#but if it came out that more people died in the early space race than reported I wouldn’t be surprised

[bereft-of-frogs]

I’m so loving that Constellation is just ‘lost cosmonaut conspiracy theory: the high budget Apple TV series’ I went through a phase of being so obsessed with the lost cosmonaut theory

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader Prologue: An Odd Woman

Summary: Tommy meets you in 1919, the beginning that feels like an ending in hindsight. Among betting men there is a vibrant culture of superstition and mysticism. It was in this industry you found your trade as a “psychic,” and met a man with a Red Right Hand.

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn, Tommy is shallow and confused at first. WC: 1.6k

1919 was an odd year for Mr. Shelby. His eyes were still bright, the boy who died in the tunnels still clung to his ankles as he stalked the roads of Birmingham. In those days, Tommy was still starving for money. For any sort of gain in power. He still slept on an old mattress with his drug of choice within reach. He still delivered his horses to mystics and magicians to psych out the competitors of the next day’s race. It was this Thomas Shelby who brought himself to the door of your flat. You, the newest little medium in Small Heath.

He had heard many things about you. How you seemed to just “know,” things. You weren’t gypsy, but there were whispers that you could see inside hearts and minds like no other. For a reasonable fee, you would read a person like a book tell them the next chapter of their life without hesitation. He was not normally the sort to seek your kind out. Thomas Shelby could see ahead just fine without the guide of psychic, genuine or charlatan in nature. Until, of course, a crate of guns came into his possession and an Irish woman sang to him from atop a table. Even the devil needs direction, sometimes. 

That morning, the devil had sought you out.

Your flat looked the same as any other. There were green vines and a purple curtain blocking his view inside your window. Plain bricks on the outside. Gutter hanging off slightly from your roof. Thinking it best to just get it all over with, he knocked. You answered. And he froze.

When he first saw you, there was nothing extraordinary about you. You didn't wear a silk turban or line your eyes with black to convince your customers of some supernatural gift. You were just a young woman dressed comfortably in her little flat. A long, thick robe suited for the winter chill was tied around your body and sensible slippers on your feet. Nothing overly frilly or fanciful. Tommy would almost call your presentation "dowdy." However, what had made him freeze were your eyes. He knows the power of his own stare. Your stare was something truly unique. It was something he couldn’t quite put into words. The color of your eyes was not exceptional, nor the size of your eyes or their shape. There was a force behind the stare that had him fixed to the spot. The sound of your voice was all that put him back into the world.

“Can I help you?” your tone is flat, but he can’t decide of its intentional.

Tommy takes a glance from the corner of his eye to ensure there are no onlookers. The roads are empty. He looks into your eyes once more and says, “You see the future, I hear.”

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat,” you step aside to let him inside. He almost hesitates. Second thoughts are not something Tommy likes to entertain. To falter, to ruminate, is to dance at the edge of cowardice. Tommy pushes onward and crosses the threshold of your home. Thus begins the start of a most unusual affair.

The lighting was dim in your little flat, and on the walls were dozens of shadowboxes were every assortment of insect on display. In fact, nearly everything in your home appeared to be some sort of collection. Orderly in their presentation but crowded due to lack of space. All the furniture looked inherited rather than new, but that was typical. There was the scent of lavender and cedar in the air. As he passed by two sticks of incense burning on the mantle of your fireplace, he found the origin of the fragrance. 

‘No trace of any other resident in the home. No husband. How modern’, he thought. As he made his observations, Tommy was painfully aware of your eyes on his back. You guided him silently to a small room with two sofas facing each other. He sat opposite to you, not bothering to remove his cap. As you sit across from him, your eyes are everywhere but him. Roving about the room as you tap your thumb to the tip of each finger on your hand. By the way you were sitting, someone just entering the room might assume you were a guest by how stiff your posture was. Back completely straight, both feet firmly planted on the floor. This was your home, your time, and Tommy looked more at ease sitting on your own furniture. 

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time,” you say as your bottom hits the sofa cushion. He hears you. He hears you make a correct assumption about him, but he does not show his acknowledgement. 

Tommy threads his fingers together on his lap, “They say you can see inside of people, tell them things about them that even they don’t know.”

Blinking owlishly at him you reply, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! Should put that on a sign outside my doorway. Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby. You are Mr. Shelby yes?”

“That I am,” he nearly laughs, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

Your eyes snap onto his own and again he feels caught off guard by it. Slowly, you lean forward, “It’s not like you to need help. You avoid seeking it. Something has happened to you that has never happened before, you do not know how to carry on because you cannot fall back on learned tactics to navigate the storm.”

He says nothing. Tommy finds you don’t require his input to carry on speaking as you tilt your head and continue. As you speak, you never break eye contact. Your gaze is one that leaves him feeling stripped to the bone. Flesh peeled back and pinned so that you may inspect him further with an objective, curious eye, "One of the walking wounded, soldier come home from war. You don't sleep well. None of you do. But, you hide it better than most."

"Quite the assumption," he deadpanned.

You carry on as if not hearing him, “A Catholic without Christ. Guilty but without remorse. You only follow yourself and yet you have lost faith within. So, you act out of your own character to try to find a solution to a problem you’ve made yourself. A problem with solutions you can't commit to.”

Tommy’s heart is beating faster in his chest. The plain-faced woman who greeted him at the door has been replaced. Your face seems to change, the sir around you shifting. There is a thrill in being seen. A thrill, but also annoyance. “And what would you do to solve such a problem?”

“It wouldn’t help you to know what anyone else would do. Even if my way was best, you wouldn’t obey it. Obedience is not something you do willingly,” there’s a smile in your eyes that makes his hands tighten around each other. “Is your greatest problem above, below, or beside you?”

His face remains stoic as he mulls over your odd question. He thinks of those beneath him, the factory workers who riot and cause him distraction. Beside him, his brothers in arms and brothers by blood. Ada. Freddie…. Grace. And then he thinks of Campbell and Kimber. “Above me, always.”

You nod, “There was no need for you to come see me. You know the answer to the question before you asked it. The greatest woe for you is that there are matters of the heart keeping you from stabbing upwards to the enemies who stand over you. You aren’t used to having that sort of obstacle... You need to decide what you want more and act accordingly. To have both things will end poorly, but I can't stop you. Nobody can but you.”

For a moment, he feels a sense of relief. It had been many years since the words of a stranger had done that to him. This feeling was overtaken by an immediate realization. He had come to you under the assumption that you were gifted by second-sight. Yet… You had no cards, no crystals, did not say a prayer or even a hymn in a nonsense language.

“You’re no medium,” he states it as fact. Not as a question or accusation. Though, he watches to see how you take it. Tommy likes to see how people respond to being caught, he finds it to be the most revealing time for most. For the third or fourth time since he laid eyes on you, you defied expectation.

With a slow shrug you say, “I’ve never made the claim that I was one. Everyone started saying so one day and I decided not to correct them. I just read people.”

‘What an odd woman,’ Tommy leaned back in his seat. Face still as stone. As he looked at you, your posture returned to that stiff, nearly-too-straight, position from before. He could see why the average man would see you as something beyond the natural. Ordinary to otherworldly. An odd woman indeed. You stand from your couch with a small, crooked smile, “That’ll be ten quid, Mr. Shelby, a discount for a first-time reading. It'll be thirteen for the next time.”

He pushed the money into your hands and said, "Won't be a next time." You gave him no audible response as you walked him to your door and released him from the dreamworld your home had trapped him in. Tommy did not look back as he walked three paces from your door and lit a cigarette. No one had seen him and he had a feeling you wouldn't share his visit with others.

Tommy pushed you from his mind to focus on what may come next.

The rest of the day moved quickly and slowly all at once after he left your little flat. He swore to himself that he would never go back. Swore that he hated every instant spent in your dark home that smelled of lavender and cedar. Swore that he despised the way you peeled back his skin with that glare so sharp. No, he couldn't feel them on him. Not at all.

[glitchedspace]

Edit: Kinda thinking of making them a OuterSwapKinSona (I know it's a mouthful). They kinda have Swap Sans traits and I found out earlier this year I share a birthday with the little blue goober.

A OuterKinSona I made sometime around March/Aprilish. Their named after a star in Aries. Don't really have any backstory of how they came to be. They just kinda exist. I do have info for them though.

Was really tired when I drew them. Don't mind the terribly drawn hands

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Sheratan

Nicknames: Sher (Sure or share)

Gender/Sex: Any/Naturally forms female ecto.

Age:??? (Mentally in late 20s/early 30s)

Species/Race: Skeleton

Eye color: Dark purple eye sockets. Pupil is a light blue that appears white. The socket will brighten and the pupils will turn to a star or heart shape when exited or see something they like.

Hair: None

Skin: White bones

Sexuality: Demi

Personality: Laid back and slightly lazy. Adventurous and likes to discover different places in their universe, awkward

Likes: Nebulas, floating (even in places with gravity), sweets, music, discovering things, puns

Dislikes: Being flustered (complete lie), being picked up or hugged by people they don't know, others invading their personal space (heh), spicy food

Strengths: Use of gravity, ability to float, shortcutting

Weaknesses: Being flustered, being on solid ground for more than a day (it's like seasickness or virtigo)

Soul Color: White(?) (Thinking of making their soul connected to the star they're named after. If one dies, so does the other)

Alignment (Neutral good, chaotic evil. ect): Neutral good

Goals/Purpose: Charting their universe, discovering other Outer AUs

Job: Navigator

Carried Items:

- Small USB looking device that can turn into a tablet. Uses it to take pictures and chart their universe.

- Small scanner to identify unknown objects.

- Small box of snacks

Powers/Attacks:

In Outer coded worlds-

- Meteor Shower: Summons a flurry of rocks to pelt their opponents

- Gaster's Comet: Takes the place of a regular Gaster Blaster. Summons a large comet to hit their opponents. Can only use it twice and can only summon one at a time as it uses up a lot of magic.

- Star Flash: Able to create small stars/constellations in their hands to blind or disorient their opponents. Can create them that can't blind others.

- Gravity Manipulation: While on a surface with gravity (planet, space station) they can manipulate the gravity of others, themselves, and objects.

- Space "Flying": Uses small space rocks to propel them through space (think Iron Man with his hand and feet boosters).

- Shortcutting: Can create a small nebula cloud to move through to another point.

In other AUs-

Basic bone attacks

- Gaster Blasters: Can only summon two at a time.

- Gravity Manipulation

- Star Flash

- Shortcutting

Weapons: Is able to summon long bones, sometimes summoning them sharpened at one end. Sometimes will carry a ray gun with them.

Fighting Stlye: Has little to no fighting experience. If put into the position of fighting, they prefer to disorient their opponent(s) with stars, before fleeing. If still forced to fight, they will use their meteor and comet attacks, before using their long bone weapon.

Facts:

• Is constantly floating. It's very rare to see them standing on solid ground. Walking and running is slightly awkward to do for them sometimes.

• Floating upside-down doesn't bother them.

• Loves finding and looking a nebulas. Will stare at them for long periods of time.

• Visits a black hole in the middle of their universe. It's somehow been rendered immovable and they keep their distance from its event horizon. They find it unnerving but fascinating.

• Lives on a space station near the star they were named after.

• Is able to freely travel to other Outer AUs.

• While on/in a place with gravity, being near Sheratan causes loose clothing, jewelry, hair, and small inanimate objects to float a little. Doesn't affect living beings themselves.

• Introverted and socially anxious. Enjoys being by themselves, but often feels empty in the vastness of their universe. Visits other AUs sometimes to help alleviate these feelings.

• Will fidget with the floof on their gloves, mess with their scarf, or create small stars and constellations in their hands if their anxiety is becoming too much.

• Me blasting Lost in Space by Derivakat on repeat

• Constellation pattern on scarf constantly moves.

[ao3komorii]

The Silver Path (Spirit Blossom Thresh/Reader)

It is finally here! Just a note for people who played the spirit blossom event, I’ve decided to make Thresh more subdued/shy than he was in that event. Sort of a “what if instead of holding a grudge against Ahri after their conflict, he just got sad.” Nevertheless, hope you enjoy! Just as a note, there is smut at the end :)

-----

Checking one final time that you hadn’t forgotten anything, you folded the cloth over the carefully-packed items before picking up the woven basket. You could not risk forgetting even one tribute, as angering even one spirit would spell doom for the village; your grandmother had stressed that very severely when she had trained you. Leaving your home, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, even if this wasn’t the first time that you had made this trip.

You had been the village’s spirit guardian for six months now, ever since your grandmother had passed away. You hadn’t felt ready when the role had been passed to you, but you had no choice. It was probably for the better that you had no choice but to step into the role, since you doubted that you would ever feel truly ready for the responsibility that was now yours.

Mount Targon was tall, the tallest mountain in Runeterra by far, and also the most treacherous. Travelers came from places near and far to ascend to the peak, having heard of the mystic mountain that promised to open the heavens before any mortal that successfully made it to the top.

Many tried, and many failed, their bodies destined to never leave the mountain where their bodies had given out. The upper reaches of the mountain were unlivable, and nearly unclimbable, fraught with winds and storms and plagued by avalanches. The display of cosmic radiance offered by the peak would not be easily attained, and yet people would never stop trying.

Despite living far below the mountain’s peak in a small valley to the south, you were still not safe from its wrath. You had never experienced it yourself, but long ago, even the lower parts of the mountain had been uninhabitable. The area had been plagued by rockslides and inhabited by vicious animals, but the patience and determination of your ancestors had won out in the end.

It had all started when an ancestor of yours had climbed the mountain path in search of a way to make the land livable, but had instead found a door. On the other side of the door, they had discovered a passage to the world of spirits, and had bowed low, begging for their protection. In exchange, the spirits asked for a tithe to be paid every month when the moon was at its highest in the sky.

And since then, once a month a representative of the village would walk the spirit path to bring each spirit a gift, and in turn, your village would be protected. The responsibility had been passed down through your family, and as you were the last one of your family left after your grandmother had died, the task now fell to you.

There were ten spirits in all, and each had their own tastes. Your grandmother would never tell you what she brought them, insisting that you would have to develop your own relationship with the spirits by learning their preferences on your own. You had been terrified the first time you had walked the spirit path, leaving small trinkets you had knitted for the spirits, but to your great relief, no boulders or storms had struck your village in the days after. When you had returned the next month, some spirits had taken your gifts, and some had not, so you knew to bring a different gift to those pedestals the next month.

While you had never seen the spirits, you began to get a sense of what they liked; the spirit of the snake altar liked jewels and other shiny objects, the mushroom altar spirit liked small toys, and the antler altar spirit liked vegetables. Most of the spirits would accept whatever you brought, but a select few hadn’t accepted any yet, which had been a frustrating experience for you. But they hadn’t revoked their protection, so you assumed that they were willing to be patient with you until you presented them with something they liked.

Keeping your head down as you passed by the other residents of the village, you made your way to the base of the mountain. As you ascended the gentle incline, you went over the all-important rules in your head; enter no earlier than ten at night, and leave no later than midnight. The spirit gate was only open for two hours each month, and if you didn’t leave in time, you would be trapped in the spirit world for a month until the gate reopened. It had only happened a few times in the long history of your people’s time here, but nobody who had gotten stuck in the spirit realm had ever returned, which was more than enough of a deterrent for you.

You paused as you approached the spirit gate; you were a few minutes early, as was your usual routine, so now there was nothing to do but wait for the gate to open itself up to you. You could only hope that at least one of your previously-rejected gifts had been accepted this time, but the spirits could be finicky.

As you stared at the metal archway that made up the gate to the spirit world, the open space of the archway began to glow. The glow got more and more solid, and soon you were standing in front of a swirling door; pinks, blues and purples flowed around each other, making the doorway almost look like the surface of a mystical lake. As you stepped into the magical doorway, you reminded yourself again of the last rule, be out by midnight. You had done this before, you could do it again.

As always, you found yourself standing at the start of a path made of silver light. You stared out at the colorful forest that now surrounded you, the silver path winding around the cherry blossom trees as it led towards the shrines of the spirits. As you began to walk forward, basket of tokens in hand, you kept your focus on the path ahead.

Your grandmother had stressed that you were never to leave the path, no matter the circumstance. The path kept you on track, and more importantly, unseen.

The spirits were not the only ones to inhabit this world; while this was a place for spirits, it was also inhabited by azakana, the race of demon spirits that fed on human suffering. You had never seen the spirit deities, but you had on occasion caught sight of dark shapes moving around the trees, the shadows alone sending shivers along your skin.

While you were on the path, they could not see you, and they could not touch you. You had heard too many stories about azakana as a child from your grandmother; stories of azakana ripping people apart, swallowing them whole… you had heard more than enough to do everything you could to avoid contact with the vicious creatures. Part of you wondered if that was what had happened to the spirit guardians who never returned, but you tried not to dwell on it. You could think about the dangers of the azakana when you were safely back in your village.

Trying to calm your mind, you took the opportunity to admire the scenery as you walked along the path. Even as dark as it was, the light pink trees were undeniably beautiful, the petals that fell around the path creating a scene that looked straight out of a painting.

The forest was dense with trees, but your path remained clear of even petals or dirt, the silver under your feet glowing with celestial light. You took notice of small animals as they roamed the forest, your attention focussing in on an unnaturally-colored fox as it walked along the thick root of a tree before disappearing from sight. While you couldn’t help but want to observe the unique landscape of the spirit realm, you did not stop walking. Your time here was finite, and you knew that you could not afford to get caught up in the beauty of this place, not unless you wanted this forest to be your tomb come midnight if you did not leave on time.

As the trees began to thin out, you caught sight of the short wooden bridge that would take you across the river and to the first of the spirit temples. You approached the shrine to find it empty, as it always was, absent of even the small animals that roamed the forest.

You had been by here six times before, long enough for you to feel at least somewhat comfortable navigating your way around. The silver path led you right up to a purple pedestal decorated with a vibrant snake made of gems that were deeply embedded in the stone of the podium. Coming to a stop at last, you opened up your basket with a small smile; at least the snake spirit was easy to choose gifts for.

Reaching into the basket, you pulled out a small brooch in the shape of a tied ribbon. It was made of pure silver and dotted with brightly-shining gems. You had spent a while selecting it, so you hoped that the spirit would accept it. The bracelet you had left last time had been taken, which gave you a nice burst of confidence. You could only hope that the rest of your gifts from last month had been accepted as well.

Placing the brooch in the center of the pedestal, right on top of the jeweled snake’s body, you closed the basket, turning to continue on the path. You had nine more shrines to visit after all, and a restrictive window of time.

If you remembered correctly, the next shrine was the one with twin swords carved into its pedestal. One of the tough ones. Not one of the gifts you had left there had been accepted. With no other option, you were left to keep guessing, bringing a different thing each time in hopes it would be accepted.

As you approached the simple stone pedestal, you were surprised to see it empty. Your excitement quickening your steps, you hurriedly approached the temple, heart soaring as you looked down at the twin blades carved into the ancient-looking stone.

You stared at the simple carving, willing yourself to remember what it was you had brought last time. After a moment of thought, you recalled placing a simple wooden flute on the pedestal, more out of desperation than anything. You weren’t sure what about the flute the spirit was interested in, but you were relieved that one of the more picky spirits had accepted one of your gifts at last.

Reaching into your basket, you pulled out a delicately-carved wooden bird. Hopefully the fussy spirit would like the bird, but even if you came back next month to a rejection, you knew now that the spirit had an interest in musical instruments. You were starting to see what your grandmother had meant when she had said you would come to get an understanding of each spirit’s personality, even if you still had yet to have all of the spirits accept a gift from you.

After placing the wooden bird on the pedestal, you bid farewell to the shrine, walking towards the slender purple trees that denoted the next spirit’s domain. This spirit had the most unusual symbol – a horned mask that was reminiscent of a demon. You had no idea what the spirits actually looked like, but had no desire to meet the spirit of this shrine, afraid that their symbol denoted a demonic personality as well.

It didn’t help that the forest that led to his shrine was impossibly dark and dense. Unlike the domains of the other spirits, you had never seen an animal in this forest, just dark trees that loomed over you with branches like forked lightning, blocking much of the already-dark sky overhead.

Despite the scary appearance of this spirit’s domain, they had accepted all of the gifts that you had brought so far. As scary as this place was, you were relieved that you likely didn’t have to worry about this particular spirit taking their wrath out on you or your people for a lack of gifts they deemed acceptable.

After a few minutes of walking, the darkly-colored temple of the demon mask spirit finally began to show through the trees. You continued to walk towards the temple, eyes focussed on the small building’s sloping roof, when you were stopped by a tug on your long ceremonial skirt.

Turning back, you found one side of your skirt caught on a thorned branch that ran along the ground. With an annoyed sigh, you pulled gently at your skirt, wanting to avoid ripping your skirt in the process of disengaging yourself from the vine.

You felt annoyance rise up in you when your gentle tugs did nothing to free you, your skirt still firmly ensnared by the thorns. You sighed; you really didn’t have time for this, not with how many more temples you still had to visit.

Putting down your basket, you took hold of your skirt with both hands and gave it a harsh tug, resolving to just repair the skirt later if it ripped. When one hard pull failed to free you, you began to yank repeatedly at the fabric, knowing that it would be a bad idea to reach your hand outside of the path to grab the vine itself.

After at least a minute of pulling on your skirt, you were getting desperate. The skirt’s material was too tough to rip easily, and you didn’t have a knife on you to tear it with. The only weapon you had on you was a small stone ball wrapped in a prayer scroll, an old weapon used to scare off azakana that your grandmother had said you must always have on you while in the spirit realm. You had thought it was silly, but she had insisted, despite never encountering an azakana herself even though she had been the spirit guardian for so much of her life.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you resolved to give it one last try, and then you would have to just take off the skirt. As unhappy as you would be to do the rest of the walk with just underwear and shoes on your lower half, getting stuck in this place would be infinitely worse.

Both hands gripping onto your skirt, you took a deep breath as you braced yourself, and then pulled hard. Unlike the past few minutes, this time your skirt was dislodged immediately, as if it had never been stuck in the first place.

You had expected a fight of it, and had yanked on your skirt so hard that it coming free easily threw you entirely off balance. The long skirt did you no favors as you stumbled on it, trying to right your balance, but the fabric won out in the end as you stumbled back into your forgotten basket, causing you to trip and fall backwards with a surprised yell.

You closed your eyes reflexively as you fell backwards, your back immediately uncomfortable as you fell back against what felt like a large tree root. But the stinging of your back was nothing compared to the explosion of sound and sight you experienced as you opened your eyes.

The spirit realm had always been silent and still, but now it was anything but. The previously-quiet skies were now filled with the most horrifying creatures you had ever seen, demonlike bodies twisting in the skies as they let out inhuman screeches and growls. The trees too were infested by many-limbed azakana, their claws digging into the bark of the trees. Eyes wide with terror, you were confused as to why this was happening all of a sudden… at least until your eyes focussed in on the silver path just ahead of you.

You shot up with a gasp. You had fallen off the path, broken one of the only rules your grandmother had set for you, and now you were seeing why it was so important.

You had to get back there before any of them saw you. If you attracted the attention of even one of these demons, you were dead for sure.

Your skirt still tripping you up, you scrambled forward on your hands and knees, desperate to get yourself the few feet it would take to get back onto the silver path. Your fear began to morph into relief as your hand reached the path, followed by the rest of your upper body. You quickly made to crawl the rest of the way back onto the path, glad to have the momentary terror behind you, when you were startled by a painfully tight grip on your ankle.

Before you could react, you were yanked backwards, your attempts at gripping onto the ground futile as you were suddenly thrown back in the air. You landed harshly on the ground, the wind knocked out of you, whole body burning with pain.

Sitting up with a groan, you flattened your back against a tree in fear as you took in the approaching form of the most horrifying creature you had ever seen.

It had the body of a worm, but it was at least fifty feet long and twice your width. It loomed over you, its giant body writhing with excitement that was plain on its face. While its body was that of a worm, it had the face of a demon. Wide yellow eyes, pupilless and oversized for its face stared you down, its jaws open wide, teeth as long as your fingers gleaming even in the dark. Its face was blood red, nose two slits on its face while several horns protruded from the crown of its head.

Looking around, you realized that you had nowhere to run. With a tree at your back and this thing’s massive body blocking the way back to the path, you were trapped. Eyes darting around, you tried to find something, anything that would help you, but all you could see were the dark trees; that, and the azakana around you had all stopped their screeching to stare hungrily at the scene before them.

As you were desperately pondering a way out of this situation, the giant worm began to close in on you, eager to claim its prey. As you squirmed against the tree, a small thump against your thigh reminded you of the protection stone you had sitting in your skirt’s pocket. If you threw it at the creature, it could give you enough time to escape back to the path and get yourself out of this nightmare.

You reached quickly into your pocket, but the movement seemed to spurn the azakana into action as well as it quickly darted towards you. You managed to throw the stone, but cried out in pain as one of the demon’s horns impaled your shoulder at the same time.

Upon hitting the creature, the stone broke apart into silver smoke that quickly filled the area. The azakana jerked back with a shriek as soon as the smoke hit it, fleeing as fast as it could. Its cries of agony were not the only ones to pierce the air; the smoke quickly spread around the forest, causing the rest of the azakana to flee when it came near them. Soon their cries faded and you were left alone and bleeding, vision obscured by the thick smoke.

You clutched your shoulder, your fingers becoming quickly soaked by your own blood as you gritted your teeth from the pain. You braced yourself against the tree, slowly standing up, keeping a hand pressed to your still-bleeding wound. You desperately tried to seek out the path with your eyes, but you were feeling increasingly dizzy the more blood you lost.

Your vision was growing shakier by the second as you pushed yourself off the tree, stumbling in what you believed to be the direction of the path. Every step felt like a mile as you slowly shuffled forward, but you forced your body onward; in your current state, you knew that you were dead if you stopped moving. Your best bet would be to turn back and leave the way you had come in. You would have to bring the other spirits two gifts next time to make up for the empty pedestals they would find tomorrow and hope they would not take their anger at your failure out on your village.

It was hard to pick out a silver path in the midst of the silver fog, but you nearly cried with relief when you spotted the familiar otherworldly silver light peeking through the smoke. You dragged yourself the last bit of the way, strength failing you, and collapsed as soon as you were back in the safety of the path again.

You whimpered, clutching your shoulder as you tried to ignore the searing pain. Looking down, you found your formerly-white shirt red with blood, the material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain, never having dealt with a wound this extreme before.

Letting out a sob as the strain it caused your wound, you forced yourself to your feet again. It was hard to see with all the smoke in your way, but you had to keep moving or you would bleed out long before the azakana would get another shot at you.

Your vision was now so blurry that you felt like you were dreaming, but you pressed onward, following the light of the silver path. If you hurried, you could make it back in time to find a healer, because you knew that you would die without help.

It felt like you had been walking for an hour when the fog that surrounded you had finally cleared, but when it did, you felt like crying. Instead of the two-bladed spirit’s temple, you found yourself staring at the familiar temple of the demon mask spirit. You took a few more stunned steps before collapsing beside the spirit’s pedestal. You had gone the wrong way.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the temple that signalled your own incompetence, or at your blood staining the grass beneath you. This was it; your spirit had become as broken as your body, leaving you with no more strength to move or even open your eyes. You would die here, so far from home and in incredible pain. You could only hope as your consciousness drifted away that you had not doomed your village as well.

 You woke up feeling slightly cold, as if your window had been left open on a chilly night. You kept your eyes closed for another minute, waiting for the aching in your head to fade, finally opening them when your head had stopped pounding.

You weren’t dead, but you didn’t know where you were. The room that you now found yourself in was large, but lacking any furniture other than the futon bed you were laying in. The wall was patterned with a mountain scene that had you transfixed, at least until you realized that you were able to move your shoulder without any pain.

Hurriedly sitting up, you turned to look at your shoulder, seeing a large hole in your shirt, but no gaping wound. The blood that had soaked your clothes was now dry, the only evidence that you had bled at all the stains that covered your clothing. You touched the area where the wound had been, still unable to believe that it had vanished, before you remembered the events that had led up to the wound being inflicted on you.

Had someone found you and brought you back to the village? You weren’t in your home, you knew that much for sure. You had never seen these walls before, not a single note of recognition coming to you as you got up from the futon and began to look around the room.

Seeing no clues, you decided to leave the room. If someone had rescued you, then you needed to thank them. And as much as you didn’t want to, you had to explain what had happened to the village elders. This had been your mistake, and you couldn’t hide from it, not when it concerned the safety of the village.

Leaving the room, you found yourself in an empty hallway. The room that you had been in was the last one in the hallway, so there was only one direction for you to go. You passed a few doors on your way down the hall, but they were all closed, and you didn’t want to intrude on your rescuer’s privacy after they had rescued you from certain death, so you left them be.

“Hello?” you called out when you turned from the hallway into a small entrance room, slightly disappointed to find it empty as well. Where was the owner of the home?

At least this room was less barren, so you took the time to wander around the room and take a look at things while you gave the person some time to return before you headed home.

While there was no furniture in this room either, your gaze was drawn to the lanterns that were hung from the ceiling of the room. They were hung a bit too high for you to reach, so you had to settle for staring at one from below. Even with the height difference, you could tell that they had an odd glow to them that you couldn’t place. You had never seen a lantern glow like that before, and had to avert your eyes when an unsettling feeling that you were having a hard time placing began to creep up on you.

As you turned to look at the doors ahead of you, the feeling began to intensify. Your wound disappearing, the mysterious glow of the lanterns, and the owner of the home’s absence… it was all pushing you rapidly towards a conclusion that you didn’t want to accept.

Slowly, you walked towards the doors, knowing that you would have to open them and either confirm or deny your sudden suspicions. It was hard to believe that someone from your village had come into the spirit world to save you, but you wanted to believe that it was the truth. But each step you took towards the door eroded your confidence more and more, but you had to know.

The door felt cold against your palm, unease swirling in your chest as you stared at the wooden door, knowing you needed to open it, but afraid to know the truth. Cursing your own cowardice, you began to push the door open before you could convince yourself not to, watching as the small sliver of outside grew as you opened the door wide enough for you to slip out of it.

Your hopes were dashed immediately. There was no mistaking the purple of the trees for your small village, nor the unnaturally clean river that flowed around the temple you stood outside of. It was equally as unbelievable as being rescued by one of the villagers; who could have rescued you from certain death in this place? You had never seen a soul here besides the azakana and the small animals that roamed the forests, and neither one of them likely had the desire or means to save your life.

Your chest felt tight as the possibilities swam in your head. Were you dead? You didn’t feel dead, but how else could you have woken up in the spirit realm, your deep wound completely gone?

Now that you knew you were still in the spirit world, you couldn’t just go back into the temple and pretend that everything was alright. But what were you supposed to do? The sun was out, so it was clearly daytime, so there was little chance of the path still being here, not unless your grandmother had lied to you.

It was weird looking out at the spirit world in the daytime; you had only ever seen this place at midnight hours, and found yourself transfixed by the beauty of this world in the daytime as well. The purple trees gleamed in the sunlight, swaying gently with the morning breeze. The whole scene would have been calming, if it weren’t for the fact that no human was ever supposed to see it.

You knew that the path home would not be open for a whole month, and while the thought was depressing, you couldn’t just give up. Just because nobody who had gotten trapped here had ever returned didn’t mean that there was no other way back. You couldn’t fool yourself into being optimistic, but you also weren’t willing to roll over and die without trying to find a way out of here.

Reluctantly, you made your way down the steps, heading towards the pedestal that stood in front of the temple. The carved demonic mask in the stone of the pedestal stared up at you, just as you thought it would. You knew that those distinctive purple trees were only in the demon mask spirit’s territory, but part of you refused to believe that was where you were until you gazed down at the pedestal that could not have belonged to anyone else.

You hung your head as you tried to make sense of what had happened to you. All signs pointed towards someone or something here saving you, but you couldn’t understand why a spirit would save you. From all you knew of them, the spirits did not act unless there was a benefit for them. You let out a sigh, tracing the pedestal carving with your fingers as you pondered your next move.

“Are you alright, little human?”

The deep voice directly behind you combined with a clawed hand on your shoulder startled you back into a hard chest with a gasp. Spinning around so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash, you came face to face with the spirit you had been the most afraid of, the one wearing a golden mask over his face identical to the one carved into the face of the pedestal.

“You… you…” you stammered, backing away from the figure.

You shivered with fear, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continued to back away from the spirit, not taking your eyes off of his intimidatingly large figure.

He was tall, taller than all of the men in your village, but it wasn’t his height that quickened your steps backward. His skin was bright purple, the ridges of his defined chest and abdomen a vibrant fuchsia. You could see none of his face, as it was covered by a golden mask with white slits for eyes and sharp golden teeth. Though now that you thought about it, the mask could <i>be</i> his face; you had never seen a spirit before, so you had no idea what they normally looked like.

His outfit consisted of a short vest and hakama pants, a thick silver braided cord laced through a gold masklike buckle tied around his waist like a belt. Other than two beaded necklaces around his neck, he wore no other accessories. His wild silver hair was tied back, but hung behind him in spikes, two large horns jutting out of his forehead. Overall, he made for a very intimidating figure, each step he took towards you prompting you to take one back.

“I’m sorry for being in your domain,” you fearfully apologized, staring at his mask. “I’ll leave now so you–”

“Stop!” he demanded, the authority in his voice stopping you in your tracks.

