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kaisacobra · 1 year ago

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Let You Go - Tara Carpenter

Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!

third part of Second Best

It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?

She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.

Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.

The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.

The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.

"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"

The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"

"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"

Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"

"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"

She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.

"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"

I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.

"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.

Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"

Broken, she wanted to say.

The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."

"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.

"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"

As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.

She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.

Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.

She was going to change. She had to change. For you.

"That was pretty good!"

The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.

"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.

That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.

It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."

"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.

You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.

It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.

Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?

Best Twin: Sam misses you

Best Twin: We all do

You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.

Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.

It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.

But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.

Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.

At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.

But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.

You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.

They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.

"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"

Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."

"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."

As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.

"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."

You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."

"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."

There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.

If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.

So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.

Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.

Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.

But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.

She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.

Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.

Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.

In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.

When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.

The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"

Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.

But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.

"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.

You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."

Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.

"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."

"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.

Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.

But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.

"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.

You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."

Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."

"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."

"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"

Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."

"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"

"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"

Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."

"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."

Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."

"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.

You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.

She wondered if that's what you two were now.

The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.

"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.

"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.

The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."

Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."

It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.

The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."

Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"

"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."

"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."

"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."

There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.

Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.

It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.

And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...

Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.

The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.

The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.

You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."

You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"

"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.

"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.

You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."

"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.

"Of course, I care, I love you!"

"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"

"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"

"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"

"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"

"Tara..."

"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"

"Tara..."

"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."

"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.

Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.

You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.

She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"

A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"

She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"

"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.

She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"

"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"

At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.

You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.

"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.

"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.

"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.

You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.

And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.

The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.

You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.

"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.

The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."

With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.

She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.

Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.

She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.

Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.

Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.

If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.

---

Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.

There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.

For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.

She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.

After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.

It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.

Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.

That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.

"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."

"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."

This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"

"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."

"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.

"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."

The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.

They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.

Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.

But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.

And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.

"Tara, who-"

"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.

"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.

"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.

"Tara..."

"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."

Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.

Someone much better than her.

Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.

For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...

Now it was time to let you go.

#scream #scream vi #scream 2022 #scream x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #scream imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter #Spotify

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citruswriter · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, sorry in advance - my English is VERY bad😭💔

have problems with blood pressure, which often makes me dizzy, and yesterday in the bathroom because of the pressure I lost consciousness and fell - my mother was very scared, and we waited another half hour for an ambulance🤣

(everything is fine, I got tangled in the bath curtain and it saved me my head from a concussion, but I sprained my neck, hit my nose and got bruises all over my body)

I would like to know how the bayverse tmnt(individually) reacted to the fact that there was a crash from the bathtub, the door was locked, and when they managed to open the door, their beloved was lying on the floor, her feet on the edge of the bathtub, and the girl herself was lying unconscious, confused in the bathroom curtain on the tile floor? 🤣

Will they scold the girl for her habit of locking doors, or will they wash her themselves after this event, idk

(please guys take care of yourselves especially if you have the same health issues as me 🙏)

Bayverse Turtles x Fainting Disorder Reader

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

A/N: Behold! The singular ask that survived the Tumblr askbox purge. It's ok dear! It took me a bit to decipher the ask but I think I've got the jist of it!

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Heart attack the first time you fainted. Warn a guy if you have a fainting disorder will ya?

Internally screamed while carrying you to Donnie to see if you need the hospital. Deep breath of relief to find out, no you don't.

Please tell him what you have and how to help. He's just one big ole softy and he loves you and wants to make sure you're safe and comfortable.

Scolds you every time you lock doors. He understands your wish for independence and privacy but either you leave the door unlocked or he breaks down the door. Your choice.

Can be a bit overbearing at times so don't be surprised if you need to have a talk with him at some point. Let him know you appreciate his effort but it's just a tad suffocating.

Probably knows your medical history like the back of his hand. Wants to know everything to be helpful so you've probably told him something about something at some point and now he has it all memorized.

Call him while at the doctor's office if you forget. He'll think it's amusing that you forgot your own medical history but will still happily tell you what you forgot. He enjoys feeling useful.

Constant stash of water and snacks in his room and kitchen specifically for you. If anybody else touches it, they are required "by law" to replace it or else they get ha'shi treatment.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Raphael x Reader 🧡

Literal panic attack the first time you faint around him. Screaming for Donnie and asking if you're gonna die.

Don't be surprised if he yells at you for not telling him. He's not trying to be mean, you just scared him is all. Just let him get it out and eventually he'll calm down and apologize for yelling before holding you in his arms.

This man ain't gonna remember shit about what ever the fuck you have. He'll remember the name and that it's a fainting disorder and that's probably it.

This man already has a water bottle stash but he happily lets you access it whenever you need to. Hydration is good!

Not afraid to break your door if you lock it. What if you faint face first into some liquid and then drown and die? Hm?! He loves you too much. You're not allowed to die. Leave the damn door unlocked.

Another turtle you might have to sit down with and have a "I appreciate your effort but you're suffocating me" talk with.

Probably has a note on his notes app labeled "Tiny's Medical Shit" with some basic information on your disorder and how to help with dizzy and fainting spells.

His room looks like it's absolutely baby proofed with the caps he puts on sharp corners and with all the pillows and blankets on his floor but really he's just doing his best to keep you safe and injury free.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Donatello x Reader 🧡

Worried the first time you faint around him but not all panicky like Leo or Raph. He might softly scold you for not telling him about your fainting disorder though.

Faint proofs his lab. He wants his baby in his lab with him but that wasn't exactly possible for awhile so he had to faint proof his while fucking lab. Please praise him for it, he desperately needs the validation.

As soon as he knows you have a fainting disorder, he looks up what it is and suddenly knows more about it than even you do. POTS, narcolepsy, it doesn't matter. He knows more than you now.

Will love you for eternity if you call him while at a doctor's because you forgot something about your own medical history or just don't know the answer.

"Hey Donnie?" "Yes dove?" "How many times would you say I've fainted in the past month?" "Twenty-seven. I have it all documented. Why? You at the doctor?" "Yeah. Figured if anybody knew the answer to that question, it would be you." "Well you were correct. I love you, dove." "I love you too, my love. See you tonight."

He doesn't care if you lock doors. This man knows how to pick a lock in twenty different ways. He also knows that, if push comes to shove, he can easily just break the damn door down.

Lots of water and snackies for you in his lab. Nobody tries to steal from your stash. Mikey tried once and had to deal with scary Don for few solid minutes. They know better now, lest they incur the wrath of Scary Dontron.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Michaelangelo x Reader 🧡

Surprisingly chill the first time you faint around him??? Like why the fuck is he so calm???

He does his best to study up on your disorder but, much like Raph, he knows what it's called and that's about it.

Has a "fainting spot" for you in his room that's essentially just a nook in his room with extra fluffy blankets and pillows with a basket of water and snacks within reach. Whenever you faint, he places you there and stays close by until you're awake and conscious.

Doesn't worry too much about locked doors. He'd prefer if you don't but he understands that he can easily bust the door down if needed.

If you're clingy after a fainting spell, this man is gonna eat it up. Need him to hold you? Course baby, come here. Need some kisses? Who is he to deny you? Need some head rubs while you bury yourself into his arms? Why it would be criminal to deny you!

He isn't the best at keeping up with all the fun facts about your disorder but he's surprisingly fantastic about tracking your fainting spells. Like, it's Donnie level tracking. He may not know the ins and outs of your disorder like Don would but he can indeed tell you that you've fainted three times this week.

Will chirp if you call him at the doctors. He can't promise he'll know the answer to your question but the fact that you thought of him and called him still warms his heart. Prepare for him to cuddle and scent you when you get home if you do this.

I'm so sorry for not writing guys. I've been in Ao3's embrace for the past few days. 🤭😂

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bonefall · 3 months ago

Note

ShadowClan has three random kittens that are literally just an invention of Su Susann that the family tree canonized. Quietkit, Rubblekit, and Turetlekit as the children of Ashheart and Cinderfur. I know you already included them to your old family tree as dead kits, but I've always liked their names too much to just let them be family tree randos. They offer some nice presence for tpb/to as they're probably around the Frostfour's age

These ones won't even be Glitch Warriors, I consider them "Kit Saves" in the sense that they do appear in the book but died young! Though they did get names from Su Susann, they are textually referenced in the opening of TPB: Rising Storm.

An owl swoops and attacks Nightstar's den, and we get this;

The "silver queen" here is said to be Ashheart. There's no one else it could be, anyway-- ShadowClan only has one silver molly during TPB, unless Yellowfang's mentor Deerleap is out here refusing to die, or one of the silver toms is doing a Rowanclaw. The father is said to be Cinderfur, but it could really be anyone.

(there's also this bizarre thing where there's like, 2 or 3 unnamed silver tabby warriors who keep appearing in background scenes. Are Wolfstep, Flintfang, and Boulder just painting stripes on themselves sometimes? Is Archeye forgetting he's an elder?)

So, their lives were short, but these three kits were absolutely canon. Since future material would definitely pull their names from the website, I'm comfortable saying Quiet, Turtle, and Rubble are as good as real.

I also happen to quite like their names, ngl, I've got a few fun little plans for them in BB;

Their warrior names are Rubbleflower, Turtlebelly, and Quietnose.

Blackstar's "naming tendency" is that he likes to give somewhat rude names. It's a very ShadowClan sort of thing to do.

Rubbleflower means "Flower struggling to grow out of a mess," Turtlebelly means "Always hungry," and Quietnose means "don't sneeze."

In terms of BB familial changes, I want to make Cinderfur NOT be Stumpytail's brother, and instead make him Ashheart's littermate.

My thought is that they were born to Cinderfur under Queen's Rights, but when he died in Runningnose's Plague, Ashheart adopted them and Stumptail stepped in to help.

(Stumptail was also targeted by Runningnose's plan, as one of Deerfoot's Rebels. He got sick but survived, eventually helping HalfClan cats escape TigerClan.)

I haven't entirely figured out Rubble's and Quiet's personalities yet, but Turtlebelly is going to become the Head of Kitchen Patrol shortly into Po3.

She's getting a secondary apprenticeship under Hammerclaw (im making her real), or Hammer's kid Wishbone, depending on how the timeline shakes out.

I'm not sure how long her tenure is going to last, though. She's going to get through Blackstar's lapse in faith, the Battle of the Truth Eclipse, and possibly Yellowcough, but Darktail and The Kin might do her in. They'll be doing a general purge of high-ranking ShadowClan cats, such as the old Educator, Smokefall.

But she CAN cook, so they might end up keeping her around.

In any case, Turtlebelly is going to be replaced as Kitchen Head by BB!ASC. Either violently, or by retiring.

Rubble and Quiet will probably be the ones to have kittens, in her family. She doesn't dislike kids or anything, she's just not enthusiastic about them. Prefers to be the cool aunt.

Speaking of-- Rubbleflower is the only boy. Quiet and Turtle are mollies.

Open to input on Quiet and Rubble in particular. I like how Rubblekit's wiki sprite is weirdly green, I'm trying to find some kind of fun way to work that into his personality somehow. Maybe he's one of the big brains behind Blackstar's Bog Project.

Look at this green ass cat

#BB!Quietkit #BB!Rubblekit #BB!Turtlekit #Rubbleflower #Turtlebelly #Quietnose #I had an older name for Quiet but I thought of this one and it's infinitely more fitting for what kinda namer BB!Blackstar is lmaoo #Better Bones AU

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destinysbounty · 1 year ago

Text

Ever since Crystalized came out, there's been this theory circulating that the reason the Overlord somehow managed to manifest crystal power seemingly out of nowhere and with no explanation (at least, none that I can find/remember), is because his fight with Zane affected his power in some way.

The main evidence for this is that:

Zane was the last person to fight the Overlord

Ice is technically a crystalline structure, depending on how it's formed, and Zane is the master of ice

When Harumi was first resurrected, she found the Overlord's spirit imbued into a purple crystal

As evidenced by past seasons, the Overlord's power seems to be influenced by his circumstances and environment in the wake of his last defeat. During Rebooted, a tech center was built over his resting place, and he ended up taking on the abilities and limitations of a computer virus. And in this case, the theory suggests that the Overlord's power was then influenced again by all the ice surrounding him as Zane destroyed both of their physical forms.

This does, to some extent, seem to fall in line with everything else we know about the Overlord. The Overlord is a being of shadow and darkness, and the shape of a shadow will always be influenced by the light around it. (And if we want to get into the theory that the Overlord was created as a result of the FSM trying to purge the oni blood from his veins, then you could even bring up the fact that the oni are shapeshifters sooo).

Now, I'll be the first to admit that this theory is ultimately pretty circumstantial, and there's nothing in canon to point to it being explicitly true. BUT, the cool thing about this theory is that it does also retroactively solve another big fandom mystery: that is, it explains how Zane survived his fight with the Overlord.

Let me explain.

When Zane came back to life after his fight with the Digital Overlord, while it was never outright explained how he did so, it was implied that he came back the same way the Overlord had: by spiritually manifesting within the systems at Borg Tower - specifically, the Digiverse. But that doesn't really answer the question, does it?

Like, the Overlord coming back as a spiritual manifestation makes sense. He's a regenerative being, an immortal abstraction of all the evil in the world. And Zane, as far as we know, is very much not that. So what could have happened to cause Zane, a nindroid, to end up being resurrected in the same way as the god of darkness? Why did he come back to life, instead of passing onto the afterlife? Even Lloyd, the special-est boy in all Ninjago, made a quick visit to the Departed Realm and only came back because the FSM said he could.

And true, it's certainly possible that Zane had a similar encounter with the FSM. Or that his power source is responsible for his resurrection, and just as we may never know how his power source works he may also never know how it brought him back to life. Those are all very possible solutions, and you're welcome to just accept those ideas and move one.

But if you're like me and you don't find those answers particularly satisfying, here's another possibility:

Just as Zane's power has influenced the Overlord, the Overlord's power has influenced Zane. In the explosion of Golden Power that caused both of them to be destroyed in unison, their souls became intertwined. So yes, Zane was meant to die. And judging by his account of the situation in Decoded, he did die. And maybe a peaceful afterlife was well within arm's reach, maybe he was just about to grab the FSM's hand...but then something pulled him back. His soul, chained to the Overlord's dark power, dragged him to the land of the living once more.

And if you really want to get into it, then you could even theorize that this connection ended up influencing Zane's power as well. During the Ice Chapter he was capable of turning people into ice samurai zombie-things kept under his control, as well as creating ice constructs like Boreal. These are not abilities that have been established in the ice power-set, nor are they logical powers for an ice elemental to have. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but the Forbidden Scroll doesn't give you new powers, it just enhances and turbo-boosts what you already have. Which is why it did nothing when Kai held it, as his power had been stolen from him at the time.

(Now before you ask why Pixal could use the Scroll despite seeminlgy not having any powers, there are very subtle implications that she had developed a very, very minor sixth sense due to her inheriting some of Zane's power. If anyone wants me to explain that in greater detail, I'd be more than happy to.)

And yes, Aspheera is also capable of creating elemental zombie/mummy things and other such constructs, but she did all that before she found the Scroll. This is a power-set she had by virtue of her being a powerful sorcerer, not something granted by wielding the Scroll.

And yet somehow, the Scroll did seem to give Zane these powers. Powers that so far have only been exhibited by two people in the series: Aspheera, and the Overlord. So if we submit to the theory that Zane and the Overlord's fight have caused their powers to mix a little, and the Scroll magnifies your power....well, it suddenly becomes very possible that the Scroll amplified some of the dark energy he inherited from the Overlord and awakened some of the Ice Emperor's more unique abilities.

And if that's true, then that really just kinda makes the whole Ice Emperor sting that much more. All of the good things Zane has done, all of his biggest sacrifices, all led to this moment. To him becoming the Ice Emperor.

I dunno. It's just something to think about.

#ninjago #ns3 #ns15 #ninjago rebooted #ninjago crystalized #ninjago overlord #zane julien #destiny post

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meownotgood · 4 months ago

Text

let us live, if we must die. / chapter four: scarlet wings

You are a witch, and since the purging of all magic, you've been forced to live a life of solitude and secrecy. Your destiny was always beyond your control — until, by a pure twist of fate, you unknowingly fell for the kingdom's only prince.

════════════════════

pairing: prince!aki x witch!reader

word count: 14.6k

tags: fantasy au, royalty au, reader is fem, some very small mentions of violence, aki is getting better at flirting, way too many metaphors, two idiots who don't realize they're obvious being totally obvious

notes: this chapter is my favorite so far... I hope you'll enjoy it... thank you for your kindness and your patience as always! the next chapter may take a bit because I have some other writing plans for october, but I promise to return again soon :)

masterlist read on ao3 join the taglist here!

