#i still am like hey why did you throw away my treasured items when i was at school and not tell me and he just grunts

[dragpinkman]

thinking about that brings back so many mainly good memories. we were pretty imaginative kids, i remember we would make stop motion short movies with legos once we got a ds. and besides the drama acting we'd also do sherlock holmes type investigations, essentially saw traps, and crazy ass game show plots (hosted by flexible ken). im sure more but thats what i remember most, we had some plot lines that went far like for 2 years.

[ghoultrifle]

There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 3 - Pleasure As It Was Intended

WC: 5k

Previously on FTFE: Dewdrop wants to try penetration. He has a few toys in mind but struggles to get the courage to buy them, fearing it will invalidate his gender. With Rain's support, he finally purchases the toys.

Summary: The toys arrive and Dewdrop gets to work, after a quick hyping up from Swiss

Notes: I am incredibly proud of this chapter and hope you all like it as much as I do. It's my first time writing porn with feelings so please hype me up :')

CWs: Sexual content, toys, gender dysphoria

And a big thanks to @v-ternus for being my sounding board <3

Read below the cut or on AO3

Dewdrop hears a knock, a brief rap on his bedroom door. He glances at the clock that sits crooked above his desk, mail time, he thinks. Peering through the peephole he can see Special walking away, making his way through the ghoul dorms, stopping occasionally to drop a parcel.

A small, nondescript box sits outside Dewdrop’s door. Imposing, menacing. It’s been carelessly thrown to the ground, evidenced by the rugged angle it sits at. He’s… angry. Angry that it’s been treated with such disregard; the contents of what must be assumed by Special to be another bong, or perhaps a new outfit, merely chucked outside his door like it has no significance to the fire ghoul.

The parcel quickly finds its way inside Dew’s room as he removes it from the doorstep with the same care as one might handle a bomb. He treats it like it’s a feral cat, holding it by the scruff of its neck lest it bite him. Inside the box, as far as Dewdrop’s concerned, are the items that determine if he’s worthy as a ghoul. That if they don’t end up inside him by the end of the day, he’ll be a failure.

Dewdrop decides he won’t let it get on top of him, he can’t afford to, doesn’t quite trust himself to sit alone all day with the parcel. So he throws himself into his duties. A couple of hours with Mount helping him re-pot his ever-growing plants. Lunch with Cirrus, Dewdrop laying in her lap as they watch some shitty reality show.

He spends the afternoon with Swiss, supposedly for band practice, but that never happens when it’s just the two of them scheduled. Sure, they do some practise but it’s mostly Dew dicking around with his guitar as Swiss vocalises with the disjointed sounds. They’ve been at it for a few hours when Dewdrop’s mind fades back to the parcel, still unwrapped, waiting for him on his bed.

“Howdoyouusesextoys?” Dewdrop blurts out.

Swiss isn’t sure he heard right, there’s no way Dewdrop doesn’t have a kinky treasure trove full of toys. “Woah woah slow down cowboy! What did you say?”

He’s met with another mumbled string of sounds that vaguely sounds like it mentions toys. It’s Dewdrop’s demeanour that leaves Swiss worried, though. The ghoul that minutes ago he was having to wrestle the guitar off as he played some shitty meme song, now taking shaky, uneven breaths and avoiding eye contact like Swiss is Medusa.

“Hey, droplet, I’m not teasing you, I just need to hear what you said… I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want,” Dewdrop opens his eyes, tries to take deep breaths. But deep breaths don’t help when it feels like he’s suffocating. He feels a grounding palm smooth over his stubble, sees those big golden eyes shining back with nothing but love for him, he remembers why he chose Swiss.

He inhales, looking away briefly to ask, “Bought sex toys for Rain to use on me. Dunno what to expect, I guess. Thought you might know,” the room is still as both ghouls take in what Dewdrop just said, before he remembers to clarify, “They’re uh internal toys like dildos ‘n vibrators ‘n shit. I’ve never put anything up there before, figured a whore like you would’ve though,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as Swiss stares on in a mixture of confusion and offence.

“Ohh I see, come to the resident slut for advice? Well you’ve come to the right place. Whatcha worried about? We both know Rain’s been around, it’s not like he doesn’t know what to do.”

“No, I know Rain’s gonna be fine with it, it’s me that’s worried. What if it feels weird or if it hurts or if I like it so much I detransition?”

“What if?” Swiss poses, something Dewdrop hadn’t considered, what if? “You and I know full well Rain won’t do anything if you’re not enjoying it.”

“Swiss!” Dewdrop groans in frustration, dragging out the ‘s’ at the end of his name, “I just wanna, you know,” he motions vaguely at nothing with his hands, “get some pointers, some tips?”

“Well you’re right, they do have tips!” They both laugh at Swiss’ poor attempt at humour, “I do faintly remember the first time I used a dildo, if you wanna know about that?” he asks. It’s becoming clearer that Dewdrop just wants assurance that it’s going to be alright, even though he knows in his heart that it will be. The multi ghoul receives a sheepish nod in return.

“Alright, well I was on my own so all I had was ‘ol faithful to warm me up, get me nice and open,” he smirks, doing jazz hands showcasing his thick fingers, “I really took my time getting myself nice and wet. I was pre-T so there wasn’t much to get hold of but I did the best I could, really stroking myself until I was basically leaking. Then I just lubed Glenda up and put her in, wasn't much resistance. I played aroun-”

“Hold up, your dildo’s named Glenda?!”

Swiss scoffs, “What about it? I’m not the one that’s too scared to put Glenda in my pussy,” it’s all in good humour, they both know it. And hearing about Swiss talk so honestly about it has put Dewdrop at ease. He feels like he can laugh now, like he can breathe again, deep breaths full of all life has to offer. “Anyway, I played around with the angles until it hit that fucking dynamite spot, you’ll know it when you hit it,” Swiss promises, a smile creeping across his face as he reminisces, “and the rest was history. A lil bit of thrusting here and some stroking there and I came so hard I cried,” he deadpans, as if he’s not recounting a story of him masturbating.

“Seriously, spitfire, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” and it’s all Dewdrop can do to pray to Satan below that Swiss is right.

Dinner runs without a hitch, Dewdrop eats a respectable amount for a guy so nervous about his imminent gut-rearranging. And more importantly, he thinks he’s managed to keep it a secret, Rain still doesn’t know the toys have arrived. The water ghoul is living in blissful ignorance to the sweet, tender sex that will follow their usual post-dinner makeout session. That for the first time, Dewdrop will be an active recipient of pleasure, and he’ll enjoy it; at least that’s what he hopes.

It starts as it does most nights, Rain playing footsie with Dewdrop, sliding his scaly foot up and down the fire ghoul’s shin, making those dumb heart eyes at him. Dewdrop swears if Rain was a cartoon, his eyes would spend half the time booming out from their sockets in adoration for his mate, it’s endearing really. Following their adolescent flirting, Rain excuses the pair of them from the already emptying table; if the way Aurora looks at Cumulus is anything to go by, they’re not the only ones with evening plans.

They get as far as the dorm corridor before Dewdrop boxes Rain against the cold, stone wall. The taller ghoul freezes, a forward move from Dewdrop. He can’t quite bring himself to move when Dew begins to mouth at his neck, angling for Rain to bend down and kiss him. Instead he basks in the heat on his jaw as Dewdrop sinks his teeth into Rain’s pale flesh. He moans and the vibrations in his throat only further encourage the shorter ghoul.

“What’s gotten into you, spitfire? Normally you can at least wait until we’re back at yours,” Rain asks as he brings a hand down to knead at Dewdrop’s barely-there ass.

Between sucking and bruising the ghoul’s neck, Dewdrop speaks up, “Hyping myself up.”

“For…?”

“Toys,” Dewdrop whispers, seductive yet laced with a tinge of worry.

Before leaving that morning, Dewdrop had the foresight to at least unpackage and clean the toys, even he was smart enough to know that cleaning toys is a real mood killer, especially for a ghoul already on edge about the whole thing. If there was anything that Dewdrop could prepare for in advance, he was going to do it.

So, laying bare to the world on his bedside table were the toys, sitting proud. Rain didn’t notice them immediately, too focused on the fire ghoul attached to his neck, trying to manoeuvre them into Dewdrop’s room without either of them tripping or stepping on each other. They catch his eye as his mate backs him up towards the bed until his knees give, ungracefully stumbling onto the mattress. Hurried hands fly between them to undress each other. Dewdrop’s fingers filled with nervous energy, struggling with his jeans and Rain, the ever helpful boyfriend gently undoing the button and sliding them down, taking in Dewdrop’s form, just a binder and boxer briefs now. “Fuck he’s handsome,” Rain thinks, verbalising his thoughts to the grinning ghoul above him.

“Wanna use ‘em on me? Was thinking get the dildo out the way tonight?”

“Fuck can’t wait baby, gonna make you feel so good. How do you want to do this?”

Dewdrop answers with a gentle push to Rain’s shoulders, settling him down in the middle of the bed before shedding his underwear and climbing atop the water ghoul, back to chest. The weight of Dewdrop is really nothing to complain about, spread over Rain’s body, it’s barely uncomfortable, more of a weighted blanket if he had to compare it. Besides, if it’s what his droplet wants, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give him exactly that.

With him, Dewdrop brings the toys, laying them carefully by Rain’s hip alongside a bottle of lube. Once settled, he takes a moment. What for, he isn’t really sure. Maybe to calm himself down, but he feels an odd sense of relief, of readiness. He isn’t scared anymore. He wants it to happen, he’s excited even. Perhaps that’s why he’s slowed down, to appreciate and bask in the feeling.

As he lays on Rain, his golden hair resting perfectly on the water ghoul’s neck, Rain lifts his head up to meet Dewdrop’s scalp pressing long kisses into it. “So proud of you baby,” he whispers between them, hand idly thumbing the silicone toy by his side. Rain was truly happy with the idea that Dewdrop would never try penetration, he was content to live out their lives as they were. With that, he could sense Dewdrop’s hesitation, how he became disengaged during sex if Rain’s hand ever veered too low. But the way he acted didn’t seem to be fear, no, Dewdrop’s face would turn pensive, as if he were pondering what if? A poignant question the fire ghoul now knew the answer to. Well perhaps not the answer, but he’s certain he’s explored his feelings enough to know he wants it and he wants it now.

The binder still clinging to his chest is becoming uncomfortable at best with how Dewdrop’s sweating at Rain’s sweet words of encouragement and that familiar cold hand roaming his stomach. It’s itchy and riding up at the bottom but he doesn’t care, he’s too caught up in the moment, something he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced. To not be hyper aware of every sensation but instead to be dialled in on a specific feeling, it’s bliss.

Against him, Dewdrop can feel Rain pulsing, leaking onto the small tuft of hair at the small of his back. It feels odd, to be the one selflessly experiencing pleasure, Rain gladly putting aside his own needs in favour of pleasing his mate.

“My sweet baby boy, I can feel you leaking, may I?” Rain asks, bringing deft fingers to Dewdrop’s entrance, hovering, waiting for permission. Dewdrop need only bring his hand over Rain’s before the water ghoul gently swipes over his folds, bringing his slick-soaked hand to his mouth. “Oh Dewdrop you taste divine. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me.”

It’s not even an attempt at dirty talk but it makes Dewdrop’s stomach jump nonetheless. He’s finally starting to believe Rain loves him as he is. While Rain is preoccupied salivating over the taste of the fire ghoul, Dewdrop flicks open the cap on the lube as he squirts a generous amount onto the head of the light purple toy

“Would you do the honour?” Dewdrop asks weakly, offering the slicked up toy to the water ghoul.

“Want to let you have this moment Dewdrop,” Rain replies, this is Dewdrop’s journey, he’s just along for the ride. Dewdrop teases his entrance, letting the purple head get even wetter as he drags it along his folds, collecting slick as small whines escape his lips. It once again surprises him how at ease he feels. After years of turmoil, worrying that he’s faking it all, he’s never felt as sure of his identity as he does in this moment.

“Whenever you’re ready droplet”, Rain coos, placing chaste kisses on Dewdrop’s neck. And with that Dew pushes in, slowly but steadily moving the toy until his hand lies flush with his skin. It’s an odd feeling, a completely new, foreign sensation but it doesn’t feel wrong. Far from it. It brings with it an overwhelming sense of familiarity too, an instinctual need. He knows exactly what to do. It’s not rocket science, Dewdrop knows this, but he’s still taken aback by just how easy it feels. It’s with that realisation he cautiously begins to pump the cock in and out of his dripping cunt.

As Dewdrop lay atop Rain, knees bent and feet planted on the mattress, the fire ghoul finds a respectable rhythm, butterflies in his stomach every time he thrusts the silicone deep inside him. He can’t believe he’s put it off for so long, denying himself divine pleasure. Filling the room along with the slick sounds of Dewdrop fucking himself are the sweet words of encouragement spilling from Rain’s lips like a burst dam.

“So proud of you, droplet, can hear just how much you like it.”

“That’s it, keep going, fuckkkk just like that.”

“Feel how hard you’re making me? Shit- that’s all you, spitfire. You and your insatiable body, such a good boy.”

The words imprint themselves on Dewdrop’s brain, burned in forever. Rain’s not telling him how pretty he is or groping his chest, he’s appreciating Dewdrop for exactly who he is, a man. And for once, he’s not jealous that Rain has a dick, doesn’t spite him for it. Because he, too, is experiencing pleasure and he got it all wrong, he doesn’t need a penis for that. Sure it would be nice but right now he feels pretty fucking incredible. Rain’s words have such an effect on Dewdrop that he’s becoming too worked up to keep a steady rhythm, the stimulation is too much to concentrate on keeping it going. He crooks his head back, asking silently, and Rain just knows what he wants.

The dildo changes hands, Rain now in charge of Dewdrop’s pleasure, entrusted with making the fire ghoul feel good, and boy does he deliver. Pressing pretty kisses to Dewdrop’s neck, his hand fumbles for the toy. The transition is near seamless and Dew melts. It felt good before but shit Rain knows what he’s doing, angling it just right to make Dewdrop cry out a choked moan- Swiss was right, Dew did know when he hit that spot. The spot that makes his stomach churn in the best way as he listens to the slick nosies and the sound of Rain’s skin slapping against his inner thigh as he pumps Dewdrop full.

He’s writhing on Rain’s tense body now, hips canting towards the stimulation, rocking into the water ghoul’s cock, smearing pre against the small of his back. Dewdrop can’t bring himself to care about the torture he must be inflicting upon his mate. He’s been so selfless all these years, he’s giving himself tonight to be completely selfish about his needs.

His orgasm starts to build and he vocalises, “Oh fuck I- I think I’m close fuck please don’t stop. Please. Keep going. Fuck. Rain. Ah. Keep-” Rain shushes him to give his permission. Not that Dewdrop needed it, but to let the fire ghoul know Rain’s not going anywhere.

“Lean into it darling, let go for me. Such a good boy, taking it so well. So proud of you, baby,” and with those words Dewdrop is clenching around the toy as his cunt spasms and he whines high and reedy, uncaring about pitching his voice lower, he doesn’t need to perform for anyone, not right now, anyway. Rain can feel Dewdrop’s release coating the toy in such copious amounts it’s running off and onto the water ghoul’s digits. 

Dripping onto his balls, Rain can feel just how wet Dewdrop is as slick gushes out of his hole. Rain wants nothing more than to gather his boy’s slick and jack himself to an almighty climax, but not tonight. There’ll be plenty of nights for that to happen. Tonight is all about Dewdrop. Rain would truly be happy to never cum again if it meant Dewdrop could finally live in pleasure instead of pain. Rain’s had his good times, he’s lived his life; Dewdrop’s is only just starting.

Dewdrop’s still in a state of awe. He did it. He got off. On just internal stimulation. A feat he truly never believed he’d be able to do, despite his years-long curiosity about it (okay, the base of the dildo relentlessly hitting his clit might have been part of it, but still, it’s all connected, right?). As he comes down from the first high of the night, Rain babbles nothing but praise, eager for his love not to drop after such an intense high. He knows how easy it would be- post nut clarity is no joke and Dewdrop’s worked himself up about this so much, it wouldn’t take a lot for him to spiral. To feel that shame creeping up, enveloping him in a thick coat of inescapable humiliation at him, a man, enjoying being fucked like a woman. So Rain doesn’t let it happen, showering him with enough praise to make anyone blush, rocking his dick against Dewdrop every so often to remind him that he’s desirable.

Hair sticks to Dewdrop’s face as he pants, still overcome with euphoria from the intensity of his orgasm. He suddenly feels himself clenching around nothing, opening his eyes to see the toy in Rain’s hand. Fuck- it’s dripping in cum and oh Rain’s bringing it up towards them, past Dewdrop’s face and he’s moaning as he takes it hungrily in his mouth, to the hilt, moaning into it. “Wanted to test the theory it taste even sweeter after the event, my love,”

“And…?” Dewdrop probes.

“What do you think, droplet?” The water ghoul smirks, brining the toy to Dewdrop’s swollen lips, “See for yourself.”

A tentative tongue makes its way to the tip of the dildo giving an exploratory lick. It’s not nice per se but there’s something about being able to taste his own release that makes it that much nicer. Still, he’s not sure it tastes divine but perhaps Rain is really that in love with him.

