#cause she’ll say she never said it and then I question my sanity

[never-not-ever]

I hate my life used to run on constant repeat. It was thought so often that it just became a permanent thought.

Just now I fell into bed, with tears in my eyes and I hate my life came back to me naturally but it’s not the same- don’t hate my life, I hate parts of it. I hate my home life. I love myself and who I am as a person and I love my career. But I hate my home life. I hate our relationship and I hate our living situation.

I have a 4 day weekend and I already picked up Sunday morning for a coworker and I am so fucking tempted to pick up more shifts so I’m not stuck at home with her. I picked up on my last weekend off and my supervisor made a joke about re-evaluating my life if I’m picking up on my weekend off. I love him and I didn’t take any offense but Jesus if only he knew.

[dragneelshmagneel]

Can I please get protective Laxus with reader? maybe she gets hurt and he panics or she has to go on a mission and he argues with her to stay?

i’m a sucker for protection tropes, especially with Laxus cuz I feel like he’s the type to not let anyone know his feelings. So ta daaaa enjoy the lil fic!

Ship: Laxus x fem!reader

Warning: some swearing, mentions of injuries and blood, fluffy

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One Shot - Why didn’t you listen?

(Not my gif)

The guild hall was busy, as per usual for FairyTail. Everyone was either drinking or trying to bite each other’s heads off. But today, today was different because you had accepted a job that had everyone questioning your sanity.

“Are you insane?!”

Laxus’s voice boomed over the guild hall causing heads to turn in your direction. It wasn’t the first time Laxus had apposed to you going on a dangerous job, but this time he seemed adamant on you staying. 

“What’s the big deal, Y/n’s a dragon slayer like us she’ll be fine,” Natsu voiced, offering you a cheeky grin. But Laxus only stared him down before saying, 

“No one asked you fire head, now get lost. This discussion has nothing to do with you.” 

“And it has nothing to do with you either, Laxus.” 

You finally spoke, irritated that everyone suddenly had an opinion on what jobs you could take. Even Cana was a bit unsure on whether you should take it, but a quick look at her cards kept her quiet. For now. Natsu laughed, his head shaking as he took a few steps back and headed back down towards the ground floor of the guild hall. Leaving you and Laxus a moment to talk. You could already tell where this was going, Laxus would talk about how you wouldn’t know what you were up against until it was too late or that there are much stronger people out there. Though he never called you weak, the words he used always left you assuming that's how he viewed you.

Both of you stayed quiet, letting the air between you grow thick. You wanted to ask him why he cared, why he bothered to argue against you all the time and why it bothered him so much but every time the question came to your lips, you brushed it away. Laxus clenched his jaw before breaking his silence.

"Did you lose a bet or something? is that the reason why you're taking the job?"

"No I didn't lose a bet," you spat back, annoyed that he would even suggest something so childish.

"Then why are you taking it? it's probably the closest thing to an S-Class quest on the board how did the old man even approve of this."

You could feel it, the surge of power in your body as you fisted your hands. Every time, Laxus was like this every time and it started to get on your nerves. Just let me do what I need to you wanted to tell him. But Laxus wouldn't understand, he was an S-Class Wizard already, considered one of the strongest of Fairytail. You were just the weird shadow dragon slayer who felt like she had to constantly prove herself.

"I don't get why you're getting yourself worked up over this, it was an available job and I took it. Master Makarov approved it this morning with no hesitation.”

“That old man has no sense.”

“He—you know what,” you huffed, annoyed that you felt like you had to explain yourself to him. Time and time again, it was like you had to prove your worth but not this time. This time you were going into that job with a clear head. You didn’t have time to waste.

“Forget it Laxus, I don’t have the energy for this.”

You turned your back to him, your hair swishing with the action but before you could take your first step towards the stairs, a light touch gripped your wrist and stopped you from walking away. You half turned, looking at the hand that felt so warm on your skin, then up to the man who held you in place.

"Don't go," Laxus said softly, his green eyes meeting yours. All you could do was hold you breath, not sure on what to say. You couldn't stay, not when you already accepted the job but most importantly, there was no reason to not go. You pulled your arm back and to your surprise, Laxus let go.

"I leave in an hour."

That was all you said before you made your way downstairs, this time Laxus didn't stop you. As you left him behind, you swore you felt electricity in the air. I could do this job you kept telling yourself, but you couldn't lie. You were nervous, because what if this went wrong? what if you failed and proved Laxus right? Would he hold this over you?

****

After you left, Laxus sat by the bar drinking away by himself. He didn't speak a word to anyone, only to Mira who he ordered from. Not even Natsu's provoking could get him to turn around.

"I don't get it, don't you believe y/n's strong enough to handle it?"

Natsu wasn't giving up so easily. He knew your strength, had fought along side you plenty of times he had seen what you were capable of. Even Laxus had, though you didn't know it. Laxus had always been aware of the power that you had, he just never had to guts to say anything to you. Laxus sipped at his drink, the frothy ale tickling his lips as tried to ignore the horrible images of you getting hurt that his mind kept imagining for him.

"Well, whatever your deal is, she's gunna prove just how powerful she is you just watch. She'll come back in a few days with her reward, a few scraps and bruises sure but she'll be back."

I should've gone with her Laxus thought to himself. Why didn't I go with her?

The first day went by, then the second then the third. With each day that passed Laxus grew more irritable, more so than his usual self. And he seemed to blame one person for his anger.

"This is all your fault old man."

Makarov stirred the spoon in his cup of tea, choosing not to reply at Laxus's outburst. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong, it had been five days you should've been back by now.

"How could you let her take the job?"

"Y/n is more than capable of handling it. I have no doubt she's succeed in her mission and is returning already."

As if by some sick coincidence, Erza came bursting through the doors of the guild hall, Gray and Natsu just behind her. What the? any curiosity Laxus had turned to panic when he saw who Natsu and Gray were carrying.

"Wendy! where's Wendy?" Erza called out, everyone from the guild seemed to freeze but Laxus... Laxus rushed past the crowd, pushing away Freed, Elfman and even Gray and Natsu.

"Y/n..." he breathed out your name, taking you into his arms. You made no sound, and you breaths were raged. Bruises and cuts covered your body. No. No. No.

"What happened?" He barked at the fellow dragon slayer.

"I have no idea, she was down when we found her. Look like whatever she had to fight really took it out of her, I barely sensed any magical energy from her."

Stay with me. Please y/n, stay with me. That was all Laxus could think of as he held you close, carrying you all the way to the infirmary. he looked down at you, how you appeared to be so fragile and small.

"Why didn't you listen," he said under his breath, wishing he could go back in time to stop whatever it was you were up against.

****

Laxus stayed by your side for two days, and it took a lot of Wendy's healing magic to get you breathing properly again. The job was a suicide mission, but you gave it your all. Even if it almost cost you your life. With struggle, you turned your head and ever so slowly opened your eyes. Immediately you saw the head of blonde hair across from you, noted the closed eyes and the soft snores that came from his lips.

"Laxus," you croaked, your voice raw from screaming. His eyes fluttered open, confused by the voice he had heard until he saw you. A weak smile on your face, head bandaged. Laxus shot up from his seat, almost falling to the floor to get to your bedside.

"You're awake."

He seemed dumbfounded, and just when you wanted to reply Laxus did something you never thought he'd ever do. He dropped to his knee's, took hold of one of your hands and placed it to his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're awake."

There was a strange swell in your heart, one you never thought would be created by Laxus of all people. You continued to smile softly, letting your fingers stroke his cheek.

"I'm sorry I—I'm sorry I failed."

You could barely get the words out from your mouth before humiliation filled your chest. You had fought so hard, but in the end you came away with nothing. You were sent to deal with a dark guild after all, alone. And you had failed.

"What?"

Laxus couldn't believe what you had said to him, and as his green eyes took you in he felt ashamed that he might have caused that doubt in you.

"Y/n, you haven't failed. You're alive—"

"You were right, I couldn't handle it. I should've—I should've listened to you"

Laxus laughed to himself. No matter how badly he'd wanted to hear you say it, it felt wrong. He sighed, placing a kiss on top your hand that send a wave of butterflies into your stomach.

"No y/n, you shouldn't listen to me. I was wrong, I've always been wrong to think you'd be anything but capable of handling things on your own. I just wish I could've been there to protect you."

[thefanficmonster]

Interesting Encounters

Corpse Husband *& Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Paranoia and Fear of Invasion of Privacy

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse has an interesting run-in with his regular delivery girl, having the chance to talk to her for the first time despite her having been delivering to his door for months. It’s a big step in overcoming his anxiety and paranoia when talking to strangers.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! Hope you come across the final product of your request and give it a read and if so I hope you like it! Sorry for the wait, I hope it was worth it though! Love, Vy ❤

It’s a regular Monday morning, close to 10AM and Corpse’s face is practically glued to the sound editing app he’s downloaded, playing around with some cool effects to add to his voice in the background of the new song he’s been working on. He hasn’t been able to sleep a wink thanks to the immense excitement, not that he would’ve been able to regardless, but the tune and the lines have been stuck in his head all throughout the weekend and he knows they’ll be bothering him until he turns them into something other people will be able to listen and give an opinion on as well. So far he’s done plenty of work but there’s plenty more to go until it’s done. He’s at that point he usually needs feedback and wants to ask for it but would rather not to avoid either too harsh judgement or fake praise.

He slides the headset off, deciding to take a break for the sake of his sanity before he drives himself to insanity with the intensity of his focus on this new piece. His brain just so conveniently sends him a reminder that his groceries are probably waiting for him outside the door. He has, as of the last half a year or so, had someone deliver his groceries to him to avoid trips to the grocery store with both the whole pandemic situation and the growth of following which translates to growth of the risk of him getting recognized. That’s the main reason - and maybe the only one - as to why he doesn’t interact with the people who deliver to him either. He always gives his delivery person the instruction to leave whatever he’s ordered at the doorstep and if it’s not takeout to not even ring the doorbell. 

That being said, the deliverer of his groceries doesn’t ring the doorbell to give him the kind reminder to be responsible, but luckily he hasn’t forgotten to collect them yet in the six months he’s been practicing this delivery technique.

Going to the front door and looking out of the peephole, he confirms there are several full plastic bags waiting to be picked up on the mat. With the person who brought them not in sight, Corpse unlocks the door and steps out to bring in the groceries for the week. Taking them to the kitchen, he unpacks the goods in the three bags. At first glance he would’ve been fooled, seeing as how it seems that all he has ordered is there. But, each Monday, he receives exactly four bags of groceries. One is missing. He rolls his eyes thinking he didn’t see it outside and left it there while he was hurriedly collecting the rest so he gets up to go grab it real quick.

While in the meantime...

Y/N looks through the remainder of bags in her minivan, making a route in her head for what roads and shortcuts she can take to deliver the last of the groceries to the respective homes they need to be taken to. Upon looking through them, however, she sees a bag labeled ‘MM’ that she uses short for ‘Mystery Man’, aka the guy who never opens the door to greet her whenever she delivers him anything. She works for several delivery services such as takeout, groceries, clothes even and has delivered to that apartment hundreds of times but has never met the resident, giving her the right to call him Mystery Man, aka ‘MM’.

“Ah, shit.“ She mumbles under her breath, realizing she failed to grab the fourth bag when on her way up to MM’s apartment.

Coming to terms with the fact that she’ll have to lose another five minutes going back up to his floor, she grabs the bag and takes off running back inside the building and up the stairs, deciding it would be quicker than taking the elevator.

Just as she arrives to the floor, heading straight for the door, it opens, freezing her in her tracks as her eyebrows shoot up.  At the doorstep stands a guy with an eye patch who looks more surprised and maybe even a little terrified than her. Taking in that Mystery Man is not such a mystery anymore, she returns to her professionalism, remaining at a distance and outstretching the hand holding the bag towards him.

“Sorry, forgot to drop this one off as well, I’m a bit all over the place today.“ She says in her most professional voice.

Corpse too regains his composure and takes the handed bag from Y/N gloved hand. Before he can think twice about it he says, “Thanks, uh...”

“Y/N.“ She says, “I’ve delivered to you countless times, it’s funny you don’t know my name but it’s to be expected since I’ve never seen you. This would be a good time to tell me your name so I don’t have to call you Mystery Man anymore.“ She laughs, cutting her own laughter off barely a second later when she realizes what she’s said, “Oh, fucking shit...”

Corpse chuckles, clear amusement in the sound, “Mystery Man? Interesting, interesting. If I ever become a superhero I’ll make sure to pick that name.” He fails to even pay mind to the fact that he’s spoken a lot more than he’d usually feel comfortable with.

Y/N laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise to come up with a better one if you’re not willing to tell me your real one. Like....Pirate, for example?” she suggests, raising her shoulders.

He can’t help but let out a laugh, “You’d be surprised, but my name is not so far from your mark. It’s, um....” He’s not looking forward to the judgmental look or the questions he might receive in response to his statement but he succumbs to the expected disappointment, “My name’s Corpse.”

Surprisingly, she just smiles - a smile he cannot see due to the surgical mask she’s wearing but the crinkle at the corners of her eyes gives it away. “Cool! Well, I better get going then.”

Just as she turns to head for the elevator this time, seeing as she’s still out of breath from the run up the stairs, Corpse gets an idea he’d probably not be too fond of if he gave himself time to think it over. Which is exactly why he didn’t.

“Hey!“ He calls after her, gaining her attention immediately, causing her to turn around, “You got a minute? I need a little help with something...“

Y/N’s eyebrows raise a little, a moment before she shrugs her shoulders, “Meh, I’m already behind schedule, what’s an extra minute gonna do?” And just like that, they strut their way back towards his apartment.

He can’t help but chuckle, taking the opportunity to crack a joke, “This is how people often get killed. You don’t just walk into a stranger’s apartment like that.”

She scoffs as she passes the threshold, “Believe it or not, you can learn a lot about a person based on the groceries they buy. And trust me buddy, you’re not a murderer.” Earning herself a laugh and a nod with that remark, she continues, “You do appear to be an artist with all the cheap food you’re buying though.”

Corpse laughs yet again, a hint of nervousness is sensed in his laugh this time around though, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re still gonna call me an artist when you hear this song I’ve been working on. Not even out of the box yet.”

Y/N stops in her tracks, “Well, well, well, aren’t I honored to be one of the lucky people hearing this before its release.”

“The first hearing it before its release.“ He corrects her with a pointed look, not missing the excitement that arose in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then!“

Of all the friendship stories that exist, no one can say this ain’t a unique one.

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[seijorhi]

Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him. 

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side. 

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case. 

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything. 

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to. 

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that? 

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him. 

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face. 

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you. 

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you. 

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity. 

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you. 

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned. 

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place. 

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you. 

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye- 

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter. 

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace. 

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his. 

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up. 

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!” 

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms. 

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame. 

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him. 

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds. 

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him. 

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable. 

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace. 

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers. 

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust. 

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating. 

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him. 

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

[tyb1]

If It’s The Right Thing To Do (4)

Words:2886

Character: Seth Clearwater

Note: let’s imagine your Sam’s little sister 

Dialogue prompt:“So let me get this straight when I need you you’re nowhere to be found but when I do something dumb you magically appear.”

Series List

tag list:  @alecvolturiswifeforever​ @scoverdale1​ @anndaydreamer​ @fae-lore​ @queen-of-embracing-uncertainty @nickangel13​ @bi-bi-spencer​@a-vild-bluemyrtle​ @little-miss-naill @crystalxavlove @ilovesethclearwater

Seth Clearwater Masterlist

A/N: message me or comment if you’d like to be on the tag list. sorry it took so long I love you guys:)

“I’m sorry Seth but you and I both know that what you’re saying is bullshit.” I snatched my hand away from his chest, the feeling of his racing heart was no longer there. I knew he wasn’t lying about what he said but for his and my sanity, we both needed this to end here. This entire relationship was causing too many problems...well before he decided to join the Cullens. 

“What (Y/N)....what are you talking about?.” He stood there with tears in his eyes, I’m surprised he didn’t let them fall like I was letting mine fall. That was one thing I hated about him. He held in all of his emotions and then when it came to the breaking point he would explode. Trust me when I say it’s not a good sight to see.

I had to put off a bold face for him. I couldn’t let him know that I was actually dying inside. I was letting a few tears slide down my face but that didn’t compare to the aching feeling that I was feeling inside of me. It was the same feeling I felt when he first left me.

“Fine since you want me to say it so badly”- I roughly pointed my finger in his face.- “ Leave me alone. We’re breaking up so don’t call me, or text me until you get your priorities straight. I’ll be home when you get your shit together.” 

Seth couldn’t look me in the eyes, he started to kick the dirt with his feet. The sand below him started to change different colors from the tears that were falling upon it. He started to mumble a few words but the only thing I could hear was. “You don’t have your priorities straight either (Y/N).”

“It’s because I’m dealing with your shit! I’m around here following you like a lost puppy when you only play mind games with me! I’m so done with you and your bipolar ass!” I spat bitterly, I turned my back to him then marched towards Sam. I turned around to look at him once more, I instantly regretted it. He stood there with his hands in pockets with his head still hanging low. His head shot up instantly making eye contact with me, I quickly snatched my gaze away from him. This was going to be a new start for both of us so I didn’t need to be drawn back in with his puppy dog eyes.

Seth POV 2 weeks later

 I was too much of a coward to say goodbye. I was truly heartbroken. I wish I could run to her and tell her that I love her and tell her that I cherish everything about her but I know she wouldn’t believe me. I was all out of options. The only thing that felt right to do was to cry and that’s what I did. I cried so hard that day that Jake had to carry me home on his back. It’s been two weeks since I have last spoken to (Y/N), two of the longest fucking weeks of my life. I thought losing my dad was painful but this...this has won the race. I couldn’t bear the heartbreak so I started to stay out longer. I asked to take over Leah and Jake’s patrol hours. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. I can only remember our last encounter, it’s like a nonstop movie in my head it was causing me to go insane.

I hate it here.

I have been spending most of my days down at the border. I was monitoring the days where Colin and Brady patrolled, they were my best option to trick into letting me cross the border. It was my only way to apologize to (Y/N). So here I was trying to wave down Collin and Brady so I could continue with my ridiculous plan.

“Hey! Colin, Brady pshhh, come here!” I yelled out in the distance to the two wolves. I was standing at the border waiting for them to shift as well. I wasn’t in my wolf form. The last thing I wanted to do was be a threat to them. 

Brady was the first to walk from behind the tree while Colin stood behind the tree too nervous to face me. I could read their body language from a mile away, they were very uncomfortable with being around me. 

Brady snarled at me, I observed as all of the muscles in his body grew tense as he spoke. “I heard you got into it with Paul. He should have ripped your fucking head off.”

“Wow I wasn’t expecting that from you Brady, but thanks I guess.” I wasn’t trying to be an ass but it just rolled off my tongue. Straight away I regretted it, it only pissed him off even more. 

Brady pulled Colin by the collar of his shirt pushing him towards me. The kid could barely keep his posture straight or his eyes focused on me. He had no confidence in his steps and started to trip over the branches on the ground.

Brady pointed between the both of us with his thumb. He had an irritated facial expression plastered on his face. “Tell him what you told me when he left.” he spat bitterly, a small smirk was rising on his face but soon faded as Colin spoke.

“Do I have to?” Colin mumbled, he waved shyly at me. I took this opportunity to wave back to him. I gave him a small smile as well. Colin, Brady, and I were always close but Brady was always the fiery type while Colin was timid.

“Yes, you have to say it!” Brady exclaimed.

Colin rolled his eyes, “Fine, I said that you were an ass for leaving us behind. It wouldn’t be the first time that you left us.” Brady glared at him to continue, “I also said that you have a reputation for turning your back on us.”

I noticed Brady smiling at Colin; he must have felt accomplished. I must admit, I did feel bad, I left them behind but it was some things that they have not come to reality with.  “Listen I need a huge favor. I need you to let me cross the border so I can see (Y/N).”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Wow so you just completely ignored what we have to say? Why would we let you cross the border and jeopardize us? Yeah, that was a stupid request.”

“You’ll do it because I am your superior. In Jakes’s pack I’m the beta...but don’t ask Leah or else she’ll lie. She thinks she’s the beta because she’s older but in reality, Jake named me the beta.” 

Colin had a questionably look on his face, by now he has grown more comfortable with me and now is standing face to face just like Brady. “Why would you want to see someone who doesn’t want to see you?” 

I was taken aback, “Why do you mean? She wants to see me, there is no way that she would not want to see me.”

“Umm I highly doubt it, she’s been living well since the accident. We went skating last week with us and the others. Not once has she mentioned your name.” Brady slapped Colin across the back of his head. I watched as the two bickered back and forth. Brady pushed Colin away from him. He snapped his fingers to gain my attention from my feet. I hadn’t realized that I was getting sidetracked but I was trying to figure out why (Y/N)  wasn’t heartbroken.

“She made it clear that she didn’t want to be around you anymore Seth. Dude if I were you I’d really leave her the fuck alone. She really wants nothing to do with you. If you try to see her she’ll probably freak out on you. You’re pretty much dead to her.” Brady then smirked, “There’s also another guy that has been keeping her busy lately.”

Ouch. Well, that hurt...it actually hurt a lot. I cleared my throat so I could stop the tears from arising. We’re not about to cry in front of them!

Colin now slapped Brady beside the head. “You could have said it nicer, idiot.”

“What! Her words, not mine!” 

“Just forget about it.” I spat bitterly, If you wanted to forget about me and everything we had then so be it. I could forget you just as fast as you did me. I could care less about those stupid ass memories we made together. Just like you said I really didn’t love you it was just the stupid feeling of you being my damn imprint. 

I continued to walk and degrade our relationship. Jake tried to stop and talk to me but I just shoved him out of the way. He started to piss me off as well. He had his nose shoved so far up the Cullens ass he couldn’t tell you what roses smell like. Then here comes my second problem, Leah.  I didn’t dare shove her. I didn’t want to pick a fight with her right now. I could explode on her and say some things I didn’t mean. 

“Where the hell have you been!? Were you down at the border again?”

“Does it really matter?” I rolled my eyes at the screaming woman. If she wanted to be my mom then she should have birthed me out. She tugged me backward pulling her face up to hers. I stared into her lonely eyes as she did the same with me.

“You’re my little brother so you are my business. Stop doing dumb shit, Seth.”

 I ripped my face from her hands. “So let me get this straight when I need you you’re nowhere to be found but when I do something dumb you magically appear.” I already knew where the conversation was heading. I was not in the mood to hear her shit right now because I was a walking bomb ready to explode.

“Did you go see (Y/N)?”

“No! I didn’t see her. Why do you make everything about her? I could care less about her.” I couldn’t control myself. I threw my fist into a nearby tree. It cracked and fell to the ground. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.  As much as I wanted the tears to stop falling I couldn’t. I have never felt so empty in my entire life. That same feeling of heartbreak resurfaced throughout my body. My chest began to tighten, a sharp pain shot throughout my body as I tried to walk forward.

