#when the whole fight area got clouded up with fog and all you could see are the abyss spawns

[chucapybara]

can i just talk about how i was NOT expecting that gosoythoth boss fight to have that one eerily similar concept i had for innamorati's boss fight

[divine-knight-hand]

Mining Pains (Haley x Reader)

Haley Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Wife!Haley x Female Farmer!Reader

Summary: After reaching level forty-five of the mines, it’s time for Pelican Town’s favorite farmer to fight for the safety of her wife, Haley.

Warnings: Slight gore (Nothing too scary, tho), a teensy bit of angst, and fluff all the way.

Word count: 3,182

Dividers by @cute-sushi-roll

“Haley, I would really prefer if you were back home, where it’s safe.” I insisted. As much as I enjoyed my wife’s company in the mines, I’d never brought her past level forty, and we were currently on level forty-four. I was wary enough going this deep into the mine system on my own. Bringing Haley with me would be a whole other battle.

Usually, I brought her along with me when I needed to grab basic materials like stone, coal, or copper for the farm. I would gather these while fighting off monsters, and Haley would hold torches in the darker areas of the mines, sometimes wielding a slingshot when things got a little hairy.

This time, Clint asked me to gather some iron for his tool upgrade service. I obliged, and Haley was more than eager to insist on coming with me. Being the pushover that I was when it came to making my wife happy, I reluctantly agreed.

I donned black overalls over a long-sleeve red sweater, with thick brown boots. Haley wore a long-sleeve light blue sweater with her favorite pink skirt over a pair of light blue leggings, with some pink sneakers.

With our outfits picked out, and our spelunking gear gathered, we headed into the mines by Robin’s house, and It was only by sheer luck that we hadn’t run into anything intense yet.

She spoke up as we approached the ladder down to the next level, “Don’t worry about me, honey. I want to help you. Besides, it’s like an adventure!” She squealed on the last sentence, clearly excited.

Once we made it down the ladder, I felt a small wave of relief at the sight of the elevator, accompanied by its usual light-hearted ding, as if it was happy to see me, too.

Haley skipped ahead, “How much iron did Clint ask for, anyways? Do you think he needs a lot?”

I paused to check my backpack. Clint asked for five iron bars. So far, we only had enough iron to make three.

I sighed to myself and responded, “Just a little more. We shouldn’t be too much longer.”

We advanced deeper into the cavern. The air was still and dank, untouched by the crisp winds above surface level. I would have considered this place serene, had these walls not housed some of the deadliest monsters in Pelican Town.

“AH!” Haley’s scream snapped me out of my thoughts. I realized that I fell behind as we walked, and I rushed over to where Haley fumbled for her slingshot, nervously shuffling away from a small green slime.

I chuckled, my heart slowing back to a normal pace as I drew my sword and slayed it in one slash. Me and Haley then both jumped back to avoid the resulting splash of green slime.

“Yuck.” Haley stared down at the slime spattered against the floor, “That was a close one…”

“You’re telling me.” I sheathed my sword before approaching her and placing my hands on her shoulders, “I assume this means you’re okay, then?”

Haley smiled at me, “Yes, honey. I’m okay. I promise.” She leaned forward until our foreheads touched.

I closed my eyes and sighed, “If you say so… but I’d still like to take you home.”

I felt her arms snake their way around my waist, “Don’t worry about me. Please.”

My eyes fluttered open and I could see that hers were still closed, like she was waiting for something. She was waiting for me.

I traced my thumb along her jaw, feeling her shudder under my touch, “Haley…” I breathed.

Suddenly, a wispy blue fog slowly rolled in to cloud the air around us, and I heard a distant squeaking. Damnit!

Haley felt me freeze and her eyes flew open, “What’s going on? Are you- AHHHHHH! BEHIND YOU!” We jumped apart and I turned to see a swarm of bats flying straight toward us, the squeaking sounds growing in volume as they neared us.

I turned back to Haley and grabbed her shoulders, slightly shaking her to emphasize my next command, “Haley. Elevator. Now. Go!”

She quickly nodded and I let go of her so we could run to the elevator. I instantly regretted my choice of shoes. Though my boots were great for crossing rocky terrain, they were also heavy and slowed me down significantly. Haley, who made the smarter choice of a light pair of sneakers, sped ahead.

I looked over my shoulder to see the swarm gaining on me. Damnit! When I turned to look back ahead, I saw Haley reach the elevator and turn back to me, fear etched into her features as she saw that I still had ground to cover. I knew then that if she waited until I made it into the elevator to close the door, we’d be stuck with a bat-filled ride to the surface. That would have been less than ideal. I had one idea left to keep her completely safe.

“Close the door!” I shouted as I slowed to a walk.

“What?!” Haley went pale in the face, “Are you crazy?!”

“Just close it!” I repeated.

Haley shifted with discomfort, “But-”

“CLOSE IT!” I roared. I never really liked yelling at her, but this was really important. I had to get her to listen.

Haley jumped at my shout, looking a little sad before finally obliging and closing the elevator door. It was all up to me now.

I quickly turned and unsheathed my sword, ready to take on the giant ominous swarm that approached me. Here goes nothing.

I flicked my sword in a quick circle before swiping at the mob in front of me. Three bats drew back and squeaked in pain. The rest of the swarm approached me, some coming at me from the side. I quickly dodged backward before lunging at the mob in front of me. I nailed two more bats before one of them snuck behind me and bit my arm.

I let out a yelp, more out of frustration than pain, and smacked it away with my hand, stomping it into the ground when it fell. Those few seconds were all the swarm needed to distract me before they saw an opportunity to swoop in and strike.

Three bats bit and clawed at my other arm, the one I was holding my sword with. I dropped it in surprise, giving three more an opportunity to attack my left side.

All I saw was a blur of black, accompanied by the occasional pair of red eyes. One scratched my cheek. Several bit my legs. I groaned and fell to the floor, unaware of how bad my injuries were or how much I was bleeding out.

The bites were so deep, I felt a jolt of pain blast through my body with each one. As the bats grew bolder, the bites and scratches grew more frequent.

I desperately looked at my sword, lying tantalizingly close to me, yet too far to be of any actual use to me. I strained against the bats to reach for it, only to receive more bites and scratches on my outstretched hand.

Tears sprung to my eyes as the stinging sensations continued to grow in intensity. I began to feel dizzy, almost unable to focus on anything. The squeaks were deafening in my ears. I struggled through blurry vision as the black blobs continued to bite and scratch me.

“Come on.” I softly coaxed myself as I began dragging myself toward my sword. The bats must have sensed my newfound determination, because their bites and scratches began assailing me with more speed than ever before.

I gritted my teeth against the pain and kept pushing myself, moving closer to my sword. I was finally able to grab the handle, and I picked up my sword to turn it against the attacking swarm.

I slashed against the swarm, scaring them back long enough to be able to rise unsteadily to my feet. Once I somewhat gained my footing, I continued attacking the bats, and they began dropping like flies. Some kept trying to sneak up on me from behind, but I saw them and was able to turn and slash them each time.

Finally, I defeated the last bat, and I sat in the newfound silence of the cavernous room around me. The fog rolled away, leaving me in the middle of the carnage I created. After fighting what felt like a million bats, only about eight corpses lay around me.

I hissed at the sudden jolt of pain in my body and looked down. My outfit had numerous tears all over it, decorated in between tears with blood and dirt, and I was actively bleeding from places that I often overlooked on normal days. My head swam, and I fell to my knees before crawling toward the elevator, still dizzy from battle.

“Haley…” I groaned, “Haley… It’s safe now.”

The door opened and I heard her audibly gasp, “Oh my Yoba! What happened?!” She helped me into the elevator, an action that ignited the pain all over me again. I couldn’t help but let out a loud groan, “We have to get you to Harvey.”

I leaned my head against the cool wall of the elevator as she pressed the level zero button, “It’s late. He’s closed…”

“Trust me.” Haley insisted as the doors closed, “I think he’ll take this emergency call.” The elevator began to move and she crouched over me, “Where does it hurt?”

I looked into her eyes, willing myself not to drown in the ocean blue as I groaned, “Everywhere…”

The sad look returned to her eyes, “This looks really bad. I don’t think I can walk you to the hospital like this.”

I raised my hand and cupped it against her cheek, “Haley…”

She held my hand and I winced as a stinging sensation came alive in it. I then watched as Haley slid my backpack off my shoulders and dug inside.

“A-ha!” She pulled out a roll of gauze and got to work on my overalls, quickly dropping them around my hips before raising my shirt over my arms. Her resulting gasp bounced around in the small elevator.

I looked down to see that I looked a lot worse off underneath my clothes. My bra somehow remained intact, but blood oozed out of all the bite and scratch marks that covered me. I shuddered as the cold air brushed against my skin. It almost relieved the pain. Almost.

“Hold still.” Haley began wrapping my arm in gauze, “Hopefully, this should slow your bleeding until we can get to Harvey.” She shifted to begin wrapping my torso before adding, “I think I saw this in one of those doctor shows, once.”

I chuckled at this before wincing at the motion. All I could do painlessly was watch as my wife poured over me, focus knitting her brows. Damn! She looks sexy when she’s focused.

I accidentally let part of my idea slip out of my mouth, so Haley heard, “Mmn…Sexy…”

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows, “Oh, Yoba! You’re delirious already?!” I wasn’t really concerned. I just wanted her to kiss me… Maybe I was delirious.

She finished wrapping my torso and other arm before helping me back into my clothes, “Sorry! There isn’t enough to do your legs.”

“Sssfine…” I mumbled.

She then helped me to my feet and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and we stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

I leaned against Haley’s body, trying, with extreme difficulty, to keep most of my weight off of her as we left the mines. The sky was dark, but little stars in the sky lit our way through the darkness. All was quiet. All was calm. It was nice.

As we walked, I caught a whiff of something and turned towards Haley to take a deeper sniff. Somehow, the scent of her shampoo survived our trip into the depths.

“Strawberries and cream…” I sighed into her hair.

“I know it’s your favorite shampoo of mine.” She softly giggled as we passed Robin’s house.

A beat of silence passed as we approached the community center. Haley sighed, “I was so worried in there.”

“Hmm?” I stumbled before Haley quickly caught me and we kept moving. My legs hurt so badly. It felt like they were getting pricked and stabbed over and over. I just hoped we were close to the hospital.

“You were defending me while I just stood around doing nothing.” She frowned, “Just shows how useless I am.” I squinted as the darkness and my dizziness worked against my eyes, threatening to hide my wife’s face from me.

We were nearing Pierre’s general store as I tried to reassure her, “No… You’re not…”

We finally made it to the door of the hospital and Haley knocked harshly on the door, “Don’t worry about that now. We’re here.”

I let out a deep sigh, frustrated that my body was giving out, unable to keep up with my mind. It was a miracle I didn’t pass out already, but that wasn’t enough for me. After a heartbeat of silence, Haley knocked again.

“Harvey!” She called, “Harvey! Please, come out!” She knocked again, “Harvey, please!”

I wanted to be able to hold her and reassure her that everything was alright. That I would be fine and that she was the exact opposite of useless. That I appreciated her trying new things with me, helping me on the farm, and even joining me in the mines. I wanted to say that I loved her so much that the idea of not having her around could drive me crazy.

But all I could do was watch as the hospital door slowly cracked open and the edges of my vision slowly went black, “Haley? OH MY YOBA!!!” Harvey’s face contorted with pure shock and horror once his eyes landed on me, “What happened to you two?!”

“I’m fine!” Haley responded, “It’s her! She needs help.” Every voice began to sound like I was listening to it from underwater.

Harvey opened the door and beckoned us inside, “Come in! Let me help.”

The black at the edges of my vision slowly rolled in, and my body began to feel heavy.

“Alm.. th… ay?” Haley said something that was really difficult to hear, “...d on… St’a… ttl… thr…”

All I could do was softly sigh before everything went black.

━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━

When I came to, I found myself on one of the hospital beds. Haley sat next to me, holding my hand. It was bandaged up, along with the rest of my body. Other than the bandages, the only thing covering me was a lightweight blanket.

“You’re awake!” Haley teared up, “I’m so happy!”

“What happened?” I didn’t think I had the strength to bring my voice above a mumble, yet.

“Harvey had to do a blood transfusion.” She brought her other hand to hold mine in both of hers, “But he was struggling to find a match for you.”

A match? Someone in Pelican Town had the same blood type as me? My mind raced, “Who was it?”

“He’s in the other room.” She was dodging the question.

“Haley.” I tried to bring her back on track.

“Harvey’s giving him some cookies and juice to get his energy back up.” Clearly, that didn’t work.

“Haley…” I tried again.

“And Harvey says you should be up and running again in as little as a few days. Isn’t that great?” Damn! She’s persistent.

“Haley, please! Answer the question. Who was my match?”

Haley sighed, “Okay, okay… You matched with Alex.”

WHAT?! I refused to believe it. There was no way Alex would help me. Last time I checked, we didn’t particularly like each other.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Haley started, “But he’s a good person.”

“Color me surprised.” I dryly remarked.

“Forget that,” She dismissed, “Though I expect you to thank him later.”

“I will.” I sighed.

Haley just chuckled to herself, “I know you will. You’re very kind.” I smirked at her before she continued, “You’re very kind to me, at least.” She brushed some of my hair away from my face, “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Haley,” I started, “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!” She frowned, “You got hurt really badly, just for me.”

“I couldn’t bear to live in a world where I let you get hurt.” I pulled her hands up to my face to give them an affectionate kiss, “You mean the world to me, Lee. Remember that.”

“How?” Haley sniffled, tears collecting in her eyes again, “All I’m good for is taking stupid pictures, reading magazines, and going shopping. I’m useless! No, now I’m worse than useless. I’m a burden! How could you love someone like me? How could you risk getting hurt this badly for me? I try helping out in the mines to make myself useful, but look at what I did.” Her tears began spilling over her cheeks, “This is all my fault.”

I decided to take this moment to sit up. I groaned at the pain of the movement, but it wasn’t bad enough to keep me down, “Haley,” I framed her face with my hands, “None of this is your fault. You are precious to me. That’s why I wanted to protect you. By the way, your photos are beautiful. They’re works of art. It’s a wonder they aren’t in one of those magazines you like reading.” She sadly smiled, and I wiped away another tear with my thumb before continuing, “And I would take you shopping an infinite amount of times if it meant getting to see that little sparkle of joy in your eyes when I get you a cute new skirt. You don’t have to earn my love, Lee. You had it from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I pulled her in and kissed her on the cheek before resting my face in the crook of her neck, “You are not a burden. You’re the love of my life. You’re my highest privilege.”

I felt her wrap her arms around me, and it barely hurt when she did, “You really mean that?”

“I do.” I kissed her again, before trailing rapid kisses around her face and neck, breathing in between each one, “I do. I do. I do. I do…”

She softly giggled, “I love you.”

I broke my streak of kisses to look her in her eyes, “I love you, too, Lee. I love you so much.” I kissed her forehead, “The moment I make you believe otherwise is the moment I’ve failed as your wife.”

“Impossible.” She smiled, “You’re the best wife in the world.”

“Thank you,” I smirked, “But I think my wife is a lot cooler than yours.”

A light pink dusted her cheeks as she giggled, “Maybe we can settle for a tie?”

“Maybe.” I held Haley to my chest and we both sighed in content and comfort, “Maybe…”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Changing Room ~ Lee Minho [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

PAIRING: Minhox Idol!Reader 

GENRE: Smut, dom x dom, idol Au, Reader!Idol AU, mentions of blackpink collaboration, spanking, degrading names, pet names, fight for dominance, orgasm denial, edging, squirting, 

A/N: I’m still new to writing for the reader being Dom so I hope that this turns out okay for you!! 

A collaboration with one of the biggest girl kpop groups had been on your list of things to do since forever and now it was finally happening. The screams of fans could be heard all the way in your dressing room which made you a little nervous but nothing you couldn't handle, you'd been an idol for the last four years you were used to going out and performing in front of thousands of people. The door to your changing room opened and there stood Lisa smiling at you as she waited for you to get up and walk with her towards the main stage area. It was the first show of their tour and YG Entertainment decided that they wanted to start the tour off with a big publicity stunt meaning that you and the girls were going to work together and drawer a huge scene to the show. 

"Ready?" Lisa questioned as she looked at you, she could sense how nervous you were about going up onto the stage but she'd seen you perform a million times and she knew that you were going to be perfect. Practising with them had been going perfectly and you were more than ready to make everything as good as it could be and more.

"More than ready," You laughed softly, picking up the black sparkly microphone that the girls had gifted to you and smiled at Lisa who was already linking her arms with yours. All five of you were dressed in all-black outfits, black high waisted shorts with black tops and black thigh-high boots, YG wanted you to look well-presented as one group.

"You remember the choreography?" Rose questioned as she handed you a small bottle of water, walking through the back part of the venue towards the stage where managers were waiting almost as anxiously as you seemed to be.

"It's in my veins," You breathed out as you looked out through a small gap to see how many people were waiting for you all and it was packed. Screaming fans with lightsticks were chanting out the Blackpink fanchant with your name added onto the end, it felt so surreal.

"Someone came to see you," Jennie cooed in your ear as she tickled your sides, turning to look in the direction she was looking you saw Minho standing there, your long-term boyfriend. The two of you had been dating for a while - much to the disapproval of both of your companies - but everything was well hidden and no one besides those on a need-to-know basis knew about the relationship.

"What are you doing here?!" You cried out as you rushed over to him, throwing your arms around his neck as you greeted him with a huge hug. The two of you didn't get to spend a lot of time together so anytime you had was precious to you both. 

"I couldn't let my best girl go up and not let me watch," He chuckled softly as he left a quick kiss on your cheek, pulling away so he could take a look at you. His mouth almost fell open as he finally took in the outfit you were wearing, 

"D-Do you get to keep those boots?" He questioned as he licked his lips, making you groan as you pushed him away playfully. 

"Why? Are they turning you on?" You questioned jokingly only to get Minho nodding which shocked you before you let a smirk reside on your face. 

"Maybe I do," You teased, winking at him playfully before going over to the girls as they got ready to get onto the lifting platform of the stage. 

"Good luck! Knock them dead!" Minho screamed over the stage managers and screaming fans as he watched yo and the girls slowly rise up from the floor and the loud music began to play.

The set for Ddu-du-ddu-du was over and you were taken off the stage, sweating and panting as you made your way over to Minho who was red in the face, blushing from the performance. The whole thing had been kept a secret from him and he had no idea which song was going to be performed nor whose lines you were going to take. 

"Did you enjoy it?" You giggled softly as the stage managers finally left you alone, Minho just grabbed your hand and began dragging you towards your changing room ignoring your questions as to where he was taking you. The whole set had turned him on from seeing you up there and then watching you Perform Jennie's rap which he couldn't help but find sexy. You'd nailed the choreography moving your hips in time to the music, nailing every line and making sure to play up to the sexiness of the theme the girls were going for. 

"Minho?" You questioned as he roughly pushed you against the changing room door, locking it as he began kissing you roughly pulling at the shorts. 

"So needy," You teased as he began kissing down your neck biting and sucking on your skin as you let out small whimpers of pleasure. There was always a power problem in the bedroom with the two of you, he was a dom and you were a switch, always finding yourself in a dominating mood after being on stage. 

"Nuh-uh, I'm the one in control tonight," He told you as he pinned your wrists to the doors roughly biting down on your neck as you tried to push him away. 

"No baby boy, I am." You cooed as you took his face into your hand, running your thumb over his skin as you pushed him down into a sitting position on the sofa. Minho's hands run up your thighs towards your ass but you playfully slapped them away with a smirk on your lips. 

"You're so needy, kissing me like that right after I get off stage...Not even letting me shower first, dirty boy." Minho shook his head as you spoke that way, there was no way he was going to let you be in charge tonight not after watching you perform like that in front of thousands of people. The jealously was too much for him to bear as he thought about everyone that had seen you like this, 

"How about you keep those pretty little boots on and nothing else," He said in a dark tone as he flipped the tables, pinning you down to the sofa while leaving small kisses on your skin as you tried not to let out signs it was affecting you. 

"Where are all those moans? I know how much you love it when I kiss your neck like this." He whispered in your ear, biting down on your lobe a little as he began running his hand down the front of your shorts but you flipped him again. Straddling him as you looked down at him with dark eyes, 

"That's not how it's going to work tonight baby," You ran the palm of your hand over his stomach as you lightly traced your fingertips over his abs.

The two of you continued your power play until all of your clothes were off besides your boots and his boxers, he was glowing a bright red. His back against the back of the sofa while you straddled him, hands either side of his head trapping him against the settee.

"You know you love it when I'm in control," You whispered in his ear as you ground yourself down against his hard cock, you could feel just how hard he was for you through the thin fabric.

"I-I do but it doesn't mean I want that tonight, you deserve a reward for all that hard work," As he said the word hard he pushed his hips up against your core, smirking as he saw your eyes flicker at the pleasure. 

"You know you want me to buried deep inside of you, thrusting so deep you'll cry my name louder than any fans do." He chuckled darkly as he reached his thumb down to begin rubbing your bud in small soft circles, not applying the pressure he knew you so desperately wanted from him. 

"So fucking wet already, such a dirty little slut." He cooed as he kept rubbing, watching your eyes the whole time as you let out breathy whimpers trying to remember what you were doing in the first place but your head was in a fog. A finger was dragged through your folds as he smirked at you, laying you down gently against the sofa as he continued to let his long fingers rub you. 

"So cute how you go from dominating to my little baby in a matter of seconds," He teased as he began to kiss down your body sticking two fingers into you making you arch your back and moan loudly. Cleaning around him already as he kept his fingers deep inside of you,

"Fuck!" You moaned out as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly, kissing your clit as he looked up at you with a smirk playing on his lips.

"F-Fuck Minho," You cried out as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you at a painfully slow pace, curling them to meet the spot you needed him the most while his tongue licked and sucked on your clit as if it was his last meal. Your head was beginning to cloud over as he continued the movements, picking up the pace of his fingers when he felt you clenching around him. 

"FUCK! Minho please-" You begged as you could feel the tightening in your stomach beginning to become too much for you.

"I-I'm gonna cum," You whimpered as you completely gave into him, giving him the power he'd been wanting. You wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer with the heel of your boot digging into him. As you were about to ride out your high he completely stopped his actions, ripping his fingers out of you and pulled his mouth away leaving you throbbing and whining. 

"Minho! What the fuck?!" You cried out as you looked at him, his eyes were darkened as he pumped himself in his hand but you hissed at him. Pushing him into a sitting position on the sofa before straddling him once again, 

"Has the little lady been teased too much? So close and yet so- Ugh God," He moaned out as you sank down onto him all of the way, moaning out as you rolled your head back. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you kept yourself down on top of him, whimpering out as your pussy clenched and throbbed around him from the orgasm you had been denied.

"Think it's funny, making a girl almost cum and ripping it away?" You bit down on his neck sucking softly not hard enough to leave a mark, his hands found their way to your hips and he attempted to move you but you kept yourself still. Enjoying the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as he let out small hisses and moans, 

"M-move, don't just sit there." He whispered as he tried to get you to move only for you to slowly lift yourself up so only the tip was inside of you, sinking slowly back down while maintaining eye contact with him. Something you knew drove him over the edge when you were the one in control of things, he bit down on his lip as he let out a small moan. 

"Look at you...Now, who's the needy one?" You questioned as you repeated your actions, moaning out at the slowness of it all.

"F-Faster," He ordered as he looked at you, slapping your ass and grabbing a handful as you looked at him, raising your eyebrow at him. 

"Faster...What?" You held still on top of him and he growled at you, his eyes dark as he stared up at you. 

"Please...P-Please move faster," He begged as he rolled his head back against the sofa, crying out as you began to move your hips up and down faster, scooting against him as you began to moan out in pleasure. Your orgasm building up once again as you continued to move on him, riding him fastly and carefully as you rolled your head back. The sounds of your combined moans filled the room along with the wetness that was connecting you both. 

"Fuck, baby." He whined as he rubbed your breasts in his hand, tugging on your hard nipples as he felt himself getting close each time you clenched around him.

"Oh shit," You dug your nails into his shoulder as you felt the coil tightening again, your eyes rolling back as you felt your orgasm hit you. You continued riding him as your legs twitched and your stomach tightened even more, moaning out his name loudly, 

"A-Agh fuck, Baby I'm gonna-" Before he could finish his sentence you knew he was about to cum so you smirked at him quickly getting off him before he could cum and he stared at you. His cock hitting his abdomen as he let out small whimpers and whines at the cum-denial you had given him. 

"Not nice is it?" You giggled as you looked at him, getting up from the sofa to change only to find yourself being picked up. 

"Minho!" You cried out as he began sucking on your skin, laying you down on the floor. 

"Hands and knees now." There was no soft dom-voice to him, the soft dom you knew was gone and replaced with the hard-dom standing behind you. A slap hit you across the ass as you didn't move fast enough to his liking and he smirked as you whimpered. Getting onto your hands and knees as he had ordered and looked over your shoulder at him, 

"Why- Oh fuck yes!" You screamed out as he thrust into you quickly, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle and get over the overstimulation, all Minho cared about was getting to cum. He began to thrust into you at an animalistic speed, digging his nails into your hips as you let out cries of his name. 

"Minho! Right fucking there!" You cried out as he continued to fuck into you, not slowing down for even a second as he chased after his own orgasm.

"S-Shit shit shit!" You cried out as you felt yourself pulsating around him, another orgasm building up more intensely than the first one. It felt as though your whole body was on fire and as though you were about to burst around him as he continued to thrust into you. 

"You like that? Being used as my little fuck toy?" His rhythm got sloppy and you knew he was close to his release so you nodded, rocking your hips a little. 

"I love it!" You cried out, nails digging into the carpeted floor as you clenched around him more until you could no longer hold it back, 

"Holy shit! I'm cumming!!" You cried out as he bit down on your shoulder, smirking as he felt you clench around him before the floor got wet. 

"Dirty little girl, squirting all over the floor." You were panting and sweating heavily as you noticed Minho's thrusts slow to a stop, he pulled out of you and you whined out. Pouting when you felt his seed slowly drip out of you and hit the floor. Minho lightly tapped your ass before going on the hunt for a towel to clean up with. 

"We should shower before someone comes hunting for you," He told you as you laid on the floor beside the puddle of mess you had both created, you just whined in response to him as he wiped you clean.

"Come on babe," He chuckled as he helped you up from the floor, going over to the small bathroom that was attached to your changing room. 

Tagline: @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @minholuvs​ @anxiousbobatea​ @justbangtanthingz​

[piecksz]

ignite | (m)

pairing: dabi x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw, mentions of abuse, smoking, drug use, car sex, rough, sex, shotgunning, penetrative sex, choking, degradation, explicit language

summary: after getting into a fight with your parents, you meet up with dabi for a smoke session as temporary distraction from your problems, but you find yourself becoming addicted to something else.

words: 2,626

a/n: this is just a cute/smutty idea i thought of while texting my friend, and i decided that sharing is caring so i had to turn it into a “one shot-esque” format. enjoy! 

Beyond the steep incline of the cliff lookout, the city’s soft lights smoldered against the deep blue of the evening sky. The bustling streets were full of constant motion and a million faces that you’d never know, and yet amidst the clamor, everyone coexisted and operated like a hive. It was breathtaking the way the urban landscape encapsulated the very microcosm of life, something you were questioning the meaning of just moments ago.

It was the same customary procedure. Your father was the exemplar of stress when his ability to moderate his emotions became overrun. The conversation would always begin the same way, with him spouting obscenities about the financial hardship your family was in. He was the sole breadwinner of the household while your mother remained home and maintained the hearth. Her quirk wasn’t anything exceptional, and it was the reason why she was unable to find work. Only so many careers could make use of a germination quirk, the ability to manipulate seedlings, and floral shops in the area weren’t looking for any new hires. That was why you were training and studying especially hard at school. You figured if you were able to make it as a top pro hero, your parents would never find themselves arguing about money ever again. You could provide them with anything they’d ever wanted.

