excuse he gave. Louie would never tell them the real reason. 

He had asked the night of the Timephoon what had happened to them. They still haven't told him. They had both looked off to the side, rubbing their arms in discomfort, clear distaste at the question. He left them alone after that, taking the hint that they didn't want to talk to him. They said they forgave him, but it was clear he wasn't trustworthy right now. That scared him too. 

He cleaned the room silently, a morning routine established out of fear of losing his brothers to his inherent selfishness. They couldn't be mad at him if he pulled his own weight from now on. He could prove his value to this family, even if it was just cleaning up messes. 

"Louie what are you doing?" 

He jumped, careful to not turn around to face Huey. He continued to pick up clothes and toys. 

"Cleaning."

"At 5:30 in the morning?" 

"It's the best time, don't you think. The rest of the day freed up from at least one chore."

"You always, well used to, sleep till 9. What is going on? You hate helping with chores"

"Can't I just help my brothers?" Louie muttered, hating the integration. "Don't you like the new me?" 

"Well, its nice, sure, but you aren't you" 

Louie stopped, arms full of discarded items. He still hadn't turned around. If he looked at Huey now, he knew he would break. Who was he? Who did his brothers want him to be? Huey admitted he liked the changes Louie had taken on, but it wasn’t enough. 

"Louie," Huey said softly, directly behind him. When had he gotten off the top bunk? He tucked his head into his chest. 

"Lou, you can talk to me," his hand gently resting on his shoulder, a slight pressure trying to pull him around. 

"Nothing to talk about. Everything is fine" 

"Nothing is fine. You're not sleeping, you barely eat anymore, and just seem so-" Huey stops, his voice starting to rise. 

"Lou, we are worried about you," This time Louie does turn around, surprised to see Dewey up and standing with Huey. 

They just stare at each other. Louie's gaze goes from one boy to the next. Ironically, they both have identical expressions of concern.

"Louie, is it something we did? Or Scrooge? We can help fix it." Huey says gently, removing his hand from his shoulder, instead clapping them tightly in front of his chest. 

Louie rears back in shock "What?" 

"Yea Louie, let us help fix it." 

"Unless you can help fix me, then there's nothing you can do" the words are spoken without thought. He couldn't help but feel slightly angry that they would blame themselves and even Scrooge (a man of many faults mind you) before placing any blame on Della. 

Maybe he had no right to feel the way he does and Della is right and he's just too selfish and inner focused to see it. Maybe he really doesn't belong in this family. 

Huey looks at him with heartbreak, while Dewey just looks at him in confusion. 

"There's nothing to fix Louie. You're fun the way you are" 

"Yeah, we wouldn't be the same if you were different" 

That's true, if Louie was different, then things would be better. Not how they were right now. If Louie could just be different, if tried hard enough to prove to his brothers and everyone else that he could be who they wanted him to be, things would be better again. 

"I don't fit in. I don't belong. So I have to change to make things better" He argued back. 

He starts putting things away, trying to end the conversation. He knows he's being rougher with the toys then necessary, throwing them into the chest and onto the shelf, but he doesn't care right now. He's on edge and he wants out of this room. 

"Of course you belong!" Dewey exclaims in bewilderment. 

"Where did you even get such an Idea?!" Huey sounds furious. 

"Doesn't matter," he mutters again, wishing he had changed into his hoodie. He felt far too vulnerable in his nightshirt. 

"Did someone say that to you? Thats stupid!" Louie is surprised at Huey's anger, and with that one distracting thought, he is unable to control the flinch he makes at Huey's words. 

Dewey notices, looking at him with searching eyes. "Who said that to you Louie? Is that what all this is about?" 

"This?" He mumbled weakly, hoping to change the subject away from their inquiries. They both loved Della too much for him to bring his own dislike for her into the mix. It would make this already terrible morning worse. 

"The waking up in the middle of the night, the crying, the sudden interest in anything we do, all the cleaning..." Huey lists off more, but Louie stops listening.

 Louie just looked at them, feeling his chest being punched once again. His palms felt clammy and he tried really hard to keep his breathing under control. He turned away from them, curling into a ball on the floor. He can’t hear anything except for the blood rushing through his head, and the air entering and leaving his body. 

"I'm going to get mom," Dewey announced, already moving towards the door. 

"No!" Louie lunges after Dewey, tackling him to the floor. 

"Why not? She can help!" Dewey snaps, "She makes everything better!" 

"No she doesn't!" 

"Yes she does!" 

"I don't want to talk to her!"

"Then talk to us!" Dewey snaps again, looking agitated at Louie's refusal to get Della involved. 

If Della came here she would just scold him again. He'd probably get grounded again because he upset Huey and Dewey and nothing he said would make her listen. 

He clamped his beak shut, just vigorously shaking his head. He can feel himself starting to cry again, hands unable to keep their grip on Dewey's cloths as the nerves course through his body. 

"If you want to be a part of this family...you've got to stop" 

He just needed to stop. 

"Stop what Louie?" 

"Stop being me" he whispers, hiding his face with his hands. He was such a screw up, he could do nothing right. All he could hear was his breathing again, then he felt the hot wet tears on his face again. 

"Louie calm down" Huey hugs him tightly, his body shaking with his own. "You're ok" 

"Louie…" Dewey sat down next to them, putting a hand on his knee. 

"I'm sorry, really really sorry. I mean it!" 

"Sorry about what?" 

"All the trouble I cause, all the problems I started, for making you worry" Louie rambles, trying to list everything and nothing at the same time. 

"Hey we never stop worrying about you, you're our baby brother" Huey strokes his head, holding him tighter. 

"You don't cause problems.." Dewey's own voice starts to shake. 

"Please don't leave me" he chokes out, grabbing on to Huey and Dewey, "I promise I'll change, just please don't leave me" 

Neither boy knows what to say to that, only they can hold him and exchange concerned looks over his head. Eventually Louie falls back asleep, Huey gently tucking him in and following Dewey out of the room. 

They both still don't say anything until they feel they are a safe enough distance not just from their room, but the rest of the occupants of the mansion as well. 

"What started all this?" Dewey whisper yells, clearly still on edge from Louie's melt down.

"I have an idea..I think it was the Timephoon" Huey whispered back. 

"That was forever ago!"

"Yeah but we never really talked about it with him" Huey thinks back to the few weeks he was stuck in the old west. How he struggled to hide in plain sight and how alone he was. 

When he first arrived, he was scared. Then he was angry. Angry at Louie and his stupid selfish get rich quick scheme. Angry that he was alone. Terribly alone. Then suddenly he was back in the foyer. 

He was dazed for a moment, all anger at his brother instantly being replaced with worry has he helped him stand. His hands shook and he offered a wobbly smile. He quickly turned to Dewey, grabbing his face in clear relief. 

Huey still felt angry and definitely found it hard to forgive him. He said the words, they both went through the motions. He could tell that Louie just thought he had to say sorry and that would clean his hands of the whole mess. Huey didn't feel as though he really understood what he put everyone through. His reaction to Moms grounding felt pretty obvious. 

But maybe Huey didn't understand what that whole event put Louie through? 

Dewey looked at Huey, trying to understand why Louie would be having a melt down about that now. 

Sure he had entered up with Webby in one of the greatest eras of all time. Sure he had been alone-ish, without his brothers, for a week. Dewey tried really hard not to think poorly of the experience, after all, it was just another adventure. Another adventure without his brothers or his mom. 

When Louie had asked about where they went, Dewey suddenly realized that time had only passed for a few minutes while he had spent a week away from his family. 

His mom had only gotten back, and he almost lost her all over again. He didn't want to be angry with Louie, but when he asked that question, Dewey couldn't find it in himself to tell him how he was really feeling about the whole thing. Best to just bury it deep inside and forget about it. 

Clearly Louie had not forgotten about it. 

“How can we help if he wont talk to us?” Dewey is frustrated and needs something to do to make things better, and Louie wouldn’t give it to him. 

“He really didn't want us to get mom” Huey murmurs, rubbing his hands together anxiously. Dewey stops his pacing, looking back towards the bedroom. 

“Why?”

“Think about it Dewey, has she ever spent time with Louie? Does she understand him? Like we do?” 

“I’m sure she has..wasn’t there that time, no we were there, or the, nope that was just us” Dewey drifts off into his outloud musings. 

“I’m not saying mom was in the wrong to ground Louie, but I think the whole thing could have been handled better” Huey cuts him off, Dewey growing frantic in trying to think of a time Mom and Louie had spent together. 

“Better?”

Huey rubs his arm in discomfort, “I was, still am a little, mad at him for the whole thing. I was alone for weeks Dewey. Weeks!” 

“I know what you mean, I almost lost mom again” He says it bitterly, speaking the feelings aloud for the first time ever. They both stand in silence, both processing their feelings on the matter internally. 

“I feel like there is something we are missing, and I think it has to do with mom” Huey is the one to break the silence. 

“He would be even more ticked if we went to her without him knowing,” Dewey chimes in, making his way back to the bedroom, “you’re right. He really didn’t want us to get mom.”

They slowly open the door, relieved to see him still on his bunk, chest rising steadily. They get dressed quietly, leaving a note for him. He needed to sleep and the family would understand. 

“We should try to see what we can learn from mom, without directly asking her.”

“How do we do that?”

“Dunno, I’ll come up with something though” They enter the dining room, taking their usual seats, both eyeing the empty one between them with worry. Mrs. Beakley places their breakfast down, Huey stopping her before she places one at Louie’s seat. 

“Louie isn’t feeling good today, he’s still asleep”

“What is he ok?” The boys look at Mom who was halfway into her chair, she looks back the way she had come. 

“Yea, we took care of him, he just needs sleep” Dewey chimes in, shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. He calls out a muffled thank you to Mrs. Beakley who sighs a comment about manners. 

“Are you sure, I should go check on him” Mom is fully out of her chair now.

“He needs to be alone right now,” Huey quickly adds. If Mom was to wake up Louie now, things would probably only get worse. “Trust us.”

“Oh ok,” She sits back down, sending a longing look out the door once more. That was a good sign. 

