#word of honor fanfiction

[skimmingmilk]

aughhh sonic going back in time to visit little two yr old tails as been in my brain for what feels like forever! like how many dots does he end up connecting? how does he have the strength to not travel back further and knock the daylights out of tails’s mom? how does he react to the whole kukku invasion and forest fire? so many questions…aaaaa im so excited for this fic i will be in ruins. in ruins, i tell you

also with the whole sonic punching tails’s mom thing: you were talking about tails and his parents, but like sonic interacting (or just seeing) tails’s parents is always something ive thought about. idk, im curious about what your take on that would be, if you have one. (sorry if you’ve already answered something like this ahshhshs)

your boys are just spinning around in my brain constantly. they are living in there completely rent free. i adore them sm, they make me sick. anytime there’s a reference or parallel to something in their past, it hurts. these boys need therapy immediately. maybe even before immediately. your portrayal of them is such a huge inspiration istg

anyway, sorry this is kinda all over the place 😭 i just had a bunch of thoughts and threw them together in the most coherent way i could lol. hope you have a good rest of your night/day! stay safe out there 🩵

So, I was saving this because it really inspired me to write a little something, and it felt fitting because I live for your baby Tails and Sonic art, it's seriously the best boost of serotonin for me xD I'm sorry it took a minute to get to this, and I'll address the second idea you had in another ask (someone else was on the same wavelength as you around this time, and also asked about Sonic and Tails and Tails's parents xD).

But for now, please accept a continuation of the back in time shenanigans <3

Sonic Back In Time Shenanigans WIP #2: Back for the Luggage

Tracking down a second Chaos Emerald so he could skip back in time for an afternoon wasn’t how Sonic saw himself spending the past few days. Though, to be fair, he spent a good chunk of them trying to ignore the very itch encouraging him to give into this particular whim of the week, but impulse control wasn’t Sonic the Hedgehog’s claim to fame. Not by a long shot.

His curiosity had been piqued. New insight into the lore of his little brother’s life before he’d ever crossed his path niggled at his mind no matter how far and fast he ran from the temptation to take a peek. The glimpse he’d got on that rainy night hadn’t been all that reassuring, with Tails so small and sick and the time Sonic got to spend with him in that dusty, stuffy cabin all too brief.

Cocoa Island. He’d looked it up after he and Silver returned to Sonic’s present, their respective futures stabilized for the time being, but he couldn’t find much information on it. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sonic could chart it on a map, it almost seemed like it didn’t even exist.

Historic records mentioned studies of the volcanic activity on the island more than a decade ago. Mines had also been dug out in the cave systems throughout the island long before Sonic had been born, in search of potential esoteric energy sources.

The Chaos Emeralds, no doubt.

But other than that, it seemed the island had never been properly settled. Sonic could’ve flown over in the Tornado for a quick jaunt—running to small islands never boded well for him, they were always tricky to aim for—but he knew it wouldn’t have the answers he was itching to find out.

And sure, the big one was already answered. The sick baby fox he’d had to leave behind in the care of some flickies after that rainy night obviously made a full recovery, or else Tails wouldn’t be alive in Sonic’s present, off on his own adventure. Flying solo. Alone.

But knowing that without actually seeing it, experiencing it for himself, didn’t satisfy Sonic in the slightest. He was all about experiences. And he wanted to experience this mysterious chapter of his best bud’s life, one he never really let himself think all that hard on.

So, that was how Sonic found himself on a nearly deserted island eight years in the past with two Chaos Emeralds in hand. It was warmer than in his present, willing to bet they were somewhere in spring or early summer as opposed to late fall, but the dense cover of pine trees kept the forest floor cool in its shade. Allergies tickled his nose, prompting Sonic to scratch at it as he took in his surroundings. Flickies sang throughout the branches, their chirps a comforting song accompanied by the steady hum of insects hidden in the brush. With his own curious hum, Sonic picked a direction and ran with it—er, walked with it. He took it slow for the moment, trying to find his way back to the cabin from that night. It seemed like his best bet to start his search for Tails.

Until a child’s voice somewhere in the forest caught his ear, both perking up and flicking towards the sound with an instinctive pull as everything else faded into the background. A breath Sonic hadn’t realized he’d been holding lifted from his chest. The child sounded light, healthy. No coughing or crying as far as he could tell. 

Sonic followed the voice to a clearing. Unlike the stormy day he’d first stumbled in on, sunlight flooded the patch of grass between the trees with its warm beams. One fell across a tree stump where a two-tailed fox kit lay sprawled across on his tummy, bright-eyed and bushy tails further confirmation that he’d made a full recovery. Sonic’s shoulders sagged with relief as he observed him from the brush, his own green eyes lighting up as he realized he was playing. Making motor sounds with his mouth, Tails rolled a toy airplane through the long, wild grass. His tongue poked out as he accidentally blew raspberries amidst his very serious airplane noises.

“Pfft—” Sonic’s laugh nearly sputtered out of him, cut off only by the fact that the kid heard him and froze.

Ears swiveled in his direction, but Tails couldn’t see him through the trees from his spot on the stump. The toy airplane fell to the grass with a soft thump as the baby fox squirmed and tried to hoist himself up into a sitting position, his two blue boots dangling just over the edge as his bare hands planted themselves on the wood between them to support himself. One tail flicked up and down with excitement while the other twitched limply against the tree stump, like it didn’t know it could lift itself up like its twin.

“Mom?” he called out, and the hope in his voice ensnared Sonic’s heart in a vice. “Mom!”

“Ah, sorry, little guy. Not mom.” Sonic stepped out from behind the brush with his hands up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Just me. Long time no see.”

His tails immediately wilted as the bright-eyed, eager expression on his face retracted into something shy and pensive. But not scared, Sonic noted. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Remember me? I stayed with you during that rainstorm the other night,” Sonic added, hoping to jog the little guy’s memory, but he didn’t actually know how long it had been since that night. 

He didn’t have Silver’s neat little time travel gizmos. His comm couldn’t pinpoint where he was in time, only in space. Which meant he couldn’t stay long, because if Tails or anyone else tried to ping his location, it’d probably come up blank. 

The Tails sitting in front of him drew his legs up, curling into himself a bit the closer Sonic got. Okay, well maybe he was a little afraid. Sonic stopped short of reaching the tree stump, hoping a reassuring smile would get him the rest of the way.

“My name’s Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. What’s yours?”

Tails stared at him for a moment, until his gaze slowly slid past him to focus on the tree line behind him. Sonic planted his hands on his hips and canted his head back to see if anything was there, but aside from the buzz of insects and rustling of flickies in the leaves, the forest was still. No one else but the two of them smack dab in the middle of it.

“…Mom?” Tails whispered, grabbing onto one of his tails to hold.

Sonic’s smile slowly slid off his muzzle. In all the time he’d known Tails, he’d never once called for his mom. Not a single cry. By the time he came into Tails’s life, whatever innate trust he’d had for this faceless person had completely evaporated. There was only one person Tails had ever called out for, ever cried for, ever searched for when he was lost or scared or lonely.

Sonic swallowed thickly. “I don’t know where your mom is, bud. You waiting for her?” Tails nodded with the most intense certainty, his ears flopping forward and back with the force of it. “Did she… did she say when she’s coming back?” 

This time Tails pursed his mouth as he thought carefully about his answer, his pensive expression the same one he’d still make to this day when he debated how to explain something to him. If he should explain something to him. If he should give his big bro a glimpse into the inner workings of his big brain, or if it’d be easier—safer—to keep it all to himself.

And just where’d he pick up that particular trick?

But this Tails was young enough—hadn’t been hurt enough—to trust someone who looked like a grown-up, so he slowly shook his head in response, wide blue eyes gazing up at him like there’d be some sort of prize if he answered all the questions correctly. 

Sonic’s brow furrowed. “Do you know how long it’s been since you last saw her?”

“Long.” The small, squeaky voice was so matter-of-fact, Sonic nearly fell over with the sheer amount of joy a single syllable filled him with; his little bro’s attitude had been baked into him from the start.

“I’ll bet,” he huffed out a chuckle, choosing to sit cross-legged in the grass so he wasn’t towering over Tails like some kind of threat. “You like planes?” Sonic glanced meaningfully at the toy plane still discarded in the grass.

Tails glanced down at it, the tip of his tail in his mouth as he gently chewed on it. “Mmhm.”

Though Tails had long-outgrown the habit of chewing on his own tails, Sonic would still occasionally catch him nibbling on the ends of pens and pencils when he was deep in thought or starting to get hungry. Or, at least, he used to. Back before Sonic had been captured and Tails had been out on his own for six months…

“I like ‘em, too,” Sonic piped up with a grin. “Probably my favorite way to travel! Second to running, of course.”

Tails blinked at him, head canting to one side. Sonic’s smile grew and he scooched forward a couple inches, steadily closing the gap between them.

“Y’see, running’s sort of my thing. What kinda things do you like to do?”

Tails glanced down at the toy plane again, then up at the sky. He pointed shyly at the white, puffy clouds slowly floating by overhead. Sonic followed his gaze, unable to help the way his smile crooked to one side.

“You like to watch the clouds?” Sonic filled in for him, beaming when Tails nodded. “Me too. You ever look for shapes in ‘em?”

The little guy’s brow furrowed. “Shapes?”

Sonic laughed as the perplexed, and ultimately unconvinced, expression remained fixed on Tails’s face. “C’mere, I’ll show ya!”