You flinched as he pulled a section of cord from the back of his belt, the end of the cord tipped with a large golden hook. Before you could react, he tossed the hook your way, the implement making a sharp noise as it cut through the air. You shut your eyes, too scared to move as you awaited your death for upsetting the fearsome spirit.

A horrific screech from behind you had your eyes flying back open, watching as the spirit’s hook dragged a large dark creature past you and towards himself. Clutching your hands to your chest, you watched as the struggling azakana was yanked towards the spirit, who then slashed at it with his claws, the demon vanishing with an ugly scream.

As soon as the azakana had been killed, the spirit re-stowed his hook before turning his attention back to you. He approached you again, slower this time, his head bowed slightly, and you were struck by the thought that he seemed to be trying to make himself appear less threatening to you. You were so confused by his sudden meekness that you just stared in confusion as he approached you.

He stopped a short distance from you, and now that he was close, you finally took notice of his long ears, longer than any ears you had seen before even on an elf, but now those ears were drooped downwards. The large spirit was silent before you, looking like a kicked puppy.

When he was confident that you weren’t going to run from him, he slowly reached up towards his face, pulling the face plate from his mask away from his face. You were surprised to see relatively normal facial features, minus his large brow ridge where his forehead met his horns. His face was as purple as the rest of him, but his eyes were the most unusual feature of his face, fuchsia where they would be white on a human, his irises white instead. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he didn’t look anything like the monster you had imagined would be under that demon mask.

“I apologize if this form… repulses you,” he said, his long ears still drooped.

How could you have ever thought he was a monster? Seeing how sad he looked, you felt overcome with the need to comfort him.

“No,” you refuted gently. “You don’t repulse me. And… you saved me back in the forest, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he confirmed quietly, seeming awkward under your curious gaze.

“But why would you–”

You were cut off by a loud howl from the forest behind you, and watched as the spirit’s expression turned severe, a deep frown overtaking his features. His gaze flit to something behind you, but before you could turn back to see what he was looking at, you were distracted by him stepping closer to you.

“We must head inside my temple,” he spoke quietly but sternly, his white eyes still on the forest behind you. “It is not safe for you out here.”

Without another word, he turned to retreat towards the temple, your eyes drawn to the shiny gold hook on the back of his belt, the same hook he had used to draw the azakana to him earlier before he had clawed it in half. As unnerving as his appearance was, he had saved your life more than once now, so after a short moment, you shelved your reservations about him for now and scurried after him. You heard another demonic howl as you retreated, but were too scared to look behind you as you climbed up the steps to the temple, following behind the spirit as he entered.

Entering the room, you found the spirit standing in the middle of the room, facing you. Feeling unsure, you slowly entered the temple, flinching when the door shut by itself as soon as you had walked through it. You looked back at the doors in disbelief before turning back to face the purple-skinned spirit, but were surprised again to find a different man in his place.

“Who–” you gasped, backing up, watching as the handsome man’s face was overcome by surprise and concern.

He stepped towards you but then froze, lowering his hand to his side. The motion brought your eyes down to his hand, frozen beside a very familiar corded belt. There were clear differences; the end of his hakama was now lined with gold trim, and the rips in his collar and the tails of his belted sash were absent, but it was undeniably the outfit that the purple spirit had been wearing. Unchanged as well were the two horns that protruded from his head, still the vibrant shade of deep purple melding into fuchsia.

Whereas before you were afraid to look at him, now you couldn’t look away. The gold demon mask he had worn was gone, so now there was nothing obstructing his otherworldly handsome face. His eyes now looked like a normal human’s, minus his now-fuchsia irises, his skin now pale instead of the bright purple it had been. His formerly-silver hair still hung back in spikes, but the now-dark-purple locks also hung over his forehead and fell to the sides of his face. In all, he was absurdly handsome, his visage well-befitting the title of a spirit.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Your eyes met his, and you felt your cheeks flare up with shame and embarrassment. Here he was looking genuinely concerned for you when you had been busy checking him out. You noticed that his ears had drooped again in worry, which was not helping you try to focus on something other than how cute he was.

Realizing that you should probably answer him, you nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t expect your appearance to change so suddenly so I was… surprised.”

“I apologize,” he said, eyes flitting to the ground. “I understand that a demon’s appearance would be distressing to a human.”

“No!” you interjected, not wanting to make him look so sad, but also not wanting to have to own up to your blatant ogling. In the end, the spirit’s downturned eyes and drooping ears got to you, your cheeks pink in anticipation of what you were about to admit to. “It’s just… you’re much more handsome than I expected of a spirit with a demon mask for a totem.”

It was his turn to turn pink, his eyes looking up to meet yours, mouth open slightly in surprise. He smiled shyly, the sight not helping your soaring heartbeat.

“Lost souls run from me, so I feared that you would be the same,” he admitted.

You silently admitted to yourself that you could see why, given how intimidating his more demonic form looked. Not wanting to keep the mood in the room so down, you decided to change the subject and maybe get some answers at last, but were surprised when he spoke up first.

“You are welcome in my temple, little human. I am called Thresh.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting such a formal introduction, but gave your name in return with a small bow of your head. From all that you had been told as a child, a spirit’s temperament was fickle at best, and you were desperate to not offend the spirit before you, even if he hadn’t done anything to you up to this point.

Another horrible screech from outside the temple, sounding closer than before, had Thresh tensing up slightly. “Before I answer your questions, there is something that must be done first.”

The sounds outside were only growing louder and closer; it sounded like an army of azakana were approaching. You were so distracted by the noises that you failed to notice Thresh approaching you until he had taken one of your hands in his. With a quiet gasp, you looked down at your hand, his purple clawlike nails gently resting against your hand. Looking up from your hand, you found Thresh staring intently at you, the seriousness in his eyes catching you off guard.

“I must offer you my protection. It is the only way to keep the azakana at bay. Do you agree?” he spoke, leaving you feeling frozen under his intense gaze.

You couldn’t help but feel like there was some hidden meaning in his words that you were not understanding, but with the cries of the azakana getting closer, you didn’t have time to ask.

“I agree,” you spoke quickly, just wanting the azakana to go away.

Thresh nodded once before placing his other hand, the one covered in striped blue fabric up to his biceps, over the back of your hand. You watched as a purple glow surrounded his hand, and then engulfed your own hand. Your hand began to feel cold, <i>too</i> cold, but Thresh’s tight grip on you didn’t allow you to pull away. That, and your hand was feeling more numb by the second.

Just when the sounds of the demons outside were getting too close to bear, Thresh let go of your hand and the noises outside stopped all at once. Looking down at your hand, you found the previously-unmarred skin now bore a familiar mark… the same mark engraved into the stone pedestal just outside the temple. The purple demon mask laid on your skin like a tattoo, but it hadn’t hurt like you had heard they did; even the cold you had felt had quickly faded once Thresh had released your hand.

“My mark will protect you as long as you are within this temple or close to me,” Thresh explained.

Yesterday, the mask on your hand would have been terrifying, but now the sight brought you comfort; it was the only reason you weren’t being torn apart by azakana right now. But more than anything, you felt curious; why would a spirit go out of his way to protect you? There were lots of humans in your world; it wouldn’t be unusual for a spirit to view a human life like humans would view a bug.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked at last, at least a little proud that you had got the words out without stuttering.

“You are the human gift bringer, are you not?” Thresh answered your question with a question of his own, waiting for your stunned nod before continuing. “Your gifts have been a comfort a demon like me does not deserve. I could not allow such a precious mortal to die at the claws of the azakana.”

“How did you know I brought those gifts?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. As soon as you had spoken the words, you were kicking yourself; you were the only human that came to this world, at least to your knowledge, it was obvious how he knew who you were.

Thresh didn’t look annoyed, as you feared he would, but instead looked happy to answer your question. “Your aura is the same one that surrounds the items you leave. I could never mistake your aura for another.”

You couldn’t do much other than stare at him, astonished at the warmth in his voice. The thought of a spirit knowing of you personally was almost too much to comprehend. Your hands went to the collar of your shirt, needing something to fiddle with to settle your nerves, but you quickly retracted your grip on the material when you felt the unpleasant starch the dried blood lent to the fabric. Now that you thought about it, the shirt felt heavy and uncomfortable against your skin, the darkened ruddy red-brown color now a reminder of just how close you had come to dying. That, and your skin was still stained with dried blood as well; looking down at the red under your nails, you realized what a sight you must be right now. If anything, Thresh had more reason to be repulsed by your current appearance than the other way around.

As scared as you were to impose any further on him, you were just as reluctant to spend a month covered in your own blood. “Is there somewhere here where I can bathe?”

You felt bad asking, but you reminded yourself that it had to be done. If he said no, then that was that, but you had to try for your own sake.

Thresh looked pensive for a moment. “There is the lake of souls.”

You jolted at the ominous-sounding name. “Is that safe?”

“It is the place new human souls appear when they come to this world after death,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I have not gone there in so long. It is not a place for a creature such as I, undeserving of its essence. However, the waters there are safe for bathing in.”

Thresh walked past you to the temple doors, and you turned to follow him, eager for a bath, even if it was in some odd soul water. Thresh raised a hand to the door, but seemed hesitant to open it. You stared at his back, unsure of what to say, when he turned his head back to face you, that same sad look back on his face.

“I must warn you; outside of this temple, I do not have the power to maintain this form. I apologize if you find me distasteful to look at.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, quietly feeling sorry for the spirit. He seemed infinitely more bothered by his appearance than you were, which helped you to feel more comfortable around his purple-skinned form. You could never have imagined a spirit would be so meek.

You followed Thresh outside, but hesitated at the bridge that led over the river and towards the forest of purple trees, the trauma of being attacked by an azakana in that forest last night stopping you in your tracks with fear.

Thresh was halfway across the bridge when he noticed that you had not followed, turning back to cautiously approach you. He had forgone his golden mask, leaving only the metal along his jaw, so you could see the worry in his expression as he stopped before you, offering you his gloved hand.

“I promise that you are safe. While you are under my protection, the azakana cannot see you,” he spoke with earnest.

You stared at his hand for a moment before reaching out to grab it with the hand that was emblazoned with his mark, the purple horned mask shimmering under the morning light. Thresh grinned happily when you took his hand, his grin only half visible under the lower half of his golden mask. You weren’t sure if the golden metal that covered his lower face and the top of his ears could be removed or not, but you didn’t want to draw attention to his appearance, so you let him lead you across the bridge and into the forest.

Despite your initial apprehension, you found yourself admiring the beauty of the spirit world in the daytime. The colors were so much more vibrant, the entire forest seeming so much more alive than it had before. Even the animals seemed livelier, soft noises of life reaching your ears from the oddly-colored animals that called this forest their home.

While you could not be seen by the azakana, if Thresh were to be believed, the animals were a different story. You even caught sight of that odd little fox you saw on your visits sometimes sunbathing on a rock, its teal tail spread out below it, the tip falling to the ground. It looked very relaxed, until you caught sight of its ear twitching before its eyes opened and it stared directly at you, almost as if it wanted you to know that it had caught you staring.

Its gaze made you feel too exposed, like it knew something that you didn’t. You turned your attention elsewhere, not wanting to attract even the attention of a fox in this place. Now that you knew you were visible to the animals here, you wondered what other things lived in this place alongside the ones you had seen before. They lived in the spirit world though, so it was not a guarantee that they were as harmless as they seemed, which you would have to keep in mind if you wanted to leave this place alive in just under a month.

A whole month in this place. The full extent of your situation began to sink in, leaving you with more questions than you had answers for. Was Thresh even willing to put up with for you a month? And what would you do for food or water while you were here? You had no answers, but decided not to press for them until after your skin was no longer stained with your own blood. You had not felt so thoroughly unclean in so long, the desire to be clean again overriding all other desires at the moment.

Thresh led you through the forest until the trees began to thin out, leading to an area of mossy rocks surrounding a large body of clear water. The area was silent, but it was a tranquil silence, the area seeming to radiate a calming energy that helped to soothe your still-frazzled nerves.

“The lake of souls,” Thresh introduced with a sad look in his eyes that confused you. What about this beautiful place made him look so melancholy?

“Is it okay to bathe here?” you asked warily, watching the gentle ripples in the water’s surface. “This place seems too sacred to dirty by bathing in it.”

Thresh shook his head. “This place exists for human souls, therefore it also exists for human souls that are still living as well.”

You were still reluctant, but decided that it was better to give in and bathe here rather than stay filthy for a month. You walked towards the water’s edge, stopping just short of the lake’s gentle waters. You turned your head back, expecting Thresh to have at least turned his back to give you some privacy, but he stood in the same spot, still staring expressionlessly out at the lake.

You were about to call out to him when a sudden noise from the water behind you startled you. You looked back at the water, unsure of what was happening, an odd disturbance in the middle of the lake catching your notice immediately.

What looked like a very small tornado had appeared on the surface of the lake, some sort of a bright light at its center. You stared, puzzled by the strange display before you. You had no frame of reference for any part of this situation; you had been the spirit guardian for only six months, and it was abundantly clear to you how little you knew of the spirits and their world.

You leaned forward, squinting slightly as you tried to figure out what was happening, when suddenly the small tornado turned scarlet red and furious, the inner glow burning red hot. You backed away from the water with a gasp as what sounded like a high-pitched scream rang out across the lake; whipping your hair around with a burst of slightly-too-warm air.

You couldn’t scramble away fast enough, terrified by this strange entity, unsure if its next move would be to charge at you or not. Thresh had said you were safe from azakana while under his protection, but this thing didn’t look like any of the azakana you had seen last night.

“Thresh, what is that?” you asked, voice quiet and frightened.

“A disquieted soul,” came his solemn answer. “It has not accepted its death and is rejecting its new form.”

“What?” you breathed. That sounded awful. How horribly could this person have died to come to the spirit world in such a state? “Can you help him?”

Thresh was silent, eyes unfocused, like he was somewhere else entirely, only snapping out of his thoughts when you called his name again. He turned his back to the lake, the motion making the beads around his neck knock against his chest.

“I can do nothing for him,” he said at last.

“What?” you began, worry bleeding to frustration. “But you’re a spirit. Your job is to guide human souls in the afterlife.”

“…not anymore,” he murmured, chin drooping along with his ears. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine his eyebrows sunken in despair just by the tone of his voice.

The soul was still in panic, and you couldn’t just leave them like that, even though Thresh seemed perfectly content to ignore the problem. You had always pictured the spirits as omnipotent beings that cared for human souls, allowing their loved ones to rest knowing they were in a better place in death, but watching the spirit before you dismiss the soul’s pain snapped something within you.

“We bring you offerings in exchange for your protection!” you shouted, watching Thresh’s back tense up in surprise. “Protection in this life and the afterlife. If you let that soul suffer, then you don’t deserve the gifts I’ve brought you!”

He finally turned to face you at last, and now you could see the sorrow in his white eyes. “I am unworthy of my position, I was enlightened of that long ago.”

“Somebody told you that you couldn’t help souls?” you asked.

He answered your question with a single nod of his head. “My involvement will only make things worse.”

You felt bad for him, but didn’t find yourself believing what he did about himself. He didn’t seem inherently bad to you, and with nobody around, even a sorry attempt to help would be better than no attempt at all.

“Please, Thresh,” you implored the spirit, determined to try at least one more time. “That soul is hurting and it needs you. Will you please try to help?”

You could see on his face that he was wavering, but eventually his eyebrows lifted, expression shifting to one of stony determination as he walked past you to the edge of the water. “Very well. I will try.”

“Come to me, my child,” he spoke to the soul, and you were stunned by how his voice filled the area despite being no louder than his normal speaking voice.

Despite being thoroughly devoid of knowledge of the spirit world, you could tell that there was power in his words. Deep inside you, you could feel a pull to obey his words and go to him, but you were easily able to ignore the urge. The soul on the lake, however, clearly could not resist as it began to drift closer to where Thresh stood at the water’s edge. You stayed where you were, transfixed by the scene before you but also unwilling to get closer to the fiery soul tornado that was coming your way.

The soul quickly approached Thresh, only calming when he reached out to take it in hand, the tornado dissipating and leaving behind a ball of now-white light. Now that it wasn’t a whirling tornado of fire, the soul looked rather peaceful. You couldn’t understand Thresh’s reluctance to help; he had calmed the troubled soul with only a touch, so how had he come to believe that he was so incapable of helping souls?

With his other hand, Thresh raised the lantern that was usually attached to his roped belt, the soul gently drifting inside before leaving the lantern as a soft purple wisp. The lantern lit up with a bright glow, and for a moment, you watched Thresh’s appearance flicker back to his more humanlike side, his pale skin and deep purple hair visible for only a short moment before his form returned to its usual demonic appearance.

Thresh stared down at his lantern for a long moment before finally stowing it back on his belt and turning his attention back to you. “The waters are now calm.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why he still looked so sad even after he was able to subdue the restless soul, but quickly pushed your curiosities down inside you; you had already yelled at him, and you didn’t want to push your luck by pressing him with questions and end up having him revoke the protection that he had blessed you with.

You passed the silent spirit with a small nod, waiting until he walked into the trees before you approached the water. You couldn’t see him in the trees and could only hope he hadn’t forgotten about you and left. You hadn’t been around him very long, certainly not long enough to understand him beyond a superficial level.

You removed your shirt first, wincing with disgust as you peeled the fabric off, dried blood having stuck it uncomfortably to your skin. Laying your clothes out next to the water, you were astounded that you had survived that much blood loss. Obviously Thresh had intervened and saved you, but you were surprised you had lived long enough to be saved in the first place. It was only by Thresh’s intervention that you were here in this place as a human and not a ball of light like the soul on the lake, and how had you repaid him? By freaking out on him and then yelling at him. It was a miracle you were still standing after showing such disrespect for a spirit.

You thought a quiet apology as you got into the water, feeling bad that you were dirtying such a sacred place with your blood, at least until you noticed that the red seemed to disappear the second it hit the water. With wide eyes, you tried again, wiping a wet hand across your shoulder and watching as the supernaturally-pure water made the flecks of dried blood disappear, the water once again clean. You let out a relieved sigh as you continued to wash yourself, glad that you didn’t have to worry about sullying the sacred lake with your blood.

You dunked your head under the water, allowing the water to wash away all of the grime that had accumulated in it since you had come to this place. Coming back up for air, you took another look at your shoulder, still not fully able to believe your fatal wound was gone. Running a hand over the spot, you could barely believe it had been run through with an azakana’s horn if you hadn’t watched it happen and felt the horrible pain yourself.

As you thought back to being surrounded by azakana, you suddenly felt all-too-exposed, naked and alone in the wide open area of the lake. Looking around, you didn’t see anything, not even an animal, but you still felt uneasy. Now wanting to be done as soon as possible so you could return to Thresh’s side, you quickly grabbed your clothing from the lakeside, doing your best to get the blood out of the fabric.

Your clothing was soaking wet, but the white fabric was only dyed very lightly red-brown now, which was better than it had been before. There was not much you could do about the large hole in the shoulder of your shirt, but you felt better knowing you wouldn’t be wearing clothing that was half soaked in your own blood.

Walking up to the treeline, you hesitated to enter the trees alone, instead calling out for Thresh at a volume you hoped he would hear, but not anyone or anything else that might be nearby. You were trying not to jump at every little sound, even though you were not fully sure what it was that you were afraid of in the bright light of the early afternoon.

You weren’t left waiting long, as Thresh quickly appeared from behind some trees, his expression neutral. At least he wasn’t looking as sad as he had at the lake, but that didn’t mean that you had any idea about how you were supposed to interact with him after your outburst. That, and you still had no idea what would happen to you for the rest of the month you were stuck here for. You didn’t know if spirits ate or slept, but you wouldn’t survive long without either. Thresh had offered you his protection, but that didn’t mean that he intended to put up with a live human in his space for a full month.

As nervous as you were, you forced yourself to speak up. “I appreciate you bringing me to the lake,” you started, feeling intimidated by Thresh’s lack of expression. “But I was wondering if there was a place here I could stay in for my time here, preferably one with food humans can eat. If you could just point me in the right direction, I won’t impose on you any further.”

The purple spirit’s silver eyebrows drew together in apparent confusion. “You… do not wish to remain with me?”

“Uh…” You hadn’t expected him to look so sad; you would have thought a spirit wouldn’t want to spend a month of their time babysitting a human that was dumb enough to get themselves mauled by an azakana and trapped in the spirit world.

“I understand if it is hard to be around a creature like me,” he spoke, a bittersweet smile on his face. “I will ask another spirit to protect you in my stead. I had not meant to cause you distress with my company.”

The spirit before you seemed so meek, and as he spoke, you realized he also seemed so… lonely. The downward turn of his gaze was enough to propel you forward, one hand on his arm making him look up to you with shock.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought I would be in your way. I would love to stay with you if that is okay.”

You realized that maybe you had laid it on a bit thick as Thresh’s purple cheeks turned bright pink, the pink whites of his eyes turning cyan blue. Panicking, you removed your hand from his arm, hoping it would help him calm down. Was he dying? You hadn’t meant to kill him! You had only been trying to make up for making him so sad, but hadn’t anticipated such an intense reaction from him.

Thresh let out a shaky breath, letting you know that you probably hadn’t killed him. “Your company would be most appreciated, little human. I have been alone for far too long in this place.”

His color gradually returned to normal, which was a relief for you, along with the fact that he looked to be in a much better mood now. You finally felt like you could relax a bit, lips raising in a shy smile; now you just felt embarrassed for overreacting yet again. It was a wonder that Thresh was willing to put up with you.

You followed Thresh back to his temple in silence, but it was a much more comfortable silence. It was a relief to know that you had somewhere to stay for the month, taking one worry away from the pile you had accumulated since coming here.

You followed him out of the forest and across the bridge that led over the river with the unlit lanterns in it. You were content to alternate between looking at the scenery and staring at Thresh’s back, at the still-shining lantern and hook attached to his belt, at least until you re-entered the temple.

The change was immediate; the tattered clothing and bright silver hair shifted, Thresh’s appearance reverting to his humanlike form again. But instead of being nervous, you found yourself thinking about the way his appearance had flickered between forms earlier by the lake, and about what he had told you.

“Thresh?”

The spirit hummed a short reply, turning around to stare at you curiously.

You took in his pale-skinned form, which would have looked deceptively human if not for the elongated ears and horns. “Earlier, at the lake… for a second, you looked like you do now.”

Thresh nodded, the same bittersweet smile from earlier gracing his lips. “You were right, I have not been worthy of the gifts you bring for quite a long time. It is my role here to care for souls, and doing so gives me the power to maintain this form. I have often thought that my hideous form is a fitting punishment for forsaking my duties.”

“You said someone told you that you weren’t capable of helping souls…” He did not deny the statement, so you continued. “But you were able to calm that panicking soul down immediately. I think you’re more capable of helping souls than you think.”

“I did,” he replied after a short silence. “But my past is not so easily forgotten. Come, I will prepare you some tea.”

He turned away, leading you towards the hallway where all the rooms were. It seemed that he intended to avoid the topic, which only made you wonder more why that person had told him that he couldn’t help souls. You had seen him soothe that soul with your own eyes, and you could see no reason anyone would have to take issue with him. But you didn’t want to press him on it further and upset him, so you followed quietly behind him until he stopped at the first door in the hall.

This room looked very similar to the one you had woken up in, the same mountainscape painted on the walls, but the air in this room had a gentle flowery fragrance in the air, likely from the incense that lay on a small white dish in the center of the room. The décor was very simple, with only a small table and some cushions, as well as a small cabinet in the corner.

Thresh approached the cabinet, while you went to take a seat on one of the floor cushions. A small rattle of china brought your attention to Thresh as he approached the table, carrying a tray with a simple deep blue clay teapot and two cups.

Placing the tray down, Thresh looked sheepish. “I apologize for the state of my tea set. I have not had company in several hundred years.”

Just how old was he? You watched as he poured the teapot, surprised when a light green liquid began to pour into the cup. There was no source of water in the room, and you doubted that the tea would last the hundreds of years since he had said he last had company, so it was likely supernatural in nature. You really hoped that eventually you would stop being surprised by every little thing in this place, but it was hard when everything here was just so different to the simple world you lived in.

You waited for him to pour his own tea before taking a sip of yours, a gentle, sweet taste settling on your tongue. The tea was unlike any you had tasted before, like it was flavored with some berry that grew only in the spirit world. Finding you were quite thirsty, your tea quickly disappeared, and you were soon left with nothing but an empty cup.

“Did you enjoy it?” Thresh asked quite eagerly, his own tea yet untouched.

“Yes, it’s lovely!” you answered, caught off guard by his sudden energy.

“I am glad,” he spoke with a soft smile, the sight making your heart skip a beat in your chest. He finally brought his cup to his lips and took a sip, letting out a pleased hum. “It has been too long since I last tasted this.”

“You can’t drink it when you’re alone?” you asked, setting your cup down.

“I can,” he answered. “But spirits do not need to eat or drink, so I only partake when I have company. Drinking this tea alone only reminds me of my solitude, which spoils the flavor.”

You bit your lip as you pondered what to reply. He seemed so casual about his loneliness, like it was something he had long since accepted as fact. You had always thought of the spirits as faceless, omnipotent beings that were so far above humans that they weren’t even comparable. Seeing him now, you did not see the faceless deity you had brought presents to, nor the terrifying spirit that had initially greeted you in front of the temple, but instead a being not so different from yourself.

You understood his feelings well, especially as of late. Your grandmother was the last person you had that you had really felt close to, and you had barely begun your spirit guardian training when she had suddenly died, throwing you into your role before you were ready. The people in town would speak to you, but there were none that you could really connect with, and you knew that they often kept you at arm’s length. Your connection to the spirits was a curse as much as it was a blessing; you had heard whispers around you before suggesting that displeasing you would bring the ire of the spirits upon oneself, as if you were some vengeful warden intent on using the spirits for your own benefit. Just thinking about it made your chest ache with that same loneliness that was in Thresh’s eyes.

Thresh had only simple food on hand, which was fine with you. Food to eat and a bed to sleep in were more than you could have hoped for, but Thresh seemed happy to play host to you.

You weren’t content to just sit around and be catered to by someone who had saved your life and gotten nothing in return. After you ate, you had gotten to work after finding a broom and some cloths, intent on paying Thresh back for his kindness.

“You are not my servant,” Thresh insisted with a pout from twenty feet away from you.

At first, he had tried to stop you from cleaning his floors, which you had refused, determined to do something for him. Then he had tried to help, but the first swipe of dust from the floor had sent him into such a wild sneezing fit that you had to banish him to the other side of the room, where he was currently trying to protest your cleaning spree from. He had started his fretting only after his sneezes had finally stopped, all while you tried not to giggle at how cute his sneezes were.

“You’re giving me food and a bed,” you replied. “This is the least I can do. And besides, you start sneezing if you even <i>see</i> dust.”

Thresh’s cheeks flushed pink. “I am truly ashamed at how long I have left my temple like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, which turned his ears pink as well as his cheeks, but at least he had finally stopped protesting your cleaning of his temple. He still seemed intent to stay close to you, minus the dust-guarding distance. It was a little silly, but you didn’t mind the company while you worked.

Dinnertime came fairly quickly, the entryway completely spotless when Thresh finally convinced you to stop and eat. He sat across from you at the small table, drinking that same tea as you ate your meal.

“I’m afraid I do not have much food on hand,” Thresh admitted with a frown. “I will have to go fetch more supplies in a few days.”

You nodded, swallowing a bite of rice. “How long will you be gone for?”

“No more than a few hours,” he answered. “The trading post is not too far from here.”

“You have a trading post here?” you asked curiously.

“We do,” he replied simply. “It is where I get this tea from. But I have not gone in a long while. I have not had reason to go until now.”

His words made you worry that you were making him go out of his way, but the small smile on his face helped to relax you. He was a kind spirit, and you didn’t want to annoy him by constantly apologizing for inconveniencing him, so you would allow yourself to accept his kindness for now.

It turned out that Thresh’s bedroom just a few doors down from yours, which came as a great relief to you. You knew that you had his protection, the mark on your hand was enough of a reminder of that, but you were having a hard time fully ridding yourself of your fears, especially alone in your futon late at night.

This bed was not so different than your own one at home, but at the same time, everything felt so different. Even the air here was different; it somehow felt more pure here, and you supposed it made sense. This was a place free of the contamination of your world, as the only people here were the souls of the dead, and you doubted they had any need to breathe anymore.

You eventually fell asleep thinking of your grandmother, of the egg pudding she used to make the morning after she returned from doing her rounds as spirit guardian. You could only wonder what she would have thought of your failure only six months after taking up the post she had held for over fifty years. As you drifted off, you apologized to her in your mind for letting her down.

 As you walked into the entry room a few days later, you found Thresh getting ready to leave, a simple purple bag slung over one shoulder. The bag itself looked like it would hold up, but it was clearly well-used, and could use a good stitching in some parts. You made a mental note to offer to fix it up for him when he came back.

Thresh noticed you immediately, his fingers releasing the bag as he turned to fully face you.

“Have a safe trip,” you said. “I’ll do some more cleaning while you’re gone.”

“You do not have to,” he grumbled, before thinking better of it with a shake of his head. “I will return no later than this evening.”

“Got it,” you replied. You could find something to occupy you until then. It wasn’t like you were going to complain about being lonely when he was only making this trip for your benefit in the first place.

Thresh’s smile quickly faded, face and voice becoming more serious. “While I am gone, do not leave this temple. My protection can only keep you safe from azakana if you are by my side or within my temple. I could not bear it if anything happened to you while I was away, I implore you–”

There were the droopy sad ears again. It would be cute if he didn’t look so upset.

“I won’t leave,” you promised. “I’m not eager to meet any more azakana anyways.”

“But…” He seemed reluctant to leave you. He was even more concerned for you than you were yourself. You had never pictured a spirit to be such a worrier.

“I’ll be fine,” you spoke gently. “You should go now, or you’ll be late getting back and I might be so bored by then that I wander into the forest looking for dirt to sweep up.”

You had meant it to be a joke, but by the alarm in Thresh’s widened eyes, your joking tone hadn’t quite been understood by the highly-stung spirit. Regardless, your words propelled him into action at last as he made his way towards the front door, sliding it open.

As he crossed the threshold, you watched his deep purple hair turn silver again, his demonic form returning as he left the power of his temple. He turned back to face you, still looking vaguely like a kicked puppy.

“I’ll be here when you return,” you insisted. “Now go.”

He nodded once. “You will be… here. It is a strange feeling to have someone waiting for me to return. Strange, but not unpleasant.”

You smiled, giving him a short wave. Thresh returned your smile with his sharp teeth, reaching into a pocket to bring out the face plate of his golden mask and affixing it to his face. His expressive eyes now hidden from your view, Thresh finally turned to head towards the bridge that would take him into the forest.

You watched him go until his tall form was swallowed by the vibrant purple trees, slowly sliding the door closed when you lost all sight of him. You stared at the closed door for a moment before forcing yourself to snap out of it. Thresh was a being of this world, the creatures here did not present the same danger to him as they did to you. He would be fine. And moreover, you had some cleaning to do; hopefully it would tire you out enough for you to keep your mind off of Thresh.

Your own room was fairly empty, and you didn’t want to go into Thresh’s room while he wasn’t there, so for now that left the room where you had drank tea together.

The table was easy enough to clean, and you found yourself tracing a finger over a groove that ran along the length of the small table. Could he have gotten this from the trading post? Or was it just here, like his temple was? You felt like you could ask every question on your mind and still be no closer to understanding how this world worked.

The time passed quickly at first, but began to slow down rapidly after the first hour or two. You only realized how bad it was when you looked down at the cup you were polishing, only to realize it was the same one you had polished an hour ago. Maybe there were less things to occupy your attention here than you had thought.

Maybe a change of pace would help ease away the boredom you were trying to ignore. Getting to your feet, you returned the cleaning items to the cupboard in the entryway, letting out a sigh as you looked over the room.

You were distracted from your moping by a barely-audible noise coming from the direction of the front door. Taking a step toward the door, you heard it again, slightly louder this time. It sounded like something was scratching against the door, but it seemed to be something small.

You were debating what to do when the door was scratched against once more, followed by a low whine that sounded vaguely pained. Thresh had said not to leave the temple, but surely just opening the door would be okay? The creature outside whined once more, and your decision was made. You couldn’t just leave an injured animal outside, especially if it had also been attacked by an azakana like you had been. You would open the door, bring it in, and then close it back up. The plan was nice and simple, which was why it went awry almost immediately.

Sliding the door halfway open, you peeked out, seeing nothing. Perplexed, you wondered if you had been so bored that you were hearing things. It could be possible, but really, anything was possible in this place.

A high-pitched bark had you reconsidering your hallucination theory, looking ahead to see a white fox standing ten or so feet in front of you, staring right at you with supernaturally blue eyes.

As you stared at it, you realized that it looked familiar. Its vibrant teal tail, the bells on a magenta cord tied around its neck… was this the same fox you had seen that night on your walk? The same one that had caught you staring at it when Thresh took you to the lake?

But what was it doing here? Why would a fox go to so much trouble just to get the attention of one lone human?

The fox chirped, ensuring it had your attention before it dashed around the side of Thresh’s temple, disappearing from view. What was it doing? You stared in the direction it had vanished, confused, when another chirp rang out from the side of the temple. The fox would not stop talking at you, which began to make you think… did it want you to follow it?