”Make it stop hurting Leah.” I began to sob uncontrollably. “It hurts so bad, why did she have to go? Why is everyone leaving me? What did I do to deserve this….I just try so hard to make everyone happy but when will it be my turn to be happy?  Mom is fucking dating Charlie now. We barely see her anymore only on fucking holidays!  Why did dad have to fucking go!? And you only check on me when it’s convenient for you Leah! Why is everyone leaving me, Leah!?”

“Seth I-”

I cut her off, “Don’t say it.” I knew I was going to apologize about the accident that happened with dad. I never blamed her for the accident. She didn’t mean any harm by it. I could never bring myself to blame her.

 I started to wipe my tears with the sleeves of my flannel shirt. It brought back the memories of the time that (Y/N) would take my flannel and wear it with her converse and shorts. I started to cry all over again at the thought. I started to choke on my words, everything that was coming out of my mouth was undetectable. “(Y/N) was always there for me and now I chose the bloodsuckers over her. She doesn’t understand that it was the right thing to do. They were going to kill a baby. Leah, I don’t have anyone else. I’m so fucking lonely!” 

“I know how it feels Seth. It hurts like hell but you’ll get over it. I’m sorry that you felt like I wasn’t there for you. I must admit that I was being completely selfish. I love you Seth and don’t you forget that.” I started to relax under her embrace. I haven’t seen this side of her since she and Sam were together. It was good to have her back though. “I love you too.”

I followed her gaze, she was staring up at the stars. “I want you to cry it all out, Seth. All of that heartbreak and sadness you have deep within you I want you to let it the fuck out. If you hold it in it’ll turn into anger then that anger will turn into bitterness. I’ll come back and check on you in the morning.”

I don’t want to be alone…

Leah’s footsteps started to become faint, I was left alone in my thoughts once again. I honestly didn’t want her to go. All I wanted for her to do was to hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright. I was stuck on ground zero like I was when my dad died, no one was there for me except (Y/N). She would probably hold me in her hands while whispering the things I wanted to hear. I wish you were here right now, maybe I wouldn’t be so angry at the world. 

“Fuck it!” I started to yell out in the night air. I threw punches in the nearby tree to try and let my anger out. I hit each syllable of the words in the tree. “Fuck you, Sam! And Fuck you too Paul!! I’m not scared of you!” “I don’t care what anyone does and says to me. I’m going to see her and no one is going to stop me.” I didn’t stop until the tree flew back by the force of my hits.

I shifted into my wolf and ran towards her scent. Brady and Colin were still on patrol however they were both on the other side of the forest. It would take them a while to catch up to me at the speed I was running at. A sinister laugh escaped from my lips. This power or maybe it was the adrenaline….no, this was most definitely power. It made me feel invincible, By no means this was me finally sticking up for myself, or how (Y/N) would say, this was me finally growing some balls.

Her scent was in the direction of the beach, oh how could I miss that scent. I followed the dominating scent but there was something a bit off with her scent. It was a mixture of something foreign. I gazed out to the beach scanning every person that was out there. It seemed like there was a party, there were so many teenagers out around the bonfire. I growled out as I watched you sit on a log with another guy’s hoodie on. His cheap polo cologne filled my nostrils. You were sitting there laughing at something that he said which probably wasn’t that funny. 

“Tch, I want to know what’s so funny.” Anger arose in my body causing my teeth and claws to sharpen. My breathing became irregular and there was a tight feeling in my chest. I tried to ignore it but the harder I breathe the more painful it becomes. I took a step forward and instantly collapsed on the ground. My wolf form quickly disappeared and there I was laying on the ground in the fetal position. I tried to crawl but my body felt numb. The only feeling I had was the tears falling from my eyes down my cheeks and onto the ground. I even tried to scream out your name but nothing came out but a gasping sound.

Was I dying?

I started to cry even harder, the thought of dying always freaked me out but the thought of leaving you with guilt made me feel even worse. The sobs were coming out more frequently than I anticipated. I didn’t have time to catch my breath or even think straight. Everything felt like it was closing on me. The air around me started to thin out making me feel dizzy. The pain in my chest starts to become more unbearable. 

“(Y/N) wait...I..I...can’t breathe!” I choked out the words barely having the strength to do it. My head started to pound from the lack of oxygen I was getting. My hearing was becoming undetectable. I felt my body go stiff and my eyes fluttered shut as well, everything became dark and warm. 

It took every bone and ounce of energy to draw a tiny heart near me. If (Y/N) found me like this then she would see the heart. She’ll know that I died loving her...right? Was I even dying or am I just being dramatic? I don’t know, I just want to embrace the warmness that surrounding me right now. 

[edasnest]

Might you have any Raeda headcanons you'd be willing to share?

Oh shit I didn’t see that you sent this to me until now oh man.

But you better believe I’ve got some Raeda headcanons >:D

[Spoilers for Eda’s Requiem and Knock Knock Knockin on Hooty’s Door! Also a little bit of a character study regarding those eps lol]

Raine is constantly in awe of Eda. Eda’s desire to learn every kind of magic and buck tradition and societal norms sometimes leaves them breathless. When they were young, Raine always admired Eda for the clever pranks she’d pull using different kinds of magic despite being in the potions track. They also admired Eda’s boldness when it came to standing up for herself and her sister.

Eda found Raine to be interesting considering they were in the bard track despite their stage fright, but once Eda watched them perform and saw how they’d lose themself in the music was, no pun intended, magical. They had a fierce grip on Eda’s heart and she didn’t know why; she was fascinated by Raine and made it her goal to be best friends with this oddly shy bard (which she achieved pretty quickly).

After Eda’s curse caused her to unintentionally disable her dad, she was terrified of what it would mean if she was caught off guard like that again. So she started putting up walls. No stressful situations, no hard conversations, no sudden bright lights or loud sounds that she wasn’t the cause of. If she could be in control of her surroundings, she could control the Owl Beast. The elixir she’d discovered that could keep the curse’s side effects at bay helped maintain her sanity and her chill demeanor, but Raine was able to tell she was always slightly on edge. Raine knew about the curse; after Eda had transformed on the Grudgby field the first time everyone had been talking about it, but they didn’t know the extent of it. Everyone just said she’d turned into a monster and then fled; but what kind of monster?? But every time Raine tried to get more information about it, Eda would brush it off and change the subject. It broke their heart watching Eda brush off something that was clearly bothering her, and eventually it all came to a head. She was lying more and more often to Raine and they just couldn’t take it anymore. What happened to their best friend??? Why would she lie to them????? It was maddening and all the frustration and aching in their heart became too much. They needed to focus on something other than Eda. They weren’t nearly as bold as Eda, even after all these years, so they joined the Bard Coven in order to start teaching and building a career for themself. They’d happily welcome Eda back if she’d just tell them what was going on. But it never happened. Burying themself into their work and then, eventually, into the BAtTs helped keep the heartache at bay, but only sometimes.

Eda and Raine caught glimpses of each other as the years passed. They’d spot one another in the market or Raine would see a flash of unmistakable ginger hair dashing around a corner; sometimes they’d hear Eda yelling at some Coven guards and quietly hope she’d make her escape. Eda would occasionally see posters advertising a performance starring Raine; she’d either buy a ticket or sneak in just to listen to them play again. She could never stay for very long though because listening to them play made her heart hurt so much she’d be at risk of turning into the Owl Beast. Raine grabbed one of Eda’s wanted posters and keeps it hidden under some other paperwork in their desk, pulling it out sometimes and going over every detail of the artist’s rendition of her. One day, a new wanted poster came out - this one with a weird skull dog now part of the image and the bounty having increased significantly. Raine would always smirk whenever they saw the new version, although they were alarmed the first time they saw her drawn with all-grey hair. When had that happened? They weren’t that old yet, right??

The day Eda saved the BAtTs and figured out Raine’s secret was maybe the best day Raine had had in years. Their best friend was talking to them again, helping them with their plot. Raine didn’t bother pushing Eda about the last 20 years; their last conversation proved enough that Eda didn’t like it when people pried. But Eda had become not just older, but so much more kind and open. To a degree that sort of shocked Raine. When they asked Eda if she had nothing to lose and Eda took their hand, it was like they’d gone back in time. As if they were both 20 again and daydreaming about a world they’d create for themselves where covens weren’t there to shackle witches down and stage fright didn’t exist; where Eda’s curse never happened and they could stay there on that hill forever.

Eda of course was warring with her own emotions during all of this; she was under the impression that everyone in her life was leaving her again. And not because she was pushing them away this time, but of their own volition. She got her big sister back only for her to go back home to their parents after just a few weeks. She overheard King talk about leaving to find his dad and her apprentice - the first person to ever break down all of Eda’s defenses and show her how to love again - was constantly working on ways to go back to her own home. Eda would be left with Hooty and Owlbert and absolutely nobody else and that hurt so much more than she cared to admit. So when Raine showed up in the town square with their BAtT mask on, using their magic to turn some coven guards into bumbling fools, Eda was a little shell-shocked. The first person to leave her of their own volition was right there in front of her and needed help. So she helped them. And when she became invested in their plots to free wild witches, she felt like she was a teenager again, plotting out pranks with Raine in her secret shortcuts room at Hexside, blushing at every interaction they had because even after all this time, Raine was still Raine. Her Rainstorm. It was like she was starting over, like the last 20 years had faded away, except they hadn’t. Because Luz and King were competing in a race that she needed to be there for. Her past and her present were all different types of painful but finding Raine like this again gave her so much hope! Until she realized she wouldn’t see the end of that race, not if it meant stopping Belos. And she was ready for that, ready for the pain to just stop already, but Raine wouldn’t let her.

Losing Raine again was so much worse the second time. But what they said stayed with her and Eda needed to get back to King and Luz. So when she got back and discovered they’d lost, of course her first thought was to help them. Anything to take her mind off of what she’d just lost. And when King announced that he wasn’t leaving at all, he was legally changing his name? She was “stuck” with him forever? That was too much and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Someone wasn’t leaving her. In fact he was legally binding himself to her. No one was leaving, at least not any time soon. Eda definitely still cried more that night after King and Luz had gone to bed.

In the future, Eda and Raine agree to start from scratch: Eda explains the curse to them in detail, all the things she’s learned about it over the years and specifically with Luz and King and Hooty’s help. She explains that Lilith was the one that gave it to her to begin with and why (Raine is appalled like???? Raine specifically worked with Lilith in that last year before they had been made head of the Bard Coven?? And Lilith showed maybe irritation at best at the mention of Eda, so like?? What the fuck???). Eda also explains how she’s come to accept the curse as something that’s part of her and the history the Owl Beast has that she got a glimpse of which is super intriguing to Raine. Also Harpy Eda was a thing which was maybe the most surprising part of it all.

Raine in the meantime tells Eda about their time working their way up the ranks of the Bard Coven, how they met each of the BAtTs and recruited them, the façade they had to maintain to stay on track to become the head of the Bard Coven (something that greatly impressed Eda given Raine’s history with being an awkward actor).

Eda introduces Raine to Luz and King to which both of them start shooting rapidfire questions at them and overwhelm them pretty quickly. Eda has to shoo the two away before Raine just bursts out laughing, saying something about how they’re definitely Eda’s kids (all of them blush while Raine is laughing). Luz is just as fascinated with Raine’s Bard magic as Eda was when they first met and the similarities between the two are striking. Raine tells Eda as much later on and Eda begins gushing about what a great apprentice Luz is and everything she’s done during her time on the Boiling Isles.

They fall easily back into dating once they reconnect properly and everything’s calmed down a little - Raine will still be humming a piece they’re working on and suddenly grab Eda and begin dancing to the tune, Eda laughing the whole time and making their heart soar. Eda will still play with Raine’s earring when they’re cuddled up together just chatting. Raine will start asking Eda again for her opinion on musical pieces they’re working on and Eda will make suggestions along with some jokes or snide commentary. They both still love watching the clouds overhead on their hill, sometimes playing music, sometimes just holding hands.

Raine loves watching Eda interact with Luz and King. They love watching how easily Eda loves them and how much she’s changed since they first broke up. Once they’re alone together, in a moment total admiration for how far they’ve come, Raine tells Eda they love her. Eda immediately kisses them and starts crying, repeating Raine’s words back to them and mumbling about how she’ll never let Raine leave ever again.

A canon Non-binary love interest to a main character that uses They/Them pronouns??? In my kids cartoon???? It’s more likely than you think.

Anyways I fucking love Raine and I love how much Eda and Raine love each other and I can’t wait to see what ends up happening with Them™️

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Truth

Hey. Hey guys. Remember when I said I was feeling optimistic about this season? God, that was funny, wasn't it?

Let's just... Let's just get into the actual first episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Truth.

We start off with Gabriel repairing the damaged Peacock Miraculous, which also restores Duusu's sanity, before he quickly gives it a test run by transforming with both it and the Butterfly Miraculous.

And good lord, the result looks atrocious. This is the design for the new and improved Hawkmoth? First off, the peacock feather eyepatch looks stupid. Is he trying to be the Phantom of the Opera? When Mayura had the same thing, it didn't completely cover her eye and matched her color scheme. It just doesn't match with this new design here. Other than the feather, the peacock aesthetic is barely visible here. The most we get is a peacock feather pattern on the back of his jacket. And then there's the popped collar and coattails, which only look more ridiculous than menacing. What made the original Hawkmoth design work was how sleek it was. It was simplistic, which reflected Gabriel's no-nonense personality. This just looks gaudy and unnecessary. How was this right after the amazing suit the animators gave Dragonbug?

So after Gabriel designs another stupid looking outfit, we cut to Marinette, who's still trying to figure out how the Miracle Ball works. She accidentally opens it, letting the Kwamis out, who wreak havoc on her room because Marinette suffering is going to be a big part of this episode. This just raises the question: Why can't Marinette simply order them back into the box like Su-Han did, or rather, is going to do? It's still not established what gives the Guardians authority over the Kwamis in the first place.

Two of the Kwamis accidentally start a video chat with her friends, leading to some more Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. But Alya thinks something's up with her friend.

Has Marinette even told Alya she's already in a relationship? Like, at all? It feels like all Alya is there for now is to remind the audience that Marinette and Adrien are “meant to be”, even if they're both in relationships right now. It's either that, or teasing Marinette over her crush and doing nothing to help her anxiety.

Marinette accidentally ends the call, before Luka calls to thank her for the pictures of Adrien one of the Kwamis accidentally sent him. Yeah, even though he barely appears in this episode (barring his scenes at Cat Noir), they're going to talk about Adrien a lot. Marinette continues to stammer around Luka (once again making fun of people who have speech issues), but Luka, being the ray of sunshine in any abysmal episode he's in, is completely understanding of it. He also sets up a pretty funny joke.

Apparently, Marinette missed her last date with Luka yesterday to see a movie that was re-released, Crocodile Heart, that was actually Jagged Stone's first movie. I wonder if it's connected to Crocodile Dundee.

While walking to the movie, Luka and Marinette play a game finishing the lyrics of a Jagged Stone song, establishing the former as a huge fan of the rock star. Before we can actually get an on-screen kiss for Lukanette, Mr. Pigeon attacks yet again, because I guess he's the first villain Hawkmoth wants to use in his new form.

Cat Noir sneaks up on Ladybug, causing her to accidentally throw him off a building before catching him, chastising him for the stupid jokes, yet Ladybug has to apologize for missing patrol with her partner, who casually acknowledges her new status as Guardian before the two go and fight Mr. Pigeon.

By the time they defeat him, the movie ends as Marinette gets back, disappointing Luka. We then get a montage of Marinette bailing on Luka multiple times to stop Akumas and Sentimonsters. To his credit, Luka is seriously torn up by all the times Marinette leaves him, showing he isn't just a calm soul.

After Marinette gets back, Luka takes her underneath a bridge to listen to the echoing sound of the water. Luka says that he never knew his father, and he would always go here to relax whenever he got stressed. He uses this to segue into asking Marinette where she constantly disappears to. He doesn't pressure her or anything like Alya, and he even says that if she still loves Adrien, he'll understand. He only asks for the truth. Unfortunately, Marinette can't tell him the truth, which just breaks the poor boy's heart.

Hawkmoth, now calling himself Shadowmoth, sends out an Akuma and an Amok for Luka at the same time, corrupting a guitar pick signed by Jagged Stone that Marinette gave him. And again, to Luka's credit, he fights back against Shadowmoth's influence at first, saying he trusts Marinette, but the temptation of knowing the truth is too good to pass up. He tells Marinette to run before being akumatized into Truth, assisted by the Sentimonster Pharro.

Truth's design is... pretty forgettable. The guitar pick being prominent around his neck is a nice touch, but it's just a generic black bodysuit with light blue highlights, and he has a third eye instead of a visible mouth. Pharro is also pretty boring, just a giant eye that freezes people in place so Truth can use his powers to make them tell the truth.

So Truth goes back to where everyone else was hanging out before he was akumatized and asks Alya to tell him the truth about Marinette.

Yeah, he's right, Alya. That's what you believe. We're supposed to treat Alya saying Marinette loves Adrien as an unbiased source. Truth asks Rose, Mylene, Tom, and Sabine what Marinette's secret is in this episode, and they all say she's in love with Adrien. That isn't actually the truth. It's like asking an atheist if there is a God. You know what they believe is the truth, but you don't know if that answer is actually the truth. Why not have them reveal other secrets about Marinette, giving the audience subtle character details? Like the writers could make someone say stuff like she still sleeps with a nightlight on, or that she secretly gets cookies from another bakery.

You know what also would have worked? Instead, have Truth catch Marinette before she transforms into Ladybug, ask who she actually loved, and then she'll blurt out Adrien's name, shocking both her and Luka. This could also make Ladybug's confidence in herself waver throughout the episode, wondering if she actually loved Luka at all. That would have been much better drama than what we're going to get instead.

Ladybug charges in to stop Truth, but is zapped by his truth ray, meaning she'll be forced to tell the truth when asked any question. Before she can admit her identity, Cat Noir saves her by retreating with her into the Seine, before reassuring Ladybug that he wouldn't force her to tell the truth by force. It's a nice bit that does show he respects Ladybug's secret, a far cry from his behavior in episodes like “Syren” and “Frozer”. Truth turns his attention to his mother Anarka, and asks who his father is.

Yes. Seriously. This is happening. Luka's father is actually Jagged Stone. I have... mixed feelings regarding this development, but my biggest question is, well... they're doing this now? They couldn't save this for another episode? I mean, was focusing on Luka and Marinette's relationship (something that had been established since Season 2) not good enough of a plot for the writers? Why shoehorn in this plot development? Why not save this part as a teaser for a future episode? You know, have Luka walk home, and remember what he made his mother say as Truth, setting up an episode focusing on his relationship with Jagged Stone.

But no! Instead, we're just supposed to go along with the plot taking a detour. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't want Jagged Stone to appear in this episode.

Truth heads over to the hotel where Jagged Stone lives and asks him if he's actually his father, the latter admitting that Anarka was right. Truth naturally isn't happy.

Well, to be fair, it's still a better title than his first drafts, like “It's Not My Fault the Condom Broke”, or “Up Yours, I'm Not Paying the Child Support, Bitch”.

Honestly, I can get what the writers are going for, and I like the idea of them trying to give some depth to a character who was mostly used for comic relief in earlier episodes. The problem is, as much as they want to portray Jagged as regretful for walking out on his family, it still doesn't excuse him for never even bothering to check in on his children and their mother while writing a song about it. He doesn't even bother to give some money to the person he knocked up.

I'm not saying a conflicted relationship like this can't work in animation (a decent example being Steven Universe slowly growing to resent his mother for her time as Pink Diamond and believing his birth was an excuse for her to avoid responsibility), but you need to put more emotion into this. I don't come from a broken home, but if it turned out my dad was, let's say, “Weird Al” Yankovic, even if I enjoy his music, I wouldn't be happy that he decided to come back now of all times without so much as a “hello”.

Truth goes to Marinette's house/bakery, and starts looking for Marinette's diary to find out her secrets. It's almost like the minor plotline that he has a deadbeat dad was only there to eat up airtime. Ladybug is still affected by Truth's powers, and not long after she summons her Lucky Charm, Cat Noir is zapped too, so he starts asking questions that basically amount to complimenting certain qualities he and Ladybug have. When Ladybug asks him what he thinks about her being Guardian, Cat Noir says nothing's changed between them. It's a nice strategy, very reminiscent of when they had to talk in rhyme when fighting Frightengale. I'm also glad they aren't trying to play up Cat Noir not feeling as important immediately now that his partner has access to top secret information.

Cat Noir Cataclysms Pharro, but rather than destroying the Sentimonster, it causes it to go out of control, accidentally paralyzing Truth with some manipulation from her and Cat Noir. Ladybug then de-evilizes both the Akuma and Amok, defeating Truth.

Marinette struggles to find the words to explain things to Luka, but he says that he'll be waiting for her when she's ready. While walking back to his houseboat, Luka runs into Jagged Stone, who promises to write a song together with him. Because I guess Shadowmoth was kind enough of him to not erase that part of his memory. And of course, Luka just accepts this despite the fact that Jagged was absent from his entire life.

So according to this show, you shouldn't bother to give mean people a second chance, but it's okay to give your deadbeat dad a second chance without harboring any negative feelings? I'm sorry, but I just don't see the point of shoving in this subplot if you're barely going to do anything with it before coming to a resolution. If there was more detail put into it, like if Luka just angrily lashed out at Jagged for abandoning his mom, I would have been more open to it. But in the end, this major character revelation is nothing more than filler the episode doesn't need.

We cut to what I'm surprised doesn't happen at the end of every episode given how much crap she gets, Marinette crying in her bed, saying it's too dangerous to have a boyfriend thanks to Shadowmoth. One of the Kwamis apparently doesn't know what crying is, so Marinette asks them to give her a hug, and the showrunners really need to find another song to play at the end, because the upbeat song playing doesn't go with Marinette crying at all. Imagine if this song played at the end of Deep Space Nine's “In the Pale Moonlight” when Captain Sisko confessed to basically being an accessory to the murder of an alien ambassador. It'd be tonally jarring, wouldn't it?

Even the ending image doesn't feature Luka and Marinette together. Instead, he's hugging it out with Deadbeat Stone like everything's okay.

So yeah, that's how the episode ends. In case you couldn't tell, I thought it was awful.

Remember in my New York Special review, where I theorized that Astruc rewrote it to focus more on Adrienette to stop people from shipping Lukanette? I have another theory that I also want to be taken with a grain of salt. I think this episode might have also been rewritten a little to follow up on that. I mean, why else would Astruc spend two seasons building up Luka's relationship with Marinette only to rip it away the episode after they officially get together? It would also explain why it feels like there's two separate episodes going on with how shoehorned in Jagged Stone is.