“Ready for round two?” Dewdrop questioned, a grin adorning his blissed out face.

“Fuck- really? Anything for you, Dewdrop. How do you want it? Want me to pump you full again, or I could eat you out? Perhaps you-”

“-m not ready for you to touch me there yet I don’t think, sorry,” he blurts out and Rain’s heart sinks. Not at Dewdrop’s sentiment but that he feels sorry for it.

“My spitfire, that’s more than okay. You don’t ever have to be ready, this is already more than I ever imagined we’d do together. Satan, I’m so lucky to have you. Want to try the vibe instead?”

And just like that, Dewdrop’s inspecting the vibrator, hands travelling over the plane of the toy, feeling the ridges before testing the mechanism. Slowly twisting the dial at the bottom, wondering if it’s broken until- buzz. It’s intense, the blood being drained from his fingers as the toy throbs in his hand.

“Easy, Dewbug, we’ll start off slow and build up to that. Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” and Dewdrop does trust him. It’s finally sinking in that Rain truly does have Dewdrop’s best interests at heart.

Dewdrop spreads his legs once more, cool air hitting his clit despite it being almost hidden beneath his curls. He clenches on instinct, cringing when he feels another glob of his release make its way to the pool collecting on Rain’s lithe body. It surprises him. He doesn’t feel disgust or shame at his body’s response to the fucking incredible action of Rain’s hand, he feels proud he was able to cum for Rain, to be a good boy.

“Fuck baby, still leaking, huh? So good for me,” Rain whispers.

With that, Dewdrop hears the familiar rumble of the vibrator. A sleek, black thing, phallic in size but not in aesthetic. The mechanical whir fills the room, though it’s not as overbearing as when Dewdrop cranked the dial all the way, it’s a more subtle hum.

Rain hesitates, bringing a hand up to rest on Dewdrop’s stomach, “Droplet, can I touch you?” he asks.

“You just fucked me silly with a dildo, of course you can do it with the vibe,” Dewdrop replies, enamoured by his mate but slightly confused nonetheless.

“I mean- your uhm chest, Dewdrop. Want to feel your heart beat as I take you apart.”

He ponders, the purr of the motor a backdrop to his thoughts. It’s not like Rain would see his chest, or even really feel it, hidden behind the thick wall of his binder. And thinking about it, even if he did, Dewdrop’s not sure he’d mind. Rain’s carved out their time together as a place for Dewdrop to truly be himself. The offer has always been there to not bind, to raise his voice back to its natural pitch, Rain made it unequivocally clear that he doesn’t mind. But Dewdrop always has, until now.

A small nod accompanied with a hushed yes is all Rain needs to start. After years of spending almost every waking moment together, Rain knows when his mate is being sincere. Enthusiastic consent is the only consent is a great general rule but their connection goes deeper. The non-verbal signs, the way Dewdrop’s breathing steadies when he feels safe and his eyes search for Rain’s to ground himself. The way his eyes scrunch and his lips curl up almost imperceptibly when he’s around Rain. It’s not apprehension, it’s nervous excitement about experiencing yet another new sensation, even if it is through the plate of his binder. And Dewdrop knows Rain would never go further than he wants, not without explicitly asking. So he lies there safe in the knowledge that creeping fingers won’t find their way under the hem of his binder, but will freely roam atop it, mapping out Dewdrop’s contours.

Whimpers accompany Rain’s renewed movement, vibrator making feather light touches to Dewdrop’s dick as his other hand plants itself over the fire ghoul’s chest, the wide span covering him almost entirely. It’s like being jacked off by The Flash, the plastic beating down on his clit with an unrelenting pace while Rain keeps his hand steady, letting the toy do all the work. Moans fill the room as Dewdrop squirms atop Rain.

“Does it feel good, baby? Yeah? Keep making those noises for me, fuck.”

All the apprehension, the years of turmoil, only for Dewdrop to be a whimpering, writhing mess within an hour of getting his (and Rain’s) hands on himself. It’s funny really, in hindsight. And he’s glad he can finally indulge himself in these fantasies, that his mind allows him to enjoy himself.

With that thought, Rain’s deft hand cranks the dial, the buzz turning to a roar as the vibrator near shakes under Rain’s digits. Bringing it back down to Dewdrop’s clit, the fire ghoul shouts, “Oh fuck Rainy- shit- I- awgh- so much- I,” he’s trembling under Rain’s touch, hips bucking into the vibe, desperate to get off on the stimulation that’s both far too much and not enough.

The hand on Dewdrop’s chest begins to roam, firm touches tracing his body, committing it to memory. The first time of many, Rain’s sure, if the wanton moans leaving Dewdrop’s lips are any measure to go by. His hands brush over the light smattering of hair on Dew’s stomach and Satan below Rain wants to worship Dewdrop’s body forever, remind him each and every time just how fucking hot he is. It would be an endless back and forth of Rain smothering him in compliments and Dewdrop not believing a word. But perhaps with enough time, he’d come around.

Rain’s hands continue their ministrations as the squirming ghoul above him becomes louder with each circle of the vibrator around his dick. The water ghoul is just about to check in when Dewdrop interrupts him, “Close! Ah- shit- I’m about to cum- please- don’t stop- just like th- ahh fuck,” he hisses. It only spurs Rain on, increasing the pressure and finally turning the vibe up to the maximum intensity. Drawing circles around his clit, occasionally dipping below to gather Dewdrop’s pre and cum from his first orgasm. The slick noises that fill the room, combined with the insane amount of stimulation Dewdrop’s receiving, have him spilling almost instantly with a cry, “-m cumming, fuck Rainy thankyouthankyouthankyou fucking ahh.”

A minute passes, at most, before Rain is turning down the dial and smoothing his hand over Dewdrop’s binder, fixing it’s twisted state on his chest. Sure that his mate is finally satiated, now is definitely the time to make sure his mental state doesn’t drop in that post-orgasm haze. Cum-drunk is the best way to describe Dew, a wide smile on his face, eyes barely open, and chest heaving as he recovers from one of, if not the most, intense orgasms of his life.

“How are you feeling, droplet? You were so good, took it all so well.”

“I feel… like I want to go again. Want you to fill me up, fuck, that was so hot. I think I said it a moment ago but thank you for indulging me Rainy, there’s no one I’d rather pump me with a toy,” he finishes with a kiss blown to his mate.

Rain giggles at Dew’s sentiment, ever the romantic, “Maybe not tonight, sweetheart, already gone stiff, not sure I could guide you through another orgasm. And wouldn’t want you getting greedy, hmm?” He jokes.

Stiff, Dewdrop thinks, shifting in place to confirm his suspicion, shit he’s still hard. “Wait, don’t you want to get off? Only feels right after what you gave me.”

“I’ll be fine, handsome, there’s always tomorrow.”

An idea worms its way inside Dewdrop’s mind, “We could use the vibe, could jack you off, make you fuck my fist?”

And how could Rain so no to his puppy-eyed boyfriend and his incredulously horny suggestion. Dewdrop sits up, kneeling over Rain’s legs. Vibrator in hand, he starts it up and closes his fist around Rain’s weeping cock. Rain shudders at the sensation, at finally having something more than the friction against the small of Dewdrop’s back. It’s intense, the fire ghoul wasting no time in jacking the vibe up to the maximum setting, hell bent on just getting Rain off, and he isn’t complaining. “Oh Dewdrop I love you so much, fuck- don’t know what I’d do without you in my life- ahhh keep going, ‘m already close,”

“Aww baby, can’t keep going just a little longer? No? I don’t blame you, the show I put on was fucking hot, wasn’t it?” 

All Rain can do is nod fervently in response to Dewdrop’s questions. His ruddy head sliding through the fire ghoul’s slick hand, sliding up against the hard plastic of the vibrator. The mix of hot and cold drives him crazy as he utters more confessions of love to his mate. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s said it, but it feels so much more real, knowing he’s seen this vulnerable side of Dewdrop. The smaller ghoul always feared that if he let this side of himself be seen, he’d be left, upset and alone for eternity. Seeing that Rain still loves him after tonight, well fuck if that doesn’t encourage him to make Rain scream his name.

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters.

“Oh yeah, baby? What do you want to hear? You’re being such a good boy for me, gonna bust all over your hand.”

“Want you to say my name,” Dewdrop says, unsure if it’s a question or a statement, but Rain knows exactly what to do.

Dewdrop braces himself on Rain’s chest and the heat of his palm pushes Rain over the edge, “Oh Dew, fuck you treat me so well my Dewdrop, I fucking love you, don’t you ever forget it,” he cries out to anyone who could be listening, and he’s sure there are people getting their fix on the sounds emanating from the room. Dewdrop keeps his hand steady as ever, watching Rain’s cock spurt thick white ropes, seemingly endlessly, twitching as the water ghoul cants his hips with an ever waning intensity.

“Fuck, I love you too, Rain.”

And Dewdrop means it with no hesitation. He’s not sure any other person could have made tonight as incredible as Rain has. He’ll never understand what he did for Satan to reward him like this, but he doesn’t need to know, just having Rain is enough.

[yinnyguardian]

Anyone Want A Free Ivara Prime Neuroptics Blueprint? TwT

Giving away a free Ivara Prime Neuroptics Blueprint to anyone who needs it after I felt too bad to turn down an extra <3 (FCFS)

(Well as free as Warframe allows. You will have to trade at the very least a throwaway trash item/mod due to Warframe not allowing completely free trades)

Ok so a little story behind as to why I'm giving it away IF YOU WANT! It's a long read with a very small very vague spoiler nearer to the top and I overdramatized the fuck outta this to make it fun to read LMAOOO

If you want the over dramatized context, click "Keep Reading" >:3

It was yesterday, specifically sometime between 12-2 AM. I got onto Warframe, ready to play a bit before getting settled for bed... However... A Mistake was made.

Simaris popped up. The daily stuff restarts around 8-9 PM for me. He's offering his Tenno Slav- I mean Hunter a reward. An offering of three choices. Two different types of Rescource Boosters and whatever the fuck the last one was (I wasn't paying attention).

I had my eyes on the prize and totally forgot I wouldn't even be able to use them fully since I'm doing this before going to bed in like an hour or less. I was basically biding time for my sleep pills to set in. But that didn't stop me.

Instead of closing the game to pick the next day... I foolishly took the Rescource Booster that gives you extra resources upon pick-up! Worse still, it didn't even dawn on me the mistake I had made as my attention fled to the yellow marker. The Kinepage had updated.

I rushed over, ready to see what it said. And after reading it I smiled to myself, happy to have experienced such an update, as small as it was.

However that happiness didn't last as I finally remembered and realized my mistake when my eyes darted to the bottom of my screen... To the clock.

I gasped and rushed to the Navigation, quickly opening the first mission I could think of! An Alert. Maroo had another hunt for me. I quickly took her mission, ready to get that Ayatan Treasure and some Argon Crystals I had been waiting on a Resource Booster for... Not realizing it would end in disaster!

I typically only ever get 1 or 2 Argon Crystal spawn ins per round. So I was expecting 4 Argon Crystals at most! How foolish I was. I looked in abject horror once the mission was complete. 10. 10 Argon Crystals.

I rush over to the Foundry, praying I would have enough blueprints! Alas it was in vain. By the end I still had 6 Argon Crystals. But it was going on 2:30 AM and I was tired. Sleep had found it's way to me. Knowing that I had by 12 AM the next night, I went to sleep and prayed I'd be able to get the blueprints the next day.

Today came and I quickly hopped on Warframe while pulling up the list of Blueprint needed for such a task. I decided to focus on Relics. AKA Prime Frames and/or Weapons. Specifically any of the common variant that I didn't already own... But my supply was thin and time was ticking.

By the way one of the relic packs I was opening...? Yeah the reward I wanted was a common. I opened 4 of them. Didn't get the specific reward I want. You wanna know what I did get? I got the uncommon. How the fuck did I get an uncommon before the common? It's like the game knows like "Oh hey you want this? This should be easy-to-get reward? Yeah? Too bad you don't get it >:)" LMAOOO

Cough

Anyway.

As I watch my relics deplete that had those specific blueprints with only one success, leaving me with 4 Crystals left, I felt hopeless... That was until... I noticed my plat and remembered... Yes... Yes the Warframe Market! That would be my saving grace upon such a troubling time!

I rush over to the Market Website and scanned prices of the blueprint! First one went by quickly! Baruuk Prime systems! Only two more Argon Crystals left.

Next one I set my sights on was the Ivara Prime Neuroptics. I sent a message and after about 5-10 minutes with still no response, I decided to throw out another hook. This time a fish caught it. I smile widely as the second person gets back to me. They took me to the dojo, we did the trade, and I finally could rest knowing my Argon Crystals would not fall into waste... Or so I thought.

However... As I enter an easy capture mission on earth, a throwaway mission for my sights had set on Nora Nightwave's Complete 15 Mission quest... I got a message. The first person had been AFK. Which was fine! I constantly find myself distracted and/or AFK and accidentally leave any potential buyers to wait on complete accident. However they ask the question... Do I still need the neuroptics. I didn't...

So naturally I said yes I do!

Now this might sound stupid, however I felt bad. If I had just waited yet another 10 minutes this poor person could have gotten plat instead. And again, I quite know the feeling of accidentally making a buyer wait for a response only to be too late. You tend to feel awful.

As I rush through the mission so they can give me an invite to their glorious dojo, they kept being super sweet and kind. As the trade commenced, I paid and looked upon the familiar neuroptics, still no clue with what I'll do with such a thing.

Obviously I couldn't resell it even if I did do it for cheaper than original price. That would be wrong. But as I sat and wondered, clicking accept and finalizing the deal... I realized what I must do!

I said my thank you's and farewells to the individual before coming here and any other possible places I might post (Idk where else for now).

So I offer to anyone who wants it who doesn't already have Ivara Prime Neuroptics... The blueprint. Completely free You, unfortunately due to how the trading system in the dojo works, will have to offer something in the trading place but it can just be a throwaway junk mod (Like Revenge, Ammo Drum, Pressure Point... Just something that you can get really easily and don't use/need much). I apologize for this inconvenience TwT

[awanderingdeal]

Happy birthday, Finnegan.

I was writing this in the office at work the other day and my manager asked what I was doing and I answered that I was writing a story for my friend for their birthday because I didn't want to tell her I was writing fanfic. So, in true being friends with Lucy style, this is two days late. Sorry! No matter what, the creation of this character deserves to be celebrated.

This is set in an AU universe where the cubs are out.

CW: Food talk and a brief mention of alcohol

Rating: G

Please message me if I missed any content warnings or you think I need to change the ratings.

All characters (except Bailey, she's mine) belong to @lumosinlove.

“Friday night and the lights are lowwww, Looking out for a place to goooo,” Finn spun around the island, the wooden spoon at his lips providing the perfect microphone for his rendition. He halted in front of Logan, laughing at what he could tell was a disgruntled expression despite most of his face being covered by the hoodie he’d pulled tight around it, his hands covering the bottom half. “It’s my birthday, come and dance with me,” Finn pleaded, tugging at the overhang of Logan’s sleeve.

“Non, it is too early,” Logan grumbled. “Dance with Knutty.”

“Knutty is busy.” Finn threw a glance over his shoulder at Leo, smiling at the sight of his boyfriend humming to himself as he moved gracefully at the stove. Leo turned to meet his gaze, his damp hair forming golden curls that Finn thought made him look like a cherub.

“Here,” Leo tipped his head at the freshly prepared coffee. “Coffee’s ready, you can caffeinate him. Just needs sugar.”

Finn pressed his lips to Logan's forehead. "If bring you coffee will you dance with me after?" Logan huffed but nodded, pushing his hands through the holes in his sleeves to receive the steaming cup.

"Okay, deal, but I'm starting the song again." Finn's grin was met with a low groan. After drawing the drink out as long as he could, technically, Logan did fulfil his promise, standing to reluctantly move his body to the music.

Finn saw the exact moment Logan chose mischief, his bright green eyes lighting up even more than usual. "Catch me and I'll dance with you properly."

Finn raised an eyebrow, matching Logan's fast walk around the island. He was the first to risk Leo's wrath, picking up the speed to a jog, and took advantage of his longer arms to close the gap.

"Got' cha," Finn grasped Logan around the waist, Logan's head tipping back in an uncharacteristically bright laugh as Finn reeled him in. "You are the dancing queen, young and sweet," Finn sang loudly, spinning Logan away from him and pulling him back when their fingertips threatened to split.

Logan placed his palm on Finn's chest, letting himself be rocked to the music. "You should be singing this to Leo, not me."

Finn glanced down at Logan and despite the fact no words were vocalised in that moment, their eyes said a lot. In an almost synchronised moment they turned their gaze to Leo.

"Nutter butter," Finn said. "It's your turn to be serenaded."

"Oh no, what a shame, breakfast is ready," Leo smirked, pouring a generous helping of maple syrup over one of the bagel stacks; Logan's. Finn considered protesting, but the sight of his own plate was too tempting.

"The serenading will recommence at a later time," Finn insisted, grabbing one of the plates and carrying it through to the dining table. They didn't eat here often, preferring either the island or the sofa, but today it had been decorated with balloons and presents had been piled at the end.

