#yes that’s Spade’s severed hand from months ago

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

A life worth living:

Niragi x reader

Requested: Before Borderlands, Y/N and Niragi were close, but during the King of Spades' attack, the reader is gravely injured.

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"If only everything had stayed as it was. If we were still at The Beach, or back home. Yes. I wish we were home. Or at school. Maybe we could still be at school. That's where everything began to unravel, wasn’t it? When those boys first harassed him in that alley behind the school. When they attacked him with baseball bats for the first time. Or maybe it was when they took his textbooks and rolled them through the mud. I couldn't even remember... If only... if only everything had stayed the same..."

Y/N felt the searing pain in her abdomen long before she heard the gunshot. By then, the blood was already flowing freely from the wound, threatening to end her life. She had collapsed to the ground when her legs gave way, scraping her knees against the rough asphalt. She hadn’t even noticed it, and now, lying there on the cold ground, her hands pressed desperately against her abdomen, all she could think of was him.

Niragi had been her confidant, her friend, her refuge. He had been everything to her, and in her selfishness, she liked to believe she had been everything to him, too.

She gazed up at the blue sky, not a cloud in sight. She squinted against the blinding sunlight, its heat warming her skin, though perhaps it was the blood that was bathing her body in warmth.

Niragi had been with her in her darkest moments, and she had been with him in his. By fate, or perhaps coincidence, they had found a shoulder to lean on during the bleakest chapters of their lives. And then, when life finally began to smile on them again, they were hesitant to sever that bond. They had stayed in touch during the early months of their university years. Maybe it was the distance, or their conflicting schedules, but inevitably, their connection had cooled. Though... upon reflection, perhaps it was also because of Chishiya. But that was much later, wasn’t it?

Y/N brought one bloodstained hand to her forehead, attempting to rearrange the fragments of her memories. Thick red liquid trailed down her cheek.

Yes, Chishiya came later, after arriving to Borderlands.

The day the people of Tokyo vanished, the day she played the deadliest game of hide-and-seek of her life, was the day she met him. That man with white hair and a hood, more intelligent than the rest, with an aura of mystery that stirred something deep within her. Oh! It was also the day she ran into Niragi again. She remembered it as it was yesterday, though weeks had passed. Months? Perhaps even years? Yet, it was all so vivid, so clear. He was so... different.

He was no longer the Niragi she had left behind years ago in high school. This one wore piercings and had a sharp tongue. Of course, he melted when he saw her.

Y/N stifled a small laugh at the memory, which was quickly drowned by a cough and a sharp, stabbing pain in her stomach.

Niragi had stared at her as if seeing a ghost. She recalled how he grabbed her wrist, nearly dragging her without hesitation to his room, and there… there, he embraced her. A hug she had waited years for, one reserved only for someone very special.

She closed her eyes. She could still feel that embrace, still remember the sensation, his scent... she could almost feel it again now.

"Y/N! Y/N! No, no, no—don’t fall asleep! Don’t close your eyes!"

She could even hear his voice.

"Y/N, damn it! Look at me! Look at me!"

It was so cruel, so perversely cruel of fate, that in what she was certain was her deathbed, her thoughts uncontrollably turned to him. To his voice, his scent, his very essence.

A smile tugged at her lips, and suddenly, the pain in her abdomen seemed almost insignificant. Was this what it felt like to die? If Niragi were here, he’d call her stupid. He would say it in that irritable, frustrated tone of his, the same one he used when explaining math homework in high school and she couldn’t understand a thing. But wait, why would he call her stupid? She didn’t want to die, not willingly… So why had she jumped in front of that bullet? No. She hadn’t jumped. She had run. She had run and pushed someone else aside. She… she had thrown herself in the path of the bullet. In the path of the bullet… meant for whom?

"Y/N, I swear, if you die now, I will never forgive you. Do you hear me? Never!"

Niragi.

It was almost as if some otherworldly force compelled her to open her eyes, and there, eclipsing the sun, was a face, contorted in anguish, backlit by its harsh light.

“That’s it, Y/N. Open your eyes. Open them! I’m here, I’m with you… You’re so stupid, do you know that? What the hell were you doing jumping in front of that bullet? It was meant for me! You are so damn stupid!"

Y/N stretched out one trembling hand, trying to touch the face that hovered over her. Her arm felt weak, as though it could hardly bear the effort, but she needed to touch him, to feel him, to be sure that it was truly him and not her imagination playing tricks.

"N-Niragi," she heard herself whisper, her voice low and cracked, rougher than she remembered.

"Shh, shh, don’t talk. Just stay calm. I’m here," he said, taking her hand and guiding it back to her abdomen, pressing down to try to staunch the bleeding. Y/N writhed in pain as another wave surged through her body.

"Where’s your idiot boyfriend when you need him, huh? Isn’t he a doctor? I told you he wasn’t good for you, that I didn’t like him, but you just had to go after him anyway, didn’t you? When do you ever listen to me, huh? Not even when we were kids, and I swore up and down that six times nine was fifty-four! That’s why you failed math!" He kept ranting, but Y/N had stopped listening.

Her eyes remained fixed on him, on the figure leaning over her. She could barely make out his features, swallowed by the backlight that surrounded him like a halo. Her vision was growing blurry, and as her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, and a high-pitched ringing filled her ears, another voice entered the mix.

"Were you looking for me?"

© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

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I hope you enjoy it, and to the person who requested it, I really hope it’s exactly what you were hoping for... or even better!✨

[inkribbon796]

Goo Town USA

Summary: Remus and Anti find someone in the sewer system of Gainesville, and it’s not a dead body.

A/N: Happy Birthday, Remus!

Remus was walking around town, it had been a while since he’d gotten to do so and Janus was too busy to keep babysitting him. So he was currently spending his time trespassing right into the heart of Dark’s territory. Which typically ended with Dark finding him, batting him around with his aura and then dumping him back into Gainesville for Janus to find and deal with later.

But Dark was busy with his new triplet spawnlings, not that Remus knew that or was going to learn that for a while. So Remus was calmly strolling down the street when Anti flung himself out of a telephone pole next to Dark’s warehouses and just bolted.

“Hey, Anti,” Remus smiled at Anti who raced past him as if he was set on fire.

“Come on, let’s go!” Anti shouted. He had a skeletal metal hand in his hands. Remus naturally bolted to follow him.

“Anti!” Google’s voice shouted in an absolute rage as he chased them. Remus took out his mace and with a mad cackle spun on his heels and charged at the android. Google protectively spilt into a cloud and after a couple swings he raced away from Google and in the chase the android lost Anti because he was trying to pursue Remus and Remus eventually slipped into the sewers where he and Anti frequently liked to hide out because most of their opponents had too much pride to follow them in there . . . along with an actual sense of smell.

“Yeh[1] lose him?” Anti asked as Remus frog splashed into the disgusting trash water.

Remus gave him a thumb’s up before picking himself up. He noticed that Anti was holding a skeletal robotic hand.

“Aghhh,” Anti complained. “It was finally gettin[2] fun.”

“Should I go find him?” Remus offered.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Anti huffed out. “Don’t know why e’eryone in this fookin’ town is so borin’ an’ shite all ‘a the sudden.”[3]

Then he bit off one of the fingers of the hand. Remus frowned at him for a bit before smiling again and getting closer to the glitch demon. “Wanna[4] share?”

Anti chuckled and tossed him the pinky finger and Remus accepted it gladly.

Remus summoned his mace and rested his hands and chin on the bottom flat of the mace, pouting. “I’m not bor~ing, am I, Anti?”

The glitch demon frowned and thought about that, “Depends, yer not gonna give chaos up fer Dee, are yeh?”[5]

“I would never,” Remus huffed out in offense. “How dare you think so little of me?”

“Then yer not borin’,”[6] Anti told him.

“Yay!” Remus cheered and threw his hands up, his mace falling into the water.

“Yeah,” Anti wrapped an arm around Remus’s neck and pulled him in. “Cause yer my favorite human, ain’tcha?”[7]

“Awww,” Remus pinched his cheeks. “Is swomeone’s gettin’ swoft, Anti?”[8]

“Shut up,” Anti grumbled and pushed Remus away from him. “Yeh[1] wanna[4] go draw on the police station again?”

“Fuck yes,” Remus said, kicking around in the sewer water for his mace instead of summoning it like a reasonable person. “Will Mare be there?”

And that was the wrong thing to say.

“Fook ‘im!”[9] Anti spat angrily. “Gobshite’s got some new shiny pact mate eatin’ up his time, an’ I can’t find Wil. He’s prolly up Dark’s arse or somethin’.”[10]

“Huh,” Remus said as he began to reach into the water for his mace.

“Lucky fer him I’ve been too busy ta gut him an’ so I got angry ‘cause I couldn’t find some shitesleeve,”[11] Anti scoffed. “Went ta[12] go bother Google, got bored, got hungry.”

Anti gestured with the metal hand he still had and was in the process of eating it.

Remus nodded and touched something but when he pulled it out it wasn’t his mace. It was a human head. A redhead with glasses and green slime oozing out of his head. The water at this point in the sewer wasn’t deep enough to vertically submerge a body.

And Remus should know, he’d tried to hide a body in these sewers more than once.

Confused, Remus stuck the head back into the water, hoping that when he pulled it back out the person would be his mace instead.

It wasn’t.

“The fook[13] is that?” Anti asked.

“Hi, I’m Slime, uhh, I mean I’m Meat, Meat and Bone,” Slime introduced as he stood up out of the sludge water.

“Okay,” Anti smiled, poking the green jelly oozing from his head. “Meat, how do yeh[1] feel about death?”

“Well,” Slime hummed, his throat doing a weird, disgusting gurgling that Remus found absolutely fascinating and wanted to poke at the green viscous gloop that made up the bottom of his neck to see what was making the noise. “Everyone just shambles around until eventually they fall apart and become dust.”

Remus began cackling in laughter and soon Anti was joining him. Slime looked at them in confusion before starting to copy their mad laughter but sounding a lot more forced and crazed which only delighted both Remus and Anti more.

They stopped and Slime was still laughing for a full second before he awkwardly cut himself off.

“Dibs,” Remus proclaimed and grabbed Slime around the waist, lifting him up like an oversized rag doll. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, I have so many ribs,” Slime reassured loudly as Remus and Anti began heading out of the sewers, Remus summoned a couple of his tendrils to climb out without letting go of his new friend, and Anti used the nearest open wire. “And they are all mine.”

Anti immediately recognized that he was right next to the bar Mare liked to crash at when he wasn’t with Nate.

“Give me a sec,” Anti spat and stomped over to the bar and kicked in the door. “Mare! The fook[13] are yeh[1]?”

Mare was talking to the bartender, his new pact mate sitting at the other side of the bar, just feeding off of the aura in the patrons in the bar with Mare.

“Anti?” Mare asked in confusion, getting up.

Anti kicked over the nearest table, uncaring if there were people or drinks at it.

“Hey!” Mare spat and raced over to him, throwing himself at Anti and the two started getting into a fist fight with each other and Mare kicked him out of the bar.

Remus started cheering them on, summoning up some anchors to enjoy the fight and holding some out for Slime who took some and smashed it to his face instead of eating it.

Mad followed the fight out of the bar and tried to help Mare but was elbowed away by the two demons as they fought it out until both of them were covered in scratches from aura and claws.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” Mate spat in anger as they pulled away. It was a reprieve in the fight, the fight would either stop here or keep going depending on their conversation.

“Fook[13] you!” Anti spat at Mare. “Yeh get some new friend, an’ yeh leave me behind!”[14]

“Hey, should I?” Mad motioned behind himself.

“No, just,” Mare told Mad before turning back to Anti. “I didn’t leave you behind, you had your head up your ass chasing Henrik’s ass. I let you do what you want but when I deal with my shit, you get fucking pissed.”

Anti was quiet, fuming angrily for a bit. “Look I don’t care if yer fookin’ him or whate’er, I just care about havin’ some fookin fun.”[15]

“We’re not,” Mare rolled his eyes and sighed, “I’m not too busy to turn this town upside-down.”

“Promise?” Anti demanded. “I’m yer[16] favorite demon right? Not him?”

“No, he’s just my pact mate,” Mare told him as Mad just stared at them in confusion.

“Yeh[1] swear?” Anti glared at him .

“Yes, obviously, you fucking asshat,” Mare told him.

“I better be, yeh[1] gobshite[17],” Anti agreed before turning to Mare, “he’s my fookin’ friend, yeh got that?”[18]

“Uhhh, yeah, whatever,” Mad held up his hands and stared at Anti like he was insane.

“Exactly,” Anti reinforced. “Anyways, yeh[1] two wanna come an’[19] commit some chaos?”

“Hell yeah,” Mare gave him a thumbs up. “Hey Mad, come on, I gotta[20] introduce you to Anti here?”

“Doesn’t he work for Dark?” Mad was watching Anti carefully.

“I don’t do shite fer that arsehole,”[21] Anti spat down at the ground. “We just happen ta agree on a couple things. Dark is a fookin’ shitehead an’ the only good thing about him is the spawnlings he collected an’ the fact he’s datin’ Wil.”[22]

Then he clapped Mare on the back, “Come on, I’ve got a gang leader ta[13] kill.”

“I thought we were committing chaos?” Mare reminded, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but some arse[23] attacked Kay an’[19] Lunky,” Anti spat. “So if I can find this arsehole an’ gut him like a fookin’ fish fer touchin’ ‘em.”[24]

Then Anti remembered something, and felt dumb for not remembering it sooner. “Hey, Remus, yer[16] from Gainesville, who are all the gang leaders in yer[16] city?”

Remus shrugged, “Ask Dee.”

“Yeah fook[13],” Anti agreed, “he would know.”

The glitch thought on that, before he shrugged, “Welp, time ta burn shite until he shows up. Or the heroes do an’ I can just ask them.”[25]

“Yeah!” Remus pumped his fists in the air supportively.

And that’s what they did. It didn’t take long for Remus to teach Slime how to become an arsonist, Remus just set a burning Molotov cocktail in his hand and pointed Slime at something and told him to throw it. Slime barely had the second one in his hand and Remus was trying to light it when Janus showed up.

“The devil are you doing?” Janus shouted.

“Burning stuff,” Remus supplied helpfully.

“I’m an Aaronist!” Slime shouted.

“Arsonist,” Mare corrected with a smile.

“Why in our town?” Janus demanded. “Why not do this in Egoton?”

Remus shrugged and Janus groaned in frustration.

Which is exactly when a shrill bird whistle called out. “Hey Meat, what’cha[26] doing?”

Janus startled and turned directly behind him to see a man in a button shirt and suspended, with a black beanie and a thick scar over his left eye.

Slime smiled and walked over to the newcomer, holding out the unlit Molotov. “Quackity, look, I am arsonist now.”

“El Espíritu me directo, porque este chamaco va a ser como Tubbo,”[27] Quackity groaned and rubbed at the bridge of his eye. “Come on, we gotta[20] go before you get us arrested.”

“How long were you following me?” Janus demanded angrily.

“Relax, I just wanted to talk,” Quackity said, moving Slime behind him. “I just didn’t expect our next meeting to be this soon.”

He took out a white business card out of his sleeve and with a soft puff of air he blew it with magic towards Remus, who caught it mostly out of reflex. “For your boss.”

Remus blinked as Janus glared at Quackity. But he brought the card over to the deceitful Side, who ripped up the card and threw it back at Remus. The creative Side ate one of the scraps out of the air like a deranged piranha. “We want nothing to do with you.”

“You sure you can’t tell the big man?” Quackity tried to convince Janus. “Come on.”

“You have me confused with someone who takes orders,” Janus scoffed. “Which I assure you, I do not.”

Quackity had a huge, smug smile on his face. “Right, big guy. Tell you what. You swear off your lies, and I’ll swear off mine. ¿Entiendes?[28]”

He clicked his tongue and winked his good eye as he pulled out an orb of swirling green aura. Slime broke apart into a swirl of vicious green gloop and swirled around Quackity as the man threw the orb and it sailed a far distance away.

A great eye opened up for a second or two and the two were gone. Leaving Deceit with the other villains.

Janus glared at where they had been before turning back to Remus. “Do not talk to that man again.”

Remus slouched a little and pouted. Janus didn’t reinforce his order, he just stormed off, one of his serpentine familiars slipped away to go find Logan. Remus was left to continue causing trouble with the rest of his friends. If he saw Slime again and caused trouble in Gainesville again, Janus didn’t threaten him to stay away again, knowing that Remus wouldn’t follow the order.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. You

2. getting

3. Don’t know why everyone in this fucking town is so boring and shit all of the sudden.

4. Want to

5. Depends, you’re not gonna give chaos up for Dee, are you?

6. Then you’re not boring

7. Because you’re my favorite human, aren’t you?

8. Is someone getting soft, Anti?

9. Fuck him!

10. Idiot’s got some new shiny pact mate eating up his time, and I can’t find Wil. He’s probably up Dark’s ass or something.

11. Lucky for him I’ve been too busy to gut him and so I got angry because I couldn’t find some shitsleeve

12. to

13. Fuck

14. You get some new friend, and you leave me behind!

15. Look I don’t care if you’re fucking him or whatever, I just care about having some fucking fun.

16. your (or you’re, depending on context)

17. idiot

18. he’s my fucking friend, you got that?

19. and

20. got to

21. I don’t do shit for that asshole

22. We just happen to agree on a couple things. Dark is a fucking shithead and the only good thing about him is the spawnlings he collected and the fact he’s dating Wil.

23. ass

24. So if I can find this asshole and gut him like a fucking fish for touching them.

25. Well, time to burn shit until he shows up. Or the heroes do and I can just ask them

26. what are you

27. The Spirit direct me, because this boy’s going to become like Tubbo

28. Understand?

[archaxwii]

The Tiny Fox Thief

Warnings: This story contains soft, safe, vore. Scott catches Fundy trying to steal his stuff for the 100th time and decides to punish him to deter him from doing it again.

I promise I didn’t stop wanting to write these, I originally wrote this like two months ago but works been rough recently and killing my motivation and time to write, but hey at least I got this out in time for Origins to come back? I’m hoping the next one won’t take as long but I can’t make any promises. Despite the long wait I hope you enjoy! 

A tiny fox man was rummaging through his things.

Again.

Scott had causally walked into his house to get some payment for Ranboo and Tubbo for a trade they were doing for his new build, and he was greeted with a familiar sight.

He opened one of his chests to grab some gold and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a tiny ball of orange fluff hiding behind a diamond that was suspiciously not with the other diamonds.

Scott rolled his eyes, he grabbed the gold he needed and safely stored it away from the greedy fox before plucking Fundy up from behind the diamond.

Said fox yelped a little at being caught and now being so close to the giant.

Scott shifted his grip so Fundy was gently held in his hands instead of dangling by the fingers. Even if he was a little thief Scott didn't want to hurt his friend.

Scott raised an eyebrow at him." This is the fifth time this month Fundy, don't you ever get tired of gong through people's things?" He questioned flatly.

Fundy gave Scott a sheepish look." Uh, heyyy, Scott...I uhh, don't know what you're talking about, I was just looking at your pretty gems, they're uhh, very shiny from down here, you know?" His eyes darted around, trying not to make eye contact with the agitated giant.

Scott didn't seem convinced.

"You know, you'd have your own shiny diamonds to look at if you went and got them yourself instead of stealing from other people." He deadpanned.

"Pshh, what's the fun in that?" A look of fear crossed his face as he realized his mistake." Uhh, not that I was stealing, cause, uh, heh I was totally not doing that, I promise haha." His ears flattened against the back of his head as he grinned nervously.

" What am I gonna do with you? You know I could blow you to smithereens right?" Scott shook his head. He was obviously joking, but a little intimidation never hurt anybody.

"Ahah, but you'd never do that right?" In the back of his mind he knew Scott wouldn't do that, but Fundy did shrink a little further into Scott's hand nonetheless.

"Hmm, maybe I should, teach you a lesson to quit stealin' from everyone." Scott threatened.

At first it was an empty threat, but a small rumble from his stomach gave him a different idea.

It wasn't uncommon for someone to go missing for a little while due to being tucked away in a persons belly. Most of the giants in this server had the ability to protect their prey and keep them safe for as long as they wanted, and for the ones who didn't have those powers there were potions that could easily help keep prey safe as well.

That's why Fundy knew as soon as he heard that growl, with the look that crossed Scott's face, that it was time to bolt. He immediately panicked and started trying to squirm out of the hand he was trapped in.

"I think I know a good place I can put you for tonight, maybe it'll teach you a lesson." Scott himself had never eaten anyone before, but he knew he had a control over his own digestive system, so he wouldn't actually hurt Fundy.

"P-please, Scott! I-I promise I won't steal again, I've changed, I've mended my ways and all that!" He stuttered frantically.

Now, Fundy has spent a fair few nights in the belly of one of his friends, especially after he'd been caught stealing from them, but just because he knew it was safe didn't mean he liked it. It was just so humiliating.

And I mean do you know how long it takes to get saliva out of fur?

In a stroke of luck, Fundy managed to squirm out of Scott's grip and he leapt off of Scott's hand onto the floor.

Fundy was speedier than the average tiny, fast enough to almost make it to the little hole the tinies used to get into Scott's house.

Key word there is almost.

Right as he got to the entrance, as the scent of the outside hit his muzzle...he was swept right back up into Scott's hands.

He whined as Scott's grinning face looked down at him." So close, yet so far Fundy." He petted Fundy's head with his thumb." I promise it's just for tonight, it'll be a good nights sleep and I'll let you out in the morning." Scott tried to reassure.

It was quite warm inside, it was soft and it was easy to fall asleep knowing he was safe.

Fundy huffed. That didn't mean he liked it! It was slimy and gross, it was so loud, and being eaten was so just embarrassing, and don't even get started on the trip down! No, he most certainly did not want to get eaten.

Scott kept a firm grip on him as he lifted Fundy above his head. Fundy yelped as Scott opened his mouth and unceremoniously dropped him in.

To Fundy this was a familiar hell. To Scott this was an unfamiliar heaven.

He hummed as he felt squirming around. Fundy battered his tiny paws at his teeth, trying to get him to open his mouth.

Scott didn't relent and instead started licking the little fox. He had a very salty taste that made his mouth water.

After Scott figured Fundy had been covered in enough saliva, he tilted his head back so Fundy knew what was coming. It was strange to feel Fundy physically tense, and after a couple seconds he swallowed him down.

Fundy yelped as he was shoved into the dark tunnel.

This was always his least favorite part. Not that he liked any of it, mind you. But this always left him dizzy and disoriented and feeling a bit sick.

He squirmed at the painful crushing that slowly pulled him down. He could tell Scott had never eaten someone before, it was much more painful than usual.

After a few more swallows his feet were pressed against something, he whined as he was squeezed through something much tighter and then unceremoniously dropped into a shallow pool of liquid.

Tired as the decent down left him, Fundy didn't hesitate to scramble up and start battering at the walls. He didn't want to actually hurt Scott, but he was still upset, it was so disgusting and humiliating. Why did they always do this to him?

Scott stumbled a bit, leaning against the chest at the unexpected assault on his stomach.

He didn't expect to be able to feel everything so strongly, and it felt kinda nice, despite the attack inside.

He hummed, pressing a hand to his stomach." You doing alright in there Fundy?" He inquired. He wanted to make sure he wasn't gonna actually hurt him.

"No, Scott, you just ate me!" He growled, trying to jump and climb up the slick walls to no avail." Please let me out, it's really gross in here!" He whined.

Scott chuckled, rubbing circles on his belly." Well I didn't exactly swallow you for your enjoyment, this is meant to be a punishment after all." He lowered his voice, tone more serious." Are you actually ok in there? I'm not hurting you, right?"