But other than that, this episode managed to screw up the one thing I was actually looking forward to about this season, seeing Marinette together with Luka. Even if they were going to break up, I was hoping there would at least be a character arc for Marinette where she realizes what she truly wants in a relationship isn't with Luka, leading into a relationship with Adrien where she feels more confident in herself. I was at least hoping their relationship would last more than A SINGLE EPISODE.

In fact, remember that tweet Astruc made soon after the New York Special, defending Marinette and Adrien essentially cheating on Luka and Kagami respectively?

What exactly was so complicated about Season 4 when you're immediately going to break up a couple you spent two seasons building up? Astruc's predictions are about as accurate as Uri Geller.

And then there's the fact that all everyone talks about this episode is Adrien. Marinette's wall is covered with pictures of him, Alya thinks her friend's abnormal behavior is because Adrien's in the room with her, Luka somehow knows Marinette loves Adrien and is actually cool with it, and everyone else thinks that it's her biggest secret. How convenient is it that all of this happens when barring his scenes as Cat Noir, Adrien doesn't appear in this episode barring a five second cameo?

When I was writing this episode, I saw a tweet Astruc made addressing a question someone posed, asking why Adrien didn't get as much screentime in the recent Shanghai Special. He said that “history does not revolve around him”.

For the love of God, writers, just give Marinette a plotline that doesn't revolve around her feelings for Adrien for once. People already started to get sick of it halfway through last season. Either have her confess and make the Love Square canon, or stop letting it dominate the main story for once. Why can't the writers just let her move on from Adrien for more than a single episode? Give her a goddamn break already.

I once again have to ask: what was the point of building up a relationship between Luka and Marinette since Season 2, if you're just going to break them up the second they get together? Why make a big deal about Marinette's conflicted feelings for both Adrien and Luka if you're just going to ignore her feelings for the latter in favor of the former? And remember, chronologically, this was right after the end of Chloe's “damnation arc”, another plotline that had been built up since Season 2 only to be aborted in favor of “sUbVeRtInG tHe AuDiEnCe'S eXpEcTaTiOnS”. It feels like the writers are trying to punish people for getting emotionally invested in any storyline that doesn't relate to the holy pairing that is the Love Square.

This episode is just frustrating to watch. Part of me knew Marinette and Luka were going to break up, but I didn't think it would be this bad, and it would be so soon. I'm glad they're on somewhat good terms, and I liked the buildup to Luka realizing Marinette might not trust him, but the timing of this episode is what baffles me the most. Is it any wonder I think Astruc may have rewritten this episode?

If any Lukanette shippers need to recover, I'd recommend checking out @mc-lukanette​. They have some wholesome one-shots and fix-it fics for some of the weaker episodes of the series. In fact, she already wrote a fix-it to this abysmal episode that’s so much better than what we got.

[ave-aria]

Rewind

Ectober Week 2020 Day 3: Rewind Summary: Maddie can't believe what she's seeing on the security tape. In shock, she hits rewind. Tags: Reveal fic, Blood, Angst, Implications of character death, Tragedy, Trauma, Oneshot

-

Rewind.

Maddie keeps her eyes on the tv screen as the figures wind their way backwards to the start of the video. She won't look away. Can't. Doesn't dare.

If she looks away, she'll have to focus on something else. The quiet, dusty lab around her. The uncleaned ecto-weapons by the door. The green blood smattered on the blade.

The hollow, empty house looming over her head…

The video hiccups a bit as she hits the start of the feed. Old VHS tapes are odd like that, buzzing out with static where the film wore thin from too many pauses and restarts. It's a sign she's hit the beginning. Maddie presses play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

It was an old security tape, filched from the lab. Onscreen, three teenagers, her son at the lead, slip into the camera's field of view. Maddie leans closer, enraptured by the movement, even though she's seen this moment enough times to have it seared into her brain.

Maybe, if she focuses hard enough, she can learn the secret - how to rewind her own mistakes, go back to a time when none of it has happened, just like in the video.

"Whoa, check it out! This thing's huge! I can't believe your parents built this!" A pause, while the kid adjusts his glasses. "Bummer that it doesn't work though, dude."

"Damn. Was it really supposed to open a portal to the underworld?"

"It's 'The Ghost Zone,' Sam. And yeah. My parents were pretty heartbroken when it didn't work. It kinda just… fizzled out. I hope they're not too upset."

The detached, clinical angle of the shot doesn't do the moment justice. Danny'd always been such a kind boy, thoughtful and empathetic to a fault. Maddie's throat closes up a little, leaving her struggling to breathe. They had been upset. Unbearably so. Their life's work - as Danny put it - fizzled out before their very eyes. It'd been a hard loss to take, one that she and Jack might never have recovered from, had the Portal not miraculously started working on its own, days later.

God. Now she almost wishes it hadn't.

A bright flash draws her from her reverie. Maddie blinks at the screen. A camera flash. In her distraction, she's missed part of the video; Tucker's casual "Lighten up, dude,", Sam's request for a photo op, Danny grabbing a hazmat suit to pose with while she dug the device from her backpack.

"—Got it," Sam waves the printed Polaroid to air out the negative.

"Okay. I showed you the portal. Can we get out of here now? My parents could be back here any minute."

Where had they been that day, anyway? Maddie wonders. Grocery shopping? Visiting the park? Moping, as they tried anything to get their minds off of their most recent failure? If they'd been there —

If they'd been there—

"Come on, Danny," comes Sam's voice, treacherous in its fascination. "A Ghost Zone? Aren't you curious?"

Danny looks into the Portal, clutching the custom white suit made specially for him. Sam smirks, knowing. "You gotta check it out."

Maddie hits pause.

Rewind.

"You gotta check it out."

Pause. Rewind.

"You gotta check it out."

Rewind.

"—gotta check it out."

The remote feels cold and heavy, like ice in her hand. In that moment, a selfishness grips her. She could blame Sam. For all if it. Everything that happened, it all started here, and it started because—

—But she can't blame Sam, because the next moment, Danny turns back, his eyes sparkling with an adventurous spirit. It's a spark of curiosity, brimming at the thought of the unknown; a look she's all too familiar with, one she's seen often on her daughter's face, her husband's - even her own, in the mirror.

"You know what? You're right. Who knows what kind of awesome, super cool things exist on the other side of that Portal?"

That curiosity, it's a Fenton trait, not one that needs to be stoked like a fire. That spark's been burning within him, since the cradle.

"Don't go in," she whispers, as if her advice could change the course of history. Even if he could hear her, though, it would be no use. He can no more resist the call than he can resist breathing.

He pulls on the hazmat suit. Skintight, white with black edging. It's like staring at a photo-negative. Watching her son, Maddie's stomach twists.

How couldn't she see it before?

"Alright. I'm going in." He says. His first footsteps echo, loud, in the hollow of the blacked out Portal…

Maddie's breath shudders in. She grips the remote and, before she can stop herself, hits the button.

Rewind.

She watches as her son walks backwards, double-time, out of the entrance to the Portal. The panic that gripped her fades.

"Mads?" From somewhere up above, echoing down the staircase, comes her husband's voice. Maddie is glued to the video screen, and almost doesn't hear him. Regardless, she definitely can't answer. What would she even say?

"Maddie?" His heavy footsteps echo in the stairwell, trudging closer. "Are you down there?"

A hitch in the tape. Maddie presses play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

Drawn by the sound, Jack trudges the rest of the way down the narrow staircase. She feels a slight reverberation in the floor when he reaches the landing behind her. She doesn't turn around.

"The police called back. Officer McNally said he'd file a missing persons report, and they promised to keep their eyes open. But—" she hears the way uncertainty causes his voice to die in his throat when she doesn't turn to greet him. After a long moment of silence, he draws up to her side. "What are you watching?" he asks at last.

"It kinda just… fizzled out. I hope they're not too upset."

Question. He'd asked a question. Maddie swallows and struggles to answer. "Security tapes," she chokes out.

Understanding, an incomplete kind, dawns on Jack, and vigor jumps back into his bones. "Mads, that's brilliant!" he booms. "Why didn't I think of it? He comes into the lab all the time! We can use the security tapes to see when he last—"

"I found this tape in Danny's room," she interrupts.

Again, his voice falters in confusion.

"Under the bed," she elaborates, as if that will help. And continues watching, detached.

"Can we get out of here now? My parents could be back any minute."

The flickering light of the tv fills the lab, ominous in its glow. Jack hesitates. Maybe he's picked up on the subtext by now. Maddie can picture his eyes drifting from the staticy screen to the items in front of it, scattered across the table. He reaches out fro the shoebox sitting beside the tv. Taped to its front, written in the cursive, unmistakable scrawl of their son's handwriting, is a note that reads:

'If I Never Come Home'

"Maddie, what is this." Jack's voice is uncharacteristically heavy. Looking to her for guidance. For answers.

For once, she has none to give.

"Watch," Maddie whispers, still trapped by the screen. Automatic, her fingers hit the button.

Rewind.

With no other options to grasp at, he does.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

Watches as the kids approach the Portal.

"Aren't you curious?"

Watches as their son zips up the hazmat suit.

"Alright, I'm going in."

Watches as he disappears into the empty cavity of their greatest invention.

Click.

Watches as it thrums to life, with a scream.

"Da—Danny no!" Jack yells in tandem with the two remaining teens. He lurches forward, hand outstretched, to stop the agony onscreen. "He's not - when did he -"

"It's old, Jack," Maddie whispers. "From when the Portal started working."

Jack spins to stare at her. "You mean - Danny's the one who—" he's visibly struggling with the information, the same way she did, on her first viewing. "But—he never said—"

Right, Madie thinks. He never said anything. Jack's confusion is laughable, though. Why Danny never told them—that much is painfully clear.

"Guys?" Over the yelling and the panicking and the electric cackle from the Portal, their son's terrified voice cuts through the din. "G-guys help, what's happening?!"

Tucker and Sam are black silhouettes stumbling backwards from a swirling green glow, but they freeze and scramble to right themselves, lurching forward to catch someone as he stumbles through the gate.

Phantom - Danny - emerges from the portal, falling to his knees.

"…No," Jack says. Disbelief is thick in his voice. "That can't be… no."

Maddie lifts the remote.

Rewind.

A flash of light. A curdling scream. A shock of confusion, panic, scramble.

Danny Phantom stumbles from the portal.

Jack stares for a long time. Then he reaches out, snatching the lid of the shoebox for a second look at the evidence. The note, accusatory, stares back at them.

"This is how he tells us." Jack doesn't often whisper, but it seems like he can't do anything else. Her husband looks at the empty shoebox, the screen, the VCR. "Our son is Danny Phantom, and this is how he tells us. I…" he trails off.

Maddie almost can't believe it, how easily Jack arrives at the conclusion. It took her twelve viewings for her to wrap her mind around it, and it still hasn't really sunk in. But then, that's always been Jack's strong poing - those intuitive leaps of logic. Ones every scientist both loathed and envied.

"Did it kill him?" he moves seamlessly onto the next question that tripped her. Somehow, Jack's voice is even quieter this time.

Maddie shakes her head no. If they watch the video long enough, about ten minutes in, Danny manages to change his way back to human. If their invention did kill him, it wasn't permanent. Not that time, at least.

She's too close to thinking about it.

Rewind.

"But—" she can't stop Jack from thinking, though. He barrels on, heedless of breaking the fragile grasp Maddie has on her sanity. "But if all this time — Phantom—"

A hitch in the tape.

"We've been—"

Press play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

"—Don't tell me we've been trying to waste our own kid—"

If Maddie weren't so detached, she might laugh. Waste. God, he can't even say it.

"Trying?" she asks instead. Bitter, the word sticks to her tongue.

She's not looking at the tape now. She's looking at him. And Jack, oh, Jack, he just stares down at her, a dark horror growing in his eyes.

He whips around to look at the bloodied weapons sitting at the base of the stairs.

Exactly where they left them two days ago, after that nasty ghost fight. When they came home to find a broken house, their daughter crying at the kitchen table, and their son just - gone.

"No." Jack backs up a step. "No no no no no no no—"

A flash of light. A curdling scream—

In an instant, Jack is moving. He snatches up weapons, whatever he can find, and bolts for the staircase, vaulting his way up to ground floor. Distantly, Maddie hears the doors slam. The RV thrumming to life. The screech of tires as Jack peels out of the driveway.

In the cold wake of his departure, Maddie turns back to the tv. She should go after him, she knows. But she's not quite done watching. Jack's always been a man of action, after all, but she's the analytical one, who studies, who marvels, who gathers the facts she sees.

Phantom, onscreen, slumps against his friends while he drips ectoplasm to the floor. He stares down at his white-gloved hands, his glowing green eyes wide in shock. Maddie wonders if he knew, then, what would become of him. What his parents, who raised him, who swore to protect him, would do.

She can't face those questions. Not yet. Not yet. Instead, she lifts the remote.

And rewinds.

A good scientist, a rational scientist, never draws conclusions while she's still gathering evidence. So as long as she's still watching—

A hitch in the tape. She's at the beginning. Maddie presses play.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

As long as she keeps watching, she doesn't have to do anything with this information. All she has to do is watch.

So she watches. She rewinds. And she plays. She can't look away—

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here—"

She doesn't dare.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down h—"

All she can do is rewind—

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let y—"

And rewind—and rewind—

"Mom and Dad would kill me if—"

Until she finds evidence contrary to her theory…

"Mom and Dad would kill me—"

Or she finds Its inevitable End.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they knew I let you down here."

Rewind.

"Mom and Dad would kill me if they—"

Rewind.

"Mom—"

Rewind.

"Mom—"

Rewind.

"Mom—"

-

[AO3] [FFN]

[shera-dnd]

Had to split a simply colossal chapter into two smaller ones, so here is the first of those

Now featuring the faes’ true forms and an ungodly amount of simping

“I believed we had our winner when Lady Polendina got that perfect bullseye,” Weiss retold as she walked with her companions through the festival grounds, “but Lady Rose managed to, and I still cannot believe it, split her lover’s arrow with her own!”

“I’m certain there is an innuendo to be found there,” Ilia commented, earning her an offended scoff from the would-be-knight.

“Must you?” Weiss asked in exasperation.

“Believe me, Lady Gigas, she most certainly must.” Blake assured her, “but please continue. I’d love to hear more about our favorite couple.”

“Well, after they had finished utterly humiliating me in the shooting range,” she regaled, “they decided it was time to do so again in the sparring fields.”

“What is it with you knightly folk and sparring?” Ilia asked, seemingly annoyed, “is this your means of courtship? Were Lady Rose and Lady Polendina inviting you to join them in their tent?”

“It is a means to maintain our skills while coming to better understand each other!” Weiss countered, “and just because I now know where my preferences lie does not mean I’ll fall for the first woman to best me in combat!”

“Of course,” Ilia replied, though Weiss found no reassurance in her tone, “after all that honor would fall to Lady Blake, and we all know her preference is for women two times your size.”

“I have never claimed otherwise,” Blake replied with a shrug, “now would you mind procuring us some dinner, before you make our friend pop a blood vessel.”

“Very well,” Ilia sighed, as if she had been burdened with a terrible quest, “I shall meet you both back at camp. Please, do torment the Schnee in my absence.’

She offered them an over exaggerated bow and made her way deeper into the festival grounds, quickly disappearing amidst the crowd.

“You do know I could have just made us dinner, right?” Weiss asked, annoyance clear in her tone.

“And I’m certain it would have been delicious,” Blake replied, “but I’m not certain it would have been worth your sanity.”

“Of course.”

She hated to admit it, but she did not mind this at all. In fact she quite enjoyed the little trading of barbs that they partook in every day. It made for some interesting entertainment, and it allowed her to know Ilia a little better.

She was also quite enamored with the little laughs that would escape the fae whenever she got Weiss to make a fool of herself. No, she most definitely did not wish to question why she found Ilia’s laughter to be so endearing.

Definitely not.

Weiss decided then to archive those thoughts, and focus instead on the second most embarrassing topic in her mind.

“Thank you,” she muttered as they began making their way back to camp.

“No need to thank me,” Blake waved off, “wouldn’t want you two to strangle each other.”

“No, I meant…” Weiss sighed, “thank you for calling me a friend.”

Blake offered her a soft smile that only served to embarrass her further.

“I’m glad I got to call you that,” she replied, “and I’m sure Ilia thinks the same, even if she’ll never admit it.”

That got Weiss to smile back. Her life so far had been one of isolation, she had barely met anyone outside of the few select guests her father would allow into their manor, and had failed to find anyone who cared for her with the exception of Winter and Klein. But now she had been able to adventure beyond the walls of Atlas and find people who she could call friends.

Without Ilia with them to incite arguments and pester her, the rest of the walk back to camp was held in a comfortable silence. Though Weiss certainly missed the opportunity to get back at her friend for the earlier annoyance.

“If I may,” Blake began as soon as they arrived at their camp, “would you mind if I spent the night in my own skin for a change?”

It took Weiss’s mind a long moment to register what she meant by that request, but when it did she jumped to attention.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asked, looking around to make sure no one had heard that.

“Our camp is secluded enough,” she shrugged, “and no one ever comes here uninvited.”

“If you’re sure,” Weiss replied, “then I would not mind.”

Blake smiled at her in thanks and began undressing herself. Weiss promptly turned to look away, eyes focusing on anything but her naked companion. What followed was a series of noises that she would fail to describe, though they tempted Weiss to look back at her, if only to make sure that she’s okay.

After a moment of silence she heard the heavy thump of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by Blake’s familiar voice, “you may look again now.”

Where once stood the proud Black Knight of Vale now sat something else entirely. Her form had grown tremendously, now easily challenging that of Lady Xiao Long, and her body had grown completely covered in black fur, with a small white spot on her chest and two others on the back of her now clawed hands.

Her hair too had grown longer and wilder, and the face that hid behind it now took the features of a feline, especially her golden eyes which now reflected the bonfire’s light with an eerie glow. Behind her sway a long black tail, though mostly catlike it was adorned with thorns and purple flowers.

No, not adorned, that plant was as much a part of her body as her tail.

Stunned was perhaps not enough to describe the state in which Weiss found herself right now. She had been raised on stories of the terrifying and monstrous fae that hid in the forests beyond the walls of Atlas, and though Blake’s true form definitely fit that description, she still carried herself with the same grace and nobility that she did in her human skin.

She was still a knight, and she was still Lady Blake.

Unfortunately Blake seemed to take notice of all the staring, “if this causes you discomfort, I could change back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Weiss assured her, “I was simply unprepared.”

Pleased with that response, Blake began to vigorously stretch herself as if she had spent many hours locked inside a tight space - a comparison that was perhaps too appropriate for her much smaller human form - and behind her her tail swayed happily.

“I haven’t been able to don this form since we arrived for the festival,” Blake informed, “it is good to feel like myself again.”

“It won’t be good for long if the local knights decide to take our hides,” the familiar and ever cheerful tone of Ilia’s voice called as she approached camp and unceremoniously dropping a basket between the two of them, “though do enjoy your dinner while you can.”

“Thank you, I certainly plan to,” Blake replied, seemingly unfazed by Ilia’s usual foul mood, “now come, sit, take off that damned glamour for once.”

Ilia stared at her, as if she was trying to will her fellow fae to stop with this nonsense.

It did not work.

“She will not give in, Lady Ilia,” Weiss said, “we’ll already be in plenty of trouble if we’re found in the presence of one fae, a second one won’t make a difference.”

Lady Ilia was unamused by Weiss’s commentary, “and what, pray tell, is your plan in case they do find you in the presence of not one, but two fae?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, standing up so she would be on the same level as her, “I’ll have a heroic last stand where I’ll fight off a dozen knights, before rescuing you on horseback.”

“Is that so?” Ilia asked, trying to keep her lips from twitching.

Weiss stepped closer.

“Oh yes, and then we’d ride off towards the sunrise and you’d…” she paused for a moment, trying to remember something, “what was it you said? Swoon and praise me for my strength and bravery.”

“Didn’t you say you held no attraction towards swooning maidens, Schnee?” Ilia teased, her smile slowly beginning to take hold.

“I’d be simply fulfilling my knightly duties, Lady Ilia,” Weiss insisted.

“You know what, Schnee?” Ilia began, with a smile on her face as she closed the ever shrinking gap between her and the Schnee, “I think I will doff this damned glamour, if only so I can watch you get skewered by those dozen knights while I flee on horseback by myself.”

“I’ll make sure to make it entertaining to you, my lady,” Weiss assured her, now face to face with the smiling fae.

A chuckle escaped Blake’s lips, earning her the most terrifying glare from Lady Ilia. The knight was, of course, unimpressed, seeming to consider a comment in her mind before reconsidering and letting it die without being voiced. A decision that Ilia greatly approved.

“Now will you please cast away that glamour of yours and relax for once,” she said instead.

“Very well,” Ilia surrendered with a sigh.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then it was like the Ilia Weiss had known had shattered like glass, and what stood behind the illusion could only be described as breathtaking.

Eyes of light blue turned into pure glowing white, freckled skin turned to thousands of scales woven together into a tapestry of color. On her forehead now stood two large thorns, almost like a pair of horns, though they exuded the same regal air as a proper crown.

Lady Ilia then disposed of her - now much bleeker looking - dress to reveal a growth of leaves and vines covering her more...intimate places. Still it was not her crown nor her naked form that had Weiss in awe, it was her wings.

They were not unlike those of a butterfly, though no butterfly could ever hope to match their beauty. They were the light of her eyes fractured again and again into more colors than Weiss's mortal eyes could see, all of them weaved together in a pattern that could make even the stained glass of Atlas's grand cathedral look plain by comparison.

It took all of Weiss’s will not to fall to her knees in worship of the beauty she had been given the privilege to bask in. Though it didn’t seem she was able to completely hide her reaction, as when their eyes met she saw surprise in Lady Ilia’s face, and for a moment it was as if every fragment of color in her body had turned to the brightest of pinks.

“Should I give you both some space?” Blake asked, tail swaying slowly behind her.

“Absolutely not!” Lady Ilia shouted, sitting back down and refusing to look back at the still stunned wannabe knight.

It was now Weiss’s turn to shift through several shades of pink. She whispered a silent prayer that the gods would return to Remnant if only so the God of Destruction could completely remove her - and her shame - from the face of this world. This gave her some time to recover, at least enough that she could sit by the campfire with her companions again.

Unfortunately for the both of them that awkward tension lingered over the camp like a thick fog. It did not help that neither of them found it within themselves to look at or even address each other. They left it all to Blake to rescue them from their self imposed punishment.

“Ilia,” she called, “I believe you had questions for me.”

Lady Ilia seemed to take a few moments to recognize that she was being spoken to, but bolted up in attention as she understood the opportunity that was being given her.

“You’ve yet to tell me how you came to join the humans,” she reminded, “or why iron doesn’t burn you.”

