#i gotta learn to draw on the job with my work gloves still on

[cubbyhole-for-flea-bee]

the other day at work I had a vague recollection of typing out 'soft owl hugs' at some point recently, and had to draw it :3 at any moment where I didn't actually have to be actively doing my job alfjsdlkjflskfjsaljf

[mistydeyes]

If it’s still open if not you can completely ignore and delete this message butttt can I get a

MW2 Pairing Please 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Pronouns: she/her 

Race: I’m Hawaiian, Filipino, German and Italian (I’m a lot more things but these are the one I know by heart.)

Appearance: Recently I buzzed cut my hair so I don’t have my curly hair anymore, Hazel eyes, I would say I’m average height for a female (5’5), I’m more on the curvy size, glasses and light tan skin. 

Personality: Oh boy where do I start, we’ll for staters I can be very goofy and very serious at times, I have a very dry and dark humor when it comes to my jokes, ENTP, usually at work I’m very bubbly and always being a motherly type figure to my kids, but I will add that I am Bipolar so my personality tends to change whenever I hit a manic episode but nothing to hurtful or mean just more of tired and hardly energetic which usually leaves me in bed for a few hours during the day usually on my off days I’ll let it sink in I’ll never bring that type to things to work.

Things I Like to Do: Reading and Playing video games is usually what I like doing on my free time if not I usually go to the gym to get out of the house if I don’t want to be around family, if not I’m usually drawing or doing a bit of voice acting for my friends series she has going on. If not I love a good hike or driving around very late into the night or star gazing.

Job/Interests/Education: I currently work as summer camp group leader which is me helping the kids learn new things, and play fun activities with them. But right now I just signed up for National Guard as a combat medic so I’m hoping I can head to training sometime later this year for my training. As for my education I actually have a associate degree in Digital art…yea 😅 I don’t know how my job or me joining the military even fits in with my degree 😅

Fun facts: I love tattoos and have a few of my own, I have two tarot cards (sun and moon), a ghost face knife and a Star Wars quote, I can speak a little Hawaiian, Spanish and German, I’m also bipolar, bisexual, I’m the only girl and youngest out of 6 kids, little bit autistic usually if I stim I like to trace or hold one of my friends hands or arms (usually my best friend bc he has tattoos on his arm and lets me color it in).

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

How you met: Military After years in the National Guard, you would think as a combat medic you would have seen it all. But now you had an interesting story as you helped to patch up Johnny Mactavish. After a joint US and UK op, he presented to your tent with not 1 not 3 but 10 shallow knife wounds. The most you had ever seen was maybe 7? "This is a new record," you said as you cleaned his wounds and applied antibiotic ointment. "What can I say, lass? I am a record breaker," he smiled at you as you examined his extremities for any remaining cuts. You grabbed a variety of bandages and went about applying them to the necessary areas. Soon he looked like a child who fell off his bike with the amount of bandages on him. "Alright I think I got all of them," you smiled before taking off your gloves, "just be sure to let them heal and you can replace the bandages in the next few days if they fall off." You made sure to hand him a few extras as you knew combat and traveling would inevitably cause some of them to peel. "And try not to get any more cuts, I don't want my new record to be 11," you said before signing off the appropriate documents and sending him on his way. "Okay, bonnie but I might be seeing you around," he started as he got up, "gotta find more excuses to see your pretty face."

A peek into your relationship: You anxiously looked at your face in the mirror and adjusted your glasses. Today was the day your family would meet your boyfriend. "Nervous?" Johnny asked as he snuck up on you and nearly scared you have to death. "Yes!" you exclaimed before playfully hitting him on the shoulder. You had made sure everything was perfect, preparing some dishes from your childhood and relentlessly running through all the characteristics of your family with Johnny. "I come from a big family, sweetheart, don't worry" he said in an attempt to reassure you. But as you waited at the door, your nerves were unmatched. When the door opened, you saw your 5 older brothers and parents standing there. Your parents were overjoyed to see you but your brothers looked like they were about to eat your boyfriend alive. Your mother quickly ushered you to put down the trays of food and your brothers took Johnny aside for a little talk. As you chatted with your mom about some of the more recent events in your line of work, you could hear a mix of languages happening in the next room. You and your parents peaked your head in to see Johnny and your brothers fully engrossed in a conversation about the nuances of languages. "No you tube, its 'Pishin’ it doon out here'" you could hear your boyfriend say. Your brothers laughed before the oldest one replied, "why wouldn't you just say 'it's a downpour'?"

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep10: Kaiba Embarrasses Himself on International Television Again

We start off this duel by teasing us into believing that this is a part of a theme park:

The Kaiba theme park is a weird mix of actual horrorscapes and animal crossing cutesy stuff...you can really tell what parts were Mokuba and what parts were Seto in this park.

But Leon takes it well, just kinda standing there as he’s done this entire arc--being a general forgettable nice boy who just...doesn’t do anything. Like he gets up, he plays cards, he sits down. Having him on top of a rock with melodramatic Little Mermaid waves crashing at his feet is laughably the opposite of Leon’s whole vibe.

Leon just seems like the type that listens to coffee shop ambient Youtube videos when he wants to amp himself up. This kid appears to attend a private school...somewhere...I think, and just went to a dueling competition in his school outfit because he literally doesn’t have a style of his own hanging in his closet.

Like Yugi wears his school outfit, but he does that ironically, to off-set the amount of makeup and hair spray he has in his hair. Leon wears the school outfit maybe because he admires Yugi so much, but is like “time for my rogue bow I wear in my hair. That’ll scare my competition.” He completely missed the point of the 00′s alt school outfit scene.

I do way too much art to not see the imagery. I feel like this is half my job, and playing “where’s the hidden Freudian meaning?” is half the fun of going to any art museum.

(read more under the cut)

Anyway, Seto got tired of no one paying any attention to him, so he stepped out of his 14-monitor mancave, he very quickly pulled his Dragon outfit out of the (dirty) laundry, flicked a couple sea crabs out of his pockets, spritzed it with Febreeze and called it “good enough.”

Like, is it just me, or has dragon jacket greyed out a tad from last season? Like it’s starting to get a little...worn? Like what funk is coming off of Seto Kaiba right now?

Also notice that he brought his giant stash of cards to the duel. He’s going to put on this show as if he’s not going to pull out the giant stash of cards. But like...he’s going to pull out the giant stash of cards. Like Hell boring ass Leon is going to play his deck of Candyland characters again.

Leon is declared a winner on Technicality and it’s like.

Damn Seto, for reals?

So congrats, Leon, you did literally nothing, again, and yet you mystifyingly  persist on this show. Clearly you aren‘t going to grow a second head out of that ponytail like professor Quirrel in the last act of this arc.

That’s when Yugi’s hazy memory recalls something from the Before Times of “that time period before I was possessed by a needy ghost that eats up 3/4 of my memories and time.”

So Schroeder is Atari. Neat.

Also, this makes Zigfrieds outfits a hell ton more endearing when you realize he’s this Willy Wonka game company owner making toys for children. Kinda makes you wonder why Seto’s such a stick up the ass in comparison when it’s like--dude Kaiba, maybe you could learn a thing or two about whimsy. It could really help out your inconsistent park.

Anyway, Kaiba quickly realized who hacked the park and so, understandably, he asked Zigried to leave, which...backfired?

Y’all card culture is a lot. Everyone in the audience covered their faces in shame because they were so embarrassed by Seto Kaiba and I’m like...not sure why? Because he didn’t do a duel? Against this guy who snuck into his tourney not unlike Rex and Weevil? This asshole?

Recall that the last time Seto played a guy who had a fake name it was Marik freakin Ishtar and he killed a LOT of people (actually, it was Alister, pretending to be Pegasus, but he also killed a lot of people so that still tracks). Card culture can’t seem to learn from their mistakes, although Seto clearly sees the problem with dueling a professional hacker in a digital card game on a hologram that may or may not be able to murder you. At least its not a magic.

And so, tired of being humiliated on television, Seto decides to bust out the dueling gloves (well, not those gloves. You know what I meant) and use the equipment he BROUGHT WITH HIM and clearly never intended not to use in the first place.

(I hope you enjoy this dutch angle that wasn’t quite dutch enough, so it just looks like they’re lounging)

Roland patiently walks over from...somewhere? I don’t know where Roland comes from whenever he pops up, but he waltzed over to hold onto this suitcase as if that’s a formal part of his job.

I say this so often but like...I don’t know what Roland’s job is. He’s like a valet/butler/duel referee/duel cheerleader/CEO/and I will spend the rest of this series trying to understand it. Part of me is like...could Roland be a temp worker at an agency who just gets rehired for a different Kaiba Corp job every couple of weeks?

That weird ass fourthKaiba, I will never understand Roland.

Just one letter away from being a Zigfriend, Kaiba. Just one letter away. I know this because I misspell friend a LOT.

Zigfreind? Zigfriend? Damn it, both of them look the freakin same to me, this sucks! Why can’t I spell friend without autocorrect!?

Just the amount these two fight when Seto clearly barely even remembers who this guy even is.

Leon shows up in the seats, pretending that he’s totally cool about winning on a technicality right after Zigfried went on a rant about how shameful, irredeemable, and mortally embarrassing winning on technicalities are.

He seems to take it pretty well, smiling, sitting next to Rebecca, and then dissolving right into the background because this kid’s whole deal is being way too nice to exist on this show.

Y’all we just had that art meme where people were redrawing that “How to draw manga face” and guys...that’s what our anime used to look like.

I mean look at that uncomfortable chin there, that tapers in for some reason. Those eyes melting off of her face. The lack of any 3d sense. This was an anime ideal for a very, very long time.

Anyway, the “how to draw manga face” is a perfect masterpiece and never needs to change. (But it is fun to make fun of it although I guess the person that drew it was actually a kid, which makes sense from a publishing perspective to have a kid make a book about how to draw stuff for kids.)

We see a little flashback of Schroeder and why he hates Seto Kaiba, and can I just say, I kind of love this little outfit. Kind of a shame that it’s stuffed into a flashback.

Which is when we found out that Zigfried thinks Seto Kaiba did a plagiarism.

Which is hilarious because it was Gozaburo Kaiba who was plagiarizing Seto, so like...who did it first?

OK guys. Lets talk about this.

APPARENTLY, there was some sort of contest to work with Pegasus...kind of like an architecture contest (which is a thing, when a city is doing a big project, they send out a call, and big firms will compete to see who builds it) and I GOTTA know what Pegasus’ theme was.

Like did he say to all the little rich kid geniuses “I would like something that makes my cards ALIVE, can you do that?” Then when Pegasus got a hell ton of holograms and was he like “But ALIVE--it makes it alive, right boy?” And when he was shaking the hands of each stupid kid was he like “So if I hypothetically put my dead wife on a card and slapped it into the machine--could she EXIST. Like...enough? I just need her to legally exist is all, and not like..literally of course...but enough literally to be a sin against God, can you do that?”

I just want to know if Willy Wonka Wonderkid Von Schroeder had any idea he was creating a resurrection chamber for a dark wizard. Like he has no idea that he dodged getting his business bought straight from under him and his soul shoved into a card. And it’s not like Schroeder was going to abduct Yugi’s Grandpa and ensure that Yugi would be there to save him down the road. Like I’m pretty sure Schroeder would have been sacrificed waaay before that whole island contest even went down.

Zigfried got so freakin lucky. I can’t believe he’s mad. But then again...

...the man swims in milk pools so like...maybe his logic center is busted? Maybe he wanted to die in a horrific murder island? I don't know what Zigfried is into, but I do know that because Zigfried doesn’t have millennium rod powers linking him to the millennium eye--so would it have mattered? There’s destiny reasons that Pegasus chose Kaiba.

Course...we never found out where the scales ended up, have we? We think it’s Shadi, but have we seen Shadi bust those out since Season Zero?

Man that would be a good plot twist that will absolutely not happen.

Yo, make horse guy into a dark wizard, show, I dare you!

Anyway, that’s all for now, but if you want to read from the beginning, here’s the link:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[theaviskullguy]

Ink and Petals

@dapple-dualies-propaganda here's the au

Tattoo artist! Rider x Florist! Goggles

hope you enjoy!

---------

When was it not busy at Squid ink?

It was one of the top Tattoo Parlors in Inkopolis. and it was also on a pretty busy street. So, it got a lot of customers. Also the fact that one of the artists was a famous turfer.

Rider hadn't formerly retired, but he had eased out of playing Turf Wars. He had found other interests outside of the sport: Theater, art, reviewing old movies online... He still did Turf from time to time, albeit the adult league. He was too old for the more popular teen division.

So, he found a job as a tattoo artist. And he rather loved it. Not only did most of his friends consult him for tattoo advice (from where the best places are to good designs), but he also knew some gossip. One of his regulars had beef with her neighbor because he has a pet raccoon who keeps stealing her trash and Rider could NOT wait to hear more about this story.

Another thing was, well, Rider had seen some shit. From people covered head to toe in tats, to people eagerly wanting their first tattoo, even to shyer folk who wanted one to defy controlling parents or to mark something important.

None of that prepared Rider for the news he got when tattooing one of the customers. More specifically, Gloves.

You see, Gloves had been coming in for the past few days. They had wanted a pretty complicated butterfly tat, so for the last 3 days Rider has been exchanging stories with the resident enby about... pretty much anything.

This is how this exchange happened;

"So you remember Goggles, right?" Gloves asked.

Rider rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'd forget the guy who kept pulling down my pants?"

"Oh ha ha. Anyways, apparently he works at that flower shop now."

"...He what?"

"You heard me!" They said. "I went there yesterday to get something for a project and there was Goggles! He misses you, 'ya know!"

Rider was just. quiet. He hadn't talked to his crush in a while, contact dwindled when Rider stopped doing Turf as much. Never once did he think Goggles would miss him, but that was probably the self hatred talking.

"...I'll think about it." Was all Rider said.

The conversation continued like nothing happen; Gloves saying multiple cursed things and Rider sharing interesting stories he heard on his job. Time flew by and soon, the tattoo was done; a butterfly with the bi colors on one wing and the nb colors on the other. Rider was quite proud of it, and Gloves seemed to like it. They waved, and left the store, humming to themselves.

Rider looked at the clock. His shift ended in just a few minutes. He knew he had no other appointments that day, so he took to watching old recorded matches in his phone.

Those were over a decade ago. Yet he still remembered everything. His favorite part was still learning he won a match by such a small margin. It was just... amazing.

He sighed. Rider missed those battles. But he has to say, he missed his crush a bit more.

He clocked out, saying goodbye to the other employee-Cherry (business relationships were easy to maintain when your coworkers were your siblings), and headed towards the flower shop for more reasons than one.

Army had a performance the next day. And yeah, Rider knew it was romantic, but platonically giving your best friend flowers was always nice. Plus, he wanted an excuse to see Goggles again.

He looked into the shop-the blue inkling was nowhere to be seen, but then again neither was the front desk. So, Rider shrugged and stepped in.

The floral scent was strong, but not overwhelming. Plenty of blossoms lined the stands, along with tags of what the flowers were and what they meant.

Rider looked around, trying to remember which flowers Army liked again, when he heard a familiar, youthful voice.

"Hi! Need any help?"

The inkling turned around. Goggles had definitely changed since Rider last saw him; his tentacles were longer and in an actual bun, for once. His blue eyes still had that clarity, and he still had that goofy smile. Though he didn't seem to recognize Rider.

"Uhh... I'll be fine. I'm just trying to remember what flower my friend likes the most." He said, hoping his accent didn't give him away; there weren't many in Inkopolis with an Australian accent.

But, Goggles didn't seem to notice or care. "Oh, okay!"

Rider internally breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been awkward if Goggles recognized him.

He looked around the shop, before spotting a bouquet of lilies. He knew Army liked lilies. If they weren't his favorite flower, it'd be close enough.

Rider took a few of the bigger ones, and a few white roses for variety, and took them to the counter.

Goggles smiled. "This a special occasion?"

"Not exactly. Just, my friend's doing a performance for a musical and I wanted to get him something for it." Rider explained.

"What musical?" Gogs asked, arranging the flowers with a sheer, white ribbon tying them together.

"Hadestown. He got Eurydice."

"Oh! I went to go see it last night! Army's amazing at that role. He's your friend, right?"

Rider internally panicked, but calmed down after remembering he wasn't Army's only friend. "Yeah. We've been friends for a while now."

"Well, tell him I said hi!" He handed the bouquet to Rider. "On me, alright? It's for a friend anyways!"

Rider nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome!"

------

A few weeks went by. Rider occasionally stopped at the flower shop and got flowers for...well, no real reason. He'd use them to add color to his house, or give them to friends. He just wanted an excuse to see Goggles.

He'd talked to the blue inkling a bit more, too. He'd gotten into the business since, well, he really liked flowers, and he wanted a job where he could just...relax! He still did Turf, of course, but the Adult league was more serious than the teen one, and he just wanted to have fun instead of be expected to take a game seriously.

He still didn't recognize Rider. The yellow-green inkling was a bit hurt by this, to be honest.

Though, it was a bit startling when Goggles actually walked into Rider's work. And Rider was assigned to give Goggles his first tattoo: A blue jay on his shoulder, taking off from a branch.

This time, it was Goggles' turn to ask questions as Rider worked.

"Sooo.... you've been coming into my shop for a while and I still don't know your name!" The blue inkling stated. "I mean, you can probably recognize me though!"

Rider shrugged. "Well, who can forget Goggles of the Idiot Blue team?"

Goggles giggled. "You do know me! I still don't know you!!"

"...I can assure you, we've met before that day I got Army flowers." Rider said.

"Ooh! Can I try and guess who you are?"

"Ehh, why not."

"Okay! Umm..." Goggles thought for a moment. "Clams facemask?"

Rider shook his head. "Nope."

"Inkfall?"

"Wrong."

"Eging Jr?"

"Not even close there."

"Stealth Goggles?"

"Getting closer, I'll give you that."

"....Rider?" Goggles asked.

Rider chuckled. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Goggles smiled wide. "I finally found you! Hi Riri!"

"Hey, Gogs. It's been a while."

"Yeah! I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognize you, since we were pretty close!" Goggles stated.

Rider shrugged. "Well, I'm not the most memorable person anyways."

"Riderrrrr don't say that!" Goggles said. "You're still really popular!"

"To some people, maybe. Not everyone."

There was a tense silence, other than the hum of the tattoo needle as it made the drawing.

"....So." Goggles started again. "How's life?"

"It's...well, better than it was." Rider said. "Got my own place, for one. Though it gets a bit lonely.. You?"

"I'm still living in an apartment. I really want a roommate!" Goggles proclaimed. "Maybe we could move in together?"

"..I'll think about it, Gogs. Though it might be fun being your roommate."

"Really? Thanks Rider!" Goggled smiled.

The conversation grew more casual. Rider enjoyed it; turns out Goggles had his fair share of gossip. It was kinda cool.

And as the next few days passed, Rider looked forward to each of those sessions. His crush seemed to go from "this person would be fun to date i think" to "hOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS IM IN L O V E", and it didn't help that during those meetings, Goggles had to be shirtless.

The days turned into weeks and months. Goggles moved in with Rider, and the two became incredibly close friends.

And, it came to a head near valentines day. Goggles' shop was very busy, as expected. Luckily, Squid Ink wasn't as much.

So, on his day off, just before Valentines, Rider headed to the flower shop and got a bouquet of roses. Cliché to confess on Valentines day, Rider knew, but he's a pining gay cut him some slack.

And Rider came home right as Goggles was leaving for his shift. So, that left Rider with a good 3 hours to practice his confession.

"Alright, Rider. This has to be CASUAL. 'Hey, I've liked you for over a decade but just now had the confidence to confess!' No, too creepy sounding. 'Yo, Gogs. I really like you and maybe we could go out to dinner sometimes?' ...Too casual."

....Yeah, this went on for a while.

Rider groaned, collapsing his his bed. "I wish feelings were fucking easier...I should just call Army."

So, he grabbed his phone and selected the contact, Veronica Sawyer Kinnie

"C'mon, Army... pick up."

And not one ring later, "Rider, what is it?"

"...I need romantic help. Please." Rider asked.

"Look, just because I'm married to Aloha, doesn't mean I know how I ended up here."

"Yeah, I kinda know that." He stated. "Still. I really need some help."

Army sighed. "Who is it? It's totally that one person with the raccoon story-"

"Actually, no. It's, um.... It's Goggles."

The octoling on the other end of the line could be heard sighing. "Still a morosexual I see."

"OI! You're the one who married a fuckin himbo!"

".....Touché. Still, there's a difference."

Rider huffed. "Just... give me some advice. I wanna confess to him tomorrow but I've got no idea how. I'm giving him roses, but like, there's gotta be something more I could do, y'know?"

"Have you tried asking Prince?" Army suggested. "He is the one with the obsession with rom coms and romance novels."

"This is his exam period, Army. I'm not about to potentially interrupt a cram session by asking for romantic advice!"

"Fair enough. I'd say...well, just rip off the band aid. Like... 'Hey, Goggles, I really like you and was wondering if you'd like to be my boyfriend.'"

"...Thanks, Arm. I'll, uh, give it a try."

-------

Rider couldn't sleep that well. Mainly out of anticipation.

He was gonna confess to his crush of...over a decade, at least. He didn't fuckin know what was gonna happen!

Like, would Goggles reciprocate? Would he hate Rider after it? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD HAPPEN-

He sighed. He needed to get his mind off this shit.

Rider looked over to his bedside clock: 5AM. 5 hours before his shift. 5 hours to get his shit together and plan for confessing to the world's cutest but also dumbest man later that night.

C'mon, Rider. Think. Army said to rip it off like a band aid, but Goggles might find that a little sudden and out of the blue. He could write a letter and leave it for Goggles when he went to his shift (The flower shop was closed on Valentines day). That would be a safe option.

Rider sat up, and got out a piece of paper and pencil, writing a note.

"Hey, Goggles.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I really, really like you. As in, a crush.

I totally get it if you don't like me back, or think I'm weird, but hey, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out to dinner or something. Probably not tonight cause of Valentine's day but maybe tomorrow night or something.

-Rider"

Quickly, he folded it and wrote Goggles' name, putting a little heart sticker on it. It was corny, but hey, Rider had to use up those stickers somehow.

Rider attached it to the roses, and kept it on his desk.

And so, the morning went as normal. He had breakfast, got out of his pjs, put his hair up... the usual.

But as Rider left to go to work, he left the note and rose on the table, and left the house quickly.

During the day, he nearly forgotten all about it; He caught up with the gossip-Apparently the neighbor with the raccoon and the regular were now dating. So that was a nice little end to the story.

Squid Ink wasn't AS busy-probably because it was Valentines day, people were spending it with their lovers, not getting inked up (unless they made the appointment when single)

And it was near the end of Rider's shift when he heard his name mentioned. Probably someone making an appointment before he heard the familiar voice of Goggles going "Okay!!"

The blue inkling walked over to his station. "Hi Ridey!!"

"...Hey, Gogs. Getting another tat?" Rider asked, trying to keep his cool.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"A'ight anything specific in mind or-"

"Can I get just a simple quote one?"

Rider nodded. "Where do you want it?"

Goggles pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly. "Right here, please!"

"Okay. Just try to keep holding that down so I don't mess up.

-----

And so, tattoo conversations ensued.

The quote Goggles had wanted was a simple Pride one, that said "love is love". It was discreet, but a bit of it could be seen poking out if Goggles ever wore a v-neck.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Rider asked, trying to keep things subtle. Maybe Goggles hadn't read the note yet.

The blue inkling nodded. "Kinda! I had mental plans buuuuut nothing serious."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "Who with?"

"..I m-mean, I still have to ask him.." Goggles' face turned a shade of blue, and he averted his gaze.

"....Can I guess who he is?"

"If ya can!"

He smiled. "Does his name have an R in it?" Rider had a guess it was himself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!"

"Got an accent?"

"Yep!!"

"Is he doing your tattoo?"

"....y-yeah?" Goggles sheepishly smiled. "I'm n-not that discreet, am I?"

Rider chuckled, but on the inside he was screeching. "Honestly? I had no clue myself."

"Really? I've been dropping the most obvious hints!"

"...Like what?" Rider asked, now a bit curious.

"Welllll I've been picking movies you like during movie night, I've made sure to get your drink on coffee runs, Oh! And I offered to cook dinner that one time!" Goggles stated.

"...Damn. I'm just oblivious then." The former dynamo user laughed, before turning off the needle. "There. It's all done." Rider held up a mirror for the blue boy.

Goggles' face lit up. "Whoa! It looks amazing!!! Thanks Riri!"

Rider smiled. "You're welcome. Now, uh, ...did you read my note?"

"..Y-yeah, I did. And, um...I like you too Rider!!" The blue man pressed a small, quick kiss to Rider's cheek.

Rider blushed. "S-so, you'll let me t-take you out?"

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"I...thanks, Gogs."

"You're welcome Riri!!!"

----------

aAAAAA RUSHED END

but like. hope yall enjoy!

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

[wistfulwisteriawitch]

Arthur Morgan x Lilith Vallent OC: Vas Ura (My One)/ Vas Soluna (My Bonded) Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

I managed to get myself set up, knowing we’d actually be going after John since he was still missing. Attaching the leather over bust corset riddled with knives as well as the leather leg guards I exhaled, it would be interesting to see what they thought of our way of doing things but they seemed rather accepting thus far.

And as we moved to go out, Abigale grabbed my sleeve. “Miss Vallent?”

“Yes Abigale?”

“John…”

“Oh the gentleman that you said was your sons father?”

“Yes…”

Arthur had walked into the room and was warming himself by the fire. “Where’s little John gotten off to?”

“Arthur he hasn’t been seen in a couple days, I fear the worst.”

“John is fine, he gets himself out of scrapes all the time.” Arthur huffed. "Granted he could throw himself on the ground and miss so that's a feat in and of itself."

I cocked a brow, “I’ll go find him.” I pat her arm, “I can track him.”

Arthur groaned, “I’ll go with ya.”