════════════════════

soft sky, bleeding sun

I'll cradle your fear until

the clouds make it theirs

—

Growing up in the kingdom taught you to fear the color red.

Red was a staple of the seals worn by the knights and soldiers — the men you needed to be wary of, in order to survive. It symbolizes power, fear, violence. Red served as a reminder of the empire's scarlet, mage-seeking birds, of the crimson blood that would spill after every war, each brutal execution.

The same sort of bird rests in your palms now.

Kneeling, you sit in the center of a clearing, damp dirt and blades of grass tickling your bare knees, the forest's trees whispering in the faint, post-storm breeze. The air is cool and humid; it tickles the back of your neck, making the hair on your arms stand on end. The sky is obscured by a canopy of trees, and by knots of thick, dark clouds. Rain will fall again soon, most likely. You should head home. Yet, you can't seem to move. Your gaze won't tear itself away from the small, red-feathered bird you have held in both your palms.

A scarlet songbird. They're harmless, although quite rare to find in this area. Your books have told you they used to be much more prevalent, native to almost every area with the right weather conditions. Since the kingdom tamed them, they've mostly been captured — sometimes hunted. It's unlikely to find them in a place like this, departed from captivity. To the kingdom, the songbird's affinity for seeking out magical traces is too valuable to let roam free.

A particular book you read on local wildlife noted how the birds like to nab magical items to decorate their nests. They were trained to spot mages for the kingdom's benefit, to follow the traces left by spells and trail them to their source. Normally, they are timid, and try to avoid predators whenever possible. The kingdom turned them into hunters themselves.

Though, in this forest, they are finally free. From danger and captivity, from the kingdom's everlasting grasp. And so are you.

This one has seen better days. The bird's tiny body barely dwarfs one of your palms: a juvenile, most likely. It can't be more than a few months old. Most of its right wing appears to be damaged, with clusters of feathers missing, exposing a deep, fresh injury. Its breathing quickens, causing its body to shake. You brush your thumb over the bird's head, and it coos quietly in response, nuzzling further into your hand.

"What's up? Why are we stopping?"

Aki's voice rouses you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him curiously peering over your shoulder, leaning down, his hands on his knees.

Aki reminds you of the color blue. Like the sparkle of royal sapphires, with the same sort of gleam reflected in his eyes. Like the colored sketches of the sea you've memorized from your books, and longed to one day see for yourself.

A handful of days ago, he brought you a bundle of bright blue peonies, which he found near the edge of the clearing surrounding your cottage. You placed some into a vase on the dining room table, and took the rest with you to have in your bedroom. Your eyes caught on their vibrant petals each and every time you entered. Since you first met and came to know Aki, you've never noticed so much blue. The blue of the sky, the blue of the river, the blue of butterfly wings and puffy flowers and shimmering stars.

Aki is blue; he's become synonymous with the word. With the blue of veins, instead of the ache that comes with flashes of bright, red blood.

You sigh slightly, glancing away from him, and back to the bird.

"Her wing is busted," You explain simply, clear frustration present in your voice, in the way your brows slightly pinch. "I doubt she'll be able to fly again."

Aki's eyes narrow. "A magehunter bird," He muses, "I didn't know you could find them this far out."

"There's plenty in the forest, they just like to keep themselves hidden," You reply with a shrug, your voice remaining soft and low, to avoid startling the small songbird. "I think they avoid the cottage, mostly. They don't like people."

Your words are a half-truth; before Aki, you'd often spot the birds gathering close to your home. Perching in the trees and sometimes on the roof, singing their little pleasant songs, or pecking at the mushrooms that encircle the clearing, just to flutter away when you got too close. With the addition of your new guest, and with the lack of spells you've been casting lately, they've been reluctant to continue hanging around.

The bird in your palms, however, is completely pliant. She doesn't even attempt to peck at your fingers or flap her injured wing. Her sharp breathing would lead you to believe she's still fearful, but she lacks the energy to fight or run, to do anything but timidly watch you, and hope you aren't a threat to a creature who is already dying.

It makes your heart ache, truly.

Aki examines the sudden strain in your expression. He hums in thought, and he kneels down to sit by your side; the bird shudders, drawing its wings close to its body. Almost as if it's trying to shrink away.

"You're fond of birds, aren't you?" Aki says calmly.

You huff a playful breath, and reply with a lilt of intrigued half-sarcasm, "How could you tell?"

"I kind of guessed, with all those wood sculptures," He answers, taking the question completely seriously. You think back to your living room, to the shelf of wooden birds you've hand-made, and although you're already pre-planning your rebuttal — it was just to pass the time, that's all — Aki seems to see right through you.

"I figured you liked animals, but birds were probably your favorite." He brushes a palm over the back of his neck awkwardly. His hair is up and out of his face, but his bangs still fall in front of his eyes as he tilts his head. "When I saw all those little sculptures, I thought it was… I don't know. Sort of cute."

His compliment makes you freeze up slightly, your face burning with warmth. You should be used to this, considering how open Aki has swiftly become, especially in the past few days. Still, as though it's simply effortless, he always manages to make you feel flustered.

A thin droplet of rain plops onto your arm. You shiver. The air carries the scent of a coming storm; it has your heart feeling heavy, reminding you of the day you first met him. It hasn't stormed like this since then. This time though, you won't have to return to your cottage alone.

Aki glances at you, then to the bird in your palms. "Should we take her with us?"

You know it's unlikely for the bird to survive, even if you brought it home and attempted to nurse it back to health. If it cannot fly, if it can't regain strength and let its wing heal, it'll be doomed.

And what about you? Unless the birds are trained to sniff out mages, they aren't typically a threat, but it could be drawn to the magical items you have hidden in your cabin. Aki must know their purpose better than anyone — he's from the kingdom, after all. It could give you away, if you aren't careful. The logical side of you says you should leave the bird behind, regardless of what your heart might believe.

But since you met Aki, when have you ever done what you should do?

Rising to your feet, you cup one palm over the other to shield the bird from the falling raindrops. Aki follows, standing back up in turn. Your cottage won't take long to return to. The bird's wound will need to be tended to immediately, before you start preparing dinner. It'll be thirsty and hungry. You're sure you can root around and find something to feed it.

It's settled, then.

You're smiling on the way back home, and when Aki asks you why, you tell him it's nothing, instead of admitting the truth — that you find it amusing, to have already picked up another poor thing to nurse back to health. Another him. You can't catch a break, can you?

—

With each passing, precious day, trying not to become too friendly with your new cabin-mate has been steadily becoming more and more difficult. Impossible, even. Honestly, perhaps that plan was always doomed to fail.

Aki is easy to talk to, and conversations between you flow like a river's calm stream — despite your inexperience when it comes to such discussions. Part of you worried things might become awkward after the night he comforted you, but surprisingly, nothing seems to change. Aki doesn't bring it up, nor does he act any differently. It's as though you've been friends for years, not weeks. It's nice, actually.

Your days are spent gathering ingredients and herbs from the forest, leaving early in the morning to avoid crossing paths with any devils. While your nights are spent relaxing, talking, and eating together. He's learned to make plenty of meals with your assistance. Aki swears he'll remember how to prepare them for his next adventures, should he find himself in a forest like this one.

Your greatest hurdle, at first, was getting used to his presence within the magic circle; a constant source of energy, wavering between the sensitive threads of the spell you've learned to constantly maintain.

It felt — he felt — like a persistent coolness on your skin, a knot within you that couldn't be untangled. A rift in your heart, and in your mind. Now, the ripples surging through your spell hardly bother you. They're comforting, even. Aki's presence, formed by the inner shape of his soul's mana, is calm. Deep like the ocean, frozen over like ice.

Aki is tidy, but his corner of the living room quickly begins to flourish with his belongings. His cot is always made neatly, the pillows straightened.

Books are stacked up beside the cot: various stories he's borrowed from your collection, based on your recommendations. His notebook and the jar of ink you prepared for him are set precariously on top of the stack, a bookmark poking out from the pages. Crafted from a thin strip of wood and one of the songbird's stray crimson feathers, you made the bookmark and gifted it to him.

After Aki's wound stopped bothering him — for the most part — he suddenly forgot all of your previous instructions to rest.

He does relax somewhat, when it's at your request. As his health improves, so does his level of energy. He usually stays up reading when he can't sleep — which is often, you've noticed. And as you've come to learn, Aki is a fountain of energy, and he can hardly stand to be cooped up for long.

You blamed it on the elf in him, initially. The points in his ears don't lie.

Truthfully, you haven't interacted with many elves. They were quite a rare sight in the kingdom. They're known to be on the curious side, requiring little amounts of sleep. Either way, they tend to prefer spending as much of their time as they can on their own pursuits. Novels usually paint elves as cold and stern, often taking up leadership positions because of their intelligence and status, but Aki differs from most of those stereotypes. He isn't cold towards you, anyways.

He reminds you more of a playful side, like the nature-loving elves in adventure stories. The sort of person who gets themselves into all sorts of trouble with their unbound knack for adventure.

Recently, Aki has been promising he'll stay still for a while and lie down, but once you return to the cottage, supplies in hand, he's nowhere to be found.

The first time it happened, you panicked. You felt even more anxious when you couldn't find him outside. The darker parts of your mind decided to spin some story where Aki returns with knights to apprehend you, and an army to face you.

Yet each and every time, he'd return alone.

Sometimes covered in dirt, apologizing for his absence as he interrupts your dinner preparations, dropping a palm-full of the songbird's favorite berries on the counter. We were running out, he explains guiltily, glancing away at the sight of your pout. He's already expecting you to scold him. For acting recklessly, for possibly putting himself in danger. It took me a bit to find them. Sorry if I worried you. I won't get lost next time.

In other cases, he'd return much sooner. He's a sweaty mess as he swings open the front door, slightly out of breath. He runs a hand through his hair to push it back. I was exploring, lost track of time, he says, through ragged gasps. I ran home when I realized how late it was. Got some exercise, at least.

You believe him, because why wouldn't you? Aki is kind and polite, perhaps too much so. He has always been honest. About most things, at least. He's charming, in a way. Though, you'd never admit those things to his face. You have a hard enough time admitting them to yourself.

Aki radiates this strong, fiery sense of warmth that perfectly contrasts the sensation of his aura: cool, deep, and still. A glittering sun on the surface, and a somber moon within. It's incredibly, addictively intriguing.

At this point, you've known him longer than anyone, besides your own family. His presence in your cottage has begun to feel natural. And yet, you feel as though you haven't even scratched his surface.

Nevertheless, the days continue to pass — although they definitely feel faster than normal. Your time with your elven, secretly royal guest slips by effortlessly. Most of Aki's depth continues to remain hidden, but your talks together become longer, your moments shared are always treasured.

And between the gaps in your usual routine, you continue caring for the poor scarlet bird.

Turns out, Aki might be more fond of the little thing than you are. It's endearing, to see him frequently check up on her. He helps you out with her care whenever he can.

The two of you prepared a small area for the bird together, creating a makeshift nest near the fireplace with moss, leaves, and the leather scrap that remained of Aki's old bag. You gathered some seeds and berries, and you placed them close, along with a shallow bowl of water. She was lethargic at first, but thankfully, once the sun rose, the bird began to move and eat. Since then, she's been recovering gradually. You've woken up earlier than usual a few times already, roused by the sound of her pleasant chirping.

That's a good sign, at least. Even if she can't fly yet.

Today, you and Aki rarely separated. You spent most of the morning away from the cottage, and most of the afternoon outside, on the outskirts of the clearing. You've been attempting to grow a garden there, and it needs to be tended to. Hopefully, you'll have your own berry bushes once they're in season next year. It'll make gathering them for dishes much simpler. Aki learns the process quickly, and he has no problem helping you pull weeds and treat the soil.

Once the sun finally began to lower, the trees obscuring its fading glow, the sky hued in bright shades of orange, you both headed back inside, and followed the same routine you've built up over the past few days.

You sit near the fireplace, Aki close beside you. The both of you enjoy the fire's steady, flickering warmth. Today was hot, but the night has grown cold. Dinner was simple to prepare, as was the process of cleaning up, especially with Aki's help. You watch the bird take careful breaths as it draws its wings close, settles into its nest, and closes its eyes.

Cross-legged, you rest your elbows on your knees, and your chin in your hands. Aki leans back, getting comfortable; he glances between you and the fire, the same way he does when he obviously has something to say. Firelight frames his face warmly, his handsome features lit in bright hues, his long, dark hair gently brushing his shoulders.

You'll speak first, if he won't.

"How are you liking the book I lent you?" You're inquiring, your head tilting slightly with your question.

Aki raises a brow. He brings his glass to his lips, and takes a sip of the cherry-red homemade wine. It's more like juice, really. The combination of berries make it sweet and refreshing. Considering the limited resources you have in the forest, it's one of your most impressive recipes.

He sets his glass back down on the floor when he's finished, right next to yours.

"It's good," Aki replies simply, his tone completely earnest. "I'm about halfway through."

Recently, he's been reading one of the many books you recommended to him, usually making progress after you've gone to bed, when he can't sleep. You specifically chose something you thought he would like: an adventure book, about a traveler following his father's old treasure map. The story is carefree and whimsical. You'd hoped Aki might sleep if he read a book before bed, but when he gets terribly engrossed, it just seems to keep him up for even longer.

He reminds you of yourself.

"Are you at the part where he gets to the waterfall?" You ask, recalling the last time you read that particular novel. You've read everything in your collection hundreds of times, but it's been a few months.

"With the sirens?" Aki answers, placing his hands in his lap.

"Yeah," You hum, a stupid grin tugging at your cheeks. Your gaze sparkles, and you hardly attempt to keep it at bay. "With the sirens."

You aren't sure what makes you happier. The fact that Aki is genuinely reading and enjoying the book you chose, knowing he's currently reaching one of your favorite parts in the story, or the pleasant spark you get in your chest when you imagine talking about it with him once he's finished, finally being able to share something you love.

All of those feelings are lovely enough to keep, but nothing compares to the warmth you're drowned in as Aki flashes you a quick, gentle smile.

"You better not spoil what happens," He murmurs through a small laugh, "You've gotten me invested."

"I would never, I promise." You raise your hands in the air innocently. Dammit, his smile is so contagious. "We probably shouldn't talk about it until you're done, just in case. You've gotta finish all of it. The ending is the best part, for sure."

"What about your book?" Aki asks; his gaze stays on you, as he watches you take a quick sip of your wine. "Have you finished it yet?"

You swirl the contents of your glass. "The Holy Knight? Yeah, I finished it yesterday."

"Did you like it? Or, I suppose you said you've already read it, right?" Aki corrects. "How does it compare to the last time you read it?"

Thinking to yourself, you breathe a soft hmm, and tap your index finger idly against your cheek.

"It was good. I mean, I enjoy the whole story no matter how many times I've read it. The ending always makes me tear up."

You recall the final chapter, the book's somber ending. At the very end, the knight saves the land, and as the curse is lifted, flowers and trees finally begin to grow. He inherits the kingdom, he is surrounded by wealth and beauty. But even after becoming king and marrying his love, he isn't satisfied with his accomplishments. In one final battle, the knight sacrifices himself to save the princess. He departs from her with an embrace, and then kisses her hand, her cheek, and finally…

Aki's smooth voice breaks you out of your haze. "My brother owned that one. I've read parts of it to him before, countless times. Though I can't remember if we ever wound up finishing it."

"Maybe that's for the best. It's kind of a sad ending."

You shrug, your gaze drifting away from him, and back towards the fireplace, flames flickering and wavering. The small scarlet bird rests in her nest. She appears to be sleeping, her eyes closed and her head tucked close to her patchy wing. You adjust your position, sitting with your knees drawn up, your arms around them. The living room smells like the fireplace's crisp ashes, mixed with the lingering sweet scent of crushed berries and juice.

For some odd reason — or perhaps there isn't one — you change the subject to abruptly state, "The knight in that story. He reminds me of you."

Aki's eyes grow slightly wider. Then, he lets go of an amused huff, he points to himself with his thumb; "Me? Honestly, I haven't read that story in a long time. I think you'll have to explain."

He's glancing at you now, back straightened, pointed ears slightly perked up.

"Uhm, it's like-" You shake your head, trying not to stutter. "It's just with how he is around the princess, you know? You remember the scene where Vincent meets Edith, right? Before she gets captured?"

Aki's brows furrow, as though he's trying to remember. "Vaguely."