***

"That was amazing, thanks Le." Finn already missed the stack of bagels; bacon and a poached egg layered between them, and dripping with hollandaise sauce. "Can I know what you've got planned now?"

"No problem, anything for the birthday boy." Leo swallowed a bite, sliding one of the wrapped boxes towards Finn. "We told you, it's a surprise. You can open presents though."

Finn worked his way through the gifts, too many of them from Leo and Logan. There was nothing extravagant but they seemed endless and each one reminded him how much they knew him. His favourite chapstick. A crate of beer from a craft supplier he really enjoyed. A set of massage oils and a promise to help him use them. Some monogrammed golf balls. And his favourite, a handwritten letter from the both of them that he would treasure forever. He read the cards from the rest of the team through damp eyes.

“Can you tell me the plan now?” Finn asked the question again once he’d worked his way through the gifts and the cards. Logan dragged his lips against his teeth, as if he was physically keeping the words from spilling from his mouth.

“Don’t give us those bambi eyes,” Leo shook his head, throwing a balled up napkin in Logan’s direction, the item hitting him square in the forehead. “Don’t you dare tell him.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I can tell you want to,” Leo retorted. “We have to clear up first. Put the music back on. I want to dance now.” It was much later that Finn came to recognise this for the distraction technique that it was, hence the three of them were arguing over the lyrics to Montero when the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment.

Finn opened the door, a bounce still in his step and swaying his hips to an imaginary beat. He blinked at the figure in front of him, closing the door for a second before opening again. “Alex!” Finn pulled his brother into a tight hug, slapping his hand on the broad of his back. “Sorry, I thought I was hallucinating. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see my baby brother on his birthday, obviously,” Alex laughed, squeezing Finn back until he struggled out of his hold.

“But,” Finn spluttered. “You were in Florida yesterday? I saw your Insta story.”

“I caught the first flight this morning, I’ve got to be back tomorrow for a photoshoot.”

“That’s crazy,” Finn said, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.” He tugged Alex inside, leading him down the hall into the kitchen. “Look who’s here!”

“Hey Alex,” Logan thrust his fist for Alex to bump his fist against. Finn looked between Leo and Logan, both of their faces showing no sign of surprise.

“Did you know?!”

***

It took a while for Leo and Logan to convince Finn they didn’t need to come along and he should spend time with Alex, but now they were alone, he was realising exactly how much he had missed his brother. The conversation flowed easily, Alex having almost an entire lifetime of practise at following Finn’s leaps in topics.

“So, I booked us in for a pottery class,” Alex glanced at Finn briefly before setting his eyes back on the road. “I thought you’d like that. It’s very tactile, y’know?”

“Nice,” Finn grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I hope you brought spare clothes with you, because things are about to get messy.”

It was true. Finn had binge watched The Great Pottery Throw Down, so he knew learning to make even the simplest of things would be more difficult than it looked, but somehow the two of them managed to get the clay everywhere.

“Alex, that's too fast!” Bailey, the instructor warned, but it was too late. The clay sloped to the side, thinning out as it flew off the wheel and hit Finn on the cheek.

“Oops,” Alex grimaced. “Sorry, bud.”

Finn sent a mock scowl in his brother’s direction as he peeled the clay from his skin, dumping it back on Alex’s wheel. However, O’Hara’s were nothing if not perfectionists, and the two of them were determined to create something good. Neither of their first bowls came out right; Finn’s was too tall and thin, Alex’s was short and thick. When they tried again, Finn overcorrected, creating something that resembled Alex’s first. Alex’s second attempt was going well until it spontaneously collapsed.

“Third time’s the charm,” Alex huffed, manipulating his clay back into a lump to try again. He was right, giving a triumphant smile as he watched the grey ball transform. His work wasn’t as good as the ones filling the shelves opposite, their price tags indicative of the skill that had gone into them, but it was relatively smooth and definitely a bowl.

Finn whistled through his teeth, admiring Alex’s work. He laughed as he looked down at his own third endeavour, a small stumpy thing that could perhaps hold five Cheetos. “I tried.”

“Hey, no,” Alex argued. “Give it another go if you want. You’re nearly there.”

Finn rolled his shoulders back, pursuing his lips with determination. Alex watched Finn push his foot on the pedal again, his elbows tucked into his torso as he worked the clay.

“That’s it, apply a little more pressure on the bottom than the top.” Alex encouraged him. Finn smiled, his brother was always his biggest supporter. It reminded him of the time Alex had watched him tie and re-tie his shoelaces over and over again until he’d finally mastered it and could prove to their parents that he was ready for that new pair of sneakers.

“I guess I’m not needed here,” Bailey joked. “ You’re looking good, Finn. How about you two wash up and I’ll get those mugs you wanted to paint. We’ll get these in the kiln later and they’ll be ready for collection in a few days.”

Painting the mugs was a much more relaxing process, both Finn and Alex decorating two mugs each, one for each of their partners. Bailey sat with them and Finn watched in awe as she quickly made stencils whenever they needed assistance getting the designs in their heads onto the ceramic. By the time they’d finished, the three of them had come up with an elaborate plan for Alex to get back at his team mate for filling his hotel room with balloons and Finn concluded that Bailey was the coolest person ever.

“Damn,” Alex glanced at his phone. “It’s nearly 4. Let’s get you back to your boys before I start getting threatening messages from Tremblay.”

“Trust me,” Finn snorted. “It’s Knutty you need to be scared of.”

“Crazy goalies, am I right?”

***

“Wait, why are we at the aquarium?”

“You’ll see.” Alex’s smirk was infuriating. Finn craned his head forward, excitement bubbling inside him. Alex rolled his eyes as the engine rumbled to a stop. “Go on then,” he said, tilting his head towards a modern looking building, all glass and sharp angles.

“You’re coming as well?” Finn asked when Alex slid out the car too, locking the sleek black rental behind him. “Not that I mind.I just thought you had a flight to get?”

Alex shook his head. “ No, I’m not staying for long. I want to see your reaction though.”

“My reaction to what? We all know I love the aquarium but I’m not going to explode or anything.”

“I told you, you’ll see.” There was that smirk again.

Finn held in the urge to stamp his foot. “Urgh! You’re so annoying.”

“Love you too,” Alex laughed, pushing through a set of tall glass doors. A sarcastic quip rested on Finn’s tongue, but it shattered as he looked up to see Leo and Logan waiting in the entrance, backpacks slung over their shoulders.

“Lo! Knutty!” Finn jogged the short distance, “I missed you.”

“Glad to know I’m such good company,” Alex deadpanned.

“It’s only been a few hours,” Leo chuckled, accepting Finn’s hug. Finn smiled, lifting his head for Leo to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, we went to this pottery studio, and then we got burgers and shakes like we used to when we were kids,” Finn nodded. Oh! I made you something.” He turned to Alex who had stepped into place beside him, holding his hands out. Alex grunted, but pulled the tote bag from his shoulder, placing two carefully wrapped items into his hands. “Open it!”

“Alright, give us a chance, Harz,” Logan laughed, tearing at the delicate tissue. Leo was much more methodical, peeling back the layers neatly enough the paper could probably be re-used.

“Did you do this?” Leo looked between the mug and Finn. He ran his fingers over the shiny glaze, a dark blue with tiny white stars scattered over. Inside, a moon phase created a border around the rim.

“I didn’t make the mug. We made bowls, but they won’t be ready for collection for a few days. I did paint it though. With some help from stencils. There’s a little note in the paper somewhere.”

“I couldn’t bring you the real ones, but hopefully these will do,” Leo read, his voice cracking slightly towards the end of the sentence. “Finn.”

Logan whined, the sound curling in the back of his throat. “It’s your birthday, you’re not supposed to give us things.” The mug he held had been painted white and the words ‘sweet like honey’ written over it in Finn’s neatest attempt at cursive along with several bees.

“Do you like it?” Finn rocked on his feet and Alex knocked their shoulders together, a small gesture of reassurance. “Look it’s you,” he pointed out a bee that had a small red cap on its head. The French left Logan’s mouth so quickly Finn couldn’t even begin to parse the words, let alone make any sort of effort to translate them.

“He’s mad that you are making him emotional in public,” Leo provided at Finn’s distressed frown.

“Aww, you do like it,” Finn grinned, wrapping his arms around Logan.

“Be careful! You’re going to break it.”

Alex cleared his throat. “As beautiful as this is, I’m going to have to go soon, so if we could do the big reveal?”

“Alex,” Finn almost growled. “I swear I will phone Nat - wait, what big reveal?”

Leo swung a backpack off his shoulder. Finn only now realised he was carrying two, one of which belonged to Finn. “We’re staying at the aquarium!”

“Well, yeah? Why else would we be here?”

“Non, Harzy, “ Logan laughed. “We’re sleeping at the aquarium. Overnight. Under the shark tunnel to be precise.”

“Oh my fucking God!” Finn couldn’t contain his grin as pulled Leo into the hug too, “Is this a joke? This better not be a joke.”

“Fish, there are children around,” Leo scolded. “And no, it’s not a joke. That would be mean.”

Finn let his boyfriends go, spinning around to face Alex. “Al, are you sure you don’t want to stay? This is going to be so cool!”

“I really have got to go soon,” Alex shrugged, a soft smile on his lips. He jerked his head in Logan’s direction. “Somebody count how many times Finn screams though, please.”

***

“Look!” Finn gasped, pointing up at the glass tunnel above where the three of them lay in their sleeping bags. “It’s a nurse shark.”

Logan rolled over, propping himself on his elbow and looking at Leo. “We’re not getting any sleep tonight are we?”

“I don’t think so.” Leo chuckled, shaking his head. He pointed to the tunnel. “What’s the weird looking one, Fish?”

“That’s a wobbegong, they blend into the sand,” Finn answered, curling into Leo’s side. Logan lay back down behind him, having offered Finn the middle spot for tonight. “This has been the best birthday,” he sighed happily.

“Happy birthday, Harzy,” Logan squeezed his hand through the layers of their bags. “Tell us more about the sharks.”

[softomi]

Overdue

prompt:  I know I’m running late – I’m sorry. Things haven’t worked out the way I planned. But believe me when I tell you I am on my way.

- A Postcard by Lang Leav

pairing: atsumu x reader (ft. osamu)

general taglist: @graykageyama

Being the older brother, even if by mere minutes, Atsumu always felt that he had to look out for his sibling. After all, his mother instilled into him that no matter what, he should always be there for Osamu and vice versa. On many occasions Atsumu took that to mean that he could take his stuff, as long as he returns it (which he never does), because after all, they’re brothers.

On other occasions, it meant that Atsumu had to learn to be the first to set his pride aside. He reasons its because he’s the older brother, but Osamu knows that Atsumu is just too clingy to stay mad at his brother for a long time.

But there were many times, many days, many fleeting moments where taking care of his younger twin made him think “I wish I didn’t have a brother.”. Yet, the moment something happens to Osamu, he’s quick to act as the third parent.

“Why are you so stupid!” Atsumu screams at his brother’s back, “You shouldn’t have climbed that stupid tree.”

Osamu turns on his heels, gritting his teeth, “Shut up! You did the same thing last week!”

“Yeah! Well!” Atsumu is balling his fist, their mother entering the room due to the commotion, “What if something happened to you? Huh? Mom would blame me for not watching you!” The young Atsumu begins to blubber, “What if something happened?”

Osamu learned at the young age of ten, just how much being the older brother put a toll on Atsumu. So on their eleventh birthday, Osamu decided to give Atsumu a birthday present.

“I’ll be the older brother this year!” The young boy declares, “So it’s my turn!” He points at his confused brother, “To take care of you as the older brother.” For something so seemingly simple, Atsumu was star struck with the idea.

And every year following, they took turns being the big brother.

They even drew up a contract, the big brother responsibilities contract. As the older brother, you must take care of the younger, you will take responsibility for the younger brother’s actions no matter how stupid, and above all else, the older has to sacrifice things for the younger brother. Signed by both Miya Atsumu and Miya Osamu.

When they were thirteen years old, Osamu took care of Atsumu when he caught the flu. When they were sixteen years old, Atsumu used the last of his money to buy pizza for his hungry brother. When the clock struck midnight, signaling their seventeenth birthday, Atsumu asked for the money back. During their twentieth year, Atsumu took a month off school and training to help Osamu set up his business.

“You don’t have to.” Osamu tried to reason with his brother.

Atsumu lifted a box from the back of the rented van, eyes staring up at the glow of the restaurant sign, “It’s what big brothers are for.”

Osamu stops Atsumu by the shoulder, “We’re not kids anymore, who cares about the big brother crap.”

“I do!” Atsumu scowls.

Osamu realized at the later age of twenty, that Atsumu clings to the title of older brother. As he watches his brother carry the box into his new restaurant, Osamu wondered if there would ever be a point where Atsumu would stop being there for him. But he also wondered, if there would ever be a moment where he could finally grant Atsumu release from the title.

At the age of twenty-three, you waltzed into Atsumu’s life.

Atsumu likes to say that it was a meet-cute. You like to say that it was the day he tried to take your head off. You interned for the Black Jackals as a sport psychologist. On your very first day, as you walked the sidelines towards the coach; you heard a mere shout. You ducked out of reflex, just barely missing the ball as it smacked against the ground behind you. Atsumu jogged with an apologetic expression and a compliment that your reflexes were killer.

Throughout your internship, you refused to go out with Atsumu. Even though the first time you bluntly rejected him, Atsumu says that you never truly said that he didn’t have a chance.

“You said.” Atsumu liked to push your buttons sometimes, “I remember.” He’s got a silly grin on him, “The first time I asked you out, you said ‘Sorry, I don’t date athletes I work for.’” Atsumu looks at the time on his phone, he takes your badge off you, “Your internship is officially over. You no longer work for the Black Jackals. One date, it’s all I ask.”

It truly wasn’t the romantic date. He was shamelessly taking you out to eat at his brother’s restaurant. You were no stranger to his twin but when you two sat in the booth, Osamu coming over to personally take your orders; Atsumu wasted little time in announcing, “Order anything you want, the most expensive item even. My big brother is paying.”

“I thought you were the older brother Atsumu?” You vaguely recall Atsumu mentioning Osamu as the younger twin.

Osamu rests a hand onto his brother’s shoulder, his grip causing Atsumu to yelp, “Yeah, we like to do this thing where every year we switch off being the older sibling. I just can’t wait! For our twenty-fourth birthday. I’ve been eyeing a new set a knives that’ll match the new dish machine I’m planning on getting next year.”

“Hey hey, we promised a limit!” Atsumu shouts.

That was the first date of many and loving Atsumu came easily. He kissed your fingers with eagerness, held you like you were the most important person in the world, and gave you all of his undivided attention. Atsumu followed you like a map leading to hidden treasure that was your lips.

You were perhaps everything he could have ever wanted, everything he ever wished for. For the first few months of the relationship, you wondered why previous girlfriends of his would ever let him go. He reasons that they all said he loved many things, but they were just simply not one of them.

Atsumu knew that when he loved something, he was always there. He attends every volleyball practice, he attends the family Sunday dinners, and he attends your college graduation.

But just like Atsumu had mentioned, he loved many things.

“Hey. Where are you?” You were shivering, hands wrapping around your arms.

“Shit.” Atsumu speaks, “I’m so sorry babe, I was helping Samu pack his things. He’s moving apartments and you know how he is, he does things last minute so I’m making sure he’s starting early.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, “But did it have to be today? This was really important to me.”

“It’s just a gathering. Samu really needed my help.” Atsumu clears his throat, “But if you want, I can head over there right now.”

“It’s fine.” You speak, “Just, next time, be here.”

“Of course!”

Osamu looks up at his brother, “Were you supposed to be somewhere else?”

Atsumu grabs some of the empty boxes, “Yeah, y/n was getting together with some of her friends. Something about introducing me to them I think.” Atsumu’s foot hits some of the book he’s stacked on the floor, “Dammit Samu, how many cookbooks do you need? You’re such a hoarder.”

“You should have gone.” Osamu watches him stack the books neatly into a box.

“Then no one would be here to help you.” Atsumu clicks his tongue, “Mom and dad are out of town, the guys are all busy, even your girlfriend isn’t over here helping; good pick there Samu.”

A book smacks Atsumu on the head, “You’re so stupid!” Osamu throws another book at him, “You ruin my life.”

Atsumu grins, sticking a tongue out to his brother, “You ruin my life too.”

If volleyball was his first priority, Osamu would be his first, first, priority and you concluded, you must fall behind both. That night was the first of many, and loving Atsumu became harder.

“Just go!” You threw your hands to your side.

Atsumu was hesitant, a jacket in his hand, “Look, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” He takes a step to you. You turn your head away when he leans in for a kiss, instead, he presses a slow peck onto your cheek, “Samu just really needs me right now.”

“Yep.” You state bitterly.

“I’m sorry. Happy birthday.”

It’s the last thing he says before he runs out the door. Instead of eating the cake with you that night, he spends it taking a drunk Osamu home, patting his brother’s back as he vomits into the toilet bowl. Even though they were twenty-seven, Atsumu took responsibility to make sure his brother was okay.

“I think we should break up.”

Atsumu thought you were joking, “Hahaha, very funny babe. You have my full and undivided attention.”

“I’m serious.” Your expression didn’t falter.