That piqued Weiss’s interest as well. She knew Blake had to have some kind of magical trick to don her armor without burning herself alive, perhaps if she could share that secret they could use it to help those fae who wished to live among humans.

“This isn’t some trick you can replicate, Ilia,” Blake explained, killing Weiss’s plan on the spot, “this is not a weapon the unseelie can use.”

Ilia let out a sound not unlike a growl, showing that her teeth were much sharper than before.

“Not everything I do is out of spite for humanity!” She almost shouted, and her body shifted into bloody reds and harsh yellows. Though that display clearly failed to intimidate her fellow fae, earning herself only a raised brow, a reaction that caused her to change colors once more, this time to pinks and blues. “You left us. I want to know why.”

“But I have already--”

“No,” she interrupted, colors shifting over and over through her body, unable and unwilling to settle, “you don’t just change your mind like that for no reason. I want to know what happened.”

Blake sighed, tail wrapping around herself as she seemed to deflate, “this story is quite long, Ilia.”

“So is the night,” Ilia countered, “come, tell us.”

Blake looked at her, then at Weiss, who offered her her most reassuring look, “very well then.”

[missdawnandherdusk]

Country Girl

Muggle!Reader X Draco 

London Boy

Summary: Draco has your heart and you have his, a muggle and a wizard, but what happens when you take him home... to America, to your very muggle parents, and your very muggle small town? 

A/n: As promised here is some ridiculous fluff and shenanigans between these two dorks. Also, this gets very southern very quickly, so as a disclaimer: none of this is meant to offend anyone at all, it’s just simple writing fun. I know a lot of you come to Tumblr to destress from the news, so this is free from current events and can even be seen written around circa 2010 if you want. I love you all and let me know what you think because I love being validated your comments and reblogs

“Um, do you maybe want to come with me back home?” The question was timid as it left my lips.

“To America?” He raised an eyebrow looking up from his workstation where he was currently brewing Amorentia—not that he used it, but it brought comfort to me and worked surpassingly well in a diffuser.

“To put it broadly, yes.” I smiled, knowing he had no idea how expansive America really was. “I’m off for the summer and my parents have been nagging me nonstop to meet you, and well it’s home,” Shrugging I hopped up on his desk and he eyed me warily, moving some things out of my way.

“How long?”

“Well I suppose you could apparate back any time you like, but...”

“How long?” He pressed again.

“A week?” I was almost afraid of his reaction.

Not that I was afraid of him, but I knew him well. He liked order. He like routine. Everything had a place and he preferred it if it stayed in that place. Which included him, in London.

“I understand if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot. Muggle parents, Muggle girlfriend, America...” I trailed off looking down. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“Love,” he tilted my chin up. “If you want me to go with you to meet your parents, I suppose I can manage a week,” he smiled.

Happiness fluttered in my chest as I threw my arms around him.

“Careful dear,” he scolded, easily pulling me into his arms, carrying me. “This stuff takes forever to wear off and I’d rather not have you drugged for the next few hours.”

“Could be fun,” I giggled, nuzzling into his neck.

“You say that now,” he chided, a smile evident on his face. 

_____________________________

“Now, they don’t know that you’re a wiz,” You reminded him. “And I’d rather not have to obliviate my parents, so if you could— “

“You act like I’m a teenager Y/n, I’m not stupid,” Draco rolled his eyes. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. A challenge.

“And, a very fair warning: I am very...posh compared to my parents,”

Draco laughed; the word so unfamiliar to your lips and your American accent. Nor could he imagine in any way that someone would regard you as posh. He loved you, of course, but a lady was something you were not—not that he didn’t treat you like one, but that was beside the point.

But nothing you said could ever prepare him for what waited at your doorstep. Not the hours on a flight. Not the ride back in another muggle car. Not the songs on the radio. Not the conversations he had with Hermione and Harry unbeknownst to you.

“Pumpkin!” An older man in a buttoned-up flannel pulled you into his arms. His drawl was thick, making yours sound almost normal. “You are too pale darlin’ ain’t enough sun over there in England,” he chided, a huge smile on his face.

“Oh nonsense,” your mother replied, her drawl having more of a twang. “She’s just fine. Our little Georgia peach,” You face went a little pink as you blushed.

“Momma, Daddy, this is Draco,” he heard more of a drawl slip into your words and Merlin was he in trouble.

“The Brit,” your father scrutinized him for a moment before the smile returned. “Pleasure to meet you son,” he held out his hand.

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you,” Draco almost purred, shaking your father’s hand. 

“Oh Lord, hear that accent,” your mother fawned. “No wonder you fell for him, Y/n,”

“Mom,” you whined, turning a shade of red.

“Well come in you two, you must be exhausted from the flight.”

Draco should have taken your warnings more seriously. Maybe you should have eased him into more. Because a very Muggle farmhouse in the middle of the country with your very American parents was something he was not prepared for.

The floorboards creaked under his socks—shoes left by the front door—as pictures hung on the wall, a lot of them of you in various childhood phases: fishing, in trees, driving your beloved Jeep, posing next to a dead stag—that one made Draco snort, if only Harry knew. There were also tiny little ‘t’s all over the wall that Draco just didn’t understand the meaning of. Were they to ward something off? Was it a collection? Did they stand for some name he wasn’t aware of?

“Y/n, you go on with your mom and fix up dinner,” Your father nodded you two off to the kitchen.

“Dad,” You warned, a familiar look in your eyes.

“You worry too much.” Your dad shook his head. “Now, go on,”

You paused a moment, your stubborn streak flaring before you disappeared into the house, leaving Draco alone with your father, feeling quite anxious.

“Come on in, boy, sit on down and tell me about yourself,” Your father beckoned him to sit on a well-worn leather sofa, a knitted afghan thrown over the back.

Draco knew how to keep light conversation—a perk of being a Malfoy—but this? This he had no idea how to do. Your father seemed to pick up on that as he chuckled.

“So, you like my daughter, do you now?” He asked, his eyes holding the same shade as yours. 

“Yes sir,” Draco nodded. “Very much,”

“Yeah, we think she's something else,” Your father shook his head, chuckling. “Her daddy's girl... mama's world.” His face became hardened, serious, “She deserves respect and that's what she'll get ain't it, son?”

“Y-yes, of course,” Draco stammered. “Always.”

The smile came back to your father’s face and Draco felt like he just passed some sort of test.

“Well, y'all, run along and have some fun while you’re here. Just keep her safe. She’s got a knack for trouble,”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Draco chuckled.

“Dinner!” Two voices called from somewhere else in the house.

“Comin’ darlin’,” Your father called back, standing. “Shall we?” He gestured for Draco to go first.

........................................

“Was that so bad?” You asked later that night as you got ready for bed. It was different, seeing you flit around the room with memorized paths and actions.

“One of the most bizarre things I have ever experienced,” he confessed. “But I have to admit, your mother is a brilliant cook,”

You laughed.

“Oh, tell her that tomorrow, she will love you to pieces,”

Your drawl was coming in thicker the longer you lingered home and Draco began to understand the fascination with his accent, because your drawl did something else to him. The small room you were in was yours. A true work of art that was merely shadowed by your room in London. The soft blue tone room was calming as fairy lights were strung and antique furniture filled the room. Dried flowers and various paintings and posters filled the room matching the quilt spread underneath him.

You came over to his sitting position on the bed, nestling between his legs. His hands slipped up the backs of your thighs and you swatted him.

“Behave,” you hissed. “You have no idea how long it took me to convince Daddy to let us stay in a room together. I’d like to not lose that battle on the first night.”

“You has to ask your dad for permission to sleep with your boyfriend, in your room, as an adult?” He raised an eyebrow. “And I thought my parents were strict.”

“Oh, you don’t know the meaning of the word, pretty boy,” you smiled and draped your arms around his neck.

“I think I quite like this side of you,” Draco grinned.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,”

“For the love of my sanity please use proper English,” Draco dismayed to your amusement.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” You dropped your drawl easily.

“You know what? Never mind,” Draco grinned, causing you to laugh harmoniously.

Never once had Draco ever seen you be a morning person, except now. The sun filtered in through the flowing curtains and your eyes fluttered open, landing on his.

“Mornin’,” You greeted.

“Good morning,”

“You ready?” There was a mischievous look in your eyes.

“For?”

“Well, I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet my friends, so I thought today we could go fishing.”

“Fishing?”

“Well, it’s not deer season so... we can’t exactly hunt. But it is fishing season.” 

“There are seasons for you to kill wildlife?” He asked, watching you get ready.

“Yeah?” You paused, looking over at him. “Helps keep the animals from being over hunted while still keeping up the sport and population down. Daddy and I do it more for the population, not the sport,” Your smile was soft. “And venison is to die for when momma cooks,”

After a breakfast that Draco would be craving for the rest of his life, you loaded up the Chevy pick-up truck (you had informed him) with bait and poles and against his better judgement, he got in.

_____________________________

“I’m gonna seriously have to thank Hermione for takin’ you shoppin’ beforehand,” You grinned, eyeing Draco in a short-sleeved Henley and khaki shorts. “Knowin’ you, you only own suits and dress pants.”

“I own t-shirts,” Draco refuted, clinging to the door handle for dear life as I meandered the backroads towards the lake.

I rolled my eyes and turned onto the trail that would take us to the docks. 

“This isn’t even a road!” Draco dismayed. “It’s barely dirt!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what four-wheel drive is for,” I grinned. “And honey, I fear the day someone takes you muddin’.”

“Mudding?” He asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I smiled, chuckling darkly, imagining the pristine Draco Malfoy anywhere near a four wheeler or ATV.

Hopping into the boat, Draco eyed me, hesitant on the dock. 

“You can drive this too?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“It’s barely anything to drive,” I rolled my eyes, throwing my hair up. “Now come on, city boy. A little country ain’t gonna kill you,”

“No,” Draco agreed, settling in the boat beside me. “But a country girl just might,” The purr of his voice had me blushing and fumbling to kill the engine and grab a fishing pole.

Draco absolutely refused to touch the live crawfish. His face scrunched up in disgust as he watched me cast my line in.

“Oh, like it’s any different than you and your potion’s ingredients,” I pointed out. 

“That’s different,” He pouted.

Smiling at his theatrics, the day consisted of Draco dismaying at just about everything. Including but not limited to: sunscreen, mosquitoes, not being able to hold my reeling hand, the heat, the sun, Oakley sunglasses—of which he looked absolutely stunning in and it wasn’t fair—baseball caps, live bass, me handling said bass, me handling a knife, the live crawfish again, the heat... again.

“Oh my God, Draco,” I huffed, not nearly as annoyed as I sounded.

“I’m sorry,” He drawled. “But this is absolutely absurd,”

I might have shoved him into the lake.

When he resurfaced, utter shock was on his face, as well as anger as he scolded my name. 

“Yes?” I answered innocently. “Not so hot anymore is it?” I bated my eyelashes.

“You little—”

“Oh, and watch out for gators,” I grinned mischievously as his eyes went wide with fear. “Kidding!” I laughed, slipping off my crocs. “Probably,”

He was hanging onto the side of the small boat when I leapt off the side and into the icy water. 

“What in the world are you doing?” Draco swam over to me.

“Swimming? Since someone thinks that fishing is absurd,” I mocked his accent. 

“I don’t sound like that,” He grumbled.

“Yes, you do,” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Stop being so uptight, Dray. Whatever you’re holding onto... reputation or whatever voice that’s in your head...” His face fell.

I knew that he had been raised to hate everything around him. The innocence and simplicity of it. Sure, it had taken some time and I had made a home in his heart, those prejudices fading, but he still fought hard sometimes. And maybe I wish he didn’t. And maybe I was selfish to think that.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. “I just... Your world is so incredible, Draco. Filled with things that are beyond my wildest dreams, and maybe I wanted to show you into mine,”

His arms snaked around my waist as he held me close, resting his forehead to mine.

“I’m sorry too,” He murmured softly. “Of course, I want to be a part of your world as well, but— ”

“Maybe fishing was a bit over ambitious?” I mused.

“Maybe slightly,” He chuckled, pressing his lips to mine sweetly. 

“At least we have dinner tonight,”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not,”

I wasn’t.

__________________________________

The next day wasn’t as ambitious as fishing with you, but it was still quite new to him. Dressed in a sundress, you took his hand and lead him down the main street of your small town, the small shops reminding him of a fairytale. He was surprised at how many people recognized you and said hello. A kindness that he wasn’t accustomed to in the Wizarding world. Especially when the café owner had a long conversation with you and then said that your lunch was ‘on the house.’

“Not too bad?” You asked softly, after finishing lunch. 

“Not bad at all,” He smiled.

After bringing in the groceries from a quaint muggle shop, into your warm little yellow kitchen, you took Draco’s hand and led him into the backyard. The sun was setting just beyond the horizon, painting the sky in crimson colors.

“Mr. Fancypants alright with climbing a few trees?” There was a smirk on your face. 

“What are we? Five?” Draco chuckled, following you into the tree line.

“Well, I guess that is when daddy and I built this,” You gestured to a certain tree, where an emasculate treehouse resided.

Despite the wooden construction’s age, it still held well. Draco was half expecting it to be bigger on the inside, a commonality in the Wizarding World, but no, what he saw on the outside was what was reflected on the inside. This treehouse held no secrets. Draco smiled as he watched you climb the tree with no shoes on—a commonality he had noticed. You went barefoot whenever you could.

You helped him up and his eyes darted around, taking in the little house with it’s rope banisters, many windows and various trinkets and knickknacks that Draco had no hope in naming or identifying. When his eyes found you again, there was a blanket folded into your arms.

“When I was little, I used to come out here and stargaze... I don’t know how many times Daddy would have to come up here and carry me home ‘cause I fell asleep,” A smile touched your lips.

Draco looked up to the wooden roof and raised an eyebrow skeptically. You caught his question and nodded to a rope to his left. His fingers grasped the course fibers and tugged it experimentally. A mechanism went off and the roof parted at the gable, letting him see the first stars that had come out to play.

There was something different about looking up at these stars with you. He had spent years studying them in class and couldn’t remember half of what he had learned, but with you, they held a different meaning. You knew all of the stories it seemed. The ones that he learned as a child and some he didn’t. It was jarring, hearing the familiar stories fall from your lips. After all this time, maybe your muggle world wasn’t so far off from his magical one.

True to your word, you did end up sleeping softly in his arms as he looked up at the stars, then down at your peaceful face. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to spend the night outside—and neither would he for that matter—he carefully scooped you into his arms, and instead of risking dropping you, he simply apparated to the soft grass below and headed up towards the house.

Your father was waiting on the porch, the light still on despite the late hour, nursing a can, a soft smile on his face.

“Good to see that some things don’t change with her,” Your father opened the door for him. “Sometimes I think I lose her to her fancy schools, halfway around the world,” There was an air of melancholy to his words.

“I can assure you that you’ll never lose her,” Draco smiled down at you. “She adores and loves you more than you’ll ever know. The way she lights up when she talks about home...”

“You’ve made an old man very happy tonight Draco,” Your dad smiled. “Now go on up, I’m gonna close the house up for the night,”

.................................

“I’d like to apologize in advance for just about everythin’ that’s about to happen,” You took his hand smiling.

“How bad can they be?” Draco mused. “You’ve met my friends, and that went well,”

“Uhuh,” You laughed. “Sure. I’ll take that vote of confidence.” You easily backed your truck up into the circle of other vehicles surrounding a rather large bonfire that gave Draco a bit of anxiety.

“Look at what the tide washed in!” Someone called from the back of a pickup truck. 

“No way!” Another gasped.

“Since when did you get home!?”

A girl rushed up and pulled you into a hug, dislodging your hand from his as he watched you spin with the girl, both of you laughing. A few others came up and hugs were passed out, hellos exchanged.

“Son of a bitch, you never said he was hot, Y/n,” The first friend who greeted—Rebecca— raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, because that’s all I look for in a guy,” You rolled your eyes, offering him a beer and taking a seat on the tailgate of your pickup.

“I’m just glad to see that you haven’t gone full brit on us,” Another—Megan smiled from the arms of a guy that Draco would have stereo typed to be on your arm instead. “Still think you can outshoot me?” She grinned.

“With my eyes closed,” You drawled, taking a sip of your own hard iced tea. “Seriously, y’all think I was just gonna forget everythin’?”

“We didn’t think you’d come back after find Mr. London over here,” Rebecca grinned.

“Yeah, you’ve been awful quiet over there Union Jack,” Megan narrowed her eyes at him, and he felt the same sort of anxiety he had around your parents. “What are your intentions with our Y/n?”

“Y’all really? What are we? High schoolers? And he has a name ya know.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against him, intertwining your finger with his. That eased his anxiety a bit as his eyes stayed trained on the dancing fire.

“Well, any guy worthy of catching your eye must be something special,” Tyler—the guy sitting next to Rebecca—shrugged.

“Oh, come on Tyler, we were freshman,” You scoffed, taking another swig from your can.

Draco’s interest was piqued at this new information. Was there something between you and Tyler that he wasn’t aware of? Was it something he had to worry about? His grip tightened around you and he caught the sly smile on your face at the action.

He learned a lot about you that night. You never were one to brag but stars did your friends like to embarrass you. You weren’t the top of your class, but you were pretty damn close. You always got yourself out of any kind of trouble and had about every boy at your heels in school and didn’t give them an air of interest—Tyler lamented quite obnoxiously. You could be out late Saturday night at a party, but every morning you were up early, in the choir at church—which shocked Draco, you had always been hesitant to sing around him, and he wasn’t exactly sure what ‘church’ was but... it was a question for another time.

The conversation lulled as food was brought out. You offered him a bit of mangled stretched out wire and a hot dog and shot him a dazzling smile before showing him how to roast it over the fire. It was messy and uncivilized, and Merlin, Draco loved it. Sitting cross-legged beside you, a paper plate in his lap filled with such rich food and sweet fruit, he truly caught a glimpse into your world again.

The buzz of insects and glow of others, the heat and warmth of the fire, the smell of grass and dirt, the sound of some country song blasting from a nearby truck, the sway of your body as you hummed along, the smile that rested on your face, the buzz of alcohol in his system, and the taste of it on your lips, Draco never felt more... free. The Dark Mark could be nothing more than a tattoo. His scars could mimic Alex’s dirt biking scars. His school career could be scoffed at like yours was. His parents could just be strict and rich. He could be free.

_____________________________

My thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of Draco’s hand as the night wound down. I had switched to sweet tea a while ago, knowing I’d had to drive home. There was something oddly comforting in seeing Draco in the midst of my small-town world. His careful blue eyes, stark blond hair, and pale creamy skin seemed to rebel at the mere thought, but the smile on his lips overrode it all, claiming he belonged.

In bed that night, my fingers traced over the scars that littered his chest. It was hard to imagine that the Harry I knew caused them. It seemed like worlds away. Even in Draco’s arms, London and magic and wizards sounded like a fairytale, some far-fetched dream.

“Your friends are... nice,” Draco murmured, drawing a chuckle from me.

“That’s one way to put it,” I propped up on my elbow. “Nothing too absurd I hope?” There was a slight teasing tone to my words.

He smiled lazily at me.

“It’s... different here,” Draco decided.

“Good different? Or bad different?”

“Free different.” He mused. “Like... it—my past... doesn’t exist at all. No one here knows, or judges me...”

“Well,” I whispered softly, running my hand through his hair. “It is a different world. Somethin’ you have to love about a small town,” A smile grew on my face. “And it’s not about your past, not anymore. It’s your future that’s important,”

“As long as you’re there,” Draco pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“For as long as you’ll have me,”

“Forever,”

I spent the next day teaching Draco how to bake. He was a decent cook after spending some time with my grandmother and I in London, but backing was a bit different, as Draco found out. With classic rock on the radio and mom and dad out for the day, Draco and I had a blast. A few times I saw him cheat and use wandless magic. It earned him some flour in his face—which he also magicked away. When I protested, he pressed a kiss to my lips and maybe I forgot why I was upset in the first place.

With the pie in the oven, Draco and I lounged across the couch. His hands were fiddling with my hair absentmindedly, as we watched The Breakfast Club. Hermione and Harry had done an alright job introducing Draco to muggle movies and shows. But as much as I loved Doctor Who—we were all convinced that the Doctor was a wizard secretly—or Sherlock, some American normalcy was appreciated.

That night I couldn’t help but laugh as Draco was very confused about football. It was like translating something through three languages—Wizard, to British, to American. After a while I think he gave up on the notion and just nursed his beer. The game held my interest for the second half while my father was very adamant about coaching from his armchair.

“You should have seen him at her little league games,” My mother muttered, causing Draco and I to chuckle and my dad to simmer some.

“Softball,” I filled Draco in. “Like baseball... but for girls I guess.” He nodded.

Before I knew it, the week ended, and Draco and I were packing to return back home, well to London anyway. I traded in my sundresses for jeans and sighed as I unzipped my suitcase, starting to unpack.

“It’s not like we’ll never go back,” Draco wrapped me up in his arms.

“We?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Did you not want me to go back?” A playful smile graced his lips.

“No, I do! I just... well, I know you Dray,” I draped my arms around his neck. “You like things a certain way in a certain order, and well, that,” I gestured vaguely. “was anything but,”

“Maybe it’s time I leave this behind me,” He murmured softly. “Stuffy offices and grey skies...”

My eyes widened in surprise and joy.

“Not completely,” He amended. “I do still have to work, they need me as Head Healer, and you have uni, and then there’s Teddy to think about, but... maybe a summer home there wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,”

I drew him into a tight hug, tears stinging my eyes. It wasn’t even that he wanted to go back, it was that he wanted me with him when he did. He talked about a home like I’d be there beside him.

And when he was down on one knee, surrounded by my London family, with a simple ring, I knew that he did want me there beside him, and always would.

I gave him an escape from his past and he promised me a future.

.

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[monochromatic-ahhhh]

i like how in the previous part i said "i wanna see how far i can go" then i proceed to just....not go HSHSHSHHS this is fun tho i have to admit

See i | See ii

"You...you don't remember anything, do you?"

Okay.

What the heck is she dreaming right now?

"No. No no no, I-I thought you would be immune-"

He's still talking, but she isn't paying attention anymore. Is this seriously that kind of scenario? 'She lost her memories, oh will she ever regain them', why on earth would she dream that?

Suddenly, she felt literal weight on her shoulders. The teenager boy's hands brought her to be all ears.

"-ody, listen to me. Trust me, okay?"

Their eyes met. His was brown in color, but dark enough to be considered black. It feels weird that she was paying attention to that.

"This is not a dream. I swear. This is not a dream."

Ah.

She looked to the side. Sure. She'll totally believe that.

The boy retreated his arms and crossed them.

"Mel, don't you dare not believe that," he said in a scolding tone.

Alright, then. Hold on, Mel? Is that her name?

"Yes, that's your name."

He nodded as he replied. Okay, cool.

...

Wait a second.