Unceremoniously flopping onto his back, face turned towards the sky, Sonic patted the grass beside him. Though they were mostly shielded by the thick cover of trees, a light breeze still wafted down into the clearing and carried the salty scent of the sea with it. The stands of grass tickled Sonic’s side as he laid back and took a deep breath, listening for the familiar patter of eager footsteps following his lead.

Except they didn’t come.

Sonic pushed himself up onto his elbows. Tails was still curled up atop the tree stump, chewing on the tip of his tail as he watched him with worry in his eyes. Worry that had no place being there in a kid so young.

So Sonic cracked another smile. “Don’t worry. The floor’s not lava,” he teased, but it was something the toddler obviously didn’t understand. “It’s safe, bud. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Promise.”

Tails’s gaze darted to the treeline again, searching amongst their thick trunks and low-hanging branches before snapping back to Sonic. “Mm… s’pposed to wait here,” he mumbled, his words sounding a little thick as some of his syllables slurred together in a mouth that was still so small, but ultimately what he’d said was clear enough for Sonic to understand.

His smile slowly faded as he processed the simple explanation; the same feeling rising in the back of his throat as when he sat with a sick Tails in the cabin while the kid asked if he could go home. “Your mom tell ya that?”

Tails nodded. “Wait here. Be good.” His little face scrunched up in a look of pure, earnest determination. “Wait here an’ be good, then mom will come back. She said… she said.”

But she wouldn’t.

No one would.

And maybe Tails already knew that. Even if he didn’t want to believe that someone he loved would leave him, he’d always been a smart kid. Tails’s tiny claws caught in the fur of his tail as he clung tighter to it—like he could physically cling to the hope that his mom would still come back if he did this one thing really well.

If he did his very best.

“Look Sonic, I made this for you!”

“Sonic, I’ve made some adjustments to the Tornado’s aerodynamics, so her base speed has more than doubled! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I made a radar to help us track the Chaos Emeralds faster!”

“I still need to optimize your Extreme Gear’s turning radius and acceleration for your next race. It’s not good enough.”

“The Cyclone still has a ways to go in terms of balancing its different modes of transport. It’s just not good enough at land or air travel yet.”

“I’m wildly inconsistent. I’m just a burden to you. I’m not good enough.”

Not good enough.

Sonic’s fingers dug a little firmer into the soft, damp soil beneath the grass. “Well, I mean, ya gotta get off that stump sometimes. What about when you get hungry? You leave to go get food, dontcha?”

Tails stiffened, fur frizzed up like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial mint chocolate chip cookie jar. “Don’t tell,” he pleaded, eyes wide as panicked tears welled up. “I’m sorry—”

“Woah. Hey, hey, hey,” Sonic sat up straighter so he could lift his hands, using them to make a calming gesture as Tails’s little chest started to heave with each little gasp. “Easy there, bud. I’m not gonna tell her.”

“…Not?”

Despite the storm brewing just beneath the surface, faced with further confirmation that Tails had never truly felt safe or wanted, he refused to scare the kid with its intensity. Offering up a kind smile and reassurance, Sonic held up a finger to his mouth. Like they were keeping secrets from some nameless authority figure they’d never shared. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Tails’s ears perked up and the grip on his tail eased up. “M’kay…”

“M’kay,” Sonic mimicked, smile growing as he watched Tails scrub at his face with the fur of his forearm. “C’mere, kiddo. Watch the clouds with me.”

Tails looked at him for a moment, then scooted closer to the edge of the tree stump. He swung one leg over, then the other, his little boots scraping against the bark as he eased himself down. He was a little off-balance as he toddled over. Both arms splayed out to steady himself as one tail flicked up and the other was dragged behind him, still as limp and awkward as it had been on the stump.

Sonic’s gaze narrowed in on it immediately. “Didja hurt your tail?”

Tails paused and craned his neck back, wobbling a little as he tried to look behind him. “No,” he answered simply.

“Then how come it’s not up like your other one?”

Tails reached behind him and picked up the limp appendage, hugging it to his chest. “Doesn’t do it.”

Sonic’s frown deepened. “Let me see it.”

Tails didn’t even hesitate. He let go of his tail as he waddled right over to him. He turned his back to him, giving him complete access to the part of his body he protected the most. Sonic was the only one he’d learned to trust with them over the years, but he’d had to earn it. 

Sonic gently ran his fingers through the fur, watching his baby brother’s posture for any sign of discomfort. He didn’t flinch, but his good tail started wagging almost immediately, thwacking Sonic in the side of the face. 

“Careful with that,” he chuckled, catching it in a loose hold when it smacked him again. “You could take someone’s eye out with one of these bad boys. Here, hold onto this for me.”

He waited for Tails to grab onto his eager tail, hugging it hard when it wiggled uncontrollably. “S’tryna get away,” he giggled.

“Oh boy, better get a good grip. It’s a slippery one, that tail,” Sonic laughed, using the distraction to his advantage as he palpated along the base of the weaker tail with his fingertips.

There was barely any muscle to it, and the fur was patchy and matted, flattened in a way that his other tail clearly wasn’t, even though his fur overall could’ve used a good brushing. But it wasn’t injured, no welts or bruises or cuts. It was just… weak. Like it was developing slower than its twin. He’d caught a glimpse of it that night where he was sick, but now that he was getting a good look at it, the differences between the two were stark. He couldn’t imagine why; Sonic’s brain literally wouldn’t let him conceive of a situation where this would happen—where Tails wasn’t allowed to use one tail to the same extent as the other.

Whatever had caused this had reversed itself by the time Sonic met Tails, both little propellers of equal strength. At least, he thought they were. To be fair, he’d only been eleven and he hadn’t looked all that closely at them. And Tails barely let him patch him up from where he’d been smacked around by bullies or badniks in those first few weeks.

Idly petting along the length of his tail, Sonic stilled when it spasmed against his palm. Just looking at it, he’d have thought he accidentally pulled on it or snagged his fur, but there was a gentle rumbling sound emanating from Tails’s chest that assured him otherwise. Sonic flicked his gaze up to see Tails watching him, a smile on his face while he purred openly. His tail jerked in his hold again. It was trying to wag.

Sonic’s shoulders sagged, his own smile lopsided as he let his tail slip from his grasp. “All clear. Time to park those two tails of yours right here on the runway.”

Tails squeaked as Sonic nabbed him around the middle, but dissolved into a fit of giggles as he was lifted up and plopped down on the grass next to him. Kicking up one leg over the other, Sonic laid back once again, arms pillowed behind his head as he let out a contented sigh. Beside him, Tails laid back and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, both tails swept to the same side so they wouldn’t get pinched underneath him. He tilted his head up to look at the sky, the same color reflected back in his eyes.

“Shapes?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re gonna look for shapes, little buddy,” Sonic hummed. “Go ahead and tell me what ya find.”

Tails considered the sky for a moment, then pointed at a blob above them. “Oval.”

A sharp laugh burst right out of Sonic. “Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed when Tails pouted at him. “Not those kinda shapes, pal. I’m talking things like flickies or flowers or chili dogs! But good first try. I’m thinking that one looks more like… a whale.”

“Whale?”

“Uh-huh. See the tail?” Sonic removed one hand from behind his head so he could trace the oblong cloud as it faintly curved upwards at the end, making sure Tails’s eyes followed where he pointed. “And there’s its fin. And the wispy bits at the top are like the water shooting out of its spout.”

“Spout,” Tails echoed, blinking up at it like he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“Yeah, you know. Like when they come up from the water and all that mist sprays from that hole on top of their heads like…” A devious grin spread across Sonic’s face before he looped his arm around Tails and dragged him close enough to blow a raspberry against his cheek with a loud, “pbbbbbbfffft!”

Tails squealed, legs kicking as he squirmed about instinctively, but made no move to pull away entirely. The ticklish sensation buzzed through him like a bunch of tiny butterflies; the feeling silly, unfamiliar, and almost overwhelming all at once. He eventually pawed at Sonic’s muzzle, pushing it away from the fluffy, baby fur of his cheek, but he was smiling and laughing as he looked over at him, eyes shining with delight.

“Was that funny?” Sonic snickered.

“Yeah!” Tails beamed at him, his tails beating an inconsistent rhythm against the grass. “You’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” Sonic feigned offense. “Excuse me, but seems to me like you’re the funny one, wiggling around over here like a cup of sparkle gelatin!”

“No!” Tails squeaked, curling up when Sonic poked him in the tummy. 

“No?” Sonic eased back, reminding himself to reign it in a bit so he could figure out if the “no” was just in play or if he was serious. 

As much as he wanted to give this little guy something to smile and laugh about while he was out here on his own—and it was so easy, it was almost intoxicating when he hadn’t seen his brother’s smile in weeks—he didn’t want to overwhelm the kid. But as he let him go and pulled back, a panicked look flashed in Tails’s eyes. His smile fell and a fear that was too big for a guy so small replaced it as he froze up.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Sonic lowered his voice, but even that didn’t stop the tears from suddenly sprouting in the corners of his eyes. “Was that too much? Sorry, kiddo. Not really used to you like this. I don’t know your limits.”

Tails didn’t answer him, probably because he didn’t know how. He was a baby, after all. Four-year-old Tails had often had trouble expressing how he felt or what he wanted. And heck, even ten-year-old Tails was still facing that particular issue. He couldn’t expect a maybe-two-year-old to know…

Tails’s tiny paw reached for Sonic’s arm, the light touch barely registering as anything other than an itch before his fingers curled into his fur. Sonic stared at his hand for a second, then immediately darted to his face. Tails sniffed, muzzle quivering as he held back his tears.