"Where Edith says she hates him, and swears they'll never marry, even if the entire kingdom was at stake. But Vincent vows he'll win her heart?"

"Ah. Well-" Reaching for his drink, Aki tilts his head back to take a good long sip. His warm, confident gaze meets yours. "I don't think I've won anything yet."

When you promptly elbow him, he offers you a slight, almost nervous grin. Thankfully, he gives your heart a bit of reprieve, glancing away to carefully set his drink back down.

"Not like that," You're scoffing, shuffling with embarrassment. You drop your knees to place your hands in your lap and fiddle with your thumbs. "It was just… with how he's so nice to her, and then their dialogue changes so much as they grow closer-" You shake your head. "Ugh. Nevermind."

"No, no. I'm listening." Aki peers at you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease you. I understand what you mean. We are similar."

Too similar. You're starting to wish you hadn't spoken, or even made the connection, because you can no longer stop yourself from picturing the novel's scenes with you in place of the princess — and of course, with Aki in place of the knight.

You imagine Aki hugging you close, his strong, safe arms around you, before he pulls back to kiss your hand, soft lips delicately brushing your knuckles. You think of Aki sweeping you into his arms to carry you away from danger. Aki reassuring you on late nights spent in one another's bed chambers that he wouldn't leave you, not even if the world deemed it so. Aki offering you his sword, so you can tap it to his shoulder as he says his vows, those pretty blue eyes on yours, his smooth voice echoing through your dizzy thoughts.

Miss Edith, I do swear for as long as I draw breath to never allow my fealty to waver. I do swear to offer my life for yours, and my heart for you to bear. If I am to fall, you will be my final thought, as you are my first and last dream before sleep, my love.

You've memorized so many lines from that damn book, and paired with how vividly you can picture Aki's voice, your mind is practically whirling.

You shake your head firmly, and give your flushed cheeks a couple light slaps. Aki cocks a brow, and casually leans closer as he glances at you, hoping to catch your eyes once more.

"Are you alright?" He murmurs, his soft tone not-so different from the one you were imagining, "Don't force yourself to stay awake if you're getting tired."

"Oh," You blink, and try your best to meet his gaze without looking away. Without picturing one of your favorite scenes from the book, a moment not too different from this one. The knight and the princess are in her quarters, sipping wine from fancy goblets. Suddenly, the princess suggests she's been hiding her true feelings all along, she believes she's fallen for him, and then —

"Yeah, I'm a bit tired," You mutter, clearing your throat. The fireplace is suddenly interesting enough to catch your eyes and keep them there.

Aki waits a moment, before he gathers both of your nearly-empty glasses, and reaches forward to set them on the edge of the fireplace, placing them out of the way.

All of those moments, those scenes, those dreams, often felt as though they'd be impossible. They are just fiction. Books to get drawn into, to take you somewhere far away from here, and nothing more. Because in your heart, you know those stories were never written with you in mind. Magic and mages would often be portrayed as what people thought of them — as the evil force the heroes needed to combat, as the villians that were meant to be vanquished. You accepted them for what they were, and accepted your loneliness. You had no other choice.

Perhaps you should start dreaming again. Perhaps this new dream, the one Aki has begun to lead you into, will pave a path to a warm, blossoming future. As long as you are willing to finally let yourself trust.

"You should get some rest," Aki encourages, his tone kept low. He gestures to the bird with a flicker of his gaze and a tilt of his head. "I'll keep an eye on her."

As if led by his instruction, you promptly stretch your arms up, and struggle to form an answer through a long yawn. "Alright."

Aki awkwardly rolls his shoulders back. He gnaws on his bottom lip, and avoids meeting your eyes as he rubs the tension from his own hands, squeezing his palms, flexing his fingers.

"There was… something I wanted to do," He begins, "But I wasn't sure if I should propose it."

"Huh?" You question, "Why?"

"I thought it might upset you."

Knowing Aki, it surely wouldn't. You don't hesitate, and barely fault your budding curiosity.

"Show me. And if I don't like it, I'll tell you." Your gaze on his is sure, unwavering. You reflect sparks of fierce firelight. "I'm okay with giving anything a chance, as long as it's with you."

Aki looks away, swallowing. He seems nervous, in a certain endearing way, in a way you're sure you haven't seen from him yet; he shifts uncomfortably, his palms already sweaty. Finally, he sighs, and forces himself to not only meet your eyes, but to get the words out.

"Do you remember this one scene from the middle of The Holy Knight? When they're-" He cringes, his teeth gritting. "Riding in the back of a carriage?"

Vincent and Edith had just finished tending to affairs at a fancy dinner party. The chapter leaves out most of the details, but describes them as they traveled back to the castle. They sat together in a fancy horse-drawn carriage, and as Edith's weary eyes began to droop, Vincent guided her to rest against his shoulder.

Oh. You don't answer, but you're sure you've made your realization obvious by the look on your face.

You watch him curiously as Aki takes a deep, motivating breath. He doesn't meet your eyes, but he does begin to shift a bit closer. He ever-so slowly and ever-so tentatively places his arm around you, barely touching. You follow the rest of the way, as he guides you to carefully lean your head against his shoulder.

It's stiff, a bit cumbersome. Your cheek doesn't quite rest perfectly on the bony, hard edge of his shoulder. You have to lean over a bit too much for this to be truly comfortable, and Aki is surely sitting way too straight, clearly still awkward.

But honestly, it's perfect. It's authentic, it's warm — and when you steal a glance up at him, his pretty expression makes it all worth it. Aki is smiling. He's flustered, perhaps more than you. You doubt the light from the fireplace is all that's flushing his skin in shades of red and pink.

You smirk, and nuzzle further into his shoulder, finally closing your eyes.

"Awfully bold of you," You're murmuring in a tired tone, trying your best to mimic the fancy cadence of the princess' line from the novel.

Aki shrugs. "It's probably the wine."

It isn't, it's fruit juice you've been calling wine, but your fuzzy thoughts begin to fade away as the fire warms you, and as Aki's faint touch comforts you — his arm around you, his palm brushing from your shoulder to your back — guiding your mind to drift off into a quiet, gentle slumber.

—

When the night sky meets the trees, the moon illuminating the clearing's whispering blades of grass, and the stars shimmering with their own faint promises, you find your favorite space to be alone.

It's been a few weeks since Aki first began staying with you, and a few days since you first took the bird in. Tonight, the foggy air that settles on your skin is cool and crisp. The forest is calm and quiet, save for the sounds of rustling trees and cooing cicadas. You sit in the clearing just in front of your cottage, cross-legged, gazing up at the brilliant canopy illuminating the surrounding darkness.

This was your usual routine, before Aki. You would spend each night looking up at the stars, when it was far too late for anything to disturb you. The night often gave you peace. It allowed you to think. When it was just you and the crickets and the wind, and the smell of the dirt and the trees, you felt as though you could finally breathe.

Inhaling slowly, and then exhaling carefully, you let the night's cool air fill your lungs. Wind brushes across you ever-so faintly. At first, while Aki was resting, you took every opportunity, slipping away to enjoy this whenever you could. When your mind was racing and you just couldn't sleep, the lonesome silence helped to calm your worries. This time, it isn't helping much.

Your mind has been a mess all day today, and the day before that. Perhaps it has never truly untangled. All the usual worries you've had about Aki and the kingdom and the future have been piling up, filling your head with no way to discard them. Quietness helps you think, but you don't want to think; you've been lost in your thoughts for way too long.

Nothing works. It's a lost cause, clearly. You sigh to yourself.

The best you can do is try to relax out here for a while, underneath the pale moon, and hope your mind eventually tires itself out enough to let you sleep.

Though, the night has other plans for you.

The cottage door opens from behind you with a wooden creak, and you swiftly turn around. Aki carefully closes the door behind him. He gives you a soft, acknowledging smile when your eyes meet, before he walks down the stairs of the front porch, and comes to sit beside you. He matches you, crossing his legs; faint breaths of wind rustle his crisp white tunic and flutter through the long, dark strands of his hair.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Aki asks smoothly, and you quickly shake your head.

"No, no. It's fine. You can stay." Your gaze travels back to the glittering stars, as they watch over the both of you with distant admiration. "I'd like it if you stayed, actually."

So, Aki does.

He folds his hands in his lap, and falls into silence alongside you. Once again, you are no longer alone. He stays while you stare absently at the moon and the sky, continuing to think to yourself. He stays when the night seems to grow colder, the breeze nipping at your arms and the back of your neck, your eyes heavy, while your heart keeps thudding in your chest.

Finally, you let go of a small sigh in frustration. It doesn't go unnoticed; Aki's gaze flickers back to you. In the corner of your vision, you can see him eyeing you up and down, carefully considering, calmly examining.

"Are you alright?" He asks, far too gently. "It's pretty late for you to still be awake."

You shake your head. You glance down, focused on your hands and the shadowy blades of grass tickling your knees. "I can't sleep."

"Why's that? Are you cold?" Aki's brow raises as he notes your small shivers. "I can move, if you want to be by the fireplace. I'll sleep on the floor or something."

"I'm not that cold." You rub your goosebump-filled arms with your palms, somewhat contradicting your words. "I've just been thinking. Thinking too much, probably. That's all."

Aki quiets. He runs a hand through his hair to push it from his face, he idly taps his finger against his knee.

Suddenly, thinking becomes so much more difficult. It always is, whenever he's around. Yet, this is a welcome change. The night feels warmer with him near. His presence alone helps your mind find its footing. You can breathe, but you didn't need the night to teach you — you just needed him.

Foolish, isn't it?

A few moments tick by. Your thoughts drift to lighter subjects. Dreams and soft hopes. He waits for you to speak, never pressing, never pulling. And so, you do.

"I've always liked how bright the stars are out here," You murmur, almost talking to yourself, with your gaze still caught on the sparkling array in the sky. "They shine brighter where the forest is darkest. Almost like they know there's someone out there who might need them to light their way home."

On your first night alone, when you escaped from the kingdom, when you ran as deep into the forest as your tired legs could take you, with only some books in your pack and a demon-warding amulet around your neck, the stars were there. They lit your path through the trees and into the clearing. Hundreds upon thousands of steady glowing lights watched over you when you collapsed, and they made sure to look after your rest until morning.

Aki listens intently. He looks only at you. When you're content like this, staring at the sky, your pretty gaze seems to sparkle, too.

"They're gorgeous. It gets harder to see them the closer you get to the city," He says. "In the kingdom, we have this phrase about stars. It's quite famous. I'm pretty sure some poet came up with it a thousand odd years ago, and now people use it in stories and plays and such."

You turn towards him. "And that phrase is?"

"Per aspera ad astra." Aki pronounces each syllable perfectly and purposely, with a certain sense of wonder. "It means, 'through thorns, look to the stars.' But phrases in old tongue can honestly be interpreted in a thousand different ways."

"The stars will never stop watching over us, even through hardships." You give your own interpretation, while admiring those very same stars. "What a beautiful phrase."

He smiles. "Yeah. I thought you would like it."

Those stars and this moon watched over your family ages ago. They foresaw the very first mages, they looked upon their devastating downfall. No matter what future they might hold for you, their presence above your head will never change, they'll never waver.

They've been watching Aki, too. When you were younger, young enough to gaze up at the sky and dream of a brighter future, where was he? Learning to fight the devils you'd soon have to run from, pacing the halls of the castle you dreamt of visiting?

You take another deep, grounding breath, taking in the crisp night air, and you draw your knees up, getting more comfortable. Glancing at Aki, you see him intently looking at the sky, this time. For once, he isn't staring at you.

"Could you tell me another?"

Aki glances towards you with a hint of surprise. "Another phrase?"

You nod. "I didn't know the kingdom still spoke in old tongue. It's interesting."

Aki hums, considering. He holds his chin, his brows pinching as he thinks. Eventually, he continues, allowing you to hear his smooth voice once more — just as you wanted.

"Okay… let's see. Fortis fortuna adiuvat. 'Fortune favors the bold.' All the knights in training have to learn that one." He smirks, his eyes rolling slightly. The kingdom's chivalry must fail to impress him. "Devil hunters prefer morior invictus. Death over defeat."

"I think I've heard the first one." You pause to dwell on his words, before you turn back to him, eagerly questioning, "And what about the kingdom? Could you tell me more about it?"

Aki pauses. He breathes a small laugh. "I'm… not sure what you mean. What did you want to know? Just…" He shrugs. "Anything?"

"Yeah. Can you tell me what it's like?"

For a moment, he hesitates. He takes a deep, thoughtful breath. A soft, clearly excited smile forms on his features. He gazes at you like you're sparkling more than the sky.

"Well, I- I thought you might like the kingdom's gardens," He explains, a bit awkward and stuttery at first. "The castle's garden, especially. The front entrance is surrounded by huge weeping willow trees. Each path is decorated with every bright color of flower you can imagine. They flourish in the spring, and in autumn, the trees turn the richest gold hue. There's rose bushes, daffodils, tulips, orchids. Orchids are your favorite, aren't they?"

When you brought home a bundle of orchids, he watched as you carefully trimmed their stems to place them in a vase on the dining room table, and he listened as you explained how you've always found them beautiful. They're a symbol of elegance and grace, a common motif in your favorite poetry books. You've always admired them. Aki promised he'd remember.

You nod shyly. "That's right."

Aki smiles. He places his hands in his lap, slightly fiddling with his thumbs. The moon and stars form a bright halo above him, glittering down onto both of you. "I'm sure you'd find orchids in every shade. Or if you wanted some for yourself, I could buy them for you. Ah, you'd like walking through the town square, too. There's lots of flower vendors."

"Flower vendors?" You're scoffing, donning a grin of disbelief, "People are spending gold on flowers when there's thousands they could pick without emptying their pockets?"

"Well, they're usually selling flowers you can only get in certain regions. They grow them themselves," Aki explains matter-of-factly. "Besides, it's tradition. You're supposed to buy flowers as gifts. For your loved ones or your family or your partner. Something like that."

You try to ponder the implications, your mind and your heart stuck on his specific choice of words; your partner. Does Aki have a spouse? Perhaps there's someone he's already interested in. He's royalty, surely he has admirers. Or maybe, just maybe, offering to buy flowers for you meant something more — but Aki stands, pushing himself up and rising to his feet, instantly halting your surging train of thought.

"Wait-" You glance up at him swiftly. "You're leaving?"

"Only for a moment," He answers. Your expression softens. The rush of relief that fills you must be palpable.

Aki gestures towards the cottage. "I was going to get a blanket for us. Unless you'd prefer to go back inside?"

"Oh. No," You murmur in response, shaking your head. "No, it's fine."

He isn't gone for long. Aki brings one of the blankets he was using for his makeshift bed: a large, handmade quilt, messily sewn from different patches of fabric. Delightful warmth fills your body as he drapes the blanket around you, but for good measure, he shifts closer. Close enough to let the both of you share the blanket, close enough to have your legs brush and your shoulder press to his.

And as the night stretches on, Aki tells you about the kingdom. He details everything you would want to know, he provides illustrations for all of the fantasies you have wondered and dreamt about — the luxuries you wished you could afford. He makes all of them seem real.

It's late. You need to sleep, you know you'll be exhausted by the time tomorrow comes, and you're sure he knows this too. But you stay as you are. You don't want this moment to end.

For as long as the night allows, you live through what he shares with you, as though this life were different, and you were much more fortunate. Honestly, you are more fortunate than you've ever been to have this, to have him.

Aki describes the kingdom's beauty to you. Cobblestone pathways, ornate churches, bridges that overlook the entire city. The castle is placed upon a hill; you can spot its grandeur from miles away. A river runs through the city, providing canoes you can take, pooling into a beautiful sea with an abundance of fish to catch. The streets are always busy. There's merchants and performers, vendors and dancers. Nightly parties and fancy outings, and a life you could only ever dream of.

If Aki offered to take you, to show you, to give you such a life, you can't quite decide how you'd answer.

At some point, the descriptions he's painting for you blend together. The bustling depictions of the ferry port jumble with his explanation of the town's most famous grand library. Your head slips to his shoulder, and you're fading away. You can't remember the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

Briefly, you wake up while Aki is carrying you inside, but you drift off once again the moment he places you into your bed, drawing the warm, comfy covers over you, and quietly closing your bedroom door behind him.

—

Days pass. Nights spent looking upon the stars together become more frequent.

After a while in your care, the injured scarlet songbird begins to show some positive signs. She's been leaving her bed on her own to hop around the living room, or to perch on the end of Aki's cot. Although her wing still seems weak, she's been trying to flap it, stretching and waving both wings in the air at every opportunity.

