#when you put your ear to the seashell of my person the lapping waves are of song

[7amonathursdayinoctober]

Something about the song "Rain in my heart" by Frank Sinatra swirls my soul into watercolor and lets it spiral and twist as it's washed out of paintbrush into fresh water

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name: Side Story 3

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Third side story is visiting the Leech parents. Do you guys ever forget how to talk in front of beautiful women or is it just me? Anyway, please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi @viperwhispered

Visiting the trio at the “land bootcamp,” as you so affectionately called it, became part of your routine after summer school. Your classes ended earlier than theirs, so you had plenty of time to yourself before Floyd was eating asphalt (which he managed to do every single time so far). You didn’t mind. Being alone charged your battery before you’d have to interact with three people at once.

You usually occupied yourself with homework. But recently, you discovered your ability to use magic. Time spent waiting on the twins and Azul became your magic practice sessions. Mages were hard to come by and your family couldn’t give you proper lessons, so much of what you learned was theoretical. Textbooks from public libraries piled up in your room. You had never seen someone levitate a feather or change the colour of a rose, but you were damned if you weren’t going to try.

Your sneakers hung high in the branches of a tree by their tied laces. Throwing them up there was easy. Getting them down would’ve been easy, too, if you decided to scale the tree. But your goal was to practice magic. You pointed a stick at the scuffed soles and concentrated. The textbook said a wand wasn’t strictly necessary without a magestone, but it was helpful for visualizing and directing your focus. Theoretically.

Lift up. Come on. Levitate. Do something. The shoes swayed. You couldn’t tell if your magic was doing anything or if it was just the passing breeze. Frustration was unavoidable, but you were a patient person. It would come with practice. Theoretically.

Just as you put your “wand” down, your sneakers lifted and untangled themselves from the spindly branches around it. Excitement surged in your chest. Did you do that? You weren’t even trying—

Oh, of course you didn’t. You turned to see a woman a little ways down the sidewalk with a slightly raised hand.

Long, blue-green locks of hair swirled and twisted around each other like waves on the sea, cascading to her lap against the backdrop of her seafoam white dress. Eyes like the rising sun eclipsed into a smile. Long lashes framed them like art. You had never known a person this bewitching could be real.

Her willowy fingers flicked down. Your shoes followed suit, settling neatly in the grass by your feet. When her hand returned to her lap, her wheelchair brought her closer. The back of it bloomed with corals surrounding seashells. She was the most beautiful aspects of the ocean brought to life.

“I thought you might need some help.” Even her voice was beautiful, clear like a mountain spring.

“That, um, yeah. Thank you.” You stuttered. Immediately, you looked down at the shoes by your feet, embarrassment turning the tips of your ears red. You just had to go and stutter in front of such an unrealistically beautiful person. Although her kindness was mistaken, you didn’t have the heart to correct her.

“How did your shoes get up there, my dear?”

Now you had to tell her. “I threw them up there.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“I was trying to get them back down,” you said hurriedly. Obviously, you scolded yourself, she could see that. “Um, with magic. I’m trying to practice.”

Her eyes glimmered in interest. “So you’re a mage. How lovely to meet you—there aren’t many of us. What’s your name?”

Us. You weren’t sure if you deserved to be grouped in the same category with this ethereal woman.

You introduced yourself, internally grateful that you didn’t stammer this time. She told you her first name and extended a graceful hand for you to shake. Her skin felt silken in your hand.

“I don’t suppose you have a magic tutor?”

You shook your head. Such a thing was a luxury. Most people learned magic at specialized schools, like Night Raven College. Co-ed and all-girls schools for magic existed as well, but they were all prestigious. You weren’t sure if you’d ever receive an invitation.

“I see. In that case, here is some advice.” The sneakers floated back onto the branches of the tree, swaying once they settled. “Try imagining two points, one on each shoe. For instance, on the tip of the toes. Now, only focus on those two points, and imagine lifting them with your magic.”

At once, a colossal, insurmountable problem was reduced to a tangible one. Instead of a complex shape, you only had to focus on two points. You renewed your efforts. To your own surprise, the tips of the shoes lifted. Just a little bit. Nowhere near enough to clear the branch. Despite that, your earlier frustration cleared like a bad dream.

She continued giving you pointers until the sneakers lifted off the branch. In your excitement at your success, you lost concentration. They bounced onto the grass with dull thuds. Mortification left you as quickly as it came when you heard her quiet laughter and saw her encouraging look.

“I’ll work on it,” you promised, putting your shoes back on. “Thank you very much.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have some time, anyway.” She clicked her tongue. “I’m here to pick up my sons and their friend from their summer classes. My husband should arrive soon as well.”

You traced her line of sight to the bootcamp. If her sons were there, she was probably also merfolk. You wondered if that was the reason behind her otherworldly beauty.

“I’m also waiting for my friends. Three of them are at that school.” If she was surprised you had merfolk friends, she didn’t show it. “They know magic, too, but they’re definitely better at it than I am.”

“Why don’t you ask your friends, then? I’m sure they’d be happy to assist you.”

“I wanted to try doing it on my own.” That’s not entirely the truth. You would’ve taken any tips you could get, but you were certain those three would consider it a favour and charge you accordingly. Jade, even more than Azul, liked to put you in his debt for the smallest things.

She chuckled. “It is a good thing for you to overcome obstacles on your own, but don’t be afraid to ask for help when you need it.”

At that moment, as though she sensed something in the air, she turned and looked down the street. A tall man strode up to her, every step purposeful and confident. Although he was dressed casually, you had seen anyone casually wear such expensive-looking clothes and slicked-back hair. He was handsome, too, but the woman outshone him by leagues. In your opinion, anyway.

He leaned down to place a cup of coffee in the cupholder of her wheelchair and kiss her hair. Such a nonchalant display of affection had you wondering if you should look away. A radiant couple like that wasn’t something you saw outside of television.

“I’m sorry I’m late, my love.” He said the pet name as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “There was quite a line.”

“That’s alright. I had a wonderful time chatting with this young person.” She gestured to you with her graceful hand. You barely managed to squeak out a greeting, not having expected her to bring attention to you at all.

“Pleasure to meet you.” He shook your hand with a firm grasp. “Thank you for keeping my wife company.”

“I had a wonderful time with her indeed,” she said. At the time, you had no idea that her conversations were often riddled with double-meanings and nefarious intentions. There was no way you would’ve known she found a simple conversation with a middle schooler about the basics of magic to be a refreshing topic.

The bell rang from within the bootcamp. In moments, the first people to leave were your familiar group of friends. From this distance, you couldn’t see their expressions, but Floyd used his entire body to express his mood. His arms flung into the air, his cane once again flying off to the side as he ran towards you. He managed to make it halfway there before his face met the asphalt. The woman next to you merely laughed, her wheelchair taking her to meet him halfway. It vaguely occurred to you that it might have been powered by magic, but that wasn’t the main thing on your mind. Rather, it was the fact that they seemed to know each other. Floyd’s next words illuminated what exactly their relationship was.

“Mama! What are you and Pops doing here?”

Mama? You had to take a moment to process this. Did you accidentally meet the twins’ parents?

“We’re here to pick you three up, of course. Did you forget it’s the weekend?” She waved a hand and his body floated before lifting into a standing position, his cane drifting back to his hands. “We couldn’t very well ask you to walk to the beach.”

“Thank you very much for coming all this way,” Azul said, but he was quickly interrupted by Floyd’s much louder voice.

“Right. Didja meet Red Handfish?” Floyd draped himself over his mother’s shoulders, hugging her tightly. “Didn’t think I’d see all of ya standin’ together.”

Mrs. Leech didn’t even hesitate at the nickname. She must’ve been used to using context clues to figure out who he was referring to.

“Yes, we met while waiting for your classes to end.” She glanced at her husband for just a second. Some sort of knowing look was exchanged between them. Then, she smiled at you, somehow more radiant than before. “So you’re ‘Red Handfish.’ My sons talk about you often.”

“They do?” You hoped she didn’t know you extorted Jade on your first meeting. That would surely leave a bad impression.

“Mother,” Jade suddenly interjected, his smile tight on the edges. “I hope you didn’t wait too long for us.”

“Oh, not at all. Your friend here was wonderful company.” She easily brushed off Jade’s attempt at diverting the conversation, still focused on you. “Your stories didn’t do your friend justice. I had such a pleasant time that the minutes flew right by. Why don’t we invite them to the Coral Sea? I would be thrilled to accommodate a few nights’ stay.”

“They wouldn’t be able to survive under the sea.”

“Not an issue at all.” Mr. Leech sported a winsome smile on his face, mirroring his wife. “We have potions that would make it a simple matter to bring you under the waves.”

You weren’t going to lie. Part of you was desperately curious what life was like under the sea. Merfolk communities were very isolated from human ones, and you were always thirsty for more knowledge. But above all, your sense of self-preservation prevailed. Don’t take potions from people you don’t really know would apply anywhere, even the parents of your friends.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you for your offer.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, my dear. You’re welcome anytime.” Not a trace of offence in her eyes. “I’m very happy you’re friends with my sons. Jade, especially, needed someone like you.”

Jade tried to redirect the conversation again, an uncharacteristic fluster in his mannerisms. You didn’t understand her words fully. You didn’t know that Jade, for all his pleasant masks, thought all humans were beneath him. That he was usually one of the toughest beings around in his age group. That the first time he was stumped was by a human his age. She was glad you were challenging his worldview, broadening his perspective bit by bit. As a mother, she was thanking you for opening her son up to change. To this day, she and Mr. Leech are grateful to you for introducing their sons to the idea of human capabilities being on equal footing with those of merfolk, even before they entered Night Raven College.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, this might be a crazy request but since you asked for something platonic. Could you maybe write something where reader is a lonely siblingless kid and has three imaginary friends that are Jade, floyd and azul? For an example the parents see there child come home with all these toys despite only giving them 10 dollars and they ask if she stole them and there child just responds "no azul told me what to say to the sales clerk so I got these for 10 dollars but he keeps telling me to sell them!"

Ooh, this is a really fun idea ✨ so I took it and ran with it~

This prompt almost perfectly describes what I was like as a kid AHAHAHAH so it hits close to home... I hope others are able to relate, too.

***Mild spoilers for Dorm Floyd’s personal stories~***

Imagine this...

From a young age, the sea had always resonated with you.

There was something so calming about it--its depth, its expansiveness, the way light caught and sparkled on its surface. The waters were comforting in a way that human company never was. With no siblings and few friends to call your own, the sea was your solace--the thing that set your heart at ease.

The moon, like a pearl, an eye, in the sky, watched over you as you wandered along the shore, waves gently lapping at your ankles. Sand squishing between your toes, the chill of water delighting you. You clung to your mother and father’s hands that night, letting them guide you through the darkness, illuminated only by a silvery glow.

“Do you know why they call this beach Mermaid’s Cove?” your mother asked, pursing a finger to her lips. “They say that you can hear strange singing at midnight. That’s when the merfolk come out to make music.”

“Really?” Your eyes sparkled with wonder. “Do you think we’ll see some mermaids today? I wanna meet one.”

“We know you do, kiddo,” your father sighed. He gave you a playful ruffle on the head, messing up your sweat and sea-slicked hair. “But your mother and I worry that you’re a little lonely. You need to get your head out of clouds... uh, water... and make some friends outside of your imagination, too.”

“It’s not just my imagination. Merpeople are real, and I’m gonna be one when I grow up!” You prodded a seashell buried in the sand with a foot. “I’ll make a deal with the sea witch and get a magic potion, and when I drink it, I’ll grow scales and gills and a tail.”

“Then we’ll have to move you to an aquarium,” your mother joked, giving your small hand a squeeze. “And you won’t be able to hug all your sea creature plushies--they’ll get soaked if we try to bring them to you.”

“I’ll play with them by the water, then! I’ll keep’m dry!”

“Will we have to feed you sushi every day, too?” your father asked, wagging a finger teasingly. “Raw seafood? And get you seashells for your hair?”

“Yeah!! I’ll eat sushi and raw seafood and seaweed. I’ll wear all the fishy fashions, with seashells and coral! I’ll...” Your voice trailed off.

In the distance, a faint sound skipped across the waves to greet your ears. It was soft at first, a few notes that gradually evolved into an expertly woven melody. Slow and a little sorrowful, a song of ruin and rebirth.

Your heart skipped a beat, excited and aching at the same time. You tore away from your parents to dash out toward the waters, kicking up sand in your wake.

The sea was an azure blue, fading into jade at some points, and frothing with foam, a mixture of whites and pale greys. You squinted, and there it was. A crash, a splash--and a flash of a slender fin.

A fish, or...?

“Sweetie, wait...! Where are you going...?”

“I hear the mermaids!” you called back to them, pointing out into the sea. “They’re out there, and they’re putting on a special concert for us! Look, look! I just saw one of them diving back under!”

Your mother and father stared dubiously out into the waves, then at each other.

“... I think it’s well past your bed time now, dear. We should head back to the cabin and tuck you in for the night,” your mother murmured, slipping her hand back into yours.

“But mom...! I’m awake, I really, really am! I saw them, I know I did!”

“Your mother is right. Come along, now. The mermaids aren’t going anywhere. You can... see them again another day.” Your father patted you firmly on the back.

“But what if they do go somewhere?”

“[Full Name]. You heard your mother. Let’s go. We’ll return in the morning.”

“Awww, fine.”

You allowed your parents to herd you back, stomping dejectedly in the sand all the while, leaving your tiny footprints behind. You grumbled under your breath, something about how stinky stupid this whole thing was, and how you had longed to listen to the music for longer. The watchful eye of the night sky followed you and your tantrum.

“It’s not fair,” you muttered. “Not fair at all.”

“You should work on your negotiation skills, little one,” advised a dulcet voice.

A young man had emerged at the water’s edge, striding alongside you and your parents at a brisk pace. He was dressed in glasses, some kind of a fancy suit, and a hat, a scarf and jacket hanging off of his shoulders and trailing behind him. His locks were the color of moonlight, and his eyes, the sea itself.

Neither of your parents reacted to the young man--yet you could hear him, could see him, quite clearly.

“Knee-go-shee-ah-tions?” you whispered, your eyes swelled with confusion. “What’s that?”

“What he means,” cut in another smooth voice, “is that you have much to learn in the way of speaking up for yourself. Ah, but there will be plenty of time for that.”

Another stranger had appeared, bending at the hip and bowing to you as you passed. He wore a similar suit to the first person, though his coat was entirely buttoned up, and his bowtie perfectly affixed against his collarbone. A single earring, comprised of three diamond-shaped scales, dangled from his left ear, twinkling teal in the moonlight. He raised his sharp eyes to yours, revealing one olive, one gold--and a stripe of black against turquoise hair, cropped short.

“Ahahah~ I can’t wait to play with you some more,” added a third in a singsong. “They’re so small, but feisty, too! Just like a little shrimp. Hey, that’s what I’ll call you from now on, okay? Little Shrimp.”

You tilted your head--and there was a spitting image of the second stranger. His coat hung open, and his bowtie was undone, shirt not fully buttoned. He walked along with hands shoved in his pockets, lips turned up in a toothy grin and downturned eyes creased with glee. A stripe of black hair ran along his right side, along with his earring and the golden orb of his eye.

“Who are you guys?”

“Us?” The three of them shared a knowing smile--unseen and unheard by your mother and father. “Why, we’re your new friends.”

The house always felt empty when your parents were away at work. They often fretted, filling your room with more stuffed animals than you could count to keep you company. When those could no longer hold your attention, your father had returned one day with a plastic bag filled with water and a big, fat goldfish. Its tank was mounted in the living room, where you could make faces at it for hours on end until the front door swung open, and your parents paraded in.

Day 3 of goldfish watching, and you were already bored out of your mind.

You puffed up your cheeks and stuck out your tongue, blowing a raspberry at the fish. It gaped at you blankly, mouth opening and closing to let bubbles escape.

“You’re not very interesting,” you told it, tapping the glass accusingly. You wore a frown as you laid your cheek upon your arm, eyes slowly following your pet as it floated around aimlessly.

“Mm? Is Goldfishy boring you, Little Shrimp?”

You craned your head, finding Floyd to have plopped himself down beside you. He mimicked your motions, smushing his own cheek against his arm--but he wore a mischievous grin rather than a frown.

“That’s not his name! I called him Riddle, so you’ve gotta call him Riddle, too.”

“What kinda name is Riddle? Goldfishy makes way more sense.”

“That’s a silly name! Riddle is already a goldfish, so naming him Goldfishy is repeating. It makes no sense.”

“Riddle makes about just as much sense if you ask me.”

“You make no sense, Floyd!”

“Ehehehe. Where’s the fun in making sense?” He threw his head back and laughed. It sounded raspy, and on the verge of crazed, but there was still a musical quality to it that you liked.

“You stink at coming up with names,” you declared stubbornly. “You call a goldfish Goldfishy but you call me a Little Shrimp when I’m not even a shrimp!”

“It’s cuz you’re so teeny tiny,” Floyd cackled, flicking you on the forehead, “like a shrimp. I’d like to see you try to come up with something better.”

“I can.”

“Then...” He displayed two rows of dagger-like teeth. “What would you call me if I wasn’t already ‘Floyd’?”

Your answer was instantaneous: “Shark.”

“Eeeeh? You picked such a scary one. Am I scary to you, Little Shrimp?” Floyd leaned in a bit, his large form casting an ominous shadow over you. His smile remained lazy and laid back. “If you’re not careful with what you say, I might just gobble you up for lunch~”

At once, you leapt onto your feet, emboldened by his words. “Nuh-uh! Bet you can’t catch me in the first place!”

“Bet’cha I can,” Floyd retorted, hauling himself up to his full, imposing height--over 190 cm, easily towering over your puny form. “Sharks are fast swimmers! I’ll get you in no time at all.”

You looked at Floyd, then at his legs. Long and lithe, almost like a mermaid’s tail, split down the middle. You didn’t doubt his claim for one second.

... Which was exactly why you raised a leg and kicked him right in the shins as hard as you possibly could.

Floyd howled in surprise and doubled over, clutching at his knees--and with that head start, you made a run for it. His maniacal laughter carried after you as you raced down the hallway. "Ahahahah! That was a dirty trick you pulled, Little Shrimp!! I’m going to punish you when I get my hands on you...!!”

You skidded around a corner and scrambled into your bedroom, leaving the door hanging open so as to not draw suspicion to yourself. With a squeak, you dove under your bed and lodged yourself into its dark depths. You slapped your hands over your mouth to muffle your panting, and instructed yourself to stay still.

Sharks can smell fear, can’t they?

You inhaled shakily.

This was your safe haven, your undersea lair, as you called it. You had spent countless hours pretending to brew potions and tending to an anemone garden here, tucked away from the rest of the world. A familiar warmth swept over you, slowing your racing heart.

Stomp, stomp.

You could see Floyd in the distance--his polished shoes clicking against the flooring, and his funny striped socks. He made a great show out of checking every door, knocking at first, waiting a few moments, and then kicking the door down with a powerful foot.

To your horror, he quickly made his way to your bedroom. The merman paused at the threshold to knock.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!! Uncle Floyd just wants to have a little talk!” He cried out, voice tinged with a bit of madness. “If you give up now, I promise I’ll squeeze you gently!”

No reply came.

“Ohhhkaaaay, looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way!”

