#and then i felt the walls of hyperfocus close in

[yepthatsacowalright]

In a platonic and intellectual way I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now. The Danels (Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert, creators of Everything Everywhere All At Once) just did a talk at SXSW. It's called 'How We Pulled Off Everything Everywhere All at Once.' Except as soon as they got on stage, they announced that they've already given that talk several times elsewhere, showed QR codes to watch those on YouTube if you're interested, and then pivoted to talking about so much real shit about humanity, inequity, climate change, the past, the future, now, storytelling, art, paradoxes, self-care, religion, addiction, AI, etc. instead that I still feel my brain vibrating about it. Some highlights (that I probably transcribed poorly but tried my best): "The earliest cultures, a lot of them, all around the world, believed in animism. And for those who don't know, [animism] is this belief, this story that they told themselves, that every living creature, rock, tree, river, had a soul, had a life. And a lot of modern people...kinda laugh at that, and think it's a little silly. But regardless of what you believe, that story was actually really beautiful, because it kept things in balance, right? There was this really beautiful relationship with the world around them. When we invented agriculture, we couldn't just force an oxen to drag a plow, because that oxen had a soul. And so we changed the story of the oxen and said, 'Oh, actually we're not all beautiful, soulful things. We're gonna lower the value of this one thing.' And you see this happening slowly throughout history, every new achievement. We've done it to the trees. The trees are incredible, beautiful things that provide food, water, shelter, cooling the Earth, giving us the oxygen we breathe, and we've reduced their story to $70 of lumber at Home Depot. And, like I said, some of this is necessary. Even the oldest cultures who believed in animism would kill, would chop down trees, but there was a narrative where there was grieving, and there was respect, and there was gratitude, and that has been lost. And we have slowly created an entire world where everything is disposable. Our shoes, our cars, our phones...we're all culpable, we're all responsible for this. But the worst part is we've done it to the people. And these devaluing stories, they become normalized and compounded through generational amnesia. And we slowly move the threshold of who is valuable and who isn't.

For instance, modern capitalism and the capitalist workforce only works if we are able to compel people to work, because we can't force them to work. And so we had to change the story we told ourselves, and say that your value is your job. You are only worth what you can do. And we are no longer beings with an inherent worth.

And this is why it is so hard to find fulfillment in this current system. The system works best when you're not fulfilled.

Which brings me back to AI.

There's gonna be a lot of people who are saying how amazing AI is, and it is. It's magic. It's probably going to solve cancers, probably gonna give us a lot of climate solutions. This is a powerful thing. But I'm really terrified of this new story we're gonna have to tell ourself in order to accept this new convenience, this new progress. ...to imagine what [AI] will do within this current system, within this current incentive structure...this is the same system that brought us climate change, income inequality, and the general lack of gratitude and understanding of our worth and the worth of those around us. And so one of the things I'm realizing we all have to be doing...is we have to really rewrite the system story, and center what is truly valuable." "We are addicted to a system. We know how to solve our problems, we understand what a lot of the solutions are, we just don't know how to actually have the will to do it. And so if you look at us, collectively, we are on step one. We are finally, after decades, admitting that there is a problem, specifically climate change amongst other things. And now we need to be actively thinking about, okay, what kind of stories are we gonna be telling to bring us into that second step?" HIGHLY RECOMMEND watching the entire 1-hour talk. I promise it does not feel like an hour, and it is 8000% worth your time:

[obscurism]

Anna with a s/o that has burn out? Lmao I keep seeing posts like that and I feel like I relate so why not have my comfort character that kills for a living comfort me by reading about them?!

Absolutely ✨️

If you ask me she'd absolutely comfort her partner no matter what situation they were dealing with (and oof that burnout part hits close to home).

Short fic is under the cut for you and hope you enjoy 😉

It was late into the night as you worked at helping Anna sharpen the blades of hatchets, your eyes heavy as you tried to work for as long as possible.

You knew it was a bad idea, pushing yourself like this. You'd already almost hurt yourself on dull blades a few times, but you kept telling yourself 'just one more' as you grabbed one hatchet blade after another. Despite Anna taking care of you, almost too much to be healthy out of her own paranoia, you wanted to prove yourself useful.

Many times you had gone with her on small hunts to find rabbits she had trapped. Still, she would not let you go out on excursions for bigger and more dangerous prey. You knew it was for your own safety, but still you hated the feeling of being left behind to tend to things in the cabin while Anna was out in the forest making sure that you both were fed. Even after returning she didn't stop making sure everything was more than comfortable for the two of you.

If the logs were running what she deemed to be too low in stock outside, she'd quickly go and chop up more wood for the hearth. When she found the amount of wood adequate, she'd go right to butchering the game she'd just caught. Though she allowed you to help with the butchering, it never felt like you were doing enough in comparison. So when you were finally given tasks outside of throwing logs on the fire, you went about the task with hyperfocus.

Of course, you would quickly run out of energy despite trying to pace yourself, and it was something Anna had noticed.

Whether you knew it or not Anna always kept watch over you, sometimes in overt ways, but much more in subtle ways. From the corner of her eye she'd watch as you would furrow your brow at the Cyrillic in the books you attempted to learn how to read to the way you would look at her with adoration when you thought she wasn't looking.

So of course Anna noticed each time she looked up from sharpening her axe that you were becoming wary.

She waited and waited for you to stop, but quietly she rested her axe on the side of the couch and went over to you at the work bench. As you went to reach for another dull hatchet blade, gently she grabbed your wrist. Pulling your hand up to her lips, she kissed at the back of your hand in a silent command for you to stop.

Letting out a deep sigh, you leaned back into the chair you sat in, allowing your head to tilt back onto Anna's chest as she stood stoic behind you. You closed your tired eyes for a moment and felt her lips now on your forehead.

"Hope I was able to sharpen enough for you..." Your voice was soft, another sign that you had pushed yourself too much. For hours now you had been sat in the chair after dinner, and while there was no clock on the walls you were sure that it was late into the night.

Anna looked over at the neat pile of freshly sharpened blades, nodding her head to indicate that it was more than enough. She then looked back down at you, kissing your forehead once more. "Sleep."

Her words weren't a suggestion, but a command.

Without warning, Anna pulled the chair out from the desk and hoisted you up over her shoulder. You needed sleep and she was going to make sure of it. For many days now she had watched you work later and later into the night around the cabin. It worried her how much you deprived yourself of sleep to help her and caused her to wonder if she was doing enough for you.

By the time she made it to the bed, she didn't even bother letting you change. Instead she simply placed you gingerly onto the mattress and covered your body with a quilt.

You tried to protest by sitting back up, but Anna simply pushed you gently back down. "No, you sleep."

A yawn escaped your lips and betrayed your actions, but you weren't going to argue with her.

Reaching up, you grabbed one of her hands and pulled it to your own lips, kissing it as you looked up at her with heavy half-lidded eyes. You watched as a soft smile crept up onto her normally stoic face before she leaned down and gave you a kiss goodnight, squeezing your hand before letting it go.

Normally, you would have held onto her until you drifted off to sleep, but tonight you were too exhausted. Instead you simply laid your head on the pillow and as soon as your eyes closed you felt yourself quickly dozing off to sleep.

Shutting the door behind her, Anna glanced at you one last time before shutting it behind her. Heading back down to finish sharpening her axe, she made a mental note to be as quiet as a mouse in the morning when she awoke to hunt. You needed the rest and she was going to make sure you were going to get it.

[cl0udpup]

I told my therapist I think I'm autistic

I told her I'd been doing a lot of self reflection and discovery lately, and think I might actually be autistic.

Since it took me 30 years to realize I have ADHD, it made sense to me that I wholly missed all the signs of autism, as I had no idea what either of those things were. Once I realized so many of my problems were caused by ADHD, and found out how intimately linked ADHD is to autism, I started looking into it. I found myself relating much more to AuDHD than ADHD on it's own.

She said a way to tell the difference between them is: - ADHD is knowing how to do something, but being unable to - Autism is not knowing how to do something, and being unable to Basically that ADHD is not having the proper executive functioning to do the things you know you need to do, and autism is lacking the innate skills, as if there is a piece missing you're supposed to know, but don't. She seemed hesitant, asking me questions about things I remember as a child (which is hard for me to remember,) but ultimately did agree with things I said, and said she "emphatically supports my path of self-discovery."

I told her that because right now I'm sober (not using regularly/constantly, only a few times a year now) for the first time since I was 12, not in any kind of toxic relationships, and the most stable I've ever been, I feel like I'm seeing myself for the first time. She squealed and said she was gonna cry and that is so huge. She said this puts me in a good place to trust myself and the experiences I connect with.

We talked about my prior diagnoses of bipolar 2 and borderline. She asked me how I felt about it first, and that she didn't want to invalidate any connection I felt to those resonating with me, but she has never in all our years working together seen or felt anything close to bpd in me.

The fact that I "cured" my bpd traits after learning about attachment disorders just isn't something she has seen happen for people who actually have bpd. That despite my struggles with emotional deregulation, I have always shown up to our sessions predictably and constant in who I am. In comparison, her experience with her bpd clients is that it can be really hard to break through the walls of trauma masking and to connect vulnerably. That there is usually a lot of struggle with sense of self in how they present in therapy.

We discussed how bp & bpd kind of felt like an acceptable explanation to me in how it was described in my psych eval. My biggest complaint at that time was extreme mood swings. I felt I was cycling in and out between periods of generally low mood, to generally chaotic moods, over the course of a few times a year, but also experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions throughout the day, up and down constantly.

Looking at this through the lens of AuDHD, I think that experience can be much better explained by impulsivity and sensory overload leading to meltdowns and shutdowns. The "bipolar" mood shifts in reality I believe were periods of hyperfocus and then burnout.

The thing that leaves me troubled is really grasping what AuDHD is. There is so much overlap between ADHD and autism, I feel my therapist is noticing how strongly my experiences align with ADHD. The problem is we don't have very much data on what the AuDHD experience truly is.

There is so much focus on what one was like as a child, and since so many of us began masking, compensating, hiding our true selves so incredibly young, it really feels impossible to recognize what's what from back then.

I think maybe I need to understand what are the autistic experiences that allistic ADHD'ers do not share. What are the things that looked at on their own could not be attributed to ADHD? This will be my next line of research.

[stxrmnight]

Thanathos

An Azem based on F and M Midlander models: different from Nemi in eye colors and shape, facial structure, hair and skin tone, but closer in chin and lips. I saw this hair design contest entry and felt it fitted the base idea perfectly, so I traced over and finalized this lingering concept.

Her odd eyes and hair style of organized ruffle reflect a divide in his behavior and interests in regards to society and herself.

Their Apartment is a studio where they keep and organize the landscaping artworks made in their travels, though the painting here is clearly nothing like that. In fact, it caused great scandal and upheaval before Thanatos left the convocation and disappeared from Amaurot without a trace. Just what was in his mind?

Here is how Azem and WoL Compare in stats

(cw for person restraining with bindings under the cut, but no more than that)

He's that person who speaks little and seems very calm and collected, but has a wild imagination and proposals that make her fit for the Azem role. Their honest talk can be disconcerting from how direct with verbose language it is, but his scant words are always earnest. He is perceived as observant but closed off in hyperfocus.

She seeked the seat of Azem to paint as much different landscapes as she could find, specially with the new tints brought by the dance of the moon and the sun. His expositions upon return to Amaurot enchant the people, making her respect despite eccentricities. He feels there is something missing in his paintings that makes them not as evocative of what he felt exploring.

Despite his great skill for art, his passion is definitely recent. He only took on the practice when, passing the Amaurot equivalent of college after a failed rivalry with Hythlodaeus in the matter building principles track. His aethersight is much weaker so, hard leg to jog. Despite this, she accepted an invitation to a painting demo by the current seat of Altima. She found her calling in this visit, and was surprised by a gift of Hythlo of many materials that he forced Hades to help him select. Hythlo would tease "he finally saw a good smile beyond that stone carved stoicness of hers, and she's ought to carve it brighter." He chuckled at this and became a bigger frequency in their circle, specially asking their aid for scouring archives of past landscapes of the Earth. Despite this, both men feel is Thanatos not completely open about her inner world nor seeking of direct connections with people. Or maybe he is really that passion driven? This gap in perception made Emet crestfallen when Nemi, the "familiar," punched him and berated him during the Lykaeon matter. He wondered if this is what Thanatos really thought of this personality...

In the matter of concepts, Thanatos has a complicated history: she found early on her attempts at organic living things were a major disaster due to anxiety in the physical creation stage. The only thing he ever managed were non offensive mendellii orchids. To "graduate" as a society member, he made different kinds of glass materials and layouts of decorative stairs and big vases for huge plants terrariums, which still veers close to composition of spaces..

But in his travels as Azem, she finds a creature bleeding from the back. To save it, she closes the wound and molds wings thinking of Halmarut's wing in the akadaemia. And so, he accidentally makes the first Griffin named Griepas, which stays at his side even when he tries to depart in Amaurot. He makes a secret space for it before finally justifying its existence to the Bureau without having it sent to Elpis: it was an accident of compassion, not an attempt to break the balance. He would personally keep the creature under his control and safe.

For the "Grapes" incident, she trapped the volcanic aether in a fictional plane, painting and moving the paint up in the air until it cools vertically... Leaving a wall of lava the locals take as a promise of protection.

In his travels as Azem, he developed canvas as supplies fitting for plein air painting, both in normal extreme conditions. She would frequently submit concepts for review long after she's already made and used them in paintings submitted to the gallery. No one saw the point when most could make concepts from thin air, but none of those matched the volume and play in colors of Thanatos' works. He did devise shortcuts for his work though: layering add and erase on physical canvas, just like layers of a digital art program.

From a young age, he's an all rounder. His abilities ring to weapons and abilities akin to a Sage, Red Mage and Warrior. He was not a fan of sparring though, and left fighting was a last resort in all his travels as Azem. He still mastered his styles under Venat's mentorship though he didn't like sparring with people. Her connection to her was majorly professional, but he seemed content with her dynamic insights on connections between people and deeply respected her for the insights that deepened his artistic thinking. Venat understands his focus and, aloofness deeply enough to tell him of the truth of the future and his part to play on it.

Learning of Nemi made a drastical change on her person.

For someone to carry his same soul, but be so vivacious and strong through horrors he would never think of, punch a guy that is overlauded and capture his mentor's affections... She musthave seen so many sights he'll never get to see and paint. Everything about her is more exciting than the present world of monotone Academy and no risk taking. He realized then he liked the challenge art itself presented: you couldn't snap your finger into good texture and clear forms. Trying to magick out a mental image took enough brain power to cause organ failure...

From all this, people would realize she randomly smiles more with her head in the clouds. Musings of Nemi could her every thought. For the first time he studies how to draw people. He makes a excuse to visit Elpis and trace the places where she must have wandered, longing to open her mind and see this stiff world through her eyes.

That's when she saw the object of her obsession leaving the Gates of Pandaemonium a second time, she immediately casts sleeps on her and binds her standing in her apartment, floating with arms up and underdress of her armour on. It's like a cat putting its paw on a pigeon as it tries to struggle away, and that's how Nemi screams and struggles once she wakes up. He gestures her to compose, pushing water and Deipnon on her lips as an act of good faith. He'd clear her airways as she sneezes on it, apologizing for the roughness and circling her with remarks on the depth of her muscles and tangents of her ears. Nemi would demand to know what the fuck does she want, and she'd turn a chair and sit on it leaning on the backrest, smiling and whispering, "to know your soul no longer mine."

She would then recite how she wishes to reside and live in her soul, to see that world that is new but still the same earth with the different winds, fears and sensations born from precious mortality. Nemi would be surprised but, strangely touched Thanatos wants to get to know her, assuming there are really no sultrier intentions than a longing for ego death. She realizes Thanatos is out of her sight suddenly, and screams as several scissors seem to dig and cut at the nerves at her back. Nemi manages to back kick her in the gut and then cough blood, black spots forming in her eyes. Thanatos panics and overheals her slowly, claiming the aetherbouncer had never caused this effect in any living creature before. His magicks have actually expanded her lifespan for at least 86 years, but he won't realize this yet. First, he'll release the bindings and confess the frustrations he bears with society that led to his fixation. Nemi is actually intrigued and, surprised by this kind of struggle, observing his audience is too distant from his lived experiences: beautiful a painting might be, people who've never left the city and felt nature in its full element won't have the experience to imagine vividly. Thanatos realizes how alone he felt in this frustration, feeling different when connecting to others.

With this, Nemi would ask Thanatos what he likes to paint, in exchange for the perspective of hers he seeks. They would fall in balanced conversation, with a sudden shorter version of Nemi flanking Thanatos' side and the original asking if she still wants to feel what her soul is like. Rather than question, Thanatos nods fast and extends her hand to the apparition as requested, the trio engaging in communion crossing their lived sensations and memories. End of the experience, she tearfully asks if she could paint her. Nemi, now relaxed and in power of the situation, undresses fully and asks how topose.

Because of the Communion, Thanatos sees flashes of lived experiences on her: her weapons, her bones, the tail limbs and horns of flesh when she was a Lightwarden, the light bleeding from the present scars on her back. All these were mixed in the shape building of her form with the face obscured. Nemi just hummed in approval and motivated him to keep going before leaving, unaware Thanatos would title the work "Divine Death."

After this, Thanatos would surprisingly talk more to his colleagues and expose facts and feelings on the biomes she's visited to anyone who'll listen. This sunny growth makes the submision of Divine Death to the Akademia gallery, well... When the work is unveiled, gasps of shock and even a scream would be heard. No one painted in such dark earth colors and the form was alien to a landscaping artist. Thanatos just laughed to himself leaving the precinct, satisfied with his last works and preparing for one last travel. Only Emet would get to intercept her on her way out, demanding to know what possessed her. She would answer, "True nature and spark. I'm going to transform into the beauty and breath in synchronicity with the land. This place is too blind to my taste. Forgive me for this, but I will have to leave the Convocation. Please do your best within your coffin." Emet was left too stunned to speak, later concluding he suffered hysteria as an early effect of the Final Days.

With this, she would not be seen again, not by pursue parties or breaks into his studio in search for clues. People would be shocked to find more obscure paintings and visions of mortal suffering and cruelty, the terrifying figure of the first painting enacting punishment on some of the offending subjects. This was when rumors of the final days reached from other lands, and why search parties aimed for him in particular. Some of the paintings were leaked and feeding into the fear of the people and terror a figure like death could really exist, and be condemning them to this suffering for what reason? Was the lost Azem clairvoyant, or had his studio been Pandora's Box of horrors to become reality?

Meanwhile, he would reach a beautiful valley of flowers, the kind with the flora you only see near active volcanoes. He would eat and pace with the animals there, bereft of any contact with Blasphemies. She is too at peace, waiting for Venat to make the needed choice and sunder her into what she wishes. Even if he won't get to see it, so many incredible memories and places will etch into his soul foreve.

"Yes, split me apart and let the pieces join into my idol."

And that was the end of the last Azem. When he died, he knew he left behind a struggler that would avert the catastrophe and live happily, but he knew nothing of the chaos and dread his paintings would arise

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

you set my soul on fire

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: explicit content warning: shameless porn, breeding, heat cycle shit, cursing, degradation reader has a bunny quirk and recieves assistance from their two almost-boyfriends dabi n hawks

you couldn’t believe that this was happening.

you knew, of course, exactly what was going on. and you knew the reason why. and still, it surprised you to know that you were about to go into heat.

this was something that usually happened sporadically throughout the year, but you knew it could be triggered by specific stimulus.

like the two men you had been seeing.

it started with a sudden uptake of symptoms, like your body being more sensitive (especially your non-human parts, you had to sleep on your stomach even more than usual now to keep from rubbing on your tail at night), and your temperature rising slowly. you put the pieces together finally when you snapped at the poor mailman for being near your doorstep, like they had to do, for their job.

you weren’t particularly emotional out of heat, so this made clear to you what was happening.

but before you could really prep an arrangement or really do much, it was upon you. your body was hot, hot, hot. you couldn’t think straight, mind going into a bit of a frenzy as you lay in your bed. and as you realized where you were, your bunny brain (as you liked to not-so-fondly refer to it) decided that this was not the proper space for a heat. you were up and throwing your blankets off of your bed within the minute, stripping it down to the sheet and taking inventory of all of your supplies. you started laying them all back down, surrounding the edges of the bed in pillows (you had plenty just for these scenarios). to top it off, after you had made it safe and comfortable, you laid a few of your shirts into it and eventually went off into your apartment to find a different source of smell.

you knew that one of your boys— dabi— had left a shirt or something here, because you could faintly smell him and it was driving you a little bit crazy. as you rummaged through your living room, the smell got stronger, and with more and more fervor, you ripped your couch cushions off the couch, looked under it, looked behind it, until finally you heard a knock— putting an abrupt end to your frenzy. it still smelled like dabi, so you hoped and hoped that maybe you would get lucky enough to have the real thing in your nest tonight. still, you approached the door with caution, snatching it open to see your favorite zombie man, standing in the hallway of your apartment building. he didn’t have to worry about cameras here, the landlord couldn't afford to have them replaced after they were mysteriously broken around when dabi started coming around.

your knees shook as he looked you up and down with an indifferent expression, eyes looking further into your apartment to observe the mess you has just made in your feverish search. you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him, earning sharp inhale and a soft laugh from above as you nuzzled your way into his shoulder. your mind was going crazy as you inhaled deeply, feeling surrounded in the scent. dabi simply brought an arm around your waist, watching your fuzzy ears lower to your head in content and relaxation.