Always sucking it up. Always putting on a brave face. Always trying to be a big kid, like his big bro.

Even when he was just a baby.

“It’s okay,” Sonic repeated, his arm curling around Tails again. “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

Tails nestled against his side, nuzzling his face against him with a shiver and a barely suppressed whimper. “Mom… dad…”

The storm returned with a white-hot flash of frustration and resentment. Sonic directed his glare at the cloud whale lazily floating past them, since he couldn’t look the people responsible for this in the eyes. Not that he particularly wanted to. If they never crossed paths, his and Tails lives would only continue on for the better. That was one thing he was still certain of. There was nothing in the universe that could convince him otherwise.

Not even the baby who desperately wanted them.

But he didn’t know any better. They were all he knew. 

Releasing a long sigh, Sonic let go of the past and pulled himself back into the present—or, well, two-year-old Tails’s present anyway. He patted Tails’s side, then ruffled his fur a bit when he cuddled closer. His fur tickled as he rubbed his little face against his ribs, so Sonic scooched him up a bit more until his cheek was pillowed against his shoulder.

“Sorry if I scared you, bud,” he hummed, watching as one of Tails’s ears twitched from the lull of his voice. “Didn’t mean to. You’re safe with me, okay? When I’m around, I’m always gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Tails tipped his head back to watch him, silently absorbing his words, even if he didn’t understand them. But as Sonic looked down at him, he saw his four-year-old brother snuggling up to him in a storm and his six-year-old brother falling asleep on him during a movie and his eight-year-old brother trying to be strong for Sonic as they lost another friend… He could see all of Tails in the way he looked at him, every moment where he let Sonic see a little of that vulnerability he always tried so hard to hide.

He could even see his ten-year-old brother, hundreds of miles away, determined to bury that vulnerable little kid for good, somewhere Sonic would never find him. And that was fine. If that was what Tails wanted, then Sonic wanted that for him. He wanted Tails to feel confident and capable and every bit the hero Sonic saw in him every day.

“And even when I’m not here… when you can’t see me? I’ll still be with you. Wherever you go, whatever you face, you won’t have to do it alone.”

Tails sniffed, then lifted his head to gaze up at him. “Pomise?”

Sonic’s breath hitched, his eyes as wide as saucers as the fox kit who’d only known him for a few minutes at most looked at him with nothing but trust. “Yeah. I promise.” He had to clear his throat, then tugged Tails up to sit on his chest. “You’ve got no idea just how stuck with me you are, keed.”

“No idea,” Tails repeated, shaking his head with the utmost seriousness a two-year-old could express.

Sonic’s laughter traveled through him and right up into Tails, the two of them shaking with it. The feeling of being bounced about coaxed a few giggles out of Tails and he nearly slid off his unsteady perch. But Sonic’s hands supported him, holding tight so he wouldn’t fall.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Sonic choked out as his laughter petered out on a breathless sigh. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“M’kay,” Tails agreed.

“M’kay.” With one hand remaining on Tails’s waist, Sonic lifted the other to poke him on the tip of his nose, grinning at the way he went cross-eyed from following his finger. “I’m gonna follow up on that in eight years, y’know, so better work on committing that to memory, stat.”

“M’kay.”

“I mean it. There’ll be a test and everything.”

“M’kay.”

“You’re so agreeable,” Sonic sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his head back, leaving the comfortable weight of the baby fox on his abdomen. “I don’t think I know what to do with a little bro that actually listens to me.”

He felt Tails squirm a bit, one knee digging into his ribs as he attempted to scoot further up, then a finger lightly tapped Sonic on the tip of his nose. One green eye cracked open, immediately greeted with a pair of pleased blue ones and a wagging fox tail. Despite the fact that it was pinned beneath him, pressed into the grass, Sonic felt his tail give a jerky little wag, too.

“Shapes?” Tails asked.

“You wanna look for more shapes in the clouds?” Sonic waited for Tails’s eager nod before turning him around and laying him back in the grass beside him. “You got it, bud! You need a redemption round, after all. Let’s see what kinda shapes you can find this time.”

Tails hummed, contemplative gaze fixed on the clouds for a good minute before he pointed slightly to his left. “Floor!”

“Floor?” Sonic squinted up at the cloud, making sure he was looking at the right one. “Oh, ‘flower!’ Yeah, that does kinda look like a tulip flower. Good eye, kiddo.”

Tails nodded proudly. “Mmhm. Floor.”

“Flower,” Sonic repeated, and even made the sign for it, touching each side of his nose with his fingertips, like he was smelling a flower.

“Floor-er.”

“Close enough,” he chuckled. “Oh, okay, now that one looks like a crab claw. Like from a crabmeat.” Grinning devilishly, Sonic made a claw-like grabby motion at Tails with his hand while the little guy laughed. “Or, y’know, an actual crab.”

They watched the clouds, picking more shapes out of them until Tails’s stomach started growling. Sonic quickly sped through the forest to gather up whatever kind of fruits or vegetables were available on the island, eventually settling on some peaches, plums, and cherries. He grabbed them from the other side of the island, so as not to take from anywhere Tails was likely to forage on his own. He liked the plums and peaches, the sticky juice staining his muzzle as it dripped from his hands. He kept trying to lick his fingers clean while Sonic wiped the fur around his mouth so it wouldn’t bother him later when it dried. He didn’t care for the cherries as much, but Sonic still left a small stash of them and the leftover peaches at the base of the tree stump.

With a full tummy and sticky paws, Tails let out a big, squeaky yawn before he curled up on top of the tree stump. His tails covered him like a blanket as he settled down for a nap, giving Sonic just the out he needed. He’d been debating how to head back to his present time without sounding any alarms for Tails. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d be able to if the kid just looked at him with those sad eyes, like he was being abandoned all over again.

But if Tails was asleep, then maybe this would all have felt like just a dream. Sonic had just wanted to check on him after leaving him so abruptly that first time, and then he figured it couldn’t hurt to give him one good afternoon. There would be so many days where he’d be on his own after this, so many months before their paths would cross. One afternoon where a stranger showed him kindness and played with him wasn’t going to break the time stream, but even Sonic knew it couldn’t really go further than that.

“I’d break time lines for that kid.” His own words echoed at the back of his mind, the certainty he’d felt at the time faltering when faced with the sleepy face of a baby fox who wasn’t supposed to have met him yet. It wasn’t so simple.

Sonic waited until Tails’s breaths were deep and steady, arms wrapped around the weaker tail while the stronger one blanketed him with its fluff. Smoothing down his bangs with his thumb, Sonic gently stroked the top of his head and scritched behind his ear.

“Love ya, little bro,” he whispered.

Things would be okay, Sonic reminded himself as he backed out of the clearing, picking up the two emeralds that were his ticket back to his time. Because they were okay in the present. Even if Tails wouldn’t be there when he returned, they would still be okay. Eventually. They always came out on top. Sonic still believed that.

If there was anything he still believed in above all else, it was Tails.

So, to be fair, when he left the Poloy Forest that afternoon, it had been with the intention that this wouldn’t happen again.

But then, Sonic the Hedgehog’s impulse control wasn’t his claim to fame, was it?

---

A/N: Anyway, just wanted to say thank you again, 0vergrown, and that I appreciate you so much! I'm so happy you're interested in this little side plot I've got brewing and all the angst potential that it holds <3 I have so many little scenes I want to write for them, you have no idea! Hope this scratches a bit of the itch for more of these boys who need so much therapy. So much...

And thank you everyone else who's also interested in this idea! Much love to all of you!

[polarisbibliotheque]

Staying alive - Dante and his s/o

It works, you can't tell me otherwise!

Devil May Dance - Stayin' Alive, by Bee Gees

Pairing: Dante x Reader

Summary: Oh, hellish imps. One of your least favorite demons. It doesn't help that they managed to chain you to a chair at the local Disco - luckily, Dante will surely be there to save the day. And to dance.

Author's Note: I friggin' love this song, thanks so much anon for throwing this with Dante here, it works like a charm!! I almost screamed when I saw it xD My mom is a HUGE Bee Gees fan, so I listen to their songs all the time since I was born hahahaha

I've been writing this one since you guys sent me the songs, but as I mentioned before, my health got in the way as always. I'm managing my energy and a bunch of personal issues that appeared the last couple of months, so I decided to finish this one and focus on the Halloween specials of this year! Fret not, though. I'm keeping all your suggestions and I'll write them - it's just gonna take longer than I expected "^^ Also, there's a throwback here to a very special Devil May Dance, hope you guys like it!

Well, out of all the situations you could have found yourself in, that would be your most unexpected one.

It was a stupid mistake, really. A step in a wrong place, a weaker grip on your sword, a miscalculated attack from an enemy. When you least expected, there you were, caught by a bunch of hellish imps, tied to a chair on the local Disco in town, of all places.

With the imps, well, imping around as all those annoying little creatures used to do.

They were one of your least favorite types of demons, that you had to be honest with yourself.

“You know, if you keep doing that, you’re gonna end up breaking it, stupid little thing.” You said with a sigh, head boringly held by one of your hands.

“Says the big bad devil hunter tied to a chair!” The imp taunted back, still smacking the amplifier. You could kick it into oblivion and make it fly to the next country without a plane, but with those chains you were really useless. You sighed again.

“That’s an amp, you buffoon. Its purpose is to amplify sound, if you want something to happen, you have to put some music on, jerk.” Yes, Vergil’s vocabulary got to you – then again, the best way to describe those demons was ‘buffoon’. Vergil’s colorful vocabulary did have a purpose.