But of course those days were far off from your current reality. When your father would raise his voice at your mother, what else was she to do than raise her voice in retaliation? You always wanted to protect her, so you’d find yourself in the middle of it, and the three of you would erupt into an exasperated all-in-with-guns-blazing disarray. No matter how bad each argument got, you managed to make it out of each quarrel without any physical scars, which is why this time you, your mother, and your father were suddenly startled when he used his quirk on you. The empty vase on the dinner table was hurled in your direction without the culprit ever raising a finger, and you barely dodged it with the shallow cut on your cheek as proof. You didn’t even stick around long enough to hear your father’s rushed apologies as your mother attempted to discourage you from running out. You didn’t know where you were running to, all you knew was that you needed to put as much distance between you and your house as possible.

Your first instinct was to call Dabi up. You’d known him for years, and he was one of the only people you genuinely trusted other than your mother. He was the only other person you knew who could relate to your broken home, except he made his escape long ago. Faking his death as his final parting from his abusive father. As attractive as running away sounded, you knew that you’d never be able to abandon your mother. You had to keep your unspoken promise to your family, and it was your job to build the picturesque home that you always wanted.

“Stop thinking so hard.” Dabi’s languid voice drew you out of your reverie, and you glanced over at him in time to see him light the end of the joint with the tip of his finger. He took a deep inhale before exhaling the smoke out through his nose, and then he turned to you, offering up the neatly rolled paper.

You took it between your fingers and lifted it to your lips, echoing Dabi’s movements. It wasn’t long before your chest pushed out the smoke in strangled bursts as you erupted into a fit of coughs, and you hurriedly thrusted the joint back towards Dabi, which he welcomed gladly.

“I’m surprised you suggested this,” he teased. “You know you’re not a smoker.” He took another drag and let out a hazy cloud. “If you’re trying to impress me by proving something, throwing your lungs up isn’t really the way to go about it.”

“Anything to get rid of this feeling,” you responded. “Like my heart’s trying to claw itself out of my chest.” To say it felt like suffering was putting it too plainly. It was much more than that. The pain that nestled under your breast where your heart used to be was your silent killer. It was eroding you from the inside out.

Dabi grunted. “You’re an idiot.”

You turned your attention to him, confused at his choice of response.

“Maybe not an idiot. But you’re naive,” Dabi continued. “Take it from someone who’s been there.” He studied the joint in his hand as if it was an excuse not to look at you.

It was a sick cycle, even for someone like him. Dabi was born with all the fortunate ingredients for a comfortable life. He was attractive with a functional quirk and a pro hero father, yet his future turned out grim. If that was his luck, how much more could you say for yourself?

You mustered a quiet hum. You were already starting to feel the effects of the marijuana, and your limbs grew increasingly heavy as you did your best to sink further into the leather interior of Dabi’s car.

“Isn’t that the whole point of drugs? Temporary relief?” you asked.

Dabi snorted. “No. People do drugs because it’s fun getting fucked out of your mind.” He held the joint out to you, and you hesitated before shaking your head. If what he was saying was true then you figured it wouldn’t be the brightest option to get incomprehensibly high. That would only mean that when your emotions resurfaced after the sensation wore off, it would hit twice as hard.

Laughter erupted from the driver’s seat, but you didn’t bother looking.

“Come on, loosen up.” Dabi coaxed you. “You in the mood to see something cool?”

You weren’t, but you figured you could use the pick-me-up.

Dabi inhaled deeply with the joint to his lips, but this time instead of exhaling immediately you could see him gently swishing the smoke around in his mouth before setting his jaw. He rounded his mouth and pushed the fog out in a thick ring. He lifted his hand, snapping his fingers towards the top of the circle, causing the shape to cave in and form a delicate heart.

Smiling while you were sad was the emotional equivalent to getting a root canal, but your stiff frown melted into a small smile, and you looked down to hide your amusement.

“Stupid,” you grumbled idly, stifling a small laugh.

Dabi grinned, nudging you with his elbow. “You like that?”

You glanced off to the side before succumbing to your weed-induced laughter, which felt much better once you let it out.

“Let me show you something else. When I blow, just inhale. Okay?” He directed. Although they were half-lidded, his eyes were glazed, like blue glass.

You rolled your eyes but agreed regardless, only feeling pressured to back out once you slowly registered Dabi leaning over the armrest to close the space between you two.

Is he going to--?

Your train of thought came to a halt at the jarring feeling of marijuana smoke being blown into your face. What were you supposed to do? Fuck, you were supposed to open your mouth. You forgot to open your fucking mouth.

“You forgot to open your mouth,” Dabi said, repeating your thoughts.

You prayed that you didn’t look as frazzled as you felt. If Dabi knew you were frozen and flustered at the sheer thought of him kissing you, he would never let it go. The teasing would be endless, and you’d have to endure it to your grave.

“Right, sorry. I forgot,” you replied sheepishly.

“I literally gave you the easy part,” he teased.

Oh, fuck off, you thought. The voice in your head sounding louder than usual. You hoped that he couldn’t hear it. There is nothing easy about what you want me to do.

“Whatever. Try it again,” you said simply. Your tongue was now dry and felt heavy in your mouth. You could tell by the slick arch in Dabi’s eyebrow that he knew what he had done, and you refused to allow him to go the rest of the night luxuriating in his arrogance.

He went in a second time, mouth full of smoke, releasing it at the last minute when your lips barely collided. Pushing away the distraction of his hand on the back of your neck and his lips hardly brushing against yours, you did as he instructed, inhaling once the cloud left his lips.

Dabi sat back, enthused in the way your lips remained parted in surprise.

Sober, you would have hated the way he was looking at you, smug with satisfaction at the achievement of just having bewildered you, but with cannabis clouding your brain, your close proximity to Dabi was the only thing you could focus on. The feeling of his lips barely touching yours didn’t seem to phase him at all, like he was planning on it, but with the way your stare yo-yo’d urgently from his eyes to his lips, it became more obvious what you wanted.

You credited your fit of courage to the marijuana in your system because otherwise you would have never considered leaning forward to kiss Dabi, and you surely would have pulled away before the contact deepened into a filthy makeout session. The motion of your mouths were slow, like you were taking your time, but Dabi’s ravenous tongue in your mouth appeared way too eager to swap spit.

His hand found its way back to the nape of your neck just as you mirrored him and did the same in an attempt to push yourselves closer together although there was no more space left between you two.

You thought it was impossible to grow more hungry until Dabi released a throaty moan into your mouth, and your hunger evolved into an ache. Only breaking your kiss for a moment, still joined together by a string of saliva, you quickly climbed into his lap, aided by his strong hand on your lower back.

Was it control? Everything in your life had spiralled out of it, and yet in the moment control was all you had. Once you redirected Dabi’s hands from your hips to your chest, you knew you were drunk off of it. You placed your hands over his, reveling in the way his fingers flexed as he cradled your breasts in his palms, but it wasn’t long before he grew tired of the intolerable fabric between your skin and his.

“Up.” he demanded straightforwardly, his voice husky and low. He tugged your blouse off brusquely, still looking hot, bothered, and unamused until your bra, too, was strewn over the passenger seat along with your shirt.

The way in which Dabi exhaled labordly at the sight of your bare chest was enough to send heat racing to the tip of your ears. Naturally, you would have responded scornfully to his smutty remark about how “your tits were way better than what he imagined whenever he jerked off”, but in seconds his mouth was on your skin, his hot, wet tongue teasing your nipple as he used the tip to flick them tauntingly.

Sinking your teeth into your lower lip did nothing to stop an innocent whine from spilling, and you descended even further when it intensified into you crying out Dabi’s name.

So much for control.

But Dabi adored your lewd cheers while he experimented with different combinations, pinching, pulling, and sucking your delicate mounds to see what would elicit the loudest response.

The throbbing between your legs worsened, and you could tell, or rather feel by the firm tent against the inside of your thigh that Dabi needed relief too. You began rolling your hips, the tip of his erection prodding the top of your clit through irritating cloth.

“Stop doing that,” Dabi chewed out, looking mildly annoyed by you.

Each second that passed felt like an eternity. It was as though the cannabis exacerbated whatever sense of arousal you were feeling by tenfold. You felt insatiable.

“Fuck you,” you breathed. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I might strangle you.”

Your casual and brattish tone did nothing to quell Dabi’s displeasure, and you felt his hand close assertively around your neck, his thumb digging into the side of your throat.

“Bold of you to talk to me that way when you’re the one sitting in my lap.” He bit back. “And what if I decide not to fuck you? Then what?” His gaze was dangerous, yet you were fully cognizant of the fact that Dabi wouldn’t suffocate you, much less get physical with you, but with the current lack of air circulating to your head, you could only smile dumbly.

“Watch the way you talk to me, you dirty whore.”

Initially, Dabi planned on fucking you into oblivion for the pleasure, but now he figured it would be even more exciting fucking you as punishment, dominating the most vulnerable part of you so there was no question who was clearly in charge.

He forced you around in his lap, leaving you unsuspecting while he unbuckled his belt. You were incredibly irked that you weren’t allowed to see how hard you made him, and you feared Dabi’s temper if he caught you managing to steal a glimpse over your shoulder. The sight alone was obscene. His hand was wrapped around his thick cock, pulsating and raw from the lack of sexual contact.

You could only hear Dabi’s shallow breathing and grunts while he pumped himself slowly, but nothing could have prepared you for the pain that erupted across your pelvis once he thrust himself into you without notice. You doubled over in his lap, hands across the dashboard as he bucked his hips forward, burying himself even deeper inside of you.

Dabi guided your hips up and down, ramming himself into you quicker and then even quicker with each jolt. Eventually the sharp discomfort eased into a comfortable sting once you both fell into a sloppy rhythm, his car rocking along with your motion. Dabi dipped his slick fingers into his mouth, coating them generously with saliva before sliding them down to your clit where he opted to rub tantalizingly slow circles onto the sensitive bud.

Your vision melted into hot white light, and the way your body began to tremble violently under Dabi’s touch was a sign you were closer to your orgasm than you thought.

“Are you gonna cum?” Dabi entertained, subtly picking up the pace once your fingers enclosed around his wrist. His honeyed voice was damn near condescending, he knew you were on the brink by the way your moans became louder and more discordant.

When you came you collapsed over the steering wheel, and Dabi followed not even a moment later while your futile pleas were muffled by your bended posture.

“Motherfucking hell,” he groaned, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as he emptied himself inside of you. He pulled out his cock, wiping the crude mixture of both yours and his release on the inside of your thigh before his body went slack against the driver’s seat.

The car windows were now misty with condensation from heat, now obscuring the view you originally came to see.

You could feel Dabi’s hand on your back, rubbing tender circles into your skin in an effort to praise you since he was jaded and at a loss for words. He unenthusiastically shifted around in his seat, searching for a stray napkin to clean you up with, but you only grinned lazily, finding amusement in the new discoverance of your own personal drug.

[a-detraque-barista]

Bridges

Disclaimer: I actually made this myself ~ (///0//0///)

Naga Izuku x Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, yandere-ish (not really, like just barely)

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: So...I didn’t work on this as much as I could have cause now I feel like it’s not done so there’s most likely going to be a part 2 or ill just add onto it XD but anywho! Here is the ninth day of Izumonth!!!

Announcement post/calendar here

@birds-have-teeth​ 

Enjoy~ 

You had just moved to your new home with a close friend of yours here in this small town. Your lovely neighbor had told you about the walking path here in the woods. However, she warned you not to cross the bridge that hung over the rapids down below with the doorway at the end. She claimed the doorway would take you to another realm, where humans weren’t welcome. Thinking it was only a legend, you brushed it off.

That was until it crossed your mind again once you stumbled upon the bridge she had mentioned. Nothing about this place felt safe. It sent shivers up your spine and bumps to rise across your arms. Cautiously looking down, there seemed to be a blanket of fog with a tint of green hovering over the water. 

What a strange colored fog.

Looking back up, you saw the smallest glimpse of something move on the other side. You squinted your eyes but nothing else moved so you shrugged and turned back the way you came so you could get home for dinner. Your mom was cooking at her house and you weren’t about to pass up a free meal. It was actually her idea for you to move to this town, to get away from the city for a while. She wanted you to get away from the polluted air and clutter of society. And you agreed.

So now here you were in a quaint little town full of nosy people. As long as your mother and your dear friend were there, living there shouldn’t be too bad. 

The next day was filled with the unpacking of boxes and redecoration of the rooms. It was a cute house that wasn’t very big but it was enough for you and your friend, Tsuyu, to live in. You loved Tsuyu with all your heart. She was kind and supportive even as people called you “quirkless” and “useless”. Tsuyu’s quirk was called Frog, which allowed her to do anything a frog could. She usually made funny faces to cheer you up when you were down. Because you, well, you didn’t have a quirk. That was the main reason why your mother wanted you to move here, so you wouldn’t get picked on constantly. Even in your current early adult years people still looked down on you for not having a quirk.

“Hey, you okay, Y/n?” you felt Tsuyu’s hand on your shoulder before you flinched away at her touch. Blinking a few times you realized it was only her and you relaxed.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you set down the last of the throw pillows for the furniture before opening another box that read living room.  

“How about you go take a walk on that one path again, ribbit,” she slowly took the picture frames from your hands before going to hang them up herself. “I’ll finish unpacking these.”

You smiled before slipping your shoes on to head back into the woods like the day before. 

This time you had brought your earbuds so it wouldn’t be so painfully quiet while you walked along the dirt path. Then without realizing, you had made your back to the beginning of the bridge that hung over the rapids down below. When you came to your senses you looked up to see someone, no something, staring right at you. Even with how far it was from you, its eyes still glowed brightly in the dim lighting of the shadows. Its scales glimmered in the little dots and streaks of light poking through the trees. The whole other side of the bridge was dark and dim compared to the side you were on. The only noticeable things about it were its eyes, scales, and long tail. You couldn’t see anything else from where you were. 

Was that what you had caught a glimpse of yesterday? It couldn’t be. Could it?

It slithered forward so a little more of it was in the light. He held out his hand and waved you, telling you to come closer. And oh were you tempted to. His face was an adorable round shape with freckles. His hair was curly and thick, it just made you want to run your fingers through the strands. Then your eyes trailed down to his chest covered in scars and muscle. Leading your eyes down to his torso where it almost faded into a jade-scaled snake tail.

He was beautiful in every sense of the word. He made the “come here” gesture with his hand again but this time he added an adorable, innocent smile. 

With a light pink hue on your cheeks now, you began to walk over the old and creaky bridge. Holding onto the rough rope that acted as a railing, you slowly made your way across the bridge. And he sat there waiting for you patiently and hopefully. 

Once you set one foot onto the solid ground, you were wrapped up in his coils. He held you tightly as he spoke, “I never thought I would be able to see you again, Y/n-chan.”

Confusion crossed your face but he only giggled at it before slithering deeper into the dark forest with you still tightly in his tails grasp. On the way to wherever you were headed, skeletons and clothes lied on the ground and in trees. The clothes made sense given that snakes ate their prey whole, but skeletons? Was there something else living here that didn’t eat bones? You shuddered at your own question which the snake holding you felt no doubt.

He slightly smirked at feeling your the chill run down your spine. But he quickly got rid of it as he focused on where he was going and the heat your body exerted into his. He could feel it seeping through his scaly armor. He couldn’t help but wind his tail tighter around you. 

Suddenly, he heard you whimper which caused you to look back at you. He realized what he did wrong quickly and slackened his hold on you, but only a little. It could have only been a few minutes before the snake man stopped outside of a large hole in the ground. He glanced back to you before continuing into the hole. He had to lower the top part of his body so his stomach was almost touching the ground and he tilted you back so you were looking directly up into the sky before darkness clouded your vision.

A dull glow of light came from the end of the makeshift tunnel and your eyes adjusted easily the further you went. He straightened both your body and his as he reached the large relatively empty area. The only things that were in the “room” were the torches spread out on the walls and furs that laid on top of a bed of roughly carved tree trunks.

Curling up on the furs his body still held you but not as tightly. His long-nailed hands came to hold your face and inspect you. Tilting your head side to side. Looking for what he knew to be there, he just didn’t know where. 

After practically pressing your face into his chest he found the mark he had left behind your ear. He smiled, “I knew it was you! I’ve been waiting for you ever since we were kids. I’m just sad it took this long for you to come back to me.”

Wait...w a i t

What?

Your confused expression made him giggle again before removing your earbuds gently, “How can you not remember me? It’s Izuku, remember?”

Izuku? You mean...he’s the-

He’s the boy you always went into the forest to play with as a child. He was the first person to not mind the fact that you were quirkless. You couldn’t believe he had stayed here all this time. Back then he slept in a large old tree and he would always carry you up to where the two of you talked and messed around. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!” you almost shrieked as your wrapped your now free arms around his neck to hold him close. 

His face turned red as he acted like it was no big deal. Just as he was the first person to treat you with kindness, you were the first to not be terrified of what he was. Izuku has been hunted and sought out for being a danger to humans. He was only a danger when they attacked him. Too many times he’s been ambushed and injured by humans who refuse to believe he wouldn’t harm them without good reason.

All he could do was use tail and long fangs that utilize his deadly venom because he too was quirkless. It was hard to fight against these people that had quirks like ice and fire or that has a shadow coming from their body.

Izuku wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his head into your shoulder. He missed you like no other. His life was lonely without you brightening his days. But now you were back, and you were going to stay for good.

He sniffed a bit causing him to lick his lips and get a whiff of your scent. He hadn’t been able to take the time to smell it. His tongue poked out again to smell it again. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head and he held you tighter. Izuku had to use all of his strength to not shudder from your delectable scent. Just to make sure he wasn’t mistaken he turned his head to your neck and stuck his tongue out again to smell from your scent gland. He was so close to biting your neck right then and there.

You were fertile. There was no doubt in his mind. It was time for you to bear children and he wanted nothing more than to fill you with his eggs and cum alike. 

“Y/n-chan...have you ever...done it before?”

[cousinwingding97]

Silver Memories

Chapter Five: Corvus

Warnings: Description of killing someone. This one is a long one as well, so the next chapter will be shorter since this took a lot out of my brain. Enjoy!

Mando listens as you describe the nightmare, or possible vision for lack of a better word, with rapt attention. Every detail is seared into your brain much like the memory of being whipped that keeps playing over and over; this one feels different, though, like an out of reach dream rather than a bone deep memory. You don’t know which is worse and you wouldn’t mind some happy memories to play in the darkness of your mind while drifting to sleep.

He shrugs it off saying it’s just a nightmare or memory before turning back to the flashing lights of hyperspace. You want to argue considering the details seem more recent and there was no sign of pain and destruction while you two were on Pollis Massa, but he cuts you off with a, “We’ll find out from my friend what it is. For now, try not to let it bother you.”

Yes, brilliant idea. Can’t believe I didn’t think about not letting it bother me, you think to yourself. Even with his words, you can’t help but notice that Mando seems much more tense in the shoulders. You’re wondering if he is just trying to make you feel better in his own way.

“Do I have enemies?”

“W-what? Why do you ask?”

“Well, I mean the dream made it seem like that guy wants to kill me or capture me at least, I was found in a cell; I can’t help but feel like people don’t want me around.”

“Everyone has enemies. Yours probably grew in number just from hanging out with me.”

“Why? Do people not like you?”

Mando lets out a small sound like a disbelieving laugh, “Most people aren’t too excited about a bounty hunter sullying their place of business In case we end up causing a mess or chasing after them. I’m not welcome to most places.”

Something twists in your heart. It feels like pity or just discomfort with the idea of people judging based off the armor and job Mando performs. “Don’t you get lonely?”

Mando shifts in his seat, “I’ve never really thought about it,” he says, but you can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. A desire to fit in and be loved, but only ever being held at arms length or feared. The emotions don’t feel like your own; in fact, you know they aren’t since you can’t place any experience to that feeling. It feels more like Mando’s due to the tinge of anger underneath it all. Why wouldn’t a child be loved unconditionally and why should anyone be untouched by the love and kindness of others?

“You have,” you breathe out more to yourself. The realization hitting you like a punch to the gut, slamming all of your emotions out to be filled with his. “You’re lonely. No one gave you what you really wanted.”

You can almost see the faceless warriors demanding excellence, violence, pure fight from every child instead of the love a child needs. A desire for every child to perform perfectly without any thought or care towards what actually children need to develop and thrive. It hurts. You don’t know why, but your heart feels like there are claws hollowing it out from the inside. Your breath starts to burn in your lungs.

“Stop it.”

“You just want the gentleness and love, you want to be loved, yet you can’t have it now.” The words flow out of your mouth, unwelcome.

“I said stop.”

“Everyone is too scared of you. Mandalorians are warriors first. Nothing else.”

“Snap out of it!” Mando literally snaps his fingers in front of your eyes and just like that, the spell is broken. You can breathe again and once you can, all you feel is numb, as if all of Mando’s emotions took your own, leaving you with nothing. Your eyes focus on Mando again. He’s staring at you. The T Visor reflects the stars of hyperspace making it look like there’s a mini galaxy in his visor instead of the black void you had grown used to. You know he’s angry by his tone and the stiffness of his body language, but you aren’t scared of him now. He won’t hurt you because he’s not angry at you, just exposed from your earlier invasion into his mind. His walls are up even higher now, you can’t help but feel like you’ve backtracked in his trust of you.

“Sorry, I just... felt you. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

He tilts his helmet subtly. Something has changed between you two and he senses it now. Less fear and mistrust on your side and more on his side now with more questions for each of you.

“The sooner we find my friend, the better. Maybe she can help you control whatever this is.”

The rest of the flight is spent in awkward silence.

———————————————————————

Corvus looked absolutely dreadful from the viewport of the Vanguard. A foggy, barren dead planet. Dead trees, fog that clouded everything like a cloak of death. Your mood was already sour from the flight with your emotions plus Mando’s silent brooding now adding to the ever growing list of negative emotions about the current state of affairs. You absolutely hated everything about this place already. The dark gloom ate into your soul.

Mando was quiet as ever. The rest of the flight he remained silent and didn’t even look at you. You figured it was probably the invasion of privacy, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help any of this! He had a right to be angry, but it still pissed you off that he seemed to be taking it out on you when you couldn’t even control what was going on.

Only when the ramp lowered and you were standing on this new planet did he finally speak to you, “Last I saw, Ahsoka was this way.” He hadn’t even stopped walking to say that, so you had no choice except to follow. Begrudgingly, you did. Like I have a choice in which way.

As if this planet couldn’t get worse, there was a silence weighing heavily around you, broken only by animalistic grunts and growls every so often. You jumped each time, scouring the area for any threat. The thought of holding on to Mando’s arm entered your mind once or twice, but his lack of reactions gave you an ounce of courage. Even if he still didn’t speak to break the heavy spell of this planet.

“Are we in danger?” You whispered into the fog.

“No.” Was the short reply.

“Then why are you not speaking?”

“Because I don’t have anything to say.”

“Even back on the ship? We are about to see a friend of yours, I’m apparently able to feel emotions through unknown powers that may be growing, I have creepy visions or dreams and you have nothing to say?” You abandoned the whispering for full volume talking, but still keeping it from yelling just in case.

“Until we know more, there’s nothing I can say.”

“More like won’t.”

The Mandalorian turns to you with a sigh, “We’ve been over this once. I’m not going to trigger you if I can help it and there’s not much to say. I hate to say it, but I’m just clueless as you are and I’m taking a shot in the dark hoping that she can help us. I’m sorry, but this is the best I’ve got right now.”

It hits you like a laser shot. Mando doesn’t know and that terrifies you. This whole time you had been following his lead thinking he knew what to do in order to bring back your memories, but he’s just as lost as you. You had been blindly trusting this man to help you and he doesn’t even have the answers. Sure, he knows more about you than you do, but the visions and emotional tune-ins are new to him as well.

“Did I not have these abilities before?”

“I don’t know.”

Mando leads you through the dead forest. Over logs, around boulders and deeper into the fog. This planet may have flourished at one time, but it looked like a graveyard now to you. There were shapes in the distance of creatures, but the lack of light coming through the fog didn’t show much detail, letting your imagination draw up horrible images of what may lie beyond the fog.

“Why does your friend live on a creepy, haunted planet?”

“It’s not haunted, just damaged. When I met her, she was freeing the locals from a tyrant who tortured those within her walls.”

“Do you think she’s still here then?”

“Maybe. The locals should be able to tell us more. If not, we can at least stock up on supplies.” The idea of people living on this planet is a tad bit surprising to you.

After hours of walking, the forest seems to give way to a grey wall. There are people posted along it, and upon seeing the silver armor, there’s a sudden rush of noise and clamor. A gate housed in the middle of the wall opens revealing an elderly man making his way towards both of you.

“Mandalorian! Welcome back! Come in, come in! Night is falling. You can rest within our walls.”

Mando doesn’t say anything, but does reach up and clasp forearms with the man who now notices you. “Oh, miss! We hadn’t expected you to be back as well. Glad you both could join us.”

You immediately looked to Mando in surprise. You had been here with him too. You must’ve have met this friend while she was here. It made sense, but you were starting to wonder how long and for what reason you stuck around.

Mando kept walking without even noticing you. The village within the walls was lively. Houses lined the main street and bustling with activity. Vendors shouting their wares, children playing in the street and racing off down the winding streets veering off to the rest of the village. Even with the plain grey and brown neutral tones of the buildings, there was life within these walls that made you smile. It was a complete night and day difference compared to outside the walls.

People were happy here and happy to see you and Mando. Villagers would point at you two and wave. Some even clapped Mando on the back or hugged you. It was starting to overwhelm you. Did you know these people? Were you from here?

Mando noticed your growing concern and cut off the old man’s ramblings, “I’m sorry, but I need to find Ahsoka Tano. Is she here? My friend here lost her memories and needs her help.”

The old man looks to you in surprise and sorrow, “Oh, you should have said something earlier! My apologies, miss. Unfortunately, Ahsoka is not here at the moment. She’s taken up a new adventure outside of our walls. She said she would be back in a few days though.”

“And when was this?” You blurt out in despair.

“Two days ago. She will most likely be back very soon if you can wait.”

“Did she say where she was going? Maybe we can find her quicker.” Mando asks.

“No, I’m afraid not. To be honest, I can’t even say if she’s on this planet with absolute certainty.”

It takes all the strength in your body to hold your mouth shut to keep from screaming.

“You and your friend are more than welcome to stay with my family in the meantime, if you wish. After everything you did for us, it’s the least we can do in return.”

Mando accepts the offer for both of you. The man leaves to go tell his wife and family in order to prepare the house for you two. When he’s left, Mando turns to you.

“I’d rather not wait if we don’t have to. Are you alright staying here while I scout out the area and see if I can track her down myself?”

“Mando, I don’t know these people despite their knowing of me! Do you trust them? And what if this Ahsoka lady comes back and you’re not here?”

He holds a hand out as if to calm you, “I won’t leave tonight. That will give me time to see if these people are fully trustworthy and let you get comfortable with them. Is that better?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance. It was, but still not fully satisfying. “Again though, what if she shows up? I won’t know her. What if we miss her?”

Mando tilts his helmet in thought. His hands settle on the belt on his hips. As if the answer came to him from touching his belt, he suddenly reaches in a pouch and grabs something. Gingerly, he reaches out his fist to you. You lift your palm and he drops a black device into your hand. It’s small and round with an oval end and a piece that juts out from the bottom. There’s a blinking blue light on the oval end.