An excited Aki drags you into the cottage a few days later. You were in the clearing, tending to the garden, but you follow along when he begins tugging you by your arm.

The songbird flutters around the room, floating freely from the edge of the fireplace, to the kitchen counter, to the top of a sculpture-filled bookshelf.

Look, Aki says, exuberant. She's flying.

—

The flickering fire in front of you radiates steady, calming warmth. As you carefully tilt the small chunk of wood in your hands, your sleeves rolled up, a blanket in your lap to catch all the shavings, you can no longer feel the chill of the night.

An almost-full moon watches over your technique. Your eyes narrow in focus. Your thumb presses to the blunt side of your blade.

You've been working on this sculpture for a few days now; you have to be careful, you wouldn't want to make a mistake when you're so close to adding the finishing touches. This sculpture has to be perfect. After all, getting the chance to study a scarlet songbird up close is hardly an everyday occurrence.

Slowly and meticulously, you refine the head of the sculpture, smoothing out the bumps in the circular shape. The end of the head is spiked slightly, to form the shape of thin feathers. You've recently learned from your hours of study that songbirds have large, thick beaks, perfect for cracking open the shells of seeds. You curve your knife, and refine the simple shape of the beak into a dull, triangular point.

Aki sits across from you, one leg crossed over the other. The both of you have already finished dinner, and you now rest in the middle of the clearing, in front of the fire, sitting on some large fallen logs you dragged in from the forest. His hair remains the way it was this morning: tied back to keep stray strands out of his face. He leans backward, head tilted up as he gazes silently at the glittering sea of stars.

Normally, you would join him. You'd set your sculpture down to complete later, and you'd come to sit beside him, so the two of you could count the constellations together. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere. You're focused on the pounding of your heart and the movement of your hands, because tonight, Aki finally won.

There's a game the two of you have been playing, ever since the nights have begun to grow warmer.

To your surprise, when you brought up the idea, you learned Aki has never caught fireflies before. He's hardly ever seen them, he explains, outside of a handful of times when he was a kid.

They're useful to light up the kitchen, so you can clean up after taking your time at dinner. Most of the time though, you'll catch them in your palms, you'll place them into jars and admire the performance of their synchronized glow, just to watch them all fill the sky once you set them free. You showed Aki how he could catch them, his own hands mimicking the cupped shape of yours. And now, each night, you've been playfully competing to see who can catch more.

At first, it was to decide who would wash the plates and pans. When a few days went by with no success, Aki decided to raise the stakes. If he wins, he gets to ask you three questions, and you have to promise to answer.

You were confused. Perhaps even the slightest bit shocked. You silently mulled over his proposal as the two of you washed dishes together, a jar filled with ten busy fireflies on your side, and a jar holding just two of them on his side — both fireflies conversing, gently flickering their bulbs.

I won't ask anything too personal, I promise. And if I ever did, you wouldn't have to answer, Aki explained. His expression was soft and reassuring as he glanced up at you, while scrubbing some silverware with a worn-down rag. I feel I don't know much about you, is all. And I'd like to.

You aren't used to someone wanting to learn more about you, nor would you know precisely what you should tell them. What if you wind up saying too much? Or perhaps, you would only be able to tell him far too little?

No matter how foolish, some part of you believes it wants to tell him.

In all honesty, you weren't expecting much to come out of the deal you just agreed to. You believe him; Aki wouldn't ask anything out of the ordinary, he wouldn't press you, or put you in a situation you can't get out of. He also happens to be particularly awful at catching fireflies. He's never caught more than you, and with his lack of experience, you wouldn't expect him to — until tonight, of course.

Once you lit the firewood and a fire began to spark, you both sat down to compare how many you collected. You counted, and as the fireflies fluttered around, you recounted. Aki counted them as well before you set them free, just in case you were mistaken. He met your gaze with a sure, satisfied smile.

He caught one more than you.

Now, here you are. You wouldn't call this feeling worry. As you sit by the fire, busying yourself with your diligent work on your wood carving, your heart comes alive — with warmth that burns the chassis of your chest from the inside. You swear your fear has been swallowed by the flames, because this feeling is more like excitement, unwavering and true.

You have never revealed what lies beneath your surface, not ever before. Not to anyone but the starlight.

Gods, how you have waited for this.

"So," You begin, breaking the silence first. You drag your attention away from your wood carving, glancing up at Aki with an eyebrow raised, "What would you like to know?"

Aki finally looks away from the sky, and you try not to falter when his deep gaze meets yours. He flashes you a small smile. Then, he breathes a soft, obvious hmm, as if he's pretending you'd caught him off guard.

"Your name would be a good place to start."

Ah. After all this time, you still haven't told him. You consider the possibilities, nervously running your thumb over the grooved shape of the sculpture's unfinished wing. Your family name would be dangerous for him to know, of course. In any other circumstance, you'd consider giving him something fake, or possibly your middle name, since it'd be more difficult to trace. But this time, your first name is fine. If it's Aki who knows it, you have nothing to fear.

So, you answer. Aki grins, lacing his delicate, scarred hands together, and resting his elbows on his knees.

One question down, two more to go.

"A very pretty name. It suits you," He muses, in a tone smooth enough to make you shudder. His words feel like thick liquid gold, tingling in your veins and dripping down your back. "You already know mine. But perhaps there's something else you'd like to know about me?"

"I- I mean, maybe," You reply, trying and failing not to stutter. There's plenty of things you've been wanting to know, but nearly all of them you couldn't just say. You can't suddenly blurt out, Are you really royalty? as casually as he just asked for your name. "But I thought you were the one asking the questions. Not me."

"It'd be fair to let you ask some too. Right?"

Your fingers drum idly against the hilt of your knife.

"Okay, uhm…" You glance him up and down, trying to come up with something. Your gaze catches on the pointed ears sticking out from his hair; "You're an elf, aren't you? Is your family from the kingdom? I heard there weren't many elves there."

That was two questions in one, but Aki doesn't seem to mind.

"Half-elf," He corrects. The firelight dances in his eyes, forming fuzzy warmth in the edges of your vision. "My mother was an elf, and my father was human. My brother and I were both born and raised in the kingdom, as was my father. But my mother was considered an outsider. She left her village when she was twenty."

Was. Your eyes widen. Although you already had your hints and suspicions, you can't help but note his specific choice of words. Still, your gaze drifts back down to your sculpture. You glide your knife forwards to thin out the delicate shape of the long tail feathers, and you move along without mentioning it.

"Ah," You reply, nodding, "Sorry. You're a half-elf."

Aki cocks a brow. "You seem surprised."

Half-elves aren't exactly common, considering the tension that can still linger between both parties. Elves have always been known for discovering magic; their magic lineage leads some to distrust them. They're often blamed for past troubles. Humans are the ones revered for stopping them. A half-elf would surely face judgment from both sides.

You know what that feeling is like. Has Aki also felt like an outcast, did part of him gnaw from within, promising he would never find somewhere he truly belonged?

"I thought half-elves were a rarity," You reply quietly, "But I don't know, maybe I'm wrong." You give a heavy shrug of your shoulders. "It's been a while since I left the cottage."

If only he knew.

"That's alright," Aki answers calmly, folding his hands and placing them in his lap. "Half-elves are uncommon, but in recent times, not so much. The, uh," He clears his throat rather abruptly. "The old king and queen set a new precedent, I suppose."

You squint as his gaze meets yours, matching his coyness with curiosity and confusion.

The old king and queen. An elf and a human ruling together was unheard of, at the time.

Unfortunately, your memories of the kingdom are vague. When you were much, much younger, you heard many stories about the famous king and queen, your mother's embellished retellings filling your mind each night before bed. A few weeks before you fled the kingdom, you learned of their passing. The details weren't revealed to the public, you'd imagine. You suppose you were too young to know what was true and what was just a tale.

Before you can ask anything else, Aki is continuing, as he nervously drums a hand against his knee.

"A lot has changed in such a short time. Elves have always been welcome in the kingdom, but it's rare for people to judge them these days. The king and queen were very well remembered."

Then, he breathes a short laugh. He points to his ears, his star-shaped earrings sparkling when they catch the flames of the fire. "In some other places though, these ears have gotten me into an awful lot of trouble."

This, in fact, does not surprise you.

Your eyes roll playfully. Setting down your sculpture and your knife in favor of resting your chin in your hand, you shoot Aki a teasing glance. "Really? What kind of trouble?"

"Mmm, you know. The typical sentiments. Lots and lots of dirty looks. Whispers about magic and mages and the like. Most half-elves have smaller ears, but you can't exactly hide these." Aki taps his pointed ear, making his earring rustle. "I owe you many things- my life, for one. But I'm grateful you've never judged me, even when you saw what I was."

You shake your head and scoff, your jaw tightening, "Come on, you don't owe me anything. You needed help, that's all. So I provided."

You've told those words to yourself at least a thousand times. Oh, but it's so much more than that now, isn't it?

Aki sighs. "Gods, you're sweet, you know that?" He smiles, his gaze sparkling with saccharine sweetness. "You could have turned me away, you could have easily kept me at arm's length. But when I'm with you, I never feel anything less than welcomed."

Your heart stirs, thudding within your chest like a performer's drum, fluttering like the flap of a bird's wings, and warming your face until it feels hotter than the flames of the fire.

"Stop, you're just…" You rub your arm shyly while you glance down at your boots. "You're only saying that."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," Aki answers softly. "There's good in you, more than most I've met these days."

Good? When was the last time anyone thought of you as good? Mages have never been regarded with anything but contempt, and you have embodied that fact for so, so long. It's become who you are. You have defined yourself as a witch, you've embodied the terrible things you've heard people say and do. You aren't allowed to be anything more than that. Your life isn't worth anything more.

Aki makes you think differently. He's reminded you of what you thought you couldn't have, he's made you think that you can be you — clipped wings soft, and outstretched.

You glance down once more at the sculpture. You hold it in your palms, and run your thumb over the details: the pointed beak, the smooth body, the small feet. Carefully, you take hold of your knife. Your eyes narrow as you guide the blade, adding faint notches to the bird's thin talons.

You sigh to yourself, your brows knotted in focus. "I'm sure not everyone you've met is terrible."

"You'd be surprised. A lot of towns are still pretty intolerant towards elves. Towards mages, in specific. Even if I explained I was there to help them, to fight devils for them, sometimes they'd simply refuse to listen." Aki huffs in frustration, leaning forwards, rubbing the tension from the joints in his fingers. "I felt lucky whenever they denied me entry. At least then, I wouldn't have to deal with them."

You can definitely sympathize. Quietly, you reply, "That sounds… unfair."

"It was. My mother often tried to rationalize it. 'Those people are afraid, Aki. They don't want to be hurt again.'"

His shoulders slump when he lets go of a weighty, built-up breath. His gaze has found itself drifting, first focused on the fire, and now stuck on his hands. "I understood that. I've known since I was young. It's just… you know." A choked bite finds its way into his tone. "Frustrating."

Frustrating is a light way to put it. You certainly, undoubtedly know. Aki doesn't realize how acquainted you are with that very same feeling of hopelessness.

He pauses, brows furrowed as he thinks, and you set your knife aside. Your fingers return to trace the curves of the nearly-complete sculpture.

When Aki speaks next, he's glancing back up at you. "Could I ask about your family? Or… is that…"

He trails off, but you know precisely where he's headed. It isn't too much, not if he's the one listening. You shake your head, glancing between him and your hands.

"No, it's alright," You reply, your voice weaker than intended. "There just isn't much to say. They've both been gone for… Gods, ages now. I wasn't as close with my father, but my mother was very important to me. Losing her was difficult."

Sadness lingers in your tone, along with something anxious, something uncertain. Aki watches your hands, fiddling uneasily with the small wood carving.

Like a quiet eclipse, there's meaning behind your words, a gentleness you prosper when you give Aki a knowing, pained glance. You know the pain he's felt. You've shared it once, perhaps without realizing.

When he speaks, his voice helps to ground you.

"I'm sorry. I understand. My mother and father are gone. I lost my younger brother with them. It's a terrible feeling."

You breathe deeply, steadying yourself.

No one knows about your family. You rarely even think about what happened, you prefer to move on rather than dig up old wounds; it's what you needed to do to survive. And yet, in the face of Aki's soft expression, his calm gaze meeting yours, the words seem to spill out before you can stop them — your breath catching, your hands clenching the sculpture tight.

"I lost them. And when I did, I… I lost everything," You're murmuring, your shoulders tense as you try not to shrink in on yourself. "I was alone for the longest time. I felt… afraid."

Aki's leg bounces. For a moment, as you glance up at him quickly, before avoiding his eyes to look down again, you think he might stand up. You wouldn't mind if he came to sit next to you. Against your better judgment, you might find yourself pulling him closer, latching onto his arm or dragging him into an embrace just to savor the way your heart would skip. Instead, he forces himself to still, his hands folded and his knuckles locked.

You sigh, and continue before he has a chance to speak. "Sorry. It's difficult to… to put everything into words. I'm not used to this. I haven't really… talked about it before. Not until now."

Aki glances you up and down, noting the discomfort in your posture. He swallows, and he leans back.

"Don't apologize," He says, his tone soft. "You're doing just fine. You don't have to speak if you don't want to."

As your reassured gaze catches on his own, he brushes a palm over the back of his neck, and hurries to fill the air with something other than the crackle of the fire and the chirp of crickets.

"My dad and I- my mother always said we were the same," He begins. The fire's flames wash over his face in faint orange hues. "Stubborn. Fearless. He was an adventurer when he was my age. The kind of man that never wanted to be stuck in one place. But when he married, he finally settled down. He was… a well-respected man. Many people disapproved of him marrying an elf."

You stay frozen in place, your eyes softening at the sound of his voice. He takes a deep breath, laughing a bit.

"You know, when I was young, I was one of those kids that never stopped to think before they spoke. Ardentis is what my mother used to say. It means… filled with fire. Impulsive. When I was ten, I asked my father why he would ever marry my mother, if it made things so difficult. Thank the Gods I said it when we were out on our own, visiting another province. I can't imagine how they would've scolded me if I said it in public."

Filled with fire. Aki always burns bright, but the outline of his soul — floating and flickering within your magic — feels cold, in comparison. Like pressing your palm to the smooth surface of a frozen lake. Like falling through to drown in deep, cool waters.

Aki can't look at you. "My father answered, when you love someone, you'll find a way to bend the world to fit their shape." He pauses. He clears his throat, his shoulders slack; he glances up at you, finally. "It was one of the last things I remember him telling me, so I guess it always stuck."

You listen in silence. Everything converges and stops, your entire world pinpointed on this singular moment. The songbird sculpture rests in your hands, your grip tightening, although your gaze is unable to tear away from his. The fire crackles gently, the wind brushes your skin like a kiss.

Leaning back, Aki crosses one leg over the other. "I'm onto my third question now. Right?"

"Yeah. Right."

And what of the shape of your own soul? Would his fit with yours? Would they press together like the softness of hands interlocked, or like the sting of a knife to your throat?

Aki flashes you a warm smile. "Which do you prefer? Sunrise, or sunset?"

—

Sunset was your answer.

You adore the beautiful hues the sun paints across the sky, dying light shining through the trees in desperate rays, only for everything to fade into the alluring darkness of the night. Sunsets mark new beginnings, before the sunrise returns to embrace them. Both are beautiful — and to be honest, you weren't sure which you preferred.

When Aki asked you that night, you put little thought into your answer. You've always had an appreciation for both, but you've never thought of picking a favorite. You pondered it for a moment, before simply choosing one, like flipping a coin, like relying on a hunch. Sunsets are your favorite.

The night was stretching on for a bit too long, and since the two of you still needed to get some sleep, you left it at that. Aki thanked you. He gave you a simple, you'll see, when you questioned where he might be going with this. You yawned, watching the fire flicker weakly, and decided it'd be best to call the night there.

You slept peacefully and dreamlessly. Busy with the chores of the coming day, you nearly forgot about the conversation and the night you shared — until Aki returned to surprise you.

He'd been out for a while. You had some cleaning to do around the cottage that day, and so he promised to tend to the garden while you finished everything you needed to. You cleaned your bedroom and the living room. You washed all of the blankets and linens, hanging them up on the line out front. When you glanced towards the garden, the sun high in the sky and a crisp breeze at your back, Aki was nowhere to be found.

At last, just before sundown, he returned — along with the scarlet songbird in tow. You set down the dish you were washing as he tossed open the door to greet you in the kitchen.