“Blah blah blah – talking too much for someone in your situation!” The room exploded in a bunch of high-pitched devilish laughs and you could only roll your eyes.

“Honestly, I hope that thing breaks and electrifies you. That will serve you as a lesson, you moron.”

As if words had power, the thing immediately broke on the hellish imp hands and sent a wave of electrifying shock through its body – making it shake viciously and drop the thing immediately as it fell to the ground with the tongue sticking out of the mouth and mumbling something while unconscious. The other imps stared at you as you smiled with pride – as if you had actually done something.

“Told ya.” You perked on your chair, looking as proud as you could in that situation. Your weapons were tossed on the other side of the room – and you had already gone through the suffering of watching those buffoons playing around with your stuff until they got bored. “Keep messing around and you’ll all end up dead by stupidity.”

Suddenly, a very well-known bass line started playing – followed by a guitar, a set of lights dancing around the club and the colorful squares on the ground starting their own choreography. You raised one eyebrow, trying to understand what was going on and, really, why the Disco started functioning all of a sudden.

“WOOOHOOOOOO!!!!” Until you saw an imp at the sound booth, messing with a bunch of wires, spinning on one of the office chairs – that definitely didn’t belong to the DJ.

Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around Since I was born

Well, well, there it was. Stayin’ Alive. Quite fitting, if you had to say, given your situation. Quite ironic too – and if Destiny really was a humanoid entity, you wanted to have a serious talk to it, because why in all hells it had to be joking around with you that much?

“And now it’s alright, it’s ok, and you may look the other way…” You started muttering the lyrics, lightly tapping your foot on the colorful ground. If that song didn’t remind you of your red devil, you didn’t know what would.

Smiling to yourself, you forgot the imps for a while. You could almost see Dante at the Devil May Cry, barefoot on a lazy Saturday, dancing around the floor of the shop while you giggled at his huge desk. He had some great moves and was definitely showing off now that he had someone to dance to – you were reading, comfortably settled on his big chair, until the jukebox started playing Bee Gees and Dante couldn’t stop himself from dancing.

You didn’t last long with your book though: your red devil grabbed your hands, leading you to the center of the shop; your very own dance floor. You never really talked much about that with Dante, but you were quite certain he didn’t have many opportunities to go out dancing and have fun – even if he was the most fun-loving guy you had ever met in your life. He was a Sparda, after all, and you knew how much Dante avoided being around people so he wouldn’t put them in any sort of danger. You could almost see him dancing alone at the Devil May Cry for so many years – probably watching Saturday Night Fever on that sorry old television of his, copying Travolta’s moves and learning it all only to have fun… By himself. But now, he had a partner to share that with – and you could see in the brightness of his smile how much Dante enjoyed it.

Both of you waited a whole lifetime to start enjoying the things you had dreamed about for so long.

You snapped out of your golden memories, though, when you heard a shot and a loud sound of something falling on the ground. Furrowing your brows, you looked to the other side of the room and, lo and behold, those hellish pestering things were messing with your stuff again while prancing around to the sound of disco music.

That was something you never thought you would see in your life.

“Oi, put that down! You’ll end up breaking it!” You pointed at the imps joking around with your guns, but they only made funny faces and flipped you back as a response. You just stared at them with contempt in your face, having almost no expression but a very annoyed one. “I swear, I’m gonna hang you all by your feet when I get rid of these shackles, you fucking clowns.”

Among the laughs and the music, though, another shot rang outside the club. No one really cared about it, until the door burst open because the imps outside were yeeted in – flying through the dance floor while screaming, stamping the wall of the stage right across the club and leaving a trail of blood on it as it fell dead to the floor.

Looking at the door, you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile. Bathed in the dancing lights of the Disco, Dante strutted in – sword resting on his shoulders, arms open while his free hand held one of his guns.

“Ey, you guys started the party without me?” He stopped after taking a few steps in, illuminated by the twinkling lights on the floor and the ceiling – that cocky smile plastered on his lips.

Oh, you loved that man. So much. How couldn’t you?

“Wouldn’t call this a party when I can’t dance.” You showed him your foot chained to the chair – and you could see in those sky-blue eyes, a sort of compassion mixed with love and a little bit of pity; crowned by his endeared but still convinced smile.

“No worries, babe, your man’s here to help you.” With a wink, Dante skillfully glided through the dance floor, shooting some imps on the way. They tried to block the man, but he swept the floor with the demons with a swift move from his sword, back to his shoulder with a flowy movement. “Got the wings of Heaven on my shoes, I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose!”

You had to laugh at how happy Dante looked while gliding his feet on the colorful squares on the ground, spinning around to hit a couple more imps who tried to get to him. Facing you, Dante winked one more time, now keeping his sword on place and dual wielding Ebony and Ivory.

One step to the right, a shot at a flying imp. One step to the left, a shot at another devil who tried to run towards him. Keeping the groove, Dante spun again doing his old trick of shooting around the club and hitting multiple enemies at once – you ducked and covered your head, still laughing at his antics. Spinning his guns in his hands, Dante coordinated his steps, the beat of the song and the shots being fired.

Ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive – and a little pause for a choreography as he faced you, as if Dante was putting on a show for you only.

“Woohoo, get ‘em, cowboy!” You had to. Dante usually had fun while fighting, but not like he was having today – it’s not like it was a difficult or life-threatening fight, so he could afford being a lot more playful and goofy.

And you had to love goofy Dante.

A couple more shots, and the imps surrounding him were all but stunned, laying on the floor while recovering for the next round. So, Dante did what he did best.

“Stayin’ aliiiiiiiiiiiiiveeeeeeee…” Singing out loud, shaking his hips, and pointing around only to finish the phrase pointing at you.

And of course, he had to be even more over the top. As the demons got up from the floor – helping each other, fighting each other, trying to stand and walk a straight line – Dante started to walk towards you in the rhythm of the song, shaking his hips with every step only to accentuate even more every beat, as if he was a cowboy who had just laced you and now was approaching his bounty.

“Pffffft, you’re ridiculously campy, cowboy…” You couldn’t help but slightly flush, hiding your face on the hand you previously leaned on while completely bored. Well, you couldn’t say you were bored anymore.

“Guilty of all charges, sheriff!” As he approached, one imp tried to get him from behind only to be kicked on the face and thrown into oblivion by Dante’s strength in the process – those sky-blue eyes never left you, though, as well as the playful smile on his lips. “You can arrest me and throw away the key!”

“Hmmm, I might keep these chains then. Maybe I can tie you to our bed when we get home.” You had to tease him back, or it wouldn’t be you and Dante. You saw a sparkle of both fun and desire inside his eyes, as Dante let out a delighted laugh – and kicked another demon on the face.

“Ha! Now that…!” And he had to let the choreography down for a couple of seconds to turn around and shot a few more demons – spinning his dual guns in his hands before doing so, and once more to put them back into their place – but quickly turning back to you; resting one of his hands on the back of your chair, leaning down so his eyes would be leveled to yours. “Is somethin’ I’d love to try, sheriff. You can tie me up and love me any day, sugar.”

You would’ve quipped back if Dante hadn’t used his free hand to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a quite loving kiss – given the situation you found yourselves into. The demons were still trying to get back in shape, now that some of them had run away and some others were still insisting on keeping the Disco to themselves, but with Dante around… You didn’t have to care about demons that much.

“First, let’s cut you lose, shall we?” He still had that playful tone in his voice as he let go of your lips, but as Dante kneeled on the floor to see the shackles, his eyes turned to you with nothing but care in them. “Be careful, Imma cut it down, ok?”

You nodded with certainty and kept your feet together, straining the chains as much as you could so Dante could easily cut it with his sword and not fear hurting you in the process.

“And… You’re set free, babe.” Of course, he had to use that sultry tone he always did whenever he decided to use Lucifer or Faust while sparring with you.

And you would’ve paid more attention to that, if it wasn’t for your sheer and rather intense joy of being cut from those chains.

“Ah, freedom, at last!” You got up in a jump, making him laugh with how happy you were. “Now! Who’s the first one I’m gonna hang from the ceiling, huh?!” You had your hands on your hips, staring at the imps with such a deranged fire some of them actually screamed in terror and tumbled away, flying for their lives through the smashed door.

“Will ya look at that!” Dante clapped while laughing, watching as only a few demons remained to try to stand their ground. “I’ve never seen you scaring so many demons at once!”

“See? I’m learning!” You proudly strutted towards your gear on the other side of the room, mirroring the little show Dante put on for you before. He just stood there, hands on his hips, gladly watching you dance. “Gotta thank Vergil for being such a great example!”

“Oh, bet he’s gonna love hearing that!” With a laugh, Dante punched an imp who tried to get him by surprise – now flying away to hit another couple of demons who inadvertently tried to follow. “But hey, keep on shakin’ those hips like that, hot stuff, I might have to one up ya.”

You let out a mischievous giggle in response, now feeling even more motivated to let yourself loose on the dance floor. While checking your guns – making sure they were in one piece, all bullets where they should be, no damages – you kept moving to the rhythm, singing the lyrics you knew so well.

Dante crossed his arms, gladly watching the show you were putting on – now casually hooking your guns to your holsters and moving to check on your sword. The imps gathered together, blabbering around like screeching minions, preparing a supposedly devastating attack with all their forces combined to bring both of you down – but Dante couldn’t care less. He had a delighted smile on his lips, arms still crossed and tapping one of his feet on the floor to the beat of the song, barely holding himself still.