“Here. It’s a communicator that connects directly to my helmet. It may look small, but as long as it’s on and in your ear, it will connect to me. I’ll tell the old man to let everyone know that if Ahsoka shows up, to come to you. If she does, you just press the oval end and tell me. Does that help?”

You look at the device again and gently put it in your ear. The fit is perfect and light. You press the button to test it and Mando nods in confirmation that it worked.

“Okay. That’s fine. Just don’t be gone too long. If I have another episode, I’d rather it be by someone who is already used to my weirdness.”

If you hadn’t turned on the device to test it, you never would have heard the very small breath that passed through your ear. It was a laugh. A gentle huff, but a laugh that you could hear due to the connection to Mando’s helmet. You smiled fully in pride knowing you secretly made him laugh.

———————————————————————

The old man returned to find you and Mando shopping for new supplies. Both of your arms were full by the time he came back and showed you to his house that was within eyeshot of another gated larger house in the middle of the street. You didn’t get a good look at it, but you felt like that place held a lot of sorrow and pain within its walls.

The old man, whose name you learned was Ko, introduced you to his family. His wife, Leeda and their eldest son with his wife and a young grandson. They were extremely polite to you and Mando, catering to anything and everything. They took your bags and set them on the table by their laundry room and ushered you into the kitchen for dinner. The food smelled delicious, permeating the whole house with spice, meat and melted butter. You had no idea what it was, but sitting down to eat the seared meat and baked vegetables brought you to the most light-hearted you had felt since waking up. You ate with vigor and listened to the family speak of anything and everything. 

The grandson brought up something you had forgotten until he piped up, “Mr. Mando, why aren’t you eating? Mom says that we have to eat if we are to stay strong!”

You had been distracted with the food and hadn’t even noticed the hunk of metal sitting next to you not saying a word or eating. His creed not even allowing a meal in the presence of others, but there he sat in silence, forgoing any part of impoliteness to even mention that he couldn’t eat. Everyone’s eyes were now on Mando as he sat in awkward silence. You set the silverware down in shame. How could you forget something like that? The poor guy hadn’t had food in who knew how long? He’d been with you this whole time.

“Jax, hush! That is impolite to ask of a Mandalorian.” His mother piped up.

“No, it’s okay. I ate recently. If I can, I’d like to take some to my room for later.” You knew it was a lie. He hadn’t had food recently. There was no way unless he had hidden tubes beneath that armor, but the family seemed to buy his lie. 

You suddenly stood up announcing, “We are actually really tired from traveling so much and shopping, I am afraid we must retire. Can we see our rooms?”

Ko looks up startled, but laughs it off, “Oh yes! Of course! I should’ve known you two would be so tired. Come, come. I will show you to your room.” 

You smile at him as he stands to show you to the rooms. You were just relieved that Mando would eat soon. He must have been starving! It was astonishing you that he was still standing without a hint of exhaustion or shaking.

Following Ko out of the dining room, you were led down the hall full of family photos, to a door at the end. One door. “Here’s where you two will be staying. I’m sure you will find it comfortable.” The two of you. He meant both of you. He meant for you to stay in the same room as Mando. Oh, please have two beds. You opened the door hesitantly and lo and behold, one large bed. It was so cliché you couldn’t help the small giggle that tickled out of your throat. Before you could protest, Mando chimed in that it was perfect and thanked Ko for his hospitality while gently pushing you further into the room to close the door. 

You immediately went on the defense, “Why did you tell him this is fine! You need your privacy to eat! I can’t stay here.”

Mando had been holding up one hand while balancing the food in his other, preparing for a fight. He seemed to pause at your words. “You want to leave?”

“Yes! If it means you get to eat, then yes, I will leave or hide in the bathroom, whatever you need. I know you haven’t eaten for at least a day.”

He sets the food on one of the side tables next to the left side of the bed. He shuffles on his feet thinking about his next move. You move to leave thinking he was trying to come up with a nice way of telling you to get out. Before you can, “You can stay. If you want. Just as long as we sit on the floor facing the opposite way. Only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You can’t tell if it’s a plea or just him trying to make it seem like all of this is no big deal. You have no idea, you can’t really deny the fact that you want to stay. The idea of being out there with people who act like they know you makes you far more uncomfortable. “Alright.”

You cross the room to the right side of the room, pretending to notice all the details of the room instead of thinking about his heavy gaze. He watches you the whole time. You try not to fidget or trip over yourself in the midst of his watchful gaze. You turn your back to him and slide down the side of the bed until your legs are in front of you straight out and your butt hits the cold floor. You awkwardly give him a thumbs up over the side of the bed, “Anytime you’re ready.”

You hear a hiss and a clank of armor onto the wood table. You freeze. Your body immediately wanted to turn towards the noise. The curiosity alone makes you want to look. Maybe you had seen his face before all of this had happened and it would help trigger your memories. The thought leaves as soon as it enters. You weren’t about to betray his trust with something this monumental to him.

The quiet sounds of him sliding down to the floor and then starting to eat greet your ears. It’s so quiet and you can’t help but fill the tormenting silence with anything to distract yourself from what’s right across the room from you. It would be so easy to take a peek and the temptation leads you to studying everything around you. The room is large compared to the small compartments of Boba’s ship and the Vanguard, not large enough to distract you though. The view of the wall and its single picture of Ko’s family isn’t entertaining after a few seconds. The only window is right above the bed so you can’t look out of it without risking seeing Mando.

Boredom finally reaches its peak within your brain so you call out to the other side of the room, “How do they know me? They keep treating us like we are gods. What did we do?”

There was no way to prepare for the voice that greets your ears. You hadn’t thought about how Mando’s voice would sound and even if you had, it would never compare to reality. A warm rumble of whispered honey caresses your ears and slides down your body in a comforting bass, “This planet was under the control of the Empire. The ones that ripped your memories from you. We helped free them.”

“We?”

“Ahsoka, you and me.”

“How’d I do anything?”

There’s a pause for faint chewing. You felt kinda bad for insisting that he eat and then not letting him have that luxury by constantly asking questions.

“You think that trick you did to catch that little guy on the flying lizard was an accident? Luck? You helped a lot in that fight.”

As if hearing your next question forming, he interjected, “That’s all I will say. Why did you care so much about me eating?”

The change in topic throws you. All bubbling questions leave your mind as you try to focus on the answer.

“You still don’t seem to fully trust me, you haven’t shown any concern earlier, so why now?” He asks as if to clarify his question.

“I don’t know. I’m still struggling with it. These people act like decent people, the Empire must be the bad guys here for what they did to me and this town. I guess you are the closest thing I know to be good. You are trying to help me as far as I can tell, putting in more effort than Boba or anyone else so far, but here I am not offering any sort of help back. I get that I don’t know what I can and can’t do; however, that shouldn’t stop me from making sure my pilot is in fit condition. Maybe I hate your guts with my memories, maybe we were best friends. I’ll try to stay more in the moment and trust you until you prove otherwise, as long as you are more open with me about yourself. And not about your personal stuff, just tell me if you need rest or food, okay? It won’t ruin your scary image, I promise.”

He’s quiet as you hear him finish his food and set the plate back on the table. When you hear his voice again, it’s the blasted coder instead of sweet honey, much to your disappointment.

“Alright. Only if you do the same.”

You take that as permission to look at him again, so you stand and turn to him. His thighs are pressed to the bed as if trying to be close to you without crossing to your side of the room.

“We are pretty much on our own. I’m not used to counting on others, but you are too selfless and caring to be a burden. If I ask you something, I want you to be honest. I can’t help you if you end up passing out, having an episode, or worst of all: dying. I’ll do what I can to earn your trust.”

Your cheeks warm unwillingly. It sounded like Mando cared about you, so maybe you could trust him fully after all.

“Alright. Two-way street. Neither of us breaks these rules.”

“Fine. First question, is it alright if I sleep in here? Just as a precaution. I'll sleep in the chair, so you can have the bed."

The question catches you off guard. You honestly didn't know. The idea of him just watching you while you tried to sleep didn't sound like a lot of fun.

"Uh, are you actually going to sleep or just watch me the whole time?"

He seems to realize the way that sounded stutters a little, "I-no, uh, I meant, stay in here and sleep so I can be here in case something happens. Which it shouldn't, but just in case."

"As long as you promise to actually sleep. You need rest just like anyone else, you know that right? As far as I know, you aren't an android or anything. Are you a species that doesn't require a lot of sleep?"

He sighs and makes his way to the refresher off to the side of the bedroom, "Just get some rest."

Rectuantly, you lay down to get some sleep. The bed is cold from lack of use along with the night temperatures. You can hear water running as you lay there staring at the ceiling along with soft clanging as you imagine Mando removing his armor. You couldn't sleep with that kind of stuff going on. The mental image of what Mando might look like under the armor paired with that voice had your thoughts racing.

Once the door opens again, you catch a glimpse of Mando in just sleep clothes and his helmet before he turns off the light. It's a startling sight. Casual clothes and only his helmet? You never expected this. It was like seeing a rare creature out mythology in comparison to this. Almost intimate. You could see some tan skin barely peeking out of his tunic. He was still broad and large, yet more human. The skin looked human at least.

This was going to be a long night.

Sure enough, the next morning had left you waking up exhausted. Even knowing you were safe with Mando, the thought of a strange man at the foot of you bed still left you feeling restless, almost exposed. You had tossed and turned all night only catching bits and pieces of sleep every so often. When you awoke, Mando was already gone from the room. His weapons and armor were gone as well.

Leaving the room and entering the kitchen brought you back to a life outside of Mando and traveling with possible threats following you everywhere. Ko's family was already up and fixing breakfast together. The grandson, Jax, looked up to see you enter the kitchen. He grabbed your hand and dragged you over to help fix food with them. They were nice people that went to lengths to make you feel safe and at home with them.

You tried to make efforts to get to know them. It felt awkward with the almost hero worship they treated you with though. You had no idea how you had helped these people and if you even deserved it. What if Mando had just made it sound like you had helped so you wouldn't feel worthless?

They all had their own things to do after breakfast. Jax went to school, Ko's wife went out back to tend to her garden, and Jax’s parents, Lillian and Idris, went to visit another family. Ko at least invited you to drink tea on the back porch while watching his wife work in the garden. You gladly accepted.

"It is nice to have you and the Mandalorian back in our city. It's a good reminder that we are not easily forgotten. Mando did tell us you have been forced to forget everything, including yourself.”

You hum into your tea mug, noncommitedly, "Some Empire jerks took my memories. All of them. I don't remember ever being here."

"Well, I'm sure a part of it would be gladly forgotten. We were not a happy place until you and Mando came along. Ahsoka as well. Of course, it's not hard to expect from a Jedi. That is what they do."

"A Jedi?"

"Yes, the guardians of peace in the galaxy. You really have forgotten everything." His gaze of pity just makes your stomach turn. You didn't want pity. You didn't blame anyone but the people who did this to you.

"Is there anything you can tell me about myself? What was I like?"

Ko laughs in response, a genuine belly laugh, "You were a spit fire. You saw the injustice that was going on and you personally wanted to take on every guard and mercenary yourself. Mando had to hold you back. If it hadn't been for the need to find Ahsoka, you would've killed anyone in your way."

You couldn't help your eyes bulging our of your head. You? Killing people? Fighting in general? It was a crazy idea. You wanted to think this old man was crazy, but there was plenty of lucidity in the old man's eyes. He was telling the truth.

"What did I do? How'd I fight?"

"In any and every way. You didn't hold any punches. You used anything within your range. Blasters, staffs, even your fists. You were a sight to behold. You were kind to everyone in the city that was being held hostage here. You did whatever it took to free us. We are extremely grateful. We will do what we can to help you."

Once you had finished your tea, you left Ko to his own devices in order for you to think over everything he told you. You retreated to the solitude of the room you were sharing with Mando to rummage through the thoughts flying through your brain. The fear of accidentally triggering another violent memory had you curled up on the bed. Nothing happened though. You had taken a hot shower to calm down and changed into the clean clothes Leeda provided, yet now here you were with the spear you had stolen from Utapau. Mando had let you keep that at least. You were holding it trying to see if it felt familiar in your hands like a hidden instinct or muscle memory. Nothing was coming to you though.

You waited until night to check in with Mando. Perhaps a tad bit reluctantly, but you did worry about him being out there by himself.

"Mando, you there?"

The crackle in the communicator filled your ear and then his voice filled your head, "I'm here. Is everything okay?"

"That's what I was going to ask. Everything's fine. Just a little boring. It's almost strange to be living a quiet life after the past few days."

He chuckles lightly into the communicator, "I'm sure we will be on our way into trouble eventually. It's typical for me."

You smile tightly. You could wait on the trouble. "Any sign of Ahsoka?"

The answering sigh tells you enough, but still he answers, "None yet. I'm just trying to pick up any sort of trail. I'm found her camp from last time I met her and it looks abandoned. The only clue I found so far. It looks like she dismantled her camp fairly recently so that’s a sign she’s been here at least.”

"Hopefully she's okay and this isn't a wild bantha chase."

"I'm sure she is. She's a powerful warrior."

"Yeah, Ko said she's a Jedi. Apparently that means she's some sort of warrior."

"What else has Ko been telling you?"

"Just that apparently I know how to fight expertly as well." Your tone turns accusatory.

"Yes, you do. Don't ask though, I don't know where you learned or even all the things you can do."

Your pettiness still gets to you a little as wish him a quick goodnight and cut the line. It still frustrated the amount of information everyone knew. You really needed to stop taking it out on Mando. You felt a little guilty as you went to bed that night.

------------------------------------------------------

The next morning brought your regrets to the surface again as you awoke to a sudden boom and shaking of the house. Screams followed the explosion as the reverberations faded away. You practically fell out of bed running towards the door to find where you hoped the others would be.

You call out for Ko and the others but there’s no response. You look throughout the house and finally find them all gathered by a door offset from the kitchen. Ko had gathered his family and was leading them down through the door down a set of steps leading to what you assumed was a basement when you cried out to them, "What's going on? What was that sound?"

Ko turns to you and grabs your arm leading you to the basement, "The Empire is back. It's a small party, but they are bombing the city!"

Your heart freezes. Is this because of your vision? Is this all happening because of you? Guilt flares in your heart. If you caused all of this pain and suffering, kriff, probably some deaths, all because of your presence, you didn’t know how you would forgive yourself. You reach up to the communicator in your ear only to find it missing. In your confusion and haste to find the others you had left it behind in the bedroom. You left it on the table like a mindless wamp rat.

You turn to run back to the bedroom all the while Ko tries to yell at you to come back to the safety of the basement. You hear more explosions outside, but you have to let Mando know. The basement won’t be safe for long if the house falls down around them. Mando may not be able to do much, but you have to warn him so he won't walk into a trap and possibly find Ko and his trapped family should the worst happen.

You reach your room and pratically fling yourself onto the table to grab the communicator. Stuffing it into your ear, you immediately open the channel. "Mando!"

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"The Empire's here!"

[very-unskilled-hunter]

Chronicles of Agrewannar, “The inner demons” Chapter II

       The weight of the day was untenable. The air filled with characteristic coolness, and the Grey Fortress was surrounded by thick fog. Thick grey clouds swept through the sky abpve the castle. However, they were not alone in their journey. That day they were accompanied by ravens, who circling over the castle, made some narration noises. The stone walls were filled with silence. Everything seemed dead.

      Surrounded by the walls of her own chamber, Eugenia von Holstein sat on the Edge of a fur-covered bed. Looking towards the fire slamming in the hearth, she felt nothing but pain and grief. Clenching her jaw, she recalled the fateful day she lost her friend. All the while, she ha dan approaching cotton watt in front of her eyes which fell on them like an avalanche killing everything. In her ears, the sound of screaming and tearing flesh sounded. She still felt a strong jaw clenched on her leg and stabbing pain. The worst, however, was the image of thane Ulfric Gerhardt whose neck was clenched wolf’s muzzle. An empty look, leaking blood and paind that couldn’d been described have accompanied her for almost a week. It manifested itself when only it could, in the course of sleep, food, rest… always. Exhausted, she tied her face in her hands, trying to take a break from the images that haunted her for a while. It didn’t even help. Grief squeezed her throat. Clenching her teeth, she walked up to the mirror in the room. Tall, skinny with red hair and a remorse-induch pythoned face. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and hurried to the door. As she walked out into the hallway, she felt the cold of raging draught. As she walked in front of her, she felt more and more bitterness. Heading towards the courtyard, she looked straight ahead. She couldn’t let herself be distracted. Through the open door she was able to see the funeral pyre. Sorrow squeezed her throat once more. Gritting her teeth, she parried directly at the group of people gathered around the pyre.

       When she got close enough, the people parted allowing her to pass. She looked at her dead friend’s face and turned away from him. She looked at the gathered crowd and couldn’t imagine that they could feel the same pain. They did not know what she knew, nor did they witness what she had the opportunity to see. They knew nothing, and yet they were here. The mourning sheep lined up one by one to say their final goodbyes. Looking at them she felt nothing but anger. She didn’t wat them here. But could she blame them? Could she have hated them for saying goodbye to a dead friend the way she was saying goodbye to a thane? She looked at his face once more and, turning towards them, began her speech.

-Resident of the Gray Fortress domain – she began. – Recent events have brought us together here to say goodbye to thane Ulfric Gerhardt. He was a man of honor, brave and valorous, fearless, but also full of kindness and warmth toward all who ever inhabited these lands. With his help, the area surrounding the Grey Fortress has opened up to change. It is because of him that we are where we would only get in many years by ourselves. He let us take from his wisdom as much as we needed, he brought the place, its people and even the castle he lived in to life. Unfortunately – she continued – we will never be able to listen to his advice, enjoy his company or fight by his side again. Let’s let him go and hope that each of us can meet him in Valhalla. Because by dying a hero’s death, he showed that heroism is not just a fairy tale invention. He showed that a true hero does not wear shining armour. He showed what fidelity and nobility are, and we should all strive to let the spark that guided him through life glow in us as well.

       At this point she paused. She was unable to speak further. She turned away from the crowd and placed her hand on his, clasped on his sword.

- Farwell my friend – she whispered.

Holding back tears she walked over to the hearth, in whose basket was a torch. She took it and put the fire under the pile.

       Hours passed and she stood in one place the whole time. Every moment fewer and fewer people were in the courtyard. Finally, she was left all alone. Looking at the catching ashes, she tried to keep herself in check. She couldn’t stop the tears though. She clenched her eyelids and, turning away from the pile, moved toward the Fortress.

       As she walked through the empty hallways, she paid no attention to the sculptures and paintings she passed. All she wanted was to be in her bed again. She reached her chamber and, being behind a closed door, sat down on her bed and gave herself fully to mourning. Tears flooded her face, and she didn’t even try to stop them. She sat back against the table and slowly calmed herself as she stare dat the sword lying on the table. The weapon absorbes all her attention. Looking at the double – edged blade, she tried to chase the horrifying memory away from her. However, she felt herself losing control over her body. Her muscles refused to obey and herm ind slipped into unconsciousness. She didn’t want to fall asleep. She longed to remain conscious, but the moment her head settled on a table, darkness fell before her eyes and she lost consciousness. When she woke up she felt the same pain she had felt before falling asleep. She couldn’t stand up to it. The next few days passed in a melancholy she could not cope with. Every sleep ended in the same nightmare. Months passed, and the thought of her friend’s death kept her awake.

       „Wolves! Be careful… They’re chasing us�� Wolves… No! Kill them! Ulfric… No! No! No!”

- No! – she shouted waking up violently. Horrified, she pulled her head away from the pillow only to find that nothing was happening. To her surprise, the fatigue and pain substiyuded. It had been months since she’d felt rested. She lazily rose from the bed and walked over to the mirror. She looked into her own eyes. „Would he want that?” she thought. „To see me like this? Get a hold of yourself. Remember him, but don’t nurse your grief. You have responsibilities to live up to damn it! You can’t break down now.” She felt determination fill her. She knew she had to get back to normal wether she wanted to or not.

       While in the courtyard, Eugenia stormed into the stables. As she walked toward her horse’s stall she kept thinking about her promise. Determination ensured her confident gait. Reaching the mount, she quickly saddled it and left the Grey Fortress. Rushing towards the Wolf Forest, she couldn’t wait to talk to her dead friend, whose soul would make one last appearance in the world of the living. She knew that this would be her last Chance and she would not be able to let herself and most of all Ulfric down.

       However, running up the path didn’t feel right. Excitement gave way to anxiety. Even the horse didn’t want to go any further. She left him in a clearing near the enterance to the forest. She went on alone. She felt something was wrong. She walked Ahead with her sword drawn. Usually calm regions, now seemed downright, distrustful and unpredictable. Like there’s something there that shouldn’t be. Every muscle in her body was tensed and ready to attack. As she entered the Ancestral Glade, she noticed what was causing the thick atmoshpere. This was the same pack that was responsible for killing Ulfric. Suddenly rage bubbled up in her. The beasts whose only desire was to inflict pain were now vulnerable and didn’t expect her. As she prepared to attack, she noticed that they were surrounding the Spirit Tree. „I will not allow these beasts to destroy anything else. Summoning up her unnatural courage, she rushed at the wolves with a roar. She cut blindly, and each of their attacks seemed to be slower than usual. Filled with raw kind of strength and determination, she attacked with increasing ferocity. In the heat of the battle, however, she noticed something else. It was a ghost. The ghost of her friend. He was the one directing her sword. She realized that this was their last fight. It was their last destined meeting. She didn’t feel regret for meeting him like that. She didn’t feel the need to talk. She knew and was proud that he was now with her and helping her avenge his death. However, she noticed that with each wolf killed, the spirit faded.

       When the last of the beasts fell, the ghost was gone. She stood alone in the middle of the clearing, surrounded only by trees and the sounds of the forest. Even though the threat had passed, she continued to listen in anticipation of other dangers. When the tension subsided, she walked over to the Spirit Tree and knelt by it. She felt exhausted. Age was making its presence known. Trying to chase away the feeling of fatigue, she removed the glove from her right hand and, touching the bark, thanked her frien for his help. After a moment, she raised the head pressed to her chest and laughed sincerely for the first time in months.

- Friends even after death, huh?

Silence.

- I know you’re listening. You always listened. Even when I was coming off as the worst kind of bitch. – The thought made Eugenia laugh again. – You,re finally at peace. That’s good. You deserve it. You know what?

She waited a few moments, as if waiting for an answer, but met no response. Silence all the time.

- Thank. Take care of yourself. See you, Ulfric.

Saying these words, she pressed her forehead against the Tree and, clenching her eyelids tightly, restrained herself from crying.

       After the while she rose from her knees and spent a few more hours sitting and chatting with Ulfric, who could not be heard, but she could feel that he was listening. She discussed all sorts of topics and only when dusk came did she realize how much time had passed. Lighting the torch, she took one last look at the Tree. It stood large and unmoved by human emotion. Letting out the air in her lungs, she slowly turned and started down the trail towards the clearing where her horse was waiting. Only silence and the thud of hooves accompanied her on her way to the Grey Fortress. After a few hours, she reached the castle, led her horse to the stables, and set off toward the chamber. Once again she felt a piercing fatigue, so as soon as she opened the heavy oak door her eyes wandered to the bed. As she lay there, she kept thinking about the events she had witnessed. She felt proud. Again a sort of forlorn joy accompanied her, and she gave herself up to the embrace of sleep without trying to fight for consciousness.

       After a few hours she woke up, but when she got up she felt too light. Something wasn’t right. Turning toward her resting place, she noticed that her body was still immersed in sleep. Gazing at herself, she couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed. Suddenly she heard a strange sound, as if calling out. Momentarily forgetting her conditio she left the chamber to search for the source of the voice. Trying to locate it seemed an almost impossible taks, as it seemed to be coming simultaneously from everywhere and from nowhere. Circling the stone corridors, she was able to hear the mysterious noise more and more accurately.

      Eventually, hearing led her to the entrance of the crypt where her ancestors rested. „Why here?”. Walking down the Winding stone staircase, she felt no fear or even anxiety. She felt that there was something waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs that could change her life. The way down seemed to be longer than usual. Eugenia had the gray stone in front of her eyes the whole time. When she finally reached her destination, a shimmering figure standing at the end of the room appeared to her eyes. Getting closer and closer, her eyes recognized new details of the spectrum. When she was close enough, she reached out in hopes of touching the Phantom. To her surprise, her fingers didn’t go all the way through, but stopped at the thick fur coat, which was warm and soft to the touch despite its ethereality.

- Ulfric? – She asked.

Hearing these words, the Phantom turned, and to her eyes appeared the familiar image of tall, powerful man witha a short, elegantly trimmed beard and a laughing eyes.

- Hello friend – he said spreading his arms, which gave a clear sign of willingness for physical contact. Without thinkinng much, Eugenia threw herself into her friend’s embrace

- It’s really you! But how? How come you’re there? You’re dead.

- Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not there – he laughed. – Besides we didn’t get a Chance to talk at the Tree, we’ll do it here.

- Cozy…

- I know it’s not the best place, but seeing two ghosts talking in the middle of the hallway is probably not pleasant.

- You’ve got the point – she replied smiling.

Suddenly the ghost’s face clouded. The smile dissappeard from Ulfric’s lips, and there was concern in his eyes.

- I was worried about you. You weren’t yourself.

- I know, but I had plenty time to think. It got me who I am and what my responsibilities are. Besides, I knew it wasn’t something you wanted to see. – Saying these words, a faint smile crept onto her lips.

- Never mind – his eyes took of their characteristic expression again. – I’m glad you’re okay. After all, someone has to be here and in chargé hasn’t she?

- You’re right. Tell me, are you always here?

- As long as you are. I decided I’d still be useful here. And someone has to watch over you.

- What about Valhalla?

- Feasting and fighting without you is no entertainment – he said. – I’ll wait for you.

- I’m guessingnyou won’t change your mind?

- No – he replied and smiled widely. A familiar spark ignited in his eyes. – I have to ask you something though

- I’m listening. What is it?

- Your Reign has been a golden age for the Grey Fortress domain. All I ask is that it stays that way.

- I’ll do my best – she replied, smiling. – I promise.

Suddenly Ulfric’s figure began to flicker. The ghost itself seemed to be getting paler by the second.

- Ulfric? You disappear. What’s going on with you?

- Dawn is coming. Don’t worry. Every night we can get together. Besides, I’ll still be with you during the day, you just won’t see me.

- It was nice to see you again. – she said smiling.

- You too.

Eugenia noticed that her frien wasn’t the only one who was starting to disappear. She herself was also slowly dissolving into thin air. She felt herself waking up. She looked at him once more, and the last sight he gave her was his teethe bared in wide grin.

- See you around.

She rolled off the bed and, catching her breath, couldn’t believe her luck. She knew she hadn’t dreamed it. It was too real. Sitting among the furs, she began to laugh. „He is here.” She assured herself in spirit. Looking around the room, her gaze fell on a table near the bed where they had spent many an evening. „Next time, I’m not going down to the crypt. Chairs are better.” Laughing in her spirit she jumped out of the bed and dressed in light armor, with her sword by her side and her cloak over her shoulders she moved towards the largest hall where she was accustomed to sit. She knew that nothing would be the same from that day forward. Taking her place on the central throne, jarl Eugenia von Holstein was bubbling with pride and energy that had not been in her body for a long time.

[soulmate-game]

This isn’t my usual Maribat, but I am testing out a new story just to get the creative juices flowing. This is a One Piece and Pokémon crossover, starring a Sylveon named Fae. Based off of/inspired by “the smallest straw hat” on fanfiction.net. It’s a new style and type of story from my usual, but I wanted to try it out. I love “The Smallest Straw Hat,” and I couldn’t help but wanna try out my own addition to the world, even if it isn’t canon. And I... kinda love Sylveon? like a lot?