You were wary, remembering Thresh’s warning, but his temple’s protection should include the temple land as well, wouldn’t it? He hadn’t specified, but the land had to count as well, didn’t it? And the fox was clearly not an azakana, at least it didn’t look like the ones you had seen that night. You didn’t stop to think about it any further, dismissing it as likely alright as you slid the door closed behind you.

“Hello?” you called out as you walked towards the side of the building. “Are you okay, little guy?”

Turning the corner, you expected to see the fox nursing an injury, but found yourself instead face to face with a striking woman in a short kimono.

You jumped back, catching yourself before you could fall down, staring wide-eyed at the magenta-haired woman. She tilted her head slightly as she appraised you, which drew your attention to the large pair of animal-like… <i>fox-like</i>… ears atop her head, which then focussed your attention to the mass of tails that flared out behind her.

“You took long enough,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound angry. “Now, we have to go. I don’t know how long we have until he comes back.”

“He…?” you pondered out loud as the words began to sink in. “Wait, I can’t! Thresh said his protection only works if I stay here!”

“You–” She started, but then cut herself off. “His… protection?”

You brought a hand up to your chest, taking a step back from the strange woman. “I… he…”

The woman moved towards you so fast that you were almost unable to see the movement, snatching your hand and bringing it towards her. You tried to tug your hand back, but her grip was iron as she leaned down to stare closely at your hand. You stared down at her, unease crawling along your skin, when you noticed that it was the hand that bore Thresh’s mark under her grip.

“He gave you… his mark,” she said, voice heavy with confusion. She released your hand at last, and you quickly brought it back to your side, still unsure of what to make of this weirdly intense fox girl.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to estimate your chances of making it back inside before she caught up to you if it turned out that she was here to do you harm. “And why are you here?”

She smiled, and her tails seemed to fluff up behind her like a peacock. “My name is Ahri, and I came here to rescue you from Thresh.”

“From Thresh?” you echoed. Did she know something you didn’t?

“Yes,” she confirmed, sounding unsure herself. “I thought with his history, he may be keeping you here against your will, but…”

“No!” you denied, finding yourself flush with the need to deny her assumption. “I fell off the path and got attacked by an azakana. Thresh saved me and brought me here. He told me this mark would keep me safe until the month is up and I can go home.”

Ahri looked stunned, an expression you assumed she didn’t wear often. Her bright blue eyes looked from your hand that bore the purple demon mask up to your eyes before letting out a sigh. “…I didn’t expect to hear a human defending Thresh.”

What did she mean? Wait, she had mentioned history…

“Are you the one who told him he couldn’t help souls?” you accused quietly, even as your chest trembled at the idea of speaking to a spirit like this. But you had to know what she knew, had to know what had made her decide that Thresh was unworthy of the job you had seen him do perfectly with your own eyes.

“I have known Thresh for a long time,” she began wistfully. “Much longer than your people have been bringing us gifts for. We used to comfort human souls together back then.”

She looked so sad, just like Thresh had that day at the lake.

“But his care for the souls went too far. He began to see them not as mortal souls needing his guidance, but as his own children. He kept them with him, preventing them from experiencing what their souls need to learn in this world. We are here to help human souls, not cage them, and he forgot that,” she explained.

You almost felt tears come to your eyes at her words. It was clear the experience had scarred her as well.

She gave you a sad smile. “I’m relieved that he hasn’t harmed you, but you must come with me. There’s no telling how soon it will be before Thresh falls back to his old ways again.”

She didn’t seem like she was lying, but you still felt like you were being torn in two. Thresh’s face appeared in your mind, the sad expression when he talked about his past the only thing you could think about.

“…I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Ahri sounded incredulous.

“I watched him help a soul,” you said, voice unsteady. “He only did it because I told him he didn’t deserve my gifts if he didn’t. But he calmed it down so easily!”

This time Ahri stayed silent, and you took that as your approval to keep talking. “I think he regrets what he did back then. I don’t think he would hurt me, and I can’t just leave him when he still looks so sad.”

Ahri’s gaze was hard as she silently considered you. The seconds dragged on as you nervously met eyes with her, afraid you had gotten on her bad side. Thresh hadn’t flexed his authority as a spirit over you, but that didn’t mean that Ahri wouldn’t. The longer the silence stretched on, the less sure you were of anything; you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not when she finally spoke up.

“Then… can I ask you to help him?”

“What?” you breathed.

Ahri let out an amused huff at your reaction. “You have more power than you may think. Thousands of years have passed and this is the first time Thresh has willingly left his isolation to help anyone. You may be the key to restoring his faith in himself.”

“But how could I…”

“Talk to him,” Ahri instructed. “Show him that he doesn’t need to confine souls to his side when he has others who care about him. Threaten to withhold his offerings again if you have to.”

Her grin told you she was largely joking about that last one, but that reminded you about something that had slipped your mind over the past few days.

“The gifts…!” you gasped.

Ahri grinned, showing off her sharp canines. “Already taken care of. I found your basket and brought the rest of the presents to the other spirits. I especially liked my new comb.”

You were momentarily stunned, but snapped out of it and bowed your head low. “Thank you! I don’t know what my village would have done if…”

“Raise your head,” Ahri commanded, and you stood up straight again. “I would not allow our deal to be revoked because you were attacked by azakana and unable to finish your route.”

“Still, I appreciate it,” you insisted. “I don’t want to upset spirits who got no gift while others did.”

“I’ve always watched the spirit guardians on their walks,” Ahri said. “This deal is important to us as well. The gifts you bring give us a connection to your world, and brighten our days. I have watched spirit guardians come and go, but I have never seen the spirits as happy as when they receive your gifts. Even Yone has not stopped playing the flute you gave him.”

Yone? So that was the name of the finicky spirit of the twin-bladed temple. It was a relief to know that the gift you had especially agonized over was received well.

“I did try to save you myself, but Thresh got to you first,” Ahri admitted. “With how isolated he’s been for so long, I feared what he would do with you. You are too important to us to allow anything to happen to you before it is your time.”

“Ahri…” You weren’t sure what to say. You had never thought that you would come to mean anything to the spirits here, at least not any more than anyone else who had done the job before you. You were so used to being tolerated that being appreciated felt like a foreign concept.

Ahri let out a contemplative hum. “I want to believe that you can bring Thresh back to who he used to be, but I can’t trust him just yet.”

She reached a hand up, gently removing one of the gold bells that hung on one of her hair accessories, holding the egg-sized bell out to you in her palm.

“If you need my help, just ring that bell and I’ll come,” she explained. “I will respect your wish to stay here with him, but I won’t have you here without help if you need it.”

“Thank you,” you replied nervously, reaching forward to take the bell from her palm.

“I’ll look forward to two gifts next time in return for all my hard work,” she teased, before her smile dropped in favor of a more serious look. “Just remember to be ready to get on the path when the door to your world opens again. Thresh’s protection will only last until the portal to your home is open.”

“I’ll be ready,” you promised her, even if it still felt like forever before you would be able to return to your life as it normally was.

Ahri smiled, the action lifting the pink stripes on her cheeks. “I think you can finally bring him back to us. Every spirit here will owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Not more than I owe Thresh for saving my life,” you admitted honestly. “I’m beginning to think that the spirits have more regard for me than my own people do.”

You weren’t sure why you were being so open with someone you barely knew, much less a spirit, but deep down you suspected it was because Ahri felt like the closest thing to a female friend that you had ever had, as sad as that was to admit to yourself. For her part, Ahri didn’t seem to mind your oversharing, her smile unchanging.

“I will have to ask one more favor of you,” she said, bringing a finger up to her lips. “Don’t tell Thresh I was here. I don’t want him to be distracted by our past, so it’s better he doesn’t know that I came to talk to his little human guest.”

You weren’t so sure that hiding herself from Thresh would benefit him, but you agreed. It seemed to you that both of them cared for each other, but neither one seemed willing to make the first move. Thresh was too buried in his self-loathing, and Ahri seemed to think him seeing her again would be too painful for him. You didn’t know the full extent of their past, but it seemed to you that Thresh would benefit from knowing that other spirits cared about him. But at the same time, you had to respect Ahri’s wishes.

“…if he wanted to talk to you, would you see him?” you asked quietly.

Her blue eyes looked sad. “Of course I would, but I know he won’t want to see my face after all that’s happened between us.”

“Ahri…”

Her ears suddenly perked up and she glanced back over her shoulder quickly. “I can sense him coming back. I have to go.”

She brushed past you before turning back one more time. “I hope you can do what I couldn’t and get through to him. Remember that you hold more power than you think.”

She flashed one last smile before her form changed with a cloud of blue fire, leaving the fox with the teal tail in her place. With a farewell bark, she darted off behind the temple.

When her tail finally vanished from sight, you turned back to face the purple woods ahead of you. If what Ahri said was right, then Thresh would be coming back soon, and he would be expecting to find you inside the temple. You didn’t want to worry him, so you quickly retreated inside, closing the door behind you.

You had picked up the broom for an excuse, but had been so nervous that you had been zoning out staring at it when the front door slid open and your name was called.

You knew that he was coming back, but you were still startled when you looked up to see Thresh standing just inside the doorway, looking concerned. You straightened up, probably too straight, the broom falling from your grasp and hitting the floor with a loud thump.

How were you supposed to act now? You had hardly had any time to process what Ahri had told you, and now Thresh was here, unaware of what had transpired in the last ten minutes.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him, reaching down to pick up the fallen broom.

You looked back up at him, nervous that he would see right through you, but to your surprise, he didn’t ask questions, but instead approached you with a soft smile on his face.

“I am relieved to see you safe,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “You worry too much. You were only gone a few hours.”

He looked like he might continue to fret, so you changed the subject for both of your sakes. “How was the trading post?”

“It was… lively,” he answered. “I hope you did not overwork yourself cleaning my temple.”

“I didn’t do too much,” you answered, allowing yourself to relax at last; Thresh seemed the same as when he had left earlier. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself; of course he was acting normal, he wasn’t the one struggling with the new information that you were.

What Ahri told you did make sense; you had realized pretty early on that Thresh was a lonesome spirit. Hearing that he had kept souls with him instead of letting them go on their soul’s journey had not fully surprised you, but you also hadn’t found yourself as scared as Ahri seemed to think you should be.

You only had a month in this place, was that really long enough to heal all of the pain that Thresh had collected in his heart over a lifetime? Ahri had too much faith in you, you were sure of that, but at the same time, you had meant what you had said; you didn’t want to just abandon him. He was no danger to you, this spirit that would sneeze if he even <i>saw</i> dust and was clearly more nervous around you than you were around him.

You had zoned out again, coming back to see Thresh before you, eyebrows drawn downwards in concern.

“Are you ill?” he asked, placing his ungloved hand against your forehead. “If you require–”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, backing away from his touch, his eyes widening in surprise at your reaction.

He looked a little hurt, which made you feel bad, but before you could apologize, he had moved away from you. You watched as he reached into his satchel, pulling out a small cloth package.

“I have procured you a gift. Hopefully it will help lift your spirits.”

You accepted the package, lifting the cloth folds to find four soft white balls, the sight something you hadn’t seen since your grandmother was alive. “Daifuku…”

“I have been told that they make these at human festivals,” Thresh said. “I was told these ones have strawberries inside.”

…just how your grandmother used to make them. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the first tear fell from your chin, dripping onto the cloth in your hands. You blinked, realizing that your eyes were wet. You had really thought you had finally got over the loss of your grandmother, but seeing the strawberry daifuku, clearly wrapped and prepared with such care, brought your emotions back to where you had been that day six months ago when you had gotten the news.

Your tears had immediately frazzled Thresh, whose eyes went impossibly wide. “Are you… I should not have…”

You brought a hand up to wipe your tears away with your sleeve, sniffling maybe slightly too loudly in your efforts to rein in your sudden burst of emotion.

“It’s not your fault!” you cried out, startling both of you with your sudden volume. “It’s just… my grandmother used to make strawberry daifuku for me before she died. She was… she was the spirit guardian before me.”

Thresh quietly took in the information, staring hesitantly at you. “So you are not displeased?”

You took a further few seconds to compose yourself before replying. “No, I’m not displeased. It’s just been a lonely six months since she died, and she always made these to cheer me up when I was upset.”

“You are lonely?” Thresh inquired. “I have heard your village is quite a populated one.”

You bit your lip, his words bringing back every bad memory you had of your life growing up as the granddaughter of the spirit guardian, next in line for the position yourself. The pain of their treatment felt ten times worse now that your grandmother was not there to share the burden of social isolation with you.

You let out a sad sigh. “Could we have some tea?”

Thresh readily agreed, and soon you sat across from each other at that small table, a cup of tea in front of you, the daifuku placed in the middle of the table, yet untouched.

“I only really spent time with my grandma. The other villagers tolerate us for what we do for them, but they don’t like us. Unless they’re forced to speak to me, they just avoid me.”

“I do not understand why,” Thresh retorted, purple eyes dark with anger. “You have been here so little time, but you are already so dear to me. Your people are ignorant.”

“They’re scared,” you corrected. “They think that I hold some influence over the spirits just because I bring you gifts. They think that if they make me mad, I’ll tell you to burn their homes down or something. I’ve overheard mothers telling their children not to make eye contact with me. Even if I did have the power to make spirits do what I want, I would never use it, but it’s not like any of them would believe me if I told them that.”

Thresh’s angry look had softened into one of sadness, pity clear in his eyes. The look made you uncomfortable, not used to being looked at like that by anybody. Your grandmother had been the only person who ever listened to your worries, and now she was gone to a place far beyond your reach.

“They’ve probably noticed I’m gone by now. I assume they’re more worried about finding my replacement than my likely death,” you mused sadly. “Thanks for listening, Thresh. It’s been a long time since I had someone to talk to.”

“I know what it is like to be so… alone,” Thresh spoke softly, nail tracing along the side of his still-full teacup. “The souls are… <i>were</i> my companions. They gave me power, and they kept me company.”

You said nothing, Ahri’s words from earlier echoing in your head as you gazed at the forlorn spirit before you.

“But they were not mine to keep,” he continued. “They were by my side at the expense of their soul’s path. The loneliness I suffer is my punishment for falling to such ignoble behavior.”

“Thresh…”

“But you have done nothing to deserve to be shunned by your world,” he growled. “I do not deserve the offerings you bring, but they are unworthy of the protection this world lends them.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that before,” you admitted. “But I don’t want them to be subjected to the mountain’s dangers just because they don’t like me. And without this job, I would have nothing. I feel like it’s my last tie to my grandmother, doing what she did for so long.”

You had been staring down at the table, but looked up as Thresh’s arm came in your peripheral vision. You watched as he gently picked up a soft daifuku, setting it down in front of you. Your gaze shot up, meeting his startlingly intense violet eyes.

“You have not lost your ties to her. Souls do not cease to be when they die. When I touch a soul, I can see how they came to this place, what is most important to them. I did not encounter the soul of your grandmother, but I am sure that if I did, I would be shown your face. Your memories with her are your connection to her soul.”

You pulled back from the table, not wanting your tears to fall in your likely-lukewarm tea. His words had a strange way of seeping into your skin, your loneliness feeling less heavy on your chest as you took in his words.

It was hard not to feel alone in your empty house, in a village that feared and hated you. But here you were, with someone alike in your pain, even if your lives could not have been more different. Here you were, sharing tea and daifuku like you had done so many times with your grandmother. The memories of her didn’t have to be a burden; they could be your strength.

Thresh must think you were a bad representation of your species, crying your heart out in front of him like a baby. But when you wiped your tears and gathered up the courage to look at his face, you found it surprisingly neutral, watching you like he was hesitant to say any more.

You picked up the daifuku, taking a bite and savoring its gentle sweetness on your tongue. The taste swept you up, and soon you had finished the whole thing. Realizing you still had company, as silent as he was right now, you swallowed the last bit of daifuku before setting your palms on the table.

“Thank you,” you said. “For the daifuku, and for what you said. I don’t think I’ve felt this content in a long time.”

Your tears hadn’t fully stopped, and that combined with your smile seemed to be confusing the spirit before you, but he nodded in response, a small smile gracing his lips. “I am glad I could help ease your burden, little human.”

“Are you going to eat one?” you asked, gesturing to the daifuku.

Thresh reached forward, taking a daifuku in hand and bringing it up to his mouth, staring at it in wonder.

“Have you not had daifuku before?” you asked curiously as you reached for another one yourself.

“I do not partake in food often,” Thresh admitted. “The shopkeeper told me that this was a food humans liked to eat.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness; it was a nice feeling to know that he had taken such care in selecting something for you that he thought you would like. Combined with the slight flush to his cheeks and his shy smile, you almost couldn’t believe he was one of the spirits you had held in awed regard for so long. He had no reason to go so out of his way to bring you a comfort from home, but in doing so, he had shown more consideration for you than anyone in your village ever had.

You would repay him for his kindness; if he could pull you out of your misery, then you would do whatever you could to do the same for him. And you only had a month here to convince him of his worth, so you would have to start soon. That night, you went to bed with hope in your heart, hope that you and Thresh were both worthy of more.

 You sat up, your bare legs being tickled by the grass you laid on. Looking around, you found yourself in a glade, surrounded by dark, gnarled trees that grew so far overhead that they blocked the sky entirely. You didn’t know what time it was, or where you were, or how you had gotten here.

You jolted forward at the sensation of something brushing against your back, a chill running up your spine at the sudden contact. You turned your head back to look, but saw nothing but the dark forest that surrounded you. A loud snarl rang out in the quiet forest, startling you and sending you curling in on yourself in fear. What was happening around you?

“I cannot see you,” came a dark growl, followed by a face appearing out of the darkness mere inches from your own.

You scrambled back with a scream, staring in terror at the large creature before you that you were horrified to realize that you recognized.

“I cannot hear you,” the demon-faced worm continued, its long body twisting around just above you. “But I can <i>smell</i> you.”

You pressed yourself back into the grass, desperate for this <i>thing</i> to not touch you in its circling in the air. There was no mistaking this demon for anything but the one that had attacked you that night in the forest. The realization brought a phantom pain to your shoulder, your memories returning to you in full.

How did you get to this place? You had been safe. Thresh told you that you were safe. Your only relief was that the demon didn’t seem to be able to see or hear you.

“I can smell your fear,” it purred sinisterly. “But it is your flesh I want. I was so close, and then your delicious fear would have been all mine.”

There was nowhere to run. The trees blocked you in, and even if there was a gap in the branches to run to, you were too scared to move and break whatever spell kept the azakana from seeing you.

“I can still taste your blood,” the azakana snarled, its wormlike body thrashing violently above you. “And I will taste it again. You cannot hide from my eyes forever, and then you will be mine to savor, to break into a thousand pieces before I devour your weak body. You will never escape your fate.”

A flash of light crashed above you and you closed your eyes, raising your arms up to shield your face. It felt like the bright light was about to be upon you, but then it all faded to black.

You sat up in bed with a gasp, breathing heavily. Looking around the familiar room, your heartbeat began to slow as you realized that it had just been an awful dream. It had felt so real; that azakana’s horrible raspy growls right next to your ear that had spoken of promises of not being done with you yet sending chills up your arms even if the safety of your room.

Immediately, you wanted to tell Thresh what had happened, but quickly reconsidered. It had been horrible, but it was just a dream. Thresh was a worrier, and you didn’t want to trouble him with something as silly as a bad dream, not when he had so much of his own problems to worry about.

Letting out a sigh, you laid back down on your side in your futon. You stared at the mountainscape painting on the wall, letting the still image relax you and bring you back to reality. You knew it was still too early to get up, so you would have to try to get back to sleep, as daunting of a task as that seemed right now. Closing your eyes, you could only hope that your impending sleep would be dreamless.

 You woke up slowly, unable to remember if you had dreamed or not, which was a vast improvement on your earlier nightmare. Feeling fully rested, you only felt more confident in your decision to keep this to yourself. Thresh had more important things to worry about than a human having a bad dream, and you supposed that today was as good a day as any to start working on that promise you had made Ahri to restore Thresh’s confidence in himself.

You began to brainstorm ideas as you did a sweep of the entry room. Since you had begun cleaning, the temple didn’t have much dirt to sweep up, but the action helped you focus on how you would get Thresh to begin helping souls again.

You doubted he would agree just because you asked him; while he had done it for that soul in turmoil, the emotional aftermath was something you thought it would be better to avoid if you wanted to make progress. But what else did that leave?

Starting slow seemed like your best bet, but how would you get him out of the temple? Stuck in here, he would likely not get any better, considering how much of a hermit he had been for so long. Setting the broom against the wall, you finally had an idea settle in your mind, as sneaky as it may be.

 “The lake of souls?” Thresh echoed, caught off guard.

You had ambushed him the moment he had come into the room, startling him with your sudden request.

“I like to bathe every day if I can,” you spoke, doing your best to sound casual so he wouldn’t suspect anything. “Would it be okay if we went back today?”

Thresh stared down at you, blinking tiredly. He tended to be sleepier in the mornings, which you were hoping would aide you in your plan. As you waited for him to reply, you took in his messy bangs and rumpled collar. You found yourself constantly surprised by how cute he was; such a difference from your initial impression.

Eventually, the half-awake spirit relented with a slow nod. “I can take you there now.”

“How about some tea first?” you suggested. “I don’t want you to doze off and fall into the lake.”

Recalling the fact that you had caught him sleeping standing up two mornings ago, Thresh agreed. “…that may be wise.”

He allowed you to force some morning tea on him, and was considerably more awake when you both set out. As you followed him down the forest path, you began to appreciate his demonic form as well, the purple of his skin contrasting beautifully with the violet of the trees all around you.

You would have to start slow, but you were already running into problems. What would be a happy medium between doing nothing and pushing him at a soul and telling him to deal with it? You knew that getting him to talk to Ahri would likely be good for both of them, but that would probably require a lot of convincing both of them to agree. Ahri didn’t seem confident that Thresh could change so easily, so you would have to show her that he was worth redemption before you got her to meet him again.

You had been probably too deep in your thoughts, so deep that you hadn’t noticed that you had arrived at the lake until Thresh was in front of you, leaning towards your face with a worried expression.

You quickly stepped back, embarrassed by both his sudden closeness and your own lack of paying attention to your surroundings. Giving yourself a moment to calm down, you looked from Thresh to the waters behind him, just as beautiful as they had been yesterday. The sight focussed you; you couldn’t let this chance go to waste, even as uncertain as you felt.

“Um, Thresh…?” you spoke up, nerves doubling when he looked at you curiously with his white eyes. “How often do souls appear here?”

Thresh turned to look out at the water as he considered your question. “It is more frequent at times of strife and war in your world, but otherwise it remains steady. Although the flow of death may have changed in my absence of duties.”

“Do you want to try again?” you asked carefully. “Like the last time we were here?”

“I…” He sounded conflicted, posture too stiff. “If I repeat the same mistakes–”

You stayed silent until he finally looked back at you, finding yourself shocked by the tears pooling unshed in his eyes. “How can I know that I will not give into my cursed loneliness again? If I were to accept my role and then fail again… I am afraid I will not survive another fall.”

Thresh let out a low exhale, closing his eyes for a short moment before reopening them, his eyes no longer watery, but expression still plainly sad.

“I know it’s not much, but I’m here now,” you offered. “So you won’t be lonely while I’m here with you.”

Thresh looked surprised, his eyebrows raising as he stared at you in disbelief. But you could still see the reluctance on his face; as much as you wanted to help him, it would be hard to fix so many lifetimes full of trauma. Just when you were ready to hear his rejection again, an idea came to you, and you couldn’t help but cut off Thresh’s about-to-be-spoken words in your excitement.

“One soul a day!” you exclaimed as soon as the idea hit you.

“You…”  Thresh seemed confused, which was fair considering you had just shouted words in his face with no context.

“One soul a day,” you repeated, holding up one finger before him. “What if you help one soul every day? I’ll be here to keep you from getting lonely, and if it’s too difficult, you can stop, but just try one a day… please?”

“One soul a day,” he muttered to himself, running one hand up his other arm as if trying to stave off a chill.

“I’m right here,” you insisted. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You could see the hope in his face. You could see how close he was to agreeing, but he was still holding himself back. Why was he still resisting?

“Please, Thresh,” you appealed to him one more time, unable to keep the emotions you were feeling out of your voice. “You can really help these souls. If it were me… if it was my grandmother’s soul, I would feel better knowing someone like you was here to greet her when she came here.”

“If it were you…” he considered with a soft sigh. “I suppose I cannot abandon these souls if they have left someone like you behind.”

“Thank you!” you cried out in relief, surging forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Feeling him stiffen immediately, you pulled back as you realized what it was you had just done. You had been so overjoyed that it had overwhelmed you, or at least that was the only reasoning you could come up with.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“No, you have done nothing to offend me,” Thresh denied awkwardly, skin noticeably pink even as his lips formed a small, shy smile. “I did not mind your contact at all.”

You felt your own face warm as you stared at Thresh’s happy blushing face, a realization crashing onto you. Nobody your age in your village really talked to you, but you had taken notice of boys your age, wishing they would talk to you while knowing that they never would. But staring at Thresh now…

“…actually, I rather enjoyed your embrace,” he admitted, shocking you with his openness.

You quickly looked down, nails biting into your palms at your sides. This was more than you had ever felt for any cute boy you had admired from afar in your village, more than any emotions you had felt when reading romantic stories in books your grandmother had bought you. This spirit in front of you who did not rebuff your contact, but instead seemed to welcome it had developed a closer place in your heart than any of the people in the village that your duties protected, and you didn’t know what to do now that you realized how your feelings were changing.

You were too scared to confront the feelings inside you, so you opted for the easy way out. “So when do you think a soul will appear?”

 Thresh had handled the soul perfectly that day, if not slightly more nervously than the first time you had seen him do it. You had stood by his side as he had called the soul to him, taking it into his lantern and then releasing it. You could tell he had hesitated when letting the spirit go, but he had done it without complaint, even though you knew his mind was likely on his past as he did so.

You had been surprised to return to Thresh’s temple that day to see that one of the lanterns that floated in the river around the temple was now lit with a bright purple light. You hadn’t been the only one who was surprised; Thresh had stared openly in awe of the lit lantern, something he then told you he had not seen in hundreds of years.

You began to notice a pattern. Every day when you returned from the lake, a new lantern had lit up. The lights were exciting to look at in the daytime, but were downright mesmerizing at night, vibrant purple light drifting gently on the water. As the days passed and more lanterns came alight, you and Thresh began to take your evening tea outside.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said after taking a sip of your tea. “We don’t have anything like this in my village. Not unless you believe the rumors about what it looks like at the top of Mount Targon.”

“I have grown so used to this sight that it becomes hard to appreciate it,” Thresh mused. “But sitting here with you, it feels like I am seeing this world anew.”

“I felt the same way after I nearly died,” you replied. “This world has always amazed me, but after you saved me, I’ve gotten to see so many new sides of this place. You would think it would scare me to be here after I was attacked, but I don’t feel scared at all.”

“…not even of me?” Thresh asked quietly. “Nobody would blame you would fleeing at the first chance you got from a fiend like I. I admit I was pleasantly surprised to return from the trading post to find you still here.”

You turned from the lanterns to face Thresh, his expression neutral, but eyes wavering like he was anticipating a rejection.

“How could I be scared of you?” you countered. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone. And you’re not really scary, not unless you have your gold mask on.”

“…oh,” was Thresh’s muted response.

You couldn’t help a quiet laugh. He was so hard on himself. It was no wonder it was like pulling teeth to get him to agree to your one-soul-a-day plan. He had been alone for so long, with not even himself to believe in him.

You knew that you were maybe putting yourself too out there as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have survived here without you. And I don’t just mean you rescuing me. Your company has been the biggest blessing I’ve received in a long time, Thresh.”

He didn’t respond, so you made to move your head from his shoulder to look at his face, but were stopped by a gentle hand on the back of your head.

“Could I ask you to stay like this, little human? Just for a bit longer?”

You hummed quietly, leaning into his side as his hand instead began to gently run over your hair, the glow of the lanterns illuminating the softly-flowing water before you.

 Your plan to slowly adapt Thresh to handling souls again had been going well; every day a new lantern lit up, and he was able to maintain his humanlike form outside the temple for longer and longer. No matter how much you tried to reassure him that you didn’t find his demonic form off-putting, he still seemed insistent to be in his “prettier” form as much as he could around you.

You knew he didn’t make the same effort when he wasn’t around you; every time he went on a run to the trading post, you saw him drop his humanlike form when he hit the trees and didn’t think your eyes were still on him. It had to have been a drain on him to stay in his purple-haired form as long as he could, but he never complained. You had come to find both of his forms… attractive, in their own respective ways, but it wasn’t like you could just openly tell him that. He was a spirit and you were a human, and besides that, your time here was limited.

You had been trying not to think about it, but your time here was almost up. You had three days left before you would go back to your usual life, a thought which only felt more painful considering the taste you had gotten of a better life, one where you weren’t some pariah. But you said nothing of your worries to Thresh; if you wanted to help him, you had to be strong and face the end of your time together with a smile on your face.

You had finally realized the extent of your feelings for Thresh, back a week ago sitting at the river’s edge with your head on his shoulder. At first you had dismissed the butterflies in your stomach as nothing more than situational; of course you would feel like this, he was the only man to ever really interact on a meaningful level with you, anyone in your situation would feel the same way. You told yourself that again and again, but it didn’t feel right. Eventually, you were forced to confront the truth; you weren’t feeling this way because he was a man who bothered to talk to you, you were feeling like this because he was the man he was.

He hadn’t offered you his shoulder since that night, but that didn’t mean that he was pulling away from you; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He seemed to have an incessant need to be close to you, and had insisted on holding your hand every day on your walks to and from the lake. You were unable to refuse the contact, as much as you knew it would hurt you in the end when you had to leave. Whenever he smiled that wide, toothy smile at you, you were putty in his hands.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, so you allowed yourself to just enjoy his closeness for now, even if the impending end to your time together was slowly burning a hole in your chest. But even if you wanted to forget how little time you had left here, you couldn’t. You still had one more thing you had to do.

Thresh had gone on what was to be the last supply run while you were still here, promising to bring back a special tea he had heard about as well as more daifuku. You watched him go, waiting until you could no longer see his figure before you enacted your plan.

You soon wouldn’t be here to keep Thresh company, so you needed to make sure someone was. And given your limited interactions with other spirits in this world, the choice was easy to make.

It was obvious that Ahri cared about Thresh, but not to the detriment of the souls. But he had come so far, and you needed Ahri to see that. If you wanted to return Thresh to his former glory, her support would be vital.

You hadn’t seen her again since that day, but you had a feeling that she was still keeping an eye out for you. You knew that neither of them would reach out to each other on their own, their shame and pride too much for them to overcome by themselves, so you would take things into your own hands.

You retreated back to your room, snatching up the scroll and writing brush Thresh had given you when you had expressed an interest in drawing to help pass the time. Tearing off a section of the scroll, you began to write a letter to Ahri, asking her to come to the lake tomorrow at mid-morning.

After the ink had dried, you folded the note in half before making your way to the area behind the temple where you had spoken to Ahri before. Bending down, you placed the folded paper on the ground, then placing a large rock on top of it to keep it from fleeing with the wind.

Once the note was secured, you stood back up, looking out over the forest. If you had been on your spirit walk, you would have continued walking into the forest and onto the next temple, but right now was anything but an ordinary visit to the spirit world. You were having a hard time remembering which spirit’s temple was after Thresh’s on your route… was it the one with the arrow? Or maybe the one with the antlers carved into their pedestal?

Either way, you couldn’t see much of anything in the forest behind the temple. You knew it would be too much to hope to see a small fox lingering around, but you would have to trust that she would find the note and agree to meet you tomorrow. You knew that she wanted to see Thresh performing his duties as he once had, so you hoped that her curiosity of what could be would compel her to accept your invitation. She seemed to have faith in you, so you hoped that she still trusted your judgment.

There was no point standing out here, not knowing when Ahri would even come by, but you had never seen Thresh come back here, so you knew the note would be safe from anyone but Ahri finding it. So it was back inside for you to work on the idle work; Thresh had gotten you some new clothing to wear after noticing your discomfort with your blood-stained ceremonial robes, and you had been slowly trying to repair the stained and ripped clothing. Maybe you could finally sew up the hole in the shoulder before Thresh returned from the trading post.

The next day, you were walking with Thresh to the lake, trying not to let all of your worries show on your face, but it was hard not to think about all of the events that would soon be upon you. This would be your one and only chance to get Ahri and Thresh to make up, at least while you were still here. And more troubling still, today would be your last full day here; at ten o’clock tomorrow night, you would step back onto the silver path and leave this place behind for your regular life. Somehow the thought of walking through this place as spirit guardian sent sadness coursing through you, since when you walked the silver path again, you would no longer be able to see Thresh.

But you wouldn’t let Thresh know of your dour thoughts, putting a smile on your face as you talked about what a nice day it was, although that didn’t mean that your eyes didn’t begin to fervently scan the area once you arrived at the lake.

You were not as subtle as you thought, as Thresh turned his head to look back at the patch of trees you were currently eyeing.

“Does something trouble you? The azakana should not–”

“No, it’s nothing!” you quickly denied. “No azakana, just…”

Then you caught sight of something over Thresh’s shoulder, a fluffy-tailed little creature emerging from the bushes. This was it. You could feel your heart rate pick up considerably, your palms feeling sweaty as you felt the pressure for this to go well.