Floyd prowled in, sweeping to stick his head in your closet, your toy chest, even in your desk drawers. He made a full round, stopping just short of your hiding spot. If you reached out, you could touch his foot.

Your heart caught in your throat, and your hands clamped down harder than ever around your mouth. A frantic mantra repeated in your head. Don’t look under the bed, don’t look under the bed, don’t look under the bed...!!

“... ‘Kay, I guess you’re not here!”

And with that, Floyd spun around and his heel and bolted out.

Huh? You blinked, flabbergasted. Had you done it? Had you outsmarted the shark?

You held your breath, letting a few seconds pass, then cautiously poked your head out from under the bed. You shimmied, carefully wiggling your body out from down under. Bit by bit, you crawled your way out of the undersea cavern.

Then came the harsh tug at your ankles, yanking you back into the darkness.

You shrieked as you sailed backwards, limbs flailing in desperation. You kicked and punched at the air, but to little avail. Try as you might to fight against the monster from the deep, its grip held tight like a vice grip.

A familiar shadow loomed overhead as you came out on the other end of the bed. The shadow of a shark.

“Caught you,” Floyd announced giddily. “Ehehe. You’ve been pretty bad lately, Little Shrimp--so for your punishment, I’m gonna tickle you until your stomach hurts!! Prepare yourself~”

“Drink up, Flowey!” you chirped, tipping your watering can, heavy with water, to grant a refreshing drink to a bed of flowers.

(Once, you had called repetitive names stupid, but thanks to Floyd’s influence, you practically named everything after what it actually was. Was it a blessing or a curse? Perhaps both.)

While your parents were away, you looked after yourself at home--doing your homework, amusing yourself, even taking care of a few household chores. You had taken up “gardening” recently, if only because it was an excuse to be near some water. Hosing down the plants was great fun (until mother warned you you’d drown the poor things), so now you made it a habit of watering them a bit in the afternoons.

You set the watering can down and stepped back to admire your work. Flowey now glistened with fat droplets upon its petals, its soil soaking up its midday drink. “Grow up big and strong,” you whispered, patting its petals.

Of course, the flower did not answer--but you liked to think that it was nodding along to your wish.

“... [Name]-san? Ah, so this is where you were.”

Your ears perked up. Glancing over your shoulder, you found Jade perched on the backyard porch, hands dutifully clasped in front of him.

“What a good child you are, assisting your parents with looking after the garden,” he mused, striding over. Though shorter than Floyd by a few centimeters, Jade still towered over you. It was only when he crouched down that he was able to meet you at eye level. “How are the plants faring today?”

“They’re doing really good!”

“Well. They are doing really well,” he corrected.

“They’re doing really well!” you parroted back. “Maybe one day they’ll be even bigger than you and Floyd!”

“Fufufu. Will they, now? I look forward to that day, then.” Jade’s mismatched eyes glimmered with anticipation. “With all of these flowers and herbs you’re cultivated here... When the time comes to harvest, you will have a bounty on your hands.”

"Yeah! Mom and dad can make something really good with the herbs. And we’ll have fresh flowers to make the dinner table pretty!” You giggled, pleased with yourself. “We might get an apple tree, and plant some potatoes too, so we can have even more food from home.”

Jade nodded, his eyes carefully tracing the perimeter of your fenced-off garden. He tucked a hand, fingers curled, under his chin. “... Have you considered adding fungi as well?”

“Fun-guy?”

“Mushrooms.”

“Don’t mushrooms grow in icky places?” You grimaced, wrinkling your nose. “I don’t wanna eat something that grows in caves and between my toes.”

Jade chuckled. “They are more than just a means of nourishing oneself. Mushrooms can be used for poison medicine as well. Some can glow in the dark, some create their own ‘ink’, some change color... They are fascinating. What’s more, mushrooms can enrich the soil and make it easier for your other plants to grow.”

“They can?” you gasped, a hand flying to your mouth.

“Yes. You wished for your flowers to grow as tall as myself and Floyd one day, correct? Mushrooms can assist you in that endeavor.”

“Wow, are they magic or something?”

“Fufu. You could say that, yes.” Jade grinned from ear to ear. “But if you wish to see this ‘magic’ for yourself, then I would highly suggest investing in some mushrooms of your own. Do bring it up to your mother and father when you next discuss plans for the backyard.”

“Okay! I’ll do that!”

“Responsible and obedient. My, your parents must be so proud of you, [Name]-san,” he cooed, reaching out and running hand through your hair.

“... I dunno.” Your voice was small in the shaded garden. “They look at me funny sometimes. Dad says my head’s full of water, and mom worries that I don’t have friends from class.”

“... Is that so?” Jade’s smile turned sympathetic. “I suppose it is only natural for parents to be concerned for their child. However, in my humble opinion, there is nothing wrong with being considered an odd duck.”

“There isn’t?” A touch of hope honied your tone.

“Oddity is what gives the world its flavor, its spice. If we were all exactly alike, life would be quite dull to experience. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, but...” You bit your lower lip. “My classmates don’t like odd. I get picked last for sports and group projects. They don’t want to play with me during recess. I’m always alone.”

“It is their loss--but you need not fear. You are not without friends. You have myself, Azul, and Floyd now, yes? We are your friends, and we enjoy your oddity.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You fell silent, letting his words stir around in your head.

“... Thanks, Jade. I feel a little better now.”

“I am glad to hear it.” He rose to his full height and offered a gloved hand. “If you are finished tending to the plants, might I invite you inside for a snack? Your parents have left a platter of fresh fruit for you in the fridge. There are apples, bananas, oranges, and a berry medley.”

“Can’t I have cookies instead?”

Jade’s smile widened. “Most certainly not.”

“You’re no fun!! Floyd lets me eat cookies for snack time.”

“Floyd and I are not one and the same. You may say what you will, but I am merely doing my part to help maintain your health. Were you to be malnourished, I would not nearly have the same amount of amusement that I currently enjoy.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I wouldn’t concern yourself with it.” Jade placed a hand on the small of your back and gently ushered you indoors. “Come now--right this way. I will fetch you your fruit, in addition to some granola and a cup of low-fat yogurt. After all... What are friends for?”

You folded your arms, squinting down at the stacks of homemade play money spread out before you. Each “coin” was a haphazard circle with a number scrawled in the center, and each “bill” was colored in crayon and boasted crudely drawn mermaids or fish in the center. Seated across from you on the floor was Azul, his arms also crossed, patiently waiting for your answer.

“Let me repeat the question again to refresh your memory,” he suggested. “If I purchase the rights to the Mystery Drink from the Mystery Shop for 100 madol, tax included, then resell it at the Mostro Lounge for 1500 madol a glass, not yet including a 20% tip and a 8% tax, how much profit do I stand to make for each sale of the Mystery Drink?”

“You’re making it too hard, Azul!” you squeaked in protest. 

“I am challenging your intellect,” he insisted, pushing his glasses up. “Now then, your response?”

“I like you better when we’re playing board games. Even Monopoly’s better than this.”

“Your response, if you please.”

“My response is that you’re a meanie!!” you cried, shoving a handful of play bills and coins at him with a loud huff.

He glanced at the amount--quickly calculating the sum in his head--then grinned down at you. “That is correct. Well done. I knew you had it in you--all you needed was a little push in the right direction.”

“Hmph! You’re still a meanie.”

“This is the thanks I receive for helping you get ahead of your studies in math? How cruel of you, [Name]-san,” Azul sighed dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead. “And here I thought you would be more grateful for my services... especially after I assisted you in cutting a deal with that toy vendor. Sob, sob, sob...”

“Liar. I can tell you’re fake crying!”

“Oh dear, it seems like I’ve been caught and foiled again. What ever shall I do?”

You laughed, chucking the rest of the fake money at him. “Make it up to me by getting me a Mystery Drink! I want to drink some, too!”

“As you wish, dear customer.” Azul swiftly collected all the bills and coins, tucking them away into an inner pocket of his jacket. “Shall we make the trip to the kitchen together to pour you that drink?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You eagerly hopped to your feet and trailed after Azul.

Click clack. Each step he took was accompanied by his walking stick snapping against the floor. Sharp and resounding in the long, empty corridors of your house.

You stared up at him quizzically.

“Azul, are you old?”

“Old?” He made a face. “Older than you, yes, but no older than the twins. By month, the twins are actually considered to be older than me.”

“You act a lot older. Plus, you’ve got this cane, and glasses, and grey hair!” you pointed out.

“I beg your pardon? For your information, this is no cane. This is a magical staff. One wave—” Azul pantomimed sparkles shooting through the air with a wiggle of his fingers. “—and I can make all your dreams a reality.”

“Can you make yourself real? And Jade and Floyd, too.”

“... That, I’m afraid, is simply not possible.” Azul glanced away, his expression solemn.

“You lied to me again.”

“Only if you consider us to be dreams. You’re very much awake right now, aren’t you? So technically, it was no lie.”

“Sneaky sneak!!”

Azul laughed. “Pay attention to wording, and you can find loopholes and grey areas in nearly anything. That is what makes for a skilled negotiator and debater.”

“You said something like that at Mermaid’s Cove.” You bounced on your tip-toes. “Have I gotten better since then?”

A sly smile. “Perhaps.”

“Geez, just gimme a clear answer!!”

Your banter continued as you crossed the threshold into the kitchen. Seated at the dining table, your father, newspaper in hand, and your mother with a cup of coffee. Sunday evenings were moments of reprieve for them, yet their eyes were deep and dark, almost sunken in.

Their heads turned to you as you, still bickering with thin air, entered. They exchanged a worried glance.

“Who are you talking with today, sweetie?” your mother asked nervously, staring at where Azul was—and seeing nothing there.

“It’s Azul, mom!” you replied cheerily. “He’s making me a Mystery Drink.”

“A... Mystery Drink?”

You swept by her and to the cabinets to retrieve a cup for yourself. Then you flung open the fridge and pulled out an assortment of fruit juices (though in your mind’s eye, you imagined Azul perched behind a classy bar area doing this for you). Unscrewing each cap, you poured off some of each juice into your glass (picturing Azul in your place).

Apple, orange (with pulp for texture), grape, cranberry, lemon, lime, fruit punch... You thought of them all dancing around in your mouth in a conga line.

You replaced the caps and, using a spoon, stirred up your drink to incorporate everything. (He handed it over with a crafty grin. “It’s on the house—no need to thank me, [Name]-san. Drink up.”)

“Thanks, Azul!” you told the air. Glass of Mystery Drink in hand, you plopped down between your parents at the table. “Oh, and Azul says ‘hi’, mom and dad. He thinks you should visit the Mostro Lounge one day.”

“And the ‘Mostro Lounge’ is...?” Your father raised an eyebrow.

“It’s the restaurant he works at with Jade and Floyd. They have lots of yummy stuff like this!” you explained, taking a loud slurp of your concoction.

“Right...” Your mother pursed her lips. She opened her mouth, as if wanting to say something, but immediately closed it before any words could escape. “We’ll have to go there next summer vacation, then.”

“Where did you say you met these... fishy characters again?”

“At Mermaid’s Cove a few years ago, dad. Remember? We heard them singing.” You paused, listening to Azul’s business pitch. “The Mostro Lounge usually has jazz music. They’re thinking of starting in-house band performances every weekend. Azul on the piano, Jade on the bass, and Floyd on the drums.”

“I see...”

Another concerned look was exchanged between your parents.

“Well... as long as you’re having fun, dear,” your mother said at long last. Her smile was kind, but a little weary.

It went over your head--but Azul took note of it.

The moon came out to play in the evenings. You liked to lie on your side and gaze out your bedside window, watching the moon and the stars twinkle until sleep overcame you. It was your silent fourth friend, the one that followed and guarded you when the others weren’t around, swathes of silver ribbons embracing you in a gentle hug.

But tonight, you were fully alert. Sugar coursed through every fiber of your being, refusing to let your eyelids drift shut--and there was pressure upon your bladder.

... Maybe I shouldn’t have had that Mystery Drink.

Your bladder seemed to gurgle in agreement.

You groaned and sat up, swinging your feet over the edge of your bed and letting them touch the floor.

In the dimly lit space, you slowly padded toward the bathroom. Only a few steps in, you caught a golden ray spilling out from further down the corridor. Light within the darkness.

That’s weird. Did mom and dad forget to turn off the lights?

Your feet drifted past the bathroom and curiously headed toward the kitchen. Words slowly came into focus, set upon familiar tongues.

“... rried about [Name],” came your mother’s voice.

“I am, too,” said your father.

What? About... me? You pressed your back to the wall, and strained your ears to listen.

“They should have outgrown imaginary friends by now... but they still talk about Azul, Jade, and Floyd as if they’re real people. Adding more and more details every day... It feels as though they’re disassociating themselves from reality.”

Ice climbed over your skin. Your body was present in the moment, but your mind felt far away--soul and spirit disconnected, jarred by the declaration. It was a punch to the gut, sending your thoughts whirling.

“They do the same thing in school,” your mother continued. “Their teacher called the other day, said [Name] sits and talks to themselves instead of with their classmates. They’re a bright child, but they’re so closed off from others... it’s alarming.”

“We can take them to the doctor. Maybe they can help us sort it out.”

“No! No, that can’t... that won’t do. I don’t want to ruin their fun, or make them think they have some kind of problem...”

“You’d rather we wait for it to go away on its own? How long would that take? The kid’s growing up fast. They might sooner lose sense of who they are before the issue poofs away.”

“You’ll crush their spirit. All their hopes and dreams.”

“At least then we’d still have our child intact. Not these... fake fish folk they speak through. They can’t keep living in a fantasy world forever, and we can’t keep sheltering them in it.”

“I… I suppose you have a point. Sooner or later, they have to realize a fantasy is a fantasy. Better that we address it now.”

“I’ll call the doctor in the morning, then.”

“Please do.”

The ground fell away at your feet, the world tilting.

Your chest tightened as you took a shaky step back. Then another, and another--until you bumped into something. No, three someones.

“... [Name]-san, it is well past your bed time,” Azul tutted, placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you. “You shouldn’t be up and about like this.”

“You should go about your business in the restroom, then see yourself off to bed,” Jade chimed in calmly.

“You’ll need your shut-eye if you want to have the energy to play, Little Shrimp!” Floyd added.

“Mom and dad think there’s something wrong with me,” you mumbled back, eyes dazed and blank.

You stared at your hands. The very same ones that clung to others, tapped goldfish tanks, watered flowers, played games, and poured drinks. They seemed so foreign now--so alien.

Otherwordly and unreal.

Azul grasped your trembling fingers.

And without another word, the trio guided you through the dark world.

You stood in silence by your bed, clutching onto Azul’s hand until your knuckles turned as white as the moon. Jade was busying himself with fluffing up your pillow, while Floyd was folding up your comforter into various origami-like shapes. The moon peered through your window, training its gaze on you.

A heaviness permeated the room, stifling all sounds.

Your various sea creature plushies looked on--an audience, watching, waiting.

Azul cleared his throat. “[Name]-san, I believe the time has finally arrived for us to part ways.”

Your snapped to him, face contorting in horror. “What? You’re… You’re going away?”

“It is for the best. You’ve grown far too old to continue clinging to shadows of the past.” Azul readjusted his hat, the brim casting a shadow across his features. Eyes as blue as the sea, and hair like moonlight--just how it had looked when you had first seen him.

“But I don’t want you to go. You’re my best friends. My only friends!”

“Little Shrimp can make new friends!” Floyd unfurled your blanket upon the mattress, blinding a number of your stuffed animals. “You won’t have any problems, since you’re so fun to play with!”

“None of them will be as cool as you guys! Or as strong and smart. I bet none of them are merpeople, either!”

“I’m afraid that flattery will get you nowhere.” Jade set down your pillow—freshly fluffed. “Azul is right. You’re growing in every sense of the term—our services are no longer needed here.”

“Lingering for longer than is necessary…” He shook his head, his earring clinking. “That would be coddling. Fufu. Such an insult to one who is already perfectly capable of looking after themselves.”

“But…”

“Depend on others too much, and you will incur a debt that you cannot possibly pay off,” Azul warned, wagging a finger.

“I don’t care! I’ll do whatever it takes to make you guys stay! You can take all the money in my piggy bank, all the mushrooms I raised, and Goldfishy too!”

“I can keep Goldfishy? Yaaay!”

“Floyd, please. We’re having an important discussion here!” Azul sighed in exasperation, hands folded as he regarded you.

His expression and his voice softened. “... We care for you—and because we care for you, we must also learn to let you go. Just as you must also learn to let us go. It is the only way you can continue growing splendidly.”

Azul patted the bed, now fully made. “Even if change is difficult or painful, it must be done if you wish to be your best self.”

You didn’t let go of his hand, and made no effort to climb onto your mattress.

Azul sighed, scooping you up in his arms and depositing you onto your bed in a swift motion. You stared up at him. His face was engulfed by shadows, moonlight outlining his form.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” he asked quietly. “Think of that, and let it be your motivation and courage for change.”

“A merperson,” you squeaked, voice hoarse. “I want to be where the mermaids are. I want to see them laughing, and dancing, and swimming through the sea. I want to be a part of that world—a part of your world.”

“... Is that truly what you wish for?”

“Yes. I want it more than anything.”

Jade and Floyd slinked over, flanking either side of Azul. Their golden eyes pulsated under the cover of night.

“You will always be a part of our world, so long as you are thinking of us,” Jade reassured you in a soothing cadence.

Taking your comforter in both hands, he neatly tucked you into bed. You raised your head to argue, but he eased you back against your pillow with a nudge on your forehead.. 

“We won’t be gone forever! The water’s always around. You can look for us, like a big game of hide-and-go-seek.”

Floyd seized a shark plushie from beside you and, with a giggle, tickled your nose with the stuffed animal’s maw. You laughed, swatting at him with your arms. The shark tumbled out of his grasp and rolled onto your lap, its silly smile a reminder of Floyd’s own.

You snatched it up and held it close to you. Squeezing so tight, you feared the shark’s button eyes would pop off.

You dared not look them in the eyes when the next words left your mouth.

“... I’ll miss you,” you sniffled, eyes watering and burning—threatening to spill over.

“Hey now, Little Shrimp! Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” Floyd ran a hand through your hair, tangling it all up between his fingers. “I had a blast while it lasted~”

“Do not think of this as the ending,” Jade advised with a bow. “Think of it as a new beginning. The start to a new song, simply with fewer performers than the last number.”

“A new song…?”

Azul expelled a sigh. “That is enough talk, you two. You are prolonging things.”

“Boo, lame.”

“My apologies.”

The twins silently stepped back, rejoining Azul.

“[Name]-san, it is late, and you look absolutely exhausted. You’d best be off to sleep now—perhaps dreaming of swimming in the sea.”

“I’m afraid that if I close my eyes, you’ll already be gone when I wake up.”

“... A lullaby would help,” Azul suggested. “You always were a fan of our songs, weren’t you? It was how we first met—and now, let it be how we depart.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

The bed creaked in protest as Azul and the twins seated themselves upon it. You weren’t sure who started it, or when, but before long, a low hum had floated over, wrapping itself around your head. The opening notes to a sorrowful song from the distant past.

Ruin and rebirth.

You couldn’t quite understand the words. They slurred and melded together, like a stream of water in constant motion—yet there was a comforting, soft cushion to their composition. Valleys and crests in the notes, filled with tears and fragmented hearts. Sad and happy at the same time.

Bittersweet.