He guessed his lifetime of bad luck was to compensate for the one moment in his life where you appeared – out of nowhere, in the middle of a job, covered in demon blood and spite. That was the luckiest Dante had ever been and he could see that happening as all the luck he never really had.

Who could’ve guessed that after all that hell that he called his existence you out of all people would find him – and see him? Someone with a heart of gold, a soul of steel, a spirit like fire and kindness like water; who would challenge him but also complement him in all the perfect ways Dante could have never imagined.

Watching you dancing while strapping your sword on your back like he always did, turning around to wink at him and shake your hips from side to side to the beat of the song, raising your arms above your head and closing your eyes while smiling… You were better than any dream. You were his partner, his sheriff, his lover. He only wished he could’ve had an entire lifetime with you in it.

“Hoo, is it me or it’s gettin’ hotter in here, babe…?” With those words from his lips, you opened your eyes once more, trying to read what he was about to do when Dante took his sword from its holster and left it on a table.

“Dante…!” You immediately widened your eyes as he started stripping off his coat while making the most obnoxious and campy stripping dance you could have ever seen.

“What…?” Of course, being the man he was, Dante feigned innocence. You just pointed back at him – blushing like the first layers of Hell, but with a radiant smile on your lips. Honestly, he lived just to see that sight every time you decided to grace him with it. Dante would never tire to see you smile so genuinely.

“There are hellish imps here, red devil. Have some decorum.” Again. Vergil’s vocabulary had its purpose – and when it came to his twin brother, you had to admit colorful words were the best you could do to try to voice some of your exasperated feelings.

“Oh, you thinkin’ I’m gonna take it all off?” Dante pointed at himself with his free hand, his coat hanging on the other hand. He let out a hearty laugh right after. “Ha! You are gonna have to work for that, sheriff!”

You had to fall into a fit of laughter as Dante started spinning his coat on the air only to throw it away dramatically, going back to his best Saturday Night Fever dance. You didn’t know if you wanted to melt through the floor into oblivion from embarrassment or if you wanted to get into the challenge. Therefore, laughing was the only choice available, really.

You had to note, though, that the embarrassment only came from having an audience – you could still hear the imps arguing and wondered if they would end up killing each other in disagreement – because if you were both alone at the Devil May Cry… Dante would have the dance-off of a lifetime after that taunt.

“Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother, you’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” You decided, even if feeling a little awkward, to mirror Dante’s dancing – pointing at him while singing, finally strutting towards your red devil.

You had your whole life to kill demons – dancing with your lover, though, was a lot more important in your book.

“Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’, and we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” Dante pointed back at you, ready to meet you in the middle. Those lyrics, though, they were quite fitting to both of you – with everything you had to go through on a daily basis, somehow, you always remained alive. Together.

There was some kind of poetry in that. At least in Dante’s point of view.

As the famous riff sang its lyrics, you finally reached each other, starting a perfectly synchronized choreography you both invented during a boring afternoon at the shop – which ended up being not so boring after all. With you dancing while perfectly mirroring him, Dante couldn’t help but have the brightest and most delighted smile on his lips – his face lighting up like the sun, barely noticing he was laughing from enjoying that moment.

The most mirroring he ever got was from a shadow doppelganger at the Temen-ni-gru – and that thing was hell bent on killing him with his own powers and tricks. Now dancing? That was a first. Something he had only seen on movies like Footloose or Grease, something he thought he would only have in the realm of daydreams. Oh, how he loved turning those into reality with you.

“Ready…” Of course, you both were very much aware you weren’t alone - the imps weren't as subtle as they thought they were. Your lives were made mostly of stolen moments like that, but it was something you would never complain about. Better to have those moments than to have nothing at all – and the imps were about to steal it away from you. Looking into those sky-blue eyes, you saw Dante’s typical spark and his smart smile on his lips, winking at you as soon as he understood what your eyes were saying. “NOW! ATTACK!”

“I’m stayin’ alive!” You and Dante sang out loud – if you could call that kind of shouting singing – as you spun on the colorful floor, taking one of your guns from your holsters. You ended up with your backs to each other, your arm by his arm, pointing the guns at the demons at the same time. “Let’s rock!”

The imps expected everything but the rain of bullets. They planned a massive attack, all of them at the same time, and still you and Dante made their forces seem like nothing but a wave of hungry mosquitoes during summer – and that because you were each holding only one of your guns.

They could barely get near you before realizing they wouldn’t be able to make it in one piece. The attack was a failure and the best option they had – for those left alive anyway – was to run. You and Dante kept shooting, hitting bullseye with every quick shot. They first screamed as a battle roar, but now they screeched in terror, fleeing from every broken door and window of the Disco – until there were only you and the red devil left.

“Well, guess we showed ‘em a lesson.” You sighed, relief washing down your spine while you put your gun back into its holster. Dante did the same, but you barely waited for him to look back to you. “Thanks for the rescue, cowboy. It was worthy of Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out For a Hero.”

“Ah, don’t mention it…” But you cut his dismissive words short with a kiss.

It was intended to be a quick kiss – the types of kisses you would always use to shut him up whenever Dante started self-deprecating or playing down how much he was worth – but soon you wanted more. Stepping closer to him, you didn’t let his lips go, resting your hands on his chest while Dante, even if surprised at first, immediately laid his on your hips. The song was still going, and you both still had the fire to keep dancing, but you could take a few moments to enjoy that kiss with more heart than you intended at first.

You had every intention, though, to keep it going for as long as you could – Dante’s lips were too wonderful to be half-appreciated – but as Stayin’ Alive found its last chords, another song seamlessly started to let its golden beats and delightful guitar color the place with new rhythms and notes. Apparently, the DJ imp had figured out how to keep the whole collection of disco songs playing – and you couldn’t complain about that.

“Hey…” You parted the kiss abruptly, mirroring Dante’s smile from also recognizing the song. “It’s our song, cowboy!”

You held Dante’s hand, pulling him even further into the dance floor, while he let his head hang back with a laugh at the words he never thought he would hear in that damned life of his. Stepping closer to you, he spun you around only to catch you in his arms, dancing together the same way you used to dance at the Devil May Cry – you both giggling and singing to each other.

“Do you remember? The 21st night of September?” Oh, yes. September. The song that wrapped you both in golden dreams and shiny days – the song Dante would always run to you to have you in his arms while singing, the one you would always search his hands to hold while dancing. The one Dante never thought he would be able to have with someone else.

Dante couldn’t have another entire lifetime with you, but he could have that one – and even better than that: you could have that song together. Your song.

He could get used to the sound of that alright.

[nerdylizj]

Katara feels safest by the sea. It might be because she’s a waterbender, though she’s not sure that tells the whole story. The truth is, she decides while standing on the deck of a stolen Fire Nation ship under the half moon, quite simple. Katara is safest by the sea because the tide is reliable. The tide doesn’t die. The tide doesn’t leave her behind. The tide, Katara knows, is a work of permanence and impermanence. Marks in the sand are washed away. Seashells are gifted to the shore. Give, take. Push, pull. But never, ever: truth, lie. 

read chapter 9 or start chapter 1

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Zhou Zishu is ready to be done with Tian Chuang. He's ready for his seventh nail, and ready to wander before facing his eighty one brothers with a bowed head in the afterlife. He will do this after, apparently, one last mission that's simply too intriguing to pass up. The Ghost Valley has sent a letter past its borders, asking to attend the Heroes Conference of the Five Lakes Alliance. The Five Lakes Alliance, unbelievably, has accepted. Both no doubt have hidden intentions, and Prince Jin wants eyes and ears on the scene. Zhou Zishu can't quite bring himself to deny his own ravenous curiosity enough not to accept. The stunning beauty that shows up with the girls of the Department of the Unfaithful, the one who introduces himself as Wen Kexing, is universally assumed to be a favorite plaything of the yet unseen Ghost Valley Master. His beauty and charm may be enough to captivate all the others into underestimating him, but Zhou Zishu knows a killer's eyes when he sees one. Wen Kexing is a puzzle he'd like to figure out, and Zishu himself can't say he isn't also captivated by dark eyes and a smile that wouldn't be out of place with blood in its teeth.

Author: jaemyun

[the-frostiest-of-flakes]

12 1/2 Cents Per Monkee

Fandom: The Monkees | Characters: Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz, Mike Nesmith, Peter Tork, Reader, Original Male Character(s) Word Count: 1209 | Warnings: None | [Read on AO3] Summary: The Monkees get sold to Y/N for fifty cents. A/N: This was inspired by this post from @asurrogateblog

---

Bob Lagerhead was in a bind.

And not just any old bind, oh no.  It was quite the hogtie he’d gotten himself into, all because he had been too successful.

You see, it wasn’t every day a man of zero talents struck gold.  But it turned out you didn’t need talent for the fastest money maker in the world; scamming.  And it was easy!  A little small talk here, unbreakable contract there, and you could sell an act without ever spending a dime.  Thanks to his dubiously ethical schemes, Bob had been living the good life for the past year.

But now it seemed his luck was running out.

“I’ve run out of magicians to trick,” he lamented, fingers fiddling with the coffee cup in his hands as he sat outside a cafe.  “Where on Earth am I going to find a different breed of sucker?”

“You have to stop falling for those old lady crossing the street scams, Peter,” came a distinctly southern voice.  Bob’s head whipped up, eyes locking on a group of four young men making their way down the sidewalk.  The one that had spoken was tall and lanky, with large, black sideburns.

“But helping old ladies is the right thing to do!” Said one with light brown hair.  He must have been Peter.