Why had you put off telling him until now? It just made things harder. But you couldn’t lie to yourself; every time you had wanted to warn him, he had looked at you with those soft eyes and you had chickened out.

In truth, you were scared. Even thinking of Ahri seemed to send Thresh’s mood downward, so how was he going to react when he found out that you had gone behind his back and met her, had invited her here now? It was selfish, but you just wanted to enjoy the rest of the time you had left until you had to tell him. You knew he would have every reason to cast you out early over this betrayal, but at the same time, it had to be done. You couldn’t continue to be selfish with such important things at stake.

“Thresh, there’s something I have to tell you,” you said, forcing each word out almost against your will.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a frown, one hand raising to cup your cheek. “If something is ailing you, I will–”

“I’m okay,” you said, trying to keep yourself together. “But there’s something you need to know. I met with Ahri.”

Thresh froze, his hand cold against your skin. Ahri had emerged fully from the brush by this point, but did not come any closer, her eyes on the scene before her. Turning your focus back to the spirit before you, you found Thresh staring down at you, waiting for an explanation, the pain in his face making you feel like you had thorns in your heart.

“The first time you left for the trading post, she came to see me. She was worried… worried that you would do the same thing with me that you used to do with souls.”

Thresh looked down, hand dropping from your cheek like you had burned him. His pulling away saddened you, but you had to keep going.

“I told her you weren’t like that anymore!” you exclaimed. “I told her that you’re a good person, Thresh. That you just needed help to restore your faith in yourself.”

“She told you about me?” Thresh’s voice was so quiet that it was hard to hear. “What I used to be… I had hoped you would never know. I fear I could not take your rejection too.”

You had expected anger, not this almost tangible sadness. Thresh’s breathing was shuddered, the spirit shrinking in on himself, unwilling to meet your eyes. He looked broken, and the sight hurt your heart so much that you found yourself reaching out to him, laying your hand over the cold metal of his golden jaw mask, fingers brushing against the purple skin of his face.

“I don’t care who you used to be,” you spoke, hoping your words would be enough to reach him. “I care about who you are now, Thresh. These past weeks I have seen a spirit who is more than worthy of taking care of human souls, and I wanted Ahri to see too. You’re both hurting, and I just wanted you to understand each other for once.”

“I can’t say I expected to see you like this, Thresh,” Ahri said, now in her shifted form as she walked towards you.

“Ahri…” Thresh pulled back from you to turn and face her.

“It’s been a long time,” she greeted. “But she’s right. This talk has been long overdue.”

“I am not…”

“Please, Thresh, just listen to her,” you implored him, taking his hand back in yours.

Thresh whispered your name, staring down at your joined hands for a long moment before relenting. “…very well.”

“Glad to see you listen to someone,” Ahri grinned, holding up her hands in mock surrender when faced with Thresh’s grumpy frown in response. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you for quite a while, but it didn’t feel right since I was the reason for our falling out.”

“You have done nothing I did not deserve, I know that now,” Thresh replied. “I do not deserve this duty, not when I am so weak to fall prey to my own wretched loneliness.”

“I’ve made mistakes too,” Ahri said. “I never realized that you felt like that, not until it was too late. We spirits have a responsibility to the souls of the dead, but we cannot forsake each other in the name of performing our duty. I failed you, Thresh, as a fellow spirit and as a friend.”

“I thought…” Thresh trailed off.

“Don’t get me wrong, you deserved the lecture I gave you,” Ahri said, voice light despite her harsh words. “But that little human of yours has made me realize that I can’t hold your past against you forever.”

A small splash had your collective attentions turning to the lake, where a new soul had appeared on the surface of the water, a gray-purple in color. It was lacking the furor of the first soul you had seen had, which Thresh had told you indicated that this was an expected death, the soul free of distress, but still needing guidance.

Thresh hadn’t moved, so you tried to urge him into action with a squeeze of his hand. His fingers clutched back at yours reflexively, reluctant white eyes sliding down to meet yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying to convey your confidence in him without words.

Then, as one final attempt. “Please.”

Thresh sighed, but it didn’t sound sad, instead having the tone of a parent indulging a child’s whim. “It seems I am unable to deny you anything.”

You let your hands slip apart, your attention moving back to Ahri as you suddenly remembered that she was there as well, much to your embarrassment. You were surprised to see her looking your way with a bittersweet smile on her face, her expression shifting to careful neutrality when she noticed that your eyes were on her.

Thresh approached the water’s edge, just like he had done every day for the past couple of weeks, beckoning the soul towards him. Your attention was split between watching him and looking at Ahri’s face for any clues on how she was feeling.

The air grew noticeably tense as the soul reached Thresh’s outstretched hand. Despite your faith in Thresh, you still held your breath as you watched him interact with the soul, waiting for him to release it into the air as he had done every time before. Looking over at Ahri, you found her just as tense as you if not more so, her jaw tight and body rigid as if she was expecting to spring into action at any moment.

Just as you began to feel like you couldn’t take your heightened nerves any longer, the soul passed through Thresh’s lantern before releasing into the air. The tension finally broke, and your body sagged forward in relief like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“You were right,” Ahri whispered, her bright blue eyes still on Thresh. “I never thought I would see him like this again.”

“Will you… help him? After I go back to my village?” you whispered back.

Ahri sighed. “I’ll have to. I can’t imagine he’ll be feeling very well after you leave.”

“What?”

Ahri turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been here for five minutes and I can see how he looks at you. How much he trusts you.”

“Ahri…”

Then Thresh turned back to you and the moment was broken. He looked so relieved that the questions you had for Ahri vanished from your mind. He was able to maintain his purple-haired form all the way back over to you, before his power waned again and his pale skin bled to vibrant purple again.

You wanted to congratulate him, to offer some words to let him know how proud you were of him, but the words again died as you met his eyes, saw his happy grin. But as happy as you were for him, his smile also made you feel hollow inside as the thought occurred to you that you wouldn’t be seeing it any more after tomorrow. The only man you had ever… ever <i>loved</i>, and you were about to lose him forever.

A sob tore from your throat, tears overflowing from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You cursed yourself, knowing you were ruining this important moment for Thresh, yet you were unable to stop the tears from coming.

Thresh cried out your name, rushing forward until he was stopped by Ahri stepping between the two of you.

“Do not get in my way, Ahri,” Thresh seethed, agitated.

“Stand down,” Ahri stressed gently. “I don���t need you making things worse with your worrying.”

“She is in pain, and I have vowed to protect her–”

“From <i>azakana</i>,” Ahri interrupted. “This time, let me help her. She needs a woman’s advice right now.”

“But–”

“It’s okay, Thresh,” you chimed in, desperately wiping at your wet eyes. You really didn’t want him to see you like this, crying over the inevitable. “Ahri’s right, it’s just… a girl issue.”

“We’re at the lake anyways,” Ahri said. “We’ll have a bath and talk and then I’ll bring her back to your temple. Does that work for you, sir protector?”

“A bath?” Thresh pouted.

“Don’t be jealous,” Ahri teased. “And besides, she still has your mark. You would know if anything happens to her in my care.”

“Thresh?” Your quiet voice turned his focus back to you, though he still looked sulky. “Could we have some of that new tea you bought when I get back?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually he nodded. “Of course.”

“You can stop worrying. I’ll take care of your precious human,” Ahri said with a grin. “Now, go. We have some girl time to start.”

Thresh levelled a stern look at Ahri, who didn’t bat an eye, but stepped out of the way at last to allow him access to you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ahri,” you said. “But I wanted her to see that you could do this for herself.”

“I am not upset with you,” Thresh replied. “You have pulled me out of the darkness that has been suffocating me for too long. I only worry for you now... are you truly alright? I do not like to see your tears.”

“I’m okay,” you insisted. “Sorry I keep crying in front of you, but Ahri’s right, it’s just a girl issue.”

You felt bad stretching the truth, but you didn’t want to worry Thresh any more than you already had. Thankfully he accepted your explanation without much further trouble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t continue looking over his shoulder at you every few seconds for his entire walk back into the forest.

You and Ahri were silent as you watched him go, with you offering him a smile to reassure him every time he turned his head back to look until he was out of sight.

When he was gone at last, Ahri turned to you with a playful eye roll. “He’s so overprotective.”

“Um, I…” You weren’t sure what to say, but your cheeks felt too warm.

Ahri began to untie her obi, letting the garment fall to the ground and raising an eyebrow at your confused stare. “I wasn’t kidding about the bath. I’ve been needing a good soak after all the stress this month.”

You nodded, following her lead and undressing and getting into the crystal water with her. Ahri leaned back, closing her eyes and letting her tails fan out in the water.

You leaned back as well, dunking your hair in the water; if you were here, you might as well take the opportunity to wash yourself. Neither of you spoke, just enjoying the cool water, until Ahri finally broke the silence.

“I’ll have my hands full after tomorrow night,” she said. “Thresh is going to be even worse than he was all those years ago after he loses you.”

“But he still has you,” you protested.

“You really don’t get it?” she countered. “Nobody here could reach him, not until you came along. You mean more to him than a thousand human souls. And I can see you feel the same way for him as he does for you.”

“What does it matter?” you replied, knowing you were owning up to her allegations. “What can I do when we only have one more day together? It will only hurt worse if I tell him my feelings and then we have to part forever. I don’t want to hurt him more.”

Ahri sighed. “But what about you? You don’t think he cares if you’re hurting?”

“I’m used to it,” you dismissed with a sad smile. “Loneliness is expected with the life I live. I learned long ago that there was nothing I could do to change people’s minds about me. But Thresh talked to me, he let me experience what it was like to feel like someone cares… that is enough for me.”

Ahri was silent for a long moment. “Fine. I see you have your mind made up, but just remember where the ones who care about you truly are.”

 The talk with Ahri had really helped you calm down, and had solidified your feelings about the rest of your time with Thresh. Even if he did feel for you like you did for him like she had said, there was no point in doing anything about it right before you were to be parted forever. Just spending time with him the same way you had been was enough; then both of you would not suffer more in the end.

Thresh had long since prepared the special tea by the time you had got back and had been waiting in the entryway like a dog that missed its owner. You were grateful that Ahri had helped you calm down enough to simply enjoy the time you had left with Thresh, even spending that evening at the river’s edge again, Thresh insistently maneuvering your head onto his shoulder. You knew that you would remember this night for the rest of your life. But the moment could not stretch on forever, much as you would have liked it to, and soon your time here was coming to its end.

You had both been trying to act normal all day the next day, like you weren’t being slowly suffocated by the reality that you would soon have to part. You had drawn out that evening’s teatime long after the tea was drank and the daifuku was eaten. Only when it was half an hour to ten did you finally acknowledge the inevitable, returning to your room for the last time to don your ceremonial clothing for your return to your village.

Would they fear you even more now that you had survived the unsurvivable? It wasn’t like they could avoid you much more than they already did.

An unfamiliar weight as you pulled your skirt on had you reaching into your pocket to pull out the bell Ahri had gifted you at the end of your first meeting. At first, you considered giving it to Thresh to return to her, but selfishly decided against it. Ahri was very astute, so you had no doubt that she realized you still had the bell and seemed fine to let you keep it. And as sad as you would be to think of this place come tomorrow, you couldn’t help but grasp onto this physical reminder of your time here, even if Ahri’s promise of help would not extend to your world as well.

Stowing the bell back in your pocket, you fixed your outfit into place. You had long since repaired the hole in the shoulder, but you had never quite been fully successful in removing the bloodstains from the white garments. You would likely have to replace them with new robes when you got back.

Your steps to the entryway where Thresh was waiting felt so heavy, the air around you like walking through sand, as if your sad reluctance was palpable. But this was your role in life. You would have to just be grateful that you were given the time here that you were.

Entering the front room, you found Thresh standing near the door, his long ears drooped in the way they always were when he was upset. You wished you could do something to help him feel better, but it was hard when you were feeling the same way that he was right now.

“I’m ready,” you said, drawing his attention to you. “Though my bloody clothes will probably give the people in my village a scare.”

“You look beautiful,” Thresh replied softly, sending warmth to your cheeks with his unexpected compliment.

You managed to stutter out a thank you before following Thresh out to the front of the temple, the trees looking very similar under the moonlight as they had that night one month ago when this had all begun.

You knew that you had very little time left, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. What could you possibly say to convey everything you were feeling? No words felt like enough right now.

Thresh stepped towards you, quickly taking you into his arms in a tight hug. He seemed determined to maintain his humanlike form until the last possible second, which you let him have without complaint. You didn’t care what form he took, they had both become so precious to you.

“My sweet little human, I will miss you more than you know,” he murmured above your head, holding you close.

“I’ll miss you too… so much,” you replied, still unwilling to completely bare your soul to him. It would be easier for you both this way. You knew it would.

“My tea will taste bitter again,” Thresh added, voice wavering. “This place will feel empty again without you.”

“You’ll see me again,” you said tearfully. “You’ll be here to greet my soul when it arrives here, won’t you?”

“That is not enough,” Thresh retorted miserably. “I want to see your face every day. I want to hear your voice call my name. I do not want to guide your soul in death, I want you here with me in life. No soul will ever have the same worth to me as your living one.”

“Thresh,” you sobbed against his chest. “I don’t want to go, but I have to. I have to…”

“My beautiful human,” Thresh addressed you, pulling back from the hug to look down at you. “May I ask for one final indulgence from you?”

He leaned down towards you, clearly laying his feelings on the table the closer his lips got to yours.

“Please,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You had not expected this, but found yourself wanting so desperately to kiss Thresh. One kiss to remember him by as long as you lived.

You waited, feeling him close the gap, when you were startled by a spark of feeling in your hand, like you had been zapped by lightning.

You weren’t given a second to react before you were violently yanked from the ground and into the air. Letting out a terrified scream, you watched Thresh get farther and farther away the higher into the air you rose.

Your arms and legs constricted, you were only able to move your head to look at your captor, the blood freezing in your veins at the familiar multi-horned face that loomed maliciously over you.

“You could not hide forever,” the azakana hissed. “I will not be denied the taste of your flesh and blood.”

You heard an anguished cry of your name, looking back down to see Thresh below you on the ground, his form reverted back to his demonlike form.

“Release her!” he seethed, shocking you with the rage in his voice. He had removed his hook from his belt and was holding it up as if ready to strike.

“You have no power here,” the azakana taunted. “If you strike me, she will fall. Either way, your puny human will die.”

“Thresh!” you shouted, the azakana squeezing you tighter in its wormlike body in response, your body burning in pain.

Thresh shouted your name again, sounding increasingly more desperate as the azakana stared haughtily down at him.

You could see the silver path now, winding around the temple. You had dreaded that sight all of today, but now it felt miles away. As you were constricted tighter and tighter in the azakana’s hold, everything began to fade farther away. The only thing you could focus on was the anguish on Thresh’s face, the sheer powerlessness of your situation clear.

“You will die!” Thresh seethed. “You hurt her, and you will perish as well!”

“Then I will have a good last meal,” the azakana countered. “Her tasty fear will keep me satisfied in the darkness of death.”

Your hands were pressed tightly to your sides painfully tightly, one hand pressing against a hard lump at your side. You were lamenting the pain from the mystery lump until it hit you; Ahri’s bell was still in your pocket. She had promised help, though you doubted she expected you to use it like this, but you were beyond desperate.

Wiggling a hand up and into your pocket, you gritted your teeth against the severe pain in your body as you clasped your fingers around the bell, shaking it as much as you could given your current movement restrictions.

“Please, Ahri, please!” you begged quietly, the azakana’s cruel laughter ringing out above your head, black spots starting to dot your vision from your prolonged constraint.

You couldn’t hear the bell make any noise, but shook it in your closed fist until your hand felt too numb to move. You were wheezing, trying desperately to breathe, about to pass out when you were forced to close your eyes to avoid being blinded by a bright flash of light.

The azakana’s body curled ever tighter around you, and then that pressure loosened all at once, restoring your lost breath to your aching body. Looking over at the source of the bright light, you saw a figure with snow white skin and hair, bright teal tails flared out behind her.

Ahri did not waste a second, charging at the demon again, her foxfire burning a hole through the monster, who shrieked in pain as it was cleaved in two by Ahri’s fierce attacks. The creature was dead, but that left you high in the air with a worm demon’s body that was about to uncurl and send you plummeting to your death.

“Thresh!” Ahri yelled, her voice distorted with a ferocity you hadn’t known she had in her.

The dead azakana’s body went limp and you slipped from its grip, quickly falling towards the ground. You stared at the coming ground, terror chilling your sore limbs as you fell closer and closer to your death.

Suddenly you were surprised by a shout of your name, followed by an object appearing in your field of vision. As you fell closer to it, you realized that it looked familiar, quickly recognizing it as Thresh’s lantern.

“Take hold of it!” Thresh shouted, and you did your best to obey, shifting your body in the air to reach out for the lantern with the last of your strength.

You were barely able to make it, the tips of your fingers just grazing the ethereal lantern, but the effect was immediate. Like an elastic pulled to its limit, you were instantly snapped through the air, landing harmlessly against Thresh’s body.

Thresh’s arms were tight around you as you sunk into his body, feeling boneless with relief.

“I feared I would lose you to that demon,” Thresh spoke quietly. “I could do nothing, I–”

“You pulled me to safety. I wouldn’t call that nothing,” you replied against his chest.

“But you were hurt…” he protested.

“You sure know how to attract trouble,” came Ahri’s voice from behind you.

You turned around, still in Thresh’s arms as he refused to let you go. You watched as Ahri’s all-white form faded, replaced by her usual appearance.

“Ahri, thank you!” you exclaimed, doing your best to bow to her with Thresh’s arms still stubbornly wrapped around your waist.

“Well, I gave you that bell for a reason,” she replied. “I’m just glad I got here in time.”

“I owe you–”

“You owe me nothing,” she replied dismissively. “I was just repaying the debt that this world owes you for returning Thresh to us.”

“Still,” you protested. “You liked that inari sushi I brought before, I can bring you more next month!”

“No,” Ahri declined sternly. “I have something different I want from you… stay here.”

“Stay?” you echoed. “But my village…”

“Your village does not appreciate what they have,” Ahri argued. “I won’t allow you to return to those ingrates when you have people here who want you to stay.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Ahri smirked. “I’ve talked to the other spirits and they all agree. We would like to offer to make you one of us, but I’m afraid we require the consent of one more spirit… Thresh?”

You felt Thresh go rigid behind you. “I give my consent.”

“That was fast!” Ahri laughed. “But there you have it. Become one of us.”

“But the deal with my village…” you weakly disputed, despite your heart singing at the offer.

“The deal is over,” she answered. “We will not harm the village, but they will no longer be under our protection. They will find a way to coexist with the mountain, or they will die, but they must find their own way now.”

She was right, and both of you knew it. Why were you so determined to go back to a place that couldn’t care less if you lived or died. If you took her offer, then you could stay here with Thresh. It was all you wanted, but you were struggling to make that choice and be selfish for once in your life.

“You’ve lived for them for too long,” Ahri said. “It’s time that you lived for yourself.”

You took a deep breath as you stared at her outstretched hand. If you took her offer, then you would never return to your village again, but thinking about it now, that knowledge felt like a relief. You could live amongst people who actually cared about you, the happiness that realization brought almost indescribable. With one decision, you would sever ties with your former way of life, and you found yourself excitedly reaching out for Ahri’s hand, a satisfied skin on her face as her nails bit slightly against the skin of your palm.

A light surrounded your joined hands, followed by a gentle warmth on the back of your hand in the same spot that had held your mark of protection from Thresh. Pulling your hand back, you now found that it beheld a beautiful pink flower that seemed to glow supernaturally under the moonlight.

“It’s done,” Ahri announced happily. “You belong to this world now. And with your new level of power, the azakana will keep away.”

You looked behind her to the large azakana corpse that was still laid over the temple grounds, its upper half partially-submerged in the river that separated Thresh’s temple from the forest.

“Go ahead, touch its body,” Ahri instructed, sending a stern look Thresh’s way so he would finally let you out of his arms.

Ahri gave you a nod, smiling smugly as you took hesitant steps forward and coming to a stop before the lower section of the creature’s body. Looking quickly back to Ahri for confirmation, you reached out and quickly tapped the corpse with your fingers before pulling your hand back.

Instantly, the body began to disintegrate, a pink fire burning along both ends of its body until it was no more, your memories the only indication that it had ever been here at all.

“And that’s what will happen to any azakana that dares to touch you,” Ahri boasted. “Now, I think it’s time I left you two alone. We can save the introductions to the other spirits for another time.”

With a wink, she reverted to her fox form before darting across the bridge and into the trees. As you watched her go, you realized that the silver path wasn’t there anymore. This was it, you were finally free.

A soft call of your name had you turning back to Thresh, who was staring at you like you were the moon itself. You took slow steps towards him, quickly picking up your pace to sprint into his arms.

“I can stay!” you cried, wrapping your arms tightly around him. Pulling slightly back from the embrace, you looked up at him with a teasing grin. “Does this mean your tea will taste good again?”

You barely had a second’s warning before Thresh’s lips were on yours. You let out a surprised moan, eyes fluttering closed to enjoy the sensation.

While you didn’t mind Thresh’s demonic form, the gold jaw armor he wore was a different story as it cut into your skin. Pulling back to a kiss-dazed Thresh, you held up a hand to stop him from going in for another kiss, tapping the metal of his jaw mask.

“I had not realized… I have gotten so used to my mask that I forgot,” Thresh admitted.

“It’s fine,” you replied. “Let’s go back inside so you can shift into your other form and we can keep kissing.”

Thresh could not comply fast enough.

You had barely gotten inside before Thresh took you into his arms, leaving you scrambling to grab onto his vest to steady yourself.

“I would have never thought that I could keep you,” Thresh spoke warmly. “It was too much to hope that you would feel the same way as I do.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you countered as Thresh strolled to the back hall. “I didn’t want to go, but I felt like I had to. But Ahri is right, my place is here, with you.”

Thresh grinned happily as he stopped in front of a door halfway down the hallway; his room. You were filled with curiosity as he shifted you around in his arms so he could open the door. You had never even caught a glimpse of Thresh’s room, not wanting to invade his privacy, so this would be your first time seeing it.

The moment he stepped inside, the room lit up with a gentle purple-tinted glow from an assortment of small orbs on the ceiling. The room was not lavish by any means, a large bed sat in the center alongside a chest of drawers. On the wall was a mountainscape painting not unlike yours, but this one was darker, like a mountain at night, the painting dotted with small circles of light that reminded you of souls.

As Thresh placed you down on the futon, you noticed something on top of the drawers. “Is that… my fan?”

Atop the drawers sat a fan, decorated with flowers of varying purples that you had painted on yourself. That had been among the first gifts you had delivered, back seven months ago now.

You looked from the fan to Thresh, who looked back at you with fondness in his eyes. “In my isolation, the gifts were my only joy, yours more so than any I have received before.”

“Thresh…” You hadn’t thought you could like him any more, but seeing how he had taken such care of the gifts you had brought him made your heart warm all over again.

Thresh joined you on the futon, leaning down until his face was inches from your own.

“My dear human,” Thresh whispered, bringing a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Would you allow me just one more indulgence?”

You leaned your face into his palm, part of you wanting to shy away, but the larger part of you wanting this so badly that you couldn’t bear to wait one more second. “Please.”

Thresh readily locked lips with you again, laying your body down on the futon and quickly covering you with his own body, all while refusing to break the kiss. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed by the intensity of his kisses, letting out a moan as his tongue finally brushed against your own.

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, settling with pressing them against his bare chest. His long side bangs draped down over you, tickling the skin at the collar of your shirt, his sudden warmth making your long clothing feel suffocating.

“My clothes,” you panted, pulling back from the kiss. “Take them off.”

Thresh stared down at you, want in his eyes as he reached down to untie the knots that held your top together. However, it quickly became clear that Thresh was unused to the working of shirts, maybe due to not wearing one himself for so long, as the ties on your shirt seemed to mystify him.

“Just rip it off,” you whined, trying not to laugh at him or the cute look of intense focus on his face. “Now that I’m staying, it’s not like I need these robes anymore.”

Thresh’s eyes flashed, and with one quick motion, his nails split your shirt, skirt and underwear down the middle with a rip that was faster than your eyes could follow.

“…I apologize,” he said, cheeks pink. “Your words always seem to overpower my reason.”

Peeling away your now-ruined clothing, Thresh rested one hand on your breast, cupping it gently with his palm. His touch sent a visible shiver through your hypersensitive skin, your reaction giving Thresh the confidence to touch you more boldly, leaning down to get his mouth on your breasts.

You squirmed under him, his attention to your breasts sending pulses of heat to the apex of your thighs. Your wandering hand drifted up to take a gentle hold on the longer of his horns, Thresh letting out a deep groan against your breasts at the contact.

Raising your other hand to his smaller horn, Thresh was finally forced to pull back from your horns with a moan staring at you with eyes dark with lust as he panted.

“I fear I may lose all restraint if I continue to allow you to touch my horns,” Thresh admitted, sitting back and looking like some sort of demon of temptation under the soft lighting of the room. “I do not want to force anything upon you.”

“You aren’t,” you replied. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted like this. I don’t want to do this with anyone but you, Thresh.”

Thresh stared down at you for a moment before a grin took over his face. “I do not think I will ever keep a soul again. Nothing in this world compares to you, my love.”

Thresh’s loving gaze was making you feel shy, but he quickly distracted you by reaching a hand to his other biceps, pulling off his glove before tossing it to the side where your ripped clothes laid. His hook and lantern were set to the side with more care, quickly being joined by his vest to leave his upper half totally bare.

He normally wore an open vest, so his well-defined abdomen wasn’t a new sight for you, but somehow seeing his nude upper body now felt all new in this context. You watched, transfixed, as Thresh’s biceps bulged out slightly as he stood up to remove his belt to free his hakama pants to be removed next. How had you managed to worm your way into the heart of such a beautiful man? It was so hard to believe that you had gone from being a social pariah to laying here, about to experience an act so intimate that you had thought it would be forever out of your reach.

Thresh let his hakama pants fall to the ground, stepping out of them and kicking them gently to the side. Now fully naked, Thresh’s body was as exposed as yours, his cock so hard that it was pointed straight out in your direction. You shuddered with anticipation, the sight of the handsome spirit unclothed making you feel even more wet between your legs.

Thresh returned to you, settling above you, the tips of his ears as flushed with excitement as his cheeks were. “I do not think I will ever grow tired of seeing you like this.”

Thresh took hold of your legs, looking down at you, noting the want in your own face before he wrapped your legs around his sides, which brought your hips close together. With your bodies sufficiently close, Thresh took his cock in hand, lining himself up to close the final distance between your bodies as he began to slide effortlessly into you, the feeling making both of you moan.

Finding no resistance, Thresh was easily able to slide fully into you, the very tip of his cock settling against somewhere inside you that made your back arch.

“Nothing has ever felt like this,” Thresh choked out as he began to move, the feeling of his cock against your most sensitive spots sending your eyes fluttering closed as you gripped at the sheets under you. “I have never desired anything like I desire you, my little human.”

You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but it was all so much, each movement of his hips bringing you closer and closer to your end. Thresh was more than happy to make up for your hazy brain, keeping up his tempo, his desperate groans of your name sending your heartbeat soaring as you moaned his own back to him.

You were getting really, really close, each thrust Thresh made earning a cry from you as you opened your eyes, tugging his face down as you were overcome with the need to kiss him.

With Thresh even closer, his pelvis began to brush against your clit every time he sank back into you, the resulting increase in pleasure almost too much to take.

“Those humans will never get you back,” Thresh groaned possessively. “They will never see how beautiful you look like this.”

You wanted to reply, to say something, but you couldn’t find the words, clutching Thresh tightly as you came, eyes closing tight as his following thrusts allowed you to ride out the sensations until finally Thresh stilled as well.

Pulling himself gently out of you, he laid down next to you, pulling you to him. You happily snuggled against his chest, feeling tired, but more at peace than you had ever been.

“Thresh,” you whispered, getting a short hum in response. “What you said…”

“What you said earlier about Ahri being right,” came his reply. “This may be the first time I have agreed with her in a long while. Your people have forsaken quite a great treasure to me, one that will cost them so much.”

You pulled back from his chest, waiting for him to say more. It was embarrassing how addicted you were to his praise, but you couldn’t help yourself after so many years of neglect.

“Of course, if you ever wish to return–”

“I won’t,” you quickly denied.

Thresh grinned as he leaned in for another kiss. “Then we will enjoy our forever right here, my sweet little human.”

You had no complaints, closing your eyes as you kissed the man you loved, mentally thanking that thorned branch that had led to you finding the place where you belonged.

[ramp-it-up]

Cuddle Buddies

Pairing: Roommate! Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Minors DNI, RPF, angst, cursing, pining, jealousy, suggestive language, butt slapping, fluff! No smut!  All errors my own. I apologize if you like the smell of patchouli, lol.

A/N: This is an answer to the following ask from @teatro-dira :

Okay so I don't know if this is kinda weird but like an Rafael x reader were they are like really cuddly(like a lot of hugs, cuddling and stuff) friends and roommates and everyone teases them asking them if they're dating. Then Rafael gets a girlfriend which makes y/n lowkey feel betrayed and jealous, but he doesn't realize that. Y/n accidentally ruins their relationship(you chose how). They get into a fight, but it ends in fluff. Hope you understand what I mean:)

Here it goes! I hope you like it!

———-

A series of unfortunate events led you to this situation six months ago.

You were subletting Rafael’s apartment in Santa Monica when production wrapped a month early on his project in Vancouver. He had nowhere to go, and neither did you, so you agreed to share the space.

You vibed, almost as much as he and Daveed did. Folks began to call you the fourth Muskateer, for as much as you, Rafa, Daveed and his girl were always together. 

You all talked, smoked, and created together. You and Rafa especially were always all over each other, keeping each other warm under blankets on the couch, watching movies while you ran your fingers through his hair, in one or another’s bed watching videos, or writing in tandem. 

It was all good, cause Rafa was being a man-whore at the moment with several ladies, and you were just chilling. It was dope. 

Almost.

It would have been all the way dope, except...

Except for the fact that you were in love with Rafa.

You loved sharing the same space with him, because you could smell him when he just got out of the shower, play in his silky hair, and feel his strong arms around you. And when he wore grey sweats…. Damn.  You and your little bullet celebrated every time that happened.

Everyone could tell, except for Rafael.  People ragged on you two so hard, that you vehemently denied it every time, to the point of getting heated.

One night, you side eyed the teaser through a cloud of smoke after catching Rafa’s grimace when they said you two should get together.  Your mood sank at what you perceived was rejection.

“I would NEVER get with Rafa, that’s the homie.  He’s like a brother to me. Ugh. Getting with my brother? No way. We’re just Cuddle Buddies.”

Rafa blinked and then took a toke.

“Exactly, we the homies. Platonic Ride or Dies.  It’ll never happen.”  He passed what he was holding and then stood up. “Cuddle Buddies till the end.”  He sounded disgusted.

“I’m going to go get some food. I’m hungry. What does everyone want?”  After everyone yelled out their orders, you offered to come with.

“Nah, sis.  I’m good.  Gonna clear my head. I’ll be back soon.  Rafa peaced out and you sat back down with the crew.

-------

Ever since that night, Rafa seemed a little distant.  He was always busy, and never had time to sit and kick it with you the last couple of weeks.  You all never seemed to link.

One night, he was home when you came in with groceries.

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that you’d be here!” You put the groceries down on the counter while Rafa was at the stove, cooking up some pasta with marina.

“Mmmmmm. Smells good!” You went and stood very close to him, expecting him to give you a side hug, at least.

He just turned and glanced at you, a smirk lifting one side of his face.

“Will you never learn to keep an umbrella in the car? You always come in soaking wet from the rain.”

Here he was, shaking his head that you didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.  How could this talented genius ever want to be with you?

You just played it off, as usual. “I’m starving. I didn’t think I would make it through cooking, but you’re always clutch, Rafa!” 

Rafa stood there and gaped at you.

“Uhhhhh… I thought you said you were driving down to the Vista to see your mom… I have someone coming over for dinner....”

“No.  She’s decided to go on a cruise to Cabo with her bestie… she just called and told me as she was boarding the ship this afternoon.  The hussy. Tryna be fast with her little friends.”  You laughed.

“So, who’s coming over?  UTK? Wayne? Jimmy?”

You jumped up on the counter and watched as Rafa put some french bread with butter and garlic in the oven.  Smelled like heaven.  Those guys would definitely invite you to stay.

Rafa wiped his hands on the towel that was hanging on the stove. And turned around to face you.

“Her name is Aurora.”

It was like he’d punched you in the gut. He’d NEVER brought one of his heauxes around. You fought the urge to double over, even though you felt nauseous.  When you looked at him, he looked concerned.

“Hey, you okay?”

You jumped down from the counter and quickly nodded your head, laughing weakly.  

“I...uh.. Yeah.  Like I said, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, expecting to be at dinner with my moms by now.”

You grabbed your groceries, putting them up quickly and grabbed an apple, taking it to your room.

“I’m going to get out of your way in a minute, I’ll go over to Carla’s and hang with her tonight. We’ll probably go out and do what we do, you know?”

Rafa still looked worried.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You need more than an apple. Look, stay…”

“NO!”  Your voice was raised and it startled you.  “I mean, I’m not one to be a cock blocker.  I’ll just get my stuff and get ready to go.”