“How kind.” I grinned as I walked by, Hosea nudged me as I sidled by with a smirk and a whispered thank you.

“I’ll come too!” Javier noted. “John would do the same for me and Arthur.”

“Sure, might be good considering the wolves.”

“Wolves?” Javier asked as we mounted up.

I nodded, after ensuring I had everything needed including shotgun with slugs. “Yes, alright you two, flank me, head forward in a V position, and try to keep it unless we head up the mountain, in that case line up.” With that I spurred Luna into a gallop. “Let’s go! Belladonna shadow!”

“Aye Milady!” And with that her horse charged off into the wilderness.

“Shadow?” Arthur inquired as we moved at a quick pace.

“She’ll scout ahead, and send Aristotle if she finds something.”

“And that is—“ A screech above as a Ferrugius Hawk soared past.

“She is skilled in Falconry, her family learned for many years in her home country. Normally their line uses Peregrine, but him...he's been with Belladonna alone, and each member has their own Falcon breed. Birds like that are the largest of hawks to be used for Falconry. And he is quite protective. She found him in Mexico.”

“Ha!” Javier seemed a bit stunned, “you all keep surprising us.”

“We are a surprising people. Javi.” I managed to find John’s trail and exhaled, “fuck he went up the mountain.” Just like the game.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “just like him to have someone dig his ass out of snow.”

I sighed, “Arthur take the middle, Javier take the front, I’ll watch the back.” And with a chiding look as he glanced over his shoulder. “This is what family does.” I noted as we lined up and began to trek up the mountainside, myself taking the end. “Javier do you see where the trail picks up?”

“Yes, he headed up this way.”

“We’ll have to leave the horses.” Arthur noted and I agreed, we got off and began to make our way further along a cliffside. “John!” Javi shouted.

“HELP! DOWN HERE!”

With that I took off, making sure to keep my movements swinging forward to help me trudge through the snow faster. “Mister Marston?” I called finding him on the ledge. “Awe poor puppy.”

“Puppy?! Who in the fuck are you?”

“A friend. Hold the fuck still. We don’t need you bleeding and bringing a bear. Wolves are a pain in the ass enough.” I gathered what I needed from my satchel and made him down a few tonics and salved him up with an antiseptic solution of old mans beard and golden thread. “That will have to do for now, I’ll need to draw any infection out at the cabin. Alright, come on.” I gripped under his arm and hauled him up. “Arthur!”

They were there reaching for him, Arthur laughing, “well now Marston, looks like ya got yer head ate by wolves. How much’a yer brains did they get?”

“Shut up Morgan.”

“You gonna have to come up with a better story for those scars.”

“Getting half eaten by wolves ain’t enough?”

“We got company gentlemen!” I shouted, ”Javier, Arthur— get him to the horses!”

“I got you.” Arthur had one shot down in seconds as the others charged down the slope.”

“BELLA!” A shrill whistle as a large hawk circled over head and dove into the eyes of one of the wolves screeching.

A black streak of horse and woman charged forward from behind us as she leapt off it's back, her body clad in leather padding as she took the tackle of a she-wolf head on while I dodged and sliced a death blow to a jugular. “Come on ya wee bitch!” Bella roared plunging a blade into it’s throat.

Aristotle soared high, blood splattering from his talons and across his feathers as Bella let out a snarl of glee when the final wolf was downed by a blade thunked into it’s throat.

Arthur shot down the final one, sighing and glancing at the two of us. “Remind me never to make her angry.” He mused as Bella ruffled Aristotle’s feathers and set him loose again, “that is a big bird.”

“He’s a beauty inn’e?” Bella asked fluffing her hair out and wiping blood off her face. “We ready?”

“Yes, John how you holding up?” I asked.

“Feel drunk.”

“Good that means it’s working.”

“Oh joy.” Was the sarcastic reply.

We managed to make it down the mountain, Belladonna staying to get the meat and pelts from the wolves.

“She gonna be alright?” Javier asked.

“Worry about the woodland creatures who piss her off.” I laughed.

“Bella?” Belial asked as we rode in, “ah…hunting.” He chuckled and walked off back towards the kitchen area.

Arthur sighed and leaned over to speak to me, “watch the golden boy not get a scolding despite holding up a job.”

Dutch of course was ecstatic John was back and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Siblings?” I asked smiling.

“We both was raised by Dutch and Hosea. They taught us to read.”

“Awe, I can see that.” I smiled wide at him, and he returned with a shy smile back. He gets a bit of a playful look, “you know for someone so small you sure as hell take up a lot of space.” He sniffs and cocks a brow.

“You know for someone so big you can curl up on the edge of a bed real easy. Next time just huggle-up and I won’t have to latch on like a damn possum.”

It was the first time he genuinely laughed. “I’ll remember that little wolf.” He was glancing over my gear and had a look of confusion.

“Leather, protects quite well.”

“What ya goin to war?” He poked my arm guards and outer leg guards as well as the leather corset flicking a knife handle.

“Life is war.” I tilted my head.

“Hmph, ain’t that just bout right.”

As I was about to ask what he meant Belladonna zoomed into camp with furs and blood all over her. “I’m back!” She said prancing off her stallion Bairn.

I chuckled, “welcome back sister.”

“Didja see the pelt on that she-wolf?” She crowed tugging it off her horse, “it’s like ya hair milady, I should make a new cloak and we can trade.”

“I would like that thank you Bella.” She grinned and whistled for Aristotle who landed on her thickly gloved forearm. “There’s a good boy.”

Everyone in camp balked.

“Wah ya never seen’a damn bird afore?” She scoffed. “Come on pretty boy.” She was feeding him strips of wolf, “lessee what ya da is up ta.”

I rolled my eyes. “You get used to her.”

“Body can get used to anything…”

“Even hanging.” I finished and we laughed walking over to Hosea and Dutch.

“Got anymore maidens that need saving?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Hosea chuckled. “Thanks you three.”

“Javier tipped his hat and walked off as Arthur joined me in the cabin where Abigale tended to Marston.

“Alright, lemme work.” I shooed most people away, and grinned. “Marston this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Ya aint gotta look like ya gonna enjoy it!”

Arthur chuckled, “I will.”

“Of course you would.” John muttered.

I forced willow bark tea down his throat, irrigated the wound with stinging solutions of horsetail and once it was cleaned I made a salve and packed it with bandages. “Don’t touch it. You’ll have a mark but congratulations you were chosen to bear them by a powerful creature. In our ways it means you are protected.”

“Sure felt like that when they bit me.”

“They could have killed you.” I said softly. “But they did not. They left. Think upon that. I do not play with coincidence or dice to tell me my fate rather that things happen for a reason.”

John pondered and cracked a slight grin. “Guess so.”

“Either way, get rest, I shall have Bel bring food, you need to gather your strength to heal.”

“Thank you.” Abigale clutched my hand tight and I nodded, “let Jack see his Pa.” I leveled a gaze at John, “I am sure he was quite worried for his father.”

John seemed to squirm under my direct gaze and I softened it before leaving.

“What was that?”

“It seemed there was some tension in regards to little Jack.” I said.

“That obvious?” Arthur huffed an annoyed sound.

“Yes, but Marston is young, he can learn.”

Arthur glanced me up and down, “hm.” Was all he said.

I really wished I could get into his head sometimes.

— - - - - - - - - - - -

Arthur grumbled, “some people learn too late.” And he walked away, his chest heavy with memories long past. “Other’s should be so lucky.”

She caught his hand, “Arthur, despite that lessons can be passed down to prevent more pain.” Her voice is soft, and that damned look she gives him— it’s not pity, he couldn’t stand it if it was but this is somehow worse— she has an air of understanding, an acceptance about her with him as if whatever he lays at her feet is perfectly fine.

“Maybe so.”

That hand retreats, she seems to be thinking as she chews her bottom lip looking at her feet for a moment.

“S-sorry I know I probably—“

“S’fine.” He assured her rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a hang up he and I have had.”

Lilith nodded, “my brother and I had something similar happen.”

“Oh?”

“Yes…but we managed to talk it out.” Arthur lets out a bark of harsh laughter.

“Me and him? Talk? Shoot, ya ain’t known us long but ya gonna see that’s a bit hard for us Van der Linde boys.”

“Oh that’s plain as day Mister Morgan. But as I said, everyone can learn.” A wink as she sauntered off.

“Damn woman.” He grumbles to himself striking a match on his boot to light up a smoke. He couldn’t make heads or tails of her as she checked in with Dutch and asked him several questions, Dutch did seem to be in a better mood, and she was always checking in with him— she said the word was deference. She acknowledged he was leader. But she herself led the two people she had.

Arthur had to admit the way she did things did scream leadership. It was rare to see such things. There wasn’t anything she herself wouldn’t do that she’d ask of others. Mucking a stall, hunting, ensuring people were clothed, mending, healing…Dutch hadn’t done that for a long time but he did get his hands dirty when needed.

It further solidified Arthur’s ideology that if women ran shit it might be a mite better, he glanced at Susan who was chatting with Hosea before she went off to screech at someone for not working hard enough.

Belladonna walked up to him and grinned, offering her hawk, “wanna pet’im, seems ta like ya.”

Arthur was never one to pass up petting an animal.

Shit he’d pet a bear if it wouldn’t rip his damn arm off.

“Sure, Aristotle was it?”

“Mmhm. He had many ideas of the stars that man. Mi’lady said it suited because this hawk could damn near fly to them with these wings.” She kissed the hawk who let out a little chirping sound as Arthur placed a warm finger against it’s chest feathers. The big raptor fluffed his feathers and crooned, leaning forward and nudging Arthur’s hand.

“Here, he likes meat.”

“Here boy.” Aristotle took the piece and gulped it down and flapped his wings before Bella let him go. “He just nests somewhere?”

“Oh aye, he has a mate somewhere, but I canna catch her, she is too fierce. But she hunts with him and has never left his side. They keep the same mates their whole life.” She smiled up at the sky and sure enough, a smaller hawk circled with him swooping and gliding. “Quite a sight.”

“Sure is.” Arthur grinned. “You all keep any other animals?”

“Oh aye, you should see the family wolves.”

Arthur paused as he walked by, “beg pardon?” He furrowed his brow.

“Milady found a pack of wolves who’s cubs were abandoned. She took them all in, they are the sweetest, deadly, but they are the comfiest things to snuggle with. Sometimes all four of them are with her.”

“And these are….ah…”

“No here. They in the wilds probably hunting, somewhere up north west in the Grizzlies. They look different, no from here. Timber wolves from the west. Darker coats. Then the wolf dogs…all except for Talla—they look like they wolf kin. She is almost a strawberry color but she’s half wolf and half some big dog from Alaska.”

“Been round a lot.”

“Aye, we been all over. The wolves are bout five or so now. Talla and her siblings are with her brothers, she breeds them.”

“Breeds wolves.”

“Just for the family.”

“Ah.” This family got weirder and weirder, “they guard? The wolves not the half breed ones.”

“No no, wolves are quite timid despite people thinking they fierce, unless the family is attacked, they no just go about attacking randomly, Talla and her siblings though, they were bred with a type’a dog that will protect their master anywhere, any time. Talla especially, her mate is a full wolf, but she is far fiercer than he.”

Arthur laughed, “you talk like they people.”

“You talk to yer horse like it’s people.”

She had him there. He kicked at the snow. “Never knew an animal to dislike it.”

Belladonna grinned, “you ken for a scary bastard, ye pretty nice.”

“Don’t know nuthin bout that.” Arthur snorted as he walked off.

Dinner was a lighter affair now that John was back, everyone celebrated with some whiskey and a meal of wolf steaks and deer meat. Arthur watched as everyone milled around, chatted, and tried to liven their spirits, the deaths of ones close still loomed— as did the damn frost.

Some spring this turned out to be.

He glanced at the three strangers who had dropped into their lives as he scribbled.

It is rather strange to be in the company of wolves.

I find that they are a gentle people unless provoked, despite their appearances, the females are far more aggressive then their male counterparts, as Belial seems to have a very playful nature, they all do in fact. Shoving at one another as they walk in the snow to push the other into a drift. Or leaping onto one another’s backs as they run off.

I have only seen wolves play once, when I came across a den by accident when the welping season came. Indulgent and confident in my spot I had used binoculars to watch a game of tag played by the pack. It is of similar air.

Hosea is doing alright, but I know the dark haired woman named Lilith is concerned, he is coughing a lot, and his breathing is labored, he stays indoors mostly under her direction, and she’s been shoving tonics into his mouth whenever he allows it. Seeming hell bent on keeping him alive.

John is alright, a pain in my backside still, but he’s lucky to be alive. … We all are.

Not sure what in hell happened on that boat, but whatever it was it weren’t good. Charles heard that a girl died. Dutch outright shot her…saying it needed to be done….

That ain’t like him…

The red head reminds me of Sean, I wonder where that Irish bastard got off to. Knowing him he’s probably found trouble. Davey…Jenny….Both gone in a matter of weeks….We lost folks before but not like this— so needlessly. They are calling it the Blackwater Massacre.

This family is strange, stranger still is the kindness they show everyone. It is gentle, despite their steel hard spines and unwavering eyes…unnerving eyes.

Eyes that gleam when they look at ya, like a beast’s catching firelight in the dark.

She looked at Micah as if he were nothing but an ant to be pitied for facing a mountain.

Wonder what that’s like….ain’t never said I was confident, I can fight with the best of em…

But I have a feeling this woman could give me a run for my money…

Half inclined to piss her off and find out…

[ballumsecretvalentine]

A Little Bit of Spice

For @benthighway​! I loved reading your angst and AU’s so I am thrilled to gift you a Restaurant AU! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

“Hiya. Is Shirley around?”

“Who’s askin’?”

Ben fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m Ben, the new host.”

“Oh, yeah.” The woman’s entire demeanor changed. “Sorry ‘bout that. Sometimes some shady folk come ‘round looking for Shirl. Gotta man the door, y’know?”

Ben smiled with a nod, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

“Well, anyway, I’m Whitney.” She offered her hand and a surprisingly firm handshake. “I run the front of the house here, so we’ll be working together a lot. You got a tour on your interview?”

Ben nodded again, taking off his coat and straightening his tie. When Shirley had told him a uniform would be required, he almost walked out. When he saw one of the waiters in the uniform looking hotter than Hades, he figured he could give it a go.

With Whitney giving him an obvious once over, he knew he fit the bill.

“I’ll show ya the break room. You get a locker an’ all that, then you can meet everyone quick. You’ll be shadowing me tonight. Gotta learn from the best an’ all.”

Ben laughed and followed her to the back. She seemed harmless enough, pretty girl but trying way too hard. He’d make his preferences clear in due time.

After hanging up his coat in a locker and going through the process of punching in and out for a shift, Whitney led the way into the kitchen, a swarm of hustling bodies and loud voices.

No competition for her, though.

“Hey, arseholes!”

The entire kitchen stilled and looked to them. Ben was immediately impressed. She commanded the room like the captain of ship. Only she did it with fake nails and four-inch heels.

“This ‘ere is Ben. New host. Be nice, introduce yourselves and don’t bloody drop anything tonight.” Whitney glared at a skinny, blonde guy who made a face and turned right around, getting back to work.

With that, the action returned, and Ben was practically chasing Whitney as she went back out front.

He was grateful when two hours later the doors opened, and the customers flooded in. He could only take so much talk of napkins and cutlery before he’d wanted to chop off his ear with a salad fork.

Most of the customers were lovely, sopping up his charm like sponges, but there were always those dining who thought they knew better than everyone else.

“This isn’t medium rare. It’s medium.”

Ben smiled even though it hurt his face to do so. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take care of that for you.”

Practically stomping into the kitchen, teeth clenched tight with curses sliding through, he tossed the plate down in front of the nearest chef and said, “Gordon Ramsey out there says this isn’t medium rare.”

“Oh, alright. Not really Gordon Ramsey though, right? Think I’d piss myself if it was.”

Ben looked up and found himself speechless, a feat he didn’t think possible. The kindest smile and the most gentle set of eyes met his.

He cleared his throat and tried to get a grip. “Nah, mate. Not tonight.”

The other man laughed, prepping another steak. Without looking up from his workstation he asked, “are you the new guy Whit was yelling about?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Ben. Mitchell.”

“Callum Highway. I’d shake your hand but,” he held up a filthy, gloved hand.

Ben laughed and shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ben. Here ya go.” He slid a new steak across the counter. “May Gordon be kind.”

Ben’s heart raced as a blush crossed his cheeks against his will. “We can only hope.”

The rest of the evening went by without a hitch. The customers seemed to enjoy him, and he could tell Whitney was impressed with how quickly he fell into his new role. The few times Ben had to return to the kitchen, he went out of his way to catch a glimpse of Callum.

The man was tall, an immediate yes in Ben’s book, with those bright eyes and that wide smile. His shoulders were broad, and Ben’s thoughts had wandered to the nasty, wondering if that sturdy frame could hold his in those big paws he had.

Everyone seemed to like him, giving him pats on the shoulder and sharing jokes, so it was clear the man really was as nice as he seemed.

Determined to learn more about the cook, Ben said his goodbyes to Whitney and the other front-end staff and collected his stuff from the back. He popped into the kitchen, hoping to catch Callum before he left for the night but, stood at his station, Callum was laughing, with Whitney wiping something off his cheek, head tilted and smile full of flirtation.

Dammit, Ben thought. The radar must be broken.

******

The next night went much the same, Ben working on memorizing some of the menu items as well as the variety of wines the restaurant was trying to push. There was a noticeable lack of miserable customers which was wonderful, of course, except it meant he had no good reason to go into the kitchen. The pull to see Callum, to chat with him again, was something Ben wasn’t used to. It had been years since he’d felt more than just a surface attraction to another bloke.

This felt different.

And Callum was straight.

“Hey, Mitchell!”

Ben spun round at his name to a beaming Whitney. “Excellent job tonight. You’re catching on quick.”

He pulled on his coat and smiled in return. “Thanks. So far so good.”

“Listen, a bunch of us are goin’ for drinks. You interested?”

Ben thought about it, knew he needed to make some new mates here in Walford, but then he caught an eyeful of Callum, waiting patiently by the door, twiddling a hat between his hands. The idea of watching the two of them all over each other all night while the drinks flowed made him queasy.

With a sigh he said, “nah, I’m knackered. Next time though, yeah?”

Whitney nodded. “Suit yourself. Have a good night, then.”

He watched her leave, getting a small wave from Callum before the two of them headed out the door, Callum throwing his arm around Whitney’s shoulders as they left. Bopping his head lightly against his locker, he closed his eyes and groaned. First time attracted to someone again and it’s gotta be at work and with a bloke who don’t fancy men.

You pick ‘em well, Ben.

******

A few weeks later, after a few particularly boring days off, Ben found himself at the local, a nice little place everyone called the Vic. He was propping up the bar, feeling a bit sorry for himself, a damn bit lonely, too, when another pint appeared in front of him.

“I didn’t order another yet, mate.”

“S’alright,” the barkeep smiled. “From that one over there.” He tilted his head to the side and Ben melted where he sat when Callum lifted his glass.

Taking a deep breath, Ben stood with his fresh pint in hand and met Callum at one of the tables.

“Cheers for this.”

Callum shrugged. “No problem. It’s tough bein’ new ‘ere. Everyone already knows each other. Kinda tough to break the ice.”

Ben nodded, taking a sip and licking the foam off his lip. “You sound like you can relate.”

“Yeah, I only moved ‘ere ‘bout a year ago. My brother lives ‘ere and thought I’d like it.”

Ben took another drink, ignoring the heat choking him under his collar. Just being near Callum, listening to his voice and seeing the way his eyes sparkled up close was doing his head in.

“How’d you start cooking?”

Another big smile. “The army. I wasn’t in long, but I cooked quite a bit there; learned a lot.”

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Ben double checked. “Army?”

Callum had pride smeared across his mouth. “Yep. Not as soft as I look, y’know.”

Ben coughed on his drink, Callum giving him a few pats on the back in concern, missing what Ben felt was an obvious inuendo.

The rest of the evening was spent sharing stories and a few more drinks. Turned out they both came from fathers they’d prefer not to see again and mothers who tried their hardest but never seemed to get it right.

When Ben’s vision started getting blurry around the edges, the conversation shifted into talk of relationships. Callum seemed to shrug it off. “I’ve got, like, no experience, mate.”

Ben gave his shoulder a gentle shove. “Aw, c’mon. All them sights you seen in the army, never picked up a date or a shag?”

Callum laughed again, mouth open wide and so pure, Ben stared in awe. If Callum was being honest, which he seemed damn near incapable of being anything but, it just didn’t make sense. Why would no one pick him up? He was bloody gorgeous and sweet, tall and strong, and those hands—

“I can’t just hook up with someone. Not my style.”

Ben couldn��t help but wonder why Callum wasn’t telling him about Whitney. Objectively, even though he certainly wasn’t interested, she was sharp and beautiful, a good catch for any bloke.

“No one catching your eye at work, then?”

Callum’s head snapped with what Ben thought looked a bit like fear on his face. “I dunno what you mean.”

Ben shrugged, taking a drink and trying to steady his hands. He’s usually much smoother than this, easily chatting up any bloke he fancied, not afraid of an honest conversation.

But, fuck, Callum made him nervous.

He cleared his throat and put on his best teasing face. “Mate, everyone’s got a thing for someone they work with. That what it is? One of the waitresses catch your eye?”

He winked dramatically, trying desperately to downplay his nerves. It was like ripping off a plaster, right? Hearing Callum talking about Whitney directly would be better than drawing it out. That way he’d get over this ridiculous crush and move on.

“Nah. Most of them’s married, you know.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ben mumbled, “wouldn’t ‘ave stopped me.”

The look of judgement that was thrown his way made Ben want to disappear into the floor. He didn’t know why he said that, he’d never been with a married man before, and he could actually see Callum losing respect for him by the second.

“Is that your deal, Ben? Mess around with whoever you like? Don’t matter if they’ve got someone waiting at home?”

Scoffing, Ben finished his pint. “Yep. I like ‘em tall, dark and silent, Callum. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

It was definitely the booze brandishing some liquid courage, but Ben was fuming. He made one stupid, off handed comment and that was all it took to be judged once again. And why the hell wouldn’t Callum mention Whitney? What was the big bloody deal? He’d been at the restaurant less than a week and could name a handful of people screwing around. What made them special?

He threw a bunch of cash on the table, not bothering to count it, and headed out into the cold January night. All he’d wanted was a quiet drink. A mate or two. A job. A fresh start.

But then Callum bloody Highway had to muck it all up.

******

When the hangover started fading the next day, Ben seriously debated calling in. He wasn’t a coward; he’d always faced up to his shit in the past. Callum, though, made him feel…vulnerable.

He hated it.

Ultimately, his brain voted in favor of a paycheck so he forced his body up, took the longest, hottest shower he could handle. Feeling close to human again, he got himself dressed and picked a pair of too tight trousers to go with his uniform. He’d be worried about ripping ‘em all night but he’d look damn good doing it.

Feigning confidence and nonchalance, he moved through his shift like a man with no worries, no concerns. But all night he kept an eye on Callum and could have sworn Callum was watching him in return.

As the last of the customers were finishing up, Ben used the quiet to debate his next move. Something was sitting uncomfortably in his gut, churning and tossing with the idea of Callum thinking less of him, especially over some nonsense comment. He could try pretending it never happened, picking up a conversation like they never stopped speaking. Or, and this would be horribly unpleasant, he could just be honest.

I’ve got a crush and it made me word vomit absolute bullshit and I’m sorry.

Shockingly, he decided the truth was the only safe way to go. They’d worked together for a bit now and, if Callum was weird after the confession, they didn’t have to see each other that often anyway. Plus, Ben reasoned, Callum was too nice to be that petty. He pictured the chef now, smiling and shaking his head at Ben’s stupidity, laughing it off.

Decision made, Ben headed into the kitchen, ready to confess.

Regretting it instantly, Ben stood frozen with his hand holding open the swinging door as he watched Callum holding Whitney close to his chest, lips on hers and eyes closed tight.

Feeling lightheaded, he put too much weight on the door, making it bang into the wall behind it. Whitney and Callum jumped apart, both with surprise on their faces. Ben scoffed, confused as to why two people going at it in the wide open would be shocked when someone walked in.

“Ben, it’s not what it looks like, okay?” Whitney wiped the back of her mouth with her perfectly manicured hand and moved away from Callum who looked about a minute away from passing out.

Ben just shook his head and headed to the break room, thoughts of the Albert and a warm body for a distraction running through his head. He stared at Callum, looking small and blushing the color of a rose, when he said, “don’t worry about it. Everyone’s got a thing for someone they work with, right?”

He bit his lip, willing the embarrassment and disappointment away. He threw on his coat and called a cab. There were plenty of fish in the damn sea.

******

As soon as he sat down with a pint, it was like moths to a flame. One after another, blokes of all shapes and sizes came to chat him up. It definitely helped build the ego back up, but he cursed himself as each one did nothing to light that spark.

They were all too short or way too tall. Too arrogant or too quiet. They tried too hard to make him laugh or put on moves that had him grimacing into his drink.

A few hours later, he was well drunk and thinking about his bed. He felt old and ridiculous then, sat in a bar with music blaring and lights flashing, blokes throwing themselves at him left, right and center, but he’s daydreaming about sweatpants and warm blankets and soft pillows.

Oh, and of course the man with the most genuine laugh, and thoughtful eyes, most stunning smile.

Ben rubbed his face, willing images of Callum away with the pressure, and signaled to the bartender for the tab.

“Leaving already?”

He tensed, concerned he’d had so much to drink he was hallucinating that voice in a gay bar.

Even in the dim light, Callum was beautiful.

Ben let out a breath and stared blankly behind the bar, trying and failing to sober up. “What are you doing here?”

He saw Callum’s shoulders rise and fall from the corner of his eye. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Smiling at the bartender, Ben signed for his bill and turned in his seat. “Don’t bullshit me. I’m not gonna say anything about you and Whitney, alright? What you do is your business.”