Your eyes fluttered, despite your best efforts to keep them wide open. A pleasant, tingly warmth enveloped you from head to toe—thanks to magic of the music, and your blanket cocoon—and a curtain of drowsiness descended upon you.

You yawned, fresh tears forming in your eyes as they, at last, shut. The world went black, and sounds muffled, as your consciousness slowly faded away.

The last thing you heard...

“Sweet dreams, little one. May we meet again in another time and place.”

The moon looked on through the window, and shed a tear into the sea.

[yuujispinkhair]

Anniversary Event: Date with your fave for @yuujilove

Lifeguard!Yuuji & Jay

A day at the beach

Your day at the beach with your personal lifeguard is fun and romantic. So far, you've been strolling down the beach promenade while holding hands and looking into the shop windows or at each other, grinning anytime you caught each other looking.

You got ice cream at the cute pastel-colored ice cream stand that almost has the same shade of pink as Yuuji's hair. And the ice tasted delicious, probably even more so because Yuuji let you sit on his lap the whole time, and anytime he stole kisses from you, you tasted the strawberry ice cream melting on his tongue.

And now you have arrived on the wooden pier where you get ready to go for a swim in the ocean.

You can't take your eyes off Yuuji when he takes off his shirt and pants to reveal his red swim trunks and gorgeous buff figure. He looks so sexy! All toned muscles and sunkissed skin and that pretty sunshine smile. Your heart is beating way too fast.

But his eyes are on you too as you let your sundress fall onto the pier, revealing the cute bikini you are wearing beneath it. You can't help but smile when you see Yuuji licking his lips absentmindedly as he lets his admiring gaze wander over your body.

He sounds breathless and cute when he steps closer and runs a large hand down your back, and his low voice murmurs into your ear:

"You are so pretty, baby. God, I am losing my mind anytime I look at you."

But before you can get all flustered at his words, he chuckles and jumps into the ocean with a happy laugh and a loud splash.

"The water is amazing! Come join me, cutie! Don't worry, I will catch you!"

You get butterflies when you see Yuuji's sunshine smile and those pretty honey eyes looking up at you with that cheeky sparkle. He lifts his strong arms, holding them out for you.

And you know that he will catch you if you jump. Your strong and sweet boy! Even though he isn't a real lifeguard, he is your personal hero.

You finally jump off the pier too with a loud squeal, but a moment later, you are already in Yuuji's muscular arms, safe and sound, pressed against his strong body, wrapping your legs around his hips and laughing loudly before your lips find Yuuji's in another sweet summer kiss.

The two of you spend hours at the beach. Swimming and engaging in playful banter. You splash each other with water and laugh and squeal as you try to dunk Yuuji underwater. And he wraps his buff arms around you and carries you back into the soft waves when you try to "escape". You chase each other across the sandy shore, and anytime you catch one another, it ends in tight hugs and hot kisses.

When the evening draws near, you get pizza and lemonade from a nearby restaurant and bring it to the beach, where you sit down in the warm sand to eat and chat until the sun begins to set.

Yuuji gently pulls you between his muscular legs, letting you lean against his broad chest to watch the sunset with him. His toned arms are wrapped around you holding you in a loving embrace while his warm lips trail soft kisses over your neck.

You smile and intertwine your fingers with his. You feel so happy here in Yuuji's arms, and the beautiful sunset that bathes everything in pink and orange light makes the moment even more romantic.

But the sunset isn't the only thing that is right out of a romance novel or movie.

Yuuji rummages around in his backpack with one hand, and suddenly something dangles before your eyes.

It's a pretty beach bracelet. A brown leather band adorned with cute little seashells and pink and white beads.

"Oh! Yuuji, did you get that for me?"

"Yes, sweetie...I hope you like it." 

"Of course I like it! I love it! Thank you so much, baby! You're really the sweetest!"

"Awww no, that's all you!"

You smile as Yuuji puts the bracelet on your wrist and then you hold your hand up against the sky to admire the pretty beads and seashells sparkling beautifully in the light of the setting sun. There in the middle is a small heart-shaped metal charm, and it is engraved with the initials J & Y.

You gasp softly and then turn around in Yuuji's arms, straddling his lap and hugging him tightly as Yuuji's strong hands land on your waist, caressing your sides tenderly as he looks a bit sheepishly at you.

"I'm glad you like it! It's not a gold bracelet or any real jewels. But I thought it looked pretty...."

You smile and press a gentle kiss to his cheek before telling him:

"I don't need any gold jewelry Yuuji. The only gold I need is right here."

You gently poke his defined pecs with your index finger, pointing at where his heart is.

Yuuji's eyes widen in understanding, and he throws his head back and laughs that cute happy laugh before his eyes sparkle at you with so much love in them that it makes your heart melt. Your sweet summer boy with the heart of gold.

Hey, my sweet Jay!! I hope you enjoyed your beach date with Yuuji bae!! Thank you so much for your lovely words and for being such a sweet and kind person! I am happy that we can scream about Yuuji together :)

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 2–

You knew that if anyone outside of this car saw you right now, you might just pass away. To put it simply: You were sitting on Killua's lap.

All because Kite's truck only fit seven people.

The way this predicament came about would have been comical if it weren't for your burning embarrassment. Unfortunately, you could remember very clearly how it all unfolded:

"Hmm, it seems that there aren't enough seats for all eight of us, so one person will have to squish in," Kite said, opening the car door to check the seats.

"Who's the smallest one here?" Gon asked. All seven pairs of eyes turned to look at you.

Great. The benefits of never having had your growth spurt.

Killua was the one to open his mouth, snickering, "Obviously it's Y/N. She's like a midget!"

"Killua, you are literally an entire 2 ½ feet shorter than Kite over there," you defended yourself.

From a distance, you had guessed Kite was around 6'3. Once you got a closer look at him, you discovered that he towered over you like a skyscraper. Your curiosity got the best of you and naturally, you had asked him what his height was. The man was a whopping 7 foot 10.

"It's okay Y/N, you can squish with me," Gon offered.

Killua shook his head. "No way. Squishing will just make everyone uncomfortable. It's better if only one person suffers. Y/N, you can sit on my lap."

He had left no room for argument. Sighing, you knew that even if you tried, you had no say in this anymore. You would just have to suck it up for the next 4 hours.

Now you were here, sitting on him, worrying about whether you were cutting the circulation off to his legs or not. Or perhaps you were too bony and it was hurting him.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and it sent goosebumps across your entire body. This was beyond awkward.

"Stop it," Killua muttered, right in your ear.

Oh, you'd done it now, hadn't you? Killua was gonna push you off onto Gon instead.

"Stop what?"

"You're so stiff, just...relax," he paused, "I don't mind sitting this way."

Hearing his voice so close to you sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Maybe this was okay.

You untensed, trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, but the bumpy car ride wasn't making it very easy. Kite ran over a rock, and without a seatbelt it sent you jerking upwards. Thanks to his fast reflexes, Killua gripped your waist, holding you tightly to his body.

"The seatbelt won't reach over the both of us, but this'll keep you from flying."

"Heh, thanks Killua. I think we should reach the beach in a bit..." you said, hoping that the thought of it being over soon might offer him some relief.

It doesn't matter who it is, being this close to someone could send anyone into a frenzy. You were hyper-aware of every one of his fingers grasping onto your waist. He wasn't lying. He was keeping you right there.

You'd just have to stop thinking about it, you told yourself. Or else you'd go crazy.

Trying to relax back into Killua like he had asked, you let your mind wander to the reason you were driving in the first place. The day before, the three of you had decided to stick with Kite and help him investigate the Chimera ants. The beach you were headed to now is supposed to have a clue about where the ant queen is located, so you could bring an end to the destruction before it starts. During the car ride, you had learned they were a truly deadly species. One bite of an innocent passerby, and they had the means to bring the entire human race to extinction.

You felt like something was starting. And your intuition was rarely wrong.

Gazing at Gon who had been talking with Kite for a while now, you noticed how his eyes crinkle into little smiles whenever he talks. You knew that having Kite around, his father's best friend, surely excited him to the bone. Gon was just oozing with optimism, without even trying. You could tell that just by being himself, he was keeping the spirits up of all eight in the group, not allowing any room for doubt or fear to creep into anyone's minds.

At that moment, you swore that whatever happened, you would be there to protect Gon and Killua. Even if it costs you everything.

Hopefully, this wasn't one of your friends' last few moments of tranquility. But if it was, you were determined to spend it well.

Resting your head against Killua, you hoped that he wouldn't mind if you indulged in this for just a moment. You were tired, having not gotten much rest since completing Greed Island and meeting Kite.

It didn't take much time for you to fall asleep to the rise and fall of Killua's steady breathing and his sweet vanilla scent. If you'd been awake, you might have even heard his heartbeat racing beneath you.

⋯✰⋯

You had finally reached the beach.

Killua had nudged you awake once you'd gotten there. You remembered how his blue eyes stared back at you as he poked your face, calling you an idiot for falling asleep, and you chuckled.

There was one thing you were clueless about; Killua had made sure not to move even once the whole rest of the car ride. He was nervous that he might disturb your peacefully sleeping form.

You were still pretty groggy as you looked out at the sea, the bright sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. You wanted to wiggle your toes in the sand, but you were there for a reason. To find anything that might lead to the Queen.

You searched in bushes, behind rocks, under seashells, and even used your nen to sift through as much sand as you could. So far, the group had ruled out the forest and deemed it difficult to know if the ant even ended up on the same island. That's when they decided to release the hellhound. Well- it wasn't a hellhound. It was the little dog you played with yesterday. Along with Gon.

Gon was following behind the dog on all floors, sniffing the ground as he went.

"He can do that?" You asked no one in particular.

"His nose is as sharp as a dog's," Killua responded, watching Gon with an amused look in his eye.

A couple minutes went by with no luck. The only thing the dog had found was a tree to pee on. It looked like the ant wasn't going to be on this island, though Kite had an idea.

"It may have washed ashore somewhere else. Which direction do the currents flow here?" Kite asked the two that had brought us down to the beach. One was short with brown skin and grey hair that sprouted up like hay, while the other had large glasses and two front teeth poking out from his mouth.

"The direction is reversed between day and night. And it also changes with the seasons. I've even heard it's different on certain days. So it'll be tough to pinpoint a location..." said Chipmunk Teeth. That's what you'd call him, since you hadn't gotten his name.

So basically, no one had any idea on how to find the Chimera Ant Queen.

"Continuing to search blindly is pointless. We should return to YorkNew and see if we can find any new leads there."

You heard the group around you agreeing with Kite. He and his friends began walking back to the truck already, but you stayed put. You would catch up to them later.

The ocean reminded you of your home. You thought you should say goodbye to it first.

Ripples of water lapped gently at your feet. You always had a connection with nature. Having lived in a small village located in the middle of a jungle most of your life, the earth had become your dearest friend. One of your earliest memories was from exploring the coves back at home. You stretched out your arm across the water, and watched the liquid softly rise to your hand as you called it.

That's why you chose this nen ability. It tied you to the elements. When you fought with it, together you were one body.

"Y/N, come on! Kite's threatening to leave without you," Gon waved you over. Taking one last look at the sea, you turned away.

The sun was already setting by the time you left for the city.

⋯✰⋯

Going back to YorkNew was the right decision. Now you all knew where to look.

Kite had discovered that the possibilities of the Chimera Ant landing in NGL were the highest. Apparently, NGL was a country populated with people who wanted to get away from machine civilization and live in nature.

You loved nature too, but you thought that was a little extreme. There was a reason you had to leave your beloved jungle behind.

"There may very well be a giant swarm of Chimera Ants already hunting humans down. If that's the case, my top priority will be saving them. You must be able to protect yourselves," Kite warned us.

"And if I am the one in trouble, you should escape without me."

At that, Gon and Killua looked unsettled. But backing down now was not an option.

"Got it," you said, breaking the silence and offering a kind nod to Kite, "and until the very last moment, the three of us will have your back."

"Yeah!" The other two boys concurred.

Now, you sat with Gon and Killua on an airship to NGL. The three of you were sitting on a bench, looking out of a window that framed velvet-peach clouds displaying brilliant silver linings.

Gon was reflecting on their last conversation with Kite.

"You said that Ging had a reason for bringing me and Kite together," he rested his arms and head on the window-frame.

Killua broke his sight from the clouds and looked at Gon.

"Yeah, I did."

"You're probably right. I don't know the reason, but I can't give up halfway, no matter what's going on. Otherwise, I'll disappoint Ging... And I'd never be able to forgive myself either. So I won't run away," Gon continued, resolved with his decision.

There was a moment of silence as the three of you let his words sink in.

You admired Gon's determination, but you hated that Ging had a son risking his life just to avoid disappointing a dad he's never met.

"Man, you had this totally serious expression, so I was expecting something big. But it's just business as usual," Killua smiled.

"Huh?" Gon's mouth hung open. "I thought about this a lot, I even ran a bunch of mental simulations! And I liked what Y/N said earlier, about having Kite's back until the very end."

"Think all you want, but you'll still be Gon. If someone said to abandon them, you'd never do it," You lightly punched his shoulder.

He pouted, cradling where you hit him, and you rolled your eyes.

"Drama queen."

Gon chose to ignore that and turned back to Killua. "Then what would you do?'"

"I'm a spontaneous guy, so I'd think about it once the time comes."

"So, you'd run away?" Gon questioned.

"Depends. I can't say until it actually happens."

"Say for instance..."

Killua threw his hands up, beat, "I can't tell you what I'd do in a hypothetical situation!"

"Then, what about you Y/N?"

"Gon!" You whined.

Truth be told, you hadn't thought about what you would do. It depended like Killua said. But you did know one thing...

"I would never leave you two behind. Even if that meant I'd have to die."

⋯✰⋯

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Knitting You a Home - 5

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 2,745

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

The outside world faded away from Namjoon as he sat in his studio, scratching out lines that he’d previously written, trying to find another way that explained the way he was feeling that flowed with the song.

He had been like this for the last several hours, biding his time as Yoongi and him waited for the artist to arrive and listen to the tracks they had prepared, and to give them the input they needed on that one song.

“You know, as nice and passionate as he seems to be about his music,” Yoongi murmured, scrolling through his phone like he had been for the last few hours. “I really hate it when people are late and don’t bother to call and give a heads up.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement, not even bothering to check the time. Instead, he chewed on his bottom lip, sighing as he once again drew a harsh black line. The page had slowly filled in with more crossed out lyrics than when he started rewriting it this morning.

He had felt bad leaving you in bed this morning, again. Like clockwork, he’d leave the house by seven thirty to guarantee he’d make it to the bus stop to get to work ten minutes before eight, but this morning had been different. Those few moments you shared when he did crawl into bed hadn’t happened this time, and it left him feeling off centered. You had ended your day not knowing if he came home, and were going to start it off waking up and wondering if he had come home.

Then he ended up not being able to go visit you during his lunch break, because by a stroke of luck, Yoongi had called him over to Genius Studio to go over an idea he had on the unspeakable song. They had nicknamed it that when the rapper turned down another version that they had for it this morning.

It was only a quick and short text that he was able to send to you before going over to Yoongi’s studio, feeling even guiltier. If his math was correct, then you hadn’t seen him since yesterday at lunch. Which was one thing if the two of you lived in separate houses and were only dating, but you lived with each other, shared the same bed, your paths should have crossed more than once.

Not hearing a reply from Namjoon, Yoongi lifted his head, shifting on the couch to see that his friend was still leaned back in his chair. His feet were propped up on the drawer of his desk with the notebook against his legs.

Yoongi’s tail lightly thumped against the couch – not even Namjoon’s ears flicked in his direction – and he glanced at the time. It wasn’t late like yesterday, only eight, but just like the other day he wanted Namjoon to go home. He was concerned about his friend and thought that he needed to get away from the studio and spend some time with you.

Maybe by being with you, Namjoon would realize that it didn’t matter whether there was a ring on your finger, or a Mate Mark on your neck, you were the love of his life and he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

“Mixtape?” He finally asked, curious as to which project Namjoon was working on.

Namjoon nodded, finally turning to the next clean page to write out what he had. Maybe if it wasn’t surrounded by scribbles and cross outs, he’d be able to figure out the next few lines before the chorus.

Namjoon reached out and tapped on his phone out of habit, curious if you had messaged him. The lock screen photo made him smile, taking a moment to admire it before going to his messages. It was from the morning after one of his heats and naturally, he had woken up before you. Sunlight had streamed through the curtains, highlighting your body in an otherworldly glow as you slept. The only adjustment he had made was when he brushed your hair off your neck, revealing the – at the time – Mate Mark that was only a couple days old.

It was a picture that relaxed and sent a wave of pride through him. While the day that you officially adopted him was one of the happiest days of his life, this particular moment in time was forever ingrained in his heart. He had found the one person meant for him.

When he finally pulled up his messages, he smiled as he saw an unread text from you.

From Angel:

Don’t worry about it Joonie! I have some news to tell you when you come home, so I’ll see you tonight. Love you!

He hoped you hadn’t gone overboard with dinner, but knowing you, you probably dug out the cookbooks and decided to try a new recipe. Without a doubt there’d be a plate fixed up for him waiting in the fridge for him when he came home. The gesture was sweet and while he was thankful for you thinking of him, it only made him want to come home at a normal time to eat it with you, when it was done cooking.

A knocking at the door captured his attention, forcing him to slide his notebook closed with the flyer for the underground rap battle serving as a bookmark back into the drawer when Yoongi opened the door. Namjoon hid his surprise when not only the rapper entered the room – apologizing for being so late – but a woman entered with him, her hand clasped in his own.

One inhale and Namjoon was gripping the arm of his chair, feeling like he had gotten run over when the scent of her overbearing perfume hit him, along with the rapper’s scent coming from her as well.

In some shape or form, these two were together, and they hadn’t been late due to dinner as he was telling Yoongi.

“Well,” Namjoon spoke, clearing his throat as he shook hands with the artist and then his, friend. “Why don’t we get started.”

As everyone got comfortable, Namjoon glanced at Yoongi over their heads, raising an eyebrow at his older friend.

Yoongi simply scrunched up his nose, tail flickering in agitation at the humans overpowering scents.

It was going to be a long night.

“Knit one, pearl two,” you softly murmured, reading over the knitting pattern. Dinner had long since been put away and the dishes cleaned up, a plate already made up and set aside in the fridge for Namjoon for when he came home.

Since you were officially on vacation, you were sitting on the couch with a pattern you had printed out God knows how long ago. It was for a baby blanket, and as you had been rifling through your binder of patterns, you couldn’t help but linger on this particular one. It was too soon to assume – with Hoseok leaving for a year at the end of the month it certainly wasn’t going to happen – but you couldn’t help but think that Sarah would need it. If not now then she would one day for sure. Something told you that her and Hoseok weren’t going to have only one child.

And if not, it’ll make a beautiful display for the shop, you thought, writing a check mark in your notebook next to row one, continuing on to the next one. Right now, it just looked like a long section of yellow yarn. Give it a few days and it would look like the picture, a baby blanket with a seashell design big enough to wrap the baby up in or to put in the crib.

Sighing, you glanced at the clock on the wall, not surprised that Namjoon wasn’t home. It was only nine, too early for him to even consider leaving work.

It hadn’t always been like this. He used to come home at a normal time, or the latest at least eight pm. That had been when he first started working for the music company. With Yoongi by his side guiding him, Namjoon had managed to work his way up and was able to produce music alongside with Yoongi. The promotion had surprised even you, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that Namjoon was doing a job that he loved, and from the stories he told you with bright smiles, the hours he spent at the studio were worth all the late nights.