Rafa just watched as you scurried into your room. Why did you feel like crying?  Why did you feel as if you would never breathe properly again?  You got out your phone and called Carla.

20 minutes later, you exited your room dressed for the club with your overnight bag.  There was a strange smell in the room, and it wasn’t pasta.  It was patchouli.  You HATED patchouli.

You didn’t realize you were giving the gas face until Rafa came out of the kitchen followed by a short, but cute woman, with a body like, whoa. 

Of course.

Rafa glared at you and you fixed your face.  That bestie telepathy was on point. Then he looked up and down, as if he were judging your freakum dress.  Well, fuck him.

“Oh, hey!  Y/N, this is Aurora.  Aurora, Y/N.”

Aurora ignored your outstretched hand and went in for a hug. 

“Y/N!  I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you intimately, just like Rafael.”  

You tried to keep your face straight in reaction to her scent, then gave her a sideye. 

Was it the inept way she rolled the ‘R’ in Rafael, or the thinly veiled shot at your relationship? Either way, you felt like slapping the shit out of her. You looked at Rafa, but then just cleared your throat.

“And I’ve heard so much about you as well.  You’re all Rafa talks about.” He shook his head behind her.  “Nice to meet you, but I’m headed out for the night.”

It was then that Aurora saw your bag and brightened up.  

“Oh!  You do look nice. Are you leaving, you sure you don’t want to stay?”  

You could smell insincerity a mile away. Even patchouli couldn’t cover that up. You just smiled at her.  

“No ma’am.  I’ve got places to see and people to do.”  You winked at them as you walked out of the door, holding up your umbrella.  “Stay dry y’all.”

You made it out the door without crying of jack slapping that little bitch or Rafa.  You were winning.  

But why did it feel like you’d lost everything?

-----

You and Rafa successfully avoided one another for days.  He was either over Aurora’s or you were with Carla, your mom, or just stayed in your room.

One time you passed Rafa and Aurora on the couch watching a movie on your way to the kitchen to get something to eat.  Rafa’s head was in her lap.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Rafa’s slightly raised voice say: “Don't’ mess with the swoop, Babe.”

‘Babe.’ He called her Babe. That’s it. It was time for you to go. 

You were cramping Rafa’s style.  You just tiptoed back in your room, making little to no noise so that they could watch the movie in peace. You didn’t see Rafa looking at your door after you went in.

----

A week later, you let Rafa know your move out date.

“Wait. What?”

Rafa’s mouth was open. You repeated yourself.

“Well, I’m going to move in with Carla. She’s going to let me ride her couch until this other place comes open in three weeks. It’s a sweet deal, near the studio….”

Rafa’s mind was racing, you could see the gears turning.

“Well… why don’t you just stay here until then, we got a good thing going.” He looked upset. What was up with him?

“Rafa… I’m just in the way.  You’ve got Aurora…”

“Hold up, wait.  We aren’t even that serious.  I mean, I just stopped seeing Bev and Chrissy. He looked at his watch. Last week.”

You laughed at Rafa’s fuckboi ways.  “Well, what about me? I might want to date someone and bring them over…”

Rafa’s face changed.

“Bring someone over here…”

But it didn’t sound like an invitation, it sounded like a threat.  

It was your turn to stare at Rafa.  “What the hell…?”

He straightened up.  “I mean, any of your guests are welcome here.”

You sighed and shook your head. 

“See what I mean? Things are getting tense, I want us to stay friends, not be tight with each other all the time.”

Rafa grinned.  “You said ‘tight.’”  He dodged a couch pillow thrown at his head.

“What are you, a 12 year old?”  You were rolling.  He really was one of your best friends.  But you needed space to get over yourself.  And him.

“Okay.  You grown.  But just know that you don’t have to go.  And know that I will miss the hell out of you.”  

Rafa came over to hug you, and he held you longer than normal, and then kissed the top of your head.  You looked up at him, still in his arms and it was like…

You cleared your throat.  “Well, I guess I better go start to pack.”

Rafa stepped back.  “Ok.”

Both of you hurried to your perspective rooms.

-----

One night, a couple of days later, Rafael came into your room without knocking.

“What did you say to Aurora?”

You were laying on your stomach on your phone, in just your t-shirt an panties.  You rolled over and looked at him. 

“What are you talking about?”

Rafa wasn’t yelling, but he was keyed up.

“What did you tell her the last time you talked?”

You put your head down to think, then brought it back up. 

“I just said that I was going to miss playing in your hair when we watched movies, that I knew it was your favorite thing.”

Rafa nodded, then shook his head.  

“Y/N, you’re the only one I let touch my hair.  Aurora has barely been allowed near it.”

“That’s…. New.”  You were perplexed.

“No it isn’t. Everyone knows I don’t like people messing with my hair.  Aurora accused me of having feelings for you.”

You were sitting up now, crossing your arms and standing before Rafa.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Rafa looked like he was about to explode. He threw his hands up in the air and walked out of your room.

“OF COURSE IT IS! RIDICULOUS!”  He was really agitated.

“Yeah, I know all too well that you think it's ridiculous for me to want to be with you.  I don’t know what makes you think I’m not good enough for you?”

“Good enough for ME?  You’re the one running around with all the model/actress types, you’re the one who thinks I’m beneath you.  You said so that one night when you said we were ‘Platonic Ride or Dies.’”

“Here we go! Total distortion! Did you hear what you said before I said that?  You said I was like your brother.  Your brother.  You think it’s that disgusting to be with me.”

“I just said that because you made a face when what’s her face said we should be together.”

“I made that face because I was imagining fucking your brains out.  It was probably my cum face.”

You stopped and stared at him, mouth hinged open.

“The fuck?”  You burst out laughing.  “You are mad outta pocket Rafa.” Rafa was rolling too.  “But you ain’t gotta lie.”

Rafa stopped laughing.  

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

He was moving closer to you. This felt… dangerous. He looked up and down your body, and it was the first time you felt uncomfortable being comfortable around Rafa.

“Because you told me that you wanted to just be Cuddle Buddies a month after you came back from Canada. You drew a line in the sand.”

Rafa shook his head at you and smiled, green-blue eyes twinkling. 

“I knew you were too zooted.  I shouldn’t have tried to shoot my shot.”

“Run that back for me?”  You couldn’t believe what he was saying right now.

“What I said was..I wanted to be Cuddie buddies. Cuddie is… you know…”  

He pointed to your crotch.

You looked down, and then up at him again. “I can’t with you Rafa….” 

Rafa tilted his head in that sexy way at you. 

“Can you really not?” 

You were stunned.  Rafa continued.

“But I’m serious. When you came back with ‘Cuddle Buddies,’ I thought you were blowing me off and just wanted to be friends. So, I just settled into the friend zone.”

“Do you mean you’re attracted to me? Rafa, that’s funny as hell. You want me for my body?”

Rafa raised his eyebrows at you. “Hell yeah. C’mon girl. You know you’re fine.” 

Your cheeks heated up. You stared at him for what must have been a solid minute.  The possibilities of this alternate reality where Rafa liked you like you liked him opened up.

“But, Rafa... I don’t wanna be just cuddie buddies.”

“Oh. Ok, Cool….” Rafa cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at you.

“I want your heart.” 

Rafa paused when he heard that and his face fell as he moved toward you.  He took your arms in his hands.

“Y/N I'm sorry, I can't give you my heart.”

It was your turn to pick up your face.

“’Cause you already have it.” 

His mischievous grin made your stomach flip.  But you were mad.

“Fuck you, Rafa.” You were laughing with happiness, despite him playing too much.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Rafa swooped down and threw you over his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting six months for that invitation.”  

You were trying to kick and scream. 

Raa swatted you on the ass, then smoothed his hand over the cheek that stung.

“The more you struggle, the more you’ll be begging me to stop in a few.”

You struggled some more, but he made it to your bedroom and deposited you on the bed.  He glared down at you, all sexy green-eyed god.

“Try me, Y/N.”

You reached for the drawstring on his sweats.

“If you insist, Rafael.”

-----

Taglist:

@braidedchallah @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @anh1020 @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonybitch @curlyhairclub

[paisley-print]

Near The Water’s Edge:   Chapter Four

After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you ’re forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.

Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks.

Series Master List

Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut. Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Mentions of death, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of police case, police.  Word Count: 

Note: Another heavy chapter, but things will let lighter as the chapters go on. Enjoy the first half of the beach day. 

Tag List:@qytyy @winter-fox-queen​​​​ @sherala007​​​​@inkededucatednnerdy @quica-quica-quica​​​ @hnt-escape​​​ @giizhkens-cedar​​​@heythere-mel​​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​​

The ride passed in comfortable silence, the three of you listening to the radio and Lucy looking out the window at the cars in the next lane. All Frankie could think about was how nice it was to have someone else there to spend the day. He knew Lucy must have been feeling the same way, since he hadn’t seen her so excited about a beach trip in a long while. 

He appreciated how patient you were with her; it was something he noticed even on that first day. The way you refused help until you knew she was alright. That moment had stuck with him more than anything else. 

The memory of what Will said earlier surfaced in his mind. He shifted in his seat and glanced at you. Yes, you were beautiful. Strikingly so. A woman who could walk into a room and turn every head in the place; both men and women alike. Of course Frankie had been taken with you. He tried to suppress it, scolding himself whenever he was alone in bed at night and found his thoughts wandering.... 

His only goal right now was to be your friend because he cared for you and knew that you needed help. He wasn’t sure what kind of help, but he sensed that you were alone and at some point in your life something very bad had happened to you. He wouldn’t pry though, he would wait until you were ready to share. 

-

The beach wasn’t too packed; it was still early in the season and  the tourists hadn’t moved into their summer homes yet. The boys had done an oddly efficient job at setting everything up. When Ben and Will got into a little spat about how to sink the umbrella into the sand , Frankie simply rolled his eyes and continued to spray Lucy with sunblock. It made you laugh, they all seemed so comfortable with one another. 

The day was hot and everybody seemed eager to get into the water, everyone except you and Frankie.  You had bought a bathing suit at the store, intending on going in... but somewhere during the car ride you changed your mind. 

“You can go in if you want,” you told Frankie “I don’t mind just watching.”

He shrugged, “I don’t normally go in either.”

Then just like that the two of you were suddenly alone, both woefully unprepared for any sort of conversation.

You thought of something quickly, filling the silence “the marina was packed today.”

“Yeah, It’s always like that on memorial day. Most of the summer too, be prepared for the restaurant to start getting busy.”

“I prefer it that way. It makes the shifts go faster. So I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you do? I assumed you owned the marina?”

He paused for a moment. “Uh, technically I do. It was a wedding gift from my parents. An uncle had died and left it to them. I think they just wanted to get rid of it, but I have an office manager that does all the upfront stuff….. normally I just work on repairs.”

Married. That wasn’t what you were expecting, but still no ring. “Did you go to school for that?”

“Kind of. I had training for planes, but you would be surprised just how similar the two are.” You gave him a look. He glanced at you and laughed sheepishly. “What?”

“I’m sorry, did you say planes?”

“Yeah”

“You fix planes?”

He smiled and crossed his arms, trying to seem much cooler than he actually was. “I fly them too.”

“You fly pl-....do you take constructive criticism?”

He laughed, “Of course.”

“Lead with that next time.”

He looked at you skeptically. “How am I supposed to lead with that, exactly?”

“You say, hi my name is pilot Frankie …..” 

He shook his head, grinning. “Morales,” he informed you. 

“Hi my name is pilot Frankie Morales, nice to meet you.”

He played along, “but how will I know if people actually like me for me, or they just want me to take them for a ride in a plane?”

You shrugged “it's tough being a celebrity, I don’t make the rules.”

“Oh yeah, celebrity, that’s me,” he said sarcastically. 

You kicked at the sand with your foot. “Also I liked you before I knew you had the coolest hobby in the world. So, you know that you can trust me.”

He glanced over at you and immediately noticed your smile. He had seen you smile before, but they would never quite reach your eyes. This one, he could tell, was real. He opened his mouth to speak when, in the distance, a wave crashed and Lucy squealed with laughter. Both of you turned your heads to look.

“Will Lucy be okay out there?” you asked. She had on a life vest and was being supervised in the shallows by the rest of the adults. Santi was holding onto a boogie board Lucy used to keep herself up. 

“Yeah, I know they seem like idiots but they are good men.” Frankie reached into the cooler to grab a bee and popped the cap off with the bottle opener. “Do you want one?”

You shook your head, “No thank you, but I’ll take a water bottle if you have it.” He set his beer down in his cup holder and reached into the cooler again. The bottle was freezing cold when he handed it to you. Perfect for a sunny day.

You wiped the condensation off on your dress. “Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, taking a sip of beer. 

“Lucy’s mom is she….? Are you two still….? I don’t mean to pry, I guess I’m just a little confused.”

“You and I both,” he said with a sigh. “I’m married but we are not together anymore, haven’t been for a few years.”

“Oh,” you said simply, not finding any clarification in what he told you. If anything, you had more questions, but you didn’t want to push. Besides, it didn’t matter anyway…. you couldn’t, you were married as well. “Does your family live in the area?”

“Nope, they live up north. Katie never really knew her family. She grew up in the foster system and was bounced around until she enlisted at eighteen. It’s just me and Lulu now, and the guys when they find the time to travel here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “It must be hard not having your parents support.”

He shook his head and took another sip. “I expected it, even when I was younger, it seemed as though they were only interested in keeping me alive.” He looked down and started to peel off the sticker on the bottle as he spoke. “They are both doctors, mom is an archaeologist and dad an engineer. He actually helped design parts of the international space station…. I think they valued their careers more than anything else... they still do. The only time they ever came down to see Lucy was right after she was born, aside from that it’s usually a phone call on a holiday and a card with money in the mail.”

Although he tried to play it off as if it were just another part of life, you could see that it still affected him deeply. For a moment you thought about reaching out to take his hand, but you stopped yourself. “It really is their loss, they are missing out on two wonderful people.”

Frankie adjusted the baseball cap on his head, a sheepish little smile playing on his lips at the compliment. “Well, thank you. Lucy and I could say the same thing about you. You’re great with her.”

You glanced back at the little girl. She was smiling happily as Ben pulled her along on the boogie board. “I think little girls need to be protected, but not only that - they need to be seen and heard. She is already so independent and fierce. I can see how you encourage her to be her own person and not fit into any one mold. That’s important for little girls to learn.”

He laughed, “Yeah, she definitely gives me a run for my money, that's for sure. She can already repair an engine better than most men I know.”

A large gust of wind came through and took hold of the multi-colored beach ball beside you. Both you and Frankie sprang from your seats to race after it. The thing was fast, and you could not stop it from crashing into the waves. You noticed just how much cooler it was near the water’s edge. Although the temperature outside was sweltering, the Atlantic still held that winter chill. Both of you stared at the ball as it bobbed up and down with the tide. 

Frankie waved it away with his hand and squinted in the sunlight. “It’s fine, it’ll probably just float down the beach to another family or something.”

You smirked at him “or choke a poor dimwitted sea turtle to death.”

He paused and shot you a pretend glare, then took off his hat, dropped it in the sand and reached for his shirt. 

You giggled “no, no I’m joking. I got it.” You said, starting to strip down to your bathing suit also.

“Well, you gotta be faster than that,” he said, half jogging to the water.

You slipped off your dress easily and ran straight past him into the waves. Frankie was not far behind. You two were pushing against the tide as you reached for the ball. Fingertips just barely brushed against the plastic before it slipped a couple more inches away. This left just enough time for Frankie to swoop in and grab it.

Your stomach hurt from laughing so hard “hey!”

He shrugged, “I’m sorry that I care more about the environment than you.”

You splashed him with water playfully.

-

The two of you swam for another fifteen minutes, chatting about the town and volleying the ball back and forth. Frankie pretended not to see the way the droplets of water clung to your skin and sparkled under the sunlight. When he noticed the little lace pattern on the bottom of your swimsuit, he knew he had been staring for too long and forced himself to look away. The very last thing he wanted to do was scare you away, or make you believe he had some sort of ulterior motives to helping you. 

You both dressed again before walking back up to the chairs. When the two of you returned, the group had already come back from swimming. They were passing around Tupperware full of fruit while Santi was starting up the tiny little grill he had brought. 

“You guys really don’t play around for beach days,” you mentioned to Frankie. 

“I tried to warn you,” he said with a smirk. 

Will had Lucy thrown over his shoulder, carrying her easily with one arm. “Has anyone seen Fry?”

“I’m right here!” Lucy’s little voice drifted out from behind him.

Will started turning, pretending to look for her “Fry! Fry! Where are you!”

Lucy was hardly able to speak through her fit of giggles, “I’m behind you!”

He put her down on the sand, pretending as if he had seen her for the first time. “Jesus Fry! You scared me!”

“Lulu,” Frankie said, “come here so I can put more sunscreen on you.” Frankie took the bottle from the bag and sprayed her again, making sure to get her ears and the tops of her feet as well. He sprayed some in his hands, and Lucy scrunched up her nose as he applied it to her face.

Watching the two of them together made you smile. You were reminded again just how different Frankie was from your husband. David would have felt emasculated by having to take care of a child. If he had attended today, you would be sitting beside him silently the entire time, only getting up to fetch him a beer.

“Do you want some?” Frankie asked, and you were suddenly snapped right back to reality.  

Even though you weren’t threatened by a burn yet, you figured it would be a good idea. “Yeah, thank you.” You offered him your arms, then the front of your legs.

“I used to be terrible with remembering sunblock until I got sun poisoning in Iraq, god never again.”

“Iraq?” you asked, and turned so he could get the backs of your legs.

“Yeah, with the air force” he told you, assuming you already knew. 

Breath hitched in your throat as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. You cringed at the feeling of the warm sunscreen hitting the back of your neck and jerked away. It was enough for the others to notice. You laughed and lied quickly “damn horse flies hurt when they bite. They say you should wash off the bite with soap to get it to stop the swelling. Is there a bathroom here?”

You sounded believable. Becoming an expert liar had been the only thing keeping you alive for so long. 

Frankie felt horrible. He didn’t quite know what he had done to trigger you, but he knew it was something. “It’s pretty far, I can walk with you-”

You shook your head, a wide smile still plastered across your lips. “Nope, I just need a direction.”

Santi jumped in quickly. “That building when we first came in, near the tennis courts.”

You nodded and started forward, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Why was this happening right now? You were fine a moment ago and now you felt as though you couldn’t catch your breath. You shivered, remembering the feeling again and putting your hand on the back of your neck to stop it.

A soldier…. it made sense. You were too stupid to have seen it, the nicknames and the holiday...... 

Thankfully, they were single stall restrooms; you pulled the door shut and locked it behind you. The bottom of the floor was disgusting and filled with wet sand. You lifted yourself up onto the counter and sat, trying to calm down. A soldier, a soldier, you kept repeating to yourself. It was too similar. The anger, the potential for violence…. just like your husband. 

You placed your head in your hands, and suddenly you were back in New Jersey. It was a bitter February, snow still on the ground. You were in your bathroom hiding as David raged in the living room and screamed at his coworker on the phone. A little boy had been killed by his father weeks ago. David was assigned to the case. When the trial came, the jury found the man innocent and let him walk free, even though all the evidence pointed to him as the killer. It was an embarrassment to David and the entire homicide unit

“God fucking dammit, y/n! y/n!”

You pulled yourself up on shaking legs, straightened your dress and walked out. David was red in the face waiting for you. “I thought I told you to call Comcast, did I not?”

“They said that they could get someone out here Wednesday because of the snow-”

He took the television remote and threw it at you as hard as he could; he aimed for your face but it hit your shoulder instead. The plastic connected straight with your collarbone. You doubled over in pain, holding it as it throbbed. He stalked up to you and you moved back, the fear evident in your eyes.

His voice was teetering on the edge of lunacy as he screamed at you.

“I give you a simple fucking job to do and you can’t even get it done. You’re a lazy fat fucking bitch.” he shoved you hard but you manged to keep standing. “Spend all day sitting on your fucking ass while I have to go to work for the both of us! I need the television because I need to see the news coverage of the fucking case! You knew this! Or would you like me to get fired and the both of us live on the fucking streets!” He shoved you again, and you fell against the stone fireplace. Your hands came up to shield your face as he picked up the remote and hit you with it repeatedly. It caught your lip, busting it open. 

You didn’t care about the blood, all you could think about was the gun still holstered in his belt. You got the television fixed the next day-

“Summer?” 

You stood quickly and wiped away the tears from your cheeks, pretending like nothing was wrong. “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” 

It was Frankie. 

You shook your head and smiled in the dingy plastic mirror in front of you. “Yeah, why?”

He could hear that you had been crying. He pushed on the door but it was locked. 

You didn’t like that at all; you slipped off the counter and sat on the floor, against the door. Bracing it closed with your body “I’m fine-”

“You’re crying-”

“No, I’m not I- I get allergies and that horsefly hurt. I am such a baby I’ve always had a low pain tolerance-”

“If it’s something that I did -”

“Nope, it’s nothing that you did. I’m fine, I’m really, really fine I promise. I just got overwhelmed and needed some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you guys can eat without me. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Frankie wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to force anything. “Would you like me to save you a plate?”

“Yes, please.”

You could hear his footsteps start to retreat and relaxed a little. 

“Summer?”

“Yeah?”

Frankie was about to say something, but he thought better of it. He figured it was better to let you have your space now.

[the-bau-quinjet]

A Song For You

Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Summary: Snippets of Steve and Reader's life together as she sings a song she wrote for him.

Warnings: mention of car accident, parents dying, mostly just fluff though

Word Count: 6413

a/n: this is a mess, but I'm happy with it. It's basically a series of blurbs that are not in chronological order so I could follow the song. It's inspired by Like My Father by Jax. :) Sorry if it's confusing, hopefully it all makes sense at the end

Masterlist

Steve had been gone for months on a mission. It wasn’t often his missions lasted that long, so of course one of the few times it happened Y/N needed to tell him something important.

She shook off the annoyance as she got ready for Tony’s gala. He wanted to celebrate the successful mission as soon as Steve and Bucky came home. Of course, everyone tried to reason with him that waiting would be better so that the two super soldiers wouldn’t be exhausted, but Tony refused to listen to logic.

“Nonsense. We’re having the party as soon as they arrive.” He stated matter-of-factly before turning to Y/N. “And you, my dear, are going to sing.”

“Tony, maybe you could at least pretend to phrase it as a question?” Pepper scolded, eyeing the woman in question apologetically.

“Sorry. Will you sing at my party?” He grinned, knowing Y/N would say yes since Tony probably already told everyone she would be performing.

“Tony, you’re a menace.” She eyed him before nodding.

“I am, and you’re wonderful!” He exclaimed. “I happen to know you’ve been working on a new song. Care to sing it for Steve at the party?” He grinned.

“I don’t know how you know about that song, but fine. I think he would like it. Avengers only though! I’ll sing something else for all the guests.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory as she finished getting ready. Luckily she was ready early because Tony came running into the room in a panic.

“He’s here!” Tony’s smile widened as he thought about the nights events. “Let’s go!” He practically pulled her from the room, far too eager to share news that wasn’t his.

Tony had Y/N set up on stage right in time for Bucky and Steve to arrive. She sat behind a piano, ready and waiting for Tony’s cue.

As the guests of honor entered the main ballroom, Tony stepped up to the microphone. Steve stared at Y/N with questioning eyes while ignoring Tony’s speech. She smiled lightly, shaking her head at Tony in an effort to explain.

Steve laughed to himself, wishing for nothing more than to hold her after a long 5 months away.

“Give it up for Y/N L/N!” Tony’s introduction came to a close, signaling for her to start playing. It really was over the top considering he was only introducing her to the people who have become family to her, but she let him do his thing.

“Thanks, Tony.” She smiled fondly at Steve before introducing the song. “I wrote this song for someone special. As you all know, my parents died in a car accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, the song’s not that sad.” She earned a few laughs from her friends before she continued. “Ever since I was little, I wanted a love like theirs. It seemed so magical. Well, I found that love.” She smiled at Steve again.

“This one is called Like My Father.” With the name of the song announce, she started singing. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

I wanna come home to roses

Today had been the day from hell for Y/N. First, she woke up late due to accidentally setting her alarm for 6 pm instead of 6 am. She rushed to get out of the tower on time, only for the subway line she was supposed to take to be closed for repairs, making rushing a complete waste since she was going to be late anyway.

In her haste to leave on time, she forwent breakfast which only made her more irritable. By the time she made it to the studio, she had missed her morning meeting and had to play catchup.

The day only got worse from there. Something went wrong with every song she was meant to work on. Sometimes it was a small thing, like a guitar being out of tune. Other times, the song just didn’t feel right. No matter how many different ideas she tried to work on, she just kept running in circles.

By lunch, she was ready to give up and just go home. Unfortunately, her label was having a meeting to discuss progress for the next album’s lead single. So instead, she tried to cheer herself up with her favorite lunch. Just when she was sitting down to eat, someone bumped into her and spilled the entire meal onto the floor.

Suffice to say, by the end of the day, she was ready to collapse into her boyfriend’s arms and sleep the weekend away. However, her boyfriend was currently on a mission out saving the world, so not even he would be able to lift her spirits this time.

She trudged down the hall toward their shared apartment, eager to take a shower and lay down. It wouldn’t be as comforting without Steve, but it was still better than nothing. Finally reaching the door, she turned the key and shoved her way inside. Instantly, she stopped in her tracks.

The scent of tomato sauce filled the air. The soft sounds of Steve’s old music floated through the air, further adding to the welcoming atmosphere. She stood frozen, eyes filling with tears when Steve noticed her. He smiled, too far away to notice the tears, before turning around to get something from the counter. He held whatever it was in both hands behind his back as he walked up to her, a frown slowly forming as he noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hands instantly moving around his body to hold her only to be impaired by a beautiful bouquet of white and peach colored roses. Her tears fell despite her smile. She eagerly took the flowers, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” She took a few deep breaths, calming herself before leaning back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve replied easily. “Do you want to talk about it?” Despite not knowing exactly what happened, Steve could tell she had a bad day.

She shook her head, her small smile growing as she inhaled the scent of the roses. “No, I just want to be with you.” She leaned further into the embrace, relishing in the comfort Steve always provided.

“That can be arranged.” Steve smiled, carrying her to the couch to eat.

And dirty little notes on post-its

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Steve left for his mission and Y/N was still finding his notes around their shared apartment. Every time she added a newly found note to the box, she read through all the previous notes as well. It never failed to cheer her up.

Most of them were simple comments about how much he loved her. Little sayings like “I love you to the moon and back” or “My love for you is as endless as space.” Despite the cheesiness, she couldn’t help but smile with each new note found.

But this newest note was… different. The 21 words scrawled on a bright blue post-it had her flushing instantly.

“I miss the way you feel pressed up against me, can’t wait to come home and pin you against the wall”

Suffice to say, Steve couldn’t come home soon enough.

And when my hair starts turning gray, he’ll say I’m like a fine wine better with age.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was flat as she emerged from their shared bedroom dressed for another one of Tony’s galas. Steve turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“What? You look amazing.” He smirked when she blushed.

“Steve. I just found a gray hair.” She pouted, holding the offending piece of hair between her thumb and pointer. “Is this what it feels like to be old?”

“You’re not old.” He chuckled at her dramatics. “And even when all of your hair is gray, I’ll love you even more. Like cheese…” He paused, trying to think of a better comparison. “And wine, you just get better with age.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before moving to throw the hair away.

“I mean it. I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.” He smiled, a familiar fondness in his eyes. She moved closer to embrace him.

“I love you too.”

I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship.

She was nearly running down the street, doing her best to slow down the dog pulling her forward.

“Hudson! Stop!” She tried to speak calmly like her manager- the dog’s owner- instructed, but it was no use. Hudson would not stop running, no matter how hard she tried to make him. “Hudson!” She yelled his name again, surprised when he actually halted.

So surprised in fact, that she was still hurtling forwards, tripping over the now stationary animal. She braced herself for impact, eyes squeezing shut and hands sticking out to catch herself, only for the impact to never come. Instead, two warms hands caught her mid-fall.

Her eyes shot open, heart racing and breathing labored. The man who caught her helped her steady herself on her feet before letting go, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She breathed out, still taken aback by the turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” He replied kindly. “You’re dog’s pretty strong.” His grimace at his own awkwardness went unnoticed by her as she looked at the dog in question.

“My friends’ dog actually. I’m dog sitting this week.” She smiled, relieved to shift the topic of conversation from her to the dog. “He normally listens really well, but I guess he really wanted to get to the park. I’m Y/N, and this here is Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Steve.” He shook her hand, blushing slightly from the contact. Before she could reply, Hudson leaped at a squirrel, pulling her off balance again. Steve reached out to steady her again.

“Here, let me help.” He shifted the leash from her hand to his own, having a much easier time resisting Hudson’s pulling.

“Thank you… again.” She smiled.

The two walked around the park with Hudson every day that week, becoming fast friends. She wasn’t offended when he didn’t recognize her as one of the biggest names in music, just as he wasn’t offended it took three walks for her to realize he was that Steve Rogers.

They understood each other, despite the wild differences in occupation. Steve could easily relate to Y/N’s aversion to the media. Y/N knew what it felt like to have a team of people relying on you. The two just clicked, and thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

A kiss on the forehead. A date night.

“Hey Steve.” She greeted him warmly when they met up for their weekly coffee. He smiled, but didn’t verbally respond.

The two got their coffee, sitting at a table hidden towards the back. Steve’s replies were short, as if he was thinking of something else during their conversation. By the fifth comment of hers that he merely nodded his head or hummed in response too, Y/N decided to address it. “Are you okay?”

“Go out with me.” He replied quickly, eyes going wide when he realized what he said. Her own eyes widened in response, taken by surprise. “Sorry! I just, I mean- let me start over.” He pleaded, relief filling him when she nodded.

“We’ve been friends for a while now…” She nodded along, eyes still wide. “But, I want more. Let me take you to dinner. And not like we’ve been doing. Let me take you on a date?” He smiled nervously, hands fidgeting with the lid of his coffee cup.

“I’d like that.” She replied simply, unable to form a more complicated sentence due to the butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” He released his breath, unaware he had been holding it. When she nodded, a wide smile appeared on his face. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.”

“You mean I have to wait?” She pouted playfully as they both stood up to leave. He laughed, moving his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the cafe.

“Just until tomorrow.” He smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before helping her into her car.

“Tomorrow then.” She smiled. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Fake an apology after a fight

“Y/N?” Steve questioned as he entered their apartment. He looked around, unsurprised to see her covered in blankets on the couch. “I’m sorry.” He tried for a small smile, knowing it was of no real use.

“No you’re not.” She pouted, rolling her eyes. “But I forgive you anyway.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. He jumped at the chance, quickly moving to hold her close to him.

“I am sorry we fought.” He spoke up after a few minutes, still trying to clear the air.

“Me too. It was stupid.” She shook her head, cuddling closer to him. “I just don’t understand why you like it.” She made a face, grimacing at just the thought.

“It’s good! Pizza has really taken on a whole new life since the 30s.” Steve quipped, smiling when you laughed.

“That doesn’t mean pineapple is an okay topping.” She could fell herself getting worked up again, but ultimately the two burst into a fit of giggles. What a stupid fight.

I wanna road trip in the summers

“Steve! You were supposed to turn there!” Y/N laughed as Steve grumbled about the GPS and his preference for maps. “This is why you should’ve let me drive.”

“Nope, because then I couldn’t surprise you.” He smirked, briefly looking at her in the passenger seat.

“What surprise?” She smiled fondly, knowing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You’ll see. Now turn off the GPS, we’re not actually going home.”

Steve drove for the next few hours until the two arrived at a small house just off the beach in Maine. He pulled into the driveway, turning to find Y/N asleep with her head pressed against the window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” He smiled at her groggy state, laughing when her eyes lit up.

“Are we in Maine?” Her eyes filled with tears, a combination of nostalgia, Steve’s surprise, and residual sleepiness the cause.

“We are. As close as I could find to where you used to come when you were little.” He responded, a shy smile on his face. Despite how long they’d been together, Steve was always nervous about surprising her. “I talked to your manager, and you’ve got the weekend off. We’re going to just relax on the beach for three days.”

“It’s perfect.” She gave him a watery smile, pulling him from the back of his neck until her lips met his. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just-“ Y/N cut him off with another kiss. It was passionate and heated despite the limited area for movement in the car.

“I love you.” She breathed out the words quickly, but meant it with her whole being. “I love you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Tears still burned in her eyes, but the overwhelming happiness she felt made it worth it.

Steve looked shocked at her proclamation, but quickly recovered. “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Y/N knew exactly what he meant with those words, and it filled her with so much happiness she thought she might combust. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

They shared a few more quick pecks before finally getting out of the car.

I wanna make fun of each other

Meeting Steve’s friends was nerve wracking for a multitude of reasons.

Steve was the only person Y/N had outside of her career. All of her friends were somehow tied to her music, except Steve. Her parents died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. If things went poorly with Steve’s friends, would he leave too?

Plus, all of his friends are superheroes. That’s an intimidating group of people to meet even if you aren’t trying to win them over so you can keep dating their friend.

“Just relax, they’re going to love you.” Steve whispered into her ear as the two rode the elevator up to the main residential floor. Steve did what he could to keep the event simple. It was just drinks with his friends, who happened to be Avengers.