“It's a shame Louie isn’t feeling good today, I needed his help on getting this old spell book from the city archives,” Lena surprisingly contributes to the conversation. Normally she only interacted with Webby. 

“Louie should know better than to help you with what sounds like an illegal activity” Mom glares at Lena. 

Lena eyes her, studying her, “Louie is good at that stuff, makes it more fun too.” She finished with a shrug.

“Yeah! Louie is so smart!” Webby chimes in, bouncing in her seat, “I really hope he feels better soon!” Lena rolls her eyes fondly at her energy. 

“He always comes up with the best adventures” Dewey chimes in, hopping on Webby’s hype train, “It’s been awhile since we have had one” He sits back down, remembering the morning, and why they need to figure out what happened. 

“Good, it means he’s learning,” Mom’s tone seems to hold a bitterness to it, but Huey felt he could be imagining it. 

“What's wrong with Louie’s adventures?” Webby asked. She wasn't malicious about it, rather she just seemed confused. 

“He needs to be aware of others outside himself, and when he learns that he can plan adventures, not schemes, with you guys again.”

The boys exchange a look, Huey quickly looks at the empty seat, then Mom. Dewey frowned, feeling a protectiveness burst within his chest. Louie was always thinking about others. He disguised it with selfishness, but he was always thinking about them. 

“Louie is very aware of others” Dewey spat the words before he really thought about who they were directed at. Why was Mom saying something so untrue about his baby brother. 

She blinked at him in shock, her mouth hanging open slightly. Dewey was starting to get the feeling that Mom was the one to say something bad to Louie. He really didn’t want to see her. Huey’s eyes darted between Dewey’s clouded expression and Mom’s surprised one. 

“Good Morning Everyone!” Scrooge cheerful calls out, taking his seat at the head of the table. Webby and Lena offer weak greetings, eyes glued to the growing drama at the other end of the table. Scrooge, lowers his paper, taking notice of the lack of greeting from his nephews. He eyes Dewey’s uncharacteristically angry expression, remembering the last time he saw it was when he told the kids about what happened to their mother. Even more surprised to see it aimed at said mother, who seemed just as surprised at her son's anger. 

“Have you not noticed how hard he’s been working? Or how tired he is all the time?”

Della stutters, a heartbroken expression wrinkling around her eyes. Huey and Dewey wait patiently. “I thought he was always like that...I...I didn’t see anything different” 

“Mom have you ever really spent time getting to know him?” Huey quietly askes, but Scrooge can hear the steel edge to his words.

“Of course-”

“No, I don’t think you have” Dewey cuts her off, “If you did then you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t” Dewey struggles to find the words, turning to Dewey to finish for him. 

“You would notice these things.” That wasn’t what Dewey was trying to say, but it was good enough. Mom seemed to put Louie down, judge his actions harsher than their own and pushed him aside. He just couldn’t understand why. 

Lena grabs Webby, quietly slipping from the room. Scrooge sat there, eyeing the family in discomfort. He raises his newspaper, taking refuge behind its ridiculous size and equally ridiculous stories. 

“Guys, I-”

“Why don’t you love him like you love us?” Dewey snaps. Huey is surprised by Dewey’s temper. Normally he would be the one screaming and yelling, not Dewey. He was also surprised at how he was talking to Mom. He loved her so much, but then again, family can lead to the worst sense of betrayal. And Huey thinks Dewey feels very betrayed right now.

“Of course I love him! He’s my son.” She sounds desperate now. Yes of course she loved him-

“But do you like who he is?” Huey asks quietly, having taken hold of Dewey’s wrist, both of them sharing Louie’s vacant seat now. 

“What?” She sounds offended. 

"You don't have to like family, but you can still love them" Hurt glanced over at Scrooge, who had flinched, crinkling his newspaper. 

"Of course I like him" Della quickly defends, staring at her boys with fear. 

"Then spend time with him" 

"Take an interest in what he actually likes to do. It's nice having him help with my badges but he hates it." 

Both boys get up from the table, breakfast unfinished and they waddle out of the room, "we are going to go check on Louie now" they said in their rare moments of spoken unity. 

Della sits there in a moment of defeat, the silence deafening. Scrooge slowly lowers his paper, looking at his niece with find sympathy. 

"The lads have a point dear."

"I feel like the worst mom ever. I will never stop feeling like the worst mom ever" 

"Della dear, you have been back in their lives for only a few months now. All of you have had a decade worth of experiences without each other. I would expect at least that long to properly get to know each of your boys"

"But Louie just-" she glanced at the door, standing and moving to sit closer to Scrooge. 

"I can't let him make the same mistakes as me."

"Ya don't think Donald hasn't spent all his time raising them to be great children?" 

She shakes her head before resting her head in her hand, gazing at the door sadly. Of course her brother would ensure they would turn out different from herself. She knew she had been selfish and rash. The last time they spoke, had been their ugliest fight yet. If anyone would try to ensure the past didn’t repeat itself, it would be him. 

"Louie has an entrepreneurial spirit and looks for the quickest and easiest solutions to his problems. Whether that holds true afterwards is always left to be seen but the kid has a drive, it just needs to be directed, not squished" 

Della deflates even more, "awe lass don't beat yourself up too much. This whole thing is a learning experience for all of yews" 

"I wish this was easier" 

"Every parent does lass" 

The boys trudge back down the hall, Dewey still boiling hot and Huey eager to get back to Louie. They quietly open the door, peaking in slowly. 

Louie was awake and had a wide eyed far off look of fear. He was breathing heavy and was drenched with sweat. His death grip on his pillow spoke volumes to them. He was crying again, and hadn't removed his gaze from the wall in front of him. 

Huey approached first, Dewey closing the door behind them softly. Even when he got on the bed, Louie didn't react, only continuing to stare at the wall. Dewey crawled on next, pulling Louie into a bone crushing hug. He looked down, reaching up to grab his arm. Huey joined in on the other side. 

“I’m sorry. Sorry we never talked sooner, sorry we didn't care, sorry for everything” Huey whispered. 

“Huey..” Louie murmurs.

“Me too Louie. Sorry I forgot about you. Sorry for being a terrible big brother”

“S-kay”

“It really isn't,” Dewey cant put any real force behind the words. 

They all move to laying down. Huey and Dewey look at Louie, while he stares at the wood above them. Huey ran his fingers through his head feathers and Dewey continued to squeeze with all his might. 

“What is family?” He finally speaks. 

“Messy.” Dewey answers.

“Biological” Huey quips. 

“Are we family?”

“No we are best friends. That's something totally different” Huey reassures. He may not have chosen his brothers at first but he did now. Family could be an obligation, but they never would be. He chose them, and always would. 

“Duck brothers forever” Dewey adds. Louie sniffs, the threat of more tears imminent. 

“So if I never stopped scheming and continued to hurt you you would never leave me?”

“I won't lie and say the Timephoon incident didn't hurt me,” Huey answers, speeding up the soothing gestures of his hands when Louie stiffened beside him, “But even that would never make me hate you, and that was pretty bad.”

“Louie, I really don’t get why you want to change, you’re good the way you are.” Dewey’s anger had long since burned out. “What did Mom say to you?”

“What?”

“Stop avoiding the question, I didn’t just get into a fight with Mom for no reason. Now spill”

“You got into a fight with Del-Mom?” Louie’s disbelief is echoed internally by Huey. It was a hard thing to imagine. 

“Yes, now spill” He demands again. 

Louie turned his head, surprised by Dewey’s serious and determined expression. “She said that if I wanted to be a part of this family I had to stop.”

“Stop what” Huey was quick to ask, reaching a hand across Louie to calm Dewey. He was angry too. What kind of mother said such a thing? Threatening to kick him out of this already dysfunctional family because what, he wanted to ensure he or his brothers never lived in poverty again? 

“Stop scheming, stop planning. They only lead to bad things for you guys anyway” He felt and sounded so defeated. 

“I mean I almost lost you guys. It wasn’t on purpose, but still, I almost did that.” Louie could feel his panic rising as the choppy remnants of his last dream resurfaced. His brothers had willingly left him that time. Nothing he did could change their minds. He didn’t try hard enough. He tightened his grip around Dewey’s arm and pushed himself further into Huey. 

“Louie we know that you were just trying to help in your own way,” Dewey tries not to wince at Louie's grip. 

“What if I hadn’t been able to bring you guys back? What if I had been alone forever? What if I mess up again, and you guys really do leave?”

“Woah Louie calm down, that didn’t happen and won't happen. I promise.”

“You can’t promise something like that Huey. Even you don’t know that” 

“You’re right, but I can promise that I, we, will never leave you” 

“Stuck with us forever. Mom just has to accept that” 

“I’m not what she wants.” Louie whispers. 

“She just doesn’t understand you. We know you, that's all that matters” They had tangled themselves together into a more comfortable cuddle pile. 

“Next time you have a nightmare, come get us please. We will help remind you of the truth” Huey is the one to make the request, but Dewey quickly nods along. Louie relaxes between them, closing his very sore eyes, hoping to lessen the headache that had built up. Huey continued his menstrations and Dewey was trying his hardest to lay still. 

“I’m going to go get you some food and water” Dewey detangles himself, Louie smiling. He knew Dewey couldn’t sit still for long. At the sound of the door closing, he closes his eyes once more. 

“If It makes it better, Mom really didn’t realize she messed up.”

“Not really. It wasn’t like I didn’t try to connect with her”

“I know.”

“I miss Uncle Donald. He understands”

“He will be home soon, I’m sure of it” 

There was a gentle knock at the door, both boys glancing at it in confusion until Della poked her head through. 

“Hey boys, oh where’s Dewey?”

Louie stiffened, pulling the covers up to his chin, turning towards Huey. If Della noticed she didn’t show it. Huey glanced at her warily. 

“Getting Louie some food and water,”

“That’s nice of him, how’re you doin bud?” Della kneels besides the bed, reaching towards him. He pulls back, burying himself under the covers. Huey moved to sit up, keeping one hand on his head and the other on his arm. He wiggled so his head was in his lap. 

“Why did you threaten to kick him out of the family?” Louie listens carefully. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did!” He shouted from beneath the covers. 