Of course, you missed him. You missed teasing him as he tried to help prepare dinner, and curling up on the couch when the dishes were done. Tender moments of when the two of you were in separate worlds, him lost in a story or new book of poetry and you knitting up a new project, but always connected as he pulled your legs over his lap and would run his palm along your bare skin. Those were the sweetest memories that you missed.

Tonight, was nearly identical to those precious moments. The TV was on low, your legs stretched out on the couch as the knitting needles clicked together. The only thing that was missing, was Namjoon.

Namjoon pressed down on the back of his neck, groaning as he entered the house. The night had gone exactly as he had thought, and they were still left with the unspeakable song to do. Every idea and suggestion ended up crumpled up and thrown in the trashcan.

By the time the artist and his girlfriend left, both him and Yoongi reeked  of the perfume she wore, and Namjoon was growling in irritability because his studio no longer had his scent. He had spent the last hour trying to rid the room of hers, but it was no use. The only female scent that belonged in there was yours, and he was debating on having you come by one day to help restore order. Until he got a shower and smelled like himself again, scenting his studio was absolutely pointless.

He stopped short in the living room however, his thoughts hitting pause as he walked around the couch to see you asleep. The basket that held your knitting was placed on the floor next to the end table, the throw blanket that was usually over your chair half haphazardly covered your body.

The sight of you sleeping eased some of his distress, but it only raised a new worry now. Crouching down, he gently brushed back the hair that had fallen, a soft smile appearing on his face as he gazed at you. There was probably a good reason you were out here instead of in bed, but like a quick fire, guilt plagued him at the thought that you had been waiting for him. He remembered that you had wanted to tell him something, but he didn’t think it was serious enough for you to camp out on the couch.

“Angel,” he softly called out, running his knuckles against your temple. “Wake up sweetheart, it’s time for bed.”

A soft groan came from your lips, making him chuckle, but he continued on. “Come on, you know an angel like you isn’t meant to sleep on a couch.”

You tiredly smiled before opening your eyes, relishing at the sight of Namjoon. “The only angel I see here is you.” You stretched a hand out to cup his cheek, sighing at the content sound of his growl.

Namjoon ducked his head down, chuckling as he gazed lovingly at you. A wave of deja view had him taking a trip down memory lane, recalling another time when he had come home to find you sleeping on the couch in an attempt to wait up for him.

“Why weren’t you sleeping in your bed?” He hoarsely asked, watching you unfold the towel and settle it on his hair, all while being mindful of his ears. He hadn’t expected the rain and he was soaked as a result of the sudden storm.

You didn’t answer for a few moments. Instead you were focused on drying his hair and gathering your thoughts. “I was waiting for you to come home,” you finally answered, moving the towel off his head. His wolf ears lifted up, bringing a soft smile to your face despite the serious situation at hand, and began to carefully dry them as well.

His eyes burned with tears and despite biting his lip and trying to think of anything else, he couldn’t. Never before had a place been a home for Namjoon. The feeling was foreign and it scared him. The idea of there being a place where he felt safe, cared about, and loved terrified him, so he ran.

He ran until he realized there was no-where he wanted to be than with you, that the only person he wanted was you. He loved the things that you knitted him, he enjoyed starting his weekend off with you on the couch drinking coffee and watching those wedding shows.

He loved the way your house always smelled like something was being baked, and he sincerely appreciated that after he woke up from a nightmare, you were there to coax him out into the kitchen where you prepared to make tea or coffee and a late-night snack to take his mind off of his memories. You never forced him to, but he knew that you’d listen if he wanted to talk about it.

Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you closer so he was able to rest his forehead against your stomach.

The tears slid down his cheeks as he sobbed, his grip tightening the slightest when he felt you move. But it was only to set the towel on the table as you wrapped your own arms around his shoulders, gently rubbing your hands in circles on his back.

“It’s okay Namjoon,” you softly spoke. “You’re home now. It’s gonna be okay.”

Shaking his head, he gently slid an arm underneath you to help you sit up right. “Are you awake enough to tell me about that news?” He teasingly asked.

You frowned up at him but realization dawned on your features, resulting in him chuckling as you nodded. Holding your hands out, Namjoon took them in his as he pulled you up, immediately leading you to the bedroom.

“Well as of today, Grandma has declared that I’m on vacation,” you told him. He slid his arm around your waist and you leaned into him, your nose scrunching up at the citrus smell on his shirt.

“She finally got tired of you?” He joked, not noticing the way your face fell.

Licking your lips, you frowned as a headache began to form behind your eyes at the scent. “She says that we work too much and don’t spend enough time together.”

“Was there the mention of us having kids?”

“That we should be in a certain room in our house more than we are.”

Namjoon snorted, watching as you sat down on the bed before going to his dresser and pulling out a new pair of boxers. “I need a quick shower but I shouldn’t be long.” He smiled as he walked back towards you, kissing your lips briefly before heading to the bathroom.

The water was heard instantly. You were staring at the doorway, wondering if he had known. He had to know that he reeked of another woman’s perfume, his own sense of smell was heightened incredibly compared to yours but yet, he didn’t say anything. There was no explanation for why he smelled like that.

Reaching up to touch the side of your neck, you shakily inhaled as you forced yourself to dress for bed, curling up under the blankets on your side.

It was the first time that he was home before midnight. The first time in so damn long that the two of you were going to bed at the same time, and he smelled of another woman. While you figured there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, your heart seemed to hang in your chest.

By the time he crawled in behind you, burying his face in your neck and softly kissing the skin, you couldn’t erase the venomous thought that there was no other reason for why he was staying so late at the studio anymore.

Before you had wondered if…now you were wondering just who wore that disgusting perfume. 

[bubblywrites]

All Of The Good Things

Bruno Buccellati x Reader

Summary:

Y/n was the love of Bruno's life. When she died, Bruno became broken. He tries to push through the pain for their daughter Mari, but he ultimately struggles to make it through their day to day life. All he can do is reminisce on all the good moments he had with his wife.

Word Count: 5,248

A/n: The reader has curly hair, but you can ignore that detail if you don’t have that hair texture. The fic is based off of Jhene Aiko’s song Eternal Sunshine

Bruno was awoken by the warm kiss of sunlight and angelic humming. The tune held a sense of joy but had a hint of sadness. Bruno felt himself relax further as soft hands gently grasped his face to move him on to pillowly thighs. Slender fingers ran through his blue-tinted black locks with occasional soft tugs. Bruno let a smile creep onto his face as he sighed through his nose. The beautiful humming stopped.

“Did I wake you?” You asked with a faint chuckle. Bruno kept his eyes closed as he responded to your question. “I thought I could pretend to be asleep, so I could hear more of your humming.” He said in a groggy voice. “Well you failed at that.” You said. You gently pinched his cheek. Bruno let out a low laugh. “I did. Could you please continue?” Bruno asked. “No problem.” You responded.

You began to hum your song again. Light notes flowed out of you with grace. Words soon followed. Bruno snuggled further into your thighs as you sang.

“Is it strange for me to say that If I were to die today There's not a thing I would change I've lived well Maybe I have made mistakes and been through my fair share of pain But all in all, it's been okay, I've lived well And the more that I see, the more that I know I don't know anything, at all Like the more that I breath, and start to go slow Oh, one of many things, I can only recall All of the good things, good things All of the good things, good things Only the good, the good, the good Only the good, the good, the good” You stopped your song. Bruno kept his eyes closed but raised an eyebrow at your sudden silence. He felt light taps to his forehead.

“It’s time for you to go to work Bruno.” You said. Bruno scrunched his eyebrows at your statement. He reluctantly pulled himself from your thighs to sit up on the bed. He stretched his arms which created defined creases along the toned muscles of his back. A view he knew you enjoyed since he slept with no shirt on. He raked his fingers through his bed hair. He turned around to catch you in the middle of your.

“Do you enjoy the view cara?” Bruno joked. “I do every morning.” You said. Bruno chuckled at your response. “Do you know what I enjoy every morning?” Bruno asked. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a small smirk on your face. You blinked at him slowly. He loved when you gave him sass. It gave him a chance to wipe the smirk off your face and teach you lessen.

“What?” You questioned. Bruno scooted closer to you. He gently grasped your face and brought your forehead against his. He looked into your (e/c) eyes with an intense gaze. He had to stop his smirk when he saw light pink creep unto your face. Bruno tilted his head to press his lips against yours. The kiss started off chaste but became hungry. Bruno pulled you into his lap and snaked his arms around your waist. You rested your hands on his shoulders. Bruno licked your lower lip asking for entrance. You refused him.

“She’s still acting sassy.” Bruno thought to himself. Bruno used his right hand to pinch your peaked nipple through your pajama shirt. You opened your mouth to let out a squeak which allowed him to slide his tongue into your mouth. He engaged in a dance with your tongue. A dance that only the two of you knew. Your soft moan spurred Bruno on. He held you in a desperate embrace as if you would disappear. You two broke the kiss for air. Bruno held you against him as he laid back down on the bed. He peppered your face with kisses. Your giggles were music to his ears. Your singing, humming, laughter, moans, and cries were beautiful performances meant for his ears alone. You were his personal symphony. You stopped your giggle fit and cusped the side of Bruno’s face. He leaned into your touch to bask in your warmth.

“Its not like you to get side tracked Mr. Workaholic. But I won’t play into anymore of your affections. You need to get ready for the day. Plus you need to wake up Mari.” You said. Bruno’s face grew sullen. He grabbed the hand that held his face.

“When I wake up to get ready with Mari, you won’t be there.” He said in a broken voice. You two held on to each other tighter. You gave him a sad smile.

“I know Bruno, but you have to get ready for work. You have to get ready for Mari. You have to move on Bruno.” You said. Bruno’s eyes shot open at your words. How could he possibly move on? There was only one love of his life. There was only one woman who could be a mother to his precious Mari. There was only one woman who could bring him happiness. There was only one you.

“How could I move on from you amore mio? You and Mari are the only women who I can hold close to my heart.” He said. Bruno’s voice shook. Tears spilled from his eyes as he held a vice-grip on your hand and waist. He felt your warm fingers wipe away his tears. You moved closer to him to press a kiss against his forehead. “Bruno, amore mio, you have to get ready. You have to get Mari ready. You have to wake up.”

Loud buzzing rang through Bruno’s bedroom. Bruno turned to look at his alarm clock with pure malice. He slammed his hand on the device to turn it off. Bruno lifted his hand to wipe the grogginess away from his eyes. He stopped when he noticed the tears that streaked down his face. The sunlight streamed into his room to kiss his skin. But the kiss of the sun felt more like a cold grip on his body without your morning songs. Bruno moved to get out of bed. He did not dare look at the other side of the bed. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of your lack of presence. Bruno stared at the drawer next to his bed. Your perfume, charm bracelets, and makeup decorated the top of the drawer. They never moved spots since the day you passed. His head sunk low as his mind raced with memories of your morning routines.

“Why do you even wear makeup? You're pretty without it.” Bruno asked. “I don’t just wear it to feel prettier. I wear it because it’s fun. It's like I allow myself to become my own canvas. I am able to tell a story with my face.” You responded. Bruno grabbed your hand to kiss it. “Your bare face tells the best story of all.” Bruno said. You blushed at his words. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Bruno gripped his dark locks so tight his knuckles turned white. Before he could let his mind wander to more memories of you, a small knock came from his door. Bruno attempted to wipe the dread from his face before he answered. “Come in.” He said. The door creaked as a tiny body entered the room. Bruno stared at his three year old daughter, Mari. Mari had his blue-tinted black hair, but it was your curly hair texture. She had his eyes, but everything else came from you.

“Buon giorno, Daddy.” She said. “Buon giorno, Mari.” Bruno responded. He opened his arms wide with a smile. His smile was tired and felt strained, but Bruno wanted to try his hardest to look happy for his daughter. Mari ran into his arms. He embraced her as tight as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled away from the hug. Bruno rested his hand on the top of her head. He twirled her curls around his fingers. Mari did not look as tired as he did, but she had changed. Her childish laughter could no longer be heard through the halls of the house. She smiled less and slept more often. It made the house quieter and colder.

“Daddy!” Mari yelled. Bruno turned to see Mari turn the corner in a rush. She jumped at him. Although surprised, Bruno caught Mari with ease. “What's got you screaming and running through the house bambina?” Bruno asked with a smile. “Mommy is chasing me. You have to help me.” Mari said with giddiness. Before he could act, you entered the kitchen with your radiant smile. You looked at the two with an exaggerated maniacal face.

“She found me!” Mari yelled. Bruno pressed Mari closer to his chest. “I see I have two tickle victims now.” You said. You laughed like a villain in a child’s television show. Bruno put Mari down to step in front of her. He put his arm in front of her. Bruno cleared his throat.

“I will not let you harm my princess you villainess queen.” Bruno said. Bruno had to try hard to hold in his laugh. You jumped at Bruno, but he caught you with ease. He gave you a soft tackle to the floor and attacked your sides. You erupted into laughter. You tried to push him off of you, but Bruno only applied more pressure onto your body.

“Get her Daddy!” Mari said enthusiastically. Bruno turned to give Mari a heroic smile. Bruno didn’t notice you took advantage of his distracted state to grab Mari. You pulled her which caused Bruno to fall on top of you. Mari landed on top of Bruno’s back.

“You guys are heavy.” You whined. Bruno looked at you with a grin that stretched ear to ear. Mari giggled into Bruno’s back. The laughter and joy in the kitchen resonated through the whole house.

Bruno let out a sigh as he realized he will never have moments like that again. He picked Mari up to take her to her room. As he walked down the hallway, he tried hard not to look at the pictures that littered the wall. All of the pictures were filled with your smiles. A smile that once brought him so much joy now brings him pain and regret. He can’t look at your exquisite paintings because all he can think about is the happy look on your face when you made them.

When he entered Mari’s room, he stared at the intricate design of her room. The walls were painted with blue waves that crashed against each other along with an assortment of colorful fish to match. Beautiful seashells and conch shells hung from the ceiling. Mari’s bed sheets had cerulean and white stripes to match the eyes she got from her father as well as his favorite color. The carpet was seafoam green to match the sea aesthetic of the room.

“Your eyes have always reminded me of the sea. Since she has your eyes, she will be a child of the sea, so her room should match.” You said.

“How do you even come up with these conclusions.” Bruno said with a laugh.

Bruno blinked away the tears that resurfaced from his memories. “Daddy are you okay?” Mari asked. “I’m fine. Are you okay?” Bruno asked. “I miss Mommy.” Mari said. Her eyes started to water. Bruno held her close and rubbed her back.

“I miss Mommy too.” Bruno responded. Mari sniffled and wiped her eyes. She kicked her feet, a signal for Bruno to put her down. He obliged as he went to rummage through her drawers to find her comb and hair products. Once he found the items, he called Mari over. She crawled into his lap. Bruno attempted to comb through the mess of curls on Mari’s head, but the comb got caught in her hair multiple times. He yanked the comb in frustration which caused Mari to yelp in pain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you bambina.” Bruno apologized. He kissed the top of her head. Mari turned around to kiss Bruno’s cheek. “It’s okay. Mommy said to comb at the ends and-” “To comb section by section while applying conditioner and curl cream. I remember, thank you.” Bruno said. Mari wiggled in his lap as she nodded her head. Bruno laughed and kissed her forehead. She settled back into his lap to let him continue.

“Bruno, I told you to pay attention while I do her hair. You're gonna have to do it on days I leave earlier than you.” You scolded.

“I’m watching (Y/n), I’m watching (Y/n).” Bruno said. “No you’re not. You’re staring at my butt.” You responded. “Are those new shorts?” Bruno asked, with a smile plastered onto his face. “Bruno!” You yelled.

Bruno smiled at the memory. He pulled Mari into a hug. She squeezed his arms back. “I should’ve paid more attention when your mother did your hair. All I could do was put into a ponytail.” Bruno said. He motioned to grab the baby blue mirror on the dresser to show Mari her hair. She moved side to side to get a good look at herself. There wasn’t much of an expression on her face. Bruno gulped.

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Yes.” She responded. Her voice was laced with confusion. “I don’t have to lick your face to know you're lying.” Bruno said. His face formed into a pout. Mari giggled.

“Its not ugly. Its just not as pretty as mommy’s.” Mari said with a hint of sadness. Bruno patted her head and said, “I know, but thank you for trying to like it.” “I don’t have to try. I do like it. Good job Daddy.” Mari said. She gave him two thumbs ups. Bruno chuckled before he thanked her for her honesty.

“Before we get dressed, we have to eat so you don’t mess up your dress. What do you want to eat?” Bruno asked. Mari bounced as she gave her response. “I wanna eat plantains and eggs.” Fried plantains and eggs were your favorite breakfast dish. It was strange to him at first but it grew on him. Mari on the other hand, took an immediate liking to the meal. Bruno put his index finger and thumb to his chin while he looked at the ceiling.

“The eggs I can do. I might burn the plantains though.” Bruno said. “Daddy, the kinda burnt ones are the best ones.” Mari responded. Bruno looked at Mari surprised. His surprise was short lived as he broke into laughter.

Bruno picked up Mari to go downstairs. He was greeted by a silent kitchen. Mornings were never quiet with you. The silence was dreadful and lonely. The cold floor tiles were cruel to his feet. The white marble counters looked dull without your vibrant dishes splayed on them. Bruno stared at the counter for a moment to admire your colorful knife set. The ones you bought to make the kitchen look more lively.

Loud upbeat music played as Bruno made his way downstairs. There you were, engaged in a dance as you prepared breakfast. Bruno leaned on the wall to take in the sight. You swayed your hips to the beat of the song and gave an occasional butt wiggle. Bruno tiptoed around the kitchen in hopes you would not see him. He was as graceful as a ninja. Once he got behind you, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. You jumped, which made you let out a scream. You turned around in his grasp. You smacked his shoulder in a playful manner.

“You scared the life out of me Bruno.” You said with a smile. “What do you have to be scared of? Were the only ones here.” Bruno said with a chuckle.

Bruno sighed. He put Mari down so he could start his scavenge of the fridge. He put his hand to the side of his neck as he realized the fridge was empty. He looked to the counters, but all there were was leftover takeout boxes and one plantain. Bruno brought the fruit to his nose. He took a whiff and scrunched up his nose.

“This one’s been sitting on the counter for too long. Sorry Mari, I guess we’ll have to grab breakfast on the way. Your mother would scream if she saw the state of the kitchen right now.” Bruno said. Mari’s face became sullen. Her head sunk low while she twiddled her thumbs in her lap. Bruno frowned at her action.

“Its okay. I’m not very hungry anyway. We’re gonna eat later anyway.” Mari said. Bruno knew that if you were here, Mari would throw a fit that she could not have plantains and eggs for breakfast. She tried to be more behaved ever since you passed. Bruno sighed. He walked over to Mari so that he could grab her little hands.

“I’ll tell you what. We can pick up some plantains and eggs from the farmers market today. We can have them for dinner tonight.” Bruno said. “Okay.” Mari responded with a small smile.

Bruno picked up Mari to head back upstairs to her room. He opened her closet to pull out her small black dress. The dress was a simple short sleeve with little black frills at the bottom. Your sister picked it out for her. Bruno dressed Mari in little time.