—*—*—*—*—*

Everyone has their stereotypes about the color pink. And bows. Girly, they say with either fondness or disgust. Childish, they say with either nostalgia or scorn. Weak, they say. Because apparently “childish” and “girly” are both synonymous with “this thing/person is powerless,” or “useless,” or “worthless.”

Heh. I parade down the streets of the latest town I managed to reach, ears and tail raised high in show of my pride to be pink. Sure, I had my natural bows of fur that were just, well, part of me. And sure, I was mostly pink and white. But such was the design of every Sylveon, and most of my race were actually male. So. Everyone who immediately wrote us, and by extension me, off as being a girl just because of my appearance royally pissed me off.

I was proud to be pink. Nobody in their right mind, who knew anything about Pokémon, dared to treat a Sylveon as a weakling.

If they did, I’d make sure they knew better soon enough.

But alas, I wasn’t anywhere near Home. Back Home, everyone knew about Pokémon. We are everywhere. But all the way out here, where I was sure hardly any other Pokémon have ever ventured? Not a single human seemed to know the word, and by extension the entire species, even existed. The animals out here were all…

Normal.

Even more normal than Normal types. It was… jarring, at first. But I got used to it after a while. Life on the oceans, jumping from island to island on whatever ship I could get on, was fun. Compared to back Home, the living things out here didn’t surprise me often. So I could just enjoy everything I saw and did.

After That Day, the pure-hearted adventure was welcome.

“What is that?” And here come the whispers. Humans don’t seem to change much, no matter where I go. Fingers pointed at me, not expecting me to be fully aware of what they were saying and doing, as I garnered stares just by walking down the street.

“Some kinda fox, it’s gotta be with those ears and snout. I’ve never seen a pink and white fox before though!”

“Those bows look so real, like they could be part of the thing’s body!”

“No way that’s a fox, it’s gotta be a weird cat!”

“Those are bunny ears. Maybe it’s a mutated rabbit!”

I ignored everyone. It wasn’t like they would understand me anyway. A few brave thugs tried to tackle and grab me, but I’m no hatchling. I easily pranced and jumped out of their grasp, humming a random tune under my breath as I did so. Figuring a little fun wouldn’t hurt, I chanced them a little wink and channeled a bit of my charm. The weak-willed dolts were slumped in a pile in seconds, too enamored by my cuteness to even move. Chuckling, I just turned and pranced away.

Humans really never change.

Screams erupted, making me pause. I whipped my head around, trying to find the source of the sound. It was accompanied by the crackling of flames and thumps of heavy things being knocked over.

Too familiar. Too, too familiar.

I grit my jaw, turning as soon as I located the direction the cacophony was coming from and running straight for it. I might be a Pokémon, but I couldn’t stand screams. I failed my Home, my family. I was damned if I didn’t try my best not to fail people in peril again. Even if it was just humans, I had to try to help.

I had to.

Such was part of the reason I traveled. I was enjoying my adventure, sure, but there were two other reasons I didn’t try to head back Home. One; I was searching for someone. Two; as soon as I realized that Pokémon didn’t exist outside of Home, I decided I had to use my powers to help anyone I could. Heh. Guess a certain old friend of mine rubbed off on me, now I’m running into danger constantly without any plans. They’d be so proud.

Sliding around a corner, I finally saw it. Almost an entire street was aflame, the flags that flew just off the shore stopping me in my tracks for a second.

Marines.

I had spent enough time out on the seas to know how corrupt the supposed “good guys,” could be. Hiding under my breath, I ran toward the first burning building I could see. If there was anyone stuck inside, I had to get to them. But as I got to the door, I had to stumble back to avoid being trampled as a large, blond man came out carrying two passed out bodies over his shoulders. My squeak of surprise apparently caught his attention, and for a moment his black eyes met mine. He paused, scanning the street for a second before continuing on.

I followed him. I don’t know why, but something told me he got everyone left in that building, and was trying to finish getting those last two to safety. Regardless, I had no idea what was going on and he seemed to. For now, I’d get my cues from him.

He made his way to a large ship with a dragon figurehead, and I leapt to hide behind the corner of a not-burning building to watch as he handed the wounded people on his shoulders off to apparent allies of his before he took off again. Once more, I followed. This time, before he could even touch the door to another building that was on fire, I beat him there.

I let my ribbons expand, feeling as they started to glow. The light attracted his attention soon enough, making the man pause. He put a hand on the pipe that I now noticed was on his back, but otherwise only watched me. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to attack, I focused back on the building and let the power from my ribbon-feelers build up in front of my snout. Opening my mouth, I set off the move with a roar. My voice was the final trigger, power blasting out from my mouth in the form of a giant storm of winds, clashing into each other and whirling madly until they hit the building. The force of my fairy wind put out the flames on the whole building, though it left me slightly short of breath. I turned my head back to the blond, nodding my head to the building.

He grinned at me, taking his hand off his pipe and rushing into the building without me having to try to get the message across a second time.

That was when the footsteps stole my attention, and I whirled around. A veritable army of Marines was headed straight for me— no, straight for the building I had just put out. They were after the blond man.

I felt a growl build up in the back of my throat, quickly separating my legs and taking a fighting stance. The blond was one of the few people I could see actually trying to help with this horrid situation, I wouldn’t let anyone get in his way! But if there’s one good thing about everything I’ve been through, it’s that fighting is nothing new to me. I’d take care of these jerks, and buy that blond guy time to save as many people as he could.

As usual, nobody seemed to take the sight of me seriously. The marines seemed just about ready to run me over, but I wasn’t about to allow that.

“Idiots. You won’t pass me!” I shouted, though all they heard was “Sylveon! Eon!”

Taking a deep breath, I once again channeled my power into my feelers. Letting them raise and float straight up in the air, I narrowed my eyes and sang the tune that came naturally to me at that point. My voice rang through the air as if there were no other sounds to muffle it, as if there were no screams or flames or crumbling buildings at all. As my short song echoed unnaturally across the street, a thick fog burst into being around my feet before quickly spreading until it covered the entire block and went ten feet high. Only the area directly behind me was spared, since I didn’t want to hinder the blond man that I was doing this to protect.

The magical cloud of fog was thick and almost viscous, and it merely swayed in place instead of moving like a normal fog. It hung there, taunting and obstructing the marine assholes caught inside. I could hear the fumbles and curses as they began to trip over on another, unable to get their bearings. But merely stalling them wasn’t enough. Steadying myself, it had been a while since I had had a proper fight, I raised my head and changed my tone. Focusing on the people I could feel trapped in my fog, I let loose a siren-like wail that I knew from experience burrowed itself into the brains of those that I targeted with it. It didn’t even take a second for the screams of pain to rise up from within the fog, but I knew that it wasn’t enough to knock any of them out.

I sighed; sure defending and attacking strategically was a strong point of mine, but that didn’t mean it was very exciting. I admit, I might have a bit of an adrenaline addiction. I like fighting up close, so what? But that wasn’t my job, right then I had to just stall these guys so that—

“I got them out, nice job,” the voice that came from behind me made me jump, and I turned around to see the very man I had decided to stall for. He grinned widely at me, his mouth almost making a full D shape. “These guys aren’t too strong, but they would have slowed me down for sure. But there were more people than I anticipated in those buildings, mind giving me a hand?” He jerked his head behind him. Blinking, I followed the gesture and almost fell over. At least ten people, all in various stages of injury or unconsciousness, were strewn on the sidewalk. No way that came all from the one building I put out! How fast was this guy?

A loud laugh drew my attention back to the blond, who was nearly doubled over with his cackling. “Y-y-you’re face! Hahahaha! Don’t be so surprised, little thing. I’m good at what I do. Now come on, think you can help me carry some of them? I think I can take four or five, how many can you get?”

I puffed out my cheeks, raising my head with a confident huff as I let my ribbons stretch out. “Sylvie!” These things aren’t just for show, ya know!

Walking forward and ignoring the heavy weight of the man’s stare as he watched me, I let each of my ribbons lift up two people each. The ones that were still conscious seemed to think that I was some fever dream, which at least kept them from struggling too much since they weren’t going to fight what they thought was a hallucination. I turned proudly, smiling at the man. See? Child’s play. You get the rest. “Eon? Sylvie Sylvie.”

He clearly didn’t understand me, but chuckled anyway. “Nice, you’re stronger than you look, for such a tiny thing,” watch it. “I’ll follow behind you with the rest, did you see the boat that I took the others to? Go there, my friends will know how to help these guys.”

I nodded, not waiting to see the blond grab the last three victims before I ran off in the direction of the dragon-designed ship. I actually scoffed a bit. No matter where I went, there was always something related to dragons. Why were humans so obsessed with those things anyway? They weren’t that impressive.

“Hey! What’re you doing with— oh, you’re handing them to me?” A girl with orange hair was waiting at the boarding platform for the ship, and seemed ready to fight until I all but shoved the people I was carrying at her. “Oh. Well, thanks?”

“Don’t worry, this little thing helped me out back there,” the blond had caught up, smiling at the woman as he handed off his own victims to someone else nearby. “Let’s get these guys to the infirmary, yeah? Wanna come with us, little one? The marines aren’t likely to forget you, you kinda stand out.”

I tilted my head. He had a point, I wasn’t exactly a stealthy Pokémon when it came to my appearance. And attacking marines was bound to get me in trouble later.

The blond seemed to notice my reluctance to just go off with strangers, and chuckled again before walking over and kneeling in front of me. “I guess it would help if I introduced myself, huh? You seem to understand me just fine. My name’s Sabo. I’m part of the revolutionary army, just like everyone on this ship,” he gestured to the boat behind him. “That girl is my friend Koala. What’s your name?”

“Sylveon.”

Sabo blinked, furrowing his brows a little. “Sylveon? What are you, then?”

“Sylveon,” honestly, dealing with humans who weren’t from Home was exhausting. Always the same questions, and I could never answer them any easier than I could before.

“Huh? Is that all you can say, your name?”

I huffed, already frustrated by this stupid language barrier. “Sylveon. Sylvi, syl, Eon. Sylveon.”

“So, Sylveon is the name of your species?” I nodded, close enough. “And that is all you can say? Variations of your name?” I nodded again. Finally, we were getting places. Sabo rocked back on his heels, humming as he observed me. “Can I call you Silky-Chan?”

Oh. Hell no. I growled, narrowing my eyes. Apparently that was amusing, because he just laughed at me.

“Come on, Silky-Chan. We can figure out more about you later, but we should go before they send stronger marines.”

I grumbled under my breath at the stupid nickname he gave me, but followed him on board anyway. If nothing else, he seemed interesting. I could always jump overboard when we got close to another island if I wanted to get away.

—*—*—*—*—*

[livsoulsecrets]

Fictober Day 4 - That didn’t stop you before

Prompt number: 4

Fandom: Supergirl

Rating: General Audiences

Warning/tags: Post-Canon, Talks about death

Summary: Brainy wakes up in the DEO medical center after being rescued from the Leviathan ship, shocked he is still alive. 

-

 Brainy is convinced it is the end when he opens his eyes again. He watched many movies about death: a strong light on his face and an all white imensity around him looks just like what is described in those. 

 The only thing he didn’t expect was the pain. Every part of him is hurting, his head feels heavy and sweat is falling down his face. He thought that the one good thing about dying was being free from pain, but that was not the case here. If he was still hurting… That could only mean his body wasn’t done fighting. Brainy’s used to drawing conclusions rather quickly, but his mind is not working as usual. It is like a fog is clouding his judgment, making everything harder to understand. He tries to fall back into a familiar thought pattern: collecting evidence to prove a point.

 First, he blinks, adjusting his eyes to the light and taking in the white ceiling. Second, he feels the texture of the bed he’s in, realizing it is a hospital bed. Then, he smells the familiar ether scent and recognizes the place as the DEO medical area.

 Evidence number 1 of not being dead, he thinks: A dead person would be sent to the morgue, not the hospital. 

 He looks around his room to find that he is alone in there. The thought produces more of a reaction that he was expecting. He blames it on his system’s malfunction due to radiation overload. He had been lying to all his friends for months, working with the enemy, it would be stupid to believe his almost death would be enough to earn their forgiveness, especially Nia’s.

 Nia. She was the last thing on his mind when he passed out in the Leviathan’s ship. The curve of her lips every time he bowed down to kiss her, the gentle touch of her hands on his neck when she hugged him, the soft strands of hair falling down his chest when they slept together. He was dying and the only one on his mind was her.

 Evidence number 2 of not being dead, he files: Dead people can’t feel pain like the one he is experiencing now.

 He feels like he might pass out again until he hears some noise outside of his room. Brainy makes an effort to sit up on his bed, but it takes such a tool on him that he can’t properly breathe after that. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on hearing what is being talked about near the door.

— Nia, you should go home. Take a shower, change into something else and, then, come back. — He can make out Kara’s voice and is relieved to realize she’s talking to Nia. That means both of them are okay and safe.

— Kara, I already ate like you asked me to. I’m okay. I just want to stay until he wakes up, alright? Then, I will go home. I just- I really need to know he is okay. — Nia’s voice is trembling, but he could recognize it anywhere, in any way.

 Evidence number 3 of not being dead, he finishes: Nia is waiting for him.

 That is the one thing that convinces him in the end. Nia Nal wants him to come back to her. That is probably the only thing that makes sense to him in the middle of this chaos.

— Fine. I understand. Look, I need to give my statement about what happened. Will you be okay until I come back? — Kara asks, concern clear in her voice.

— Yes, I promise I will. Don’t worry. — Nia answers. He can’t hear anything after that, so he assumes it means Kara left. Nothing happens for a couple of minutes and he starts wondering if Nia changed her mind and left. He is proven wrong when the door is suddenly open, revealing Nia in her Dreamer outfit, eyes red and watery even under the mask. Brainy has to swallow the lump in his throat caused by how devastated she looks.

— Brainy, oh my god. You’re awake. — She rushes to his side, seeming to want to hold him. Still, she stops in the middle of the act, furrowing her brow. — Are you okay? I think I should call a doctor, I will do it right now-

— No! — He says, reaching for Nia’s arm to stop her. She doesn’t move. He waits, not knowing if he should let go or not. — I’m okay, for real. Can you just wait a moment before you do it? I just… I just want to see you for a moment. 

 She looks at him, biting her lip. After a moment, she slides her hand through his arm to hold his hand. Then, she squeezes it.

— I want to see you too. — Brainy feels like those words may be the reason he actually dies. 

 After everything he did, he didn’t dare to think of any chances of earning Nia back. Part of him just knew he had gone too far, lied for too long to take anything back. Now, despite every part of his brain warning him against it, he dares to hope for that anyway. Nia’s hand is shaking, even when she lets go of him after some seconds. She clears her throat, crossing her arms.

— I really thought you were gone. For a moment, when they brought you in, I was convinced that… That it-

— It was the end? — Brainy completes, noticing her distress.

— Yeah, I thought so. When they told us that you made it, I couldn’t even begin to understand how. Still, I’m really glad you did. — Nia finishes, her lips quivering.

— Nia, I’m really sorry, for everything. I don’t even know where to start, to be honest. The way I lied to you, to everyone, is just awful. I will understand if you never wish to speak to me again and-

— Stop! Brainy, just stop. — Nia raises her voice in the most unusual way and he immediately stops talking, surprised. — Look, I can’t do this right now. Our city was in danger. Again. People almost died. Again. You almost died. I can’t just sit down and listen to your apology like we got into a stupid argument. It’s completely different. Our world was at risk and you decided to lie and push me away instead of asking for help. It sucks and we’llI need to talk about it, but not now. — She takes a deep breath, fixing the hair that’s falling on her face. — I need everything to stop for a damn minute, so I can actually breathe. — Her eyes are filled with water now and her cheeks are flushed with red, exhaustion clear in her features. 

— So, do it. — She looks at him, confused. — Take a minute, breathe. We have time. I understand what you are saying. I’m not the person you want to talk to right now, but I can still listen. Tell me what’s in your mind. — Nia doesn’t take her eyes away from him, pondering on his offer.

— I’m just really afraid… Not just now, but all the time. I’m so afraid all the damn time and I’m just tired of it. I’m afraid of someone else trying to stop me from being Dreamer. I’m afraid you won’t make it out of this mess. I’m afraid- No, I’m fucking terrified that I’m not strong enough to handle all the horrible things that keep happening to us and this city. I try to be strong like Kara, but I don’t think I can do it anymore. — Nia sits down after that, tears falling down her face, her head buried in her hands. Her whole body is shaking now and Brainy doesn’t know what to do to make her feel better. So he does the only thing he can think of: reaches for her hands and holds them tightly while she cries. 

— It’s okay, it’s okay. — He whispers, feeling Nia’s hand shaking despite his strong hold of them. — Just let it out. — Brainy speaks softly, hoping it helps Nia calm down. He is on the edge of breaking down just by watching the woman he loves suffering like that, especially knowing part of that responsibility is his. — I’m here, I’m right here. I wasn’t here before, but I’m now. — He promises.

 Nia looks at him now, an unusual serious look on her face. She wiped the tears from her cheek, breathing more calmly now.

— There you go. Just keep breathing, it will be fine. — He hesitantly touches her cheek, caressing her face gently. He tucks her hair behind her ear, hoping the touch offers Nia some comfort. She closes her eyes, leaning in to him. When she opens them again, she’s standing so close to him Brainy can feel her breath.

— You don’t need to be strong like Kara. You just have to be strong like you. That’s more than enough. — She looks down, not seeming to be convinced by his words. — I understand why you’re scared. But what you need to understand is that didn’t stop you before and it won’t stop you now. That is what makes you so incredible: Fear doesn’t make you back down, it only pushes you forward. That is how I know you’ll be fine, no matter what happens. You’re a hero, Nia Nal, and you’re meant for great things. I know it is terrifying, but nobody in the world can stop you, nobody can take Dreamer away from you. Who you are is something you fought for every single day and that means everything you have is yours and yours only. — Brainy doesn’t even know where all of this is coming from. He’s not at his full functioning capacity yet, so that means he’s being more honest than usual.

— Oh, Brainy. — Nia whispers. — Do you really think all of that? 

— Of course I do. How could I not, with everything I know about you? — He answers. She shakes her head, still incredulous. 

— Thank you. I really needed to hear someone that believed in me today. — Nia murmurs, a small smile on her face. He can’t help but smile back. 

— No, thank you for trusting me with all of this, despite- Well, despite everything. — He adds.

— Shiu, not talking of this today. — She quickly answers. Nia moves to the edge of her seat and reaches for his hand again. Brainy is so surprised he can’t move. Then, she puts her head on his shoulder. — You are gonna stay quiet and rest now. — She commands.

— Wouldn’t think of disobeying. — He assures. 

— Good, you scared me enough for a lifetime. — The way her voice breaks shows the words are sincere.

 Brainy doesn’t know how it’s possible that Nia still cares for him in such a way when he doesn’t deserve it, but he is not going to start overthinking now. Instead, he kisses the top of her head and buries his nose in her hair. 

 It still smells just like he remembered.

 Evidence number 4 of not being dead, he thinks one last time: Only someone that is alive could feel as much love  for somebody as he does right now.

[callboxkat]

Second Chances Part 7: The Phone Call

Author’s note:  As you guys will see, this installment has a lot of Spanish in it. I've tried to include enough context clues for anyone who doesn't speak the language, but if you still want any translations or clarification, just let me know!

Summary:  The time has come for Roman to call his parents for the first time since he disappeared five years ago. But do they even want to hear from him?

Warnings: talk of homelessness, fear of rejection, lying, arguing, food mention, death mention

Word Count: 6812

Second Chances Masterpost!

Ao3 Link

...

Patton rolled over in the bed yet again, trying to get comfortable. It was very late, and he should have been asleep hours ago, but his brain just wouldn’t turn off. Given all that had been revealed that day, all that there was to do, he wasn’t exactly surprised. But he wished that he could be able to forget about that, at least for a while, at least until he’d gotten some sleep. That didn’t seem likely to happen any time soon, given how wide-awake he still felt. He didn’t know exactly what time it was; but if he were to look at the clock on the bedside table, he would probably wince.

A sleepy grumble sounded next to him. “Patton?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lo,” Patton whispered, his heart sinking. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You’ve—” Logan yawned, shifting in the bed and pulling himself closer to his boyfriend. “You’ve been tossing and turning all night. What’s wrong?” He blinked tired eyes at Patton in the dimly lit room.

“I can’t stop thinking about what Roman said,” Patton admitted, still whispering. “I just… His parents have no idea what happened. They haven’t seen him in five years! He just went off to school, and disappeared, and you know they tried to find him—they had to—and, oh, Logan, how do you think they felt when they found out he never even made it to school? They probably think he hated them, or—or maybe even that he’s dead.”

“Shhh,” Logan soothed, clearly more awake now because of the stress in Patton’s voice. “I know,” he murmured. “I know. It is a difficult situation. I assure you, though, we will do what we can to find them.”

“I just want to find that boyfriend of his, and—and fight him.”

“Even if you could do that without facing legal ramifications, it wouldn’t do any good.”

“But he deserves it.” Patton sounded unusually angry.

“Maybe,” Logan admitted, tracing a geometric pattern on Patton’s arm through his pajama sleeve in an attempt to soothe him.

“I can’t sleep, Lo,” Patton said sadly. “I should be doing something. Trying to find his parents, so they know he’s okay.”

“Even if we did find them now, I doubt they would appreciate a phone call at—” he sat up slightly to see the clock— “four in the morning.”

Patton sighed. Logan was right, of course, that it was too late to do anything now; but he didn’t have to like it.

“Come here,” Logan invited, lifting up one arm. “The only thing you should be doing right now is sleeping. You don’t have school tomorrow. You can try to find them then.”

“You had him write down their names, right?” Patton mumbled, nestling himself into Logan’s arms. Roman would be leaving early in the morning, so they wouldn’t have the chance to ask him then.

“Correct. As well as their last known address.”

“Good.”

Logan adjusted how the blankets draped over them both, and Patton closed his eyes. It was a while longer before he managed to drift off to sleep, still buzzing with a frenzied energy even as he lay curled in his boyfriend’s embrace; but finally, he did.

…

Roman couldn’t help but worry that he’d made a mistake. Maybe he should have kept quiet about what had happened and why he was homeless. He hadn’t shared any specific details of what exactly his ex-boyfriend had said about him, but that didn’t mean that Logan and Patton wouldn’t believe that he’d been lying. What if they decided Roman really was an irredeemable person, like everyone else had? What if they decided to throw him out again now that they knew just how much at fault he was for his own situation? What if they couldn’t find his parents, and he never got the chance to apologize?

What if they did manage to contact his parents, and they rejected him?

Suffice to say, Roman was very distracted the day after he shared his story, which was not a good state of mind to have at only his second day on the job at the Sanders Café. Barely an hour into his shift, he ended up dropping a container of coffee grounds, its contents spilling across the floor. It had only been half-full, but this latest mistake only made Roman feel like more of a screw up. He stared down at the mess, his mouth falling open as he was jerked out of his fog.

His fellow barista—Alex, today, apparently—groaned and turned away, hands thrown up in the air. “Seriously, Princey?”

Roman stammered something about getting a broom, very aware of the snickers and annoyed mutterings of a few customers waiting in line, only to run right into Thomas, their manager, who had clearly seen the whole thing. Of course, he had. The area behind the counter wasn’t exactly huge.

Thomas took a step back, eyebrows furrowed as he steadied the flustered barista. “Hey, Roman?” he said, “why don’t you go take a ten minute break in the back? I’ll clean this up.”

Roman immediately jerked upright, eyes widening. “Thomas, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I swear it was an accident—”

“Woah, Roman,” Thomas said, his voice a little higher than usual. “You’re not in trouble, I promise. It’s only your second day. Just go take a break. Sit down for a bit. Reset. I’ll clean up and man the register.”

Roman nodded and sheepishly walked off, glancing back in time to see the other barista take the broom from Thomas and shoo him towards the register.

He sat down in the office in the back, putting his head in his hand. He glanced at the time on his watch, a cheap but nice-looking piece with a red band that Logan and Patton had bought for him, and sighed through his nose. He’d already messed up so bad that he’d been put in time out, and he had several hours left in his shift. Plenty of time to get himself fired, at the rate he was messing things up.

He had to focus if he wanted to do well and actually keep this job; but all he could think about was the night before and the daunting prospect of what was to come.

Not for the first time, Roman wished he still had a phone. Maybe if he could message Patton and Logan, he could put his mind at ease. They’d reacted sympathetically the night before, but he couldn’t help but think that they very well could have changed their minds. And he suspected that they were going to tell Val a condensed version of the tale, if they hadn’t already. They hadn’t really talked about that, but they should have. Roman would have asked them to hold off. Yet another worry of his was that she would hear about how this was all his fault and decide to kick him out again.

There’s nothing you can do about it right now, he told himself, shaking his head harshly. He sat up suddenly straight. He shouldn’t be worrying about all of this now; he was at work. He had a job. People were counting on him, even if it was only to help give people their caffeine and pastry fix. Thomas and ‘Alex’ shouldn’t have to do the job all by themselves.

He closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly, his posture erect. It was no different to a performance, he told himself. He just needed to put everything else aside and get into the right mindset.

Eventually, the ten minutes passed, and Roman made his way back to the front. He straightened his company shirt and apron, squared his shoulders, and stepped out. Thomas was seated on a stool behind the register, while ‘Alex’ was busy making some kind of chocolate syrup, sprinkle, and whipped cream-covered drink. It looked like a pile of sugar in a cup, and it looked absolutely delicious. The mess of coffee grounds was gone.

“Grab me a lid,” ‘Alex’ said, not looking up as he approached.

Roman did, picking one up off the stack and handing it over. He was probably more pleased with himself that he grabbed the correct kind than the moment warranted; but to be fair, the bar for success was currently set at not dropping everything on the floor.

The barista grunted as if to substitute a “thank you,” then handed over the drink to a college-aged girl with enough colorful barrettes in her hair to create a double rainbow.

“Thanks,” she drawled, dropping a quarter in the tip jar.

“Thank you!” Thomas said with a smile as she swaggered off.

“Do you want me to take over?” Roman asked, coming up next to Thomas.

Thomas hummed. “Well, you can if you’d like, but I’d appreciate if you helped make drinks. That okay with you?”

Roman nodded, biting his lip. He still didn’t know how to actually work the machines, but he wasn’t going to refuse. “Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Thomas.”

It turned out that he needn’t have worried about not knowing how to operate the machines. As he probably should have expected given the coffee grounds incident, his coworker was rather reluctant to let him put together the drinks. ‘Alex’ mostly had him fetch things, like the caramel or chocolate syrup, whipped cream bottles, lids, and firmly closed containers of coffee or milk.

Because nothing was perfect, while Roman was definitely more on his game than before, he did still make a few mistakes. One time, Roman handed over the almond milk instead of soy milk, and the other barista groaned like Roman had just made the screw-up of the century.

“Princey. This is almond milk. I asked for soy milk. They are not the same thing. What if the customer was allergic to almonds? You could have just put someone in the hospital!”

Roman opened his mouth and shut it again. Finally, he just huffed, took the almond milk back, and switched it out for the correct one.

“Thank you,” the barista said in an exaggerated tone, adding the milk to the drink.

Thomas glanced over. “Storm Cloud,” he said, making ‘Alex’s’ face redden under its pale foundation, “it was an honest mistake. We all have off days.”

Roman felt a rush of gratefulness for Thomas.

“Right, right,” the other barista grumbled. “It just happens that some of us have more of them than others.”

Roman felt his face turn pink. He wanted to argue that it was only his second day, that the other barista was judging him before even getting to know him, that he could do much better than this. But he also really wanted to keep this job. And besides—with how Roman’s life had turned out so far, who was he to say that he could do anything right?