“If you say so.” She smiled nervously, laughing to herself. Before Steve could reply with more words of encouragement, the elevator doors were opening. Steve lead her down the hall to a room that resembled a lounge in a fancy hotel. Bars lined two of the walls, a mixture of blue and white furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

“Ahh, here they are!” Tony Stark quickly rose from his seat, ready to meet the woman stealing away all of the Captain’s time.

“Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Tony Stark, I know.” She quipped. In her stress to meet all of Steve’s friends, she forgot to mention that she had already met the billionaire. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” Steve questioned a the same time Tony recognized you. His jaw dropped as he turned back to Steve.

“We met at a fundraiser a few years ago-“ Tony jumped in before you could finish the explanation.

“You’re dating Y/N L/N? The Y/N L/N? Famous singer-songwriter, been topping the charts for years, Y/N L/N?” He balked, eyes rapidly flicking between Steve and Y/N.

“Um… yes?” Steve questioned Tony’s reaction, unsure why he was so surprised. “I told you her name already…” He shook his head, waiting for the teasing he knew was incoming.

“You didn’t mention it was actually her! I just thought it was someone with the same name!” Tony nearly yelled, still thrown off by the surprise.

“What’s going on over here?” Natasha walked up to the trio, one eyebrow lifted at all the noise.

“Y/N L/N!” Tony gestured to her. She nervously waved to Natasha, sticking her hand out in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” She mumbled, one hand still holding Steve’s in a death grip.

“You too, I’m Natasha.” The two women shook hands, giving Tony time to finally find his words.

“I have to know, did Capsicle recognize you when you met?” Tony lead everyone back to the couches, foregoing the rest of the introductions to start pestering you with questions.

“I think he’s a bit outside of my target audience age wise. I don’t hold it against him.” Y/N replied, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh snap, she just called you old.” Sam chimed in, reaching out a hand to introduce himself. “Sam Wilson.”

You smiled at him, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Here’s the real question. Did you recognize him?” Bucky questioned, already knowing the answer. Steve introduced Y/N to Bucky early on in their friendship when Bucky followed him to one of their weekly coffee dates.

“Bucky, you already know the answer to that.” Y/N deadpanned, not eager to share her lack of knowledge on world events. Steve cut in to answer before Bucky could reply.

“She did not. Told me the name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.” Steve laughed as he teased you.

“You make me sound so stupid! I knew who Captain America was, I just didn’t realize it was you.” She huffed, annoyed with how quickly the tables turned.

Steve changed the topic by moving to introduce her to the rest of the avengers in attendance; Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and Peter.

Y/N continued to share stories with the group, laughing and joking at both her and Steve’s expense. Steve smiled fondly as he watched her interact with his friends, getting along just as well as he knew she would.

I wanna rock out to Billy Joel

“Stupid. All of these ideas are stupid. How am I supposed to put out another album when I can’t even write one decent song.” Y/N huffed to herself, unaware of Steve’s presence in the room.

He moved silently through the room as she continued writing down and crossing out ideas. Suddenly, the sound of Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire filled the room.

“Steve?” She jumped at the noise, smiling when she found him next to the record player. “Billy Joel?’ She questioned.

“You played me this song after a bad mission. Told me to think about it whenever I needed a reminder that the world’s problems aren’t my fault. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“I love you.” She got up from the couch, eager to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you too.” He returned her hug, careful not to actually crush her bones.

The two of them spent the next few hours playing Billy Joel, dancing and singing around the apartment.

And flip our kids off when they call us old

“Okay, grandpa.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! I’m the only one allowed to make fun of how old he is.” Y/N playfully glared at Sam, enjoying their newfound friendship. “Plus, he’s younger than Bucky.”

“Rude.” Bucky called from the other couch, mostly ignoring Sam and Y/N’s bickering. It was a bit weird for him to hear someone else yelling at Sam, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Everyone calls him old.” Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion playing across his face.

“Yeah, but when it’s not me I have to defend him. Like when Pepper defends Tony from Morgan.” She easily compared her and Steve’s relationship to the couple, not realizing the weight of the moment.

“You see your relationship like Tony and Pepper?” Bucky questioned, now completely focused on Y/N.

She shrugged casually, unaware of the tension she created. “I mean, yeah. I think that’s where we headed.” She would be the first to admit she loved Steve more than she’s ever loved a boyfriend before. She likes to think Steve feels the same. “Why do you ask?”

Bucky shook his head, trying his best to seem casual. “Just curious is all.” He waited a few minutes before leaving, allowing Sam and Y/N to start up their conversation again. As soon as he was out of the room, he asked Friday for Steve’s location.

He had news to report.

He’ll accidentally burn our dinner

“Honey, I’m home!” Y/N called as she walked through the door. She was in a surprisingly good mood after a mediocre day.

“You seem happy.” Steve greeted as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He pulled her close, kissing her before resting his chin on top of her head.

“I am happy. You’re here, what’s there to be mad about?” She squeezed him tighter, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

“You make me happy too.” He pulled her onto the couch, eagerly kissing her after the day apart. He had returned from a mission just before she left for work, and seeing each other in passing was not enough.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too- is something burning?” She leaned away from him, sniffing the air.

“Shit!” He jumped from the couch, running into the kitchen as you laughed at his antics.

“Steve, language!” She called out in mock shock, laughing harder as he whined about burnt pizza.

And let me be the Scrabble winner

“Steve, sucks at Scrabble? Since when?” Wanda questioned as she ate brunch with Y/N and Nat.

“Um, always?” Y/N replied as if it was obvious.

“I have never seen Steve lose a game of Scrabble.” Nat chimed in, smirking as if she already knew what was going on (and lets face it, she probably did).

“Well, I always beat him.” She shrugged. Wanda smirked, clearly forming a plan.

“Well, you’ll just have to play Scrabble tonight and Nat and I will check if he can play better words or not!” Nat nodded along having seen this plan coming.

“Fine.” Y/N agreed, knowing there was no way of talking them out of this.

-

“Steve! Let’s play Scrabble!” Y/N smiled knowing Steve would give her anything she asked for. He walked into the living room with the box, a grin on his face.

The two of them set up the game and drew letters, immediately jumping into the game. After a few turns, Y/N texted Nat and Wanda to come into the living room to enact their plan. She watched from the corner of her eye as the two women watched Steve rearrange his letters.

When he played CAT for 7 points, Wanda gasped. Steve jumped slightly, turning around to investigate the noise.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s jaw dropped as she realized Steve’s been letting her win.

“He was all set to play ADEQUATE, for probably a billion points, and he played CAT instead!” Wanda pointed accusingly at Steve while Nat just grinned.

“You’ve been letting me win this whole time?” Y/N threw a pillow at him, upset with the confirmation.

“Not every time! Sometimes I have bad letters.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “You just look so happy when you win.”

A small smile took over Y/N’s frown. How could she be annoyed when he was just trying to make her happy.

“I love you.” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog look. “But don’t go easy on me this time!”

“I love you too.” Steve smirked knowingly and suddenly Y/N was rethinking everything.

And when my body changes shapes, he’ll say ‘oh my god you look hot today’

“I look fat.” Y/N huffed as she plopped down on the couch, still trying to find a dress to wear out with Steve tonight.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve commented from the kitchen, causing her to shriek.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She placed her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating from Steve scaring her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But you do look beautiful.” He smirked as he walked closer, easily lifting her from the couch. “You look hot everyday.”

He kissed her passionately to convey just how much he believed what he was saying.

I need a man who’s patient and kind

“Steve, I need a few more minutes!” She called as she ran into their bedroom from the office. The two of them were meant to be leaving for dinner 45 minutes ago, but Y/N’s manager forced her into a last minute meeting with a potential collaborator.

“That’s fine.” He called back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, love.”

“How are you so patient.” Y/N huffed as she quickly changed clothes, annoyed with herself for delaying their plans.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. “It happens. I’ve missed dates for mission before.”

“Yeah, but that’s important.” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace.

“So is your work.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Not so important it couldn’t wait a day.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to just breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve questioned, genuinely confused.

“For being so kind and understanding. For never making me feel like my job is less important than yours, even though it totally is. For being you.” She replied, easily listing things she’s thankful for.

“Thank you for being you.” He replied casually, still holding her to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled before wiggling from his arms to finish getting ready.

Gets out of the car and holds the door

“I’m finally ready. Let’s go!” Y/N called, fully letting go of her annoyance at her manager for delaying her dinner plans.

“Perfect.” Steve grabbed his keys before turning to look at her. He sucked in a breath, eyes slowing gazing over her body. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed, kissing him on the cheek in response. Steve lead her to the car, opening the door for her, pressing a kiss to her lips before jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Where are we going?” She questioned, eager to finally be able to focus on him.

“Dinner.” He replied, a cheeky grin forming.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” She deadpanned, smiling as he laughed.

They discussed anything and everything they could think of as Steve drove to the restaurant, topics ranging from new songs they both liked to what a T-Rex would have for breakfast if it could cook like a person.

Eventually, the car pulled to a stop outside of a small, family owned Italian place. The lights were on, but there was nobody seated at any of the tables.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Y/N questioned, confused by his smile.

“They’re open… just for us.” He smiled shyly. “I wanted you to have a peaceful dinner, so Tony helped me find a place I could book for us for the night. No Y/N L/N or Captain America fans to interrupt.”

“Steve…” She trailed off, unable to form words. She hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and she was speechless. He walked back around the car, opening the door and guiding her inside. She let him lead her all the way through the building until they reached the outdoor seating.

A string of tapered lightbulbs was strung across the patio, lighting up a single table in the middle. A few candles littered the area, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him before sitting down. Before she could say anything else, a familiar face greeted her.

“My name is Sam, and I’ll be serving you this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Sam smiled at your shocked expression.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” She laughed, confused and overwhelmed with joy.

“I told you, nobody to interrupt us tonight.” Steve smiled, glaring at Sam for playing around. “Sam, I already told you what to bring out.”

“Couldn’t resist.” Sam winked, quickly returning with the drinks Steve requested. Y/N and Steve thanked him before returning to their conversation.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” Y/N spoke softly, still blown away by the effort and planning Steve must have put into this.

“I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.” He smiled, taking her hadn’t across the table. “Now, I’ll bet you’re hungry since we were supposed to eat an hour ago.” As if on cue, Sam returned with Bucky, both carrying plates of food. “Let’s eat.”

The two of them continued their conversation from the car as they ate, topics again roaming all over the place. Before she knew it, Y/N had finished eating and Sam was back with dessert.

She looked down at the peach cobbler, laughing to herself. “You know me so well.” She smiled, grinning even more when he offered to share his chocolate cake. “The best of both worlds.”

When she finished eating and looked back up at Steve he was missing from his spot across the table. Instead of sitting in his chair, he was kneeling on the patio beside the table, a velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Suddenly everything made sense. The lack of rushing, the completely private restaurant, not even having servers in the building. He wanted this to be a private moment.

“Y/N, the day I met you changed my life. I’ll have to thank Hudson for dragging you into the park that day, because I’ve never met anyone as special as you. Every moment with you is like a gift, and I want to spend the rest of my days experiencing life with you. Will you marry me?”

She nodded for a few seconds before finally finding her voice. “Yes.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Steve to delicately place the ring on her finger. “I love you so much.” She smiled, throwing herself into his arms the second he stood up.

“I love you too.” He replied, framing her face with his hands before kissing her.

I wanna slow dance in the living room like we’re 18 at senior prom

The ride home from dinner was filled with hand holding, giddy squeals, and hundreds of “I love you’s” from both Steve and Y/N. They eagerly ran back to their apartment, giggling like teenagers, high on love.

Steve quickly pulled her into the living room, kissing her over and over. She reciprocated, eager to share her happiness.

“Steve?” She questioned between kisses, waiting for him to hum in response. “Will you dance with me?” She smiled at him. Surprisingly, the two had never really danced together before. The only opportunity would have been at one of Tony’s parties, but they’re always so busy mingling with everyone.

“I’d love to.” He replied, that same fond smile on his face that she’d grown to love more than anything. She clapped, running over to the record player. She chose the first love song she could find, Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

As the music played, the two swayed together, feeling more in love than ever before. Steve quietly sung the words in her ear, expressing all the raw emotion he’d been feeling since she said yes.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Y/N joined him, singing along to convey her own happiness as well.

“And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

They danced around the living room for a few songs, letting the record play through. It wasn’t until the music stopped that they even realized the song changed, too lost in the feeling of being together.

And grow old with someone who makes me feel young

I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom

“We’re getting married tomorrow.” Y/N floated through the halls, humming Cheek to Cheek again. After dancing to it the night of their engagement, the couple decided it would be their first dance song. Steve walked up behind her, picking her up and spinning around until they reached the kitchen.

“We are.” He replied, just as elated as her. She giggled playfully, smiling wider than ever before. She was just about to say something when Nat and Wanda bust into the room.

“C’mon. It’s time to go!” Wanda called, gathering Y/N’s belongings.

“Where?” The woman questioned, still wrapping in Steve’s arms.

“You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.” Wanda spoke as if it was obvious.

“Nat?” Y/N questioned, hoping someone would understand it was just a superstition. Nat just shrugged, helping Wanda as she pulled you out of the room.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve called after her, a smile on his lips as he thought about seeing you again.

-

Standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, everything she prepared to say dissolved from her mind. She got lost in his blue eyes, listening to him recite his vows. All the love she felt exploded in one quick statement.

“You make me feel young.” She blurted out the words without thinking.

“Is that another old man joke?” He crinkled his eyebrows, confused by the exclamation. The onlookers chuckled.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” She laughed, burying her face in his chest. “I just mean, we’re grown adults.” He nodded, still confused. “But when I’m with you, I feel like a kid again. Like all my problems go away and I can just be in love with you. Like my parents were.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about the gravity of her statement.

Steve knew how much her parents love influenced her life. She had multiple songs inspired by their relationship and happiness.

“Oh, sweetheart. You make me feel young too. Like how I should have felt as a kid.” He decided against further explanation, not wanting to weigh down the ceremony with talk of war and his sickly youth.

“I just, I never thought I’d actually find a love like theirs, despite how much I wanted to. I think they would’ve loved you.” Steve wiped her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers just feeling the need to be close.

“My ma would’ve loved you too.” He replied, his own throat getting tight. They cried as they finally said “I do”, no place they’d rather be.

And if he lives up to my father, maybe he can teach our daughter

Y/N rose from the piano as she sang the last line, exposing her growing belly to the group of Avengers, but more specifically to Steve.

What it takes to love a queen, she should know she’s royalty.

Everyone cheered for her performance, but her eyes were only on Steve’s. His jaw hung open, tears pooling in his eyes. She made her way to him, everyone moving out of her way.

As soon as she reached Steve, he pulled her into a gentle hug, eagerly kissing her.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too.” She replied, just as emotional as he was.

“Are you really pregnant?” He leaned back, chuckling at the “duh” look on her face. She wiped his tears as they fell.

“I found out just after you left.” She smiled, leaning into him as he lowered his forehead to hers.

“We’re going to have a daughter.” He sounded breathless, overwhelmed with the news.

“I would’ve told you in private, but Tony insisted on having this party.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You wrote me a song.” He smiled, still holding her close.

“Oh, baby. I’ve written you dozens of songs.” She laughed when he leaned back in confusion. “They’re not all good. I wanted to finish the album before I played it for you. This was the last song.” She smiled, still overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of her.

“I love you. So much.” They spoke at the same time, swaying together as Tony invited all the remaining guests into the ballroom. They missed the song, but it was clear to everyone the room how much the two loved each other.

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

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marvel taglist:

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[bouncyirwin]

So after reading Knock Knock, Let the Devil in again (I can’t praise you enough with how good that story is ♥️) and I’m so invested in the the dynamic between Shikamaru, Sakura, and Kakashi!

And because I have a question (and I hope I’m not bothering you by asking this 😭) how do you think Kakashi and Shikamaru would react if Sakura either came back from a mission seriously injured or if they found her seriously injured from a mission?

Hiii, thank you so much for this ask, I’m always so ready to gush about these three!

When I read this ask, inspiration quite literally slammed into me and I churned this out in a sprint session. Oops.

Word Count: 2,126 words

I present to you a one-shot in the knock knock-verse.

It was too early in the day to function, yet Shikamaru was in the Hokage’s office bustling about, feeling only half-human as he guzzled on his third coffee. “Fuckin’ paperwork,” he muttered disdainfully at the sight of an ungodly pile marked with his name.

That had to violate some natural law. How this became Shikamaru’s routine was beyond him.

Once upon a time, he professed that his deepest wish was to lead a mediocre life. And here he was.

Tsunade showed up ten minutes late, visibly drunk and doing very little to conceal it. “Morning,” she tossed over her shoulder and made a beeline for the coffee machine.

“Hokage-sama,” Shikamaru said, studying the dark circles under her eyes and her ashen pallor. “You look …”

He clamped his mouth shut. Was it worth getting assigned a D-rank to let her know she looked like shit? Probably not.

“Save it kid, I know,” she waved a casual hand and slumped in her chair. “Couldn’t care less with the night I pulled.”

“Drinking again, Hokage-sama?” he inquired with polite interest.

“Ha,” she said. “I wish.”

When he raised an eyebrow, she elaborated, slumping even further in her chair. “Sakura,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “They brought her back yesterday.”

Shikamaru’s heart sank. “Brought her back?”

“Yes, there was an ambush and she was badly injured—cracked every one of her ribs, that idiot. And the hospital was out of B-positive blood so Shizune had to sit the healing session out to donate blood. Nearly ran myself dry trying to keep her breathing…” Tsunade was scrubbing at her face but Shikamaru wasn’t listening anymore—he could barely hear her over the deafening roar of his heartbeat.

“Is she alive?” he demanded once he found his voice. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes, but she’s going to need plenty of rest—” the rest of her sentence remained a mystery for Shikamaru tore out of the room with a single-minded focus.

In the space between heartbeats, rationality was tossed out of the window. It left behind a desperate and half-crazed person—he needed to see her, to hear her heartbeat, to see the lively green of her eyes and he wasn’t going to rest until it happened.

He burst through the hospital doors undoubtedly looking like he’d escaped an asylum. The nurse he cornered shot him a bewildered look. “Sir, are you—” she began to say when he cut her off.

“Haruno Sakura,” he demanded breathlessly. “Her room. Where can I find her?”

“Sir,” she attempted again, sounding a little exasperated. “Haruno-san just underwent extensive surgery, she’s not allowed visitors, only family members can see her.”

Shikamaru pinned her with a no-nonsense look. “Akane-san,” he read off her name tag. “By order of the Hokage, I’m here to see Haruno Sakura.”

Akane shuffled nervously. “Do you have an official slip?”

He arched an eyebrow at her, as if to say ‘really?’.

“I-I might get in trouble,” her eyes shifted unsurely. “I need to put you down as a relative and you’re… what would I mark you down as, sir?”

It occurred to him a second later that he was being a total ass. But rationality had already fled. He was now a mess of frayed nerves.

The toddler bawling in the background wasn’t helping his case, and neither was the frantic husband demanding to see his wife at the reception, babbling about … oh.

Shikamaru turned back to the nurse, and before he realised what he was saying, he blurted. “Her husband. Mark me down as her husband.”

Akane blinked. “Oh.”

Shikamaru stared her down, daring her to argue with him. But she simply nodded and scribbled something on her chart. “Right. Of course. Follow me.”

As they stalked through clinical hallways, Shikamaru’s heart rose in a crescendo, worry and nervousness swirling in his chest in a toxic mix. What would he see upon reaching her room? Was she in pain? Was she even lucid? Gods, what if she was in a coma? What if she’d hurt herself so irreparably that it cost her career?

His mind raced with sickly thoughts until his stomach roiled and his face tinged green.

Akane stopped at room 217 and there she was.

“Oh gods,” Shikamaru whispered.

She was hooked to so many wires. Oxygen tubes and an IV and a heart monitor and tubes he didn’t even recognise. She looked frail and broken, too small amidst white sheets and beeping monitors.

He heard Akane quietly slip out of the room and was glad for it because his knees nearly buckled.

Sakura wasn’t awake. Hell, she didn’t even look alive, her face so pale where it wasn’t bruised blue and purple.

Numbly, his feet carried him to her side, his breath a short and rapid thing that barely saturated his lungs.

There was blood caked beneath her fingernails and in the cracks of her lips. His eyes stung faintly as they slid over to the heart monitor.

It was too slow.

“Oh god,” he said again, every cell in his body congested with fear.

He was afraid to even reach out and touch her, lest she broke apart under his fingertips. Delicately, ever so delicately and with trembling fingers, he ghosted a light stroke across the apple of her cheek.

“Sakura…” he said feebly, wishing her eyes would just open.

Except they didn’t. And her heart monitor droned on sluggishly in the background, crawling heartbeats that served more in adding to his anxiety than diminishing it.

It was beating. But it wasn't beating enough. What if it stopped beating?

Shikamaru wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t allowed to die. Not yet. Not ever. He didn’t care what laws governed this cursed world, this was Sakura, she was spring incarnated, and she wasn’t allowed to die.

His fingers curled around her hand, and he wished for the first time in his life that he could heal. That he could bleed strength into her the way she did to him.

It was getting difficult to breathe. What if she died?

What then?

Fuck, he hadn’t even told her he loved her.

His vision swam, rendering the room a splash of colours and pink. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t breathe.

In the muddled daze of anxieties and fears, Shikamaru wished he had the foresight to grab Kakashi.

He’d never needed an anchor more than he did in that second.

*

Kakashi was having an incredibly shitty day.

His coffee machine broke down, he spilled tea over his mission report and he mixed a black shirt with his coloured laundry and now half of his clothes were beyond repair.

“Dammit,” he sighed, tossing his book aside. He couldn’t even read, busy as he was dwelling on his ruined laundry.

He took one dispassionate look at his soggy report and groaned. “What a mess,” he’d actually attempted to do this one on time. Served him right for breaking his routine.

Kakashi grabbed his weapons holster and stepped out for some much needed air. Maybe he should just turn in a tea-flavoured report—perhaps if he offered Tsuande a bottle of sake she’d make an exception and accept it.

He made a beeline to her office, remembering he was due for a debrief. But what he found upon his arrival wasn’t what he expected.

Tsunade was shouting to Shizune, clearly exasperated: “—and he just upped and left! I’m his Hokage, and he upped and left!”

“Maah…” Kakashi began unsurely.

Tsunade’s gaze cut to him. “Hatake, there you are,” she huffed. “I’m too fucking hungover for this. We’re one man down, I need someone to look over these reports.”

Kakashi frowned, finally noticing how empty her office looked. “Where’s Shikamaru…?”

“The idiot left,” Tsunade growled, raising goosebumps on his arms. “I told him I spent all night healing her, what did he think, that I’d leave her to die? Fucking hell.”

“Leave who to die?” Kakashi said, confused. “What happened?”

“Sakura happened,” Tsunade ranted tiredly. “They brought her back almost half dead, I’ve been patching her up for the better part of eight hours and this is how I’m rewarded.”

But Kakashi had stopped listening after ‘half dead’. Half dead? “Half … dead?” he echoed, his mouth dry.

No. This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

“Yes,” Tsunade sighed. “But I operated on her and she’s going to be fine.”

Kakashi barely heard the words. His brain was a string of very adamant denial. No, no, no, no.

He didn’t want it to be true—all those years he had been certain, was so sure that it was him, that he was the reason the people he loved always died. That he was a curse to those he cared about.

Every person he loved came back in a body bag.

Fuck.

Kakashi turned tail, a sudden manic urge to see her rising unbearably in his chest. What if Tsunade was lying, what if Sakura wasn’t fine? What if she was fine, but she died anyway?

Fear pumped through his veins, rendering him dizzy. This was his worst nightmare come to life—how could he have forgotten that people, even those that could mend bones and heal what was broken, were so damn breakable?

His legs couldn’t carry him quickly enough.

He didn’t waste time interrogating the nurses for her whereabouts, he knew her scent like she was a part of him. It led him to her now, her unique sweetness tainted with blood and antiseptic.

Gods, he was going to be sick.

He nearly ripped the door off its hinges in his haste to get to her.

Shikamaru was already there, looking wrecked, looking worse than Kakashi had ever seen him. “Is she—”

He couldn’t even say it.

“They … they said they don’t know when she’ll wake up,” Shikamaru whispered hollowly.

Kakashi felt the ground crumbling beneath his feet. “No,” he whispered, leaning back against the wall when he teetered off balance.

His hip jarred against the doorknob but Kakashi barely registered the sting. Barely anything registered beyond the fear-terror-fear coursing through his veins like poison. “Please, no,” he said.

This couldn’t be happening again.

His father and Obito and Rin and Minato-sensei—hadn’t they been enough? Was Sakura going to be another name on the too long list of losses that haunted him?

He really was going to be sick. He clenched his jaw against the reflex, forcing his brain out of the dizzying tornado of anxieties. His gaze focused on Shikamaru, the only other person that mattered as much.

He didn’t look good at all, pale and shaking and appearing ready to fall apart.

The sight of him was strangely grounding.

Kakashi found his elusive strength, located his knees under him and was at his side in the next second.

“Shikamaru,” he rasped, clutching the other man’s arm.

“She looks dead,” Shikamaru whispered. “I … I …”

Words eluded him.

Kakashi tugged at his arm, drawing Shikamaru against him. He went without a fight, slumping against Kakashi’s chest like a puppet whose strings were cut.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kakashi lied, surprised by how much conviction he could bleed into it when it was for someone else’s benefit. “She’s going to be fine.”

Shikamaru shook in his hold, his shoulders minutely trembling. But just as suddenly, his body calmed down and he gripped tightly onto Kakashi’s middle. “What if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” Kakashi stressed because … anything else was not an option. “It’s Sakura. She punched a goddess in the face.”

Shikamaru let out a short, pained laugh against him. “Gods, don’t remind me; what a reckless idiot.”

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Kakashi confessed in a soft murmur against Shikamaru’s hair. He tightened his hold on him, drawing strength from the warmth of his body. “As beautiful as the two of you together.”

Lean fingers dug in his back. “I’m glad you’re here,” Shikamaru said sincerely. “I’m glad you came. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cry.”

“You can cry,” Kakashi soothed, sinking his fingers in lush, dark hair. “Hell, I might cry.”

Shikamaru let out a wet chuckle. “Yeah.”

Kakashi’s face bowed, nuzzling the side of his head as he took a shuddering breath. He clutched Shikamaru closely, his breath shallow and his heart a warbling mess in his chest.

He couldn’t think about if she died. He would die, then, if not from sorrow then from a broken psyche. It was easier to focus on the beeping machines and Shikamaru’s sure, thudding heart. Kakashi tuned in on every shuddering breath, his palm mapping his expanding ribs.

His focus narrowed down to his senses, to Shikamaru, to Sakura’s fighting, beating heart and prayed like he never had before.

She was going to be alright.

She had to be.

[aikrus]

What It Means To Be Dead (Tokoyami x Reader)

Fandom: Bnha Warnings: Mentions of Dying, depression, bullying, abuse, and strong language Words: 2k259 Requested By: Anon <3 Request:  Hi I love your writing! Can I request one where Tokoyami )or anyone you'd like really,) finds a collection of old-ish diaries and letters while cleaning? The person's handwriting is very distinct and pretty (Think 1700's love letter find) but they never mention their name. As they read more of it they find newer entries where Aizawa is mentioned so they ask him about it only to find out the person who wrote them died almost 100 years ago and 'haunts' the school. (Sorry for long request) A/N: I deviated a little from the request, but I hope you like it!

            The night had already came and claimed the land of UA for itself. Shadows overtook the courtyards, and darkness fell across the classrooms, but not everyone had retreated to the safety of their comforters which shielded them from the secrets which the black abyss held so dear. 

After a draining day of learning and training, Tokoyami wanted nothing more than to go to sleep- sadly, it was his turn to clean the classroom. It was annoying and boring and he’d give anything to be able to go to sleep, but fair is fair and he wasn’t the tyrannical type.

And so, he washed the windows and wiped down the desks. He swept the floors and organized the textbooks, and he turned to put the broom back into the small closet in the corner of the classroom. With a heavy sigh, Fumikage realized he should probably tidy up the dirty, dust-filled, death trap that was called a broom closet. 

Narrowing his eyes at the cobwebs, he started to knock them down with the end of the broomstick (Seriously praying to whatever god there is that no spider fell onto his feathers). The room was in worse condition on closer inspection, it looked like not a soul had thought to clean it since the school was built. 

After taking the time to sweep the floors, wipe down the door and the counters, and organize the books, Tokoyami was beyond tired and ready to fall asleep in the still-somehow-dirty closet. No matter how many times he swung at the cobwebs, how many times he picked up the coats and books and papers on the floor, despite the effort he put into tidying up the smallish space, it still seemed to have a weird layer of age coating itself entirely.

The closet felt preserved in time, like the oldness it felt was not just in the items littered about, but in the very walls itself. The things it’s seen, the memories it held, something about the space simply felt... wrong. 

He turned to a corner he hadn’t worked on, inwardly groaning at the amount of work he still had to do despite the time of night. With a huff, he began to organize the textbooks and pages of work sprawled around the space. 

His hands fell upon and old leather book- very different in both appearance and age when compared to the marble notebooks that surrounded it. Leaning over, he saw ten to fifteen more of there journal like collections shoved deep into the corner of the room. 

Tentatively, he peeled open the first book. Looking at the pages, it looked to be the diary of a girl- the beautiful handwriting looked like it belonged to someone who saw the beauty that exists within the written language, someone who stops to smell the flowers, a person who looks at sunsets and bakes goods to say they love you. 

The ink that bled onto the early pages spoke of a student, a girl who wanted to be so much more, someone who wanted to save the world. He became enthralled by the speech patterns, the phrases and swirls of the letters drew him closer, enchanting his eyes to never leave the pages.

------ 

Soon the pages became all he could think about, even after he had to abandon the closet to race to bed. During class all he could think of was the feeling of the crisp paper under his touch. The voices of his friends seemed ugly, seemed to be missing the douse of honesty and beauty he had been exposed to, even when he was practicing all he could focus on was the experiences of the girl who wrote down all her inner thoughts. 

It was like she haunted him, appearing everywhere he went. Like she poisoned him, infecting his thoughts and feelings. She became everything to him so soon, every word had him on edge, every sentence a beautiful stream of imagery that he would give nothing but to experiencing along side her, what he wouldn’t give to see the world through her eyes of love.

As the day ended, he had quiet easily convinced Sero that he should take over his night of cleaning. Sure the actual work was quiet annoying, but he would be rewarded with her sweet words, he had left the book in the corner in his rush to get back to his dorm; he regretted his oversight the moment he laid down.

“Tokoyami, wasn’t your cleaning duty last night?” Aizawa asked, his eyes lazy looking up from the papers he was grading to make contact with Fumikage’s red ones. 

“Yes sir, it was. I volunteered to take over tonight as well,” 

“Mhm, and is there a reason for this?” He raised his eyebrow, dragging his briefcase off the table with him. 

“Cleaning helps me think,” this wasn’t a total lie, reading the journal will calm his raging thoughts of the mystery girl. 

“Just don’t make a habit of it,” his teacher echoed, not having enough energy to further investigate a seemingly innocent interaction.

Tokoyami was much faster with cleaning that day, and he was even faster to sprint inside the broom closet. He grabbed the leather books and raced back to his room, already feeling the warmth her voice provided. 

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

The passages started off innocent enough, complaints about school, fantasizing about a better life, just a teen writing down their emotions. It then morphed into the beauty in everything, words that didn’t release Fumikage’s eyes until they were tearing up from dryness. 

Then, things took a darker turn. Dark thoughts disguised in poems, things others have said to her, representation of her pain in drawings scattered throughout the book. The beautiful world- though still majestic in its own way- turned dark and twisted.

It was painful to read, and yet he couldn’t look away. It was like the book became a part of him- no. It was like he became a part of the book, nothing more than the cracked parchment and spilled ink. It was dehumanizing, but he wouldn’t change his position for anything in the world.

His bed was taken over by the old pages, dating back over two hundred years ago. The writer was in the post-quirk awakening. The world had just discovered the glowing child right before she was born. She was one of the first quirk holders in the world- one of the first one hundred Japanese citizens to have a quirk.

The journals started when she was ten- though that book was the fifth one he read. After that discovery, he categorized them in chronological order to read along with the flow of time. She wrote of the manifestation of her quirk- her parents had been struck with terror when their daughter walked through the wall of their living room to get into her bedroom. 

That was the first moment she realized how different she is. Her life never seemed to go back to the way it was before, not even after the initial shock of what she could do faded from her parents; because, there would always be a new shock, a new ability, and no one was prepared to help her.

He realized, reading more about how the quirkless treated her, that her life would have been much different is she had lived in his time. Hearing the slurs and bullying they  put her through, he wishes she could see how much the world has changed- would she be happy or sad that her bully's became the minority and were mocked in their normal-ness or if she would be ashamed of the people like her.

He was very satisfied that the people who made her life so awful were getting a taste of their own medicine, but he did wonder if that made him a bad person. Tokoyami figures that it really didn’t matter, she was gone so her opinion would never be known. 

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

“Death didn’t feel like I thought it would. Surprisingly, it was reminiscent of when I use my quirk to posses things or people. My body was there, on the floor, but I was floating above it. Much like I am when I leave my body before finding my target. The cold was instantly recognizable- like an abyss with no end.