The cheery sound of the restaurant didn’t match the way Atsumu’s world was crumbling. He was still in disbelief, “What?” He tried to put up a smile, “Stop joking.”

The brief tune of happy birthday is played in the background, the workers clapping along as they sing.

“Atsumu, I just feel like I didn’t know what I was getting into when I entered this relationship.” You were trying to keep him calm, you’ve known him for five years, you’ve loved him for five years; just as hard as he loved, it was hard to let go.

You gathered your things. Atsumu slammed a hand onto the table, “Stop!”

The restaurant quietens, a spotlight on you two as you sit back down, “Atsumu.”

His phone rings. You raise a brow, his brother’s contact showing up. Atsumu picks up the phone, “What?” Atsumu frowns, “Now?” He hangs up the phone, “I have to go.”

You rub the back of your neck, “Of course.”

You two walk out of the restaurant together but you leave alone.

“Samu?” Atsumu walks into his brother’s restaurant, “Everything good?”

“We’re getting married!” The two in front of him wave their hands in his face. It was almost taunting, “I proposed this morning.” Osamu can’t help but stare into his lover’s eyes, “I wanted you to know first before we tell mom on Sunday.” When Atsumu doesn’t answer, Osamu checks the way his brother’s fists are balled, lips in a scowl. Osamu knew the telltale signs, like they were ten years old again, Atsumu was about to break, “Tsumu.”

“Couldn’t this have waited!” Atsumu, quick to anger but quicker to tears, “Couldn’t you just have told me on the phone.”

“I thought you’d be excited to be the first one to know.”

Atsumu uses his hands to push away stray tears, “I have to go.”

At twenty-eight, Atsumu feels as though the weight of the world was on his back. The silence of the apartment was like a gunshot wound and you packing your things shot another bullet into him.

“Let’s talk.” He’s refusing to let you leave.

You set the suitcase onto the ground, “Atsumu.”

“Don’t call me that.” He wants to sound strong, because he has to be strong, “You never call me that.” But he can’t sound strong when it feels like he’s losing everything he’s ever wanted.

“Atsumu.”

The more you said his name, the more it hurt, “I can fix it, whatever is wrong, I can make it better. I can be there more, I’ll stop being late, I’ll clean the whole place for the rest of our lives.”

“Let me ask you something.” He’s hopeful at your words, “If we got married, if we had kids; would Osamu still be your priority?” Your words felt like a blow, “Because I’m okay right now, as your girlfriend, I am okay. I understand that he’s your brother and you absolutely love him to death. You run to him when he needs you and he runs to you. But when I look to our future, why do I still see you running to your brother.”

“We don’t need to worry about that.” He takes your hand into his, “We just have to worry about right now.”

“But even right now, it’s always later.” Palm rested onto his cheek, “I’m sorry Atsumu.”

He holds you by the wrist, “Give me one chance. One more time to prove to you. It’s all I ask.”

Maybe it was the way he was so sincere, just like the day you fell in love with him, “Okay.” His shoulders are lifted when you whisper, “Next month on the 20th, I leave for Tokyo. 4pm. Send me off.”

“That’s it?”

You nod, “That’s it.”

He marked it on his calendar, set reminders leading up to the day and for the days in between, he was there. He was at every lunch, always home early, wrapping you in his arms to remind you of the bliss. But the closer the day got, the more anxious you felt. The more you wondered if he would remember that the 20th was a Sunday.

“I’ll meet you out front.” He kissed your lips, “I promise I’ll be here to send you off.”

You kept your arms wrapped around his neck, “Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

Atsumu was on edge the entire day. He checked his phone constantly; it didn’t help that his phone went off every hour to remind him. Nothing, he was thinking nothing would ruin the day.

“What’s up Samu?”

“Hey, so did you want to take the same car to mom and dad’s?”

“What?”

“It’s Sunday.” Osamu spoke, checking the calendar just in case, “Yeah, it’s Sunday. So you wanna take the same car or what.”

Atsumu looked at the time, four hours until you were to leave, “I don’t think I can make it this Sunday Samu.”

“Why not?”

“There’s something important I need to do today.”

“Okay, but you know you’ll have to make it up to mom.” Osamu sighs, “Her precious boy missing will be like the end of the world to her.”

Atsumu laughs, “Yeah yeah yeah. I’ll see you guys next Sunday.”

At two hours left, Atsumu was prepared to arrive earlier. A bouquet of flowers in his passenger seat as he drove down the highway, ready to greet you, ready to keep you in his life. Then his phone rang.

“Samu, seriously, I’m not coming.”

“Atsumu.” This wasn’t the voice of his brother, it was his fiancée, “We won’t be able to make it to the dinner either, are you sure you can’t go?”

“It’s fine babe, it’s not that serious!” Osamu’s voice heard lowly in the background.

“Not that serious? You’re in a hospital bed.”

“I just bumped my head.” Osamu yells.

“You have a concussion!” She shrieks back at him. Her tone lowered when she turns back to the phone, “Atsumu, you still there? Samu said you had something important to do today and it’s totally understandable if you can’t go to the dinner; but maybe you could stop by the hospital; they want to keep him over night, I could go to the dinner and explain to your parents.”

An hour and thirty minutes until you leave.

Osamu’s fiancée ran out the door the moment he stepped in. Atsumu scowled at his brother, “What stupid thing did you do this time.”

Osamu is happily eating a jelly cup, “Climbed a tree.”

“Of course, what if something happened Samu?” Atsumu lightly pushed Osamu’s head, “You’re so stupid.”

“So,” Osamu tosses the empty cup into the trash, “What’s so important today that you are skipping dinner?”

Atsumu looks at the time, “Y/n is leaving for Tokyo, she’s got some work to do there for a few days.”

Osamu notices the way his brother looks pressed for time, “So romantic, you’re gonna send her off.”

“You’re not gonna die are you?” Atsumu’s leg is bouncing.

“No.”

“This is why I said you gotta be careful Samu.” Atsumu’s phone goes off, he stops the alarm.

“Look, if you need to leave then go.”

Atsumu crosses his arms, “I can’t always be there for you!” His voice was starting to get louder, “I can’t always be responsible for taking care of you!”

“Okay!” Osamu’s growled, “You didn’t have to come here!”

“If I didn’t then who else would be here!” Atsumu began to weep, his lips in a scowl, “I’m older. I’m the older brother, through and through, if I wasn’t there for you, who knows what would have happened.”

“You act like you’re ten years older than me!” Osamu barks, “You’re only 4 minutes older! Stop treating me like I’m a burden! You’re the older brother, so what!” Osamu falls back onto the bed.

Atsumu’s phone goes off again. An hour left.

Osamu looks at the anxiousness in his brother, “Just go.” Osamu waves a finger, “Whatever it is that’s going on between you two, it’s more important than me. Just go.”

Atsumu doesn’t waver, “But.”

“You wanna sacrifice for me, get out of here.” Osamu catches the way his brother’s lips twitch to a smile.

“I’ll bring you back food, whatever you want, just text me.”

Atsumu is running out the door. Forty-five minutes left when he enters his car. He curses when he hits a red light. Fingers finding your contact, your voicemail plays in his ear.

“I’m on my way!” He’s shouting, heart beating out of his chest, “Please, believe me, I’m on my way. I’ll be a little late.” He’s heavy breathing, “but I’m coming.”

Fifteen minutes left but he’s still twenty-five minutes away. You listened to his voicemail, waiting patiently on the sofa. You have to start getting ready to go. You wish the elevators would move slowly, maybe get jammed for a second. Even as the taxi pulls up, you linger outside of the car door.

“I’m sorry, could we just wait a few more minutes.” You say to the driver.

Five minutes passed.

“Do you still want to wait?” The driver asks.

A sigh leaves your, “No.” You were already behind schedule, “Let’s go.”

You stare at your phone screen, hoping for a message from him. The sudden jolt of the car makes your head collide with the passenger seat. Your hand rubbing the throbbing part of your head as you hear the driver yell about a lunatic.

“I’m here!” Atsumu ignores the driver, banging on your window, “See, I’m here.” He’s pulling the locked handle of your door, frustrated that it wouldn’t open.

When you unlock it, he swings it wide open. Out of breath, he’s pulling you by the back of your neck; the kiss making your head spin. Before you can even register it, the sunlight bounces off his fingers; a gold band sitting between his index finger and thumb.

“And I will always be here.”

“Oh my god.” Your jaw is dropping, “What are you doing.” He’s getting on his knee, your breath caught in your throat, “Don’t.”

“Will you marry me?”

Your palms are pressed together, your fingers pressed to your lips. There’s a long pause and you take his hands into yours, “No.” The way his smile falters makes your heart clench, “Not like this.”

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted right?” He holds the ring out to you.

You run a hand through your hair, “I only wanted you here and you did that. You’re here.” You take the ring, settling it against his palm, “That’s all I ever wanted, that’s all I asked.” You pull him by the cheeks, squishing his face with a smile on yours, “You proved to me that you can be here; I mean you’re late but we can work on that.” You peck his lips quickly, “We can talk about marriage another time, but I wasn’t asking you to propose to me. It’s a really cute but very extreme gesture.”

His eyes are brimming with tears, “I thought I’d lose you forever.” Atsumu was truly soft hearted.

Your phone goes off, the alarm breaking the air between you two, “Shoot.” Your hands fall from his cheeks, “I’m late. I don’t think I’ll make it to the train.”

“I’ll drive you.” Atsumu perks up, “Right here, right now.”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh but the thin smile on his face says otherwise, “You’re literally so busy. You have volleyball practice tomorrow, it’s Sunday you’re parents are expecting you for dinner, and what if something happens to Osamu while you’re gone.”

“Practice doesn’t start until nine in the morning, I can make it back if I don’t sleep; my parents aren’t expecting me today, and Samu is in the hospital with a concussion plus he has his future wife. He doesn’t need me anymore.” Atsumu rests a smirk on his lips, “Give me something harder.”

“Wait, Osamu is in the hospital?”

Atsumu blinks, “Yeah, that’s why I was late. Oh yeah, I borrowed this from Samu too.” The ring twirls on his finger.

“You were going to propose to me with your brother’s ring.”

“Hey!” Your gaze shoots behind your shoulder, the cab driver pressing his horn, “Am I taking you or not?”

Atsumu is apologizing to the driver, grabbing your bags from the back of the car, he still pays a hefty tip to the driver for the inconvenience. As the driver leaves, Atsumu lifts your bags with one hand, the other extending out to you.

“Shall we go on a road trip.”

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his, “But first, we should stop by the hospital; you need to return the ring.”

“You’re right.” He nods, “It’s too ugly for you. You need something big, something grand. I’m thinking diamonds.”

You cackle while settling yourself into the passenger seat. Two hours into the drive, Atsumu peeks at your sleeping figure. His thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. He presses a kiss your fingers. He knew all too well that diamonds would never suit your taste. You were about simplicity, less was more, actions louder than words. How he was going to propose, what ever ring he was going to choose, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you; that you were with him and that with one phone call, he’d be running to you.

[the-himawari]

A3! Sakisaka Muku - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Memory (3/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Muku: …My dream and what I want to do has changed since then, but I fell in love with shoujo manga thanks to this manga. (I also started track and field because I admired the ace from a shoujo manga…) (The reason I am where I am today, and how I learned to admire and to want to become something…) (All of it is thanks to shoujo manga, which gave me the drive to want to change.) (So when it comes to memories, it’s possible to say this magazine is my starting point.) I'll bring an issue of "Star and Moon", which has one of my favourite stories from "Rumi's Animal Clinic" to my bromide photoshoot!

-pause-

Kazunari: Happy birthday, Mukkun! CHEEEERS!!

Troupe members: CHEERS!

Izumi: Cheers!

Kumon: Happy birthday Muku!!

Misumi: Happy birthday~!

Muku: Thanks, everyone!

Tenma: Speaking of which, what did you choose as the memorable item for your bromide photoshoot in the end?

Muku: I used the monthly shoujo manga magazine “Star and Moon”! Hold on… it’s this one.

Kumon: AH! That’s right, I remember you read that lots and lots in the past, Muku!

Yuki: To think you kept something that old—you really do love shoujo manga.

Izumi: I saw that during the shoot, but it sure takes me back.

Option 1: “The picture on the cover is really pretty.”

Izumi: The picture on the cover is really pretty.

Yuki: That’s true. Was it always this pretty?

Muku: It always has been. I initially wanted to read it since I was interested in the cover.

Yuki: Heh, I see.

Izumi: I get what you mean, feeling curious about seeing what’s inside just from this cover.

Muku: The cover of "Star and Moon" is always so beautiful and cute... My heart starts racing and I get excited every time I see it! Actually, an art book of just the cover illustrations of "Star and Moon" was released.

Izumi: Oh, really!

Muku: It's a pretty big book, so I left it at my parents' house. But I'll bring it over next time.

Izumi: Eh, are you sure?

Muku: Yes! I’d love to look at it together with you.

Izumi: Thanks! I can’t wait to look through it with you, Muku-kun!

Option 2: “There was 'All-Serve' or something, right?”

Izumi: There was something like “All-Serve” for magazines like this, right?

Tenma: All-Serve?

Misumi: What’s that~?

Izumi: Eh, don’t tell me nobody knows what I’m talking about!?

Kazunari: It was called "All Applicants Service"*, and everyone who applied could get something, right!

Kumon: They still have that sometimes! Everyone who pays 2000 yen can get it!

Muku: Yeah, they have that!

Izumi: Eh, doesn’t it only cost around 500 yen!?

Tenma: 2000 yen—isn’t that just the same as buying it…?

Muku: But they offer items you can’t get unless you apply, so that makes you want it.

Misumi: Anyways, this magazine sure is in good shape! You treasured it, huh, Muku~?

Izumi: The corners of magazines fold easily, and there’s lots of people who throw them away after they’ve finished reading them.

Muku: That’s true. But I wanted to keep them… And I didn't want the corners to get folded—. So I keep each and every book inside a zipped plastic bag along with a desiccant.

Kazunari: As expected of Mukkun!

Yuki: You can see Muku’s personality, huh?

Kazunari: By the way, I forgot to ask during the shoot, but why’d you choose this~?

Muku: I started reading shoujo manga because of a manga about a vet that’s serialized in this magazine.

Tenma: Heh, so that’s why, huh?

Misumi: I wanna read that manga too!

Izumi: Yeah, me too!

Muku: Really!? Actually, I’ve also brought the comics of that manga to the dorm after I first moved in. It's full of really great stories, the animals are really cute, and the characters and pictures are very appealing, so please give it a read!

Kazunari: Hey, then why don’t we read them together right now!?

Kumon: Let's change this into a party where we can all read and talk about Muku's recommended manga together~!

Muku: Wahh, that sounds fun! I’m so happy!

Yuki: Well, that’s fine, isn’t it?

Izumi: That sounds lovely and fitting for Muku-kun’s birthday party.

Tenma: Yeah, Muku’s the main star today after all.

Misumi: Yep, yep! It’s a shoujo manga birthday party!

Kazunari: Let’s discuss together, y’all!

Muku: Ok! (In the end, I really love reading the same manga with everyone and talking about our impressions of them together like this.) (So that’s why I don't need to switch to e-books until our storage room is full, right?)

---

*"応募者全員サービス" (~all applicants service). From what I understand, this is when a manga magazine offers limited edition products at a discount for those who purchase it. The applicant has to send proof of purchase via an application ticket included inside the magazine + payment.

previous |

[tigerseye46]

Jasmineteashipping idea: Maybe Tang, Pigsy, Sandy and Wukong are looking through his room full of stuff (like in Dumpling Destruction, the room with the vases and dolls) to see what they can throw away vs keep. Tang picks up Tripitaka's staff and starts getting really excited and explaining its importance to Sandy, but all Sandy can see is his old master.

OW! Why would you hurt me like this? That’s a sad image ;-;

But anyway-

Wukong, Pigsy, Sandy and Tang walked into a room that contained a myriad of treasures big enough to form hills. Tang had a hand on Sandy’s arm which resulted in the demon’s heart doing a light flutter at the touch.

He ignored the feeling in favor of observing the room, this was a lot… but it was to be expected after what the king told them. The pig looked at the treasure up and down then placed his hand on his hips. “You have a problem,” he remarked to the king.

The king rolled his eyes and scoffed. “This is why I asked you to help me.”

“We’re goin’ to be here all night,” the pig complained.

“Would that be so bad?”

“Contrary to what ya believe, I don’t like spendin’ every wakin’ hour with you especially doin’ somethin’ like this.”

“Well that’s disappointing and here I thought you loved me,” the king snarked.

“In your dreams.”

“Awwww so you’ll appear in my dreams then.” He winked.

Pigsy stuttered and flushed crimson. “Quiet!” He took a second to recover before asking, “Now how are we goin’ to do this?”

“We could split up,” Sandy suggested. “Tang and I take one side while you two take the other. What do you think, Tang?” He asked the scholar who had been eerily quiet the entire time.

Tang didn’t answer, entranced by the objects that each held their own history. His eyes lit up and he was practically shaking from excitement. He rushed towards a pile and began digging, grabbing whatever was in reach and rambling on about this and that.

A bead of sweat popped up on the fish demon’s face while the other two snorted. “I guess that’s a yes then.” Again no answer as the human preferred to gawk at everything, Sandy had honestly found it cute, Tang was cute.