Callum shook his head but Ben was out of his seat and calling a taxi before he could say anything. Outside, his breath moved in a cloud in front of his face and he buttoned up his coat. He would freeze in this weather but there was no way he could sit next to Callum for another second.

“Hey.”

Ben groaned, frustration overcoming his buzz.

“What, Callum? What?”

“You got it wrong, okay? What you saw today, at work, it-it wasn’t what it looked like.”

Ben made a face. “Yeah, Whitney already said that. I’m sure I just got confused. I mean, that’s how I say goodbye to folks. With my tongue.”

Callum threw his head back with a sound that came out like a growl. “That’s not what I mean! God, Ben, what is your problem?”

“I liked ya!”

Ben’s confession hung in the air, stuck between the two of them. His chest felt tight and his eyes stung, a sensation he refused to allow to win.

He turned, looking up the street and praying to the universe for his cab to suddenly appear. He’d give it just another minute or so before he’d be walking home. Maybe he’d get lucky and the bloody cab would just run him over.

“I-I don’t understand.”

Laughing, Ben met Callum’s eye. “I’m gay, Callum. And I like ya. Sorry I’m not interested in seeing you with other people.”

Huffing, he started to move, feet going numb and hands burning from the cold. Ben turned his collar up and dug his hands deep into his pockets.

He heard feet on the pavement jogging to catch up. “But, the other night. You were talking about—”

“Jesus, Callum!” He spun around so quickly Callum stumbled over his own feet, giving Ben a wide berth. “I just wanted you to keep talking. And we were drinking. And you make me bloody stupid! I’ve never been with a married man before, it just came out. But you shut down, judging me, making me feel—”

“I wasn’t judging!”

Ben scoffed and started walking again.

“Ben, wait!”

“I’ll see ya at work, Callum.” He turned back, walking backwards up the street. “And, no worries. Your secret’s safe with me!”

If he spent that night shivering alone in his bed, holding a pillow tight and feeling completely empty, it was no one’s business.  

******

Ben woke the next day with puffy eyes and a sore throat to discover, in horror, that it was Valentine’s Day. He’d barely slept at all, embarrassment and regret running through his mind all night. He downed a glass of water with a slice of dry toast while planning the phone call to play hooky from work when the bell rang.

On the other side of the door sat the largest stuffed bear Ben had ever seen holding a single red rose. He looked up and down the street, forgetting in his confusion he was in nothing but his underwear, searching for whoever dropped the stupid thing off at the wrong address. When no one was in sight, he groaned and mumbled to himself about inept delivery drivers as he hauled the brown bear into his flat.

With the distraction of the bear, Ben had lost track of time and found it was too late to call out of his shift. He showered quickly and threw on what he hoped were some clean clothes. As he headed out the door, a tag hanging from the bear’s big ear caught his eye; he hadn’t seen it earlier. Flipping it over he read:

Ben,

I hope this is a Valentine’s Day you won’t forget.

Your Secret Admirer

He froze, excitement and nerves churning in his gut. Was this real? Was someone messing with him? Who the hell would take the time to send something like this? And to him, no less.

Yanking the tag off the animal, Ben read it once more before shoving it in his pocket. He’d worry about it all later.

******

The restaurant was absolutely slammed that night, the holiday filling their patrons with romance and generosity. Ben found himself forgetting about the tag in his pocket and focusing on the money filling them instead.

On his break, he popped into his locker and almost got knocked out when something shiny, covered in cellophane fell out. He stared at the offending object, a red, heart shaped box, and looked around the room, starting to get worried he was being pranked.

Carefully, he picked it up and peeled away the wrapper. Inside, were a handful of fancy and, he learned later, delicious chocolate truffles. Inside the cover of the box was a scribbled note.

Ben,

A little pre-dinner snack. Don’t work too hard tonight.

Your Secret Admirer

His heart raced and his cheeks flushed. Pre-dinner snack? Like, a date? Or was it just that this person knew he’d be opening the gift before he ate?

Again, he looked around the space. The bear could have been ignored but now he was definitely getting curious. As he went back onto the floor, he looked at each of his co-workers in a different light. He realized he hadn’t made his preferences known to everyone so there was a good chance he might actually be hurting someone’s feelings tonight and a disaster would ensue.

No one seemed to be looking at him any differently, though. Lee gave him a polite nod and Mick asked if he had any plans for the night of romance. He knew Whitney and Callum were out of the running and annoyed himself briefly with visions of their sexy Valentine’s night. The rest of the kitchen and wait staff were nice but no one stuck out; no one had blatantly flirted.

With a sigh, Ben decided he was just being pranked, give the new guy a hard time kind of thing. No one knew him well enough to like him let alone admirer him. He’d grab his stuff as soon as his shift was over, stop and get a bottle of something nice for himself and then head home. Maybe watch a slasher film or something.

The night finally came to an end, the love in the air eventually becoming too overwhelming for Ben to stomach. He stuck to his plan, making a beeline for his coat and heading out the back door. What greeted him outside stopped him dead in his tracks.

Callum stood in front of him, nervous smile on his face and a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. Exhausted and so disappointed, Ben could only offer a nod. “Have a good night, mate. She’ll love ‘em.”

Before he could walk away, a large hand turned him around and roses were being shoved under his nose. “For you, Ben.”

In slow motion, with a pitiful expression on his face, Ben took hold of the flowers and looked at Callum. “I don’t get it.”

Callum laughed and shook his head. “We have to start over, Ben. I’ve messed this up since day one but it’s Valentine’s, so I figured I’d just go for it.”

With a shake of his head Ben asked, “go for what?”

“You can be so thick. You, ya idiot.”

In his confusion, Ben tried giving the flowers back. “But you’re with Whitney.”

Callum stepped forward, gently pushing the flowers back into Ben’s chest. “You saw me panic, Ben. Whitney and Lee have been dating for months now.”

“Okay, remember when you called me thick?”

With a laugh that sent a shiver through Ben, he explained. “I’ve been thinking that I’m, well, not exactly straight, for a while now but no one was catching my eye enough to test that theory, ya know? Then you walked in the kitchen on your first night and it was like a switch went off. Yep, I’m gay.”

They both laughed and Ben found himself relaxing, allowing himself to hope this was all real. “But that scared me. And then you were so, I dunno, bold? When we had drinks that night, remember? And I just felt unsure. So the next day, Whit was talking to me and being real nice, she’s one of my best friends, and I kissed her like the moron I am. You just ‘appened to walk in before she could give me a slap.”

“You know I got blasted that night at the Vic ‘cause I convinced myself you two were together.”

“What?”

Ben bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah. I figured you two were together and I didn’t stand a chance, so I drank too much and the muck started fallin’ outta my mouth.”

They stood together in the dark alley sharing breath and laughs for a few minutes. Eventually Ben looked at his hands, clenched tightly around the first flowers he’d ever received, and wondered what was next.

“Ben?”

He looked up and met Callum’s beautiful, blue eyes.

“Hmm?”

“I’m gay.”

Ben laughed again. “Okay.”

“And I like ya.”

Wrapping his arms around Callum’s waist, Ben moved in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, still in complete disbelief this was actually happening. With foreheads resting against one another and lips turned up in matching grins, Ben whispered, “I like ya, too.”

With a satisfied sigh, Callum stood tall and offered his hand to Ben. “I thought I’d be crazy and made us reservations at that Italian place around the corner.”

“Whoa, big man. Very bold of ya,” Ben teased with eyebrow raised.

Callum leaned down and kissed Ben once again, gentle and soft and filled with the promise of so much more.

“C’mon, let’s get this date started.”

Ben smiled, pulling Callum in close by the waist and melting into the strong arm thrown over his shoulders, flowers swinging happily by his side.

“Let’s.”

[captainkippen]

RECKLESS • A PUNK! TYRUS AU

Summary: 

RATED TEEN for smoking and swearing. 

TJ never expected to fall in love with a guy who hung out in the library for fun. Cyrus never expected to kiss a guy in the middle of a mosh pit. Once in a while, life surprises everybody. 

Chapter One: Respect The Tub

"Shut up. I'm having a mid-life crisis."

"You're twenty-one."

"Fine, an almost-quarter-life crisis or something, whatever."

"You know, I've seen you overreact before, but this time really takes the cake. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Pfft. It's a great idea. The best idea I've ever had."

"You literally just said yourself that you're having a crisis."

TJ let out a long suffering sigh and glared at Marty. Andi snickered from where she was perched on the edge of the tub behind him. She had two gloved hands covered in bright red sludge buried deep in TJ's hair.

"Don't worry, Marts," she said. "I used to help Bex do her hair all the time when she got bored. Well… one time. If it goes wrong, we can just cut it off. Hair grows back usually."

"Usually?!" TJ spluttered, attempting to turn and face her only to be held in place by her firm grip.

Marty snorted. "Still sure about this?"

"Shut up, Marty. Jeez. You're worse than my mom."

"Hey, your shut your mouth about your mom. That woman is a saint. How she put up with your annoying all these years without committing murder, I’ll never know."

That earned him the bird and he snorted again, blowing smoke into T.J's face. The bathroom of their crappy apartment didn't have a smoke detector, which was probably the only reason Marty was even sat in the room with them. 

"Gross," Andi said with an appreciative smile. She might have stolen the cigarette for herself had her hands not been busy. TJ wrinkled his nose at the two of them. He wouldn't say anything, it hadn't worked the first thousand times and it wouldn't work now, but he had learned that if he made enough disgusted faces Marty would eventually put the cigarettes away.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes at TJ's face and stubbed it out in the sink. "I'm meant to be quitting anyway. I promised Buffy."

"You made that promise like three months ago."

"Well I gotta have at least one flaw, otherwise it wouldn't be fair to you mere mortals, would it now?" Marty grinned and stood up, stretching his arms up until his back gave a satisfying click. 

"Careful bro," TJ said. "If your head gets any bigger you won't be able to get out of the door."

It was Marty's turn to cheerfully flip him off. As he wandered out of the bathroom he called over his shoulder asking if they wanted any snacks, even though TJ was pretty sure he knew they only had ketchup and coffee left in the kitchen.

"So, this mid-life crisis of yours," Andi said, slipping some more dye on to TJ's head. It slid against his scalp cold and unpleasant, dripping down his neck in a wet mess. "You think Epic Death Red is gonna fix it?"

He considered this for a moment. The brand name was splashed bright and obvious on the bottle, and it glared at him from the sink. It had made them laugh at the time, but now it was in his hair it felt a little daunting. "Nah, probably not. But it'll make me feel better about it, feels productive."

"Turning in your assignments would probably feel more productive."

"Hey, I thought we banned school talk from the tub. The tub rules are sacred. Respect the tub."

"I'm just saying-"

"Did you finish your figure drawing assignment yet?"

"...touché."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Marty loped back in holding a paper plate with an unwrapped Twinkie carefully cut into three pieces on it. Andi let him shove a piece unceremoniously into her mouth without a word.

It had become a sort of tradition. Well... not a tradition. TJ didn't know what you would call it. A habit maybe? Anyways, it had become usual for the three of them to hang out in the bathroom. Sometimes they'd be joined by friends and roommates. Two or three of them cramped in the tub, maybe splitting a bottle of cheap wine between them all, with someone else balanced on the toilet seat and another sprawled across the floor. But today, everyone else was out at work or class or living their life in some tub-free environment.

It was only TJ and Marty that lived in the apartment of the three of them. They had two other roommates, Walker and Jonah, who were pretty decent guys. Walker was an art major like Andi and Jonah had awesome taste in music. Sometimes he and TJ would walk to campus together, they were both based in the music department, but other than that and a shared interest in sports and skateboards they didn't really have anything in common. Buffy, Marty's girlfriend and (by apparent coincidence) Andi's childhood best friend with whom she was now reconnecting, would sometimes swing by to join them too. However, her disgust at  just how useless four boys could be at keeping their apartment in order mostly kept her at bay. Old take-out containers were not part of her ‘aesthetic’ or whatever. TJ was never sure if he was glad about that or not, the two of them spent most of the time squabbling, but she did make Marty happy and it was hard not to be cheerful when Marty was.

"So I had this dream right," TJ said. 

"Oh God."

"No, it's good right. Because it made me, like, realise I should be doing something."

Andi and Marty exchanged amused looks. They were used to it, TJ's various whims and impulses and Important Decisions About The Future That Usually Turned Out To Be Not So Important. They found it funny. TJ might be offended if it weren't for the fact he had listened to them spout of conspiracy theories more times than he could count.

"Go on," Andi prompted. 

"Okay, so like... I'm standing on this cliff, right? Like on the very very edge of it. And I'm staring out to sea all dramatic and shit, and then suddenly it gives way underneath me, right? And I'm falling and falling, and I look down and there's just like... nothing there."

Another pause. "...and that's it?"

"That's it. That's the dream."

"Okay, lay it out for me. How did you go from falling off a cliff to dyeing your hair red? Give me the logic. I wanna follow your train of thought here."

He takes a deep breath, trying to shake away the lightheadedness the mingling scents of cigarettes and ammonia is bringing on, then twists around to face her.

"When you're falling to your death you're supposed to reminisce about, like, all the good shit you did in your life before you fall to your death right? And for me it was a total blank. Like nothing. Like I haven't lived."

Marty groaned. "Not this again."

"What?"

"You have this same crisis like every other month. Last time you wanted to 'live your life' we got arrested for trespassing on private property."

"Well, if you had run faster-"

"Fuck you! I run faster than you, asshole. It's not my fault there were literal guard dogs-"

"Guys!" Andi interrupted before they could really get going. They both muttered half hearted apologies with a huff. Marty sighed and leaned back, stretching his legs up to rest on the edge of the bath.

"The point is," TJ resumed, knocking Marty’s foot away from his face. "The point is that I've done, like, zero important things in my life. And we're adults now, y'know? I can't just bum around doing nothing forever. I wanna do something that matters."

Andi rolled her eyes. "'Adult' is a strong word for a guy who just this week learned what fabric softener is."

"I never claimed to be Martha Stewart."

Marty laughed. "You're criminal enough to be."

"Okay but," Andi said, before another bickering match could spark up. "The real point is... we're only in our twenties. Pretty sure we're not meant to have everything figured out yet, right? I mean, we haven't even graduated yet."

TJ and Marty both hissed.

"The G word is also banned, remember?"

Andi made a face, but didn't press the point. She hated thinking about the future just as much as the guys did. None of them knew what they wanted to do. They spent all their time in sleazy bars moshing to terrible local bands, getting drunk in a moulding tub and watching Andi paint in the student studios. TJ couldn't imagine any of them with nine-to-five jobs, commuting or working for some big evil corporation. He said as much.

"It's two thousand and five," Marty complained in response. "We should totally have robots to do all the boring jobs by now."

TJ agreed. How could humanity not yet be at the point where they had hover boards and flying cars? They had the internet for crying out loud. The possibilities were endless.

"So what're you gonna do?" Andi asked. “How are you, TJ Kippen, going to change the world?

TJ pondered this for a moment. 

"I'm gonna start a band."

*

Sometimes Cyrus seriously hated his friends.

Not in an actual 'I wish I didn't know you' way but in an 'oh man, you suck so hard right now' kind of way. Tonight was one of those times. He would never say that to them, of course, he had no desire to hurt anybody’s feelings, but a little mental cursing never hurt anyone.

He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. Rain smattered down on the concrete around him. Water seeped through the canvas of his sneakers, soaking his socks and mood both at once. He was cold, wet and fed up. Buffy had asked him to meet her here, outside some dingy rock club filled with scary kids wearing studs and too much makeup, but she was nowhere to be found. She had answered her phone when he called, but the line mostly crackled and all he got was a muffled "-inside" from here.

Whatever. It was fine. It was totally cool that he was stuck out here being eyed by suspicious punks in leather jackets and scary scene kids with scary scene hair. It was great. He could totally cope with the fact that the bouncer wouldn't let him in because he forgot his I.D. and apparently he looked like he was twelve years old. Totally, totally fine. Really, it couldn’t get any worse.

It was as if the universe had heard this very thought and decided to have the last laugh. A large truck roared down the street, sending a fresh wave of freezing water over his legs and shoes. 

Screw this. He was going home.

He hadn't even wanted to come out in the first place. He should be back in his nice cosy dorm room, preferably doing the lit assignment he had due in on Monday, maybe wrapped in a blanket. Two blankets, even. Yeah, his dorm sounded pretty great right now, even if he did have the roommate from hell. Fate had other plans, though. Right as he made the decision to head back, he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Buffy waving frantically from the door. Huffing to himself, he turned back again and headed to meet her.

"He's with me," Buffy said with a smile to the bouncer. The guy looked doubtful as Cyrus slipped passed, but he didn't question it again. 

"The reception is really bad in here," Buffy said apologetically, pulling him into a sideways hug. "But you found the place okay, right? I mean you're here, so that's good. I didn't think you'd come. I’m glad you did.”

She seemed unusually antsy, and he suspected she was a little nervous about introducing him to her friends. He would be nervous too if he was her, he knew he wasn’t much, especially to a group of cool and interesting people. He decided it was best not to tell her that he almost didn't come. He had been perfectly ready to stay in his dorm all night, even though it was a Friday night and he had little to no social life at the current moment in time with all the work his professors had been throwing at him. Except, Roommate-From-Hell-Reed had come banging into the room, all but yelling into his cellphone to some girl. Cyrus had been able to stand it for about ten minutes, and then he got tired of hearing the word "baby". A night at some dive being shoved around by sweaty drunks wasn't much of an improvement, but at least he didn't have to listen to Reed's obnoxious flirting. 

"It's good you came," Buffy continued. "You don’t get out enough. I think you'll like the band too, and they're friends with Andi and Marty. They’re pretty good - I mean, TJ is a little obnoxious, but they’ve already got a big following on MySpace, and they’re close to getting a deal with Cranked...” Cyrus let her pull him through the crowd, nodding in all the right places but struggling to keep up. Who was TJ? Cranked? What was that? He felt like she was speaking another language. “

They've even got some songs recorded now... did you know Gus- you know Gus Knight? He works at the dining hall. Apparently he’s local and has this whole studio set up in his mom’s basement. He has all the equipment and everything. It's crazy.”

"Crazy," Cyrus agreed, narrowly avoiding getting elbowed by a teary girl gesturing wildly at a boy that looked too out of it to be taking in what she said. The whole arena smelled like puked. He prayed that none got on him. "So when are these Cranked guys meant to go on?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Cranked is a record label, Cy. The band’s called Conduit For Gods.”

The problem was not that Cyrus wasn’t into music. He liked music. He thought it was fun, especially if you could sing bad karaoke to it, and who didn't like to listen to their iPod on the bus? But Buffy's friends' world seemed to revolve around music, more specifically punk music, and the whole scene that came with it. He had accepted a few of their invitations to hang out just to be polite, but most of them involved parties and shows. Parties and shows meant drinking and coming home with wild stories. Cyrus wasn’t a wild stories kind of guy.

As a kid, he had really wanted to be a wild stories kind of guy. He’d longed to be one of the popular kids who knew how to make friends with everybody, who was never bored on a Friday night and wasn’t totally invisible. He had never succeeded in becoming that kind of guy. Even at college, where he'd figured it would be easy. All the television shows and magazines had made it seem like that was what you were meant to do in college - party and drink. Become your own person. Become interesting. 

What he'd learned from actually being in college? He didn't like to party and drink. He had no problem with other people doing it, obviously, but he'd rather he was far away from them while they did. Drunk people had a habit of throwing up on him, and in crowds like this Cyrus had lost his shoe more than once. They might be drenched in grimy rainwater, but tonight he felt like keeping his shoes firmly on his feet. Preferably not covered in somebody's dinner. The other thing he’d learned was that he didn’t really vibe with the whole alternative music scene... or it didn’t vibe with him. He liked things neat and non-violent. In his experience, college-aged punks liked things sweaty and aggressive. Sometimes with a hint of insane thrown in. It’s not like it scared him or anything, he just didn’t want to die in a mosh pit.

“They’re on at ten. You want me to grab you a drink? I got us a table - I know you don’t like being in the crowd.”

He gave her a grateful smile, forgiving and forgetting the last half an hour in one fell swoop. Buffy was a really good friend not just sometimes, but all the time, even if she did make him hang out with scary people that wore studs and eyeliner. She always respected his boundaries.

As she disappeared towards the bar, he meandered his way over to the table she’d pointed out to him. There were a couple of bags and jackets strewn across the booth’s seats, but no people present. Scanning the crowd, he managed to spot Marty and Andi stood off to the side with a couple of other people. Andi caught his eye and waved him over, but he shook his head. She rolled her eyes, but smiled and sent him a thumbs up anyway. He smiled back.

Andi was a nice girl. A cool girl. She wore her hair cropped short and spiky, had a leather jacket with her name painted artfully across the back and her skin was constantly smudged with paint or coal or glue from her art projects. She’d known Buffy forever, and Cyrus was still surprised someone as cool as her was willing to hang out with a loser like him. It was the same with Buffy, honestly. He was always one step behind the laughter and she was the one making people laugh. Once, he’d made the mistake of voicing these thoughts out loud and Buffy had smacked him over the head with a copy of Rolling Stone, telling him he was being stupid and that he was cool. He knew she was lying, but he appreciated the lie anyway. 

A figure loomed over him and he turned.

“That was quick,” he started to say, but the words died on his lips. It wasn’t Buffy.

“Um, hi,” Said the most beautiful boy in the history of all existence.

Bright red hair. Green eyes ringed in black. Torn up denim jacket over plaid over faded t-shirt. Cyrus mentally catalogued all of these things and tried to unstick his tongue from where it seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to do. How did English work again? What were words?

In the end, he stuck one awkward hand out before he could stop himself and stuttered out a greeted. The guy took it with a warm smile and shook. 

“I’m Cyrus,” Cyrus finally managed to say.

Understanding dawned on the guy’s face. “Oh, you’re Buffy’s friend. That’s cool. I’m TJ, Marty’s roommate,” he jerked a thumb back towards the crowd. Much to Cyrus’ horror, he realised Andi and Marty were watching them with interest. He dropped TJ’s hand quickly. “I was just grabbing the keys to the van, could you pass me that bag?”

Cyrus did as asked, expecting TJ to take it and flee from the obviously crazy person who had just shaken his hand like they were at some sort of business meeting instead of a nightclub, but he didn’t move from where he was standing. Instead, he rummaged through the bag for a second and then withdraw a set of car keys and dumped it back on the table. Turning, he signalled to one of the guys in the crowd and launched the keys through the crowd. 

“So are you sticking around after the show?” TJ said, turning back to Cyrus with a curious smile. 

No. Cyrus was going to go home and shower at least twice then snuggle up in bed and get a good night’s sleep where nobody could accidentally spill a suspicious substance on his nice clean pants.

“Yeah, I think so,” is what came out of Cyrus’ mouth.

“Awesome,” TJ grinned, the thousand-watt smile disarming Cyrus once again. “Well, I gotta scoot, ‘cause it’s my band…”

“Oh! You’re in Condu-whatsit?”

“Conduit For Gods,” he laughed. “Yeah, I’m the singer.”

Oh great, a cute guy in a band. Just what Cyrus needed to make this interaction less intimidating.

“Break a leg?” He offered.

He didn’t know if he was imagining it or not (probably) but TJ looked a little reluctant to go, but after a moment he flashed him another smile and departed. Cyrus resisted the urge to bang his head on the table and berated himself for not being able to hold a conversation like a normal person. Oh man, he had made himself look like a total idiot. Luckily, Buffy returned not long after, and he drowned his sorrows in his drink. 

*

“Okay, not to be dramatic but we have to play the best show we’ve ever played tonight,” TJ said, speeding over to Jonah behind the stage.

Jonah looked up from tuning his guitar in surprise. “I thought the label weren’t seeing us ‘til next week?”

“It’s not a rep,” he shook his head and sighed as dramatically as he could manage. “I just met the most amazing guy I’ve ever seen and I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates, so we have to impress him, okay?”

“Soulmates, huh?” Jonah grinned. “Do you even know this guy’s name?”

“Cyrus.”

“Cyrus? As in Buffy’s Cyrus?”

“That’s the one.”

“Okay, man. If you say so.”

The stage fright seemed twice as intense as usual as TJ clicked the microphone on. Through the glare of the lights and the packed room he could barely make out the table tucked away in the corner where Cyrus was sat. The crowd roared back as he greeted them, and it felt like the entire room exploded into life as the boys launched into the first song. For the first time ever, TJ worried less about cracking a rib as he surfed across the top of the crowd and more about how exactly he was going to ask Cyrus for his number without sounding weird. 

But by the time the show was over and TJ was drenched in his own sweat while blood dripped down from his nose from where someone had accidentally hit him in the face during the last song, Cyrus was nowhere to be found, and the question of the phone number became obsolete. 

[missweber]

Lardo Week Day 2: accident

Here is my entry for day 2 of @lardo-week

Chapter 2 - happy accidents 

(chapter 1 can be found here)

One of Larissa's very first studio assignments at Samwell didn't actually take place in the studio. To fulfill the assignment, they had to go to a sports practice and fill a number of sketchbook pages with gesture drawings of athletes in motion.

As an assignment, it was a darned good one that she normally would have enjoyed. The only problem was that Boston was in the middle of a heat wave and even teams that had practice at ass-o-clock in the morning would be sweating through their jocks and/or sports bras in five seconds flat.

In short, yuck.

(Also, Lardo had already learned the hard way that charcoal and copious amounts of sweat were not mixy things.)

She skimmed through the athletic calendar looking for something like 'competitive air-conditioned yoga' but figured in the end that ice hockey—emphasis on the ice—was her best bet.

If it hadn't been for her phone's battery conking out in the middle of the night and killing her alarm, she would have gone to the women's practice at o' dark early. As it was, she got to Faber after the men's team had already taken to the ice.

She got a few curious glances from the players, but their captain (she assumed it was the captain) barked at them to pay attention to the ice, not the stands. One of the coaches nodded at her sketchbook and asked, "Professor Davila's life drawing class?" without expecting an answer. 