"...If I said yes would you let me out?"

"Fundy."

"Ok, ok, yeah I'm not dying or whatever." Fundy huffed, slumping against the wall with his arms over his chest.

"It's just for the night Fundy, I promise I'll let you out in the morning." He reassured.

Fundy remained grumpily silent, until Scott heard the thumping of footsteps and a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Scott?" Inquired the dark, imposing figure of Ranboo. The poor ender hybrid had to duck to see into the door.

Caught up in catching Fundy, Scott had forgotten his original goal when coming in here.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ranboo, I was trying to grab the gold for you guys and found a certain someone rummaging through my things again, so I had to deal with that." He quickly explained, sliding off the chest.

At the mention of Ranboo, Fundy scrambled up trying to claw at the walls again." Ranboo! Help me! I don't want to stay in here please!" He cried.

Unfortunately for Fundy, Ranboo couldn't hear him from the inside, but from the slight glance to Scott's belly he seemed to be able to figure out what happened.

Regardless of whether he knew or not Ranboo only lightly chuckled." You'd think he'd get tired of stealing one day." He stepped into the house, shaking his head." Well, do you have our stuff?"

Scott did a little "Oh yeah!" jump before turning around to dig in his chests. Fundy was still fiercely trying to get Ranboo's attention, which Scott blithely ignored.

After a couple seconds Ranboo was in the possession of 3 stacks of Redstone, a couple gold blocks, and some obsidian, and Scott now owned several stacks of concrete that he couldn't be bothered to harvest himself for a new build he was working on.

After saying their goodbye's Ranboo wandered off to...wherever he and Tubbo wandered off to, and Scott was left alone with Fundy, who was now grumpily sulking against the stomach wall.

After shifting his spades of concrete into his chests Scott retired to his room, flopping backwards onto his bed, trying not to jostle Fundy around too much.

He curled up around his middle, wrapping his arms around his stomach and allowing himself to revel in the sensation of Fundy being in there. Fundy wasn't moving much anymore but Scott could feel his weight, like a warm stone sat in the center of his belly. If he concentrated enough he could even feel the fox's soft breathing.

As much as Scott wanted to punish Fundy he did still feel bad for trapping him all night." You gonna be alright in there?" He softly asked.

Fundy huffed tiredly. It wasn't...that bad. It could actually be quite calming if he had wanted this to happen. It was much warmer than his cave and softer than the bed he slept on. The deep sounds of Scott's lungs and organs working around him did much better to soothe him than the dead silence he slept in at home. It wasn't really that bad in here if you ignored the disgusting amounts of slime...it's just that he hated feeling like food. And he knew nobody on the server felt like that towards him, but it didn't stop his brain from thinking about it that way.

He curled up tighter in a ball." I don't like being food for you guys." He mumbled, Scott could barely even hear the fox.

Scott pressed a hand to his belly, surprised at the sudden vulnerability. He didn't know Fundy felt that way about being eaten. Scott had assumed it was a fun game to him like it was everyone else." Fundy...none of us think like that about you, any of you, we like to have fun and mess with you guys but I-none of us- would ever think of you as food." He reassured. He'd never taken much consideration into how tinies really felt about being eaten, since people like Tubbo, Tommy, and Niki seemed to enjoy it (most of the time) and with the knowledge that it was safe, he didn't consider how negative it could be for some tinies.

He rubbed circles into his belly, feeling regretful." Do you actually want me to let you out? I don't want you to be in there if it upsets you."

Fundy sighed, licking at the few stray salty tears on his face."...No, there's no point when I'm already in here. And it isn't...that bad, I just...hate being reminded of where I am."

Scott chuckled lightly." Just think of it like a really weird waterbed, except with more slime." He offered.

Fundy snorted. It was like a waterbed of sorts, except it felt more like you were inside it than on top of it.

He laid his head down on his arms, closing his eyes. He didn't fall asleep immediately, but Scott's words soothed his nerves enough to where he found the stomach much less distressing than it had previously been. With Scott gently rubbing him and the sound of his heartbeat filling his ears and drowning out his thoughts, Fundy drifted to sleep.

Scott wasn't tired just yet. Being a Starborne, he much preferred being out at night and as such he was mostly nocturnal. He didn't mind staying awake anyway. He didn't know the next time he would be able to do something like this and wanted to enjoy himself as much as possible.

For now, Scott was content to just settle down and comfort Fundy. He'd had a rough couple hours thanks to him so he wanted to make him feel better as much as possible. He hadn't eaten tonight, but Fundy filled his belly enough where he didn't need to, a nice comfortable weight to keep the hunger at bay. He softly rubbed circles into his belly around Fundy, who seemed to slowly be drifting off. He was happy to lay like that for another few hours, enjoying the feeling of Fundy inside, as close and safe to him as a friend could be.

[caswellprmanager]

out of the closet (and into my arms)

read it on ao3

Ship: Ricky Bowen/EJ Caswell

TW: transphobia, deadnaming, gender dysphoria, panic attacks

Summary: Ricky has certain items of clothing that EJ loves to steal.

Notes: I exclusively blame @random-nerd-3 for planting this idea in my head in the discord server so now it has manifested itself. *british accent* I can't believe you've done this 😩

EJ was not above pretending to be sick just to not go to school. He didn't go to theater camp for nothing. One time when there was this really mean kid who sneezed on him in third grade, he faked having pneumonia so well that their mom made them apologize for infecting him. One could say he's basically a natural born actor.

But today... he's not even pretending when he says he feels sick.

He woke up that morning, running through all the things he had to do for the day, and then promptly chucked it out of his mind when he looked at himself in the mirror. He's been on T for a while now but his parents refuse to pay for top surgery. He'd do it himself with the money he has in his bank, but whatever he purchases alerts his parents. So looking at his tank top clad torso with no binder on and the tell-tale bumps of his breasts lightly tenting the material up front made him want to punch his mirror.

His breasts weren't big but god were they noticeable. At least for him. He shakily runs a hand down his chest and wishes more than anything for the offending things to disappear. He mentally computes how long it will be until he moves out of the house to go to college — just so that he can finally get the surgery he's always wanted.

Yet, even after computing, it still seems so far away.

"Eliza? Are you up? Breakfast is ready?"

There was a dull ringing in his ears when he woke up a few minutes ago but it was deafening now at the sound of that name.

You know that's not my name.

EJ feels his chest tighten and his breath come out in shorter bursts. He grabs the edge of his bathroom sink shakily, knuckles turning white the louder the ringing in his ears gets and the faster his heart beats.

Drowning.

He's drowning.

He's drowning in thoughts he doesn't want to have but invade the forefront of his mind.

He's drowning.

"Eliza? Eliza, answer me!"

Stop calling me that! EJ pulls at his hair, vision blurring at the seams. Stop fucking calling me that—

"EJ!"

A hand on his shoulder practically yanks him up to the metaphorical surface. He's breathing, but only barely, and he subconsciously falls into someone's arms, gasping through sobs.

"Hey there, handsome. You're okay. I got you."

The voice was soothing, familiar like the feel of his favorite childhood blanket wrapping around his shoulders. He buries his face into the fabric before him, inhaling the scent of sandalwood, cherries, and throb cologne.

Throb cologne.

"R-Ricky?" He whispers, not really believing it himself. The one holding him answers by tightening their hold around him and EJ feels himself collapse even further in their arms. He breathes in Ricky's scent like it's the only thing keeping him grounded right now – and it might as well be.

"I'm here, Elijah. I'm right here." Elijah. EJ visibly relaxes at the sound of that name – the name he gave himself.

"How did you–" He tries to say but the tightness in his throat only allows his voice to come out in a whisper. Ricky runs their hand through his hair.

"I thought I would go to your house before school for a change. Your mom let me in." Ricky doesn't force EJ to look at them and he's grateful for that. His vision was still impossibly blurry and he feels a strong headache approaching after what just happened. "But I have a strong feeling you don't want to go to school today."

EJ buries his face even deeper into Ricky's chest and Ricky kisses the top of his head right after. He's taller than Ricky – not by much, but he'll hold that over Ricky 'till the day he dies – but right now he feels like a little kid wrapped in Ricky's arms. Small. Secure.

Safe.

"C'mon, handsome." Ricky says into his hair, placing another kiss on the top of his head. "Let's get you back to bed."

EJ doesn't even remember being tucked back into bed, nor the third kiss Ricky gave him on his cheek, or even the sound of Ricky conversing lowly with his mom at the door. All EJ really remembers is feeling absolutely exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that the second his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

After a few hours, EJ woke up again, still with a lightly throbbing headache and his room plunged in darkness except for the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling.

EJ focused on the constellations he painstakingly stuck there in the first grade. He remembered breaking his arm trying to get off the ladder and crying all the way to the hospital. The memory seemed to give his mind a distraction but he wasn't distracted enough to not notice the extra layer on his body.

EJ fell asleep with a tank top on, just like he always does. He runs warmer than most people so he doesn't usually sleep with a hoodie or sweater on until the winter months. Even then, he just turns up the thermostat in his room.

So... where the hell did this hoodie come from?

"Knock, knock!" Came a voice from the other side of his door and his heart stared beating a little faster, hoping that it wasn't either of his parents about to scold him for skipping school. But when the door opened — revealing a smiling Ricky — he could practically feel the tension lift from his shoulders.

"Oh good, you're awake! Your parents left for work a few hours ago so you don't have to worry, by the way." How Ricky was able to figure out what exactly was on his mind was beyond him. But it did put him ever more at ease. Although, he was still confused as to why Ricky was still here.

"Ricky did you... Did you skip school?" He asked, sitting up against the headboard just as Ricky sat next to him to feel his forehead. Ricky smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck.

"I couldn't leave you alone." Before EJ could protest, Ricky continued. "Don't worry! I texted Big Red to update me on rehearsals. I also texted your co-captains for the Water Polo and Lacrosse teams that you weren't feeling well, so you have to skip on training. I figured they'd spread the word to the rest of your clubs. You're in, like, a million of them."

"It keeps me busy," EJ mumbles but allows Ricky to climb into bed with him. He immediately relaxes into Ricky's chest when he opens his arms invitingly, knowing that he can't resist an invitation to snuggle. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's one of those days, isn't it?" Ricky asks and EJ nods. Ricky hums in acknowledgement. It's one of the things EJ appreciates about their relationship — one that took a lot of trial and error. They're different in a lot of ways but when it comes to their struggles with gender, they've found someone to relate to. EJ doesn't think he's ever dated anyone who just... gets it like Ricky does.

"It sucks," he mumbles into Ricky's chest with a little pout. "Plus I don't have any clean binders today so that makes it suck even more."

"Well, I'll be right here if you need me. Just say whatever and I'll help you in any way I can." EJ could feel tears well up in his eyes and buries his face into Ricky's neck, overwhelmed and filled with so much unbridled joy for Ricky's mere presence in his life right now.

Which brings him all the way back to the mere presence of the hoodie he's wearing right now that is definitely not his. But he can make an assumption from the smell alone.

Sandalwood. Cherries. Throb cologne.

"Darling?" EJ says into Ricky's neck slowly.

"Hm?"

"Am I wearing your hoodie?"

"...And If I say yes?" Ricky teases, using their nails to scratch at the nape of EJ's neck casually. EJ fights the fluttering of his eyelids to focus on the task at hand. He pulls away from Ricky a bit to look at them inquisitively, which thankfully results in Ricky sighing in defeat. That basically answers EJ's question, and just as he's about to remove the hoodie, Ricky gently places a hand on his chest.

"Keep it. It looks good on you."

EJ looks down at the brown and white color block hoodie. When Ricky wears this, it engulfs their entire frame and makes EJ want to smother them in kisses. EJ has never admitted it but... this was on his top list of favorite hoodies that Ricky owns.

But he also knows this is also one of Ricky's favorites.

And yet... the more he looks at himself in Ricky's hoodie, the dysphoria he felt in spades just hours go subsides, even just a little. It makes his chest look properly flat and it was awfully comfy. He feels Ricky's eyes on him as he brings the fabric of the hoodie to his nose, breathing in Ricky's scent one more time.

Sandalwood. Cherries. Throb cologne.

He smiles for the first time today and Ricky smiles back.

He could get used to this.

--

Ever since that day, EJ has started to slowly come into the possession of... several of Ricky's clothes.

Now, stealing might be too heavy of a word to use here. Though he's not unfamiliar with the concept — he just prefers to use the phrase... indefinitely borrowing.

But if one were to ask anybody else, EJ was most definitely stealing Ricky's clothes.

It started off with the color block hoodie Ricky gave him that day. That damned hoodie even changed his nightly sleeping routine – with wearing that very same hoodie as the last step before he's able to truly fall asleep. It's absolutely insane how one piece of garment can make him feel. How having something of Ricky's makes him want to have more of them.

And so EJ just never stopped.

--

One day before rehearsals, on a particularly cold afternoon (and EJ knew it would be cold. He checks the weather forecast on his phone everyday), he deliberately forgot his letterman jacket in his locker. After arriving to the bomb shelter, and coincidentally hearing from Miss Jenn that the janitor hasn't fixed the heater yet, EJ casually mentions to Ricky that he forgot his jacket in his locker. And that it's way too far to retrieve now.

"You poor baby," Ricky says with a knowing glint in his eye. It's a subtle game they play, the two of them, and EJ likes to think he wins it every time. "Here, take my sweatshirt. I sprayed extra throb on it for you."

"Okay agenda for tomorrow," EJ teases while pulling on the sweatshirt that indeed wreaks of throb. "We're going shopping for a new cologne."

"I thought you liked throb?" Ricky replies with a cheeky smile. EJ sticks his tongue out at him – a very mature response, thank you very much.

"It does remind me of you." EJ says this as he brings the collar of the sweatshirt up to his nose. He tries to hide the way his lips curl up automatically at Ricky's familiar scent. He wouldn't hear the end of it if they were able to catch that. "But it doesn't mean I like it."

"But you like me, right?" Ricky says this with a hint of a tease and a larger hint of vapid curiosity. It's almost as if Ricky is just waiting for the confirmation that EJ most definitely still likes them, which isn't much of a surprise. Ricky doesn't exactly have the best of luck in the romance department. It actually took quite a bit of time before the two of them even got together. But, now that they are together, EJ makes it a point to remind Ricky that he will continue to choose them everyday.

And EJ doesn't mind reminding Ricky how much he loves them — it's practically a part of his daily routine.

"I love you, angel." EJ says, lacing each syllable with as much affection that he can muster. Ricky bites their lip and tries to hide their blushing face with their hands. EJ chuckles, leaning over to place a kiss to Ricky's temple before wrapping an arm around them.

"EJ... I..." Ricky starts to say but the words don't ever take shape. EJ knows this though. He doesn't mind the wait.

"I know, baby." EJ kisses Ricky's forehead this time. "I know."

--

bowen (affectionate): did i leave my blue-grey hoodie at your house? i cant find it anywhere...

caswell (derogatory): [sent 1 attachment] oh you mean this one?

caswell (derogatory): :-)

bowen (affectionate): ah

bowen (affectionate): there it is

caswell (derogatory): do you want it back? i can bring it to school tomorrow

bowen (affectionate): nah

bowen (affectionate): actually no yeah bring it to school tomorrow

bowen (affectionate): but you have to be wearing it 🤷‍♀️

caswell (derogatory): u dont have to tell me twice 😘😘

--

[1 new notification: @ejwaterpolotheaterguy posted a new photo]

ejwaterpolotheaterguy: boyfriend sweater 😍 @sk8erbowen thanks for the drip 😚

--

There are days where EJ feels dysphoric and Ricky isn't there.

It just so happened to be the very same weekend that Ricky decided to go visit his mom up in Chicago when EJ woke up once again wanting to claw at the offending mounds of flesh on his chest. He nearly punched his mirror before Ricky called him to ask how he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, EJ. I wish I was there."

"I'll get by. Just gotta cover the mirrors all around the house and exclusively live in one of your hoodies for the next 24 hours." EJ rummages through his drawers, trying to find the exact hoodie he's been thinking of since Ricky called. It was the one that was big even on EJ and felt like getting a hug from Ricky. The second his fingers felt the familiar purple fabric, he quickly put it on, almost completely forgetting that he was on facetime with Ricky.

"Well look at you, my handsome boy." EJ blushes when he realizes that Ricky could see him but the smile that makes it to his lips is the most genuine one he's had all day. "How're you feeling?"

"Safe." was the first word that came to mind and EJ couldn't have stopped it from leaving his lips even if he tried. Ricky's answering smile made the slip-up worth it, though.

And there really isn't any other word that describes how wearing Ricky's hoodies and sweatshirts makes him feel. It's like getting a cup of hot chocolate by an open fire on Christmas morning. Like coming home to a warm embrace after a terrible day. With Ricky he was safe. With Ricky, in Ricky's hoodies, there was comfort. Sure there are moments where a storm hits and neither of them have an umbrella... but that just means they'll end up finding an awning together, soaking wet but basking in each other's warmth.

Sandalwood, cherries, and throb cologne.

And as Ricky smiles at him through the phone screen, he knows there's no one else he'd gladly weather any storm with but them.

[fivelakesinwriting]

Out of Character (Rafe Cameron)Part 5

Warnings: SMUT, Swearing.

Author's Notes: Hi. It's been a while. I didn't feel like posting, honestly. Didn't feel like involving myself in OBX or this story. But, here it is. I hope you all enjoy it.

"Nice boat." Came a voice behind Gemma as she tied her dad's boat up to the dock. She turned around and came face to face with a sweaty, toned chest.

"Oh..I.. thanks. It's my dad's." She replied as she looked up at the blonde boy.

"It's an awesome piece. I'm JJ." He smiled as he extended a hand for her.

"I'm Gemma. I'm new to town." She replied as she shook his hand.

"Thought you might be. I'd recognize either you or that boat." JJ smirked as he reached into his bag to pull out a beer.

Gemma blushed and looked down at her feet. The boy cracked his beer, taking a hearty swig before he turned to a chorus of his name from the channel.

"Well, those are my friends. Listen, there's a party on the beach tonight if you're interested. Swing by, and I'll introduce you to my friends. Could tell me about you, and your dad's boat." JJ smiled as he walked backwards towards his friends idling boat.

"Okay. Thank you. I..I just might." She nodded.

"Bye, Gemma..." JJ trailed as he had one foot in the boat and the other on the dock.

"Mercer. Gemma Mercer."

"JJ Maybank. See you tonight, Gemma Mercer." JJ waved as he hopped into the boat with a crush of his beer can.

That night at the insistance of her step mother, Gemma went to the party. She walked nervously down the beach as she followed the sounds of teens as they drank. The fire that roared on the beach her beacon.

"Gemma!" She followed the sound of her name and spotted the boy from earlier, now with a shirt on and most of the buttons done up.

"Hi, JJ." Gemma smiled as she walked over to him as she stood at the keg with the three people from the boat earlier.

"Alright. Meet Pope, Kiara and Young John B." JJ smirked as he pointed to each individual.

"Hi, guys. Nice to meet you. I'm Gemma." She smiled with a soft wave.

"Welcome to the Outer Banks, Gemma. Beer ?" John B smiled as he raised a cup.

"Sure. Thank you." Gemma nodded.

Gemma sat with JJ and his friends for a bit and listened to them as they talked, answering the occasional question. Eventually it was just JJ and Gemma.

"So, what's your story?" JJ asked as he leaned back on his hands on the sand.

"My story?" Gemma asked with a small laugh.

"Well, yeah. Why are you here?"

"Well. My dad works for this guy. Real big wig. Ward Cameron. So we had to move here. Plus my parents got divorced and my dad remarried. Stepmom wants to be as far away from my real mom as possible. " Gemma replied as she sipped her beer.

"Wait. Your dad works for Ward Cameron?" JJ asked as he turned to look at her fully.

"Yeah. Some investments or realty. I don't really know what he does. Apparently my stepmom knows his second wife and that's how he got the job. Good ol' Petra." Gemma replied as she held her drink up for a cheers with the ocean.

"Didn't want to move?" JJ asked softly, not pressing the Ward Cameron issue.

"Not really. It's not that I don't like it here. It's beautiful and I think I will have fun, but it's not the same as back home. Don't have my mom." She replied as she looked over at her new friend.

"I know what you mean. My mom left a long time ago. I know it's not the same as you, but. You feel that.."

"Emptiness." They stated at the same time.

"Mercer!" Came the voice of Rafe Cameron behind them, and Gemma watched as JJ Maybank clutched his Solo Cup a little too tightly.

"Hi, Rafe." She replied as she looked behind her to see the boy whose father owned the OBX, and was her father's boss.

"What are you doing hanging out with this dirty Pogue?" Rafe sneered as he finished his drink, then tossed the cup.

"I don't know what that..you mean JJ? He's my friend. We met today." Gemma replied as she looked between the two boys.

JJ seemed to be seething with anger at the presence of Rafe. Gemma didn't understand. She had met Rafe several times over the last few months while their fathers worked out a deal for the job, and she liked him. She thought he was nice. A little sarcastic, and crude. But overall nice.

And she liked JJ.

"No doubt scouting out your dad's boat." Rafe grinned as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

"Fuck off , Rafe." JJ spat as he scrambled up from the sand to stand face to face with the boy.

"Alright. Easy. Just saying, next time Gemma wants to party she should be with the Kooks where she belongs and not the Pogues." Rafe grinned, before he turned and walked away with his group of friends.

"I fucking hate that guy." JJ muttered as he took a gulp of his drink before he turned back to Gemma with an apologetic look.

"So. Kooks? Pogues?" Gemma asked as she stood up and led him towards the keg.

"Just this island rivalry. Rich kids versus poor kids , really." JJ replied as he filled their cups.

"And I'm not supposed to like you because my dad kisses Ward Cameron's ass?" Gemma asked.

JJ smirked as he took a generous gulp of his beer. He leaned down close and whispered, "I like you, Gemma Mercer."

The connection with Gemma was more than sexual, although he had that with her in spades. That same night JJ took her back to John B's house to the room where he frequently crashed.

"Sure you wanna shack up with a dirty Pogue?" JJ asked as he kissed down her neck, his hands on her hips as he lifted her up to sit her on the dresser.

"Well..how dirty?" Gemma asked with a tug of his platinum blonde hair.

"Filthy." JJ replied as he pulled his lips from her neck and tugged his shirt over his head.

"Then, yes." Gemma smiled as she reached for his toned chest like she had wanted to since early that afternoon.

JJ smirked as he lifted the girl up off the dresser just to drop her onto his bed. He watched as she wiggled out of her shorts for him, and growled when he saw she didn't have underwear on underneath.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted me to fuck you tonight." JJ muttered as he laid between her legs.

"Maybe." She replied as she reached for the button of his shorts.

JJ growled as he grabbed her hips and tossed her to the top of his bed then crawled between her legs, leaving a trail of kisses up her thighs. He pinned her knees to either side before he gave her centre a soft kiss.

"JJ!" She whined with a tug of his hair.

"You'll get it." He grumbled with a smirked before he gave her the flat of his tongue.

JJ would always remember that he had her first. Somehow the standards of OBX got hold of her and she ended up with Rafe Cameron. Maybe it was her job at the club and she was around him so often it just made sense. But JJ would never forget their first night together. 

..

"Kie says you yelled at her." John B stated as he walked up behind JJ .

The blonde boy sat on the dock and looked out at the setting sun. He couldn't shake his anger. It festered inside of him.

"I didn't yell...okay. I yelled. But you guys shit on Gemma all the time, and you don't know her like I do. You weren't..you weren't there." JJ mumbled as he pulled a cigarette from behind his ear.