Wukong patted his brother on the shoulder, a small laugh emitting from his lips. He whispered, “Have fun, Wujing.” It was in such a quiet, soft tone so no one but Sandy and Wukong could hear, Sandy wasn’t exactly comfortable revealing his identity just yet.

“Tch. Thanks, big brother.”

“Now Pigsy and I will take the left,” he proclaimed in a louder voice.

Pigsy took the king’s hand and led him to their half of the room. Wukong shouted, “Oh by the way, if you find any memorabilia from any of my movies and acting or shows, something along those lines, don’t throw those out!”

“Okay,” Sandy yelled back and walked towards Tang.

“Sandy! Look at all of this! This is amazing!”

The demon smiled at the other’s enthusiasm. “Yes, it is! There’s so much around here!”

“I know right! So much history lies in these objects!” He continued picking up various items, some that sent a wave of nostalgia down Wujing’s spine.

He admired the scholar’s grand descriptions as much as he admired the other himself. Tang was incredibly smart, the amount of knowledge that could be pulled from his lips was astonishing.

It was one of the million things he loved about him. The scholar had his heart in more ways than one, that’s for certain.

Joy bubbled in the demon to see Tang rave about his passion, the raving helped overshadow Wukong and Pigsy’s argument on the other side about what the king should throw away and it was an opportunity to get a bit of the human’s attention. Something he had longed for for a while but never admitted out loud.

Tang never paid much attention to him, he had grander and better things to focus on, Sandy believed he was more of an acquaintance than a friend in the other’s eyes.

But that wasn’t surprising, it wasn’t as if it hadn’t occurred before.

He held back a sigh, some things never changed. Trip- Tang didn’t care about him just as it had always been.

At least there were moments where he could be around Tang without feeling the scorn.

“Sandy,” Tang shouted.

“Yea, Tang?”

“I have just found the biggest find of them all here!”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“This!” Tang pulled an artifact out and Sandy felt his heart stop. It was his master’s staff, no, no, no. Wukong didn’t tell him he kept it. No, no, no. Tang grinned from ear to ear, doing a little twirl as he gripped it. “This is one of the biggest finds in history! This belonged to the monk Tripitaka. He-”

And white noise rang in Sandy’s ears. The human chattered but no words formed. Panic started to form in the pit of Sandy’s stomach. He closed his eyes and breathed softly then opened them to see a glow surrounding Tang, no, Tripitaka who held the staff.

He blinked rapidly in an attempt to wave the image away but it wouldn’t go away.

The monk was in his attire he wore in the Journey, a soft smile on his face, rambling presumably about the same thing Tang was and golden wings that Sandy was tempted to reach out and touch.

“Ma-master,” he managed out. This was just a hallucination, it wasn’t real, Tripitaka was gone and even if he wasn’t, he would never look at him that way.

“Wujing,” the hallucination said and took a step forward. Wujing leaned back but his feet were planted firmly on the ground.

“You’re not real.”

The monk curled a brow and tilted his head. “Am I or am I not?”

“Definitely not.”

“No matter. It is wonderful to see you, Wujing.”

“You-you too…”

Tripitaka took another step. “I have not had eyes on you in years, well I have. That is beside the point. Let me get a good look at you.” He reached his hands out to cup his cheeks. Sandy’s chest heaved, a heavy weight crushing his chest.

“S-stop.”

The monk frowned and did as he was asked. “Hm? Did I do something to upset you, Wujing?”

“You’re not real, master.”

“Why does it matter whether I’m real or not?”

“It matters to me.”

He huffed in response. “My Wujing-”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Okay, I won’t. I do not get why you do not want me to get a good look at you. I missed you so much.”

“Since when?” He asked, his teeth grinding together.

“Since forever. Do you not believe me?”

No. Absolutely not. “I do believe you, master. I just… you’re not real.” You’re not real.

“I see my appearance has caused you much distress… I only wanted to see you. I will take my leave now. Goodbye, Wujing.”

Wind swept around the monk’s feet, Sandy stared at the wind confused. He was brought back by the snap of someone’s fingers in front of his face.

The hallucination had gone away completely with Tang in his place, staff still in hand. “Sandy? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” If Sandy didn’t know any better, he could have sworn the scholar looked legitimately concerned.

Sweat threatened to drip down his face, he swallowed roughly and answered, “Yea, I’m fine. Sorry, Tang. Must have dazed off.”

Tang huffed. “So that means you missed my explanation. Do you want me to repeat it?”

“N-no, it’s-”

“Hey, Sandy,” Wukong called and waved him over. “Mind helping me with something?”

“Uh, sure! Sorry, Tang. Maybe next time.” He scattered away to help his brother. Wukong patted him on the shoulder, knowing something was wrong but not pushing the issue.

Sandy breathed deeply. That was almost too real. They were nothing alike.

He sorted out the differences in his head.

Tang was loud, Tripitaka was quiet.

Tripitaka was all about manners while Tang could care less.

Tripitaka did not give crass jokes while Tang did.

The only similarity there was they would never care about Sandy in a million years.

So many differences yet still one and the same, it left Sandy reigning in his tears.

[shortracha]

rattled: a valentine’s day shake

a/n: sorta surprise! hehe i had so much fun writing this!! thank you @harrysgoldenbum​ for being my lovely beta and an all around gem! @soullikestyles​ , this is for you for loving these two as much as i do <3

summary: audrey gives harry his present early, and harry absolutely loses his mind (not really) 

warnings: cursing? a single spanish word? i think that’s about it. again, this is shmoopy fluff.

word count: 1.6k

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

If someone were to ask Audrey what her favorite item of clothing was, she would, without a doubt, tell them it’s her maternity sweats she found at TJ Maxx. They were $5, and a bit big when she bought them, but she’s never looked back. Harry’s bought her several pairs that are similar, but they don’t compare to that pair. 

This morning, she finds herself sprawled across the bed in her favorite pair of sweats. With a snack bowl in hand, she watches the baby kick at her. Harry and Audrey are sharing a quiet morning to themselves before Harry has to go attend to some major work details this afternoon. Should be back for dinner, but it’s just not the same. He leaves for a week tomorrow as well, so they’re trying to make the most of the little bit of time they have.  

The window is cracked, the birds are chirping, and the air smells wet like it just rained. To Audrey, it’s the perfect type of morning.

“Look at her, she’s so active this morning.” Not even born yet, she’s already left awestruck by her little girl who’s showing her parents that she’s here and kickin’. Quite literally. Audrey likes to think that it means her baby is already strong, she clings to that thought. But also, damn does it hurt. Not every kick, but her belly starts to feel sore in the mornings when the baby does her thing.

“Yeah, she’s beating you up pretty good today.” Harry’s response is almost instant. He looks up from his book and places a hand on Audrey’s belly, waiting to feel his baby girl kick again. When she does, he smiles and offers his babygirl a quick, “Good morning to you too, little peach.” And returns to his book. 

Audrey tosses a grape into the air and manages to catch it in her mouth on the first try. She throws her arms up in celebration, and Harry high-fives her without looking up from his book. He does chuckle to himself, but it’s unknown if he is amused from the book he is reading or the actions of his fiancée.

“But, can you do it three times in a row?” He carefully places a bookmark on his current page and closes the cover. He reaches across Audrey’s lap, attempts to grab a few grapes. She smacks his hand away and scolds him with a quick, “¡Déjalo! It’s mine!” before scooting the bowl further from him, almost to the edge of the bed. He rubs his hand and pouts.

“Um, ow!” He exclaims dramatically. 

Harry crawls over her, grabs a handful of grapes, just to bother her, and wiggles into a more upright seating position. Back to the headboard, he tosses two up and catches them both in his mouth one after the other.

Audrey rolls her eyes, “Showoff,” she mutters with disdain.  

“I’m a showoff? Do you really want to play this game?” He laughs, incredulous. 

“Whatever,” She waves him off. As weird as it may seem, it’s moments like these that Audrey enjoys the most. It's the little things for her. She tends to remember them more, compared to others. It’s not always easy, but the little moments she gets to spend feeling normal with her best friend are ones she’ll treasure forever. 

“Help me down? I gotta pee.”

Harry hops down from his side of the bed and walks around, grabbing her hands and holding her steady as she scoots her way off the bed.

She shuffles into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as she beelines it for the toilet. 

“Uh, baby, could you close the door, maybe?” Harry’s question is more rhetorical in nature. He knows she’s not going to get back up to close the door. 

Since Audrey got pregnant, she’s become a lot less...private about a lot of things. She was never one to really care too much about the things some people would feel embarrassed about, but things took on a whole different level after she found out about the baby. 

“No, it’s fine.”

“But I can..hear everything.” He laughs on the last word, in disbelief at just how comfortable she seems to be around him. It’s a good thing, to be sure. She just shows it in odd ways.

A few minutes go by, Audrey does her business and begins her exit from the bathroom. 

“Hey, babe, would you mind if I gave you your present early?” Audrey calls out from the bathroom, but she’s not really looking for an answer. She’s already grabbed the small box from the linen closet on her way out and is approaching him, doing her best to hide it behind her back. Unfortunately, she fails.

“Well, I don’t have much choice, do I?” 

Harry’s not one to say no to presents, but they had agreed to wait until he got back from his trip. However, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for the gift exchange.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s so terrible that you’re getting a gift, H.”

“‘M not ungrateful, if that’s what you’re implying.” He pretends to be offended, clutching his chest and an exaggerated gasp leaves his mouth. 

“It is.” He rolls his eyes at her response, Audrey just giggles. 

“Well, are you gonna give me my present, or am I meant to guess what it is first?”

She sets the box on the bed, lifts herself back onto it and slides next to him. Her nerves are bubbling, making her restless. Now, Audrey knows that Harry will be happy with whatever the gift is, but it still intimidates her, when it comes to giving a gift to her loved ones. But this particular gift has her feeling vulnerable and slightly uncertain.

“Here you go, sport.” 

“Don’t ever call me that again.” Harry demands. Instead of responding, she presses a gentle kiss to his cheek and taps the box. 

“Just open it,” he smiles and shifts to sit directly in front of him, eager to watch his reaction. 

“Okay, okay..” Harry trails off, losing his train of thought while he unties the bowtie on top of  the rectangular box. Setting the lid aside, he lifts a small leather photo album out of the box and Audrey’s heart begins to pound in her chest. 

“What’s this?” He asks with such a gentle voice, it’s barely above a whisper. He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, and opens the album to the first page of 12.

Inside, is a picture of Audrey sat on her knees in a black bra and panties, baby bump on full display. He sits there, carefully examining the photo, expression completely unreadable. Audrey has absolutely no idea how he feels. It’s terrifying. 

He takes the time to examine every photo He takes in every detail from each HD shot of Audrey in sexy position or another. Audrey’s favorite is a closeup shot of her chest, arm covering her nipples and her engagement ring sparkling to the camera. As he flips through the album, he keeps the same stoic expression. Each second seems to feel longer than the last. It drives Audrey crazy not knowing what Harry thinks of his gift.

Eventually, Harry reaches the last photo and the slightest hint of a smirk lifts from his lips and Audrey breathes a little easier. It’s a miracle she’s managed to stay quiet the whole time. It’s absolutely no small feat for her. 

“So...What do you think?” She’s meek, cheeks warming up in embarrassment. “Do you hate it?” Harry snaps the book closed and looks up to make eye contact with her. 

He offers her a sly smile, while he adjusts his pants. “Of course not!” His voice cracks ever so slightly, and Audrey lets out the most ridiculous laugh he’s ever heard. More a chortle than anything else. 

She catches on. 

“Which one do you like best?” She crawls beside him and takes the album from his hands.

“When did you do this?” 

“That’s not what I asked.” She browses the album herself, curious to see if she can guess which one it is. If she had to, it would be the black and white shot of her on the floor, knees skyward and back arched slightly, baby bump on full display again. “I did this not too long after we found out about Peach being a girl.” She recalls the time she left for the afternoon under the guise of a “girl’s day”. Harry never suspected a thing. 

“And you managed to keep a boudoir shoot secret? I’m impressed, baby.” He kisses her head in praise. “You know what, I think we should blow this one up. Do you have access to the digitals?” He points to the open page, the black and white floor shot, just as Audrey suspected. 

“A few of them, yeah. What exactly do you want that for, if you have the album?” She looks up at him, curious. 

“I want this one in the living room.”

“Absolutely not!” 

“C’mon, it would look so good!” He argues with her, tapping the page for emphasis. “You look so good!”

She feels her cheeks warm up again, beyond happy that he likes his gift. “You’re very sweet, but we’re not hanging anything up in the living room.”

“Why not? I should be able to show off how sexy you look!”

“Harry, I refuse to have a picture of me, nearly naked might I add, hanging in our living room.” Audrey crosses her arms and keeps a light scowl on her face. 

With some discussion, they finally manage to compromise; Audrey lets him hang up a canvas of the floor shot on the wall by the bed when he gets back from his trip. The album finds a home in the bathroom.

[some-dr-writings]

Mikan, Nagito and Miu x Prince-like male S/O

Mikan Tsumiki:

·       “Hmm? Ah! My love! Wait- I’m working!” You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “You are a professional. You are working. No lovey-doveyness…” Besides, you didn’t want to startle Mikan. You hated when you had done so on occasion, greeting when she was completely unsuspecting of it and causing her clumsiness to at up, most often in the form of her falling or breaking something. “Hello my love, welcome to the store. How may I help you, if at all?” “Y-Y/N. Good. I was worried about asking someone else for help. Uh, the class needs some more supplies for the school festival, and… I… I was sent to do the shopping and I don’t, don’t know where the items are and… I-I’m so sorry to bother you at work!” “Mikan, please worry not. It is literally my job to help. I do not mind at all, in fact I actually enjoy doing so, just as you enjoy caring for those who are sick.” “… T-thank you. You always know just what to say.” “I do? I but speak the truth, though I am glad my words can place you at ease.”

·       And so the pair of you went about from aisle to aisle collecting each of the items. However your job was to assist all and not only one so you would occasionally have to part from her to help someone else, you always made sure to quickly return to her side though, she still needed assistance too after all.

·       As you were helping someone else the daylights were startled out of you hearing a loud crashing sound come from where you had left Mikan. Immediately you raced to her grabbing some throw blanket off the shelf as you ran past. Upon reaching her, you immediately tossed the blanket on her. You knew Mikan had a sort of talent for falling in the most precarious of positions, so to save her the embarrassment you tossed it on her, despite not looking for yourself, just in case. Items were scattered across the ground and a shelf was knocked over. “WAAAAHHHHHHH! I’, SO SORR-” “Shhhhhh” You quickly placed a hand over her mouth getting her to quiet down. Moments later some of your co-workers and customers came by to check the ruckus. “I’m so sorry mam’! Are you hurt?” “h-huh? Uh, no?” Mikan looked to you completely confused. You never called her ‘mam’’ before. “Y/N what happened?” You immediately faced your co-worker looking so flustered and apologetic. “I was trying to help this woman reach some items, and I knocked over everything.” “What.” “She seems rather dazed still. I hate to ask this, but would you help place the items while I check on her?” “… Sure dude.” “Thank you!”

·       “Y/N it was my fault, why did you say you did it?” You and Mikan hid away at the opposite side of the store, away from prying eyes. “Well… You deal with embarrassing moments like that too often. I just wanted to try to protect you from it. I apologize if I just made it more so for you!” “N-no, no! What you did was very sweet! Thank you. But I’m sorry for being such a burden to you!” “You may see it as being a burden, but I do not. I am always glad to help you, even when I’m not working.”

    Nagito Komaeda:

·       The longer you waited the bigger the pit in your stomach grew. You were suddenly snapped from your thoughts feeling a pressure on your shoulder. “Ah! Oh, Boss. You need something.” “Yeah, for you to go so I don’t need to pay you over time.” They smiled, giving you a light pat on the back. “So still not here? They were supposed to take over your shift a while ago.” “They still haven’t called in sick or anything?” “No, no at peep.” Your boss sighed catching your worried expression as you glanced toward the front door. “Your shift ended. I know you like sticking around till your replacement arrives, but this is getting ridiculous. Shove off, take your break and relax. I’ll call you when they come in.” “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying, and you don’t even have to pay me over time. I don’t want to leave you to have to take care of the place by yourself.” “Y/N, I like you, you’re a good kid. So I’m going to give you a piece of advice.” They leaned in draping an arm over your shoulders. “When your boss tells you to actually rest and NOT work, you should REALLY take advantage of that. So…” They gently shoved you towards the door. “Off you go. And I’ll even call you when I get news on them, alright.” “Ah, that would be very much appreciated! Thank you. And you be sure to not hesitate to call me if you end up needing or wanting a extra hand.” “Of course I will! Now just go before I change my mind.” “Yes Boss!” As you exited the pharmacy you hesitated for a moment not seeing any sign of your co-worker anywhere. Not wanting to upset your boss though you fled the scene.

·       Something must have happened, you knew it must have, it was way too late to call in sick or to ask for a change in shifts because of conflicting schedules, there must have been an incident or accident, or something of some sort. No! Distract yourself from this! Uh, dinner! What were you going to have for dinner! You could think of that! As you tried recounting all you had left from your last trip to the grocery store you noticed something that immediately had you worrying again. A car crash in the middle of the intersection blocking most traffic. You tried looking away, not wanting to possibly witness the potentially bloody scene. Thankfully the hospital was near by so they should be alright. Wanting to avoid the foot traffic you opted to cut through the park.