The only difference I’ve noticed so far is the lack of body to return to, though I can enter it, it acts as an object. While I cannot move it, I can see out of it. It’s therapeutic in a way. Really, this must have been the best case scenario- I could see how everyone reacts, see who really cares about me.

It was hard at first, seeing all theses people, who I believed were simply pretending to care, braking down behind closed doors. It was only my sister- whom held no quirk- that cared. She did everything she could to make my funeral how I wanted it, and she preserved my bedroom the way I liked it. That was a nice gesture, it truly was. 

Now my life has come to an end- my body buried under ground, never to be seen again- I can’t help but wonder what comes next. How long will I be held in this mortal world? Will others be like me, or will I be forced to live alone in the agonizing realization that comes with immortality? I guess I’ll simply have to wait and see,”

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

He had fallen asleep after reading the last passage in the ninth book- where she described how she stayed a student at UA even after death. The names she referenced had been lost in time- Pro-heroes that have long been dead and are now another name on the Hero Memorial wall. 

She had possessed her home room teacher and walked to the headmaster- there she said what had happened. Her headmaster agreed to keep her on as a student, but only under the condition that she wouldn’t unnecessarily possess an unknowing student. It was fair- annoying but fair. They gave her her old desk and she worked along side everyone. When he woke up, the book had moved on its own. 

There was a page opened- an elegant scipt sprawllled at the top but had been smuged since it was written- the only elligable part following what could be assumed to be a name: Phatom-- The Ghost Hero. The script was familiar, but it wasn’t the handwriting the rest of the journal was written in. Beneath it was a drawing of a girl- a girl more beautiful than anyone Fumikage had ever seen. It was a realistic depiction and it looked modern- it was only with that realization which led Tokoyomi to realize this journal wasn’t one he had seen before. Flipping through it, he hadn’t even noticed its sudden appearance. It was the newest one of them all- spanning for the last decade.  He leaned back in his bed and began,

So I guess it’s been a while huh? Here are some general updates: Shouta from class 2-A is an idiot but I guess he’s kinda cute. We picked out hero names today, I wanted to just keep my name but he dubbed me Phantom.. I called him Eraserhead in return. I hope it sticks. 

I’ve graduated from UA more than six times now- but I kinda like it. I do some professional hero work- especially info recall- but I’m worried about how the public will react to a ghost. It would definitely fuck with some peoples religious views. 

It’s better this way. I’ve also decided to distance myself from Shinso- she and I got along great, but her twin brother has been acting weirdly around me for a while. His quirk is amazing, but I’ve seen plenty of unstable students pass through these halls and I know enough to keep my distance. Shouta doesn’t seem to agree- neither does Hizashi. I guess only time will tell.

As for manifesting my physical form- it’s a lot harder than I had hoped. I can become visual for three active minutes or ten minutes with no moving. I’m still not touchable, but I hope that will change with time. That’s all for now- I’ll try to check in soon.

He shook his head- surely those names must be common, but she was in UA and only so many coincidences can happen at one time. He wonders how she was now. Mostly, he wonders if she’s still at UA. They hadn’t announced her as a student, so was she a pro hero now? 

Was it weird to still be in the body of a sixteen year old? There were so many issues with immortality- he wondered how she coped with it. These questions abused him throughout the morning. He thought of how lonely she must be, how it must be so awful to be all by herself.

He wondered why he cared so much- why had he developed such a strong scene of attachement to this girl? The fuzzy feeling in his chest when he saw the drawing of the girl had taken up his entire mind- he needed to know more.

As soon as he entered his familiar class room he marched straight up to his teachers desk with passion in his eyes- “Professor, can we talk after class? I have some questions I’d like to ask you,”

Aizawa glarred at the corner of the room, an annoyed frown tugging at his lips. This was gonna be a long day.

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

A/N 

Sorry for dropping off the planet everyone! This has been in the drafts for a  long time and finally gets to see the light of day. I’ve had some mental health issues (not related to this story don’t worry) and am working on myself. I fully intend to finish the Christmas countdown I committed to and this account is still active, but this will remain on the back burner until I am well on my way to recovery. Requests will remain open for the time being and I will continue to make progress. Thank you for the lovely anon’s in my inbox with constant support and requests, I appreciate all of you. Thank you all and I hope you enjoyed this work <3

[chaoticevilbean]

Voltron Humans are Weird 3/?

Lance tugged at the suit he wore, hating it with every fiber of his being. Ever since the Alteans found out humans are mostly water, they insisted that the Paladins wear special suits that covered from their necks to their ankles to avoid a catastrophe. Allura and Shiro were to explain the situation, and arrangements would be made to let the Paladins wear normal clothes if possible. They'd been lucky so far that no one had died from something like a handshake. But the suits were skintight to avoid any water escaping too early, and Lance hated it.

It was sunny as well, so Lance desperately wanted to be free from the fabric that regulated his temperature. It made him feel constantly at a neutral point, and he just wanted to feel the blaze of heat from sunlight and bask in the warm glow. It took nearly half an hour to even get past the pleasantries and another two hours to get the arrangements set up. The humans were escorted to an open pavilion, like a gazebo, where there were several pitchers of water for the Terrans to drink, and every diplomat that came with had full-covering clothing to protect their skin. The Paladins were given a place to change, and Allura made the mistake of saying that they could wear whatever they wanted seeing as they worked so hard protecting the universe that the diplomats did all the safety work.

It wasn't a mistake to Lance, but it was to the aliens.

Lance forwent the shirt and jacket, instead putting them with his suit. He was glad he had managed to find some old Altean clothing and make shorts out of a pair of blue pants. He slipped the shorts on and sprinted back to the gazebo to find his fellow Paladins in much different attire. That is to say that they were wearing their normal clothing and Hunk was the only one to not wear the full outfit. All he'd done was take off the vest.

"Lance, what are you wearing?" Allura seemed perturbed by his lack of covering, but the Cuban ignored her, instead finally leaving the shade and flopping down on the purple space grass. It was softer than regular grass, like silk or one of those really soft blankets.  The teen hummed at the feeling of sun warming his body, soaking up every ray like a lizard.

His peace was interrupted by the screams of the diplomats and Allura. He wondered why until a guard ran forward with some sort of umbrella that held a shield all the way around the being's body. None of the aliens had been in the sun. Coran had mentioned in the briefing that the sun was out for only about a quarter of their year, meaning they had no natural adaption for the heat and radiation. The guard had almost reached Lance when the Paladin launched to his feet and took off running away from the shade. He was a Cuban boy, and he loved the sun. Humans were already terrifying, what was one more thing like this. It wasn't even that weird considering the solar cycles of Earth.

As Lance was being chased down by now several severely concerned and mildly fearful guards with umbrella shields, Pidge managed to get the diplomats to calm down by saying she was a scientist and could explain it all. Although some looked stunned that she said she was a scientist. Maybe they had social castes or something? They wouldn't understand being both a warrior and a scholar. Research for another time.

"How is the Blue Paladin handling the heat? Not even the adaptive nature of the Alteans can adjust from the shade to the scorching temperature."

"Earth has several climates. Lance is from one that is more hot and that's why his skin is darker as well. He can handle the heat just fine because he grew up with a similar temperature. Next question."

"How can he also handle the cold of the shade then? Even if he could withstand it temporarily, he should be stiff from the lower temperature, and he spent over two vargas in it."

"Humans can handle temperatures ranging from -40 to 50 degrees Celsius, which Allura can calculate better for you. We prefer the 0 to 30 degree range, and many humans can live in most climates on Earth. There aren't many places that aren't inhabited at this point, and part of that is due to our ability to adapt to new environments with relative ease. Next."

"How many climates?"

"Hundreds, next."

"What are the worst? To give us a better view of your extremes."

"Some places have active volcanos, so we have to be careful of the molten rock they spew. We have tectonic plates, which cause earthquakes and can bring down entire cities. Our Poles are extremely cold, under -60 degrees at least. Next."

"Some of you live near active volcanoes?"

"Yeah, and we swim in the nearby groundwater because it has good minerals for us. Next."

"Your planet has earthquakes? And they can level entire cities?"

"Yeah, but that's our fault. We built them on fault lines. Next."

"Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yeah, when the buildings fell down, we built them back up better than ever. Next."

"You rebuilt the cities in the same spots?"

"Yes, next."

"How did you find out your Poles were so cold? From what our scientists know of Terra, it's rather undeveloped comparatively."

"We sent people. Before you ask, yes, the first few groups died, and yes, we sent more with only slightly better equipment. Humans are curious about our world, and we'll do a lot to discover more. Next."

"Why is the Blue Paladin refusing the shade if he can handle the cold?"

"We live on the Castle, and only get a simulated version of sunlight. It's not often that we get to relax a bit and enjoy our surroundings. Lance misses the sun and its heat, so he doesn't want the shade. He wants to sunbathe, like a snake or a cat or something. Call the guards off and you'll see." The diplomats, somehow managing their fear of and for the humans and their planet, did just that.

"Lance, you're free to tan!" Hunk shouted over. Lance, trusting his bro, skidded to a halt, then let himself fall backwards. He wasn't too far from the group in the gazebo, having had to run circles around the guards. Hopefully Allura didn't notice that the guards were rather undertrained. They could barely maintain the chase! And they couldn't turn very well.

The diplomats and Allura watched with fascination as the Terran boy simply laid on the grass, eyes closed and letting the sun shine directly on him.

"Feeling better, buddy?"

"Mi hermano, we better get these allies! I'm not giving up this chance!" Hunk laughed, especially when Shiro received questions as to what Lance meant.

"He's saying he's glad you have sunlight and it's another reason that we should be allies. Mostly a joke."

"But why?"

Lance paid the conversations no mind. He only moved when Hunk yelled, "Turn!" at him. It was something they came up with so Lance never got close to burning. He would flip over whenever the call went out. The Cuban laid through the entire peace talk and treaty signing and whatnot, and groaned in displeasure when he was told it was time to go.

He was up on his feet in a second once Pidge said she'd taken some time while waiting for Allura and Shiro to finish up calculating how to fix the fake sunlight that gave them Vitamin D on the Castle. More sun, whenever he wanted, and it wasn't the weak sauce of the giant Altean ship? Yes please!

Feeling much better than before, Lance ran over to the group, refusing the shirt Hunk tried to give him. It was a halfhearted attempt, given that the Samoan knew his bro wouldn't want it in the first place. The team of Terrans headed back to the Castle, this time taking the sunny route. The diplomats and Allura remained in the shade, discussing some less political topics. One in particular came up.

"Is there any way to obtain more information about Terrans? We would never have known that the Paladins were so adaptable and biologically dangerous if you and the Green Paladin had not told us."

"Actually," Allura smiled warmly, "my advisor and I are compiling a log. 'A Guide to Humans', we titled it. I can give you viewing access, although, I must warn you. Almost all of our information is in the preliminary stage. We know next to nothing about humans and their planet, and we may find that some of the data is false. An example that recently happened was that we found Terrans have strong tolerances to quite a few poisons. But we had to update the log a second time after investigating further and discovering that only some of them have strong tolerances. Most have mild tolerances, but only a few can handle some toxins in larger amounts."

"Which poisons?"

"I believe it would be better if I simply sent you the log."

A varga later, Allura and Coran were adding a few new sections to their guide.

Due to the many different climates that somehow coexist on Earth, humans have a large range of temperatures they can tolerate, along with having the ability to adapt to a new temperature very quickly. On the Terran scale labeled 'Celsius', humans can handle temperatures from -40 to 50 degrees, with their comfortable range being about 0 to 30 degrees. Some humans prefer warmer temperatures and some prefer colder, depending on where they were raised.

To elaborate on the different climates Earth sustains, there are a few extremes that should be made known. Some populaces live near active volcanos, occasionally submerging themselves in the dihydrogen monoxide found nearby the deadly formations. They claim to do it for the beneficial properties found in the substance. Another climate is the freezing cold of Earth's poles. They are, at their warmest temperatures, 0 degrees or less. Humans, with their still young technological advancements, deemed their curiosity of the poles a worthy cause to send groups of their own people to the frozen locations. After the deaths of their initial teams, they sent more.

Earth also has tectonic plates, and earthquakes are common enough that Terrans often pass off the tremors as normal. Some cities are built on fault lines, and are damaged by larger quakes. Humans, instead of doing what most races would and relocating, rebuild their cities in the same places with better foundations.

Be receptive to suggestions a human may give about how to handle a new climate. They likely have a good knowledge of how to withstand different temperatures and how to handle the unfamiliar conditions. If a human requests specific equipment for the trip, it would be best to supply. Most Terrans will never risk the safety of themselves and others to extort the goodwill of another being. The younger a Terran is, the less likely they are to be greedy in those situations, unless the Terran is not fully matured, in which case they will not understand the circumstances well.

[jessie-writes-things]

From the Darkness | Part 1

This is a commission from the lovely @grogusmum! I'm so so so sorry for how late this is love! Life got in the way a bit. Originally I was gonna do this as one giant piece, but you've been waiting too long and so I just needed to get something out. This ended up being a bit more soft-angst rather than fluff but I tried my best to balance it out. The next part will be full-on found family fluff though! 🥰

This whole thing stemmed from that throwaway line 'I've spent much time on Tatooine' from The Marshall. Basically, I just liked the idea of Din having a somewhat secret life hidden away there. It gets explained a bit more in the second part, but that's really all the context you need right now. 😅🥰

Pairing: Din Djarin x Neutral Reader

Words: 2.5k

Genre: Found family, fluff, soft angst

Warnings: Star Wars level violence, vague mentions of PTSD/Trauma, nightmares

Summary: Din comes home to Tattooine and you spend the night on the Razor Crest.

You always heard the Razor Crest before you saw it. The loud hum of the clunky engine made you jump every single time and you had always wondered how long it would be until the ship just dropped out the sky.

Your answer came quicker than you thought. It was around midnight when the first signs came, snippets of voices fluttered by like quiet, sleep-laced whispers on the wind.

See you we do! Coming home we are!

Then came the ship barrelling onto the landing pad, and you weren’t dramatic in saying you thought the planet was about to explode; walls rumbling, ground vibrating. Peli had been prompted to spew out a few choice words, stepping outside just as you did to watch the slivers of silver moonlight spring off the ship as it finally settled down.

The landing had been…less than graceful to say the least. The engine sounded worse than you’ve ever heard. One of her feet had been ripped clear off, making her tilt to the side at an unnerving angle and you didn’t even want to think about the number of outer plates there were to replace.

What worried you more was the look of annoyance on your boss’s face, pinched and red, and you just had enough time to convince her to head back to bed, promising to deal with The Mandalorian until morning. And thank every planet in the galaxy she listened because if the Crest hadn’t woken up the neighbourhood, you knew she sure as hell would of.

There was an etiquette, you learned through years of working on the hanger; you should never enter a person’s ship first. To regulars, it was like walking into someone’s home without being invited. But so early in the morning you weren’t for niceties.

You walked up that ramp like pray on a hunt, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and you may have stumbled a bit, but it was a hunt.

The Mandalorian was clearly waiting for you, sitting in the cockpit, the baby asleep in his pod although you had no doubt he was listening to every word.

Very out of character, he was the first to speak, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘It’s okay.’ It wasn’t…well, it was. You were just grumpy and tired and wanted to go back to bed, ‘She looks a mess.’

‘Can you fix her?’

You had assumed her mess from the work of another bounty gone wrong, maybe Mar again but you weren’t in the right mind to ask. ‘Depends.’

‘On?’

‘What you’re about to ask me to do next.’

There was a silence, a comfortable one but silence, nevertheless. Eyes heavy, you were fading fast, head resting against the passenger seat you had claimed as your own. You weren’t too sure if you had fallen asleep or not. You closed your eyes for what felt like a moment too long and when they opened again, Din had shifted his seat to look at you.

‘We need to stay for a few days.’ His head tilted like a little puppy dog. Helmet still on, you were left trying to imagine how he looked in that moment; eyes squinted, crinkled around the sides in admiration.

Not the exact words you wanted to hear, but not surprising in the slightest.

You decided to push again, ‘Anything else?’

He was smiling, at least you were sure he was, his voice sounding a little lighter despite the artificial muffle of the modulator, ‘Come to bed?’

---

I caught a frog today. Very big frog. I wanted to show you. But ManDad was not very happy with the frog in the big ship. So I ate it, I did. Miss you lots, I did. And so did ManDad. Smiles when he thinks about you, he does. I feel the happiness. Thank you for making him happy.

---

Turns out it hadn’t been Mar that took a hit at his ship.

There had been an incident, Din told you in the quiet of darkness, arms wrapped around you, his head buried safely. Long tufts of hair tickled your jaw and chin whenever he moved or talked, about due for a haircut but that was a battle for another day.

‘Moff Gideon is dead.’ But so was Kuill, the kind Ugnaught who had helped at the start of all this mess. Whatever was left of the Empire was still after the kid and Din still needed to find the Jedi. ‘Karga’s still alive.’

‘I thought he double-crossed you?’ At some point his head had moved onto your chest, letting your fingers card through his hair. You could just about see his face in the small cracks of light, not that he needed to hide anymore, sometimes you think the dark was comforting for him.

The smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips and you really hoped it was because of your touch and not the thought of the Guild agent. Small wins and all that, you guessed. Better to have Greef around than no one at all.

‘I can’t stay long.’ His voice wavered, ever so slightly. You had become accustomed to the bittersweetness of it all, stroking the back of his neck as your heavy eyes began to droop again.

‘That’s okay.’ While it felt like a brick being thrown at your chest, you understood. Truly. The entire Empire was after the kid and, subsequently, him. Not to mention the constant battle against other hunters who had it out for his head.

Because while you knew time was finite with him, at least you had something.

---

Happy to be home we are. ManDad gets lonely sometimes. Feel it I do. I try my best to make him smile but sometimes it does not work. Make him happy, you do. A man should not be lonely for too long, he must not, for loneliness can be deadly. When I am gone, look after him you must. Promise?

---

Quiet moments in the dark were always the loudest for Grogu. Like father like son, you guessed. Neither of them liked the stillness much, both of their minds racing faster than the speed of light. It was always easier to read them in these moments. Flashes of images blended into a mosaic behind your eyes as you tried to hold down a specific part of a memory or a dream.

Some nights it was easier than others. There were times Grogu would sense you in his mind and would purposefully push an image forward, always something he thought was silly like a particularly funny looking frog or a memory of Din singing to some cheesy eighties song you had left behind on a CD during their last visit.

The colourful rhythm and syncopated beats making the walls of the Razor Crest dance along with them and you did everything not to burst out laughing in the still night, biting your lip only for a small snort to escape. Din caught on, barely opening his eyes a crack to mumble out some half-arsed are you okay before rolling over and heading back to sleep again.

It was easier to read Din when he was asleep. Not that you did it much or even intended to in the first place. But sleep tore down the walls he had spent years building up, subconsciously pushing the dreams into your mind. If Grogu’s thoughts were a lulled whisper, Din’s were white noise. Fuzzy static took up most of the space, at times slipping to let through blips of voices or a grainy picture of long past memories. They were too quick to get a full idea of what he was dreaming about.

A boy.

The pop of blasters.

A woman screaming.

One deep breath and the image faded. Din would wake for a moment, eyes closed and he’d turn back to face you. His chest shook, barely and nothing noticeable normally, but you caught it, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, and mumbling a soft it’s okay as he settled back into you.

---

Today was not so bad, it was not. But sometimes I still think about the dark place. Scary and lonely was I. For a long, long time. Then there’s light and I see ManDad for the first time. And then everything is better, it is! No longer do I need to fear the dark.

---

Like always, Grogu climbed out of his pod early morning and forced the doors of the sleeping pad open, giving him room to wiggle his way between Din and you. These were the times you’d feel the tug of his mind at the doors of yours, asking permission to be allowed in.

If your consciousness was awake enough, you’d let him, letting the Green Bean explore the distorted images of Earth and your past life. You would find him standing next to you, present you, in the middle of the dirtied street, dark and damp as rain pounded on the concrete around you, drowning out the screams of the people as they rushed by.

He’d hold his arms up, a quiet hold me please passing by and you’d take him in your arms, holding him close. Sparks of fear rolled through you, weighed down by dread and it was hard to tell if it was coming from Grogu or your past self.

Clouds filled the sky like grey shadows. It had taken you a long time to realise they weren’t normal, that the clouds were too big, were floating by too quick to be anything natural.

That had been the first time you saw them. Aliens. Or what people on Earth would think of as aliens. Tall, grey, slimy, the stuff you had only ever seen on TV and they were now shooting from the skies in streaks of red light. Streets pathed in dust that smelt like ash and day-old water.

The two of you walked through the mess like ghosts, people running left and right and through you, some in slow motion while some were ungodly in their speed. They all died in the end. Zapped out of existence by a singular lazar.

Someone yelled about children. Save the children. Spare the children. Collect the children. Round them up near the hanger, discard the ones we don’t need, you know the ones I mean, don’t talk back to me. Their voice washed over you in cold chills, sounding so far underwater that they might as well not be there at all.

A man stopped in front of you. Tall dressed in all black. A human man staring right at you. He didn’t look panicked like the rest, was calm and collected as he pulled out his gun and aimed so perfectly right at your head. You didn’t move, didn’t duck for cover as he pulled the trigger.

You should know better than to look.

There’s a woman behind you. Was a woman behind you. She’s dead when you turn around, a pile of smoking ash on the cobbled path, already being washed away by the rain.

Then there was the child, arms still stretched out to hold their mother’s hand, eyes wide in fear but they don’t cry. No matter how much their heart is racing. No matter how much they want to scream as the man grabs their arm and drags them away, throwing them in line with the rest of them, waiting for their turn to be scanned and thrown in the hanger.

They don’t scream, even when the doors slam shut and darkness is all that’s left.

---

Awake, are you? Sleep I cannot. Wonder if ManDad knows how much I love him, I do. ManDad is amazing he is. He saved me from the dark and keeps me safe, he does. Let’s me eat cookies, he does. Such lovely cookies. Try some, you must. But ManDad hurts, I feel. Feel his heavy heart, I do. So much pain and loss cause a man to be sad. Want him to be sad I do not. When I am gone, please tell him all the time that he is special, he is. Always be my buir, he will.

---

‘Buir.’ Grogu sat on your stomach, watching with wide, curious eyes as he followed your finger to where Din moved back and forth getting ready to head out. It was just some low-level bounty, armature work really, but that didn’t stop the anxiety from budding in the pit of your stomach. Distractions curved the nausea, curled up with the pod door open, blanket tucked under your chin with the residual warmth of his body still hugging you, ‘He’s your buir.’

Din hadn’t put his helmet back on yet, the roll of his eyes contrasted with the small half-smile on his lips. In the light, it was easier to see the damage he had taken during his last fight. There was only so much an ex-bounty-turned-nursing droid and some bacta spray could do. The large gash across his forehead looked painful and you made a mental note to check it over when he returned.

‘Don’t teach him that.’

‘Why not?’

There was a pause. You caught the way the small smile faltered, wavering with doubt and uncertainty and maybe a hint of sadness although that last part was hard to tell. And while the wall Din had built around himself was thick, sadness was strong enough to creep through the cracks. Even Grogu noticed, large ears pricking, head tilting in ManDad’s direction with a small coo.

‘Aliit ori'shya tal'din.’

‘You’ve been practicing.’ The words were light, a brow quirked in your direction and you knew what it meant; you’re adorable. Thank you for trying. At least he was smiling, finishing up the last buckle on his holster ‘Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.’

Maybe you should have been more surprised by the slip of his tongue. The way he carried on getting dressed, not even pausing once at his mistake.

You had heard him say those words before a hundrad times or more. But you wondered how long he had meant those words. Months? Years? Was it a new development? Was it something he had always known?

But there was no surprise. Instead, a warmth planted itself in your chest, and it grew, branches stretching to fill every ounce of your being until it was all you could feel.

‘Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.’ His eyes widened at your mimicked words. The pronunciation was still a bit off and sometimes the emphasis was stressed on the wrong bits, but it was nice to know you were close enough that he understood you, ‘I know what it means now. You can’t trick me anymore.’

Din picked up the helmet and put it on before you had the chance to see the full smile that bloomed, but you heard it, the hints of pure happiness shining through the modulated, ‘I was never trying to trick you.’

You fought back your own smile. The heat spreading across your cheeks told a different story though, serving as a reminder of years old built-up emotions neither of you had time to unpack at that moment.

So, you did what you both did best. You quickly changed the topic, shifting your attention back to the Green Bean plopped on your stomach, happily teething on the small silver ball he sneakily snatched from the controls. A few seconds later and his attention found yours, giving you a gleeful smile as he held out the ball as a peace offering.

‘Ba'buir.’ You pointed back at Din and Grogu laughed, ‘He’s your Ba'buir.’

But Din was already out of sight, halfway to the door when he called back, ‘He’s older than me!’

Older, I surely am. And wiser. Yet know, you do not. Be careful ManDad For space can be dark and dangerous.

The lock hissed as it opened, seemingly louder in the suddenly quiet Razor Crest, ‘Be careful.’

‘Always.’

---

buir = parent

Aliit ori'shya tal'din = "Family is more than blood."

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum ="I love you."; literally: "I will know you forever."

Ba'buir = grandparent

[wonniesmile]

❥ playground! (ep. 2)

⤷ ellie’s moments in playground episode 2! (ft. txt <3)

⤷ bulletpoint format!

⤷ after a long wait, episode 2 is finally out! don’t forget to leave suggestions for new fics!!!

“HOW THE HECK DID YOU BEAT ME AGAIN.”

huening and ellie were once again playing on the nintendo, waiting on the others to finish getting ready for the next shoot.

“ellie please. please let me win. just this once...for my dignity.”

the boy gets on the floor and starts bowing.

ellie starts freaking out, obvi.

“NO PLEASE DON’T BOW!”

she’s in a very frantic state at this very moment, no clue why...but, i mean it’s ellie...right?

“what’re you guys playing?”, “oh- um- mario k-”

ellie looks up from her position, DUN DUN DUN.

that was like...really cringe, i’m so sorry.

it was none other than the choi beomgyu. standing. right. in. front. of. her.

“oh- oh my god- uh- h- he- hello!” she musters up a greeting and quickly bows.

“you don’t need to bow ellie! we’re friends!”

oh no, this poor girl’s heart.

if she dies from an early heart attack, it was bcs of choi beomgyu, just giving everyone a heads up! /j

anyways, her face was like BEET red.

from across the room, her members were watching her every move.

sunoo was laughing at how serious the rest of them were.

“can you guys like...idk...calm down? she’s literally fine.”

“i know, but...” (jake)

“but what?” (sunoo)

“oh you know...” (jungwon)

“can ya’ll finish the damn sentence?” (sunoo and jay)

“it’s nothing...” (sunghoon)

“jesus christ, you guys are insane.” (sunoo)

“five minutes!”

ellie’s head shoots up.

“darn it, i almost beat you.”

“not even close huening, ellie is the master.”

her cheeks, once again, burn up.

before she could thank beomgyu, ellie is pulled away by jungwon.

“what the heck wonie?”

“it’s time to go.”

she’s obviously very confused? what was getting into him?

choosing to ignore his attitude, ellie obliges and lets the boy drag her into the studio.

he spoke no words...very odd.

ellie started overthinking...did she do something subconsciously???

“places please!” she massages her temples and goes backstage to wait for her group’s cue.

the episode started with each group dancing on stage.

their instructions were to “have fun!”

she gave it her ALL, messing around...and even getting into a dance battle with riki.

she found it absolutely hilarious, but unfortunately, her face dropped at the sight of jungwon.

obviously, something was bothering him, but she didn’t have the courage to ask...at least not now when everyone seemed to be having fun.

jungwon was not one to show his emotions outwardly, so to a normal person, he seemed like his usual self.

but, ellie knows better, she can read jungwon like the back of her hand...something was up.

she made a mental note to herself to ask him if he was ok after the shoot.

the first game was an absolute BLAST.

they were competing to see which team they would have to play on.

since there was an odd number of people, ellie didn’t have to compete against anyone. instead, she got to choose which team she wanted to be on.

(she secretly enjoyed it)

she looked at the two teams in front of her.

her original plan was to go into the yellow team so both teams would have an equal amount of enhypen members, but she felt iffy about doing so because of jungwon...

she could possibly be overthinking things, but she didn’t want to take any risks.

making eye contact with him one last time, she looks over at the red team and points finger guns at them.

“yay ellie!” beomgyu seemed way more enthusiastic than everyone else.

of course, ellie’s heart rate quickens at the weird observation.

the team name choosing was absolutely wonderful.

beomgyu came up with ‘brave dummies’ and for some reason everyone went with it, not that ellie was complaining because it was REALLY funny.

this episode required a lot more physical activity than the last one, which she had no problem with.

she led her team to victory during the first game with the tubes and ping pong ball.

got picked up by beomgyu hai!

wait wait wait...let me set the scene for you guys because...it was something else.

after winning the race, the 7 teammates all did a group hug, ellie being shoved into the middle while the rest ferociously chanted “ellie! ellie! ellie!”

kinda scary...looked like a cult from the outside lol.

she was so confused.

all of a sudden, a figure picks her up from behind and starts cheering very loudly.

she looked absolutely terrified because she had no. clue. what. was. going. on.

and when this poor girl turns her head back to look at the person carrying her, all bodily organs in her shut down.

her eyes went blurry and suddenly she couldn’t see, her kidneys failed, her limbs detached from her body...it was insane.

jay and sunoo, being the teasers they were, laughed at the look of the flustered girl.

it was...so much.

when beomgyu put her down, she felt her life flash before her eyes.

she still couldn’t believe what just happened, placing a hand on her forehead to see if she was sick??? for some reason.

she literally could NOT think straight after that.

the rest of the episode felt like a blur.

during the flag game, she failed oh so miserably...

“you ok?” jay teasingly asks her.

“leave me alone.” *cue her side eye*

“hehe.” (jay)

she felt so bad for doing so badly during the game, she kept apologizing :’).

“ellie! its ok! none of us did good :)” thank god for yeonjun.

she had to lay her head down onto ni-ki’s shoulders because she felt so defeated.

ni-ki responded by hugging her by the waist.

“don’t worry, i did horrible too.”

she hummed and pouted.

the screaming from the others made her feel a lot better.

“there’s that smile!” sunoo squeezes her cheeks.

the other team won, obviously.

she examined jungwon, he seemed like he was doing a lot better, seeing him enjoy himself was all the reassurance ellie needed.

oh good god...the next game...hahahaha.

it was...hai!

they had a piece of paper in which they had to fit all their teammates on, it was...intense.

she tried standing in the middle of jake and ni-ki, but was pulled by kim sunoo to stand in between him and beomgyu.

she froze up, god...can’t you just act normally ellie? (this was to herself btw ;) )

she tried not to think about the close proximity between her and beomgyu, instead giving her all into the game.

“ellie, it’s alright, step on my foot.” yeonjun tells her.

“are you sure?”

“yes of course.”

she cautiously steps on his foot, making sure not to put too much weight into it.

they got past a good amount of rounds, the last one is where they REALLY struggled.

“i have an idea!”

ellie announces while clapping her hands.

“i think if we put our feet in this pattern...”

she shows what she means by using her own feet as an example.

“it would save space...we can hold onto each other for balance like all the other rounds and our other foot can come up. the foot on the ground will serve as a stabilizer.”

“that’s SUCH a smart idea!” yeonjun smiles at her.

“thanks!”

jake couldn’t resist it...it came as an automatic reflex. he moves his hand around to squeeze her cheeks.

“miss smarty pants saves us yet again!” (jake)

she glares at him and hits his arm.

(there was a slight smile on her face though)

with ellie’s strategy, their team wins yet again!!!

they huddled into a group hug while the other team groaned in defeat.

“ellie should’ve joined our team!” soobin yells.

she giggles.

the final game was a big round of yut nori, which ellie still had NO CLUE how to play.

“do you know how to play?” beomgyu asks her.

“not really?”

“no worries, leave it to us!”

ellie blushes...yk...the usual.

ellie didn’t do much through out the game, following whatever the others told her to do.

by the end of it, you’d think she’d know how to play, right? wrong!

she still, to this day, doesn’t know how to play yut nori :))).

she was sad as the shooting ended, knowing that they probably won’t be able to shoot together with txt for a LONG while.

it was so very fun getting to hang out with her seniors, though beomgyu was a bit too much.

after they said their goodbyes on camera, it was time to say goodbye off camera.

soobin suggested that they make a gc together, to which everyone happily agreed to!

beomgyu asked ellie for her number, which she shouldn’t have though much about considering he was the one making the groupchat for them, but a girl can dream right?

after hugging everyone goodbye, her group moved back into their dressing room.

“i’m exhausted.” sunghoon mentions.

ellie’s eyes did feel heavy.

the 8 of them have been shooting all day and they could all probably agree that what they needed now was a nice long nap.

she moved over to where sunghoon was laying down and tapped the boy to ask him to scoot over so she could lay down as well.

the girl cuddled into sunghoons warmth.

“sooo, you and beomgyu, huh.”

“why? are you jealous?”

“maybe...but you know who is Very jealous right now? and who you should probably talk to bcs he’s definitely upset?”

her eyes widen, finally realizing.

“oh my god, i gotta go.”

she climbs out of sunghoon’s embrace.

“i was comfortable ellie!”

“yeah yeah!”

she runs out the dressing room, frantically searching for jungwon.

she accidentally bumps into beomgyu.

“woah there, where are you going???”