It wasn't until she actually started drawing that Larissa realized why she was the only member of her class who had taken advantage of the cool of the rink. Yes, she had heard of the hockey team's general loudness and obnoxiousness, but that wasn't the problem. The shouts and insults ('chirps,' she would later learn) were a comfortable part of the background along with the swish-swish-swish of the skates and the clatter of the sticks.

The problem was more fundamental than that, and brought with it an echo of her mother's protests of you need to focus on what's practical, sweetie. You need to set yourself up for a successful life.

Practical would mean staying at home and taking the T to school every day. Practical would mean constant, well-meaning, 'we just want the best for you' commentary on her choice of studies.

Well, fuck practical. And what did it mean to be successful, anyway?

A small, exhausted part of her said that successful people didn't have to work at one of the campus dining halls to make up for what her partial scholarship and college fund wouldn't cover.

And drawing hockey players wasn't the most practical way to succeed at this particular assignment. 

Larissa was debating whether or not she should just give up and join the majority of her class at the soccer fields when someone scraped to a halt right in front of where she was sitting.

Whoever it was had better not ask her to 'draw him like one of your French girls,' or he would need a gastroenterologist to remove his hockey stick from his ass. 

"What?" she snarled.

The player wasn't anyone Larissa had met before. She would have recognized that mustache for sure. His eyes were wide, and he held his stick in front of him in both hands like a talisman.

"Wow," mustache-guy said. "I was going to tell you to try to capture my left side, because that's the best angle if you want to do a portrait of me, but _damn _if that isn't the single scariest death glare I have seen in my life! Jack! C'mere! You gotta see this death glare!"

The captain skated over, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Leave the nice artist alone, Shits." He turned to Larissa. "I apologize. In advance. For everything."

He grabbed mustache-guy by the back of the jersey and skated off with him in tow. 

Mustache-guy flailed and squirmed, but not to the point of actual resistance. "Jaaaaaack! You need to stop and talk to the scary lady! That death glare! Put her on D, and we'll have Brown shaking in their skates!"

The captain (Jack?) mouthed a silent 'sorry!' at her before turning his attention back to practice.  

She had just made up her mind to go draw soccer players for the rest of her assignment when the practice finally ended. She flipped through her sketches and was pleasantly surprised to find that she had nearly two-thirds of what was required.

She was less pleasantly surprised when mustache-guy scraped to a stop in front of her again.

"Um, I know this is really fucking forward of me, and you are totally free to say no—and wow, it's kind of fucked up that I even have to say that, isn't it?—but anyway..."

Oh, god. He was going to ask her out, wasn't he?

"I absolutely get it if you don't want to, completely one-hundred-percent get it, but could I see what you've been drawing?"

Lardo could only stare for a moment. "It's just gesture drawings," she blurted out even as she shoved the sketchbook at him.

"Gesture drawings?" He pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth so he could turn the pages. She could see how he looked at each little sketch in turn, not just skimming, but looking.

"Yeah. We're supposed to focus on capturing how the human form looks in motion."

The figures were roughly blocked out, with the occasional thick and swooping line showing the curve of a spine or sweep of a leg.

"These are really neat," he said after a while. "I mean, they're kind of scribbly in parts, but you can really see what's happening. Hell, I can even tell who some of these guys are!"

'Jack' was a tall, solid figure with classical proportions. "You can see how this this fucker just moves with power! Ah! Adonis made manifest on earth! And that's Johnson if I ever saw him," he said, pointing at a mess of foreshortening.

That was the goalie, captured as he dropped to block a puck, practically folding himself into something out of an Escher drawing in the process.

"Rans and Holster," he said, pointing at a tangle of overlapping forms that were still two separate people even though they occupied the same space. 

He turned to look through the pictures again, which was more flattering than Larissa would ever admit to anyone, while most of the other players headed towards the locker room.

"Thanks," she said. "I'm glad to hear that they work. I was beginning to think that coming here was a mistake."

The betrayed look on his face would have been hilarious if it wasn't so heartbreaking. "Mistake? No! There are no mistakes! Only happy accidents!"

Larissa laughed. "Did you just quote Bob Ross at me?"

"Please don't tell me you're one of those snobby art students who–"

"Bob Ross is awesome the way Mr. Rogers is awesome," she said plainly. "I'm not into his actual paintings, but you gotta love the way he loves what he does."

"Amen," mustache-guy said, sounding more serious than she would have expected. He was looking at his captain—Jack—as he said it.

(It was only after Larissa became Lardo that she would understand even half of what was going on with that look and everything behind it.)

"So why were you worried coming here was a mistake? Please tell me that none of the guys were douchewaffles! I know we're loud, but it's like we're the lacrosse team!"

"Ha! No, Professor Davila warned us away from them. What threw me were the pads. They make it hard to see what's actually going on, anatomy-wise."

She almost regretted that the instant she said it, because she could imagine all of the lewd comments she had just set herself up for.

That didn't happen. All that happened was that Mustache-guy nodded solemnly and Captain Jack glanced over to make sure he didn't need to come over and apologize for something.

"I see. It must be like trying to draw the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man."

"Close enough." She didn't laugh, but she did let a hint of a smile show through the unimpressed look.

"By the way, you can call me Shitty. That's not my real name, but that's actually worse."

"Hey, Shits!" Jack called out. "Ask her if she's interested in the team manager job!"

"Team manager? Like managing your team? The hockey team?" she asked Shitty. Strangely, the name fit him, but not in a bad way.

Shitty nodded.

"I don't know how to skate!" she shouted at Jack.

Jack stared at her as if she had just sprouted two extra heads and a tail. 

Shitty cackled. 

Johnson, who had been hanging around doing not much of anything, muttered something about not being needed after all and left the rink.

Shitty wiped away teas of laughter. "Aw... I think you broke Jack's poor, Canadian brain. Anyhow, skating isn't needed for the job. Dealing with stinky hockey equipment, on the other hand, is."

She shrugged. "It can't be worse than what I smell like after working the deep-fryer all afternoon. What's the pay like?" she asked, because being practical did have its time and place.

The pay wasn't much, but it was better than what the dining hall offered. 

"Well, I'd say this was a successful drawing session," she said as they exchanged fist-bumps. 

"Yup. Here's to happy accidents!"

[vanaera]

400 LUX (Prologue)

Synopsis | You’d like to think that Yoongi loves you in small details-a brush of his hand across yours, sweet smiles sent only to your way, and that look in his eyes you know he doesn’t give to anyone else but you. But it’s not enough to tell when he also pushes you away, cold and alone, far from you to touch him whenever you get too close. But tonight, under the midnight sky, in his beat-up car he sneaked you out far from your parents who detest him, far from your friends who disapprove him, and far from the society who abhors such a monstrosity of a man, you guess living and dying with him is all you could do for him to believe that you’re not like everybody else. You’re not leaving him. You’re going to stay. “We deconstruct the conventions, pick apart every bit of our rationality, and keep our head out of windows until we learn to lay and stay in each other's arms. We'll form a world of our own. Just the two of us–you and me.” Pairing | yoongi x reader (boxer!yoongi + bestfriend!you) Genre | Angst Wordcount | 2.7k Warnings | Implicit smut and mentions of violence (This IS a boxing!AU) A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOONGI!!! And for my honeyboy’s birthday, this honeygirl (me) decided to start a new oneshot featuring Min Yoongi in a boxing AU! (Also, this is under my Songs to Read Playlist as I listened to Lorde’s 400 Lux on repeat and OHOHOHO I tried a different style for this and after working on it for some time, I found it was one of the dearest works of mine that I hold close to my heart). This is just the prologue so prepare, hons, for the major fic drop I’m going to do in the future ;D

               I always knew not to expect anything from him.

               "Expectation is just a shit entitlement people forced unto others to keep everything controlled when they're not supposed to be that way," he always nonchalantly say whenever anything so minutely related to it is brought up. One doesn't need to doubt it when he's become an existent proof living off with that ideology.

               Min Yoongi runs on his own rules, crosses every boundary set by social conventions, and does not bother to look back at the trails he left, even if it will ruin everything he's built his life on.

               The only thing that matters are the consequences. Win or lose, black or white, live or die–it's all binary to him.

               His right hand shifts the gearshift forward, his left grasped a little too tight on the steering wheel. He glances at my way. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

               "Nothing," I said. The screeching of the worn tires on the hard, graveled pavement sounds distant and I prefer not to take a glimpse at the abused speedometer. His eyes are enough of warning signs to where we're headed anyway.

               He chuckles. "You afraid with the speed, babe?"

               "No," I quickly answered and I smiled. I knew we stand on the same lane. We'll never get the taste of life until we're face-to-face with death. We won't die tonight though; we're just gonna live a little.

               He grins and steps on the pedal harder, but his words will forever be contradictory. "I still gotta keep us both alive though. At least you–you still need to come home to your folks before they know I sneaked you out again, I just," he turns to look at me again, "I need to show you something."

               I smiled and let my hand rest on his and then, we pushed the stick shift further forward. Before long, laughter was already filling the empty tree streets. The streetlights above looked like bruised suns in awe of us.

               Expectations and obligations are mere concepts fictitious in Yoongi’s mind. Too free to be caged, too mercurial to be kept within the lines; he is hard to read between the lines, hard to grasp at the critical times, and hard to love...at times. Only a few times.

               Mistakes and regret fill his blood streams; morals are askew on the muddled blues and reds of his frayed veins. His name is lackluster of prestige and respect–his first name, his first creation and his last name, the last contribution his family could ever give to him. But when he stands in the 16 by 20 ring, with all the thousand luxes of unrelenting white headlights shining on all the crimson blood he spat, the violent blues of his blown-up eyes, and his beat-up garnet fists that only knew to swing, plow, and destroy–the name “Min Yoongi, King Cobra” is nothing but an aspiring legend. His name is too large for someone else to swallow that no one dares to speak of it with the contempt it deserves unless it’s in the ring. He is the epitome of the blasphemy everyone barely whispers, an abomination of a future lover, and a hideous joke of a man. No wonder he is the sin everyone told me not to commit.

               Yoongi may be a horrible blur of temptation, damnation and even a bit of some salvation, but he's also my bestfriend–the only one who can understand me and the only one who I learned to love. Far more than that probably because at this point, I’m willing to do anything for him.

               We’ve been through shits together, strived for dreams longer than we should together, and even plummeted to the deepest “worst” we can be together. We even learned together how eyes don’t only hold one destination at its focused end, how ears don’t only catch the blacks and whites, how skins felt much deeper than the warmth of the flesh, and how tongues don’t only hold names engraved on our palms and minds. They’re so much more and I realized all of them when we decided to dwell the blurred lines of the intimacy of our friendship. In the raven black of the night warmed by the soft glow of his room, I saw how his eyes only saw me instead of the glistening golden title in the middle of the ring. I felt how close and warm he was that I could feel all of him and all we could be under my touch when I’m used to him being cold and withdrawn. And I tasted how drunk, overwhelmed, invincible, and vulnerable I can be off his name and everything about him when they all stumbled past my swollen lips.

               He looks at me again and all thoughts halt in an ugly pause. “Why do you keep looking at me?”

               I smiled. Nobody expected him to be like this–to live like this, so how can I even expect him to have the same magnitude of the feelings I have? I bite my tongue. I can’t tell him I love him. No, not yet, when everything about us is not yet clear. I returned his gaze with an answer, “Nothing. Is it wrong to look at you?”

               “I’m not quite the sight to look at, sweetheart.” He shrugs off the sudden indifference on his lips with a chuckle that probably hurt his throat. It sounded hoarse; he’s been laughing quite a lot this night.

                Silence fills the gaps between us but before it can drag out to a suffocating one, Yoongi decided to break it.  “We’re just around the corner though,” he says and when I looked back out the window, the thicket of the stubby tree trunks have dwindled into narrow ones and green shrubs. We were far off from the streets we grew up in, a little bit in the middle between the tree streets and the foreign countryside for the old streetlamps in our neighborhood were no longer above our heads, watching us. Instead, dirt roads with unmarked soil stretched before us, trees mimicking the foliage of forests we dreamt of in fairy tales swayed past us, and the midnight haze that lined the skyline was not pitch dark as it should be.

               Yoongi was already pulling the park break when I saw what replaced everything from where we’re before. In front of us, lay the entirety of the city. I could see the navy sea where we drove to whenever we feel troubled, the crusty diner owned by Auntie Rose where we always come to kill time, the arcade we snuck to when life gets a little too hard on us, the apartment we used to live in, the foster home where he grew up, and even the high school we went to together-me drowning in books and wrinkled music sheets, and Yoongi with detentions and bandages smeared with dried blood.

               I glanced at Yoongi and he, too, was looking at the scene before us. But unlike me, he’s looking at the west side. I followed his gaze. On the west side lay the fastfood chain I had my first job despite my family’s objections, the grimy garage where he had his unlike everyone’s expectations. On the west side sat the disheveled studio I bought to do music, a tiny space in a building with cracking paint and walls, crammed between the rough constructions of the downtown, a tiny secret from my folks that I will never disclose. Just a street next to it is the gym where Yoongi trains, where he first learned the southpaw, where he first learned how to hit the sandbag right, where he first wore his own red gloves. And right in the center of the west side stood Front Street Club, the country club where Yoongi first felt happiness in what he earned, where he showed the town his famous “Cobra Hook,” and where he built his life as the King Cobra, wearing the last name of his mother on his trunks.

               In the center of it all, was the moon in its full glory, so enormous it encompassed both the east and the west sides. Ghost-white and pale, this sun’s respite was the only source of light in this starless night.

               “Isn’t it beautiful?” Yoongi’s voice draws me back to him.

               “Yes. I,” I bit my lip, “I’ve never seen something like this before.”

               “Yeah, me too,” he sighs, “I drove here impulsively one afternoon and thought of bringing you here because the view of the sunset was magnificent.” I felt him grabbing my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I looked at him and he chuckled before pulling me close next to him, the gearshift and the central compartment separating us but it doesn’t feel like it when my head is tucked under his jaw, body encased by his right arm that hugged my shoulders. “But you know me, and you know your folks. I can’t take you to beautiful sunsets and can only provide you midnight rides.”

               “It’s okay-actually more than okay,” I said. “The moon is beautiful and the whole city below us looked like a night haven. This is really, more than enough.”

               “Yeah, but,” his voice falters and I look up at him. He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “I know you like sunsets and I–I can’t even drive you here to see one.”

               “It’s okay. We can just pretend we’re watching a sunset tonight though.”

               “How will we do that?”

               “Well,” I sink deeper in his embrace, “we can pretend that the city now bathes in yellow and orange and red hues. We would be able to see the beach glittering like pink dust and probably some children playing or dancing by the shore. The diner would probably shine in its iconic red and white plaster with the usual patrons coming in their Harley’s and there’ll be kids like us who’ll sweep by the doors and make the adults watch them make the diner a playground than a pit of white-lines business.” He chuckles at the distant memory we have and I continued on. “Then the building where my studio is will look so pretty with all the sun’s rays hitting the cracks and the peeling paint of its walls, highlighting the mini graffiti we did on the front. Your gym though would look so cool because its brick red paint would look much intense and vibrant, and I know how that saturated view will make you giddy because it will give off Rocky’s Philadelphia vibes.

               Yoongi nods and giggles. I followed suit. “What about the sun, then?” he asks.

               “It would be golden. Vibrance and brightness toned down yet shining at the same time that it almost glitters. It will bury its way down right in the middle after it burned enough for the moon to have traces of her shine.  Even if it’s just an inch of her left for us to see, we still feel illuminated by the 400 lux luminosity that surrounded us.”

               “Wait, how do you know its luminosity amounts to 400 lux?”

               I laughed beside him. “I didn’t know you’re interested in that.” He shrugged with his nose scrunched and I laughed again. “We had physics yesterday. Our professor taught us so.”

               “Then..what’s the luminosity of the moon–like–right now?”

               “Well, I guess it’s around 0.3. It actually ranges from 0.05 to 0.3 but since it’s big like this, it’s a full 0.3.”

               “That small? I mean,” he looks at the scenery before us again, “Look at it! It’s gigantic! How can it be just 0.3?”

               “That’s what I just learned and researched, Yoongz. But you know,” I drew his attention back to me, “Not everything’s congruent. Huge things can have a brightness like this–calm, cool, unsaturated, and passive. And small things can be so bright it nearly blinds the eyes.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “The spotlights that shine on you in the ring, they’re more than a thousand luxes. And they’re shining on you. I could never agree more; you’re worth that thousands, King Cobra.”

                He doesn’t laugh and just gives me the same smile I always see in him in front of everybody–the one I find hard to decipher, the one I’m not used to. “Well I’ll say, you’re shining to about 400 lux.”

               I sat up, chuckling. “So you see me as a sunset? I mean I love sunsets but you do know sunsets mean farewells, wait,” I giggled, “are you implying that I’m going to leave you?”

               Tongues have an awful irony. They lighten your chest from uttering words you’ve long kept bottled up. But, they also make you taste every inch of remorse from saying them.

               It was supposed to be a joke but by the look in his eyes, it wasn’t what I intended for him to feel.

               “Well, will you?”

               I looked at him and for once, I can’t read him at all. His eyes looked distant yet so intimately close, his hand loose on my shoulders, ready to pull or push me away, and his warmth under my fingers felt fervid and algid at the same time. But I never broke our gaze for hesitation has never been my option whenever it comes to him. “Of course no.”

               He just smiled at me. No answers were returned, just silence.

               I leaned my head back on his shoulder and watched the city below us. When we first met, he told me that my eyes were not made to see miseries and I fought for years to prove him wrong. I can see sorrow, I can see remorse, and most importantly, I see him. But I know he’s more than the agony that pulls all his nerves taut against the wars in his mind. He’s more than the people who left him, doubted him, and made him broken beyond repair. And I’m not going to be among them.

               I molded myself closer to him and this time, grasped his fingers to interlock with mine, no plans of letting go anytime soon. He looks at me again and raises our intertwined fingers to press a gentle kiss on the back of my hand. I sighed and let my lips return one against the juncture of his jaw. I’ll prove it to him–that I’m not like the other ones. My mother always told me that I’m never like those sunny girls that live the usual life. I’m detached, peculiar, a girl with her head spent too much on the clouds.  Then so be it. I’ll be peculiar with Yoongi and we’ll make our own world together. And I would do whatever it takes until he sees how I can make the moon shine like the sun for him.

               It may not be pretty, but it’s ours.

 A/N pt.2: Happy birthday to the greatest love of my life Min Yoongi!!! You’ve inspired me to have the dream of becoming a writer who can wield words that can wreck lives, for better or worse–to write a tornado for me and my readers that I and they can find solace in, all for the sake of art. I can’t say how much love I have for you enough, because I’ve never felt someone so distant from me can have the same effect to me as my family and close friends before knowing you back in 2013. Keep inspiring people and making art. I hope you can also find more things to be happy about in life because I’m sincerely grateful for you becoming one of mine. Happy birthday, Min Yoongi ♡ ♡ ♡

For my followers who continues supporting and appreciating my work, thank you so much! I will fulfill your requests on my next posts, though my schedule won’t be that fast-paced as your honeygirl will have tons of exams and term papers, but rest assured I’m working on them already! Thank you so much, I love you all, hons!

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

[chemicalmagecraft]

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 9

A/N: Okay, thanks to everyone who contributed to that explosion of suggestions. Was nice. A few things:

Remzal Von Enili: That is an interesting idea and I wish I could find a way to use it.

ImSoBored246: I don't think I'm going to go that extreme, but thanks for the suggestion.

Plasma Dragon 312: That's a cool skill. I already had an idea for PhysEnd's upgrade, so unfortunately that's probably not going to be it, but I appreciate you suggesting a skill and am going to try to find a way to include it somehow.

RavenJ: Thanks for telling me that. WAIT DANGIT! At the very least, you can't tell me his hair isn't antigravity...

To everyone who suggested a fire-type Pokémon for Izuku: Thank you! You all had great ideas and I honestly wish I could pick them all, buuuut there would be some logistic problems with that... The winning suggestion, however, goes to a guest because I liked the Pokémon and logic behind it used and then grew too attached to my design to change my mind. Not gonna say what it is here, though.

And considering how well that worked out, I'd also appreciate any title suggestions for as-of-yet untitled characters and also skill suggestions. Because I highly appreciate any time someone gives me an excuse to do less work, lol.

xoxoxo

Yuuei was... surprisingly mundane. I don't know what I was expecting, but after the rush of being taught by pro heroes wore off, it was actually boring. At least it was good for leveling Enlightenment. Though Enlightenment actually leveled rather slowly for a level one skill, probably because it was a prestige skill. I was really excited to see what getting that up would do.

Of course, there was one class that I didn't want to miss one second of. Hero Basic Training.

"I AM HERE!" All Might shouted as he burst through the door in his silver age costume, causing a wave of excitement to run through the class. "Today will be your first class with me, All Might! In this class, you will learn what you will need to defeat villains and save lives! But before we begin!" He pointed at some panels on the wall that Observe told me held our hero costumes behind them! On cue, they slowly came out from the wall. "I'm not the only one who's going to be in costume today! Suit up in your new outfits and meet me at training ground beta!

xoxoxo

All Might gave his trademark brilliant smile as he watched us slow-walk through the entrance to training ground beta, somehow in perfect sync. "They say clothes make the pros, class, and you are no exception!" Everyone looked so cool in their costumes!

"Hey, Deku!" Uraraka said as she walked over to me. She had a black-and-pink bodysuit that looked like a futuristic space suit. "I love your costume! It's supposed to be like an RPG character, right?"

"Yeah that was the idea," I said. At first, I'd wanted a jumpsuit with horns that looked like All Might's hair, but when I showed it to Kacchan he hit me so hard I leveled up Physical Endurance (though to be fair I was almost to the next level at the time) and told me that it would be too obvious and it'd make me look like a rabbit. 

Upon threat of further violence, I agreed to change my outfit to something a little more original, and decided to just go with the RPG theme that my Quirk gave me. I had a green waistcoat over a long-sleeved white shirt, dark green pants, my sweet red shoes, white gloves, a small utility belt that I suppose was superfluous with my inventory but still looked cool, and a green hooded cloak that I had include rabbit ears as a joke to Kacchan at first, then decided I liked it and kept it. It all had light armor that didn't mess with the look or harm my mobility but still added slightly to my defenses. The most surprising part, though, was that my request for a sword so I didn't have to waste mana on Bound Blade was accepted. Sure, I had spells that worked well with a sword, but I could also make swords and I didn't expect them to let me have a sword on my first year. "I think yours looks nice too." I also expected that without Gamer's Mind I would have been very flustered...

Ururaka sighed. "I wish I'd been more specific with my costume, this is a little embarrassing..."

"Look at it this way; at least you're not Ponytail or Invisible," Kacchan said with an amused grin. His costume was pretty cool, but I still think those gauntlets looked a little too bulky, even after he had them reduced a bit and include switchable sweat cartridges at my suggestion. I saw he also had the water bottle I'd suggested to keep hydrated so he could sweat more. "One of them's half naked and the other's only wearing gloves and shoes."

"In my defense, I need bare skin for my Quirk, Creation," Yaoyorozu stated.

"Dude, I'm naked, like, all the time when I'm at home," Hagakure told Kacchan. I noticed that her title was transparent. Not fully invisible, but harder to see than it used to be. I shrugged it off as my Quirk making it harder for me to see her title because she was supposed to be harder to see. "And I got points in the entrance exam by sneaking around buck naked and messing around with the robots' innards and stuff."

Mineta gave a thumbs-up. "Naked ladies..." He drooled... Ugh.

"Nobody asked you, Dick-for-brains!" Kacchan shouted at him.

"Now that you're all in costume, we're going to begin with combat training!" All Might told us. "Unlike the entrance exam, where you fought robots outside, today you'll all be fighting each other indoors! Now, can anyone tell me why it is important to know how to fight indoors?"

Almost immediately, Iida's hand shot up. "While it is true that most confrontations between heroes and villains happen outdoors, the vast majority of all fights between heroes and villains are in fact inside!" He was wearing really cool white armor that reminded me of Ingenium and my Observe told me was more to reduce wind resistance than defend from attacks.

"Exactly, young Iida! And so for your training exercise today, you will be divided into teams of two! Those teams will then be pitted against each other, one hero team against one villain team! The villains will be hiding a fake bomb somewhere in the building and it will be the heroes' job to find it! The heroes will win if they capture both villains or touch the bomb! On the other hand, the villains win if they capture the heroes or survive to the end of the time limit! And try not to hurt each other too hard!" Then he pulled out a cardboard box. "And the teams will be decided by drawing lots!"

"Why lots?" Iida asked.

"Pros can't always choose who they're working with, so maybe it's to represent that?" I offered.

"Exactly, young Midoriya! Now, let's see who the teams are!"

xoxoxo

In a freak twist of fate that further cemented my decision to no longer grind LUC because it's not that worth it, Uraraka and I, in team A, were put against Kacchan and Iida in team D. Kacchan and Iida as the villain team were given five minutes to get set up, and we were allowed to plan outside while they were in there. I sighed. "What's wrong, Midoriya?" Uraraka asked.

"I know that this might sound a little bit like bragging, but Kacchan's really the only person in the class that I know for sure could win in a fight against me. I think Todoroki might be able to put up a decent fight, but Kacchan knows what I can do the best and his Quirk and magic combined make him a definite threat. Plus, he's the only person who might be able to counter the plan I came up with."

Uraraka grinned. "Then we're just gonna have to do our best! What's the plan?"

I nodded. "First, I'm going to summon reinforcements. Don't freak out." I summoned all of my elementals, including my new fire elemental, Blaise. He wore a light brown long-sleeved shirt with thin black horizontal lines. His black pants, black shoes, and black gloves covered up the rest of his skin below his neck. He had a mane of wild white hair with five wavy red... ponytails(?) arranged in a way that made his head the center of a five-pointed star. He also had a neck warmer/mask in the same shade of white as his hair that was pulled up over his nose. What little skin on his face that was visible was pitch-black, and his scleraless eyes glowed bright blue. He was probably the least human-looking elemental I had.