“Louie I would never say that.” Della sounds almost angry.

“It was on your stupid recording from when I was grounded. You said that if i wanted to be a part of this family, I had to stop being me.”

“Oh” That's all she can say? Oh. Louie grinds his teeth together. 

“That’s not what I meant” 

“What else could you have possibly meant?” Huey snaps, his own temper now rearing its head. 

“Just that he needed to be more considerate of the family and stop causing problems?”

“Causing problems”

“Wrong word,” Della starts to stubble over her words.

“Listen boys, I wanted to apologize. I’m still trying to figure out this mom thing and I know I keep messing up, but I really want to try”

“If you really wanted to try, you would have spent time with Louie sooner.” 

“I do-”

“No you don’t,” He rejoins the conversation, pulling the covers off his face just enough to breathe easier, “Every time I tried you always had something else to do or it wasn’t ok for me to do.”

“Louie..”

“Della,” He ignores her sharp intake of breath, “It’s going to take more than an ‘I’m sorry’ to fix this. Guess that’s one thing I learned” Louie is bitter and tired and was really done with this day. He wanted things to go back to normal. 

“Mom, we can talk later, Louie needs some time” Huey placates, his tone gently. As Della is about to leave, Dewey re-enters the room, eyeing her warily. A quick glance at Huey has him holding his tongue and marching past her. 

“Here Lou, this will make you feel better. All three boys relax at the sound of the door closing. Louie sits up, carefully drinking the water and nibbling on the lukewarm pancakes. Dewey had clearly used the microwave to reheat them, but he was hungry and didn’t really care right now. 

Things were far from better, but weren’t terrible anymore. Louie felt relaxed, but the nightmares and fears were still there in the back of his mind. He watched Dewey and Huey talk about unimportant topics, smiling softly at the normalcy of it all, despite the circumstances. He can see himself being ok, believe it even. It was just going to take time. And thankfully, they still had plenty of that left, together. 

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 4

Previous Chapter

An Edolas Hermit Story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Impulse has escaped the city, avoided the leaders, but now he’s lost in a world he knows nothing about. And no matter how far he goes, it’s never far enough to stop the feeling of being watched

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LET”s try this again shall we?. Yada yada nods to other games, easter eggs and inspiration. 

But still! CHECK OUT RED HIS WORK IS AMAZING AND HE”S THE FUCKING GENIUS THAT CAME UP WITH THIS. I just put words to paper. Sometimes I do it well. 

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language

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The hours stretch into days, the sun rising and setting without a clock to tell Impulse when the nights are looming and retreating. He seemed to have lost Xisuma and Cub a while back, but that doesn’t stop him from running. He can’t put enough distance between them and himself. He can’t put enough distance between the city and himself. 

But he knows that with each step away from the bonds of Hermitland, it’s also a step away from the bonds of friendship. Leaving behind Tango and Zed, being forced to continue without them has been some of the worst thoughts that haunt his mind. Are they okay? Were they seen? Does Cub know who they are? Will they be able to escape some other way? Join him beyond the walls? Questions haunt Impulse in the day, and nightmares run wild at night. Nightmares of what horrible experiences they may have to endure, experiences like he went through. Being caught, interrogated, put through rehabilitation. Or worse. 

The worst nightmares aren’t ones of himself being hurt, or his friends being caught. It’s of them forgetting him. Moving on with their lives, giving up on their shared dreams of freedom. Of the classes they’d taken together, the long evenings studying for engineering exams, cool nights on rooftops dreaming of a world beyond the walls. No memory, no recollection of Impulse. No one left to remember, to care about a poor boy with big dreams to help people. 

As Impulse travels through the birch forest, he’s learned not to trust anything. The eyes of the trees, the whispers of the leaves all betray him. The squeaks and howls of animals are distant voices, carrying the message of his location to unwanted ears. Even the sticks on the ground, the grass are traps in disguise. Ensnaring the city boy and making his paranoia grow. Everything is out to get him. Just like in Hermitland. No, because of Hermitland. It’s all a part of the bigger conspiracy. 

If Tango and Zed were here, they’d be able to quell his fears. Prove to his mind and all it’s wayward conclusions that it’s just coincidence. Tango’s skepticism and caution would point out the flaws of Impulse’s fears, the coincidences that break the story. And Zed would have filled in what was left with optimism, truth and guidance to ease away the sharp worries. 

But it’s just Impulse. Alone in the wild, alone in the world. Is there anyone beyond the walls, or is he the only soul out here? Impulse isn’t sure if he could take living alone, like some hermit out here in a forest full of eyes. Full of things waiting to hurt him, waiting to rat him out to things that only want to do him harm. People that only want to do him harm. 

Impulse trips, crashing into the ground. Clumps of grass and dirt stick to his sweaty face, and he spits a leaf out from between his teeth. He twists, looking to see what brought him to his knees. Sunlight filtering through the trees glistens off two metal buttons, blinding Impulse as he stands in the reflected illumination. Impulse creeps closer, looking at what he caught his foot on. 

It’s a doll, a little rag doll not dissimilar from the toys he grew up with. Metal buttons for eyes, tattered fabric skin and clothes. A plant has grown from it’s chest, the stuffing within long ago stolen by birds and beasts. His foot was caught in the cavity that remains, nearly ripping the toy to shreds. 

Impulse turns his gaze to his surroundings. Trees grow from sharp rises, cliff faces of moss and lichen. No, not hills and cliffs. Homes. Lampposts overgrown with vines, flowers blooming from where lights used to shine down. Rusted iron support beams have fallen apart, tied to the ground by roots and grass. Crumbled stones and structures lay in heaping mounds, cairns of a time long past. Impulse digs the heel of his boot through the grass, and finds concrete beneath the thin layer of dirt. 

He also sees black marks on the stone walls, wooden posts charred and piles of ash tucked in the corners of homes. This must’ve been from a time before Hermitland, before the wall. 

This village was burned in the war with the nether. After all the lies he’s been fed, Impulse was starting to doubt the existence of such an event. But nothing else could explain damage like this. This is more firepower than any overworld army could do. This is why Hermitland was built. What Xisuma, Cub, and Doc were trying to protect the city and it’s people from. 

Utter ruin, total annihilation. But the line between defense and deception is so very thin, so easy to cross without ever realizing. Impulse feels the wind brush past his cheeks, his breath huffing as he stays still for just a minute. Between the broken windows and collapsed doors, he swears he can hear the voices of people long forgotten. The daily life of this village, long lost. 

Impulse can’t help his curiosity. He needs to know more, about the people of this place and how it came to ruin. He feels it’s only fair. Most of the buildings are missing roofs, left to the devices of the elements. Plants have grown over what animals haven’t taken, reclaiming the village in nature’s name. Bringing life back to a town that was once dead. Impulse clambers into one building that still has most of it’s roof, though heavily charred. The forces of nature have been kept at bay more so in this room than the rest of the village. 

It’s a library. Or, it was a library. Most of the books are gone, and the shelves have collapsed into blackened rubble. Impulse picks his way through, picking up whatever books remain. A recipe book, delicious and colorful meals making his stomach growl and ache. He hasn’t eaten in days. A manual on how to play some sort of tabletop game. Best played with three or more people. 

One book does catch Impulse’s eye. It’s a thick tome, the leather binding and yellow pages charred by the fire that had swept through the library. Portals to Other Dimensions: 3rd Edition. Impulse raises an eyebrow, and carefully flips through the pages within. They nearly crumble at his touch, but he’s able to make sense of what he’s reading. 

There may not be a way for him to get as far away from Hermitland in this dimension...but what about other dimensions? Or even other worlds? Anywhere is better than here. There’s nothing left for him here. The nether dimension is absolutely a no, but the book does mention something about another dimension. It’s vague, but something about a place full of lost things. Isn’t Impulse a lost thing? 

He flips the page, but the paper disintegrates before he can read on how to get to this End dimension. The next page says something about stone and brick. Is that how he gets to the End? He can build a portal to a different dimension, just by scrounging up stone from the ruins of this city. He can escape to the End, far away from everything the Overworld and the nether has ever done to hurt him. Make a new life in this strange new dimension, no matter how harsh it is. 

So Impulse begins to build. Tossing off his tattered buttonup, and tightening the bandage around his burns, he gathers stone and stone brick. He organizes the heavy material into an arrangement as close as he can mimic to what he hopes is the End portal. He doesn’t know what it looks like, but the book says that nether portals are six by nine meters of obsidian. If stone bricks have something to do with the end portal, then it’s reasonable for him to assume that it’ll be in a similar arrangement. 

The sun sets on the ruined city and ruined boy, but Impulse doesn’t stop. His pace becomes feverish, to the point that he actually puts his broken clock to the side so he can work without worry of breaking it more. It sits next to the open book, catching the moonlight. Impulse refuses to stop. No amount of hunger, fatigue, or pain will stop him now. He’s run so far, but not far enough. There’s still a chance he could be found in the Overworld. He needs to go beyond. 

Impulse scrambles up the lopsided portal frame, pushing his dirty, windswept hair out of his eyes as he places the keystone at the peak of the portal. One stone brick portal, which hopefully will take Impulse to the End. Impulse steps back, admiring his handiwork, and feeling his entire body screaming for him to stop. To rest, to eat, to heal. 

But his fear, his paranoia tell him to keep going. He swears he can hear voices in the distant, whispering among the leaves of the trees. People are close, or at least he can swear they are. People who want to harm Impulse. He rushes to pull out his flint and steel, not even taking the time to test the striker before sparking the portal. The rift opening nearly throws him off his feet, red swirls and sparks drifting free of the portal frame. 

He did it. He opened a portal. Hopefully, a portal to the End. Impulse grabs his clock, and steps up to the portal. In the distance of the birch forest, beyond the ever present eyes surrounding him, he can hear something howling. He doesn’t hesitate. 

Impulse leaps through the portal. His mind and body feels distorted, like he’s going to throw up. Like everything and nothing is happening to him. He exists, yet he doesn’t. Every atom of his being colliding and condensing. Until he’s out the other side. 