“hey, dollface, what’s with all the lovey-dovey shit? not complaining, but i saw you a couple days ago.” he murmured, rustling your hair with his free hand, eliciting an elated little clicking sound from you.

you didn’t speak, barely hearing him, too focused on rubbing your face into his coat. eventually, he just sighs softly and pushes you back into your apartment, closing the door behind him. you still hadn’t spoken, and he was a bit confused. he pushed you away gently, only for your foot to thump against your carpet. he laughed a bit at your furrowed brows, and the cute expression you donned. still, he had no answer.

“what’s goin’ on bunny?” he raised an eyebrow at your behaviour. usually, you talked too much. in the couple of months he had been in your life, he had never not once seen you act like this. it was a bit worrying, but he really didn’t want to the think about the implications of him being worried about you.

it took you a moment before you began to come to your senses again, the high of dabi’s presence wearing off slowly.

“hm?” you asked, shaking your head, ears popping back up as to signal that your brain was semi-back online.

“what’s up with you?” you were re-reminded of your surroundings, looking up to meet his eyes as another flare of heat ran through your torso at his neon blue gaze. your face heated up as the embarrassment kicked in, this momentary clarity more of a curse than a blessing.

“i—uh, shit. ok, so, it’s like— my quirk, y’know? like rabbits? and, y’know how rabbits—” you paused your stuttery ramblings, too embarrassed to explain the rest. you hoped and prayed that he would catch on, or something, but he didn’t.

“what? finish your sentence—” he was cut off by the dinging of your phone. he grabbed it before you could, sliding open the screen to see your texts with the other guy you had been fucking around with. dabi himself had been with him, so his face split in a wide grin as he saw the text that had popped up on the screen.

birdie: omw, 10 mins -3-

dabi chuckled as you grabbed the phone, immediately smiling as the heat took hold of your brain again, the prospect of both of them being in the same apartment, your apartment, your space, made your organs gooey.

“well, looks like we’ll have a visitor.” dabi murmured, grabbing at your waist as you sighed happily. your eyes were lidded and unfocused at you looked up at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he backed you up to the wall opposite your door, pressing your lips together in a hungry kiss. it was bliss— the warmth you felt— as the kiss deepened nearly immediately. your stomach flipped as he pulled your thigh up to rest at his hip, other hand moving to fully surround your waist. he pressed his tongue along the seam of your lips, always just this side of too hot. it was lovely, opening to let him in eagerly as you ran your fingers up through his messy dyed hair. he pulled away for a moment.

“jump.” he ordered. it wasn’t a suggestion, so you did, hopping up to wrap your legs around his waist as he moved his way down to nip at your jawline. you could feel the rough staples against your skin. you rubbed your hips down against his crotch, earning a heavy pant against your ear from him, and a soft whine from yourself that you attempted to smother in his shoulder. he started to suck a dark hickey high up on your neck, impossible to hide. he had a habit for that, always so possessive. it turned you on like no other. though he was always a burner, keigo was always the biter. just the though of that got you even more excited, grinding down against the hardness in his pants with a new fervor.

and just as he went to bite along your collar bone, your front door opened. dabi had left it unlocked, and keigo had stumbled in to dabi pressing you against the wall.

“well well well, look at this show.” keigo grinned wide as he walked dabi turn his head to look at him.

“well, your boyfriend’s here.” dabi laughed softly as he murmured in your ear. you quickly derailed yourself from dabi’s arms to nearly tackle keigo, circling him once and wrapping your arms around him, rubbing your chin on his shoulder.

“hi baby.” keigo murmured, rubbing your ears, taken aback when you nearly folded against him at the sensation. you let out a chirp, making him laugh.

“ay, bird boy, you know what’s goin’ on with them?” dabi asked, gesturing to you, as you were face-first in keigo’s jacket.

“what’s up?” keigo asked as your ears lowered again in relaxation, letting out little purr-like clicks.

“they’re not really talkin’. i tried to make em’, no luck. i don’t even know if they’re hearin’ us.” he rubbed his neck.

you were on your own derailed thought train of brain goo. you grabbed keigo’s wrist, grabbing dabi’s as you passed him, and dragging them down your hallway. they simply just followed, both clearly confused. but once you hit your door and showed them the nest you had made, keigo’s eyes dilated and his breath sped up as he realized what was happening.

you had made a nest. you were all over them both. you were in heat.

and currently, you were looking at them for validation. honestly, it was a good nest. keigo had one at home, and the fact that you made a nest and showed them, despite the territorial nature of rabbits, showed your trust and even more showed your current level of horny.

“s’beautiful, baby.” he caught his breath and had his arms around you just like that, backing you up to fall into the nest. you looked gorgeous, spread out on the sheets. he had to get out of his clothes and make this happen or he thought he just might die. and with his hyperfocus, he failed to remember that dabi was still stood at the door, confused as all hell.

“hell, birdie, is this an animal quirk thing? should i go?” he asked, leant against your doorframe. everything in keigo’s territorial nature wanted him to say yes, wanted to take you then, wanted to prove a point, make you his, and your little whimper below him did not help, but as soon as he could clear up his bird brain he turned around to explain what was happening.

“it is an animal quirk thing, but i think they’d kill you if you left.” he laughed. “they’re in heat, you know what that is, right?” keigo hoped he had a clue so that he wouldn’t have to painstakingly explain it, wanting to save a bit of your dignity as you sat in the middle of your nest, eyes wide and glassy.

“yeah, i think i got a clue. its like a horny thing animals do, right?” dabi laughed softly, and keigo was relieved and also mortified for you.

“yeah. get over here.” keigo said, turning back to you. you immediately grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down with you into your nest. your brain was still goo, all you could really think about was the warmth of keigo against you. and soon, you felt another dip in the bed. without thinking, you let out a growl, pulling away to look around wildly. you registered dabi, and nearly jumped him as you pushed him back against your headboard. in a matter of seconds, you had yourself in his lap, rubbing down against his thigh with your head in the crook of his neck. he was completely shocked as you writhed, eventually brain catching up with him as he stared in awe at your figure against him, curves silhouetted in the streetlight through your window. he grabbed at your hips, centering you on his crotch and grinding up.

you immediately keened, back arching and leaning into him, your chests touching. you felt keigo approach from behind, letting out a little chirp as warning that your prey brain much appreciated before he touched you, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking, sensitivity shooting through your veins. you felt surrounded, but not scared as keigo pinned his arms around you, above dabi’s head, caging you in. you felt those teeth you adored nipping at the back of your neck, and you immediately pushed your hips out against him in submission on instinct. your back bowed, dropping to your elbows, putting you in line with dabi’s torso.

“ah, shit. bunny’s eager tonight, huh?” dabi murmured, reaching to pet at your sensitive ears, setting you alive again like a livewire. you moaned into his shirt, grinding back against keigo. you tugged at his shirt, pulling off your own and pulling at your other clothes as well. dabi tugged his shirt off, but before he could throw it somewhere off in the room, you took it from him, setting it next to him in his neck. you took keigo’s and did the same, his pupils dilating a considerable amount.

he leaned over you, whispering in your ear. “show off, baby. you know how to, don’t you? help him out and i’ll take care of you. i know you can do it, i know you do—” he cut off as you dropped yet again back to the position you were once in, on your knees and elbows, legs spread, but this time, your heat on full display. keigo wasted no time grabbing your thighs and licking a stripe over your hole, making you jump for a moment before pressing back into his face with a whine.

dabi, from above, was watching all of this as his breath ran shallow. he really liked this side of you, all eager and breathy and ready to show off? oh he loved it.

“i love when you act like a whore, baby, it’s such a pretty look on you.” dabi murmured as keigo got to work pressing into you with his fingers as he sucked on your clit. the words set you on fire, panting against his pants. you decided to get to work, unbuttoning his pants— pulling them and his boxers down and helping him shimmy them off— to pull out his sizeable cock. just the sight made you drool, and with no shame or pride to account for in your heat-brain, you bit your lip in excitement. you started sucking on the head, moaning around him as keigo hit a nice spot inside you. your tail was raised but dabi couldn’t help but reach to pet it. this made you whine softly, sinking his cock further into the wet heat of your mouth. usually, it would be a task for you to go all the way, but your entire body was relaxed, and with that, your throat almost barely constricted when dabi bucked up in surprise.

“god damn baby—” he groaned, biting his lip as his head fell back to hit the headboard. you continued working him as keigo worked you.

and speaking of it, he was doing a good fucking job. you were already so wet, and in addition to his saliva, it was dripping down your thighs. the sight made keigo growl, a noise that made you shiver and wiggle your hips just the slightest bit.

he tapped your thigh. “baby, where do ya keep your condoms?” the one day he didn’t bring his own.

you pulled off dabi with a lewd slurp, shaking your head. keigo grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up.

“words, baby, i need words.” he said softly.

it was a moment before your brain caught up to speed. “kei, i—” your face was on fire, as you leaned into his ear. “keigo, don’t. don’t— use one.” you finally forced out, and he realized what you were asking, and decided that he would pay for that mess if it went wrong, because the thought of cumming in you was one he literally could not pass up. his wings flared up.

“what, you want me to breed you, baby? fill you up?” he teased, words dripping with content and arousal as he rubbed your hips. “present yourself, convince me.” he murmured in your ear and pushed you back down, making eye contact with a confused and surprised dabi.

dabi honestly was just along for the ride and really really enjoying it. especially when he watched you push your ass into the air, back arched and chest laying on his legs. he always loved when keigo got like this, that predatory glint in his eyes. dabi had no doubt that whatever words he had just poured into your ear were pure and unfiltered filth.

it was really hot.

and as he felt his cock being engulfed in a warm heat yet again, he watched keigo line up with your cunt unwrapped. he was going to come inside. the thought of that sent warmth even further into dabi’s gut. and even more, he wanted sloppy seconds. he had a thing for it.

and as keigo plunged into you, the moan you let out on dabi’s dick had him pulling your head up by your hair so that he wouldn’t cum right there. he wanted his sloppy seconds, so for now, he grabbed your fluffy ears and pulled you into a kiss. that had you keening and clenching down on keigo, wetness rolling down your thighs. you thrusted back onto keigo, finally bottoming out with a shared groan. once dabi had come down from the edge, you returned to your work on his pierced cock, getting into a rhythm between the two men working you out for all you had.

“holy shit— you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. god, you’re so tight.” keigo was bent over you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades and giving nips to your shoulders as he drilled into you, carving out your insides. your tail was rubbing between you two and all this sensitivity had you pulling off dabi’s cock to desperately pant into his hip bone.

“pretty bunny, doin’ us so good, such a whore.” dabi murmured as he played with your fuzzy ears yet again, and you went back to work to his excitement. you were nearing your end, and you could tell keigo was too by the way his breathing was absolutely ragged against your back. you couldn’t see, but his wings were spread out around you three, on instinct.

“gonna fill you up, baby—” he groaned as you clenched down yet again when dabi tugged at your ears yet again, “you want that? you want it?” you could only nod feverishly with a loud whine, returned to panting into dabi’s hipbone, putting yourself to work sucking a hickey into it that had dabi’s hips jutting up.

and as promised, keigo spilled into you. the sensation of warmth filling your gut, the thought of being bred— pushed you off the edge you had been stationary on for a while now, clenching down with your face contorted into a silent scream as you milked his cock. he fucked you through your and his own orgasm, only pulling out when your moans turned to sharp whimpers. he watched his own cum drip out of you, the sight riling him up and ruffling his feathers in excitement. but still, he had to tend you you.

you flopped down, going limp with dabi rubbing your back softly as you came down from your orgasm.

“are you good, baby? i’m gonna go get them some water.” he signalled to dabi, putting his boxers back on and taking off to your kitchen. he soon came back with three water bottles, poking you until you raised your head in curiosity and gulped one down, setting the now empty bottle away.

and as soon as that was over, the heat in your limbs came sprawling back with a vengeance, lighting you up just as it began the first time. your senses were even more heightened now as you writhed against dabi yet again.

“oh shit, you back? i call sloppy seconds.” dabi chuckled as he moved from his spot against the headboard and practically manhandled you into position. he didn’t wanna put you on your back, because he knew your tail was sensitive, so he raised you up to your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you with his head leaning on your shoulder. he lined himself up with your entrance as he felt keigo’s own cum drip out of you, you pressing back against him. he pushed in slowly, making you feel every little piece of metal as he set your body on edge.

you were slightly more coherent this time, enough for clear words, but still your heat-addled brain had robbed you of any shame you had. thats how, whenever dabi was full seated inside you with no movement, you started running your mouth.

“please— c’mon dabi, give it to me. i’ve- i’ve been good, ple—” a whimper as you felt him pull out slowly and then a pleasured yelp once he slammed back into you, setting into a brutal rhythm. his hands heated up with every little word, noise, or twitch of your tail. pretty soon you were whimpering loudly as you felt his fingertips get just a little bit too hot, burning your flesh and mixing pain into the brain-melting pleasure you were experiencing from the constant drag of him against your walls. keigo’s spend still dripping out of you, dabi smacked your ass ruthlessly, making you fall onto your elbows with a yelp. this also led you to make eye contact with keigo, who was currently staring at you with the most predatory look in his eye you’d ever seen. just that was enough to make you whimper, not to mention how he was palming himself from the head of the bed.

“you should cum on their face, kei—” dabi states from above, “show them who they belong to, or whatever.” he laughed softly, melting into a groan when you clamped down at the idea. he let go of your hips, nudging your thigh for you to move farther up the bed to reach keigo. “go on, help him out. get him off, i know you’re good at it, whore.” his words were harsh, but his tone was warm and gooey, deep in his throat. you clicked your tongue in happiness, crawling up to keigo to kiss him briefly. dabi positioned himself behind you again, slipping in and slamming into you without warning, hitting that spot, oh god—

you moaned into keigo’s mouth, breaking it to wrap your arm around his shoulder and reaching one down to help stroke him off. he was warm in your hand, and his breath was warm against your neck as he left more and more marks. dabi’s strokes became the rhythm that you used to get keigo off as well, eating up their noises like you would die without them.

your second orgasm of the night came to you quickly and unexpectedly, knocking you down to be face-level with keigo’s torso as you let out a loud gasp, clenching around dabi who still managed to slam into you. and he continued to do so, even when it began to work. the oversensitivity was sending your brain into overdrive, your legs shaking so much you could barely keep yourself up. your hand fell away from keigo’s cock and was instead just focused on keeping yourself upright,

“oh— dabi, please, hurts—” you murmured small little mantras that fell on deaf ears as he continued to fuck you, and you felt another pressure building.

“jesus— fuck, fuck, okay—” the pressure continued to build as you panted, and when it snapped, you whimpered loudly as you soaked the sheets, squirting and practically coating your own and dabi’s thighs.

dabi groaned loudly, trying to muffle it by biting his lip but failing as he neared his end. keigo worked his own cock as well, with your head moved to lay on his thigh, trying to catch your breath when each one was a whine from the oversensitivity that dabi was working you into. finally, dabi came, releasing inside you and fucking you through it with a moan as your burns on your hips only got worse. to tell the truth, you actually really liked it. they scarred over and looked kinda cool.

keigo came a few seconds later, painting your face as you stuck your tongue out to catch, putting on your last show. and then everything went still for a moment as everyone tried to catch their breath. you took a large gulp from one of the two remaining water bottles, then handing them to keigo and dabi. you were way more coherent enough, and what just happened hit you in stride. dabi went off to get a washcloth because your legs were practically jello.

“fuck, i’m gonna have to wash ALL of my fuckin sheets. kei, angel, you’re helping me with this.” you stated, chuckling softly with a raspy voice. you took the washcloth when dabi returned, wiping your face down and anything that had dripped down your legs. you were still leaking cum, though. your rabbit brain was very, very happy. but your human brain was kinda freaking out about it.

“dabi, can you go get a morning-after pill? i’ll make you breakfast tomorrow. i gotta take a shower, but you’re free to join me before you leave. i’m having momentary clarity, but know that this probably isn’t over. thank you both for helping me.” you pushed out in panicked breaths, standing up and finding a towel to use in the shower. you gave them both a soft kiss before limping your way into the bathroom (not without a cackle from dabi and a muffled chuckle from keigo).

as you step into the warm spray, you hear the front door shut and you hear the bathroom door open. keigo stepped into the shower with you.

“he’ll be back with the pill, and i put your sheets in the wash. now lemme wash your hair, sweetheart.” he murmured, and again, you melted.

[bridgyrose]

'Silver Eyes are often consumed by this state before being trained in proper use, leading to a trance-like event that makes combat dangerous for everyone involved, including allies and even family. The awakening usually occurs during a single event of extreme stress, usually in a battle of some kind.

The Warriors affected show increased strength, agility, and a seeming immunity to pain

if ever in the presence of a young person in such a state, the best course of action would be to leave the area immediately

-

so essentially, during a high stress fight when her friends are about to die

Ruby goes into a trance, and suddenly turns into a silent little murder machine

beating the daylights out of the opponent with her bare hands, while shrugging off wounds

Basically a hyperfocus mode where everything besides the core intent is irrelevant

Only two things are important there, the intent and survival, pain, morale or anything else is ignored and the target @reaper417

(Changing the ask slightly...)

Ruby stood frozen as she watched her team struggle to fight off Cinder and Mercury. After Cinder had obtained the Summer maiden’s power, everything took a turn for the worse. Tyrian showed up with Mercury, splitting everyone up and leaving RWBY with two opponents. Ruby’s eyes went between each of her teammates: Weiss was pinned down by fire raining from Cinder, Mercury had managed to bust open Yang’s prosthetic, leveling the playing field while Blake lay unconscious on the ground. It was starting to become Atlas all over again, except this time, they were all going to die. No void to save them, no miracle to save them. 

Ruby closed her eyes for a moment, whispering to herself. “I… I have to do something. I have to save them all.” 

Weiss’s scream pierced through the battlefield as Cinder dropped to the ground, standing over Weiss with a sword in hand. 

“And now, I’ll finally be rid of all of you here and now. Nothing else standing in my way.” 

Ruby opened her eyes, but instead of a blinding light pressing out, her eyes looked blank. She rushed forward with her semblance, appearing next to Cinder and dropping the blade of her scythe down to her. 

Cinder quickly formed a second sword, barely blocking the scythe’s blade only centimeters from her face. “Mercury! Get over here!” 

Mercury grinned and pushed past Yang to come to Cinder’s aid. “I told you we should’ve gone after her first!” 

On instinct, Ruby turned her blade and swung at Mercury, causing the silver haired boy to fall back to avoid being sliced in half. She no longer cared to hold back, fighting on instinct and sheer will to survive. She was no longer going to let anyone get hurt by Cinder again. No longer was she going to stand back, but now she was going to end this fight once and for all. In a blinding flurry of petals, she started making quick strikes with her scythe, using every part of it to fight. Her body kept changing between flesh and blood to rose petals near instantly to keep her movements quick and swift. 

Cinder and Mercury managed to barely keep up with each of her strikes, moving out of the way and barely blocking, watching as the scythe blade kept getting closer with each swing. Neither one of them were prepared for this, trying to keep an eye on Ruby’s movements and slowly losing track as the blade started to nick them. 

Mercury managed to pull away, watching Ruby from a distance. “We have to get out of here!” 

“What do you think I’m trying to do?!” Cinder pulled back, feeling the blade slice through her grimm arm. A growl of frustration left her lips as she felt the pain from her arm, watching a new hand start to regrow. “Shit-”

Ruby jabbed the back of her scythe into Cinder’s chest, pushing her down to the ground. In a single movement, she flipped her scythe around, stopping as a glyph kept her from pressing the blade into Cinder. 

“Ruby, that’s enough,” Weiss panted as she held her side, blood dripping from her arm. With a shaking arm, she held her rapier out in front of her to keep focus on the glyphs. “We’re… not supposed to kill her. That makes us no better than her.” 

Ruby looked over to Weiss, her face emotionless as she rushed over to her partner, the intent to kill in each strike. She no longer cared who was in her way: she was going to survive and anyone who got in her way had to be taken care of.