"Wow, what kind of spell is this?" Uraraka asked as she crouched down a bit to look at Dune. Thankfully, I'd managed to get Dune to switch from a gun to some sort of military-type knife sheathed on her sleeve in public.

"Sup, I'm Dune," Dune introduced herself.

"Halitus," Halitus muttered.

Rayne gave her a wide, toothy grin and pulled out her sword. "I'm Rayne! Need something stabbed?"

"No, Rayne," Blaise sighed as he grabbed her hand and lowered the sword she was brandishing for her. "Name's Blaise."

Uraraka laughed, causing Rayne to give a toothy grin and blush a little. "These are my elementals," I said. "They're able to control the elements. My plan is to use a certain spell I have to sneak into the building." I bit my lip. "Unfortunately, the best way to use it is to have you act as a distraction... Is that okay?"

She nodded. "It's totally okay! I'm guessing there's technical stuff at work?"

"Yeah. The spell, Illusion Barrier, takes me and anything I include into a sort of pocket dimension, and while I know how to exclude my elementals, I don't think I can put you in and not me..."

"I said it's fine!" Uraraka beamed. "That's super cool though! So you can just disappear at will? That's gotta be so useful!"

"Start!" All Might's voice said from our earpieces.

"I'm pulling us in!" I warned. "Illusion Barrier!" Nothing seemed to change, but I knew it worked. "Right, we should probably split up so we can cover more ground. Objects, like the bomb, will still be where they were when I used the spell, but Kacchan and Iida aren't in the barrier. I saw them on my map in the northern part of the building, but the map doesn't show elevation, so we need to check each floor. Let's go!"

xoxoxo

Bakugou sighed. This was going to be a fucking nightmare. "I am loath to act on the side of the villains, even if it's just for practice, but if I must, then I shall," Ingenium Junior said.

"'Kay, first off, Glasses, you're gonna have to think like a villain sometimes if you wanna get the jump on the real villains," Bakugou said. "Second off, can you please let me think?"

"Ah, yes. Is Midoriya likely to give us trouble?"

Bakugou gave a deeper sigh. "More like he's gonna fucking appear out of thin air on top of the bomb if I don't figure out a counter to what I'm pretty sure is dimensional fuckery. Deku's got a spell called Illusion Barrier that lets him go to some other dimension of total bullshit or something where everything's the same but nobody's there."

Even through his helmet, Bakugou could see Glasses' wince. "That sounds like it'll be difficult to counter. I will defer to your lead."

"Right, first off, this." Bakugou made a fire ball, using it to summon Pyra. Like Deku's elementals, Pyra seemed to have ranked up, causing her to look older and gain a small bump on her forehead for some reason. "This is Pyra. She's made of fire. Deal with it."

"Hello," Pyra said with a small wave. "I am a fire elemental."

"If I know Deku like I know Deku, and I know Deku, then Round Face is gonna pop out of nowhere sometime soon with at least one of Deku's four elementals to distract us. By the way, Deku has four Pyras of various elements. Deal with it. While that happens, Deku'll make his way over to the bomb in his Bullshit Barrier and just pop back in on top of it. I want you and Pyra to hold off Round Face and the elementals while I try to enact Operation Punch Deku in the Fucking Face from Another Dimension, or OPDFFAD for short. That sound good?"

Glasses nodded. "It does, though I'd like to know what OPDFFAD entails, if you don't mind me asking."

"Step one is to make some kind of sensory spell that can hopefully be used to sense dimensional fuckery. I've already made a spell that I think can do that, but I have to concentrate on it and it's a bitch on my mana. Step two is to try using it on Deku while he's entering or exiting Bullshitland. Step three, try to use that data to sense where Deku is in Bullshitland and then cause my fist to enter Bullshitland with magic."

"There are a lot of ifs in that plan..." Glasses sounded a little doubtful.

Bakugou glared at him. "You got a better plan?"

"On the other hand, this is a training exercise. Why exactly do you think your spell will sense Midoriya's Illusion Barrier?"

"Because I used it on Round Face and felt something when she used her Quirk that wasn't magic, which I'm assuming was her gravity fuckery, which according to Einstein is a type of dimensional fuckery."

"I... do not believe those were his exact words, but that sounds about right."

"Then I got Deku to use his inventory and felt a similar but different feeling, which pretty much confirms it's Fuckery Detection."

"I literally cannot argue with that logic."

"Now shut up so I can detect fuckery." Bakugou leaned on the bomb so he could close his eyes and reach out with his Fuckery Detection. It needed him to spread out a thin layer of mana over the area he wanted to detect, which meant that he wouldn't be able to use it over too large of an area if he wanted to do it for a while. Thankfully, Pyra had given him the general direction of Deku's and Round Face's heat signatures, so he was able to find the two relatively easily, plus all four of Deku's elementals. 

Just a few fucking moments after he got set up, All Might announced that the heroes could start, causing Deku drag them all into Bullshitland. Bakugou definitely felt... something when they fucked off, but he felt like he'd need to feel an exit to get any concrete idea. Still, he definitely felt just the lightest bit of a person-shaped spatial disturbance or whatever the fuck where the heroes were. He was able to follow one of the signals that he thought might have been Round Face until it made its way to the room with the bomb, convening with some other, shorter, human-shaped disturbances.

"Get ready," Bakugou warned, then concentrated harder on the signal. He was just in time to catch Round Face and the elementals getting dumped out of Bullshitland, which gave Bakugou a surprising degree of insight on how Illusion Barrier worked. He felt Bullshitland change when Round Face was spat out, then felt it change back a few moments later when Deku presumably recast the spell. It seemed like there was some sort of dimensional barrier or whatever the fuck that was already there, and Deku called on a part of it to use his Illusion Barrier, which Bakugou figured made sense of what Deku was muttering about when he was talking about his spell. But with that knowledge, Bakugou figured he could maybe punch Deku. He grinned as he felt Deku's signature approaching, then Blast Rushed at it when it jumped toward the bomb. "DIEEEEEEE!"

xoxoxo

The plan seemed to be going off without a hitch. Uraraka found the bomb quickly enough and called me to bring my elementals over. As they got into position, I found a spot that was out of the way enough that the villain team wouldn't notice me blink into existence for a moment, but close enough that I could get over to the bomb quickly and not keep Uraraka waiting for too long. I undid the Illusion Barrier for a moment before pulling myself and only myself back in. I'd had a lot of practice with exiting and reentering Illusion Barrier whenever I was switching between empty and skeletons, so it took less than a second. I ran toward the bomb as fast as I could, using Air Aura and Speed Up to get there faster. Within a few seconds, I saw and jumped at the fake bomb, aiming to land on top of it so I could just appear there and win. It looked like I was about to win!

Then Kacchan faded into existence in front of me, screaming, "DIEEEEEEE!" He punched me on the jaw, throwing me back. I was stunned, but more from the shock of Kacchan appeaing out of nowhere in an area I never expected him to than from pain. "You thought you could escape fighting me by fucking off to Bullshitland, Deku?" Kacchan smirked at me. "Fuck that noise."

"How?" I asked. I noted that I could see Iida and Pyra fighting my team as I got up. "Did the skill fail?"

"Fuck yeah it did!" His grin widened and he pointed at himself. "And I was the one who made it fail!"

"I'm gonna stab you!" I heard Rayne say gleefully.

I immediately turned to see Rayne brandishing her sword at Iida. "No maiming, Rayne!" I shouted frantically.

"But he tried to kick the pretty lady!" she retorted.

"No!" I said like I was telling a little kid not to draw on the walls. I turned back to Kacchan. "Sorry, didn't want Rayne to kill Iida."

He shrugged. "That's fair. Now hit me with your bes-" He cut himself off by using his gauntlets to block the flat of my sword. Kacchan being Kacchan, this only served to make him look extremely happy. After a quick test showing that trying to recast Illusion Barrier was futile, I used Air Aura to strike at him with a quick flurry of blows. Even though he wasn't as fast as me, Kacchan was fast enough that he could use both gauntlets to block my strikes. Of course, my plan wasn't to hit him with a sword. Instead, I kept his attention on my sword as I got out the capture tape that All Might gave us. I managed to make a loop with the tape with my hand and then gave Kacchan a particularly hard swipe. When he blocked, I tried to catch his hands in the loop, which would have disqualified him. Unfortunately, he incinerated the tape before it even touched him and then backhanded me, knocking me back. 

I tried to jump over Kacchan, but he Blast Rushed up at me and punched at me again, though this time I Air Jumped away, landing on the side of a pillar. I pushed off of the pillar with eight percent One For All, aiming to get over Kacchan. Unfortunately, he just flew up to me, causing me to to jump up to the ceiling and kick off away from Kacchan. This time, I threw an Air Shot at him, blasting him back and me toward the bomb. For good measure, I threw a Bind at him, which I really should have done earlier. Without Kacchan to deal with, I realized that maybe I might be falling hard enough to damage the bomb, so I braked with air mana. While it didn't stop me completely, I slowed down enough that I touched down on the bomb relatively lightly. "HERO TEAM WINS!" All Might announced.

xoxoxo

After the battle ended, All Might had us meet up in the room where the rest of the class had watched our fight for a review of our fight. "Now," All Might said, "who can tell me who the MVP if this round was?"

Yaoyorozu raised her hand. "Surely it's Midoriya, right? He came up with the plan, and it would have gone without a hitch if the matchups had gone any differently."

I felt my cheeks heating up a bit. "N-no, surely the others deserve some of the credit too..."

Kacchan slapped me upside the head. "You won, idiot."

"Yeah, but you three and the elementals also..."

"I won't deny that everyone contributed, young Midoriya! However, you most certainly deserve the spot of MVP!"

My eyes watered a bit. "Thanks, everyone..."

"And unless there are any more questions, let us begin with the second match!" All Might loudly declared. I perked up at that. I was really excited to see everyone's Quirks in a fight.

xoxoxo

A/N: And now dimensional fuckery is an actual scientific term thanks to Kacchan. Because it made me laugh and that's about half of how my writing works.

And FYI, Deku's outfit is basically his outfit from the fantasy AU thing in that one outro, but with a cloak to make him more wizardy. Bakugou's outfit is mostly the same except for the changes noted. Everyone else is the same.

[dailyaudiobible]

08/30/2019 DAB Transcript

Job 34:1-36:33, 2 Cor 4:1-12, Ps 44:1-8, Pr 22:10-12

Today is the 30th day of August. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It's great to be here with you today on the, I guess, the eve of the final day of this month and the eve of when we’ll begin the family reunion here in the rolling hills of Tennessee. So, that's exciting. We've made this far in this year. I, probably, once a month mention, “I can't believe were here.” Like, it really does in so many ways feel like we just started the journey, like we’re still in the book of Genesis, but we have traveled so far, and through so many stories and so many things that have been brought out because of what's in the Scriptures. Right now, we’re working through the book of Job, which brings up plenty of things to be considered, especially things about what we think we know that we don't know. So, let's get back into it. We have a few more days before we will complete the book of Job. Job has been in pursuit of an audience with the Almighty God face-to-face where he would like God to explain to him why he is enduring such suffering. And it's more than just suffering. He believes that God is specifically judging him, and he wants to understand why. And, of course, Job's friends are trying to tell him that it's different than what he thinks. And, so we had this new voice coming to the mix yesterday, the youngest of the friends who has waited to speak until now and we’re in the middle of what he has to say. So, we’re reading from the New International Version this week. Job, chapter 34 through 36.

Commentary:

Alright. Let’s start in the Proverbs today and then jump back to Job for a second. So, the proverb says, “Drive out the mocker and out goes strife. Quarrels and insults are ended.” I mean, it’s worth just kind of meditating on that for a second, but even if we do, like we would end up going out, “yeah, I agree, throw out the mocker, fighting will go, quarrels and insults will end if there is no mockery. But normally only when we read something like this, we don't think we're the mocker. Like, we don't look in the mirror and realize how far we’ll take things to be right in argument or in a dispute. And it causes us to lose sight because we draw the lines in the sand and then we’re like we’ve gotta be right and we’re not paying attention to whether we are or not. And because the conflict just amps up, right? And then it becomes about winning. And we’ve lost the fact that these kind of conflict…conflict is how we solve problems. Like, this is how things get done, but we…we turn conflict into like a strategy, like how to defeat each other instead of defeating the problem that is causing the conflict. So, we start attacking each other instead of the problem. And that is what mocking does. So, if we…if we look up mocker and we try to find the origins of this word, what does this actually mean, then we find that it is…it is deeply rooted in scorn and contempt. It basically works like this. If you’re in a conflict with somebody - spouse, child, friend, coworker, whatever - you're in this conflict and then you start over…over the course of the conversation to look down on them and you begin to consider that their point of view is beneath your consideration, that they’re just wrong, well then we start to personalize the conflict and we can very easily start becoming condescending, arrogant, right? Scorn and contempt…and we use these to win the battle. We make it personal. In other words, we become the mocker. So, when we’ve lost our equilibrium, right, when the emotions have amped up and our face is all red and we’re saying things that we haven't really thought about saying, like when we lose sight of the problem and start fighting each other then what’s gonna follow? Pride, right? Arrogance. Like, it’s just gonna be there because we’re not trying to resolve a conflict anymore, we’re trying to win, we’re trying to be right, we’re trying to diminish and suppress the other person or the other person's point of view. The battle is about domination then. And, so, when that happens, and it's probably happened in everybody's life who’s hearing me, then we throw off the gloves, right? We’re not like sparring anymore, we’re like actually trying to really hurt somebody. And man, you can really hurt somebody with your words. If you are a mocker. So, basically Proverb had…Proverbs had one sentence for us that simply said, look, if the mocker is not a part of the conversation then the fighting and the quarrels and the insults will go away and disappear which will then allow us to participate in actual conflict resolution that does something good. And that's pretty tough thing to do when you like…like once…once the whole pot is simmering, right? Once you're in the heat of the moment it's pretty…it's pretty tough to shut that off. One person, you know, maybe a conflict is happening and it's going okay but somebody then says something that's just a little bit over the line. They got a little mad. They said something they probably shouldn't have said and then…then all bets are off, the whole thing is just blowing up. So, how can we…I mean conflict is necessary…like conflict is unavoidable. Nobody always sees eye to eye. Like, I love my wife and she loves me, and we've been together a very, very long time and we have a family and we are committed to each other and we are moving in the same direction and we are on the same page but we do not always agree with each other. So, we’re just simply not always going to agree in this world. We will find people who have different stories and different sets of convictions and are looking at things differently and we may not understand them, but we can't just mock them, or we can't just diminish them, we can't just try to dominate them. That doesn't do anything good. So, how can we can we step into those, kind of, tense times without bringing the mocker. Basically…basically we have to walk in with a set of convictions and believe that our hearts are good toward each other. Like, that's the baseline. My heart is good toward you. Your heart is good toward me. And when we believe that then…then we’re not really trying to dominate anybody. Like, we’re not on our defense waiting for that one thing to get said that's gonna set the whole thing off. When we know that our hearts are good toward each other in this then our defenses fall because there's nothing to defend if you not being attacked. What is there to defend? And when we believe that our hearts are good towards each other then we can remind ourselves, there’s a problem here. We’re not seeing eye to eye on this particular issue. That doesn't mean we’re not seeing eye to eye in life as people. We’ve got this problem. Let’s figure this out. Like, let’s attack this problem and not attack each other while we’re at it. So, let's will watch for the mocker. I mean, that little one sentence in Proverbs just says so much, would change so much in our day-to-day lives.

And then there's something really, really interesting that ties into this that we find in the book of Job today. Something that Elihu said to Job, and it's really interesting because it hits us between the eyes. Elihu said, “beware of turning to evil, which you seem to prefer to affliction.” So, let’s think about that for second. We find ourselves in seasons of suffering and…and…and it's hard whether that be that we’re suffering in our mind like with depression or anxiety or that be that we’re suffering physically or we’re grieving or that we just we feel like trapped in our lives…that like there's no wiggle room on any side. We can’t get ahead. And, so, we feel like were suffering or we’re being forced to learn endurance and we do continue to endure, but things don't seem to be getting better. Then, what is the invitation? Like, what starts percolating inside of us? We start getting angry, we start getting resentful and as that grows we start throwing our hands up and say, “what do I gotta do here” until we want to just chuck the whole thing. And that is the point at which we start saying God has abandoned me. God doesn't see me or maybe even so far as I'm not sure there is even a god out there. So, eventually we’re like it doesn't matter anyway and then we start…you know…we start going down an evil path because we prefer that to the affliction that we are suffering. So, we’re essentially saying, “well, I waited, and God didn't show up. So, I'm going to do my own thing”, which just is like being at the bottom with a shovel trying to see how far further we can go. In the same way that when argument gets going and we become the mocker, we don't just shut off and go, “oh my goodness. I am so sorry. I'm being the mocker here. I'm sorry for what I just said. I don't mean that.” Like, that rarely happens. So, we see today, the Scriptures, a couple of behaviors that are really volatile and really, really unhelpful in our lives that we get drawn into because we would prefer that over whatever it is we’re facing. So, if we’re in an argument we don't necessarily want to do productive conflict resolution. It's easier to be the mocker and just get into a war even though that just breaks our hearts in the end. Or we may be enduring through something that we just throw our hands up in the air and go to the dark side, basically, because we would rather be on the dark side than facing affliction. Neither one of those paths end anywhere good. And, so, let’s take them to heart today, as we examine our own lives.

Prayer:

And we invite You Holy Spirit into that because we’re all guilty of all of this. We have for sure been the mocker. We have, for sure, just thrown her hands up and given up and gone…gone and done destructive things just because we were enduring an affliction of some sort. Help us. Help us God because these are just indicators of when we take over in our own…like when things are not working as we had expected, and we take over and make things worse. Come Holy Spirit, help us to at least pause and listen for Your voice in our lives because there's always that meet, there’s always that moment of choice before we say that thing or do that thing, there's always a choice. Come into our choices we ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, and certainly where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be sure to stay tuned and stay connected in any way that you can.

We certainly want to be in prayer over and along with our brothers and sisters who are making their way here to the rolling hills of Tennessee where The Daily Audio Bible Family Reunion will take place tomorrow and Sunday. I’m looking forward to it…been looking forward to it for a long time. So, certainly our prayers are with everyone who are traveling. Can't wait to see your smiling faces here in the…here in the Nashville area. And we’ll see you soon.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobythe.com. I thank you with all of my heart for your partnership as we continue to navigate forward. It's always been a community and it’s a community effort and we wouldn't be doing this if we didn't do this together. So, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, right next to the hotline button, this new hotline button that we've been talking about, or if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And as always, if you do have a prayer request or comment 877-942-4253 is the number you can call. There's a couple of other numbers that you can call. If you are in the UK or Europe, you can dial 44-20-3608-8078 or if you are in Australia or that part of the world 61-3-8820-5459 is the number to call or no matter where you are in the world there's a little red hotline button in the app now if you've updated and you gotta do is press that button.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi this is my first time calling. My name is Rachel. I am really just prayerful for my family right now and I’m hoping you all can pray with me. We’ve been working to kind of just to honor God with what we’re doing but we have some difficulties because my dad just really struggles, and we don’t really know how to reach out to him or how to honor him in a way that he can respect or understand to show him God’s love. He’s just really hurting. He has been for a long time. He doesn’t want to open up about it or anything like that. And he often tries to push all of us, his kids and his wife, away as much as possible. And we just don’t really know what we’re doing on that. So, I would appreciate your guy’s prayers. Thank you so much for this time and for listening to my request. Bye.

It’s hard to know where to start but my husband and I both are in Bible College for theology degrees, but in order to do that I had to work a little more and he had to work less. So, he’s staying home with the kids and he does a great job and I’m still home sometimes, but I have lost the chance to homeschool them and to work in the garden and with the animals and all the things that I love to do. But we have decided to do this in service to the Lord. I’m just worried and sad. I miss being home with my children and I’m so thankful husband is there to disciple them while I’m not. But the pain and the sadness of it is real. I miss them terribly and I don’t want to do the wrong thing. And I also work at night. And, so, it’s very, very hard on me physically and hard on my family. And I pray that the Lord would bring comfort and resolution and I know that His grace is sufficient for everything. I am praying for release from working at night. For peace and understanding that He knows exactly what He wants for us and that he’s orchestrating everything down to the smallest detail for his glory and for our good…

Wow, this is incredible to be able to press a little red button and then make your appeal to the Lord and with your brothers and sisters. I thank all of you for your love and care and concern. If you’re listening to this, it’s because you do care and you believe in prayer and you love the Lord. So, this morning I just bring to you my son Adam who’s been sick for many, many years. Really didn’t know what it was. Finally we just went to see some more holistic doctors, got him on a diet and he’s just much better. But I think we’re finding that a lot of it is emotional or psychological. He has a solid career and so on but the money that has been spent on seeing doctors in the process has really caught up on him. And, so it’s eating alive on him now as he wants to be out of debt. So, anyway, I hold him before the Lord, and I thank you so much for your prayers. God bless every one of you that are listening to this today. Keep fighting the good fight of faith.

Hey Daily Audio Bible family, this is John Corrado calling from Bethlehem Pennsylvania, well, in New York City on top of a roof on a bright sunny, sparkly, shiny, new day here. Well, it’s in the afternoon, so the day isn’t new but every moment where made new in Christ, right? So, it’s brand-new right now. Listen, I just wanted to reach out in advance of the family reunion that’s taking place this weekend to pray a prayer over everything that’s going to take place there this weekend. I’m gonna get right into that now. Father God thank You so much for this amazing day, a day that was never promised to us. Thank You for Your grace and mercy and Your kindness Father God and everything that You do to us and for us and through us through Your word Lord God, that we endeavor to the end and we place ourselves in every day. Thank You for how You’re working in our hearts and our hearts and transforming us more to be like Christ through Your word Father, as we lean into You further and further You make us more and more like Your son as we grow and develop the kingdom here on earth that will eventually be one day all Yours again Father God. Thank You so much for the family reunion coming up this weekend Lord. I ask You to bless each and every aspect of the reunion, everything Father God from all the travel, all the travel plans, all the arrangements, all the coordination, all the events. I ask for special blessing for Brian and Jill and his family for China for Michael and for SarahJane for anyone that’s going to be involved for the YMCA aspect of it Lord God. And I especially ask a blessing over each and every one of us that’s going to be in attendance, that we can be in great unity with one another Lord God. I’m so excited. Thank You for the opportunity to be able to come together we ask for a…

Hey fellow DABbers, this is Emily of Jim and Emily in Houston. We love you and where praying for the family gathering, family reunion this weekend. We wish we could be there. I really want to see my More sister’s and Chris and Beth, and we just love you guys so much. But we are going to Wales on September 25th. We are moving there to be missionaries and to help a church plant renovate a closed Victorian era church building turning it into a community outreach center and a working church and we need your prayers. Margo in Liberia, you have inspired us. Please pray for us. Paul in Wales, we are believing for revival and what we specifically need prayer for is that someone would lease our house. We’re packing up stuff. It fills me with oodles of anxiety going through stuff. So, please pray for me in that. Pray for what needs to be sold gets sold. We’re putting stuff in storage. And for all those details. Houston does have a heat embargo on shipping animals. So, please pray that on September 25th we have no problems with heat so that our kitty can come with us. And please keep praying for revival in Wales. We love you guys and I just have to say, Brian and Jill, thank you so much for this podcast. You were with us in 2014. Sorry, in __. And may God work miracles there and we trust that He’ll be with us in the UK as God works miracles there too. Thank you. We love you.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 3: An Unexpected Journey

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: DRAMA, panic attacks, mentions of past death Relationships: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Heimdall (Marvel) Additional Tags: Loki is Impatient, Loki is Kind Of A Jerk, Reader is Impertinent, Reader is Kind Of A Jerk. Hey Everybody Makes Mistakes Summary: Reader is afflicted with a mysterious illness that has slowly been killing her. Salvation comes, but the price is high.

“What are you doing here _____?”  Your manager demanded.  You flinched, and concentrated on looking healthy.  You knew you were failing, despite all the makeup you’d put on to hide your ill health. She marched right up to you and tried to take a box of frozen, unbaked sandwich roll dough out of your shaking hands. You held on as tightly as you could.

“I’ve gotta work.” You said, voice small and weak. “Gotta make my rent.”

“I didn’t schedule you today.” She said tersely. You shrugged.

“I traded with Anette.” You’d pleaded with Anette. You’d lied to Anette, told her you were feeling so much better. You weren’t, but you were pretty sure you would feel so much worse if you got evicted.

You were sick. You were too sick to be doing your job, honestly, but at least you weren’t contagious. No one knew what was wrong with you. You’d paid doctors way too much money, just for them to give you clashing diagnosis, and prescribe medicines you couldn’t afford.

You had finally gotten one to admit that they had no idea what was actually wrong with you, but you knew what was wrong. You had been inflicted with a slow, wasting death. You had grabbed a vengeful god by the hand, and intended to demand something of him. No wonder he had cursed you.

That’s what the thing on your hand was: a curse, branded into your skin, a punishment for your insolence. You had made Tara promise not to tell anyone what had actually happened back in the tower, and whenever anyone asked about it, you just told them you had gotten very drunk when you were in New York, and had decided to get a body modification. Your manager didn’t care about it, since it was so easily covered up by the gloves you were required to wear.

What she did care about, was your dropping performance, and your failing health. Working in a bakery, even a tiny, grocery store bakery, required a certain amount of vigilance and effort, and over the past six months, you had slowly lost your grip on both of those things. Much like you were losing your grip on the box of frozen dough.

You set the box down on the counter, and began arranging the dough on a large sheet pan. You only dropped a few of them, and none of those hit the floor. Your manager followed you, hands on her hips.

“_____, I can’t allow this. You are definitely still sick. Both HR and the Health Department will be down on me like a ton of bricks if I let you work when you’re sick like this.”

“I can stand, and I can use my hands.” You protested. “What more do you need?”