He stumbles forward, catching his weight on a sapling. But the young tree can’t handle the weight of the young man, and snaps. For the second time today, Impulse goes crashing to the dirt. But this time, he leaps back to his feet, ignoring the dirt and grass. His feet drag against the ground, body tired from running, low on energy. He’s running on empty, nearly burned out. Not enough to stop him from breaking his own portal. 

Impulse rips the stone portal apart, rock after rock tossed in all directions around him. The frame collapses under its weight, severing the connection between the birch forest and wherever he is now. He doesn’t care- he’s gone, in a completely different place than Hermitland. Somewhere Xisuma can’t get him. Somewhere no one...not even his best friends...could ever find him. It’s all gone, all the bad. But so is all the good. 

Days of running, without food and fighting through the painful cuts and bruises all over his body finally catches Impulse. He barely has enough forethought to step away from the rubble before his knees give out from under him. 

He’s gone before his head hits the ground.

[azritesx3]

“A Devil’s Love” Chapter 5: Goodnight

Description: Chloe’s best friend is back, and Lucifer’s charm can’t seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something…more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]

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AN: Updated March 14, 2020 - Grammar AN: Updated July 19, 2020 - Grammar, Major story change

Rating: Teen Warning[s]: Swearing

Show Timeline: Season 2, after episode 11

Spotify Playlist /// AO3 Fanfiction Net Wattpad DeviantArt

Tag List: @ayanna-wild​, @anushay1998, @emiwrites3reads​, @i-am-canada-13​, @heart-of-pots-and-pans​, @tinyybiceps, @jessicarene99​, @lucifersnipnips​, @givemebooksorgivemedeath​, @sailor-earth-1

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Despite you being extremely nervous about having Lucifer of all people take care of you, the drive from the hospital to LUX was pleasant.

Lucifer followed all traffic laws. He even went five miles per hour under the posted speed to ensure you didn't bump around too much. He also picked up on your "outing" that music calms you, so he plays the radio at a reasonable volume to an alternative pop station.

The song "Devil Devil" by MILCK starts to play, and you hum along.

"You're going to have to sing it, darling."

"What?" You look over at him and get a bit defensive, "Why?"

"As your nurse, I have to make sure your lungs are all right. Since I'm sure you won't let me rest my head on your chest for a listen," he looks at you sideways and gives a cheeky grin, "or let me kiss you until your breath gives out for a test."

"Well, you're right about that." You look straight ahead at the road and wish you could cross your arms effectively.

"Then sing."

You sigh loudly and stay quiet. You decide to sing the last part of the song to please your "nurse", but also because you couldn't resist any longer.

You take the shape of Everything that I'm drawn to You take the shape of Everything that I'm drawn to But your eyes Are dead and red, red as rust

Do not try me Devil, Devil Cannot buy me Devil, Devil You won't make a fool of me, oh no What makes you so special, special To think I would ever settle For that devious dance between me and The Devil, Devil

You look over at him when the song ends and give him an eyebrow raise, "Does that satisfy you, my nurse?"

"Perfectly." His wide smile and gleaming eyes are trained on the road.

For the next fifteen minutes of the ride you and Lucifer sing along to the radio. You hum towards the end because your throat starts screaming for water.

The calm atmosphere of the car ride is abruptly cut when Lucifer pulls into his parking garage.

You two pass by the part of the garage where your car exploded. The damage to the garage was fixed with new cement. The area where your car was parked was still surrounded by crime tape, but your car was gone and there was a cleanup crew. You also pass by Agent Monroe who was getting the footage inside the security office.

When Lucifer felt the air change around you he grabbed your left hand and rubbed his thumb soothingly over your knuckles. He parks his car in his spot, then releases your hand and steps out of the car. He steps over to your side and opens the door, but you don't move. You're still frozen from the memory of the explosion.

"I can carry you if you'd like." He leans down and whispers in your ear.

That snaps you out of it, "What?"

He chuckles, happy to have you back, "I know you feel safe in my arms." He winks at you.

"Just get me my crutches, Lucifer." You pull your legs over the side of the car.

"Come now, darling. You let me push you once, so how about you let me carry you once?"

"You already did when-"

"Yes, yes let's not bring that back up. It doesn't count anyway. You were, well." He stops himself then looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes you ever saw on a man, "Please?"

"Ugh." You sigh up to the ceiling, then look over to the side trying to hide the blush forming, "Fine." You barely audit out.

Lucifer doesn't even reply, and in a blink of an eye he has you in his arms bridal style and walking towards the elevator. You refuse to meet his eyes when he looks down at you with a smile, but you do admit to yourself that you do feel safer...for some reason.

Thank God no one is seeing this.

The elevator bings and the doors open up to the penthouse, "Where would you like to go, darling?"

"I actually want to rest for a bit," you answer truthfully. These emotions and memories from that night were draining you a considerable amount.

He starts walking towards his bedroom.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" You say, "Don't you have another room?!"

"Just Maze's old room, but her mattress is much too firm. Little demon likes it rough." He smiles down at you, "My bed is much softer."

"But-"

"Not uh, darling." Lucifer puts his finger on your lips and you freeze, "Only the best for my patient." He continues the walk. When you two arrive he pulls his sheet aside and lays you down on his bed.

"Oh…" you cover your mouth with your hand as your face heats up. Lucifer just laughs.

His bed is very soft, but not too soft that you instantly sink down.

He pulls the sheets over you, and you have to force yourself to keep from nuzzling into the soft fabric.

Lucifer kneels down in front of your face, "I'll wake you in an hour or two. The doctor said these bandages have to come off soon so you can wash and get fresh ones."

"Mmm," you hum a reply, your eyes already drooping.

Lucifer chuckles again and gives you a soft kiss on your head, "Rest well, K9."

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"You still haven't fished anything up yet?" Lucifer talks on his phone to Maze as he walks back to his car to get your belongings.

"These FBI ticks are real pains in the ass, Lucifer." Maze responds agitated.

"Guess I'll have to pull the Devil charm on them." Lucifer frowns at the crutches in his backseat. Anger refueling a bit.

"I doubt their 'desire' would be to tell you whatever they know."

"Come now, Maze. I can get anything out of any human." He slings the duffle bag over his shoulder and holds the crutches under his arm.

"Well if you find this guy before me you better let me know! I want to kick his ass, too."

"Devil of my word, dear." Lucifer hangs up and starts back to the elevator.

"Mr. Morningstar!" Lucifer looks behind him and sees that FBI agent, Monroe, walk towards him.

"And here I thought you were done with me," Lucifer tells the man as he approaches.

"I thought I should give you my card." Monroe pulls a business card from his suit pocket and hands it to Lucifer.

Lucifer takes it and eyes it, "And why would I need this?"

"Just in case you learn of anything, or if anything happens here during Ms. Earth's stay."

Lucifer raises a brow at the man, "Are you expecting something to happen, Mr. FBI Agent?"

"Not in my hopes at all, Mr. Morningstar. Just a precaution. If need be I can provide extra security-"

"K9 doesn't need your protection." Lucifer stands full height at the man in intimidation. He smiles at the human, "She has the Devil watching over her."

"Of course." Monroe takes a small step back and bids Lucifer farewell.

"Hmph." Lucifer huffs at the man's back and continues back on track to the elevator. He crumbles the card and throws it in a trash can.

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The sound of nearby running water makes your throat scream, reminding you that you forgot to ask for a drink before the nap.

You stretch on Lucifer's soft bed and squint your eyes open. You see from the wall of windows that the sun is now setting and that Lucifer left you a glass of water on the nightstand. You slowly lift yourself up and grab the cup.

"Good evening, darling!" Lucifer comes from his closet with a smile, holding your crutches. You hum in acknowledgment and thanks as you down the water.

"My shower is running lukewarm water to the Doctor's orders, sorry." He lightly chuckles at the inward groan you make. Lukewarm showers were basically cold, and you hate cold showers.

Stupid burns.

Lucifer positions the crutches on either side of your arms when you finish the water. You grab onto them as Lucifer helps you on your feet. Once you achieve a balance you head into his bathroom in his much too large closet.

Seriously, how many expensive suits and shoes does one guy need?

You step into his bathroom that's as big as his closet. The decor is the same sleek black with hints of brown and gold. To your left was the largest double vanity set you've ever seen. Each sink was accompanied by its own large antique mirrors on the wall. To the right, you see he has two toilets and they had their own little room with doors. Straight ahead almost the entire wall was his shower, with the right corner housing a large jacuzzi tub.

"You look like you have many questions about my washroom, my dear." Lucifer laughs at your various facial expressions as you take in the room.

"I do, but considering your lifestyle and just how many people you bring up here, it all makes sense."

"Smart woman."

You walk further in and just now notice that Lucifer had laid out your pajamas on the vanity, as well as all your bathroom essentials around a sink. He even brought one of his dining chairs in for you to sit on.

Lucifer motions you over to the chair and you sit, leaning your crutches against the vanity. Lucifer starts unbandaging your left arm.

He looks at your already scabbed up arms quizzically, "Do burns usually heal this quickly on you humans?" He asks as he undoes the right arm bandage.

"Don't think so. Every doctor I see are always surprised by my healing rate. Their only explanation for me is that it must be something genetic."

"And you have no idea if that's true because you have no recollection of your parents?"

"Yup." You reply as you raise your now free arms slightly in the air and work your fingers and elbows.

Lucifer kneels and undoes the bandage knot at your left ankle. You allow him to untie it up to your kneecap before you stop him, "I can do the rest from here." Lucifer just pouts at you and you raise your brow in a pointed look that said: "you really think I'd let you go all the way up". He starts at the right ankle as you finish up the left side.

"Need me to help you get undressed, or help scrub you up?" Lucifer smiles flirtatiously down at you as you finish the right leg.

You smile genuinely and shake your head before looking up at him, "You already know my answer to that, Lucifer."

"Can't blame a Devil for trying." He walks over to his shower and opens the glass door for you, so all you have to do is hop on in with your crutches, "Scream my name seductively if you need me." He winks at you then leaves the bathroom, closing the door.

You catch yourself smiling at the door before shaking your head to snap out of it.