The shortest of the group shook his head.  “Yeah, but every time you help them you end up with empty pockets.”

Ah, now there were some suckers.  If only he had an angle.

He was beginning to tune them out when he heard the tall one say, “Come on guys, we gotta get back so we can practice that new song.”

Musicians!  They were musicians!  Spiel already locked and loaded, Bob scrambled in front of them.  “Excuse me, gentlemen!  I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re trained in the arts!”

The one with curly hair furrowed his brow.  “What?”

Bob’s wide grin chipped, but his resolve only bolstered.  “A band.  You’re a band, yes?”

“Oh!”  All four nodded, gesturing to each other as understanding set in.

“A band—”

“Yes—”

“We’re The Monkees.”

“Yep, that’s us!”

Bob clapped his hands together.  “Wonderful!  I don’t suppose you four already have a manager, do you?”

The tall one frowned.  “Well, no—”

“How have you even made it this far?!  Don’t you know it’s downright dangerous to be a band without a manager these days?” He put up a hand as the boys opened their mouths, killing their words before they had a chance to live.  “Well, it’s your lucky day!  I just so happen to be a manager in search of a band like yours.  But you have to act fast with these things — you never know when another act could come stealing your manager out from under your noses.”

”Well, what do we have to do?” Peter asked.

“Oh, nothing hard or time consuming!  You just have to sign a contract.  And I just so happen to have one right…” Bob rummaged through the inside pockets of his jacket, whipping out a very legal, totally binding piece of paper.  “Here!”

“But we don’t have a—” The short one faltered as Bob pulled out several pens in the blink of an eye.  “…Pen.”

“Not to fear!  I always keep one handy — there’s never a second to spare, after all.”

The tall one butted in, “I’m sorry to interrupt, mister—”

“Lagerhead, Bob Lagerhead.”

“Right.  Well, mister Lagerhead, I guess I just don’t see why there’s such a hurry on this.  Don’t we need time to read over the contract and all that?”

The others nodded, backing away from the outstretched pen.  And dang it, he was losing them.  Maybe they had a brain cell between the four of them after all.

Mind racing, desperate for a plan, Bob straightened as people across the street came into his peripheral vision.  “Well!  Your chance is slipping right out of your fingers before your very eyes, and all you can think about is reading the fine print?  I can’t tell you what to do, but my heart breaks for the opportunities you’re throwing away.  See, I already have another group right over there begging for me to be their manager.  I wanted to give you boys a fair chance, but if you want to throw it away, then fine by me!”

“Wait!  Wait!” They cried as he began sauntering across the street.  They dashed in front of him, crowding around.  Before he could even speak, they were ripping the pen from his hands and signing the contract.

Bob Lagerhead’s bind was as good as gone.

You ran your fingers over the fifty cents in your pocket, eyes roaming over the various products sitting in shop windows.  Pretty dresses and suits, the newest, shiniest children’s toys, candy of all flavors, the list went on.  But you were looking for something new.   Something special.

Fortunately, fate decided to hit you square in the face with it.

Spluttering, you ripped the poster off your face, brushing your hair back even as the wind continued to whip it around.  You frowned down at the text staring up at you.

BAND FOR SALE $0.50 CALL 123-SUCKERSALES FOR INQUIRY

A smile spread across your face.  This was certainly new and special.

It was perfect.

“I think there’s been some kinda mistake,” Mike said, following Bob Lagerhead as he oversaw the crew packing up all the instruments.  “See, those are our instruments, and we — well, we’d like ‘em to stay right there.”

“And I’d like to be a millionaire.  But unfortunately, you lot aren’t worth that much.”

“Hey, hey, my drums!”  Micky bolted down the stairs, wrestling his snare away from one of the workers.  “What’s the big idea?”

Bob slapped him on the back, sending Micky stumbling forwards.  ”You boys are getting a change of scenery!”

“You booked us someplace new?” Peter asked, he and Davy joining the group.

Mike snatched his guitar from one of the crew.  “New or not I think we’d prefer to pack up our own instruments.”

“No, no, no, I didn’t book you a gig.”

“Then what are we paying you for?”  Micky looked him up and down, hugging the snare tighter to his chest.

“You’re not.”  Bob motioned to the door.  “They are.”

In walked someone they had never seen before, a smile on the person’s face as their wide, eager eyes roamed the space, eventually landing on them.  The person waved.  “Hi!  You guys must be the band.  The Monkees, right?”

“Yes,” Mike began, drawl carefully slow, “but who are you?”

“I’m Y/N!  I bought you guys the other day.”

“Bought?!” Micky parroted, face screwing up in horror.

“Now— now hold on a minute,” Davy sputtered.  “We didn’t get any money, so how could you have bought us?”

“Because you’re just the product, boys.”  Bob’s grin grew wide as he walked out the door.  “And I’m the seller.”

The door clicked shut, leaving the four Monkees and Y/N to stare at each other as the instruments continued to be packed up around them.

Y/N shifted, hands fiddling with each other.  “So…can you guys play any jazz?”

A great, internal sigh weighed heavily within them.  This was going to be a long day.

[liadantaru]

The Young Masters of Four Seasons Manor by gaotamao

Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi were meant to destroy the dark cultivation that Wen RuoHan had begun through the use of the yin shards. They were destined to be immortals practising both yin and yang energy to keep the magic of the cultivation world in check. But they died horribly because of greed and betrayal, their souls shattered to never be reincarnated again. However, Fate could not allow it because without them, all hell could be emptied out into the world of the living within a thousand years. Fate turned time back twenty-three years. The problem was, nobody has had a chance to drink the soup of forgetfulness. So, when the memories in the form of nightmares became unbearable, Fate led little Lan Zhan and Wei Ying to Wen KeXing and Zhou ZiShu.

There is a JGS redemption in the last chapter. If you don't want to read this skip the last chapter. It's fine.

[princeofuchiha]

The pain of having to close out a fic and save it for tomorrow bc your damn ✨️flesh vessel✨️ needs ✨️subsistence✨️ and ✨️energy✨️ like yeah okay whatever universe fuck me then ig

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

😊🥰👽

👽 a fic that isn’t prose (poetry, text fic, etc.)

woahg what a cool question 0:

rhymesswith‘s WOH modern setting Cat!ZZS AU comic strips

rhymesswith's WOH Ladyhawke AU specifically this part of it! (masterpost with context in chronogical order)

you already know this but annannjay's iwtw WOH republican era shanghai AU that still has me be wildly insane

bardorable's WOH canon compliant introspective wen kexing poem Entropic Notions

megafaunatic's modern TYK setting comic of zzs throwing a birthday party!

😊 a fic that made you smile on a bad day

this wouldve been much harder to answer but fOrtUnaTely [at the time of writing this] im having a bad mental health month .. phase ,, time! (laughcrysob) [it's been a few i'm fine now!]

i‘d always been rigid before you by thehoundisdead. The Untamed modern au, wangxian, gender changes, wlw, identity shenanigans, texting, food as a gateway for love, university, light angst, misunderstandings, G. wei ying flirts with the driver who delivers her food orders via text, not knowing who they are, and it has no connection at all to lan zhan, her classmate! i love this little fic. its fun and silly and sweet and makes me go all warm inside, its exactly what i need when im down. i remember that u dont prefer school fics but maybe u like this??? there is not much serious school stuff happening there aside from the opportunity for wei ying to flirt with lan zhan since theyre classmates

no one understands the chemistry we have by livinginaworldofnoise. WOH, wenzhou, modern au, story told in posts, G. wen kexing tries to woe the most handsome man in the world. zhou zishu needs advice to get rid of a weird creep. these things are not at all related, why would u think that! its been a few weeks but i read this when i was having an extremely bad night and it lifted my spirits!!!!!! livinginaworldofnoise is one of my fav fandom authors, theyre so good at balancing rawness with humour. and i like how this fic transplants wkx from canon to a modern setting and shifts into an outsider‘s pov (the reddit community, this is told in posts), which automatically removes any context that would explain his Behaviour and Attitudes. i mean, wkx is actually disturbing! if u dont know why he is the way he is agdgdgdg

🥰 a fic that gives you warm fuzzy feelings!!

hey girl (you are what i've been looking for) by detectorist. The Untamed, MDZS, modern au, wangxian, background niehuan. gender changes (EVERYONE is a lesbian except for jiang cheng, who is the token gay man), wlw, house parties, drunk kissing, chaotic friend groups, casual queerness, T. wei ying and lan zhan meet on a house party the jins are hosting. sparks fly. highly recommend to read this together with its sequel!

the only place you wanna be by aiyexayen. WOH canon divergence/fix-it, gu xiang/wen kexing/zhou zishu, background wenzhou, four seasons manor arc, multiple pov, gu xiang-centric, introspection, non-sexual intimacy, hurt/comfort, angst, found family, rarepairings, polyships, M. zhou zishu has a problem, and its just as annoying and confusing as wen kexing. gu xiang realizes that the lao bing gui her zhuren keeps following around might be a little bit good-looking. wen kexing rearranges his perspective of what it means to him to care for his silly little girl. while they all live at four seasons manor, things develop. this fic single-handledly changed my brain chemistry! and the dynamics are so warm and so gah!!!! also aiyex shared a little of the bts process of working on it here!!!!!

ask me for a fic rec meme <3

[mistyfrostflower]

For the WIP folder asks, can you share about ll coffee shop au and sx breakup? Also maybe merman aa meeting!