“A competent worker!” She snapped. You knew it was only frustration. She liked you as much as a manager was allowed. She wouldn’t fire you for this, since you hadn’t done anything against the rules. But corporate might fire you, if you missed any more shifts on account of being sick.

Beyond the looming threat of homelessness and not being able to pay your bills, the loss of your job would spell the loss of your last remaining anchor to other human beings. Tara checked up on you when she could, and sent you texts every day, but she had her own job and her own life. Your father, likewise, still had to travel a lot for his own job. When you turned to your online communities for help with understanding what had happened to you, they quickly came together to discover that the man you had grabbed in the tower was none other than the outcast Asgardian prince, Loki, the scourge of New York, an extremely controversial figure who, five years ago, had tried to take over the world. He led an alien army into New York and caused terrible death and destruction. Now, he showed up more and more often in Avengers custody. Some surmised that it was some kind of rehabilitation program, especially now that Asgard was being rebuilt in Iceland.

You hadn’t known any of these things, and you didn’t get much chance to learn more. Considering you compromised, the communities had banned you, and blocked you entirely. Finding communities that were more friendly to the idea of Loki was no walk in the park either; most of those catered to a particular type of person you considered pretty damn creepy. They didn’t have what you needed, but they did have lots of…desires. And pictures, so at least you’d been able to confirm that the man from the tower was indeed Loki, brother of Thor.

So now you were nearly alone, your only reliable point of contact was your job, and you might be on the brink of losing that as well. That would leave the rest of your presumably short life with nothing but the torment of your dreams.

That was part of the curse, these terrible dreams. They stole your strength and haunted your waking hours, always the same. There was a soft, velvety darkness that you wanted so badly to sink into. It was rest, glorious rest. It was gentleness, stillness, quiet and peace. It was everything your body and mind desperately wanted. And he was there to deny you, every night he denied you that peace. He dragged you away from that welcoming darkness, fought to keep you from its hypnotic draw. He would never let you rest, like a demon, slowly draining you of your strength and health. He bore the mark he had inflicted you with, flaunting it like an insult to you.

You wished you could go back, wished you could apologize.  That you could tell him you simply hadn’t recognized him with his hair grown out, without the armor, without the horns. Without the alien invaders. You hadn’t meant any offence.

You also wished you could yell. Scream your anger and swing your fists. A little touch on the hand was no reason to do this to someone! You were just an ordinary woman who had made a small mistake. You didn’t deserve this! If you ever saw him again, you’d give him proper cause to curse you.

You heard a sound then, like a freight truck barreling down a street too small for it, like a hurricane wind. You shouldn’t be able to hear any of those things this far inside the building. The world trembled, and a burst of brightness outshone even the neon lights.

“The hell was that?” Your manager demanded. “Ladies, are you okay?” You and your coworkers chimed in with soft affirmatives. “Okay. We need to stay put and-“

The sound of screams began floating back from the entrance of the store.

“Nevermind.” She said. “Get to the back room, and out the emergency exit. Stay together.”

She led the little group of you out between the displays of cinnamon rolls and cornbread, all of you crouching low. Your hand ached, as if the mark was being pulled from inside. That couldn’t be a good sign. Nothing had made it react before, not for months and months, not since the initial cursing.

The world around you seemed to lose some of its reality. Everything moved slowly. You felt hot. There was a loud, heavy throbbing in your head, and you collapsed against a stand full of cupcakes, unable to stand by yourself any longer.

So this was how it ended. You finally pushed too hard, and now this sickness was going to claim you among the cupcakes. You never thought you would die at work, but at least this way your body wouldn’t molder in your little apartment for a week, before Tara or your father finally found you.

“_____, what are you doing?” Your manager hissed, and took your hand. Agony shot up your arm, drawing a rough cry from you. “Oh my god, _____, are you okay? Come on, we’ve got to go!”

One of your coworkers screamed. You propped yourself up on one elbow and looked where she was pointing, terrified of what you might see.

He strode purposefully out of the produce section, and your world plunged into frigid horror.

Foreign armor. Dark leather and gleaming metal, just like all the footage you had watched, over and over again.

No.

Shining golden horns, curving a foot above his forehead, the silhouette unmistakable.

No.

The entire loss prevention department surrounded him, shouting, but unable to do anything. They weren’t equipped to deal with anybody more dangerous than the occasional shoplifter, not this. This was never supposed to happen. He pushed right passed them, paying no attention. His eyes locked on yours, wearing the smile of a demon.

No!

Your manager tugged your hand urgently, sending spikes of pain up your arm, causing you to collapse further. Cupcakes scattered as you hit the floor. From this vantage point, he looked even bigger, some kind of giant, impossible to stop.

Your manager released your hand and ran, just as he reached down and hauled you to your feet. You couldn’t even find it in you to be mad at her for abandoning you. She had kids at home. You had no one.

Besides, he had you in his grip now. You were beyond saving.

As he set you back to standing, the fever clouding your brain began to clear and strength returned to your limbs. You drew a deep breath, and it was like expelling sickness from your lungs. You felt almost good. Even with your coworkers retreating as fast as they could, with screaming customers rushing past, with Loss Prevention shouting and trying to assure you that everything was going to be okay, and standing in the far too strong grasp of the entire planet’s number one enemy, you felt better than you had in half a year.

“Ah, there it is.” He murmured, still completely ignoring all the shouting and demands. “Looks like I was right.”

You turned slowly to look up at him, stared him straight in the eyes. They looked so normal.

Then you smashed the heel of your palm upwards into his nose with all of your returned strength.

His head did not snap back, his nose did not break, his grip on you did not loosen in the least. He did look just a little surprised, but nothing else that was supposed to happen, happened. You really shouldn’t have given up your self-defense courses. But you hadn’t been able to afford them, and could they really teach you how to fight a god anyway?

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment you thought your head was going to roll. Then he burst into derisive laughter.

“Oh! She has spirit!” He exclaimed. “Not much common sense, though. Disappointing.”

“Not here to impress you!” You began to struggle, now that you knew you could. He wrapped one arm around your throat and pulled you flat against him.

“Heimdall.” He called, a word you didn’t recognize. It must have been some kind of magic, because seconds later, a flash of multicolored light blinded you, and a feeling of weightless set your stomach twisting.

For a few seconds your world was flight and light, then the sky seemed to spit you out onto a wide green field.

“Hmph.” He grunted. “Too far north again. We really must get that fixed.”

You saw men in the distance, one approaching at great speed. Loki swore quietly and released you. You dashed immediately. You heard him swear again, but only pushed yourself faster. You could see a river just a few dozen yards away, and you were a very good swimmer.

“Not that way!” He shouted, not far enough behind you as far as you were concerned. No way were you going to stop.

The ground beneath your feet gave way, toppling you forward. Within moments you were engulfed in sucking, freezing mud. What the hell was this? Quicksand? Quickmud? A National Geographic in the doctor’s office spoke of bog mummies found in Europe, but there was nothing like that in Iowa. Just where were you now?

Loki dragged you out of the mud before you could sink entirely, just as someone bellowed his name behind you.

“Oh good. You’re here. A proper welcoming party.” He said evenly in the face of his enraged brother. “I assume Heimdall tattled?”

“Loki, what have you done?” Thor demanded. “I told you to wait! Just a few days! You really couldn’t give it just a few days?”

“There was no time!” He argued. “She was dying when I found her. Tell him.” He shoved you forward. You tried to run for it again, but he caught you before you got more than a few steps. Taking you solidly by the shoulders, he leaned down and looked you right in your mud-smeared face.

“If you try to run again, I will let the land devour you.” He threatened.

“Went to a lot of trouble to kidnap me, just to let me die.” You snapped.

He sneered. “I’ve been known to change my mind on less than a whim.”

You looked at Thor, who shrugged slightly as if to say it was certainly possible. But Thor would help you, wouldn’t he? He would save you from this monster. Wouldn’t he?

Then why wasn’t he doing it?

“Please.” You pleaded quietly. Thor did nothing.

Loki took your chin in one hand and turned your head back to him.

“No.” He said. “You don’t look at him. You look at me, and you listen. You were mere steps from death, and I have saved you. Twice.” He wiped some of the mud from your cheek, shaking it off his fingers with obvious distaste.

“You’re the one who did this to me!” You shouted.

“I did not throw you into that bog.” He said.

“No, but you brought me here! And you cursed me in the first place!” You were aware that you shouldn’t be yelling at someone who was pretty much holding all of the cards, but one of Earth’s mightiest heroes was just right there, and he would help you eventually.

“I did no such thing-“ He began.

“Bullshit! You burned my hand back in the Avenger’s Tower, just because I touched you! And I’m sorry for that, but you went way overboard, cursing me with a slow death and constant nightmares like that! There was no call to go that far!”

He looked taken off guard for just one moment. “Nightmares? They were nightmares to you?”

“You didn’t even tell her what was going on, did you?” Thor accused. “Do you have any idea how much heat we are going to take for this?”

“You knew?” You shouted at him. “You knew he was doing this?”

Thor shook his head. “No, I was only just notified-“

“And the tower?” You continued. “When he cursed me, why didn’t you do anything?”

“It’s not a curse!” Loki protested. “Look, it’s on me too.” He held out his hand, but you completely ignored him.

“You were just letting me die! You were there when it happened, you saw it happen, and you didn’t even check to see what was going on!” Your temper was completely enflamed; you were shouting in the faces of gods. It was idiotic, but once you had started, half a year of stress and pain and fear came boiling out and you couldn’t stop. Loki was still trying to say something, but your anger was loud in your ears, drowning him out. “I know you don’t know me, but isn’t handling him part of your job? You brought him back here, you let him back onto the world. Why are you just standing there? Why haven’t you done anything to save me from this monster?”

Your voice rang over the field as your words reached their end, all of the bile poured out. They were both just looking at you while you caught your breath. A tiny trickle of worry wormed into your chest. You’d gone too far, hadn’t you? There had to be some kind of reason Thor hadn’t swooped in to rescue you. He was a king, he had so much to do. You were some nobody from the middle of nowhere. Insignificant. Regret grew behind the worry.

“I’m sorry-“ You began. Loki’s hand cupped your cheek; very gently snaked around to cradle the back of your head. Your breath caught. No one had touched you like that in years.

Then you saw the ice in his eyes, felt his fingers clench in your hair, and it snapped you right out of it.

“I have shared in your suffering.” He said. “You aren’t alone in this.” The words would have been comforting, if they hadn’t been said in such a threatening tone. If he hadn’t been wrenching your hair. “You have struck me.  You have disrespected me. You have insulted me and my family. Now you will listen to me. This-“ He held his right palm in front of your face, displaying the exact same mark you had. “-is an unknown affliction. I did not curse you with it. What fool would cast a curse that affected himself as well? That draining poison that stole your strength did the same to me. Ask him. He saw it happening.”

He turned your head forcibly to look at Thor, who held his hands up. “Okay, let’s calm down now. Brother, be careful.”

“You felt stronger the instant I touched you, didn’t you? Yes, you did. Strong enough to fight. Strong enough to run. When I first saw you, you could no longer stand on your own, and now look at you. Throwing tantrums in the faces of gods. That was me, that was because I came and rescued you. There was no time to explain. You were going to die, right there among your baked goods. I prevented that from happening.”

You tried to shake your head, but his grip was too tight. He felt it though.

“You need more proof? What about this then? What happens when I do this?” He took your marked hand in his, again seeming gentle, except for the fact that you could not move away.

The instant your bare palms came into contact, you felt the mark react. Like flipping a switch to power up a generator, a buzz of power rushed up your arm, trailing glowing runes in its wake. Just like back in the tower, you felt rooted to the spot, though Loki pulled you forward to press his forehead against yours, to get right into your personal space. Runes coursed over his cheek, infected his eye with their glow. The sight in your left eye became blurry, and you knew it was happening to you again too. It didn’t hurt this time, but it was overwhelming. A feeling of being filled up, like having too much blood, like your skin was too tight, and you needed to shed it. It robbed you of sense, of any thought other than getting out of your binding skin and becoming bigger than you ever had before.

“Do you feel that?” He asked through labored breaths. “I knew the instant I touched you that proximity was key. Too far apart for too long, and our lives drain away. But close up, we revitalize each other.” You saw light escape his mouth, unable to be contained even by him. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying now, unfamiliar power overtaking your mind. You were shaking uncontrollably by now, your heart hammering your ribs.

“Enough, Loki!” Thor grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him away. “She can’t take this! Let go!”

Loki was drawn away from you, but kept tight hold on your hand, fingers laced with yours.

“Not until she understands!” He snarled. But Thor again took your wrists, and fully separated you.

You tumbled to the ground, groaning and nearly senseless. Thor wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, partly to hold him up, and partly to hold him back. He was scolding Loki fiercely, though you could barely make out the words. You lay back on the grass and let the world spin around you.

Moments passed, and then Thor knelt beside you.

“I am so sorry about this.” He said, scooping you up, and handing you over to Loki, who carried you effortlessly, despite your being dead weight. “You were not supposed to arrive here this way. But you were in danger, and we are going to take care of you. And Loki isn’t going to do that again, is he?”

Loki grimaced, but nodded. “I might have gone a bit overboard. Might. But if this thing is a curse, it affects me as well. I will get to the bottom of it. Until then, yes, we will ‘take care’ of you. I suppose it’s only fair.”

“Could you have said that any more ominously?”  Thor asked.

“What? What did I say? I just agreed with you, what’s wrong with that?”

“Did you have to say it like a looming supervillain?”

“Thor, I am carrying her, I can’t not loom.”

“You are carrying her like you’re on your way to drop her on some railroad tracks.”

“I’m sorry, are you carrying her? Because it looks to me like I am the one carrying her. Do you want to carry her?”

“I think I can walk.” You spoke up. They certainly bickered like ordinary siblings.

“Are you sure?” Thor asked. You hesitated, then shook your head. While being in contact with Loki did make you feel better, your legs still felt like jelly, and you were definitely still dizzy from all that light being inside you.

“Was that magic?” You asked. Your voice felt small and far away. “Is that what magic is?”

“It was a kind of magic.” Loki said slowly. “Either very old, or very new. Or perhaps very obscure. It feels familiar, but I can’t quite place it yet.”

“Why is it trying to kill us?”

“I don’t think it is.” He explained. “Rather, I don’t think it has a motivation. I don’t think it had a mind. It’s just something that exists, and there are consequences for interacting with it, however inadvertently. I don’t think you are to blame for this, and for once, I don’t think I am either. Until proven otherwise, I am going to be treating this as a coincidence that we just have to deal with.

But I believe it’s abundantly clear that we have to stay in the same area at least. Hopefully not touching all the time; that would be terribly inconvenient for the both of us. But not far apart. And since, as you might imagine, I can’t go traipsing all over Midgard-I have duties, you know-“

“And a hel of a reputation.” Thor interjected. Loki glared.

“Yes, and that. Because of those things, it is you who had to come here. If there had been time, I would have simply showed up at your home and tried to talk it out with you. But there was no time.”

“You had six months.” You pointed out. “And you’re just figuring this out now? You had that mark the whole time, and you never wondered what it was?”

Loki pursed his thin lips. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or amused.

“Tell me, do you live a busy life?” He asked.

“Well…I work a lot. Or at least, I did. I worked as much as I could. I needed every shift possible, just to get by, especially when I had to start going to the doctors.”

“Mhm. I co-rule an entire nation that is attempting to rebuild itself from scratch. I am busy. The mark was a curiosity, the sickness was inconvenient, but I had much more important things to do with my time.”

“Oh.” You said, and went quiet for a time.

They finally approached the other man you had seen in the distance, the one who hadn’t moved at all. He stood on a small, stone pavilion, gazing out into the distance. He looked even taller than your escorts, dark skinned, wearing warm brown leathers and an ornate bronze helmet with flanges in the shape of a crescent moon. Asgardians seemed to have a thing for elaborate headwear.

Before him was a large sword, partly buried in an odd contraption unlike anything you had ever seen before. He glanced at you with the kindest and most beautiful eyes you had seen all day.

“She is a guest.” Loki said as he passed.

“I know this looks incredibly shady, but-“ Thor began.

“I will let you know when they are coming.” The man said in a deep, even voice. Thor thanked him, then hurried after his brother, who hadn’t waited.

Loki crested a low hillock, and the skeleton of a city came into view. Even from here, you could see teams of builders at work, their construction efforts kicking up clouds of dust. From the looks of it, the place was eventually going to be huge, but for now, it was little more than foundations.

It was interesting to look at. You’d never seen an embryonic city before.

“Welcome to Asgard.” Thor said. “It’s a bit of a work in progress, but we’ll find a place for you.”

“I’ve already got one.” Loki said. “It just needs to be properly refurnished.”

You felt much better now, though your wet, muddy clothes were getting very cold. All the construction made you a bit apprehensive, especially all that dust. This was kind of like enemy territory you were being brought into. If you went inside, would you ever come back out?

“I’m pretty sure I can stand now.” You said. If you were going in, it should be on your own two feet. Loki obligingly set you down.  “Um, my name is _____.” You said. It was likely that they already knew who you were, but control of your own name demonstrated what small personal power you still had.

“Pleased to meet you.” Thor said. “Stay close to us, and don’t stray. Security doesn’t know you yet.”

You did as he said, but you still felt vulnerable with so many eyes on you. Of course people would stop and look if their rulers came strolling down the street. And they did attract attention; Loki with his shining horns, Thor with his resplendent cape. And you, sandwiched between, tiny in comparison, wearing a mud-drenched, company issue uniform that had always fit you poorly. Function was far more important than fashion in your line of work. But the people still stared.

Asgardians came in a surprising range of colors and features, but they were all pretty tall compared to you. They wore unfamiliar fashions, and some were carrying loads that you were sure a regular human couldn’t handle. They looked human, but they weren’t the same as you.

Construction continued all around you; even the roads were unfinished. You were led along the only areas that were fully constructed, workers rushing to and fro all around you. They all stared, especially the kids, many of whom seemed to be trying to help out with the building. You didn’t know how legal that was, but maybe child labor laws were different in Asgard. Or maybe they just needed every available hand, or had no concept of babysitters.

An adolescent girl energetically sweeping up construction debris sent a large cloud of dust into the street. It enveloped the three of you, and suddenly, you were no longer there.

You were back in Iowa, in a Summer drier than you could remember. The cornfields were dead for miles around, the destruction on such a massive scale that it had actually lowered the ambient humidity of the area. The town was mostly empty, streets choked with dust that stirred at the slightest breeze. You couldn’t breathe the dust.

You held your breath, lips pressed tightly together, heart speeding. You’d stopped walking, and someone was talking to you, but these were not your neighbor’s voices. You didn’t know them. The dust hadn’t settled. You couldn’t breathe the dust.

Panic beginning to rise, you frantically searched your soiled shirt for some patch of cloth that wasn’t soaked in mud. You held it over your mouth and nose, carefully trying to breathe through it. You couldn’t breathe the dust!

The dust used to be people.

A strong hand grasped your arm and dragged you out of the cloud. You looked into the face of a murderer and yelped in fear. The dust, a killer, an unfamiliar place…

“What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling sick again?” Concern over your wellbeing?

“The dust.” You choked out. Where were you? “The dust. Don’t breathe the dust. Cover your mouth, don’t breathe the dust. Please don’t kill me. Everybody’s already gone. Stay away from the dust.”

“What are you talking about?” A demand. You couldn’t answer.

“What’s going on? Look, she’s having some kind of fit.”

“We’re almost there, get her inside. Get her out of the dust.”

The Scourge of New York led you along, you couldn’t tell how far, but by the time they had brought you inside, you had started to calm down and remember your situation.

“S-s-sorry.” You said, still trembling. “I-I’m just overwhelmed.” It was clear from their faces that neither of them believed you.

“Just come along.” Loki commanded. “You need to bathe.”

You wouldn’t remember the corridors or the rooms, but you would remember the bath. It was bigger than any bathtub you had ever seen, and it was set into the floor.

How were you going to explain this? Tell them you had a phobia of dust? Would they buy that?

You sank into the bath and tried to let it wash you away.

[darkhymns-fic]

Bakery Rivalries of Love

Two couples, two bakeries, and the beginning of a rivalry that will only leave sweets in their wake. It's Ace Baker’s Maya Fey and Co. vs. Lloydonuts!

Fandoms: Ace Attorney, Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Phoenix Wright/Maya Fey, Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3  Notes: Written a long time ago just to include mine and SkyWrite's ships together in some way. Originally shorter, then added more to it to fit Valentine's Day but then that day passed.. so, Happy Late Valentines??? This thing is like a year old I'm sorry.

“We only use the finest nuts!” shouted a spiky-haired baker across the counter. He pounded the flat of his hands against it, kicking up spare flour into the air. His arm, in a furious motion, pointed straight at the lady’s face. “You’ll go nuts for our walnut bread!”

The small old lady from across the counter, her hair tied up in a silver bun, started to cough as a cloud of flour invaded her space. “Oh – oh dear…”

“Nick! We’ve been through this!” Maya shook her head at her baker assistant, meanwhile handing the old lady a paper bag full of freshly baked goods. “Sorry about that. Here’s your order! Have a nice day!”

Phoenix self-consciously scratched the back of his head. His apron was smudged from his furious dough kneading, while the sleeves of his suits also sported some stains. Why he insisted on wearing a suit to his job at the bakery, no one really knew. Just another one of Phoenix’s weird little quirks. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I just sometimes really want to point and shout…”

“Well, keep a lid on it! You’re scaring away the customers when you do that.” She clasped her hands before her, smiling wide as an idea lit up her eyes. “Just put all the energy into your bread making! When you get the urge to shout, just shout into the dough!”

“…Is that sanitary?”

“I don’t know! Probably!” Then Maya gave a little shift of her eyes, walking over to the window of their little bakery shop. It was a bit of a crowded place with its numerous tables that barely let most pass through to the counter, and one houseplant that looked exceedingly out of place. (Still, it was very charming to most customers! It even had a little nameplate on it called Charley.) Maya had to maneuver a bit to get to her desired location.

“Besides, we have to up our game a little if we want to out-bake the new guys from across the street!”

Phoenix just felt a little more confused. “Isn’t that mostly a donut shop though? They don’t really bake much of anything else..”

“Oh, Nick! Don’t you understand?” Maya shook her head, bits of flour stuck to both her face and hair. (With all that long hair, Phoenix had suggested that maybe she should wear a hair net? For safety violations? She never got back to him on that). “They’re new and hip, and everyone’s always in the mood for donuts! You can’t say the same for walnut bread!”

“No way! Everyone loves walnut bread!”

“And don’t you see their menu outside? They have a huge range of selections for just donuts! They sure do use a lot of fruit jelly… and they even have a mascot for their business!” She mimicked Phoenix’s furious pointing, using it to target at a large green and white dog that sat outside the shop, relaxing quite peacefully in the sun.

“But… isn’t that just their pet?”

“It’s their mascot!” Maya argued. “And what do we have? A houseplant! We need to re-invent our look! We need to make Ace Baker’s Maya Fey and Co. the talk of the town! Then all the bored teenagers will want to come to our place to hang and eat baguettes!”

“Yeah, uh, about that name…”

“Hurry, Nick! Let’s start by fixing up the sign! I’ll get the paint, and you get the ladder!”

“You mean a stepladder.”

“Not this again!” She untied her apron and threw it at Phoenix’s face as she ran off to the supply room. “Still gotta be so narrowminded…”

Phoenix slowly pulled the clothing away from his head. (And how did I get wrapped up in this again...?)

“Lloyd? What are you looking at?”

While it was normal for Lloyd to get bored throughout the day, he usually stayed by the counter to get the donuts ready for the customers, or to help with the oven in the back, or to look over Colette’s shoulder in wonder as she made cute little animal designs on most of the glazed donuts. Instead, he pressed his face against the window, eyes squinted in heavy suspicion.

“…I swore I saw someone pointing at us,” he said, unsure.

Colette carefully wiped away donut crumbs and chocolate frosting from her gloves onto her apron. “Oh! You mean from the bakers across the street? They seemed nice. I haven’t gone there yet though. I really want to try their walnut bread!”

“Yeah, that does sound pretty good…” Lloyd then backed away, a small frown on his face as he thought hard. “Still, we gotta make sure we keep up! They’ve been here longer, so it’s probably easy for them to get the regular customers and all!”

“Hmm, I think we’ve been doing well! People really like our fruit donuts! That makes me happy.” Colette bounced a bit on her toes, her hair neatly tied in a bun, along with a hair net so that no stray strands could get into their baked work.

“Of course they like them! That was a really good idea of yours, Colette!” Lloyd then held up his thumb and forefinger, looking satisfied as he thought on past accomplishments. “Also, gotta say, that logo of mine that I made really did the trick! Now whenever people see that, they’ll just think Lloydonuts!”

Colette nodded to that. That same logo was on both of their aprons; a cartoonish version of Lloyd’s head, decked out in a baker hat and holding a whisk. It was just so cute! It really was a step up from what their past logo designer had tried to do… Lloyd had been a bit unhappy at that. “I do still think the other one was okay, too.”

“Agh, but he ruined my handsome face!”

Colette could only laugh at Lloyd’s little outburst. She supposed the past design was a bit weird-looking…

Suddenly there was a little clatter outside, loud enough to get Colette’s attention from deeper in the shop. Lloyd quickly turned back, peering past the painted Lloydonuts logo on the glass.

A black-haired woman was standing outside the bakery, just beneath a ladder (or a stepladder? He always got those confused) as she shouted quite loudly at the person who stood atop it. Whoever was up there seemed to be fixing up the shop’s sign.

“Good job, Nick! Now make my smile just a little bit cuter! No, wait, that’s too lopsided! Honestly, Nick, how did you ever graduate from art school?” She nudged the ladder to get that person’s attention.

“Maya, I never even learned how to draw! And I didn’t go to – ahh!” A spiky-haired man wobbled while standing on top of the (step)ladder, holding precariously onto a paintbrush. His arms flailed as he did so, and said paintbrush then made an unflattering black streak across the painting of a young lady’s face, just underneath her nose.