“Stay here while I go get dressed.” Bruno said as he tapped her nose. “Make sure to comb your hair Daddy. Its been messy all morning.” Mari said. Bruno ran his fingers through his hair. It slipped his mind to fix it when he woke up. You probably would have reminded him. Bruno walked back to his room and closed the door behind him. Contrary to Mari’s room, you and his shared bedroom was rather simple. The walls were painted white, the bedsheets on the king sized bed were navy blue, and the carpet was a light beige. The only things that made the room standout were the paintbrushes that laid on the table and dressers and the curtains. The curtains were white with black spoon shaped polka dots. They were identical to his signature white suit.

Bruno opened the closet to take out his black suit. The suit was like his white one except the dots were white instead of black, the chest area was closed, and it lacked his golden zipper accessories. Bruno put on the suit in no time. He stood in the mirror to tie his tie but stopped. His eyes lacked their usual shine, darks circles and bags adorned his eyes. There were a few breakouts on his forehead and cheek. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Bruno grabbed his comb to run it through his hair. He sectioned off a large strand of hair to do his braid.

“Let me do your braid.” You asked. “Alright.” Bruno responded. He moved to sit on the bed. You stood between his legs and started to work in his hair. Bruno sighed as he let himself relax into your touch. He shifted closer to you to take in a deep whiff of your tropical scent.

Bruno finished up his braid. He took one last look in the mirror before he set out to leave. He glanced at the dresser and paused when he saw your tropical scented perfume. Bruno pondered for a moment. He contemplated on whether or not he should wear it. It was a scent he loved on you but thought it would be strange if he ever wore it. He shook his head and grabbed the bottle. Bruno sprayed the scented liquid onto himself three times before he exited his room.

“Mari, were leaving.” Bruno called out. Mari ran out from her room. She raised her hand towards Bruno to grab his hand. Bruno intertwined his fingers with hers. They put on their shoes and left for the church.

When Bruno and Mari arrived at the church, his gang was there. Your siblings were there as well. After you died, missed calls and unanswered text messages from them piled up in his phone. He declined any in person meetups with them. He couldn’t look them in the eyes or muster the courage to talk to them. The only one he talked to was (S/n), your sister. It was a one time conversation he had with her to ask her to pick out the funeral dress for Mari and to discuss the funeral details.

Everyone looked at him but said nothing. Their eyes were filled with sympathy. They all knew that anything they said would not lift Bruno’s spirits. As he went to take his seat with Mari, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see who it was. He was greeted by emerald green eyes and all to familiar golden hair.

“Giorno.” Bruno whispered. “May I speak to you?” Giorno asked. Bruno turned his head to Mari. She gave a small smile to Giorno. He smiled back at her with a small wave. “Buccellati, I’ll look after her.” Mista said. He popped up out of nowhere. Bruno almost did not recognize Mista without his hat. With his short brown hair out, Mista somehow looked more mature.

Bruno nodded at Mista. He made his way out of the church’s sanctuary with Giorno. Bruno admired the stained glass and red checkered flooring. The church was beautiful. It would always be beautiful to Bruno since this was the church where he married you. It was only appropriate that he had your funeral held here.

They stopped at the doors of the sanctuary to talk. “Buccellati, you look tired. When was the last time you slept properly?” Giorno asked. “The last time I slept properly, (Y/n) was in bed waiting for me.” Bruno responded. Giorno swallowed.

“I want you to know none of this was your fault. No one could have ever predicted the chauffeur would get into an accident.” Giorno said. Giorno looked Bruno in the eyes with intensity. His expression was soft but held a sense of dominance. It was like Giorno offered all his sympathies to Bruno but wanted to command his friend to care for himself. Bruno turned from Giorno’s gaze. His face was overcome with guilt.

“If I never suggested she take the chauffeur to her art show, she would still be here.” Bruno whispered.

You were not part of the gang. You were a civilian who made a successful art career for yourself. You and Bruno met when you two were thirteen. You were a girl left alone in this world to care for your three younger siblings. The owner of Libeccio, was a friend of your father’s who took you and your siblings in. Bruno met you there. At first you were a bother to him. He would answer in short sentences and one word phrases in an attempt not to be rude, but to let you know to back off. However, you were persistent. You bothered him constantly to try to talk. He wanted nothing to do with you since he was part of the mafia. However, one day Bruno yielded. He sat down and had a full conversation with you. The conversation was meant to be short, but Bruno found that he enjoyed his time with you. His talk with you allowed him to open up a little. It made him feel happy that someone sat down to really look at him. Someone truly wanted to know more about him without the urge to have something in return. He continued to talk to you at the restaurant, in your room, his house, and your secret hideout: a rooftop of an abandoned building. He knew the more time you spent with him could put you in danger, but he wanted to be selfish when it came to you. With you, he could be himself. With you, he had someone he could confide in. With you, he had a true friend that looked past his mafia ties to see the real him. With you, he fell in love. With you, he had a daughter. With you, came your death.

Your art show was about a month ago. The show was meant for you to promote some of your most recent pieces. You said you would be fine if you drove yourself, but Bruno insisted you take one of his chauffeurs. You took his offer. When the chauffeur arrived, you kissed his and Mari’s cheeks, excited to see them at your show. However, you never arrived at the show. Your car was hit by a drunk driver. You had a stand ability that could heal, but the crash caused you to fall unconscious. You were unable to heal yourself. Bruno did not find out about the accident until an hour after it happened. By that time, it was too late. The doctors could not save you. Giorno could not save. He could not save you.

Bruno clutched your hand as he stared into your lifeless face. He cried into your palm.

“Please, amore mio, don’t leave us. I can’t lose another person I love.” Bruno pleaded. You did not answer. You would never be able to answer him again.

Bruno turned to look at the sanctuary. The church staff had brought in your casket. Bruno gulped. “The ceremony will be starting soon.” Bruno said, in a voice no louder than whisper. Giorno said nothing as Bruno walked back to his seat next to Mari. Mista still sat with her. Mista gave Bruno a saddened face before he patted his shoulder and went back to his own seat.

The priest came out in his white robe to say his prayers. After the priest gave his piece, All of your siblings came up to give their sentiments. Bruno wished he could focus on what they had to say, but his eyes were glued to your casket. He did not get a good look at your face from his distance. In all honesty, he was scared to get a good look at you. He did not know how he would react if he got a second look at your dead body. Bruno’s was pulled out of his stupor when he saw it was his turn to speak about you. Bruno trudged up the stairs of the altar. He saw your face. It was peaceful, but you had a scar that ran diagonally on your right cheek. Bruno began to tremble. He bit his lip as he stared at your body. He slowly turned around to look at the guests. Your siblings and Marco, the owner of Libeccio, along with his son were sitting on the left side of the room. Narancia, Mista, Fugo, Abbacchio, Giorno, Mari and others who knew the two of you were on the right. Bruno gulped. He opened his mouth but found no words. How could he summarize his life with you? Where could he even begin to talk about how much you meant to him? Bruno used all his might to force some kind of words out.

“(Y/n), was the light of my life. She was my happiness, my joy, my everything. (Y/n) was my, uhm, my...ah.” Bruno stuttered. He could no longer form coherent sentences. He hung his head low so he would not cry. But he hung his head more so in shame that he could not say more about his beloved wife. Everyone poured their sympathies to Bruno with their eyes. They all understood that your death would hit Bruno the hardest. Unable to speak, Bruno slowly walked back to his seat. After some more words from other attendees, it was time for everyone to pay their respects to you. It broke Bruno when Mari started to cry and scream for her mother. It took everything Bruno had to not wail alongside her. He held Mari close to try and soothe her. He repeated to Mari over and over again everything would be okay. The repetition of the phrase was an attempt to try to convince himself that everything would be okay.

Everyone left the church to move to the burial site. Not many words were shared at the burial site. Everyone said what they had to share in the church. Bruno watched as men put your casket into the ground. Mari squeezed his hand as tight as she could as she continued to cry. Bruno held her hand with just as much force. Every small pile of dirt that landed on your casket tugged at Bruno’s heart strings. Soon the whole was filled. You were truly no longer of this world. People tried to give Bruno and Mari words of encouragement as they left, but Bruno drowned their words out. Marco came up to Bruno. He put his hand on his shoulder before he spoke.

“She really loved you Buccellati. Keep smiling for her and Mari. She needs you more than anyone right now. Also talk to them.” Marco said, as he pointed his thumb to your siblings. “(S/n) and the others don't blame you for their sister’s death. They're your family too. So am I.” Marco said. Bruno looked at Marco’s face ready to cry. Although his black hair was greyed and his brown eyes were adorned with crows feet, Marco still looked young for a fifty-five year old man. Marco became a second father to Bruno after he started his relationship with you. Marco was protective of you when it came to boys but never with Bruno. Marco trusted him. Bruno knew he would always have a special place in Marco’s heart and vice versa. Marco gave Bruno a strong squeeze and a smile. He let go of Bruno and ruffled Mari’s hair before he took his leave. All of his team members knew not to say anything to him. They knew he needed this time alone with his daughter. Everyone left one by one until him and Mari were the only ones at your grave. The two of them stood in silence as they stared at your tombstone. The silence was broken as Mari began to sing.

“Is is strange for me to say that If I were to die today There's not a thing I would change I've lived well Maybe I have made mistakes and been through my fair share of pain But all in all, it's been okay, I've lived well And the more that I see, the more that I know I don't know anything, at all Like the more that I breath, and start to go slow Oh, one of many things, I can only recall” Mari sang.

Bruno began to shake as Mari sang her song. It was the song you wrote and always sang around the house. It was the song you sang or hummed to him almost every morning. Bruno could no longer keep up his mental damn. He let his tears fall, but he smiled through them. He looked at Mari as she smiled back at him. They sang unison, “All of the good things, good things All of the good things, good things Only the good, the good, the good Only the good, the good, the good”

[brokenjardaantech]

absorbance of the deep (chapter 1: first contact)

written for a mermay prompts challenge. my prompt is ‘monochromatic.’

rated: M

relationships: simarkus, simon & josh & north, simon & daniel as twins

summary: 

simon was the quiet son of a lighthouse keeper in a small seaside village. his other half was the sea. no one knew exactly what was happening, but he had his friends, he had his twin brother, he had the ocean - and to him, that was enough.

also on ao3

---

It started long before Simon was aware of his connection with the sea.

Back then, he was still loved by his parents. Back then, he was still blissfully unaware of how different he was from other people. 

Back then, someone still cared when he went missing.

He of course had no recollection of the incident himself, being a baby when it happened, and all he knew came from his twin brother’s retelling of the event which he had learnt from their parents who decided that Simon’s lack of speech meant that he didn’t understand words at all even though he spent most of his time at home doing his own work or reading books reserved for people older than him. ‘Hag put us on the goddamned floor,’ Simon remembered the quiet fury of his twin brother as he paced in their shared bedroom. ‘God knows why she would do that. You could barely crawl, and either she forgot to fucking close the door or you somehow managed to open the fucking thing on your own, the next thing she saw after finally finishing cooking lunch was that there was only me, the door to the pier was open, and you were gone. They thought you were gone for good.’

Simon remembered turning his gaze towards the small stack of paper he was holding and rubbing the corner of. It was a copy of the newspaper article from the day he was found on the beach completely soaked in saltwater but very alive, one that took over most of the pages of the large sheet of inked newsprint they call the local newspaper found in the library and therefore required a few sheets of normal paper to photocopy the entire thing double-sided. Little Simon rescued from the beach! was printed at the very top below the name of the newspaper, and the article documented not only the facts - despite the sensationalised title - but also included a lot of interviews of the search and rescue team which seemed to care a lot about his survival and whereabouts, most of which Daniel and North firmly believed to be no more than a show. Simon believed them because he was never a good judge of people’s intentions. 

‘Half of the town thought you were really dead, the other half kept searching just for you to be washed up the beach in the middle of the fucking night and being discovered only the morning after,’ Daniel continued talking and pacing, and Simon had to look away because the movement was making him dizzy. ‘The rest you can find in the article. I’m not gonna waste my time reading aloud.’

Simon grabbed the worn dictionary, flipping to the pages with the words he wanted to convey and pointing his finger at them. but - how - about - dad - and - mum?

‘No fucking idea. Dad said Mum was hysterical.’

The rest Simon forgot because he was tired and he hadn’t been paying attention, and he supposed that it didn’t matter anyway because they stopped caring when he grew up from the easy, quiet baby to the too-quiet toddler who wouldn’t play with other children and scratched his own arms when things became too much. At first, the other children he went to school with left him alone with his sticks and stones which he assembled into shapes resembling the marine animals he remembered from the worn picture books in the kindergarten’s library. He didn’t necessarily understand the words, but the pictures were soft, the fishies were cute, the soft edge of the cardboard felt good in his hands, and they reminded him of a home he yearned for but never had, his obsession with the ocean starting when he was young. It was during these quiet times that another boy of his age approached him. 

‘What are you doing?’ the other boy asked. He was dragging a bag filled with books behind him.

Simon flipped his own book open until he found the page of the octopus he was trying to recreate with his collection of seashells that he found on the beach and a few sticks he found on the dirt in the garden behind the kindergarten, pointing first at the specific octopus he was assembling (there were five of them, he counted), then at the imitation on the ground. He hoped the other boy understood what he meant. He wouldn’t want him to scream in his ear and make them hurt just like the others. For some reason, they thought it would help him hear them better while in fact it was doing the exact opposite. He could hear them well enough; he just didn’t want to speak.

‘Are you building the octopus?’

Simon nodded.

‘May I watch you?’

Another nod, and the two of them sat on the same piece of log as Simon bent down once more to rummage in his collection of pebbles and seashells to complete his octopus, this time with an audience consisting of one single boy already a bit taller than himself. Halfway through the recreation, his companion retrieved a book, one with the same thickness but thinner pages and much more words, but Simon, engrossed in his project, didn’t seem to notice at all, having been sucked into his own world and become completely oblivious to his surroundings, and he only straightened himself as much as his uncooperative limbs could after the octopus was complete. Josh noticed it and put down his book just to be swatted by Simon’s flailing hand that felt like, ‘Look at my work.’

And to two boys, it was a work of art. With dirt as his canvas and random pebbles and sticks and leaves and seashells as his palette, Simon somehow manages to fit them together into a puzzle more detailed than the drawing he based it on, the different colours of nature somehow managing to form a harmonious combination of browns and whites and oranges and green. ‘It’s pretty,’ Josh commented. ‘I like it.’

Simon’s face blushed pink. Tilting his head to one side, he seemed to study his artwork intently for a few seconds before struggling with the zippers of his backpack as if he wanted to open them, and when it was evident that he wouldn’t be able to accomplish the task himself, Josh offered to help him, and he unzipped it quickly just for Simon to snatch the bag back and scoop every single piece of nature he used to construct the octopus with inside. 

‘What are you doing?’ Josh was shocked, but still he zipped up the bag because he didn’t want the contents to spill out. He would be sad if one of the seashells got lost.

Simon hopped off the log he was sitting on and dragged the backpack behind him instead of putting it on. A few steps towards the other side of the park, and then he turned around, beckoned the other boy to follow him with a wave of his hand, his blue eyes still glued onto the ground.

‘Where are you going?’

Simon pointed towards a familiar direction.

‘You’re going to the beach?’

A nod.

‘Okay. Let me pack up.’

By ‘pack up,’ he meant carefully placing his book in his bag, and soon the two boys were dragging their respective bags behind them on the road as they walked to the beach on foot unsupervised by any adults. The sky was a greyish white, the wind was strong from the upcoming rain, the sound of the sea lapping the shore was particularly loud from the silence of the village and the strength of the waves, but all the signs indicating a worsening weather were ignored, Simon determined to go to the beach and Josh too curious to back down from accompanying his potential new friend. Walking was easier when the ground underneath their feet finally changed from asphalt to soft sand, and their tiny footsteps were erased by twin tracks their bags left behind. Simon sat down abruptly just before they reached the line where dry sand gave away to wet.

‘What are you doing?’ Josh asked even though he was already sitting down.

Simon merely pushed his backpack towards the other boy. It took him a few seconds to interpret the action, but Josh got it quickly enough and unzipped the back for him. Simon then poured the contents onto the dry sand, casually shoving the bag to one side and then started reconstructing the octopus once more, and Josh was confused; if the boy wanted to make it on the beach, why didn’t he do it here directly? Why practise in the park first? But he also knew that he probably wouldn’t get an answer from the other boy so he watched the octopus materialise piece by piece instead.

Until he noticed something strange about the ocean.

See, even though they were literal children, they grew up with the sea in their view at all times, and they knew its personality and temper well. When to avoid the shore, when to avoid going out altogether, when to prepare for the worst - they learnt to watch for the subtle signs and act accordingly. But nothing, not from parents, not from school teachers, not even from teenage babysitters, could have prepared Josh for the sight of the sea lapping higher and higher around them while the sand within their ten-foot radius stayed dry as if there was an invisible dome surrounding the two of them. He turned inland and saw the tide converging in front of him, the space around his bookbag staying dry on its own, and he sought out the other boy because he was horrified, he didn’t understand. The wind was picking up. If they didn’t go now, the sea would swallow them.

‘We have to go!’ he says. ‘I don’t know what’s happening, but if we don’t, we’ll die!’

Simon continued to piece the octopus together on still-dry sand while being completely oblivious to his worsening surroundings. He didn’t seem to hear Josh at all.

‘C’mon!’ Josh tugged on Simon’s arm and received an impatient smack. ‘We need to go!’

Do not disturb him, human. Leave the devout alone.

The voice, deep and all-compassing and earth-rumbling, was as shapeless as the shrinking dry circle around them, and Josh didn’t understand, wasn’t sure if he wanted to understand. All he wanted to do now was run, but his way back was already blocked, the tide having crept up to them while the boy was trying to convince his companion to go with him, and now it was so far up that it would be impossible to escape unless he threaded through ankle-deep water. His books would be ruined.

I can provide a safe path out. But do not look back, human, or accept the consequences.

Those would’ve been big words for normal children, but Josh wasn’t normal, having read through the entire kindergarten’s library and had started inhaling the books in the small public library they had, and words were at least something he understood well; one moment he was surrounded by dark waters, and the other there was a path directing him to his bag of books and up the beach to the road, to safety, and he didn’t hesitate to run towards his bag and dragged it up the beach until he was running up the hill, the sound little feet hitting asphalt overwhelmed by the howling wind and raging sea. He spared a look back and discovered that his companion was gone, most of the beach having been swallowed by the rapidly-rising sea level.

He abandoned his new friend and he didn’t even know his name.

Horrified by his own actions, tears rolled down his cheeks as he slowed down his normal walking speed and went back to the kindergarten on foot where his teachers were waiting at the door. ‘Josh!’ one of them rushed forward and wrapped his arms around him. ‘Where were you?’

‘At - at the beach,’ he sobbed. ‘There - there was this boy with me and he’s gone!’

‘Another boy?’ a crackle of thunder, and their conversation was interrupted by a crackle of thunder. They hadn’t even noticed the streak of lightning tearing through the clouds because it was still bright, the clouds were not heavy enough to form anything other than a light rain, but it wasn’t like they cared about the inconsistencies between this rainfall and what they normally experienced anymore; all that mattered right now was that the weather was worsening, there was a child missing, and said child’s twin brother was currently -

‘WHERE IS SIMON?’ Daniel came blundering through before any teachers could grab him and clamped his tiny hands on Josh’s shoulders. ‘I’m asking you: where is Simon?’