·       Even with your worries it was a lovely day at least. Clear blue sky, cool and breezy, the birds were singing, the loud snapping sound, a man was screaming… what? You immediately ran off to investigate.

·       “Nagito!?” “Hey Y/N.” “Are you hurting? You’re covered in bruises and scratches. What happened?” Nagito shakily got up, only to lose his balance. You immediately caught him, and gently placed him down, having him lean against the tree. “Well the usual really. I got hit by a car, was sent flying through the air and landed in a tree. I was resting here but then the branch broke and you caught me.” “… All that, and you only have scratches.” “Yep.” “… Why am I really surprised anymore. I know from times past when your bad luck struck you never needed the hospital, but I’m still inclined to have a professional check you just in case.” “Y/N I’m fine, really.” You kneeled before him, looking to him so tenderly, your visage shining under the sun’s rays. “At the very least allow me to patch up these scratches, so my heart be be placed a little at ease. Alright?” “Well, it’s not my place to stop you.” “…” The curse of Nagito, you already knew it, thinking you’re too lowly for care and attention but also too lowly to refuse anything offered from those he perceived as greater than himself. This was the closest you’d ever get to a ‘yes’ from him. Gently you took his hand and lead the way, after making sure he could walk.

·       “Hey Boss?” “Eh? Y/N you’re not wor-… What happened to him?” Your boss pointed to Nagito. “Exactly. May I use the first aid kit in the back?” “Sure, but you’re leaving right after.” “Thank you, Boss!” “One more thing, just got that call, seems there was a car crash not far from here and the traffic has been awful.” “Thank goodness. Though shouldn’t I stay longer-” “Mend your boyfriend then scram. That’s an order.” “Yes Boss!”

·       You had Nagito sit on a chair as you patched him up.  “You can do what you want, but I have to wonder sometimes why someone like you, can love me back, literal trash. You give me so much, and I have nothing I can give in return… It’s awfully unfair to you.” “…” Honestly, in that moment you were tempted to ignore that comment. You had this conversation over and over, always saying he was not trash, but… “Y/N? What’s wrong?” “I just realized I’ve done you a grave disservice! I’m so sorry!” “What could you possibly have done?” You sighed, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. “I’ve been invalidating your feelings this whole time. I’ve been a horrendous boyfriend. Even before getting together I’ve told you you’re not trash, yet that IS how you see yourself. As your partner it is wrong of me to tell you your feelings are not valid. If one feeling is not valid, then what about the others, would that seep into the others and you believe all your feelings are not valid, even down to your love for me. I can’t ignore your feelings, as much as I may disagree and not like them. I can’t disregard them. They still are very real. I… I’m sorry. Telling you you’re wrong is not going to help. If I invalidate your feeling of yourself now, then what about if you gain self-worth and love yourself, would you find that love for yourself invalid because I denied your feelings in the past? I’m sorry.” “No, Y/N it’s fine-” “And I must respectfully disagree and say it’s not fine. However, I must say that is true of yourself too. Ever heard of a saying, ‘one man’s trash is another’s treasure’? You may see yourself as trash, but I and so many others see you as a treasure. Your feelings are valid, but so are mine. I love you, and I wish you to be alright.” Ever so tenderly you gave him a kiss on the forehead before going back to tending to his wounds. “I must also say, I do believe you to be a far greater man than me. From the very start you’ve accepted my affections, even when believing you didn’t deserve it. You never invalidated my feelings. And I thank you for allowing me to grow and catch up in my own time, but now that I’m not blinded to your own feeling. I swear I’ll continue to do all that I can to be an even greater boyfriend and partner for you.” Surely getting someone as great as you to fall for him was entirely due to his luck. It even made this moment happen… Though… being the caring person you were… possibly, just possibly, would this… all of this have happened anyway?

    Miu Iruma:

·       “My love, I’m home! I apologize for being late. Turns out the store had a sale and I had to run around town for a bit, but I found everything.” You weren’t surprised to be greeted to no response, in fact you would have been surprised to get a response at all, it was ever so rarer when you did. You skittered around the house, placing all the items away only being left with one last bag. With it in hand you trotted over to the back of the house were a large metal door lay embedded into the wall. You knocked a few times, getting no response. Just in case you checked the handle, finding the door was unlocked. You peeked in finding your wife working away at her table, sparks flying, that bright light reflected in her goggles. Not wanting to disturb her from her work you opted to just place the items away. However as you did so, you realized she was working with the wires that she was having trouble with, them constantly shorting out on her. Sidling up beside her you gave her a kiss to the temple as you placed the new wires beside her.

·       “Oh, so now you decide to show up! What took you so long? Playing with yourself because I was working?” Before you could answer Miu noticed the new wires. When she turned to face you she noticed that the supplies she was running low on were now replaced and refilled. “… What should I have expected. Of course you still grovel at my genius, sneaking into my workshop and seeing what I was low on.” “Yes your… b-bitchass genius goes uncompared-” Before you could continue you were cutoff by uproarious laughter, Miu doubling over, you catching her before she could fall out of her seat. “What the hell was THAT!?” “I… I-I wanted to try using your… colorful language. I thought you might like it and that does seem to be the case.” “Oh. My. God. I am SUCH a good bad influence on you!” She then smirked, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling herself close and pressing herself against you. “Or my husband finally decided to get cocky and use that as an excuse to make me laugh and try to get a feel.” “Love, if I wanted to do that, I would just tell you I was in the mood.” “Whatever! This gives me a new idea for an invention.” “Oh, and what might that be?” Miu simply chuckled and booped your nose. “Oh, you’ll see.”

[skzsauce01]

Cold, White

Synopsis: While competing in a QR code treasure hunt event at your friend’s Halloween party, an unexpected companion gives you a little company. 

A districtninewriters event.

Warning: slight sexual harassment, mentions of creepy-ish props

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: gn!reader x exbf!Seo Changbin

Genre: fluff, college party au

Read intro here. Return with the “pink Among Us astronaut” link

But which one?

After a few moments, you spotted two vampires talking softly to each other. It shouldn’t be too hard to strike up a conversation with them, you decided and began walking over. Halfway there though, you turned around, feeling someone or something staring at you back. However, you didn’t spot anything, and turned back around to head towards your destination, all the while still feeling like you had eyes glued to your back.

“Hi,” you greeted, walking up to the vampires. “I’m Y/N. How are you two doing tonight?”

They turned to you, and you immediately regretted choosing them to walk up to.

“Oh, a little skeleton,” one of them smirked, looking you up and down. You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

The other one slung his arm around your waist and leaned in far too close. “Can I get you something to drink, Lil Boo?”

Oh, you did not skip studying for this. “Actually, I’m going to--”

Out of nowhere, the lights turned off. There were a few screams, but none as loud as the one in your heart when the vampire used the darkness as a chance to slide his hand down to other areas. You tried stepping away, but his grip was strong, so you just squeezed your eyes shut and hoped the moment would pass quickly. 

Before he got all the way down, however, you heard a loud crack and felt his hand flying off of you as he tumbled a few feet backwards.

“What on earth, man?” he cursed, and you were suddenly aware of a new presence beside you.

The newcomer made a weird noise as if he was breathing through a machine and turned towards you. He offered you a hand, and when you tentatively put yours into it, he dragged you away, leaving behind the vampires.

“Thanks,” you gasped once he finally stopped at a faraway corner.

He placed one hand on his hip and used the other to rub the back of his… head? It was much too big to be a human head, you decided. Was he wearing some sort of mask? It was hard to see in the dark, but he sensed your curiosity and leaned forward for you to take a better look. You reached for it slowly, and when he didn’t resist, you placed your hands onto his costume. The majority of it was warm and fabric-y except for where your thumbs landed. There, it was cold and possibly white like a one-way glass. A visor of some sort, you decided, and tried to push it up to see his face.

As soon as you do, however, he jerked back and quickly shut the glass back down.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered out.

He seemed too distracted to respond to your apology. You turned to see what he was looking at and saw smoke rising from BamBam’s mezzanine. Was there a fire? No, the kitchen is to your right. Before you could question any further, the lights came back on, but only on the second floor, casting a spotlight over your best friend who stepped grandly out of the smoke.

“Good evening, ghouls and fools, snitches and witches!” his voice boomed. “Are you ready for tonight’s main event?”

Ah, that’s right. The reason why BamBam’s parties were so popular was because there was always a special kick to them, be it a go cart race or a game of Running Man. This must be why the lights are off, you realized.

“Around the house, I have hidden a QR code on each floor of the house. Each one will give you a couple of words which when unscrambled will give you the name of the item. The person who makes it to the backyard gazebo first with their item first wins,” he explained. “Each code is locked by their own minigame which you have to complete to access, but of course, your efforts will not be without reward.” There were a few ooh’s at that announcement. “Whoever brings me their time first wins… two tickets to the Caribbeans!” 

Your ears perked up at that; maybe you were glad to have skipped studying after all. The Caribbeans! You’d heard many good things about that vacation spot and had always wanted to go with someone special. Someone special. You looked sadly down at your hand that felt oddly empty without a familiar warmth around it.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go!” prompted BamBam.

Around you, footsteps of partygoers dispersed in a frenzy and excited squeals filled the air. You looked around, surprised to see the masked man still standing beside you.

“Are you going to participate?” you asked.

Instead of answering, he pointed at you.

“Me? Yeah, I guess I am.”

He seemed to perk up at your answer and shyly tugged on your sleeve.

“Do you want to come with me?” you guessed. 

He nods.

“Alright, but if you win, you’ve gotta give me one of those tickets,” you joked, but to your surprise, he agreed to your condition readily.

The first minigame was not hard to find since there was a crowd around it. It was a simple ring toss game where you had to throw pumpkin shaped hoops onto brooms labeled with different point values until you reached 100.

The task proved to be more difficult than anticipated, but you were making considerable progress compared to others because your pink friend ran back and forths, picking up your rings for you.

At last, you got to a hundred, and the gamemaster revealed the code to you. You scanned it with your phone and read the clue.

친. (Chin)

Satisfied, you looked up, expecting to see the astronaut throwing his rings. Instead, you found him waiting for you just around the corner.

“You aren’t participating?” you asked, walking up to him.

Again, instead of answering, he pulled you by the sleeve to the next floor. By the pep in his step, you could imagine him smiling behind that cold white mask, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew something you didn’t.

You nearly laughed when you saw what challenge awaited you on the next floor. The room was decorated to the top with zombies and blood, but at the center of it all was a wizard stirring a pot labeled “love potion.”

“Who dares step foot into my lair?” hissed the sorcerer with an accent that was too over the top even for his character. 

“Just tell us what the mission is, Felix.” You shook your head with a smile. You knew Felix through your ex-boyfriend, and you stayed in touch even after whom you thought was your soulmate left you for college. 

Felix faltered for a moment from you calling him out, but quickly recomposed himself. “Very well, brave one. Your next mission is to prove that my potion works.”

You raised a brow. “How?”

“By drinking it, of course. And then--” he smirked in a way that set off alarms in your system-- “kiss me.”

“Oh, come on. What are we, twelve?” you scoffed at the reverse kissing booth challenge. Still, you crossed your arms and stepped over plastic bones and foam eyeballs to make your way over to him.

When you were about halfway, you noticed Felix’s smirk suddenly growing wider and questioned why. Your curiosity was soon satisfied, however, when the pink astronaut suddenly overtook you with large strides and beat you to the cauldron.

“Hey!” you complained, but your words fell on deaf ears.

The pink man kept his face turned away from you as he flipped up his cold white visor and downed the potion. It must have tasted horrible since this was a challenge after all, but he didn’t miss a beat slamming the now-empty vial on an adjacent table and planting a smooch squarely on Felix’s green face. He then flipped his visor back down and gestured at your phone.

“Me? Scan?” you frowned. “But you--”

Growing impatient, he took the phone from you and scanned Felix’s code. He then stuffed the device back into your hands and dragged you up the next flight of stairs.

You questioned his sudden change in demeanor but kept it to yourself. Instead, you looked at the next clue.

자. (Ja)

As soon as you arrived on the third floor, you immediately decided that its minigame was the hardest. Your eye twitched, not that anyone could see it doing so since the floor was completely blacked out. The only thing you could see was some glow-in-the-dark thread, and you were supposed to thread it through a normal, matte needle.

“This can’t be possible,” you deadpanned.

The gamemaster, someone you couldn’t see but very much wanted to give a piece of your mind, “wooooo’ed” unhelpfully at your misery. 

Your eyes struggled to switch between the different light levels, making your whole body tense up and your hand to shake. You let out a frustrated grunt after your nth attempt. By then, other competitors also entered the room, making you nervous and even more shaky.

As you were about to hang your head in surrender, you saw a pink glove clasping over your hand and steadying it. The touch sent a familiar sense of electricity up your spine, but you ignored it in favor of the task at hand. Together, you finally got the thread through after five tries.

“Yes!” you celebrated, startling a few other competitors around you.

The gamemaster handed you a slip of paper with the code on it, and your new friend led you to the exit by hand. When you realized that his hand hadn’t let go of yours since the game, a blush crept over your cheeks. You cleared your throat twice to push down the heat, but it seemed the astronaut took it the wrong way and immediately dropped it and looked at you with worry.

“It’s fine,” you shook your head when he started bowing. “I, uh, I just had something in my throat. I should thank you, actually, for helping me back there… and for all the times before that too.”

He stared at you for a few moments, looking down as he was a few steps above you on the staircase, and you couldn’t help but wonder again what he was hiding behind that cold white mask. Just as you were about to reach forward again, however, he turned back around and resumed climbing the stairs.

The last minigame was on the roof. There, a sign greeted you, telling you that multiple QR codes are hidden around the place, and that you had to find one of the many to complete your word hunt.

You looked at the code you received from the thread game. 구 (gu), it read. What could the last hint be?

You and your pink friend looked and looked, but struggled to find anything. BamBam sure didn’t make things easy for you, did he, you scoffed dryly, looking at all the pools of slime and hollowed out pumpkins where the code could be hiding.

It didn’t help that it was particularly cold that night and that you were on the roof of a three story house. As you shuffled around some prop mummy’s linen for the code, you felt a chill run up your body.

The astronaut must have been at least ten broomsticks away, but as soon you shivered, you heard him walking right up to you.

“Hey. Did you find it?” you asked, not grasping why he was here.

He shook his head and rubbed his hands up and down his upper arms before pointing at you.

“Me? Yeah, I guess it’s a little cold, but I’m okay. Let’s just find this thing quickly and head back down.”

You turned back to your mummy, but your new friend didn’t move. Despite wanting to keep you warm, he realized he wasn’t equipped with a jacket to give you.

Finding nothing in the mummy, you moved on to the next coffin, oblivious to the man’s distress behind you, and patted down a plastic vampire for any goods. As you were distracted, you didn’t realize a figure looming over you from behind. By the time you noticed the shadow being casted over you, it was too late to avoid--

“Wha--”

-- the hug.

The pink astronaut, unable to come up with any other solutions, decided to share his body heat with you. It warmed you up alright, but you weren’t sure if it was because of him or the fire that ignited on your cheeks.

“H-how are we supposed to search like this?” you stuttered.

He thought for a minute before waddling side to side to show you how you could walk.

You chuckled at his antics. “This isn’t going to--” 

And then you saw it. Right there. Stuck on his arm. The last QR code.

“You found it!” you exclaimed, surprising him with how quickly you whipped out your phone and took a picture of the code. “You must have brushed up against it when you were looking around.

This time, you grabbed his hand and made your way downstairs to the backyard as the scanning process loaded on your phone. Once there, you looked at your last clue.

“남(nam),” you read aloud now that no competitors were around you. “친. 자. 구 . 남.” The words were scrambled, so you read them out a few more times until the realization hit you. 

Your eyes widened. “남자 친구(namja chingu). Boyfriend. But I don’t--”

And then you looked up at the pink astronaut. He stared back at you, unmovingly, and your hands gravitated to his visor again. This time, he didn’t stop you, so you pushed the cold, white glass up to reveal the warmest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Changbin…” you breathed, recognizing him right away.

“Y/N, I know no amount of apologies can ever atone for me leaving you, but I’d do anything for you to take me baaaaaaa-aack!”

Without even hearing the rest of it, you dragged him to the balcony where BamBam was waiting.

“I got it!” you shout at your friend. “The item! I’ve got it right here!”

BamBam looked amused. “This is your boyfriend, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you said without missing a beat. Both the boys jumped a little in surprise at your eagerness.

“Alright then,” chuckled your best friend into a microphone. “We have a winner!”

You could hear groans coming from the house as gold confetti rained down from the gazebo. BamBam handed you the tickets and shot you a wink before making himself scarce. You gleamed at the prize until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Y/N-- oof!”

You attacked Changbin with a hug and wrapped your arms around him, frowning when you noticed he lost weight. “You’re back…”

After overcoming his shock, he returned the hug and patted you on the head. “I’m sorry I left you.”