In just one day, the bird has made immense progress. She's been following me all day, Aki explained earlier this afternoon. The bird flew out of the cottage when he left, and proceeded to follow Aki into the garden, perching on his shoulder whenever she needed to rest.

The bird flutters back inside, settling in her makeshift nest, and Aki holds the front door open, gesturing for you to follow.

A faint pout forms on your lips, your brow raising, arms crossing. "You're letting all the warm air out."

Aki lets go of a half-laugh, half-sigh. His hair is tied up, his sleeves are rolled slightly, but his tunic is otherwise neat. If he'd been working out in the garden, usually he'd return with his shirt and his palms covered in dirt; he's cleaned himself up already, it seems.

"There's something I want to show you," Aki says simply, "It's a surprise."

You shift from foot to foot. "What about dinner?"

"I'll help you make something afterwards. It won't take long, I promise."

You give yourself only a moment more to consider.

Following close behind, you allow Aki to lead you behind the cottage, through the clearing, and into the edges of the forest. With the end of the day fast approaching, the air is cooling down; it nips at your arms and your neck with gentle, icy teeth. Your boots crunch on leaves and fallen branches. Shadows envelop the forest floor, the thick canopy above watching over you. A large hill rests just behind your cottage, and you spot it as the whispering trees start to thin.

"Aki," You murmur, staring at his back, your chilly hands shoved in your pockets. The hill is clearly where he's leading you to, but why? "How far is whatever you wanted to show me?"

"Not far. It's right here," He replies, turning around to face you, offering you a reassuring glance. "We're just heading up this hill. I scouted the area already, pretty sure the devils have no idea this spot exists. We'll be able to run back home if anything happens, okay?"

You come to a stop at the foot of the hill, and you glance down. You watch, as you delicately step over the line that forms your magic mushroom circle. The spell splinters, losing its shape, leaving your veins in a rush. Aki is already halfway up the hill, and you hurry close behind him, following him to the top — where the sky finally comes into full view.

The sight you're met with is brilliant.

From the very top of the hill, you can see the clearing and your cottage. You can feel the breeze rustling your clothing and floating through your hair, almost as if you could fly, if you had wings. You're surrounded by hues of bright orange and pink that color every inch of the sky, vivid shades pooling around the edges of the clouds. If you squint, you can just barely glance at the line where the sun meets the horizon, glowing brightly as it begins to dip into the endless line of trees. A fierce dot of radiant yellow, alighting everything it touches in the very same hue.

The wind tugs at your clothes. You place a palm on your forehead, shielding your eyes to look at the sky clearer. You remember climbing this hill when you first made your cottage, but Gods, you've never seen anything like this.

Aki walks further, guiding you to the furthest edge of the hill — and that's when you spot it. A large log placed for the both of you to sit on, with a few blankets draped across it, and a delicately-picked bundle of flowers placed on top.

"Oh- you-" You're talking without thinking, your breath caught in your throat, your eyes wide as you glance between him and the arrangement. Aki is smiling stupidly. He looks at you and then towards the horizon, as though he's still waiting for you to follow.

"You did all of this?" You sigh. "Aki, you didn't have to-"

"I know," Aki interrupts, soft and assured, far too tender. Of course he didn't have to, but this is what he wanted.

"Come here," He says, gesturing once more for you to follow. Your hands clutch the front of your shirt absently, but you trail close behind with unsteady steps. "Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a blanket?"

"I'm okay," You answer. You sit down on the log, awkwardly resting your hands in your lap. Aki swiftly sits down next to you, a foot or so of distance still kept in between.

You shake your head. "I'm not that cold."

"Alright. If you'd like one, just say the word."

Your heart pounds in your ears to a fervent melody. As you fiddle with your hands, you barely notice Aki reaching for the flowers that were resting on the other side of your homemade seat.

They're bundled delicately, stems secured by a thin piece of twine, tied into a messy attempt at a bow. Orchids. Exquisite white blooms, with petals splattered in shades of purple and pink. Your gaze catches on his, something unreadable but surely shy flashing in his expression. The sun's low light makes him look so warm. Aki's grip tightens on the stems, and he clears his throat quietly.

"I've wanted to show you this for far too long, now. And after you mentioned it yesterday, I thought this would be a good place to watch the sunset," He explains, his tone kept smooth, despite the unsureness to his movements as he sets the flowers in his lap. "Hold on-"

Aki chooses one of the smaller orchids. He pulls at the middle of the stem, breaking it off from the rest. Your gaze follows him, as he shifts closer, closing a few threads of distance between you. He reaches forwards, then up, tucking the flower behind your ear, his fingers brushing your jaw as he does so.

He smiles — a terribly soft, utterly lovesick smile. His fingertips linger on the side of your face for longer than they have to. He admires you, the wind pulling faintly at your hair, the flower's colorful bloom practically glowing in the vibrant light of the fading sun. You feel warm, down to your veins; you can hardly think, can't hear anything besides the pound of your own heart. Aki pulls away, his gaze still caught on you, and you find yourself missing the brush of his touch.

"You're so pretty." Aki breathes a low, calm breath. "Prettier than the sun."

Oh. In your vision, Aki seems to glow brightly, outlined by the blues and pinks of the sky. His unkempt bangs brush his eyes, his earrings twirling in the gentle wind. Your hands shake slightly when you take the bundle of flowers from him, your face feels warm — and he swears, more than the flowers, you seem to blossom. A smile crosses your features, fading into the faintest, most perfect laugh.

"You're ridiculous," You chide playfully, shaking your head. Holding the orchids in your lap, you brush your thumb over the soft petals of one of the blooms. You can feel the flower that rests behind your ear, tickling your face when the wind makes it rustle. "I can't believe you did all of this."

Aki hums, "It's nice though, isn't it? You can see the sky so clearly from here."

He's right. The moon is already visible — a thin crescent that plans to usher in the night to come. Crisp cool air fills your lungs with each breath, and as the sun dips lower, the horizon shimmers in fading shades of red. It's lovely on its own, but knowing Aki thought of you, planned this for you, has your mind in such a mess, you can hardly focus on the view.

Aki is no better. He rests his chin in his hand, his gaze on yours, his smile clumsy and endearing. The fading sun and the trees and the sky could never be as captivating as you.

You steal the smallest glance towards him, and when you see him still staring, your shoulders go slack with your light laughter. "You're not even watching…"

"Oh," Aki turns away, trying his hardest — and utterly failing — to hide his smile. "Yeah. I wasn't."

The sun blends into the distant sea of trees like butter melting on a skillet, and although he promised the opposite, Aki finds himself glancing at the sparkle in your gaze once more.

He rolls his shoulders backward. His voice sounds unsure when he speaks.

"I know this isn't much. But I hoped I could do something nice for you, to… I don't know." Aki sighs, struggling to put his words into place. "To thank you, for all the kindness you've shown me."

You glance towards him again, almost forming a rebuttal, but he promptly interrupts.

"And I know I didn't have to. None of this was necessary, I didn't have to do any of the things I've done. But you-" His hands are tense, and he squeezes his own fingers, trying to alleviate his growing tension. He seems so earnest, like his words are more than words, but shimmering stars simply begging to fall — "You deserve more than words could say. You're important. I thought this might be… something you'd find important, too."

Aki stalls, brushing his thumb over his own knuckles. You want to say so much, even though you're sure you shouldn't. Aki, it's lovely, this is beautiful. And this is so, so perfect. I can't remember the last time I felt so happy, if there was any time at all. But words come as stuck constellations whenever Aki has you like this; your heart skips, and you couldn't possibly pick out everything, you can only manage to utter some of them.

Your breathing wavers. "I'm important to you?"

Aki sighs, his gaze meeting yours. "You are everything to me."

Your heart thrums in your chest, iridescent in your throat, drumming firm against your ribs. You're speechless, for more than a few moments. The rest of the world — the shaking trees, the smoke billowing from your distant cottage, the dying sun — pleasantly fades away. Aki weakens, his expression soft and his voice gentle.

"And it's- it isn't just because you saved my life," He explains, "You are kind and thoughtful, and so, so special. There is so much I could tell you. Gods, every time I talk to you, the words- everything flows effortlessly. I've never felt that before. Not once."

Not once. Not with anyone. You shift, trying to catch your breath — trying not to let those words consume you.

Aki's hand rests at his side, mere inches away. His fingers nervously drum the rough wood.

"It's been a pleasure to share these days with you. To learn more about you, to talk and to just- to just be." He goes quiet, before he laughs, his gaze now focused on the distant view. You swear the lightest trace of pink dusts his face, his pointed ears. "You remember that word I taught you yesterday?"

You nod shallowly. "Ardentis." Your head tilts as you try to catch his wandering gaze again. "You aren't talking too much, though."

"Really?" Aki breathes a soft hum, almost in disbelief. "You did say you enjoyed the sound of my voice, once."

Once, and each time after. Your reply comes in the form of a slow, uneven breath, along with the subtle movement of your hand; until your pinky finger is able to brush his just slightly. Barely tender, nothing more than a faint touch, a silent promise. Still, you steady, savoring the feeling of him close to you, and melting in the heat of the thick, molten warmth inside your chest.

Glancing down, unable to face you, Aki hesitates for a fair stretch of time. You're barely able to catch the conflicted look on his features before he moves his hand away, like it'd been burned. His jaw clenches. Your hand craves more of his touch in his absence.

"That- that was too much, wasn't it?" His brows pinch, he almost sounds pained. "Maybe I should-"

He starts to stand, but you stop him halfway. You grab his hand and squeeze it tight — like the action is natural, like it isn't the first time you've tried this. His skin is soft, his palm is rough, his knuckles are ragged with crosshatches of scars. You refuse to let go, even as Aki follows your gaze, slowly sitting back down beside you.

"Don't go," You murmur simply. "Please."

Aki's expression goes terribly, dangerously soft. If you had planned to let go of him, if you hoped that your judgment could guide you and in the interest of caution, you would keep some distance — all of those ideas are rendered useless when he squeezes your hand back. Gentle yet firm, tight enough to make you think he never truly wanted to leave in the first place.

"Aki… I-" Oh, it's so much harder to talk when he's inches away, and when the only thing your mind and pounding heart can focus on is his hand in yours. His hand. You never want to let go. "There's so much I want to tell you, I just- I can't. I don't know if I ever can."

"You don't have to," Aki returns when you falter. "It's alright."

"I know, but I want to. I guess- I would miss you, if you left. So terribly. And-" You stop, sighing. Your bottom lip quivers, everything failing, converging, all of the feelings you shouldn't hold onto and the lies you've told; "I'm sorry."

Aki shakes his head, and softly coos, "You have nothing to apologize for."

You look away, glancing towards his hand in yours. Each inhale and exhale comes quick and sharp. The wind brushes the back of your neck, complimenting the heat that runs through your veins. Aki shifts. His hand is soft and warm, his palm is large, but his fingers are deft and delicate. When they lace with yours, fingers fitting perfectly between the gaps of your own, hands intertwining together, you can't help but wish they would forge. Like a stone statue. To always stay just like this.

"I would miss you more than you know," Aki admits, offering your hand a gentle squeeze. "The days have gone by so fast. It feels like I've hardly had a chance to savor them."

You nod. "I remember when we met. Like it was yesterday."

"Do you?" He smiles, exhaling with an ever-so slight laugh. It wasn't exactly the best introduction. "I was supposed to return to the kingdom that very same night. Ages ago, I should've been back. At every turn, I would tell myself… just a few more moments with you, and then I would leave. Just one more day. And now look at us."

"Oh," You glance back up at him. "Am I keeping you?"

"Of course not." Aki reaches up, and he doesn't hesitate to brush his free palm over your cheek, cupping it gently; the orchid's white petals tickle his fingertips. It takes everything within you not to lean into him. "It was my choice. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

The silence that begins to stretch between you is long and thick. Glowing in hues of orange through the darkening sky, you're illuminated by the almost-set sun. Aki's thumb caresses your cheek, and you give in; leaning close, you sigh, you press your hand over his to keep it there.

"If we went to the kingdom," You start; your gaze flickers up to meet his, your words trying not to tremor. "What would we do?"

Aki answers, his tone low, "Whatever you want to do."

"I'd like to visit the sea. And the town square. And the grand library."

"Then let me take you there." Aki's voice is full of conviction, laced with an intensity that strongly shudders through you, "I can show you everything you want to see. I won't leave your side, if that's what you want. We'll make things work- I'll do whatever it takes. I promise."

The impossible odds you've let define you seem meaningless when you let your gaze flicker across him, trying to put the pieces he's given you into place. Instead of the orange in the sky, the green in the trees, the red on the horizon and the red that has painted the back of your vision since you learned how to speak, you see in shades of blue. You dream of the ocean — white waves and rocky seas underneath your fingertips, as you lose yourself in the blue of his gaze.

In every romance book you've ever read, the novels you busied yourself with when you summoned them instead of something factual — sometimes on accident, but then, on purpose — this is when the two main leads would tilt closer. This is when the knight would caress the princess' cheek, whispering how fortunate he is to be together once more. His eyes would flutter shut before they kissed, lips desperately crashing together like sinking ships. Like this is the last time they ever would.

You almost grow lost in those daydreams. Almost. Almost is far too risky of a word, when it is the only thing that separates you from dragging Aki close, running your fingertips along his jaw, and forgetting all reason to press your lips to his.

Thankfully, Aki slowly pulls away. He brushes your cheek one last time, before he shifts back, letting go of your hand. Recognizing the both of you might've grown carried away, you don't attempt to reach out again. You place your hands in your lap, and look elsewhere to catch the final glimpses of the sun's vibrant edge.

You feel cold now. It'd be wise to return home soon, before the forest gets too dark to navigate. Aki seems to have the same idea. Yet, even as you glance back to him to watch him stand, you can't seem to convince your own legs to move.

"Come on," He gathers the blankets he'd brought and keeps them under his arm, before he reaches to you, offering you his hand once more. "We should head back."

Like a book snapping closed, fluttery pages pressed back together, the moment lingers, but fades. You take his outstretched hand, and allow him to guide you to your feet. You grab the bundle of orchids, holding them in front of you, staring down at the dainty, delicate petals.

"But-" You look up. "What about…?"

Aki continues once you trail off. "Don't answer. Just think about it, okay?" He drapes one of the blankets over your shoulders, carefully wrapping it around you. His gaze focuses on his hands as he ties the ends together to keep it in place. "About your choice, or about where you'd like to go first. Whichever comes easiest to you."

For now, you can ponder neither of those. When you head down the hill together, leaving the sky behind, all you can think of is how you were definitely, most certainly wrong.

Sunsets must be your favorite.

—

The scarlet songbird takes her leave a few days later.

Her wing has healed, and she's grown strong enough to fly wherever she pleases. After eating her fill of seeds and enjoying the warmth of the fireplace one last time, she patiently waited until morning, before she drifted out the front door and into the forest, her red wings disappearing amongst the trees. She didn't return, even once nightfall came. You're thankful. Her life will continue, as it was always meant to.

Tonight, Aki had promised to collect firewood and start the fire outside, so it'd be ready by the time you were finished with dinner. The cottage is quiet with the absence of his voice and the bird's chirping. The orchids he'd given you rest in a vase on the dining room table. You take your ladle, and continue to stir the warm, nearly complete pot of stew. Then, you reach up and into the cupboard, searching for the seasoning.

You ran out with the last meal you prepared, but you always keep some extra in the very back. Standing on your tiptoes, you fumble blindly, making the various jars clink together as you try to find what you're looking for.

You grab one, unsure if it's the jar you're after. When you set it on the counter, you unfortunately realize it isn't. This was where you were storing your last few shavings of white hazel.

The thin, white leaves have begun to crumble due to age. They're much less potent like this. They should be safer to handle, but a dosage of this size would be much less effective.

Gently, you pop the lid on the jar. A soft, thick scent wafts from the contents, before disappearing almost immediately. The leaves would need to be ingested to serve their purpose. And it would take all of them, most likely. You'd only have one chance.

If you touched them, infusing them with your magic, you could make their effects much stronger. All you would need to do then is dish out the bowls — one for him, and one for you — before dropping all of them into his dish, stirring for a moment until they dissolve. White hazel is tasteless. Besides, Aki never wastes your cooking.

You could make Aki forget all about you. About everything you've told him, and everything that's happened here. He'd forget your cottage, and each moment you shared; they'd all be lost on him. Meeting you, your gentle touches as you brought him back to life. Your late night talks, your days spent growing closer. Everything would be gone, even up to the bird, and that fateful, sunlit, all-too tender evening.

You sigh.