She abruptly turned right to where the boy was sitting, shocked at his response.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!"

He held up his hands, signalling surrender.

"I'm not a mind reader, okay? Calm down. I just figured you didn't know what your name was, and I've been calling you Mel for a while now. So, yeeaaahhh."

Admittedly, that was a big part of why she was shocked. But what she wanted to address was the name. That's not her name. Despite staying silent under the presence of this stranger, which is what seemed like common sense, she opted for him to know.

"Actually, it's-", she paused.

........

Haha oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-

She can't remember what her name is. All right! So she does have amnesia, and this isn't a dream after all?

"What is it?"

The other person seemed to have noticed her stressful thinking. Weirdly enough, this guy seems nice, friendly and.....familiar.

Why does he look familiar?

Maybe she should just go along with it. If this is a dream, she'll wake up soon enough. If it isn't, she just had to make sure she can trust this young man.

"I was just wondering," she started to say, which immediately urged her need of food and water, "if it's not too much to ask, can you prove that I can trust you?"

She then proceeded to mentally slap herself, because why the heck did she ask for her freaking security so politely as if she'll take no for an answer.

She forgot this person, so he could either be a friend or a foe. He stayed at her bedside and didn't look like he slept at all. When she first saw him, he looked like he was just crying. So maybe they're close enough for him to be this deeply concerned. This boy also feels familiar. That alone is enough to conclude that she definitely stumbled upon this person before. But can she trust her gut feeling that screams 'He's very trustworthy'?

She should've slept it off. This much thinking is tiring her out. But as much as she wanted to completely disintegrate from exhaustion, she had to wait for his reply.

The maybe-not-a-stranger looked like he was thinking, but he definitely knows what to say. Maybe there's so much to say that he doesn't know what to state first?

"You," he finally said, "..you think bracelets and necklaces give you bad luck so we got matching earrings, instead."

That was such a ridiculous piece of information she cannot recall, but somehow she knew he was right.

He parted the ash-brown hair covering his ears to reveal small silver earrings shaped like puzzle pieces. Small silver earrings that she recognized. A pair of puzzle pieces she knew would connect with another.

The other pair they'd join with would be rose-gold.

She reached for her ears feeling for whatever decorated them. She couldn't see what they look like, but they felt like small squares. Puzzle pieces. Her earrings.

Her face must have failed to contain how awestruck she is because the person beside her, who witnessed the whole thing going down, tried holding in his chuckles. He then asked a question as if he knew how she would react to it.

"Do you wanna try and piece them together?"

HECK YEAH, SHE DOES!

Instead of stating coherent words as a response, she looked at him excitedly. Her realizing what had to be done caused her to behave.

"I can't take my earrings off without a mirror though," she stated, sounding more downhearted than she intended.

"I can take them off for you," he volunteered, "o-only if it's fine with you, of course."

He turned away at that last bit. Strange. He looks kind of pink, now.

"I'd actually like to go home first."

...is what she should say.

She should go back to her family because....well, because. That doesn't really need justification, does it?

But eventually, the words that came out of her were, "I'd actually like to go see outside first," as if it would be a place she could never recognize.

"Ah, of course! Don't worry, we'll move to a...more suitable and comfortable place soon," he said as he guiltily scanned the room like a butler who failed to provide the needs of the long-lost princess. "I'll just check if it's safe to go out yet-"

Dings and annoying vibrations in his pocket interrupted him.

He hastily took his phone out to check whatever caused it to make such a fuss. From the extreme and ironically careful scrolling the boy is doing, she assumed he was reading an abundant number of messages sent to him at the same time. Or maybe he didn't read all of them because he returned the phone to his pocket with a gentle smile on his face, perhaps satisfied with atleast one of the texts he received?

Considering his smile as the sign, she got off the bed and fixed up her hair with the gray hairtie she had on her wrist. The other person in the room seemed to be surprised.

"Something wrong?"

He smiled softly. "It's nothing, really."

There's definitely something. But before she could say anything, he went for the doorknob and frantically gave an explanation she never expected.

"Okay. So this might be crazy, but don't freak out. There's definitely a lot of things that won't make any sense and beyond reality but I promise I'll explain everything."

Well, that's comforting.

He took the lead and turned the knob. "You ready?" he asked nervously.

She shrugged. How bad can it be?

Apparently, she could never even imagine how bad it is because as the door opened to unveil what kind of view it was blocking from her sight, she threw away every hope of maintaining her sanity.

She has henceforth concluded that she has lost it.

[auroracalisto]

Unanticipated

ALSO POSTED HERE

Summary: The reader is an English teacher at Karasuno, who lived in the United States for much of her life. Never did she think she would meet her soulmate; at the age of twenty-four, she had yet to find them. Yet, one day, after a day of teaching, her friend Takeda asked her if she would come to the boy's volleyball club meeting. She did. To her surprise, she remembered how much she loved volleyball and actually found her soulmate in that very gym.

Notes: This is written in third person.  The reader is also female.  If something is in italics, assume that it's in "English" instead of Japanese. If that makes sense.  This is a soulmate AU.  Handprint one.  Like, where you’re first touched by your soulmate, there is a print there.

[Your name] stood in front of her desk, smiling over at the students who sat in her class.  Every once in a while, she allowed them to ask whatever questions they wanted.  Of course, that consisted of broken English questions and students stumbling over their words.  

Tanaka was the first to ask a question.  "Why, uh, why did you decide Japan?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.  

She smiled and answered them, speaking slowly so they could grasp the information.  "I have family here.  I got a job and then came to get my second degree and teach you all."

Scanning the hands that were raised, she smiled and chose Sato, who sat close to the front.  

Sato gave a pleased smile; she was one of the smartest in the class, not that she would be bragging about it.  "How long did you live in the United States for?"

"Are you asking how old I am?" [Your name] laughed, smiling softly.  "I'm twenty-four.  But I lived in the United States for twenty years.  I was born in Japan."

Most of the students asked interesting questions, while some asked questions that made [Your name] question her sanity.  But, before she knew it, the end of the day was upon them.  Her friend, Takeda, who was also a teacher, had asked her to come to watch the volleyball club (he had told her it's because he wanted some help, but she figured it was because he hadn't a clue what was going on).  She played throughout middle school, high school, and even college.  Takeda would know.  She studied abroad at the same college Takeda went to and one day accidentally slammed a volleyball to the back of his head.  Purely accidental, but it started their friendship.  Takeda helped her to get the position at Karasuno; she was most definitely grateful.  

As [Your name] packed her papers into her back, the dark-haired male popped his head through the door and smiled.  "[Your name]!  Did you decide to come?"

[Your name] smiled and let out a soft giggle.  "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," she said, pulling on her jacket and then slung her bag over her shoulder.  "Let's go," she said.  

[]

The sound of boys shouting and volleyballs banging off the floor caused a smile to grow on the young English teacher's lips.  

"Now, I forgot to mention, I was able to convince a friend of mine to be the club's coach-"

[Your name] looked at him, raising an eyebrow.  "I'm sorry?" she giggled softly.  "What happened to you needing my help?"

Takeda flushed red.  "Well, we could still use your h-"

"I'm joking," she grinned.  "Thank you for letting me know.  Who is it?"

"His name is Ukai."

"Oh, so like-"

"No, he's the grandson."

[Your name] smiled and nodded, looking over to see Tanaka, who bowed his head in respect before he went back to practicing.  She smiled; she knew how "rough" he was, but she had never given him a reason to be any other way towards her.  

"Guys," Takeda called out, waving slightly towards the boys.  They stopped what they were doing to pay attention.  "This is sensei [Last name]," he said. "She'll be helping out some as long as you'll let her."

"No way!" Tanaka quickly exclaimed, grinning.  "You played volleyball?"

[Your name] tucked a piece of hair behind her ears, smiling.  Her shirt pulled down slightly to reveal the black mark that stained her wrist.  She saw Tanaka's eyes look towards it, but she said nothing about it.  "I did."

[]

When Ukai had come into the gym, [Your name] felt her heart skip a beat.  She told herself that it was just anxiety.  What else could it be?  She had never seen the man in her life.  He didn't say much to her.  He greeted her and introduced himself before he got straight to work.  

That's when she noticed a member with the cutest freckles trying a float serve.  She smiled; that was her specialty.  He was having some trouble.  Sitting her bag down, she looked towards Takeda.  She noticed he wasn't paying attention, so she went over to the teen.  

"Excuse me?" she smiled, seeing him flinch up.  

He quickly turned and seen the woman and he bowed out of respect.  

"No need for that," she immediately said, smiling softly.  "You know how to float serve?"

"Um," he held the ball against his hip and scratched the back of his neck.  "I'm learning."

"What's your name?"

He tilted his head.  "Yamaguchi."

"Well, Yamaguchi, I can teach you if you'd like me to."

"Yeah?" scoffed a voice off to the side.  She looked over to see a tall blonde with black glasses resting on top of his nose.  "You know how to serve?"

[Your name] rose an eyebrow in response and held out her hand for the ball Yamaguchi had.  He handed it to her and she quickly got into a position to serve the ball.  "Watch this, blondie," she said, shooting him a look, but she was still smiling.  "Yamaguchi, pay attention to my form, okay?"  When he nodded, she tossed the ball in the air and lead off into a jump.  Her hand came into contact with the ball and when she came back down after serving the ball, she looked towards Yamaguchi.  "It's all about practice," she grinned.  

The ball was unexpected on the other side of the gym, but Hinata became excited when he saw it.  He received the ball and sent it back over, seeing the sensei standing there with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima prepare to catch the ball so she could return it to Yamaguchi.  

[]

It was dark before too long.  

Takeda had already taken his leave after helping pick up some, babbling on about how he needed to get home.  [Your name] stayed behind to help clean up, wanting to be able to talk to Ukai about helping the team more than she had.  

"Excuse me-"

She stopped herself when Ukai looked over, raising an eyebrow.  "Yeah?"

She gave a soft smile.  "I know my being here was probably unannounced, but I was wondering if it'd be possible if I could help out more?  I forgot how much I loved volleyball," she said, looking out towards the court with a longing gaze.  

The man stood up straight, a chuckle escaping him.  "You're prepared to spend every day with a bunch of hormonal teenagers?"

"Did you forget I'm a teacher?" she grinned, looking back at him.  

"Fair enough," he said.  "Yeah, if that's what you want.  Just message Takeda.  He can give you the schedule."

"Alright," she nodded, picking up her bag once more, preparing to leave.  "I will.  If I can do anything, and I mean anything, do let me know-"

She turned around to leave, thinking their conversation was done, but her wrist was suddenly grabbed and a momentarily searing pain ran through her arm.  Her eyes widened and she quickly turned around to look at the man, taking ahold of his hand in the process.  He felt the same pain run through his arm.  The two of them said nothing for a solid minute.  

Parting her lips to speak, she just stared.  This morning when she woke, she didn't expect herself to find her soulmate.  But here he was, standing in front of her and holding onto her hand.  

The man stared her down in return, releasing a shaky breath before he finally spoke.  "Keishin," he said.  

A smile spread across the woman's face.  "[Your name]."    

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XLIII: Demetrioi

I

Great. She just ran off and left me to deal with some unexplained mess.

“Wait!” I called out. “Don’t leave me with her!” My voice carried out into an echo and as I stared into the darkened tunnel, hearing her footsteps growing fainter, I knew that it was too late. I was stuck. Stuck with this person on the floor who by all sense of logic, shouldn’t even be alive, let alone speaking.

Oh, but since when has logic played a factor in any of this? Hmm…

Really, though, to think we went through such a battle, which was already a great deal of bullshit and now...this? Hell, first of all, I didn’t even have to come back to help her out, and to think she just runs off? That’s the thanks I get?

“Juniper? Are you still there?” Came the faint, hoarse, but actually kind of cute voice of what was presumed to be Rhea. The OG.

Wait. Does she think I’m Juniper? Do I really sound anything like her?

“Uh. Hi? Wakey wakey?” I replied. Nervous, I waved, before realizing that since her eyes were closed, waving did me no good.

“Who was that just now?” She then asked.

“Uh…” You, but not. But I can’t just say that, can I?

“Ves?”

Oh, come on, do you really think…? No, never mind. I’m going to stop questioning things or so help me…

“Oh. Yeah. That was Ves,” I decided to just go with it. Why not? “It was too painful for her to stick around. You know how she is.”

I dragged my feet in place. When I returned to the diner, there were several things I prepared myself for. I trained and everything. I put myself in a fucking nun outfit. But this...I was not prepared for.

“I see.”

There was a second of silence. I was ready to let out a sigh of relief and declare that she had passed on, that it was just a brief moment of weirdness, but then –

“Juniper?”

“Yeah?” I replied, then gulped.

“Can you come closer?”

This is a trap, isn’t it? I shook my head. Maybe, but I’m ready for a fight.

“OK, but you better not start sprouting tentacles,” I warned her as I walked up to her. Each footstep felt like a cinder block was attached to my ankles.

“Why would I…?” She asked.

Either they’re more dedicated to their role than before or...no, I’ll play along.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” I sighed as I dropped to the floor beside her head.

“Who did you expect? Squid girl?” Her confusion was pronounced, even with the dry and hazy air to her voice. As harsh as she may have been in life, there was a softness to the tone of her voice that I couldn’t deny. It was enough to make me question that this was the same killer I had heard so much about.

“No. Uh. Never mind. It’s just...haa...what a day, am I right?” Yeah. I was at a loss for words. Could anyone blame me? What was one to say to a dying (and already been dead, for, what? Three years) person that they barely knew and only heard about from others?

“I’m sorry about that,” she frowned, and Remora’s voice returned to the front of my mind: “Comfort her!”

Why should I? I spent over a year trying to get over you and now you expect me to try to care for someone when you don’t even care about me in the first place?

“Don’t be,” I did my best to say something, anything, to comfort her. As much as I had my issues with this whole...situation, it still felt wrong to leave her alone. Trying to think of something comforting, I offered, “Is there anything I can do to help you rest?”

“I think...if I can lay my head on your lap…”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Fine,” I sighed, then smiled, trying to make my voice sound as soothing as possible and not like a fizzled out balloon, “I suppose I can do that much.”

I scooted over and reached my hands down, but they felt about ready to fall off with all the heavy vibrations they were doing. Hell, my own pulse felt louder than anything else in the room.

I’ve never even done something like this before and now I’m...I agreed to this…

“Okay…” my voice was just as shaky as well. “Up you go,” I sat crisscross and placed my hands on each side of her face, then lifted her head onto my lap.

“Ha. There we go,” I wiped my forehead. I didn’t break a sweat, but it sure felt like I did. When I looked down at her short, blue hair, which looked fine and silky, almost like I could glide my hand through and each hair would float on by. It was amazing how unchanged she appeared despite the last time she drew her final breath. My eyes scanned down and noticed her thick, coarse dark brown eyebrows, and even that was beautiful with how pronounced it was. Despite some small scrapes and scratches on her face, her hazelnut skin looked just as smooth as it must have always been. Her eyes remained closed, and her breaths were faint, but when I saw her lips…

They had spread to a smile. It startled me at first, caught me off-guard.

“I must be the luckiest girl in the world right now,” she beamed, “getting a lap pillow from Juniper.”

I covered my mouth with the back of my hand.

“It’s nothing. Really,” I replied, my voice muffled by my sleeve.

“But it’s not nothing...it’s not…” her voice lowered at those final two words, like she was fading away.

“Well, I’m glad that I can do something to help,” I conceded. Her smile soon faded as well, back to that usual neutral expression that I would have expected from her.

What? Did I say something wrong?

“I don’t know how much longer...I thought I would have been gone by now…”

Oh. That’s what it is. Yeah. You’re not the only one who thought that.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

I wonder how Sunny and the others are doing. I wonder what they would think if they saw what I was up to right now. I wonder what Remora would think. She’d probably say something like, “this is the most action you’re ever going to get” and then I’d say, “hey, this was your idea!”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rhea spoke up again, “I’m...sorry…” she let out a soft cough, and her voice sounded pained, but she went on, “I’m sorry I said that your kindness was a weakness. It’s not. It’s a strength. Even if you may be naive sometimes, I’m...really glad to have met someone...as kind as you. Even to someone like me.”

Was Juniper really nice to her? Oh, dear...I guess that does sound like her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m a pretty forgiving person,” I replied.

“To be honest, I think I got a bit of a crush on you…”

Why are you telling me this?

“...But I know you and Ves are already good for each other.”

“Glad you think so.”

“Hey Juniper?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Seriously?

“Uh. Yeah. With my wife. Who I’m married to.”

“Oh. Right. Well, it was worth a try.”

It really wasn’t, but OK.

“How are you feeling?” I changed the topic for the sake of my sanity, and possibly hers as well.

She scrunched her face and pursed her lips.

What? Was that a bad question? Gosh, I’m sorry.

“Hm. Warm?”

“Really? It’s kinda chilly for me,” I remarked. For real, why didn’t the heaters work down here? Why was there such a draft?

“Oh no. Am I contagious?” She asked with a concerning level of sincerity.

“No, it’s, uh...just the wind.”

“That’s a relief,” she smiled and let out a serene whisper. Jeez, who knew her voice could be so pretty?

There was a pause, a stillness, yet not all was still. There was a sort of sensation at the back of my mind, like I was letting go of something, or something was being released from me and making me lighter. It stung, like a dagger being pulled out, but also felt relieving. But before I be put at ease, I noticed tears start to well up in those closed eyes.

“No, no. What’s wrong? You’re warm, aren’t you? Isn’t that what you want?” I scrambled to try to figure out something to say, but I had nothing.

“I...I messed up, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew how important this job was, that Ves’ existence threatened the world, but the more I got to know her, the harder it was for me to do it.”

“But you still fought anyway. Why?”

“I don’t know why I do the things I do sometimes,” she answered. It wasn’t good enough for me, however. For whatever reason, I couldn’t accept that.

“But that’s not true in this case, is it?” I urged. Urged for some kind of answer. There had to be one.

“I needed to. It was her or the world. But the more I talked to her, the more I related with her, and it got to the point where I just couldn’t take it anymore. Who I am, the kinds of things I’ve done...”

Whatever relief I might have had disintegrated and in its place was a cyanide-laced pit in my stomach. Yet she had more to say.

“...others would have come after me if I left. There was a legitimate threat posed by her continued existence. Yet I just couldn’t do it. So I tried to provoke her, get her to fight me, make it look like I was still serious...because I should have been...but I just wanted to be free even though I knew it would cost the world.”

“Y...you can rest easy,” my voice shook as I told her, “the world’s still here. I’m still here. Ves may have left, but she’ll return and she’ll be healed by then. She’s smarter than you might think. She’s just sensitive.”

“I’m glad, then,” she turned her head.

“I wish you and her didn’t fight, though. I care about both of you,” I added. It really seemed like something Juniper would have said.

“I know...and I really do wish I could have been friends with you guys. You seem like a great person.”

“I’m not as good as you think I am,” I corrected her.

“Maybe not, but I don’t think you’d want to know me. I’ve done some bad things…”

You don’t say.

“You might be right. But I can’t say for sure unless I knew you better.”

“I’m sorry I threatened to harm you and your wife,” she deflected.

“It’s okay. We’re still here.”

“But at least you won’t have to deal with me anymore. I won’t cause you any more pain…” She mumbled, like those really were going to be her last words. Such bull. Really? Some kind of guilt trip? Did she have any idea? Any at all?

“You fucking IDIOT!” I shouted down and my fists shook. I found myself on the verge of tears. “Do you...do you think this absolves you of the pain you caused? Any of it?” I sniffed, tried to hold back my emotions, even as I knew what a futile effort that was.

“Maybe not, but there’s nothing to be done. It’s too late,” she smiled, nuzzled against my leg.

Screw comfort. Screw everything.

“I...I shouldn’t be emotional over you! I hardly know you!” I shouted and shut my eyes, defiant, but the tears still came. It was hard to tell if she was still breathing or not, and I began to feel numb all over. Numb, yet overfilled with emotion. There was a ringing in ear, yet I heard a pronounced gasp from her.

“If anyone has the right to be upset, it should be you, Juniper,” she spoke, as if to reassure me. Me. No. Not me. Who she thought I was.

I don’t want to be Juniper anymore. I don’t want to be you, or Sister Cecilia, or anyone else. I just want to be me.

“I didn’t even cry at my grandmother’s funeral! I never even knew my father because he died before I was born! So why you? Why?”

I opened my eyes, held my hands in front of my face. They were all wet.

“I’m sorry,” I heaved out the words.

Again, I didn’t know if she was still breathing or not or if she had passed on. I looked over and saw a matchstick on the floor next to where I sat.

Please go. So that I can go back to being me. Please.

However, my pleas went unanswered. She turned her head, back to facing forward.

“Juniper, can I make a selfish request?” She asked.

“Yes,” I answered, as loathe as I was to do so.

“Can I lay my hand on your cheek?”

I tried to force a smile.

“Yes, but nothing more, OK?” I softened my voice.

Her free arm raised, the one that wasn’t held over her stomach (thank goodness. I didn’t want blood on my face) and I closed my eyes, not ready for whatever sensation might have come. When I felt that palm, those fingers, my breathing grew heavier. Her hand was far warmer than it had any right to be. She stroked my cheek and I shivered about, then, she set her hand back down, lowered her arm back to her side.

That also felt better than it had any right to. Not to mention the fact that it wasn’t meant for me in the first place. God, all of this is so wrong.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Juniper, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I wasn’t meant to wake up, was I?”

So she figured it out. Well, she may as well know.

“No. You weren’t,” I answered, and even with a smile and tinge of softness, it still felt rough to say.

“I thought so. Can I ask you something else?”

Let me guess: “Why am I not dead?”

“You’re not really Juniper, are you?”

I was startled and my heart began to thump in place.

“I...well...you see…”

She opened her eyes wide and stared into mine, then scowled.

“I shrunk in the wash?” I scrambled for an explanation. However, it didn’t even seem to register so much as a chuckle from her (everyone’s a critic) and I watched as she lifted her head up, then struggled to lift herself up.

“Ooh, ow, ow, ow,” she winced and hissed as she sat up.

“You’re in pain!” I gasped. She just turned and glared at me.

“And you’re not Juniper,” her disappointment was chalked into every syllable.

She stood up, much to my protests, and began to look around.

“What is this place...a brewery…?” She muttered.

“You should lay back down!” I urged her, despite knowing she wouldn’t listen to me, “do you really want your final moments to be painful?”

“How I spend my final moments is between me, myself, and I,” she dismissed me, not even turning to look my way.

“Come on! I was told to comfort you!”

“And who told you to do that? Huh?”

Oh crap. I can’t actually say.

“You wouldn’t believe me…” I lowered my head.

“I already don’t believe you. You used me, made me think you were Juniper. Who are you, really?” That time, she turned to me, still with a disgusted look on her face.

“I’m Juniper’s cousin!” I explained.