You shook your head against him. “No, don’t be. You were chasing your dreams. What kind of person would I be if I held you back just because of our relationship?”

“But I hurt you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did, so--” You pulled your face away from his body to look him in the eyes-- “make it up to me at the Caribbeans?” 

Another loving smile spread across his face as he cupped yours with his hand. “I will, but be warned: I’m never letting you go again after that.”

You laughed together. “Ooh, spooky.”

~ ad.gold

[sonicgetsrawed]

The Stars are Full of Hope, The Moon Shatters it

There will be a happy ending, I promise! Just bear with me through this one! On the plus? Side this is the first time I’ve cried writing my own fic so there’s that! Part three of the Var is captured by Donella fic! Enjoy! 

“The stars are so pretty tonight.”

“You would say something like that.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I think the moon is prettier.”

Varian hummed, leaning his head against Hugo’s shoulder, playing with his fingers. “I like the stars. They give me hope.”

“Are we still talking about the stars?”

“You tell me.” A smile played on his lips before bringing them up to meet Hugo’s.

Varian kept his eyes focused on the ground, he couldn’t look at the stars, the moon was shining too bright, taunting him, twisting his memories with its harsh light. He hated this, he hated all of this. He wanted to help Hugo, but at the same time he couldn’t stand to look at the other, all of the memories he once treasured would be tainted with this terrible bitterness of his betrayal. Was this how Rapunzel had felt? No, it couldn’t be. He was sure it still hurt like hell, but they were never anything other than friends, they might not have even really been friends then. He had idolized her, cherished the time they spent together, still it hadn’t quite been friendship at that point, he had just been eager to impress and she just wanted answers. With Hugo it was different, he had nothing to gain, still he gave himself to the other, emotionally, physically, in anyway possible, he was Hugo’s and Hugo was his. At least he thought.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight. He wanted to scream and cry and punch and kick. Most of all he still wanted to run into Hugo’s arms, let him comfort him, tell him everything was going to be fine, they’d figure it out together, they always did. Except they couldn’t anymore, they couldn’t rely on each other, they couldn’t trust each other. He found himself second guessing every part of their relationship, how much of it had been real? How much of it had been to get the information he needed?

“What did you wish for this time?”

“Maybe if I look at the journal I can find something you missed.”

“I like you! You stubborn bastard! Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“Varian?”

He needed to get away he couldn’t do this, not here, not now. His mind didn’t seem to care, dragging up memory after memory. He was drowning in them, he couldn’t breathe, still he ran. Trying to out run his own mind as each resurfacing memory was slaughtered by the implications of Hugo’s betrayal behind them. He couldn’t breathe. He needed it to stop, he needed it all to stop.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I can still see them, dumbass. Their just blurry.”

“Varian!”

“Why do you have my mother’s journal?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but you just have to ruin everything don’t you?” Varian shot him a look at that, Hugo holding his hands up in defeat. “I found a clue to the next totem.”

“Can you hear me?”

“Hey, Varian?” He hummed in response from where his head rested on Hugo’s chest, drawing patterns on his bare chest. “This might not be the most romantic way to say this but-“

Varian pecked his lips, smiling brightly. “I love you too.” Hugo’s eyes lit up like stars.

He blinked, tears blurring his vision. Hugo was crouched in front of him, concern evident on his features. Varian leaned against a tree, the coldness of the ground seeping through his clothes. He dug his fingers into the dirt, tangling the stands of grass around them. How had he gotten here?

“Varian, where are you?” Hugo asked, voice steady despite his own lingering tears.

Varian didn’t answer the question, bringing his eyes up to the sky. The stars twinkling down through the branches of the trees. “The stars look pretty tonight.”

Hugo laughed, Varian didn’t understand, it wasn’t funny, this wasn’t funny. “You would say something like that.”

Varian smiled softly, letting the slight breeze tousle his hair. It was a wonderfully blissful moment and for that moment he forgot what brought him there. It was just him and Hugo under the stars. And then it crashed down around him as Hugo’s hand found his. The pain, the betrayal, the lies, he felt like he was being stabbed in the heart over and over. He pulled his hand away, and somehow it made him feel worse. The anger welled up inside him, desperately trying to claw its way out. Hugo needed to suffer like he made him suffer. He needed to feel his pain, understand his hurt. He banished the thoughts, he’d been down that path before and he refused to return to it, still his pain remained, piling on with the guilt of even thinking those terrible thoughts. He opened his mouth to say something, to say anything that might help, but the words never formed, they never got the chance.

“Isn’t this sweet?” Donella cooed, stepping out from the fog that was swirling around them. “I thought you knew better than to get attached to your playthings.”

“Hey!” Varian yelled, pushing himself to his feet and shooting her the most menacing look he could as if he hadn’t been on the verge of a breakdown seconds before. He hated how she talked about him like he wasn’t even there. He hated it more when Hugo raised his hand to silence him.

“Varian, is not a plaything. He’s-“

Donella laughed, the sound echoing in the darkness. “He’s not? So you didn’t string him along with sweet words, promises that you’ll be better, that you can change. Did you tell him you loved him before or after you fucked?”

Hugo was shaking at his side, Varian could practically see the steam coming off of him. It didn’t really matter though, the words hurt, it hurt more that Hugo wasn’t denying it. He said nothing in his defense, he said nothing to contradict her words. Varian wanted to defend him, to stick up for him, but he couldn’t, he didn’t know him anymore, all he knew were the lies he weaved, all he knew was the hole in his heart.

“Don’t look so surprised, dear, I know all your tricks. Just give me the totems and I’ll forget this ever happened. I’ll even let your little toy go.” Donella had her hand outstretched again. Varian was getting sick of it. He took a step back fully intending to run, whether or not Hugo came with or after him was up to him. He didn’t get far, Donella’s henchman slamming him into a tree and pinning him there. He gasped for air, the wind having been knocked from his lungs in the confrontation. Still he tried to get away, a battle he knew from experience he’d lose.

“I need you to make a decision, Hugo.” Donella was sounding more impatient, tone taking on a sharper edge.

“I can’t give you the totems.” Hugo responded, hands clenched at his sides, eyes darting around as he tried to find a way out.

Donella clicked her tongue, nodding her head to her henchman. His hand moved from Varian’s chest to his throat, eliciting a gasp from him as his airways closed. He clawed at the hand, trying to get him to let go, he needed to breathe, his head was already spinning and this was not helping. He didn’t hear the conversation that happened in front of him, through his fading vision he could make out their lips moving, Hugo obviously angry, yelling, frantically gesturing to Varian. Donella looked bored, twirling a knife between her fingers, an action he’d seen Hugo do many times. And then he was dropped. He fell to his knees, greedily sucking in air, Hugo suddenly in front of him, his hands were running through his hair, his face, anywhere they could, checking to see if Varian was okay.

He placed a shaky kiss on top of his head, Varian didn’t have the energy to push him away. “Are you okay?”

This time he did push Hugo away. “What did you do?!” He asked between breaths. He didn’t know air could be so wonderful, how had he taken it for granted? He tried not to focus on it too much, Hugo was already digging around in his backpack. “What are you doing?!”

“I’d be thanking him if I were you.” It took him entirely too long to realize Donella was talking to him. “He did trade the totems for your life.”

“You didn’t.” He said, eyes wide as they searched Hugo’s for an answer. Hugo nodded softly, the action almost not visible it was so minute. He wanted to be mad, to scream, to fight, but he didn’t have it left in him, he was too emotionally drained.

“I did.” Hugo answered, although his eyes held something else beneath the words. A small twinkle behind all the emotion, something he knew meant he had a plan. He hated after everything he was forced to trust Hugo, he hated that he still did. He let Hugo remove the backpack from his shoulders, in one swift motion he swung it back and it connected with Donella’s henchmen’s head with a sickening crack. He dropped to the ground with a loud thud. Varian scrambled to his feet, the air leaving his lungs again when Hugo slammed the backpack into his arms. “Run.”

“I would listen to him, dear.” Donella warned as she lunged, swinging her knife through the air. He ducked just in time to dodge the strike. Hugo grabbed her arm and tugged it behind her back. She simply dropped the knife into her other hand, this time it was poised to strike Hugo. He released her arm to grab the knife. She let him, kicking him in the gut as soon as he had it in his grasp. He stumbled back, dropping the knife in the process, but staying upright. Varian dove for the knife scooping it off the ground. He fumbled with the knife, Donella punching Hugo as he struggled to grasp the item. He saw Hugo hit the ground, wasting no time in plunging the knife into Donella’s shoulder.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, little pest.” She screamed, pulling the knife out of her shoulder. She swung it through the air, Varian dodging at such a strange angle that he could feel the tip of it cut across his eyebrow. He blamed the added weight of the totems for throwing his off balance and sending him to the floor. Varian’s eyes grew wide in fear, as she rose the knife, he covered his face as if it would do anything against the incoming attack. He felt the wind as it sliced through the air, heard the rip of the fabric, and yet he felt no pain, not anymore than he already felt anyways. He brought his hands down, panic rising in his chest as he saw Hugo in front of him. Donella looked as mortified as he felt, dropping the knife to the ground. She looked conflicted, not sure if she should stay to check on Hugo or run while she still could. It seemed she chose the other, bolting into the woods.

Hugo dropped to his knees then, his breathing labored. Varian caught him, laying him on his lap. The cut across his chest was angry and red, blood flowing freely from it. Hugo just laughed, tears welling in his eyes as he reached up and cupped Varian’s face. “I-I told you I loved you.”

Varian didn’t know he was crying until the droplets stained Hugo’s shirt, mixing with the blood. He felt sick, he felt like his heart was being broken all over again, only this time there was no fixing it. “You don’t get to say that. Not like this.”

“It’s okay.” The tears flowed down Hugo’s cheeks, dulling the green.

“No! It’s not fair! You don’t get to fucking die! It’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair!” He was pressing his hands down on the wound, trying to stop the blood flow. It wasn’t fair, he didn’t get to pay for his mistakes this way, why did Hugo? He wasn’t going to take the easy way out. It wasn’t fair. He needed him, as much as he still hurt from his betrayal, as much as he didn’t want to, he needed Hugo.

“Promise me you’ll finish the trials? Free your mom and get your happy ending.” Hugo’s eyes were dulling and Varian was beginning to realize it wasn’t from the tears.

“No! I-I can’t do this without you. I need you, Hugo. And you’re going to spend the rest of your days making it up to me, okay? I’m going to make you so fucking miserable you’re going to wish you died today. Please, don’t leave me.” Varian pressed his forehead against Hugo’s, his cheeks feeling unusually cold now that Hugo’s hand wasn’t there.

Hugo laughed again. “I look forward to it. Hey, goggles?” Varian didn’t give a verbal answer, he couldn’t, but Hugo continued nonetheless. “You were right, the stars look pretty tonight.”

Varian laughed sadly. “You would say something like that.” He sobbed as Hugo’s breathing grew shallower. He fought when he was pulled away from him. He called his name as they dragged him away. He lashed out as Nuru tried to comfort him. He didn’t answer when Yong asked what happened. He denied help when he was offered it. Instead he sat outside the infirmary, awaiting whatever terrible news he would be told.

He looked to the sky. There were no stars tonight, only the moon and her harsh truth. There may never be stars again.

Previous Next

[doesitsparkjoytho]

"The Happy Harpy Post" - Medieval Craigslist

(**For anyone not in the U.S., Craigslist is Facebook Marketplace's janky, super sketch predecessor, basically an online site to list items for sale, jobs, "Missed Encounters," etc.**)

[For Sale / Trade]

Realm's most powerful -- and evil -- sword

Just in time for that long-awaited conquering!

The realm's most notoriously blood-thirsty sword has reappeared from the dark abyss yet again. The last band of heroes battled death to cast it into oblivion some centuries ago, but like a merciless rash, it will not stay banished.

Features:

Authentic blood stains and nicks

Possessed by an extremely evil and demeaning spirit, rumored to be that of Lord Archbane himself

Crafted from the finest dragon's bone and titanium, ensuring years of slicing, thrusting, hacking, mutilation and general intimidation

This weapon is not for the faint of heart. If the latter is not black as pitch, I assure you that the blade will drive you mad in its attempt to corrupt your soul. I stumbled upon the sword but three weeks past, but already the power of this dark artifact threatens to consume my being. However, one with the strength of spirit to master it stands to gain an instrument of unimaginable potential.

Willing to trade for guaranteed safety during new owner's reign of terror, a residence in owner's general vicinity, and a small (negotiable) re-homing fee for myself / the sword. ***And please note: the sword has attached itself to me in ways that I dare not speak of. If you try to kill me and take the sword in place of a transaction, it will be lost for many more centuries. It has assured me of this.

If interested, please find or send for innkeeper Finbar Ruild of Heshire, Eastern Province.

Free Pulsating Crystal Thing

Are you a dark being of some authority seeking an artifact of unknown power and antiquity to enhance your castle/cave/fortress/tower/dungeon's mystical atmosphere? Are you perhaps also wishing for a handful of random occurrences to shake things up, or to rid yourself of a few pesky, traitorous, or bumbling minions too curious for their own well-being? Then look no further! This strange, eerily glowing crystal pulsates as if containing life and is sure to amuse and amaze guests. In addition, this nifty crystal can easily lull one to sleep with its deep, otherworldly and ominous croonings. I guarantee you won't stumble upon another artifact of such myriad uses and features. I'm only parting with it because the lady of the keep has suggested that I have one too many "unique" trinkets.

Serious inquiries only (No minions, peasants, slaves or other lowly beings, as I dread the repercussions of this falling into the wrong hands). Please contact Lord Vasuvian at the black tower. You can send a messenger by horseback, pigeon, falcon, hawk, bat, dragon, etc. I promise its safe return.

[Services]

Haircuts for Heroes

Are you a hero? Do you want to be? Nothing says "hero" like a unique hairstyle. I offer dying, cutting, braiding, and lime-washing. Be the first to try out my new Dark and Dangerous dye, made from a fermented leech and vinegar mixture which is entirely unique and promises the darkest, longest lasting black available.

Stop announcing your triumphs and displaying your spoils to earn the trust of the town and start standing out!

My shop, Haircuts for Heroes, is located in North Ghestfel.

Live-in Mage for hire

Have you ever wanted life to be a little easier than it is? Do you ever find yourself wishing that your floor would clean itself, that your fire would stay lit through the night, or that those pesky birds would cease pecking the thatch from your roof to build their nests?

Now you can make your wishes come true! Mage with 20+ years of experience in the Way is willing to lend his talents in exchange for room and board. His only request is that you don't treat him as a servant and allow him time for his own studies between your requests.

If interested, please send word to Octulus Drolp so that we may arrange a meeting and home viewing.

[Missed Encounters]

At the smithy - M4W

You, dearest woman, had four children in tow and were berating each of them as they touched everything in the shop. I smiled at you, but you were too busy to take full notice of me. Your voice was the sweetest music to my ears. I doubt a lovely lady such as yourself with four energetic children would be without husband, but if that is indeed the case, I beseech you to come and find me!

Make inquiry for Will at the stables.

O4H

To the ruggedly handsome human who passed through the southern Fivhren woods yesterday morn:

As I emerged from my cave, sleep still crusting my eyes like fairy dust, I was struck by a most unusual but welcome sight. Upon the knoll beyond my cave, a dark-haired man (you) knelt by his steed. My orcish heart pattered- and I am not easily moved, particularly by those of diminutive form. A dark green cloak enfolded your manly form, and you seemed intent on starting a fire, perhaps to make your breakfast.

Not wishing to startle you, I went about my morning as routine demanded, beginning with my rejuvenating spritz in the creek just beyond my cave. I began to hum to catch your attention. When you spotted me, I tried to act alluring, splashing my heaving green bosom with water from the nearby creek and rubbing my face sensually. In reality, I was merely taking my morning bath and desperately attempting to remove the morning crust from round my black orbs- but I figured 'hey, why not kill two birds with one stone?'

I locked my gaze unto yours, and your visage was overcome with- dare I hope- alarmed intrigue? You quickly gathered a few of what I assumed were your belongings, leapt onto your steed and rode away. Without me.

I am sorry if my forthcomingness frightened you away. I am willing to take things slowly, if you are lacking a mate and or have any interest in lady orcs. I enjoy, I imagine, many things you humans do: fishing; rolling in the mud and baking in the sun afterward (it's good for one's skin); eating and cooking (I prepare an astounding seared pig, and my frog-eye soup is unmatched); clubbing and stoning small, pesky animals; and, last but not least, dancing.

If you ever pass my way again, don't hesitate to peek your beautiful head into my cave and holler. But you'd better holler fairly loudly, as I'm a heavy sleeper.

Sincerely yours,

Ghrus'yula

[Community Notices]

Your Daughter Is No Treasure

Dear Lady Fitz,

Please cease advertising your daughter as the most enchanting creature in the land. I had the misfortune of crossing her path in the market this Saturday past, and she was neither lovely, endearing, soft of voice, or willow-thin. In fact, I have seen female trolls more alluring. If you were to place her in a tower for one to rescue, those stupid enough to brave the perils set before them on faith of your word alone would, upon seeing her, leap to their deaths or fall on their own swords before they carried her out of there with them. I am not trying to be rude, I am merely pointing out the truth which I think you should know. If you really wish to marry your daughter off, be honest. It also might not hurt to throw in some gold.