Of course!

ll coffee shop au: Song Lan/Lan Xichen. Hurt/comfort, falling in love

Song Lan is struggling over the very recent death of his boyfriend, Xiao Xingchen. It had been coming as Xingchen had been sick, but even knowing he had been dying, had not given Song Lan the time to deal with it. Its onlg been a month.

He works mutliple jobs, needing to stay busy. He's not doing well, doing the bare minimum to take care of himself. He hardly sleeps and he hasn't had a full meal since Xingchen passed. He's thin and haggard. Even Xingchen's younger siblings (his sister lives with Song Lan) cannot help him and are unable to even make him wat a meal.

In the mornings, he works at a coffee shop as a Barista. Its a small shop so there is only ever just him at the counter. 

Lan Xichen has only just come out of a three year long seclusion. He lost his husband to a car accident and had locked himself away to deal with his grief and guilt. 

Due to his brother and brother-in-law worrying over him so much, he had decided to try and open up again. 

He begins to go back to the office to work instead of working virtually. 

Every morning he goes to get himself a fancy little tea or coffee, as a treat and a reward for leaving his home. 

When he meets Song Lan for the first time, he just KNOWS. He can see it in the exhaustion in his face, the sadness. Xichen has gone through it all.

He worries a bit as even he hadn't gotten to the point that this man was at, ghastly thin and looking like he hadn't slept.

Despite his own pain and mourning, Xichen begins to care for Song Lan. He let's himself focus on the younger man, bringing him vitamins and homemade soups. It helps him adjust as he now has something to focus on, someone to care for.

Song Lan begins to open up, almost immediately. Lan Xichen has a gentleness to him that reminds him of Xiao Xingchen, a caring nature and kind disposition. He starts to find reason in life as Xichen comes to have lunches with him and takes him to the park for picnic dinners so they can watch the sun set. 

It will be a comforting and healing story where both men learn to overcome their grief with each other and learn to love again after such great loss. 

sx breakup: SongXiao. Angst. Modern au.

Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen's relationahip is strained. Song Lan works long hours and often doesn't even come home. He wants to give his husband a bwtter life, so he works hard to do so.

Xingchen feels neglected. He would rather have Song Lan home with him than working. He allows a coworker to shower him in the affection his husband will not (compliments, flowers, nothing physical) and brings home a bouquet of roses to show Song Lan that he deserves these thinfs and that others will give them to him if he won't).

They have their first real fight and due to miscommunication on both sides, and they end up breaking off their engagement. Here is a little exceprt:

Song Lan’s head hurt. His chest was aching. “Why are we even doing this anymore Xingchen-? You… You obviously aren’t happy anymore- If you wanted to break up, you could have just said so- I would… I won’t stop you…” Song Lan was trembling. His ears were ringing and his lungs burned. Why am I saying this? The man felt like he was too late. He had already lost Xingchen and his affections. He knew he had been working too much but he was trying to get a promotion in his company. He wanted to give them a more secure future, to allow Xingchen to work less so he could spend more time on his hobbies. Song Lan felt like a fool. 

Xingchen’s eyes hardened and he grimaced at the other man. “All you had to do was tell me that you were done with me! Don’t make it seem like this is my decision- If you don’t want me, then I won’t stay, Zichen. You only take me out for our anniversary or holidays- You only tell me you love me when you’re on business trips! You…” Xingchen swallowed, looking away from the man he had wanted to spend his future with. “I know what I’m worth, Zichen-” Xingchen felt his heart breaking. I want him to love me the way he did when we were younger. “You just stay with me because its easier than breaking up-”

“Xingchen, that’s not true!” Song Lan was trying to force himself to move but he felt frozen in place. “I love you! I never stopped! Please, can we just talk about this?” 

“I’m done talking about this, Zichen…” Xingchen had turned away from Song Lan and walked over to their closet, pulling his suitcase from the top shelf. “You act jealous when another man gives me attention but I guarantee that you’ll forget about me while you pursue your damn job-”

merman aa meeting: WenZhou - Wen Kexing/Zhou ZIshu (Word of Honor/TYK/SHL). Crackfic, meet cute(?), comfort, comedy, modern fantasy au, alcohol and drunkness mentioned

This takes place in a fantasy version of our modern world.

Zhou Zishu is a mer, much like in Luca (has legs and a tail, can become human out of water). He had first left the ocean to get away from the pain caused by the deaths of his entire family. Humans. Pollution. He was the last of his bloodline alive and that was too much for him to handle. 

He discovered human alcohol after overhearing fisherman talk about its numbing effects and quickly becomes an alcoholic.

Months pass this way and he is making bad life decision after bad life decision. Then, he is forced to go to Alcoholic Anonymous meetings by an old friend, Han Ying.

At these meetings, he meets a elven man that much like him, has been dealt a bad card at life. Wen Kexing, the prince of his kingdom; is miserable and his only reason for living is to get revenge on the human emperor that had killed his father. He goes to the AA meeting because he is trying to gather information on one of the Emperor's knights. Meeting Zhou Zishu just happens to give him something to live for and he is determined to help the mer stop his drinking habit and turn his life around.

There is only a few paragraphs of plot written so I do not have an excerprt for this, It has been in my drafts since 2023.

[purplemoonabove]

Beautiful, an Angel Dust x Husker/Husk One-Shot

One chapter only

Wrote it as a writing prompt – “Beautiful”

Inspired by that romantic scene in Fresh Prince. When Philip was describing how beautiful Vivian (the first one) was, the two standing in front of a body mirror. Such a beautiful scene if you haven’t seen it yet!

Light uses of swearing/cursing

Husk’s POV

.

.

.

Beautiful.

It was the first word that popped in his mind.

He would deny it out loud in avoid embarrassment, but in his mind, the truth was loud and clear.

He looked beautiful — He is beautiful.

A part of him then thought of a funny: how a common drug name, used currently for an adult film stage name, can also be how it was done.

Angel.

Dust.

A blessing from an unknown substance that’d be an irritation but actually owned an effect upon physical contact. No allergies, no congestion, no skin damages. He wasn’t sure if the latter would be possible. Decades in the current life and appearance made human skin a shedded layer for a new type to grow and life with. Angel was no different, even with multiple arms and eyes and owning a venom that was rarely exposed through a bite.

It was, as if, an amplification to the actor.

Keeping him as beautiful as he may have been when alive in his new demonic form.

Could he even call him demonic? Is ‘demon’ even a good term to describe? Before it’d be an annoyance – a mask that hid the true spider man’s nature – but now was a new direction: being a proud loser like himself.

Just more beautiful, at that.

“Kitty~”

Even his voice was beautiful, the thought expressed before blinking a return to reality. The spider sat upon his stool by his multi-lit vanity table. His breath-taking, neon-colored heterochromia eyes gazed with curiosity and humor towards him.

He smirked, the golden tooth sticking out.

“Like what you see~?”

Such a skill in teasing and enticing someone to be in his temperate possession was an act Husk would always avoid – in the past. With a soft chuckle, he rose from sitting at the side of the bed to go over.

“Can you blame me?” He returned, not even denying him. Not this time, ever since the new change of relation.

Angel giggled then waved a spared hand. “Nah, I know I’m gorgeous.”

The smirk stayed as he resumed on his powder work at the cheek. Only to waver in further curiosity, his hand slowing to a stop as clawed hands laid and held in a gentle touch on his shoulders.

Golden eyes stared at the pink through the mirror’s reflection, connected as the winged cat lowered his head.

“You’re much more than that,” Husk purred in his ear. Reaction was immediate: the back straightened, his eyes widened, a hint of red came under the furred cheeks, and the powder puff laid correctly in the container without notice.

Fucking cute.

“I see a young man right before my very eyes, who made it impossible to compare. Sweet fluff of fresh snow, with a gazing of melted pink diamonds to form such hearts. Eyes so breathlessly hypnotic through emotions and appearance. Hands to hold more than expected, feeling the love and care in every grasp. And a smile… Oh, that beautiful smile that brings just a little bit of color into this red, dark world.”

“Fuck.”

Angel broke away, turning to hide but Husk can easily see behind the covering hand the growth of said smile and redness that became a line over his nose.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

Angel didn’t turn, wanting to lower his head to hide under the table.

“Husk–”

One hand released the shoulder to grab the closest cheek, carefully turning until the red and bashful spider made contact to his reflection again.

Husk smiled, and whispered his repeat.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

The request was short-lived when Angel’s eyes shut tight.

“Argh!”

It was the only warning before Husk felt slightly winded, then adjusted with a chuckle as the spider pressed his make-up face into his bare, fluffy torso. The four arms wrapped about him as they would when cuddling, only with a grip due to the embarrassment.

“I like grumpy Husk better!” Angel complained into his chest, muffling. “I’m not used to this shit! When did you get all ‘romantified’ or some shit?!”

Husk release a long laugh that vibrated his being. One clawed hand gentle raked through the massive hair, already washed and combed before.

“I think I’ve always had it when alive and all,” he confessed, then shrugged. “Guess there was no reason for me to do it again when dead… until now.”

The arms tightened. Husk smiled.

“Do you want me to stop?” He then asked, the raking at a pause for the answer.

“… No…”

The hand moved towards the chin, lifting Angel’s pouting and red face.

Such a precious gem you are. I’m so lucky.

“So beautiful.”

Angel scrunched up his nose, the red practically burning. “Husky!”

Future complaining was forgotten once Husk sealed their lips for a well-deserved kiss. Relaxation being instant, Angel’s top arms went to wrap around his neck while the bottom two stayed put, but loosened during. With Angel soon getting up, Husk got his own arms to wrap at the small waist, their bodies held close with no desire of letting go.