“Oh, sure. And I’m the Queen of France,” she scoffed, then walked away toward the back of the room, toward where the ladder against the wall was. That same ladder that led up to the diner.

“Well, are you?” I leaned in and asked.

“I could be...if I wanted to. That was sarcasm, by the way,” she replied, still walking.

“You don’t say,” I shot back, deadpan.

“Yes. I do say. I just said so. Just now, in fact.”

“That was sarcasm too, you dummy!”

“Don’t be mean to me. I just woke up.”

I can’t believe this. How is this supposedly merciless killer so ridiculous?

“Now let’s see...what is this place? Why am I here? What am I doing awake? Is this the afterlife? Why is there some green troll doll pretending to be Juniper?” She muttered to herself as she continued to look around.

Hey I resent that last remark.

“For your information, it wasn’t my idea to pretend to be Juniper,” I argued.

“I don’t care. I don’t even know who you are. Why would you pretend to be someone else at all?”

What is with you two and the whole ‘I don’t care’ thing?

“I don’t know,” I admitted, “it just sorta happened.”

“Well stop.”

She limped on over toward the ladder, now just a couple more paces away.

“Rhea...you’re bleeding,” I pointed out. I hoped that such awareness would bring her to her senses, get her away from there.

“You know how it is with spaghetti…” She grunted.

...What?

Now, against the wall, with one hand on one of the wooden planks of the ladder, I knew any more convincing would be useless.

“Tell me,” she turned to me, “if I go up here, will I be in heaven?”

I smiled and shook my head.

“More like hell,” I joked, “but I’ve come to think of it as home.”

She just shrugged.

“I’ll take it.”

Before she readied her arms up to climb, I spoke up once again:

“Rhea. It was nice to meet you,” I wiped away a loose tear. Let’s hope that was the last one.

“I’d say the same, but I don’t actually know you,” she just replied.

“Demetria,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she squinted, “I’m not gonna remember that.”

Then I watched as she climbed up. Through the pain, through the blood that dripped down, somehow she managed. All the while, I just sat and felt powerless to stop her.

“I hope this time you have an undisturbed rest,” I remarked. That time, she didn’t answer. I didn’t mind. She lifted the hatch, shook a bit, and for a moment, I thought she would fall off, but she clung onto the floor of the diner, then shimmied her way up. “Goodbye, Rhea.”

II

There was a moment which seemed to go on for an eternity where I just continued to sit there in disbelief. All of that, that whole conversation, her getting up, being alive, even for a short while at all...that really happened? Then, the realization dawned on me: I had let her get away. What would the residents of the diner think? They were gonna freak out, weren’t they? Ugh.

I got up and clasped the sides of my head with both hands.

“What am I supposed to do now?! ‘Hey guys, no biggie, but we got a case of the walking dead!’” I paced about in frustration.

I shook my head. Worrying myself over such things was pointless. She wasn’t going to last, and besides, as much as that was a small distraction, that’s all it was: a distraction. I still had to head back with the group. We had a whole final boss to deal with. Our journey was far from over.

“OK,” I let out a deep breath, “time to get a move on.”

Through the entrance to the tunnel, I ran, while keeping my motions and pace steady. Not far in, I saw her: Remora. The one that I knew. She sat up against one of the stony walls of the tunnel, her head hung low and leaned against her own shoulder.

I’ve still got lots of mixed feelings, but…

I snapped my fingers in rapid succession.

Remora jolted up, then looked around, wide-eyed.

“S-Sorry! I must have passed out. That fight exhausted me,” she explained in a stammer.

“Can’t say I blame you, but we gotta get to the others.”

She nodded, then stood up.

“Is she gone? Did she pass on?” She asked, an odd sense of nervousness in her voice.

“Yeah. She uh, went upstairs, so to speak.”

“What?!”

“Not literally...you know, like her spirit ascended,” I tried to explain.

Even though, yes. Literally.

“Oh. Phew. Thank goodness. I was worried for a second there.”

“What for?” I paused, surprised.

“Because if she were to live, then what would happen to me?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, dry and without confidence.

“I’m scared,” she admitted and looked down to her side. After one glance at me, “it’s said that if two versions of the same person cannot exist in the same timeline. It’s rare, so rare that such a rule would seem unnecessary, but it’s said that if someone entered another timeline when a version of them already exists, then one of the versions would die to keep it at just one.”

I wonder if that what his plan, then. It never occurred to me that he would have such a power, but if that’s true, then it would be an easy way to get rid of Remora. Of course he would use some dirty trick like that. The fog, everything else, it’s all been one cowardly trick after another.

“Like I said, I don’t know,” I repeated. I shuffled my feet and tried to search for some form of assurance, and all I could come up with was my mission at hand. “I can’t say what the future holds for any of us, but I swear I’ll do all in my power to put a stop to this. Now, can you run?”

She nodded, her face relaxed into the neutral, stoic form which I knew from her.

“Good. Let’s meet back up with the others.”

We ran at a pace steady enough that she was able to turn to me and make conversation. Something I really didn’t want to do, especially what with how things ended up when I was last at the diner, before all of this shit with the fog went down.

“So, what’s the plan now, Sister Cecilia?” She teased.

“Hey!” I snapped. “At least nobody figured out it was me, Captain Acab!”

“You could tell it was me?” She pointed to herself all while keeping pace with me.

“Duh. I can spot your shivering from a mile away.”

“Y-you can?” She stammered and started to slow down.

“Maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but even if you hadn’t been shivering up a storm, your voice gives you away. That’s why I had the whole ‘vow of silence’ thing going on,” I explained. “As for the plan, I’m pretty sure I know what, or rather who, is behind all of this. I’ve dealt with him before.”

“Him?! You mean a man was inside her? Disgusting.”

I skidded to a stop and spat out.

“Why would you phrase it that way?! Do you have any idea how that sounds?! That’s so...so insensitive!”

I stifled back laughter and snickered, but it didn’t help; soon it forced its way out all on its own.

“Ah ha ha! But that’s just like you to say something like that,” I remarked, still unable to help myself but laugh.

“I don’t know what I said that was funny, but I’ll take that as a win,” she replied. Yeah. I guess she would be clueless to something like that, and maybe I was just reading too much into things.

“It’s...never mind.”

“But yes, I fought someone who might be the same guy,” she disclosed, “he said he was inhabiting a spare corpse. Apparently that guy we fought in the cave, Buddy Fairweather, if that even was his original name, was also the same guy. To think he would go as far as using the body of my other self…”

“Yes,” I agreed, “to use one of your words, it’s disgusting.”

As if there weren’t other things beside that which could be called ‘disgusting’. Like how ‘he’, or whoever it was in question, through some mystic power or whatever nonsense, made this fog and harmed, even took innocent lives. For what? To instill a sense of fear? Or to hide out and hope the fog would do all the work for him?

“That’s why we’ve got to regroup with the others and put a stop to this,” I declared, then took off once more.

She kept pace with me the whole time, something which I found annoying yet expected. I just tried to keep my focus forward, and not on her. It was bad enough that she had returned at all. Worse that if I had just stayed with the others, I could have delayed having to see her again.

“It’s good to see you,” she spoke up again.

“Wish I could say the same,” I replied, then realized how harsh that sounded, I turned to her, “for the record, I don’t dislike you...it’s just hard, considering…”

I didn’t want to think about it. Not when there were other things to worry about. Other things to get mad about.

“I think I get it. I’m glad to hear you don’t dislike me.”

For whatever reason, my face turned red.

“Yeah, well anyway, that’s not really important right now.”

It was a little further in when I saw a faint, orange glow in the distance. As we approached, the glow turned brighter, more pronounced, and the stone walls illuminated around us. Then, I saw them: Sunny, Ray, and Tigershark, all sat against the wall, with Sunny holding up the torch. Remora and I slowed down to a walk upon seeing them, and Tigershark was the first to look up. She beamed, then got up and ran over to Remora and hugged her.

“You’re back!” She cheered and clamped onto Remora’s right leg tight.

“Hey, little one,” Remora knelt down and hugged Tigershark right back with that same weary, raspy voice I heard from Rhea...something which I would have rather forgotten.

I looked around and saw piles of stone rubble just past Sunny. It must have been what was once those animated stone creatures. Sunny and Ray were bruised and scraped up, but they didn’t look too bad. Just exhausted. At least, I hoped it wasn’t too bad.

“It was scary! There was someone who looked like you, but then it turned out to be a monster!” Tigershark sobbed into Remora’s pant leg.

“I know. She’s gone now,” Remora tried to comfort Tigershark. Or maybe just comfort herself. Either way, it rubbed me the wrong way. Like an obfuscation.

“That thing,” I cut in and shook my head as I did so, “wasn’t Rhea. The reason why it looked like Remora was because Rhea was her twin sister, but she died a few years ago. That thing was just a disgrace to her image. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I didn’t know you had a twin sister!” Tigershark broke away from the hug and gasped, astonished.

“Yeah...about that…” Remora looked away, shot me a quick glare, then continued, “I don’t really like talking about my twin sister. We were never very close and for the longest time I’ve had mixed feelings about her, almost like we came from different worlds.”

How subtle.

“If she’s your sister...does that mean she’s mine too?” Tigershark pointed to herself.

“Look at you, collecting sisters left and right,” Sunny remarked.

“That’s right!” Tigershark grinned.

They continued their conversation, and I’m sure it was great for them all to reunite. Really, I should’ve been happier, but all I could do was look ahead. Somewhere, further ahead, was the one behind everything. No doubt, we’d be in for a fight, and with the battles we’ve already had to endure, our odds weren’t great.

But it has to be done all the same.

“What do you think, Ray?” I asked while continuing to look ahead.

“Hmm...it seems like Tigershark’s family grows bigger each day,” he mused.

“No, not that. What do you think about settling matters?”

“I’d love to. Now, whether or not I have any fight left in me...that’s another story.”

“And I’m sure you can tell that story another day. For now, I’m sure we can settle for having a nice little chat with our guest.”

“Ah, that,” he picked himself up, “may as well. We’re probably closer to our enemy by now than we are to the diner. Worst case scenario, even if we all die, at least we’ll have done so with the intention of setting things right.”

“Plus we’ll have done so as a family,” Sunny added.

“Yeah. No thanks. I’m determined to see us all live, whether we like it or not.”

When we all gathered close together, Sunny turned to Remora.

“You’re pretty badly injured!”

“Wounds heal,” Remora dismissed.

“Here, I’ve got some antiseptic ointment. Lemme apply it for you.”

“Um...n-no thanks,” Remora backed away, “you can just hand those to me. I’m still not comfortable being touched.”

Though I suppose hugging Tigershark is an exception.

“That said, I’m willing to let you touch me, Demetria,” Remora added, and upon hearing my name, I turned stiff and jumped in place. I had done all in my power not to be near her, in fact, I was at the very right end while she, Sunny, and Tigershark were on the left. But it was all for naught, as she had addressed me all the same.

“I’m not the one with the ointment here,” I looked away and grumbled.

We walked on, as none of us felt the need to run any longer. Besides, although I still had plenty of energy to do so, I imagined the others might not have. It was up in the air about a certain ‘R’ word how much energy she had left, but either way, after all the biding of time he’s forced us into, it was only fair that he too wait for us. Funny, though; I was impatient to be done with everything and there I was, content to walk with the rest of them. But it could have been because I had an aching, foreboding feeling, that we weren’t far.

Yes, each step forward carried that feeling. Part of me wondered if anyone else felt it, or if it was a link with the entity that only I shared. Silly that. Why would I be the one to share a link with them at all when I was so ordinary, so mortal?

Of course, I refuse to acknowledge this entity as anything other than a man.

Just a little further ahead, we came to a halt: before us was a fork in the tunnel: two paths. One which continued forward in a straight line, and the other a slight diversion off to the right side.

“What the – this wasn’t here before,” Ray gasped.

“OK, but be real, hun, how often do you come down here?” Sunny teased and nudged him.

I shook my head.

“It doesn’t matter. Our enemy can affect reality in slight ways like this. This should be par for the course by now.”

I cocked my head to the side, noticed a faint, purple glow which seemed to sparkle and glimmer. How obvious, I thought, then turned and walked in that direction.

“Come on,” I motioned for the others.

It felt a little strange to lead the way. I’ve never considered myself to be a leader for anything. If anyone ever had that role, it was one of the other adults: Sunny, Ray, Remora. Hell, I often found myself feeling inferior to them and how experienced they each were in comparison to the young and naive person I was. However much I’ve grown, if at all, I still didn’t consider myself above them, only more aware of the situation at hand.

Up ahead, the glow grew more pronounced. It was hard to say brighter, but others soon took notice of it, and then another shape took hold: a clearing, or rather, an end to our jouney.

“Look!” Tigershark pointed.

“It’s just like that camping trip,” Sunny reminisced. It wasn’t hard to imagine the similarities to our last battle with such a foe, within that cave where Remora was the one with the plan and our battle with “Buddy Fairweather” took place.

“I doubt it’s a coincidence,” I commented, offhand. My footsteps grew heavier the closer we all got. An equal measure of nervousness and eagerness. All that long ago, I failed to protect two siblings, twins who put their trust in me, just to be taken before my eyes. Now the question remained whether or not I could protect these people I’ve come to hold dear over time, or if even after everything, I still remained powerless?

No matter what happens, I will show him that I too am a force to be reckoned with. He is the reason I have all this anger stored up, and he will receive every ounce of it.

“Are you ready?” I turned to them and asked.

“No. But what other choice do we have?” Ray met my question with one of his own.

“You have choices. You can return to the diner, where you may be safer. I’ll stay to face this horror alone.”

“And let you risk your life? If things take a turn for the worst, I think it’s much better to die in the company of others than alone.”

Taken aback, my eyes widened and I had to make a conscious effort to narrow them.

“You underestimate –” I tried to say, but Remora interrupted me.

“You’re being stupid again,” she scolded, “do you really think you can say something like that after you came back to help me when I fought the one pretending to be my other self? Do you really think that the others wouldn’t do the same for you if you were to take on something like that alone?”

I scowled at first, but then relaxed my face and sighed.

“I guess...this is just as much your fight as it is mine…” I relented, but looked down as I did so.

“Not quite, kiddo,” Sunny chimed in, “it’s all of ours. We’ve all been affected by this in some way or another.”

“Very well,” I nodded, then declared, “I don’t think you need me to tell you guys this, but be prepared for anything.”

III

Our surrounding was filled with that same, dim purple glow, and as we stepped through, one detail became apparent: way off in the back of the large, circular room was a series of vines, tangled against themselves. I looked up to find darkness where I would have expected a ceiling. Although I knew it not to be the case, it gave off the impression that we were in a different realm altogether, one that was limitless. Maybe such an impression was intentional.

In the center of the sea of thorny vines, there was some sort of casing, like an egg or chrysalis, but made out of the vines that surrounded it. As if sensing our presence, the casing of vines opened up, and a familiar robed figure emerged with his hood up and that same faceless stone mask, held up by one hand. He stood, gaunt, and hunched, yet held an air of authority, almost as if bowing to us.

“At last you have arrived,” he spoke in a strange calm and polite manner. Despite the distance between us, a wide gap, his voice echoed our way. There was no sense of joviality, no humor, but instead, despite his calm demeanor, malice floated on the tip of each word.

“Are you done hiding behind the remains of others?” I skipped right past the greetings and cut through the chase.

“Ah. That,” he stood up, then removed the mask from his face and dropped it to the floor. What I expected was to see a mangled pile of worms all writhing around in place of where a face should have been. Instead, I was met with a face that was more or less normal: light brown, almost copper looking hair flowed down as his hood lowered. His skin, pale and thin to the point that the definitions of his cheek bones could be shown along his face, and if I had to wager, highlighted the rest of his skull as well. “That, unfortunately, has no easy answer.”

His eyes remained closed, and it was when he opened his mouth that I noticed how his mouth was unusually wide, to the point where I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was secretly some kind of hand puppet.

“You possess the bodies of the dead, do you not?” Remora shouted, demanding an answer. Upon hearing her speak, he opened his eyes just a crack and I noticed a red glow seep through. He clenched, then opened his fist several times before answering.

“Yes.”

“So you just use them as toys, props, tools to be used and nothing more?”

“I give them a purpose.”

“And how many of them consent to that purpose? What do you know of the dead?”

“I know all about the dead. After all, I myself am dead. You killed me.”

Thank you. That was all the confirmation I needed. Not that I ever had any doubts, I felt a little triumphant upon hearing him utter such words.

“What did you call yourself way back when? Cronus the Harvester? Or should I call you ‘Tarrare’?”

“You mean the baby eater?” Ray was dumbfounded by such a name.

“I never was a fan of that codename, but call me as you wish. I take it you remember me, then?” Cronus answered. Maybe that was the name I was most accustomed to, and as such, that was all I would ever think of them. He didn’t even warrant being called anything other than enemy, so he should be grateful I was referring to him at all.

“After what I went through, how could I forget?” I asked right back, rather rhetorical, at that. How could anyone have forgotten such an ordeal? The very notion that I could just erase such a thing was nothing less than insulting.

“So then you must know the purpose behind my actions?”

“I can wager a guess. Or at least what you use to justify yourself,” I had no doubt that in his own mind, his actions were sound, but all I heard was distorted white noise.

“And knowing this, will you still defend her?”

I shook my head.

“No. I’ll defend all of us.”

My response was met with a slight, stifled laughter. Shame, too. I was dead serious.

“Even after all this time?”

“I think I’ve told you before,” Remora interjected, “if it’s simple revenge that you want, you should have just gone after me. So why all those researchers? All those people that had nothing to do with me? Why?”

“Because I knew you were in the area. It didn’t matter what other lives were taken in the process, so long as there was the chance that you were swept up along with them.”

“So that includes Tigershark’s parents?” I demanded, my voice shook as I did so.

“What?!” Tigershark looked up at me.

“I really wish you hadn’t said that,” Remora turned to me as well.

“She deserves to know,” my gaze was fixed on Cronus, all the while.

“What are you talking about, Demetria?” Panic filled Tigershark’s voice.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not a very comforting person. That blizzard, the one that took your parents, almost took you, was no natural blizzard,” I explained, then pointed at Cronus, “WAS IT?”

“It was similar enough to hold the same effect. So in the end, what was the difference?” He smirked and there wasn’t a hint of remorse in his voice.

“Their deaths would have been tragic either way, but if it was nature, then it could have been chalked up to an unfortunate accident. That you conjured something like that up in your pursuit of someone else is more than a tragedy: it’s blatant cruelty, plain and simple.”

“Had I known that one would be rescued by the one you call ‘Remora’, I would have put in more effort to ensure such a thing didn’t happen.”

I growled. To think he would have slaughtered Tigershark, and for what? For the proposed crime of associating with Remora?

“I’m sure there were many families torn apart by his actions,” Remora stated.

My thoughts shifted to the Mel twins. Indeed.

“What does it matter to you? They were no one you knew.”

“That doesn’t matter! It’s because they had nothing to do with me that it matters. They mattered to somebody, even if they would never have mattered to me!”

Cronus grimaced, then his face shifted to a scowl. His long mouth seemed like it dragged the rest of his face down with it.

“You talk as if your past actions were any different. Did you ever stop to think about what kind of people you killed, or did you just kill them?”

“Even then, I only took out my targets, no one else.”

“You killed people?” Tigershark asked Remora.

“Yes,” Remora answered.

“Bad people?” Tigershark gulped.

“I think I was the bad guy, actually.”

Cronus laughed a hearty and spiteful laugh.

“Wonderful. Yes, little girl. You now get to learn that your so-called savior was a monster all along.”

“It takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” I snarled at him.

He leered my way, then answered:

“Yes. If not for her monstrous actions, I wouldn’t be the monster I am now,” then his gaze shifted toward Remora, “tell me, were your coworkers your assigned target? The very people who worked for the same company as you?”

Remora twitched, the realization must have dawned on her.

“No. I did it because I wanted to leave and I knew others would be sent after me if I did so. I was trying to keep myself from being pursued.”

“I suppose I can’t blame you for that. After all, if even just one of your colleagues happened to survive and catch wind of what happened, then surely they would come after you. So you can’t blame me, then, when I do just that.”

“I see. So that’s how it is.”

“Yes. I suppose now is a good of a time as any to clear some things up, yes? No more leaving you in the dark. Even if that’s what you did to me. To all of us,” he lifted up one hand and little worm-like appendages writhed from the tips of his fingers. “You see, one moment I was standing in a crowd with others. Some of which I got along with. Then, a flash and we were all torn apart in the resulting blast. I struggled to open my eyes, and as I watched my colleagues, in pieces, I wept. My body, a mangled mess, burns all around me, and as I clung to dear life, begged to be let live, by some miracle, I watched the landscape turn to darkness.”

“You weren’t wrong to think these actions were the cause of a cosmic entity. I’ve heard the stories of such beings, the rumors. To me, such things as celestial beings, angels, never meant anything to me. But in that moment, when I was met with darkness, the last vestige of life slipping from me, I wanted to believe. So I called out, ‘if there’s anything out there, please, let me live!’ And I found myself entangled in a swirling mass of limbs while I stared into my savior: an unending sea of branches, wires, legs, and tentacles, all connected together and piled onto each other.

“Despite having no mouth, it spoke to me and nursed me to life by making itself a part of me. However, the changes were a little too late as I was weakened to the point where my body could no longer sustain itself but I soon found that I could grant myself new life through the corpses of others, along with their memories from when they were alive. It was like their lives had become a part of mine, and the more I occupied, the more energy I gained. Soon I was able to create my own projections and conjure beasts of my own. And along with all that...came a vast amount of knowledge, including of the one who killed me.”

“So the thing at the basement of the mansion, was that the so-called entity?” I asked.

“Yes and no. It was me. Or more, a projection of what I remembered it looking like and a little puppet in which I could speak through.”

“Well, that little puppet stole innocent lives.”

“No one is innocent. That’s the first thing you need to learn about life,” he waved a skeletal finger my way.

“Then did any of those other people lured in to that mansion deserve it? Did the Mel twins deserve it?”

“What does it matter? Life and death mean little to people like your Remora and I.”

‘My’? What?

“If that’s true, then you wouldn’t have begged for your own life, and you wouldn’t have tried to take hers. When it comes down to it, you’d probably use any excuse just to murder someone.”

“And you think Remora is any different? She doesn’t care about anyone else’s life but her own.”

“You’re wrong!” Remora argued. “I may have been that way before, hell, I may not have even cared about my own, but now I have friends. I have people who are important to me.”

“You don’t deserve friends!” He shouted, then, lowered his voice back, “I had friends. You took them from me.”

Maybe he’s right, from a moral perspective. From all the things she’s done, people she’s used, could it really be said that she deserved what she got? But then…I myself don’t really care about things like that. If anything, I’m just as bad as her. ‘Morals’? The only moral I have is protecting those who are important to me. Everything else is secondary.