Grabbing the jar, you stroll over to the fireplace. You kneel down to dump all of the leaves into the flames. They crisp up in mere seconds, before they fade away into nothing but dust and ash.

The sea would be nice to visit first. It's the one thing you've always wanted to explore, more than anything else. The sea, and the castle. Briefly, you wonder if visiting the royal castle would actually be a genuine possibility. With the benefit of his royal status, Aki might be able to get you in — perhaps in a few months to a year, depending on when he can get the both of you a party reservation. Oh, but for a royal party, you'd have nothing to wear. Would the shops in town sell dresses?

Maybe you should save your first visit to the sea for a more special occasion. You wouldn't want to go without Aki. Would the harbor look more beautiful at night, with the lighthouses and boats casting glittering lights that rival the stars, or in the morning, when everyone is yet to wake, allowing you to hear nothing but the calm lull of the waves?

Or perhaps, you should see it at sunset.

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki hayakawa x you #aki x you

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rawmeknockout · 11 months ago

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Can we have some command trine x minibot!reader? Please and thank you, king 💕💕💕

Dweeb is the most apt description for the whole lot of them.

It's almost funny; you used to be so terrified of them. They're still intimidating. The most skilled fliers to ever come from Cybertron, capable of razing down Autobot forces like they're insects. More than once you've been at the business end of their null rays, barely escaping being shot down (usually due to your miniscule size in comparison). You're clearly no match for them one-on-one, despite being able to escape being offlined by the Decepticon seeker forces more times than you care to count. You don't know how many more dogfights you've got left in you before you're a little energon smear on Earth's crust.

In comparison to the Decepticons, you're a clumsy, amateur flier. Forged for carrying cargo, as opposed to Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp who are the pinnacle of fighter build. The first image that comes to mind when mechs think Decepticon. They're elite soldiers with a tight formation and more combat experience than most mechs. Probably because most mechs can't survive as long. More than once Sunstreaker has compared Skywarp to an organic cockroach; the sort of mech that won't die no matter how many punches he takes. They have so much combat experience that the more you run into them, the more you learn as a result. That's perhaps the only good thing to come from having contact with them as a flight frame.

One of the things you've learned is that all three of them are absolute dorks. Thundercracker is the most tolerable, sensible and calm when the others are lost in their feelings and schemes. He would rather take atrocious orders than give them. You begrudgingly find him handsome, with a smile that belongs on an ad for denta scrub as opposed to getting knocked clean off from throwing servos with the likes of Brawn. His optics sparkle when he reaches down to hold your small digits, something that should NOT set your lines ablaze. The fluttering in your circuits makes you want to purge.

Skywarp is a plain nuisance, on the battlefield and in everyday life. When he's not warping in your way and playing stupid pranks, he's picking you up in his stupid big arms and warping off with you. He uses his ability to an obnoxious degree, irritating not only you but everyone around him. The zzZZ-VOP of him materializing from nothing haunts your deepest nightmares. He is irritatingly giddy around you, dementedly giggling right in your audial when he curls his large build around yours. But, just as you are forced to tolerate him, Skywarp is steadfastly tolerant of everything you do. Even the harshest insults you can levy are nothing more than water off an Earth duck's back. He might be actually nice to hang out with, you might be able to laugh off his antics, if he wasn't so insistent on banging pelvic armor.

But the one you least understand is Starscream. You've spent so long analyzing his flight patterns, copying the sharp way he dips and dives through the air, trying to morph your frame's movements to match his grace and deadly skill. And yet you're still no closer to understanding the mech himself. Not that you're exactly part of logistics and strategy, you would rather leave that to Prowl, but it would be nice to know what in the hell you did to attracted Starscream of all mechs. Thundercracker and Skywarp were easier to understand, more Cybertronian. They were deadly but noticeably more alive, Starscream is like a scheming, plotting machine with only torment on his mind. If it didn't hurt another mech, why would he care? But, as little as you understand it, when he's not shrieking at the top of his vocalizer at his brethren, he's trying to sneak his treasonous claws into your servo. You've learned it's best to ignore this, even let him do it, because if you question him he'll blow your audials out with how little he thinks of you screamed at the top of his voice like a hawk. You also blithely ignore the way he struts around like a peacock, flaring his wings in a blatant attempt to attract your attention.

Where once you felt fear, loathing, and reluctant respect for the elite trine, now you just feel weary. Perhaps it's the curse of being a mini flier. There aren't a whole lot of your kind left, and it's not exactly a popular frame for construction. It's got to be the novelty of it. That's all you can think. Why else would they be bickering with you trapped in the middle, Starscream's claws bearing down on your poor shoulder armor while Skywarp squeezes you a tad too hard. Thundercracker doesn't help much, more focused on shouting the others down than saving you.

A pack of sqwaking hens.

Maybe in this next battle you'll be shot down and you can take a nice long rest in Ratchet's medbay. That sounds nice.

#txt #asks #transformers #reader insert #reader imagine #tf g1 #transformers g1 #transformers generation 1 #skywarp #thundercracker #starscream #tf starscream #g1 starscream #g1 thundercracker #tf thundercracker #g1 skywarp #tf skywarp

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ichilemonwritruoo · 2 months ago

Text

Why I Write Future Trunks with an Eating Condition

As a fanfiction writer, I typically stay very close to a character's original traits and personality when I write about them, whether this is regular writing or yumeship writing. Most people have their own headcanons and what not about Future Trunks but the main difference between my Future Trunks and your Future Trunks is that I write him with an eating condition.

Now let me be clear, this is an eating condition not an eating disorder. Or basically its Disordered Eating vs Eating Disorder.

An eating disorder is a clinical diagnosis that often is accompanied by obsessive thoughts about food, weight gain, and binging and purging. Disordered Eating however, is defined as "abnormal eating patterns" that do not meet the criteria for an eating disorder. The main difference is the symptoms themselves and how often and how intense they are. People with disordered eating sometimes can't control their symptoms either, so instead of choosing to not keep food down, their body reacts and they cannot keep food down, but not by choice.

So now that we got that cleared up, I write Future Trunks with an eating condition, or disordered eating patterns, and this is all based off multiple official Dragonball media sources. I will go into detail below the line break!

Saiyans are known widely for the ridiculous amounts of food they consume, everyone knows that about them right? Our first discrepancy is in DB Kai when everyone comes out the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Goku and Teen Gohan began eating, and essentially he is amazed at seeing how much food they can eat without stopping. I believe there is a scene of him and Vegeta eating before as well, when Bulma gave them the saiyan armor. Trunks is a half breed exactly like Gohan and even Goten for this matter, so why is he unable to eat like the rest of them? It's their genetic DNA, its in them as saiyans and yet he does not show this behavior.

This leads me to my second media, Kakarot for the PS4/PS5. Of course as a Trunks fangirl/yumeshipper I spent a lot of the game and post game playing with him as my party leader. Every character in the party has specific dialogue for overworld actions like running into battles and speaking to other people. Goku for example, when he finds a golden fruit says "this looks like a delicious apple/peach/etc!" or when he catches premium meat he's like "we're eating good tonight! Can't wait to get this home to ChiChi". Now, flying around as Future Trunks and collecting food items, leads to an interesting dialogue if the food is any type of premium find whether it is fruit, vegetable, or meat (sorry I lost my video proof when I transferred over to PS5)

Future Trunks: I am very grateful for the opportunity of such a rare find.

....This isn't money or gems we're talking about. This is an apple. A peach. A rare onion. Heck even Golden Deer meat. And that's his response. So clearly, food, especially good food is a luxury in Future Trunks timeline, which makes sense, his world has been devastated and rebuilt more than once due to multiple villains. By the time West City is getting back on its feet in the future, another monstority is coming to tear it down. So good food is probably not an option. It's all about survival at that point.

And this leads to our third example which is the media in DBS which collaborates my theory. In the Goku Black Arc, they've been at war for a year. Trunks is noticeably smaller in body mass when we see him for the first time compared to Kai, and even the movies like Bojack Unbound. The first scene we see is Future Trunks in his refugee home, he feeds Scratch and then he opens a very small can of food and takes a few bites before giving it to Mai. The amount of food in the can is not enough to even feed a child, more a less a saiyan. My assumption is that as humans, our bodies are made to adapt so at some point his body probably got used to such a low intake of food so he could keep fighting. And knowing all this, the first thing he does is give it to Mai. It's obvious food and resources are scarce for the survivors at this point since everything has been destroyed.

Future Trunks then arrives in the past and is immediately taken care of by the others. Of course he has to stay in the past as they devise a plan, but it is shown to be a struggle even then as he has vivid PTSD episodes when he tries to sleep and spends his time training.

Our first eating scene in the Past (not including the senzu bean he was fed) is when Bulma gives Beerus the Fish Sausage to please him and to forgive Trunks for time travelling. Beerus, Whis, and everyone else immediately eats the Fish Sausage and Trunks is shown to be the last one to bite into it. Even then, everyone finishes the sausage but Trunks does not. He's never shown to finish eating it. If anything he seemed a bit hesitant over Beerus and the food itself which is understandable.

When Trunks meets Current Gohan after his studies Gohan brings him ice cream and the first thing Future Trunks does is say "I'm good" as in he doesn't want it. But Gohan keeps talking and begins to apologize so he ends up taking the chocolate ice cream. Gohan takes bites out of the ice cream (dang my teeth hurt) but Trunks takes very very small licks of ice cream, eating in a conservative manner almost or that eating when you don't really want to eat. He only starts eating in bites when Gohan tells him to eat up before it melts, to which he does.

The next time we see him eating is after he gets his change of clean clothes from Bulma. Beerus, Whis, and Goku are discussing who Goku Black's energy feels like. Trunks has a plate similar to his usual exact same size and immediately he joins the conversation leaving the food clearly half eaten/barely touched in the background. He never goes back to eat it either, his whole focus becomes on Goku Black. However at this point Goku has already finished his plate (of many probably) and is still eating even when they discuss the plan about Goku Black's true identity and he steals Beerus' food lol.

After escaping back to the past once again, they have dinner at Capsule Corporation with all the Z fighters. Everyone is eating at the table except Future Trunks who already has less food compared to Goku and Vegeta. Even though the plates are small we can rightfully assume they went back multiple times. Future Trunks does not start eating until he realizes he is being watched; Goku points out that he's not eating and Current Trunks of the Past is sitting next to him and watching him. Vegeta is noticeably watching him too probably for a number of reasons though. It is only then that he starts eating and consequently he starts, shoving food into his mouth as if to fit in with the others.

Lastly we have the scene where Vegeta uses the capsule to open a buffet of food for the underground refugees when they return to the future. It's a really large spread of food with enough to go around for everyone. All the refugees thank Vegeta and began eating; noticeably Trunks does not partake of this meal at all, despite there being more than enough for everyone. It could be plausible that maybe he just wasn't hungry at the moment but its hard to resist good food isn't it? Especially if it's laid out in front of you. But the feeling is different if you don't have a healthy relationship with food.

All in all, analyzing these scenes are the reason why I've concluded Future Trunks does not have a healthy relationship with food and his behavior shows signs of disordered eating.

He has all the markings and stresses that rightfully adds up to that too, look at everything he's been through. He needs to eat more food, he's an adult saiyan, and the opportunity in the past allowed him to do so and he still choose not to. Maybe it wasn't a choice, maybe he physically couldn't eat more, even if he wanted too.

Now this isn't in any media obviously but disordered eating comes alongside changes in BMI, nausea, exhaustion, a feeling of fullness, skipping meals, a form of purging, etc. So I often write him with these symptoms after a meal because it's apart of disordered eating (or having an eating condition).

Probably once the emotional stressors are relieved and his timeline is saved, Future Trunks can start to work on his relationship with food and make it more healthy. Which I also like to focus on.

Anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk about Future Trunks relationship with food. Anytime I see him eating whether its fanart or official media it adds 5 years onto my lifespan.

Also once again this is my personal findings, everyone has different interpretations and this is just mine! I like this angle because it works out because it teaches that not all battles can be fought with fists you know?

So um yeah. Thanks for reading haha. I can talk about this anyday. I love my underfed Future Husband.

#future trunks #dragon ball #character anaylsis #It also makes a good point of healing for my yumeship with him #He needs to eat mooooreee #But also he needs help :(#I wrote an essay haha #if I possibly missed anything I'd be curious to know #Medical Talk cw #tw eating issues

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zenxvii · 1 year ago

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hellooo can you make a kyungjun fic where it is a happy ending😭💢 thank you sm

Hiii! Okay okay okay sorry for the last one here’s a happy one🙏🏻

Character: Kyung-Jun x fem!reader

Kdrama: night has come

!!: thoughts are in italics

🫶🏻: -

y/n pov

I walked thru to corridors making my way to my classmates. Jun-Hee hd told me to come down and meet others.

I arrived down seeing I was the last one there. “Now that everyone is here I think we have a solution how to survive.” Jun-Hee started and many heads were turn to his way.

“We know that if we vote someone dies, but if we don’t it should guarantee nobody dying.” What a stupid plan. We can’t be 100% it would work.

“What do you mean. We can’t be sure no one would vote! What is someone votes in secret!” A girl from our class said and I nodded along.

“We’ll gather the phones so nobody could vote.” “What if the holder changes their mind and votes!”

Some people against Jun-Hees plan and others with him. “Shut up! For once the class president has a good idea.” A voice stopped everyone.

Kyung-Jun walked with his minions following him. He walked in the middle with a yellow dumpster(?) “Be reasonable and listen when I’m being nice.” He told and glanced at everyone his glaze stopping at me.

“We’ll put our phones here so nobody can take then and put the bin in the middle.” He said and started to walk around getting the phones with his minions telling everyone the be quick.

I was the last one and he looked straight at my eyes. “Put your phone here princess.” So annoying.

I sighed and handed my phone.

The yellow bin was put on the middle with white clothing around it and nobody didn’t have permission to cross over it.

I could sense everyone being tense and just waiting the clock tick. It was 11.50pm and the ten minute wait would be like hell. I sighed and decided to sit on the ground tired from all the standing.

I eyed everyone, people were quiet no one talking. It was a bit too quiet for my liking, but I didn’t feel like saying anything when everyone was so tense.

11.55pm the five minute wait still there. It felt like eternal waiting for the clock strike 12. I played with my thumbs just waiving them around waiting for the time pass.

The five minutes had now passed even tho it felt like hours. Nobody moved. “We did it!” Someone yelled as the clock struck 12.01am. Now everyone was hugging each others and smiling.

I let out a breath of relief even tho I had a feeling this wasn’t over yet. When people were celebrating the fucking purge sound started again. I knew it.

“Players must identifyand vote out the Mafia!”

People tried to go for their phones but were stopped by the class president telling them it may not mean they would die.

It was before a body fell. And another one.

“For breaking the rules Lee Soo Bia and Park Ji Hoon have been eliminated.”

“Lee Soo Bia and Park Ju Hoon were civilians.”

People were in shock just standing there nobody moving. I had fell into a complete shock, the bodies had fell just few meters from me.

I was still on the ground as I saw the red spilling towards me. Now the purge sound had gotten louder and the lights turned to red.

Everyone were rushing to find their phones to vote. I couldn’t do anything because of the shock. I just sat on the ground.

I knew I needed to find my phone so I used all the strength that I gad and pushed myself off of the ground and started to look for my phone with a wave of people looking for theirs.

The bin had fallen and all the phones were scattered around the ground as people were panicking. I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. I started to panic. More and more people started to get eliminated and some to vote.

I felt a hand tug me. “Haven’t you found phone yet!” Kyung-Jun stood in front of me. “No!” I yelled at him with a slight panic in my voice. “Fuck.” He muttered and started to look for something. I’m gonna die.

I saw as Kyung-Jun motion his minions over and said something to them and they all started to look for something. There!

I saw my phone in the floor but just as I tried to grab it someone accidentally kicked my hand and my phone in the same. “Fuck!” I cried out in pain and watched my phone slide. I held my hand in pain. It was a strong and hard kick.

Just as I got up to get my phone Kyung-Jun was standing in front of me with my phone nodding to Jun-Ha who was standing were my phone hand sled.

“Vote!” He told me and shoved my phone to my hands. I yelped as he shoved it to my hurting hand. “But for whom!” I said I didn’t have tome to think and I couldn’t think straight.

“Vote for me. Now!” Was all he said as he opened his phone too.

I gulped and voted.

“l/n y/n voted for Go Kyung-Jun”

“Go Kyung-Jun voted for l/n y/n”

I felt my heart pounding in my ears with all the ringing from the purge sound. My hand was hurting bad. I used my flashlight on my phone and saw my hand turning a bit purple. Fuck.