At a moment of oblivious time, their lips eventually pulled away, but allowed a brushing at contact.

There, Angel whispered with a content smile.

“Thank you, Husk.”

…

I can’t get enough of these two. Weeks of them and I can’t stop! 😍

[thecreatorfromgallifrey]

VERY IMPORTANT NEWS, THREE LITTLE WORDS HAS A FOURTH WORK !!

AND IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

All the King's Horses and all the King's Men (aka The Xie'er Deserves the World Fic)

Chapter 5: Frosty Peace

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Xie Wang & Jing Beiyuan, Xie Wang & Zhang Chengling, Xie Wang & Wu Xi, Xie Wang & Ye Baiyi, Minor Jing Beiyuan/Wu Xi - Relationship Characters: Xie Wang, Jing Beiyuan, Zhang Chengling, Wu Xi, Ye Baiyi Additional Tags: Post Drama Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Mentions of past rape and dubious consent, mentions of child grooming, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse, Panic Attacks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Contains some elements from the Qi Ye/Lord Seventh novel

Chapter summary: Xie Wang and Zhang Chengling clash.

Hi everyone! ♥

As promised in my recent general fic status post, here is chapter 5 which I was originally going to keep as a buffer, but decided to post now. 🙈

As always, many thanks to my wonderful betas @byallaccountsitdoesntmakesense and @animanganerd for their support on this fic. ♥

Hope you enjoy! ♥

PS: Reminder that this fic has a Spotify playlist! ♥

[sysiumblue]

En Pointe

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company

Fandom: Haikyuu

Ship: Kuroo/Ken

Rating: T

Tags: Angst, rejection

The rehearsal studio smelled like perfume and sweat. Kenma’s hands were trembling against the barre, knuckles white, trying not to cry.

“You weren’t supposed to take the role,” he said, voice a half-gone whisper.

Kuroo didn’t respond at first. He stood by the center mark, hair tousled from the practice. The light hit him perfectly. Principal dancer. Star of the show.

“You dropped out, Kenma,” he said finally. It sounded like an excuse.

“I sprained my ankle. I told the director I’d be back in two weeks at most. It wasn’t permanent.” Kenma turned around. His cat eyes sharp as the cuts in their pas de deux. “You told me you’d cover for me, not replace me.”

Kuroo looked down, jaw clenching. “The gala’s in six days. They needed someone.”

“They needed you, apparently.” He spit. The air between them crackled. 

Kenma took a step forward. A jolt shot through his joints. He wasn’t supposed to be dancing yet, but he’d been practicing alone. Hidden. Waiting for his return to the stage where he belonged. But this was wrong. It was supposed to be with Kuroo. “You could’ve said no.” Tears ebbed at the corners of his eyes.

“I couldn’t,” Kuroo said, swallowing. “You don’t get it, Kenma. This isn’t like before. They were going to pull the entire piece if they didn’t have a name. I thought…”

“What? That I’d be okay with you dancing our routine with someone else?”

‘It’s not like that.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Kuroo moved toward him, but Kenma backed away.

“I trusted you,” Kenma said again, softer this time, like a ghost speaking from beyond. “Out of everyone in this company, you. You were supposed to be on my side.”

Kuroo ruffled, “I am on your side, goddammit!”

“Then why does it feel like I’ve been pushed offstage?” The silence returned, heavier now. Harsher.

Kuroo reached out, his hand hovering over Kenma’s shoulder. So close to touching, but not daring to make contact. “I didn’t want to lose it,” he said. “The piece. Us. I thought if I could keep it alive until you were ready-”

“You killed it,” Kenma said, full tears spilling over “Because now every time I hear that music, I won’t think of us. I’ll think of you and her.”

Kuroo flinched. “I just wanted to protect it,” he whispered.

Kenma looked at him for a long moment. Then, finally, stepped forward and rested his forehead against Kuroo’s shoulder. “You can’t protect something by pretending it doesn’t hurt,” he said, voice cracking. “Next time... just dance with me. Or not at all.”

Kuroo wrapped his arms around him, tentative, guilty. “Next time,” he promised.

[lunarriviera]

fourth autumn [wenzhou, 15k, E]

fourth autumn (15185 words) by lunarriviera fandom: 山河令 | Word of Honor (TV 2021), 天涯客 | Faraway Wanderers - priest rating: E warnings: graphic depictions of violence relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu characters: Zhang Chengling, Wu Xi tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Tian Chuang (Faraway Wanderers), Siji Manor, Ghost Valley (Faraway Wanderers), Wuxia, Blood and Violence, Former Assassin Zhou Zishu, With A Twist, Post-Canon, Not Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending

It is a trap, and Zhou Zishu knows it; it's the precise kind he had set himself, before, when Tian Chuang wanted to threaten someone discreetly, with a minimum of attention. They want Wen Kexing alive because they know Zhou Zishu will give chase. They want Zhou Zishu alive because they want him back. And he does not intend to give them the pleasure of his company a third time.

Zhou Zishu has become an arrow, single-pointed. It's a place inside himself he has never wanted to venture into, again, but for one person, and one person only, he will do it.

“I’m looking for Wen Kexing.”

[cosmic-starfall]

Rating: Explixit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Categories: F/M, M/M

Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu, Cao Weining/Gu Xiang, Wen Kexing & Zhang Chengling & Zhou Zishu, Gu Xiang & Wen Kexing, Gu Xiang & Wen Kexing & Zhang Chengling & Zhou Zishu, Gao Xiaolian & Gu Xiang

Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Gu Xiang, Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, Gao Xiaolian

Summary:

Zhou Zishu already had a doomsday bunker when the zombie virus hit. But after living in isolation for months, he makes the ill-advised decision to let a strange man who stalked him home live with him.

Or

WenZhou and their pack of adopted kids live in a bunker together during a zombie apocalypse.

I'm tagging everyone who hyped up the original au post with tags about how they wanted to see it, hope y'all don't mind:

@sirenofthegreenbanks @cryptidafter @calamity-talvi

[tiredassmage]

16 and/or 19 from the kiss prompts for whichever character inspires you when you get around to it :D

I very, very badly needed to write a little something and I have had the idea for this one for ages, but now!!! It's finally here!!!!! I thought this one would be really, really cute to do something a lil more established-like for @captainderyn's Mor and our silly lil agent, Squishy! I need to do so much more with them!!! So, here's a lil start on doing just that, hopefully <3

[From Fictional Kiss Prompts] //

Ahdrasteia’s brow furrowed as her teeth worried against her bottom lip. She’d been nearly tomb statue stiff for approximately three minutes and counting, and that frown on her thinned lips (for once clear of the smoky black polish that usually coated them) was only sinking deeper.

And Mor was struggling valiantly against the urge to stick a hand out and… do something about it. Knock a few of those errant puzzle pieces on the floor, make shadow skar’klas on the walls - anything to break that laser-focused edge hardwired into the operative sat across from her. The first, however, was likely to draw her ire, which was unintended, and the second was… Well, likely to go unnoticed, at this point. Though… it’d be fun.

Ahdrasteia exhaled sharply through her nose as she cautiously prodded yet another mismatched piece. “Mor-”

Ridiculous how hearing just that little syllable made her heart nearly leap out of her chest and across the table right then and there. Mor cocked her head - grateful the dimmed red glow of her agent’s cybernetics was still focused distinctly downward at the table. It saved her from trying to fight the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks even still.

“I think we’re missing a few pieces.” Ahdrasteia frowned as she leaned back on legs she’d tucked up underneath her in her seat. Her red glow briefly intensified another moment as she scanned the tabletop. The lighting on Mor's ship wasn't always so great for locating escaping little puzzle pieces, but it was far kinder on cybernetics and headaches than the blue-toned glow on Intelligence vessels.

An amused grin sprawled across Mor’s lips, though she threw a glance at the chrono on the nightstand. “I think they’ll turn up, Squishy.”

A tiny little snort issued from the agent. “I don’t suppose you lost any of them.”

Before Mor could even pretend to narrow her eyes in mock offense, a smile was creeping at the edges of Ahdrasteia’s lips as she straightened her back. Mor’s eyes narrowed even as a laugh tumbled out of her. It was like her little agent was proud of herself - and wringing the jest out of her usually tight jaw might just have been worth it.

Might’ve even beat winning the Great Hunt. “My job’s finding, if you’ve forgotten.”

Ahdrasteia giggled, though a hand still came up to try to cover her lips now. “Are you supposed to be my hero then? If you can find those little pieces-”

Mor pushed herself out of her seat and leaned down to press a kiss right between those sharp brows. True to form, a squeak of surprise still slipped out of Ahdrasteia, and even in the dim ship light, Mor could still tell her cheeks flushed as pink as the blush she wore.

And that little furrow was back in her brow as she turned an indignant pout upon the hunter over her. “You did that on purpose-!”

“Make it up to you with shadow skar’klas?” Mor opened her arms and waggled her fingers promisingly. Ahdrasteia frowned at her a moment longer. “I don’t think any of the puzzle pieces are gonna grow legs overnight.”

Squishy’s nose wrinkled just a touch more. “They might if you give them any,” she mumbled before she finally scooted in her seat and reached up to wrap her arms around Mor’s neck, letting the hunter scoop her up and toe her seat back in out of the way behind them.

“I’ll find them before we dock again,” Mor assured.

“Promise?”

Maybe. Hopefully. Perhaps if she was quiet enough, she could scour the lower deck before she woke up… Her agent was still such a light sleeper.

“Promise.”