“Maybe you’re right,” I replied. He froze, then a satisfied smile took over. I continued, “but to me, it’s not a matter of deserve or not. That she has friends is not for you to decide – if people choose to be friends with her, it’s their choice, not yours.”

“How bold. That you would align yourselves with her even after all you know only solidifies that you’re the enemy.”

I snorted. That was too much.

“Ah ha ha! No shit! We’ve been enemies for a long fucking time,” real quick, I turned to Tigershark, “sorry about the language.”

She still looked on the verge of tears, but she looked up.

“It’s okay. I think there are worse things to say,” she reassured me.

“So what happened to this entity, then?” Sunny shot her hand up and asked.

What? You think this is a classroom?

“We are connected, yes,” Cronus answered, “but I know not of its whereabouts. The last thing I heard was that they took on a human form. Which, I’ll give you all a freebie: since it has become human, it can be killed. If you can kill it, then the source of my power would go away as well, thus rending me mortal. But could you do it, knowing that in all likelihood, it wouldn’t have any memories of their previous self, and could be some ordinary man in Florida with a family of his own?”

Sunny wasn’t expecting such an answer. I was less surprised, even though I had no idea, myself.

“As for me, I have transcended humanity. I can create beasts, affect reality, occupy the corpses of others, and make people lose their sense of self. No matter which body I take, I can just regenerate and even if you destroy that body, then I just occupy a new one.”

Ray was the next one to shoot his hand up.

“Yes, excuse me, Mr. Death God? I have a question,” Ray spoke up.

“What is it?” Cronus was just taking questions now like it was nothing. OK.

“Was the whole thing with the fog, the impostor Rhea, and the stone constructs meant to wear us all down?”

“Yes. I had no doubts that you all would survive your whole ordeal on the way here. But by breaking both your bodies and spirits, then it would be all too easy to end your lives here and now.”

“Ah, the classic attrition strategy.”

“Now, your lives all end here!” He roared as several of the vines behind him shot forth our way. Their piercing thorns and the sharp, blade-like tips could have been sharp enough to impale us where we stood, if not bleed out.

Looks like it’s time for me to make my move as well.

I stood in front of everyone else and brought out the miniature bounded field. All of the vines rushed in where I stood, met the barrier, and disintegrated then and there. Everyone was unharmed.

“I kinda figured you were doing something like that as well,” I stated while closing up the miniature bounded field and returning the device to my pocket, “that’s why I chose not to involve myself too much in the previous battles.”

He laughed, smug as ever.

“Be that as it may, there was no need to weaken you. What could you possibly do? You’re just one ordinary human.”

“Maybe so,” a sinister grin spread across my face and I untied the black robe that was around my waist and put it back on, “but if anything, that just makes you more pathetic.”

“Again, you’re all talk.”

“What do you think we’ve been doing all this time? Talking. All because you know you yourself are too weak to kill an ordinary, pathetic human such as myself? See, the way I see it, you’re no death god. You’re just a human with a power trip. You claim you can kill anyone, do what you please, make others lose their sense of self, but you couldn’t even kill me! And as a matter of fact, I think I know myself now more than ever.”

“A minor oversight which I will fix now,” he growled.

“Really? You promise this time? ‘Cronus the Harvester’? Give me a break. You can do some fancy tricks, but at the end of the day, you’re still mortal and I will be the one to prove that to you.”

I brought out my switchblade, its black casing with the gold blade on the inside. I flipped down the switch on the side of the casing one notch, then flicked the switchblade open. The blade sprung up, and along with it unfolded a metallic rod which clicked into place. At the very tip of the rod was the blade, which then expanded and curled down. What was once the casing for the switchblade became the hilt and I then held in my hand a full-formed sickle.

It was much heavier in its current form than when it was as a switchblade, but the damn thing was heavy from the start. It had to be.

“This is why I called it Death Knight,” I turned to Tigershark. At first she still looked despondent and teary-eyed, but she looked up, then her face lit up and she grinned. I took it as a sign of approval. Ray, meanwhile, scratched his chin.

“Hmm...seems a little too edgy, don’t you think?” He pondered.

Jeez, nothing pleases you people, huh?

Cronus shot forth many vines from his hand and I charged in, took a swipe and cut them down. From the side, many more vines from the wall flew in my direction. I swerved and did a sweeping slash, cutting those all down as well.

“Your attacks are too slow and the shape of your weapon leaves too many openings for you,” Cronus observed.

“But it gets the job done for large swarms such as that,” I replied, then flipped the switch another notch and the blade’s casing turned to the side as the metal rod pushed through to the other side while black perimeter of the rod popped out to reveal a blade on its inside as well, while the outer shell, what was once the perimeter of the rod, teemed with static.

The original blade shrunk down and attached itself near the top of the newly formed sword.

“So you copied my sickle and took it one step further,” he noted, then from the vines that sprouted from his palm, he formed a sickle of his own, “but you forgot that I hold the original and while you use pieces of the entity to fuel your weapon, I am the real deal.”

He leaped into the air and swung his sickle down my way, but I took a step back as he hit the ground and his blade missed. In turn, I sidestepped and swung forth with my own blade, the electrical currents running through as I sliced him in half, but before I got through all the way, he grabbed my blade.

“That same trick won’t work twice,” he grunted, and vines moved around his body, spread out, and then the sparks dissipated, “what? Did you think I would be paralyzed too?”

I shook my head and smiled, “actually, I don’t really care about that,” and pushed the blade through harder until it tore through his grip and sliced his hand off as well as reaching the other end of him. He split in two, but before his top half hit the ground, appendages from the bottom half swung around and held tight to the top half.

Let’s not make this a smooth regeneration, I thought as I lunged forth and swung my blade downward until he was in fourths.

Even then, he was quick to connect.

“You just don’t get it: I can regenerate. Furthermore, even if you manage to kill the body, I will just find another.”

“Good. That just means I can kill you over. And over. And over again,” I let my excitement show, but more so, it was the anger that I’ve been holding back. “So answer me this: how many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man?!”

He opened his mouth wide and roared and many appendages launched out from his mouth, each with mouths of their own. As he charged with his sickle, so too did those mouths, all looking to tear a chunk out of me. I ducked as he went for a horizontal swing, and at the same time, the appendages wriggled down and opened wide for a bite, but I sprung up to the side, then cut them all down and leaped up to to thrust my blade down into his mouth and a jolt of electricity exploded inside as I pulled my blade back out, then jumped back.

He screamed and wailed in agony, but then clamped his mouth shut and swallowed, seeming fine once more. He smiled, then licked his lips, to which I noticed just how long of a tongue he had.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” Sunny cheered for me and I noticed in my peripheral Tigershark jumping up in the air as well. Really, that’s all I need.

He ran my way, once again with sickle in hand, and tried for a diagonal slash, but I took my blade and thrust upward, chipping off the blade of his sickle and splitting it in half. He leaned over and reached his head down with his large mouth with many rows of sharp, jagged teeth, and his large tongue splitting into many, smaller, thinner tongues. His breath was so close, but before he could clamp down on my head, I slid to the floor in between his legs and sliced upward, right through his crotch.

He let out a yelp of pain and blood dripped down from between his legs, and before he could turn, I thrust my blade into his chest. Just as soon as I did so, I released the blade and let the electrical currents speak for themselves as the red, metallic liquid which poured from his chest mixed with the sparks from my blade and it caused an explosion through his whole body which sent me back as well.

Light burn marks filled my cheeks, but that was nothing compared to the agony he went through.

“Is it over?” Ray asked.

I shook my head. Things were never that easy. Not that quick.

What first was a sharp, shrill cry of pain soon turned into a booming, earth-shattering roar and through the smoke emerged two large claws, each of which must have been of greater size than Cronus’ own body, or whoever that body first belonged to. His face appeared next from out of the smoke, elongated and filled with writhing worms. What once held eyes was sunken in. It was like watching a fleshy skull contort itself to that of some other creature.

“You think you only have to fight me?” He bellowed and from his open mouth emitted a heavy gust of wind with little frost particles. The air around us turned thick and gray at the same time.

He’s trying to conjure up both that pseudo-blizzard and pseudo-fog at the same time. He’s really ready to kill all of us, any means necessary. Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.

I ran back to the others, then faced Cronus, or whatever form he took now, and transformed my blade back into a sickle, then with both hands, made large sweeping motions.

“Ow, ow,” the others winced as little shards cut into them. I continued to sweep along, however, and soon the gusts of air created cleared away the fog and turned the air still once more.

Short breaths forced out of me as the motions took more strength than I expected they would. Cronus shifted back into his more human-like appearance, but whatever calm demeanor he held prior had washed away and in its place a hateful scowl was plastered on.

“You should give up now. You all will be much more useful if you join me, together in death,” he growled.

“Y’know, it could be my Gothic sensibilities talking,” Ray pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket along with his lighter, to which he flicked a flame, then took a puff from his cigarette, “but that sounds rather gay. I’m flattered, really, and if you were a different person who didn’t cause so many problems for me, I might have taken you up on your offer. As it stands, I want nothing to do with you.”

“Ray! Since when did you smoke?!” Sunny sounded appalled.

“I’m going to be blunt with you, Sunny,” Ray took another puff, “it’s weed.”

“Wait, really? You got one in there for me?”

Ray sighed, “this is why I was keeping my stash a secret from you,” then pulled out a joint for Sunny.

“Light me up. This shit’s been stressful for me too!”

Seriously, you’re going to get yourselves high at a time like this? Though given what we’ve all been through, I guess I can’t blame them.

“Do you really think you can protect them and fight me at the same time?!” Cronus’ booming voice shouted in my direction.

“I have to try,” I replied and clenched my fists.

“You know you will fail. Need I remind you what happened with the Mel twins? You know, I hold their memories. They never had any confidence in you.”

All you did was serve as a humiliating end to their lives, he spoke to me through my thoughts.

I’m not surprised, I retorted within my thoughts, if you think that will deter me, you’re mistaken. That they didn’t make it is the whole reason why I must take you down.

I charged at him and transformed my sickle back into its blade form. He, meanwhile, shot forth the multitude of vines once again, and I sliced through them but a few flew past from overhead.

Damn it! It’s too high up!

In a panic, I tossed my blade into the air to cut down the remaining vines. While my focus was on his summoned vines, he rushed in and swiped at me with the back of his thorny palm. Although I reacted in time to avoid any further hits, I was caught off guard by the swipe and they pricked little cuts into my cheek.

I winced, then kept my focus on my opponent, who had conjured up his sickle once more. He tried to swipe with it, much like he did his palms, but that time, I stepped far enough back, then took a leap forward and slashed down, but his sickle blocked my blade. We were in a lock, weapon against weapon, and he tried shifting his weight against his sickle, but when I still pushed harder, he unleashed several vines from his back and I let go of my blade, kicked against his sickle, knocking him back, just as the vines came crashing down my way, but it was too late; the space between us was vast enough that they all missed. I slashed them away, then charged in once more.

I sliced one of his arms clean off. Next I went and tore his sickle. He looked at a disadvantage, but as soon as his arm regrew, and right when I went for his head, limbs from his back grew, not just vines, but long and thick spider-like legs with needles at the tip. They pushed my blade aside, and then he grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up.

“I’m sorry. Did you think this was going to be easy?” He mocked.

I struggled to breathe, struggled to be let loose from his grip. At the same time, I held onto my blade as tight as I could, not wanting it to drop.

He could have killed me then and there, I was sure, but instead, he tossed me across the room and I landed on my feet rather than fell to the ground. My throat still felt tight, but I could keep going. I had to.

While I was working my way to fight him once more, he turned his attention to the rest of the group and launched the limbs from his back their way, along with the vines as well.

I ran forth, unsure whether I could make it to tear them down, or whether I should focus more on the main body. My nerves were on overdrive, however, as they seemed to be going too fast for me to do anything in time. I glanced and saw Remora shove everyone else aside as she intended to take the full force of the limbs and thorny vines.

“You idiot!” I shouted.

But instead of her sustaining any further injuries, she rolled out of the way in time.

Maybe I made the wrong assumption. Good job. As much as I still have my issues with you, I would much rather see you alive. That reminds me...

“I just have to ask: were you the one who brought Rhea back to life?”

“Yes, I lived through her corpse,” he smiled, amused at himself.

“No. That’s not what I mean. Did you revive her?” I put emphasis on ‘revive’ as I insisted he answer the question. He just shook his head with an irritated frown on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s true that if I had that power, it would have made it easier to get rid of your Remora, but I have no such ability. If I did, the only person I would want to revive would be myself.”

Not your so-called friends that you claimed you had?

I steeled my resolve and ran at Cronus once again. At first head on, but seeing as he would have predicted that, I sidestepped, then swung my blade in a horizontal motion. He put up a wall of vines, but I slashed through those. Every time I went for the offensive, he put up more makeshift walls and backed away.

Is he weakening? I wondered, but soon, one of those limbs formed a mouth and in my carelessness, I was so focused on cutting down his walls that I didn’t react in time and it bit down on my ankle and tore out a chunk of my flesh.

“Aaah!” I screamed. I backed away to the side, but the pain surged through me and I began to walk with a limp, impeding my movements.

“Haa...haa…” I huffed.

He sent out more of them my way and I was able to turn to the sides to avoid them, but I couldn’t move as well.

I need to do something! I have to put an end to this here and now!

I tripped over myself as I tried to avoid the limbs once more and fell. I pushed myself back up, but before I could move out of the way, one of the limbs pierced its way into the back of my shoulder. Once again, I yelled out and my face grew strained.

“So much for your little act of heroics,” he taunted.

I rolled over and tried to hold up my blade, but he slammed his foot down against it and kept me from moving it.

“I’ve decided: you will be the first to be devoured,” he snarled and opened his mouth wide.

Devoured...devoured...of course.

I flicked against the blade and it retracted back into a switchblade, but not before slicing off his foot. He yelped, and as the vines repaired his injury, I limped and hobbled my way back toward the rest of the group.

“Nice try,” I heard from him, as a couple more limbs were sent my way. I thought I would have been done for, but Remora pulled out her rifle, split it into the two pistols, and fired at each.

“Thanks,” I wheezed out the word. While there were some unresolved things between us, I had to admit that at times, she had protected me as well.

“Do you think you can shoot off a chunk of rock from one of the walls?” I asked her in a desperate move.

“I can try. What are you thinking?”

“I’m just interested in reenacting an old myth,” I teased, and if I wasn’t already wincing, I would have winked.

The entire sea of vines in the back of the room seemed to head for us all as Cronus too approached us, little by little.

I transformed my switchblade once again into a sickle and tried to sweep them away, or generate enough of a gust to drive them back, but I found I no longer had the strength.

“Here, I may be a little buzzed right now, but I can still help,” Sunny suggested and held out her hand. In a show of trust, I handed her the sickle and nodded. With both hands, Sunny swept and waved the sickle in heavy motions, so much so that just as I hoped, the vines were driven back.

“This should buy us a little bit of time. Remora, your turn,” I ordered.

“What’s the magic word?” She teased and I was furious.

“Fucking hell! We don’t have time!”

“Nope. That’s not it,” she leaned over with a cheeky grin.

“Please!”

“There’s your manners,” she then stood up tall and formed her two guns back into a rifle and aimed at the left side wall. The resulting blast caused a few chunks of stone to drop.

Good.

Next was Tigershark, though I was a little reluctant, given that she was a child.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything, Tigershark, especially after some of the things you heard –” I began.

“Hey!” She scowled and looked at me. “I hate this guy too! I hate him just as much as I’m mad at you and Remora right now! Which is a lot!”

I gave a hollow chuckle.

“I guess I deserve that…” My attention turned to the stone. We still didn’t have a lot of time, but I was banking on a long shot as it was.

“Anyway,” I looked over, “do you think you can run over there and pick up the biggest rock you can find.”

“Um…” She looked toward Cronus, then back at the pile of stones.

“I won’t let any harm come to you and whatever I can’t do, someone else here can. I know I’m not the best, but…” Tears began to form. I wiped them away, then continued, “it’s not just me who can do something. I have to accept that.”

She nodded, then took off. Just as I thought, he sent one of the limbs her way while continuing to advance toward us. Remora shot it down before it could even get close to reaching Tigershark. I saw Tigershark look around at the pile, then she lifted up a large stone, large enough to be considered a boulder.

That kid sure is strong, I couldn’t help but smile.

“To think you were considered such a dangerous killer,” he mused to Remora, “and now all you can do is stay still and shoot your gun.”

“So...basically what a sniper already does?” She pointed out.

I saw Tigershark run back with the stone in both arms. Her run was more like a waddle, given the heaviness of the stone.

Four of the limbs from Cronus’ back shot in my and Sunny’s direction, but Ray wrangled them up with the threads he kept in his pocket. They tried to break free, but Ray held on tight and the threads were plenty tough in their own right.

“No matter,” he looked irritated, “it’s time to feed.”

His mouth opened wide, like the jaws of a shark, it was large enough to swallow a single person whole. Sunny tried to swing the sickle to stop him from reaching in any closer, but he held her wrist tight with one hand.

“Tigershark! Now! Toss this in his mouth!”

She looked to the side with a befuddled expression, but did as instructed as I backed away and she tossed the stone right in, as if it were a basketball and Cronus’ mouth was the hoop.

He clamped down and swallowed the stone then looked back at us once again.

“Not what I intended, but inconsequential.”

Maybe. It was a stretch. But I had to do something.

“Now,” he reeled one arm back as he readied it, probably for a clawed attack. Maybe he intended to impale one right through the chest. Something which unlike himself, I could not recover from.

However, nothing happened.

Or rather, I watched him struggle to move as he stood in place, then started to gag.

“What...the shocks did nothing...this shouldn’t be happening…” he wheezed out.

“It’s taking everything within your power just to break the stone down, I can imagine,” I theorized.

He continued to retch, then dropped down to his knees, shaking hands on his throat.

“I must have used too much power,” he heaved out the words, “with everything I threw at you all, it should have been enough.”

“You’ve been straining your power for a while now,” I corrected him. “And it just goes to show, you’re not without your limits.”

He spat out little chunks of rock onto the floor, then scowled at me, his face red.

“It will take a while for me to recover. However, I will return. Enjoy your peace while it lasts,” he warned.

“Oh, believe me, I will,” I stared down at him, then held out my hand to the side, “Sunny, my blade, please?”

She handed me the sickle and I transformed it back into a sword.

“You might want to look away for this part,” Sunny warned Tigershark. “And here, I’ll cover your eyes.”

With the last ounces of strength I had left, I plunged my blade down his open mouth. Behind us, the wall of thorns dissipated into little streaks of dark smoke. As I stared down into Cronus, blood gurgled out from his mouth, and then his eyes rolled back, lifeless. When I lifted the blade out, he fell to the floor before he too turned to smoke.

Exhausted, I dropped to my knees, retracted the blade back into a switchblade, then closed the knife back into its casing.

“A for effort?” I turned to everyone and joked. Exhausted, I thought I was about to turn to sleep. Maybe even an eternal sleep, but Sunny reached down and lifted me back to my feet.

“Let’s go back home,” Ray told us, or maybe it was Sunny. Their voices were a blur to the point where I wondered if I was the high one. But it was a pleasant thought.

Yes, home.

[myuntoldstory]

Mystic Messenger | Cinereous

AO3 | FF.net

Sixth prompt of Jihyun Week: Dream | Tranquility

This is not an entry to Jihyun Week 2020. I'm basically just trying to finish the series I created in AO3.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: V | Jihyun Kim/Main Character

Warning: N/A

Word Count: 4, 104

Summary: “I… never deserved to love anyone in the first place…”

Set during the 1pm 8th Day phone call. Lux takes a much needed break after caring for V after his rescue. She has a dream that causes her to have hope for his future. She decides to call him and tell him about it, but his words on the other side may have just convinced her that everything, indeed, is hopeless.

Cinereous

For the first time, Lux takes a break.

It's at Seven's insistence. V gives him enough stress; if she also falls ill then his heart will definitely fail. So, for his sanity, she leaves V in their care for a short while. Since she's desperate for some fresh air, she tells the agents that she'll be resting outside. After a stern warning in safety and self-preservation, Seven sends her off.

That's how she ends up underneath a great tree just a short distance away from the cabin. She wraps her arms around herself with a sigh. The hideout's in an open area, allowing her to see a gorgeous view of the mountains. With a faraway stare, she traces the jagged shapes with her gaze. Weariness begins to weigh on her as she relaxes.

She closes her eyes...

... But opens them again when the echoes return.

V's pain... his torture... the sound of it won't leave her head. All she could do was listen at that time. In this mess she created that was the extent of her usefulness. Sit, chat, listen... that was it. Wouldn't that make her the worst? With her naivety she caused this... yet, she couldn't even help the man who risked his life for her. As he choked and gasped and cried... all she amounted to was listening.

A lump forms in her throat and she swallows it down. The past twelve hours... was like hell. V's anguish cut into her soul. And it wasn't only his physical pain. The things he had said in delirium... it made her hurt for him. That kind of pain... it's ingrained so deep within him that dislodging it requires a miracle. What makes it worse is that every negative thought he accepts nurtures it. With his own hands, he digs it deeper, making it more impossible to remove.

Because of this she takes charge of caring for V. He worked so hard and suffered so much for her sake. Compared to that her efforts aren’t much. Still, she wants to do what she can for him. It is her turn. This isn't enough and it will never be, but the least she can do is help him through this.

In the early days, she didn't understand why he worried so much for her.

But those past twelve hours, as he writhed in pain...

She understood...

Now, all she thinks about is him—his health, safety, happiness…

If anything happens to him…

Lux sighs.

Good thing he seems to be improving—if the way he looked this morning was any indication. It's all thanks to Vanderwood, Seven's associate. Even with this, she was useless, only delegated to helping the agent as he purged the elixir from V's system. Yet, even as the poison leaves his body, the one in his heart remains. How can she begin to heal something like that? What kind of antidote does it need?

As she puzzles these questions, her lids grow heavy. The exhaustion finally catches up to her. Yawning, she closes her eyes. A short nap... that's all she needs. Stealing a few minutes of rest will ease the tension a bit. After that... she'll return to V’s side.

Within minutes, she’s sound asleep.

The next time she opens her eyes, she finds herself looking into another's... gentle and mint coloured. She looks into them with love, happiness, and pride... because he did it. Everything he wanted for himself, all that she hoped for him... he achieved them all. Now in his hands is the one thing she wished for him. All the effort he made himself, the burden he carried alone with no complaint—he never gave up. He fought... and he won.

And the change in him... nothing short of miraculous. Gazing at him, she realises that she's seeing him for the first time. This man, the one standing in front of her, is him—as a human being. Alive. And God, how she loves him. For taking the courage to step out... she loves him more. Now he lives for himself—loves himself. The person before her makes her heart so full she's about to burst.