"Dude, I know you liked her..or like her. But I don't think she's the same girl she was when she came her. She's got Rafe and the Figure Eight all over her now. " John B replied as he sat down next to him.

"I think it's unfair of you to judge me for Gemma Mercer when you're fucking Sarah Cameron. Who is Rafe Cameron's sister." JJ replied with a glare.

"Sarah isn't like Rafe."

"And neither is Gemma! So to not judge her you need to put your dick in her? Fuck you , JB. I'm outta here." JJ mumbled as he got up and walked off the dock.

"JJ , don't leave. We just think you're being irrational. She's a nice girl, but have you ever stopped to think that she's playing you? All of you? Rafe. Topper. And you?" Pope asked as he tried to stop his friend from walking down the driveway.

"For what reason?" JJ asked with his hands tossed out, exasperated.

"I don't know. For you, the Royal Merchant? Using Rafe, Ward's money? And Topper, to fuck with Rafe." Kiara replied, still angry.

"Wait. You told her about the Merchant?" John B asked as he walked closer to his friend. That was their mission.

"It may have come up. But she wanted to know us. To know me! So I told her. She didn't ask to come along. And I didn't ask her either. When we were together we talked. Yeah, we had sex. Awesome sex. But it wasn't just that and.. whatever." JJ rambled before he huffed out a breath of frustration at his vulnerability and stalked off down the driveway.

As he made his way down the street JJ realized he didn't want to go home. He couldn't go home. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the only person he knew would understand.

"Hey, babe. Been a while . Can I see you?"

[morgana-ren]

Just Business

Summary: You’re a loan shark looking to expand your enterprise to the League of Villains. Lucky for you, Dabi might just be willing to hear you out. As long as you can prove your loyalty to him, that is. 

Rating: E for not everyone. Explicit. Do I release anything else?

Baby’s first Dabi fic. Just testing the waters, folks. I know nothing about this man. Literally nothing.

Money lending is such a nasty business. 

Some poor sap shuffles in nervously shifting his fingers and recites some rehearsed script about why he needs the cash and how he’s good for it, and then you throw him a wad and pretend to make up some important deadline. He thanks you profusely and thumbs through the cash as he leaves, and you’ve still got your heels kicked up on your desk as you tell a goon to keep an eye on him. 

Sometimes their reaction to your ‘charity’ varies, but one thing always stays the same. They can never pay it back. 

Some run. Some try to hide. Some bolt the second the cash hits their fists, boarding the first train out of town. Some genuinely try to do the right thing. The result is the same. 

You track them down. Your boot, their neck. They cry, you extort. 

It’s not about the money. It never is. Wealth is fine and good but no amount of monetary fortune can amount to having another thread in the network web you’re building. You’ll let them off the hook and they’ll spy for you, lie for you, even put their neck on the line because they have no other choice. Info is worth infinitely more than a petty loan, and what you invest in their short sighted schemes is repaid tenfold. 

You knew something was up with the shifty little prick the second he walked in the door. He asked for an exorbitant amount and could never meet your eyes when he told you just what he planned to do with it. It sounded too rehearsed, even for your usual clientele. Almost like someone told him what to say and just how to say it. 

In this business, you learn to call a spade a spade, but even as he sat on his knees with his gaze shifted away from you and practically screaming tells, you felt there was something deeper. A truth buried deep within his lies. Something interesting. Something you wanted to know. 

You give the poor bastard the money. 

Sending a runner to watch his schedule confirms your beliefs. He walks into a dilapidated abandoned building not long after leaving the meeting with your thick wad of cash in hand and leaves with only a few bills, though he looks relieved for his trouble. You have his face, his name, a dossier on his entire life. He’s far too unguarded for someone into something so nefarious. Someone sent this little gnat into your domain and didn’t expect you to follow the thread. They were mistaken. Whoever this man works for, he’s the only lead into something deeper. 

Your little flies swarm the building only to find it empty. No trace of who you had been dealing with, no clues to lead you to the heart of your curiosity. Only dust splayed across concrete and a fire with the ashes still warm. 

All your contacts and all your pull only give you one lead: the League of Villains. 

A down-on-their-luck outfit of outcasts and outlaws. Their leader had been making some big moves with a large financier some months ago, but things turned disastrous and no one had heard a peep since. It doesn’t surprise you to hear they’re rebuilding, but what intrigues you is that they’re making such risky pulls to do it. Borrowing money they clearly cannot pay back from a loan shark with a reputation of ruthlessness. 

It should make you mad, being ripped off and deceived like that. 

It doesn’t. 

If anything, it tickles you. You didn’t even have to put out any feelers and they had loitered into your web. You’d had your eyes on them for some time, curious about their leader and their members. They could prove a worthy investment, if given the chance. You never had an in with them since they never needed your services, but it seems that they hand delivered one in desperation.

It becomes a matter of baiting and trapping. 

You wait and you listen. The debt date approaches and it’s only a matter of time. It doesn’t surprise you when the same man wanders back into your office and hands you a thick stack of bills, more than twice what you had offered him. You most definitely are surprised to find him returning but you accept his offering with a smile, running your finger along the bills to keep up appearances. 

“It seems you find yourself quite wealthy! You simply must tell me how you’ve made such a grand turn around!”

He swallows hard at your compliment, raising a hand to the back of his head and scratching nervously. “Luck, Ma’am. Nothing more. I find myself in fortune and simply wish to repay your great kindness.” 

“Of course.” You smile at him, allowing him to take his leave. Now the real game begins. 

Your little spies follow him as he weaves through the streets into the industrial part of town. He ducks into another decrepit building, closing the door firmly behind him. He emerges a few moments later only to tuck a receipt of payment and a few more bills into his shirt. The pace he has is slower now, more relaxed. He believes he’s free, shaken clean of your webbing and can breathe without fear now. 

How wrong he is. 

The look of terror on his face as you block his exit from the alley almost makes you feel sorry for him. He immediately becomes defensive, backing up several feet despite the absence of your body guards. He’s not afraid of you. He’s afraid of who is watching. 

“What are you doing here? I paid you!” 

“You have.” You acknowledge, bowing your head. “I’m not here for money. I simply ask for information. That’s not so terrible, is it? This doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

“I don’t know anything!” 

“But of course you do!” You draw closer and he trips over his own feet, falling flat to the alley floor. “That money wasn’t for you, was it? You have no prospects, no family or land or investments of your own. Only a crippling gambling debt, yes? Paying debt doesn’t accumulate currency, so clearly you must have had some grand scheme. I’m very interested in your process.” 

You bend down, venom gathering behind your fangs as you stroke his petrified face with a cool finger. “From one brilliant mind to another. I’ll keep it a secret. I promise.”

“I- Well-” He looks around anxiously, stumbling over words but so close to breaking. It won’t take much on your part to get him to crack. 

Or it wouldn’t have, anyway. 

A bolt of vibrant blue flame speeds toward you from around a corner almost quicker than you can process and it’s only barely that you manage to dodge it by shoving yourself clumsily backward. The unbelievable heat from the blast doesn’t escape you, and you cover your face as the alleyway erupts in fire, engulfing your only lead in flames and incinerating him before you could make a move to save him and whatever it is he had to say. The smell of charred flesh is overwhelming and despite the obvious threat, you can’t help but smile. 

A tall figure walks fearlessly through the inferno, hands in his pockets and seeming almost bored as he kicks over the ashen figure that was human only seconds ago. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted this idiot.” 

You stay silent, face shielded from the encompassing heat by your palm as he approaches. Inky black hair and a pale body covered in muldering skin, maroon scars stapled together with metal and sheer force of will. His threadbare coat billows around his feet as he trudges down the alleyway toward you. His eyes are a striking shade of blue, focused on you with an empty expression. 

The ends of your hair have singed and your face itches, but it’s nothing compared to the accomplishment you feel. You had a feeling that toying with some strings might bring the cat out to play. 

“So you’re one of the League.” 

You stand up, brushing the dirt off your knees and stabilizing yourself on the wall despite the overwhelming heat. 

“Sure. You’re that babe that lent us the money, right? That was nice of you.” He stops just short of you, arms withdrawing from his pockets and igniting with indigo flame. “Now why don’t you scram? You got your money, what happens from here isn’t your business.”

“Oh, it’s not all business.” You coyly tell him, running him once over with your eyes. “Sometimes it’s just pleasure. Are there other fine, strapping young lads like you in the League or am I just one lucky girl?”

“That depends.” He scoffs, puffing air out of his stapled cheeks. “Do you get any better at prying for information or is this the best you can do?” 

“Oh!” A dramatic gesture and you cross your hands over your heart, already coating your hands in sticky, silken thread. “You wound me!” 

“I’ll wound you a hell of a lot worse if you don’t get out of here.” His fist clenches, and a burst of ever increasing heat emanates from the fire engulfing his hand. “Last I checked, fire still kills spiders.” 

“You’d burn down your own home to kill a single little spider? I’m flattered.” 

Before he can retort, you kick one of your feet out behind you, jumping toward him and latching your legs around his midsection. Your hands are quick to wrap around his own as he tumbles to the ground, burning through the layers of webbing drooling from your fingers. The viscous cobweb coats his palms and successfully extinguishes his flames, if only for a moment. It won’t be long, but hopefully it will give you the time you need. You slather the mixture onto the ground next to his head, immobilizing his arms and trapping him beneath you. 

He looks panicked for a moment, trying desperately to activate his quirk, but it can’t get the air his fire needs to breathe through your gossamer web. You keep steady on his bucking hips, as chuckling he tries to pry his hands free of your thick, durable weave. Once he realizes it’s not going to happen and you haven’t killed him yet, he seems to relax, if only slightly. 

“So, it’s not just a nickname.” He muses, teal eyes focused on your fangs through your grinning lips. “You know, I kill spiders when they’re in my house.” 

You throw him a faux pout, grabbing his jaw with your middle finger and thumb and holding him steady as you inspect the staples that line his jaw. “You’re so cruel. I’m just trying to protect my web. You can’t truly blame me, can you? You’d do the same.” 

His hips thrash again and this time you don’t hold back the little moan it coaxes from you, His pupils dilate and for a brief second he seems frozen. At least before a smarmy smirk tugs at his upper lip. “You got your money, doll. I’m starting to think this isn’t business after all.”

“Maybe it’s not.” You lean down, running your tongue across the textured expanse of his neck and stifling a giggle when he stiffens. “Maybe I see potential in your little group and I want in.” 

“That’s nice of you.” He juts his face toward you only for you to pull back. “But it’s really not up to me.” 

You withdraw your hand from his jaw and run it down his chest instead, fingertips slowly stimulating the rough, scarred skin beneath his neck. “Then who is it up to?” 

“That would be the boss.” He grins, one hand breaking free of your web and immediately finding purchase in your hair. You go to grab his wrist but he tuts you, threatening you with a familiar warmth on your scalp. Long, skinny fingers coil around your roots and yank your head back, and eventually his other hand breaks free, coming up to grip at your waist. “And he’s going to want nothing to do with you.” 

He pulls you down closer to him, the moist heat from his breath collecting on the side of your neck as he keeps you steady on top of him. You can feel him hardening between your legs and you can’t help but wiggle your hips to bolster the sensation. 

“What do I need to do, then?” 

“I’d be willing to put in a good word for you,” The hand on your waist slides down to grip your ass, clenching the fatty skin and slowly moving you back and forth atop his hips. “If you’re okay with working for it.” 

“You’d be so generous, yeah?” You gyrate your lower body against him, feeling the head of his cock poking your clit through his rough jeans. 

“You’d be surprised what I’ll do if you make it worth it.”

“I guess I have no choice then.” Your tongue runs over the point of your fangs, swallowing back all the venom you’d had so ready. Sometimes it’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar, and you had the sweetest honey of all right between your thighs. 

“Say the word and I’ll let you walk away, babe.” His fingers loosen their hold on your body but don’t relinquish entirely. “But if you don’t, I’m going to need you to prove your loyalty.”

You push his body down with your chest until the back of his head meets the gravel, allowing him to keep his hold on you. “I’m very loyal.” 

Your tits squish against his pecs and he sneaks a less than inconspicuous peak at them, cock throbbing against your apex. “Prove it.”

You don’t need any further prompting. He almost protests as you shake his hand free and scoot back farther down his legs, at least until he realizes what you’re doing. Your deft fingers work at the buttons of his jeans, yanking them down to his thighs before resituating yourself and working on your own buttons, pulling at them painfully slowly. Once you’ve both exposed yourself to the open air, you can’t help but look at his cock, thick and bobbing against his stomach. It’s one of the only parts of him that isn’t scarred and latched with metal, but the weeping tip looks so inviting. Every bone in your body wants to take him in your mouth and make him see God through sheer force of tongue, but you’ve got a job to do and there’s no time for play. Not this time anyway. 

You sit up on your knees until he’s aligned with your hole, sinking down just enough to tease him with your tightness. He groans, trying to pull you down further, but you’re not having it. You arch your back, keeping your knees steady and allowing only the very tip of his cock to enter you. 

“Fuck- hurry it up, would you?” 

You grab his hands and push them down by his head again, sinking down on him as slow as you possibly can. His eyes roll back in his head, and he hisses all manner of curses as you situate him nice and snug between your suffocating walls. The head of his cock prods at your cervix as you sit on top of him but the fullness stuffed between your thighs forces a breathy moan from you. 

He gives you no time to adjust to his girth, pumping his hips up into you as you’re still catching your breath. “Shit! You’re pretty fuckin tight, babe!” A shiver rolls down his back as his hands move to your hips and try to force you harder up and down against him

“So impatient.” You croon, licking up his neck again before sinking your fangs deep into the rough tissue. 

“Fuck!” 

He’s almost ready to shove you off of him before you start rolling your hips, letting his cock burrow deep into your silken cunt again and again, running your tongue along the column of his throat and nipping softly to gain his trust. You’re not trying to poison him, not now. Your job right now is to gift him pleasure, and so you will. 

“Risky-” He huffs in your ear, one hand smacking down hard enough on your ass that you yelp. “Toying with me like that. I can guess what those fangs can do.” 

“If only you knew everything.” You sigh, letting his hands go in favor of pulling back, your palms finding his knees behind you as your back arches and puts your tits on display for him. 

He can’t resist. The only thing separating him from your chest is a flimsy shirt which he quickly disposes of, heating his fingers enough that the fabric begins to shred before he swiftly pulls it apart. He quickly takes advantage of the fact that your milky tits are within reaching distance, latching on to a nipple and sucking almost painfully. 

A high pitched keen escapes your throat as he puffs and hollows his cheeks, slobbering on your chest with one hand on the crook of your shoulder to keep you anchored close. His cock pummels your insides, pelvis stimulating your clit as you ride him. You’re clinging to control but you can feel it slipping with every sloppy lick of his tongue and every brutal thrust of his hips. His heaving becomes more and more erratic, moist breath practically burning your chest on the odd second he pulls away to watch your face. Your eyes close and you lose yourself in the euphoria of his cock, letting him hit you deep and hard just where you need it. Eventually, he releases your nipple from his mouth and you figure you’re both about to cum. 

That comes to a screeching halt when he slows his pistoning, grabbing your waist with both hands and keeping you from riding him either. 

“What the hell!” You whine, trying and failing to chase your rapidly disappearing orgasm. 

“Dabi.” He hisses, bringing a hand up and kneading your breast with fingers that are too hot to handle, squeezing your nipple and sending another jolt of hot pleasure between your legs. 

“What?” 

Your teeth are clenching, active frustration boiling in your gut. You were so close. Somehow he knows, but he knocks you off of him, watching with mirthful eyes as you land on your butt beside him. Instead of mocking you, he sits up and quickly pulls off his coat, throwing to the ground behind him and spreading it around haphazardly. Before you have time to question, he lurches forward, grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the fabric beneath him. 

“I wanna hear you say it.” He says, maneuvering your legs open and placing his thick cock back at your drooling cunt. “When you cum on my dick, I wanna hear you say my name.” 

He refuses to move until you acknowledge him, so you do. 

“P-please? Dabi?” 

“Good girl” He purrs, plunging inside you again so fast you hardly have time to recover. The hand around your neck heats and you scream, at least until a pair of charred lips forces themselves against your open ones. He pounds into you with renewed energy, slamming with a force that jerks your head back with every thrust. The hand that isn’t firmly clasped around your throat finds its way between your legs and rubs in tight, calculated circles. His slick tongue worms into your throat, licking the front of your teeth.

“You’re cute-” he huffs into your open mouth. “I might keep you around. You’re more useful to me as a whore than a loan shark. Is that what you want, doll? To take my loads in your warm little holes? I’ll take real good care of you.”

You want to tell him no. You have a business, a mission. But as he drills deeper inside you, you’re so close to saying whatever he wants so long as he doesn’t stop. The electric warmth between your thighs is rapidly building, coiling up and ready to burst and you’ll say whatever he wants as long as he keeps fucking you. 

Some part of him must sense this, because he pulls away from your throat, weaving his fingers up through the crown of your head again and pulling you up to face him. His eyes are glazed, sweat dripping down his temple and he huffs breath through his nostrils that’s practically steam at this point. 

“Beg me to cum.” 

“Please-” 

His fingers work against your clit but just enough to keep the pleasure from fading. You need it faster. You need it harder.

“More!” 

He hums and licks up your lips, slipping his tongue between your teeth again for a brief second. “What’s the magic word?” 

The fingers on your pussy heat slightly as he applies more pressure, watching you through heavily lidded eyes as you writhe and squirm. 

“D-Dabi!” 

“Such a good girl. Say ‘Dabi please let me cum!”

It’s degrading and filthy but fuck you want it. Plus, remember, this is just business. Right?

“Dabi! P-Please let me cum on your cock! Please! I-I need-!” 

He bites down on your bottom lip before the words can leave your swollen tongue. Your body wiggles restlessly as you wait for him to give you what he promised. 

“Good girls get rewards.” 

His hips pull back and shove almost impossibly deep inside, forcing a loud cry from you before he slams mouth down onto yours. His fingers work overtime on your engorged clit, utilizing the wetness seeping from your hole as his cock thrusts in and out. His tongue worms past your lips again and explores every inch he can reach, chuckling as you moan shamelessly into his mouth. 

Though he starts off with a precise rhythm, it quickly becomes erratic as he chases his own pleasure while delivering yours. The hand at your apex is working overtime and the one in your hair is warm enough that you’d likely be a bit worried if you had the mental capacity. He uses both of them to maneuver you to his precise liking, fucking into you like you’re a pliable little doll built solely for his pleasure. 

He’s mumbling incoherently, breathing hot and heavy against your cheek. Your needy moans and whimpers only drive him to move faster and harder as your own hips work double time to meet his powerful pulsating. If you weren’t the one making the noises, you never would have believed it was you. 

“Fuck- shit! Gunna cum nice and deep in your pretty little cunt! Gunna make sure you’re dripping for days-“ He cuts off partway through to let out a heafy groan as you clench your muscles tighter to milk him. “God, so fucking tight-“

Your orgasm is approaching quickly, pain from his bony hips digging into the fleshy fat of your thighs barely a whisper compared to the white hot pressure building at the base of your spine. You can feel his cock twitch against your cervix with every punch against it and you know he’s close too. 

You dig your nails in, fingers clamped against his shoulders and using his movements to build your own momentum. The cacophony of moans between you two becomes louder and more unhinged, him whispering depraved fantasies in your ear that only drive you further to completion. Your head falls back down to the ground as you lose the ability to keep it up any longer, cord finally snapping and unraveling as he throws you over the edge. 

You practically scream as he continues fucking you through your orgasm, legs constricting ever tighter around his narrow hips as you push yourself up harder to chase every ounce of sensation he has to offer you. Stars dance behind your shut eyes and your entire body buzzes with prickling bliss that radiates from your core. You can’t feel the pain in your knees from the asphalt before he flipped you or the localized ache from him ripping at your hair; only the overwhelming, pulsing euphoria as he continues to hit that sweet, spongy spot deep inside you as you ride out your peak. 

His animalistic grunts turn even more primal as your walls flutter around his thick cock, clenching and pulsing around him until he can’t hold back the tide of cresting pleasure anymore. Hot cum floods your insides, so warm you swear it nearly burns you. He continues pumping as it begins to leak from inside you, obscene squelching echoing from the point of entry. He turns his head, finding the crook of your neck and biting down hard enough you cry out, marking you one last time as he continues to stroke himself with your cunt until every last drop has been drained. 

His cock throbs for a moment before slowly softening inside you as he tries to see straight. You’ve yet to open your eyes, only twitching in overstimulation as he withdraws his hand from between your slippery thighs. He allows you to catch your breath for a moment before lightly pushing himself up off of you, careful not to hurt you. 

You slowly regain the ability to move your body and rollout from underneath him, wobbling legs dropping you back onto the cement instead of allowing you to stand when you try. It’s a struggle to pull up your pants since your legs have decided they no longer want to work, but somehow you manage to get them pulled up and buttoned, Dabi’s cum seeping from between your thighs and staining onto the fabric. Dabi himself hoists himself to his feet, using the wall as support. He’s trying desperately to seem unaffected but you don’t miss the falter of his legs like a newborn fawn when he first rises to his feet. 

“Thanks doll, that was fun.” He somehow manages to bend over and grab his coat from the floor, snaking his arms through the armholes and readjusting it over his chest. “I think I’ll be in touch.”

You raise your head, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You think?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, beginning his walk back down the alleyway where he came from. He turns to look at you one last time, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I might need some more convincing.” 

[yandere-society]

Sugar Rush

Synopsis: You thought the breakup had gone well, but your ex-girlfriend Yoonji didn’t seem to get the message. When you go out with friends to party on Halloween night, you encounter Yoonji in an unexpected way – and you discover just how far she’ll go to get you back.  

Pairing: Min Yoonji x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Yandere themes, blood/mentions of blood, stalking, restraints, safeword violation, torture, suicide mention, gore

Headline: Woman In Sumo Wrestler Suit Assaulted Ex-Girlfriend In Gay Pub After She Waved At Man Dressed As A Snickers Bar

Admin: @psycho-slytherin​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Ooh – gah!”

“Y/n?” Mia pokes her head into the kitchen. Her pupils are pure black, and she looks to be crying blood. “What happened?”

“Ugh, I think my mom sent me these roses and I pricked myself on a thorn,” you reply, sucking on your bleeding finger irritably. You lay down the card that came with the bouquet, which reads See you soon! “You look great.”

“Thanks! I’m a student.” Mia steps forward to reveal a school uniform shirt, sweatpants, and flip-flops. 

“Uh…”

“Cause I’m stu-dying, get it?”

You snort. “Very nice.”

“What are you? You haven’t changed!”

You sigh. “I don’t think I’m going to dress up.” You can’t shake Halloween’s association with her.

“What? But 66 Below has their ‘free drink for a costume’ thing going on. C’mon, why not?”

You shrug, looking at your bleeding finger. Roses always seem to have it out for you. “It was our anniversary.”

“Wait, is this about Yoonji? Y/n, you broke up with her! If you regret it so much, get back together. The girl was head over heels with you, I’m sure she’d be down.”

You shake your head. “I’m not getting back together with her. Definitely not.” You and Yoonji were together for three years, long enough that you had started wondering if it would turn into forever. As time went on, however, you began to notice unnerving little quirks in her behavior. She was scaring you, and you ended things soon after. “Besides, she was always so neurotic that I would cheat on her with a guy.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “Biphobia at its finest. Well, fuck Yoonji. It’s been months – now get dressed. It’s Halloween, and we’re going out! Besides, Aisha is meeting us there.”

You laugh. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I have an extra that I brought with me – it’s an unnecessarily sexy angel, it didn’t fit my sister. Try it!”