You slowly stand. You lean against the vanity as you slowly put more and more weight on your feet. Satisfied you wouldn't fall, you remove your shorts and place them on the vanity. Both hands go to opposite bottom corners of your t-shirt and you lift up-

"Hello there!"

You push your shirt back down and slam back onto the chair, biting your cheek from the pain of such fast movement. Face blushing madly, you grab your shorts and lay them on your lap, covering yourself the best you can.

"LUCIFER!"

"Oh drat, I was hoping to catch you in your bra as well. Oh well. Those lovely lacey boy shorts will have to do." He winks at you from the bathroom door.

"What do you want, Lucifer?!"

"Oh, just popping in to ask what you'd like for dinner." He answers nonchalantly.

You give him dagger eyes, "You couldn't have asked me before you left?"

His shrug is such a big fat lie, "I forgot."

"Liar." You hiss.

He just smiles devilishly at you, "Sooo?"

"I don't care, Lucifer. Surprise me. Now get the hell out!"

"Alright, dear. I promise I won't enter again without you asking me to." He nods his head then closes the door once more. After waiting a minute to make sure he was gone, you grab your crutches and hobble your way to the door, locking it.

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The shower took a bit longer than you expected. Not only did you have to go slow to make sure you didn't peel the scabs too soon, and boy was that hard while in that freezing water, but it was hard to not think about all the women and men who have probably showered here. Plus knowing you had to sit in the very spot where a lot of…stuff had most likely happened and came out, was very distracting.

Once you were completely dried, clothed, and hair had been thoroughly combed you crutch your way out of the bathroom.

Stepping around the corner into the entryway of Lucifer's bedroom you see that Lucifer had set up two trays on his couch. From what you can see there's two black cereal bowls that hold something white and two small white bowls that hold an assortment of cut fruit. Each table also has its own drink, one with whiskey and the other with what you hope is water and not vodka.

Lucifer puts some silverware on the trays then turns around. When he sees you he gives a wide smile and gestures to the food, "Dinner is ready, my dear!"

You go over to stand next to him and look down at the trays. What was in the black bowls was ice cream.

"Ice cream? Really?" You look up at him with a smirk on your face.

"You disapprove?"

"Of course not! It's friggin' ice cream, but why?"

"Apparently a good thing for patients to eat after spending time in the hospital is fresh fruit, dairy, and protein. You seem like the kind of woman who would skip right to dessert after leaving that dreadful building."

You raise a brow at him. He's right, but you hide the feeling of how he seemed to already know you from your face. You can't tell what that feeling is in your chest.

"And how do you know what's good to eat after a hospital? Experience?"

"Hardly. I, how you humans say, 'googled it'."

You burst into laughter, "You're taking this nurse thing really seriously."

"Why wouldn't I? I truly do want to make sure you heal fully."

You stop laughing when you hear the seriousness in his tone. You look up at him and see no humor in his eyes. Instead, you see the look of worry in a man who thinks he's guilty.

You hold onto his hand in a comforting way, "I'm fine, Lucifer, and I do very much appreciate what you're doing for me right now. So please, stop thinking that what happened is somehow your fault." He looks into your eyes and gives a small smile, giving your hand a small squeeze in response.

You smile, satisfied, "Now let's dig into dinner-ssert already."

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You wake up to the morning LA sun streaming through the penthouse's wall of windows. You stretch your entire body out on Lucifer's bed and revel in the aftermath of having the best sleep of your life.

Last night with Lucifer was actually pretty fun. As you two were eating he turned the tv on to some comedy channel. "Laughter is the best medicine I'm told," he had said. You two had enjoyed some friendly banter while also making fun of the comedian's bad jokes. When midnight rolled around he noticed your struggle to keep your eyes open. He turned off the tv and helped you up off the couch and sent you to bed, like a good nurse.

You stretch your arms above you to take in the damage. You told Lucifer that it was best not to wrap up your arms and legs. Since the wounds were already scabbing it was best to let nature's air do its thing. And you were right, a lot of the scabs on your arms were already ready to come off.

Don't know what it is about my body, but damn if I'm not always grateful for fast healing.

The urge to pick them off was strong, but you knew that would be incredibly rude and disgusting to do on Lucifer's bed.

You rise to a sitting position and turn to the side of the bed. You stand up slowly to test pressure on your feet. Thankfully, it feels like you're able to walk on your own now, but only as a slow waddle. The wounds on your feet and ankles still aren't fully healed yet.

Maybe I should at least wrap them up.

You waddle your way into the bathroom and run into-

"Butt." You stand stone still in the doorframe. Eyes wide, you take in Lucifer's naked body as he stands in front of a sink brushing his teeth.

He rinses his mouth then turns his head to you, "Good morning to you as well, K9!" He says with a shit-eating grin, "Like what you see?"

You believe your body has turned as red as a lobster. You quickly turn around and give him your back, "Why are you naked?!" You ask his closet.

"I sleep naked." He replies so damn nonchalantly.

"Well can you please put some clothes on!"

You hear him sigh, "You know, I'm getting a serious case of deja vu right now. Are you and the Detective related?"

"Lucifer."

"Fine fine." You hear some shuffling behind you, "Alright, I'm all covered. Promise." You turn slowly around and see that Lucifer has wrapped a towel around his waist. He's facing you with a motion of his hands that says "all good now". You take in a breath of relief and Lucifer scoffs, "I'll never understand why you humans fear seeing your own kind naked."

You were going to reply to him, but he turned around.

And you saw his back.

Those scars…

You could faintly hear Lucifer call out to you as you fell to the ground. You couldn't see the real world anymore. Visions of what you think are memories you've forgotten flash by.

He stands before you. His glorious wings the color of your darkness. Dressed in armor with a sword at his hip, he addresses you, "He has heard you and has sent me to give you what you seek." His voice is booming. Deep and rough. Not kind.

Your body screams at you-

"Earth!" You blink away the visions. You're back inside Lucifer's bathroom.

Lucifer kneels to your left. His arms hold your back up so you are sitting instead of laying. His eyes and face are filled with concern for you.

For me.

"Darling, what happened? Are you alright? Should I call the hospital?" His eyes are searching yours.

"What happened to you?" You ask. Your voice sounds dead to you.

Lucifer pauses, noticing your voice tone as well, "...to me?"

"Your back." You press on, "What happened? Who did that to you?"

Lucifer stares at you, "Maze did. That's where my wings were and I told her to cut them off as a spit in my Father's face."

You shake your head violently, "Stop with that whole Devil shtick, Lucifer! I need to know the truth, please."

"It's not a shtick, K9!" You could see the pleading in his eyes. He wants you to believe him. Needs you to, "I never lie. Especially not to you." You close your eyes and take deep breaths in and out.

Calm down, Earth. Those visions were fake. You're crazy. Lucifer's crazy. None of it was real.

"K9?" Lucifer whispers to you and you open your eyes again.

You're back to normal, "I'm sorry, Lucifer. I don't know what came over me. I'm fine."

Lucifer just stares at you for a bit, then he places a hand on your cheek and keeps locked eye contact with you, "Earth," you felt the air change and could hear a slight difference in his voice.

What's he doing?

"Earth," Lucifer repeats, and he keeps your eyes locked with his, "What's wrong? What happened to you, darling?"

You just stare back with a look of complete confusion, "Umm. Are you trying that mojo thing Chloe talks about?"

Now Lucifer is looking at you with complete confusion, "...Yes. What...Are you sure you're not related to her?"

"Lucifer. I'm ok now." You remove his hand from your face and break eye contact. You lift yourself up and walk over to one of the stalls, "Just...just leave me alone for a while today, ok?" You close the door, not waiting for his reply, and rest on the toilet.

It's a long while before you hear Lucifer move, but eventually he does, "Alright, darling. I'll be down in the club if you need me." You hear Lucifer shut the bathroom door. Finally, you are alone with your thoughts.

What in the actual fuck is going on?

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

"Lucifer!"

Maze walks down the steps and heads to her Devil, who was currently hunched on a stool at the bar counter with the ever trusty whiskey in hand.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Maze asks as she leans on the bar next to him.

"Just stewing over whatever His 'plan' is, yet again," Lucifer replies to the bar and takes a shot of his drink.

"Well, maybe this will cheer you up because it sure does cheer me up."

"What?"

Maze leans her face to his and whispers with an evil grin, "Want to go deal some punishment on one of those bomb fucks?"

Lucifer lifts his brow. His sour mood all gone, now replaced with his Devil side, "Just one?"

"The ticks still haven't found the one responsible for the bomb that actually blew, but that other bomb? They found the kid who's known for making that kind, and," Maze's grin grew more and she licks her lips, "with my own persuasion I got him to tell me who ordered it."

"So, who's the champ getting a special treatment from the Devil?" Lucifer stands up and fixes his suit, making himself more presentable.

"Dear old 'Mum'."

Lucifer's body went completely still. Maze watches as his eyes process the information. They go from shock, to disbelief, to those beautiful red eyes she loves so much.

Lucifer says nothing. Just takes long strides out of the building. Maze laughs mechanically and runs to catch up with him. No way was she missing this.

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

You're curled up on Lucifer's couch watching some mind-numbing television when you hear the elevator doors chime open. You brace yourself to talk with Lucifer, but when you turn your head to look it's Chloe who steps out.

"Hey, girl." Chloe motions for you to stay sitting. She comes over and sits next to you, "How are you feeling?" She asks as she hugs you.

Confused. Scared. Sad.

"A lot better." You say hugging her back.

"I can tell." Chloe smiles as she takes in your appearance, "No bandages, barely any scabs left, and you're curled up in your weird sitting position."

"Haha." You give your BFF a sarcastic laugh and an eye roll.

"Where's Lucifer?" Chloe notices now the vacancy of flirts and sass remarks.

"He said he'd be downstairs for most of the day."

"I didn't see him down there."

"Really?" A small bubble of relief pops in you.

"Yeah. Some nurse he is then for not telling you." Chloe shakes her head in disapproval.

"Actually Chloe he's been-" You pause for a second to relive the time you spent yesterday with him. You can't help the small smile that appears on your face, "He's been a pretty good nurse. I'm only alone right now because I asked to be alone. Not his fault."