Weiss put up a wall of glyphs to buy her a little time to create a glyph to freeze Ruby’s weapon in place. She took a step back as she watched Ruby stop mid swing, dropping her rapier to the ground as she fell to her knees. “Please Ruby, this isnt you. You need to-” Her words were cut short as she felt the metal of Ruby’s blade run through her arm. She looked up for a moment to see blank, silver eyes staring her down as her arm dropped to the ground. 

Yang slammed a fist into Ruby’s side, knocking the girl over and into one of the large rocks surrounding them. She quickly turned her attention to Weiss, ripping a piece of her jacket to help try to stop the bleeding. “You’ll be fine Weiss. We’ll stop the bleeding and get you back to Vacuo.” 

Weiss nodded, her vision starting to blur as her head felt light. Everything had happened so quickly, and watching Ruby fight with no remorse… “R-Ruby-” 

“Ruby will be fine.” Yang finished bandaging up what was left of Weiss’s arm, taking a few deep breaths herself. “We’ll… we’ll get her a little help…” 

Weiss closed her eyes and fell back, watching as Ruby rushed up to Yang. “Y-Yang!” The name slipped from her lips, eyes finally closing as she watched Yang and Ruby start to fight. 

[iatethepomegranate]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences (for now)

Relationship: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Summary: After Aeor, Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha. For the first time in more than seventeen years, he has some semblance of stability. Caleb is not sure he's ready to handle it, but he's trying, and his friends are eager to see him live a good life, by force if necessary.

And then Soltryce Academy approaches him with a job offer, which could give Caleb the chance to protect the next generation of wizards the way he had needed at their age. Caleb's goal of preventing what happened to him from happening to anyone else, however, takes a far more personal turn than even he could have anticipated.

(In other words, here is a fic about Caleb settling down and learning how to be a person again. Also Professor Widogast will be a thing. Fic title is a lyric from I Have Made Mistakes by the Oh Hellos. Chapter title is a lyric from Mind by Sleeping At Last. More detailed tagging and notes are available on AO3.)

_____

Chapter 1: It's the first brush stroke of a self-portrait

Caleb had mixed feelings returning to Rexxentrum after spending so long in Aeor… and everywhere else he had been, including a fucking flesh city in the Astral Sea. Sure, he had popped back to Rexxentrum regularly to update the Cobalt Soul on his discoveries, and to testify at Trent’s trial, during the conclusion of which he had the satisfaction of turning down Da’leth’s offer to assume Trent’s position as the Archmage of Civil Influence. But now he was back on a more permanent basis.

He didn’t know what to do with that information. With this place, that was both so familiar and so foreign. Full of some of his best memories, and some of his worst.

Caleb had spent so long avoiding this place, or at least the challenging parts of it, and now Beauregard was dragging him and Yasha down the street, infodumping about a house she wanted the three of them to buy together.

“Caleb, don’t give me that look,” she said. “You’re gonna love this place. I know you like your space, dude, and this is the best of both worlds. It’s technically two houses, but there’s, like, a door between them so we can visit each other. Because you’re a fucking genius but you also forget to feed yourself.”

Yasha smiled at Caleb over Beau’s head. “She’s not wrong, Caleb.” Her soft tone made Caleb a little emotional, but he categorically refused to start crying in the street. “I like my space, too. This is a good balance. And there’s room for a garden.”

“Yasha’s not an Empire citizen,” said Beau. “It looks better if there’s two of us Empire kids on the deed so no one thinks any weird shit about her.”

Caleb sighed at her. “I will look at the house, Beauregard.”

Beau yanked them around the street corner. “It’s a great location. You can walk anywhere. I can get to the Archive, and you can get to the Academy.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Maybe. Astrid says hi.”

The implication that Astrid and Beauregard had been speaking to each other recently was of concern. Caleb was too tired to unpack it. He would find out what that was about eventually. It was not worth Beauregard’s sibling-level mockery if he tried to extract the information early.

“Oh, and Veth sent you this,” said Yasha, passing a wrapped package over Beau’s head.

“Yeah, I might’ve told her we’re buying a house together,” said Beau. “She made Yussa send that to the Soul so I could grab it for you.”

Caleb didn’t open the package, but he did shake and squeeze it a little. It felt like coins. A lot of coins. Oh, Veth. Still taking care of him from miles upon miles away. They’d both come so far from Veth sneaking coins into his pockets because he had felt strange about taking her money even when he desperately needed it.

“Danke,” he said softly. That was all he could say, before he risked bursting into tears again. That was happening to him a lot lately. It… wasn’t the worst thing. More of an inconvenience. He chose not to unpack it.

Beauregard was looking at him strangely. He elbowed her. It probably hurt his elbow more than it hurt her, but she was successfully distracted from his bullshit. She punched his arm. Even holding back like she did, his arm did go numb for a few seconds.

Yasha sighed. “Children, we’re almost there.”

Caleb had been down this street before. Rarely, as it was entirely residential. But sometimes he, Astrid and Eadwulf would explore the city to find excuses to get away from the Academy, especially after they had commenced their training with Trent. But, with Caleb’s memory, he could call upon the map he had drawn in his mind. This was a middle-income area on the southern edge of The Tangles, home to mostly professionals--well-off storeowners, any researchers who did not live in the Shimmer Ward or have access to quarters with the Cobalt Soul, some teachers, architects. Largely people looking to settle down with the money to stay out of the Mudtop Ward.

It was close to the Shimmer Ward, a little southwest from the gate, but not so close that Caleb felt an itch on the back of his neck. The Tangles were the oldest part of the city, with narrow looping streets with little logic to them. This area was slightly newer than most of The Tangles, but still old. Regardless, The Tangles were fairly central to the city and an easy starting point for any travel. If you didn’t get lost on the way out.

This far south in the area, the houses were a little more spaced out. A little more green space, more gardens. Duplex-style houses were common, mostly built of old stone or lumpy brick on the first floor and clay bolstered by wooden frames above that. Children were out in force, running and screaming through the narrow streets while their parents watched from the porch of their homes. Well, for those who had porches.

“There she is,” said Beauregard. They had stopped in front of another duplex-style building, newer than some of the others but still respectable in age. The first floor was made from dark reddish brick and the upper two floors panelled with dark wood to bolster the white clay walls. The first two floors were full in width, and the third consisted of two dormers peeking through the darkly thatched roof.

There were two entrance doors on the ground floor, each spaced a third of the house’s width from the outer corners. The rectangular windows were framed in white-painted wood, dividing the glass on each window into six little squares.

Before the three of them was a low wooden fence, also painted white. The paint was chipping a little, revealing the deep brown heartwood that Caleb suspected was oak. There were a number of oak trees in the Pearlbow Wilderness. Caleb had slept under them several times in worse days. Oak was rather expensive, if he remembered correctly. He usually remembered correctly.

“She’s pretty hot, right, Caleb?” Beau said, snapping out of his hyperfocus on the history of timber in the Zemni Fields.

“Oh… ja.”

“Cool, so the owner will be here in a few minutes to let us in so we can have a look. She wants to sell the place as a package deal.”

Caleb had, in some ways, trained himself out of being too attached to places or most material things (with a few exceptions such as his spell components, spellbook, and the letters he had written to his parents). Unless there was something horrifically wrong inside, he didn’t care where Beauregard and Yasha wanted to live. It was practical that they live together, after all. Caleb had healed immensely this past year, but he was self-aware enough to understand he probably shouldn’t live alone. Of the Nein, Beauregard knew how to call him on his bullshit and Yasha understood him pretty well and knew he needed space sometimes, so it was a reasonable arrangement.

“I am really not picky, Beauregard.”

“Yeah, because you still don’t care enough about yourself to give a fuck about this. We know.” Beauregard looped her arm around his neck, dragging him down to her level so she could rub her knuckles across his scalp, ruining the two narrow braids Essek had worked from Caleb’s hairline to his messy ponytail that morning before they had parted ways beside the secret entrance to Aeor. Caleb talked himself out of getting upset with Beauregard over it. She couldn’t have known, and she was being affectionate like he really was her brother.

Once he was free, Yasha fixed the braids, and Caleb had to stop himself from crying again because she had noticed it bothered him and just… fixed it without making it a thing. Beau straightened her expositor’s garb, clearing her throat.

“Sorry, dude.”

Caleb conjured a mage hand to tug on her ponytail. Beau swatted at it, but her hand went right through it. She gave him the finger. Yasha finished fixing the braids. Everything was normal again.

The owner, a half-elf woman with long blonde hair coiled into a bun that looked like a cinnamon scroll, arrived and immediately shook Caleb’s hand.

“Mr Widogast, a pleasure. These ladies have told me a lot about you. My name is Alphira Winterheart. I teach evocation at the Soltryce Academy.”

Caleb still felt a spike of anxiety when he heard the name of that place. At this point it was ingrained, even if he held out a small amount of hope he would get to teach there one day. It would be easier to fight corruption if he had some say over what the Academy put into those children’s heads.

“A pleasure,” Caleb replied, a little flatter than he had intended. He mentally shook himself, remembering to actually grip her hand for a proper handshake. “Evocation? I used to specialise in that area.”

“Ja, Ms Lionett told me you are now a Transmutation specialist but still frequently partake in the Evocation school in your travels. I’m glad to hear you intend to put down roots here in Rexxentrum. I would love to exchange theories over coffee.”

Beauregard smirked. Caleb remembered a conversation with Essek where they had agreed to return to Aeor and exchange theories. They had meant that literally. But it had indeed sounded like a euphemism to someone like Beauregard. Well, she hadn’t been wrong in the end, but certainly the intent at the time had been more about a meeting of minds than a meeting of…

Caleb concentrated on the conversation in front of him instead.

“Ja, I would enjoy that,” he replied. “What level of Evocation do you teach?”

“Oh, I teach the beginners.”

“And you live here in the Tangles?”

“I did,” said Alphira. “Archmage Beck has offered me lodging on her estate, so I am selling this house. It was always a little large for one person, and it seems you three could make better use of it than I did.” She leaned closer to Caleb, as if to tell him a secret. “The place on the left is where I prefer to experiment and study. I would recommend you look at that one in particular. The dormer is slightly larger. You could even put a teleportation circle up there if you were so inclined, given your need to travel.”

“Danke.” Caleb still felt a little weird about Rexxentrum mages not wanting to kill him, but he didn’t sense any untoward motives from this woman. She seemed genuinely friendly. “How… is the new Archmage settling in?”

“I have no complaints. She seems competent, if a little terrifying. I am uncertain if that is her past as a Volstrucker, or a necessity of the job. She has been nothing but kind to me, and I would certainly prefer to be her friend than her enemy.”

“Ja, we are familiar with her,” said Caleb.

“Caleb most of all,” said Yasha.

Beauregard had to turn away before she burst out laughing.

“We should look at the house,” Caleb said before the conversation could go anywhere strange. Gods, he missed Aeor already.

Alphira unlocked both front doors. They checked the one on the right first.

“This one has a larger living area,” said Alphira, leading them through the entrance. “I am offering the furniture as part of the sale. I have already taken everything I need.”

Beauregard threw herself onto the large couch in the centre of the room. “Yasha and I call dibs on this side of the house. Since you’re gonna spend so much time here with us anyway. We’re taking the larger living area.”

“Beauregard, we have already established that I do not mind.”

The floor underfoot was a pleasant hardwood, probably more oak, and a large rug occupied much of the space. They would have to purchase candles for the evening, but it was well-lit during the day. Caleb followed the women through each of the rooms on the ground floor on this side, largely going through the motions. The kitchen was equally large, and had a good oven for Yasha to practice baking. They would need to purchase a larger dining table.

There was one large bedroom upstairs and two smaller ones, alongside private areas for bathing and other such activities. This was where they found the door between the two houses. The top floor dormer was full of assorted furniture and household items Alphira didn’t need, but they would likely use. Beauregard and Yasha discussed the possibility of turning this into another bedroom for when they had friends over. Or perhaps converting one of the lower bedrooms into a workout space and using this as a replacement. Caleb did not need to contribute much to the conversation, aside from promising he would help move furniture with telekinesis.

Truth be told, Caleb was having a hard time concentrating on the whole thing. He hadn’t really had a home in a long time, and he could not wrangle his mind into understanding the change. The Xhorhaus had been easier to stomach, as nobody had expected to live there forever. But this? Putting down roots? Real , long-term roots?

Maybe Caleb had been homeless for too long. It was beyond his comprehension at this point. And maybe it frightened him a little. He could not afford to inspect those feelings, not right now.

He pulled himself together in time to inspect the other side of the building. His side. His house. Scheisse .

The living area was a little smaller, but could still easily welcome the Nein (just in rather cosy quarters). The kitchen, also smaller but still respectable--a little larger than his childhood home in Blumenthal. There was less furniture on this side; Alphira had evidently used this side more and therefore had more furniture to take. There were two bedrooms on the second floor, one slightly larger than the other. Caleb found himself thinking that he would probably take the larger one just so there was enough room when Essek was over, or maybe he would take the smaller one so Veth could bring her family with her. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do.

And then they visited the dormer. It was indeed larger than the other one. There was a table in front of the window, with a few dark ink stains, and plenty of floorspace to spread out notes or create a teleportation circle. A few chairs were stacked in the corner, seemingly in good condition, and one wall was lined with empty shelves.

Caleb had always been partial to a tower, and this was pretty close. It would make a great study.

He was genuinely excited over a house. In Rexxentrum. A short journey from where his childhood home once stood. He was going to hyperventilate if he thought about this too hard.

“There are already plenty of shelves in my new house,” Alphira said. “These are all yours.”

Caleb nodded slowly, pulling his mind back into his skull. “Wundervoll, danke.” He took a calming breath. “This is a nice place, Professor.”

Alphira smiled. “Yes, I did not make nearly enough use out of it. But I hear you three have a lot of friends from out of town.”

“Ja, we do not see them enough.”

“Perhaps you will see them more once you have a place to welcome them.” Alphira led them back downstairs, and into the other side of the house where they could sit around the small dining table. Alphira already had the paperwork they needed to sign; Caleb got the impression Beau and Yasha had already decided to buy the house before they spoke to him about it. He was glad the decision was out of his hands.

He signed the paperwork, using both his legal name and the name he now wore (Alphira had apparently been briefed on this, and had consulted a contract lawyer on how to make it work on a binding document). Caleb had needed to sign various statements as part of Trent’s trial, so signing in Bren’s name was not as strange as he feared it would be. He was relieved. Beau and Yasha had insisted on finding a way that his new name would also be included, given he had not gone through any legal name-change process. The money Veth gave him more than covered his part of the cost. He needed to hug her. He needed to hug all of them.

Alphira gave them three copies of the contract and handed over the deed to the property. “I will head to the housing authority and file the paperwork immediately.” She slid the keys over the table to them. “Congratulations on your new home.”

She left. Caleb traced the shapes of the letters on his copy of the contract, over and over, letting reality sink in. He had a house. A house in Rexxentrum. A house in Rexxentrum with two of his best friends. It wasn’t at all what he imagined he would have when he was seventeen, when he thought he and Astrid and Wulf would one day have done their duty for the empire and settled down together.

But this was good. This was right .

He cried. Yasha was probably crying, too, but he couldn't see. The three of them hugged across the table, the edges jabbing their ribs.

[star-six7]

I Never Thought They’d Get Me Here

Ray Toro x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 3 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 1481

A/N: Yeah, I suck. I’m really sorry for the wait with this one, but I hope it was worth it :)

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

“Okay,” Brian said, turning around and stopping before entering the building. “I’m thinking we should split into pairs, just in case?”

“The buddy system, really?” Frank snorted. “This isn’t kindergarten, Brian.”

“I, for one, am in favor of this plan,” Gerard said, sounding nervous. Mikey moved to stand next to him without either of them saying anything.

“I’ll go with Ray. I feel like being paired up with the tallest one here is a good idea,” you stated boldly, smiling up at him. You had made up your mind on the way over. Today was the day you told Ray how you felt about him.

“Well,” Brian said glumly. “I guess someone needs to babysit Frank. Let’s go.”

Frank grinned, seemingly unoffended.

After the guides explained the rules and offered you the last chance to turn back, they brought you to the door that would lead you to what they claimed was “your worst nightmare.” You swallowed and moved next to Ray.

“Nervous?” he smiled at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You weren’t about to tell him it had less to do with the haunted house and more to do with the fact that you planned to tell him about your long-standing crush. Not yet, at least.

The last thing you saw before you were ushered into pitch blackness was an unreadable look on Ray’s face.

---

A few minutes later, you were shuffling down the path behind Gerard and Mikey with Ray by your side.

“This goddamn hallway,” Frank muttered up in the front, with Brian. “I have no idea if we’re even heading in the right direction.”

“It does feel like we’re going in circles,” Ray agreed. “Maybe we should split up and try and find the way to the next area.”

You heard Mikey and Gerard move off to your left while Frank and Brian pushed on to your right.

“Guess it’s just us now,” Ray said, somehow finding your hand in the dark. You were glad he couldn’t see you blushing.

“Yeah,” you whispered as your nerves skyrocketed. You cleared your throat. “Let’s try and beat them to the exit!”

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later, you were no closer than any of the others. Speaking of which-

“Ray, do you know where the others are? I haven’t heard them in a while.”

“Me either,” he sighed. “Oh, shit!”

“What’d you find?” You were ready to get out of the dark hallway.

“I think I found a crack in the wall,” he said, sounding like he was concentrating. “Hold on-”

The section of the wall he was pushing on gave way, and you stepped out into what seemed to be an indoor maze. You took in the fake ivy-covered walls while Ray closed the door behind him.

“Wouldn’t want the others to figure out our secret,” he said sheepishly when he noticed your questioning look. “Shall we?”

And for the second time that day, you were holding hands with Ray Toro.

---

As you wandered up and down the paths with Ray, you let yourself get lost in thought. You remembered the tall, shy (and cute!), guy that Gerard had practically dragged down the basement steps for the first time, barely a week after the band went from being an idea Gerard would call you about at two in the morning to something real. You shook your head at yourself when you thought about how nervous you had been about adding a new member. You had been worried that Ray wouldn’t fit in with the long-standing, easy-going friendship you had with Mikey and Gerard. But, Gerard was right. The band needed someone who could play live. And Ray was certainly one hell of a guitarist.

In hindsight, it should have been no surprise that you and Ray became fast friends. Not only were you both dedicated, passionate, and talented musicians, but you genuinely clicked on many other levels as well. You couldn’t even count the hours spent in the Way brothers’ basement, arguing the odds of surviving your favorite horror movie scenes or building your absolute dream bands consisting of your favorite musicians. It only made more sense that you began to fall for him around the time My Chem went into the studio for the first time. You remembered staying into the early hours of the morning, hanging out on Geoff’s couch together as you pored over the previous day’s takes, eventually falling asleep on each other until Gerard woke you up to complain about his tooth.

“I hope you’re not laughing at me, or you might not be able to find your duffle bag tonight.”

You hadn’t even realized the small smile forming on your face until Ray interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up at him and saw a grin on his face that told you he was only joking.

“Wait, why would I be laughing at you?”

“Because,” he said, sounding glum. “I think we’ve been going in circles for the past twenty minutes.”

“We’ll figure it- wait, did you say twenty minutes? There’s no way this place is that big. How long have we been in here?”

Ray glanced at his watch. “25 minutes, actually.”

You swore as you sat down. “You don’t think the others got out already, do you? I mean, they would come back for us, right?”

Ray laughed as he sat down next to you, leaning against the wall of the maze. “Frankie might try it, just for shits and giggles, but Brian wouldn’t let him.”

“Thank god for Schechter,” you agreed. The conversation lapsed into silence, and you decided now was as good a time as any to test the waters. “Hey, at least we’re stuck together, right?”

Ray shifted to face you, smiling. “That’s true, Gerard would be hyperventilating by now.”

“And Brian would smack us upside the heads for getting lost in the first place.” You laughed and then took a second to regain your composure. “But, if I’m being honest… there’s really another reason why I’m glad I’m with you. Even if we might die in this maze.”

You paused, studying Ray’s face for a reaction. You thought you saw a flicker of emotion, but you couldn’t be sure. Apparently, Ray’s poker face could rival Mikey’s.

When you could tell that he wasn’t going to say anything, you continued. “I think it’s kinda obvious but… you’re my best friend. And as much as I don’t want to change everything for the worse, I feel like I can’t really hide it anymore. Ray… I think I’m in love with you.”

What you were going to say next died in your throat when Ray surged forward to kiss you. Your perception of the world around you slowly melted away as all of your senses began to hyperfocus on Ray. You couldn’t help the faint sigh that escaped you as he shifted closer, wrapping one arm around your waist and resting his other hand on the side of your face. Almost involuntarily, you scooted backwards until your back was resting against the corner you had sat down in, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

It was at about that point that you heard a familiar (and at the moment, grating) voice yelling at you from several feet away.