Angel. That was Yoonji’s name for you. You sigh, dragging yourself away from the traitorous roses and following Mia down the hall.

Soon enough, Mia is putting the final touches on your makeup. “Ooh, you’re glowing!”

“I don’t know why you sound surprised when it’s your fault,” you retort before catching a look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re wearing a white silky babydoll dress – the kind that you’d only wear in the bedroom. She’d love it. You’re sporting white fishnets and feathered wings, with a golden headband resembling a halo to complete the look. Mia has done your makeup expertly, with lots of rose and gold, so that you look perfectly angelic. You add your favorite rainbow earrings for some added pride. Still, the outfit…

“Isn’t this a little… risque?” Yoonji would never let you wear something like this out.

“I don’t want anyone else laying eyes on my angel,” she would croon in your ear. “You’re all mine. I’ll never let anyone else touch you.”

“It’s Halloween, Y/n, as long as the goods are covered you’re set.”

You peer out of the window. The sun has set, and groups of kids are out in spades for trick-or-treating. You used to love Halloween – it had always been your favorite holiday, long before you and Yoonji made it official four years ago.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

She stared at you for a long time. “Do you promise never to cheat? You’ll be loyal to me alone?”

You laughed. “Of course! I like you, I want to date you!

“In that case…” She leaned forward and kissed you. Her vampire costume meant you got fake blood all over your lips. “Happy Halloween, angel.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Mia nods. Her black contact lenses are… well, they’re not unintimidating. You’re glad to be able to spend this Halloween with her, and not worry about your ex-girlfriend.

66 Below has long been your and Mia’s favorite LGBTQ bar. With its live music, pride flags, and vintage decor, you feel as though you’re stepping into an extra-queer period piece.Yoonji never liked it; she thought it was too crowded. Tonight, almost everyone is dressed up in costume, enjoying 66 Below’s 'first drink free’ policy.

“Mia! Y/n! Over here!” Mia’s girlfriend Aisha gets your attention, waving at you from a booth. You’ve never encountered a more loving couple, and you know Mia’s planning on proposing to her soon. Aisha is dressed as… “Wait, what is she wearing?” You ask as you and Mia join her. Aisha looks like she printed a graded school paper onto white clothing, complete with red marks and typos. Over her heart is a big red F. In response to your quizzical glance, Aisha points to the F.

“Geddit? I’m a failing grade! I specifically wanted to be a final exam, but…”

You laugh. Mia and Aisha must have coordinated that. You scan the bar and note you’re not the only angel. There’s also some devils, ghosts, animals, anime characters, Iron Man, a Snickers bar, two Harry Potters, and – of course – inappropriately sexy children’s cartoon characters. You love Halloween.

“Y/n, c’mon, let’s grab drinks,” Mia says, but her eyes seem unwilling to leave Aisha’s. Their love reminds you of yours… or, what you thought was love. Towards the end of your relationship, you began to realize Yoonji’s idea of love was very different from yours.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get yours. What do you want?”

“You sure?” When you nod, Mia reels off her order. You approach the bar, smiling at your favorite bartender. “Hey, Jaewon!” 

“Do mine eyes deceive me, or is that Y/n beneath the halo?”

Jaewon pretends to be blinded. He’s dressed as what you can only assume is slutty Mario.

“Shush, you. I’ll have an IPA and a margarita, please.”

“Sure thing.”

As you’re waiting for your drinks, the person in the Snickers costume slides into the seat next to you. “Nice costume, angel.”

You stare at him, a brow raised. If you weren’t at a gay bar, you’d think he was flirting. “Thanks, Snickers.”

“Who are you here with?”

You nod at the booth, where Mia and Aisha are now kissing intensely.

“Y’all poly or are you third wheeling?”

You laugh. “The latter. I’m not the relationship type.” Not anymore. Not after you realized how you were so easily manipulated into thinking Yoonji’s behavior was love. But the way she would kiss you, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, tangling her hand in your hair…

“Yeah, I get you. Couples’ costumes are scary by default to me,” the Snickers jokes. “Perfect for Halloween. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“Y/n. Are you here with anyone?”

Namjoon glances around. “I was here with my buddy, but I think he left to fuck one of the Harry Potters. Which is funny, now that I think about it, since he was dressed as Dumbledore.”

You snort. “Oh my god. Well, if you want a group to join, I’ll be third-wheeling over there.” Jaewon reappears with your drinks and a wink.

“I might just take you up on that, angel. Happy Halloween!”

“Hey!” Mia says, finally coming up for air. Miraculously, her bloody tears have stayed put. “Who was that guy you were talking to? He seemed cute!”

“He’s probably gay,” you remind your friend. “He was sweet, though, I invited him to come over if he wanted to – his friend left him. Is that okay?”

Mia and Aisha glance at each other. “Actually, we were wondering…”

You look at the two suspiciously. “Yes?”

“There’s this event happening at 4Sooth,” Aisha says, referencing another bar downtown, “Where the best couples’ costume gets a cash prize. We were thinking… well, zombie student, failing grade…”

Oh. Why did you come here in the first place, then?

“Yeah, you guys totally have a chance!” You offer with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. “Should we go there?”

“The thing is…” Aisha looks at Mia, who shows you the event announcement on her phone.

“Well, the other prize is a night in the ‘Halloween Suite’ at the hotel next door, y’know?” Mia says quickly, a note of pleading in her voice.

Ohhhh. “Right, okay. So… I’ll just stay here, then.”

“Are you sure?” Mia asks anxiously. You can see her on the fence between guilt and excitement.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” You insist. “I’m good at making friends. Have fun!” Just because you have to be alone on Halloween, doesn’t mean Mia and Aisha can’t have a good time.

“You’re the best, Y/n, I owe you!” Mia gives you a quick kiss on each cheek before she and Aisha head out. As soon as they’re out of sight, your smile slips from your face and you sigh, nursing your beer. It’s Halloween, what would have been your and Yoonji’s fourth anniversary, and you’re alone at a bar. Pathetic. You turn to costume-watching, admiring the Big Bird, Dorthy from The Wizard of Oz, a sumo wrestler, and several queer or genderbent characters from all sorts of media.

Namjoon, the Snickers, is looking at you from his seat at the bar. He raises a quizzical brow at the now-empty booth, and you roll your eyes and shake your head in response.

He purses his lips, tipping his glass in acknowledgement.

Wonderful. A bar of candy pities me. You wave, motioning for Namjoon to come join you. You were both alone – why not?

Almost as soon as you lower your hand, several things happen at once: a blur of tan crosses your vision; you hear a loud BANG, and feel a sudden, incomprehensible, searing pain shoot through the back of your head; something warm trickles down your face; there are lips against your ear, whispering words you can’t understand; far-off shouts and screams; and the world goes dark.

“Told you that you’d cheat… you’re just a whore for them… but now you’re all mine again.”

“Mmnn…” you groan, blinking hard. Your head hurts – everything hurts. You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. You’re lying on something soft. Did you go to bed? You move to rub your temple, but your wrist is tugged back by… rope. Rope? Your eyes widen and you begin to struggle furiously against the restraints, yanking until you feel your hands are going to detach themselves. “What the fuck?” Your wrists are tied to bedposts. Shit. Were you drugged? Was it Jaewon the bartender? “HELP! Somebody! Help me!” Your shoes are gone, and – oh, no – your white dress is stained and splattered with blood. Yours? When you try to pull yourself up, your vision floats before you. You can feel warm blood trickling down your head, tickling your scalp. You fall back onto the pillow, trying to force your vision to focus. “Help me…”

Suddenly, you hear heavy footsteps, and a voice that makes you freeze.

“Looks like I nabbed myself a pretty little angel. Talk about fallen from grace, right?”

Your cries for help freeze in your throat. “Yoonji?”

And in walks your ex-girlfriend, the blow-up sumo wrestling suit deflating around her. That flash of tan… so she was there, at 66 Below. Her pristine black bob hasn’t changed in the last few months, and her makeup is perfectly done. As the suit empties, she steps out of it, wearing her favorite outfit of black tights and skirt with a cream blouse.

“Let me go,” you croak. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed in her fist. Your fighting spirit seems to have evaporated in the face of the woman you once loved. It doesn’t make sense… or does it make too much sense? You knew she was possessive – it’s why you ended things. But this? “Yoonji… please. Please.”

Yoonji pretends not to hear you, instead walking around the bed to inspect your restraints. Of course, now that you’ve collected yourself, you recognize her bedroom. In fact, it’s not your first time being tied to these same bedposts.

“Red. Yoonji, please, red,” you try desperately, hoping the safeword might make her relent. For a moment, her cool expression falters. It’s quickly replaced with raw fury.

“You want to try calling red?” She snarls, looking right at you. “You cheated on me. You broke up with me!”

“I never cheated!” You cry, kicking out at her in vain. “You always thought I was cheating on you – I didn’t do anything!”

“I saw you,” she replies, raising a hand and bringing it down hard on your cheek. Your head jerks to the side and you can taste blood. Your face is on fire, it must be, how can it hurt so badly? “It’s our anniversary. I saw you wave at that candy bar.” Another slap leaves your jaw aching. “Fucking whore, do you flirt with every man you see? Girls like you can never be faithful.”

“We’re not together anymore!” You yell, pulling hard on the ropes. They’re much stronger and more coarse than any Yoonji has used with you before, and you bite back a yelp of pain at the rope burn. Your head hurts so much, and your chest is heaving with anxiety. Is she going to kill you? “You’re insane. Let me go – they’ll find out I’m gone. They’ll call the police.” After you and Yoonji broke up, you moved in with Mia. Surely she’ll be concerned when you don’t show up.

Yoonji laughs softly. It’s the way she would laugh when she had a secret. “Well… you did text your housemate to tell her you were going home with the Snickers bar. She’s not expecting you – and that contest is going to keep her at the hotel all night anyways.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. How does she know? “What text? Where’s my phone?”

Yoonji lazily fishes your phone from her pocket. “You really haven’t changed your password?”

“Give that back! Let me go!” You twist your hips and kick hard in her direction, scoring a tiny victory when your phone goes flying from Yoonji’s hand. In the split second that she’s leaned over to retrieve it, you try to see if you can feel any slack at all in the ropes binding your wrists. Yes! There’s something. Maybe your situation isn’t hopeless after all.

Your spirits fall by the wayside when you see Yoonji rise with a terrifying smile on her face. “What a frisky angel, you like to kick, don’t you? Maybe I should tie those lovely legs too.”

“No- don’t touch me! Yoonji, c’mon…” your voice breaks when you see her pull a length of rope from her closet. “W-what are you going to do with me?”

“What am I going to do with you? Exactly what I’ve always wanted to. I’m going to make sure no one else will ever touch you again. You’re mine, angel, you always have been.” Yoonji reaches for your legs and you kick wildly, desperate to escape. Your heart feels like a racehorse in your chest, and sheer adrenaline numbs the throbbing pain in your head.

“Stop… struggling!” Yoonji hisses furiously as she makes a grab for your foot. “Ungrateful bitch. Why are you always trying to get away from me? All I did was love you!”

Now. You slam your heel into her chin, and her head snaps upward with the force of your kick.

For a second you feel like she’s about to crumple to the ground, but instead she lowers her gaze to stare into your soul once more.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Yoonji massages her jaw, and when she speaks, blood drips from between her lips. She begins to pace around the bed, avoiding your kicks. “Bad angel… maybe you’re just a devil in disguise, huh? I always knew you were a dirty fucking liar. And you didn’t even say thank you for the roses.”

The roses? Your eyes widen. See you soon. They were from her? “Fuck you,” You say in response, surreptitiously tugging and relaxing the slack on your right hand’s rope. “I never cheated. You were just scared that I could love men and women. Well, guess what? I loved you! For years, until I realized you never loved me back.”

“What?” You see horror cloud Yoonji’s face. “You fucking bitch. ALL I did was love you!”

You shake your head, determined to keep her talking. She’s out of range of your kicks for now. If you could just get your hands free…

You feel suddenly woozy. Are there two… no, three Yoonjis? Shit. Now is not the time for a concussion.

“You never loved me. You were obsessed and insane. Don’t you hear yourself?” You say, your volume increasing. You know the walls are well-insulated, but she’s still in an apartment complex. Maybe the neighbors will hear? Another tug on the rope. You twist your wrist, and for a second you can feel it loosening. “You only wanted me so that no one else could have me!”

“You’re lying.” Maybe it’s a reflection of your bloody dress, or the blood dripping from her mouth, but for a second her eyes seem to shine red.

You shake your head. You’ve almost got a hand free. “You’re the one who’s lying, Yoonji. You’re lying to yourself.” Dizzy again. “You – ngh – you can just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” Almost got a hand free. How long has it been?

Suddenly Yoonji is looming over you. “Ah, but you forgot.” She spits at you, and a mouthful of scarlet blood hits the white pillowcase. Some of it splatters on your cheek. You keep tugging at the tie around your left hand. It’s much tighter than your right. She’s rummaging in her bedside drawer, and that look in her eyes… you’re scared. “I might’ve let an angel go, but you decided you’re not an angel. You’re a devil. And where do devils belong?”

“Uh…”

“That’s right.” Yoonji shows you what she’s retrieved: a lighter. She walks around the bed to the bottom right corner of the duvet. “Devils like you should stay in hell.”

“Yoonji. Yoonji, what are you –” She lowers the lighter to the duvet, and you see the cloth begin to smoke before a small flame forms on the bed, flickering but gaining in strength. “YOONJI!”

“I told you, Y/n.” Her voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it as she wipes more blood from her chin. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”

“C’mon, please, this is too much,” you say, your voice bleeding into hysteria as you thrash around, trying to kick the burning blanket away from your body. The fire begins to grow, and in your frenzied movement you accidentally burn your foot. You jerk away, yanking at the ropes on your wrists. You’re wearing fishnet stockings – if those catch fire, it’ll travel all the way up your body in a flash. “Let me go! Let me go, you psycho!”

Yoonji makes a pouty face. “Poor baby. Let you go… or what?”

“Please!” You shriek as the fire grows, the smoke now visibly rising from the bed. “Yoonji, I’m sorry, please, please…”

“I missed hearing you beg, my love. What a delicious Halloween treat. And if you need to blame anyone…” Yoonji pauses and smiles. The blood has gotten between her teeth, giving her a terrifying undead look. “Blame that Snickers bar.”

With that, she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Fuck. You tug furiously at your right hand, where the rope has significantly loosened. You can feel the heat from the flames, dangerously close to you. “C’mon, c’mon…” You’re not going to die here, what a terrible headline. Who would write your obituary? You fight through another wave of dizziness. “Fucking hell!” With effort that leaves your muscles trembling, you wriggle your right hand out of its ties, and it quickly flies to your other hand. Maybe you’ll survive.

Unless she locked the door. Yoonji is four floors up. From that height…

You quickly work through the knots on your left wrist, which Yoonji tied so tightly you can’t feel several of your fingers anymore. Faster. Your nails are broken from tearing at the rope, and at one point the nail on your middle finger catches and gets stuck fast in the rope. The fire has spread to the carpet, and thick, black smoke is billowing up. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for the pain – it’s nothing compared to burning alive – and yank your hand back.

“Gah!” It’s a furious pain, for so small a point. The fingernail is ripped off your finger and hangs there as your nail bed bleeds freely. You force yourself to keep moving, to undo the knot or rip the rope off completely but the pain makes it hard to breathe…  or is it the smoke quickly filling the air? With movements made jerky by panic, you at last find a loose end and pull it through the knot. The rope around your wrist loosens and you’re able to slip your hand out. You’re not going to think about the fact that you can’t feel three of your fingers or move them properly. You’re free. You look around wildly, rushing for the door. You rattle the handle, but it’s locked. You can try to kick through it? But what if Yoonji is on the other side of the door, and shoves you back into the flames? The window next to the bed is locked too. But… You bend down and, straining, lift her entire bedside nightstand up. As soon as you stand your legs wobble and threaten to collapse, and you feel blood continue to drip down your neck and back. You stumble, almost to the window, but–

“Ugh-” You lose your grip and the nightstand crashes to the floor, almost on your foot. At that moment, you’re tempted to break down completely. What if you just… gave up? If you go through the window, you’ll probably die in the fall. Through the door, if you can even kick it down, and Yoonji will surely be waiting for you. You could just stay here, where at least death is a merciful certainty.

No – what are you thinking? You have to live. If you die, Yoonji will be free, and you won’t be able to tell your story. If you die now… she wins.

You adjust your stance and, arms trembling, lift the nightstand once more. The air is getting harder to breathe, you don’t know how much longer you have. You heave the nightstand at the window and it crashes straight through the glass, smashing down onto the street four stories below. Wait – the street. It must only be a little past midnight, because you can see some teens and adults still walking the street in costume. Passersby!

“HELP!” You shriek, waving your hand. You’re cut and bleeding in several places from flying glass, and you surely look fit for Halloween.

Wait. Hang on. One of the adults laughs and points up at you. “Great costume!” he yells.

“No, no, no…” the smoke is getting thicker, the fire closer. “Please- please help!” What you need to be a strong yell comes out a broken sob. “There’s a fire! Please help me!”

Two groups seem to realize it’s not just a Halloween prank, and you see some people whip out their phones to call the police. Several more rush forward, but clearly have no plan other than to stand beneath the window.

The police will take too long. You blink through the smoke, which is now visible through the window. You will not burn alive. And you won’t let Yoonji walk free, not after this. You brush the broken glass away from the windowsill and carefully step onto the ledge, a bleeding angel in the night. Your wings and white dress glow in such contrast to the walls that it looks like you’re flying.

You hear gasps and screams, and a “Don’t jump!”

Idiot. As though you have a choice. No, you only have one choice left, and you’re making it count. “My name is Y/n L/n,” You yell, forcing down a smoky cough, “And the person who killed me is Min Yoonji!”

No time to think. You step forward off the ledge, closing your eyes. Forty feet isn’t that far to fall, maybe you’ll make it.

Fucking Snickers bar.

[nachtai-ish]

Thanksgiving at Home (The Re-Up)

plot: a loving shot at my family through the eyes of Chris Evans and Reader.

a/n: ....I’m stupid. Thanks anon who told me that Boston was not in Maine. ...i feel like an idiot.

               “No. It’s your turn.”

               You couldn’t deny it. It was an absolute fact that according to the terms of your agreement that it was, in fact, your turn.

               In the beginning of your relationship, which had started three years ago, holidays had always been a source of frustration. He was from the north, Massachusetts, and you were from the south, Georgia. You wanted to see your family, and he desperately needed to hug his mom.

               So, you decided to split the holiday, you would go home to Georgia and he would go back to Massachusetts. After that first year, you would flip flop who you spent holidays with. That meant that the next year you spent Thanksgiving in Boston with him, and Christmas at home in Georgia with your mother and Sister.

               So yes, that meant it was your turn to spend Thanksgiving with your family. But that didn’t mean you had to be happy about it.

“Seriously, we don’t have to do Thanksgiving in Georgia. I’ll take Christmas again. It’s nicer.” You were sitting on the bed, looking at his half-packed suitcase, Dodger laying next you, his eyes moving to and fro watching his Dad pack a bag of clothes.

“If I wasn’t sure that you loved me, I’d really think you didn’t want me in Georgia.” He looked back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. “You got an old boyfriend you don’t want me to meet there.”

“A? Many. And who said they were old boyfriends. Maybe I’m still seeing them.” You smirked back at him. You couldn’t help but fall into games with your man, even though you were far from light and joyous.

“Watch it.” He pointed at you with a mock serious look on his face. “I hate to have to fight them.”

“I doubt you could take them.” You looked up in the air. “One was a football player; he’s actually playing for the Falcons now.”

Chris looked back at you, a white button down in his hands. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, “Oh yeah. He actually sends me tickets from time to time. There’s actually a game on thanksgiving! Maybe we should go. I’ll send him an email.” You stood up, to grab your laptop.

“Y/n, so help me, I will throw that piece of tin out of the window.” He said, a smile threatening to burst onto his serious face. “Stop fucking with me.”

“I’m not. We should go to a game. We’re going to be in Atlanta anyway. …you know unless we go to Boston.”

Suddenly his eyes lowered and he shook his head, folding the shirt in half and walking towards his open luggage. “Dodger.”

The dog barked softly.

“Tell your mom that she’s got to try a lot harder to get one over on me.”

You rolled your eyes, flopping back onto the bed. You laid back and Dodger took this change to take a position on your stomach, making himself comfortable. “This is so stupid.”

“I mean, you know we bought the tickets, already right? So, the time for you to try all of this plan changing would have been a month ago.” He sat next to you running his hand over Dodger’s body. “And you were so fucking excited. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. …Nothing. I’m just nervous.”

“Why? I’ve met your family.”

You sat up, making sure to do so slowly so Dodger could adjust himself accordingly. “You’ve met my Sisters, their boyfriends, and her mom. Not my family.”

Chris looked at you, “I’m failing to see the problem. So we do some introductions and get to know each other? What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal Christopher Robert Evans-“You had hopped up, Chris grabbing Dodger before you flung him towards in the wall in your movement.

“Ooh Dodger, she used the government name. She’s serious.”

You tried hard not to smile, but couldn’t stop the thing from breaking your serious expression. “Stop it. I’m serious.”

“I know.” He smiled at you, and then rolled his hand around as if to say continue. “Come on lay it on me.”

“I’m from Georgia.”

His eyes shifted from side to side, as if the answer to his confusion was in the room. “I’m from Massachusetts…so what?”

“No, you don’t get it. I’m from Georgia…not Atlanta. My family is from Georgia. There’s a difference.”

In silence of the moment, Dodger slipped out of Chris’ arms into the living room. Chris folded his arms, looking at you.

“…If I get what you’re being obtuse about. You’re trying to say that you don’t want me meeting your overall wearing, one tooth, inbred, backwoods cousins.” He had that smirk again. You wanted to both kiss him and wipe it off of his face.

“Hey! None of my cousins are any of that.”

“Okay then, so what’s the problem.”

               You sighed and sat down, and he pulled you closer to him. You placed your face in his neck, his gold chain pressing slightly against your nose.

“I’m not embarrassed by them…” You said a little muffled by his body. “I just want to say that.”

“Okay… I’m listening.”

You sighed again, pulling back from him. “…It’s just…like…okay. Your family, like the house was put together and everyone was sitting around the table. We passed plates and it was all very nice.”

“Okay, and at Christmas at your mom’s we sat around the table and we didn’t pass plates but no one needs to do that. It was nice too.”

“But it’s not going to be like that at Thanksgiving Chris. Most of my immediate family will be there. The table we at for Christmas will be covered in food. We’re going to walk around the table buffet style, and everyone’s going to sit around the house, wherever they can fit. There will be no real plates, no real spoons. There’s probably going to be a kids area that will be messy.”

“Kids are messy everywhere baby.”

“I’m not done. There will be foreign foods. Oxtails, and chitterlings. Dressing…not stuffing.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“It is not!” You shook your head. “It’s totally different. There are going to be several things going on too. My uncle is going to sit in the middle of the room, with tequila, a lime, and he’s going to tell stories we’ve all heard 18 million times. He’s going to curse and we’re all going to be annoyed. My younger cousins are going to sneak out of the house, stand in a huddle behind the house and smoke weed, and talk about us old folks. My grandma is going to get drunk on Sparkling Cider, and probably try to flirt with you, and you better flirt back Chris.”

He chuckled then rubbing your back, “Of course I will. Now are you-“

“And I haven’t even told you about Spades.”

“Spades?” He found your eyes. “Like the card game.”

“Yeah. Spades goes down at Thanksgiving, and it is SERIOUS Chris. It’s like war, but less civilized.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up walking back into the closet, “You’re being dramatic now.”