Simon? Was it the boy’s name? Josh couldn’t think clearly. He left Simon to die. He was sorry. 

‘He was at the beach,’ he didn’t know why he wasn’t screaming like the others, but as the first bucket of rain poured down the sky, he could imagine the waves sweeping Simon away, dragging him into the deep alongside the octopus he spent so much effort creating, all evidence of his existence gone, gone, gone -

‘The sea took him.’

o0o0o

In reality, young Simon was doing much better than he thought; in fact, the place he ended up with was so good that he didn’t even want to go back on land, let alone with the civilisation living on it at large, the experience edged into his mind so vividly that he can revisit it whenever he wants to even in adulthood as long as he closed his eyes. With Josh gone, he and the ocean could finally be alone with each other, and he let the waves cover him, an invisible barrier protecting him from the cold water and preserving enough air to keep him alive. He blinked, tilted his head to one side while the wave on top of his creation seemed to hesitate to touch it, holding his breath as the ocean judged him. 

Don’t worry. Everything you made that doesn’t hurt us, I like.

He didn’t know what it meant back then, his mind too young to comprehend a promise as solemn as that, and neither did he know who ‘I’ was and whom ‘us’ was referring to, but looking back, it was part sincere reassurance and part lifelong vow despite, and now that he knows everything, he was glad that his love started early; it made growing up less lonely and terrifying; and despite his lack of understanding, he was immediately soothed, and he felt himself relax on the pocket of dry sand, clutching his open backpack and caressing the fabric because he thought it felt pleasant to his fingers. 

I’ll give you something even better.

At last, his octopus was swept away by the waves, his offering accepted by the other half of himself that he didn’t even know existed back then, and there was no fear in his heart when the ocean enveloped him, surrounded him, carried him to the depths where everything was blue because no other colour could reach that deep. He found himself liking the colour; it wasn’t complicated like the kaleidoscope of life on land, it didn’t send needles into his eyes like the sharp reds and oranges the fishermen used to paint their boats so that they could be visible when they were out at sea, it wasn’t complicated like the subtle blue of the sky when it wasn’t covered by the clouds. This was raw, simple, the only wavelength that the ocean allowed to reach him among all others, so it must be the colour of protection as well.

He didn’t know all of these, back then, but these are some of the conclusions Simon arrived at after years of sharing his life with the ocean. What he did know was that the deep blue was a pleasant colour, one that calmed him down so much that he wanted to go to sleep right there on the soft sand of the seabed.

Sleep well, starlight.

Unbeknownst to him, his other half was still wide awake protecting his land-dwelling counterpart. The current changed to maintain the temperature of the tiny body at the bottom of the sea, the sea animals were instructed to stay off course so as to not disturb his slumber, and the earth also slowed down in case the pressure would become too much and frighten the fragile heart of a human child. It also got to work, finishing millions of years worth of progress in mere hours to create a safe haven for Simon, and he was carried there so gently that not once did he stir while he rode the waves without him knowing, and when he woke up, he was lying on a bed of soft but dry moss located in a cave of stone walls and soft sand. His parents and his twin weren’t there to urge him to wake up so he basked in the warmth that seemed to radiate from the pale sand as he listened to the sound of running water nearby. He would discover upon his second visit to the cave that it was the murmurs of an underwater stream feeding a hot spring near the end of the cave. 

Time to get back, starlight.

He wasn’t in the position to judge or protest so he let the sea carry him back to his home on the surface. He couldn’t quite swim in the ocean yet and had a tendency to walk back into the water no matter how much inland the waves placed him; eventually they settled on putting him back on the pier outside his parents’ house/lighthouse, and although it was too close to the surface civilisation for their liking, it at least kept young Simon out of the water at last because he remembered jumping off the pier on his own and then landing into the water with his stomach first and the pain wasn’t something he would want to repeat. It was dark still when he was sent back to the surface and he didn’t want to be away from the sea yet, so with his tiny feet dangling off the side of the pier, he lay on the wood for hours watching the stars twinkle in sync with the dark waters kissing the beach glowing silvery in the moonlight, and then having to close his eyes as the sun painted the horizon a fiery orange and the clouds a deep purple. The sea stayed the same, however, the greyish-blue waves too choppy to glisten under the sunlight. The wind picked up as the land absorbed the energy from the sun and started heating the air, and that was how his parents found him: unconscious at the edge of the pier behind their house, a soft breeze smelling of the ocean feeding the fire burning what remained of his mind away.

[kaetastic]

VACATION

pairing: Bucky Barnes X Rogers!Reader

summary: Steve Rogers finally decided to take time off, away from his nonstop phone calls and endless meetings that made him pull his hair out. Only this time, he brought his daughter to the lovely holiday. And oh, his best friend tagged too.

word count: 4.5k yeeee

warnings: starter angst, no complete smut, dirty talking

notes: i have so much on my plate lol, my study routine is at least 2 hours a day and although my sleep schedule is not falling out- i demand for more. I AM SOOO SORRY for not posting that much, writers block has seriously done me badly and it hurts.

The flight felt like forever, in the middle of the air with the aeroplane wheezing; passengers asleep, eyes shut tight even though the transportation bounced up and down- hitting faint turbulence that was somehow not noted towards the flyers. Y/N crossed her legs, her arms on the foam-filled armrest of her first-class chair; a luxury she was born with. The spacious pod felt free, not suffocating at all as she could breathe with no one beside her. Although she was free from forced conversations, this could only mean one thing she didn’t like: uncontrollable thoughts that can sometimes lead to unpredictable imaginations. Her fingers drummed a gentle beat like pressing softly onto the keys of a piano, she rested her head onto the glass to admire the dark night, stars painted with glittering highlights.

She caressed the double-framed window, the frigid air from the outside glossed her fingertips. Her fingers ran over the twinkling stars, a frown playing on her lips at the sudden remembrance of her mother’s writing. The story she wrote ever since she met her father. It will never find a conclusion. I wish to hold you, my love, I want to stay with you until you grow old and I shall cripple with age; but my dear, even though you aren’t here, outside with me- I love you. I wish to sing you a different lullaby every night. You will always be my little girl, now I understand why my mother used to stick by me. Dear my love, your father and I are ecstatic waiting for you, although he isn’t patient- every time you would kick me (which really hurts), he would rush in to feel it. Before we even knew of your gender, we had already planned the whole room for you. I don’t know what it was, but I went with a space theme; stars stuck to every inch of the walls and ceilings. Even your crib mobile had the moon and planets; I didn’t force it onto you did I? I’m sorry my love

And the dotted lines that drifted out of the boundary of the paper ended. Its black ink smudged the words that existed above it. That was it. No other words added onto her melancholy part of the story, if it shall be continued- it will never be the same. Whenever she was curious child, she would read the writing on and on; it was like a guide book to her. A tourist pamphlet from her cherished mother. And although she never got the chance to speak to her or be able to brag about the amazingness of her mother, the book was the connection she could faintly have. The bond between her words and Y/N’s heartbeat will always be in sync. The slight clench it gave her will never be the same if someone else was to proceed with the beautiful art her mother had created and crafted with her emotions. That was the ending.

Every time a stewardess or a steward would walk down the aisle, she would just wear a faint smile and a shake of her head when they would ask if she needed their assistance. They would reply with the same gesture before fading away. A sigh escaped her lips. With a bang of her head, it landed on the inflexible seat.

“Psst,” A voice called her, she snapped back; her head whipping up and down the aisle- everyone seemed to be asleep. The only light illuminating was from the galley and those massive screens which shone brightly onto the asleep figures. Clearly too bothered to switch it off. She was not surprised when her eyes landed on Bucky. He looked so freshly awake, not a tint of tire in him. He gestured his hand for her to come to him, she glimpsed at her father who sat on the opposite seat of her aisle, his mouth wide open as faint snores rang out. His nose scrunched. “Come here,” Bucky mouthed, pointing to his seat as an invitation.

Y/N bit her bottom lip in contemplation, she glanced at her father one more time before unbuckling her seatbelt. The click of the metal clashed with the muffled seat, she winced in her head at the volume. She stood up, holding her armrest as a stabilizer, making sure no one was walking down the aisle. Strutting to the designated place, Bucky poked out of his seat; his eyes trained on her as she puts on a show for him. A chuckle left her lips. She plotted onto his lap, legs hanging off the seat and swinging into the aisle. He huffed at the abrupt place of weight on him, a slight wince fell off his lips. She threw her head back, slapping his chest at the exaggerated reaction. 

His arms snaked around her waist, tugging her closer, her hands flat open to rest on his shoulders, “You look so hot in this.” His fingers slyly brushed against her skin, it was freezing like ice. She yelped. Although she created an audible noise, she was quick to realize her mistake. Covering her mouth with a slap of her hand, her eyes widened while Bucky laughed, amused at her expression.

“It’s just a simple shirt.” She reasoned once she had scanned the seats to check if there were any awake witnesses, his laughter died. 

Eyes scanning the clothing, Bucky hummed, yes- it really was. The white shirt had a simple image printed onto it; an eyebrow quirked up, not agreeing with her opinion, “Well, you definitely look fuckable in it.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, unable to understand his insatiable horniness that can never be satisfied, “I guess I have to say thank you now.” He hummed, nodding curtly as his fingers played with the hem of the shirt, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. 

Bucky pushed himself back to relax on his seat; his eyes shot up to gaze at her. He leaned in, his mouth hovering over her ears as it occasionally brushes with little contact. Slight frustration roared in her. Eyes fluttered to a shut, she enjoys the warmth that swirled her to thoughts she shouldn’t be having, “You’ll have to be quiet baby,”

The confusion that strikes her sipped away as his hand rested on her clothed sex, his frustratingly slow gestures pressed onto the now wet panties. Her mouth fell open as his fingers traced her inner thighs with languid movements, he nudged a leg to open her legs wide for him. Toes curling whenever his fingers would accidentally brush against her, she grabbed onto his arms as intermittent breathing echoed out of her lips. As soon as his fingers slipped into her pants, his fingers rested above her cunt. A tired groan was heard- too familiar. And with a splat, Y/N met the floor with agony pain rippling through her body, “I’m so sorry babe, I-“ Although he didn’t know the father continued his snooze, Bucky whispered-shouted an apology to the person he just threw off his lap and onto the dirty floor.

Y/N glimpsed at him with anger before scoffing, ignoring the hand he let out for her to grab ahold of. Dusting her knees, she straightened her outfit before stomping away- back to her seat with pursed lips as she held her head high. Bucky could only peek with squinted eyes, holding a sigh of relief when he saw his passed out best friend; the anxiety that crawled in him for what he will get in return later on as karma- did not feel good.

“Finally, I can feel my legs,” Steve grumbled, head thrown back as he groaned out the complaint. The shades he wore tilted back, he narrowed his eyes. The burning and beaming source of the rays burning the whole planet like a flaming furnace.

Y/N exited the car, a duffle bag on her shoulders as her eyes scanned the area she assumed she would be staying in for a few days. The platform above the clear crystal water, that seemed as if it were millions of glittery gems, creaked and cried as every pressure cracked its bones. Petit kids ran around with little care in their heads, a large hat on their heads as a thick layer of sunscreen seemed to be slapped onto their skin. The manager of the area scurried in a hurried manner; the floors yelled. A clipboard in his hands- a string with one end wrapped around a minuscule seashell created the loudest of the noise whenever it would bang into the metal. It would vibrate over the cackling of the seagulls and the gnashing of the ocean waves. The saltiness was obnoxious, at least it was better than staying on a ship that would rock in the water. The puking challenge would’ve last for a second, “Please follow me.”

So they did so, her eyes wouldn’t rest on one area- its relentless movements filled her with fascination at the gobsmacking view of the see-through water. Y/N’s lips fell into an ‘o’. She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the position of the backpack to rest comfortably; but it just keeps digging and stabbing her shoulder with no mercy. She huffed. 

“Let me help you.” Her shoulders lifted up, feeling it light as a force tugged her bag away. She snapped her head to face the voice who offered her help, he already had his arm looped inside the sling. 

“You don’t have to.” She reasoned, tugging the bag in an attempt to carry it by herself. Halting, Bucky quirked his eyebrows up, the sunglasses he wore shading the icy blue eyes she could get lost in very easily. Giving up easily, she removed the weight off of her with slight reluctant, she pushed the strap to move to his. 

Houses connected its front entrance door to the platform, a small bridge that had been secured by fences that ran along the side for safety. Standing on top of each fence in front of every house was a sign. The wood was supposed to inform those as it displayed the house number. Y/N’s legs ached in agony, although they slept well in a flight like tired babies- it had caused them to throb with pain as soon as they stood up to walk. Even if it was a first-class seat with a supposedly large area for leg movements, the aeroplane still constricted area to go. And all she could remember was anytime a ding rung out, her father would wake up with his eyes shot open- his feet were quick to move, he ran up and down the aisle without uttering a word before plopping back onto his seat.

Finally, they stood in front of their holiday house. They took quick notice of the location, the furthest from the rest. Steve pushed his glasses down, to remove the layer of darkness that glossed over the stunning house that they will be calling home for a few weeks. Bucky hummed as had wore a faint smile, approving at the great choice by his best friend. 

Figures of those who were guiding her disappeared. Pulling away from the cursive view, a frown played on her lips, not comfortable by being alone in an area she didn’t know anything about. Before she entered the house, her hand rested on the doorknob, eyes scanning the sign that laid above the door- 39. Her head tilted to the side, a hum muffling in her mouth. But the idea of exploring the house attracted her more. So she did so. 

Y/N let out a loud huff as she stretched her arms, her back was stabbing her like thousand of needles. The interest in adventuring her room called her even if she just wanted to spring open like a starfish onto the bed. In the corner of the room was a simple desk with a wide mirror- all of its drawers empty. The walls held few framed photos of art she wouldn’t be able to understand- swirls of lines and colourful parallel shapes. Pacing towards her toilet, she pushed the door open. With a creak, the door welcomed her to the next room. A sigh of relief fell off her lips at the realization of the layout, she didn’t even know she was holding it in. She desperately craved for a bath.

That’s how she ended up in the tub, head rested on the sides as she enjoys the eerie swirls of the water. Even with the slightest of movements, echoing of the liquid could be heard throughout the room. It was so silent, quiet and tranquil. Every so often the growing sadness prodded her thoughts, but all she could do was hum a random lyrics with words presented on her head in an attempt to overtake the thoughts. It didn’t work.

“What a sight,” Eyes shot open with trembling shock, her head whipped to the voice that rung from the door. The thumping of her heart calmed as she gently pats it. Although peacefulness eluded from the room, she somehow did not hear the door opening. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. But before she had the chance to utter out the question full of doubts; Bucky beat her to it. “You left the door open, doll.” She wasn’t so surprised, he’d done this so many times- taking any chance he would get.

Pushing the crying door, he swung it- opening and closing it, playing with it (clearly not a toy) like a little child before halting to a stop as the words he always imagined her to say fall off her lips like strings of melody, “Care to join?” And oh boy, he did not miss a second as soon as the beat started; his fingers agile and rapid, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging down his pants. Turning his body to face the tub, his ready posture caused her to quirk her eyebrows at the open ajar door. His lips fell into a rounded ‘o’ at the realization.

With a click, he waddled back before curling his fingers at the side of his boxers; fiddling with it as his eyes rested on her face, watching her as he teased her. And boy did it work. Her eyes didn’t move anywhere else, a shameless act she wasn’t even ashamed of. Y/N’s mouth dried. The semi-hard shaft now hardening, it flicks as it was freed from the suffocation.

“Come on babe, make space for me,” He teased, a proud smirk playing on his lips as he watched her squeeze herself to the front of the bathtub- knees bent to rest on her chest. His eyes ran around her exposed skin before jumping in to join her routine. Hands resting on her hips, he pushed her up so she was hovering over the bed of the bath. Although there was a lot of space for one, to squeeze in two-person was a tight compromisation. A sigh left his lips at the warm water engulfing his body, the feeling of himself sink into her; the tender tight hug of her around him cause him to rest his head back. It hangs over the edge as the bathtub laid a few metres away from the walls. Y/N’s fingers curled around the tub, eyes shut tight as she felt his shaft throb; it poked her cervix. Thoughts ran around his head aimlessly, uncontrollable ideas zapping out of nowhere.

Soft caress rubbed against her shivering back. His calloused fingers prodded her sensitive skin. Although the water was warm, the temperature seemed to be out of balance. Cold air, warm water and the heat pressuring in her created a turmoil. The thought of having him run his fingers around with no pathway only made Y/N excited. Her eyes shut tight at the enjoyment. A low groan echoed from Bucky’s lips. His hands tightened its grip on her skin as she wiggled around, the soft splashing of water that created a loud noise, “Oh- fuck...”

His toes curled. The position she was taking him felt surreal, he was prodding places that felt like heaven. Eyes rested on her back with his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck; stabilizing her as she bounces up and down. Chorus of moans and grunts filled the room with water overflowing out of the container. The two bodies froze. A knock from the door stopped them. 

“Y/N? You okay in there?” Bucky’s hand halted, hovering above her cunt as the voice of his best friend echoed through the crevices of the door. If it wasn’t for Y/N’s reminded to lock the door, god knows what would happen to both of them. She would never want to see that day. 

She realized the lingering moment of silence that her father might’ve found suspicious. Her thoughts jumped from one idea to another, maybe he might be nosy and try to find out? Albeit a mess, her head still managed to squeeze out words, “O-oh! Yes! I’m fine, everything’s okay Dad! I’m peachy!” The assurance fell off her lips quicker than she wanted it to be, her eyes shut tight at the stupid mistake that seemed frantic and panicked.

“Sure? I heard a groan.” The muffled voice of her father seemed to be blurring away as a tender touch pressed onto her clit. Her eyes widened, head snapping down to face the hand that could not be controlled. Even at times like these, the insatiable man could not wait even for a second. Bucky smirked as she whipped her head back to face him, his fingers only brushing over her needy lips languidly and teasingly.

“Yes, I’m sure! It’s nothing really.” The grip she had on the walls of the tub tightened; she tried her best to not grind on his finger, she needed her father to go away first. The teasing fingers of Bucky caressed around the area she desperately needed him at. Although he wished he could carry on to play with her, edging her- he would love to see her try to muffle her moans. He wore a smirk, he tugged his cock out- the erected shaft stood out, poking out of the water as it slanted onto her cunt. He plunged a finger into her. Thanks to the water as lubrication, he had no problem to sink his digits into her with smooth flow. A ragged moan left her lips, her eyes shut tight at the tightness around the digit.

”Are you sure, honey?” Bucky rolled his eyes, tired of hearing his best friend cockblocking him. The frustration exerted force... somewhere else. Irritated, he pumped his fingers in a relentless pace; unbothered by the splashing of water that weighed him down. Her back arched, if only her father wasn’t in front of the door- she could have been undone by now. Knowing how she would react, he wrapped his other hand around her chest, he pulled her back so she would lay flat on his. A breathy sigh left his lips, he could only take a glimpse at his work. In figures of eight, he motioned onto her clit, he grunted as her nails dug into his arm.

“Yes, dad! I am very sure!” Her tone being too angry and furious was laced with frustration. The need of him to stay far away as possible dug into her head.

“Oh, alright, if you need me,” His words seemed to be stretched out, the strings of mumbling sentences bashed against the shield that covered her ears. Her toes curled as Bucky’s fingers rubbed the spot. It’s as if he knew her body as if he studied the areas that make her writhe with the slight touch of his hand. “I’ll be outside.” The soft pacing off footsteps outside the door was relieving.