“Holy shit! Brian, you can call off the search party! I found them, and they’re making out, ew!”

Ray pulled away from you the second Frank had made his presence known. Though he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, you could see a blush creeping up his cheeks. If the heat in your face was any indication, you were sure you looked similar.

“Shut up, Frank,” Brian said as he rounded the corner, rolling his eyes. He turned to you and Ray and sighed, smiling. “I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, Brian, are you gonna give them the ‘safe sex’ lecture? Scratch that, are you sure they know about the birds and the bees?” Frank said, and then laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Hey,” Ray said, scowling as he stood up. He offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet. “You better quiet down or I’ll make sure you never get shotgun again.”

“Okay, cut it out, assholes,” Brian cut in, though there was no real anger behind it. “We need to go find the others before Gerard goes into a catatonic state of shock.”

You half-listened to Ray and Frank bicker some more as you trailed behind them, unable to keep the smile off your face. It almost felt easier to breathe with your confession off your chest.

You had almost forgotten that you were still holding hands with Ray until he stopped suddenly, waiting to get a little distance from Frank and Brian.

“Hey,” he said, smiling down at you.

“Hey?”

“I forgot to tell you. I think I love you too.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to tell me what you liked and send in requests!

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Pandora’s Box, Brotherly Interlude

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(We’re back!!! And OH BOY HERE WE GO!!!! We’re only a few chapters from posting all of book 1 now, just two more updates after this one. I hope you enjoy this ~romantically spicy~ update!)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

19. Pandora’s Box

    Something felt off.

    It wasn’t the same sort of off that came with glowering at entitled individuals to get them to give Trinity some space or the kind that came with feeling like she was in danger. No, it wasn’t unpleasant like that. It was a gentle, floaty sort of feeling, something sort of like fondness that she just couldn’t put her finger on because she wasn’t quite sure she’d felt it before. Azure looked up at her friend, that feeling in the back of her mind trying to present itself but lacking the vocabulary and clarity to make any headway. He was talking to her, saying something in that soft voice he used when he didn’t want anyone else to hear them or he was trying to reassure her that she had no need to be nervous. It was such a soothing tone, she realized with a small start, that she hadn’t even been paying attention to what he was actually saying. Her cheeks flared red and she coughed a little, looking guilty. 

    “Sorry, I didn’t hear that. The music’s a little loud, what did you say?”

    “I said, dinner’s over. Care for a dance?”

    Trinity was standing next to her, his hand out in offering. He was always so polite, even after months of… whatever this was, asking before each dance as if she was going to say no and sit in awkward silence while the other couples swirled around them. It was like some sappy romance novel she’d devoured growing up-- the handsome prince asking “may I have this dance,” taking the princess’ arm, pulling out her chair for her… and she had to admit Trinity looked the part, in his perfectly tailored waistcoat. For some reason, Crim had gone strangely old-fashioned for tonight’s style-- Trinity even looked a bit like the illustrations in those old books, with his long coat and silver embroidery and hair shining a soft gold in the false candlelight dancing from wall sconces scattered about the hall. He smiled at her, hand still outstretched, something oddly… hopeful, in his expression. Or was she imagining it? She’d never turned down a dance with him before, there was really nothing to hope for.

    “Right, of course. I’d love to.” She smiled up at him, crooked and even a little bashful, and set her work-toughened hand in his larger, softer one. He helped her up out of her seat and she tried to keep her internal voice down as she quelled whatever this feeling was in her stomach that had begun the moment their hands touched. She stepped carefully with him out to the dance floor, goosebumps covering her skin as he placed his hand on her waist. Something strange was happening, and it was really weirding her out. Maybe the food was bad? That was doubtful, someone’s head would be on a pike if any of the people at this event even thought for a minute the food wasn’t made properly. That took out drinking too, because she hadn’t had anything that wasn’t water today due to some maintenance she had coming up soon. The mystery deepened, layers of what it couldn’t be peeling away.

She’d been staring at his jawline for a full thirty seconds now, and she had been flushed red nearly the last forty-five minutes they’d been here. She was beginning to look feverish. As they began the lazy, spinning journey across the ballroom they’d taken so many times before, he leaned towards her, his lips centimeters from the curve of her ear. His breath was warm, ghosting across her cheek as he whispered.

    “You alright?”

    She shivered and nearly stopped breathing, her head a jumbled mess and eyes wide. Was she alright? She had no idea. She wasn’t dying, so she was probably alright. Her head bobbed up and down and she looked in his eyes, deep and green and pretty. Trinity’s eyes had always been pretty, she’d known that, but she didn’t remember them being so pretty. Maybe it was the candlelight? In the back of her mind, the single brain cell that WASN’T occupied with trying to figure out when his eyes had gotten so green reminded the rest that he’d asked her a question, and nodding alone wasn’t really going to cut it for an answer. She looked startled.

    “Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a little warm, that’s all.” She’d always been a terrible liar, but she hoped against all hope he’d just take it at face value, just this once. She cast her eyes around the room, hoping to find something to talk about that wasn’t herself. Her eyes fell upon a couple in a dark corner, arms wrapped around each other and swaying off beat, smiling ear to ear and conversing quietly. She smiled and motioned with her head. “They look happy, ain’t that out of place here.”

    He followed her gaze, those eyes like a searchlight into her soul leaving her for a moment. His lips curled gently, a soft smile most people here wouldn’t believe was an expression in his repertoire. Sometimes even she couldn’t believe she got to see it. “I’m glad for them. You have to find happiness where it comes, in this kind of life, and too many of us forget how.”

    She nodded and smiled, humming her agreement as she looked back up at him. Then, a question surfaced, brought on by a conversation they’d had in a hallway a few months prior and the memory of a sad look in his eyes. Her brows knit together, and for a moment she was very concerned. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as her heart pounded. “...Are you happy?” 

    Trinity turned his gaze on her once more, his face distant as he seemed to consider. “Right now?” Those eyes came back into focus, and his smile once again lit up their tiny corner of the world. “Yes, I’d say I am.”

    A wave of relief washed over her to see him smile, and then a memory tickled at the back of her mind. She was ten, and her mother was signing divorce papers.

    “Mama,” She asked from her seat across the table, a pencil in hand, “What is love anyway? How are you supposed to know how it feels?”

    Her mother had sighed and turned over a page, looking up at her with sorrowful eyes. “Mija, love is what you call it when there’s nothing more important to you than knowing someone is happy.”

    A second wave, this one of realization, hit her like a train. All Trinity heard in their shared comm was a quiet little “...oh”, before her left foot tried to step where her right foot already was. Her ankle twisted out from beneath her, sending her nearly crashing to the floor.

    Before she could hit the ground, or really before it was even obvious she was falling, Trinity’s strong arms around her shifted and tightened. Suddenly, her hand was clasped in his, the other firmly on the small of her back, arched gracefully in a way she wouldn’t have thought she was capable of. He was holding her in a perfect dip, as if it had all been intentional. Of course, she would realize all of that later. For now, time was lost to the two of them, lost as they seemed to be in each other’s eyes. 

    Time outside their tiny bubble ticked on, of course, the sudden change noted by curious eyes all around the ballroom. Couples shifted in their dance steps, eyes met eyes in conspiratorial glances-- were they about to see a proposal tonight? Others couldn’t help but falter in shock at this never before seen side of Trinity Jericho, known to be icy on the best of days. How many of them, or their children, had he turned down only to be transformed into the sort of man who romantically dipped women on the dance floor by one brash southerner? Two pairs of eyes, on opposite sides of the room, turned away in unified frustration and disappointment. Perhaps it was too late for them-- each of the people they’d been longing for at a distance seemed now even farther away.

    But then the moment had passed, barely an instant to the two who had been locked within it, and Trinity smoothly swung Azure back up into his arms. Their steps resumed. Unsurprisingly, he seemed to have recovered from their little mishap more easily than she.

    “And here I thought we were past you tripping over your own feet,” he murmured, thinly veiled amusement evident in his tone. She tried and failed to come up with something witty to say back, her head so clearly somewhere far away from where they were. Her cheeks darkened, the rosy hue stretching to her ears and shoulders, and she wouldn’t, couldn’t hold his gaze. 

    “Sorry, I was thinkin’ about somethin’ else.”

    Whatever it was, he hadn’t noticed it in the comms. Either she’d gotten better at keeping thoughts to herself, or he’d been a little distracted too. No further explanation seemed forthcoming, though, and the last thing he wanted was to push her when she already seemed a little… off. He nodded, allowing her to brush the topic aside, and pulled her close as the music shifted into something slow and sweet. Very close. After all, he wouldn’t want her to trip again.

20. Brotherly Interlude

    Three hours, some cybernetic tinkering, and three cups of black coffee later, Azure finally felt like her heart wasn’t about to leap out of her throat, but now it was instead hanging low in the pit of her stomach. Once the delighted high of her realization faded, the guilt had set in. It felt wrong to care for Trinity, something forbidden and foreign stripping the joyous feeling down to something upsetting. The entire purpose of her presence at these stupid events had been to keep potential suitors and their pushy families out of his hair. It felt like a violation of his trust, to develop these feelings he was avoiding from others, and she had worked so hard to gain that trust in the first place. She cared about him, about his well being and his happiness, and she couldn’t see how not only making him reject her, but making him then go to these things alone again to avoid her was in any way helpful. He’d be back at square one, but with the added issue of the only person he could ask for help now being part of the problem. Sure, he’d told her the first time that it only had to be a one time thing, but then she’d asked to keep going, and now this looked like the world’s worst ulterior motive to deny other women access to him so she could isolate him and keep him all to herself. It was a horrible concept, and she hated herself for even bringing the possibility to light.

    And she wasn’t even a good match for him, all number crunching and heavy boots. He deserved someone light on their feet and pretty and kind, so kind, just like he was.

    She was sipping at the beginnings of mug number four and wondering how she’d ended up in this mess and how the hell she was going to get out of it when her brother, shirtless and with a fresh coat of blue developing in his hair, entered the room. Her shoulders stiffened and then purposefully slumped, trying to look normal. Crimson tossed her what she found out was a scone once she’d mindlessly taken a bite. 

    “Put a shirt on, dumbass.”

    “Aw get a grip, where am I gonna be comfortably shirtless if not with family?”

    “Weirdo.”

    “Nah, you.”

    She smiled mechanically and dipped the sandy dry baked good in her cup. Sweet, with a little bitterness from the coffee. Crim sat himself on the edge of her workbench table, thoughtfully and carefully dropping every crumb onto her workspace. He looked at her with a measured gaze that she knew was trying to tell her something that she just didn’t want to listen to right now. He cleared his throat.

    “How’d your date go?”

    “Wasn’t a date. Just a favor.” It was a lot harder to hide the strain in her voice that she couldn’t get a lid on when it was her brother she was talking to. She didn’t want to want it to be a date, it’s messy and that meant it wasn’t going to be easy to solve and she hated things that weren’t easy to solve. Except she did want it to be a date. Really badly, actually. Which again, was the problem in the first place. She pulled on a wrench a little too hard and it went flying across the lab. Crim ducked and winced.

    “The eightieth favor, and ya came back redder’n a summer sunset.” Her beloved brother ignored it, like the loving family member he was. Look at him, pressing the initial issue. She wondered if she was like this to him when he got weird and locked himself in his little studio to do mountains of paperwork alone in between four minute naps and four AM meals with Perry. Maybe she should be nicer to him. He was all she had at the end of the day after all, it was just such a shame he was such a little shit. She brushed a few crumbs off her table.

    “Listen, ain’t my fault the rich and influential like blowin’ money just to gossip like they could at a knittin’ circle.”

    “You don’t have to go, you know. I know you hate these things, and any man worth his salt would tell ya you’re free to stay home.” He took another bite of his scone and avoided her eyes, like he knew the contact would make her jumpy and defensive. He was right of course, about men and the eye contact, but then she was already jumpy and defensive, so what was he doing other than mitigating damage like he always did for her. What a good twin.

    She hesitated a moment before responding. She definitely did hate the events, with the overdone glamour and the careful answers to thinly veiled questions about motive and expertise. It was like playing a game no one would tell her all the rules of. She was horrible at games, and she was even worse at talking to people when she knew they wanted to rip her apart. But she didn’t really have to, Trinity had her back, every step she took.

    “I know, but he’s alright, and he needs my help.”

    Her brother shifted to stop leaning on her desk and grabbed the small hand broom she kept nearby to start sweeping bits of scone off her table. She realized with disgust that he’d just been eating it dry. She held out her mug. He leveled her with a look as he sipped it. 

    “Your taste in hot beverages needs help.”

    “Not my fault you need forty packets of sugar minimum to power your ability to breathe.”

    For the first time in longer than she’d want to admit, she watched her brother laugh and try to force down some hot bean water in his least favorite form.

    “Touché.”

    “Backwater hick, speak Terran-English like you were meant to.” She smiled as she took her mug back and dunked into it one more time. She had hoped maybe the joke would change the subject, but damn if stubbornness didn’t run deep in the family. Crimson skipped right back to the topic originally at hand.

    “Azzy, you know that it’s a little outta character for you to keep doin’ somethin’ you don’t like when you don’t have to. What’s goin’ on? He blackmailin’ you? The dick’s bomb and you don’t wanna share, what is it?” He threw the joke in to keep the mood light, and she knew that, but she choked a little on her oversaturated scone anyway. Her brother, ever observant, laughed again, and she’d be happy to see him happy if it wasn’t at her expense. “Oh Azure, you dun caught the bug, huh?” He was still laughing as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and decided it was best to take his leave while he still had the last word. “Good luck with that, Kari. You’ll need it with a man like that, I’m sure.”

    She couldn’t formulate a response in time, so she drained the rest of her coffee and returned to her work, ears burning.

[detectivedreameater]

Hospital Tripping || Queenie and Marley

TIMING: Beginning of the year PARTIES: @drqueenieking and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Queenie sneaks Marley into the hospital to run some overdue tests. Results are a mixed bag. CONTENT: Head Injury discussions (including symptoms and after effects) 

Marley hated hospitals. And not just because her blood was blue and her DNA wasn’t human-- but because of what they meant. Because of the atmosphere. Everything was painful. The bright, fluorescent lights, the depressed looks on everyone’s faces, the tired looking nurses and doctors shambling around as if they, too, were just part of the decor. Marley shivered as she followed close behind Queenie. At night, the halls were nearly empty and only far off noises of groaning patients and beeping heart monitors filled the silence. It was a veritable horror setting, if Marley was being honest. “Are we there yet?” she asked in a hushed voice, “I don’t like this place.” They turned down another hallway and a chill ran up her spine. She shuffled closer to Queenie. There was something so familiar about this hallway, a memory trying to grasp at the back of her eyes. She blinked and suddenly a gurney was being rushed by her. She froze, stepped out of the way, but when she looked back, there was nothing there. “I-- did you see that?” she asked, her voice wavering just a touch. She looked wide-eyed at Queenie-- not that she could see behind the glasses-- and swallowed. “Never mind...let’s just get this over with. I hate this place.”

Queenie wouldn’t claim that she knew much about Marley, but she knew that something was off about the way she was acting. The woman seemed almost paranoid while following Queenie down the halls of the hospital. It wasn’t as if any of the doctors or nurses could see the blue blood that she was so passionate about keeping secret. Not unless she managed to accidentally back into a scalpel or something highly improbable like that. So what was causing this hyperfocus and jumpy attitude? “Not much further. I wanted a room that didn’t see much passing activity.” Queenie explained, barely looking back at Marley as she led the way past the hospital staff “See what?” Queenie paused, turning back and glancing at Marley wearily. She craned her neck, looking in different directions to try to pick out what it might have been that had Marley so on edge. But she had been quick to brush it off, and Queenie was happy to oblige.” Fine. This won’t take too long. I made sure I had everything covered today so I wouldn’t be distracted.” Rounding one last corner, Queenie opened the door to make sure nobody else had taken her room. “What makes you hate hospitals so much anyway?” Queenie asked curiously as she motioned Marley inside the room and shut the door behind them. 

Queenie made her way through the hospital’s winding hallways, as if she owned the place-- but then again, she basically did. She had a commanding presence here that Marley had picked out in their first meeting, way back when. It was something Marley was thankful for in this moment, as she watched nurses and even other doctors move out of her way as if she were parting the sea. She slipped into the room behind her, glancing around once to make sure no one was watching, before pausing just in the doorway. There was a large machine in the middle, as well as some computers, and a side room, walled off. She started fidgeting slightly. “It’s personal,” she muttered, trying not to let the memories that made places like this feel like a prison cloud her mind. She shook them away. “What tests are you running, then? What uh-- what exactly are you looking for?” She was almost afraid to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her, as it usually did.

“Fair enough” Queenie answered simply, as a way of accepting that she wasn’t getting an answer and showing to Marley that she didn’t need one. Her disdain for hospitals was her own personal business. And while Queenie found herself in the middle of Marley’s personal life more by necessity than choice, she wasn’t on the level where she would concern herself with prying any further. “An MRI for starters. I want to get a look at the brain and to see if there is any permanent physical damage that we can’t see on the surface. I’ll need you to change into that hospital gown. Make sure you have no metal on you and then let me know when you’re ready. I’ll come in to get everything set up.” Queenie stayed on the other side of the glass, making sure the screens were set up and ready to begin just as she had requested. Perhaps it was out of place for her to ask for the room to herself for the test. But honestly, would anyone question her at this point? “Call me when you’re done.”

Marley looked down at the hospital gown she’d been handed in disdain, then back to Queenie, who was already retreating from the room. She hated everything about what was happening. Just being in the hospital alone made her skin crawl, but now she was around humming machines and a giant tube and suddenly the room was getting smaller and her throat was getting tighter. But the world snapped back into view when Queenie’s voice cut through her head and she looked over at her, nodding. She went to the corner where the screen was and changed quickly, going back out, arms folded tightly across her chest, hands tucked into armpits as she shivered slightly. “I’m done,” she called out, glancing around as a shiver went through her. In the corner of the room stood a ghostly, familiar figure. She blinked and he was gone. She’d seen him before, hadn’t she? But from where? Eyes so focused on the corner, on trying to remember the man, she didn’t notice Queenie come back in, jumping when her voice sounded again. 

Queenie kept herself busy in the room staring at the monitors to keep herself distracted while Marley changed.She didn’t head back into the room until she heard the woman call out, but by the time Queenie got back in, Marley seemed more distant than ever. She had known Marley for long enough now that she could tell that this was uncharacteristic of the woman. She had no interest in attempting to pry information from the police officer. Especially since she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere by asking. But whatever caused this disdain for hospitals that Marley singularly described as ‘personal’, seemed like quite the baggage. “Well then,” was all Queenie said in response to the woman jumping at the sound of Queenie’s voice. She let out a quick cough to stifle the awkward air of the room before pointing at the bed in the middle of the scanner. “It’s not a particularly pleasant experience, but it won’t be painful. It’s just uncomfortable.” Hopefully Marley responded to direction better than some of the children and adults she had on this machine. “You will need to stay as still as you can while I run the test. You can lay on this bed here and I’ll adjust it.” After getting everything set up from this room, Queenie pointed towards the window, “I’ll leave you in here while I go to start up the machine and run the test. I’ll be able to hear you from there, and vise versa.”

“Right,” Marley repeated slowly, “just uncomfortable.” She looked at the table, then back to Queenie, and swallowed. Being back in a hospital gown, laying on a table. Being shoved into a small space. Marley felt her heartbeat begin to pump quickly, loudly in her ears. She shivered once and wrapped her arms around herself as Queenie began to exit the room again. She suddenly didn’t want to be alone. Not in this cold, stark room that reminded her so much of the place that took so much from her as a child. She looked over at Queenie one last time before climbing onto the table. Swallowed hard and laid down. Her arms suddenly began shaking and she clenched them hard to make it stop. “Ready whenever you are doc,” she said, a shake to her voice. “Let’s get this over with as fast as possible, yeah?”

Queenie could hear Marley give the okay and quickly came over the speaker to the machine, “You got it. Quick and easy.” Admittedly, the machine did not move nearly quick enough for that, but Queenie understood the discomfort. Even for people that weren’t bothered by hospitals didn’t like MRI’s. The machine was loud, claustrophobic and something about being told not to move made every inch of the face itch like crazy. She couldn’t count the number of children and even adults she would have to yell at multiple times to remind them that they needed to stay as still as possible. Still, Queenie tried to move things as quickly as she could. She rushed through the initial scan, moving through to readjust from time to time and begin a new scan. In Queenie’s mind, this was the fastest MRI she had ever completed. It probably didn’t feel that way for Marley. When she was confident she had what she needed, she came back over the speaker to the machine, a smug indignation evident in her voice, “Okay. That should do it. I’m going to get the results. You can get up. Be right back.”