"Hmm, well anyways I came to not only visit you, but to also tell you some good news!" Chloe's smiling now.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't have any news for you last night, but this morning Agent Monroe made a breakthrough. A small one, but that's better than nothing." Chloe sits crossed-legged on the couch facing you, "He managed to find out who the maker of the second bomb is, the one that didn't go off."

"Any way I could guess who?"

"Doubt it. Remember back when I asked you to look into that real estate murder because Dan was too busy with another case?"

You think back to that day when you and Lucifer first worked together. Now a bubble of happiness pops in you, "Yeah."

"Well that case was a bomb one, and he found the guy responsible for it. More of a kid than a guy, actually. He's a pizza boy who makes bombs on the side."

Your eyes go wide.

"Yup." Chloe continues, "Turns out that bomb was one of his, but he claims that he only makes them. He doesn't actively use them."

"So, who'd he sell that bomb to?"

"He won't tell, of course. Before Monroe was about to break him his lawyer stepped in." Chloe scoffs in disgust and annoyance, "Mrs. Charlotte Richards has become a real thorn in the precinct's side."

Your jaw falls open, "Charlotte Richards is a pizza boy's lawyer?"

"Yeah. That is pretty weird...why?" Chloe looks quizzically at you.

"She was at the restaurant Lucifer took me to that night, and I did not get good vibes from her. She really didn't like me being out with her son."

Now it was Chloe's turn to have her jaw drop, "What?!"

"What?"

"Charlotte Richards is Lucifer's mother?!"

"Yeah. Or stepmom, I'm not entirely sure," you take in Chloe's shocked appearance, "You...didn't know did you?"

"No, I didn't!" Chloe flops back on the couch, "Honestly, though, it makes complete sense."

"Sooo," you try to continue the conversation, "You said Charlotte stepped in right when that boy was about to spill the beans?"

"Yeah...she even paid his bail for making the bombs." You could see the wheels turning in her brain, "You said she was there that night with you two?"

"Yup."

"Did it seem like a coincidence that she happened to be there?"

"She said it was a company dinner, but I somehow doubt that."

"Hmm...maybe I could go question her colleagues," Chloe says this more to herself than to you.

"Woah, wait a sec Chloe. You think Lucifer's mom might be on this?"

"It's just speculation. You said she didn't seem to like you, and she has some sort of...aura about her." Chloe gives you one more hug then stands up, "I'm going to head over there to investigate. I'll call you if I find anything." Then she's in the elevator and the doors shut.

Oh shit.

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

The Goddess of creation stands over her wooden work desk. She gathers up the last of the report papers and puts them inside her bag.

"Mother!"

The Goddess looks up to see her Lightbringer enter her office. She wasn't surprised to see him. She could hear his strong footsteps enter the building.

"Yes, son?" She walks around from behind her desk to the front to be closer to him.

"How could you?!" Her son's clearly angry. She sees that demon of his enter the room to stand behind him. It draws out its blades and twirls them while grinning at her.

"How could I, what?" She tilts her head at her son. Complete innocence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" He points his finger at her. His voice grows deeper and deeper with each sentence.

The Goddess just crosses her arms and leans against the desk. She rolls her eyes, "I don't see why you're so upset. She's just a human."

"First Azrael's blade," he steps closer, "and now you tried, nae, wanted to kill Earth.". He's right in front of his mother's face now.

"Well, I didn't kill her."

"That's it mother." Lucifer's Devil face is fully out now. The Goddess cringes at that hideous face her ex has given their beautiful son, "Your time here on earth is finished." Lucifer's demon steps closer, daggers ready.

"You can't kill me, Lucifer." The Goddess stands her ground. She doesn't fear this "Devil".

The demon scoffs, "Of course he can. Stop stalling."

"I'm not stalling, creature. I'm telling the truth." She sees her son's Devil face raise what would be a brow at her, "You can only 'kill' me by destroying this body. Do that, and you've murdered a human."

"The human, Charlotte Richards, was dead before you entered her," Lucifer responds.

"True, but when I entered her I felt her soul." The Goddess lifts her head in triumph, "Charlotte Richards has been connected back to her body, even in death."

"You've gotta be fucking with us." The demon peers at her.

The Goddess gives the demon a disgusted look, then focuses back on her son, "Kill me and you murder a human. Your Father's number one rule."

"Like I care about His rules."

"True, but you, my son," the Goddess holds the Devil's face in her hands, "you are not a murderer."

The Devil's eyes search her face, but she ends up winning. Lucifer drops his Devil face.

"We can still punish her!" His demon pleads to him.

He raises his hand to silence her, then he removes his mother's hands from his face and takes a step back, "You even think about going after her again, and I will become a murderer."

Lucifer walks out of her office and, after a lot of evil glaring, his demon follows him out.

He may be pissed now, but he should thank his Father for Chloe having her back turned to him and being too focused on questioning the workers to notice his departure.

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

Lucifer steps out of his elevator entering his penthouse. He looks up and sees you standing by his piano with your belongings packed up next to you.

"I'm feeling better now." You reply to his questionable eyebrow raise, "I don't want to take too much of your hospitality."

"You're no trouble, K9."

"I...I know." You look down at your clasped hands, "I just want to go home now. Get back to life."

Lucifer's silent for a bit, "I'm sorry if-"

"No no." You raise your hand and walk to him, "You have nothing to be sorry about, Lucifer. You've been a wonderful nurse." You give him a small smile, "Thank you."

He looks slightly taken back, but returns your smile with his own, "You're quite welcome, my dear." You nod to him, then grab your things and head to the elevator.

"K9, wait." Your finger hovers over the elevator's button, waiting. "How do you plan on getting home?"

"Oh, I was just going to call a cab."

"Please, let me take you home instead." You couldn't tell what kind of emotion was showing in his eyes, and you don't think he knew either.

Your heart constricted and your stomach was doing flip flops, but you give him a smile and nod your head, "Ok."

The ride to your apartment building was a quiet one, but it was a welcoming silence. Every now and then you'd catch Lucifer looking at you, and he would catch you looking at him.

You arrive at the building and Lucifer walks with you inside and to your door. You unlock it and step halfway inside before turning around to face him.

"Goodnight, Lucifer."

He smiles at you, "Goodnight, Earth."

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

Lucifer sits at his piano. A lite cigarette laying in an ashtray and a glass of whiskey in front of him. He plays the tune to Les Friction's "Torture", but stops when he hears his elevator door ding open.

"Detective?" Lucifer can't help the surprised tone in his voice, "It's a bit late for a case isn't it?"

"I'm not here for a case, Lucifer." She walks closer to him and he stands up from his piano bench to face her properly.

"Is everything alright?"

"I hope so." Chloe's hands interlace together in a nervous matter, "Earth told me she went home. I figured now was a good time to talk to you."

"About?"

"Us, Lucifer." Chloe walks closer to him until they're almost touching.

"I want to talk about our kiss."

[x1-imaginesreturns]

The Key to a Curse - Dohyon Quantum Leap Part 2

Masterlist

Pairing: Dohyon x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4,977

Notes: Ahh! It’s been too long since I’ve posted for Quantum Leap, but here we are with the new part! I’ll get back to my regular schedule after this, sorry for the long delay!!

Song Recommendation: Run Away - TXT

Quantum Leap : The Beginning

You and Aoi stared at him in silence for many, long, drawn-out seconds, before you silently exclaim, “182 years?! What the hell are you in here for?? And how are you even alive for that matter?” Aoi nods with you, gaping at the boy.

By his young appearance, you would have never guessed he had been alive for that long. Nothing about him seemed overgrown or gross either, his chestnut hair perfectly surrounding his face and his skin looked as if it had recently been washed.

He laughs slightly before answering, “Isn’t it obvious?”

His amber eyes flash, the pupils of his eyes dilating down to look reptilian, and a small puff of smoke came from his nose. “I’m a dragon,” he says, “And you humans seem to think we’re extinct. Course… maybe sending me to this school wasn’t the best idea, but we’re very much alive.”

“And who are you two exactly? I haven’t seen anyone in over fifty years,” he finishes. You and Aoi look back and forth between each other before you answer, “We’re students here. But… neither of us are under the effects of the mind control.”

Dohyon’s eyes narrow at you skeptically, and you start stumbling over your words as you attempt to give him an answer, “W-well… They thought Aoi here was a girl, so the serum didn’t work on him,” you continue, hearing Aoi snort in frustration behind you, “And I-”

You cut yourself off, unsure of how to explain your situation. “I… I come from another world. In fact, I just got here last night. I woke up in someone else’s body… and well they just happened to be the daughter of the Principal and have the exact same name as me.”

Your lips shut tight, and you’re confused as to why you just spilled your new life story to a dragon boy who’s been stuck in a closet at the end of a forbidden hallway for 182 years. But your wide eyes continue to look into his as he contemplates the situation. He breathes in deeply before asking you, “And what exactly is your name?”

“W-well… my name is y/n.”

Dohyon’s entire demeanor freezes, and his eyes widen considerably. He stands up, walking forward until he’s right in front of you. “Is that really your name?,” he asks seriously, his yellow eyes glaring deep into yours. 

You hear Aoi step forward next to you, before you see him push Dohyon back slightly. “Hey don’t get so close to her! You’re gonna scare her,” Aoi says defensively, “And plus, what’s with that question? Of course that’s her name. She wouldn’t just lie to a dragon’s face! And don’t think that all humans are so ignorant to your species existing.”

“It’s okay Aoi,” you say calmly, placing one of your hands on Aoi’s shoulders, “And yes, y/n is my real name. It’s my name in the world I come from, and it’s the name the person I have taken over has as well.” 

Dohyon’s eye twitches and for a split second, the entire room fills with a tri-colored light. It all absorbs back into him, and he quietly says, “Do you mind closing the door behind you?” You and Aoi look at each other again before Aoi turns around and closes the door.

As he makes his way back, Dohyon says, “If you’re here already… that means we haven’t delayed Talo and kdqmbg for long enough. Can I see your bracelet?”