Many people had voted and the timer told us it was time.

“Baek Eun-Ha vill be eliminated with the most votes of 10.”

“Baek Eun-Ha was a civilian.”

“I told you it’s not me!” The girl screamed I turned my gaze to her. She cried on the floor looking straight ant So-Mi.

She cried and cried, yelling at people who voted for her telling them she was telling the truth.

I looked back at my hand and saw Kyung-Jun looking it too. “That’s bad.” He said and shook his head with anger. “Yeah.” Was all I could say. “Sorry.” I said and leaned my head against Kyung-Juns chest.

He didn’t say anything but slightly wrapped his one arm around my shoulders. This might’ve looked weird to others. Me leaning on him. But to us it was okay. I guess.

The ‘lullaby’ started ringing and I felt my body going limp and my eyes closing.

I woke up the next morning. My hand sore as I opened my eyes I saw Kyung-Jun in front of me with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful. His hand was supporting my head. what a lucky way we fell.

I sat up and poked him. People started to wake up with groans and some sobs. Kyung-Hun sat up and immediately stood up after to go to his minions.

I looked at my hand seeing it purple, it wasn’t broken. But a big bruise on it. It was sore and I couldn’t move it much, but it was good that it wasn’t broken.

- (sorry i’ll skip the morning😞)

I arrived at the cafe after Kyung-Jun had told me to meet him there. Jin-Ha neither Seung-Bin weren’t there. “Why did you wanna meet?” I asked just standing at the door. “Come closer I don’t bite.” He said and motioned a chair next to him.

I sat next to him. “Ah! I never got to say this. But thank you, you saved my life yesterday.” I said and looked at him. He didn’t say anything but pulled a med kit under the table and sat it on the table.

“Show me your hand.” He told me and I did. I showed my hand to him and he gently grabbed it. “You should be more careful.” He said and wrapped a bandage around my hand. He was surprisingly gently.

“Thank you again.” I told him as he was finished with the wrapping. “Don’t fall for me now.” He said and patted my head and left. I just might..

——

End😳

yes yes I know kinda copied the hyun-ho and na-hee scene but it was just so cute😞🙏🏻

#kyungjunxreader #kyung jun #kyung jun x reader #kyungjun #night has come #night has come (tv)#x reader

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phantoms-lair · 7 months ago

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88 for the crossover roulette.

Okay, this one took me a while

~~~~ "You really are like a cockroach aren't you?"

Vlad whirled around. No human should be in this place! Especially not one he didn't know. And he didn't recognize the tall lanky man one bit, though it was hard to make out his face covered by a hood. "How did you get in my house?"

"There are many ways to get into places Plasmius." he snarled.

Well that was that then. Whoever he was, he couldn't live. He created a duplicate behind the man, ready to strike him unawares-

Only to scream as the duplicate popped and incredible pain lanced through his body.

"Like it?" The stranger sneered, showing off his belt. "Improved model of the specter deflector. Little bit of the Plasmius Maximus built in too. Good luck using your powers for the next several hours." he crouched before Vlad's prone form. "Now where were we? Oh right, you being a cockroach. You do the stupidest shit and then you escape consequences by lying. You lie to your business partners before you rob them blind. You lied to Valerie about everything about ghosts. You like to yourself about how nothings ever your fault and that Mom would ever like you. You lie to Dad about being his friend while trying to kill him."

"Daniel?" Vlad gasped. The man pulled back his hood revealing a familiar face made foreign by age. This Danial was clearly an adult, though not a healthy one, gaunt and wary. "But the specter deflector?"

"Let me tell you a story Vlad. It has a sad beginning. Hell, it's sad all around, but the beginning packs a wallop. It start with a freak explosions at a fast food place causing the deaths of Maddie, Jack, and Jasmine Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley. None of whom became ghosts after that. One survivor, who only survived because his half ghost body regenerated the damage, one Danial Fenton."

"Originally the next of kin to take him is was his Aunt Alicia, but since reconnecting with his 'best friend' Jack had wanted it changed to Vlad Masters. Maddie resisted at first, but after Vlad pretended to save Danny from Pariah Dark, again an incident he'd caused in the first place and again lying, she'd agreed."

"But Vlad wasn't as happy to have control of the boy as he once would have been. He'd blamed him for living when his mother hadn't. He wanted the boy to act grateful for even being in his presence when all the boy wanted was to have died with his loved ones. Needless to say it didn't work out. But did you give him to his Aunt? No. You decided you just needed a better version of him. You'd already been working at your cloning experiments, even if they weren't...built to last." He looked a tube containing a small girl sadly. "But you did the thing you did best besides lying. You got greedy."

"I was at your mercy. Obviously you could have harvest my DNA at your leisure and made a perfect clone, but you decided you wanted more. You decided to splice your own DNA in, so it would truly be 'your' son and that's where everything went wrong."

"You're the first halfa Vlad, but you know how first drafts are. Or maybe you don't, I doubt you ever did your own work. First drafts are messy and incomplete. And that's you as a halfa. Twenty years of experience, but Little Me was catching up to you in less that one. He was also good to go without any serious recovery time while you needed years of hospitalization and even then had flare ups. In terms of blending I was mayonnaise, kept stable and homogenous. You were oil and vinegar, constantly trying to separate. That's what the ecto acne was, you know. Not some skin condition like puberty gone wrong. It was your human body trying to purge itself of ghostly contaminants. Trying to reject Plasmius. And maybe you'd be healthier if you let it."

"But back to the point. You were an imperfect halfa. And you passed that along to the clones you made with your DNA. They failed even faster and you decided the solution was more power. You used me as a battery, draining my ectoplasm into your creation, damaging my body so much I can't create more. You essentially made me human again Vlad. But it still wasn't enough. And you decided it couldn't need much more, so you decided to transfer a bit of your own, only for your creation to take all of it."

"I guess credit where credit it due, you cured my death wish. I lived. I escaped and warned people. They didn't believe me of course. Thought I was mad with grief, especially Val. Until the attacks started. I don't know what the fuck you made with our combined DNA, but whatever it was it had both our memories and neither of our moral compasses, or at least any you pretend to have. It fed off death. And no one was ready for it. For a while I was imprisoned because it would pretend to be me and as such I was deemed a risk. But time helped that. I aged and it didn't. It's human form would always be 14 year old Danny Fenton while it's ghost form was a horrible amalgamation of us. It killed. It destroyed. Anything we did to keep it out it would eventually overpower. Until we decided to game the system."

"Time travel, Vlad. Remove the triggering incident. But not even Clockwork can change things all willy nilly. But what he did was seed things in the past to make the Observants of then panic and order him to fix it. Of course they did it by ordering my death, so Clocky had to work around that. Prove Little Me was worth the chance. Little Me ended up in my time and guess what you did Vlad? Can you guess? You lied again. Made up a whole sob story of how you were just trying to help me with my grief by surgically removing my ghost half and how my ghost half then attacked and stole yours and you'd spent all those years trying to fix it. And he believed you. He's burdened with guilt for a time that never happened and believes you're capable of changing and deserve a second chance. Your lies always work, don't they. But I know better. You can't lie to me, not anymore."

"But I'm not going to kill you Vlad, do you know why?"

"Because you're Daniel. I'm sure you're telling yourself something about how I'll suffer more alive, but the truth is you just can't bring yourself to do something like cold blooded killing." Vlad sneered.

"Wrong. You have no idea what I had to do to survive the hell you made." Danial smiled. "I just respect dibs."

"What? OW!" Vlad's body spasmed as something was forcefully injected into it. He looked up behind him and saw an older version of Valerie Grey, twirling a pressure injector, almost exactly like the ones he used to treat his symptoms when they reoccurred. (The scheming part of his brain realizing that would mean it wouldn't raise any alarms if marks from it were found on his body)

"A little compound based on one of the Fenton's projects. I strengthens ectoplasm and makes it stronger. It would be a real boost for past Danny or any other ghost. But for you? Well, your human form was barely holding it together with the ectoplasm you had."

Vlad whimpered, feeling the bubbling under his skin he recognized from his ectoacne only a hundred times worse.

"Goodbye Vlad." Valerie uncaringly stepped over his dying form and wrapped her arms around Danny, the two joining in a kiss.

"It worked." There was joy in Danny's voice for the first time in along time. "It really worked Val. The future, our loved ones, they're safe."

"They are." Valerie smiled down on him. "So we doing this?"

"Yeah. It's selfish, but I think we've both earned a little selfish." Danny pulled a USB and stuck it in Vlad's computer, Mikey's code rewriting several things. "There we go, edited to include another clone of me and one of you."

"How long are we going to have to be in those tube?" Val wrinkled her nose a little.

"Not long. The evidence we dropped off should get the investigation here in less than a day. Also I missed seeing you with long hair."

"It wasn't practical." Valerie grinned. "But Little You saw me with the buzzcut so I had to grow it back." Thankfully with all the wonders of the Infinite Realms, something to instantly grow hair was downright mundane and something Clockwork had been happy to maintain the timeline.

The story now was the story that had to be. If the Observants discovered they were manipulated they might undo their undo. But Vlad had to be handled and with the narrative the Observants had gotten they wouldn't do it themselves.

(Valerie had actually ranted about this, about how even in the lie Vlad had spun the Monster was half him, But the Observants had put all the blame on the mourning 14 year old. Typical.) The 'responsible' thing would be to let themselves fade from the timeline. Or barring that disappearing and starting new. But as Danny had said, they'd earned a bit of selfishness.

If they posed as clones of their past selves there was a chance their families would be contacted and taken in. It was a gamble. Maybe the authorities they'd contacted would destroy them or turn them over to the GiW. Maybe the Fentons or Damian Grey would see them as a violation of their children and reject them. But they'd take the gamble. It wasn't any worse than the one they'd just taken to save the future. And besides, their younger selves needed all thee help they could get

Sure Danny didn't have powers anymore, but he had the experience fighting his younger self had lacked. If everything worked out, not even Pariah Dark would have a chance against two Danny's working together.

~~~~

Future Danny, Valerie, and Clockwork: We'll seed these images to the Observants so they know all they have to do to save the future is prevent the explosion

Observants: Naturally there's only one way to fix this, KILL THE CHILD

Future Danny, Valerie, and Clockwork: *facepalm*

#Danny Phantom #Ghost Writing #Again #born of my age old 'why are we trusting Vlad's narrative' problem with Ultimate Enemy #Dunno if I'll ever write more of this but if so the name of the Au is #Better Left Unsaid

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occatorcreator · 9 months ago

Text

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

3 - Friendship Forged

After the battle, Red, Yellow, Blue, and Green make friends with Purple, in spite of Purple's own doubts getting the better of him.

One of the villagers insisted that Red stay for a check up.

“If what you describe to me is true,” they told Purple, “then there may be possible side effects of her possession. I’d like to make sure she’s fit to go home.”

“Fine then,” Purple said, but struggled to hide his grumbling, “but don’t blame me if these ‘guests’ don’t wish to stay.”

“Oh, please, when they see the welcome feast we’re preparing, they’ll want to stay!” The villager said, nodding.

“Feast?” Purple echoed, “hold on, what’s this about a feast?”

“To celebrate your victory over Herobrine and the Wither!”

As the villager predicted, the stick figures were more willing to stay with the prospect of a large meal. It took some convincing to let the Villagers take Red away for a check up.

“Relax, my villagers mean you no harm,” Purple said.

“I know,” Blue said. She lingered by the window, leaning to look inside the hut. “I just hope they don’t discover something else wrong.”

“Hovering won’t help,” Yellow said, patting Blue’s shoulder. They glanced at Purple. “Say, uh, Purple was it? Do you mind if we help with the cooking?”

“Knock yourselves out,” Purple said, waving dismissively.

Yellow smiled and bowed. “Thanks! Come on, Blue!” Yellow held Blue by the shoulders and ushered her away from the window.

Only Green remained, fiddling with the Minecraft icon.

“Don’t you want to join them?” Purple asked.

“In a bit. I’m just thinking how we’re going to get home given that portal is knocked out,” Green said. He looked around in case the villagers listened in. “You know that creature is still out there?”

“You mean the Wither? I’m well aware of that,” Purple huffed, “give it some time, it probably will float off in the Nether elsewhere. It’s a large place.”

Green shot Purple a skeptical look. Purple kept his face as neutral as possible to appear firm.

“Plus, if that way is blocked for you,” Purple said, “then I can show you how to use that block to make a portal home.”

Green regarded the icon in his hands nervously, eyes flicking to the window.

“And I’m certain that the spirit that possessed her has been purged from it,” Purple said, “just hold onto the icon for her if you’re still worried about it.”

Green’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he smiled at Purple.

“Thank you, for everything,” Green said.

“Don’t mention it,” Purple said, head lifting as he basked in the gratitude of a fellow stick figure around his age. He forgot how nice that feeling was.

“So!” Green put the Minecraft icon away. “How did you make this place? Or did the Minecraft people make these?”

“You mean the villagers?” Purple asked, finding himself smirking. “This was a joint effort between me and them, though my castle was…”

And, like that, he found himself just chatting nonstop as he led Green through a tour of the village. Talking was rather easy, much to Purple’s surprise. He felt like a wise sage, imparting knowledge to a curious and willing pupil. Green wasn’t the only one with questions; they ran into Blue and Yellow while cooking, and they too decided to follow Purple around with their own set of questions.

Purple quickly learned that these three had developed preferences in the single day they had played Minecraft. Green had a keen eye for design and building, offering way too many suggestions to improve Purple’s buildings. Blue favored farming and cooking and really wished to learn about potions, while Yellow took to redstone and suggested helpful contraptions for the village. They were earnest, sheltered, and nothing like the jaded teens at school.

I wonder if these dorks could even survive high school, Purple thought in amusement.

It did leave the question about what Red would be interested in, had she not been possessed. And with thoughts returned to their friend, the three became anxious.

“I’m sure they’re done by now,” Purple said, leading them back toward the direction of the hut.

As they retraced their steps, they spotted Red in the middle of a crude animal pen, petting the cows and the pigs.

“Aw, these ones are so cute,” she cooed. She looked toward an empty space, grinning as if she was looking at someone. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“Um, who is she talking to?” Yellow asked, scratching his head.

“Spirits,” the villager beside the gate said, “or what she believes to be spirits.”

“Excuse me? She’s hallucinating?” Green balked so loudly that it startled Red.

“Hallucinating?” She repeated, looking worryingly from her friends to the empty air.

“Oh, don’t fret about it. Side effects are to be expected after a possession from Herobrine, and luckily this one is minor,” the villager said. They went up to Red with a metal bucket. They milked a cow and gave the bucket to Red. “Take a regiment of 3 buckets of milk daily for a week, and the symptoms should fade.”

Red looked down at the bucket, frowning.

“And if seeing spirits still persists after that, come see me again,” the villager added, patting her back. “And no skipping a dosage, got it?”

“We’ll hold her to it,” Blue said.

The group left Purple’s side to crowd around Red, chittering and asking of her health. Purple gave them some distance, but couldn’t help but listen in.

Spirits, huh, Purple thought, I didn’t see any online guides mentioning that. I heard of Herobrine, but he wasn’t in the game, not really. Did Alana mod the game?

His chest tightened at the thought. If something could be added to the game that could make people see “ghosts”, then why couldn’t someone add a way to stop aging?

Purple’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a caldron being hit.

“Soup’s on!” A villager shouted, “Eat up!”

“Oh boy, I’m starving!” Red said. She gave the cow one last head pat before vaulting over the fence. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

“Not fair! You're cheating!” Green exclaimed and, with a burst of energy, he, Yellow, and Blue came running after her in an impromptu race.

She got her good cheer back quickly, Purple thought, blinking as he walked up the stairs after them. A dining table was constructed in the center during the cooking, filled with all the Minecraft dishes available. Of course the villagers made nice color-coded seats for their guests of honor, with a throne at the end for Purple.

Purple, trying to shake the creeping funk that threatened to ruin the mood, strutted to his spot and sat down with Green and Blue at his right and Red and Yellow at his left. Villagers took their own seats further down, passing bowls around.

“Wow, these are so good!” Red exclaimed as she took a bite of bread.

“Yeah, you were missing out from the tour earlier,” Blue said, “Purple’s got a nice place!”

“Lord Purple,” a villager shouted, “could you and your guests tell us all about your battle today?”