Luckily, only Marley’s head needed to be inside the machine. It whirred loudly and she flinched whenever it began, but eventually her raging heartbeat would drown out the noise. She could feel the panic rising in her throat again, clenching at her lungs, making it hard to breath. She hated this place. She really hated this place. And it dragged on for what seemed like hours, but surely was no more than half an hour. By the time Queenie came back over the speaker, Marley was sweating and shivering all at once, as she held in her want to panic. When she sat up, she felt dizzy and the world spun around her. For a moment, the world went black. She saw what looked like a river flash behind her eyes. Eerie looking trees. A gateway up ahead. A man leading her somewhere. Marley shook her head roughly and blinked the world back into existence. She glanced around her, then back over to the doorway Queenie had disappeared into. That place...she’d thought it was just in her imagination. But now she’d seen it again and it felt...like a memory. Like it was real. Marley perked up when Queenie came back in, her heart beat beginning to thrum loudly again as well. Whatever the results were, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know anymore. When she didn’t know, it was easier to think that one day, it would just go away. But Queenie’s face somehow told her that wasn’t the case. As stoic as the good doctor liked to pretend she was, Marley could tell what was on those scans wasn’t a good result.

Queenie had really been hoping for everything to be completely clear. Of course so that she could give Marley the all clear and perhaps neither of them would have to worry about giving the other headaches any longer. Though beyond that, Queenie could admit she didn’t hate the woman. They weren’t exactly friends, but they had developed a partnership together. She had hoped for the best either way. What the scans showed definitely were not the best case scenario. “I’ve got the results,” Queenie stated matter-of-factly. She led Marley back into the room she had booked, a place where the two could sit and look at the results. She put the scans against the wall, clipping them behind the light to help them be more visible. “I’m showing signs of some damage.” She wanted to avoid being too brash with the revelation without coddling the woman either. Queenie was no good at coddling, and Marley didn’t seem like the type that would want it anyhow. “Different lesions around the brain. It looks like the hippocampus, and the prefrontal cortex as well. See?” She pointed at each area as she described them. The wounds themselves weren’t fatal. Marley standing in front of her was proof enough of that. But they could certainly have additional effects that either hadn’t begun yet or that Marley didn’t even notice. “It’s not life ending, but it means that there could be further complications we weren’t originally aware of. Have you had any other symptoms recently post accidents that are new to you?

Marley stopped listening the moment Queenie told her there were signs of damage. The rest of the conversation was just droning in her ears. She was pointing at stuff on the image of Marley’s brain, but Marley couldn’t concentrate. Was that symptom or was that just her own brain tricking her? She couldn’t tell the difference anymore. The world snapped back to her when Queenie posed a question, and Marley looked at her with sullen eyes, a pain that ran so deep she wasn’t sure it would ever go away. “I, uh-- yeah. Concentrating and...losing track of time.” She paused, feeling her natural instinct to hide herself away and close off anyone who tried to get close, who tried to help. But Erin’s words rang in her head and she was reminded that, if she did not let people help, she was going to get herself killed. So she swallowed, and added on, “And I think I’ve been having seizures.”

It wasn’t hard for Queenie to deliver bad news to people. She never enjoyed it, even disliked doing it for a long time. She had never been especially talented at reading people. She rarely had any tact when speaking with patients. To top it off, it was simply uncomfortable to be standing in the same room as them once the news had been broken. But over time, she had learned to separate herself from it. She had practically mastered dissociating after reading the charts and could stand unmoving and completely solemn as the person or family worked through whatever emotions they needed to. Her apparent lack of empathy didn’t always make her popular with her patients. But she had never been in this to be popular. She couldn’t care less how they felt about her as long as they continued breathing once they left the hospital. But this one, for whatever reason, felt a bit more personal. “Those are both common. The injury was still relatively recent. With time you may see a decrease in those symptoms.” She wasn’t sure that Marley grasped much of what she had been saying at all, but she pulled the photos from the wall and stacked them together, sticking them in a file named after the detective. “I see.” Queenie spoke simply. Seizures were a bit more intense than losing track of time or being unfocused. It wasn’t what Queenie wanted to hear at all. “Well, that is something that we could look into as well. There is medication that could help with that. I’m glad you decided to tell me, actually. Getting in front of something like this is key to help future prevention.” That was the truth, even if it was a more positive approach than Queenie usually gave. “How are you feeling about this news?”

With time. That was always the answer, wasn’t it. It would feel better, with time. It will go away, with time. It will heal, with time. Marley blinked and looked over at Queenie, wondering what it was she could say to make any of this feel better, be better, because those words weren’t reassuring at all. For weeks, she’d been able to hide in her own ignorance and pretend like this wasn’t something permanent, like this wasn’t something real. But she couldn’t do that anymore, not with Queenie looking at her like that and saying those things. It was real, now, and she couldn’t run from it anymore. How was she feeling? Fuck, she had no idea. Marley looked over at Queenie and swallowed. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I have no idea how I feel. How should I feel? I don’t know how to feel, I’ve never been through something like this.”

Queenie’s acquaintance took it about how she had expected her to. The news clearly bothered her though she remained more stoic than other patients would have given similar news. She was tougher than the average person, that was for sure. “I can’t tell you how to feel. They’re your emotions.” Folder still in her hand, she began pacing around the room. She would have to figure out how to get Maley medication without writing a prescription. Writing a prescription would leave a trail that she wasn’t sure Marley wanted left behind. “It’s not news that anybody wants to hear. But it’s not the worst case scenario. You can still work. You can still continue living your life. That doesn’t make the news any less unfortunate.”

The words sat in Marley’s head like a thick sludge. They’re your emotions. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Marley didn’t know her own emotions. For so long all she’d let herself feel was anger and pleasure. Anything else was too risky. Too dangerous. Getting attached, expressing her feelings, letting herself believe she was something beyond a monster-- it was all too dangerous. But now, she’d let herself believe she was better. Could be better. Could feel and laugh and love. Like one of those cheesy signs wine moms put up in their houses. But this? She hadn’t prepared herself for this, in any scenario. She’d always figured if she got into a fight like that, she wouldn’t make it out. But she had, and now, there was an empty void where her thoughts and feelings should have been. She looked over at Queenie with a defeated glance. “I’m no doctor, doc,” she said flatly, “but I doubt they’re gonna let someone with brain damage carry a firearm. Or go in the field.” She could work, but her duties would change, wouldn’t they? Her job would change. “Unfortunate,” she repeated the word quietly, before reaching down to grab her clothes. “Yeah, that’s the word for it. Unfortunate.” She was quiet for a while, and then-- “Can I go now? Is there more we need to do?”

As far as conversations go, this one seemed just about over. Queenie wasn’t sure what else could be said at this point. They both seemed to know the implications of the news. Marley must be feeling it more than anyone, but Queenie thought that she could relate. If something happened to her that made it impossible to do her own job, she had no idea what she would possibly do. She had devoted her entire life to her career. If she didn’t have this, she had nothing. What would she do? Take up sewing? Absolutely not. “Not right away. But we may be able to get you there. Eventually.” She couldn’t exactly say that it was entirely unrealistic. She had seen things like it before. Some might describe it as miracles, but Queenie never believed in that. Good medical care and perseverance were key. Queenie knew that Marley had the former, but she had a feeling she had the latter as well. “Sure. No more tests today. I will be in touch regarding the medication.”

Eventually. Marley understood that most people used that word in a positive context, but whenever someone said it, it always seemed so...negative. Eventually the pain will go away. Eventually you’ll get better. Eventually you’ll be normal again. And to no one’s surprise, Marley was beginning to hate the word. She shrugged on her jacket and gave Queenie a hollow look. “Thanks,” she said quietly, the defeat evident in her voice. Even if one day she did get better and could get her full job back, that day wasn’t today. And she couldn’t help but let that heavy burden sit on her shoulders like a rock. It slouched her back and hung her head and she stopped in the doorway. “No more hospitals,” she muttered, before she pushed out the doors and started to make her way through the hallowed building once again, craving the fresh air and ready to wash the scent of sterility off of her. 

[dabis-certified-panda]

Living Has Its Quirks

A birthday piece for @bakugf, I hope you enjoy it!

Tags: depression and anxiety, hurt and comfort

Words: 2,309

You couldn't begin to tell someone what kind of week you were having. Hell-weeks. 

That fact didn't matter because as it were, being around others allowed you to shut off your issues for the moment in time and focus on them. The hyperfocus was nice in the moment, but it was when you were alone that things blurred and the barely concealed hell made the edges of your vision grey. Red pulses of too much straining your eyes. Thoughts running like a madman and worthless sealing your throat closed. 

You distinctly remember shutting all of this off for a numb paradise the past few weeks...but that function failed you today as you stared at the wall across from you, comforter over your legs and pillows supporting your back doing little to comfort you. If it wouldn't alert the person next door you'd throw something at the blankness staring back at you.

Your quirk was a tangible thing under your skin and you consciously had to tamp it down. Tears burned behind your eyes, tears you refused to let loose as you curled around the pillow that smelled of caramel, the cooling pillow behind you a nice substitute for what you refused to indulge in right now. Something you weren't worthy of indulging in-

You felt the explosion more than you heard it - a rather familiar one and your body jerked in shock. 

"FUCK!" 

Eyes widening, worry laced through your veins. This explosion wasn't like his frustrated, mini blasts - as mini as they could get. This was one that was going to require damage control and you couldn't deny the part of you that ached to jump at the opportunity even if you didn't know what had started it. 

Shouto is more capable of handling him. Deku is probably already there too. They don't need me to calm him. 

He doesn’t need me.

Especially since you heard doors opening and closing from down the hall. 

The music in your ears increases in volume as you try to drown the chaos out. It works better than you'd like to admit. 

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip but you barely register the pain. Giving in to the pounding of your head, you let the tears fall, the scorching trails leading to the cold pillow Shouto bought you when he found out you missed him more than he thought. Your arms shakily reach out to wrap selfishly around the pillow Katsuki shoved at you in hopes of getting his hoodie back - an action that failed of course as you were wearing it at this moment along with the sweatpants you stole from Shouto's dresser. To this day he hadn't asked about them and you weren't about to bring it up. 

A rough knock on the door broke through the music jammed into your ears. Jerking up as if electrocuted, you quickly wipe your tears with the blanket and take a deep inhale to steady your voice as you shout, "Coming!"

Climbing down from the top bunk of your bed (an addition you asked for that Katsuki never fails to tease you about) you open the door to find a slightly frantic Kirishima. His eyes are wide, hair down from a recent shower and he keeps glancing sideways to the kitchen. 

"He's gone off the deep end and I know you’re probably busy but you gotta talk him down!" The tone in his voice escalates your worry further. In the next moment you're jogging into the kitchen to a sight you'd take a picture of if it were any other day. 

Katsuki is wearing an apron, his eyes are wild in frustration and anger, hair a fried mess from the explosion. Speaking of...the cabinets have ash practically painted on them, the edges splintering off. The floor is littered with pieces of the broken tiles that stem from the front of the stove. The stove is in good condition, the pot resting on the back burner - not so much. The wooden spoon has singed into the pot, what looks to be a stew or soup splattered on the walls. The light on the ceiling broken and shards scattered amongst the rubble of tile. 

The whole scene makes for great blackmail material, but the state he is still in even after he released his frustration is one you don't see often. His veins and muscles are still tense, even as Deku and Kaminari stand a few feet away trying to calm him down. 

They're only making it worse. Without hesitation you step forward and walk through the others who have gathered and stand just behind Kaminari. 

All movement stops when Katsuki lays eyes on you. You never feel so examined as when his eyes are on you, not even Shouto can look through you like Katsuki can. It's one reason you fell for him to begin with. His chest still heaves, his arms remaining tense as a tightrope. 

But with the look over he's giving you, you know he can tell immediately why it took you so long to be known. He knows what's been eating at you for the past few weeks. He knows why your stomach has been hurting and why you haven't asked to hang out with either him nor Shouto. 

And suddenly his reasoning for making this stupid, fucking stew he knows you miss from home...was really not fucking it. It wasn't what you needed nor wanted. 

You blink and it knocks him from his trance. Noticing he gathered all of Class 1-A rubs him raw and he shouts "THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL LOOKING AT?!" His voice has the slightest rasp that shows more than many would notice. 

The others trickle out, but you don’t pay them mind, too preoccupied trying to discern what could have your boyfriend respond in this manner. There’s the slightest tremor in his left wrist that quickly tells you which hand was used and the toll it took on his body. The twitches cause your eyes to narrow in on his face, glowing rubies settled on you. 

A blast at this strength never would’ve affected him enough to cause strain in his wrist - no, this is the product of training too much in the arena. Something you’d railed into him day after day. You have to take better care of yourself or you’ll never become the Number One Hero. 

He pays no heed to the accusation in your eyes, he merely closes the distance between you and an arm is slid around your waist, the wrist resting on your side now barely trembling. 

You’re close enough to notice the change in his eyes, a shift no one else aside from you and Shouto are ever privy to. Immediately you try to open your mouth - to dispel the words you know are about to leave his mouth. 

It’s then that you taste the air of the burned soup. Your eyes water when you realize what he was making and why he would make it. Instead of dismissing his thoughts, you exhale shakily with a, “You r-emembered..” The telltale break in your voice seals the last of your self control and tears are flowing freely. 

You drop your head to his chest, the scent you’d grown so familiar with now a source of safety - a haven of sorts. Your sobs are muffled as you feel fingers weave through your hair to pull you closer, a chin nestling into your curls. You can’t focus on words enough to explain yourself, to even begin damage control here. 

But damn if you aren’t gripping onto the back of his shirt like a lifeline. 

He starts humming, a soft, jagged thing that you’d fallen head over heels for as soon as he began doing it thinking you were asleep. There’s another distinct scent that begins to rise over the others, one that you never thought would begin to calm you and yet here the three of you are: you in Katsuki’s arms and Shouto creating an ice barrier at the end of the hall to block off sounds that might be made - to give you the privacy you need to release your emotions. 

His steps were always silent to everyone else, his presence a quiet thing that you seemed to have a knack for sensing. This was no different as he came over to lean against the counter next to you. You couldn’t bear to leave the arms wrapped around you - wouldn’t dare be more selfish than you were now accepting affection at all. 

“You guys deserve better…” You choke out as you bury your face further into Katsuki’s chest. The arms around you tense for a moment, but they merely slide down to scoop you up and rest you on the counter next to Shouto, forcing you to pull away from his chest. 

The fingers at your chin guide your gaze up to blazing rubies. “I decide what I deserve. Don’t go around making fucking decisions for me, dumbass. If I decide I deserve you, then I deserve you.” 

You shake your head, silently begging him to understand. “You should have someone who doesn’t worry you…” He doesn’t miss the way you look to the stove and floor as he gathers what you leave unsaid. 

“Look, teddybear,” He pulls your attention back to him and blinking, you clear out the tears that blur your vision. “Daddy Issues over here worries me.”

“Mommy Issues over here worries me.” It’s the first time Shouto has spoken and it almost makes you smile at their banter even now. 

“But I bet your dumbass is thinking you’re more trouble than he is, that you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” The slight widening of your eyes and cut off hitch of breath is all the confirmation he needs to continue. “But you’re worth more than this bullshit self depreciation. Do you think anyone else in your shoes would’ve made it this far? Hell, would have made it to the Hero Academy? Fuck no, but you did.”

You open your mouth to contradict that, that it was a barely passed test that placed you here and a meager point that put you in Class 1-A. 

His fingers tighten on your chin and jaw, eyes thinning. “You gonna tell me I’m fucking wrong?” Your eyes hold the fight you can’t voice. 

“Baby, do you see the improvement you’ve made the past year?” All attention goes to Shouto as heterochromia meet your gaze. He steps closer, sliding the back of his hand along your jaw as his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. His eyes soften when you can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. “I remember when I first met you. Wide eyes with dark circles, a smile you wanted to show off, and soft spoken with a distance from touch.” His smile grows as he leans forward to press cold lips against your forehead. “But look at you now…” He murmurs before pulling back. 

It had taken quite some time for him to smile more around the two of you, and you can vividly remember each and every one of his smiles as he became more comfortable giving them. You feel your heart swell as you look between the two of them, recalling how long it took for Katsuki to accept physical affection and even longer to ask for it. The three of you had grown hand in hand since you stepped through the gates of the academy. 

There’s a tremor against your thigh and you glance down to the scared wrist. Gently wrapping a shaky hand under his forearm, you lift the wrist up to your face and press a kiss to the strain. There’s a jerk for a moment, just a slight movement before his hand curves against your face, fingers delving into your hair as his mouth parts in shock. 

“You should...really...take a break...every now and then…” You murmur between kisses to his wrist. 

His nails scritch against your scalp as he looks away and gripes out, “I’m fine.” The look you give him is more than words could account for, but you consider this an argument for another day and it appears Shouto is under the same idea as he slides behind you on the counter to wrap his arms around your waist. Leaning against his chest you press a light kiss to his cheek, a gesture that paints his face in a soft pink and leaves you smiling. 

“Oiiii, where’s mine at, dumbass.” You can’t help but scoff at the coated demand before you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, if only to hear the small noise in the back of his throat. 

“With interest,” You offer as you pull back. 

You can’t deny the three of you have made progress over the past two years, and some progress wouldn’t have been made without you, despite the lingering voice in the back of your head. You have to admit, the bodies surrounding you make it a lot easier to deny it. 

“Ow!!” Jumping, the three of you look to the ice barrier at the hallway and Shouto lifts a hand to melt the makeshift wall, revealing a fascinated Kirishima as he stares wide-eyed. “Whoa! Who knew my hardening quirk wouldn’t break Todoroki-kun’s ice!” Denki stands next to Kirishima, ecstatically glancing between the melted wall and Shouto.

“Quick, Todoroki-kun, make another one so I can try!” 

Mina and Jirou are kneeling behind the others laughing as they try to breathe. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Kaminari-kun…” Uraraka helpfully supplies. 

“Did you guys even pay attention in physics?” Jirou wheezes out between laughter fits. 

You have to admit, living to this point has its quirks. 

[dumb-hat]

Prompt #08: “Clamor” - FFXIV Write 2020

The problem wasn’t that Evander couldn’t still. Actually, if anything, usually the problem was that he couldn’t stop sitting still. Whatever it was that just made people get up and do things, Evander didn’t have it. Other people could just decide to do something, like clean or run errands, but for Evander, it often felt like some terrible inertia just kept him rooted—if he felt anything at all. Hell, it could even be something he wanted to do, something he’d been looking forward to for days, but switching gears to take on the new task wasn’t just daunting. It felt impossible. He could think, he could talk to himself, he could mentally scream and shout about all the things he had to do until his head was just a tangled cacophony of misdirected motivation and undirected frustration, but sometimes, he just couldn’t do.

And then other times, something would grab him and just wouldn’t let go. He’d be lost, elbow-deep in the guts of some machine he bought from some shady goblin, for hours. Sometimes it felt like he wasn’t in control, like instead some wild and untamed spirit was forcing him to do something, endlessly and unthinking. Usually though, it just felt satisfying, and to be honest, things rarely felt satisfying. When he was like this, all neurons and pistons firing all at once on something that he often didn’t choose to focus on, when he was most active, was when he strangely felt most at rest.

It didn’t help that people could easily notice these two sides to him—inertia and locomotion, silence and clamor—but couldn’t reconcile them. “Just do the thing. It’s not that hard. Once it’s done, you can do whatever you want. Organize your screw collection later.” After all, deciding to do something was the easiest thing, right? It’s how you do literally everything: you realize something needs to be done, you decide to do it, you do it, it’s done.

So, really, sitting still wasn’t the problem. 

So, why was being locked up in a dungeon that bad? All he had to do was sit here and lose himself in whatever interesting minutiae he could find. How many bricks lined the walls of his cell? How many bars were on the grate above him? Could he recall the plot of the last novel he had read? Did he know how printing worked? What about bookbinding? He knew some people got into restoring old books, and that sounded interesting. Could he figure out how to do that right now, without any research? He could guess, and then maybe later he would be surprised to see how close or how far off he was from the actual process. Speaking of books, he was going to need to get a book on crab care. He had no idea how to take care of a crab! Did he need a tank or a cage? Should St. Barnabus free-roam? Or maybe he cou—

His mind ran like an engine attached to nothing. 

How long had he even been here? Realistically, it could have only been a few hours. It was early afternoon when he was attacked and “arrested,” and it was… sometime now. Night. Late night. How long had he been out? It couldn’t have been days, could it? That wouldn’t make sense. And besides, if it had been days, that wouldn’t count because he had only been conscious for a few hours. So, really, the mental anguish of solitary confinement and imprisonment only counted… for a few hours.

Great. Fuck. 