“Is that all you got?” He raised his eyebrows at the competitive question. Oh, he was about to prove her wrong.

She pulled the doors of the fridge with slight force, the strong attraction between the door and its body seemed stronger than the bonds that brought her life together. She paced back at the abrupt consequence. Shadows of darkness lined the floors and every crevice. The only light illuminating rayed brightly from the opened fridge and the small lamp that sat in the corner of the counter. It watched her as she scanned the levels with hope twinkling in her eyes. But all of it diminished. She pulled away when she couldn’t find the glass of cold water. Nudging the door, she sighs as it emitted a loud splat as soon as it meets the door.

“Looking for somethin’?” Her body jumped at the voice who poked her ears with surprise, her heart thumped harshly. Eyes widened, she rested her hand on her dancing heart, in an attempt to calm it. The brown hair swiped to one side, his arms crossed and his head quirked to the left.

“Jesus Buck! You scared the hell out of me!” He chuckled at her whisper-shout.

“Sorry doll, come here.” With open arms, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the almost friendly gesture. Reluctantly, she paced towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist; she laid her head on his soothingly beating heart that was muffled by his skin. She inhaled the enticing scent of him, the cologne he uses still somehow laced into him. The soft fabric of his pyjamas rubbed her cheeks with gentle caresses.

And all the enjoyment died within less than a minute. Although she wished the moment to be pure and innocent, Bucky Barnes does not come with those two assets with clean intention. The throb that slapped her thighs caused her to let out a heavy sigh. Pulling away, she craned her head to glance at the guilty man. It was slightly amusing, to see him with closed eyes and pursed lips in an attempt to hide his expression away.

“You horny man.” Y/N chuckled, slapping his chest lightly. He bit his bottom lips, trying his hardest to prod his thoughts with clean ones; none of imagining her on her knees. It didn’t work. He let out a sigh at the failure.

“I’m sorry okay? It’s hard to not imagine you on your knees.” She rolled her eyes at his horrible excuse.

“This whole holiday will be just us fucking around? What is it? A sex holiday?” Her eyebrows furrowed at the idea. Bucky raised his eyebrows, focused onto the new topic. Somehow, he was interested. “Oh, you.”

Her hand halted in mid-air, hovering above his chest that was ready to beat it. The fingers that wrapped around her wrist stopped her movements. With a smirk, he mumbled, “Who said it isn’t?”

She didn’t understand how she got herself in that position. With her lips moulding into his, loud smacking of lips echoed throughout the open kitchen. There was an attempt to lower the volume. A hand in his pants, rubbing his erected shaft that poked his sleeping boxers; she muffled his groans. Pumping his cock, she noted that one hand wasn’t enough to wrap around his whole dick. The room now filled with pitchy moans as Bucky’s hand slithered into her shirt, fiddling with her erected nipples that were not protected by a bra. He didn’t mind, her with a bra or no bra on; he liked both. The other hand that wrapped around his neck tightened, her chest rubbing into his. Running his hand down, he rested it in her pants, grabbing a handful of her ass cheeks.

Although she was concentrated on satisfying his needs, she couldn’t help but pull away in occasional times. The vein that popped out of his cock laced her fingers. While she was pumping him, he laid back and watched her with lustful eyes. Whenever his fingers would accidentally brush over her slicked cunt, which dripped like a waterfall- she would pull away with her mouth open, breathless moans rining out of her luscious lips. His eyes laid on the cleavage that was displayed to him, her breast resting on his chest. A groan left his lips, he couldn’t help it, it was too much. He couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to, but why would he? The professional hand around his cock pumped him with passion and all he could do was watch her moan, tits just exposed for him?

Tugging her shirt up, the hem now rested above her breasts. Drool practically ran down his lips as he stared at it with need. As soon as the breezy air that ran out from the open window, the salty scent flowing in drummed on her chest- she let out a breathy moan once again. It rubbed on his chest. Flattening on him. She brushed the slit of his cock, the groans that rung out of his lips were music to her.

All actions were halted as soft dragging of legs on the wooden floorboard muffled into their ears. They pulled away, frozen with eyes widened. Y/N straightened her clothes, pulling down her shirt to cover her bare chest. Bucky cleared his throat in silence as he crossed his arms to look sophisticated. There was no one else in the house with them other than her father. The close proximity that was between them now increased with great number. A faint buzzing of light hummed, the dim light from the hallway shining a small area of the corridor.

“Oh, Bucky, Y/N. You both awake too?” Steve narrowed his eyes from the bright light, groaning at the sudden stabbing of the rays. The shadowed figure of her father stood at the open arch. Yellow rays beamed from his back.

“Same reason as you, Dad.” Bucky hummed, not knowing what to say so he followed his only resort that came to mind (clearly screaming in his head when he tried to play calm outside)- agreeing with her.

“Really? You had a horrible dream of a dragon trying to swallow you whole and you stumbled upon a great wizard who had a long beard?” She stood there confused, lips parted as she tried to think of an answer. Sadly, all she could say was ‘uhuh’. Bucky palmed his face, trying his hardest not to cringe at her chosen answer. “Oh, what a small world? I guess,”

They both leaned on the counter as their eyes rested on his figure, Steve opened the fridge with force once again. Bending down, he scanned for his desired item. He pouted when it wasn’t there. The splat of the attraction between the fridge and its door echoed through the kitchen. “I’ll get going, you two should go back to bed- we have places to be later on,” They nodded, agreeing with slight vigorous movements- a bit too positive with his statement. “Also, I think you just peed your pants Buck.” Steve chuckled, walking out of the kitchen with no thoughts. The remaining two glanced down at his pants. The large splotch of translucent liquid creamed his pants, preferably his groin area. He groaned at the incident. It was the only comfiest pants he brought with him.

tags: @callmebucky-doll @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @usernamesarebitches @iheartsebastianstan

[moved-to-anthotnio]

enamorado de ti

Commission for @yesmooshoe | Pepper/Tony | 2.4k words | fluff, romance, falling in love, love confessions, hurt/comfort, pepper needs a hug, tony is a very soft man, latine tony

•••

They're in the workshop when it happens the first time. It's been a fairly long day, with Pepper helping him figure everything out now that the weapons division in Stark Industries has been declared closed by Tony's word on live television only a couple days before. The SI Board isn't happy at all, to say the least, so Tony has to go through a lot of paperwork to ease their minds for a bit as he tries to clear his head enough to determine how to proceed with his decision.

And Pepper, God bless her soul, is still here with him. Even after all this years as his personal assistant, even after deciding to become Iron Man, after literally putting her hand inside his chest and sending him into cardiac arrest for like five seconds, she's still here. Sitting in front of him with her brows furrowed, one hand on her chin as she reads the papers in front of her, her red rimmed eyes more focused than ever even though they've been here for almost two days surrounded by empty coffee mugs piled one on top of the other and different stacks of paper that Tony wants to set on fire - because, oh my God, why couldn't they send this through e-mail or something similar? This is literal torture. Oh. Well. That explains it. -, and the sun rising just behind her back.

So really, no one can blame him. He literally can’t help it, he just can't. It hits him like a ton of bricks, the epiphany making the world shift around him with a new, wonderful perspective. And just that realization has eased all his worries, because suddenly nothing but Pepper’s existence matters. So he really, can't help it, it just slips past his lips and there's no way to stop the words.

“Estoy enamorado de ti.”

I'm in love with you. And he is. He is utterly and irrevocably in love with Virginia Potts.

She looks at him, confusion showing on her face, her beautiful blue eyes set on him with a warm exasperated affection that only she can convey, and says, “You know I can't understand Spanish, right?”

Tony grins, “Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

She smiles and it’s a precious little thing that makes warmth blossom in Tony’s chest. She stands up, almost throwing the papers in her hands, and and flexes her arms over her head, stretching the cramps she must be having away. She sighs deeply before asking, “Want some café? I feel like hell and I need some right now or I’ll just drop dead right here.”

“God you sound like me,” Tony replies, nodding eagerly. Coffee sounds great about now. He definitely needs more, nevermind the mugs laying empty around them. God, what would he do without this woman in his life? “Wait, didn’t we run out of coffee beans this morning?”

“Yeah we did. But I have an idea.”

“Great. You always have the best ideas, Pep.”

She just rolls her eyes and goes over to the coffeemaker, taking a couple of mugs from the pile and rinsing them out before pouring cold coffee in them and putting them in the microwave because that’ll have to do for now.

Then Tony catches up and smirks, “Finally learning some Spanish are we?”

She comes back with the mugs and hands him his with a mischievous smile playing at her lips, “Well, Mr. Stark, having to listen to your nonsense after all these years in English and Spanish has to pay off for something, doesn’t it?”

“But Miss Potts, I thought my money and charming personality were enough,” he replies, looking at her with feigned offence with one hand splayed over his chest, as her laughter fills the air.

“Nice try Tony, now let’s get back to work.”

Yeah, he’s absolutely in love with her.

•••

The second time it happens, they’re snuggled together on the living room couch. Pepper is sick, the exhaustion after working so hard for the past few weeks finally catching up to her. Getting sick due to exhaustion happens often enough to both of them after particularly long work binges that they already have a schedule figured out: sleep, have breakfast, take meds, snuggle through a movie, eat lunch, take meds, and so on. Might seem a bit boring and monotonous, but it works wonders for them. Plus, they get their much needed rest, and are there for each other through it.

So yeah. Pepper is sick and currently lying on the couch with her head on Tony’s lap, as he passes his fingers through her long strawberry blonde hair. Her forehead is hot, and Tony wonders if maybe she should take a lukewarm shower to lower her temperature, but her eyes are focused on the movie and she seems really into it.

By the time the movie is ending, the sun is setting behind New York City’s skyline. The dying rays lighting up the living room with warm, soft yellow light. Tony asks JARVIS to turn the TV off as soon as the credits starts rolling, and pats Pepper softly on the head to wake her up. She turns around with a soft, tired smile on her lips and takes his hand, placing a small kiss on his knuckles.

“Come on honey, let's give you a bath,” he says softly. “Your temperature is too high. We need to lower it a bit.”

She frowns at him, and rolls back again, pressing her head into Tony's thigh, “‘m not hot, just need to sleep.”

“Miss Potts,” comes JARVIS’ voice softly, “I never thought I'd ever say this, but Mr. Stark is right.”

“Hey!” Tony exclaims with indignation.

Pepper laughs softly, the sound muffled by Tony's thigh where she presses her head into his thigh as a makeshift pillow. And even though she's giggling at his expense thanks to JARVIS - damn traitor -, the sound is like music to Tony's ears.

“The bath is ready, Sir.”

“Thanks, J,” he says, and then turns to Pepper.

“Come with me darling,” he murmurs, pulling her up from the couch as she wraps and arm around his neck. “The bath will do you good.”

Pepper just hums as Tony takes her to their bathroom, one hand on one for her hips and the other holding her hand, after she refused to be carried. She's so sleepy she looks like she might just stumble and fall, but Tony is determined to not let that happen, so he hovers close to her. He lowers her to perch on the lip of the tub and helps her strip off her sweaty clothes. She carefully pulls off her shirt off while Tony tugs off her pants and socks. She stands to lift her feet, and Tony slides the rest of them off, along with her underwear.

After they finish, she turns to the foggy mirror, standing there fully naked. She scans her body up and down with her eyes and grimaces at her reflection, “God I look like shit.”

Tony rolls his eyes, and places a light kiss on her freckled shoulder, placing his hands on her hips, still holding her up gently. “Impossible,” he whispers softly against her ear. “You ever looking like shit is unrealistic. You're always gorgeous.”

She raises her eyebrows at him through the mirror, “Oh really? Way to sugarcoat that I do look like shit while sick.”

“No sugarcoating,” he promises, turning her around so they're face to face. “You're beautiful in every way, mi amor. You're sick, and do kinda look like a mess, so what? That doesn't strip you of your beauty, which goes further than your physical appearance. You are beautiful, mi corazón.”

Pepper blushes, the redness of her cheeks coming from Tony's statement hiding among the redness caused by the fever she's suffering, but Tony doesn't miss it, and kisses her cheeks softly.

Once inside the bathtub, she relaxes, her whole body going limp in the water, the accumulated tension leaving her body slowly. She's nodding off as Tony takes it upon himself to clean her body and wash her hair, but Tony makes sure that her head stays above the water.

Later, after she puts on a clean set of pajamas, and they both curl up together in the large bed. Tony says it again, softly, as she falls asleep between his arms.

“Estoy enamorado de ti.”

He hopes that one day he can actually tell her.

•••

The third time it happens, they're on a vacation in México for their six-month anniversary of dating. Tony wanted to show her one of the places he used to visit a lot during his childhood, especially this one, since it's one of the only places in México he ever got to see with his mamá.

The beach is deserted when they arrive. Miles and miles of golden sand stretching along the bay, and nothing but the sound of the seagulls flying above them, and the soft, soothing lap of the waves rolling onto the shore, the warm water licking his feet and ankles. The sun hasn't risen yet, hidden behind the horizon, but the first rays of sunshine are showing already, lighting up the scenery in a mix of orange and pink light.

Pepper sits on the sand, so close to the shore that the waves reach her legs. The hem of her summer dress gets wet when one particular wave rolls higher than the others, sand staying on her skin after the water retreats. She looks beautiful, and her quiet presence makes the scene look as if it were out of a wonderful dream.

Tony sits beside her and hands her her mug of coffee, as they quietly watch the sun begin to rise above the skyline, “Here’s your coffee, honey.”

“Gracias, Tony.” She takes a sip from the mug, and hums with delight. “Hmm, oh my god what did you put in this?”

“A little bit of leche condensada,” He says smiling. “I couldn’t find any milk, so I used a little of the condensed milk we bought to make my mamá’s mango ice cream.”

“This is good, thank you darling.”

“No problem, querida.” Tony takes a big sip from his mug, and stares at the water swaying in front of them.

He tells her stories of his childhood, spending the summer here with his mamá, chasing the water and picking up seashells along with his mamá. Here he learned to make homemade ice cream, learned how to swim, and how to appreciate the little moments with his mamá. Now, as he recalls all the stories he has to tell, everything feels like a lifetime ago.

An idea pops in his mind, and he turns to Pepper, barely hiding his grin. “Hey, are you ready to try again?”

Pepper looks at him, a little confused. But then what he’s asking seems to click in her brain, and he can see the excitement already shining brightly in her eyes, “When am I not ready?”

Tony laughs, and puts his mug of coffee down beside him before taking her hands between his, “Okay, so. Let’s see if you remember the words I taught you on the way here. First, arena?”

“Sand,” Pepper says with confidence, and he knows the game is on.

“Mar?”

“Hmm, sea.”

“Amanecer?”

“Sunrise.”

He eyes her with suspicion, “You're sure?”

“I'm… sure.” Pepper raises her eyebrows at him, amusement clear on her face, making her cheeks shine a soft red color, her freckles standing out. “You’re tricking me aren’t you? Asking me just to confuse me.”

“Got me there,” Tony smirks. “But hey, three out of three, you did alright.”

She nods, grinning at him. He leans in and presses his lips to her in a chaste kiss. He can still feel her grin through the kiss, the soft touch of her lips intoxicating as she whispers against his mouth, “Teach me a little more…”

“God, you’re insatiable.”

She shrugs, all smug, “What can I say? I’m a fast learner.”

Tony rolls his eyes, and thinks of the words he’s gonna say next. “Calor?”

“Heat.”

“Anoche?”

“Last night.”

“Azul?”

“Blue.”

“Ámame?” Tony asks, with a little more feeling that he intended.

Peppers face softens, her lips curving in a beautiful smile that lights up her face, “Love me.”

Tony smiles back, the pressure in his chest growing, the words screaming to get out. “Perhaps I do.”

Her expression shifts, surprise and amusement shining on her face. She smirks, “Well then, how do you say kiss me?”

“Bésame.”

And she does just that. She leans in, her lips on Tony's as she climbs onto his lap. Her hands find their way around his neck, her fingers tangled in the soft curls at the nape of Tony's neck. She breaks the kiss, and leaves butterfly kisses along his jaw and neck, smiling softly against his sun kissed skin. “How do you say hold me?”

Tony pulls her close to him, his arms around her waist. “Abrázame.”

She leans close to his ear, and her voice is barely a whisper. He's not even sure if he was meant to hear the words or not, but he answers anyway.

How do you say I'm in love with you?

“Estoy enamorado de ti.”

She leans back so fast that she almost falls backwards, and Tony watches her face shift with the realization. Tony knows Pepper has heard this words before, has memorized them and has asked him about them several times. Yet she never built up the courage to look them up on her own, or ask anyone else, because she knew they were special and for her ears only. 

And now she knows, and her eyes are shining brightly. She leans back in and kisses him with a feeling that words can't convey. But he understands, he knows what she means, just like she knows what he means, and it feels like the world shifts and rights itself again, all the pieces finally falling back into place, just like when Tony realized he was in love with her.

Tony knows now, his world is moved by Pepper Potts. And now? Now she knows too.

[noonachronicles]

The Right One Pt. 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

You all still with me?

Your feet tapped anxiously as you looked out the window at the passing scenery. Jackson was flipping through a packet of paperwork, his reading glasses perched on the top of his nose. Pulling your earbud from your ear you cleared your throat. 

“How much longer?” you asked peeking at him. “Where are we going?”

“Just a bit longer, and I'm still not telling you.” he smirked.  

With an annoyed sigh you fell back into your seat. “You could at least spend time with me.”

“I am. Right now.”

“You're spending time with those papers. If I'd known you were just going to work the whole trip I wouldn't have let you talk me into taking the train. I could be in the comfort of my own car.”

“Look at you, your needy side is coming out.”

You scrunched your nose, “Is not.”

“It's okay. I like it. I want you to need me, to want me.”

You groaned, “Ugh, I changed my mind, go back to your papers.”

Jackson laughed and put his papers away before placing his head on your shoulder. “Too late, I'm all yours”

Turning your face so that your noses brushed you handed him the hanging earbud. “Here.”

Something slow had started playing while you'd been talking, and your heartbeat quickened as he slipped his hand into your lap, wrapping your fingers in his.

“I love you.” You whispered watching his eyes.

He smiled, “I love you more.”

You pressed your lips to his, they were too close not to kiss, “Where are we going?”

“Not telling you.” He smiled even wider and kissed you back.

 Another hour or so worth of train ride and the two of you got off at the last stop. You weren't sure where you were, it was a seaside village you'd never been to but you knew you were near the ocean from the salty aired breeze that whacked you in the face getting off the train.

“Where to now?” You asked.

Jackson grabbed your hand and lead you from the station, “Now we stretch our legs.”

Together you walked out of the busier part of town to a more quiet neighborhood. When you looked passed the houses you could see the water. There was a small cliff and then nothing but ocean as far as you could see.

Without warning Jackson walked you up to a small blue house. Handmade seashell wind chimes lined the patio. The house was small but it looked cozy and the view was phenomenal. He walked you around the back of the house to where clothes were hanging on a line. And a door was open to the house.

“Hello!” He called brightly, “Anyone home?”

“Coming!” Came a female voice from inside the house.

A tiny older woman came out of the house, her whole face brightened when she saw Jackson. She shared his eyes and smile and you knew immediately she was his mother. You enjoyed the sweet scene for barely a minute before it hit you. He'd brought you to meet his parents with no warning. You were going to kill Jackson Wang, possibly right in front of his mother.