So, instead, he just irritably got back to being ‘Alex’s’ errand boy, fetching lids and straws and ingredients, until finally the end of their shift arrived, and Roman could go home. Or at least, back to what he hoped he could still consider his home. At least he didn’t mess anything else up that day.

“Good job today, Roman,” Thomas said as he took off his apron. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, can’t wait for him to mess up more stuff,” ‘Alex’ muttered, too quietly for Thomas to hear, and just barely loud enough for Roman to make out. “Just wait until he actually tries to pour a cup of coffee.”

Roman shot a glance at the other barista, then flashed a strained smile at Thomas. “See you tomorrow.”

…

Roman walked back home—or at least, to Logan’s house—slowly. He would have been scuffing his feet along the sidewalk if he weren’t so reluctant to damage the shoes that Logan and Patton had bought for him. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the others, knowing they’d probably want to talk about the night before.

He arrived and let out a long, heavy sigh. He didn’t see anyone right away, so he just plodded up to the guest room—“his” room, for however much longer that would last—and threw himself down on the bed.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, his face pressed into the comforter, before he heard a quiet knock at his door.

“Roman?”

Roman sighed in resignation, pushed himself up off of the bed, and went to answer the door. He pulled it open, and there was Patton, standing with a few pieces of paper in his arms and a simultaneously concerned and hopeful look on his face.

“Sorry, kiddo, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No—no, you didn’t,” Roman assured him, shifting on his feet. He offered a dazzling smile. “Um, what brings you here?”

Patton smiled, perking up instantly. “I think I found them,” he said, starting to rock back and forth where he stood. “Can I show you? I wanted to make sure, before we tried to contact them or anything. But I think I did it!”

Roman’s gaze drifted to the papers in Patton’s arms. The cold feeling of dread settled in his chest. He had found them? In one day? Roman supposed that made sense, since they probably weren’t exactly hiding; but that still felt like far too fast. He knew he ought to be excited, but the feeling wouldn’t come.

Patton hesitated, searching Roman’s face. His rocking slowed to a stop. “Maybe this could wait?” he suggested hesitantly.

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but could only nod.

“Have you had lunch?”

Roman shook his head.

“Okay!” Patton said. “After lunch it is.”

“You didn’t eat yet?” Roman’s eyebrows furrowed, looking up from the papers in Patton’s hands. It had to be nearly 3 PM by now, right? Roman had gotten off work at 2.

“Nope! I wanted to wait for you. It’s just the two of us today; that okay?”

“Yeah, Pat, of course,” Roman had expected to be eating alone, after all. “I don’t mind.”

“So, how was work?” Patton asked as they made their way downstairs.

“Oh, uh… it was alright.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” Roman smiled for good measure.

“Well, I’m glad. Maybe you can tell me about it while we eat.”

“Oh, there’s not much to tell. Just making coffee, thanking people for 25 cent tips.”

“But you like it there?”

Roman shrugged. “Might be too soon to tell, but it’s alright.” Thomas was nice, at least. As for Alex, or Enrique, or Terrence, or whatever… Roman couldn’t say. He hoped they’d get along eventually.

…

Roman stared down at the phone in his hand, borrowed from Patton. His mamá’s name was displayed on the screen. All he had to do was press a button, and he could talk to her. Assuming she answered.

“Do you want to be alone, maybe?” Patton asked gently. “Logan and I can go.” He and his boyfriend were seated on either side of Roman, for moral support.

“No—no, that’s okay,” Roman said. His mouth was dry. He took a shaky breath, hesitated, and took another. He pressed the button.

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times.

“Hello?” a lightly accented voice asked. “Who—?”

Roman’s thumb smacked the end call button.

Logan looked confused. “Was that not her?”

Patton shushed him, murmuring quietly, before turning back to Roman. “Roman, there’s no rush. If you’re not ready, we can wait.”

“No… I’m sorry, I don’t… I panicked a little there.” He laughed nervously. “That was… that was her.”

“Should we try again?”

Roman nodded, staring at the phone. He proceeded to sit there, staring at it, for several minutes in silence. Patton put a hand between his shoulder blades and rested it there.

Roman hit the call button.

The phone rang. Only once this time.

“Hello, who is this?”  

Roman inhaled shakily.

“Hola, Mamá,” he said, fleetingly proud of the fact that his voice hardly wobbled.

There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. Roman’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“¿Mijo, por qué me llamas?”

Roman swallowed, his heart sinking even further at her tone. She didn’t want to hear from him; of course she didn’t want to hear from him; why would she? He should have just stayed away. What had he thought would happen? Of course she hated him. He would have ended the call right then, but he felt too devastated to move.

“¿Ya estás en problemas de nuevo? Re—”

Roman gasped loudly, realization hitting him; and his mamá broke off in surprise. She thought he was his brother. Of course, he should have realized sooner.

“No, no, Mamá,” he said desperately. “Soy yo. Soy Roman.”

There was a pause. Roman could feel himself sweating. His heart pattered discordantly, like a stone falling down a staircase. A tiny flame of hope flared within him, one he didn’t dare allow to grow. He beat it down in silence, waiting. It felt like decades before his mamá responded.

“¿Es un chiste? ¿Te estás burlando de mí?”

She thought it was a joke, that he—or rather, Roman’s twin brother—was making fun of her. “No, Mamá, te prometo. Soy Roman.” His voice broke, shaking as he fought to get the words out. That must have been what convinced her.

“¿…Roman?” she repeated, breathy, shocked.

Patton’s hand rubbed his back in slow circles. Logan was silent, clearly uncomfortable and unsure how to help; but he hadn’t left, which Roman appreciated.

“Sí,” Roman confirmed once more. “Sí, soy yo.” He took a breath. “Mamá, lo siento, lo siento muchísimo—”

Roman’s mamá found her voice at the same time. “Roman, mijito, ¿dónde estás? ¿Qué te pasó? Cariño, cariño—”  She was crying, talking so fast Roman could barely keep up, asking what had happened, where he had been all this time, if he was okay, why he had disappeared.

All Roman could seem to do was to keep repeating that he was okay and that he was sorry. Patton kept rubbing between his shoulder blades. Logan was studying the floor.

…

Patton was slowly rubbing Roman’s back, trying to offer his silent support as his friend called his mom for the first time since he’d disappeared five years before. He could only properly hear half the conversation, although he could hear Roman’s mamá muffled voice through the speaker—she must have been practically shouting, and Patton couldn’t exactly blame her. He didn’t speak Spanish, but he caught a few words here and there. Names, phrases like “soy yo” and “lo siento” that were repeated over and over again. At one point, he heard Roman’s mamá shout, very clearly, something that Patton was pretty sure meant “We thought you were dead!”

Slowly, as time went on, the exchange began to calm down, becoming more of a proper conversation. Patton couldn’t have told you what exactly they said; but he didn’t mind not being able to listen in, or that Roman had probably chosen to speak in Spanish for this exact reason. This way, he could be supportive without any guilt about eavesdropping.

He just kept rubbing a hand between Roman’s shoulder blades, waiting.

After a while, Roman moved the phone away from his lips, glancing furtively at Patton. “She, um… she wants me to come see her.”

Patton smiled at him. “That’s good, isn’t it? I’m sure she’s missed you.”

Roman nodded, looking worried.

“If you are concerned about potentially missing work,” Logan offered, “you can call and ask for the time off. You could also utilize a weekend, and minimize any potential missed time.”

Roman still looked unsure.

Patton opened his mouth, to ask what he was thinking, but Roman was already returning to the call.

…

“Está Dad en casa?” Roman asked, avoiding answering his mamá’s question about a visit for the moment.

His mamá hesitated, then responded, “Lo siento, Roman, no está. Trabaja hoy. Lo siento. Sé que quieres hablar con él también.”

Roman’s eyes flicked downwards. He felt a conflicting mixture of relieved and disappointed that his dad wasn’t there to answer the call. “No, no, no te preocupes. Puedo llamar otra vez.” There would be plenty of time to talk to him later, surely?

“Lo siento. ¿Y, Roman? Por favor, dime. ¿Estás seguro? ¿No estás en peligro?”

“Estoy seguro,” he reassured her. He was safe now, anyway. “Estoy con… con unos amigos, en una ciudad al suroeste de Saint Gabriel. Les llaman Logan, Patton y Val. Me están ayudando. Te llamo en el celular de Patton, de hecho.”

“Me alegro de que estés seguro, y con amigos. Pero, mijo, todavía no me has respondido. ¿Dónde estabas por tanto tiempo? ¿Dónde estás ahora? ¿Qué te pasó?”

Roman swallowed. “Pues…”

The conversation was a bit of a blur after that. His mamá was very upset, of course, as Roman had known she would be. She wanted answers, and Roman knew he owed them to her. Still, there was only so much he could say without breaking down completely.

He told her the basics. That he had been rejected from Saint Gabriel, that he had been embarrassed to tell his parents, and that he had ended up homeless until very recently. He told her that he had a job now, and that he was staying with some friends. There were certain things that he left out, a lot of things; but regardless, Roman’s mamá sounded absolutely heartbroken.

At one point while he spoke, Logan had left and come back with a few glasses of water. Roman took a sip from his, casting a brief, grateful glance in Logan’s direction.

Finally, they agreed that they would talk about everything in person as soon as possible, and that Roman would call her every night until then—this, of course, he okayed with Patton, first.

“¿Cuándo puedo llamar a Dad?” Roman asked. He would like to talk with his dad as soon as possible. Now that he’d ripped off the band-aid, contacting his parents at all, putting it off would only draw out his stress.

“Hmm… debo hablar con él primero.”

“¿No puedo llamarlo esta noche?” Roman frowned. He supposed he understood his mamá wanting to talk to his dad before he did, so that he wasn’t as taken off guard as she was; but she was talking like Roman might not be able to call him that night at all.

She hesitated. “Roman, hay algo que necesitas saber…”

…

Logan stepped into the hallway and quietly closed the bedroom door behind him. He sighed and padded down the hall and down the staircase. His boyfriend looked up as he entered the living room.

“Any news?”

“No, he simply asked to be left alone. He claims to want to get some extra rest for his shift tomorrow.”

“It’s only seven,” Patton said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“Clearly, something was said on the call that upset him,” Logan said, sitting beside Patton, who leaned over and rested his head on his shoulder. “He will speak to us when he is ready.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed him into this,” Patton mumbled. “This is my fault.”

“No, love,” Logan said. “Whatever happened, it is not your fault. You only desired to help him, and you did help. He needed to contact his parents, whatever the outcome. They deserve to know that he is well, and he deserves to have a relationship with them if he desires it. Even if something went wrong, this was only the first contact he has had with either of them in years. His mother requested that he call every night, did she not?”

“Yes…”

“So it follows that there will be plenty of time to work out any issues. I’d imagine that Roman’s parents are upset at his disappearance, and at the situation he found himself in.”

“What if it’s more than that?”

“Well, even if there is something more going on, something that cannot be fixed with patience and communication, we are here.”

Patton nodded, his head still resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Logan leaned over and kissed his forehead.

…

“Knock, knock,” Patton called, knocking on the closed door. He waited a second, but received no answer. He bit his lip. “Can I come in, kiddo?”

Still no response.

“I’m opening the door, okay?”

He turned the knob and nudged the door open. The bedroom within was dark. Patton could see Roman lying facedown on the bed, his arms wrapped around the pillow.

“Ro?” Patton asked, softening his voice.

“I’m asleep,” Roman said into the pillow, very clearly not asleep.

“Dinner’s ready,” Patton tempted. “Val made quesadillas. And there’s a couple of sides, if you’re not feeling like those.”

“Hmph.”

Patton stepped closer. “Kiddo, what happened? Can you talk to me?”

Roman’s response was too muffled to make out. Patton wasn’t sure it was even real words.

“Do you want me to go? I can just bring you a plate, and let you rest.”

Roman didn’t say anything to that, so Patton walked up to the bed and sat down at Roman’s side.

“Roman, I want to help, but I don’t know how. Can you tell me?”

Roman didn’t answer for a while. They sat there in near silence, Val and Logan’s conversation just audible from the dining room below. Finally, Roman turned his head so that his face was no longer smushed into the pillow. “It’s my dad,” he mumbled.

“Your dad?”

“He doesn’t want to see me.”

“You can’t know that. You haven’t even talked to him. Did your mom say that?”

“She didn’t have to. He thinks I’m like him. That I’m just….” Roman let out a heavy sigh. “That I’m no good.”

Patton decided not to ask who “him” was. “Why would he think that?”

Roman snorted. His tone was bitter as he responded, “You’ve already forgotten what I told you?”

“You mean the plagiarism? Roman, as soon as you explain, they’ll know that wasn’t your fault. Just tell them what you told me and Logan. They’ll understand. It’s obvious they love you. I don’t speak Spanish, sure, but I heard it in your mom’s voice.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because—why would they believe me? And even if they did, I still lied, and I ghosted them. That was all me.”

“You were scared. Kids do stupid stuff when they’re scared.”

“I wasn’t a kid.”

“Okay, so you were eighteen. I’m twenty-one and I still do stupid stuff.”

“Not that stupid.”

Patton shrugged. “You’re trying to fix it now, right?”

Roman was silent.

“That’s all we can do, Roman. We mess up, and we try to do better. You’re trying to do better, here. Your dad will see that. And even if he doesn’t, well, I do. Logan does. Val does, too.”

And, hey, if Val could warm up to Roman, a homeless man she didn’t even know, and Logan could befriend his former “nemesis,” then surely Roman’s own dad would come around, too.

“I know you’re worried about what he’s going to say. But you haven’t even talked to him yet. I think we just have to be careful not to get ahead of ourselves.”

Roman shifted. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Patton figured that that was the best he was going to get, at least until Roman had spoken with his dad. “Do you want to come down for dinner? Or I could bring you something.”

“No… I think I’m just going to stay here. Long day. Work tomorrow. You know.”

“That’s fine. Just make sure you eat some breakfast tomorrow, okay? Can’t have you going to work hungry.”

“Yeah, Pat, I will.” He yawned. Whether it was for show or not, Patton couldn’t say.

“I could stay here a bit, if you want?”

“I’ll be okay. Thanks, though.” He buried his face back in the pillow, as if to end the conversation.

Patton nodded to himself, then got to his feet. He went back out into the hall and quietly closed the door behind him. He hoped things went well for Roman. He deserved that.

…

“Roman. Roman, wake up.”

“Mph?” Roman shifted, his mind still murky, and lifted his head from where his face had been smushed into the pillow beneath it. He looked to the side, and saw a large, dark figure leaning over him. “Ahh!!”

It drew back sharply, and the light fell across its face.

It was Logan, wearing pajamas and with a towel around his shoulders. He looked startled.

“Apologies, Roman, but you need to wake up,” he said. “You overslept.”

“What?!”

“I was getting ready, and I saw your door was still shut. You must have forgotten to set your alarm, or fallen back asleep by mistake.”

Roman shot upright. “What time is it?!”

“Almost seven—”

“I’m an hour late? Oh my god, I’m going to get fired!” Roman fisted his hands in the blankets, looking up at Logan in horror.

“There’s no need to panic, I’m sure they’ll forgive one mistake. Get dressed, I’ll drive you to work.”

“Okay, okay, okay…” Roman leapt out of bed and ushered Logan out. He got dressed as fast as possible and ran downstairs, taking the steps two at a time and nearly sending himself sprawling at the bottom.

Logan was by the front door, holding his car keys. He was still in pajama pants, his hair damp, but wearing shoes instead of slippers now.

“Won’t you be late if you drive me?” Roman asked, thinking out loud.

“Don’t worry about me,” Logan assured. “This is for the best, anyhow. It’s raining outside this morning.” He held out an umbrella. “It’s Patton’s. In case it’s still raining this afternoon. We can pick one up for you later.”

“Thanks,” Roman said, taking the umbrella. He would have protested, but they were short on time, and he knew that Patton didn’t plan to go anywhere that day.

They walked out to the car and drove to the café. Logan passed over a couple of breakfast bars for Roman to eat along the way, which he hardly tasted. When they finally arrived, Roman barely paused to thank Logan for the ride before he hopped out and all but ran inside.

His fellow barista was alone behind the counter, today wearing a name tag labelled ‘Ángel’ on his Sanders Café shirt.

“Have a great day,” he was saying as he approached, a customer-service smile in place. Then he turned to Roman with a thunderous expression. “About time you showed up!” he whisper-yelled, glaring. The difference between his former tone and the biting one he snapped at Roman with was jarring.

“I am so, so sorry,” Roman said, speed-walking towards him. “Where’s Thomas? Is he here?”

“I had the great fortune of both of you being late today,” he answered, moving to grab a coffee cup. “Now get on the register, you have no idea how much of a pain it is to do two jobs at once.”

Roman left his jacket and Patton’s umbrella in the back and grabbed his apron. He came back out, still tying it behind his back. “So it was just you here?” he checked, guilt churning in his stomach.

“Obviously! Now get, like, cashier-ing!”

On the bright side, that meant that Thomas didn’t know he’d been late; but Roman highly doubted that ‘Ángel’ would neglect to tell him about Roman’s tardiness. He didn’t owe Roman anything, and he certainly didn’t seem in a forgiving mood.

Maybe Thomas would go easy on him, since he was late, too? Or had Roman used up his leniency the day before with his clumsiness?

He got through the next few orders; and when the line was gone for the moment, Roman turned back to ‘Ángel’.

“I am so sorry,” he said again. “I overslept. It was stupid, but it was a one-time thing, I promise.”

“Oh, you overslept?” he said dryly. “Boo-freaking-hoo. My neighbor’s stupid polka music kept me up until two in the freaking morning, and I still managed to show up on time.”

Roman looked at him in dismay, but he could tell he was getting nowhere with this, so he just sighed and turned back to the register.

…

Ten minutes later, Thomas arrived. He pulled up in one of the spaces closest to the building, turned off the car, and stepped out. As Roman had noticed the day before, he again paused to casually lean on the side of his car for a moment. He’d pegged it on Thomas enjoying some sunshine before being stuck inside for the next eight hours; but it was raining this morning. He would be soaked if he stayed out there much longer.

‘Ángel’ sighed and looked at Roman. “I’ll be right back. Try not to break anything.” Then he grabbed a drink carrier, put it over his head like an improvised umbrella, and went outside. Roman watched, confused, as he spoke to Thomas for a couple of seconds, then took his arm and walked them both back inside.

“Is everything okay?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, just move your butt.”

“Everything’s fine, Roman,” Thomas said, smiling, sitting down on the stool that Roman vacated. He looked a little breathless, shrugging off his rain jacket. The other barista took it from him and walked to the back, glaring at Roman once more as if this was somehow his fault. He came back with an apron instead of the jacket, which he handed to Thomas along with a few paper towels. “Thanks, V.”

V? Roman glanced at the other barista as Thomas rubbed at his face with the towels, slotting away that information for later.

“Now,” Thomas glanced around the coffee shop as he put on his apron. “There seems to be a bit of a lull, so why don’t you show Roman how to use some of the machines? I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to train him yet.”

“Maybe I could have earlier, if he’d shown up on time,” V muttered.

Roman’s heart sank.

“He was late?” Thomas turned to Roman.

“A little…” Roman admitted, mortified.

“He showed up just before you did.”

Thomas paused. “Well, it is the first time, isn’t it? And I think I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I was mad at him for being late today, of all days.”

“That’s different,” V claimed.

“How?”

“Well—well, you’re the manager, for one. Aren’t your hours flexible anyway?”

“Yes, but I did promise to be here early today. Sorry about that, by the way. I got held up.”

V looked away and made an annoyed sound in his throat. It sounded almost like a hiss.

Thomas studied his face. “You feeling alright, Storm Cloud?”

“I’m great. Fantastic. Never been better.”

Thomas squinted disbelievingly. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Fine.”

“Big polka music fan?” Roman dared to ask in a low voice.

Thomas glanced at Roman, a look of understanding growing on his face. This must not have been the first time V was kept up by his neighbor’s musical taste. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “You’re going to show Roman how to work everything, and then you’re going to go lie down in the back. I can give Roman a hand if he needs it, and if we really need you, I’ll come get you.”

V grumbled again; but he just jerked a hand, beckoning Roman over to the machines.

…

The machines turned out to not be as complicated as Roman had feared, once he actually knew what he was doing. V was a reluctant teacher, making everything sound like it should have been obvious, but it could have been much worse. He clearly wanted to be done with it as soon as possible, but he did make sure Roman understood everything before he pronounced his training complete.

Now, he was alone, making drinks and doling out pastries while Thomas sat at the register, taking the orders. V was in the back, taking a nap.

Roman couldn’t believe that. Thomas had actually told V to take a nap on company time. And he hadn’t been angry with Roman for being late for his third day on the job. Thomas was just too nice.

Out of gratefulness for his manager’s kindness, and the still-present fear that he was messing up too much to hope to keep this job, Roman took great care to make his drinks as perfectly and timely as possible. And by some miracle, he managed not to mess anything up. The biggest mistake he made was spilling a couple of drops of milk on the counter, something easily wiped away and not even noticed by anyone else.

V returned after a couple of hours, whispered something to Thomas, and joined Roman in making drinks. He seemed relieved when he saw how Roman was doing, and he didn’t snap at him for the rest of the shift. Perhaps he had just been tired earlier, and stressed from having to do the first hour of their shift alone. Roman couldn’t fault him for that.

So, the rest of the shift went without incident. It wasn’t even until it was over that Roman remembered that he was supposed to call his parents again that afternoon.

…

“Here you go, kiddo,” Patton said, handing over his cell phone.

“Thanks,” Roman said, looking down at it.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Roman shook his head. Patton didn’t need to hear his dad’s anger. “Thanks, though.”

Patton nodded, smiled at him, and went out into the hall.

Roman pulled his legs up on the bed and crossed them, still looking down at the phone. When he decided he was about as ready as he was going to get, he selected his mamá’s contact and hit the call button.

She picked up almost immediately. “¿Roman? ¿Estás tú?”

Roman smiled weakly, rubbing his jeans with one hand. “Hola, Mamá.”

“¿Cómo estás?”

“Bien… ¿y tú?”

“Estoy bien, mijo, muy bien. Me hace muy feliz oír tu voz.”

Roman looked down, a little embarrassed. “I missed you, too.”

“I have your dad here, si quieres hablarle.”

Roman hesitated. Was he ready to talk to his dad?

“…Um. Sí. Yes.”

There was a brief pause, and then a different voice came on the phone.

“Hi, Roman. Is that really you?”

“Hi, Dad… yeah, it’s me. I promise.”

“And you’re okay?”

Roman swallows. “Yes. I am.”

“Good.” There was a heavy pause. “Roman, if you were in trouble, why didn’t you just come to us for help? What the hell were you thinking?”

“Dad—”

“You lied to us, for how long? And then you just disappeared, no warning, nothing, for five years? Roman, why on Earth would you do something like that? Don’t you know how worried we were? We thought you were dead! We thought you were dead; and the police wouldn’t even help us because you were already eighteen; and then when we finally got Saint Gabriel to talk to us, they said you were never even a student there. Do you know what you put your mamá through?”

Tears welled up in Roman’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Dad, I’m sorry. Please… I made a mistake. A stupid mistake.”

Roman could hear his mamá’s muffled voice on the other end of the line, talking to his dad.

His dad let out a long sigh. “I know,” he said. “I know you’re sorry. And you have no idea how glad I am to hear from you, to know that you’re okay. “

There was a lump in Roman’s throat.

“But I hope you know we have a lot to talk about. You can’t just disappear for five years and not have us ask any questions.”

“I know.” Roman paused to rub the tears away from his eyes.

“Your mamá says you’re coming to visit. Do you know when that’ll be?”

“Um. Soon. I still have to figure that out. I have work and stuff.”

“Yes, your mamá mentioned that. You’re at a café, you said?”

“Yeah. I’m a—I’m a barista.”

“Not Starbucks, I hope.”

Roman huffed out a laugh. His dad hated Starbucks, for reasons Roman never understood. “No, it’s not Starbucks.”

“And they’ll give you the time off?”

“I hope so. I haven’t been there very long, but my manager’s pretty understanding.” Very understanding, honestly, with the sub-par—to put it lightly—performance Roman had been giving.

“That’s good. So, your mamá says you’re staying with friends. What are they like?”

“They’re nice, Dad, really nice. They’ve been helping me out. I owe them a lot.”

He and his dad spoke for a while longer. Things gradually grew less tense, more comfortable. Most of the more awkward topics were avoided, but they could talk about that later. They would be able to piece things back together, Roman hoped. This was just the start.

...

(If you would like to read Roman’s conversations with his mamá in English, you can find them here)

[kindofcashton]

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕  •  chapter 1  (Calum Hood AU)

RAIN SLID DOWN the windows of the taxi in iridescent gray droplets. Outside, the sky was a silken silver, the occasional peak of sunlight threatening to break through the clouds. Blanketed over everything, from the treetops to the sidewalks, was a cool dampness that left a chill in the air.

My breath began fogging up the glass, and I wiped a hand across the window to clear my view. I always loved rain, and the way it seemed to soak the whole world. It was calming in a way, almost an excuse to slow down and just breathe.

In the seat next to me, Hannah clearly wasn't as big a fan of the dismal day as I was. Her sighs whooshed through the small cabin like gale force winds. The crossing of her arms and scowl on her lips was another indication of her utter displeasure.

"I promise you it's not like this all the time," she told me, irritation edging her tone. She glanced up at the driver, and threw her hands in the air. "Could you pick it up a little please? I'd like to get there sometime this week."

A small smile twitched at my lips. Hannah was quite the character, but in the 7 months I'd known her she'd become one of my best friends. Living together in a cramped dorm would sort of force you to become at least sort of friends, and luckily the two of us hit it off immediately. We had very different approaches to college life, but it was actually nice having someone so unlike me around. When differences would normally push people apart, they brought us closer together.

"I don't mind the weather, actually," I commented. "I used to love the rain as a kid."

Hannah snorted good naturedly. "Of course the philosophical scholar would love rain." I chuckled at her joke, and turned my attention back to the window.

As well as being serene, the rain was also a great distraction. A thousand thoughts were swirling through my mind, but I let the raindrops wash them away until my brain was empty. I promised myself I wouldn't worry over things anymore; everything was totally out of my control.

"Finally," Hannah exclaimed as we turned down a neighborhood road. I watched the houses blur by, all of them quaint and colorful. Hannah was right; this area was amazing.

"I hope the guys are all home," she voiced, frowning. "Ash texted and said he was over." Hannah's demeanor visibly brightened when she mentioned her boyfriend. Ashton had been a staple in her life ever since I'd known her. The two of them started dating in high school, and even when she went off to college and he stayed back they never broke up. Their relationship wasn't all sunshine, though; I'd heard her scream at him through voicemail more times than I could count, and he often blew up her phone with texts for hours on end. But they were madly in love, and I doubted they'd ever split.

The other guys were a mystery to me. From what Hannah had told me briefly before we left, Luke, Michael, and Calum lived together while Ashton had his own apartment. Her boyfriend had a pretty well established job apparently, but the other three were still figuring things out. Michael was described as "colorful in more ways than one", which confused me to no end. Luke was the "pierced puppy", a rugged exterior with a sweet personality. And Calum was the quiet one, always in the room but never in the conversation. Hannah insisted he wasn't a creep though, and that she actually really liked him despite his lack of participation.

I hoped the guys were as great as she described, seeing as I'd be spending a lot of time with them in the near future. Hannah had basically forced me to come back with her when we both left uni, and even though she lived with Ashton when she wasn't at school she offered to stay at the house with me so we could all be together.

Seeing as I didn't have many more options, I agreed. That's the thing about being stone-cold broke; you take what you can get.