Time was another problem. Sometimes it felt like he existed outside of it. Whether he was idling mindlessly, at the mercy of directionless mental free-association, or in the grips of some unstoppable hyperfocus, it was nothing for him to lose hours of his day. If someone asked him how long something was going to take, his estimates could vary wildly. If it was something he had done, or something like something else he had done, something he had context for, his estimates would be pretty reliable—if he could stay engaged and on-task. Any distraction would throw things way off course. If it was something new and novel, even the best estimate was a crapshoot. It could take weeks or it could take minutes. How was he to know?

So how long had he been here? Weeks or minutes? He had no clue. He cou—

Something split the silence. Something like a distant rustling of keys, then the turning of a knob and the creaking of an opening door, several pairs of shuffling footsteps, and then finally, a voice.

“Lieutenant, release this man at once!” 

Evander stared at St. Barnabus for one long, suspenseful second as the raspy basso explained that one of the prisoner being held in this cell—Evander pointed to himself, mouthing the words “It’s me!” to St. Barnabus excitedly—was actually an undercover officer of some import who had been imprisoned by mistake. Another voice apologized effusively, only to be cut off so that the basso could utter another set of orders, this time to a third individual, who responded with a bored, affirmative, but there’s something about the footsteps that don’t quite match the performative listlessness behind the voice. 

The next thing he heard was the tremendous groan of the grate above him being opened, followed by the clattering of a chain ladder down the wall of the cell. Within moments, standing before him was a familiar sight: a beautiful heart-shaped face, pale as the moon, framed in hair black as the night that it calls home. The immaculately tailored Yellowjackets uniform she was wearing was a surprise, though. She flashed him a lazy half-smile and the most casual of nods Evander had ever seen. “Hey.”

He tried to match her composure and failed miserably. Something had grabbed him, and it wouldn’t let go.

<<Previous Prompt |Master Post| Next Prompt>>

((I’d be remiss if I didn’t tag my partners in crime here: @luck-and-larceny, @argentrenard and @kestrelvylbrand. This RP continues to be a blast!))

[strangestdrabbles]

Please Stay With Me

A/N: this was a ride to write and it ended up being longer than i thought it would be but i enjoyed writing it :o) 

Pairing: Young Bill Denbrough x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, blood, slight violence

Even surrounded by Bill, Eddie and Richie Y/N felt like the house was watching them as they walked through the front room, a sensation of panic akin to a dull throb aching in her temple; her bottom lip held tightly between her teeth while her arms were crossed to provide herself some semblance of comfort.

“Y-Y/N are y-you oka-ay?” Bill asked in a whisper, deciding to ignore Eddie and Richie’s banter to care for the girl that he was so utterly fond of. 

“Oh um y-yeah I’m fine.” Y/N replied in a soft voice, tucking some hair behind her ear while looking at Bill through her lashes. 

It was as if time had slowed down as Bill and Y/N looked at each other, everything else falling away as they took tentative steps closer towards each other but before they got too close Richie yelled out. 

“What the fuck?! WHAT THE FUCK?! It-It says I’m missing.” 

It was an experience of whiplash as Bill and Y/N were pulled out of the haze and back into reality, blinking  slowly before running to join the spectacle clad boy along with Eddie. The piece of paper in Richie’s hand was slightly crumpled due to the stress that he was putting on it, his yells mixed with the attempts from Bill and Eddie to calm him down Y/N had a good look at the paper now secure in her hands. It was like her stomach had fallen into nothing as the contents of the paper came into hyperfocus, a sick joke that had a numb buzzing sharp in her ears. 

“You-you’re not missing, Richie .” Bill said, his voice calm but Y/N could hear the undertone of fear.

“Police department, City of Derry. That’s my shirt. That’s my hair. That’s my face.” Richie spoke hysterically, Eddie’s hand resting on his lower arm in an attempt to ground the boy. 

“Calm down, this isn’t real.” Bill spoke loudly as Richie spoke over him. 

“That’s my name, that’s my age! That’s the date!”

The fear began to settle like a blanket over the four as Y/N and Eddie made eye contact, hands shaking as they were unsure of what to do to help. 

“It can’t be real, Richie!” Bill tried in a voice that was an attempt at being convincing.

“No, it says it. What the fuck!” Richie yelled, inconsolable through his rapid breathing.

“Am I missing? Am I gonna go missing?” 

“Calm down! Calm down!” Bill began in a voice that commanded authority, “Look at me, Richie! Look at me. That-That isn’t real. It’s playing tricks on you.” 

Y/N noticed that the house seemed to be listening and closing in on the terrified group, fear bleeding through her nerves and catching in her throat painfully before she turned and nodded in agreeance to Bill’s declaration; noticing how Richie and Eddie gravitated towards each other and in movements that were subtle, linked pinkies as Richie’s breathing slowed.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs.” 

An anxiousness settled in the air as the four made their way over to the stairs before beginning the ascent, Bill and Y/N in the front while Richie and Eddie stayed a few steps behind. The moment Y/N stepped onto the landing of the upper floor, a painful chill staggering up her spine causing her to physically shiver to grab onto Bill’s hand without realising; only when Richie wolf whistled and Eddie giggled behind his hand did Y/N let go, the pair blushing innocently while avoiding eye contact. 

It was then that something caught Y/N’s attention in her peripherals as the urge to follow pushed her legs forward, not noticing that she was straying away from the trio of boys until she called out for them to come have a look at what she had found, hearing nothing but the house settling in a way familiar to an exhale; her mind telling her to get back to Bill but when she tried the door the door knob wouldn’t turn enough to let her leave. 

“Oh Y/N, how naive can you be?” 

The voice sent a fearful shiver aching up her spine as she turned around quickly while biting her bottom lip, trying to blink away the tears that were collecting in the water lines of her eyes. 

“Bill! Bill! Please Bill! Help me please!” 

There was a silence where the heaviness of her begging hung in the air before the sound of Bill’s voice caught her attention, a flame of happiness lighting within her chest at the thought of being close to her crush but it was quickly extinguished as the words reached her. 

“Can w-we ju-just le-eave? I-I don’t c-c-care if she’s s-still here, if w-we leave h-her then w-we don’t h-have to keep p-preten-nding to l-like her.” 

“Why did we invite her to be a part of the Losers Club anyway? Seven was enough and we only need one girl. Y/N just annoys the shit out of me.” Richie’s voice carried, sounding harsh and almost wicked.

“It’s fucking disgusting in here, can we leave now? I’m gonna have an asthma attack soon. Richie stop that and move your ass. I can’t believe we agreed to go in with her. Like she knows I’m sick and if my mum finds out that I’ve been here I’m blaming her so let’s just leave her here.” 

It felt like a knife in the gut listening to Bill, Richie and Eddie speak about her as if she was a burden to the Losers Club, her hands shaking harshly as she brought them up to cover her mouth after the tears began; realising that her worst fears were being realised and the friends she held most dear along with the boy she had come to care about more than she could truly articulate hated her. She didn’t realise she had sat down against a wall with her legs against her chest until the sound of a malicious laugh brought her out of her spiralling thoughts, blinking and seeing Pennywise on the other side of the room drooling with a smile that froze her breath in her throat and fear in her bones. 

“Oh look silly little Y/N, a burden to her friends and nothing to the boy she likes.” 

His voice seemed to throb in her chest as he stepped forward in what seemed like slow motion but before she knew it he was on top of her, his left hand on her face while she continued to cry silently while occasionally sniffling as the sound of Bill, Richie and Eddie continuing to talk about how much everything had gotten worse since Y/N had become a part of the Losers Club; the colour around her and Pennywise melting away to grey as fear overwhelmed her. 

“Bill please help.”

--

It sounded far away when Bill heard it as if it were a carried echo in the dilapidated house, Eddie and Richie quick to catch each other’s eye before turning to Bill. 

“Where’s Y/N?” 

It was as if all the air had left his lungs as he turned around in a full circle as his stomach disintegrated as if he swallowed acid, a lump growing in his throat as a bubble of fear burst in his stomach and then he was moving; not waiting for the other two guys as he navigated through the halls while straining his ears. He heard it again as he made it to the top of the stairs, a faint call of his name that had his heart aching. 

“Y-Y/N w-where are y-you?” 

Eddie and Richie’s voices sounded far away as Bill peeked around doorways and pushed down the urge to jump at slight noises, fear clouding his peripherals but he did his best to push it aside and concentrate on finding Y/N; noticing that the house was changing in a way to confuse him. 

“Y-Y/N can y-you h-hear me? I’m go-going to f-find you I-I-I pro-pr-promise.” 

It was after hearing a cry of pain that Bill opened the closest door to his right on a whim and found a sight that caused his blood to run ice cold, Y/N’s eyes wide with fear as Pennywise loomed over her with a malicious grin; almost demonic. Richie and Eddie joined the pair a few moments later, a shuttering exhale of fear leaving the shorter boy’s lips while the glasses clad boy’s arms were wrapped around Eddie tightly. 

“Y/N oh my god! Y/N please fight back, you’re so strong. I know you can do it.” 

It was with strength that she didn’t know she had that allowed Y/N to hit the clown hard enough to have him stumble, promising to be back before raising his arm and slashing down so his clawed hand caught Y/N’s arm; the wound left behind was stomach churning and caused all the colour to drain from all Y/N could see as a numbness settled. 

She didn’t notice that the only person in the room was Bill as the other two left at the sound of voices, slowly blinking as blood flowed quickly from her wound. She could see his mouth moving as he removed his flannel shirt before applying it to the wound, giving Y/N something to focus on while the colour and sound came back into her surroundings. 

“Come on Y/N, c-can you h-h-hear me?”

Y/N nodded lethargically while pulling her injured arm into her lap and blinking slowly, smiling softly when Bill sat down behind her and positioned her between his legs with her head resting on his chest. The flannel had been tied in a way that was tight enough for it to stabilise the bleeding and not move while still being comfortable, a dizziness clutching her head and leaving her feeling out of sorts; giving her the courage to lean up and leave a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you Bill. You’re incredible and I’m so happy that I like you.” 

Bill was speechless while he played with Y/N’s hair for a moment before checking her arm, seeing that the blood was slowly seeping through the fabric so even though he didn’t want to move from the comfortable position he stood up before assisting Y/N into a standing position and helping her walk through the Neibolt house; her giggles echoing shallowly through the house as sunlight winked though boarded up windows. 

“Y-You know I-I-I like you too.” 

Y/N looked up at him through hooded eyes and he noticed once again that she held the galaxies in her irises, a warmth spreading through his chest along with his cheeks. 

“That’s good to know Bill, I’m so glad.”

[lynneshobbydomain]

Vengeance Chapter 9

((Thank you so much once again for the reblogs and for the likes. Have a small interlude as we progress into getting heavier topics. We’re close to the point of no return ya’ll. Thank you again so much @sinfulwonders for betaing this chapter for me and for sticking around with me. I know that I’m asking a lot of you, and I wasn’t expecting the story to take me on the whirlwind that it’s decided to go on. I’m glad I get to travel with you))

Rated: M

Summary:  Amateur Detective Shuichi Saihara knew that searching for the “Usual 16” wasn’t going to get him anywhere. The disappearances weren’t being tracked in any news outlet, and very few families even tried to come forward to ask for help, let alone to report them missing. Yet, Shuichi can’t shake off the feeling that there’s a reason behind the disappearances, and he’s close to the answer.He just didn’t realize that the answer was going to hit close to home, in more ways than one.

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Shuichi could feel his phone buzzing insistently in his pocket, threatening to numb his ass from all of the vibration as he could hear someone going off. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out to see that there was a texting conversation between the D.I.C.E members, which...baffled him. It was late at night, and most of them slept in the same house. If they were going to have a conversation, it would’ve been easier for them to just go down to the living room, turn on a T.V low and talk that way.

[ Shuffle: 《《o(≧◇≦)o》》Pancake Night! ]

“Oh.” Shuichi murmured to himself. He looked around his surroundings before he went up against the wall to get out of everyone else’s way if they were walking. The streets were still empty, and no one was out and about, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. 

Pancake night. It wasn’t a phrase he often saw since he was usually caught up in detective work. Aki didn’t usually go to them, but at the same time he didn’t know what her habits were at night. He knew how to tune out the smallest of sounds so that he could hyperfocus on whatever needed to be done. Whether it was cases or homework, or fighting on discord about whether or not his theories were correct or were false. 

He knew what it was and what it meant.

He waited on baited breath to see if anyone was going to answer it. He glanced at the clock on his phone and pursed his lips when he saw that it was nearing three in the morning. No one was going to be up at this time, were they?

[ Honor: I’m up. I’ll come. ]

[ Deuce: I’m supposed to be on bedrest, but I’ll come. ]

[ Solo: Count me in as well, I can’t sleep. ]

Shuichi inwardly debated. He was heading home, but the diner wasn’t too far away from where he was either. He didn’t have an excuse as to not going, besides that he was socially anxious. He hadn’t really spoken to Takahashi since the kidnapping as well. A sinking sensation bloomed in his stomach and the guilt immediately hit. He didn’t mean to ignore him. Especially since Kokichi was having him watch the games.

[ Matador: I can come...if you want me to ]

[ Shuffle: Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ ]

Shuichi’s lips curled into a small smile, knowing that was all the approval he was going to get from her. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and adjusted Aki’s bag. He might as well go ahead and get going to the diner, rather than heading home. As long as he has her stuff, it��ll be alright. Besides, if he went home and dropped it off, he doubted he would go back out again. 

The trains were already stopped for the night, and luckily Shuichi never minded walking anyway. The city was calmer when there were no people around. Easier to breathe in, easier to take in the sights like he was supposed to. The neon of the signs were blinding, bouncing off of the walls and reflecting off of asphalt, cars, and windows. There was a feeling of excitement, despite not being one for adventure or adrenaline. Shuichi supposed it was just how the city managed to ensnare people. 

The diner was on the corner of an intersection with a red roof and wide open windows. It was easy to peer in and see who was all in there, and what they were doing. He could see the D.I.C.E members already crowded around a booth, a place already waiting for him if he so chose to walk through the doors.

He wiped his hands against his pant legs, feeling them sweat and shake out of nerves. He adjusted his hat and walked in. The smell of bacon and pancake batter hit him hard enough to make his stomach growl, reminding him that it had been a long time since dinner that he ate anything. 

“Shuichi-chan-san!” Shuffle greeted widely and Shuichi immediately felt overdressed.

Everyone was in some sort of style of pajamas. Whether they were wearing a t-shirt with flannel, or an entire get up that was too cutesy for his taste, they didn’t seem to care or mind that they were in public. What was also a little funny was that everyone had some sort of bedhead to match. Shuffle’s hair was barely in her pigtails, the flyaway ends were all over the place. Shuichi knew his cowlick was bad, but it wasn’t being compared to Takahashi’s right side of his hair sticking up right and smashed. 

Out of all of them, Shuichi knew that he looked better dressed since he was still in his day clothes, and he was wearing a hat over his eyes. He walked over to the booth and slipped in, everyone scooting and adjusting so that he had plenty of space. He set the bag down and rested it against his feet so that he wouldn’t forget it when it was time to leave.

“We already ordered a double stack of pancakes, Saihara-kun.” Takahashi spoke, his voice low and drowsy. “So unless you want something else, you’re covered.”

“Ah uh thank you.” Shuichi pursed his lips together. “Um...are you okay, Fujiko-san?”

“I was just lonely.” Shuffle answered, though her voice didn’t match the smile. Everyone was giving her a look and her smile slipped off of her face. “I…”

“Pancake night.” Deuce said, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes. “Is a sacred hang out where we’re supposed to not be okay.”

Honor nodded firmly, leaning forward with his elbows resting against the table’s surface. He was eyeing Shuffle as though he could get her to talk by getting into her personal space. Shuichi watched as she shrunk. “So, what’s going on?”

“It’s just…” Shuffle thought for a moment and Shuichi wondered if it was going to be about Aki. Was it going to be about how much they all missed her? Shuichi wasn’t sure he could stick around for something like that. “Is anyone else worried about Ouma-sama-san?”

The silence fell hard and Shuichi felt lost. He spoke to Kokichi just the other day but...it had been a weird encounter now that he thought about it. Kokichi did like to have sex, it wasn’t that new. It was the way that it happened, it was how...weird the timing had been. Now that he thought about it, Loki signed off that day saying that he was going to go hang out with his boyfriend.

Shuichi looked around the table, each of them wearing a face of guilt and of thoughtfulness. Everyone was racking their minds about what Kokichi was going through, and how much he might’ve changed. Guilt started to gnaw at Shuichi’s stomach. He hadn’t been paying attention, if they were the ones to catch it first hand.

“Aki-chan’s disappearance hit him hard.” Deuce said after a moment. His words were careful, measured. He glanced over at Shuichi, and looked away. Shuichi couldn’t help but to feel cold. “I...get why.” 

“I feel like it doesn’t have anything to do with that though.” Shuffle frowned. “Like, I feel like he’s restless. Impatient. Like he’s waiting for something to happen and he has to wait for it to happen.”

“Powerless isn’t exactly Kokichi’s way of handling things.” Honor said slowly, “Just like it’s not ours.”

“It has something to do with the email, doesn’t it?” Takahashi asked, and everyone froze. Shuichi turned and looked over at him. Takahashi was playing around with the utensil wrapper, folding and re-folded it until it was starting to fall apart in his fingers. “I tried to track the I.P address, but...whoever’s behind it aren’t amateurs. I’m not that good of a hacker.”

“So he’s going to try a different route then…” Shuichi shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the thought. 

Takahashi could only shrug in response. 

“I’m not going to be surprised if he’s going to ask us to break in and enter a random building any time soon, but I am thinking about offering it first before he can come up with a plan.” Shuffle admitted. “We haven’t been hopping lately.”

“Hopping?” Shuichi echoed.

“Going from one abandoned building to the next. You came with us once. Chi-chan forced you to come, remember?” Shuffle asked, tilting his head.

It wasn’t like he was going to forget that moment any time soon. The nerves about going trespassing had nearly made him want to pass out all on it’s own. He wanted to impress Kokichi and show that he could be apart of something amazing, but he also wanted to tuck tail and run away as fast as he possibly could.

He was...kind of grateful that he had stayed. It was the first time he learned that D.I.C.E weren’t just pranksters, vandalizers and petty thieves. Shuffle and Trick showed off that they were called that for more than just the card theme. They knew how to break dance and it had been incredible to watch them tear the floor. 

It was the first time he watched Kokichi be the king that he always claimed to be. He had the highest vantage point. He usually was up on cabinets, he would find tables and stack a chair on it if he could. He would find a way up into the rafters, wherever he was going to be, he was high above everyone, just so he can make a grand entrance. 

He remembered when Kokichi jumped from the rafters in front of him. How Kokichi’s smile was sharp and wide, like a predator who found his prey. Shuichi had shrunk in his gaze, unable to meet it, but feeling the excitement in his heart, the butterflies in his stomach twisted and fluttered uncomfortably. 

D.I.C.E were comfortable in the night, hiding in the shadows. They ruled it comfortably, knowing the fastest routes to get out of any danger. Kokichi was smooth enough to talk their way out of any sort of danger, but he was also clever enough to have a few backup plans. Not all of them were told. Some of them were just made right on the spot and Shuichi felt weak just watching him work.

“It’s not going to be a good distraction, but it might help.” Deuce said slowly. “I mean, he has a lot on his plate, keeping me and Trick on the down low. I keep telling him that he doesn’t have to hide us, that our parents aren’t going to be looking, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. I heard him talking to you about it.”

Shuffle let out a low noise, “I’m just sad.” She said quietly and Shuichi could hear her kick the booth. “You know? I just...I don’t know what to do with Ouma-sama-san. I don’t know how to help with Chi-chan. I feel lost.”

“Just be you.” Honor said after a moment, and Shuichi nodded his agreement. There was really nothing that she could do. 

“I want to offer to look at those emails.” Shuffle admitted, “I want to...do something. I know that he’s watching something on the laptop. I see him sometimes in the living room, with the headphones on, just staring at the computer. Biting his thumb.”

“Offer to sit with him.” Honor advised, but Shuichi felt his heart sink. 

It was an idea if Kokichi wasn’t watching what he thought he was watching. “Uh,” Shuichi cleared his throat as all the attention was once more on him. He wanted to melt underneath the table and disappear for a week. “I-I think you should let him be. Offer him company  yeah, but don’t be surprised if he uh if he decides that he wants to be alone.”

“I guess that’s fair. It’s probably a coping mechanism.” Shuffle slumped. “I just...want to do something.”

No one knew how to respond to that. Shuichi felt sympathetic towards her. “We’ll get him out of the house.” Honor finally said gently, and the rest of D.I.C.E nodded. “We’ll get Saihara-kun to come with us too.”

“Ah uh why?!” Shuichi blinked, a little taken aback that he was suddenly thrown into this conversation. 