Purple took a sip of water and nodded. “Well, I was going into the Nether to collect some… resources, when I heard a sound…”

From there, the group partook in stories, questions, and then just silly jokes and anecdotes. Purple quickly learned that Red was the clown of the group, quick to make a pun and run her mouth. She had a soft spot for the animals too, avoiding most of the meats aside from fish upon reading its descriptions.

The conversation was lively and Purple found himself chuckling at some of their antics.

“You gotta teach me potion making!” Blue said as Purple corked open another water bottle.

“Maybe next time,” Purple promised. He raised his glass. “A toast then?”

The others raised their glasses.

“To a new friendship!”

The four beamed back at him.

“‘To a new friendship!’” They shouted in unison, clinking their glasses together.

This was nice. Pleasant. For the first time in a long while, Purple felt truly joyful.

I could lead them on adventures and teach them all the tricks I’ve learned, he thought. Their curiosity and joy of the game, despite the harrowing ordeal, was infectious, and Purple wanted to recapture that feeling again. Just like when he and mom were building the castle and —

“Be grateful you never met him. He’d be horrible to you too.”

Chestnut’s words came to mind without warning. Like a thunderstrike, his good mood vanished in a puff of smoke so painful and sudden that it startled him. He froze, the scene before him slowing to a crawl and forcing him to observe it with fresh eyes. Delicious food turned to ash in his mouth and looked just as appetizing. The festive crowd turned from bubbly to oppressive and noisy.

The stick figures smiled and laughed with each other as they toasted, but Purple now found their laughter annoying and smiles too wide. When Green looked at Purple and saw the visible change of mood, his smile faded.

“You alright?”

No, Purple scowled at Green’s concern.

Out loud he said. “I’m tired,” he said, “I need to retire for the night.”

He left the table, pushing past the villagers coming by with more food.

“Lord Purple?”

“Purple, wait!” Green called out.

“I’m not in the mood. I’m tired,” Purple hissed. And it was true. It was like he was drained of battery. His limbs were stiff, and inventory items weighed him down with every step.

How could he partake in joy like this? How could he deserve to have good meals when his mother will never eat with him ever again? How could he be proud of his accomplishments when was too weak to fight Red’s possession the “proper” way? How could he bother to make friends with them when all his friendships crumble to dust in the end?

“But, we need to go home, remember?” Green pointed out.

“Unless you want them to stay the night?” a villager added, unhelpfully.

Right, Purple did not want them to stay. He marched back and stuck his hand out to Green for the Minecraft icon. He climbed to a distant spot from his castle and made the portal frame, lit it, and tossed the icon back to Green.

“When you enter, you need to make another portal in this formation,” Purple said, “when you do, light the frame just like I showed you, and it will take you to where you need to go. Now, if you don’t mind.”

He marched past Green and Red, ignoring how the group stared at him as he retreated to his throne room.

Just get away. Get away.

When he collapsed on his bed, he instantly fell into a dreamless sleep.

“Lord Purple?”

Purple groaned and waved the villager away.

“Let your lord sleep,” he grumbled, turning away.

“My lord, you’ve been holed up in your castle for a month,” the villager said, “and we haven’t seen much of you. You’ve not fallen ill, have you?”

“‘m not sick,” Purple said, “I’m just tired.”

“You’ve been tired for a very long time.”

Purple buried his head in the pillow, feeling terrible. It wasn’t like the villagers were wrong; this was the worst fugue he experienced since his mother’s burial. The sour end to the feast with those stick figures ended up coinciding with his birthday week. The realization that he was another year older, with only himself and a bunch of video game NPCs to celebrate it, left him with no energy to leave his bed. His mother wouldn’t be there to see him, to share gifts and spend time with him. He had no friends his age to invite, and thinking of those stick figures he met only hammered in how absolutely alone he was.

As such, he spent his birthday laying in bed, crying. He knew he was breaking his promise to his mother to take care of himself, but how could he keep going knowing he had a future of more lonely birthdays and solitary holidays?

What's the point of trying anymore, Purple thought, if I am always going to feel this way?

“You also have visitors here,” the villager cut through his ruminating thoughts, “They want to see you.”

That got Purple to pull himself up from his bed. It was most slow and painful, as his fatigued body struggled to prop himself up. He shot a confused look at the villager.

“Who’d be visiting me at this hour?”

The villager quirked an eyebrow in return. “Your friends from the Wither battle.”

“Wait, they came to visit?” Purple asked, eyes widening further as he straightened up.

As if on queue, the door to his chambers knocked wildly.

“Hey, Purple, it’s us!”

Purple let out a groan, recognizing Green’s chipper voice.

Why are they back? He thought, covering his eyes, it’s been a month! I thought they'd forgotten about me…

“Can you send them away?” Purple groaned.

“I will try,” the villager sounded unsure. Purple heard them walk back, opening the door, only for the door to be slammed open as the gang burst through the door.

“The hell?” Purple jumped to his feet, shocked to find his poor villager flattened by the doorframe and four eager stick figures crowding before him.

“Rise and shine!” Red greeted, waving.

“What are you all doing here?” Purple snapped. He didn’t care for decorum at the moment, all he felt was irritation at the sight of their chipper faces.

They at least looked sheepish about their intrusion.

“Well, we wanted to follow up on you,” Yellow pointed out. “Sorry we took so long! We tried earlier, but your villagers said you were too sick for visitors.”

“We sent them a soup recipe for you!” Red said “Did you like it?”

Purple nodded even though he didn’t know what either of them was talking about. The month cooped up in the castle was a blur, and he had no memory of them visiting or eating any soup. Or much of anything, come to think of it.

“Plus, you said you’ll teach us how to brew potions,” Blue said, continuing on, “remember?”

“Yes, but,” Purple started, “it’s been awhile…?”

“I know. We would have visited a little more,” Green said, “but now we’re here. And you’re…” he paused as he actually took a good look at Purple and his room. “…feeling better, I hope?”

Purple shrugged. “Sort of,” he grumbled, “but I can’t teach you today.”

“Are you still under the weather?” Red asked, having the gall to sound so down. All four visibly deflated, their eagerness fading into sadness and concern.

The sight of it made Purple both rankle from and clamor for their attention. A dual desire for their concern twisted and tumbled with the urge to be left alone to continue sleeping. He really didn’t know which he should follow.

“I’m not sick anymore, really. It’s more so that I’m… out of supplies,” he lied, “I didn’t get any time to stock up. Given that I was in bed for a good while.”

To that, they perked up. Green grinned widely at Purple. “We could get you some!”

Wow, Green just offered a nice way to get them off his back, but he did still need to play it up.

Purple turned away, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to do that, it’s such a long list,” he exaggerated.

“No problem!” Yellow said, “I bet you could give us 100 items and we’d get it all to you in under ten minutes.”

“Is that so?” Purple remembered their conversations and his observations. These four were rather competitive; they loved to boast and heckle. Oh, this would be very easy.

“Very well, I bet I can add a little incentive,” he said, pulling out his list of potion ingredients from a chest nearby his bed. “This is what I need. The first one to come back here with all the items on this list will be the lucky one I tutor in the secret art of potion brewing.”

There it was, the manic look in each and everyone of them. These were sticks determined to win.

“Got it memorized?”

The group nodded in unison.

“Then chop chop, timer’s ticking,” Purple said, clapping.

At that they proceeded to scramble out the door with shocking violence. Yellow and Green were elbowing each other out the door, while Blue sharply shoved Red into the villager just as they pried themselves free of the door.

“Sorry!” Red bowed before tearing off, “I’ll get you for this Blue!”

There, Purple thought, dusting his hands and laying back on his pillow, gets them out of my hair for a bit.

“Here’s everything!”

Blue dumped a bunch of potion ingredients. Given that Purple’s inventory was full, the items piled on him, floating, but the sound of her entrance shocked him out of his doze.

“Uh? Huh?” Purple blinked, looking around for the others. “How did you-?”

“I may have pulled some tricks on my opponents,” Blue said, rubbing her arm bashfully. “Honorably, of course!”

“Honorable trickery?” Purple said, eying each item. “That’s an oxymoron.”

“Look, if I happened to dare Red to tame a wild horse or ask Yellow what he would make with glowstone dust,” Blue said, “it’s not my fault they got distracted and wasted their time elsewhere.”

The sour mood eased as he smirked at Blue for her cunning. How unexpectedly sly! Maybe he was too quick to brush them off earlier.

“And what of Green?”

To that Blue paused, looking rather embarrassed. “I told him he forgot to grab ender pearls for the ingredient list,” she said.

“Lying?” Purple let out an exaggerated gasp of horror. “Color me shocked, I didn’t think that would qualify as an ‘honorable trick.’”

“Yeah, but-”

“I knew you were full of it!” Green snapped, appearing suddenly. He marched up, pointing a finger at Blue while looking heavily bruised, no doubt from his scraps with angry Endermen.

“What? I thought it was true!” Blue whistled.

“Bullcrap!” Green tossed his stuff down. “Purple, you can’t let this cheat get the win!”

“I dunno,” Purple said, “I didn’t give any rules on how you were to get it, just to get it.”

Green gave the most amusing irritated reaction. Purple needed to stifle the laughter bubbling in his throat.

But then, Green’s shock turned to scrutiny, then into a smug smile.

“Well, she can’t win anyways,” Green said, pointing at the pile, “there’s no nethwart!”

“What?” Blue sifted through the pile and sure enough, no netherwart. “But I collected it- oh no!”

She gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.

“What?” Purple asked.

Of all the things Blue said next, Purple wasn’t prepared for it.

“I ate it all!”

“You what?” Green shouted.

But Purple couldn’t speak, for he fell off his bed and onto the floor cackling.

Purple didn’t know how these four stick figures wormed their way into his life, but they managed to carve a space, bit by bit.

At first it was only a once a month visit. Sometimes, they bumped into each other while out in the Minecraft world; other times, they showed up randomly on Purple’s desktop. Then it became every two weeks. Then once a week.

Alana quickly caught wind of new stick figures visiting her desktop unannounced, and she was annoyed with Purple. She instated a rule that visits were to be strictly over the weekends and that they were not to touch her files. The gang were amenable to this and ended up visiting Saturday or Sunday to meet up, trade with the villagers, and play with Purple on the desktop.

One day, Purple was invited to visit the color gang’s computer. It was initially to judge some impromptu build completion, but ever since, Purple ended up visiting their desktop every Wednesday to hang out or play games. Windows was a different experience than Purple’s Mac. For one, their Animator, aka Alan Becker, was more present on the computer than Alana was, but he was fine with Purple visiting whenever he felt like. Sometimes he joined in their play, other times he just kept to himself and didn’t bother them much.

It took a long time for Purple to admit this to himself, but he was glad that he became friends with Red, Blue, Green and Yellow.

That didn’t mean it was all sunshine and roses.

The four were hyper competitive and loved to fight. Way too much, in Purple’s opinion. They got up in arms over such little things. Even Blue, who opted for taking a peaceful approach when possible, was quick to join in a fray. Purple found himself either stomping out potential skirmishes or letting them tussle it out of their system. Purple wondered if Navy had met them, would he try to coax him to be more like his friends?

The thought of their similarities to Navy plagued him. It didn’t help that of the four, he and Green got into a lot of frequent clashes when they were out adventuring. Green seemed to be a de facto leader of the group, and haughty. Purple found Green the most vexing; some days he went along with Purple’s ideas, and other times Green wouldn’t stop nitpicking them.

And Purple learned the hard way that if Green was crossed enough, he would raise a sword against him.

They were in the middle of making a build, Purple and Green already started with an argument on either building a pagoda or a castle. When neither could settle the dispute, Blue suggested building on the castle on one side and the pagoda on the other. That worked for a bit, until Purple discovered that Green’s castle cut on his side where his pagoda should be. Purple tried to mine down the walls to make room, causing Green to come by to stop him. They argued and argued, only stopping when Green pointed his sword at Purple.

“Green! No!” Blue scolded, forcing Green’s arm down. Purple could see Green’s arm strain, glare not leaving Purple’s for a moment.

How that glare reminded him of Navy…

“That’s it, we’re done here,” Purple said, dropping his materials and marching away.

“Wait, where’re you going?” Red asked as Purple pushed past her.

“Home. And don’t bother coming this weekend or any other weekend after that,” Purple snapped.

“Wait- why?” Yellow balked.

The question, so simple and yet so stupid that Purple had to stop and look back at them.

“Why? You raise a sword at me and ask me why?” Purple yelled, “I’m not going to be friends with people who’ll raise a sword against me over a stupid build!”

The gang looked between him and the others in complete horror and shock. Green stared at his sword, slowly blinking as though it had only occurred to him what he had done.

“But… fighting is part of the game!” Red said. “I mean, we’ve fought with swords before, and you weren’t bothered by that?”

“I WAS bothered!” Purple said, “You have no idea how much it bothers me with how violent you all get! You guys are on the cusp of violence half the time, and it’s scary!”

Red, Blue, and Yellow exchanged an unreadable look. Then, Blue tentatively stepped up, hands clasped.

“Why didn’t you let us know that it bothered you before?”

“It was obvious!” Purple snapped, stomping the ground. He deflated a bit when he saw Blue flinch back. “It was.”

There was a beat of silence before Blue continued. “We didn’t notice, honest! I know we’re easy to rile up, but if you told us that this bothered you so much we’d try harder to do better.” She rubbed her arm. “We probably could have avoided this if you had.”

“Plus, don’t let yourself off the hook,” Yellow added, “I mean, you kept riling up Green over this build instead of dropping it, and talking over him whenever he said anything.”

Purple rankled and pointed a finger at Yellow. “So? That doesn’t mean I deserve to have a sword pointed at me!”

“I’m not saying that,” Yellow said, raising his hands in defense. “I'm just being honest about how I feel- you dislike how we fight each other, and I dislike that you aren't clear about how you feel. It didn’t need to come to this point.”

“We’re your friends,” Red said, though with a questioning lift to her tone, “surely you should feel safe enough to tell us these things?”

No, I don’t, Purple thought, but he couldn’t get himself to say it out loud. He hated that, right now, he was proving them right. Hated that he always felt the need to clam up and hide his true feelings. Hated that he was being put on the spot. Hated how nervous and hurt they looked when he kept saying nothing.

He looked to Green, who had not said a word the entire time. Green stared down at his sword, muted and contemplating. When he looked up to see Purple’s gaze on him, he let out a nervous sigh and dropped the sword to the ground. The others turned to him upon hearing the clatter.

“Green?” Blue asked, but Green didn’t say anything. Very slowly he walked up to Purple, stopping only when Purple felt his foot move a step back.

“I’m sorry,” Green said, “I let my temper get the better of me. I shouldn’t have raised my sword at you over an argument over a build.”

Purple looked down at their feet. “You are aware that could have hurt me,” he said, quietly, “Killed me if you were careless.”

“I-” Green blanched, “No, I didn’t think of that. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry I didn’t know our fighting bothered you that much.”

Purple looked down at Green. His eyes were hidden, and his normally confident stance subdued and ashamed. Whatever vindictive thought Purple had about leaving or telling him off vanished.

I don’t want to be like my mom, making excuses for Navy, Purple thought, but I’m not doing myself a favor in ditching them.

He should give them a second chance.

“And Green? I’m sorry too, for not explaining how I felt earlier,” Purple said, looking at Blue, Red, and Yellow too, “let me be honest now: I don’t want you to fight like that. Swords and TNT shouldn’t be drawn or thrown over something as trivial as builds. I don’t want to ever feel like I’m going to get hurt if I did something wrong.”

“We will work on that, starting right now,” Yellow stepped up, “No matter how difficult it is, we’ll do better! We won’t fight like that again.”

“Promise?” Purple asked.

Yellow nodded and Blue stepped up. “Yeah, we promise.”

“But you’ll need to give us grace,” Red said, “We like sparring, but we’ll spar only when it’s appropriate- not when we’re angry.”

“Well, a spar’s different than a fight,” Purple said, “I just… I’ve seen what fighting like that leads to, arguments and fists.” His head drifted down. “It hurts people more than you think.”

It was the closest to voicing his mother and father’s whole affair to them. He should tell them, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“Then, can we still hang out?” Green asked. He blinked rapidly, and Purple saw tears forming.

Purple looked down at Green, acknowledging the hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Purple nodded and opened his arms for a hug. “See you on Saturday.”

He wasn’t prepared to be ensnared in a group hug as the others joined Green in hugging them, but their embrace felt comforting if a bit tight.

I just hope I’m not repeating my mom’s mistake.

#occatorart #alan becker #animator vs animation #animator vs minecraft #second family au #ava purple #ava green #ava red #ava blue #ava yellow

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