“I’ve seen my cousin pull a gun out on somebody who reneged. I SEENT IT.”

“So okay, I won’t play spades.”

“What? And look like a bitch in front of all my cousins. You’ll never live it down. They’ll be at our wedding giving a toast like, ‘Hey Chris is a cool white dude, but he still a bitch cause he won’t play Spades with us’. I don’t want to be the cousin who married a white dude who won’t play spades. I can’t do it. I’ll be the black sheep.”

Chris gripped your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him. “Breathe baby.”

And you did.

“Again. Good and deep.”

And you did again.

“You feel better?”

You did, so you nodded.

“Good. Now, I’m saying this because I love you.” He grabbed your shoulders and shook you back and forth. “You’re acting like a nut.”

“I know. I know.” You said when he let you go. “I just want them to like you.”

He kissed your forehead. “They will like me. I mean how could they not first of all?” He grinned at you making you roll your eyes. He smoothed his hand down the side of your face, “And even if they don’t like me right away, they’ll grow to like me. And if they don’t…” He kissed you softly, soundly. “It doesn’t matter. I love you. You love me. And that’s all that matters. Okay?”

You closed your eyes, nodding. “Okay.”

“Say it.” He commanded gently.

“I love you. You love me. That’s all that matters.” You opened your eyes and your irises met his, you felt calmer.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now pack, boarding is at 8.”

--

               Atlanta never failed to take your breath away. It was so familiar, yet every time you returned there was always something new being built or done. You pointed out so many spots that you wanted to see before you returned to Los Angeles, and Chris made sure to note them all down on his phone wanting you to enjoy your time home as much as you could.

               After your father died, your mother decided that the deep south had nothing to offer you and your sisters anymore and decided to uproot you from all that you knew. Suddenly you were nearly two hours from the bulk of your family, living in a suburb of Atlanta that you knew no one in. It wasn’t your home at first, but eventually you had come to love Atlanta as much as you loved your little small town in Southern Georgia.

               As you came closer to your neighborhood you began to point of places of significance.

“There used to be this spot right there. Oh my god, they used to have the best hot wings. Like everyone tends to rave over American Deli, but they had better wings than anything I’ve ever tasted.” You said as you passed a spot that was under construction.

As you passed through the opening of the subdivision of your neighborhood, you smiled and pointed at the sign. “The neighborhood kids all used to hang around that sign. I had my first real kiss right there.”

Chris raised one of his eyebrows, “Real kiss?”

You smirked, “Tongue.”

He chuckled. “How old were you?”

“13.”

“Weak. I was 12.”

“Lie.”

“It is not a lie.”

“Chris, you’re about to pass it.”

“Shit!” He pressed on breaks, making you skid slightly to a stop a few inches away from your house.

               There were cars parked along the side of the road, a few on the grass without care to your mom’s poor lawn. You figured you’d be a little late, traffic was heavy, the airport had been busy of course, but …this was a Black family thanksgiving. 1 meant 3, not 2:30.

“Fuck. We’re walking right into it.” You said, sighing.

“Will you calm down? It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re definitely fine.” He waggled his eyebrows a little making you smile and then really smile when his eyes traveled down your white knit sweater dress covered body to the camel colored knee-high boots that he nearly begged you to wear.

You reached over and adjusted the collar of his white cable knit crew neck under his camel colored jacket. He wore a pair of khaki trousers, that you thought gave him an air of formal to go with his more casual upper attire. “You’re pretty fine too.” You smiled and leaned over to kiss him-

Thump.

But you jumped instead when your sister appeared at your window, somehow sneaking up on you. You rolled your eyes, sighing and rolling down the window.

“Hello Cassie.”

“Hello Y/n.” She grinned. “Hey Chris, I’m so happy my sister is no longer hiding your beauty from the world.”

“Hey Cass. Glad to see you again.”

“Glad to see you too.” She smirked.

You thumped her forehead, “What did I say about flirting with my boyfriend?”

“Don’t do it when you’re around?” She joked.

“Wrong, you little bitch.”

She laughed.

You grinned too. “Where’s Falen?”

“Feeding Cam. He’s so chunky.”

“I can’t wait to hold him.” You smiled at Chris. He grinned back at you. You had been talking about kissing all over your nephew for a month now.

“Well if you stop hiding in this…very nice car. You can. Come on Chris, everyone is really excited to meet you.”

               And just like that you were following behind your boyfriend and your little sister into what could be a doomed thanksgiving from hell. You nervously followed them into the house, not joining in on the conversation as Chris and Cassie talked about politics. Turning without much fuss, as Chris took off your duster and hung it in the closet, doing the same with his jacket.

You only followed numbly as you walked through the opening to your home, heart beating faster as the sounds of your family got louder. Just as it was at it’s peak, you gripped Chris’s hand, stopping in your tracks therefore stopping him.

He looked back at you, Cassie kept walking still somehow talking about how Biden was not the President we wanted or needed. You looked up at him, not able to say anything only looking up at him with wide eyes.

His lips were on your forehead quickly, placing three kisses in succession, one there, then your nose, and finally your lips. Silently he reassured you that things would be fine, and together you stepped through the threshold into your family room.

               Gatherings could be a lot for you. In a lot of the memories of the gatherings attended by you in your youth, you could only remember being a fly on the wall. Choosing to instead be passive instead of active like your sisters and your cousins. You weren’t anti-social, but you felt more comfortable laughing at the jokes then trying to tell them.

As you grew it got a little better, but you never felt quite comfortable in big group of people. In fact, after an event such as this one, you often needed to sleep for a long time. When you told Chris this before your first Thanksgiving with his family, he admitted to being kind of the same. He might not need to sleep after a big event, but he wasn’t quite the social butterfly either. It made you happy that he understood when you had to excuse yourself from drinking eggnog with the family late into the night. It made you even happier when he told you the next morning that his family understood too.

               With your family it was much of the same, your family understood that you weren’t the loudest and most of the time they were too busy being loud themselves to need you to be just as loud as them. It was just enough for you to be there sharing in the love of the family.

But not this time.

This time all the attention was on you and it was time to speak up.

               “So, Chris…where did you two meet?” The slight drawl of your Aunt cut through the sounds of The Temptations singing Silent Night, a favorite of your mom’s anytime of year…obviously.

“Uh, she…I mean Y’N was a consultant on a movie I was doing. I saw her and she was too beautiful for me not to get to know. So I asked her out for coffee.” He smiled at you then. “She said no.”

“You said no?” One of your male cousins, Taylor, called out. “Shiiit, if I was a girl I would have jumped on his ass.” He sucked his teeth. “Hell, shit, I’d jump right now. He got hella money.”

The room erupted into laughter and all of sudden the ice was broken. Chris was no longer an interloper…well he was, but he was no longer covered in plastic. He could be touched, he could be handled, he could be interwoven into the group.

You sighed, a little of your worry dissipating.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

                 To his credit, if anything was making him feel uncomfortable, he was taking it in stride. Chris had enjoyed when all your little cousins came up to him and asked him questions about Captain America, and asked if he was always Captain America or just on TV. You could tell because when he smiled, his face creased. He even did a few poses for them, which they loved.

When one of your cousins, Devontae, came over to Chris with a bottle of something clear and a smile you knew that this one would be a little harder. But again, he took it in stride as Devontae pitched him an idea of a TV show with talking Weed Plants, kind of like Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Chris simply smiled through it, shaking his head when you made eyes at him obviously getting the message that you could save him if he wanted you to. After Devontae walked away needing to captivate the attention of at least 5 other people in the room.

He was considerably more relaxed in a group of the male cousins you had grown up around. They had formed a sort of semi-circle, Chris in the middle with a long neck beer in his hand, nodding at what ever George had to say.

“Chris is doing good.” Falen said, leaning over slightly, adjusting Camden’s bib while he was in your arms.

“Yeah. He’s really fitting in.” You smiled and then cooed at Cam bouncing on his knee. “I want to take him home.”

“He’s yours. I’ll sign the papers today.” Falen joked. “So, it’s serious then.”

“What?”

“What?” Falen mimicked you, rolling your eyes reminding you of yourself. “You and Chris.”

“You know it’s serious Fay.” You mom chimed in. “She brought him home.”

“I brought him to Christmas last year.”

“Thanksgiving is different and you know it.” Your mom said pointing her wine glass in your direction.

“I told him that.” You mumbled, looking down at Camden who only looked back up you with sweet innocent brown eyes.

“Well I’m glad you are trying to lock him down. You two match, you know.” Falen grinned.

“And the matching outfits were just the right touch.” Cassie chimed in smirking at you.

You flipped her off, discreetly. Your grandma was still in front of you…although already sleeping.

“Shut up Cassie.” Falen chuckled. “Seriously. …I think he might propose soon.”

You chuckled shaking your head, “Nah. I don’t think so.”

Falen grinned, “If you say so little sis.” She patted her knee and then looked around. “Ma! When’s the food going to be ready. You said 1!”

“You know that means 3. Don’t get brand new in front of Chris.” You smirked.

               The spread of food was glorious. A beautiful turkey, a delicious ham from Honeybaked Ham cause no one had perfected the art of making a good ham, a huge pan of cornbread dressing collectively called dressing, two pans of Macaroni and Cheese cause one pan never survived your family’s greedy hands, turnips, collard greens and cabbages, cornbread muffins, hoe cakes, yams with marshmallow topping (your Auntie’s one and only dish that tasted okay), and a plate of various pieces of fried chicken. But none of this would be complete without your mother’s potato salad.

It was a feast to end all feasts. A dinner you dreamed about. You would have cried if it wouldn’t have made you look crazy. Chris held two thick paper plates, one for him and one for you, while you held Cam who you were never going to give back. You patted the baby’s back, he had just had a bottle full of milk thickened with a little baby rice, a special treat for Thanksgiving (it was your grandma’s idea).

“Come on little Cam, burp. Chris, more dressing. That’s not enough. It’s gotta be nearly half the plate. And you gotta put the cranberry sauce on top.” You said.  It was comical to watch Chris hold his plate, your plate, and also try to ladle dressing onto a plate.

“Here.” You chuckled holding out Cam. “You hold my new baby. And I’ll make our food.”

“No, wait. I need to ask your sister if I can hold him first.” He said looking around for Falen.

“It’s fine, you won’t drop him cause if you do I’ll kill you.” You smirked at him.

“I need to wash my hands.”

You rolled your eyes, “Now who’s acting like a nut.” You took one plate from him then the other sitting them down and then walked into his personal space. He opened up for you almost cradling you and Cam.

“Now I know you have held a baby before, so don’t freak out now.” You handed him off to Chris and he instantly held the Camden in his arms, supporting him as Cam settled in the crook of his neck. You looked at the sight, your man holding a little brown boy, and you could almost imagine that Camden was your baby.

Your stomach flip flopped, and you gnawed down on your lip at the sight.

Chris smirked, knowing exactly what was on your mind. “Make the food.”

“I am. I am.” You chuckled, not daring to look at any of your family members.

“Ohhhhh, we’re making plates now. Okay, Y’n!” Julie, your Aunt’s daughter called out, making you chuckle in embarrassment.

Making plates had a lot of connotations in black families. It all but signaled that Chris was your man and you were totally subservient to him.

“You want some yams baby?” You said putting on a sickly-sweet voice to amuse your family members.

The room filled with Awws and whipping noises at your question. You turned and found Chris’s face red, but he was still patting Cam’s back like you had been doing.

“He didn’t burp yet?” You asked.

“Not yet, I don’t think.”

“Mm. We probably need to get you a burping towel. It might be-“

The wet burping noise stopped your sentence stopped you in your tracks, making you look up at your man who was looking down at Cam, who was looking quite satisfied at the burp he had just let out and the off white spit up stain he left on Chris’ shirt.

“Oh no babe.” You laughed a little.

“He spit up a little.” He said, a little amusement in his voice.

“Yeah. Good job baby boy.” You rubbed Cam’s back.

“Oh nooo. I’m so sorry Chris.” Falen came over easing Cam out of Chris’s arms, which made him a little agitated. “I can pay for dry cleaning.” She frowned a little.

“No. No. No. It’s fine. It’s just a little spit up. No need for all of that.” He laughed.

“Well Y’N, at least go try to clean it up.” You mom said. “We have tide pens and stuff in the upstairs guest bathroom.”

Your mouth opened up, jaw hanging a little, “But my food! It’s gonna get cold.”

Your mother put her hands on her hips, “Well yeah it is, cause you’re sitting here back talking me instead of getting your behind up those stairs and cleaning his shirt. Now go.”

“Yes mam.” You put the plates down on a slightly clear space on the table and grabbed Chris’s hand. “Come on Chris.”

--

Chris sat on the edge of the tub and watched you as you washed Cam’s spit up out of his shirt.

“Dang it Cam. Now my food is getting cold.” You muttered.

“You’re calmer.” He commented.

You looked over at him. He was only wearing his pants, a tank top, his pendant necklace hanging off his neck. He looked…really good.

“Yeah. It’s been a good day.” You nodded, putting more hand soap on his sweater. “Are you having fun?” You looked over at him, hoping that he would say yes even if he didn’t mean it.

“A blast honestly. Your family is so warm, and inviting. So funny. And I love how they love you.” He hitched his pants up and stood, walking over you and standing behind you in the mirror. You looked at his reflection, his shirt momentarily forgotten.

“But you know what I love even more?”

You smiled, “Me.”

He grinned too, kissing the top of your head, “…Your mom’s potato salad.”

You turned around and smacked his chest with a wet hand making a loud noise.

“What it’s so good. Oh my god. Get that recipe.” He chuckled and pulled you close to him wrapping his arms around you. You looked up at him, kissing his chin. “No, seriously. I love how bright you’re smiling. How happy you are to be home. How relaxed you are. That accent you have slipped back into.”

“I did not.”

“Oh yes you did.” He smirked. “But I love how you, you are right here in this house. …I would give up every thanksgiving to see you be this relaxed.”

“I love you Chris.” You said quietly.

“I love you. So much.”

               And then he kissed you.

And you wished you could say that kiss lasted forever, or went on and on but of course-

Knock, Knock.

“Yn, Mama said no fornication in her Christian household.” Cassie shouted.

               And you both laughed.

   Epilogue

               You placed Cam down on your Mother’s bed, patting his back and kissing his head.

“He’s an angel. Ugh, we’re going to be here tomorrow and you better be here.” You said to Falen pointing at straight index finger at her.

“I will be. I’m not letting yall eat up all the leftovers.” She rolled her eyes and then smiled at Chris. “You did really good with Camden today Chris.”

“He’s a sweet baby. I did nothing.” Chris shrugged.

“So…planning to have some of your own?”

“Oh kay, we’re leaving now. Tell mom I see her tomorrow and Cassie I will see her tomorrow and to eat a dick.” You gripped Chris’ hand pulling him to the coat closet, allowing him to help you into your coat, and helping him smooth out his jacket.

“Goodnight everyone!” He called out, earning many well wishes as he walked out.

“Oh shit.”

You walked out of the door, focusing on closing the door after yourself. “What’s wrong, is there a big dog out her or-“ You looked up and almost laughed.

Damien, your ex-boyfriend the Falcon football player was standing in front of you two. A bag in one hand and a smile on his face.

“Oh shit, Damien. I can’t believe you’re here!” You passed Chris, hugging Damien.

“Oh yeah. I always come out to your mom’s house after the games. Can’t pass up on the potato salad.” He smiled, sharing a laugh with you and then smiling at Chris. “So this is the dude. Nice to meet you man. I love Captain America.”

Chris shook off the shock, and stuck out his hand, shaking with Damien. “Thank you. And you’re a great football player.”

“Thank you man. Yall need to come out to a game. I’m always offering your girl here tickets but she says you’re a Patriot fan.”

“Oh yeah, gotta go with the home team.”

“Respect man.”

               Chris and Damien talked for another couple of minutes before Damien excused himself into the house. Chris looked at you, shock written on his face.

You smirked, “You thought I was bullshitting you didn’t you?”

Chris shook his head, taking your hand and walking towards the rental car. “When we get home, I’m throwing that piece of tin out of the window and you’re changing your email.”

You smirked.

“Jealous.”

[lizzie-wendigo]

Well, this takes a long time as a WIP, but after the Abyss redesign, I decided to change the pose of Abyss. Well, I decided to do the story of how they met.  By the way, if you pay attention to the book Abyss reads, it's a pun on the name of the author of the book: "Mary Shelley" ------------------------------------

After a long day, Spade was preparing to rest in his favorite place, an old weeping willow tree near the park. This willow tree was special, it was quiet, the breeze blew warmly and it was near a lake that led to the sea, and the best thing is that it was isolated, without being disturbed by anyone. This day would be different, because when he arrived he found a strange girl sitting in his place reading a book, at first spade got upset and thought about leaving, but he really wanted to rest for a while, and the girl didn't seem to be noisy or annoying, so decided to try to talk to her... "Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?" Spade said approaching. "This is my special place." "I have no problem, go ahead..." Abyss said without taking her eyes off the book. They were silent for several minutes, each lost in thought, yet Spade couldn't help noticing the book Abyss was reading. "Good book, a classic" Spade said.

"Excuse me?" Abyss said. "The book, Frankenstein, is a classic"  "Oh right, it is..." Abyss said without looking away from the reading. "I have read it 4 times, this is the fifth" "Your favorite book?" Spade asked "Something like that" Abyss commented "I feel identified with this book, reading it brings me comfort" "Well, you don't look very comfortable" "why do you mention it?" "You're reading a book alone under a tree away from others... Maybe you are sad" Abyss became annoyed and stopped reading, throwing an annoyed look and a little growl, which made Spade jump. Abyss immediately calmed down, again changing his expression to a sad one. "I haven't had a good day" Abyss said with a sigh. "Of course uhh... it was just a guess" Spade said a little uncomfortable and sitting up again in his place "We all have a bad day"

"I just decided to escape from everything for a moment and get distracted with a book" Abyss said as he took back the book that he dropped a few moments ago. "Dr. Frankenstein's monster. A creature made from putrid parts of the random dead buried in a graveyard, confused and trapped living in a world that wants to kill you just for being different. He will never be able to rest in peace because of a mad scientist who only wanted to play God and create life. He did him like this, unable to find friendship or love, making him suffer because he treats him like a beast... Victor Frankenstein is the real monster..." There was silence and spade looked at her indifferent and at the same time moved by what Abyss had said... "Sorry, I'm crazy, don't listen to me" Abyss said, looking away "It shows that you want to talk about it" Spade said very chivalrous "Yes, but nobody cares, I have no one to talk to" "I can make you at least choke on what frustrates you" Abyss looked at him a little doubtful, but she really needed it and she couldn't refuse, so she sighed deeply... "Today I had a fight with my cousin..." Abyss said sad with downcast eyes "Your cousin?" Spade asked "I have no siblings, and to me, he is like my older brother: Gum, him and my second cousin: Sheriff. We always played together, and neither of us could make friends, 'cause we are mixed race, that's why we had each other. Time passed and Sheriff got a girlfriend, and spent a lot of time with her, we were happy for him, at least he has someone else. But... the problem started a month ago... Gum started making friends... they were friends his age, and almost the same as him. They were also mixed race and male, they soon became friends with Gum, and little by little he was moving further away from me.  I have been practicing to show the native dance show in the park, I'm part of the dancers. I wanted to invite him to see him more often, but when I went to see him, I was with his friends... and he was negotiating to meet me. He said he didn't know who I was" Said Abyss holding back the tears in her eyes, while Spade listened to her with attention" I argued and fought with him, and now I only borrow books the library to read away from people. I'm alone." There was silence, while Spade thought about it... "If your cousins could get friends, why do you think you couldn't?" Spade asked somewhat indifferently "Look at me! people don't even want to get close to me. They thinks that if they look at me I'll turn them to stone for pleasure, that I'll devour everything they give me like a wild dog, or that I'm too stupid to understand a damn simpler game than tying their damn shoelaces. Not even those from the native show want me in the group, they accepted me just because I have a mermaid descent and I dance very well... anyway... I plan to quit the group... "You shouldn't do it. If you like, just do it without caring that others judge you" Spade said looking into her eyes. "You shouldn't let what people think of you affect you either, believe me, I recognize a damn beast when I see it. I live with hateful creatures, and of all of them, I think you are the most civilized person I know. "you think so?" Abyss said as her eyes lit up

"Of course. Besides, I don't mind your company. I don't usually live with many people, or with people who are too happy, they're not to my liking. But I wouldn't mind living with you" "...?" "WAIT! NOT IN THAT WAY!" Spade yelled blushing "I mean! just for company!" And that silence was broken by the laugh of Abyss, who seemed more animated now, showing her true personality and smiling at her new friend, As Spade gazed at her sharp-toothed smile and lake-lit eyes, it seemed beautiful to him... "You know, there're other books that I have read, and I would like to talk about them one day. Maybe some of them you like" Abyss said with a smile "What..? Oh, sure! the books... Uhh..." Spade answered a little nervous while he blushed" Sure... It would be good, to meet again soon. "Then I'll see you soon" Abyss got up and extended her hand to Spade as a sign of farewell, and he took it shaking it... "By the way, we haven't formally introduced ourselves. "Sapde said "I'm Spade Dice you can call me Spade" "I am Abyss Maria Mug. Call me Abyss. I have to go... I have a show where to dance. And if... if you want to go... you can attend, it's public. See you soon spade!" Abyss ran away, while Spade watched her from afar sitting under the willow tree ... "Abyss... What a peculiar name. Very... elegant" He thought. "I wasn't at all interested in being her friend when I saw her, but... I think I wouldn't mind spending more time with her..." Spade watched her go as she blushed slightly, letting out a light sigh... ----------------------------------------------

My writing is HORRIBLE! I know... but at least I tried. Well, as you saw, this happened 2 years ago, so Abyss was 11, Sheriff 13 and Gum 14. All teenagers do that at some point in their lives. (Besides that I was watching Onward and the younger brother inspired me, I hate him) But Gum was sorry, he really felt very bad for having denied his cousin, and obviously he learned the lesson, since currently he doesn't deny it at all and he loves her as she is, that is a sign of maturity, don't you think? By the way, Spade developed an almost immediate crush for Abyss. Cute :3

[jellyfishjuliet]

How about (Munna Bhai) for pre-massacred Licht with young Patri, Sephirah's Apostles and the Elf Tribe in general?

Hello Anon, thank you for requesting! I’m a sucker for romance, so this fic also includes some romance, namely Patolli/William and Licht/Tetia. Thank you for requesting, and enjoy!

Additionally, to all readers, Bollywood Prompts are now closed! Thanks to everyone who requested a fic! I have nine more to get through, and hope to finish them all by the end of the year. Happy reading, everyone!

~~

Ronne made a silent note of it, of course. The human royal had only begun to visit regularly some weeks prior, so maybe, just maybe Ronne was making bold assumptions based on too few facts. Maybe there wasn't any correlation between the stolen gazes and Licht's sweaty palms. Maybe they were mere coincidences, and Ronne could accept that.

Except Ronne was never wrong.

Rhya figured it out not too long after, and once Rhya caught on, it was only a matter of time until everyone else did. One by one, Licht's inner circle came to know, and little by little, Licht stopped hiding it.

They announced their pregnancy just months later.

*

“You can't keep avoiding her forever you know,” Ronne remarked one late afternoon. He was husking corn for the evening, and Patolli was supposed to be helping him, but the boy had sat by the river brooding instead of helping Ronne shuck and clean the vegetables.

“I'm not avoiding her,” the boy retorted, biting the inside of his cheek. He was fuming, which disappointed Ronne more than anything.

“You are, and it's hurting Licht's feelings,” Ronne lied smoothly, because Rhya was only half as good as him when it came to the deception game, and because everyone but Patolli knew that Licht was too enamored, too busy with his beautiful lover and their future child to focus on the grievances of one lone teen.