The woman, who looked very much like the painted version, put her hands on her hips. “Nick! You gave me a mustache! That’s not nice!”

“You almost knocked me over, Maya!”

“Now how we are going to fix this? I can’t just grow a mustache! It’s not right!”

“I could have actually broken my back, you know!”

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic.”

Colette by then, had joined Lloyd’s side, both of them looking curiously at the two bakers. Like them, they also wore aprons over their regular clothes, although seeing bakers decked out in a suit and some strange dress was a bit out of the ordinary. (Lloyd, insisting on wearing his bright red jacket and suspenders, had no room to judge.) Although their rival bakers argued quite a bit, there was a hint of a smile on both their faces. Colette found that admirable – that even when they disagreed, they still cared about each other a lot!

Lloyd, however, was focused on something else entirely. “Hey! They’re copying my logo!”

Colette raised her eyes to the sign. Oh. Well, it did look a bit similar… The shape of the round face was very much like Lloyd’s, though with long black hair instead of short brown hair, and how she was holding up a loaf of bread instead of a whisk. The words Ace Baker’s Maya Fey and Co. were wrapped around the picture in colorful script. Only, that black streak on the face of the logo was very distracting. It did look a lot like a mustache…

“We gotta work twice as hard, Colette!” Lloyd turned to her in expectation, his confidence in her so deep and unyielding that she was instantly inspired. “We can fix this place up! I’ll talk with Dad about putting some cool dwarven decorations and stuff! And some dwarven-styled donuts!”

“Wow! I didn’t know dwarves made donuts, too!”

“Well… I don’t know if they do actually, but it’s worth a shot!” Lloyd pumped a fist into the air. “We’ll still be the best donut shop there is.”

Colette mimicked his action, then a thought hit her. “How much will it all cost then? Even if it’s your dad, that’s a lot of materials…”

“Eh, Genis handles all that financial stuff. It’s probably okay.” Lloyd said all this without knowing his best friend’s suffering – how he toiled away at night adding up the numbers and trying to not let Lloyd’s overspending on things (the doggy decals on the walls, the paints for the Lloydonuts logo, the boxes of fruits they got every week for their special donut recipes) put the donut shop out of business. Lloyd would never know Genis’ sacrifice.

“Also!” Lloyd continued excitedly. “Holidays are coming up soon, so we can make some special menu things for those days! Like Valentine’s and that Easter thing…”

“Oh! Valentine’s Day is pretty soon! We could make our donuts into the shape of a heart!” Colette’s eyes shone with the idea, then reined herself back. “Do you think that would be okay?”

“You kidding?” Lloyd said back with even more enthusiasm. “That’s perfect! We should start that now or something! Whatever expenses we get we can just pass off to Genis to figure out.”

Colette was so happy. Lloyd always supported her ideas one-hundred percent. “Okay!”

Off in the distance, Genis felt a shudder through his spine. No… they wouldn’t be pulling at this month’s budget already, right? No. There was no way Lloyd would be that terrible of a friend. But Genis did not sleep well that night.

The next day, Maya Fey woke up to the scent of freshly baked goods… which were not theirs!

“Nick!” Maya yelled suddenly. She slapped the sleeping baker straight on the back of the head. They just slept on the counters so they could be early to work! Again, not very sanitary. The health inspectors didn’t visit this part of town, luckily.

“Gah! Maya! Wh-!”

Maya then shushed him harshly, her black hair framing her face very intimidatingly. Or, she probably thought it did. Several hair strands stuck up from her topknot in haphazard fashion, and there were bags under her eyes, which she had gotten from ‘scoping their rivals out’ the other night. For one thing, Phoenix had questioned if the other bakers even knew that they existed? And the second thing… (Maya, can we please get some actual beds sometime? I think I swallowed some flour in my sleep…)

Then, he noticed a certain scent, too… but none of their ovens were on. Or he hoped not, because they didn’t have fire alarms here… which was another safety hazard for this place. “Maya?” he asked, but she only shushed him again. Were they pretending to not be here or something? The only time they did that was when Larry Butz came over, whining about his girlfriend leaving him and wanting some free pastries to cope with his loss…

Maya stealthily made her way to the front. The curtains were shut, their place not opening yet for another hour. She peeked through the blinds, squinting hard through the harsh early morning daylight. Those same eyes widened – more than they ever did, even when she channeled certain spirits. No such spirit from beyond the veil of death could have foreseen what she was observing right now…

“They’re already selling Valentine’s Day goods!” she yelled.

Phoenix, still trying to wake up, jumped at the sudden shout. Maya would have shattered his eardrums if he were close enough. “What?!” he said in reflex.

That was the wrong decision. Maya rushed to him, hands clutching the apron he still wore, (yes, even when he went to sleep. It gave him some padding on the hard counter surface) and pulled him near… just to yell in his ear again. “I said, they’re already selling Valentine’s Day goods, Nick!”

Ah, now there was that ringing in his ears. Great.

Maya rushed back to the window, peering through the blinds, the sunlight streaking across her frizzy black hair, making her seem a bit sinister. Or maybe that was just Phoenix’s own perspective. To be fair, he was half-deaf right now because of her and didn’t really like it.

“I thought you scoped them out or something,” he mentioned, voice a little loud as he tried to hear himself.

“Keep it down, Nick!” Maya gestured, still looking away. Then, seemingly unsatisfied with that, she pulled the blinds open fully, effectively blinding Phoenix instead of just deafening him.

(Why?!) But even as he tried to shield himself, Maya stared down at the scene before her. “These guys are better than I thought!”

The Lloydonuts place was open extra-early today, but things were different. There were hearts placed over the logo of the smiling chef now on the window, and that weird dog was standing next to a sign that depicted even more of those hearts! And something about free samples… That was when she finally looked to one of their rivals, a girl with blonde hair and a bright smile, holding a platter filled with freshly baked donuts towards a growing crowd.

“Hi! Get our Lloyd Love Donuts!” she said eagerly. “We have even more choices inside!”

Maya could only be impressed… but… they didn’t do any changes to their dog to help spice up their sales! At least dye his fur pink or something!

“We’re opening up right now!” Maya flipped their sign from ‘We’re Closed!’ to ‘Hey, Get in Here!’ “Start the ovens, Nick! We don’t have time to be dilly-dallying or whatever!”

“I… still can’t really see..”

Maya huffed. She had to do all the work herself around here… “At least get ready to greet the customers! I’ve had some new ideas for our shop later on… but looks like our rivals forced my hand!” She pushed up the sleeves of her robe, cheeks puffed up with determination. “Let’s get to it, Nick!”

(But I only slept for three hours…) He didn’t say such things out loud however, knowing Maya was too busy firing up the ovens to listen.

Their early Valentine’s Day Donuts Sale was a huge success!

Sure, Colette may have tripped a few times while offering free samples to passerby, but that just made her even more endearing to them, convincing customers to go inside and try out the donuts for her sake. Lloyd, handling the orders from within the shop, had a white chef hat atop his head so that he matched the logo, complete with maybe a hand drawn heart or two on his new accessory. He still had on his red gloves, along with the long-sleeved jacket, which probably made things a little hot for him when he got the donuts out of the oven, but he didn’t care. Things were going so well! The heart-shaped donuts were selling like hotcakes! (except they were donuts); from powdered types to yummy glazed ones, and those with fruity filling.

“Thanks for buying Lloydonuts!” he shouted in farewell as a customer left their shop, three large boxes in hand. They were selling so much, and it was only just hitting noon!

The chime of the door continued to ring when Colette came back inside. “Lloyd! I’m gonna need more samples, I think – Waa!”

Lloyd leapt over the counter to catch Colette in his arms, grinning at her clumsiness. “You dork. No need to rush!”

“Ah, sorry.” This was followed soon by a giggle. “You got powder on your face!”

“Oh, where?” He tried to pat it away from his cheek, but missed it by an inch – and even more because the powdered donut sugar was on his forehead and chin, too.

“Here, I can help get it-”

Noishe was barking loudly suddenly, which nearly made them both trip from the suddenness. But each kept the other’s balance, looking towards the door. “Noishe?” Lloyd said curiously.

Colette followed soon after with a question. “Did he see something scary?”

Worried for their dog, both went to the window, the Lloydonuts logo facing them in its reversed, transparent glory, all decked up with Valentine’s Day accessories of pink and red hearts. But despite all that, they could see clearly how Noishe looked excitedly at the shop across from them. It was open already?

And there was someone outside, too! Also giving free samples of… of… Lloyd squinted his eyes. “Huh. What is that?”

The black-haired girl in her robes and apron kindly gave him a clue not long after.

“Get your Love Baguettes! One of a kind! Only here!” She held up said Love Baguette – or rather, two of them. Both have been curved together to form the shape of a heart, a little messily done maybe, but it was still a heart! The shop’s door was open – one could hear the frantic greeting coming from inside, followed by a fierce pounding of fists on a hard surface.

“Thank you! Please come again and share the love! Ugh…”

“With more feeling, Nick!” She shouted back into the shop, which may have startled a retreating customer, several Love Baguettes around their arms.

“What?” Lloyd fumed, still peering through the painted logo of their shop window. All the added hearts everywhere were making this more difficult than it usually was. “That was our thing!”

Colette blinked. “Um… I don’t think heart shapes can belong to people…”

“And they’re using two of them?! That’s… that’s a good idea, actually…”

“Love Baguettes! And don’t forget our Lovely Nuts!” She held up what looked like their famous walnut bread, also mushily curved into a heart-shape. The nuts inside it looked like those little heart candies typically given out on the holiday, too! “You’ll fall for them every time!”

“Oh!” Colette was very impressed with this lady! “Those are really cute!””

Lloyd was decidedly much more annoyed. “They’re going to beat us at this rate! Also, that walnut bread does sound really good!” He ran from the window back to the counter. “I’m gonna hurry and make some more! And… and a give a 2-for-1 special!”

“But what about our break?” she asked, since it was lunchtime. Usually they would go out and take Noishe during this time, walking around the town and maybe have some coffee together. She looked forward to those…

“There’s no time! I’ll make some more free samples for you, Colette!”

“R-right!” Well, it was probably just for today. And she wanted to help Lloyd out! She believed in his dream of making the best donut shop in town!

She just hoped she would stop dropping the samples this time…

“Oh, they’re still going, huh?”

Maya was munching on one of the Love Baguettes, staring hard at the donut place. The blonde girl was frantically sharing the donut samples, and now talking on and on about some special? For two donuts? Now that was just crazy!

“Nick! We gotta start selling these things better!” She paused. “Bring Charley out here! He could use the sun anyway…”

“I don’t understand how leaving our plant outside is supposed to help…” Even so, Phoenix carried out the potted plant from indoors. Its tall stature loomed over his head, several of the leafy fronds covering his entire face. “And you didn’t have to paint him pink!”

“It’s washable paint, don’t worry! Charley just wants to look nice, sometimes.”

“Maya, this isn’t even your plant…”

“Well, Mia told me!” she said, effectively winning that argument. Charley needed to be spruced up to compete with their rival’s mascot. The pink color would be sure to draw some eyes to them!

The other girl looked to them from across the street, tilting her platter towards the ground, seemingly unaware. A few tiny donut hearts fell from their perch. Both Phoenix and Maya could hear her cry of dismay, especially as Noishe sniffed at them.

“Now she’s just putting on the cute and clumsy act! Clever!” Maya turned to Phoenix. “Okay, remember! You’re gonna have to start acting in charge while I woo the customers over with my natural cuteness!”

Normally, he would argue that he was supposed to be in charge of things anyway… and was technically her boss! But… well… life was difficult, and he had no idea how he ended up in a bakery shop, honestly. He shrugged. “Okay, okay.”

While Maya fixed her hair up a little and worked on her cute winks and cuter smiles (all while putting the Love Baguettes around Phoenix’s arms so he could start selling their product!) the door to the Lloydonuts shop burst open. Out came the other half of the donut duo, his brown hair a little ruffled underneath his tilted white chef hat, which looked ready to fall off.

“Colette, look! I made the double donut combo!” He held up his creation proudly – two of the heart-shaped donuts fused together at the side, complete with fancy designs on their front that made it looked like the guy had stuck in actual jewels into the chocolate frosting. (But, they weren’t real jewels, right?) Either way, they looked beautiful! “I uh, kinda accidentally baked two of them together a bit too close to each other, but this would be a really cool idea anyway, yeah?”

“That’s so good, Lloyd!” Colette was praising. “And you added those jewels after?” She wanted to point to those decorations as she said so. This just made her drop the platter altogether in her excitement. “Oh…”

Maya stared again across the street, and soon decided that she had had enough! She hung her last Love Baguette around Phoenix’s neck, then moved forwards. “Maya?” he asked.

“Just trying to run us out of business, huh? With our own idea!” She had her hands on her hips, staring across the street to Lloyd. “That should be illegal, right, Nick?”

“I.. I’m not that kind of lawyer, Maya. You know this.”

Lloyd heard the accusation, the girl’s voice carrying very clear through the air. Not many people were around at the time, and this gave him incentive to finally see just what was the deal with these guys!

Leaving from helping Colette retrieve their fallen pastries, he put his own hands on his hips, staring at the girl called Maya, chef hat still very tilted. “You were already taking our idea first! We came up with the heart stuff!”

“Um, Lloyd, I’m not sure…”

“No way! I had that idea way before you! Besides, we did it better.” Her cheeks puffed out as she stared down Lloyd, mimicking her cool pose! “And stop copying me!”

“You’re the one that’s copying me!”

Colette was at his shoulder, patting his back. “I think it’s okay?”

Phoenix, still looking very tired, still a little hard of hearing, and decked out in weirdly-warped baguettes all over his body, looked to the ground with a sigh. “I went to law school for this.”

“We have to settle this here and now!” Maya proclaimed. “We can’t let this rivalry keep going! Or it’ll destroy us both…” She said the last very dramatically, eyes shining, like a certain samurai made of steel that she binge-watched, even when customers were in the store.

Lloyd followed right along with her, looking serious and grim as he nodded. “You’re right about that at least! But I promise you we won’t be going down without a fight!”

Colette was giggling a bit nervously. “Lloyd… I don’t think it’s that serious..”

Phoenix finally got the Love Baguettes off him, grimacing at all that Maya said. “We’re not even rivals, Maya. They sell different stuff from us!”

“No! We gotta prove ourselves!” At that, Maya was stunned by her own stroke of genius. She turned to him. “We have to prove to our customers with more than just Love Baguettes. We have to show our love, Nick!” She grabbed Phoenix’s arms, bringing him close. “Now give me some sugar!”

Phoenix was red in the face. “W-what? We’re not… we’re not together!”

Maya blinked. “Oh, we’re not?”

“Are we??” This was entirely fresh news to him. Even so, a nervous but gentle smile crossed his face. “I mean… I’ve always thought about-”

“Whatever! This is for the business!” She pulled him in, kissing him probably too roughly. Maybe even violently?

Colette was blushing from the public display of affection! Then she felt arms around her too suddenly. Um.

“We can do that, too!” she heard Lloyd say, but not really believing it. Wishful thinking, right? She’d never kissed anyone before! Especially Lloyd!

“Wha-” was all she got out of her throat before she felt his lips on her. Then her mind conveniently went blank, only noting a certain chef hat having finally fallen to the ground.

It was probably a full minute or two before Lloyd realized what he was doing and pulled back, a blush covering his face. His hair was also a bit disheveled, no hat anymore to cover the unruly strands. “Uh… sorry! I was… um…” His competitive nature was soon tempered by the reality of the situation. Maybe he was too competitive…

Colette’s face was overheating. “It’s okay! For- for the business, right?” So, more kisses were important actually! “We should keep doing that!”

Lloyd stared. “Colette-”

They were then interrupted by yelling.

“Maya, I need to breathe!”

“Why do you still have to be so dramatic?” But Maya finally pulled back while Phoenix clutched a hand to his chest, breathing heavily. How long had they been…? “And you c-clearly need to practice!” Of course, her face was just as red, looking to the panting Phoenix with occasional glances, eyelids lowered.

But whatever that was all about, the rivalry was quickly brought back when she faced Lloyd and Colette again. “I see you’re still trying to copy me! You have no originality, do ya?”

Lloyd’s previous blush was soon replaced with a grimace again. Colette sighed sadly at their moment already being over. “Oh yeah? How’s this for original?”

With that, Colette felt the ground suddenly leave her. Oh no, did she trip again? No, it was just Lloyd carrying her in his arms. Wait. He held her close, making her squeak in surprise once she realized what was happening. Maybe they could still have their moment then…

“Bet you can’t look better than us now!” he bragged, grinning wide as he held Colette easily. “We show our love way better!”

“Lloyd?!” Colette felt she was about to faint. “L-love..”

“Ah, um…” He turned to her with that same blush. “I meant to tell you…”

This only inspired Maya even further. “You think that’ll stop us? Nick! Carry me! Hurry!”

Phoenix’s face went pale. “But, my back! You know it’s not-”

“Stop stalling!” With no warning, she dashed towards Phoenix, then made a gigantic leap for his arms, expecting him to catch her full force. Her purple robes flew behind her gracefully, along with her dark hair. She was like a graceful bird flying towards him... and then he realized she was more like a freight train ready to knock him over.

“Maya!!” And he did catch her somehow! But he stumbled a bit, and then stiffened, a loud, audible crack being heard, even from across the street. “Oh… oh no..”

“Nice job, Nick! …Nick?”

Seeing the other couple do the same, Colette really wanted to help out more! Especially after what Lloyd said.. With firm lips, she hopped out of his arms, then quickly scooped him up with a smile. “How about this?” This will get people paying attention to them! And make their shop the best in town!

“Uh.” Lloyd was at a loss on what to do, his long legs dangling a little awkwardly from her hold. “Uh…” If it was possible to blush redder than a tomato, he was doing that. “This… this is good, yeah.”

“It’s not uncomfortable, is it?” she asked with genuine concern.

“N-no! It’s very comfortable!” Lloyd had answered her a bit quickly, still very red. “Should probably… keep hanging onto me, you know.”

By then, they had missed when Phoenix had fallen to the ground. They only noticed when they heard him moaning in pain on the pavement, Maya standing before him with a slightly worried look. “Oh.. I guess I overdid it a little…”

“Is he okay?” Colette called out.

But once Maya turned back, all concern for Phoenix washed away at the sight before her. “That’s just cheating!”

Now she was getting desperate. She reached for one of the discarded Love Baguettes and then just… threw it at them! “Take this!”

Lloyd, however, was well prepared.

He reached into one of his apron’s pockets, bringing out the double Lloyd Love Donut and flung it straight back at Maya. “Then take this!” he shouted back.

Both pastries arced through the air… straight into the face of a random passerby.

Colette gasped. “Oh no!” But the woman looked familiar…

Luckily, the person, a small old lady by the looks of it, caught the two flying pastries in both hands. She smiled warmly at both bakers. “Why, thank you for the samples. These work so well together. I can share these with my family.” Then she tottered away, keeping both baguette and donut in her hands.

Maya stared. “Oh! That’s the same lady from yesterday… the one you scared off, Nick!”

Phoenix finally got to his feet, slouched over slightly. “I didn’t… I didn’t scare anyone!”

Colette soon remembered! “Ah! Isn’t that Marble? Genis’ friend? I’m glad she’s okay.”

Lloyd was still in her arms, looking confused. “She has like super good reflexes…”

Maya was then rushing up to them, dragging Nick with her by his tie, nearly scaring Colette into dropping Lloyd on the ground. “We have to join forces!”

“What?” everyone asked, including Phoenix.

“That lady was proof! We could grow our businesses if we start selling stuff together. Still our own shops but like… um… specials when you get both!”

“Oh…” Lloyd said dumbly, before finally understanding. “Ohhh.”

“I don’t really understand,” Colette had to admit.

“Two is better than one!” Lloyd then said, as if that explained everything. “I get it! We have to start working together! So anyone that buys stuff from our place like… gets a discount or something from their bakery shop!”

“Yeah, yeah! And same with us! With your donut stuff!” Maya was clenching her fists, which unfortunately tightened Phoenix’s tie around his neck a bit too much. “We’ll be the best!”

“Maya-!”

“Yeah! So uh, partners!” Lloyd held out his hand, still in Colette’s arms, but also ready to do business.

“Partners!” Maya shook his hand, both of them looking very proud of themselves. “I’ve saved our business, Nick.”

“It was never in danger to begin with-! Ack!”

Colette was just happy they could all get along and be friends now. “So, can we try those Love Baguettes, maybe?” They looked so yummy! And maybe her and Lloyd could share one…

“Of course!” Maya said, like they were old friends. “And make sure to try our Lovely Nuts, too!”

“Maya, we need to rethink that name-”

“Also, I get free donut eating privileges now that we’re partners, yeah?”

Lloyd readily agreed. “As long as I get to try that walnut stuff!” Off in the distance, Genis felt a cold shudder run through him again. Ah… economic disaster would be in the future if he was not careful…

But none of that worried anybody. With Maya and Lloyd already discussing their future plans, Phoenix still slightly suffocating, and Colette just so happy that everything worked out for the best, the future of Ace Baker’s Maya Fey and Co. and Lloydonuts was looking bright!

[ununniliad]

Writer's Block Person #40: "Too Much Time Inside My Own Skull" Part Two

Last time:

From within the helmet came a voice, swallowing, struggling to get the word out. "Skull..." They threw their head back and howled. "SKULL WRITER'S BLOCK PERSON!"

Now [still early March 2018]:

"Oh, heck." Whisperion pushed herself up with her staff and got to her feet. Something not-so-nice had actually come out of Writer's Block Person's psyche. What should she do?

Keep her word. Fight alongside it. She pointed her staff, and energy flowed into her friend's distorted form; she could feel it distorting along the way, but they shook themselves out and howled again, replenished.

The monstrous man rose up, tilting forward as if pulled by strings, and stared into Skull Writer's Block Person's burning gaze. "Ohhh, I see." The sneer came through. "You think your anger is special--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" With two long steps, Skull Writer's Block Person crossed the distance between them, ramming their shoulder into the monstrous man and knocking him askew. "I DON'T CARE!"

The monstrous man staggered back. He laughed, but it had a haggard, stressed edge. "Yeah you do. Yeah you do."

Skull Writer's Block Person ROARED! Their claws lashed out, and sparks burst from the monstrous man's chest. "People like you just keep fucking with us and making things hard for no goddamn reason and I can't stand your bullshit anymore! I! Don't! Know! Why! You! Just! Don't! Be! GOOD!"

The monstrous man let out a grunt of pain, but it turned into a sardonic chuckle. Shadows surrounded his fist and he took a swing at Skull Writer's Block Person, who blocked it with a solid arm, then swung that arm out in a powerful, spark-flaring attack.

Holy cow. If nothing else, this transformation was having an impact. Whisperion focused on the battle, channeling the different flavors of darkness curling around Skull Writer's Block Person into light and life. Maaaaybe this was okay?

  In Writer's Block Person's head, it was not okay, and at the same time, it was glorious. It was fire and rage and righteousness and truth and helpless shouting at the void. And then they heard the void whispering back.

  There's so much pain to this, it whispered. The pain of people's suffering. If you let go of it, you could have this fire, this strength, without the pain... you could be strong... I made this one strong, but you could be stronger... get it?

For a moment, Skull Block Person stood, smoldering in place.

"Yeah," they said. "I get it."

With both hands, they grabbed the monstrous man, gripping the plates of hardened material on his chest, and ripped them away! "I GET that you want to FUCKING use me like you USED everyone in the FUCKING WORLD, you ASSHOLE!"

The man shouted in pain, real pain, sounding helpless, stumbling back. The unprotected-- material? flesh? was red-gray, and shadow streamed from it.  Skull Writer's Block Person lashed out along the unprotected flesh, and it bled bright, bursting in lines of blazing sparks. "You want to turn us all into your pathetic machines to make money or what-the-fuck-EVER and for WHAT? NOTHING!"

No... whispered a voice.

Whisperion's head jerked up - she heard the voice - recognized it, or rather, the way it threaded through the wrinkles of her brain - this was a demon.

For everything... For power... all the power in all the worlds... you could have it... could be mine... ours...

"Get. The fuck. OUT OF MY SKULL!" Skull Writer's Block Person grabbed the monstrous head, stared into its glowing green eyes, and blazed. Their eyes burned a red whose color went beyond the physical operation of rods and cones, an impossible hyperbolic ultrascarlet that burst right through the electromagnetic spectrum and into the metaphysical.

There was a sound that didn't exist, sheet metal being ripped apart overlaid with heavy static. The demon was screaming. The man's body was frozen in a rictus of shock, his face tight, without the glee, without the power.

Skull Writer's Block Person let go of his head, and he fell, boneless, to the pavement and the grass. They spread their arms and screamed at the sky. "STOP DOING THIS TO ME!"

"Drew, it's okay!" Whisperion tossed her staff to the side and raised her hands. "It's done, you can stop--"

"NO I CAN'T!" They covered their face with their claws, panting, great ragged breaths. She could see the tension in their arms, the little twitches that accompanied every movement. "It's not done, I, Whisperion-- you can feel it, right-- I--" Their shoulders went up and a series of shudders wracked their body. "Min-young, I gotta-- they're so awful and maybe I can fix it and maybe I can fight it because they're all out there and they're HURTING us and I HAVE TO STOP THEM!" They threw their head back and screamed, and leapt into the air, and out of sight.

Shit, thought Whisperion, this has officially gone Too Far. Someone had to snap them out of this. ...unfortunately, she didn't know how. Maybe if the demon--

She looked and nope. The monstrous man was gone. Well, double shit!

Okay, keep it together. Her staff blazed with light and she cleared the last of the darkness out of her system, clearing her head. They had a lot of allies; who among them would be best to stop a Writer's Block Person who had gone off and--

Oh, duh. Whisperion looked around. Which one of these was Distraction Damsel's house?