"Here you go," the driver said tiredly. Hannah threw him a wad of cash, and he looked at me in the rear view mirror. My cheeks flushed crimson, and I forced a sheepish smile before getting out of the car.

"I feel like I'm drowning!" Hannah yelled over the pouring rain, pulling her suitcases out of the trunk. I squinted against the onslaught of rain, fumbling to get my own bags and praying I didn't forget anything. I heard someone's voice call out from the porch of the house, and Hannah cheered in response. She ran up the driveway, suitcases swinging, then flung them down on the wet grass without hesitation so she could jump into the arms of whoever was waiting. Ashton, I assumed.

The cab backed out of the driveway, and I struggled to lift all of my bags which were slick with rain. A figure appeared in front of me, clad in jeans and a damp hoodie.

"Need some help?" I caught the subtle glint of a lip ring, and guessed this was Luke. Breaking into a grateful smile, I nodded.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" I said, handing him a suitcase. He laughed, head ducked to avoid getting rain in his eyes.

"Makes me want to stay outside, soak up the sun," he replied, leading me up toward the front door.

Once inside, I dropped the bags in my hands and pushed my sopping wet hair out of my face. A quick once-over of the house showed me a living room to my left, what looked like a kitchen extending off of that, and staircases winding to an upstairs that had half a dozen closed doors.

Hannah was still attached to Ashton, but tore her lips from his long enough to say, "What do you think, Scar?"

Luke's blue eyes looked at me quizzically. "'Scar?'"

I extended a hand. "Scarlett." He shook it with a jovial smile, and I gave Hannah a questioning look. "You didn't tell them my name?"

She shrugged, giggling as Ashton kissed the side of her head. "Guess I forgot."

Embarrassment sizzled through me, no doubt making my skin flush. The last thing I wanted was to be a nuisance to the guys who were so graciously letting me stay. I mean, a random girl barging into their lives, living in their house, without them knowing so much as her name? It was a miracle they didn't hate me off the bat.

"Are you sure you have to stay here?" Ashton asked Hannah, hands looped around her waist as she tousled his hair. "I want you with me."

"Sorry Ash, but I'm here for my girl. You can stay too, if you want. We can share the bed, even if it does get a little cramped." She poked his chest suggestively, and Luke rolled his eyes at the two of them.

"Alright, hormone monsters, dismount before I go blind from watching you," he reprimanded, shooting me a smirk. I liked Luke; he was so easy-going, and I'd only known him for less than five minutes.

"Ashton, I don't really care if you stick around. Hannah'll be staying in the basement with the futon couch, so you're welcome to share."

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "You stuck me in the basement? Where is Scarlett staying?"

"Michael's room. He offered to take the couch."

I instantly spoke up. "He doesn't have to do that, I'll gladly sleep down here—"

"Not happening," a voice interrupted from upstairs. I looked up to see someone leaning against the railing, watching us from above. He had fire engine red hair arranged in haphazard spikes fringed across his forehead, and what looked like a piercing through his eyebrow.

I guessed it was Michael, judging by the red hair which must have been what Hannah meant by "colorful."

"You couldn't drag me back to my room if you tried. You're sleeping in it whether you like it or not."

I huffed disbelievingly, slightly confused why he was being so generous. A small fear that Hannah told them a bit too much information about me and my life crept into my brain, and I fought to ignore it.

"I really don't want to intrude, it's your house after all," I responded as Michael made his way down the stairs to join us.  I wasn't one to accept charity easily, even though I knew I had to right now. He was just being kind, but I didn't want to make the impression that I was selfish.

"If you really feel that bad about it we can switch off every other week."  His goofy smile told me he was joking, but I appreciated the effort even still.  I just shrugged in defeat, and shot him a warm smile.

Michael clasped his fingers together, a grin stretching his lips. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starved. Pizza?"

Luke groaned. "How many times are we gonna order pizza, Mike? Some of us get sick of it, you know."

Michael flipped his middle finger up at Luke, and I resisted a grin. Maybe staying with these guys wouldn't be so hard.  Judging from our first interactions, we'd get along great.

The only one I hadn't met yet was Calum, and when I asked Hannah where he was she merely rolled her eyes.

"Who even knows?  He'll roll in at around midnight and be gone by noon the next day."

Frowning, I followed the others to the living room as Michael went to order in the pizza.  Why would they all want to be friends with someone like Calum?  He didn't sound very nice at all.  But even so, Hannah spoke about him with a certain forgiving tone, and I think she truly did care about him. The five of us gathered on the big couches, Hannah laying across Ashton of course, and turned on some action movie that Luke and Michael got overly excited about.

"This is the best scene, watch," Luke said to me, pointing as the hero and the villain began fist-fighting in a series of jumpy, jarring cuts.  I raised my eyebrows doubtfully, and when he glanced over to see my reaction I laughed.

"It's really good, I swear.  After this, he's gonna go blow up that building and—"

All of a sudden, the front door opened with a bang, announcing a new arrival.  Michael shot up from the sofa, and called out a greeting.

Hannah jutted her head toward the foyer.  "Let's go."  We all followed Michael toward the front door, and saw someone holding a few boxes of pizza loosely in his arms.

His dark hair was wet and plastered across his forehead, looking curled and disheveled.  A black leather jacket shone with raindrops, the band tee shirt underneath spattered with water.  Black jeans tucked into dark boots, and a scowl to match the overall dreary aesthetic was painted across his face.

I knew it was Calum without even asking.

"Look who finally showed up!" Luke accused, arms folded with a smirk.

Calum used one hand to push his wet hair back, the other holding the pizza.  "You seriously ordered pizza again?  The delivery guy practically threw these at me because he was so sick of seeing Michael every other day."

Michael snorted, and happily took the pizzas from Calum into the kitchen.  He then turned his freezing gaze into me, and his brown eyes were entirely unreadable as he scanned my appearance.

I felt hot and self-conscious under his close stare, and tried to muster a smile.  "I'm Scarlett, nice to meet you."  I extended my hand, expecting him to at least shake it.  But Calum simply watched me, a blank expression on his face, and I jerked my hand back in embarrassment.

"Way to be friendly, Cal," Hannah scolded, sighing.  "Can't you be civil for like, two minutes?"

"Who shakes hands in this century?" he rebutted, the scathing look he sent my way burning into my skin.  "Whatever, I'm starving."  He started to make his way toward the kitchen, completely ignoring me as his shoulder bumped into mine.

Hannah shouted after him, "Yeah, that's what happens when all you have is beer all day."  Ashton turned and said something into her ear, and Hannah stamped her foot in response as she hissed something back.

Taken aback by Calum's chilly greeting, I began to feel less comfortable about living here.  Why couldn't he be as easy-going as the others?  He was just making things difficult by being so cold.  I knew it wasn't an opportune situation, but we all had to make the best of it.  But something told me Calum would stubbornly oppose this idea.

"Cheese or pepperoni?" Michael asked me as I handed him my plate.

"Plain is fine," I responded, and forced myself to ignore Calum's snort.  What was so wrong with liking plain pizza?  Don't let him get to you like this, Scar.  

We all gathered around the table and chowed down, and I realized this was my first real meal of the day, seeing as I'd only had a granola bar before leaving for the airport that morning.  Everything happened so fast, I felt like I'd just been in my dorm five minutes ago.  How quickly things could change.

"So, how long are you two gonna be here?  Till the next semester?"  Luke bit into the last bit of crust on his pizza, glancing between Hannah and me.

"Not sure," she answered for us, and the look we exchanged was enough communication for her to continue.  "We're pretty flexible right now, just trying to keep ourselves open for new opportunities."

"I'm hoping to take some summer courses," I added.  "Keep up with my class load."

"But it isn't even summer.  University is still in session."  Calum's voice was searing, and I winced at his words.  I was well aware of this fact, as was my empty bank account.

Hannah glared at him from across the table.  "Our schedules weren't the same as everyone else's, so we're home now.  Is that a problem?"  It was hard to believe the two of them were best friends, what with Hannah's curt tone and Calum's glower.

"No, just wondering."  I didn't expect a longer reply from him, and after he said this Calum scooted out from the table and left, without so much as clearing his empty plate.

A defeated breath whooshed out of my lips, and I slumped back in my chair as I rubbed my temples.  My first day here hadn't even ended, and already I wasn't sure how long I would last.

[edensbuttercups]

Swords and daggers - Part one

Pairing: Geralt x reader Summary: High up on the hill some mushrooms grew tall, connecting two worlds. When you stumble upon that hill one day, your world slips away from under your feet, leaving you in a foreign world that looks so similar to the one you knew so well. Word count: 2.3k  A/N: I’m not sure what I’m doing but this was born during yet another Skype lesson (I’m clearly very productive during online lessons) so here it is?? I’m not super proud of this so constructive criticism is as always appreciated ♡ Also is this initially set during the quarantine? Yes because that’s the only thing i currently know send help 

Part two Part three

You walked through the forest next to your friend. You had decided to sneak out and go for a walk where no one would see you, and that hadn’t been hard considering that not many people were around, let alone at eight in the morning. “If we keep going straight ahead we should end up on the highest part of the hill, and we might be able to see the whole city, depending on how much fog there is.” Your friend said, jumping on some small stones that lingered on the path. “I’ve never been here before” you said absentmindedly, looking high up, where the leaves met the sky and blended together. You walked some more, going higher and higher and leaving the dense trees behind. You reached the top of the hill, where the trees had left place to the beautiful sight of the old town, smoke rising from some buildings and a train leaving from the station and heading towards the horizon. You sat on one of the many stones that rested in this area and talked about how the world was changing, how you felt about it, and how you were now a part of history, each moment being a valuable evidence for the future. Hours passed, and between drawing the scenery and singing cheesy songs, you finally decided to head back home. You started walking down the track you knew so well, before stopping on your tracks. 

“I forgot my notepad! I’ll go to get it, you head home, I’ll text you tonight.” You smiled and waved, turning around once more and walking all the way up the hill again. You took a moment to look up at the sky, noticing the big moon hidden between some clouds, before leaning down to grab your notepad. You walked around, noticing some small mushrooms that had started to grow, examining them with a careful eye, not having noticed them earlier and intrigued by the energy you felt surrounding them. Some of them had interesting patterns on them, others seemed to be tinted in a variety of colors. You passed your hand on the biggest one, feeling it lightly shake under your touch. It emanated heat, and you held it softly feeling the warmth on your skin. A thin fog had started surrounding you while you studied the mushrooms, the whole world spiraling around you out of control, the shades of green blending with the blue of the sky, before darkness enveloped you in a sweet embrace.

You opened your eyes, slowly sitting up as your head pounded. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there for, but the sun hadn’t set yet. You stood up and dusted your clothes, looking up at the city as you did so. You didn’t notice anything different and picked up your things, walking down the path slowly, holding your head, trying to somehow diminish the pain you felt. “Well, hello there.” A raspy voice said from behind you. You turned to find man, sword in hand and clothes belonging to a different time. It may have been foolish of you, but you didn’t think much of it; he was probably just a drunk that had wandered into the forest. Did that explain the sword and outfit? Partly. You nodded your head towards him as a greeting and smiled, turning away, but before you could put a step forward you felt a cold blade against your neck. “Leaving already?” You were frozen in place, your lungs filled with air they were adamant to leave. “Leave her.” A voice came from nearby. You felt a rush of adrenaline, taking the opportunity to kick the man in the shin, making him topple over and yelp in pain. You took a couple of steps away, meeting your savior’s eyes, which shone with a surreal golden color. He closed the distance between him and the man, whom was now lying on the ground, and placed his sword under his chin. “Go. Now. Or you’ll regret it.” The man looked at him and then at you, rage in his eyes as he stood up cautiously, leaving his sword on the ground and walking away, disappearing behind some trees. You picked up the sword and handed it to the man that saved you, but he shook his head. Something about him made you trust him immediately; he had kind eyes, and even though he hadn’t smiled yet, you knew he also had a kind heart. He had also just saved you from a drunk creep, which added to the whole hero part. He shook his head lightly. “You need a weapon. Where do you come from?” You said the name of your city, pointing towards the nearby buildings. He furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing. “Why do you have a sword?” you asked, still confused by the whole situation. “How am I going to fight monsters if not?” he answered sarcastically, gesturing you to follow him. “Monsters?” “Yeah. I just killed a Kikimora not far from here.” You looked at him, hoping to see any sign of it being a joke, but his expression didn’t alter. “I… monsters don’t exist. Is this a joke?” this wasn’t right, yet a feeling in your gut telling you that this was indeed real, even if this reality wasn’t your own. He looked at you, glancing at your clothes, a simple blue dress, now dirty from the fall. “Come with me to town, we’ll figure something out.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, making your breath hitch at the touch. Your heart was beating without abandon, victim of a situation you would’ve never imagined possible in your wildest dreams. You walked down together, his horse walking behind you, before he broke the silence. “My name is Geralt. I’m a Witcher.” He looked at you, waiting for you to introduce yourself. “I’m y/n.” you smiled and held your hand out, expecting him to shake it, not to bring it to his lips in a kiss after a moment of hesitation. “What’s a Witcher?” you asked after a moment, smiling at the gesture.

You reached the town and headed to the tavern, waiting for Geralt to come back. Everything was different; it looked similar to the city you were so familiar with, yet older somehow. There weren’t any cars, everything was darker, dirtier, rougher. Geralt came back, handing you a drink and some bread and sitting down in front of you. You decided it was time to tell him the truth, whatever that was. You did trust him, and so far he had been patient with you, explaining what a Witcher was, what monsters he slayed and some other facts about the area. “I know you’re not going to believe me but…” you stopped, unsure as to how to phrase the incredibly ridiculous words you were about to mutter. “I think I time traveled. This is my city, but it’s not my time. And the clothes everyone is wearing? They’re not something you’d see where I come from.” As you spoke you saw the Witcher expression change, something in his gaze held understanding as he studied you. You kept his gaze, not daring to look away, adding some more details but slowly letting your words fade out, trusting the silence.  “The hill.” He muttered.  “What?”  “The hill. You woke up near on top of the hill, right?” “I did. Why?” “There’s plenty of stories surrounding that area. I’ve heard stories about a curse that lingered in that place. It never bothered anyone, but it is said that during a full moon natural forces find a way to bring you away. You’re not the first to say you belong to the future, but it usually goes the other way round. A full moon seems to be the bridge between then and now.”  “Today is a full moon.” You said, making him nod. “So, if we go back now…” you added. “That won’t work. Unfortunately, it works only one way. This time you came here, but to leave you’ll have to wait for the next full moon. At least, that’s what the stories say. Something about the moon giving you a chance to change your life, feeding from the energy you create in a time that no longer can be changed. You’ll have to stay here until the next month.”  “I can’t do that. I won’t survive here, Geralt. I almost got killed as soon as I got here, how do you expect me to-“  “I’ll be with you.” And those words were enough, but he carried on. “Follow me and I’ll take you back at the next full moon. I’ll protect you in any way I can. What I do is dangerous, and it’s not an easy life, but I’ll do just what is necessary for our survival. I’ve got enough coins for the next week, then we’ll see. What do you say?” You nodded, aware that the next month would be hard, but you didn’t have any other choice.

Geralt had gotten a room for the two of you, and since there only was one bed, he ended up sleeping on the floor. The Witcher fell asleep after no longer that 10 minutes, yet you were still nervous and confused from the day and couldn’t fall asleep. You twisted and turned, before sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at the Witcher. As you looked at him you felt your heart beat faster and grunted in annoyance. There was no point in falling in love; in a month you’d be back in the normal world, alone, and you didn’t want to have to get over a break-up. You laughed at the idea: a big and strong Witcher like him, going out with a girl from the future that almost got killed first thing in the past? Not exactly the power couple. You glanced at him once more before lying back down in the bed and closing your eyes, trying to get some sleep.

The next morning you woke up sure that it had all been a dream. You turned around, meeting the sunlight and waking up. It took you a moment to focus on your surroundings, expecting to see your walls, your furniture, your room, not an old store house, with old furniture and a creaky wooden bed. You stretched and sat on the bed, yawning while you looked around. You stood up and looked around for the Witcher, but the small room didn’t offer any doubt that he wasn’t there with you, and that just made a sense of panic rise in your gut, fearing that he had left you alone in this foreign world. You walked towards the door, your footsteps loud and quick on the old floor, making it creak, and as you opened it you crashed into the Witcher. You started to stumble backwards before two hands caught you, stopping you midair. You gasped before muttering a thank you, hiding your previous panic behind a smile, looking at his serious face. You wondered if over the course of the month you were ever going to see him smile. He bowed his head, his eyes not leaving yours, before showing you a loaf of bread he had found. He looked proud with his find as he broke it in two pieces, handing you the bigger one. “It’s all they had downstairs. It’s not much but…” “It’ll do” you finished the phrase, earning a nod. “Thank you.” You added, trying not to seem rude. You bit into the bread, a hard core protecting a stale tasting crumb. You eat it anyway, hunger devouring you. You looked at Geralt, whom had also finished eating, and sat next to him on the bed. “So, what’s the plan?” you tried to sound cheery, masking the slight fear of spending a whole month in the past. “I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself.” He placed a small dagger in your hand, the silver blade shining in the light, the handle soft to the touch with small golden details that gave it a certain elegance. You looked at him puzzled; not sure you understood the need of it. “I’m not always going to be with you. If I’ve got to slay a monster you can’t be with me. You could end up killed. Or I could get killed. You’d be alone, without a Witcher to protect you and without any knowledge on how to kill.” “Wait, you want me to kill?” “If someone intends to hurt you in any way, you make sure that whatever you do kills them, because if you’re not successful they won’t hesitate to end you.” He stood up, his harsh words still lingering in the air, offering you a hand as you stood, packing the few things that were in the room and heading out of the tavern.

You walked out of the city that you once called home feeling lost, afraid of what would become of you if you ended up being a killer and fearing the ping of electricity you felt going through your veins. You knew Geralt was right, and even though you longed to get home, you were happy that you got to share some time with him. You glanced up, studying the way he stood, so proud yet so disregarded against the stone walls, not earning many glances from the people that you passed. You had read kindness in his eyes on the very first day, but as time passed you wondered how he could cultivate such an emotion, seeing the way everyone treated him. You turned around one last time at the edge of the city, looking at the buildings that held so many memories yet now held none. You felt Geralt get closer to you and hesitantly place a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him and smiled, nodding. “Time to learn how to kill, I guess?”

[izaswritings]

all that’s left in the world | chapter seven

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: cursing, referenced character death via Neku’s situation/Reaper’s game, implied death/erasure via Inversion, and mentions of blood and bodily harm, though nothing graphic. If there’s anything in the chapter you feel I missed, let me know and I’ll add it on here!

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AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

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part seven: pact

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The sun sets.

Neku stands at the end of the street and watches, narrow-eyed, as the distant blur of light sinks below the jagged edge of the ruined city skyline. It doesn’t look quite right—because of course it doesn’t, this is a nightmare city and everything about it feels designed to be as uncanny valley as possible. He’s pretty sure it’s a sunset, though. The sky has stained a bloody red; the shadows are stretching long and thin by his feet. The cloud of dust and smog lingering in the air like a false fog has turned red too— the whole world cast in some awful, ugly light.

They’re on the edge of the city, in a residential area. The fruition of a full day of travelling through these ruined streets. It only took a couple of hours, but they’ve finally hit the end of it, the border of this twisted Game. They can’t go any further beyond this point.

There’s definitely a wall— Neku checked, and his hand still smarts from the burn—but like everything else, it’s not something he’s familiar with. The walls in the first Reaper’s Game had been clear and crystalline; this one is like blurry glass. If he squints, he can almost see through it: the suggestion of buildings, people and places alive and whole… but the way is smeared with an ashy fog. It’s as if this city has been surrounded by a great wall of mist, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

There’s no getting through that thing, Neku thinks. Not without a high level keypin, and even then, he’s not sure even that could break it. There’s something very final about this wall. Escape isn’t an option.

Argh, he can’t even figure out where they are. Those distant buildings could be Shibuya or even the other half of Tokyo, and hey! Neku wouldn’t have a damn clue. It’s not like this place has been any help. Any identifying buildings have been dusted; Neku is totally lost.

Either way, the wall isn’t coming down anytime soon. It’s useless to stay here any longer, but…

Neku grimaces, and shoves a hand back through his hair, eyeing his new partner warily. Minamimoto doesn’t seem keen on leaving; he isn’t paying any attention to Neku at all, focus entirely caught on… something.

It’s probably a tower of trash. It looks like one of his towers of trash? When they’d arrived here only twenty minutes ago, there’d been some hollow shells of cars, and weird debris littered on the ground, and the Grim Heaper had taken one look at it and grinned like a shark. Then he’d started stacking it. Neku is kind of, a little, annoyed at that. He’s also not planning on complaining. Finally, a moment to breathe.

The tower taking shape behind him, Neku watches the blood-stained air for a few minutes more, then sighs and turns away.

“We’re not blacking out,” he says, aloud. “I think we’re here for the night.” Which, go figure. The one thing that might be nice about the Game—skipping the inconveniences of shelter in an apocalyptic city—is the one thing he’s not getting. “Hey, are you listening? We should probably find somewhere to lay low.”

Minamimoto doesn’t answer. He seems intent on the tower. Neku shakes his head and moves away from the wall. Whatever. He’ll find a place himself. It’s not like they’re going to be able to go far. The sun’s setting, so… he has maybe twenty minutes before it goes totally dark.

Neku heads for one of the buildings. Sure, it’s an empty shell and looks like it might topple at a stiff breeze, but it hasn’t fallen yet all day, right? So if they’re careful, and don’t get ambushed by Noise while inside…

It’s probably fine.

It takes him a couple tries to find a room untouched. Neku gets lucky on floor number two—it used to be an apartment, probably, a small one-room place with a skeleton kitchen, whited out and hollowed and scraped clean. But there’s a bleached futon in the corner and an ashy rug on the floor and hey, it’s better than nothing, right?

He pries open the dusty window and leans out. The tower is almost completed—he’s guessing, but he’s seen enough of them to tell. “Hey,” he says.

A long pause. Minamimoto doesn’t look like he’s listening, and Neku nearly closes the window on him—let him sleep wherever then, like Neku gives a damn—but at the last moment he looks up, and his brow briefly furrows. “What, yoctogram?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel when it gets dark.” Cloud cover means no moon or stars; ruined city means no streetlamps… it’d be like the A-East mission from hell. Neku isn’t dealing with that shit, thanks. “The room has a rug. You can use it if you want.” Because hell yes is Neku taking that futon.

Minamimoto snorts and turns away, back to fussing with the trash. Neku hisses through his teeth, and slams the window shut. Whatever. He threw the dang olive branch; Neku’s work here is done. He’s tired. It’s been a long day, and all he wants to do is sleep.

He misses Shibuya.

He flops down on the futon and closes his eyes, and tries not to think of Shiki, or Beat, or even Joshua. He tries not to imagine what it would be like to be playing this Game with them, instead. What they would do. What they are doing now.

Shiki, he thinks—Shiki would hate this place. So devoid of color, and life, and just… anything Shiki’s ever loved. She’d despise it. Joshua too, he supposes. The lack of individuality—the lack of Music… they’re similar, in that way. It’s a weird thought, but it settles like a true thing: Joshua and Shiki would hate this place for the same reasons.

Beat… Beat wouldn’t have an opinion. He’d accept it, he’d move on, he’d adapt. He would want to keep searching after dark, maybe. He’d throw up a fist and declare there’s nothing that can stop them, not even the night. Neku would have to convince him otherwise.

He smiles at the thought. But it aches, too, somewhere deep in his chest. Neku squeezes his eyes shut. Stupid. And here I was, saying I wasn’t going to think about it.

They’ll be okay. Beat has Rhyme, and vice versa; they’re probably fine. Shiki has Eri. Joshua… well. Joshua.

Neku will be okay too. He doesn’t want to do this alone, but he can.

He can.

There’s a creak on the staircase; Neku opens his eyes and reaches for his pins, eyeing the door warily. It feels almost surreal to see Minamimoto walk in. Taboo-ified Reaper, grinning like a ghoul, slick backed wild hair and dust on his clothes, entering an apartment. It doesn’t fit his image. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to use a door.

Minamimoto clicks his tongue when he sees the room, but all he says is, “Not bad, for a baseless binomial,” and then head for the far wall.

“You’re welcome,” Neku replies, sarcastic, and closes his eyes again, this time against the headache pounding behind his temple.

He hears Minamimoto settle by the wall, yawning loudly. There’s a beat of silence. Neku opens his eyes. “…Did you see anything past the wall?”

A scoff. “No.”

Yeah, he’d figured not. Worth a shot though. Neku rolls to his back and tucks his hands under his neck, staring up at the ceiling. “We’re not getting out,” he mutters, resigned. “We’ll have to… figure out what we can do here, I guess.”

Another bored noise. No response.

“Any suggestions?” Neku says, pointedly.

“You are zetta talkative today,” Minamimoto suggests back.

“I like having an idea of where to go.” And he’s partners with this guy whether he wants it or not. He doesn’t like it. He’s not sure he’ll ever like it. But Neku can at least make the effort.

“Tch, garbage,” Minamimoto says, sounding vaguely amused. “There’s no guidelines to this problem, Player. Different parameters. Different rules. Adjust or get deleted.”

“What are you—”

“Some numbers seem set on certain equations,” Minamimoto says, like it’s an insult. “Just because you miss the old Game doesn’t mean we can’t configure this one. You’ve got to conform to the equation, constant! Can’t force a formula that doesn’t make sense.”

Neku stills, feeling struck. “That’s— that’s not—” He sits up fast, fingers curling. His teeth grit. That’s not true. It’s not. Neku doesn’t belong in the Game, and he’s not having trouble adjusting, and he doesn’t miss it, he’s just—

But his mind is stuck on it—that moment fighting the Noise, the power singing through him, and Neku bites hard on the inside of his cheek and glares daggers at the walls.

“I am adjusting,” he says tightly. “If you would just—” No, no, that won’t work. They’ve already been through this. Neku takes another breath, and switches tracks. “Hey.”

A loud sigh. “What?”

“That thing you mentioned earlier, with— that guy.” Neku stares at the wall. “What’s Inversion?”

“Do the math.”

Asshole. “Look, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“It’s easy addition,” Minamimoto says, sort of scornfully. “Look around, yoctogram! The proof is all around you. The frequencies have been made null; it’s all broken equations now. That’s Inversion. When the math holding everything together breaks down.”

Neku frowns, trying to piece it together. “So the UG and RG…”

“It’s all fallen to zero. Ugh! Useless radian. 2 + 2 = 4. So zetta simple.”

Neku resists the urge to roll his eyes. He got an answer, at least. That’s something, isn’t it? It’s definitely more than he got earlier, even if it still doesn’t make complete sense to him.

My standards are dropping to the negatives, Neku thinks to himself, and then is a little horrified at his own almost-math joke. Cool, erasing that from his memory forever.

Still, if he’s understanding Minamimoto right, then… what, all the planes, UG and RG both, have just— crashed down on top of each other? That’s…

Neku leans back against the wall, hushed. His fingers curl into his arm. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he says quietly, half to himself. “How did this happen? This place…”

“Shinjuku.”

“What?” He turns around. “How the hell do you know that?”

Minamimoto scoffs at him. “More easy math. Didn’t you see the Gov building?”

“Wha—everything here is destroyed,” Neku snaps back, but his mind is whirling. Shinjuku. Damn it all, that fits too. Somewhere outside of Shibuya, where Coco was trying to lead them to… “Wait a minute. Shinjuku was fine this morning!”

Minamimoto yawns, looking bored again. “That was this morning.”