“He's going to marry her, you know,” Ronne added some minutes later. “If you want to be Licht's bodyguard when you get your grimoire, then you have to guard her as well – and all of their children.”

“Why?” He snapped back, his eyes burning with hatred and just a twinge of pain.

Ronne sighed deeply before speaking again. “Because he loves her.”

*

Rhya told Patolli the same, Reve made some vague remarks about the power of moving forward, and Fana just pulled him into the forest, sat him down on the ground, and told him every single detail of Licht and Tetia's impending marriage so that he could get it through his head that the time for dreaming was over.

Vetto understood, however.

“It happens in phases,” he told him one night while the little boy was out crying in the field, accompanied by Vetto's little squirrels. “You live, you love, you move on, and you love again. It's a cycle, Patolli. It doesn't end with one person.”

Snot covered Patolli's upper lip and his eyes ran wet with tears. When he tried to speak, all he managed were wheezes before the sobbing intensified. Vetto reached for a handful of wildflowers and plucked them from the ground. He carefully pulled off the dirt and roots, and handed the bunch to Patolli who sobbed as he cradled them in his arms.

“Look at those, and tell me if any one of them is the same as the other,” Vetto instructed him gently. It took several more minutes before Patolli's sobs petered out into hiccups and his eyes cleared enough to peer at the flowers in his hand.

Patolli was done before Vetto could finish counting the minute.

“No,” Patolli grumbled with a sniff.

Vetto could only smile. “And?”

“... They're pretty,” Patolli said awkwardly.

“And?”

“They're flowers!”

“Aaaand?” Vetto had to bite back the chortle.

“They're pretty flowers and they're all different!” Patolli screeched, the tears replaced with fury, his cheeks flushed with childish exasperation.

Vetto burst out laughing, unable to hold back the mirth bubbling in his throat. Patolli stared, gob-smacked, before grumbling underneath his breath. He chewed his cheek and stroked the flowers in his hands while Vetto tried to stifle the laughs.

“Good!” The older man finally wheezed, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “Good,” he repeated when he witnessed a forlorn look settle in Patolli's golden brown eyes. “Good,” he said for a third time. “Every flower in this field is beautiful, and every single one is different from the other. When we pick them for our friends and family, we never pick the same ones. We want to give our loved ones all the colors of the world, because we love them in every which way that we can. These flowers, Patolli, they're wild and they have no masters, and we too are slaves to their beauty and warmth, because we want to give their beauty and their warmth to the ones we love the most.”

“I'm not giving Ratri any flowers,” he retorted.

“But you give your mother flowers all the time,” Vetto teased. “It's because you love her, don't you? I know you love your brother as well, but Ratri doesn't much appreciate the subtleties of gifting, but your mother does. You give your mother flowers because you treasure her, and because she treasures you.”

“Hmph,” Patolli huffed, giving Vetto the side-eye.

“And you know that she treasures every flower you give her, no matter how different they are,” Vetto added gently.

“What's your point?” Patolli grumbled, shoulders defeated and fingers still entangled in flowers.

Vetto could see the tears begin to form in the boy's eyes again, and so he turned away and looked up at the moon. “Imagine the flowers in your hands are people,” he began softly, his squirrels nibbling away at the nuts they'd picked from Vetto's pockets. “Imagine that every time you loved someone new, you picked a flower from this field. Over the years, you accumulate hundreds of flowers, each different from the last, and as the years go by, some wither away, while others persist until they too fade away.”

A sob hitched in Patolli's throat, and the little boy began to cry again.

Vetto kept his eyes on the moon. “Imagine Licht was your first flower, Patolli. Imagine him as the most vibrant flower you've ever picked, and the one you cherish the most right now. Give it the respect it deserves, and accept that your heart has chosen what it's chosen.”

Patolli's sobs echoed through the field as the squirrels continued to nibble at their nuts, while Vetto stared longingly at the bright, full moon. “And when it perishes, bury it with honor. There's no shame in loving, little one, but letting go is a part of that process.”

“No!” Patolli snarled back, his sobs getting worse as the evening persisted and the squirrels nibbled away.

“And when you least expect it,” Vetto continued, gaze fixed on the beautiful moon up above, “another flower will come along, and it will be a flower you least expect to love, and yet you will. You will love so greatly that even the sun and moon won't be able to withstand your love. Trust this if nothing else, Patolli. You will love again.”

*

And he did. A thousand years later, at the gates of the Spade Kingdom, Vetto stood next to his kin in rippling white and black armor as Patolli broke down the gates with a single swipe of his sword. The demons came quickly and so they rode through the swarm with their weapons poised, Fana's great fire breathing Hell down upon anyone who stood in their way.

A thousand years after their deaths, a flower was born. It was a flower few would call pretty, and yet that flower kept Patolli safe in his chest until it was his time.

Vetto hid his smile as they charged through the corridors to where the victims lay chained, like heroes out of fairy tales long dead. They fought every step of the way until they broke down the doors to the roof, cut through the black magic that held down the sacrifices, and finally breathed a sigh of relief as they awoke from their days long sleep.

“William,” Patolli said softly, cradling his beloved in arms much like he cradled those wildflowers one thousand years ago.

“Patolli,” the human croaked in response, “is that you?”

“Yes, my love,” Patolli said hoarsely, voice breaking finally as he pulled the human against his chest and held him tight, kissed along his shoulders and neck before burying his face in his bloodied hair.

And Vetto watched as Patolli cried once more, but this time with relief – this time with love that could defeat even the fists of a thousand demons.

*

Yami Sukehiro snorted from his position on the floor. “We're gonna die if they don't stop making out.”

“I believe your human friends will be here with transport soon,” Vetto said plainly.

“Scarface hasn't brushed his teeth in like... how long have we been here?”

“Three days!” Fana piped up.

“In three days,” Yami continued. “Your buddy's making out with three days worth of bacteria.”

“He's done worse,” Rhya drawled.

“I'm so glad Pato found someone,” Fana sighed with relief. “Thought he would never get over that schoolboy crush!”

“Lady, you thinking stabbing our king and tryna resurrect your entire tribe was over a schoolboy crush?” Yami asked, deadly serious.

Fana waved her hand nonchalantly. “Oh, of course, Pato is just a little emotional, is all!”

“Never mind,” Yami grumbled, laying back down and staring at the sky. He thought he could see the moon peeking out from behind the clouds. “Anybody gotta cigarette?”

Rhya lit a stick and handed it to the large man. They sat still, some smoking, some chatting idly, oddly content while the rest of the heroes gathered to take them all back to their respective homes.

And just a few feet away, Patolli kissed William tenderly underneath the beautiful night sky.

*

[changingourdestiny]

Season of the Hunt Finale: A True Hunter

Summary:

It’s finally over. The Celebrant is defeated. Spider no longer has a hold on Crow. The only left question is now what?

Previous Part: Here

Spider let out a small growl as he heard the laughter of the four Guardians outside the lair. He muttered a curse in Eliksni as he sat back in his chair.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Spider’s attention snapped to his left as Marcia decloaked, leaning against a pile of crates that were stacked against the wall. The guards went to raise their spears, but Spider raised a hand, stopping them. “What do you want, Marcia?” Spider growled, “I’m not in the mood for your ‘antics’.”

“I’ll say.” Marcia chuckled, “I just snuck in to see the end result of Paralight’s one-on-one with the Celebrant. Y’know, you always talk about how Drifter and I can’t seem to keep our mouths shut…and yet it was your big mouth that got your ‘little bird’ taken away. “Anything in the lair.” Honestly, how did you think that would end?”

Spider narrowed his eyes at Marcia as she stood up straight, “But if you want me to be honest here…I came here to give you a titbit of advice.”

“And that is…?”

Marcia’s expression turned serious, “Don’t underestimate Rae. She ain’t the same Guardian that walked in here two years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well first off, she seems to be taking my advice. She’s started making her own rules and is starting to find things out for herself instead of taking the Vanguard’s word for granted. She’s beginning to think for herself. Secondly, and honestly more seriously, she’s got a new trick now.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of Stasis.” Spider replied dismissively.

“Not Stasis.”

Spider seemed intrigued as Marcia continued, “She calls it Darknebula. And from what I can tell, it works in the opposite way to Starlight.”

“Explain.”

“Starlight is triggered by the desire to protect and preserve life. Darknebula works in the opposite way: it’s triggered by the desire to kill and destroy it.” Marcia explained, “Basically, if someone was to, oh I don’t know…maybe anger her to the point of her wanting to completely annihilate them – whether she realises it or not – she becomes a feral killing machine that doesn’t stop until the source of that desire is dead. This is a warning, Spider. If she’s done following the Vanguard’s rules and you push her too far, it’s game over for you. I’ve seen that form first-hand when she was up against Eramis. Now the kell of Salvation is an ice sculpture on Europa.”

Spider just hmphed in response, “If she kills me, she loses her best ally on the Shore.”

Marcia laughed, “Oho, really? I look forward to seeing you try to tell that to a feral, acting-on-instinct Rae who has lost all sense of logic and reasoning. Hell, I’ll be impressed if you get more than a word out!” Marcia began to walk out, “Like I said, just a lil’ bit of advice for ya. Take it if ya want. See ya!”

Spider grumbled as he leaned back in his chair, watching the rogue leave.

“I hate that Hunter…”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a few weeks since the High Celebrants defeat. Spider had sent an engineer to remove the explosives from Glint’s shell, officially ending his hold on Crow and his Ghost. However, there were still remaining Wrathborns lurking in the Shore and the Dreaming City, so Crow had remained in the lair to aid Paralight in wiping them out. The last of them had finally been wiped out and the cryptoliths had begun to decay without the Celebrant maintaining them. The hunt had finally come to a close.

Crow leaned on his workbench, deep in thought, but was pulled out by his vision suddenly going dark as two hands covered his eyes from behind.

“Guess who!”

“Rae?” Crow guessed with a smirk, “No, wait. It’s Marcia!”

“I don’t smell that bad!”

“Ha! I know it’s you, Blaze.”

Blaze removed her hands from Crow’s eyes and plopped her head on his shoulder, “Yup!” Crow poked Blaze’s forehead, “Bang.”

“Gah! Crow has killed the Celebrant! Curse you, Guardiaaaaans!” Blaze dramatically sunk to the floor while Crow laughed at her performance before motioning to her armour, “New look?”

Blaze’s usual blue and gold armour had been swapped for red and gold armour, a bit similar to her very first set. Her cloak, gloves and skirt looked like fiery feathers with her boots matching the upper half of her armour. “Yeah. I’d been sticking with blue and gold for a while now.” Blaze replied, “Figured I should switch it up a little.”

“It suits you.” Crow smiled. “Thanks.” Blaze grinned, a small blush appearing on her face, as the two leaned against the table with a sigh. “I suppose this is it.” Crow said with a sense of finality, “Time to say goodbye to the Reef. To the only home I've ever known.”

“Yeah…” Blaze sighed, “It’s weird. It’s been three months, but it feels like only a few days ago we met on the moon. Now it’s over.” The two stood in comfortable silence for a moment before Blaze spoke up again, “So what are you going to do now?”

“I’ve given it some thought.” Crow replied, “Osiris actually came by earlier and we talked for a while about my plans for the future. I told him I'd considered exploring somewhere remote, like Venus, but he suggested a different course."

“What’s that?”

Crow held his head up high, “I’m coming to the Tower.”

Blaze’s eyes widened as she stood up straight, “F-for real?”

Crow nodded with a smile, “People may judge the man I was, but I refuse to cower in the shadow of his legacy. I'm a Guardian. I need to act like one. I also talked to Rae about it. She suggested joining a Fireteam and…I’ve decided to join Paralight.”

Blaze’s eyes lit up at this before lunging at Crow, wrapping her arms around him as she let out a squeal of delight. Crow stumbled back a bit before steadying himself, letting out a chuckle as he returned the hug. “That’s great! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

“I know I won’t. I’m still a bit anxious about showing my face in the Tower, but I think I’ll be okay with you and the others.” Crow cupped Blaze’s cheek and gave her a brief kiss before touching his forehead to hers, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Crow.”

 The two pulled away upon hearing footsteps approach the workshop. A moment later, Rae and Adam entered wearing new armour of their own. Rae had cut her hair, so it looked similar to her Kinderguardian hairstyle. She now wore pink, purple and blue robes with the Stasis symbol on the skirt and metal, layered shoulder pads. She also wore a black and white bond that had a spade projection. Adam wore armour that was several shades of white and blue with a white furry collar. “Looks like you’re not the only one with a new look.” Crow noted as the two Guardians entered. “Yeah.” Rae laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, “I figured since I’m the Stasis Vanguard now, I should look like it.”

Crow turned to Adam, “And you?”

“Everyone was getting new looks, and I didn’t want to feel left out.” Adam shrugged. “Suuuure. It TOTALLY isn’t to impress a certain Awoken in the Dreaming City or anything.” Blaze chuckled. “Hardy har.” Adam rolled his eyes. Rae laughed at the two’s banter before turning to Crow, “So, you ready to go?”

“Almost. Osiris wanted to meet me before I arrive.” Crow replied, “Said he had something to give me.”

Rae nodded in understanding, “We’ll meet you in the Tower courtyard then. See you starside, Guardian.”

“See you starside.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you think Osiris wanted to give Crow?”

Rae stood in the courtyard with her Fireteam and the rest of the Vanguard. “If I had to make a guess…” Ikora gave a small smirk, “A lengthy lecture on the importance of being a Guardian.”

“That tracks!” Rae giggled. “Ikora had to get it from somewhere!” Cayde added, earning a laugh from Blaze. Ikora glared at Cayde and Blaze, who ducked behind Adam for protection from any potential incoming nova bombs.

“Oh helvete nej! I am not being your meat shield!” Adam walked away from the cowering Hunters.

“H-hey! What happened to Titans protecting others?” Cayde stammered.

“Not from angry Ikoras! I doubt even Shaxx would stand in the way of Ikora when she’s angry.”

“VERY TRUE!!” Shaxx yelled from the other side of the courtyard.

As the group continued their banter, Blaze noticed a figure emerge from the hangar entrance walking towards them. There was Crow, now wearing a short black and white cloak with a white crow displayed on it. Under it, his usual black scale-like armour was now white along with matching boots and now wore grey trousers. “How do I look?” Crow asked as he approached Blaze. “Like a true Hunter.” She smiled. Zavala stepped forward, “Welcome to the Tower, Guardian.”

“Thank you. I won’t let you down.” Crow nodded.

“Well before we do anything…” Cayde began, a serious tone to his voice, “There’s one important thing we need to do.”

“True, true.” Blaze agreed. “W-what? What’s wrong?” Crow asked, glancing between the two Hunters with concern.

“…INITIATION!!!” Cayde and Blaze yelled in unison as they both grabbed the arms of a very confused Crow and began leading him towards Tower’s Spicy Ramen. “We better go make sure they don’t cause trouble.” Rae chuckled. “I feel like that’s always a given when it comes to those two.” Ikora replied as she began walking back to her post.

 The rest of the evening was spent at Spicy Ramen, celebrating Crow joining the ranks of the Guardians. Crow still thought the noodles looked like worms but eventually gave in after some peer pressure from Blaze and Cayde and ended up enjoying it. They shared stories of their own embarrassing Kinderguardian moments, from Cayde falling off a cliff moments after his first revival to Paralight getting caught in a Benny Hills-style case with two minotaurs and a flock of harpies on Venus after running out of ammo while their Ghosts continued their scan. They also told stories of their greatest victories such as Adam’s infamous swordfight with Crota after Rae and Blaze were downed. Blaze and Crow joined in by telling them about how they both fended off Savathûn’s forces while trying to restore Hawkmoon. Slowly, Crow felt the anxiety of arriving at the Tower wash away. He knew there would still be Guardians who would hate him for his past self’s mistakes, despite what the Vanguard would say to them. He knew of the possible dangers awaiting him with the Darkness looming throughout the system. He knew of the certain chaos running with this trio of misfits would bring. But right now, he didn’t care. In that moment, he was surrounded by friends – his friends – laughing and sharing stories together. They knew of what his old self did, he could see it in their eyes, yet they still accepted him for who he was now. He knew who he was. And he knew who he would always be.

A Hunter.

A Guardian.

 Crow.

 End of Season of the Hunt.

[ikemenayakashi]

I'll find you - Chapter 1

Pair: Asta x Yuno, don't like, don't read.

Manga spoilers! Don't read if you don't know Yuno's past and if you don't want spoilers (if you don't care of spoilers, I feel you and you are welcome to read)

‘Do you have any idea of what I had to do?’

‘You probably had to help someone doing the chores’

‘Oh right! I promised TVWOSTEC CYAT to help with them instead of TVWL. Thanks! Love you’

Yuno smiled while starring at the tiny hearts his mate added at the end of the message. He gave up years ago on telling him that writing names was worthless, since they were transformed into random letter by magic. Yuno didn't understand why magic would let him talk, well write would be a better word, with his soulmate with no problem, but wouldn't let them write things that would have actually helped them find each other. They could only tell the other vague information, Yuno knew his soulmate was a blonde man with green eyes. But that was a description of more or less a quarter of the whole Spade Kingdom.

Always hoping he wasn't in another kingdom, finding him would have been even more difficult then.

He just... wanted to meet him.

He wanted to hear his voice, to touch him and teach him to write in a calligraphy that didn't give Yuno a headache. He loved him, of course, they "knew" each other since they were born, but it took Yuno quite a while to be able to read what his soulmate was writing.

 

He remember the first time they could communicate. It was after a dinner with the nobles of the kingdom to celebrate some victory in a fight. Yuno was tired of them so he told his parents he was that he would have retired into his chambers to read a book.

He read for a while until he was interrupted by a warm feeling on his left arm, he was now used to understand that the itchy and warm feeling was caused by his soulmate trying to write to him. He threw the book away and went to search for a feather and some ink, in the past few years he studied what his soulmate was writing, to reach the conclusion that it wasn't some arcane language but just a terrible handwriting. He couldn't understand what the other person wrote for a lot of time because he was used to the elegant writing style of the nobles and the books of their library. Added to that, there was also the fact that his soulmate didn't write much.

His mother told him that, considering both of the information, his soulmate was probably not a noble, and in that case Yuno should have waited for the other person to write.

“Not all people can have whatever they want like us, Yuno. Some people have to take care of the few things they have. Writing is not something all people have the luxury to learn, so most people buy ink only to reach their soulmate when they grow up and when they have a job to be able to both buy the ink and pay someone to write for them. I am sure your soulmate is doing whatever is in their power to reach you. Wait for them to write something first, so you won't cause them troubles, ok?” his mother's words stopped him from writing to his soulmate for the past months. But now that they finally wrote to him again, he wouldn't lose this change.

Yuno looked at the messy handwriting trying to understand what it said before the ink disappeared.

‘Will... I get... magic?’

His hand trembled a little after reading that.

Were they ok? Why were they worrying about their magic? Did they get in trouble? Did he have to go and help them? His little face was now showing a worried expression but now he didn't have time to overthink it.

‘You will’

He wrote it fast.

He didn't want them to think he was ignoring them.

More worries crossed the young child's mind. Those were the first words he wrote to his soulmate. Were they ok? He tried to write in a simple style, to make it easier to read, but did it worked? Was it still too hard to read? Would the other person answer? He didn't answered for a year, maybe now they were angry at him? What if they didn't want to talk to them now?

‘WAIT YOU REALLY EXISTS?’

A part of Yuno wanted to scream. They didn't seem angry but damn, their writing was even worst now.

‘Yes, I do exist. I apologize for not writing before’

‘It's ok! I thought you just weren't born yet! Where are you? When can we meet?’

Well, they were surely energetic.

‘I am prince Yuno. Tell me where are you and we can meet even tomorrow. ’

Yuno realized it looked like an order right after writing it, so he quickly added

‘If you can and if you want, of course’

He didn't get an answer for a while. The ink disappeared and Yuno wondered what did he do wrong. Maybe they hated the royal family?

‘PBEDV7N VWUH says that names aren't shown correctly because it's really late and we should sleep right now! Maybe if we talk during the day we can see them! Good night! ’

Yuno replied with the same words, while starring at the random letters he supposed were the name of someone.

He never heard of a condition like that. His parents found each other when they were still children too. His mother wrote her first message when she was six and his father answered immediately. Yuno's father was a noble and the meeting with the royal family was arranged in some days, with the result of his father being accepted into the royal family without any issues. Neither of them ever mentioned problem of any kind, like not being able to read what the other was saying. They were lucky enough to grow up together and Yuno always hoped he could have the same luck as them.

It seemed it wouldn't have been that easy for him.

 

Since that day they wrote to each other every time the other boy could. Sometimes Yuno wrote random information of what he was doing, his wishes or anything that crossed his mind. He wanted to let the other know he remembered him and that he wanted to find him as soon as possible. The other guy tried to do the same as often as he could, but Yuno had guessed that his mother was right and his soulmate didn't have much money to spare. Yuno tried to convince him that he was fine even if they couldn't talk much, but the other tried his best to write to him everything major that happened to him, often followed by cute tiny hearts, and that alone warmed Yuno's heart, making him giggle with a sweet smile.

 

×

 

Yuno was sitting at the table having lunch with his parent, when he felt his left arm cold. He stopped eating and run to find ink, feeling his muscles tensing every seconds that passed.

He wasn't supposed to feel cold.

When your soulmate wrote to you, you are only supposed to feel warm. Like when it was snowing and you come back home with the fire there to make you forget the chills. Like the sun that touched your skin after winter, announcing the beginning of spring.

Cold was just... wrong.

Yuno soon reached his room, still feeling like there was  ice all over his arm.

‘what's wrong’

He was sure his handwriting wasn't this worst even when he was learning how to write. He was holding his left arm, strong enough to be painful, but at that moment he couldn't feel the pain. He was probably going to break his own arm, when his mother's gentle touch made him lose the grip. He didn't notice her coming after him, but he was glad she did.

She looked at him with the same gold eyes, holding him gently into her arms. She didn't speak and Yuno was thankful for it. He didn't want to talk about it, everything that crossed his mind was too scary to say it loud.

Did it get cold because his soulmate was injured? Was he in danger? And if that were the case, how was he supposed to find him? He didn't know anything about where he lived. Yuno clung to his mother, with tears falling down without his control, hoping that was all a nightmare and that he would have soon wake up from it.

 

The cold didn't disappear for several minutes, with the growing of Yuno's worry. And then, as suddenly as it came, it disappeared.

Yuno couldn't take a breath of relief, because the cold was replaced by hot. Too hot. Yuno felt like his arm was burning from inside and fell on the floor in pain holding his arm, deaf to his mother's words of worry.

Unlike the cold feeling, this one didn't last more than mere seconds, but it was ten times stronger.

Only after he calmed himself with some deep breaths, he dared to look at the origin of the pain.

Yuno observed the ink while it slowly created not words, but what he guessed was a picture. His eyes never leaving the figure the soulmate magic was making over his arm. The first thing he saw was a building. Next appeared the surroundings of it, with trees and some little figures. Then an enormous thing was drawn right next to it.

‘A skeleton?’ he heard his mother whisper.

Yuno didn't answer, too busy looking at the drawing that was now getting the stunning colours of sunset.

When the drawing finished Yuno was speechless. He never saw something like that and he couldn't help think it was beautiful. He slowly passed his fingers over the paint, amazed by the art it was in front of him.

Then, right under the drawing that covered half of his arm, Yuno felt warm and then he saw the messy handwriting he was hoping for.