You hold up your bracelet immediately when you detect his rushed tone and wild eyes. He examines it only for a second before letting your wrist go. “That’s strange… that’s the charm I… things weren’t supposed to start already! I’ve only been in here for 182 years, but this process was supposed to happen long after 1,000 years had passed…”

He trails off, starting to pace back and forth across the room. Aoi quirks an eyebrow up and asks, “Mind explaining to us exactly what is going on? You’re leaving things very vague for us over here.” Dohyon stops and looks at you both before answering, “I can’t explain everything right now, especially to you, y/n. I need more evidence to figure out if my hypothesis is correct. But that’s not going to happen until I’m set free.”

“So…, do you two mind helping me get out of this prison?,” he asks finally, but Aoi immediately counters back with, “Well, you can just walk out the door now, we’ve unlocked  it.” Dohyon starts chuckling at Aoi’s remark before he says, “If it was that simple, I would’ve walked out of here the last time a student came in here to release me.”

“Someone else has tried before?,” you ask curiously, “Why didn’t they get you out then?” Dohyon sighs quickly before answering, “The school or some student caught him, because he was slain and soon enough the keys were returned to me, and an even stronger magic-lock system was put on my door, and the doors that will help me escape.”

“His name was Gunther by the way,” Dohyon finishes, his eyes clearly reflecting deep memories. “So how exactly do we get you out of here?,” Aoi asks, clearly not noticing Dohyon’s inner turmoil, “Since the previous person that tried got killed, I’m quite reluctant to help you in the first place.”

“Well, it’s for our sake in general. If I don’t get freed and find the answers I need… then most likely everyone in this world will die,” Dohyon states, a serious air filling the room, “And it’s for y/n. She’s in the most danger here… but at the same time… her bqmlakntcgq is the whole reason all of us are getting into this mess anyways.”

“My bqmlakntcgq…?,” you ask confusedly, “What did she do?” Dohyon just sighs at your question and answers, “To be honest, I don’t think you’re ready for the answer to that question yet. In fact, y/n, I’ll tell you right now…”

“Forget everything you’ve been told. Your entire life… has been a lie. An illusion of sorts.”

The entire room freezes for a second and you ask desperately, “What do you mean? I don’t understand any of this! Why am I so important? What has my family done? What have I done?”

Dohyon’s face softens with sympathy, and he says, “I hate not being able to give the answers y/n, but I think you’ll understand the best when the truth reveals itself. Which… I have a feeling that the truth will appear very, very soon.”

“But we will discuss all of this later,” Dohyon says, turning around to walk to the back of the small room, picking up a small box, before walking back to where he was standing formerly. “This,” he starts, “Is the only item that can leave this room. And when I open it…”

He trails off, opening the old and rusted box to reveal a set of three keys. The first one was decorated just like the one you had used to open the door, except the bitting cuts were clearly different, this time more round in shape. 

The second key was more rusted than the box it came in, but it had hundreds of elegant dragon scales carved upon the shaft and bow of it. However, it had no bit, and the shaft just ended in a strangely shaped point. 

The third and final key was made out of some sort of colorful gemstone, and wasn’t smooth in any sort of way. The bow was quite round, but from attached to both sides of the circle was a diamond-shaped piece of ordinary stone. The bit was also made of this stone, and was quite square compared to the other keys.

“These three keys will aid my escape,” Dohyon starts, once he thinks you’ve examined each of the keys, “Each one opens a certain door in the school, which will lead you on a quest to find one of the key that open the invisible locks on the door.”

“Only I can see these locks. There are five locks on the door in total, one key from the dragon head key room, and two from the other key rooms,” Dohyon says confidently, “And then of course, you have to unlock the physical door too. Make sure to not lose the door key.”

“I can’t offer you much help in actually finding the rooms and keys themselves, besides the first one,” Dohyon says, walking back to where he got the box from, “Gunther only told me what room the first key unlocked, and I carved it on the wall behind where the box was.”

Dohyon kneels down, using his magic to hold up a small flame before reading, “Room 57’s closet, which is in Ravinder Tower,  is where the first puzzle awaits for you to complete. That is… if you’re willing to set me free from this place?”

Once again, you and Aoi share a look. His eyes are doubtful, and he looks over the keys in the box once again. Before waiting for him to give you any sort of answer, you say…

“I’ll help you escape Dohyon.”

Aoi’s eyes widen immensely, a few flabbergasted noises leaving his mouth,  and Dohyon flashes you a charming smile. “Good to know. How about you Aoi?,” Dohyon asks, tilting his head towards him. “I-I’ll help!,” he cries out, before his cheeks turn slightly pink, “But don’t think I like you or anything dragon boy… I’m only doing this because y/n seems to like you.”

Aoi lets out a small ‘hmmph!’ sound and turns his head upward haughtily before you look back at Dohyon. He walks back over to the two of you and hands you the box of keys. “Be as safe as possible, will you? I don’t want the same thing that happened to Gunther happening to you. In fact… it is quite imperative that neither of you reach an ill fate.”

You nod confidently and say, “Don’t worry too much. Aoi here is the master of sneaking around the school, and I have a favor to ask of you, in fact.” Dohyon gives you a perplexed look before asking, “And what kind of favor would you need to ask of a dragon who’s currently stuck inside of a small room?”

“For every key we collect for you… will you answer one of my questions that I have? You know, about why I’m so important and how exactly you know my bqmlakntcgq and all that?,” you ask kindly and Dohyon sighs before answering, “Yes. You have my word that I will answer ONE of your questions for every key.”

You smile gratefully, before motioning to Aoi to open the door again. 

“We’ll back soon then, with the first key!”

~~

After you and Aoi trudged back to your room with the box of keys, the two of you immediately fell into deep sleep, no dreams even daring to bother the two of you that night. And when you woke up, the box of keys was still right on your desk, exactly where you had placed them last night.

Aoi didn’t wake up too much longer after you, and upon noticing the key box on your desk, he remarked, “Oh, so it wasn’t a dream?” Which sent you into a giggling fit, and Aoi simply sighed at your antics, slipping into the bathroom to get changed.

“So when are we going to go over to Ravinder Tower?,” you called out to him as you were slipping your skirt back on. “Probably tonight,” Aoi exclaims back, “Dragon boy seemed to be in quite a rush to get his answers or whatever, so we should at least respect that or something…” You quickly throw on the rest of your outfit, and Aoi asks through the door, “Can I come back in the room?” 

“Yep!,” you answer back and walk into the bathroom after Aoi exits. You look right into the mirror, and shudder quickly before popping in the red contacts Aoi had given you. You brushed your hair quickly, and stormed back into the bedroom to grab your bag.

Aoi was already ready to go, so the two of you headed out towards Aeron Tower, where both of your first classes were. You had History of Magic Beings, while Aoi had History of the Dark Arts. After these classes, you and Aoi wouldn’t see each other until lunch, which is when the two of you planned to sneak into the staff room to pick up extra guard uniforms, which would definitely help the two of you if you got caught for some reason.

The first class seemed to pass by very slowly, but soon enough you were walking out into the school courtyard for your class called “Recreational Magic”, which definitely had you feeling quite nervous, as you knew for a fact you wouldn’t be able to pull off anything remotely magical. 

But you still walked out there, only to see Dongpyo and a few other kids milling about the lawn. An older lady, who was clearly the teacher, was sitting across from you and the other kids, simply reading a book. 

And as the large school bell chimes echoed throughout the school, the teacher didn’t even look up. All of the kids who were out there immediately starting pulling magic out of them, setting off huge bursts into the sky or creating shapes and figures with their magic.

But after a few minutes of just watching everyone do their magic, you simply plopped to the ground, unsure of what to do with your current situation. As soon as you did, though, someone kicked your back, causing you to fall forward from your position, and yelled, “Hmmm, what’s this?? The daughter of the principal herself sitting down during a magic class?”

As you slowly stood up to face them, dusting yourself off as you got up, you immediately saw it was Dongpyo himself. You froze on the spot as he stormed over to you, getting right into your face. Of course, you immediately saw his glowing, red eyes, but unlike everyone else’s they had a yellow ring outlining the pupil of his eye.

However, you had no time to dwell on it, as Dongpyo jeered, “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue? If you’re not going to play by the rules, I’ll give you a little taste of what the principal did to that new f̷̡̠̣̫̲̙͎͍̙̬̝̖̀̔̈̃̔̆̽̓͜͝r̶̭̣͂́̀͐̓ỉ̷̧̱̹̻̹̗͙̜̭̰̜̹͍͔̈͌͑̃̌͗̌̉̾̾͝ê̶̺͎͇̩̥ņ̸͇̗̖̫͉̹͚͉̥̘͍̙͖͐̎͊͐̚͜͝d̷̢͔̹̼̳̠̰͔͙̥̎̂̒́̏̑̔̊͑̐̀́͜͠ͅ of yours.”

Just as Dongpyo pulled his hand back, a blue energy charging in the palm of that hand, you somehow fell through the ground and into a hole. You spiraled downwards for quite a while before it opened up into a magenta-colored space, small gems floating in the corners around the room.

“Hello?,” you called out confusedly, “Is anyone there?” Your words echoed in the space around you, and just in front of you, a figure started to appear. He was tinted magenta, but his hair was clearly black, and his eyes were glowing a bold green.

He also wore the school uniform that you were wearing now, but he also had a beanie on his head. “Hi, I’m Gunther,” he says, “I’m the person or thing, I guess, who saved you from the mind control yesterday. And yes, I am the dead spirit of the last person who tried to save Dohyon. How I ended up in this bracelet, I have no idea.”

“But I don’t have much time for introductions, so just know that I’ll be guiding you along your way to rescue Dohyon. I know more about freeing him than most people do, anyway. But I’ll also be lending you my powers… so I’ll save you from whoever that was up there,” he finishes, flashing you a quick smile before you’re thrown back up into the real world, right where you left off.

You cross your arms to protect you from the blow, and just as Dongpyo lurches forward, a barrier appears in front of you, completely reflecting his attack. And as you look at your arms curiously, you knew this was definitely Gunther’s work.