So, what—it just became a wasteland today? Neku leans back, stunned. Holy shit. Even Shades’ attempt at mind-controlling Shibuya had taken at least three weeks to set in. This is… he can hardly grasp it.

“How did this happen?” he says, honestly horrified now, and this time the silence stretches long. Neku looks over. He half expects Minamimoto to be asleep, but in the very last echoes of light Neku can see his eyes, staring out the window. Minamimoto is frowning. That sharp smile is nowhere in sight. And there is a furrow between his brows that seems, for a moment, almost troubled.

Neku waits. At last, Minamimoto looks away from the window, and stares down at the floor. He doesn’t meet Neku’s eyes.

“I don’t know.”

He sure doesn’t sound happy to admit it, either. Neku looks away, and leans back against the futon, quiet once more.

“…Hey, binomial. Speaking of half-finished equations.”

Neku stares at the ceiling, and then turns his head, eyeing Minamimoto warily. “…What?”

“You keep losing track of the numbers,” Minamimoto says, and his eyes glint. “Zetta often, too.”

Neku considers him, parsing through that—realizes what he means, and stills, shoulders stiffening. The visions. The voice echoing through his head. He’d known Minamimoto had noticed, but…

“Didn’t think you gave a digit,” Neku says finally, dryly, and Minamimoto actually laughs, a sharp and bright sound that echoes a little in the empty air. It seems bizarrely genuine.

“I zetta don’t,” he says, grinning outright now. “But I despise working with incorrect formulas.” His smile widens. “Spell it out.”

Neku rolls his eyes, a second away from turning around and ignoring him outright, but just as he is opening his mouth to tell Minamimoto to shove it, common sense and memory rears its head. The echo of another partnership, weeks ago, the memories Neku didn’t have and how he kept quiet, kept it silent, all the way to the end of Day Two. How different things might have gone, if he’d just trusted Shiki sooner.

Neku closes his mouth. He makes a face. He thinks of Shiki, and sighs, and sits up properly on the futon, resting his elbow on his knee. “It’s…” He doesn’t even know where to begin. It feels ridiculous, to think this all started only a day ago. “There’s this voice… this girl, I think. I can hear her sometimes.”

Minamimoto looks blank. “Well,” he says. “That’s zetta fucking useless.”

Neku scowls at him. “I don’t mean… ugh, I don’t even know what you think I mean. But it’s not that. It’s like… she’s right there with me. I’ve never met her. I don’t know her—” He thinks of that flicker of a person, Shiki’s stitched pig in her hands, and swallows. “At least, I don’t think I do? But I can hear her, sometimes. As if she’s far away, and right there with me, all at the same time.”

Minamimoto seems bored, already distracted; Neku ignores him, lost in thought now. The more he speaks of it, the stranger it seems. “I think she’s from here. Maybe. She talks about… being lonely. And emptiness.” He feels a little ill. Static crackles in his ears like a scream. “She seems… really afraid.”

Whispers echo in his head. Neku looks down at his hands, and admits, “She hates the silence most of all.”

Minamimoto stills a little, at that. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and in the end he looks away, his eyes dark. They sit there together in the quiet. Neku keeps his eyes on his hands. Minamimoto stares out the window again, gaze distant, as if looking at nothing at all.

At last, he says, almost muttering it: “A null set of numbers. Absolute zero.”

Neku is too tired to think it through. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Minamimoto grimaces. He tears his eyes away from the window, and tilts back his head, looking up at the ceiling, avoiding Neku’s gaze. “…It zetta sucks.”

Neku pauses. Somehow it has never occurred to him that Minamimoto might miss the music of the city too; that this unnatural silence would unnerve him, or ache in him as it does with Neku. He turns his eyes away. He feels, for once, more tired than annoyed.

“Yeah,” Neku agrees, quietly. The silence. The twisted streets. The echo, her voice still resounding in his head— please, please, help me. It’s too much. It’s too quiet.

Absolute zero.

“It really does,” Neku says, and closes his eyes.

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“I can’t believe you wanted to keep exploring in the dark!”

It’s long past evening, the sun set and the red faded from the horizon, and this isn’t the first time Eri has said this. Crouched down in a corner of their little shelter, the flashlight glow casting twisting shadows over everything, Beat sighs heavily and kicks hard at his skateboard, rolling it across the floor.

It’s not a big shelter; his board hits the wall and bounces back, and he catches it under his foot, rolling it beneath his heel. Then he kicks it towards the wall again, because damn, what else is he supposed to do?

“I still think we shoulda gone,” he mutters, glum. “We’re wastin’ daylight!”

“It’s pitch dark,” Eri hisses back, sounding exasperated.

“We’ve got a light.”

“One dumb flashlight against the city of dark and doom,” Eri mutters, and sinks against the wall. “No. No. I am not going out—there—when those things are—”

She fumbles, inhaling sharply, fingers clenched to fists by her sides. Beat winces at the memory—man, the lungs on her. His ears are still ringing. Though he can’t really blame her. First time Beat saw the Noise, he just about jumped out of his skin.

“Psh,” Beat says now, and waves it off. “The Noise won’t hurt us. We have those pins, remember?”

Eri thins her lips, looking about ready to argue—then slumps. “I still don’t get how that works,” she mutters, and Beat shrugs. He’s not going to be the one to explain it. “Well, still. It’s not a good idea.”

Beat grimaces, but lays off, kicking at the skateboard again. It grates at him, but hey, it’s Eri’s choice. She’s the one really panicking here, especially with Shiki… well.

And while it gnaws at him, while sitting still and waiting a whole eight hours for sunrise itches under his skin, deep down Beat has to admit she’s right. Neku would say the same, probably. What are you doing? Come on, use your head. Beat can almost hear him. It sort of aches.

So he doesn’t say anything. It’s not all bad, either; they’ve got this neatass little shelter in some empty hollow of a café stand, which, score! But it grates, even so. Man, they’ve barely even started! It took longer than Beat would have liked to get to Shinjuku by foot—unavoidable, given no trains were going through there anymore, some freaky UG power thing—and by the time they’d arrived, they’d only had about an hour before the sun started going down and Eri panicked.

At least they didn’t leave. Eri was thinking it; man, Beat could just see those wheels in her head turning. But she hadn’t said it, and he’s grateful for it. His parents will worry— are worrying, probably—but if Beat doesn’t answer his phone its for good reason, and he’ll apologize later. He just… he doesn’t want to leave. It took them this long just to get here, and… well, spending the night in a ruin isn’t the best thing ever. But it would be worse, Beat thinks, to leave.

They’ve made it. They’re here. Now Beat just has to wait until the sun comes up, and then…

Soon, Phones. Shiki. We’re on our way.

Still. He feels jittery. His limbs are all wound tight with a phantom pain; Beat grimaces, and digs his palm into his thigh, rubbing above his knee. Aw, hell. He should have guessed this would happen. It’s been happening on and off ever since the car accident-that-never-was, and it’s been building to a bad day for a while now, too. Of course its kicking his ass the moment he stops moving.

He leans against the wall, sighing, still rubbing at his leg. It’s seized up something terrible, stabbing pain like his bones are breaking, but with luck it’ll have eased off by morning.

Well, Beat thinks. Maybe it will. This shelter isn’t all that comfortable, and they’re going to wake up with a lot of aches tomorrow. Shit, he might even feel worse. But then, that’s okay. Hell, compared to his situation in the final week, this is downright cozy. What’s he got to worry about this week, besides the phantom aches? Threat of being eaten by Noise? Psh, done that. Beat’s chilling.

No more time limit on his life; Hanekoma promised to help look after Rhyme; and Beat isn’t even facing this dark alone. Eri’s here! Which, granted, he doesn’t know her all that well (or, uh, at all), and the girl doesn’t seem too fond of their group anyhow… but that’s fine too. It’s nice just having company.

Eri doesn’t look like she’s really appreciating it though. This whole time she’s been as jittery as Beat feels, pacing and sitting down and standing soon after. She taps her foot like she’s itching under her skin. Her hands fiddle with her skirt and her hat. More recently she’s started messing with the brass knuckles sitting heavy on her hand; she slides it off, slides it on, makes a fist and then repeats. Beat’s getting tired just watching her.

He considers her, and kicks his board again; this time when it rolls back he keeps it still under his heel. Eri doesn’t even notice. Her eyes are glazed, off in her own world. She’s gnawing her lip to shreds.

“Shiki’ll be okay, yo,” Beat says, out of nowhere, taking a shot in the dark. Eri jolts and then stills. “She’s badass, you know? Whatever plan she’s got, it’s probably a good one.”

“Badass,” Eri mutters, and then sighs, shoulders falling. She sits against the wall, drawing up her legs. The flashlight casts odd shadows; a quiet circle of yellow light on the ceiling and a soft glow all around them, barely reaching into the corner of the room. When Eri bows her head, it makes it hard to see her eyes. “How do you know?”

“Huh? Well, uh…”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. The Game, the Reapers, the… everything. All of it. You and—that coffee guy, I got the gist of that, I think, but…” Her hands tighten on her knees. “How did you meet Shiki? Really meet her, I mean. Not that stupid lie she probably told me.”

Beat scratches his head. “Er, that’s… uh, Shiki’ll probably wanna—”

“Shiki’s not answering her phone,” Eri says, a little coolly. Beat winces. Her fingers are white-knuckled around her knees. “I—look, I just—I just—”

There’s something about the look on her face that makes Beat look away. He makes a face at the wall and then sighs, pushing his beanie up away from his eyes. “Sure, yo,” he says quietly. “I can tell you. But it’s not— It’s…” He sighs. “It’s real complicated, yo.”

Eri doesn’t move. Beat shrugs, and goes back to kneading at his tense leg. “I met Shiki same time I met Phones,” he says. He’s unsure of how to say it—even more unsure of how to break the news gently—so he goes all in. “First week of the Game, about… man, I dunno. Two months ago, maybe? It’s been awhile, yo, my memory isn’t that good.”

Eri swallows. “I knew it,” she mutters. “She was—she was in the Game?”

“…Yeah.”

“She didn’t tell me,” Eri murmurs, quieter now. Beat shifts, uncomfortable, and winces when his leg jars; he gets the feeling Eri’s not really talking to him at all. “That w-whole month, I remember, she was avoiding me, she never answered… why didn’t she tell me? If she called—I could have—”

“Our phones didn’t work,” Beat explains, eager to help, but then he pauses. There’s something in Eri’s words that strike him as off, but he can’t pinpoint it, and something about Eri’s expression makes him wary of pushing. It’s probably fine, anyway. “And Shiki…”

He cuts himself off. “…Never mind.” That’s not his story to tell, and… Beat is pretty sure that’s one thing Shiki never wants Eri to know. Entry fees have always sucked ass, but Shiki’s especially…

“I always thought it was weird.” Eri’s voice is quiet, a little bitter; Beat blinks at her, feeling strangely out of his depth. “You guys just came out of the blue, and all her stories of how you guys met in class, it didn’t… and Neku, especially, it was like—” She stops again. Her head lowers.

“Oh, yeah.” Beat tilts his head back. “Phones and Shiki were partners.”

Eri looks up. “Um…” Pause. “I don’t really know what that means.”

“Oh, uh… like…” Beat gestures. “Like me and Phones, or even me and Rhyme, y’know? You’ve gotta trust your partner! With the fighting, and with the talking, worries and everything. Sharing the burden and stuff. It’s like a, a…” There’s a word for it, he knows—p-something—but the details are escaping him. “A promise! Yeah, like that.”

Eri presses her lips. “A promise.”

“Exactly!”

“…I don’t really get it, but okay.” She looks away, towards the darkened window, and a strange smile pulls at her lips. “Haha. This is, like, so weird. You know? Everything about this really is…” Her lips press. She ducks her head down behind her knees.

Beat looks away too. The flashlight flicker, the quiet roll of the skateboard wheels over the ground; the silence, deafening, right outside the walls. He closes his eyes and thinks about Rhyme, where they are or how they’re doing; tries even harder not to think about Phones. Sees the blood behind his eyelids. Hears the bang like an echo, ringing in his ears like the shriek of tires against the road, the dull thud before the end.

And all he says is, “We’ll find ‘em.”

Eri lifts her head. “Yeah,” she says. Her voice is hoarse. “We will.”

.

Sitting at the booth of what was probably a restaurant, once, before the Inversion, Shiki looks outside the windows and exhales, her breath fogging the glass. “Wow,” she says. “It’s gotten really dark.”

The restaurant is a small, ruined place; empty booths and empty shelves and windows blank and sheer. It’s creepy in the same way the whole city is, except maybe worse, because there’s enough definition left to recognize it as a restaurant—and so much missing it’s impossible not to notice how it’s been changed. At least the booth seats are soft.

It’s like living an apocalypse novel, Shiki thinks, and scrunches her face at the table. On the one minor bright side, at least she doesn’t need to eat? Though she’s not sure how that works, either. She’s still alive, just in the Game, so…

It’s too late at night to think about that, so instead Shiki closes her eyes and rests her head back against the seat. It really is dark. The only light is this strange, ghostly kind of glowing sphere Joshua summoned and then threw up above them maybe two hours ago; it’s as dim as a nightlight, and flickers like it has bad connection. It helps, a little, but… Shiki’s never liked nighttime, and here, with no moon or stars or anything, it’s almost worse.

Joshua is seated across from her, his hand resting on his cheek and one finger drawing patterns in the dust on the windows. Where Shiki watches the light, he turns and smiles at the shadows. “Surprising, isn’t it?” he says to her, almost light. “No end to the days at all. A full twenty-four hours… this Game really is something new.”

Shiki presses her lips, ill at ease with it. She fiddles with the end of her skirt, the soft fabric woven tight and warm, the cloth soothing beneath her restless fingertips. “I don’t get it,” she admits, and smooths her skirt flat, a nervous habit. “Why the long days? This doesn’t feel like the Game at all.”

“Hm. Who knows?” Joshua tilts his head. In the reflection of the glass, his eyes seem blurry and dim. “To disorient us? To tire us? Sleeping in a ruined city really will do murder on your back.” He snickers, then, as if he’s said something funny. Shiki frowns a little. “Awful, don’t you think? For former Players especially. All that time, waiting for the next day to begin… waiting for the blackout…”

“Oh.” Shiki’s fingers curl. “So this, too…”

“No missions,” Joshua murmurs. “No Reapers. No walls. Just… waiting. Until the end.”

There is something terribly cruel about it that Shiki doesn’t know how to put into words. She shivers, and says nothing.

“Yes,” Joshua replies, as if she’s spoken. “My thoughts exactly.” He sighs and leans back against his seat. “Either way, it’s working. Even I don’t really know what to expect from all this.” His eyes narrow, a little. He drags his finger through the dust on the window, a bold and stark line across the glass. “It’s getting a bit annoying.”

Shiki bites the inside of her cheek and looks away, picking up Mr. Mew just to have something in her hands. She smooths her fingers down his stitching and wishes for better thread. She has her needle, spare strands—of course she does, she always does—but for Mr. Mew, she needs better. It’s why she’s fighting with her clothes in the first place.

Still. Her fingers itch to fix something.

Joshua giggles. Shiki looks up, startled. He’s smiling at her again, small and smirking. “Bored?”

“N-no…” Bored, in a place like this? Discouraged, more like. She can’t understand how he can sit there, laughing like nothing is wrong; it’s like the whole awful situation has barely touched him at all. “Aren’t you worried?”

He tilts his head, looking bemused. “Who, me?”

“I mean…” She stops herself, and sighs. Even if he was worried, would he tell her? She doesn’t know him, and he doesn’t know her, either, even if he acts like he does. And given that she’d snapped at him only a few hours ago… “Never mind.” She frowns down at Mr. Mew. “You aren’t the easiest person to talk to, are you?”

“You’re just full of insults, aren’t you,” Joshua replies. “Apologies if I’ve been too preoccupied to chatter with you, Shiki. You need only give the word.”

Ugh, he did that on purpose. She fumbles. “No, that’s not what I…”

He’s smiling again. Shiki bites her lip and takes a deep breath. She is not going to hit him. She refuses to let him win, damn it all. “I’m sorry. That was rude. And I’m sorry for… well, I mean, I’m not sorry for what I said this afternoon, because I meant it—”

His smile has dropped, and Shiki rushes on before he can comment. “But I don’t want to fight! And I—I really don’t think you’re a bad person. I want to work together with you.” She offers a weak smile. Oh, she’s so bad at this. “So I guess, um, truce? Allies?”

He doesn’t move. Shiki looks down at Mr. Mew. “I just… can’t you be just a little nicer? I shouldn’t have insulted you, but… you say things sometimes. We’re partners, though. And if we’re here for all seven days…”

A pause. He’s quiet, just watching her, and Shiki falters again— and then firms. Her back straightens. She holds out her hand to him. “Please,” she says, quietly. “For Neku?”

There is a long stretch of silence. Joshua’s expression is a strange one; he leans back against the booth and crosses his arms, looking vaguely bothered. He turns away, frowns at the window, and then sighs heavily, as if put upon. “Oh, all right,” he mutters, and then turns to her. “Allies, was it?” He blows a strand of hair away from his eyes, and brushes it back behind his ear irritably. Then he reaches out and takes her hand. His palm is cold and dry.

Shiki pauses, startled. She hadn’t really thought he would… but he had, and for that she offers him a smile. “Oh! Um. Good.”

She takes her hand back, and then claps. Well, that was awkward. Time for a change in subject. “So! Okay. I’ve been thinking. We need to find Shinjuku’s… ‘place,’ right? What about the Tokyo Met building?”

“Wow. You’re taking this mystery seriously, aren’t you?” Joshua leans back, resting his chin in his hand. That strange melancholy is gone as if it had never been; now he just seems amused, edging into thoughtful. “Mm, maybe. They don’t tend to be in very obvious areas, though, you realize. Otherwise, Ten-Four would be Shibuya’s.”

“Oh…” Shiki leans back, fiddling with her glasses. “Golden Gai? We are heading in that direction…”

He shrugs. She sighs. This is harder than she thought it would be. How on earth had Neku figured it out last time?

…Oh, right. Joshua.

Shiki slumps in her seat.

“Either way,” Joshua says, after a pause. “We’ll head down the main road tomorrow. I’m interested in that moment of impact, you could say… the Reaper’s Skull in the sky.” He spins a strand of hair around his finger. “Who knows what we’ll find there?”

“Hopefully not a fight,” Shiki murmurs.

“Hmm. That’s a poor attitude. I’m relying on you after all, Miss Shiki.”

She laughs, a little. Miss. She’s never met someone who can be both rude and polite all at once. It’s a bit funny. “I mean… you don’t need to, do you? Aren’t you, like, all powerful or something?”

He giggles. “Well, that’s true. I am pretty powerful. But I don’t like working up a sweat.” Joshua shrugs, hands turning up and open to the air. “Besides, even I have flaws. So do keep up.”

Shiki is well aware of his flaws. The little smile on his face says he knows that, too. But in the spirit of getting along, she humors him. “Really? Like what?”

She means it as a joke, but Joshua hums. “Mm. Well, for one, I can’t jump.”

Shiki blanks for a moment. “Seriously?”

“Mm-hm.”

She considers this. “…Is it because you’re clumsy?”

Joshua blinks. Then he smiles. He turns his face away and hides it behind his hand, but she can see his shoulders shaking. “Wow.”

“What?”

“Just… no one’s ever tried to guess why before.”

Shiki’s getting the hang of this, though. “Or guessed right?” she tries.

He makes a face. But he doesn’t say she’s wrong, and for some reason that makes her laugh—for real, this time. “So that’s it,” she says, hiding her smile behind her hand. “You’re clumsy?”

“I don’t really think you’re one to talk.”

“I’m not! I just…” Her smile fades a little. She studies the table. “It’s funny. I feel like I know you a little better now.”

“Because you know I’m prone to tripping?” Joshua sounds bemused. “All right then.”

Because beyond just being Composer and all-powerful and Neku’s old partner, Joshua is becoming someone real to her. He is a boy who laughs a lot but rarely genuinely, who doesn’t give straight answers—who is snobby, and self-absorbed, and smug. Who has clever insights. Who likes mysteries. Who can’t jump.

She’s still angry at him. She still doesn’t forgive him. She never will. But Shiki leans back against the booth and thinks of Neku, week one, and finds that maybe she can do this after all. Maybe… maybe it can even be fun.

“Well, if there is a fight, I’ll do my best.” She clenches her fist. “I’ll rip them all to shreds!”

Joshua is grinning, wide and amused. Shiki frowns at him. “What?”

“So bloodthirsty. Where do you get it from?” He tugs at his hair again. He looks on the verge of laughter. “Okay. Have fun, Shiki.”

She pauses. “…You’d be helping too!”

“Well, maybe.”

“No, not maybe…!” Joshua is definitely laughing at her. Shiki crosses her arms. This is like Neku in those first few days all over again, but worse somehow. Joshua is doing this on purpose. “Ugh. Boys.”

“Not quite. But I get your point.” Joshua waves a hand through the air. “I was just joking, dear. Don’t take it so hard.”

But Shiki pauses, her thoughts derailed from the banter. Not quite? “Wait. What do you mean not… Oh!” Her eyes widen. “Are you like me?”

The moment she says it, she flushes, and wishes she could take it back. Oh, shoot, is that a good way to ask? Does he even know Shiki is trans? Wait, Composer. Wait, but maybe—

Joshua blinks at her, and then his grin gentles, something closer to a smile, almost half-way to genuine. “Mm, of sorts.”

And that answers that. “Oh,” she says.

“Yes. Well, not entirely the same experience, however. I don’t have any strong feelings about it one way or another.”

Shiki doesn’t entirely understand what he means—she has always felt strongly on who she is, from youth to now. But she nods anyway. “Ah, okay! But, um…”

She frowns a little, unsure of how to ask this. Joshua’s smile widens. “It doesn’t really matter,” he says, sounding amused. “I use the masculine pronoun because I like how it sounds, is all. It’s just words to me. I don’t connect to one gender or the other—or even neither—in any real regard.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry. You haven’t stepped on any toes.”

“I’m glad.” She draws up her knees. She still isn’t sure if she likes Joshua all that much, but that doesn’t mean she wants to hurt him, even if unintentionally. “I guess we have that in common, huh?”

“The younger Bito sibling, too. Should we make a club?” He leans back, and hides a yawn in his hand. “Anyway. Wherever Shinjuku’s Room of Reckoning might be, it’s a problem for the morning.” He holds out his hand, and that dim nightlight sphere sinks down in the air, resting just above his palm. “Anything else you want to bother me with? Because it’s getting dark, and honestly, I would like to get some sleep.”

“Oh. Oh! Right, sorry.” Shiki turns away, leaning her back against the booth, stretching out her legs. “Um… good night.”

“Wonderful.” Their light flickers and dims; Joshua cups it in his hands and then closes his fist quietly, and darkens it to a glow so soft it barely seems there at all, just enough to keep them out of the gloom.

The silence settles around them, not quite calm, not quite right. Shiki stares at the window, thinking on all that she’s learned, and everything she’s still waiting to discover. The quiet stretches. The darkness remains, eternal. She watches the glass and despite it all, can’t bring herself to close her eyes.

Is Neku out there, too? Is he sleeping in a ruin? Maybe he’s nearby, even. Maybe he’s closer than she knows.

She swallows hard. She hopes he’s doing okay. And oh god, Beat—she hopes he got home, that Rhyme is safe and sound with him. She hopes Eri found him. She hopes Eri isn’t… isn’t too upset with her.

Shiki owes her an explanation, probably. Definitely. She’s trying not to think about it. Where should Shiki even begin? She doesn’t want Eri to know she died. Or—or her entry fee, oh god, no. And everything that happened, Rhyme getting erased and the other Players, and…

It’s just easier, isn’t it? If Eri doesn’t know; if Shiki doesn’t tell her. They can be happy and laugh like nothing has changed, like nothing was ever wrong… and Shiki won’t have to think of that time from before, when she couldn’t meet Eri’s eyes, when she could hardly look at her work without hating how it never seemed to measure up. They’re happier now, aren’t they? Is it selfish to want to keep it that way?

…Probably. If Eri found Beat, then, definitely. Eri knows something is up. Eri knows something is wrong. Shiki is—Shiki is just going to have to deal with that.

Oh, she hates the dark. She always thinks too much, too loud. It’s so quiet that everything else feels like its echoing, and it makes all those little worries rise up louder and louder in the back of her head. Awful.

She takes a breath. She draws up her knees, and wraps her arms around her legs. “…Joshua?”

A pause. She hears him sigh. “Yes, Shiki?”

She keeps her eyes on the window. He sounds so calm, she thinks. So unbothered. It needles at her. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“This again? Really?”

For some reason that hits her sideways; heat flares up in her gut. Her hands clench, fingers digging into Mr. Mew. “Yes, really,” she says, sharper. “This place, this city, the silence. N-Neku. You keep… doesn’t it bother you at all?”

“Does it matter?” he replies. “Either way—”

“It matters to me.”

Silence.

“Yes, Shiki,” Joshua says, finally, flatly. She can just barely see him, sitting up straight now, the shadow of a frown on his face. “It bothers me. Happy?”

“You don’t have to snap at me.”

“And you don’t have to go starting a conversation every three seconds, and yet. Honestly, Shiki.” He crosses his arms. “You’re awfully chatty. Most people aren’t nearly so talkative with people they dislike, you know.”

“…I wouldn’t usually be.”

“Oh?” He still isn’t smiling. “Am I just special? How flattering.”

“No, it’s not that. I…” She looks away. Her own flare of irritation has died; now she just feels drained, and a little ashamed. He’d said he was tired, and she is bothering him anyway—snapping at him for nothing, almost the same way he snapped at her earlier today. “Sorry.”

“Hm.”

“Really, I am. It’s just… it’s really quiet here.”

“So you decided to yell at me.” He sounds annoyed. “Don’t people usually ignore others when they’re upset? Can we do that?”

For some reason that almost makes her smile. Shiki keeps her eyes on the window. “Funny,” she says quietly. “Sorry. You know, I… I was going to. From the beginning, actually. I thought I would…” She had taken the pact with the thought that she would ignore him, she would avoid him, she would do what was needed and nothing more. But…

She hasn’t really been doing that, has she? Instead she’s been arguing with him, and talking with him, making plans and ideas and getting ridiculously excited over mysteries. She doesn’t even know why. It just sort of happened that way.

And in the end Shiki rests her chin against her knees and says, “It’s just sad, isn’t it?” A beat. “I just get the feeling… that maybe we could have been friends.”

Another pause. Longer, this time. When Joshua finally replies, he no longer sounds irritated; his voice is low and muted. “I don’t see why that matters.”

Maybe it doesn’t. But Shiki looks out the window, quiet and worn and exhausted all at once, and despite it all, realizes she doesn’t feel as alone anymore. That in some strange way, in all the things they share and the ways they clash, Joshua being here with her makes braving this empty city a little easier.

She keeps her eyes on the window. “Joshua?”

He makes an annoyed noise. “What now?”

“…Do you think Neku is okay?”

He hesitates.

Shiki waits, but when he doesn’t answer, she looks back to him. He doesn’t meet her eyes. His head has turned away, back to the window. He is strangely silent.

He’s not smiling anymore. In this moment, Joshua seems tired too. There’s something quiet in him. Something pinched around the eyes.

“Well,” he says, softer than she expected. He taps his finger against the glass. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

It’s not really an answer. But there is understanding in it; the same uncertainty, the fearful wondering. So Shiki nods. She turns away, and says nothing more, and together they watch the midnight streets, waiting for the hour to turn.

.

.

.

And as midnight falls, on the very edge of that hollow city, a girl walks against the wind.