“Because you’re not doing well either.” Takahashi said bluntly, staring at Shuichi. “We don’t talk much at school, and perhaps that’s my fault, Saihara-kun. But lately you’ve been distant, not yourself. You usually get like that when you’re on a case, but you bounce back. This time, it feels like you're far away. Ouma-kun’s mentioned it to us before.”

Deuce’s voice immediately went shrill. “Shuichi-chan doesn’t love me anymore! He’s not affectionate like he used to be!” He looked at Shuichi. “Okay so I’m being a little overly dramatic. I know that he broke into your house and got all hot and heavy-”

“He’s not ashamed of showing off his scratches.” Takahashi explained as Shuichi felt his cheeks burn and flush down his neck. He could feel a cold sweat on his forehead and he adjusted his hat, trying to hide away from this conversation. Of course Kokichi wouldn’t be ashamed about their exploits. Hell, Aki’s made a dry comment or two when she caught a hickey.

“-But that is so beside the point. I think you two need to just...do something to get your mind off of things.” Deuce continued, as though Takahashi hadn’t said a word. “It’s not good for either of you to continue the way that you are. So come hopping with us. We’ll find a good building, we’ll have a party, it’ll be great.”

“Throw in some good music and a bunch of food and we got ourselves a deal.” Shuffle beamed. “Right, Shuichi-chan-san?!”

“I don’t really...I’m not…” Shuichi shook his head. “I’m not much of a party person, you guys know this.”

“So stick to the wall.” Deuce shrugged. “Stay in the shadows. Watch Ouma-kun be weird as hell and love him from afar. God knows he’s going to pull you out and do something with you when he thinks you’re being boring anyway.”

Shuffle grinned, “It’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be torture.” Shuichi sighed but he nodded his head, reluctantly. “Alright, I guess I’ll go. Only if he comes.”

“Sounds like a deal. Now how the hell are we going to convince Ouma-sama-san to do something crazy with us?” Shuffle mused. 

“We use Saihara-kun against him the same way Saihara-kun used Ouma-kun against us.” Deuce replied, as though he was saying “duh”.

Shuichi was never glad to see a stack of pancakes appear before them and have the conversation drop into a different conversation of where they should start to look for buildings, and what type of building they should go for.

Shuichi left Pancake Night with a top 3 weird list of abandoned buildings to look at.

                                                                X

The door was unlocked and Shuichi’s heart pounded in his chest as he slowly let the door creak open. The foyer was still dark, as well as the living room and the kitchen. He could hear soft snoring coming from down the hall and he knew that his aunt and uncle were still asleep. That being said, Shuichi was certain that he had locked the door behind him when he went out. He slipped his shoes off and adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. He locked the door behind him before going all the way in.

The morning light was starting to break through the horizon, pushing the shadows back into corners and lighting up the room in a golden light. He could hear the birds starting to wake up from their perch, and the traffic starting to gain speed and frequency outside. Noises to indicate that people were starting to wake up from their sleep. 

Shuichi threaded over towards the phone where the pad of paper was, and saw that his note had been ripped from the pad. Someone must have woken up in the middle of the night and saw that Shuichi had left the house. He hadn’t meant to leave for so long, but he did assure in his note that he had his phone on him. Worried, he quickly took it out from his pocket and checked to see if he missed anything. There weren’t any new calls nor were there any texts.

Maybe he had been careless, or maybe his aunt or his uncle had sleepily thought that Shuichi might’ve forgotten his keys and unlocked the door that way, but he wasn’t too certain about it. He crept towards his room and slowly pushed the door open, only to breathe a sigh of relief. 

Kokichi was sitting on his bed, holding a pillow against his stomach. He was fighting to keep his eyes open. He wore a light purple crop top and pink and lime green boxers. His clothes were strewn all over the floor, like normal. Shuichi noticed that there were a couple of days worth that were on his floor. He wouldn’t doubt that if he looked in the bathroom he would find a toothbrush and some of Kokichi’s toiletries.

His parents must be home. With Deuce and Trick taking up so much space in the house, Kokichi must have decided to just stick with going to him and staying the weekend. He didn’t doubt that he might bounce around and go to Takahashi’s place as well since Takahashi rarely lived with his parents. “Hey beloved.” Kokichi murmured sleepily. “How was Pancake Night?”

“Stressful.” Shuichi answered as he carefully set the backpack in his chair. He walked over towards his closet and started to get ready for bed, feeling fatigue roll over his body like a heavy blanket, trying to coax him to sleep. “What are you doing here?”

“Came over to bother you, saw you were gone. Saw that you went to Pancake Night.” Kokcihi replied, his voice sorophific and inviting. 

Shuichi felt his lips curve into a smile as he changed into his night clothes, not caring that the daylight was attempting to break through his window. He sat down next to his boyfriend and leaned his head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent and letting the tension in his shoulders drop. Kokichi scooted as close as he could against Shuichi and curled into him, still relaxing against the pillow.

Pancake Night still echoed in Shuichi’s mind, but they were too tired for that kind of conversation. He let his fingers trail down Kokichi’s back, gently stroking his skin and the fabric of his crop top. He finally maneuvered Kokichi to lay down, taking the pillow and putting it underneath his head before following the suit, tossing the blankets over them.

Shuichi moved so that he was spooning Kokichi, wrapping his arm around his waist and bringing him close towards his body. He kissed Kokichi’s neck and he could hear the D.I.C.E leader laugh softly. “When we wake up,” Shuchi said quietly. “I wanna talk to you.”

“Hmm.” Kokichi murmured softly. “Hey, Shuichi-chan?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re weird.”

Shuichi spluttered a laugh and he tucked his nose against Kokichi’s neck. “Good night, Kokichi-kun.”

“Good morning beloved.” 

                                                               X

Shuichi felt something against his forehead and he knew that if he opened his eyes one of two things were going to happen. Either he was going to wake up in the middle of a doodling fest on his face again, or he was going to wake up to Kokichi’s forehead being pressed against his, trying to startle him awake. It wasn’t all the time that Kokichi would try to scare him awake, but it was a favorite method of his to use. The ice cubes were a dirty trick and they both knew it. 

“Awww man.” Kokichi pouted when Shucihi’s eyes fluttered open and he just smiled. “Here I thought you were going to try to headbutt me.”

“Sorry. I guess I wasn’t all that tired enough for you to scare me.” Shuichi offered. “How long have you been awake?”

“All morning. Sheesh, Shuichi-chan, you sure sleep a lot don’t you? I woke up right at the crack of dawn!”

“That’s a bold-faced lie, I came home at the crack of dawn.” Shuichi gently flicked Kokichi’s shoulder and Kokichi rolled off, pouting as though he just got pinched.

“You’re being mean to me!” Kokichi whined. “I didn’t do anything to you yet.”

“Yet.” Shuichi repeated, amused and in love and...his smile faded as he really took in Kokichi. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“I slept just fine, thanks.”

“I thought you hate lies and jokes.” Shuichi said slowly and he watched Kokichi’s face go neutral and blank. Shuichi was worried. Shuffle hadn’t been wrong to be concerned. Kokichi’s wide eyes were a little narrow with sleep and fatigue. Even though he was hyperactive, there wasn’t the same dramatic flair to his actions. If Kokichi was really in the mood to prank Shuichi awake, he would have done something new, not something that became a little bit of an inside joke to them.

It troubled him. “Shuffle-chan...asked for Pancake Night.” Shuichi said cautiously. Kokichi was unpredictable when it came to confrontation. He could either back down and stay silent, or he would lash out and run away. Kokichi wasn’t much of a fighter, and neither was Shuichi for that matter. He hoped that this wouldn’t turn into one. “We talked about you.”

“I figured.” Kokichi subconsciously bit at his thumb nail. “I’m a terrible leader for letting my subordinates get worried about me like that.”

“I think you’re a wonderful leader, which is why they are worried like that.” Shuichi said slowly, “Is...is it about Aki-chan? About Deuce-kun and Trick-kun?”

“It’s not important.” Kokichi said, with a soft sigh. He looked at Shuichi and usually it was the kind of look that would get Shuichi to drop the subject. Kokichi didn’t open up because someone asked questions. He opened up because someone accepted him and he wanted to talk. Shuichi knew that him trying to pry wasn’t going to help here. “But I appreciate that you worry, beloved.” Shuichi felt his hand being squeezed and he looked back to see Kokichi had gotten back on the bed, sitting close to him. “I’m just sorry that I made you sick with worry.”

Shuichi doubted that he was going to get more from him about what was going on. He doubted that he could press about it. Instead, he decided to change tactics. “They were talking about going hopping.”

Kokichi blinked and he pressed his finger against his cheek. “Just because I’m feeling down?”

“So you are feeling something.”

“I’m feeling a lukewarm sense of affection, but I’m pretty sure that’s just because the sun’s hitting me.” Kokichi replied as he dived into Shuichi’s arms, laying on his lap. “So I better soak it up now.”

“Haha.” Shuichi snickered a little as he threaded his fingers through Kokichi’s hair. “So you like that idea then. To go hopping.”

“Are you going to be there?” Kokichi asked, turning around so that he could stare up at Shuichi upside down. He reached up and cupped Shuichi’s cheek, rubbing against the skin with his thumb. “If you are I might go.”

A part of him really wanted to say no. Parties weren’t his thing and with this case and Aki being in a killing game, it felt wrong. It felt irresponsible. He had so much that he needed to do, and yet he also knew that Aki would’ve told him to go. She would shove him out the door, and try to get him to talk to someone. Widow would join him at the wall, Aki would attempt to keep up with Shuffle and maybe get dragged into a ballroom dance with Takahashi. Shuichi would watch Kokichi come towards him, dramatic and foreboding, dancing around with words and playful banter rather than music and steps.

It just didn’t feel right to have fun when she was in a game that wasn’t. It didn’t feel right to be able to do something, when she couldn’t. 

But he also knew the world didn’t stop for anyone. Not for her and not for him.

“Do you want me there?” Shuichi finally asked, keeping his voice steady. 

“Would I ever not want you by my side?” Kokichi replied easily. “You wound me, Shuichi-chan.”

“Then I’ll come.” 

“Good.”

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Unstable (A Fe Sides Fic)

Word Count: 2171

TW: It’s another vent fic babyyy swearing, yelling, insults, threats (sort of), an excess of anxiety, there’s an intrusive thought from one of them about jumping off of a building but its one line that she gets scolded for. I think that’s it but if there’s more let me know!

Notes: I had a really rough week last week and now that I’m done with school I have time to write fun things again and I needed a vent. It also is part of rebuilding my personal mind palace! I plan on making more with these guys, they are really easy to write honestly, it was like an out of body experience.

Pairings: Lol nope, not even a little bit no.

Summary: The mind palace was usually quiet. The facets did not all get along, and everyone is high strung during Quaranfinals. Someone needs to step in and get this train moving again.

The mind palace was usually rather quiet. All facets left each other alone for the most part, hoping to stay functional and avoid unnecessary fusions but the last few weeks had been out of the norm. Inge was high strung as ever and was snapping at the smallest inconveniences and that wasn’t even addressing the others.

“Listen here you unstable mother fucker! We don't have time for your whiny depressed bullshit right now! She has two huge finals and your fucking cahoots with Barbie is the opposite of helpful! She needs to WORK and you guys are actively working against that! Don't either of you care about her future?!”

“How about you shut your trap for 5 seconds and drop your high and mighty act? The only reason me and Izzy have been working against you is because you have been failing at your job ever since this quarantine started. If you actually did your fucking job maybe me and Iz wouldn’t be falling down a hole ourselves. For someone who needs to have so much control all the time it's surprising how little you’re ever able to keep. You act like you're the ringleader around here when it's obviously Izzy and Lia. I may not like Lia but at least she can work with me. You on the other hand-”

Lia and Isadora were nervous. They were onlookers in the argument and couldn't get a word in edgewise to stop them. Izzy was trying to hide in her Roman Sanders sweater and Lia was hidden in her hoodie that was too big on her, biting her thumb as her eyes darted everywhere but the fight. In the real world Fe was closing her laptop with a sigh, desperate to go and take a nap. She looked quickly to Izzy with all she had to say, communicated in the glance. Suddenly the palace shook and Inge snapped her head at Lia who was very interested at her chewed up Crocs and not the anger filled gazes directed at her.

“LIA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“She's too stressed. If you keep at this you're gonna wake up T and that wont help you in getting her to do her work. If T gets up right now she's gonna fail and we all know it. Let Izzy calm her down for a bit. See, she's only taking a half an hour long nap, like her dad told her to. We all just need to chill for a bit.”

Lia was scratching at her face and Inge finally let the anger and annoyance leave her. She gently swatted at Lia’s hand, placing a quickly conjured sheet of bubble wrap in it. Lia smiled at the floor, still not meeting her eyes, vaguely worried at the signs of T waking up, hoping beyond hope that she was just still channeling the hyperactivity that Fe was plagued with. Izzy was meanwhile glassy eyed, placing herself on the floor blindly, waving her hands about in a way that all three recognized as her weaving a dream. It was wonderful to watch, extremely relaxing to see her go off on an adventure of her own design. It was almost meditative to watch her methodical movements, the simple twists of her wrists as she moved the story along. Lia busied herself with popping the bubbles, as Carli and Inge both left to busy themselves in their own wings of the palace. Lia sat across from Isadora, glancing up at her every once in a while. She muttered quietly to herself and maybe Izzy as well.

“She's waking up. I don't know what we’re gonna do, we really gotta get Fe through this last week, but Isa will stop us, I know she will, but how are we supposed to still get things done”

“We’ll figure it out”

Lia’s head snapped up at Izzy whose eyes were still unseeing as she spoke.

“Talisa works with us. We just need to convince her to use her strengths to support us in this. I know she can. Besides, dreams are so much more fun with her around. Who knows, maybe daydream mode will help her write her essay”

Lia smiled softly as she felt comfortable enough to look Izzy in the eyes that couldn't see her. She nodded and went back to her bubble wrap, far more content with the slow draining of anxiety from her body. At least until the palace shook again.

“AAAAAH!!! Well what a wonderful time to be alive eh? Heh, that's a joke, gods, she's asleep and she's still exuding panic like no one's business!”

Out of a darkened corridor walks Talisa in all her glory and self deprecation. There was yet another shake as Fe awoke. Isadora’s eyes cleared in an instant as she rose to her feet.

“Oh boy, Pops woke her up? Ooooh that's not great. I'm sure she's gonna be off all day huh Iz? Oh that's just fuel for this, gosh what have I missed?”

“Quarantine you lucky bitch”

Izzy walks to her with a cocky grin and does a simple handshake with the crazy eyed side. Talisa’s eyes glance around the room. She grins wider, scratching at her scalp.

“All this panic and mania and I wasn't invited? I feel like I should be insulted!”

Lia rose as well, abandoning the bubble wrap as the need to stim left her, and walked over. She smiled small and avoided her face.

“She's got homework. Its, it's all homework now, everything's homework. I haven't been helpful much, but I knew you would probably make it all harder for her, I've been enough of a hindrance for her, I imagined she probably wouldn't do well being overly mentally compromised AND lazy as all get out”

“Oh Lia! I'm wounded! I'm not all bad! Plus-”

There was a sudden shift of the palace again as Fe sat down and started furiously writing her essay, anxiety as her fuel, aided by a giant cup of soda from the gas station.

“A little blood pumping’s good for the brain, ain't it? She just needs a little push! Maybe off of a building eh? Sounds like a ball!”

“Yo, you've been up for less than 5 minutes, stop with that shit, give her a week maybe? So we can properly talk her down?”

“Oh fine, I guess my premium service can wait to activate!”

Her hands moved from her scalp to her arms, scratching without conviction. Isadora softly took her hand off, stopping the scratching and handing her a fidget cube to replace the destructive stim.

“Ohhhh! This is neato mojito Dora!!! Where'd you think this un up? It's pretty! It's my colors too! Ain't that sweeter than molasses! Why I've been so rude, how've you been doing Dora? And you Lia?”

The two smiled. They genuinely liked her, she was nice to be around, while she had her problems, she didn't get mean and angry like Inge and Carli do. She was just… manic. A little odd, maybe crazy, but she wasn’t mean. She didn't yell, and it calmed the two. And they got along well anyways, Lia because she often was a placeholder for her when Fe wasn’t extra out of it and knew how to deal with her quirks, and Dora because divergence fed her like nothing else, made her imagination run wild.

“Whoo! Well ladies, looks like I've got my work cut out for me eh? She invited that boy over last week and that was the first time she saw him in weeks? Oh and her other school friend left her group chat? Yikes, she's a right mess!”

“Yup. she… hasn't been adjusting well to all of this well”

“I’ll say!”

Talisa fidgeted absently with the cube in her hand as she walked around the palace commons, looking around at the scenery. The walls, usually a light lavender were dark violet and the paint was peeling in spots, revealing a gooey black underside. The TV was stuck on a looping image of the most recent Sanders Sides episode. She grinned wide enough to look uncanny, bending her back to crack her spine, almost splitting in half and did a spin as she rose again. She interlocked her fingers and cracked the lot of them and twisted her neck to pop that as well. 

“What are you about to do?”

“Why, what I do best dear Lia!”

She jumped in the air snapping her fingers twice. Her appearance changed, her extraordinarily unruly hair was tied back in a ponytail, tucked through the hole in the back of her baseball cap with the Slytherin logo across the front of it. Her shirt that had been well worn from being worried between her fingers as well as used as pajamas, changed to a tangent hoodie, her shorts with frayed strings switched to a flower patterned pair of leggings, and a skateboard appeared under her feet. She spun around on the board with her wild smile never leaving her face.

“WE’RE ON THE HIGHWAY TO HYPERFOCUS BABES!!! And a little smidge of depression but hey it’ll add to its effectiveness”

It was then that Inge and Carli came running and screamed simultaneously.

“LIA YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP HER ASLEEP!!!”

“Couldn't you for once just do something that was helpful for Fe?”

Talisa stopped in mid spin, turning slowly to look at Carli and Inge. She was no longer smiling. She was glaring and she stepped off of her board and took slow methodical steps towards the two.

“Now now girls, there's no need to scream!”

She was completely in Inge’s face when she said her next words.

“Isn't that right brainiac?”

Inge nodded instantly, fear filling her instantly. Talisa then turned to Carli and grabbed her by the collar of her dress. She glared hard into her eyes and began to grin as Carli’s eyes filled with panic and she avoided her gaze.

“And just for your information, Lia is more helpful than you could ever hope to be, you coward. For someone whose supposed to be confidence you’d think you might be able to share some of that with our host instead of sitting in your room at 3 in the morning and crying into Ramen over the fact that she still isn't in a relationship”

She released Carli, who fell to the ground and scrambled as far away from her as possible and sobbed quietly in the corner she curled up in. and then a moment later, her entire demeanor changed and she smiled happily.

“Oh hi there gals! I was just starting to get Fe to get working!”

Inge blinked owlishly. Her head tilted, as if the whole interaction before held no merit over what Talisa had just said.

“What? But I thought?”

She walked to the TV screen, changing the screen to be a first person view of Fe working away on her essay. Inge made a noise of confusion as she looked back at Talisa yet again.

“But, but you’re a hindrance! You, you make her life a living hell, how is she still doing her work?”

“You know what I do right? Like, you know what my job is? Come on pinky and the pain, I do ADHD yeah, but I also do anxiety and depression. If she doesn't get this stuff done she’ll fail, doncha think that'd drive her to be anxious enough to get it done? If she doesn't she’ll be depressed as all hell, there's no chance she can do law school if she can't even pass an English course. And the bonus of ADHD is that sticky hyperfocus! She’ll be done with that essay before Thursday, and that test for math?”

The palace shook again as the TV showed her turning in her math test. Talisa grinned.

“I’d say it was a walk in the park, wouldn't you? But you know, on an unrelated note, we should really fix that shaking affect, makes me dizzy”

Inge stared in shock and Carli did the same. Talisa stuffed her hands into her front pocket on her jacket and went over to the beanbag across from the TV and plopped down onto it. She pulled her right hand out and chewed on her thumb as she watched the screen. Her job was done for the moment so she let herself relax as she felt the others do the same. Inge rushed back to her room to help aid Fe with the memories needed for writing her essay, but the others placed themselves somewhere in the common room. Carli sat on her love seat and watched the screen intently. Izzy fell asleep quickly, not being needed for the moment, same for Lia, the both of them curling up with Talisa. She let her left hand leave her pocket to pat Lia's head. The only noise was coming from the soft snoring of the sleeping sides and the TV projecting the real world. Finally, finally, the mind palace was quiet again.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing or taken off my list!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!

[greenninjagal-blog]

Weightless (pt2)

Summary: Virgil still hates the human world and humans in particular. But maybe not his strange (definitely not) human housemates

Words: 4297

Pairings: Platonic LAMP

Part One

Read on AO3

“--a week or two. I don’t know I gave him a lot.” Roman’s voice says weakly. Virgil is rather annoyed it’s the first thing he hears when he wakes up. On a good day he hates hearing Roman’s condescending tone, on a bad day Virgil contemplates adding him to the list of humans he wants to kill.