He holds her hands tightly, as if he's telling her that he will never let her go. She doesn't want him to. Tears spring from her eyes as he says the words she longs to hear. How his eyes sparkle with love and vitality. She wants to stay by his side, to walk with him on every journey he takes. She wants to see through it all with him, now until the end of time.

Laughing through her tears, she reaches out and cups his cheek. Then, she gently combs through his new hairstyle. He leans into her touch, gazing at her with such tenderness that it makes her cry more. For the first time in a long time she's happy. Their future is now something she looks forward to

Then, in the distance, she hears something…

Lux wakes up with a start, disoriented from the sudden transition from dream to reality. Looking around, she recognises the mountains while her mind reeled with incoherent thoughts. To calm herself she takes in a few deep breaths of fresh oxygen. What she saw... was a dream. It wasn't real--it wasn't, but... a cautious smile tugs at her lips. It can be. It will be. She'll work hard to make it so. The vision is so full of hope that it feeds the optimist in her, convincing her that everything will be okay.

The sound that roused her was her message tone. It's Seven, telling her to return and continue resting in the cabin. Sighing, she rises to her feet and embarks on the trek back to the cabin. After sending a text back her smile finally breaks out. She should call V and tell him about her dream. He exuded such happiness in that vision—though it's not real, in that place he reached peace. If he thinks about that, even just the possibility of it, then it will give him hope too.

The phone rings as she brings it to her ear. It connects after a few seconds. Smile widening, she's about to say his name when his pained, heavy breathing stops her. The joy in her expression vanishes. Icicles prick her nerves as a cold feeling spreads from the pit of her stomach. Her steps hasten.

"H-hello...?" he rasps.

"V!" she cries. "V, are you okay? What's wrong!?"

He sounds like he's struggling to breathe. Every shaky breath he takes brings shudders down her spine. It pushes the cold to crawl into her heart. She breaks at a run as she waits for his answer. With each step she silently begs V to say something, anything, comfort her and tell her that he's okay.

"I feel..." he pants, "hot..."

The cabin is close. Another minute and she can reach the door. Half of her wants to end the call and alert the agents... but the sound of his agony is so great that she can't leave him. He sounds like he did back then, during his torture. That time when she couldn't do anything. She listens now as she did back then... but at least this time around she can go to him. She can help.

At least with this... she can be by his side.

"I'm on my way!" she says. "Hang on!"

“I… never deserved to love anyone in the first place…”

Lux almost freezes at his words. The sharpness of it grazes her heart. No... please, not again. She runs faster, bracing to hear more of the hurtful words he wounds himself with. A plethora of comforts and assurances gather at the top of her head. It's useless and hopeless, like before when they treated him for the first time... but still, she readies herself to say it to him anyway.

“V, listen—”

“I’m… a person… who only… hurts others… it’d be best… if I could get lost somewhere where I couldn’t meet anyone… and die there…”

“V… V, don’t say that…” she says, a lump forming in her throat.

Tears sting the back of her eyes, but she refuses to cry. She swallows down the lump in her throat. Since she started this whole mess she had not shed a tear. Now is not the time to do so. V had been strong for her; now she has to be for him. She can't be weak, not when she has no right to. Though she bleeds for him every time he hurts himself... she must be strong. For him. She must be.

"V, listen to me," she pleads as she bursts through the door.

The commotion takes the agents by surprise. A cursory look at their faces reveals their shock at her urgency, but she has no time for them. She ignores them as they yell and demand answers from her. She rushes through the living room towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"Listen—you're not that kind of person, okay? J-just... please, listen to me, okay? Trust me, please."

V's room is the first door. She reaches towards the knob, ready to burst in—

“How could I?”

She pauses. His words are both a demand and a plea. Tears start to well up her eyes and she squeezes them closed to prevent them from falling. Gritting her teeth, she takes her hand off the knob, curling it into a fist and pounding it weakly against the door. The rambling may come from the elixir, but the words all come from within him. What frustrates and kills her is that no matter her effort it will never reach him. It's like she's fighting against the inevitable.

“Look at what I have done…” he continues, “Rika… RFA… you…”

But it’s not your fault! She wants to say to him.

“How can I… who have endangered everyone…”

No, it was me. I endangered everyone… because I was stupid…

The words she so desperately wants to scream at him can't find its way out of her lips. She bites the bottom as it starts to tremble. The tears persist behind her lids. She is a hairsbreadth away from betraying her own pain, but she must not. She has to be strong for him. There will be time to be weak later, but right now he needs her. And she must not be weak in front of him.

"I'm really sorry..."

She shakes her head at his apology. "No..."

“Why… do you… even… care for me…?”

“Because I like you, V…!”

The words, whispered and pained, escape her lips.

Silence follows.

“I—I want…” she continues, hesitating, “I want to be by your side…”

Regret follows at the tail end of her confession. She grimaces. Of all the things to tell him at this moment. How silly of her to let this slip when, right now, nothing she says ever heals anything. This is the first time she tells him plainly how she feels... and it won't even reach him. It won't even come close to touching his heart. These words of hers will not do a single thing to tether him to anything worth living for.

“By my side…?”

She almost cringes at V's shocked voice. Nervousness and anxiety overtake her. She finds that she doesn't want to hear it right now.

His answer.

“S-sorry... forget what I just said—”

“W-where are you now?”

Her eyes snap open and she looks at the door in surprise.

“I’m right here.”

“Lux, I... want to hear your voice in person…”

“V?”

“Not just your voice… I want to see you…”

There's a change in his voice—urgency? Desperation... no, it's yearning... for what? Her? Her heart, tormented and confused, pounds in her chest as her mind reels. She yearns for him too. More than anything. Though she's been by his side all this time she still wants to see him; she wants to hear his voice. She wants to hold his hands and offer him comfort. She wants to help him.

She reaches for the knob again.

“I’m coming in—”

“N-no...! No…”

She stops.

“You should… take your time… I cannot let you see me right now…”

“It’s okay, V—”

“It’s not—I cannot… make you another victim…”

With a sad smile, she shakes her head in disagreement.

He should stop being so kind…

Because if this keeps up… she has no choice but to fall.

“I’m sorry… I’ll hang up now before I say anything more strange…”

“I’ll be there soon, V.”

“Okay…” he sighs. “Be careful…”

As soon as the call ends her hand falls and hangs limply at her side. When the tension dissipates she finds her legs feeling weak. She lets it give out under her and slowly, she slides down against the door. Sighing, she presses her forehead against the wood. V suffers on the other side... but she needs time to compose herself.

While she takes a few deep breaths, she feels a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder. She looks up to see Seven sitting on his haunches beside her. With his face turned away she can't see his expression, but she appreciates the gesture all the same. To tell him she's okay, she pats his hand. Nodding, he stands up and begins to walk back to the living room.

"If you need anything..." he says. "Well, you know."

“I will; thank you.”

Lux sees him off, watching until he's gone. Finally, she stands. Anxiety rolls within her like a storm, but she steels herself. Squaring her shoulders, she breathes deep and opens the door. The sight that greets her breaks her heart, but... somehow, thankfully, it's not as bad as she expects.

Lux left V on the bed when she took her break. Now, he's on the floor, sitting against it. His head is bowed, long hair covering his face. Every breath he takes makes his shoulders shake. Some spots on his shirt had darkened with sweat. Assessing the situation, she decides on what to do first. Pocketing her mobile, she walks straight to the drawers to pick up a fresh shirt. Then, she turns to him. Lowering on her haunches, she puts her arms around him and tries to lift him up. At that moment, he comes to. She gives him an encouraging smile as he gazes dazedly at her.

“L-Lux…” he mumbles. “Y-you’re… here…”

“I am, V,” she says with a huff. “I’m here.”

“Thank God…” he sighs, relieved. “Thank God…”

“How did you end up on the floor?”

“I’m sorry… I don’t know…”

Lux sighs as she bears all his weight. They're in an awkward position and it's straining them both by the minute. Though V's thin and a bit lanky, their differences in weight are still significant. She debates on calling any of the agents for help, but... the bed is just there. Coming to a swift decision, she renews her grip.

“In any case, let’s get you up,” she says, breathless. “You’re not out of the woods yet; if you stay on the floor you’ll get sicker... okay, V?”

“Yes…”

“Up on the bed, then,” she says. “Come on—one, two…”

Biting her lips, Lux pushes them both to their feet. V tries his best, but this latest episode left him weak. Still, thanks to his effort she has an easier time sitting him on the edge of the mattress. He wobbles and sways forward, almost toppling off. To steady him, she holds onto his shoulder. Gently, she brushes his damp hair aside to get a good look. His face is wet with sweat. The shade of his skin is deathly pale. Though his eyes are open there’s a blank look in them that worries her.

“Lux…”

She starts when he grabs hold of her hand.

“What’s wrong?” she says softly.

V catches his breath, unable to answer immediately. Then a jolt races across her body as his blank eyes turn to her. Gradually, light returns within them. Lux catches a hint of focus that tells her he's coming back to life... or at the very least he's coming out of his void and into the present.

"I'm so glad to see you..." he sighs. "Are you okay? Are you safe?"

"I'm okay." She intertwines their fingers together, squeezing. "See?"

He nods, weakly squeezing back.

“You’ve sweated a lot,” she says, stroking her thumb across his skin. “Let’s dry you off and change your shirt, okay? It will be uncomfortable resting with damp clothes.”

“Okay…”

“Okay.”

Gingerly, she extricates herself from him. Without her supporting him he looks frail, but at least he can now hold himself up. She brings the clean shirt to him before turning to the basin filled with water. It was good thinking, tidying up and changing everything before taking that break. Now, she doesn’t have to worry about the water and washcloths. She takes one from the nightstand, soaking it into the water before wringing the excess.

“Are you able to take your shirt off?”

“Yes.”

She looks away as she waits. After a few minutes, she turns to him, suppressing a wince at the state of his body. It’s bad enough that he’s one meal skip away from skin over bones… yesterday the marks on his body were a fresh, bright red. Now they’ve darkened to bruises. Her bottom lip trembles as her eyes look over the evidence of the torture he endured. Would he have them if she did more?

She doesn’t know…

She won’t ever be able to know.

For now… for now, all she can do is help him.

Swallowing down the impending tears, she leans towards him.

“I’m sorry for this,” she whispers. “I’ll be careful, okay?”

V nods. Slowly, she runs the washcloth against his skin. He shudders and she mumbles another apology. As she wipes the sweat off she’s careful not to apply too much pressure on any bruises she can’t avoid. She watches for his reaction, for any signs of pain, but there’s only an almost serene expression on his face. His eyes are closed, a sign of trust she doesn’t believe she deserves.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“For what?”

“For making you see me like this… I’m sorry you had to care for me.”

“V, don’t be sorry,” she says. “This isn’t your fault.”

“It is,” he says. “I don’t deserve your help… or any of this…”

Lux’s mouth set in a thin line. Out of everyone in this cabin, she’s the one who deserves the least amount of help. After everything he ever endured because of her, he’s still protecting her. He still cares. If they switched positions he would go above and beyond to convince her not to apologise.

“Everyone deserves help, V,” she says. “Even the sinners.”

“I don't…”

He trails off and she's finally run out of words to fight against him. She continues with the rest of the clean-up in silence. Every few seconds she checks in on him and every time she catches him watching her. There is a focus in his gaze, the sort that makes her cheeks warm. It's like he sees only her. What a dangerous thought to entertain. He's only looking out for her, as he has always done before. After cleaning him up she helps him with the new shirt; after, she tucks him into bed. Vanderwood's hastily scribbled schedule for the antidote rests on the nightstand. She consults it as V waits, learning that he is due for another dose.

"Drink this," she says, pressing the prepared medication in his palm.

Without a word, he obeys. Lux takes the time to tidy up before resuming her perch on the chair beside him. She smiles when V glances at her, relieved when he smiles back—albeit weakly. Every few seconds his eyes start to flutter. The antidote must be taking effect, which is good. He needs all the rest he can get. She watches as drowsiness sets in him. When he closes his eyes her gaze drifts to his body. Should she ask Vanderwood to do something about his injuries? When they first treated him Vanderwood said there were no broken bones, but... still, those must be painful.

“Lux?”

She blinks, surprised.

"Yes, V?" she says.

He doesn't answer immediately.

"What you said... on the phone before... you came in..."

She frowns. "Which one?"

The moment the words leave her lips she immediately regrets it. There's only one thing in their phone conversation that's worth addressing. After everything that transpired she forgot about it. Her heart races with nervousness. Is he going to answer her? Now? But she's not ready for it. At this moment she doesn't want to hear it.

"Don't worry about that," she says. "It's nothing."

"Lux, please, it's not nothing."

"Right now it is," she insists. "Let's focus on you, V, okay? Your recovery is far more important. And with everything that's going on, we can't afford distractions."

"… As you wish.”

"… Thank you."

"Then... in place of that allow me to apologise."

"For what?" she says, wary. Is he going to reject her after all?

"For my words earlier... I know they trouble you. I'm so sorry."

"Oh..." she sighs, relieved—terrible, but at least she can handle this. ”Don't apologise... it's okay."

"It's not," he says. "I'm sorry for making you see me like this. It must be scary, dealing with me in my delirium. My physical state is no better... you shouldn't be seeing any of this."

"V... your injuries are not your fault."

"Perhaps not..." he sighs, "but I want to protect you from seeing such terrible things. You should only see good things... things that warm your heart and puts your mind at ease. I fear what all this will do to you in the future."

"I appreciate that," she says with a small smile. “But… well, I want to take care of you no matter what. The things you say… the things I see… it won’t stop me from caring for you. Because I want to be just here, beside you.”

“Oh…”

Her smile widens slightly at his reddening cheeks.

“Will you apologise for that too?” she teases.

“I… don’t think it will be appropriate.”

“Yes,” she chuckles. “So don’t worry, okay? Just rest—for me. The faster you recover the better I’ll feel.”

“Lux...”

“All right? Don't think about anything… just concentrate on sleeping."

Swallowing hard, he nods. "Okay..."

As silence falls upon them once more, Lux reaches out on instinct and holds his hand with both of hers. To help him sleep, she runs her thumbs across the back in a soothing massage. Every so often she squeezes, smiling whenever he squeezes back. Compared to what they're all capable of... this is the only thing she can do. She doesn't even know if it's helping. She doesn't know much of anything, which is why she managed to mess up everything and hurt everyone.

V should have left her in Magenta. It would have been for the best.

“Is this okay?” she says, voice catching.

“Yes…” he sighs. “Your hands… warm… gentle…”

She decides to stay beside him until he wakes... until he no longer needs her. As she watches over him the dream sneaks into her mind, taunting her. The opportunity to talk to him about it had passed already. Still, she wants to tell him all about it. At the same time, she must be honest with herself. With the way things are now it doesn't seem like it will make any difference. He wouldn't have held onto the possibility of hope.

“Lux…”

She focuses on him again. "Yes, V?"

“I’m… happy to see you… hear your voice…”

Her eyes widen. Softly spoken, laced with sleep, what he said somehow unlocks something within her. The tears she worked so hard to hold back now spill over her eyes. Her lower lip trembles and she bites it to keep from making any sound. With a soft sniffle, she smiles, sad and helpless. After wiping them away, she squeezes his hand.

V might not hold onto hope right now... nor does he believe in any form of peace and salvation for himself. But she can do it. She will do it. For him... she will believe in everything he doesn't. Little by little, she can impart it on him. Until he's able to accept it and do it himself. Until he reaches that place, the very same in her dreams. Until then...

She will hope for him.

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy! 

gif credit to @jj-maybnks​ 

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol 

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

-

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

-

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers. 

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

-

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!" 

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful." 

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that. 

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor." 

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket. 

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd. 

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.  

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline. 

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf. 

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

-

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all. 

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now. 

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips. 

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?" 

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

-

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

-

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover. 

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed. 

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

-

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

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[goblin-biscuits]

Journals: Zak

Aug. 10,

So, the quack says I’m being “willfully resistant” during sessions.  Either I cooperate or my lack of participation is “noted”.  I’m sure my parole officer, Larri, would love that so here we are.  Day one of the proposed compromise.  Ain’t never been one for this diary shit but it beats spilling my guts on a couch just so the city can pick apart my psyche.

~My name is Evelyn, not “the quack”, and three sentences does not a journal make.

Aug. 12, I know you’re hoping for all the juicy, sordid details you ain’t getting during our sessions but I got news for you Evelyn.  My life ain’t exciting.  Not only have I been bored out of my mind but adhering to what’s expected of me has been more of a challenge then anticipated.  I thought having a lot of free time on my hands would be a good thing but I ain’t sure what to do with myself.  Drinking was the only thing keeping me sane, but according to Larri, I ain’t supposed to do that.  Which means most of my spare time has been spent just sitting around and crawling out of my skin.  Thank fuck I’m still allowed to smoke or I’d put a bullet between my ears.

Finally got fed up enough to go visit my sister Zinni at the diner.  Thought maybe catching up would help my sanity; It did.  She asked if I’d been keeping out of trouble; I have.  Problem is, keeping out of trouble sort of means times is lean.  Told her I ain’t had a proper meal in a week, and color me surprised, she got me a job washing dishes at her work.  It’s boring as all get out and I don’t feel overly useful, but I like helping her out and I think she likes it too.

~Good for you.

Aug. 14, Raining today.  Couldn’t find enough get up and go to get to the diner.  Still made parole.  Larri’s an asshole.  Wouldn’t stop asking me questions.  Thought about making him leave.  Just want to sleep.

~If you have days like this I’d like to know more about how you’re feeling and what you’re doing to cope?

Aug. 15, Doing better today.  The rain quit but still can’t seem to get moving.  I’m throwing in the towel again.  Called in “sick.”  Naturally my sister saw fit to come by and check on me.  Brought me something to eat from the diner.

The food from work is typical greasy-spoon fair unless baby sis is cooking.  She’s magic in the kitchen.  Don’t know where she got it from since none of us kids cooked.  Either way she’s got a real knack for it.  Says she wants to open up her own joint someday.  Who knows, maybe someday she’ll have enough bread in the bank to do it.  After everything she’s been through, she deserves her happiness.  Zinni’s a good kid.

She brought me a dime novel too.  She made a big fuss and apologized for not being able to find something more to my taste.  Made me feel bad, so of course I said it was fine.  Now I got to read the damn thing.

Anyway, it don’t live well to make her worry so I’ll go in to work tomorrow.  Even if washing dishes ain’t glamorous it beats staring at the back of my eyelids.

Aug. 16, Finally made it in to town today.  Thankfully baby sis smoothed things over for me with the boss.  I take back what I said about this gig.  I’m finding ways to enjoy the work and I’m gonna ask Zinni if she’ll train me to cook.  I could get used to this.  I know what to expect on the daily and I like the stability.  What’s more, my brothers came by during lunch.  I ain’t seen them in a dogs age so it was good catching up.

The book sis got me’s called “The Jewel of Kirk Castle” and it turns out the title is some kind of double entendre.  The “jewel” is a literal gem but it also refers to the heroin of the story.  It’s the sort of cheesy trash school girls and lonely housewives read, but you know what?  It ain’t half bad.  I’m already halfway through and I got a good feeling about the ending.

~I’ve read that book.  It’s good but the sequel “Thunder in the Valley” is better.

Aug. 18, Gave my ex Kynzie a ring today and she ain't hung up on me this time.  Guess she was feeling a bit charitable since she let me talk to the kid.  Get this, the kid said she ain’t sleeping since there’s “unrest in the kingdom.”  Asked her what she meant and I guess her toys are throwing some kind of coup?  Said her newest tax proposal didn’t go over well which means the “Empress” is having a hell of a time squashing the rebellion.  She also told me not to worry since she’s put the worst offenders in the dungeon.

Is that normal?  I figured if anyone knew it’d be you.  Maybe I weren’t as imaginative as a kid, but my games was just the typical lawmen and bandits scenario.

~I’m aware you think you can deflect my attention elsewhere but I assure you my focus is wholly on you.  That said, I find the revelation that you have any progeny at all a bit of a surprise.  Why haven’t you mentioned her?

Aug. 19, Yes, Evelyn, I got a kid.  Why’s everyone got such a hard time wrapping their head round that?  I don’t know why I ain’t mentioned her afore.  It just didn’t seem all that poignant.  Besides that it’s kind of, well, personal.

My relationship with her Ma is sort of a sore point.  Kynzie thinks I’m bad news and she never misses an opportunity to tell me.  Okay, I admit I’ve been a headache but I never set out to cause such a fuss.  I know I ain’t made the best life choices but who does?  Life just sort of does what it wants to.  I didn’t know things was going to get so messed up.

All I was trying to do was take care of myself.  After Pop took off we had a lot of debt looming over our heads.  That and I had three younger siblings to worry about.  The guys Pop owed came knocking and told me I could work it off.  I figured that didn’t sound like too bad an offer.  That’s how it started anyway.  It was just supposed to be a one and done sort of deal, but, well, those sorts of things ain’t never “one and done," are they?  You start with small jobs like loading cargo.  Then you’re up late guarding said cargo with a bunch of armed guys.  Then it’s running and fencing the cargo.  Next thing you know you're hunting folks down and shaking them up when they try to pull a fast one.  Just pay for the goods!  It ain’t hard!

Anyway, it ain’t never enough for those types.  With Ma dead and Pop gone, I sacrificed everything just to keep food on the table.  Before I knew it, I was grown and the only thing I knew how to do was, well, what I’d already been doing.  How do you go from that to a normal job?  It ain’t easy.  I just wish Kynzie could see what I was trying to do for her; for us.

~I’m being paid to get “personal” Zak.  I thought you were joking when you said you didn’t want to talk about your “Daddy Issues”.  We’re discussing this on Tuesday.

Aug. 20, I finished the book and I’m so fucking pissed!  Clara finally escapes Kirk Castle and rides off into the sunset, wild and free.  That’s great and all, but the stablehand she was into bites the dust.  To top it off that Lord Blackwall guy don’t ever get his comeuppance.   Don’t get me wrong, the story was good, but I’m going to need some time to get over the whole Blackwall thing.  Please tell me he ain’t above snakes in the sequel?

Life’s hard enough as it is.  Real people don’t get off easy.  Not like they do in books.  If the characters can’t have a happy-ending, what’s the point?

~Is escapism something you think of often?  Let’s talk about this at our next meeting.

Aug. 27, Can’t stay.  Some guys I used to know from way back came poking round the diner.  Caused a big mess.  Zinni’s okay but Larri ain’t going to believe my side of things.

These past few weeks were like a dream, but in the end that’s all they were. [I’m doing a lot more writing lately.  This is nothing special, but I’m trying to do character journals as an excuse to get inside the heads of my characters and flesh them out a bit.  I’m definitely going to do more.  Zak isn’t really the sort who would talk about himself much or keep a diary so I thought the concept of a back and forth journal between himself and a psychiatrist was a good option to force him into being introspective.]