She is alone. She is all on her own. The last one left in all the world. Her eyes are empty and her hands close tight around a memory. She barely seems to move, each step slow and laboring, taking all of her strength. She wanders on into the night. She shivers in the cold. Her lips move soundlessly, as if aching to speak. Waiting to be heard. Waiting to be found.

She keeps walking. Step by careful step. And slowly, surely, the night moves on, and the second day dawns.

[bluelady-atla]

Dont Hurt Her/Him  Blue Lady

Continuation of the Blue Spirit & the Painted Lady

   Zuko watches from his hiding spot on the roof. The lady painted in red and followed by her own cloud of fog is doing something to aid the homeless man, though what he can’t quite tell through the fog. The sound of boots scuffing draws his attention as he spies as a military patrol man. Which is odd, they don’t usually patrol this far from their base. Zuko cringes when the old man starts coughing again. Looks like the woman’s cover is blown.

   “Hey you there! Come out where I can see you.”

   As he expected, the clouded woman bullets and the patrol man gives chase, though he wasn’t expecting the patrol man to slip at the mouth of the ally. Must just be good luck. Though not great luck since he’s soon joined by 3 other soldiers. Zuko gives chase as well, though much more discreetly, hopping from roof to roof. He watches helplessly as the woman runs straight down a dead end, unable to call out to her without risking revealing himself. It looks like she’ll captured and imprisoned when they find the stolen goods on her. A shame really, he had been hoping for a more interesting night, but it looks like tonight he’ll just be a voyeur. He could take the soldiers if he wanted to, but fighting his nation’s own military just to help a woman avoid justice would be crossing a line.

   “You match the description of someone seen sneaking away from the military base after ransacking the store room. Stealing from the military is an executable offense.”

   Zuko knows that tone, this patrol man isn’t interested in justice, he just wants to enact cruelty as revenge for his earlier embarrassment. It’s one thing to stand by and allow justice to take its course, but as Zuko watches the man light his fist full of flames he knows no justice will be served here, only scars on a defenseless woman. That is not something he can just stand by and watch.

~

   The masked man turns back to the 4 soldiers, Sword in each hand reflecting the light of the moon. For a long moment everybody is too surprised to move. Fist still wreathed in flame the soldier growls “get in my way and you’ll get the same treatment as her, she’s guilty of stealing from the military, nobody will bat an eye if we execute you both, Blue Spirit. You’re wanted dead or alive.” The other soldiers all shift into a ready stance, two of them draw a two handed sword while the third brandishes a spear, it seems they are all taking their cue from the firebender.

   The masked man simply tightens his grips and shifts posture ever so slightly, giving no other indication he heard the threat. The Blue Spirit, Katara knows that name, and now that she thinks about it, the mask too. This is the vigilante who saved Aang from Zhao. She may not know him, but if he’s an enemy of the fire nation then she considers him an ally. Careful to not draw attention to herself she draws out what’s left of her bending water. Alone she wouldn’t be able to take them with what amounts to a puddle, but With the Blue Spirit by her side she has hope, and hope is all Katara ever needs.

   Without warning the firebender breaks the tense stillness, firing a ball of flames right at the Blue Spirit. He simply flicks the fire away with a quick movement of one of his swords. The three other soldiers use the momentary distraction to advance, the two swords men flanking the spear man, driving the Blue Spirit back, keeping him on the defensive- desperately parrying their thrusts from one side, then another- without a moment to strike back. Keeping her movements smooth and subtle, Katara makes her own opening, bending her small reserves of water to form a slick spot on the cobblestones; the swordsman to the Blue Spirit’s right steps on it, causing them to falter and their swing to miss. The Blue Spirit presses the opening, using it to maneuver behind them and strike the temple of their skull with the hilt of one of his swords knocking him out cold.

   Having maneuvered so that the spear man is between him and the other swords man he advances. The spear man thrusts only to have his spear head pinned by the Blue Spirits crossed swords. Striking his heal on the shaft he breaks the tip off and advances, keeping the spear deflected with off to one side with his left sword and strikes the spear man with his hilt as well. The moment the spear man drops out of the way the final sword man charges with a falling cut. Which is subsequently deflected leaving him open, which the Blue Spirit presses with a close line leading into a throw.

   Now it’s just down to the last firebending soldier from before who until now stayed back to watch, observing how the masked vigilante fought. The firebender punches a quick succession of blasts, each one aimed closer to his mask than the last. The Blue Spirit uses his speed to dart in quick, trying to close the distance, deflecting the blasts with sweeping motions of his blades. Katara watches, unable to stop him as the soldier side steps and delivers a sharp punch wreathed in flame to the Blue Spirit’s right side, causing him to drop to one knee and let out a growl of pain. As the soldier steps forward to strike the final blow, Katara catches him off guard with a water whip around his ankle causing his foot to slip out from beneath him. Cracking his head on the ground when he falls.

   Katara rushes to the Blue Spirits side where he kneels, one hand cupping his side. “Shit that looked like it hurt, let me see.” she says as she pulls his hands away revealing blistering and charred flesh. “Ok I need to get you somewhere safe, do you think you can stand?”

   The Blue Spirit digs the point of one of his swords into the ground to pull himself up to standing. Katara slots herself under his other arm helping him up and taking on some of his weight. His breathing comes fast and shallow as he rises, Katara feels his heart pounding rapidly through his ribcage. Just before he can straighten he falls slack, his whole weight leaning on Katara. She swears under her breath as she begins to drag him away.

~

   Zuko awakens slowly, his awareness coming back to him in bits and pieces. What stands out to him the most is a feeling of cold, not the fridge cold of ice, but something more soothing lapping against his side. He opens his eyes to an ethereal blue light reflecting off of eyes just as blue drawn tight in concentration and fear. He knows those eyes, her face maybe swirled in red, and the lighting odd, but he would know those haunting blue eyes anywhere. How could he forget when they’ve haunted his dreams wearing an expression of utter betrayal. He knows he should try to capture her, the avatars waterbender, Katara, it’s what a good sun would do. What his father would want of him. But he can’t bear the thought of betraying her again. Cursing himself for what he knows his father would consider weakness. He sucks in a sharp breath when the cool lapping sensation shifts to a new area, bringing with it a deep pain.

   “Ahhh thank Yue, you’re awake! You haven't been out long, only a few minutes. I had to drag you into this abandoned building. We were too exposed out there. Couldn’t risk another patrol finding us or those soldiers waking up.”

   Zuko shifts to pull away from the pain and the ever confusing girl but is stopped by a firm hand placed on his shoulder.

   “Don’t move, I know it hurts but I’m not done healing you yet. Looks like he got you good, punch to the liver and severe burns on your right side. But don’t worry, I’ve patched you up pretty good.” the last of the pain fades and as does the light “There all done, won’t even leave a scar.”

   She stares at him for a long moment, a softness in her eyes that reminds Zuko of a cave lit by crystals.    “Thank you for what you did back there, I don’t think I would have been able to take them on my own. At least not when I don’t have anything to defend myself with. I just... thank you, I owe you my life”

   She slowly reaches a hand towards his face. And for a moment Zuko closes his eyes to the whisper of a memory. “It has special properties so I’ve been saving it for something important” He snaps his eyes open, shocked when he realizes she had thought he was important. Katara starts to lift his mask when his hand shoots up to grab her wrist. Stilling her movements.

   “Please, I need to take your mask off. I need to make sure you don’t have any other injuries”

   For a long moment they stay frozen neither moving while Katara waits for his permission. Zuko just stares at her from behind the mask, noting the beauty of how blue her eyes are in this dim light, like the sky just before the sun rises. remembering how betrayal and anger turned them into a storm. Feeling how cool and soothing to the touch her skin is beneath his hand, how he can feel her heart pounding threw her pulse point. He watches her breathing become shallow and her eyes become darker as her pupils dilate.

   “Please” she breathes out, no louder than a soft whine. But still loud enough to break the spell he was under, as quick as a shadow, Zuko slips out from where he lays beneath her. Pausing in the windowsill to turn his head back ever so slightly leaving her with a parting “Thank you” his voice rough with emotion.

[chubbyooo]

Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 94 - Ghosts of his Reign

Hey all I was determined to get this chap out today and I bet a lot of people will be excited for it also haha sorry you won't find out what happens to Ash for a bit XD

Kavaraa and Theron discuss their next step with the Emperors Wrath and Kavaraa discovers something hidden

But Kavaraa didn’t as much as she wanted to be the hero to stop Zoyin she had never been close to Zoyin’s skill in combat and not only that she was outclassed by Zoyin before and now she seemed to be even more powerful. She shuddered as she felt her stomach, the scar where Zoyin had stabbed her was still quite prominent, not even Voss healing could stop it leaving a lasting mark through her stomach.

They arrived at the room Shassa had given to them and Theron folded his arms “so what now?” it was a pretty valid question but Kavaraa didn’t know the answer 

She shrugged “I’m not really sure as much as I’d love to go down there and take Zoyin down it’s pretty clear I’m not up to the task on my own, we may have got lucky there but you know” she gestured to where she’d been stabbed, it all seemed so far away now but her part in it even the stabbing had been necessary so Kyradia could destroy Valkorion.

Theron walked over to her and put his arm around her “yeah I know I remember, believe me the last thing I want us to do is go in alone unprepared but we don’t have a lot of options at the moment” Kavaraa leaned her head against him

She anxiously played with the end of her montral “we need to wait like Shassa said an archivist may be able to offer some assistance even if it’s just details on the planet, in the meantime we should find out what we can from the archives” Theron seemed to agree reluctantly, Kavaraa was fully aware his style didn’t usually include waiting and was more reckless abandon but they had to do what was safe when it came to someone as powerful as Zoyin.

Theron turned to her “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that do you find this whole thing a little weird” Kavaraa frowned not quite understanding “just the three of them in this big ancient Jedi Archive and now a Sith arrives it just seems a little sketchy this place is so empty considering all of what your ancestor said” Kavaraa considered it she hadn't thought about it til now but Theron made a good point maybe it was a little sketchy

She frowned “I mean I guess but Shassa says that’s fairly common and she said it’ll probably only be a few days before an archivist returns” she rubbed her chin “maybe if no one turns up I’ll give your idea more weight but I think it’s just because it’s a secretive organisation” Theron nodded Kavaraa was at least glad it made some sense

He seemed to ponder it “I guess you’re right maybe I’m looking for a problem that isn’t there, I’ll do a little snooping around and if no archivist returns I’ll start to look more specifically” Kavaraa thought that sounded good she’d rather be slightly rude than get caught in some form of trap

Kavaraa smiled “that sounds ok maybe just a little while trying to find details on why Zoyin is on Vallereth” Theron seemed more than pleased to get permission to snoop

Theron nodded “what are you going to do, I assume you have an idea” Kavaraa nodded it wasn’t an amazing idea but it may help

She looked away “for now I’m going to set up an area to meditate so I can maybe get a greater understanding of the force energy surrounding the planet” Theron nodded he never understood what Kavaraa meant but he seemed to trust she knew what she was on about

Theron stood up “alright well I’m itching to investigate this place I’m going to find Kormel and ask him for his notes on this place” Kavaraa smiled Kormel was bound to have an extensive list to put even Theron to shame

Theron headed out leaving Kavaraa to set up her meditation area, she’d found comfort helped her meditate so set down a backpack with many cushions and soft carpets. The room they’d been given was quite nice Shassa had been clearly impressed at her Bysh heritage, it was nice to know she didn’t come from nothing but with Zoyin still out there it could all fall apart if she wasn’t careful. She could still sense her even now just on the corner of her force sense, a small familiar dot in the sea of force energy on Vallereth, the one thing she was sure of is that Zoyin was here to harness it.

Zoyin seemingly had started to succeed; Kavaraa had never seen someone teleport through the mist like Zoyin she clearly was even more powerful and that rightly scared Kavaraa, as of currently to her knowledge two people had managed to beat the Wrath one was Kyradia and too close to this. Kavaraa had no idea what happened between them but it was deeply personal on both ends, she hoped Zoyin was in the wrong on that one Kyradia had already done enough wrong. Either way getting her involved would be incredibly messy in so many ways so she was off the table, the other person who’d defeated her was Vaylin and well given the conversation Zoyin had with Kavaraa in the throne room Zoyin may have even thrown that fight. It was a useless train of thought anyway because Vaylin was completely off the table Kyradia had fought her on Odessen and from what she heard Vaylin had given her no other option than to kill her.

She sighed, shaking her head, it didn’t matter anyway Zoyin was more powerful than she had been at that time and that was very dangerous she’d need backup she hoped these Archivists were also combat proficient. Kavaraa also did just really want to meet them clearly; some of her distant relatives were Archivists first of all and either way they were guardians of knowledge she bet they had endless wisdom, something she could really do with right now.

The Meditation area was nearly finished now with pillows and cushions surrounding a carpet just the incense sticks left to go, she got increasingly frustrated as they were stuck at the bottom of the bag, she shook them out but as she did her eyes widened a cube shaped holocron fell out as well. Kavaraa gasped she’d picked this up back when she arrived and had meant to give it back to Shassa, she tutted at herself in all the commotion she’d forgotten to give it back.

Kavaraa picked it up and frowned, it still seemed vaguely familiar, not like something you know well, just the slightest hint of something she’d seen before. She decided to give it the once over before giving it back, just to check if it was all intact, that was fair enough right? Especially if it was familiar to her even a little. She put it in front of her, sat on the carpet and began to focus on it closing her eyes, it all seemed normal to her but oh so potent this was more than just something to store data. Kavaraa felt the energy wash over as she made sure it wasn’t too potent but the familiar feeling only grew as she inspected it.

When Kavaraa opened her eyes she gasped she wasn’t in the same place this holocron had its own environment, she looked around though she couldn’t see much there was dark blue storm clouds all around her. The ground was rocky and ancient as she began to stumble around she saw sunken rubbled, maybe once a statue but now just fallen stone, whose vision was this it certainly wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen?

Kavaraa began to walk forward seemingly incapable of forcing herself out of this place, she was so stupid she should’ve just given it back she was too curious for her own good. As she walked forward she spotted glimpses of ships she recognised, Eternal fleet ships, Sith ships and even Republic was she in a battle? This couldn’t be her vision so it was someone else's, either that person was here or this was the aftermath of something bad and the Archivists just chose to leave it alone. The wind around Kavaraa started to pick up as she tried to pinch herself out of this bad dream, it of course didn’t work and she walked forward unsure what to do. The familiar presence was stronger now, still not so familiar to her but clearly she was close to the source of whatever had called out to her. She felt her foot give way as she tripped over the edge of something just catching herself before the hit the ground, but as she looked down she saw the sith emblem cracked in half.

She quickly stumbled up, she had to get out of here something was very wrong, she rushed forward the winds picking up even more around her as she could vaguely make out a silhouette in the fog. 

She didn’t know who it was but she sensed it would give her answers to what was going on, she headed towards it “hello?” she yelled “I’m a little lost do you need some help, my name is Master Kavaraa Bysh” there was little to no response as she walked closer towards the silhouette. It was knelt down and still she didn’t know if it was the source of the crazy wind but it seemed pretty likely, as she got closer her familiar feeling returned but it was accompanied by a sense of fear, one she hadn’t felt in a while.

Suddenly the fog dissipated and the wind stopped causing Kavaraa to stumble forward to the floor, she looked up now she was in a forest, wait no this was indoors some form of garden? It was very chilly and the air was very dry, she spun around to get up but gasped when she was met with the burning end of a yellow lightsaber pointed at her.

Kavaraa’s eyes widened as she looked up and above her she saw the figure, brown hair, pale skin, yellow eyes and black robes the furious form of the former empress Vaylin beared down on her looking ready to use that saber. Kavaraa’s lip trembled as she looked up at her, how was this possible? What holocron was this? She had one million questions but for now they’d have to wait as the former Empress sneered at her “what are you doing here Jedi”...

[bugaboowritings]

Are You A Superhero? - Not So Miraculous AU

Doing What A Superhero Would- Walking a Kid Back Home in a Chilly Winter Night

“Are you a superhero?”

It was a simple question and honestly one that would be laughed at, but she wouldn’t even dare to do that. Not when that question brought back a feeling she thought died a while back.

What do you do when you have no powers? You kick ass in a Ladybug mask, of course! All as you keep it a secret . . . well, try to at least. It was a secret before some kid saw you . . . .

—-

  Her ears tingled as she went from hearing the loud sound of smashed glass to the serene silence that snow brought into the air as it falls and packs down on driveways and window shutters. Her senses had to readjust while the sharp air dove into her warm lungs and her shoes felt hot and heavy as the frost crunched under her weight. It felt a bit anticlimactic, she just escaped having a knife to her throat and now she was surrounded by the calm, dancing snowflakes.

   A chill came up her spine.

“Are you a superhero?”

  Her hand hovered over her belt before she stopped herself a millisecond before pulling out something with a trigger. Like if a pin coated with poison poked her spine, Marinette stood paralyzed.

  It was a child.

  A kid on the concrete sidewalk with a backpack over their small shoulders.

 She didn’t think anyone would cross this part of town. Wait, no- Marinette knew that no one would cross this street for the minutes she planned on staying. She has been scouting the area for weeks and no one passes here during the morning, night, or noon. Not a single car or a single piece of trash. Not a drunk or a lost bystander. No one wants to walk on this side of the city. Especially at breaking dawn.

  No one expect the awful people in the abandoned building behind her. Still- they never left the building unless some black van pulled up on Tuesday at 8:15.

Luckily, it was 7:30.

Meaning no witnesses.

No worries.

No danger.

No innocent people in danger.

 However, even with all the precautions, Marinette was spotted leaving the crime scene. Her eyes swept the street back and forth, ready to jump away into the darkness if anyone else came along. Her heels were ready to push her back- Yet, she stood there as the kid with the big bug eyes stared right back at her.

Paralyzed and surprised.

 Marinette could only imagine what the kid was thinking, watching a stranger lurk in the streets of Paris. Especially as the day dipped down and hues of purple and oranges brushed across the winter sky.

  For a split second, they seem like they were two worlds crashing into each other. The kid’s naive nature drew a sharp contrast to Marinette’s fists and mask. Her face was grown and her features were sharp while the kid still had baby fat on their cheeks. The kid wore color layers as she sported sable color-palette with touches of red. Yet, even with their differences, they both felt their face get scrapped and the warmth thinning from their body as the wind blew a little harder.

They both need to get out of the cold.

  Marinette’s hair and ears froze stiff as the snow settled gently on her black hair. Forming a little white halo, serving as a contradiction to what she really was. The heat she had before died in the palms of her hands. The adrenaline from punching and wrestling feather-out in her breaths that fog up the air.

  Leaving her system in nice, long dragon breaths.

 “A superhero?” Marinette whispered as her teeth pulled down her lips. Tasting her lip balm and feeling it stick to her tongue and teeth. She hasn’t heard that anyone call her that in like forever.

“You know, like the ones from the comic books?” The kid repeated. Shuffling their feet together in what seems like an early form of anxiety, but the kid’s eyes didn’t leave Marinette’s. Deep and pearly eyes that wouldn’t leave until they got an answer.

 The child had to be around 6 or 7 years old. Honestly, Marinette couldn’t really tell with all the colorful layers they wore. Even with their stacks of scarves protecting their lips and nose from the chilling wind, a little slip of skin showed that the bridge of their nose glowed bright red.

 A superhero? From a comic book?

 Mari tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, swallowing the words that clouded her mind.

Her- A superhero?

 God, that sentence brought back something she thought crawled in a corner and died. Her blue eyes glanced back at the kid with the oversized backpack. Whatever their age, they were definitely too young to remember her. Too young to wake up to the reports of a cat and bug jumping over roofs and swinging off and over towers. Too small to scream and jump up and down when they spot a girl in red and black spots. Too much of a baby to understand that she and her partner were the reason the world still stood. Too little to be wearing her out-dated merch. Too green to even remember who she was.

 And definitely too young to call her a superhero.  

 Little sniffles brought Marinette back to reality, snapping her out of her thoughts as she proceeded her answer. Her senses came back to her, waking up from the numbness of the winter cold and cutting off the memories that swelled in her chest. Overwhelmed by the small moments on rooftops she treasured, only to remember that they were gone. Reminding herself where she was now and who she was now.

 Anything, but a superhero.

Marinette bit her lip a little harder, scolding herself for not saying anything. She was most likely scaring the kid just by standing there and saying nothing at all.

Honestly, who wouldn’t be?

  You see a woman walking into an abandoned building, only to come out with blood from the other guy on her knuckles.

Who wouldn’t be scared?

Her eyes clicked down to the child on the sidewalk.

Yeah, but this kid didn’t seem a bit terrified.

  The kid’s face remained emotionless or look like it. Their hat covered their eyebrows so Marinette couldn’t really tell what they were feeling even if she wanted to know. Marinette’s eyes trace the lines of their face, not helping herself when she saw the pattern on the hat was definitely crocheted and then the scarves around their neck were knitted. Then the gloves on their thin fingers were hand-me-downs due to the style and color. Those same gloves were used as tissues as the kid occasionally brought their hand to face to wipe their nose after sniffing a few times. Their dark blue jacket puffed up around their shoulders and stretched over their thumbs, another sign that the kid had layers on layers under.

  It brought this sort of warm feeling in her. Reminding her how her father would rummage around the closets just to find her “one more thing” before she went outside to play in the snow. Then how her mother would pull that stiff beanie over her ears and kiss her forehead. Sending her off when they open the front door and let the cold breeze in.

That warm feeling brought cold water down her back.

It’s late.

 Too late for someone this small to be out here alone at night. Especially here. Judging from the clothing, someone at home would definitely be worried. And if they waited any longer than the child would definitely end up with a nasty cold, even with all those layers of jackets.

 “What makes you think I’m even one?” Directing her mind back to their question at hand. Not helping the stressed chuckle that slipped her lips as she crouched down to their height. Hoping that her small laugh would put the kid at ease. Even if she looked over her shoulder and tensed up as another gush of wind pushed up her hair.

She needs to get this kid out of here. Quickly.

  Inside of the building behind her was the unconscious group of human-organ traffickers, all tied up and ready for the police to come to handle the rest. Knowing that around 8:15 PM, a black van will pull up expecting anything but handcuffs. Marinette knew that she was safe, but this child?! She knew she did her job and a good one so the criminals inside were definitely out cold, but the last thing she could ever do is leave someone out here with them nearby.

Or was that all a dumb reason to have a chance to direct this kid home? Or to hear them call her a superhero, just one more time. A title that seems to bring a sense of nostalgia and-

 The gears in Marinette’s brain spun a little faster as she thought over the real problem in front of her.

 Why is this kid even here? Where are their parents? And-

“You fought that guy that was hurting the owner of the corner store.”

“I-,”

 The store robbery.  The unexpected rescue that almost blew her cover. Chat chewed her out for that and was his trump card whenever they got into fights for that whole week, but she knew that if she didn’t jump in - he would have instead.  

“-And now too.”

“Now?”

 “Yeah, right now.” The child repeated, shaking their head with a grin. Their little gloved hand reaching up to adjust the wool on their mouth.

 “You’re dressed like a superhero. With that mask, boots, and red superhero armor. You even got a cape!” The child exclaimed. Pointing eagerly at Marinette’s outfit. Her boots were a little out of place to brush it off as her daily shoes. Her superhero ‘armor’ was nothing but the protective padding around her torso and shoulders. The cape was just the silhouette of her trench coat. It’s oversized so it did give a cloak feeling to it.

 Marinette pulled the belt of her coat a little tighter.

 “I- Look it’s late and you shouldn’t be here,” Marinette huffed. Nodding her head towards the nearest bus stop.

 “Did you get off at the wrong stop or are you lost?”

 “I’m walking home today. My Dads are at work and told me to wait for them-but ... I couldn’t really stay at school so I decided to take the bus.” They stumbled over their words, getting really quiet before they opened their mouth again- but Marinette already got the picture.

“Come on then,” she sighed, tucking her own scarf over her face before reaching out her hand. Before she could ask, a pair of small fingers curled around her palm. Feeling those hand-me-down gloves not doing any good as the fabric felt thin and light. Unconsciously rubbing them between her thumbs to warm them up.

“Let’s go before your family gets scared, okay?”

“Okay.” The child answered before grabbing her arm a little tighter.

——-

  “Your teacher sounds nice.”

  “Ms.G is mean at times though.” The child added, correcting Marinette’s statement as they kicked the stone under their shoes. Hopping over the black gum on the sidewalk before adding the fact Ms. G yells when the other kids don’t listen to her during recess.

  Marinette hummed again. Letting the kid speak to fill the chilly air and silent between them with the story of their day. Asking short questions to get them to speak more and more until they reached the kid’s home street. This one-sided conversation help pass time a little faster and put the kid at ease. Once getting there, Marinette couldn’t help but notice it seemed a bit familiar. Maybe it was because of the decorations and ribbon hanging from the windows and doors.

  Another chill ran up her neck, the cold nipped her skin a little more before she tugged on her coat a little tighter, feeling the padding on her belly rather than the squish that her jeans would cover. Fumbling with her buttons before she sighs another cloud into the air. Keeping her hand entangled with the kid’s before she drops down to their height.

  “There, by the light post, is that your house?”

 The kid looked up and with a crooked smile- nodded. The pom-pom on their hat bounced before quickly thanking her. Telling her that she just had to meet “Dads” so they could show them that they got home safe thanks to her.

 But Marinette brushed off that invitation. Explaining how she has to get home too before someone starts worrying for her.

 It pained Mari to have to let go of the kid’s hand even though she just met them some minutes ago. It seems to hurt a little more when they asked for her name and she couldn’t answer. So she did the best thing she could do, she played the superhero role.

 “It’s a secret.”

“I can keep a secret.” The kid responded coy.

 “Yeah well, it’s a superhero secret and if I tell you then my identity would be in danger.”

 The kid’s face lit up much like the light decorations around the neighborhood.

 “So you ARE a superhero then!”

 “Ha, sure.” Marinette smiled. Standing up to her full height before motioning them to start walking to their door.

  But the kid didn’t move away but just step a little closer.

 “So what is your superhero name, then?”

 “I-“ Stumped on what to say next before it hit her. It all seems like an old memory, a classic case of deja vu. Except for this time, it wasn’t a blond wearing leather asking.

  “I’m Ladybug.” She beamed, cocking her head to the side- letting her bangs slide over, giving the kid a better look at her mask.

  It took four tries to get right, but it became the perfect mold of her face with patience and practice. Slipping easily on and staying on. It was even red and spotted too, much like the old gear she had back in high school.

  “Ladybug…” the child repeated. Chewing the name in their mouth before accepting it.

 “Thank you so much, Ladybug! I’ll promise that-“

 Then she was gone. The woman that just walked them home and to safely had disappeared into thin air. All without a trail of snow prints to follow.

 Before the kid could call her out, the front door opened. Quickly feeling the warm lights cover their back as two sets of arms pulled them near.

 “God, you had us so worried!”

 “Where were you?!” A red-head shouted, alternating from pulling his child close and yelling on how scared they were.

 “Dads! You will never believe who I met?” Exclaimed the child, ignoring their parents’ shouts as they went on explaining the lady that walked them home and save them when that robbery happened last week and who-

  The child threw their hands up and around, it was quite cute to watch. Marinette couldn’t stop the small chuckle that leaked from her coral lips as she watched the ‘show’ from the rooftop. Noticing how the kid’s parents seem confused, angry, and then relieved and then back to confused when the kid said her name.

 “-then I got home thanks to the help of Ladybug! She saved me and she-“

 “Ladybug?”

 “Yeah, Ladybug! She was wearing this mask and had this coat and then she had this superhero armor over her clothes!”

  The parents pulled their kid in the house and even with closed doors, Marinette could still hear the kid boast about her.

 The kid with the bug eyes couldn’t stop gushing over the red bug.

Wait, until the cat hears about this.