As the dust from Dongpyo’s strike clears, you immediately see him smiling at you. “Looks like she does have something in her after all,” he states cockily, before murmuring, “Too bad it’s not really her own.”

He simply laughs before turning back to the people he was with before. ‘What the hell even just happened,’ you thought to yourself, ‘And who is controlling Dongpyo? This doesn’t seem like the behavior of someone who’s just under the effects of the mind control…’

~~

Finally, after what felt like forever, lunch finally arrived, and you met Aoi exactly where you planned to meet in the first place. It wouldn’t be unusual for the two of you to sit together, as the rule was that you could only sit with your roommates. 

You told Aoi everything that had happened already, including how you had met Gunther and your strange encounter with Dongpyo. Aoi took a few minutes to contemplate over everything before suddenly saying, “We’re definitely up against something bigger than what we think, that’s for sure. And I bet you anything… dragon boy knows something about it.”

“Like think about it, he clearly was a student here, and they found him out for being a dragon. Whatever, I can guarantee you that instead of locking him up, the would’ve put him in some sort of display or would’ve gone on a search to find more dragons.”

“Whoever locked him in there knew exactly what they were doing. I guarantee it,” Aoi says, pausing for a second as you nodded at his comments, “You know what… why don’t you use your question that you get from the key we’re finding tonight to ask him about it?”

You nod enthusiastically. “That will probably get me some of the answers I want anyways,” you state, looking Aoi in the eyes, “Well, looks like we got ourselves a date with Room 57 tonight!” Aoi giggles at your cheer, and raises his glass of water up to you secretly.

You clink your glass against his, and the two of you share a smile just as the bell rings.

~~

You and Aoi had long slipped out of your school uniforms by now and had finished the few assignments that had been given to you today. And now, the two of you were scrambling around your dorm room, packing light bags for the journey ahead. You had already checked if you had the spare key to Room 57 that you swiped from the key room last night on the way back to your room last night, along with the key that would open the closet.

Aoi wasn’t so much packing as he was pacing around the room, muttering random, incomprehensible things to himself as he did so. And soon enough, he stopped on the spot and asked you, “Are you ready to go? Now’s the perfect time to go.”

The two of you had agreed to go a little earlier than last night, as Ravinder Tower was the one all the way across from your tower, Tenzin Tower. You slipped out of your room just as you did last night, and right as you got into the main hall, a strange magenta pattern appeared on your hand.

Aoi immediately turned around to raise an eyebrow at you, clearly asking ‘what is this?’. As the two of you kept walking, you pointed to your bracelet, indicating that it was probably something that Gunther had done to protect you both.

He nodded before pulling you along at a quicker pace. No guards seemed to be in any of the halls at all, and a slight feeling of dread and anticipation filled you as you edged closer and closer to Ravinder Tower. 

Soon enough, you and Aoi were stalking up the stairs of the tower, heading straight towards Room 57. Aoi had already told you that it was a potions classroom, so you weren’t surprised when you saw the cauldrons that sat in the room, and the herb shelf that was behind the teacher’s desk.

And to the left of the teacher’s desk was the closet door. It was made out of very dark wood, and it hadn’t been smoothed out, giving the door a texture that almost looked like a flowing river. The doorknob and keyhole were made of the same material that the dragon key was, and even the bolts on the door were made of the gemstone that made up the dragon’s eye.

You sighed silently, before stepping ahead of Aoi and inserting the key into the keyhole. You slowly turned it, feeling its inner mechanisms come undone before there was the reassuring click as the key settled into its final position. The door creaked open as you pulled it, and you were met with a cramped room, which was definitely only big enough for one person to be in.

Aoi saw this and nodded, motioning for you to go forward. As soon as both of you feet were on the floor…

The surface dropped from beneath you, and suddenly you were falling with the entire room itself. Everything hit the new floor with a loud crash, and you immediately heard Aoi cry out from above you, “Y/n! Are you okay?”

As you shakily stood up, clutching your spinning head, you yelled back, “Yeah, I’m okay! Is there anything new up there?” Just as you say that, three panels on the opposite side of the room fall forward, revealing a small crawl way.

“No!,” he yells back down, “What’s it like down there?” You turn so you’re facing the hole and quickly yell back, “A small tunnel has appeared, I’m gonna go down it! Wait for me to come back up!” 

Just as you start crawling forward you hear Aoi cry back, “Don’t go in there just ye-,” but as you find yourself entirely in the hole, his voice completely disappears. Figuring there was no reason to go back now, you continued inching yourself through the cramped tunnel. Your only source of light guiding you were small, glowing mushrooms that grew all along the enclosure.

After what felt like twenty minutes, you finally noticed a different kind of light ahead of you in the tunnel. And as you finally reached it, you fell forward once again, falling straight onto a wooden floor. You stood up, clutching your head, before realizing that the light was coming from a candle that lay on a table in the center of the room.

Slightly underneath the candle’s stand lay a note, which read…

Here lies the tomb of the ancient dragon king

His son is trapped in the castle near

The bloodline flows even as time continues

One secret heir

Within the books upon the shelves

Lay one secret after another

That only a descendant of the council can discover

And if you seek the key

Summon the friend that lies within yee

‘Within… me?,’ you thought confusedly, ‘Who’s inside of me?’ A poof of magenta smoke went off next you, and a familiar voice chimed, “They mean me, of course.” 

Floating next to you now, was Gunther, an adventurous smile plastered on his face. “W-what the-?,” you exclaim, blinking your eyes a bit to make sure you’re not seeing things. “You’re definitely not seeing things, y/n,” Gunther says teasingly, “Sorry… I should probably mention that I can hear your thoughts.”

“You can?!,” you exclaim loudly, and Gunther giggles, “We can continue to talk about what I can and can’t do at a later time,” he says, “But for right now, it’s my job to help you find the key. I only have some idea of where to start, as they changed it all up after they found me out.”

He flies forward, snapping his fingers as he does so, somehow managing to light up the room. Right in front of the table you’re at, there’s a huge statue of a dragon, fire coming out of its mouth as it attacks a guard, who is blocking the fire with his shield. Around you are thousands of shelves of books, each one different in shape and size. 

Gunther suddenly floats back, perching on top of the dragon statue with a worn down book in his right hand. He drops it down onto the table, and he flips the pages until he suddenly stops, pulling the words off of the page, somehow rearranging them into the shape of a key.

He drops the newly formed key into your hand, letting your examine it. The letters were clearly still imprinted on every part of the key, but each word was crossed over with so many others that it was hard to make out exactly what it said. The key was also smooth, and the bit carving was quite sporadic. You looked back up at him and asked, “How… how exactly did you do that so quickly?”

“Well, if you were like me and had to figure out the entire puzzle by yourself over a few different nights, you would’ve had to flip over the letter you just read to find the set of numbers,” Gunther starts, a smirk already present on his face, “To have to go over there to find the old poster that has the cypher to the numbers, to then find the books that each number is for, to then take the seventeen clues you are given to find the final book, which when you recite the puzzle, gives you the key.”

“But since this room knows me and knows I’ve already figured it out, it just led me straight to the key,” Gunther finishes, jumping down to sit on the table right next to you. “That certainly is… a lot,” you say astoundingly. 

Gunther nods before bouncing up again, causing you to turn around to face him. “To be honest y/n, I’m surprised Dohyon actually asked you for help first. When I first found the key, it was just lying about in Aeron Tower, which is where my dorm was. When I touched it, the mind control on me completely slipped away from me.”

“I instantly had a feeling that this key was for one of the doors in the Forbidden Corridor, so when I opened Dohyon’s door to find him in there, I was shocked,” Gunther continues, “Dohyon was also extremely shocked, but quite refused to say anything on why he was in there or how I could help him escape.”

“Over and over, he kept telling me, ‘you’re not the one who can help me.’ or ‘there’s someone I’m specifically waiting for.’ Of course, I couldn’t help but feel a little dejected at these remarks, but after enough nights of me pestering him, he finally agreed.”

“And now that I’m thinking about it y/n, you’re definitely the person he’s been waiting for. But I think you are here at the wrong time,” he says seriously, “I think something has gone terribly wrong. I mean, I’m technically back in the world! It’s nice to have a physical form and all of that again… but it just feels wrong. I think you’ve tinkered with something that wasn’t ever supposed to be messed with.”

“But what do I know?,” Gunther jokes, clearly trying to get off of the serious subject, “I’ll return into your bracelet now, I think Aoi’s starting to panic up there.” And just like how he appeared, Gunther poofed back into your bracelet, disappearing entirely.

Knowing you couldn’t dwell on what you just learned here, you headed straight for the crawl way, and scurried back towards where Aoi was. As soon as you emerged back into the room you had crashed down in, it lit up, the pieces of the room floating upwards, bringing you along as it put itself back together. 

You blinked a few times before Aoi rapidly flung open the door, to see you standing there, brand new key in hand. “Oh my goodness y/n!,” Aoi says, stepping forward to fling his arms around you, “I was so worried! But you’ve got the key… should we go to Dohyon’s now? Or tomorro-”

“Tonight,” you said firmly, “Gunther appeared down there to help me and now I have more questions than I did last night. And we’ve got to get them out of him somehow.”

~~

You and Aoi storm back down the main hall towards the Forbidden Corridor. You knew that packing the key to his door was going to be a good idea, and it certainly was, considering you were too desperate to wait another day to ask him one of your questions.

Aoi would probably be upset if you didn’t ask the question he wanted to ask, so you figured you’d just get the next two keys easily, that way you could then start asking the questions that mattered to you.

Soon enough, you and Aoi were blazing into the corridor, key in your hand, ready to open the door. You undid the lock quickly, taking it out of the keyhole as you and Aoi slipped into Dohyon’s room once again, silently closing the large door behind you.

The room was lit up with the beaming moonlight, and Dohyon sat on the chair in the center of the room, exactly like he was yesterday. “I presume you got the first key?,” Dohyon asks, holding out his left hand, clearly indicating for you to give him the key.

You squeezed it in your hand, and exclaimed, “I’m not giving you this key until you answer my question.”

“Who and what are we even up against? What’s the point of even setting you free?”

~~

(Part 1)(Part 2)