‘I dunno if this worked, but if it did, well, I am here... ’

-------

So, erm, well, hi. I wrote again lol. I actually posted this on Ao3 too because I really love that site too for fanfic (and there are some yunoasu fics if you want to check it👀)

[inkribbon796]

The Deal Ch. 3

Chapter 3: A Spade’s a Spade

Summary: Nate and some of the Light Sides go to retrieve Logan’s camera.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Nate and Logan made up the lion’s share of the conversation as they took Logan’s car. He did his best to answer the logical Side’s questions. Roman and Patton occasionally chimed in with questions of their own.

“It’s a soul splitter but it doesn’t work,” Nate had initially explained. “Probably because it’s Wil’s. I’ve never heard of a soul splitter not making demons but apparently, with Wil’s magic, bullshit is always possible.”

“None of us are demons,” Roman reminded. “If I was a demon, I would know.”

“Exactly, you would know,” Nate agreed. “Or you’d at least pass the aura test and Marvin conducted one on Virgil months ago. Either you’re all the weirdest demons I’ve ever seen, or you’re just perfectly weird humans.”

“We’re obviously humans,” Logan summarized. He was driving, so he had to keep his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, so as long as we keep it away from the other demons in the city, that apparently don’t live in the base already — I can’t believe King had a kid — it should be more than alright to keep it in the base.”

“Lunky’s so adorable,” Patton smiled.

“They eat glass,” Logan reminded.

“Least I know why Mare didn’t want to get near the base, that kid eats demon aura, they freak Mare out,” Nate commented.

“Really, that’s fascinating,” Logan commented. “Is it an issue of territory?”

“No, Lunky is to Mare, what Bim is to us,” Nate answered. “Spawnlings eat their weight in aura. Mare will probably be leery of being alone with Lunky for another two months.”

Silence crashed down in the car.

Logan didn’t quiet have the words to voice his thoughts. When he did he said, “That . . . is that what he’s doing?”

“Bim?” Nate asked. “Yeah, different demons collect aura differently. Bim just decided his way of collecting aura was by physically eating it.”

Then they reached Nathan’s neighborhood and even before Logan pulled off to a stop, they knew something was wrong.

The door was wide open.

“Shit!” Nate jumped out of the car the instant he could. “My dog.”

Logan was slower to respond and Roman pulled out his sword.

The heroes carefully stepped into the house. Nate was relieved to find his dog in his kennel.

“Did anyone hurt you?” Nate asked as he looked the dog over.

“Was it the hunters?” Patton asked.

“Probably,” Nate said and looked in a drawer to find a stack of magic books. “Maybe?”

Then he went to a separate drawer and found all of his supplies still there, “No. They haven’t been here yet.”

Logan looked around and saw all of Nate’s musical equipment and game consoles still in the house and unmoved. “Who breaks in and takes nothing of value?”

Nate thought for a second and went up to his office to find that something had been taken. On a small table was a broken protection circle. He called back down the stairs, “The camera’s gone!”

“What?” Logan demanded.

Nate checked through the top floor again, “It’s the only thing taken.”

“You were targeted,” Logan realized. “My outburst outside the bar may have contributed to that.”

“The Host must have known,” Nate guessed. “I wouldn’t have come back home for another couple hours if he hadn’t said something.”

“Is there any way to track it?” Logan asked.

“I need time to get enough residual energy to pick up a trail, hopefully there’s enough of that left,” Nate said.

“Maybe that snake took it,” Roman suggested.

“Now kiddo, we shouldn’t just go around accusing people,” Patton replied.

“But we should rule him out,” Logan realized, recalling that Janus had threatened to steal and destroy it several times.

Patton sighed in disappointment, and they finished locking up and Nate fed his dog before they left. Nate gathered the materials to perform the spell as they drove over to the Sides’ home and Logan rushed into the house. He found Janus and Remus packing up their stuff into boxes.

“Ahhh, Logan,” Janus greeted. “Just in time for the good news. We found a nice place out on the outskirts of town. Tell Virgil I am taking my Chicago record player back. No, he can not debate me on this.”

Remus poked his head out from a large box with a smile on his face, “I’m going to get to go skinny dipping with the gators.”

Janus rolled his eyes, packing up the box with Remus inside of it, but not taping it shut. “Yes, yes, just make sure you do it at night.”

“That is amazing and we advocate you finding your own place,” Logan started. “But have you seen the camera?”

“Which camera?” Janus asked, his tone guarded.

“Thomas’s,” Logan qualified.

There was a disgusted groan that came from Janus, he already turned away to start packing something else, “Logan, I have not seen that wretched thing since you brought it to your base. And if I ever see it again, it will be too soon.”

“Swear to me that you have not seen it,” Logan demanded quietly.

Janus made a scoff but when he saw Logan’s face he paused and put down what he was working on to take off his right glove off of his more human hand and raise it up, looking Logan dead in the eye, “Logan, I swear on Thomas’s good name that I have not seen it. I did not take it.”

“Alright,” Logan nodded.

“Alright!” Remus burst out of the box, extending out his arms.

“If I help you find the blasted thing will you let the matter rest?” Janus offered.

“I was not expecting your assistance but that would be appreciated,” Logan said.

“Good, now let me finish up here and make sure Remus doesn’t eat any packing peanuts and I’ll help you look.” Janus dismissed.

“Too late, snack mamba,” Remus winked and immediately coughed up a packing peanut.

Janus rolled his eyes, “Go, I’ll be along shortly.”

Logan thanked him again and left with his group to start the search, on the lookout for any hunters.

By the time Janus got out of the house, he almost debated not going to even look for it. Hoping that Logan had already found it.

He was poking around and asking some of his contacts, using the cover that Remus wanted a new rare trinket to destroy. So far he wasn’t having any luck.

Then he got a text from Logan: “Meet me by Helyx Bridge. Urgent.”

Janus quickly left the dive bar and headed for the location. Thankfully it wasn’t that far away.

Close to the bridge was Logan, facing off against a couple hunters. One of them was already knocked out while two of them were encroaching on the logical Side.

“Logic!” Janus called out, running over to him, when he was close enough he whipped out his shepherd’s staff and struck one of the hunters in the head. The hunter dropped to the ground and Logan dispatched the third.

“How fortuitous,” Logan commented, taking a second or two to catch his breath. “Were you following me?”

“No, I was merely in the area,” Janus confessed, watching Logan turn around and pick something up.

It was the camera.

“You found it,” Janus studied the camera for a bit. It seemed to be in the same condition as the last time Janus saw it.

“Yes, you must have come to a deal with Dark because he simply gave it to me,” Logan told him.

“Oh?” Janus managed. Something about that statement seemed off, he didn’t know what it was, but there was something . . . false about that statement.

“Yes,” Logan started walking towards the hero’s base and Janus followed him. “We can finally be done with this mess. This never should have been left at the base but if we must keep it there at least it will be safe with the Host.”

The two decided to leave before more hunters showed up

Janus kept Logan talking, being put more at ease the longer he did so. This was Logan, so what if he wasn’t completely truthful with the manner he procured the camera? That was none of Janus’ business.

They stopped right outside the Sides’ home. Janus happy to be leaving the place if Logan was bringing the camera back in.

Logan reached into his pocket, and Janus noticed the new wrist communicator on the logical Side’s wrist. The screen was thin and in the shape of a black spade symbol.

“New tech?” Janus could help but ask.

“Oh yes,” Logan answered, a slight smile on his face.

. . . Lies . . .

“I see,” Janus could help but respond, “your design?”

“No, Bing’s,” Logan’s smile widened as he started to draw on the camera.

Lies.

“My old suit was having some problems so I decided to try something else,” Logan continued to explain.

L I E S

With that lie, Janus finally saw little holes in what he was fairly certain was in illusion. Or at least the illusion was dangerously strong or aided by something else because Janus couldn’t see through it.

Then Janus actually saw what Logan was doing with the camera, what he was drawing on it, and it was the final nail in the coffin.

Those were magical spells, he was laying a spell on that camera. Right where Janus could plainly see and with no attempt to keep him from seeing it.

Even if Logan knew what sigils to place and how to use them, they wouldn’t do anything without magic.

This wasn’t Logan! It wasn’t him! Logan couldn’t do magic, he was the only Side who couldn’t.

“Why don’t you let me hold it,” Janus offered, trying to sound as calm as possible. “We can head back to the others together.”

The imposter let out Logan’s throaty chuckle as he calmly capped the pen and looked at the deceitful Side. “You know Janus, everytime I leave you be, you never cease to amaze me. So, here’s how this is going to go—”

Logan was frustrated as they kept walking around. He was flanked on either side by Nate and Patton. Roman at the rear of the group to keep an eye out for hunters.

“We’ll find it,” Patton tried to offer confidently.

“It has been three hours,” Logan reminded morosely.

“I’ll have Mare keep an ear to the ground if someone tries to pawn it off,” Nate decided.

“That’s not the part that worries me,” Logan grumbled. “Nothing else was taken, whoever stole it wanted that camera for what it was, not what it was worth.”

Then Logan’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see it was a message from Janus: “I found the camera. Meet me outside of your base.”

“It’s Deceit, he found it,” Logan announced.

“Really?” Patton let out a sigh of relief. “That’s so good.”

“Let’s get to the base before he breaks it,” Logan insisted, taking off in a sprint. “If he hasn’t already.”

When they got to the base, Janus was leaning against the closest street lamp to the base. In his hands was the camera. He spared them a quick glance. “I don’t know what’s worse: the sheer incompetence of how this thing disappeared or you leaving it in the storage room to begin with.”

Then he held it out and Logan accepted it quietly. He, mostly by luck rather than fate, noticed that the Side was wearing a wrist-communicator with a large blade spade-shaped screen.

“Now if my good deed for the day is done, I’ll be off,” Janus walked away, heading down the street and eventually turning out of view.

Logan waited an extra second, before holding it out to Nate, “Is this the same camera?”

Nate took it for a couple seconds, before passing it back, “Feels like it. I didn’t draw these symbols though.”

“What do they do?” Logan studied them.

“It’s a really high level containment spell, if anything was awake in there, it’s asleep now. The only thing that could probably wake it up is if we cracked the camera open.”

“I don’t understand,” Patton interjected. “Is there something wrong?”

“Something’s always wrong with him,” Roman added.

“I didn’t tell Deceit how exactly I had lost the camera. Only that it was taken by Nate in the base. Did you, Ro, or Virge tell him?”

“No,” Patton frowned. “At least, I didn’t.”

“I would never tell that jerk anything,” Roman defended. “And Virgil would never.”

“We should get this inside,” Nate interrupted.

Logan stopped, taking a deep calming breath, “You’re right, let’s go.”

The heroes rushed into the base to place the camera in lock up. Nate had one key, and Logan had the other so they could both access the camera anytime they needed or wanted to. Then the Light Sides, Virgil tagging along this time, rushed back to their home.

Only to find Janus, Remus, and all of the two Sides’ things gone from the apartment. Only a little bit of a mess, a couple flat boxes, and spare packing peanuts left in their wake.

And Logan failed to locate them for the rest of the day afterwards, realizing too late they didn’t even have the Dark Sides’ new address to track them down.

On the swampy outskirts of Gainesville stood a run down house that had been almost completely abandoned because it was said to be haunted.

Which was exactly why Deceit and the Duke had managed buy the property in the first place.

Deceit, or at least someone that looked like him, walked down the overgrown driveway with Janus’s shepherd’s crook in one hand and Remus’s octopus belt buckle in the other. He was humming a tune to himself. The instant he was through the front door and closed it, his wrist watch vibrated and instantly Deceit’s image blinked out of existence and there stood a figure in a full black suit, covered head to toe. A silvery-brass emblem of a spade on his chest.

The Spade walked past all the boxes of Janus and Remus’s belongings before he headed to a closet that led to a small elevator and took it down to a room a floor down. A workshop had been hastily assembled in the space and Spade placed the staff and the buckle in a magically warded case. The instant the case door was closed a force banged on the glass, as if trying to get out.

“Don’t worry, Janus, I won’t leave you in there forever, after all,” Spade smiled, his voice heavily distorted by a voice box, “we have work to do.”

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Italy brings the rock’n’roll youth of tomorrow to Rotterdam 2021

It’s the final day of doing my yet again botched attempt at a review series and I’ve been dying to post my gigantic write-up for my newly beloved Italy, at the top of the bookies, darling of all hearts, ready to rock Eurovision, and even more! Vai vai~

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Representing them this year is Måneskin, a band made up of four - singer and possibly the hottest motherfucker to grace the planet Earth Damiano, guitarist Thomas, drummer Ethan, and the cherry on top - bassist Victoria, whose half-Danish heritage is the reason Måneskin is called Måneskin (= Moonshine). They thought of this name at a “battle of the bands” that they won, thinking they might as well change it to something different, but in the end... say it with me now

They have known each other since highschool, made a band in 2016, won the “battle of the bands”, started out making a living as buskers in the streets of Rome, from which they gradually grew through playing small gigs, and later tried out for X Factor Italia season 11, on which they came 2nd.

They went on to release an EP titled after their debut single of the name of the song above, including some of their X Factor covers, and later on got to get big through releasing an album, getting it certified all kinds of goodnesses, having singles from that album be popular, even releasing a documentary of themselves... they’ve done so much in life and they’re only 20-22 years old... aw man, the life is just ahead of them, for them to be so young and win Sanremo on their first try. (And I’ve always wanted them for Eurovision ever since I was aware of their existence, because their music is very nice, and they just feel like charming human beings. So imagine my joy seeing them announced for Sanremo 2021? And them WINNING months later??? man what kind of luck do I have even if just for a year lmao <333)

“Zitti e buoni”, the last song title alphabetically this year, is purely of the band’s making, and the lyrics are talking about not abiding the rules in general, how they’re out of their minds but they’re not like “them”, and how people talk but don’t know what they’re talking at all.

REVIEW

IT’S A PRETTY CRAZY GOOD ROCK SONG AMEN HALLELUJAH OPRAH WOOOOOOO

wbk I love it. Yeah sure it might be composited of something that sounds like standard rock riffs and what not, but it’s the ENERGY that goes into it that gets me more excited for this than for Finland, a fellow rock song of this year’s final.

Damiano’s vocals have the specific kind of rockstar tinge to them, and they’re very complimenting to the song. The way he says everything is beautiful, the “e buonasera signore e signori” line in particular is just a moment that shows the beginning of power somehow, I don’t know. The chorus is great, eventhough it’s just one line repeated but it changes the pronoun each time (going from “I’m out of my mind” to “you’re out of your mind” to “we’re out of my mind”) - MAGICAL.

And the bridge. YES, the bridge. Along with the outro it’s the best part of the song. The chord progression. The lines repeated on that bridge. The emotions going on. The delivery of the lines of the emotion. It’s a convincing little bridge, to the point that it sounds just as great with violins! Wish they brought one, because according to Love Love Peace Peace, nothing screams winner quite like a violin.

God damn to the Måneskinsters pump this song up to the maximum. It was originally a ballad song, and I think that’s for the better for them to present it as a rock song, because a Sanremo ballad in a pool of Sanremo ballads... unless it stands out according to demoscopic & press juries, and there seems to be a no better option at hand that could make them stand out other than just sending a classy ballad, it just fizzles out in a spectacularly lame fashion. Måneskin’s one real shot through was with a song that would make them stand out, and they did it, and they’re here.

Everyone has put in their work, their passion, their skills into this, and it shows off in spades. Måneskin themselves are fantastic and chill human beings, who too, just like Flo Rida, get to enjoy how crazy amazing Eurovision experience is. And for that I salute them with my whole heart. Whatever they do tonight on Eurovision, they’ll leave a lasting mark in it. And for a good reason.

Also an Italian Eurovision edit that doesn’t suck, once again, yay! (In their defense, they didn’t have a whole lot to work with, so they released theirs early - just a few trimmings here and there, and a lyric change so that they skate by EBU easier with their anti-swearing policies. Gahddamn swearing~)

Approval factor: FUCK YES Follow-up factor: The funny thing about this is that last year their entry is about making noise but the song was a love ballad, this year it’s a song titled “shut up and behave” while dressed in a loudest motherfucking musical setting lol. Fuck the rules! It was solely on the Sanremo’s last year’s winner Diodato not to send an entry he thought that would fit for Sanremo, and that’s good on him - he can return next year replenished as all hell, and maybe aim for the trophy again? wishful thinking? aaaa. Anyway on a personal scale “Zitti e buoni” is a marvelous follow-up from “Fai rumore”, even if skipping 2020 entirely, especially after “Soldi”, which was already a fab follow-up after “Non mi avete fatto niente”, and even from “Occidentali’s Karma” on. And so it is subjectively a good follow-up. Italy SLAYS. AQ factor: As I write this, the odds are very much in their favour, if not a little bit too persuaded over the fact that Måneskin gave a good rock performance and knew what they would be doing, or it’s just that the Italians like overbetting for their acts way too damn much. But nevertheless, I just wanna hope for them to break the expectations people set on rock songs in Eurovision and SMASH themselves a victory. Or a top 2. Or a top 5-10. Anything will do, goddamn.

NF CORNER

Well, I promised that I will talk about Sanremo in a NF corner, because this is the first year I actually cared to watch it myself, unlike when I would’ve sided with someone whose reviewing style I love in not caring to watch it, and usually just check all the songs on the last day lol.

One thing about Sanremo that I sorely underestimate is that a handful of artists on there can come across as very versatile, and the one song you loved of one genre they presented several years ago, can be completely different and leave you baffled for days if you’re not very familiarized with their discography and the Italian music scene in general. Which now I’m going to pay an extreme amount of attention towards following Sanremo 2022 on out because hot damn did I never see gems like Willie Peyote coming!

Did I call him a gem over his entry? Yes, somehow. Am I even sure if I’m being serious?

I think I can somewhat agree when I say that for the international fam watching Sanremo at least, “Mai dire mai (La locura)” was a major expectation destroyer, at least for the crowd whose main lookouts in a lineup like this years were Ermal Meta, Annalisa, Arisa, etc. You know they’re gonna bring a ballad, and their ballads are usually decent, but what about the unexpected? That’s where a handful of acts, including Willie, comes in for me. The bass hooks in the second the song starts. The beat is minimalistic but strong enough to slap. The steady rap flow is mesmerizing, paired with that somewhat specifically Italian(?) vocal timbre. The chorus is greatly catchy, and it is a sung chorus, with this song still being largely a rap song. The electric-esque guitar soundwaves interspersed throughout the song are magnificent and magical, and on the chorus they even make a constant melody riff that repeats and may get annoying on multiple listens, but I still adore them. I really love the bridge as well and all that goes into it. A fantastic surprise of the season for me personally.

Now I figure that the lyrics may hinder the enjoyment for some, especially the points raised in some lines that may seem questionable and shady (if this went to Eurovision and got a “twerking” comment on Youtube, I will not be surprised if the description of choice is “patriarchic twerking”), but am I supposed to be fully offended at some points of it if I’m not its target audience, although I see some of what I do nowadays in those lines? “Mai dire mai” is probably dedicated to the Italian media and the Italian trends and what not. I’m not even disappointed it didn’t win, because if it went to Eurovision, it would’ve likely been met like a lesser “Occidentali’s Karma” - catchy song with lyrics that fly over listener’s heads which might as well be very accidentally mocking how we live our lives.

“Mai dire mai” has just less of a memorability-in-history value and no memorable gimmicks (Francesco had a gorilla, what is it visually going for on Willie’s performance?), besides, it would’ve suffered even WORSE post-Eurovision-edit than OK has - a lot of the bits and bobs that pass me by but when I notice them they make a really great entry, but other than the (presumably copyrighted) removal of a sample from a TV series (spoken by a fish character, nonetheless), what else is there to remove???? With Eurovision’s rules specifying that brands (Spotify, TikTok) and swearwords (lots of the good old Italian ones that Italian radios would digitally scratch out to emphasize that there were a LOT in the second verse) can’t be sung live, the song loses some of its lyrical charm. And you can’t just go around the song like Francesco Gabbani chopping off entire verses full of content full of witty lyrics and a reference to Chanel in order to present the more lyrically singable-along-to lines and not let go of the long chorus to whom his gorilla can dance to. “Mai dire mai” is RIFE with lyrics, that’s what a rap song is. It would have absolutely fallen apart.

Also no one paged it as a potential Eurovision winner during Sanremo, at least seriously, and it doesn’t have much that would have clicked with the future Eurovision generation and contestants when they would be asked to name their favourite Eurovision song of all times. In a world where from Italy they really like “Grande amore” and “Soldi” and even sometimes could name “Occidentali’s Karma”, is there really a place for “Mai dire mai (La locura)” over “Zitti e buoni”? Who would be naming that song as their favourite of all time? If you raised a hand, you lie to yourself, because that would’ve been me.

Now I don’t know how many of the Tumblr fam would draw ire at me putting out paragraphs worth of me being ultra positive towards this song, because as I’ve learned, there’s an ironic and unironic audience for Mr. Peyote on Tumblr especially, but for me I guess it was pretty worthy, also a thing I was finally able to yell off my chest since, and now I finally said it, I will continue streaming “Mai dire mai (La locura)” in peace.

He might’ve not won Sanremo, but his song won the equally important Mia Martini Critics Award, and also, my heart. Rest in broken shards of the Boris aquarium, my sweet cynical prince~

Måneskin were my 2nd after him so I’m equally happy they won. But what about my other favourites?

• Extraliscio ft. Davide Toffolo - Bianca luce nera A diluted version of the liscio genre, still makes for a very fascinatingly catchy and swaying song with lots of great instruments that are violins and a clarinet. What I figure is kinda a love song. Their performances were also great, with lots of dancers on stage and a genuinely great fun to be had, and you may remember them more after their performance in cover night, which was titled “Rosamunda”. They were the ones with their main singer’s guitar spinning for whatever reason that was there to make their song catchy, I guess.

• Lo Stato Sociale - Combat Pop A little bit of a far cry from their glory heydays with 2nd place in Sanremo 2018, but they returned with an equally banging song and an amazing set of performance chaos they brought in each and every time - dedicating their first night’s one to making a performance to not forget (and being the ones of two to reference the great Bugo&Morgan incident from last year, the other being Willie Peyote), the second competitive one was for referencing politics, and so on.

• Colapesce & Dimartino - Musica leggerissima Sweet melancholic song with the shades of Sebastien Tellier kinda sound, this song may seem jolly at first, but the especially melancholic undertones denote that there’s something else going on. It’s actually about depression, as that’s what the term “musica leggerissima” (very light music) means. But it still found a heart in Italian listeners and the Italian world finally woke up to how great Antonio Di Martino and Lorenzo “Colapesce” Urciullo are, and a handful of viewers were slightly heartbroken to see it not place in the superfinal top 3. Who knows if they would’ve actually won over Måneskin. I just know that their rollerskater girlie is so damn fine~

Bugo has also returned but I think his redemption arc started off the wrong foot, as his return entry, “E invece si”, was a bloated showtune ballad and got obnoxious to listen to at part. I declared to myself that night when I first heard the new entry that regarding on what made “Sincero” great, I side with Morgan.

And a special shout out to Ghemon, whose 2019 song was more than just a “purple rose” unlike I noted on a last proper Italian entry review. I don’t know what expectations I had for him, but I certainly wanted to love “Momento perfetto” more at the first listen, which was also somewhat of a show-tuney piece, but with a bit more funk and pizzazz, also Ghemon was VERY much vibing with his song, and that made me feel great for the few other performances of it that I saw the following days. It’s definitely a grower song, and around 2 months after Sanremo I fell into a bit of a rabbit-hole of his earlier music discovering, and I may be a bit exaggerating but, give Ghemon a bit more of acknowledgement and a stellar enough song, and with a little bit of magic touch, I can maybe see him lifting the Golden Lion trophy one day. Don’t ask why. (also lovely music video for his 2021 entry, which replaces continuous spinning in an aesthetic area to everybody moving their body in a diner (hopefully with everyone in the MV tested and been negative for long enough for the MV to actually happen).)