...well, probably the one with the lawn gnomes in hot pink and banana yellow, the snow sculpture of humanity swordfighting God, and the big sign that said "NOT THE HOUSE OF DISTRACTION DAMSEL, THAT'S FOR SURE" on the roof. Must be nice to live in a neighborhood without a homeowner's association.

Whisperion picked her way across the crazy-paving walk and knock-knock-knocked on the door with the window painted on it. "Hoy! Alarums! Calls to action! Distraction Damsel, I need your help!"

The intercom (disguised as a fake rock with a fake key under it) crackled. "Look," said Distraction Damsel, "I told y'all. I don't fight bad guys, I just fight heroes when they need fightin'."

"No, no, no," said Whisperion. "It's Writer's Block Person! They've gone berserk!"

A loud squee came out of the intercom, and then it went silent. Whisperion heard a door open and slam shut on the other side of the house, and Distraction Damsel ran out from behind a stand of rainbow flamingos. "Eee!" she said. "Kismessitude! :D"

Hey, wait, has Distraction Damsel been described yet? Wow, no. Okay, I'll do that now: She's a lanky black girl, speckled with vitiligo, with foofy pink hair, wearing purple glasses, a holofoil bodysuit, and oversized golden gloves and boots like in anime or Mickey Mouse. She wears a purple cargo utiliskirt with oversized pockets full of distractions; glitter, confetti, inflatable dolls, just one more episode, ponderings on the ineffability of existence, and so on. Right now she is very happy so let's continue with that.

The two of them got on Whisperion's moped and sped over to where all the yelling was coming from. Skull Writer's Block Person was standing outside a (thankfully closed) restaurant, yelling at a "NO LOITERING" sign.

"...trying to make it illegal for people to EXIST, or just to be POOR!?" In a single blow, they slashed the sign to ribbons, scoring the brick beneath with clawmarks. The one janitor who had been in the place exited quietly out the back door because they sure as hell weren't dealing with this today.

"Yikes." Distraction Damsel flipped off the moped and ran her hands thru her hair, making it extra foofy. "This is gonna be easy, tho."

"Seriously?" said Whisperion, raising an eyebrow. "They look pretty focused."

"Watch and learn." Distraction Damsel pirouetted up to Skull Writer's Block Person. "Hey, nerd!"

They spun, claws at the ready. "Viv! Nrrrrgh--" Their hands went to their head. "Keep back, I gotta-- gotta focus, I can't--"

Before Skull Writer's Block Person could finish their thought, Distraction Damsel pointed at them and said, "Why don't you just put the whole world in a bottle??"

"Er..." Skull Writer's Block Person lowered their hands, and their burning crimson eyes blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Whoops, wrong one." Distraction Damsel pulled a stack of index cards out of her pocket and leafed thru them. "Here we go..." She tossed them over her shoulder and pointed at Skull Writer's Block Person again. "If you're fighting the bad guys with your new powers, when are you going to have time to write?"

"Uh... well, I guess I'm gonna have to rest sometime, so--"

"And if you're doing that when are you gonna have time to hang out with people?"

"Er, well, if they want to fight evil with me--"

"And if you're doing that what about those books you wanna read,"

"Um--"

"and what about going to those community meetings you're always talking about,"

"Uh--"

"Or organizing your stuff better, or learning to draw, or having a sexy time, or--"

POP-hwoosh! In a burst of crimson light, Skull Writer's Block Person de-transformed, and Drew tumbled to the sidewalk. "...ow..."

Distraction Damsel mimed blowing off a pair of six-shooters and stuck them in her belt. "My job here... is done!"

"Oh, right," said Whisperion. "They de-transform when they can't figure out what to do. I forgot it worked that way."

[Half an hour later...]

Writer's Block Person finished their turkey on rye and drank their glass of water. "Thanks." They leaned back. "I feel a lot better."

Whisperion nodded, clearing away the plates. "Good!" She deposited them in the kitchen, then came back and stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "You gotta take care of yourself, you nerd, or else shit like this happens."

"Ehe..." Writer's Block Person rubbed the back of their head and smiled. "You're right."

"Seriously, I was really worried about you." She took a step forward. "You really can't do shit like that. You're going to really hurt yourself and... and..." She ran across the room and swept them up in her arms, one around their back, one around the back of their head. "And you're too important for that. You're too good."

Writer's Block Person made a "mrhf!" noise as she embraced them, surprised but welcoming, and put their arms around her as best they could. She pressed their head into her shoulder, and they nuzzled in, standing there for a few minutes, cuddling, breathing.

Eventually, she let go. They gave her a little kiss on the neck, and took a step back, though their hands were still on her sides. "Sorry for worrying you, hon."

She chucked, smiled down at them. "It's okay."

"I dunno if I'm actually important, tho. Like, Comic Book Resources would probably call me a C-lister."

Whisperion snerked. "You're important to me, nerd."

Writer's Block Person smiled. "Fair fair. Then I guess, since I love you and all, I gotta take care of what's important to you. Which means..." They let go of her, spinning to point into the distance melodramatically. "It's time to activate... The Zero Closet!!"

Whisperion gasped, then clenched her fist. "Good luck!"

"Thank you!" Writer's Block Person leapt over to the closet, tossed the door open, then spun dramatically to look at her. "I'll need it!"

Whisperion held up her fist for a moment, trembling... then broke out in guffaws. "Heeheeheehee. Okay, weirdo." She blew them a kiss. "Have fun, I'll hang out and finally get some reading done."

Writer's Block Person giggled. "Thanks, hon, you're a peach~" They stepped into the closet and closed the door behind them.

This had originally been a hallway, back when this building was a set of deluxe luxury apartments for the robber-baron-era Pittsburgh elite. Now, it was a big-ass closet with several smaller closets along the walls. It was also an excellent space to be alone with one's thoughts.

With one flip of a switch, the closet was bathed in light from several full-spectrum lamps. Writer's Block Person sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, letting the light fill them.

Slowly, the wisps of seasonal depression rose out of their mind. They inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, letting the random activity of their mind settle down. When it felt like they'd reached some kind of equilibrium, they reached up and turned off the lights.

The darkness was a closet, a close, confined space. And Writer's Block Person took their mental model of the space, and made the walls fall away. It stretched off, now, in all directions, their surroundings one part of a vast space.

In the space, a door rose up - not like the one on the depths, but familiar, solid, the door that you can open and say "I'm home!" And with a little creak and a jingle, the door opened. Two figures stepped through.

One was an anthropomorphic bull, long-horned with orange, shaggy fur. She was six feet tall, muscular, and wearing a flannel shirt and magenta-pink denim overalls. Through her nose was a ring in the shape of a Venus symbol.

[Bedelia Dunaidh. Highland Cattle bullwoman. Strong and warm and proud of you. Playful and powerful. Horn-y on main.]

The other was a woman whose paleness was the hard-earned result of many days spent inside. She wore a black crop top, a holofoil skirt and wraparound reflective shades, plus dark blue glittery lipstick.

[Nyx. The ultimate '90s hacker. Sparkles and neon and scrolling green letters. Snarky as hell. Loves to not give a fuck.]

Bedelia closed the door behind her, and with a wave of her hand, it slipped down into the endless mindscape. She stood, relaxed and confident, a pillar of strength.

"Well!" said Nyx, leaning back against the wall with a smirk. "That didn't go well."

"Now, now," said Bedelia. She knelt down and put her hand on Writer's Block Person's shoulder. "How are you doing, love?"

They sighed. "Well, not as bad, but..." They shook their head. "God, I could've really hurt someone. I mean, I did hurt someone, but someone who, y'know, wasn't physically attacking me. ...which I still feel guilty about, anyway."

Nyx rolled her eyes. "You were halfway to burning yourself out as it was. You would've taken a swipe at an innocent rando and keeled over from anxiety."

"Well, maybe." Writer's Block Person rubbed their upper arms, looking oddly comforted by the idea. "Still... ugh." They shook their head again, looking down at their feet. "I was so hungry to do things, so hungry to unleash my anger on a deserving target..." A lonely howl sounded from far away. "I still am."

"That anger's still in you," said Bedelia, "though it's cooled, now that you've released it. And that's no bad thing; there is much in this world to be angry about. The trick, of course, is keeping your own will and compassion in the face of it."

Writer's Block Person sighed. "Yeah... mnnnngh... bleh. I just want to be effective." They ran their fingers thru their hair. "It's so hard to feel like I'm really doing anything. Like, people are suffering in ways I can't help them with, because of what somebody did to them, or what somebody's doing to them now. Even inside my cute little bubble, sometimes." They sighed, looking up at the invisible ceiling.

Bedelia stepped behind them and sank her fingers into their hair, rubbing their scalp. "You are being effective. You're supporting people, every day. You don't always see the results immediately. Sometimes they seem unaffected, sometimes they just get frustrated at themselves or the world, end up screaming or burned out. But that doesn't mean they are unaffected. Every little gesture of support matters. It creates a pattern of support; it becomes part of people's lives, a feeling like there is support out there, even if it isn't available right now."

They sighed. "I know. It's just hard when I can't see it."

She smiled. "You're a dandelion."

They tilted their head back, looking up at her. "...thank you?"

Bedelia laughed, rich and husky. "You want to plant the seeds of people's stability and goodness, but you don't realize you already are. You're just planting them willy-nilly, like dandelion seeds blown by the wind, letting kindness float out into the world. Your reckless love lands and grows all over the land. And you really don't need to worry that any one gesture of support falls flat, because there's a dozen more growing tall and strong and nigh-impossible to root out."

"...awh." Writer's Block Person took a deep breath, let it out. "That's... really good to hear."

"Excellent, you deserve good things."

They sighed. "Still don't really know how to deal with this anger, tho."

"That's my cue." Nyx stepped forward... and flopped down lazily over Writer's Block Person's lap, making them oof. "So nerd, one question." She snuggled into place, relaxing. "Why you gotta be so angry?"

"Well, 'cause of all of this awful stuff, I thought I said."

"Nah nah nah." Nyx stuck out a finger and booped them on the nose. "You're not listenin'. Why do you have to be angry? Izzit fixin' the problem?"

"I mean... not really. But I just am angry."

"Yeah, but that's the thing." She sat up, putting an arm around their shoulders. "You've got those feelings, but you don't gotta feel them all the time."

"That's true," said Bedelia. "You're trying to deal with every bit of it at once."

"Yeah, but..." Writer's Block Person slumped back, boneless. "I worry that, if I don't make sure I feel all of the bad things as they come up, I'm going to fall back into a place where I can't feel them, where they're just lurking below the surface, fucking with me unpredictably." They sighed. "I've worked so hard to get outta that place..."

Nyx sat up in their lap. "First off, yeah, yeah, fair." She wrapped an arm around their shoulders. "Second... you're an idiot." She pressed her fist down and gave them a noogie.

"l;fgljkfd!" They flailed!

"You did work stupid hard, and you're not gonna undo all that work just by takin' a break from feeling it!" A-noogienoogienoogie and Nyx let go.

"I, bu, I..." Writer's Block Person attempted to words and failed.

"It's true," said Bedelia. "Distancing yourself from your feelings in the moment can absolutely be healthy, as long as you let yourself work through those feelings when you have the time and the focus."

Nyx nodded firmly. "I know you hate all that '90s ironic distance bullshit, but there's a reason people liked it." She mussed up Writer's Block Person's hair and they wiggled. "It's okay to fuckin' enjoy it, nerd. 'S not going to ruin your precious emotional vulnerability."

"Yeah... I guess so." Writer's Block Person ran their hand thru their hair and smiled.

Bedelia grinned. "Well then." She leaned down, picked both of them up in her arms together, and squeezed them in a tight hug. Nyx acked and flailed. Writer's Block Person was squished between them, and for a moment, was crushed in comforting self-love.

Nyx managed to wriggle out and hop down, and Bedelia put Writer's Block Person back down on the floor, and smoothed out their hair. "We'd best let you take care of things now."

Writer's Block Person shook themself out and nodded. "All right."

Bedelia waved her hand and the door rose back up out of the darkness.

Nyx hopped up. "Remember when this series was all about getting an issue done in a day? Hah!"

Bedelia opened the door, releasing a breath of summer. "Take care, dear," she said. "Remember, we're always with you."

"I know." They smiled. "I can feel you cheering me on."

"Right, 'n just so you don't forget." Nyx pulled off her sunglasses and gave them a toss, with a spin that landed them directly in Writer's Block Person's lap. "Catch ya on the flipside~"

The door closed. Writer's Block Person sighed, and opened their eyes. The darkness was just darkness again. They flipped on the the light - not the sun lamps, just the regular lightbulb. The closet was just a closet again.

But the sunglasses were still in their lap.

Whisperion looked up from her book as the door to the Zero Closet creaked open and Writer's Block Person stepped out. "How'd it go?"

"I feel better," they said, looking down at the sunglasses. "But... I'm not sure what my next step is."

"That's fair. Wanna hang out and chew it over?" Whisperion patted the couch next to her.

"Yes please." They sat down on the couch, their legs over her lap, and relaxed. They got out their phone and started checking their messages. Ah, Edwina was on another ramble about proofreading on the Discord server.

| ...and, as no messaging client as yet supports the "new paragraph" symbol, I propose that it be created as a transparent image and included in our server's list of custom emoji.

Thank you for your time. - Ed. (UE) |

"...THAT'S IT!"

"Please don't scream in my ear," said Whisperion mildly.

[A couple days later]

Whisperion and Distraction Damsel were having a nice picnic. It was a bit chilly for it, but the sun had come out and most of the snow had melted, so they didn't care. They sat on a blanket in the park, and snacked on sammiches and chips.

Writer's Block Person stood in front of them, bouncing from foot to foot. They were already transformed, and holding their sparkly purple transformation pen in one hand. "So, I had to practice this a lot, but I think I got it down. You ready? Um..." They bounced a bit, caught between excitement and politeness. "Need any more food, or... anything?"

Whisperion laughed and shook her head. "We're ready!" She gave them a thumbs-up.

"One hundred percent up for learning your strategies so I can take advantage of it later!" Distraction Damsel gave two thumbs up.

Writer's Block Person giggled. "Okay, then..." They held the pen out at arm's length. They took a deep breath and...

  ...reached down inside, down deep, it was easier this time, finding that door. They took the knob and they didn't have to fling it open, they could open it just a crack, hold their position and just feel what they wanted, what they could handle...

Click! "EMOTICONVERSION! CUSTOM CODE POINT! SKULL WITH COOL SUNGLASSES!"

A flat CGI image appeared in front of them, of a cartoony skull wearing sunglasses. It flew into their form and exploded in CGI flames, and when the flames died down, they'd transformed.

Their armor was shining white with bright red accents and a simple black bodysuit. Along the sides and back of their chestpiece were vents. Their cape was red, with a line of white fire running along the bottom. On their head, atop their helmet, was a white trilby hat with a black band, held in a rakishly tilted position, and their visor was shaped like sunglasses as well. In place of their belt buckle was a bright red lever, and In the center of their chest was a ruby with the silhouette of a skull wearing sunglasses.

"Yessss!" They pumped their fist. "Okay, and now..." They held out their pen again. "PEN IS MIGHTIER! BONE OF MY SWORD!" Click!

In a fiery flash, the pen transformed into a curving white sword with a sparkly purple grip. Bony protrusions curved out of the pommel, and in the middle, a skull-with-sunglasses-shaped ruby was mounted.

"Ooooh!" "Ahhhh!" Whisperion and Distraction Damsel applauded.

Writer's Block Person grinned under their mask. "Right, and..." They started going through basic sword exercises, stepping back and forth, the blade slicing through the air, fighting against an imaginary opponent.

As they practiced, memories floated into their mind, and they let them come. Memories of the monstrous man, and the things he'd said. Memories of the times they hadn't been able to help. Memories of the people who seemed to sit, apathetic, in the face of suffering. They held their position, letting the anger through as a natural flow, not an explosion of pain...

And as the anger rose in them, the bone-white blade began to glow. Gradually, it heated up, turning a lurid red. Writer's Block Person's movements became more forceful, more decisive, the sword swings accompanied by plumes of steam. They spun and danced, the anger rising and rising, and they used it, and they used it, and it became almost too big to use and...

Their off-hand went to the lever at their belt. They raised their sword for a decisive strike, and pulled the lever; and the anger in their body exploded out into the world, and steam burst from their vents, and the sword flashed a brilliant crimson, and they brought it down in a burst of blinding light.

When the light faded, Writer's Block Person was kneeling on the ground. The sword was white again, wisps of steam rising from the blade and from their vents. For a moment, all that was audible was the wind...

Then they bounced up and shook themselves out. "Whew!" They de-transformed, put the pen away, and ran their hands thru their hair, grinning. "That's better. Sometimes ya just gotta let off some steam."

Whisperion laughed, standing up and pulling them into a hug. "That's great!"

"Good job!" said Distraction Damsel, munching on chips. "Lots of color, ten outta ten."

Writer's Block Person laughed and hugged. "God. I feel so much better."

"Yeah?" said Whisperion.

"Yeah! I can live in this world, face its awfulness, without freaking out. And..." They turned, and looked off into the distance, fist clenched. "When that guy comes back for a rematch-- I'm ready!"

[June 2018, over three months later]

"...REALLY, CAPTION BOX?" Writer's Block Person, in a Squirrel Girl T-shirt and a light summer skirt, flopped over Whisperion's lap. "Uuuugh. I'm worried about that guy."

"He did try to kill you," said Whisperion, petting their hair.

"Yeah and probably I killed him. Probably I straight-up killed him gaaaaaaah." They rolled over, mooshing their face into a pillow.

Whisperion rubbed their back. "Hon, he disappeared straight away. Probably went off to recover."

Writer's Block Person propped themself up on their elbows. "I guess, but why's it been so long? Ugh, I also hate the idea of him just lurking out there, doing shit..."

"He also seemed to be pretty focused on you, as an enemy." Whisperion pet their hair. "I'm sure you'll get that rematch."

"I guess..." They sighed. "I just don't want someone else to suffer for my personal development. Even if it's a demon guy."

"That's fair. But you can't affect it right now. The worry's not useful right now, so put it away and live your life."

"Yeah, you're right." Writer's Block Person sat up, and stretched out, and looked out the window. "For now, it's a new day, and we keep moving forward."

"That's right." Whisperion handed Writer's Block Person a roll of paper towels and a bottle of spray. "And you can move forward by cleaning the bathroom grout."

Writer's Block Person blinked in surprise, then snerkgiggled. "Awwww, but I'm having an emotional moment!"

"Look," she grinned, "you *told* me to make you do it, so I'm makin' you~"

"And what are you gonna do if I don't? Spank me?" They stuck out their tongue.

"No, I'm gonna TICKLE YOU!" She leapt on them and began the torment.

"EEEEEheeheeheeheenoooo..."

On the corner of the dresser, a pair of sunglasses glinted as the sun began to set. Life went on.

----

Author's Note: "Min-young" is a Korean given name. Whisperion's is specifically spelled with the hanja pronounced "min" that means "clever" and the one pronounced "young" that means both "flower petals" and "heroic". Distraction Damsel's first name is Viviana. It doesn't have any especially relevant meaning, I just liked it - which seems perfect for her.

[superbadlydrawnallenwalker]

Drabble

Yeah I was in discord talking about a creative intrusive thought and was advised to write it. I have a serious case of IDGAF today so.

Summary—-

Kanda hasn’t fully recovered from the 6th laboratory incident, but is slowly working through it while learning about the world Alma and him wanted to see so much. Tiedoll, Marie and him are sent to a mission on England to retrieve one piece of innocence. And in the way back Kanda encounters something new. What is his reaction to a being whose only purpose is to make you smile?

And stealing @galimau ‘s epic line:

No editing, we die like mne

The busyness of London streets, with its chattering, mix of fragances and overall rutinal chaos, was enough to make the black haired child pop a vein.

“Can’t we really just take another road?” asked exasperated to the old man drawing the big clock tower with a worn out piece of chalk.

“Give me one more minute, Yuu-Kun. It’s your first time in London and you did a marvelous job fighting the Akuma” said the man without putting off his eyes from his drawing “Ma-kun why don’t you take him on a walk? There’s gotta be something fun to see around here. Use your golem to tell me where you are, ok? I’ll meet you there”

“Stop calling me that. Besides, I’m not really interested on that” said the kid crossing his arms. He was lying so blatantly.

“C’mon Kanda, there’s gotta be something interesting around here” Marie said

“There’s nothing”

“W-well, it has been a long time since I was in London. Before losing my sight” the kid suddenly untangled his arms in discomfort “I wonder how has the city changed while I was gone”

“...”

“Why don’t you two go on walk?” said the man not half finished with his painting of the tower, making the kid jump a little. “You could lend him your eyes for a bit, and tell him what you see. What do you think Ma-kun? Is it alright for you?

“I wouldn’t mind at all, master. How about you Kanda?”

The kid opened his mouth, but he closed it instantly, hissing a fine.

“Then let’s get going”

The big guy started walking, making the little kid trott to keep up his pace. When he was by his side again, he let out a deep sigh.

Walking by so many people talking was a nightmare for Yuu. But there were things that weren’t on the sixth lab that amused him. That he knew Alma would had liked to see too.

There was so many things he couldn’t describe to Marie, and felt a little embarrassed of not knowing something that looked so normal. That conclusion coming from the little smile Marie put after asking him: “why is that woman using the corpse of an animal on her shoulders?”

At some point, after some lame attempts to describe things, a person who was selling some kind of candy that was pinned to a wooden pole, offered them to buy the treat. Marie told him the candy was an apple covered with caramel. And without even thinking he asked what Carmel is. Marie just smiled and bought him one.

“here try it yourself.” he had told him when he handed him the treat “Its hard, so be careful with your teeth. “

He did as Marie said. It was really sweet. And hard to bite! But it was good. He tried to archive the flavor on his memory while they kept moving through the people. Secretly enjoying it. He thought that it was kinda good that Marie couldn’t see his half smiling face.

Suddenly an ovation made Kanda look in the direction of congregated people. They had reached an spacious part of the market. But it was so packed in that side that he couldn’t really see what they were admiring.

“What is it?” Asked Marie adjusting his headphones.

“I can’t tell from here, let’s try moving closer” Said the child walking in the direction of the noise.

“I’ll see if master is over with his painting” said Marie turning on his own golem.

What were the people seeing? The curiosity was killing him.

——-

The people’s faces while looking at his acrobatic acts was good, but the boy with funny paintings in his face was more interested on the paper that was in their pockets.

The boy turned his head to the man in a clown suit that was acting not being able to go above the big bouncy ball making a wave of laughs.

The boy couldn’t help but smile along the crowd when seeing Mana’s performance.

Mana made him a signal that only the boy could understand. So when the man finally got above the bouncy ball, he had some props on his hands.

He locked eyes with the clown and thew the props at him.

It was Mana he was talking about, so naturally, he let the first throw go all down. Doing a sappy face, he signaled the boy to throw them one more time. The boy threw the props again, but all were graciously catched while the man stayed on his place.

The people loved that kinda thing.

Then Mana got down the bouncy ball and started doing some panthomimes for the little children in the front rows, making balloon animals and so on.

The public laughed a lot. And then it was time to ask for tips. The boy had to snap out of the act of his own act and run to the tree where rheir things were. He took the cup hat by the props with his right hand, and extended it to the people doing a silly act himself. The people would gladly give them some change, except one kid. That when she saw the hat, she looked so weirded out that got it him weirded out too.

The boy had noticed it was the kid that hadn´t smiled not even once during the show. It was uncommon, but he didn´t put much thought into it. But looking closely, the girl was using a black coat with some metal rose on her chest. And...was that a sword?

“Ah Yuu-Kun, he´s asking for money.” suddenly said the man with a mustache with the same black coat.  “Here, like this” said the man throwing some coins in the hat. The boy made a little bow in grattitude. “Is to thank them for their work” 

The kid looked to be around his age, so how come she didn´t know something as simple as that?

“It wasn´t even that good“ the kid said aloud with a deep voice. Apparently she wasn´t a she, but a he. The long black hair deceiving the kid with the painted face. “If that´s it we should go now, Marie” The comment kinda angering him, the boy took the hat somewhere else a little annoyed. 

The boy could hear them discuss a little while as they went away.  

-----

By the time, the people were gone and the clown finally could wash the paint off his face, the sun had set. The boy who accompanied him was sitting in a tree nearby counting the money on the hat. It wasn´t a bad day, they could afford to eat something good that night. It had been days since the last time they have had something other than some bread and water. 

“How were we today?“ asked the man smiling with his face still wet from washing on the river.

“Good enough for a good dinner“ said the kid showing him the little piece of fabric with that day´s earnings. “It could´ve been more if that kid had payed“ he sighed, his auburn hair falling on his face.

“The one who didn´t smile? It´s kinda annoying when the kids in the public don´t laugh, indeed. Oh, well, what can we do about it now“  he laughed, taking his belongings with one hand. But he spaced out for a moment “...That´s weird”.

“what?“ The kid asked standing up and grabbing his things.

“I have the feeling that I have said that to someone before. I wonder who...“ The boy was silent. “Ok, Allen. Where should we go now? It´s already dinner time. Should we go and buy the beans you were talking about?“ the man asked smiling at the kid.

“Y-Yeah. That sounds good, Mana“ the boy followed in a small voice. 

“Alright! Let´s go!“ He exclaimed taking the kid by his left hand covered with a thick glove.

Both started walking toward the usual cheap place they went to when they had enough money to spend.

But the boy was a little worried about Mana. He looked at him. Not a single worry showed in his golden eyes. He never showed any other emotion. Like a mask of happiness trying to hide intense sorrow.

“Maybe you don´t remember it was me that you said that before. But that´s ok. As long as I can stay with you, I´ll help you remember little by little.” The boy squeezed his hand caringly “I´ll remember everything for you, if you ever forget again. “

“I´m your Allen after all”.  

And both kept walking while the lights in the street started to shine.

-------

Here it is. I hate writing this long on English cause, what´s grammar? Also is the first time I write a fic, so please don´t be hard on me. But anyways, hope you like it!