“i’m so sorry! uh- i have to go talk to jungwon about something, i can’t really stay for long...”

beomgyu nods his head and motions for her to go.

she finally finds jungwon at a vending machine, grabbing two drinks.

“yang!”

she finally reaches him and drops her body down to catch her breath.

“i’m so sorry.”

“about what?”

“sunghoon said you were upset with me about something...and i wan- (deep breath) i wanted you to know that no one will ever replace you or any (deep breath) any of the other members (deep breath).”

jungwon stays silent for a bit before chuckling at the sight of the girl’s state.

“oh ellie...” he gently makes her look up by her chin, “don’t worry about it, i knew you would never do that...i just got jealous seeing you blush at beomgyu so much...”

the last part was barely audible, but ellie understood.

she giggles, “i didn’t know mr. yang was the jealous type!”

he glares at her, “whatever.”

she smiles and hugs him by the neck.

“let’s go back, we’re heading home soon.”

ellie pulls jungwon by the hands.

“wait,” he fishes for the two drinks still left in the vending machine, “this is for you.”

it was strawberry milk, her favorite.

“thank you, kind sir.”

the two walked back hand in hand.

“is wonie feeling better~” heeseung teased.

jungwon mocks his face.

“time to head back!” their manager calls out.

“god i cannot wait to sleep.” ellie groans.

“ellie~ can i sleep next to you tonight?” ni-ki pleads with his eyes.

“why not sunoo?”

“he wanted to switch it up today, apparently.” sunoo clings his arms with ellie’s.

“i mean of course you can riki, just promise me you’ll actually sleep and not watch videos all night.” ellie stares at him.

“promise.”

she smiles and hooks her free arm around his.

“now...let’s go home.”

[girlactionfigure]

“I give my child in your care, raise my child as if it were yours.”

These words were written by the mother of a six year old Jewish girl Rami, who was smuggled out of the Jewish ghetto in Nazi occupied Warsaw, Poland, during the Second World War. Little Rami was placed into foster care with her mother’s Polish friends on the Aryan side of the city and, unlike her mother, ultimately survived the war. The person who was instrumental in making Rami’s survival possible was a woman named Irena Sendler, a social worker and Polish resistance operative who helped save 2,500 Jewish children like Rami during the Holocaust.

Beginnings

Irena was born in 1910 in Warsaw into a Roman Catholic family. Her father, Stanislaw Krzyzanowski was a physician and a researcher in infectious diseases. He was a humanitarian and an idealist, who helped found the Polish Socialist Party. He believed in democracy, equal rights, universal health care, and an end to child labor, and was even expelled from university in Poland for leading strikes and protests advocating for those goals.

When Irena was two, the family moved outside of Warsaw, to the village of Otwock, where Stanislaw set up his practice for the treatment of tuberculosis. The village was fifty percent Jewish, and that percentage included the poorest of residents. Unlike other doctors in the area, Stanislaw treated everyone, the rich and poor alike, despite the poor not being able to pay. “If someone else is drowning, you have to give a hand,” he would often say.

Irena grew up in close contact with the Jewish villagers. She played with their children, and by age six even spoke fluent Yiddish. At home Irena’s family life was warm and nurturing. Stanislaw loved his little girl very much and hugged and kissed her so often that Irena’s aunts would warn him not to spoil her. “We don’t know what her life will be like,” he’d reply. “Maybe my hugs will be her best memory.”

In 1916 an epidemic of typhoid fever swept through the village and Stanislaw chose to be on the front lines. Typhoid, a bacterial disease spread through food, water, and close contact with infected persons, was especially prevalent in poor communities with bad sanitation. Unlike other well off villagers who isolated themselves to avoid contact with the sick, Stanislaw continued caring for patients and later that year succumbed to the disease himself. He died shortly after.

But Stanislaw’s spirit lived on in his daughter, and as Irena matured she resembled her father more and more in her beliefs and actions. She majored in social welfare at the University of Warsaw, and interned in charitable welfare clinics where the poor could get a free education and legal assistance. She also started becoming more politically involved, joining the Polish Socialist Party that her father helped start and beginning to engage in protests and activism herself.

In 1935 anti-Semitic sentiment was on the rise in Poland, and at Polish universities an informal rule nicknamed the “bench ghetto” was introduced. “A rule was established at the University segregating the Catholics from the Jewish students,” Irena recalled. “The Catholics were to sit on the chairs to the right and Jews on the chairs to the left. I always sat with Jews and, therefore, I was beaten by anti-Semites together with Jewish students.”

Later, like her father, Irena was suspended from university for boycotting the labeling of campus identity cards with the word “Aryan” to differentiate non-Jewish students from Jewish ones. “I was taught since my earliest years that people are either good or bad. Their race, nationality, and religion do not matter — what matters is the person.”

The War

On September 1, 1939, after the signing of a non-aggression pact between themselves, Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland. The country was split in half, with the eastern side going to Soviet Union and the western to the Nazis. Warsaw fell to the Nazis.

Overnight Jews became second class citizens in Warsaw. They couldn’t hold state or government positions, couldn’t own businesses, they had to register ownership of property, and lost access to their bank accounts.

Barred from offering social services to the Jewish population officially, Irena with a few friends began to circumvent the rules by faking paperwork in order to do so. This was the beginning of Irena’s resistance operations. Soon Irena and her resistance cell were providing money, food, and clothing to thousands of Jews in Warsaw.

A year after the invasion, moving forward with their ultimate goal of Jewish genocide, the Nazis established a ghetto for Warsaw’s Jews. 350,000 Jews, nearly 30% of the city’s entire population, were imprisoned in a 1.3 square mile ghetto. The ghetto was surrounded by a ten foot tall brick wall crowned with ribbons of barbed wire.

Irena sprang into action looking for blank documents that could give Aryan identities to Jewish friends destined for the ghetto. And once the ghettoization of Jews was complete, she continued helping in any way she could.

Life in the ghetto was miserable. The Nazis rationed roughly 200 calories of food per person per day. Death by starvation was common. Sanitation was terrible with refuse and human corpses littering the streets. There was a shortage of soap, clothing, and the means to heat living spaces. Many people froze to death. Disease was everywhere, including tuberculosis, dysentery, spotted fever, and typhoid fever, the same disease that claimed Irena’s father’s life.

But Irena was undaunted. Because of her work with Warsaw’s Department of Health and Social Services, she received a pass from the Epidemic Control Department that allowed her official passage in and out of the ghetto. She immediately began making daily visits, sometimes multiple per day, to smuggle food, money, and doses of typhus vaccine into the ghetto. She would hide items in the false bottom of her bag, or in small pockets sewn into a padded bra. Many women had their bras altered with padding and pockets. “It was a joke in wartime Warsaw that women’s breasts had grown dramatically everywhere in the city since the arrival of the Germans.”

Children

Sometimes Irena would smuggle candy or dolls for the ghetto’s children. Children were particularly vulnerable in the ghetto, succumbing faster to malnutrition, freezing, and to more varied diseases than adults. Some families facing starvation relied on their children to obtain food by smuggling it from the Aryan side of the city. Other families sent children across the wall hoping they would fare better as orphans on the Aryan side than inside the ghetto. In the beginning of 1942, about 4,000 children lived on the streets of the Aryan side. 2,000 of them were Jewish.

That year, fearing Nazi soldiers’ contamination with typhus and other diseases from children living on the street, the chief of the Nazi police ordered for Warsaw’s social services to get all homeless children on the Aryan side of the city off the streets and into orphanages and other local institutions. The roundups yielded a number of Jewish children, many of whom Irena and her network helped disappear into private homes and orphanages under false Polish identities. But there were thirty two Jewish kids that could not be placed, and so, in order to save them from execution, Irena had to smuggle them back into the ghetto. Knowing what was awaiting them there, Irena was devastated at not having an alternative solution. She vowed to never again return a single child to the ghetto, and started, along with her associates, an operation to smuggle Jewish children out of the ghetto and to provide them with false Polish identities and caring homes on the Aryan side of the city.

The price for helping a Jewish child in wartime Warsaw was execution, and Irena and her core group of twenty to twenty five mostly women operatives, risked their lives daily to save each and every child. Children were smuggled out of the ghetto in a variety of ways. There were secret routes to the Aryan side of the city via sewers and underground corridors. Children were able to get across by sneaking through an old courthouse and a Catholic church that stood on the border of the ghetto. Irena’s epidemic control pass allowed her to officially bring a child out of the ghetto for treatment if they were ill with tuberculosis. Children with or without the disease were brought out this way. Some kids were hidden in ambulances, under floorboards or dirty rags, or in coffins along with dead bodies. The Nazis were terrified of disease and performed only cursory checks before waving ambulances through. The youngest, including babies, had to be sedated with tranquilizers and hidden in trucks in toolboxes, in sacks masquerading as laundry or potatoes, or under vegetable boxes. Some were left in briefcases on early morning streetcars that ran in and out of the ghetto and later picked up by a friend.

Once out of the ghetto, children had to take on new identities in order to integrate into Polish society. Sometimes documents were faked, other times legitimate blanks could be found. If children looked too Jewish, they had makeovers to make them look more Polish. Sometimes it was as easy as dying a child’s hair, other times Jewish boys had to become girls in order to prevent the Nazi authorities from checking for circumcisions.

Escaped children went on to live in homes of friends, in convents, in group homes, orphanages, or religious institutions, and Irena kept a list of each and every child placed with the hope of reuniting them with families after the war. She encoded and recorded only the most essential information such as names, addresses, and an account of any money that parents gave to help with caretaking on cigarette paper that nightly she prepared to throw out of her kitchen window in case the Gestapo, the Nazi secret police, ever came looking for her. Eventually, when it became too dangerous to keep the list at home, she buried it in glass bottles under an apple tree in a friend’s garden.

By this time Irena was already having nightmares on a regular basis. Not only did she worry about the children who would certainly be killed if they were ever discovered, she also worried about the families that were risking their lives to hide them. On top of everything, Irena was the sole person who knew the detailed histories of all the smuggled children. If anything were to happen to her, that information would be irretrievable.

Capture

In the fall of 1943, the Gestapo found and arrested a woman who ran a laundrette that the resistance used as a drop-off point for messages and packages. Charged with conspiring with the resistance, the woman was tortured and ultimately broke, giving up names of resistance operatives. One of those names was Irena Sendler’s. Days after, the Gestapo pounded on Irena’s door in the middle of the night. She was arrested, beaten, interrogated, and sent to Pawiak, a secret prison for intelligentsia and those politically involved. Most prisoners interned at Pawiak never left alive.

The Gestapo repeatedly tortured Irena for information, breaking her legs and feet, and permanently scarring her body. Despite the agony, Irena never said a word. She knew what divulging information would mean, a death sentence for thousands of children, friends and families. As luck would have it, the Gestapo thought they had captured only a fringe resistance operative, not the head of children’s division of the resistance movement, which meant Irena received no special treatment. Certainly if they realized who they were dealing with, they would have taken extra measures.

Irena lived at the prison for four months until her execution date was set for January 20, 1944. During the days, when she was not being tortured for information, Irena worked as a washerwoman cleaning soiled Nazi underwear. One day, when the Nazis found the laundry work not to their satisfaction, they lined up all the washerwomen against a wall and shot in the head every other one. Irena was one of the ones who survived.

On the morning of January 20th, a Nazi officer came to take Irena to the courtyard where she was to be shot. She was led down a corridor, but instead of being taken into the waiting room where she was to await her execution, the officer led her out of the prison and into the street. He released her and told her to run. As Irena later found out her friends in the resistance had bribed the Nazi with what today amounts to $100,000 to secure her escape.

End of the war and legacy

Once free, Irena went into hiding, and soon resumed her operations with the resistance. She continued rising in ranks until she was running meetings and setting agendas. In the summer of 1944, with the Soviets advancing, and the Nazis retreating, the Polish resistance army attempted to liberate Warsaw. They fought for two months, but were ultimately defeated by the Nazis. In response to the uprising, Heinrich Himmler, a most high ranking SS officer and the person responsible for forming and operating Nazi death camps, gave the order to kill all Polish residents of Warsaw and to level the entire city. “The city must completely disappear from the surface of the earth…,” he ordered. “No stone can remain standing. Every building must be razed to its foundation.” Ultimately more than 400,000 people were killed and eighty percent of Warsaw was destroyed by the retreating Nazi army. Irena miraculously survived the destruction.

After the Nazis were driven out of Warsaw, Irena and a friend went to dig up the list of children they had hidden in bottles. They searched and searched for the tree under which the list was buried, but found only rubble. Irena then set out, along with her friends, to recreate the list from memory. She continued working for decades helping reunite children with their families, and even adopted two orphaned Jewish girls herself.

Irena lived until 98, and passed away in Warsaw in 2008. Until the very end of her life she felt that she did not do enough to help children during the war.

Five years before her death Irena received Poland’s highest honour, the Order of the White Eagle, but she never enjoyed being called a hero.

“Let me stress most emphatically that we who were rescuing children are not some kind of heroes… Indeed, that term irritates me greatly.” 

“Heroes do extraordinary things. What I did was not an extraordinary thing. It was normal.”

The children Irena saved during the war continued to call and visit her until the end of her life.

Historical Snapshots

[yel-halansu]

Pre-Reform Vulcan isn't what you think it is

So I've seen a lot of confusion in the fandom regarding Vulcan history, which is a shame because it's really detailed and interesting! I've compiled this summary of the main eras and events in Vulcan history which I hope you will find informative and useful (just as a note, all dates will be given in standard Earth years and centuries for clarity). Let's begin!

THE TIME OF THE BEGINNING

Life was seeded in Vulcan by a preserver race around 6 million years ago, which explains the similarities with other kinds of humanoid life in the galaxy. Evolution took its natural course, and by 600,000 BCE, a humanoid species had developed from a feline ancestor.

Proto-Vulcan humanoids were a peaceful people with an aptitude for logic. They lived mostly in the plains and kept away from mountain areas due to the danger posed by volcanic eruptions. They learnt to use fire early, and the abundance of metals made for a short Stone Age as they quickly developed rudimentary metallurgy and agricultural techniques. They soon started to domesticate animals and developed other basic technologies such as weaving. During this time period, strong solar flares and increased volcanic activity desertified the planet. The lack of resources such as water and fertile land that ensued would mark Vulcan history for thousands of years to come.

THE AGE OF ANTIQUITY

By 2,700 BCE, society was organized around tribal lines in clans that banded together for protection. Most tribes were nomadic, crossing the desert in search of water and following the migrating herds of the animals they hunted. It is theorized that groups were female-dominated, with the clan matriarchs overseeing most aspects of life.

Around that time, however, settlements had also started to develop across the territory, mostly near the shorelines of the small seas of Vulcan and by protective rock formations near oases, in order to utilise these precious resources and guard them from outsiders. These settlements eventually developed into fortified city-states. Conflicts over water and arable land became common as the cities fought to monopolise them, and technological development quickly stagnated as they fought for survival, ushering in a dark age. Political intrigue and violence were rife, with the warlords of the city-states securing alliances through arranged marriages and concocting elaborate plots of betrayal.

It is also thought that it was around this period of time that Vulcans as a species started to develop psychionic abilities, with members of the population who displayed these abilities being highly sought after and respected. As early as 2,500 BCE, some isolated Vulcans appear to have began to mentally train themselves to suppress their emotions, noticing that doing so resulted in a heightened control of their telepathic abilities.

The Age of Antiquity lasted thousands of years, but due to the uncontrolled destruction of the environment during the wars that were about to ensue, little archaeological evidence remains of it. Most accounts about this period are now shrouded in legend.

THE AGE OF EXPANSION

Eventually, an arms race began as the Vulcan city-states, locked in constant skirmishes, rushed to overpower their neighbours and defend their scarce resources. Technological advancement, which had up to that point been slow, quickly sped up and focused on weaponry, until Vulcans came to create weapons of mass destruction such as atomic and neutron bombs. The wars that ensued ravaged the surface of the planet, permanently distorting a region of its magnetic field, and leading to frequent energy discharges in the red sands.

By the 9th century BCE, Vulcans were capable of space travel, though they did not yet possess warp capability. Legend states that the first spacecraft was built by the warlord D'Vir in 855 BCE. At the time not many species were warp-capable, and so the Vulcans did not come into contact with other civilizations. They quickly landed on Vulcan's sister planet, T'Khut, and started mining it for resources.

Wars were now worsened due to the shifting balances of power caused by the destabilizing factors of the discovery of new off-world territories to colonise and the new incoming resources taken from T'Khut, the nearby asteroid belts, and other neighbouring planets. The wars in Vulcan continued for centuries.

SUDOC'S HEGEMONY

The landscape suffered greatly, and the Vulcans came close to extinction just around the 3rd century CE. It was around this time that a warlord called Sudoc took power in the city of Jaleyl by assassinating the previous ruler. His psichionic abilities were renowned and he used this power to control his followers through mind-melds and telepathic torture. He cultivated a close circle of ardent brainwashed followers. He quickly became very popular in Jaleyl by appealing to the majority of the populace with propaganda techniques, and began to expand his kingdom quickly and violently. Initially, other neighbouring city-states resisted, but Sudoc fought them mercilessly and invaded them. He is said to have slaughtered entire cities except for a single survivor, who would then be sent to the next town with the following message: “Your rulers are responsible. They would rather see you dead than out of their control.” This would cause neighbouring city-states to either surrender or be torn apart by internal conflict, as the leaders would be overthrown by their fearful citizens. For over a century, Sudoc's armies advanced across the planet.

THE TIME OF AWAKENING

Surak was born to a general in Shi'Kahr just as the city was entering in conflict with Sudoc's expanding kingdom. As a well-off youth, he was spared the horrors of the war and was not drafted into the army as most common citizens were. Instead, he spent his youth reading, studying and discussing philosophy with his friends at the sumptuous feasts of the upper class. The turning point in his life came when his entire family was assassinated by Sudoc's agents. Surak was spared as he was at a party that evening. Many other influential families were killed in this coordinated attack, including that of Surak's closest friend, Senet. Senet was consumed by rage, and immediately joined the front lines of the army, wishing to get his revenge on Sudoc. He was promptly killed.

This event changed Surak permanently, and he began to write. He theorised that all the problems of the Vulcan people stemmed from their excess of emotion. He started to develop his discipline of logic, which he believed was the only thing that could temper emotion and allow Vulcan society to develop past the horrible struggles of war. Many of his former friends deserted him during this time, but others stayed as he developed a close circle of faithful followers. Surak surrounded himself with masters of all disciplines, such as law, calligraphy and mathematics, who would in time go on to apply his principles of logic into these disciplines.

Surak faced great opposition at the beginning, as he was perceived by the population of Shi'Kahr as a spoiled kid who knew little of the horrors of the war. Sensing their apprehension, Surak and his followers started crossing the enemy lines and teaching their philosophy of peace among the armies of Sudoc. Many warriors began to desert the army, and propagated his teachings in turn as they travelled through the desert, fleeing the conflict.

From that point on, Surak's teachings gained popularity and sparked unrest in many of the territories of Sudoc's kingdom, which soon rebelled against the warlord. By this time, Sudoc had grown old, and in 331 CE, he died in a telepathic accident during melding session with his inner circle. His empire collapsed quickly after that and the war came to an abrupt end. The Vulcan people were still fractured into various groups while Surak spread his message, but in the vacuum left by Sudoc, many more Vulcans found comfort and hope in Surak's teachings.

THE SUNDERING

Even though Surak's teachings were extremely popular, not all Vulcans felt inclined to follow them. A group of Sudoc's most ardent supporters, led by a warrior named Tellus, found themselves increasingly disturbed by the new philosophy that was sweeping the planet. They would come to be called the "those who marched beneath the Raptor's wings". After attempting to start a new war against the followers of Surak, they saw themselves forced to leave the planet.

In 369 CE, hundreds of thousands of Tellus' followers took to space in the rudimentary crafts available at the time, looking for a new planet to call their homeworld. They would eventually arrive to a distant planet named Romulus and their culture would develop to become the Romulans we know today. It is a mystery how they managed to survive in space and travel that far a distance in non-warp ships, and it has been suggested that they may have accidentally entered a wormhole or been aided by some poweful interstellar entity.

With the exodus of the proto-Romulans, Vulcan was left mostly unified in thought and belief. However, Surak always considered the societal rift responsible for the Sundering to be one of his greatest failures. Surak died of radiation poisoning on Mount Seleya in 481. Selok, one of his disciples, took to the task of building a new system of government that would align with the new philosophy of pacifism and planetary unification, emotional supression and logic.

THE GOLDEN AGE

With a renewed spirit of unity and cooperation, Vulcans ushered in a new age of technological development. Within the space of a few years, Vulcans mapped the geothermic activity of their planet to contain its destructive force and harness its power, and used this new energy source to construct desalinisation plants and supply water to the cities and the cropfields. For the first time in Vulcan history, resources were plentiful and the constant threat of famine was erradicated. Science progressed quickly, with the Vulcan Science Academy being founded in 399 CE. Psichionic techniques also developped faster under the discipline of logic, and by the 6th century they had become cemented in the population as the new techiniques of meditation and self-control developed in their mainstream culture.

THE ROMULAN WAR

The Golden Age came to an abrupt end in 1270, when mysterious spacecrafts entered Vulcan aerospace and attacked their planet. These were, in fact, the Romulans, who has returned to their homeworld with the intention of conquering it. Both civilizations lacked warp drive capability at the time, and it is theorised that the Romulans were using an unstable wormhole to travel between the two worlds when permitted. Because of this, the timing of the incursions was unpredictable, and sometimes long periods of time would pass between attacks. The war lasted around 100 years in total. Romulan strategy dictated that their vessels must self-destruct rather than being captured, and because of this, the Vulcans never understood who was attacking them or why. However, they defended themselves with tenacity and avoided being conquered, until the wormhole closed permanently, putting a stop to the war.

SPACE EXPLORATION

The Romulan war drove technological advancements in many fields, including aeronautics, and after many years of avoiding space travel, the Vulcans took to the stars once again. Initially motivated by the potential discovery of their enemies in the recent war, they developed warp-drive capable starships. However, as they were still weary of other civilizations due the recent conflict, they avoided first contact with other races, preferring studying them from afar until they had gathered sufficient data to judge whether they posed a threat. First contact with Earth took place on 2063, and by that point they had already had encounters with the Tellarites and the Andorians, among others.

THE REFORMATION

Relations between Vulcan and Andoria were always tense, and by the 22nd century they had reached a boiling point when the Andorians sacked the Vulcan monastery of P'Jem, believing it to be an undercover spying operation. In the political fallout that ensued, the Vulcan High Council came under the control of Administrator V'Las, an undercover Romulan agent who was working to instigate the Vulcan invasion of Andoria.

In 2137, a Vulcan named Syrran created the Syrrannite movement, with the goal of returning Vulcan to the true path of pacifism and logic laid out by Surak. The increased militarism of the Vulcan High Council did not go unnoticed, and the Syrranites stood in stark oposition. The Council, weary of their influence, commenced a long campaign of persecution and slander against them.

In 2154, V'Las attempted to bomb the Terran Embassy in Shi'Kahr and blame the Syrranite movement, now led by T'Pau. However, his plans were foiled when T'Pau uncovered the Kir'Shara, an ancient artifact containing some writings of Surak that had been lost for centuries.

As a result of this discovery, the government of Vulcan was reformed and restored to a less militaristic democratic government in 2155. T'Pau stood for election and was elected as First Minister, and during her term she became one of the most influential Vulcan politicians of all time.

THE FEDERATION

The Federation was founded in 2161, with First Minister T'Pau as one of the signatories. Vulcan was proposed as capital, but the more conservative elements of government rejected the idea as it seemed culturally dangerous. Instead, Earth became the capital, though Vulcan remained a core member in spite of the warnings from conservative Vulcans that too much involvement in the affairs of other worlds was illogical and could be contrary to the philosophies of autonomy and peace that guide Surakian thought. In 2241, T'Pau refused a seat at the Federation Council, the only person to ever do so, and Suvok volunteered in her stead. This reticence to become overly involved in offworld affairs extended to Starfleet, as many saw the paramilitary organisation as having the potential to become violent. While enlisting in Starfleet was not forbidden, and many Vulcans did indeed choose this career path, it was mostly frowned upon in Vulcan society.

Though the majority of Vulcans support the Federation, the growing influence of Terra and other alien worlds in the affairs of Vulcan crystallised the radicalisation of more xenophobic elements of society, such as the Logic Extremists. During the 23rd century, this terrorist group bombed the Vulcan Learning Center to kill young Spock and Michael, the children of the mixed family of Ambassador Sarek. In the following years, they went on to sabotage several diplomatic missions until they were disbanded. In 2370, the Vulcan Isolationist Movement, the spiritual successor to the Logic Extremists, was discovered and also disbanded.

And these are the main periods in Vulcan history so far! In spite of their rapid advances in technology, Vulcan remains respectful of its traditions, ever logical and reserved, ever holding the violence that plagued it for centuries as a reminder of the past they wish to distance themselves from and the bright future that lays ahead.

Sources: VLI: Planet Vulcan History, The Way of Kolinahr: The Vulcans, Memory Alpha, Memory Beta.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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[somethingimworkingon]

Zanele Muholi, Tate Modern

Walking into the Zanele Muholi exhibition at Tate Modern is like discovering another country.

In 2017 Muholi’s ongoing self-portrait series, Somnyama Ngonyama/Hail the Dark Lioness, was exhibited in London’s Autograph Gallery. In press reviews and posters on the tube that autumn, the images were unmissable and unmistakeable: stark black and white photographs of an impassive face crowned with Brillo pads or clothes pegs, festooned with vacuum cleaner hoses. At the time, Autograph wrote, the artist: “uses her body as a canvas to confront the politics of race and representation… Gazing defiantly at the camera, Muholi challenges the viewer’s perceptions while firmly asserting her cultural identity on her own terms: black, female, queer, African.”

Fast forward to 2020, and Tate Modern’s major Zanele Muholi exhibition. Visiting hours at the museum flicker in and out of existence as we navigate COVID lockdowns – now you can come! No, wait, sorry, you can’t. Try rebooking for a month’s time.

When I finally squeaked in, in early December, I expected more Dark Lionesses. I had a vague idea that Zanele Muholi was a bit like a South African Cindy Sherman.

I was wrong.

This exhibition shows the breadth of Muholi’s practice, of which the self-portraits are just one strand. The range and energy of the work is astounding. Especially given that in 2012 their studio was burgled and five years of work on hard drives was stolen.

Another mental adjustment: Muholi’s pronouns are they/them/theirs.

Born in Umlazi, South Africa, in 1972, at the height of Apartheid, Zanele’s father died when they were a baby and their mother, Bester, a domestic worker, had to leave her eight children for employment in a white household. Zanele was brought up by extended family. They started working as a hairdresser, then studied photography at Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg, graduating in 2003, and going on to be awarded their MFA in Documentary Media from Ryerson University in Toronto in 2009.

On returning to South Africa they started to document the lives of the LGBTQI+ community.

Aftermath (2004)

The exhibition opens with a group of deceptively gentle images. In the first, Aftermath (2004), a torso is cropped from waist to knees, hands modestly clasped in front of Jockey shorts, a huge scar running down the person’s right leg almost like a piece of body art. In another, Ordeal (2003), hands wring out a cloth in an enamel basin of water placed on a floor. A third image shows a cropped, seated figure, again waist to thighs, hands folded in their lap, plastic hospital ties around their wrists. These pictures have a softness and beauty which completely belies the fact that their subjects are all survivors of sexual violence and “corrective rape”.

As the caption to the last picture, Hate crime survivor I, Case number (2004) explains, “Corrective rape is a term used to describe a hate crime in which a person is raped because of their perceived sexual orientation or gender identity. The intended consequence of such acts is to enforce heterosexuality and gender conformity.” This horrific practice is by no means unique to South Africa, but the term seems to have originated there – feminist activist Bernedette Muthien used it during an interview with Human Rights Watch in 2001 – and its effects on the community resonate throughout this exhibition.

Ordeal (2003)

They don’t, however, dominate. While the exhibition starts by showing the evils of intolerance of gender nonconformity, Muholi goes on to reclaim, elevate and celebrate that same nonconformity.

With Being (2006 – ongoing) we move on to photographs of naked bodies entwined – again tightly cropped, again soft black and white, but now without outside interference. They are sensual, personal, and owned. A series of portraits of two female lovers, Katlego Mashiloane and Nosipho Lavuta (2007) switches to colour and full figures. The couple sit entwined, laughing: they kiss, and bathe side by side standing in an enamel basin, in a warm, defiant echo of the scene in Ordeal (2003) across the room.

Katlego Mashiloane and Nosipho Lavuta, Ext.2, Lakeside, Johannesburg (2007)

The series Brave Beauties, started in 2014, is “a series of portraits of trans women, gender non-conforming and non-binary people. Many of them are also beauty pageant contestants.” The queer beauty pageant is many things: a celebration – and redefinition – of beauty, a declaration of independence by contestants, a challenge to “heteronormative and white supremacist cultures,” and an attempt, as Muholi puts it, “to change mind-sets in the communities [the contestants] live in, the same communities where they are most likely to be harassed or worse.”

Melissa Mbambo, Durban, South Beach (2017). Melissa Mbambo is a trans woman and beauty queen, Miss Gay South Africa 2017

Roxy Msizi Dlamini, Parktown, Johannesburg (2018)

Akeelah Gwala, Durban (2020)

These portraits are made collaboratively, Muholi and the subjects choosing clothing, location and poses together. Some of them, like the picture of Roxy Msizi Dlamini (2018) have the quality of a classic glamorous studio shot. Others, like Akeeleh Gwala, Durban (2020), posing in a bikini against a scruffy brick wall in what seems to be a deserted brick alleyway, are a reminder of the vulnerability of the subject. Akeelah Gwala’s “Testimony” in the exhibition catalogue says: “I am 24 years old. I am a transgender woman. Growing up was very difficult because your parents think this is a boy… I was raped when I was 16 years old…” The rapist, a well-known pastor, threatened Akeelah’s family, forcing them out of their home. Akeelah refers to Muholi as “Sir Muholi” and says, “I have taken part in several beauty pageants. I perform because as a Brave Beauty, it is important to be visible and make others know about us and respect us as human beings.”

Miss Lesbian I-VII, Amsterdam (2009)

The theme of beauty pageants also features in the series of self-portraits Miss Lesbian I-VII, Amsterdam (2009), where Muholi casts themself as a beauty queen, an early identification with the wider community prefiguring Brave Beauties. The 2009 series brings together several of Muholi’s themes: the beauty pageant and the fashion/fashion magazine world; who gets to perform and who gets to watch; who gets to choose what beauty means? And, as an aside that may sound trivial but isn’t, kitchen utensils as headgear.

As the exhibition unfolds, we discover other projects. Muholi describes themselves as a visual activist, and they have a large network of collaborators, including the collective Inkanyiso (“Light” or “Illuminate” in isiZulu), a non-profit organisation focused on queer visual activism. We see images documenting marches and protests, weddings and funerals, and “After Tears” – gatherings held after burials to celebrate the life of the lost loved one.

Nathi Dlamini at the After Tears of Muntu Masombuka’s funeral, KwaThema, Springs, Johannesburg (2014)

Death is a constant presence in Muholi’s community and work. The largest space in this exhibition is given to Faces and Phases (2006 – ongoing), a collection of portraits – 500, and counting. The images “celebrate, commemorate and archive the lives of Black lesbians, transgender and gender non-conforming individuals.” People appear more than once. Some spots on the walls are empty, marking a portrait yet to be taken or a participant no longer there. One wall is dedicated to those who have passed away.

Not only is this a powerful and moving project, it’s an extraordinarily beautiful set of pictures. As are the last works in the show, the series that started in 2012: Somnyama Ngonyama, Hail the Dark Lioness.

In this work, Muholi has darkened their skin and whitened their eyes, and composed the picture in the manner of a classical, perfectly-lit studio portrait, posing with found objects as “costume” – a footstool as a helmet, say. There is so much to unpick in these images – references to colonialism, Apartheid, to the politics of race and representation, to femininity and “women’s work”.  Muholi presents us with a kaleidoscope of views of injustice, equal parts beautiful and brutal. The photographs were created in different parts of the world, at different times, combining what could almost be witty accessorising with intense cultural and political commentary.

Quinso, The Sails, Durban (2019)

The intellectual focus of every picture is slightly different. Zamile, KwaThema (2016) shows Muholi draped in a striped blanket, as used in South African prisons during Apartheid. In Quinso, The Sails, Durban (2019) Muholi’s hair is adorned with silvery Afro combs, a symbol of African and African diaspora cultural pride. In Nolwazi II, Nuoro, Italy (2015) their hair is stuffed with pens – a reference to the “pencil test” whereby, under Apartheid, if a pencil pushed into a person’s hair fell out they were “classified as white”.

Nolwazi II, Nuoro, Italy (2015)

As mentioned above, Muholi calls themselves a visual activist rather than an artist – though galleries, like Tate Modern, might beg to disagree. Walking through this exhibition, I came away with the impression that their work is on the intersection of art and documentary photography – but also that everything is documentary: everything is story telling, and bearing witness, and the place where “documenting the community” and “expressing oneself as an artist” is continually blurred.

Maybe it’s not just like discovering a new country: maybe Zanele Muholi is showing us a whole new world.

Zanele Muholi is at Tate Modern until May 31, 2021