What was Roman doing in his room?

No, wait he wasn’t in his room. Damn, he needed to stop falling asleep couch.

Really, it’s been a month since he’s moved into the building and he has his own room, with a door that locks, the windows that shut all the way, and headphones that blare the sound of the ocean waves as loud as he wanted. He doesn’t need to be out in the common area, taking up the entire couch, headphones on and buried under as many blankets as he can get away with.

He’s sure he’s annoying his housemates with it too. Every once in a while he picks up on the presence of one or two of them skirting through the area---

Wait a second.

“Don’t give me that look! You saw him!”

Virgil’s had that thought before. He knows he’s had that thought before.

“I didn’t see anything.” Logan’s voice replies tersely with an edge that is unlike him. Logan doesn’t rise to emotion, ever. But here he was talking like he ever word was meant to be a barbed attack.

“Oh yeah I forgot, specs!” Even when he sounds like he’s still recovering from being hit by an eighteen wheeler, he manages to sound like the sarcastic asshole he was. “And when were you going to tell the rest of us about the stone eyes ability you suddenly possess?”

Virgil’s missing something. There’s an important bit of information, and it feels like its just on the tip off his tongue, on the brink of his consciousness.

“Guys,” Patton’s voices is strained, but he sounds more worried than anything else. “Let’s not fight.”

Whatever, he’s never cared about his housemates before. Where are his headphones? He wants to crank up the sound of the ocean and pretend it’s dragging Roman under its unforgiving surface again and again and again.

He wants to pretend nothing is wrong.

-ongwroNGWRONG WRONG WRONG

It feels like an alarm that had been going on in his head for years that Virgil hadn’t even noticed until that moment. All at once his brain is screaming, crying, wailing for him to listen. The noise, his noise, the familiar noise of his thoughts comes roaring back and it drowns the dull sleepiness on his brain.

Virgil reacts like someone stuck jumper cables to his temples. The blind panic of it jolts down his spine awakening every limb with a flood of shaky Adrenalin. He’s sitting up before his eyes have even opened. (Granted his vision blurs and waves together and the blood behind his eyes pounds so hard he has to hold back a scream, but he’s sitting up. Ready to defend himself.)

He knows someone else screams. By the time his vision clears enough for him to make sense of his surroundings (common room couch, blankets folded, coffee table cleared and cleaned and his reflection bouncing off the glass window barrier from the peaceful night) Roman, Logan, and Patton are all looking at him with varying degrees of horror. Virgil’s body sways but he’s determined not to fall back down, not to fall back unconscious no matter how loudly it beacons him.

“How the fuck are you awake?” Roman rasps from the opposite end of the couch, his skin pale, and his body tense. There are scratch marks on his arm wrapped tightly with gauze, and a tiny bit of fear in his expression that Virgil’s mind struggles to explain.

“Language!” Patton scolds, but even he looks a breath away from a heart attack, a step away from Logan wearing different dark tinted glasses than normal. Why? Why why why why-

“I gave you enough to kill an elephant!” Roman yells, pressing himself as far away from Virgil as he can get.

Virgil doesn’t know what he’s saying, doesn’t know what is going on. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His brain can’t focus on anything, and his vision keeping dancing between hyperfocus and unrecognizable blur. His chest heaves but every inhale is a fight. He’s panicking. He knows he’s panicking. Something foreign is in his body and it’s trying to smother his awareness.

“What…” Virgil’s words come out slurred, every push of his tongue is a battle, “What did you... do to me?”

A shooting pain in his neck. His fingers feel like led dragging over the spot with absolute horror. There’s indents there-- why are there indents? Virgil’s never had indents there.

“Is this... a bite mark?”

Virgil’s head pounds, that alarm in his head screams so loud he can’t hear any other thought. What happened what did he do what did the human do to him--

He nearly misses Logan straightening in his seat and shifting his glasses ever so slightly. “Interesting, Roman,” he says in the calmest monotone Virgil has ever heard, “I was not informed that one or two weeks now meant roughly an hour.”

“Logan!” Patton throws a hand over his mouth, but Virgil’s certain it’s hiding a smile.

Roman’s head swivels to face to other with a partial snarl on it, “Hey you don’t have room to talk! You weren’t going to tell us that you can transform people to stone with a glance!”

Virgil’s stomach drops out, “What?”

Logan turns that stare on him, the dark lenses of his glasses pulling like a shadow over the other others eyes but Virgil is acutely aware of his iris movement behind them. “You don’t remember?” He doesn’t wait for Virgil to ask what he doesn’t remember; Logan turns accusingly towards Roman, “He doesn’t remember?”

Roman’s nose scrunches up, half a sneer on his face. Virgil’s head pounds and he wonders ideally if this was his time to die. Could he just drop dead right here on the sofa? With his body aching in every sense of the word, his mind stuffed with cotton, and surrounded by people he doesn’t trust?

“It happens sometimes!” Roman says unapologetically, “A side effect! He’s not even supposed to be awake! No human wakes up that fast! I--”

“Human?” Virgil repeats, before he can stop himself.

“Virgil, kiddo,” Patton says soothingly, “why don’t you lie back down--”

“You think I--me-- am a human?” Virgil repeats.

It takes him a moment to remember that fuck, that was not information he was supposed to be sharing. His tongue felt like lead, fumbling over his his teeth as if he could take the words out of the air before any of them heard them.

“You’re no--” Patton blinks

“Of course!” Roman shouts with his booming boastful voice that Virgil hates more than anything else about him. The other flings himself off the couch hands dancing in the air as if he were composing some sort of ballad. “It makes sense!”

Virgil presses his back into the sofa, hands so tight that his knuckles are turning white. He thinks that if Roman has any good sense he’ll keep out of kicking range, because Virgil doesn’t do well being cornered and human kneecaps are very vulnerable.

Except that when Roman twists around to face him again he’s grinning brightly-- too brightly, too charismatically, his lips shining, twisting in that ever appealing way that Virgil still hasn’t figured out how to ignore. There’s sparkles on him again, shimmering on his hair like tiny glittering water droplets. His stance is overtly confident, as he smiles, and his eyes are undoubtedly, unabashedly, red.

“You’re not human!” Roman says gleefully, showing off this pointed teeth. “That’s how you wore off my venom so fast!”

“Venom?” Virgil repeats, a dash of anger breaking through the cotton in his mind. “What venom?!”

“You’re also not human,” Logan notes. Virgil steals a glance at him, as he carefully takes off his glasses with eyes firmly closed and proceeds to clean them. There’s pale green skin around his eyes and eyelids that look like eyeshadow, but with a swoop of his stomach Virgil remembers exactly what Roman had said about Logan turning someone to stone.

Logan’s not human. Roman’s not human. Virgil’s not human.

“Oh dear,” Patton whispers.

From where he’s standing Virgil is acutely aware that Patton could go screaming to the entire city block. Every person who had ever come in contact with the supernatural world would be flooding their little beach hovel and Virgil wasn’t sure he could survive being thrown off a cliff again. It’s what any sane normal human would do.

Virgil feels the water in the house, and he feels it the moment it bursts (all too easily, as if it had done it before). The kitchen sink explodes, the piping in the walls ruptures, a flood of water shoots in the room without a direction.

Logan’s eyes flicker open and shut before Virgil has any sense to blink, and the other man shoves his glasses back on so forcibly they nearly break in his hands. Roman splutters as he gets a face full of the cold liquid, tripping backwards over the coffee table. Virgil dives to the floor, nearly biting off his tongue when his chin his the hardwood floor. The liquid rains, and for a second Virgil is filled with an impossible bliss at just seeing it he can’t force himself to move before he’s also soaked.

(It’s wrong! It’s not salty! It’s not the ocean, ocean, ocean.)

((The ocean will kill him if he touches it without his skin.))

Then as suddenly as it had begun, as suddenly as Virgil had recognized he had done it, it’s gone again. Virgil stares as the room is flooded with the scent of sugar and blue raspberry clouds. The world seems to stop, pause, breathe. The pressure that forced the water to break froze and Virgil can feel it instantly retreat.

Then the water rises up from the floor, pulls back from Roman, draws out of his Virgil’s owe clothes and returns to the pipes it broke out of. The pipe mends itself, the sink fits back in place, and the wall folds back into place until it looks like it never happened before.

Across the room, Patton stands lock in half concentration, half happiness with one hand outstretched, his fingers and the tips of his ears an icy, vibrant, and totally-not-human blue. Unearthly matching blue smoke dances at his feet until the job is complete, then when he lowers his hand it fades like an illusion, leaving him appearing every bit of the human he wasn’t.

Virgil can’t breathe and it has nothing to do with the venom Roman may or may not have injected him with.

There's a silence in the house that none of them can break. Not even Roman, whose voice had annoyingly persisted throughout the house for the past week every time that Virgil had tried to find quiet time. Not even Patton who had been an unending well of happiness and conversation, even when Virgil refused to acknowledge him. Not even Logan’s whose simple side comments made being in the same room as him not suck. The silence stuck in the air as heavy as oil until Virgil couldn’t stand it.

“What are you?”

“What are you?” Roman shoots back, “You’re the one who keeps doing that! The water! Do you know how much time goes into getting my hair--”

“You bit me!”

“You scratched me!”

Virgil hisses, “I probably had a good reason!”

“Yeah, because you’re psychotic!”

“STOP!” Patton yells over whatever Virgil is replying. Virgil tenses, at the sharpness of his voice, instinctively curling away and glaring at Roman. Roman dismisses him shortly.

“I’m not stopping! He’s a menace! Nine months of living in the house with him and he has done nothing but be an ass to all of us! Ignoring us, disregarding us, stealing our blankets--” Roman grabs one from the couch shaking it at Virgil like that could make him regret it. All is does is make Virgil’s shoulders ache again.

“Then he just goes berserk in one night?!” Roman says hotly, “You’re the reason why humans hunt us down and kill us.”

Virgil recoils like he’s been hit-- and really he has been. Every bit of anger in him stirs at Roman’s words, stirs and sizzles and bubbles. What does Roman know about being hunted and killed? What gives him the right to say anything about this? He might not be human but he was close enough: self absorbed and toxic and--

“I’m not the one who brought home a fucking hunter!”

Virgil freezes at his own words. He tries to find the proof in his memory, sifting through the cotton trying to pick out exactly why he’s sure without a doubt that Roman had done something so stupid. He scratches on it, a vague shapeless thing that fills him with terror.

“You brought home a hunter,” He repeats.

“What?” Roman laughs, “No? I--no!”

Virgil throws a hand over his mouth to keep himself from vomiting. Vertigo hits him hard, like it had when he had first woken up and found them all sitting there staring at him.

“I didn’t!” Roman tugs his collar, “He would have told me! They always tell me!”

Silver lip piercing, the curly hair, the ripped vest, and the red bandanna tied around his upper arm, Virgil remembers. He bites into his hand, trying to muffle the scream. He had been right there, Virgil had been standing right in front of one of the men who had ruined his life.

Coldness floods over him.

“Where is he?” Virgil demands hoarsely, “What happened to him?”

Logan makes an uncomfortable sound that has no place coming from his general direction.

“Logan turned him to stone,” Roman says, “So problem solved! No more hunter! No one saw us so no one will be coming here--”

“Roman!” Patton wrings the hem of his shirt, in distress, “Killing people is not the answer!”

“Hunters do it to people like us everyday!”

Virgil barely hears them, “Where is he?”

“There’s nothing to worry about--”

“Where the fucking hell is he!” Virgil shouts.

Roman and Logan both make a point not to look towards the kitchen. Virgil scrambles to his feet nearly toppling over yet again. Blood rushes in his ears, his too-light shoulders make him feel off balanced. He trips into the kitchen area.

There’s a statue there, standing with a face of repulsion on its face. It’s lifelike. Virgil wants to cry, because it’s standing right there and in the darkness of the early morning Virgil can almost convince himself that it’s still living.

“Virgil,” Patton’s voice says quietly.

“Fix it,” Virgil pleads. “Please, fix it like you fixed the wall or whatever, please just--”

“I can’t.” Patton said eyes too big to be lying, “Djinn can’t interfere with life and death. I tried, but he’s gone.”

“He can’t be!” Virgil shudders wrapping his arms around his stomach, “He can’t be dead. I need him to not be dead!” Part of him realizes it’s completely unfair that this is the most he’s ever talked to any of them and here he is asking them to bring a known hunter back to life with the chance that they’ll escape and bring the entire town down on them.

“Virgil,” Patton says again and it horribly sad.

Oh fuck he’s pretty sure he’s crying.

“He can’t be dead,” Virgil says stubbornly. He feels like a little kid again, curled up on the sandy beach to look at the stars in the sky that he couldn’t see from the ocean, and wish, wish, wishing all the bad things away from himself.

And suddenly the ache for that stupid kid is so strong Virgil can’t inhale again. The kid who effortlessly jumped from the cliffs with blackflips and breathed in the salty water, the kid who hoarded shiny pebbles and went to the surface to star at the stars, the kid who thought aimlessly, naively, that the humans weren’t nearly as bad as everyone had always said they were. He wants to go back to that kid and shake him hard, because seeing the stars had not been worth it that night or any of the ones after it.

“What are you crying for?” Roman demands, but Patton shushes him quickly. He kneels next to Virgil--when did Virgil get on the floor?

“Virgil, I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours,” he says, “But I promise everything is going to be okay. We’re safe and we’re home--”

Virgil shakes his head, harsher than he means to. Because this place is not his home, because he can’t find the words to explain this, can’t figure out why any of them should care.

Virgil hates the human world. It’s stupid, terrible, and frustrating. Everything he does feels wrong: the air is too thin and their no current in it, the sun is too bright and blistering hot, the people are strange and foreign. Virgil thinks as he sits on the ground in front of a statue probably sobbing, that he hates this world more now than he did before.

Distantly he’s aware of the waves rolling over the shore with malicious sorrow, washing the sand again and again, as Patton reaches out and cups his upper arm in what he supposes must be a comforting gesture. The skin on skin contact feel dry and brittle and Virgil wishes hates it as much as he loves it.

“Virgil,” Logan’s tone cuts through his thoughts like a knife, piercing in to the dull throb of his head, “What did he take from you?”

Virgil hiccups so hard his stomach rolls over. He has a million lies ready and on his tongue waiting to be delivered but none of them come out.

“My s-skin,” He chokes.

“Your what-now?” Roman echoes sounding offended.

Logan nods solemnly like that was expected, “His skin. He’s a selkie.”

“A what?”

Virgil wonders if he can convince Patton that killing people is alright if the only person he kills is Roman. His exhale shudders his entire body, and he leans into the touch of the-- Djinn? Is that what he called himself?

Logan twists his watch around his wrist, “A selkie. They are a water race that primarily tend to stay towards the bottom of the ocean and not cause trouble. Unlike mermaids.” He clicks his tongue distastefully which against all odds makes Virgil want to laugh. “If I remember correctly they have skins that act much like the human form of a jacket. Taking it off allows them to walk on land.”

Roman makes a face. “So you just…” He mimes unzipping a jacket from his forehead. “That’s pretty creepy.” Patton shoots him a glare that Virgil gladly doubles.

“What! Objectively! You’re a creepy cookie!” Roman shakes his arms out and then wraps them around himself.

“I do not think you have room to talk, Roman. You create a narcotic from your salivary glands that can instantly put any creature into a coma, so you can do what exactly?” Logan asks. “I’m surprised humans are not more fearful of your kind than they are of anything else.”

Roman’s smile turns a little to sharp, “Low blows coming from someone with Gorgon blood in them.” He shakes out his arms again, “Besides it’s for emergencies only.”

“And what counts as an emergency to an incubus?” Logan counters.

“I’m not about to explain that in a room that has Patton in it!”

“Patton’s a grown Djinn. He is most likely older than even you.”

Patton made a sound in the back of his throat, “Please don’t fight guys! I hate fighting!”

“Very well,” Logan turned back to Virgil, “Apologies Virgil.” He shifts his glasses and Virgil starts to think that it might me a nervous tick for him, constantly making sure that his glasses were covering his line of vision completely.

“I do not understand why you neglected to tell any of us about this.” He says, “If my research is correct, without a skin a selkie cannot return to life in the ocean.”

“Whoa, wait hold on!” Roman throws up a time out sign, “Why do people care so much about this- ugh- skin? So what, if he doesn’t have one! There’s got to be plenty of other selkies out there without one!”

“It’s not--” Virgil takes a shuddering breath, “Selkies can’t survive without their skins. Salt water literally dissolves us in this form.”

Roman stares at him for a second. “Then why the hell do you people live in the ocean?!”

“Language,” Patton wrings the hem of his shirt with his delicate fingers again, “What would humans want with a selkie skin?”

“What wouldn’t they want?” Virgil snorts, miserably  “They're soft, heavy, and virtually indestructible. Humans love that shit.”

Patton taps him on the arm twice, a warning smile on his face, “I know you kiddos are having a rough time right this second, but the next one who uses one of those bad words I’m going to have to wash your mouth with soap!”

“That’s quite unnecessary Patton,” Logan says, “While I agree that the usage of such profanity could be better regulated, we are all adults here and there is no need for such a childish tech--”

“You’re not my mom!” Roman yells gleefully over him, as if he was looking to challenge Patton’s power. “I can say whatever I want! Fuck! Hell! Da--”

In a second Virgil’s senses are bombarded with that blue raspberry sugar smell that’s so strong he can taste it. Patton’s body doesn’t move but he tenses ever so slightly. Virgil watches in amazing meant as Roman face screws up and his tirade is cut short with gagging. The incubus doubles over and spits out half a bar of soap on the ground.

Logan makes a face at the cleaner and then at Roman, “I stand corrected.”

“Fu--” Roman spits bubbles out of his mouth, and frantically wipes his tongue on his sleeve, “Fudge! I said Fudge! What was that?! Cucumber?! I hate cucumber!”

Patton nudges Virgil with a wink, “Oh sorry, RoRo! I had absolutely no idea about that!”

Virgil can’t help but smile. For a moment he forgets about everything bad that was going on. It just the four of them camping out in between the rooms in various states of ease.

As suddenly as all their smiles come, they melt off again and Virgil is left staring at a stone statue and dead end. His shoulders hunch with an ache he can’t fix and he still hasn’t eaten for the day. Logan turned a man to stone, Roman can tranquilize people with a bite (ew), and Patton--Patton just gives him a squeeze.

“I can’t…” the Djinn says, “I can’t conjure things I don’t know the exact location of. But if there’s anything else I can do to help you, Virgil, I will.”

And for some reason the sentence makes Virgil want to cry some more. “W-what?”

His shoulders tense as Patton removes his arm and undoes his cardigan cape. In a smooth movement he plops it over Virgil’s shoulders and smiles that blinding smile of his. “I live to help people kiddo! And I’d say you need some helping right about now!”

Logan clears his throat, and leans casually, deceptively dismissively against the wall. “I, too, would like to offer my services in your aid, Virgil.” He says, “Perhaps in return you might further enlighten me on the habits of selkies. There’s barely any knowledge about your customs anywhere.”

“You don’t--”

Roman groans loudly, “Stormy Weather! Just accept it! We’re going to help you get your weird swimsuit back.”

“It’s a skin.”

“Whatever!”

Virgil frowns up at him, “why would you want to help me?”

He has the gall to look offended again. “Because I’m a nice person!” He runs a hand through his hair, sparkles dancing in the dim light around them. “Also I want my blanket back.”

Patton claps his hands, far too happy for anyone at the late hour, “Oh! It can be like a family adventure!”

“Family?” Logan repeats incredulously.

Patton motions to the four of them, “Family! Us! Inhumans have to stick together!”

“You do realize that once Virgil gets his skin back he will not be returning correct? That’s how selkies work.”

Virgil blinks surprised. Logan’s right, of course. Even if Virgil hadn’t hated this stupid world, he’d never want to come back. He misses the ocean, he misses the darkness, the coolness of the waters welcoming him home. But even knowing this, he can’t figure out why there’s a bit of guilt in his stomach when Patton’s face falls.

“Oh, well,” Patton brightens just as easily again, “Then I’ll make sure to treasure all the time we have together while we have it!” He stands up and offers Virgil a hand. “What do you say, kiddo? Let’s get your skin!”

Virgil flits between the three of them. He knows humans suck, he’s experienced his fair share of their suckiness. But beyond that he’s never...hung out with other inhumans. He doesn’t know anything about Gorgon’s gazes or incubi or djinn. He doesn’t know where they would start trying to help him, if they could even help him. His head still hurts and his limbs are sore.

But the cardigan around his shoulders means something. It’s a weight, not a perfect weight of his skin, but it's something.

He takes Patton’s hand.

For the first time in nine months he doesn’t feel completely weightless.