“Aahhh. I hate this.” Jackson’s mother was complaining about his bleached hair. “Fix it right away. Back to how it's supposed to look.”

He nodded obediently, “Yes, mama.”

“Good,” she smiled happily and pulled him into a hug, “I missed you baby boy.”

Jackson squeezed her back just as tight and your heart went back to exploding in your chest, “I missed you too, mama. There's someone I want you to meet.”

“This pretty girl?” She asked releasing him from the embrace to take you in.

“Hi, I'm y/n. It's a pleasure.” You said bowing politely. “I'm sorry I don't have a gift, Jackson didn't tell me where we were going. I didn't know I'd need one.”

She laughed and threw her arms around you, “Silly girl, you're the gift.”

“Oh.” You blushed and shook your head shyly, “no...no.”

“Yes! Yes!l” his mother assured you, she grabbed your hand and pulled you to the edge of the yard which overlooked a small stretch of beach and a dock with a boat. “Ruiji! Come up here, we have guests!”

An older man that was down on the dock looked up at the pair of you and waved before making his way up a narrow walking path. You tried to keep your heart steady, and prayed that Jackson's father was more accepting than your own.

Jackson’s father was amazing. He was sweet and he was funny and you knew just where Jackson got his shining personality. He took you out on his boat and taught you how to fish. It didn’t take you long at all and he had said you were a natural at it. He told you some of the most embarrassing stories about Jackson when he was a kid and you couldn’t wait to use them all against him. In your time together that afternoon he had caught several fish and a basket of crab but he waited until you had caught at least one fish before bringing the boat back to the dock.

You helped him carry the fish and crab up to the house and very excitedly went inside to tell Jackson about your first catch. When he stepped out of the room he’d been in he took your breath away. His hair laid softly against his head instead of filled with product and it was dark, black.

“Your mom did really not like the blonde.” You said and bit your lip, certain urges pulling in your stomach.  

He ran his hand through his hair and grinned, “What do you think of the new look?”

He watched as you lifted your hand and touched the soft dark hair. “It’ll do.”

“It’ll do?” he laughed, grabbing your hand in his.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Jackson’s father said popping his head into the house, “Time to prep for dinner.”

Jackson’s father handed you the fish you'd caught earlier and you squealed as it squirmed in your hands. The smile on Jackson’s face was brighter than usual as his mother laughed at your reactions.

“What, you never touched a fish before today?” Jackson's father laughed, helping you get the fish on the cutting board. You shook your head. “Who cooks for you? How are you not dead from starving!”

“Baba,” Jackson spoke up, “let her be.”

His father just waved him off, “It doesn't matter. After tonight you'll know how to do it all. You already know step one. Catch the fish. Now step two.”

“You sound so sure that I'll be good at it.” You said with a little more skepticism. 

“Trust me. I can tell when people are smart and you, my dear, are one of the brightest.” He said handing you a narrow knife.

“She did pick me.” Jackson smirked.

His father looked at him deadpan and said, “Everyone makes mistakes, Jackson.”

You’d never had so much fun at a family dinner. You learned through tiny screeches and half gags how to wash and debone a fish from Jackson's father and how to season and cook it from his mother. All the while laughing constantly, so much so that your stomach hurt and near the end of the night you'd laughed so hard that tears streaked your face. Falling over your cheeks that were sore from smiling.

Jackson’s mother set the pair of you up on a sleeping mat on the floor in the living room. She'd said she would have usually separated young couples but one, she was no old fool and two, she knew Jackson well enough to know he'd break any rules anyway. You laid together for what felt like hours. Your hand on his chest or playing with his dark hair. His fingers gently running over your back 

You couldn't help the urges building inside of you. Not after last night. Without a word you slipped your hand down his stomach and teased the elastic of his sleeping pants. He chuckled lightly before reaching down and snatching up your fingers in his.

“My parents are in the other room.” He whispered against your hand before kissing it gently.

“So be quiet.” You whispered kissing his neck.

He let out a long, low sigh and released your hand. You continued to kiss his neck softly as you slipped your now free hand into his sweats. He was already hard in your palm and you grinned against his jaw.

“I can see how against this you were.” you teased.

“Oh my god.” He whispered as you squeezed his dick in your hands. “Just get on my cock.”

“Listen to you, so demanding.” you said dragging your teeth over his earlobe.

His fingers grabbed your chin roughly. “Either ride me or blow me.”

You raised your eyebrows at him in surprise. He'd never been so aggressive, and you'd never been so wet. You quickly removed your panties and straddled his hips. He was hard and slick in your hand as you guided him to your entrance. You squeezed your lips together as not to cry out from the way he filled you, still sore from the night before.

Jackson kept his hands on your waist as you rolled your hips. He hissed through his teeth as you bounced on top of him. “You're so tight.”

You slowed your movements and leaned in close to his ear before whispering, “You just have such a big dick.”

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned at your words and lifted his hips to meet yours.

You slapped your palm against your mouth to avoid screaming out as he got deeper than before. He slipped his rough, warm hands up your sleeping shirt and pinched and twisted your nipples. His thrusts inside of you got slower; deeper, as he reached towards his orgasm.

Jackson dropped one hand between your thighs and let his thumb rub against your clit as you kept riding him. You had to practically shove your fist in your mouth to keep quiet. Your thighs shook around him and you came, his dick sloppy with your arousal and his.

He wrapped his arms around you as you slumped against his chest. You giggled against his throat and he smirked. “What's so funny, beautiful?”

“They say blondes have more fun, but I like you better as a brunette.”

His body shook beneath you as he laughed. “Oh, you are trouble.”

“You like it right? I'm not too much for you?”

“Like it? Beautiful, I love it.” He grinned patting down your hair and pressing a kiss against, “Let’s sleep, huh? I'm sure my mom has another eventful day planned tomorrow.”

[aliceofthevalley]

Human 4

4.The Freakout

"What do you mean you're leaving?" I couldn't believe any of this.

"Honestly Sawyer you're acting like a child." Avery continued packing, avoiding my gaze. I gripped his upper arm, I had to stop him before he hurt himself.

"Let go." He flung my hand off the second it touched him, leaving me scrutinizing.

"What is your deal, first you don't talk to me, then the team, and now you're leaving us. What gives?"

"Nothing, mind your own business, geez." My heart was stabbed with hurt, but I continued.

"No, talk to me, please!"

"Sawyer- " he warned over his shoulder as he grabbed his bag heading towards the door. I followed vigilantly.

"Please, I want to help. Just talk to me." We walked ten steps before he turned on his heels to face me.

"Look I don't wanna talk about it. I don't want you helping me, I'm leaving. That's the end of it. As far as you're concerned, we never met and that kiss never happened, so stop trying to butt into my personal life." He was inches away from my face, everything about him screamed ice in that moment. The way he said it, the bluntness of my position now in his life, or lack thereof. I was in utter awe and shock as the floor started swirling beneath me.

"I…uh…" he turned back, leaving me alone to stand in the hall holding back tears. He was just about to turn the corner and leave when I did the unthinkable.

"Why can't you just trust me for once, or anyone for that matter? What did we do to warrant this from you. It's like you're a different person now! I miss you, we miss you, let us help you." I was on verge of tears grasping the wall for support.

"Why?" He said over his shoulder.

"Why?" I gasped.

"Because I love you and I can't watch you go walking to your death alone." I lost it, salty rivers began flowing silently down my face.

"I guess you're disappointed now, huh." Avery turned leaving a cold emptiness in his wake. Everything froze, my brain trying to process it all before it fully hit me. Wave after wave of pain, anxiety and depression lapped at my body, crushing my heart, each beat weaker as realization took it over. I couldn't take it and my legs crumbled under me finally. Monstrous sobs found their way to my throat and into the air, bouncing around the ship, like Avery's final words to me. I curled up into a ball, sobbing until darkness overtook my senses, leaving alone but in peace, a death like sleep.

…………….

I woke up to the sound of faint ship engines running, my face planted on the cold metal floor. There weren't any voices I could make out nearby, so I didn't put effort in trying to get up, just laying there perfectly still. How could this happen, he tossed me aside like nothing. I expected that from my friends and family back home, but never Avery. He made me feel inspired, like I was worth something. Guess not. Tears welled up as I began to regain full consciousness. I hated crying, hated the way it made me feel isolated and weak. In the distance, heavy footsteps slowly approached where I was, probably Azmi and Ridge about 75 yards away from where I laid; I could practically hear the obnoxious green hair from here. I jumped up quickly rushing to a nearby bedroom suite, careful to avoid detection. I quietly shut the door behind me; something starting to rumble at my core, rising toward my heart. Cover your mouth, don't make a sound. A few minutes past before Azmi and Ridge came into listening range.

"Where could she be. It's not like her to miss training."

"Azmi, we've known her for, like, a month."

"Yeah, but in that month, she's consistently gone to practice. Not to mention dinner, and an earth movie she specifically wanted to watch was scheduled to play in the media room tonight." They paused walking, a mere few feet from where I was.

"Look, Sawyer checked in after coming back with Avery, right?" A new, stronger wave of pain rolled over me at the mention of Avery. I barely could subdue the cry tearing my throat and regain composure.

"She's here, probably in her room."

"But her room -" she tried objecting.

"Kid, she's fine; gone exploring to clear her head for awhile." The subject dropped, and with it their conversation. Their footsteps traveling once again. I waited in silence trying to swallow back my feelings, until I couldn't contain it anymore. I pressed my back against the door before falling into a slump and cried. How could he, how could he?

Was it me? Yes that's it, I always had a knack for screwing up relationships. But how, how? Everything was fine until today. No it wasn't, it couldn't have been me, I tried helping but he wouldn't listen. Why didn't he listen? You weren't a part of this fight, he is. You weren't worth knowing anyway.

Voices swam around and around, arguing, so much arguing. Hands to my ears I tried shutting them off, but they just grew louder, making me want to scream. I didn't want to know who did what and whose fault this mess is, I wanted to just feel. The voices hushed before speaking. Then why don't you. Do it. Do it. Do it. Grabbing a pillow from the nearby bed, stuffing it into my face, I screamed, hard and painful. Anger, depression, suffering all coursed through my veins, making me unstable. I got up, blinded by the moment and walked over to the far side of the room where picture frames, seashells, and antique glass bottles sat collecting dust on a beautifully furnished wood shelf. I snatched a blue bottle. Break it; Break it; Break it. Destroy everything, let it all burn to cold ashes.

I threw it against the door, shattering into a shower of broken shards. The adrenaline from it persuaded me to grab another, this time a picture, of what I can't say as salty tears distorted it in the time I had before smashing it among the glass. Item after item, I threw at the ground, until I didn't have anymore emotional strength, reverting back to a wailing mess kneeling on the ground.

Why was I acting like this? All this for a boy I've only known for a couple weeks, this isn't Twilight.

No, but he did make me feel important, no one else has even put effort into doing something like that for me. And yet he left me here, alone in space far from my home- although, planet is more fitting- back to feeling used.

"Sawyer…" a quiet voice interrupted my deprecating thoughts.

"Seil- I…" I turned towards the door, wiping away my shame and slapping on a fake smile. Seil frowned before looking around the tetanus inducing floor I created, stepping over the broken pieces. She wore a long sleeved, floor length dress that dragged glass with it.

"Its 11 pm, you should go to your quarters now, Sawyer.”

"Of course, I’ll get right on that." Before I could leave, she trapped me in a bear hug.

"Should, but won't; I can practically hear the adrenaline in your system. " I tentatively hugged back, her arms tensed and eyes avoiding mine.

"I'm sorry about Avery." I pulled her closer. There was a long pause before she added.

"Don't worry about the mess, I'll clean it up before morning." Seil pulled out, holding me at arms length. At this distance, I fully took in how human she was, more than anyone on this ship.

"Now go get changed, if you're anything like Avery, you'll probably want to head to the combat gym. I'll make sure no one goes looking for you until you calm down." Something happened. Her movement was ridged and choppy, a slight tremor through her body had formed since I last saw her. I didn't know what but something happened to her, I could feel it in my gut. As she began to sweep a path for me outside, I blurted out

"Stop hiding it."

"What?"

"Whatever you're keeping from telling me, stop hiding it. Something went down while I was out, and I need to know." Seil bit her lip, staring at her scuffed shoes nervously.

"It-it's nothing. Nothing happened since you 'went missing', I'm-im just, uh, shocked by your…behavior." It was a blatant lie, but I let it slide since she was helping me. I tiptoed out the door, following Seil down the hall to the deserted athletic facilities.

"I…thanks."

"It'll be our little secret. Now go get dressed."

……………...

The punching bag swayed again after the hundredth hit i dealt. It still amazed me how effortlessly I felt training, yet weird to be able to in the first place.

In, out, breathe.

Sweat beaded on my skin, a welcoming distraction from life for once. I stepped back, smoothing back my hair from my face. Hours had passed, it was probably breakfast time judging from my sore muscles and aching knuckles underneath the thin boxing gloves I was using.

In, out.

Trudging to a nearby bench, I peeled back the gloves revealing a small white bone painted in splashes of garnet, peeking out of my right pointer finger. A couple weeks had jaded me; wearing only a slight frown before pulling off the left and throwing them apathetically to the gym floor. I made my way to the locker room, opening the doors cautiously with my shoulder. Placing my injured hand in the complementary first aid medical bot, I grimaced as my finger was manhandled; the broken bone shoved back into place, fused back together, then the skin stitched and sprayed with antiseptic, all in a matter of seconds using technology I couldn't comprehend nor had time to even care about it. I stripped, dumping my disgusting, sweaty clothes into the laundry shoot and stepping into a nearby shower. Warm water embraced my back as i stood motionless. How long had it been... 4, 5 weeks since I last took an antidepressant? Dang, no wonder life sucks. I tilted my head back swishing my hair around and applying shampoo, followed by conditioner and then shaving. Life felt meaningless and empty. Not just because of Avery, though it didn't help, but the fact I was trillions of light years from Earth. I missed my family, my real family- the one that wasn't hunting me down and trying to kill me. I missed my old life. And Oreos! I teared up at the thought of never having Oreos again; never mind dying , I'll never get to have Oreos again. I smirked to myself.

However, it faded quickly as emptiness came flooding back in, bringing memories of the dead with it; People I killed yesterday. How had I been fine up until now, doing that, murdering members of families and friends in less than an afternoon. How many died because of my actions? Deep down I knew I'd probably killed more than yesterday's blood bath, more innocent souls in heartless slaughter. And I think I enjoyed doing it. I had the skills, backed by the story Ameia told me, and yesterday as testament to that. My heartbeat became more and more painful, recognizable as it rammed itself into my ribcage. I rested my forehead against the tiled shower wall closing my eyes. Breathe. Yesterday was an accident, I didn't mean to kill them, I tried to save them; there wasn't anything I could've done. But those before… we can't change the past, especially not one I can't remember fully. Hot tears brimmed my eyes as guilt ate into me. I was shaking violently to the point of stopping the shower entirely and forcing me into the fetal position on the soaking floor. Three separate occasions of crying in the last 24 hours, how wonderful. I fill my lungs; in, out, in, out, pull yourself together Sawyer, geez. Deep breaths, come on.

Push, pull, push, pull, push, pull, push, pull.

Minutes of trying to battle a guilty conscious, successful. I shakily stood up, grabbing a clean towel and leave in conditioner from my locker. As clean as I felt physically, nothing could cleanse my soul. I dried my body and put the leave in conditioner in my hair; how long was it now? I turned my head towards a mirror, I made a startling discovery seeing a cascading head of milky white almost to my elbows, a stark contrast to the dark brown bob it had been hours before.

"Huh?" I marched closer, and on further inspection, realized my new arctic blue eyes.

"Great now I'm Hitler's fever dream reanimated." It changed. My whole entire body changed in a matter of minutes for some weird trivial reason. I mean the proportions are still the same, but…

"Nope. I'm done with this bull. I'm done. Just done. Nope."

I turned away from the mirror and began to break into all the girls lockers using a paperclip I found in my gym bag. It wasn't until I got to Azmi's, that I successfully found the compressed version of a professional hair salon fully stocked. Rows upon rows of scissors, curlers, flat irons and hair dye ornamented the locker, a kaleidoscope of colors and bottles. I grab a couple of gray, blue, and purple boxes and set to work.

…………….

"'Morning guys." Everyone looked up from their meals, their eyes instantly widening.

"Uh, Sawyer…what's with the uh…"

"Yeah, you look…" Ridge and Teauz continued to try and overcome their initial surprise, failing spectacularly in the process. Azmi, however had zero trouble with it.

"Did you use my hair dye?" She screeched, rising from her seat. Her eyes flared with metaphorical fire, not even trying to sugarcoat her disgust with me.

"No, Azmi, I magically changed hair colors while I was gone and forgot to tell you. Oops." Not a complete lie, but still misleading to a degree. She rolled her eyes and folded her arms superiorly.

"Don't take that tone with me, you spoiled brat. We were searching for you all night, and this is how you repay me- us?" She stumbled, the narcissist. She tsked at me like a disappointed mother with sickening seaweed hair.

"Either way, next time you're going to dye your hair, at least make it look professional; honestly you have a tie-dyed t-shirt for hair right now. You're a princess, aren't you, at least have some dignity." She sat back down and scoffed, preceding to treat me like a little fly. I could tell the guys were uncomfortable with how I appeared as well as the confrontation. Probably thought I'd gone crazy, since I kinda disappeared the entire day. Whatever, I'd rather deal with the notion that I've lost it because of Avery than being a hate symbol. Seil entered the dining room from the kitchen carrying a plate of pancakes with a yellow soup, and a cup of tea when she met my eyes. I caught a flicker of relief pass over her.

"Miss Sawyer, good morning. I took the liberty of preparing some food I thought you would like since you didn't request anything." She smiled brightly as I grabbed a chair and sat down away from the others. I avoided their glances while Seil placed my food in front of me and left. Silence accompanied the song of chewing, cutting, and slurping, which lasted for a good half hour.

"So, what's the plan for today?" I pushed away my now clean plate and straightened myself.

"Uh, yeah, right the plan and stuff." Teauz painfully tried to focus again, fidgeting with his fingers. Ridge managed to say, "We're circling around a nearby moon: there's been sightings of military forces patrolling around this solar system. Once we're sure it's safe to leave, we will." They avoided eye contact while picking at their food.

"Oh…'kay. Should I go get dressed for combat or…"

"No!" They panicked, spilling a cup of silver fluid in the floor. Azmi rolled her eyes and summoned Seil before pouting some more.

"I-I mean, no need to today, we're staying on board." Teauz fidgeted more, casting a glance at Ridge, who wore a slightly muffled, deadpan expression.

"Uh, alright…" Standing up, I turned to leave.

"Wait where are you going?"

"My room, why?" Teauz stopped fidgeting trying to think of an excuse.

"Because…" There was a long pause.

"Look, I get you're worried about me, especially after last night; but you need to chill. I'm not running away, or hijacking the ship, or even sulking; I'm just going to my room to work on some stuff." He nodded, before sitting back down slowly along with Ridge. I made it out of the room before they could say anything else.

…………….

The smell of old paper and bound leather was intoxicating. Walls of books stood mountainous before me, lined with knowledge. Since everyone was on the upper decks, I took it upon myself to unlock the secret library no one seemed to want to talk about with me.