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

There’s so much needed to be discussed about there. So I’ll restrict myself to the moments that I remember and cherish:

• Rosario Fiorello. Just. Him.

• And the gentleman next to him, Achille Lauro.

tw // body piercing

Belarus 2018 could never

Fiorello and Lauro are perfect matches to each other’s worlds of imagination, and I was more than ever glad to see so much creativity coming from each one of them, a host and a nightly interval act respectively.

• Once again, “Rosamunda Medley” by Extraliscio, I didn’t watch the cover night in its entirety but I think it’s good enough of a medley if it got a 3rd place from the cover night from the orchestra!

• Sanremo Newcomers section of this year. I liked or vibed to almost every song out of the 8, and I’m decently happy with the winner, but if there’s one big shoutout I really want to make, is to “Regina” by Davide Shorty, for it’s such a cozy funky little love song that always makes me happy when I hear it. My personal winner preference, but I don’t mind Davide getting 2nd! For as long as he gets to place 1st in a future main Sanremo event hihihihihi

• Diodato proving himself to be a dance king at the beginning of his “Che vita meravigliosa” performance, my good Twitter friend made a bunch of videos where he dances to a lot of songs, as per request, check them out and you won’t forget it.

• Since Sanremo 2021 got rid of the audience as per COVID regulations and much to Amadeus’s dread, there ended up quite a handful of audience related memes. Such as the penis balloon et al.

• Remember when Sanremo 2021 audience was supposed to be whisked away in a cruise ship for safety measures? Pepperidge Farm remembers

• SESSO IBUPROFENEEEEEEEE

The guy that sang this song actually has the same birthday as me, so in my eyes, I feel like he has some charm to it. I’m biased lol sorry

There’s way too many more but I am afraid of flooding my post beyond your readability interest. Let’s hope that, in an event of Italy’s victory or non, we’ll get to see an even more iconic event of Sanremo emerge come the future. <3

ANY LAST WORDS?

Måneskin’s big goal was to rock Eurovision, and I think they’ve greatly accomplished that by just... doing what they do best, and that is, rocking. They leave energy lasting for days.

In bocca al lupo, fam. You’ll nail it, and even if you don’t win, Italy shouldn’t not hail you as national heroes after it’s all over.

[tokutenshi]

Well whooooops, my dumb self couldn’t keep track of the days.

Though the Darkness Comes Upon Me part 1 “I Shall Embrace the Light”, chapter 16: “Blame”

If the past year had taught Cullen anything, it was that he was a terrible judge of character. His original irritation at not pursuing the claims against Ser Varnell further escalated to near self-loathing since reading that damn report. Mother Petrice had played a much larger part in the plot against the Qunari than he'd realized and carried on with it – albeit less brazenly – after Varnell's death. Until last night.

Cullen had failed to see her corruption, had trusted her simply because she was a mother of the Chantry, and now another mob of misguided zealots were dead. Petrice was dead. The Viscount's son, Saemus, was dead. The Chantry was stained with their blood because of a plot he could have discovered months ago if he'd only been willing to see. If he hadn't been so trusting and acted in the real, then Hawke wouldn't have had to swoop in and clean up yet another mess.

That's how she described it, too. A swoop, and a mess.

Mia's letters were providing little comfort this time, even the newest addition which he had yet to reply to failed to pull him away from the man he was now. His sister had been his biggest supporter growing up and not only encouraged his dream of being a templar, but rallied Branson and Rosalie to help him reach it. She still wrote him like he was the thirteen-year-old idealistic twerp who left Honnleath, and he tried to not let too much of his true self slip out in his responses, as few and far between as they were. He was so much not the brother she knew and he didn't have the heart to break hers by telling her as much.

“Knight-Captain?”

Cullen lifted his gaze to the doorway, not nearly as surprised as he should have been to see the source of his other lapse in judgment – Ebrisa. She was in mage robes, but wore a simple smock over them to keep clean with a wooden bucket hanging on one arm and a large, canvas bundle in the other. Her hair was pulled back, braided and looped into a secure bun at the base of her neck, a much more elaborate style than she usually sported, likely due to the extra free time she had now.

When he made no move to leave or speak, only acknowledging her with his quick visual assessment of her appearance, Ebrisa entered the yard and knelt down by the flowerbed furthest from him. She removed the bucket from her arm and rolled out the bundle of fabric, revealing her gardening tools and several sheets of burlap. Cullen made no indication that he wanted to be alone, but he hadn't started a conversation either and after the awkward way she had ended their last one, Ebrisa was hesitant to initiate.

She worked as quietly as possible, carefully digging around the base of the dying plants to reach their web of roots and shaking loose as much dirt as she could before setting the sprouted bulb on the burlap. Cullen watched her as she worked, eying the sharp spade in her hand and the gentle way she moved it through the ground, knowing it could easily slip between the gaps in his armor if she rushed him. He scrutinized her familiarity with the small pruning knife as she pressed its edge through the withered stem, exerting just enough pressure to cut the plant and not her thumb, wondering if she would use the same tender grip slashing the blade across his throat.

Anything – everything – could be a weapon, which is why tools of all kinds were so closely guarded. This one mage was the exception to that rule, approved by Meredith to not only use the sharp instruments whenever she wished, but to do so without supervision. Looking at it objectively, it was a ridiculous and dangerous liberty. What was to stop this mage from using her knife on others? From slicing her own flesh and summoning a terrible creature with blood magic?

Mages were dangerous and had to be watched.

Just like how Chantry clerics were incapable of deception and murder.

Cullen nearly snorted at the generalizations, knowing full well that neither Ebrisa nor Petrice fit them. He thought back to the first time he had caught Ebrisa break a rule and used a pair of pruning sheers simply because she had wanted to be useful and make the yards look nicer. Even then, she had shown no fear of him. Oh, she stuttered and stumbled over herself, but that had been purely for her own mistakes and she made no protest to whatever punishment she would receive. He should have punished her, but he didn't. Cullen was unsure if it was because she had been so new to the Gallows or because she genuinely seemed to be remorseful, but he'd helped her complete her task.

Ebrisa had earned Meredith's trust over the years, and it was more or less Cullen's doing. If he'd simply taken the sheers and left instead of returning with someone to supervise her, then Ebrisa would have ended her gardening endeavor before it really began and the Knight-Commander wouldn't have granted her any special treatment – possibly never even interacting with her directly. It was almost too easy to visualize – Ebrisa quietly going through her apprenticeship with no conflicts with templars and being too reserved to protest any issues with her peers. Completely disappearing into the background as just another mage and having no cause to ever leave the Circle or speak directly to Meredith. She'd still go to service in the chapel of course, but would she have been able to inspire others to do the same?

As Ebrisa moved to the other flowerbed and settled down only a few feet from where Cullen sat on the bench, he was struck with the sudden realization that he wouldn't have noticed her in the background. She'd just be a name that popped up in quarterly reports he'd struggle to associate a face to. Maybe he would remember the young girl escorted to the Gallows by Aveline with two small children or the horrified expression on her face as she hit him with a small branch, but those were in her first year. They gave a glimpse of her character, but not enough to leave a lasting impression on their own and she'd slip away into obscurity.

Maybe she'd still fall under whatever sickness had claimed Feynriel, but Meredith would not have granted her leave to the Chantry... Ebrisa likely wouldn't have even felt confident enough to ask. She'd suffer the guilt quietly, but if she never went to the Chantry, Quentin never would have known about her... Cullen couldn't help but think that – though her life would have been much different – Ebrisa may have been better off if he'd treated her like a normal mage from the beginning.

“Blaming yourself again?”

Cullen straightened and finally looked at something besides the mage. He tried to speak, but found his mouth oddly dry.

“I heard from Sister Anabel at service this morning,” Ebrisa continued softly as she gathered the iris bulbs. “Mother Petrice fooled many people – even the Grand Cleric could not see what was happening until it already came to a head. They spent every day together, worked beside each other, and Revered Mother Elthina could see the danger no more than you.” She dared a sympathetic look over her shoulder, but Cullen would not meet it.

The Grand Cleric was supposed to see the best in people and have faith in their good nature, he was supposed to know better.

“Knight-Captain, your part in this tragedy is so minute it may as well not exist.” Ebrisa turned around fully on the pave stones to better address the man. “Months ago you were investigating rumors about someone who didn't even work with Mother Petrice anymore. She was a small character reference and, by all accounts, not directly involved for some time. There was no reason to suspect her.”

Cullen leaned back on the bench, looking up at the grey sky and briefly noting it was much too dark for still being so early in the day. He had heard some of Petrice's sermons – her detest for the Qunari was evident – and he should have realized what that meant. He should have known she was hiding something. When Cullen directed his attention back to the mage, he was a little startled to see her frowning at him disapprovingly.

“Knight-Captain,” she said with a tone Cullen could only classify as scolding. “Despite whatever unrealistic standards you hold yourself to, there is only one truly omniscient individual, and He is currently absent.”

Cullen could feel the smirk trying to break free the longer he looked at the mage, so he returned his gaze to Mia's letters and hid behind the sheets before he cracked. Ebrisa just seemed to have an answer for everything, so long as it wasn't her own problem. He wondered briefly how that could be possible, how she could encourage others but deny herself the same courtesy.

She turned back to her work, taking the hint that the one-sided conversation was over, and continued to clear the soil. Cullen stole a glance at her from time to time as he pretended to read, and went back to his earlier pondering. Yes, Ebrisa's life would have been different if he had not interfered, but his own would have been, too. He would have been deprived her little pep talks, reduced to seeking comfort from only the letters his siblings sent, and he would have been robbed of the levity and warmth she so easily brought him.

Ebrisa may have been better off and spared quite a bit of hardship, but Cullen knew he was definitely in a better place now that she was in his life, despite the negative implications of that admission.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“triad”

Chapter 13: the apology and a promise

Notes: this is a bit of a turning point for Lisa! For now at least... I’m doing one more chapter and then jump right into the spade arc!!! Lots to look forward to~ If you have any questions or theories PLEASE hmu! I’m begging you.

AO3 link

For once, it's nice to not think. My mind lets itself go blank as I fly, my eyes unfocusing into a blur of light and dark. There's nothing but the wind whipping through my hair, my eyes watering slightly from the speed, and the buzz of wings fluttering around my body. 

I don't fly as fast as usual today. I'm tired of rushing; for once, I just want to glide, to savor the flight and the feelings that come with it. I can remember so clearly, the first day I manifested this spell. It was an accident, in a moment of panic that I took to the skies. Floating up there, defying gravity… there was nothing else like it. 

That day…

That was my wedding day. 

It was just a few months ago, but it feels like a lifetime. I still wear the ring on my finger, but I hardly look at it anymore. Anything that makes me think of Julius just hurts , especially now. 

If I actually went through with it… he would hate me. 

Adeline would hate me. 

I would hate me. 

No… I already do. And Adeline probably does, too. 

My gaze focuses again, and drops down to the houses and fields below. Everything is so quiet and peaceful; they have no idea that their lives were almost shattered, rewound, and possibly damaged. Adeline is right; If I turned back time, over a month of everyone's life would be destroyed. Relationships, hard work, all of it… I would abandon them for a better world, not create a better world. At least, that's what I think would happen. Maybe they would just stop existing altogether, and have no idea what hit them. Time and space, obliterated in an instant… 

No. My plan would have never worked in the first place.

Somehow, I'm relieved to admit it to myself. 

Horatio is weakened… if I took his gravity magic, it would hurt him. And his mana might not be enough to do what I want. 

I doubt that there's any gravity mages strong enough to match me in this world. 

Suddenly, I smell smoke. I let my lets drop down from my streamlined position, and quickly skid to a stop. A fire? All the way out here? It seems like I'm in the middle of nowhere, trees stretching as far as I can see. The capitol rises behind me, a dark city silhouetted by the setting sun. But what's on fire?

Then, I see it; a large building, its rooms jumbled and stacked half hazardly on top of one another. The base of the Black Bulls. 

So, that smoke…

I circle farther down, and as I descend I hear a voice. Well, several voices. 

"LUUUUUCK!!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

"A hahahaha! No you aren't, Magna! Your ribs were very tasty."

"MAGNA-SENPAI! You may have some of MY ribs if you want!"

"Keep yer stinkin' ribs, shrimpsta, I'm killing this good for nuthin'-"

"Boyyyys~ stop fighting and have some alcohol!"

"And more nommies!"

It’s the loud, callous, unmistakable sound of a party. However, those sounds fade away quickly as soon as I land with a whoosh right by them.

Magna blinks a few times, then his jaw drops. “A-a-a-h- t-t-that’s the- the-”

“MISS WIZARD KING!!!” Asta springs to his feet from where he sat by the bonfire and quickly does about ten quick bows in a row. “It’s so good to see you here are our humble party, and-”

“Shut yer trap!” Yami grabs Asta roughly by the head and tosses him away. “But really, what brings you all the way out here?” He eyes me suspiciously, and I feet my stomach turn with nervousness. “Are we in trouble?”

I stand there silent for a moment, then manage to crack a smile. “No! No, no trouble! I just, er… needed to…”

The squad stares at me with varying degrees of expression on their faces. Come on… think of something-

Suddenly, Yami lets out a chuckle, immediately dissolving the attention. “Marx is probably driving you up the wall, huh? You don’t have to say it… come on, I’ll bring you a beer.”

For some reason, I nod, even though I have no intention of drinking. I watch Yami walk off to the cooler, and a thought occurs to me. Maybe he’s the reason why I’m here. Maybe he has the answers.

“So, how goes it with that new advisor?” Yami asks me as we walk a little ways away from the rest of his squad. “I heard she was… interesting.”

“Hm? I suppose so-” My heart clenches at the memory of Adeline’s face. “She’s interesting, yeah. Makes things a little less boring, I suppose.” I let out a sigh, smiling a little as I bask in the presence of an old friend. I tear my eyes away from the sunset for a moment to look up at him, only to find him staring at me intensely. I gulp and look away. “Say… Yami…” my mouth moves on its own. “This reminds me of the good old days… remember those?”

Yami lets out a snort. “Yeah, of course. You, me, and Vangeance, drinking and laughing together at the inn every weekend. Those were the days.”

“Yeah, before I got kicked out-” Both of us chuckle at that.

“Well, it worked out for you in the end, didn’t it?”

I shake my head a bit, but my smile doesn’t go away. “I suppose so…”

Silence settles in again, before Yami speaks up, his tone low and husky.

“Back then… you drank more than the two of us combined. You’re a monster… so…”

… uh oh-

“It surprises me that you haven’t even sipped your beer.”

I glance down at the open bottle, my hand clutching it tightly. Slowly, I look back up to see Yami still staring, his eyes narrowed.

“Tell me… what’s been botherin’ you?”

I let a little breath of laughter escape my nose, and I almost look away.

“Bothering me? No way, not anything, really…”

I should have known that I could never hide anything from Yami. Ever since the first time we met, 8 years ago, he somehow knew everything he could have wanted to know about me. And today is no exception. He stares at me with an expressionless face as his question hangs in the air, just like his cigarette hangs lazily from his teeth. But his eyes betray the concern he holds inside.

Don’t lie… what’s wrong?

There could be many answers to that question, ranging from minimal to world-changing. Each one compounding upon the other, higher and higher until there is no end. And the worst part is that I want to tell Yami everything. For once, I want to share this burden with someone, anyone. I’m desperate to do anything that could make me feel better, even if it’s a long shot.

But I can’t.

There’s hardly any room left in my shrinking heart… but there’s still a place for you, Yami. There always will be.

The sounds of his squad are the only things to break the silence, along with the buzz of evening cicadas in the woods, and the crackling fire of their barbeque.

… I won’t put that burden on you, Yami. But, I know you’re not going to give up, so I’ll need to tell you another secret…

“I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widen, but I look away before I can see the rest of his shock register on his face. “...damn,” he finally responds after a good five seconds of silence, his voice lower now. “...is it-”

“Who else’s would it be?” I cut him off, knowing exactly what he was going to say. The beat of quiet stings me after my words. “Sorry-”

“No, you’re fine, that was a stupid question.” Yami takes a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling. The smoke dances in the air for just a moment before dissolving away. “So… how do you feel?”

….

“I feel…”

…

“Nothing.”

There’s no way to describe how I feel any better.

“You should leave.”

My eyes widen as Yami’s large hand clasps my shoulder, and I look back up at him. “Huh?”

“You heard me. Go.” His eyes harden. “Look… go somewhere now. Someplace, to some thing… or to some one. Anywhere that makes you feel something.”

His words still confuse me in their suddenness, but I know from his tone that he’s dead serious. Go somewhere? Why? Where would I go? “What do you mean, something?” I frown, turning to face him straight on. All this time, I’ve been avoiding those emotions that would otherwise cripple me, and that’s the only reason why I’ve remained so strong.

Right?

Wrong…

I’m weak. I’m built upon stilts that a mild wind could blow out from beneath me. I’ve deprived myself of the important feelings and relationships that might have saved me from the abyss.

But, nothing could have saved me, right? I’m going to die, no matter what. So what’s the point of-

“Stop overthinking it!” Yami shakes me violently for a moment, and I let out a shriek of surprise. “I don’t care if you’re the Wizard King, you’re something more important than that. You’re my friend… and you’re the one Julius loved. So go.” His mouth twitches into a smile. “Go and feel. It doesn’t matter what it is. Grief, anger, sadness, fear… any of it is better than nothing. Because if you force yourself to feel nothing, you’ll never feel happy again.”

His words and shaking finally nail some semblance of sense into my head, and as soon as he lets go I start to back away. My heart is thumping, my blood is heating up. Not with anger or fear, but with purpose. Because, he’s right. I don’t want to live these last months like I’m already a corpse. I want to live. 

I’m the Wizard King… YES.

I AM the Wizard King!

I’m the most powerful person in this kingdom, and for the rest of my life, I’m going to act like it. 

Yami’s grin widens in tandem with mine, and a long-absent glint reappears in my eyes. “Yami… thank you. There’s so much I need to do…” Smiling brightly, I salute him. “I’ll talk to you later! I won’t be a stranger!”

“You better not be-” Yami warns, saluting back for once. “Don’t do anything stupid, now.”

I let out a little scoff. “As if you have any right to tell me that.” I wink before turning away, already activating my flight spell. Without another word, I shoot into the air and back towards the castle. Yami watches silently from the ground, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“What was that about, Captain?”

“None of your business, Asta.”

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

Somehow, I manage to get home before the sun goes down; that’s how fast I fly. Julius could get from place to place in mere instants, and I’m more happy than ever that I managed to appropriate that trait. I Fly right through a window and hit the hallway ground running.

“Adeline! ADELINE!!!”

There’s so much that I need to set right. With Adeline, with Marx, with my friends… especially William. I did something horrible and manipulative to him. I have no right to hold my forgiveness above his head; in fact, I should be the one asking for his. But right now, I need to find-

“Adeline! There you are!” I run around the corner and spot her standing by the window. Adeline whirls around to see me stop short. For a moment, the air becomes awkward, and I take a nervous breath. A few minutes ago, I didn’t even want to face her-

“I’m sorry…” Adeline surprises me by speaking up. “The way I talked to you earlier… that was so disrespectful. I thought about it all, and I wanted to say that I’m in no place to question your plans. In fact-” She squeezes her eyes shut. “If you want to go back in time and save your husband, I’ll do anything in my power to help- AH!” She cuts herself off as I suddenly jump forward and wrap my arms around her. She freezes up, her hands trembling.

“Adeline… it’s me who should be sorry,” I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut and burying my face in her shoulder. “I’m in no place to question fate and the laws of nature. You told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear… and because of that…” I feel my face heat up against her shoulder.

“... I need you, Adeline.”

Slowly, I pull back and look up at her, my hands lingering on her arms. Slowly, almost unconsciously, she shifts to keep holding me, her eyes wide and shocked at the sudden confession.

“Adeline… do you love me?”

Somehow, that particular question doesn’t shock her as much as I expected. In fact, she almost seems to relax.

“... to be perfectly honest, I’ve never been in love. So, I don’t really know how it feels,” she begins, her words just the slightest bit hesitant. “But, I want to be. And more than that… I want to be in love with you. And, I know this is probably the worst time to say that, but it’s the truth. Even if you don’t want anything to do with me, I still just want to make you happy.”

I squeeze her arm, and I start to smile once again. My heart is pounding again, with a feeling that stirs memories of long ago. “Adeline… you’ve always made me happy. And if you want to be in love with me, then by all means… go ahead.”

We both know that Adeline is right; this is the worst time. But it’s also the best time. Maybe things will never be the same as me and Julius, but different is still good. I refuse to deprive myself of love at the end of my life.

Adeline doesn’t have to answer. Her golden eyes soften, and before I know it, we both lean in at the same time. Our lips meet in the middle, and time stands still.

So… soft…

Her arms wrap around me and pull me closer, and I let myself dissolve into the bliss I denied myself for so long.

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

There’s someone else that I need to speak to, though. I bid Adeline goodnight before walking downstairs. The castle is silent, almost abandoned. But I can’t bring myself to feel melancholy at the sight of the emptiness. Because, for once, I’m not empty. 

I continue farther and farther, then exit into the castle gardens. The grass moves silently under my feet as I walk, dew and mist puffing up with each step. Roses and peonies stare silently as I make my way to the back. I pause for only one moment as I pass the fish pond, its perimeter laced with green and white clovers. The bench sits there, empty. 

But I’m not empty.

I shake my head, smiling, before continuing on. Finally, I reach my destination. It’s a humble memorial, just what he would have wanted. The grass has already grown over the spot that was dug up. Bouquets of flowers are piled up all around the headstone, where a name is engraved:

Julius Novachrono.

It’s hard to believe that I never once came down here to visit. But, I’m here now. Slowly, I let myself sink to my knees, the cool grass hitting my skin through my tights. I sit and stare, and finally I feel a few tears start to bubble up.

Yami wanted me to feel… and I am feeling now.

Despite having so much bottled up, I can’t bring myself to sob or scream. My quiet grief leaks down my face and drips to the ground, watering the ground. After a little while, I bring my hand up and use the back of it to wipe the tears away. I take a deep breath, then let it out through my nose.

Breathe.

“Julius… I’m sorry this took so long.”

I know he doesn’t answer. But maybe, somehow, he’s listening.

“I almost did something terrible today… can you believe how selfish I can be?” I let out a ghost of a laugh. It’s still a painful thing to cope with, but somehow the situation feels brighter. I resisted temptation. There’s so much to live for now.

“And anyway… I’ll be seeing you soon. Sooner than I thought…” I sigh, my hand coming to rest on my stomach. “My life loves to be complicated, doesn’t it? Well… I’ve always found a way to pull through. Maybe I won’t succeed this time, but-”

A spike of determination flows through my hand and into my body. 

“I will fix everything before I have to go.” I tear my eyes from the ground to look at his name. The air feels warm… maybe from my mana, or maybe from something else. Either way… I can’t help but smile.

“I’ll be the best Wizard King that ever lived… I’ll protect the Kingdom. I’ll train my successor. I will give birth to this baby. And… I’ll make Adeline the happiest woman in the world. I promise, Julius… I swear on my love to you that I’ll be someone you can be proud of!”

And then, when it’s all over…

I stand up, walking over to the headstone. My hand drifts across the surface, over the etching of his name, before I lean down and press a kiss to the J.

I’ll join you again.

Next time: Chapter 14. Lisa poses a challenge to the Captains at their tournament.