Sincerely,

A man saving fellow men from unhappy futures

To my neighbor to the east and south, the marauding tyrant

Dear kindred conqueror:

Being a power and land hungry tyrant myself, I acknowledge that certain consequences can be expected from claiming new provinces. For example, I realize that valuable farmland will likely be laid to waste in the process, forest burned and the animals inhabiting it slain, and villagers and townspeople dispatched from their homes.

However, it is the latter which concerns me. Far be it from me to advise you on proper warmongering, but your actions have brought the consequences of war to my borders. In the towns and villages dotting our shared borders, beings fleeing your terror-inducing campaign are piling in by the hour. However, that's not the main issue here. No, what concerns me is that these humans, orcs, elves, etc. are crossing my borders and falling dead in my towns, creating an awful sight and stench which, in the end, I am left to deal with. Not only that, but my denizens are becoming worried that I might gather my army again and attempt to take the few provinces I have allowed them to keep. I have worked hard at gaining their newfound trust in the last few years following the end of my campaign, and your actions are threatening the fragile halcyon of my new kingdom.

If you would kindly see to it that more of your soon-to-be subjects did not escape your borders, or at least died within them, I would be most grateful. If you do not comply, a few thousand of my most sickly denizens may somehow find their way into your lands just when you think you've established yourself in your new domains.

Yours to the west and north,

Lord Belus III

--------------------------------

So I used to write. A LOT. Before fanfic, I was an aspiring fantasy novelist, and I wrote pretty much all the time. I'm trying to get back into it, so I've been looking at my old pieces and taking stock of what I like/don't like. This is one of my all time favorite pieces so I thought I'd share!

[tasmyn-pearce]

Clepto-faenia || Tasmyn & Morgan

Timing: This Evening Parties: @tasmyn-pearce & @mor-beck-more-problems Summary: Tasmyn convinced Morgan to steal some stuff from one of neighbors houses during mushroom season. Chaos ensues and both women leave with some treasures. 

It was often difficult for Tasmyn to convince people to go along with the various criminal enterprises that she so enjoyed. It was real easy when that other person was a spriggan. It was less difficult when the person was a fae. But non-fae? Very difficult. With the notable exception of Morgan, of course. Tasmyn was so thrilled at how quickly she had agreed to partake in some light robbery. She had invited her friend over to her house. After living in town for a few weeks, she had been noticing that a neighbor of hers from a few doors down had been letting its ugly little dog do its business in Tasmyn’s yard. So for some sweet, sweet revenge, she planned to steal a bunch of his stuff. It was the perfect target for her and Morgan, since he presumably had a toaster and she knew his wife had some very fancy jewelry. Giddy when she heard the doorbell ring, Tasmyn pranced over to the front door. She opened it wide and smiled even wider. “Morgan! Welcome to my home!”

Morgan wasn’t sure how Tasmyn had managed to get a house on Harris Island on a hostess salary, but the fae worked in mysterious ways, and most rich people had it too good anyway. She rocked on her heels at the door, trying to stay in the moment. She didn’t want to be thinking about what Deirdre was up to, if she was making the mushrooms last longer, if there was going to be more toasters in the garage, and if she should start giving up on having some kind of ‘normal’ ever again. Everything was spinning out of control and leaving her behind. Maybe if she couldn’t get a handle on anything, she could find a way to dip her toe in, see what more of the fuss was about. Theft from the richest of the rich was on a whole other level from messing with street signs and leaving milk out to spoil at the supermarket, but she trusted Tasmyn what she was doing. And, hey, if she could learn to hang with the fae in town better, that was a win all around, right?

She had almost forgotten that Tasmyn was on her own mushroom bender until she answered the door. She hadn’t met the spriggan woman before, but there was something uncanny, even unnatural in her wide smile that suggested she wasn’t this giddy all the time. “Uh, hey!” She said, as brightly as she could manage. “Took us long enough to meet, right? I uh…” She fished into her oversize bag and took out a succulent in a small pot adorned with amethyst pebbles. “Got this for you. And your house. Although, it looks like you’re not really hurting for decor. So, who’s our lucky mark tonight?”

Morgan didn’t look quite the way Tasmyn had pictured. Sure, she had seen actual pictures of the woman online, but she was quite short in person. Maybe she just had the natural confidence of a tall person. Comparing expectations to reality was one of her favorite things about meeting people from online. “Way too long! But here we are now!” Without warning, Tasmyn leaned in and engulfed her tiny new friend into a tight hug. She hadn’t heard from Ulfric in a while, and while she enjoyed the company of some of her co-workers, none of them were friends. It was nice to be with a friend, especially one who understood. As she pulled back from the hug she noticed the items that Morgan was holding. Her eyes widened with joy. “Oh my! You brought me gifts? Nonsense! I am still deep into redecorating. The previous owners had wretched taste.” She grabbed the small plant and immediately retreated to the living room to find a suitable home for it. “Oh! The Crawfords!” After rearranging the plant on the coffee table a few times, she finally found a spot she liked and turned her full attention back to Morgan. “They are so awful. Always looking at me funny. Letting their stupid ugly dog go in my yard. Apparently they were friends with the people who lived here before me and don’t like that I live here now.”

Morgan stepped falteringly into the house. Everything was a mishmash of aesthetic and color, so off and strange she couldn’t figure out which belonged to Tasmyn and which to the last owners. Knowing the place was stolen property didn’t surprise her as much as it should have, and she had to hand it to Tasmyn when it came to the location. “It’s very impressive here,” she said. “Do you ever feel lonely though, being in so much house all by yourself? Or--” She smiled sheepishly, remembering the mushrooms. “Is this not the time to talk about stuff? Should you just...show me around the place? Don’t wanna bore you or anything.”

“Sometimes. But, honestly I’ve lived mostly alone for … oh, about two decades. Ever since I ran away from my husband. Except for a few years when I lived with Isla. But, mostly alone. It’s not so bad! Tons of space to throw parties with friends. Not that I have enough friends in town to fill this house… but, maybe if I stick around long enough I will!” Tasmyn had started talking before Morgan had offered to not talk about ‘stuff’, and was rambling so quickly that she didn’t even really notice the comment. “Oh, Morgan! You could never bore me! But, yes - I can show you around if you want. We’re in the living room now, you came in through the foyer - OH! Lemme show you the kitchen. I just got the new table last week. The old one was made of glass and was so ugly. This one is made of strong wood, like you’d find in a forest. I wonder what kind of kitchen the Crawfords have. We’ll obviously see their kitchen when we take their toaster.”

Morgan followed Tasmyn around, inching closer to her as her story went on.”I remember you telling me a couple of things, that you might be in danger sometime,” she said. “Are you really okay right now? You know, when things get back to normal, you can come stay with me and Deirdre, if you ever need. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” But, right. The theft. And...the toasters. “Yeah! And, you know, maybe some nice shiny jewelry. We should get something for you too. And your house. As long as it’s something you really like.” She gave Tasmyn an encouraging smile, but it felt thin. Being easy going was turning out to be a lot harder than she’d reckoned. Maybe she was the lonely one. “Where do they live anyway?”

Tasmyn cocked her head to the side slightly. Morgan seemed genuinely curious, maybe even genuinely concerned. She wasn’t really used to that, especially given this was the first time they had ever even met in person. “I’m okay right now.” It was difficult knowing that people in town cared for her. It would make it that much harder to leave when he found her. “I don’t think he’d expect me to come to America, so that’ll probably buy me more time than usual.” Almost as casually as she had first started talking, she quickly changed to the topic at hand, thievery. “Yes! I like lockets, I don’t know if they have any. But I intend to find out!” Tasmyn went back into the living room and out one of the sliding glass doors that lead to one of her many balconies. Presuming that Morgan was following her, she pointed at one of the houses in the distance. “It’s about two streets down. The yellow one.”

“More time? More time than what? Tasmyn, you can’t spend your whole life running, that’s not fair to you--” But as quickly as the words had burst out of Morgan, she realized this wasn’t the Tasmyn to have this talk with. “Nevermind. Why don’t you tell me about why you like lockets so much?” It was strange how much the lines between fae did and didn’t blur with one another. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t know Tasmyn well enough to be able to tell the differences yet. She followed the fae through the house and out onto the balcony, which was pretty magnificent, she had to admit. “No. Way. Tasmyn are you kidding me?” A breathless laugh escaped her. “That’s the dean of the chemistry department’s house. He’s a total asshole! That’s amazing! We...have to go right now. How do we do that?”

Tasmyn was done talking about her husband, and thankful so was Morgan. “I like them because they’re more personal than random jewelry. Often engraved and with pictures inside. I don’t know if you know this about us spriggans… but we tend to fixate and steal specific things.” She was admiring the target house when she let out a soft excited gasp at Morgans statement. “Juicy!! Do you hate him? Silly, of course you must if he’s an asshole. Oh I’m so excited! Okay! Let’s head on out!” She turned on her heels and retreated back into her house and pulled out a bag from a hall closet. “I got all the tools right here! Plus snacks. He’s out of town for the weekend with his family, so the place is already totally empty. I know the neighbor who’s watching their dog and managed to make a copy of the spare key. Shit… I wrote the code down for the alarm somewhere…” As she fumbled through the bag she found and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.  “Got it!”

“Fixate? Like...how? Sorry, I don’t actually know much about spriggans. Or any specific fae species besides what Deirdre is,” Morgan said. “But I’d like to learn more.” She broke into a reluctant smile at Tasmyn’s prodding, fighting back laughs.”Hate is maybe a strong word for how little of my daily headspace he occupies but...you’re not...wrong? I mean, he’s just so pompous, overly self-assured, shallow, elitist, sexist…” It seemed like the list kept going on even as they gathered their supplies. Tasmyn seemed to have a real system going on here. “Snacks?” She echoed. “Is that traditional for robberies? I’ve never done one before.” Shoplifting, to Morgan’s mind, was different. It was more about things going out than anything going in. No one suspected you of being in the wrong place, just of your purse maybe looking different on the way out. ” She reached for the keycode paper and tucked it into her pocket. Tasmyn seemed okay, but the last  thing they needed were mushrooms making Tasmyn forgetful. “Just for safekeeping, if that’s okay,” she assured. She reached into the bag for a balaclava, twirling it around her finger. If she was gonna do this thing, she may as well go all the way.

“Spriggans like to take things! Any things, really. But many of us have a favorite thing to steal! Mine is engraved lockets. My mother liked fancy hair pins and my father liked shoelaces. We also love to cover ourselves in green tattoos! I could show you one day, but not today. We have work to do.” Tasmyn found it quite freeing to openly talk about her culture with Morgan. Mostly because she was really nice, and never seemed to openly judge her. Plus! She was so willing to go out on this robbery before she even knew they were targeting the man she hated. And boy did she have so many good reasons for hating him. “Of course snacks. Last thing you want is a hungry belly distracting you!” She zipped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder as she stood up. “Sure. Just don’t lose it.” As she flattened her shirt out, she looked up at Morgan. “Okay! Ready to go? I figure we should just go on foot since it’s not weird for me to be walking around the neighborhood and having a car in the driveway might draw too much attention.”

Morgan took one of the candy bars Tasmyn had offered out of politeness and chewed thoughtfully. Still tasted like nothing, but the blend of texture was at least a nice change-up. It was pretty generous for a lady with mushroom for brains. Morgan couldn’t help but feel endeared to her, even if this wasn’t the regular, everyday Tasmyn. She was generous, and the mischief she had her heart set on was hardly violent. “That sounds good, Taz,” she said, her brightness only a little forced. “I think an evening walk would be really great.”

The yellow house was further away than it looked. In the dark, Morgan lost track of just how long they’d been walking, just how much of the yellow siding on the cape-cod style mansion was in sight. Morgan had more questions she was itching to fill the time with, like why lockets, really? Surely there was more to it than that, right? And what did she do with them? Morgan managed to murmur, “So, you’re okay with the mushrooms and stuff? You like being this way?” As they finally neared the house, mostly because it meant the conversation could be short if she didn't like it. To call the building a house was a little grotesquely modest. It towered three stories high in grotesque rebellion against the rustic, simple style of the aesthetic. It reminded Morgan of those yellow popsicles you could get off the ice cream truck that were supposed to taste like banana but mostly tasted like sugar water. Morgan traipsed off the street and into the tall, delicately reedy grass to come up to it from the side. “So, how do you usually get into these places?”

As they walked in silence towards her neighbors house, Tasmyn’s head was racing with thoughts. They weren’t particularly liniar and largely incoherent, but that happened around mushroom season. That’s sort of why Morgan’s question caught her off guard. The question felt loaded, and she couldn’t help but think this must have something to do with Deirdre. After all, Morgan was incapable of truly enjoying the bliss of the mushrooms like her girlfriend could. “I do. It’s… well, it's a nice way to escape for a little while. My dreams are better when the mushrooms are in town. I’m not as anxious all the time. And I know, humans tend to equate it to the dumb human drugs you all have. But I’ve been around for quite some time, I know how to handle my mushrooms.” As she finished talking Tasmyn realized that they had just rounded the street and the house was now in view. There was a slight nonchalant shrug before she responded, “Well, if I don’t have the connections for keys and alarm codes, I just go old-fashioned. Pick a lock, jimmy a window, cut the power.” Tasmyn began to walk up to the house, she fumbled around in her bag and her pockets for a moment before she pulled the key out. “But, we lucked out with this one. Much easier to do with a key.”

“Around for how long?” Morgan asked, eyebrow quirked. “Or is that not polite to ask a lady?” It was strange to think of Tasmyn as being a hundred or even sixty years old. Even with what she knew of how long Banshees could live, knowing vaguely what kinds of shadows Tasmyn was running from, she didn’t seem as old as all that. She thought about the mushroom dreams, and of how she and her Mushroom girlfriend curled around each other at night in spite of all the back and forth and misunderstandings. Was she happy while she slept? Did she at least feel like she was loved then? Morgan wasn’t sure how cozy she wanted the mushroom to be in her real girlfriend’s life, or what it meant that Tasmyn seemed...almost normal, for a fae.

She followed Tasmyn to the door, impressed that she already had a key picked out and ready to go. The door opened for them as if they belonged and she stepped inside. “Geez, aren’t you impressive,” she smirked. Everything in the front rooms was shiny as a magazine, even in the dark. The outline of her shadow glistened on the polished floors. Morgan eyed the antique knick knacks, the glossy vases done up in “exotic” styles, the fancy kitchenware she’d only seen on TV. It was stupid to be jealous with all the resources she had now, but she still burned to see all of this stuff being sat on by this guy who only cared about his research and his status. “You know, I can kind of see the appeal of this…” She ghosted her finger around the curve of a copper plate. It could be hers, if she wanted. She only had to touch it, stick it in a bag. No bargains, no price, just some mild re-distribution of someone else’s wealth. Funny, it wasn’t that hard to make sense of after all. “So, where do we start?”

A small laugh escaped Tasmyn’s lips at the question. “Oh, spriggans aren’t like some fae. We live for just about as long as humans do. Theres rumors of some elder spriggans who lived to be 100, but most of us only live for about 80 years or so. I’ll be 49 this year.” Some people that she had gotten close to in her life had questioned why she never seemed to turn her back on spriggan culture despite the fact that, arguably, it is the reason for so much of her pain. The answer was simpler than most people would expect. It was the only identity she’d ever known. And growing up, when she was within the safe walls of the colony, she was happy. It wasn’t their fault that she wasn’t born with wings. She wasn’t going to let the actions of a few dictate her feelings for the many.

“Well, we start with you pulling out that alarm code you kept safe and putting that into the little box on the wall.” She instructed with a simple wave of her had towards where she had spotted the alarm system on the wall in the foyer. Her eyes danced around the house that was sprawled out in front of them. Man they could really have a field day here, huh? “Wait! First, put these on.” Tasmyn reached into the bag and tossed a pair of black gloves at Morgan, then slipped an identical pair onto her hands. “Can never be too careful. Or that’s what my dad always said.” Jewelry would be upstairs. Toasters would be in the kitchen. “Now, split up and grab whatever you like!” Tasmyn encouraged as she took off up the stairs looking for the master bedroom. People rarely took their best pieces of jewelry on vacation, which meant there had to be a jewelry box somewhere. As she rooted around upstairs, she found some really wonderful items. A ruby ring, some diamond earrings, a weird broach that looked vaguely like a bird.

After a while of grabbing random items that caught her eye, she heard the sound of a garage door opening. Was Morgan in the garage? No, that seemed unlikely. Tasmyn ran back downstairs, checking in the upstairs rooms to see if Morgan had come up there. Once she got back to the ground floor, she whisper-yelled, “Morgan?? Are you in the garage? Did you hear that noise or was it in my head?”

For some reason, Morgan hadn’t imagined that there were any fae that lived to be less than a hundred without Warden or accidental intervention. A sad pang rumbled in her stomach; even if she and Taz stayed friends, it wouldn’t be for very long, in the grand scheme of things. Then again, most of her friends wouldn’t. Whatever good moments (even strange moments) she had now were going to have to be jarred and preserved against the centuries she hoped would follow. Morgan snapped on the gloves and put in the alarm code, smiling sheepishly at her mistake. “..Sorry,” she said. But Tasmyn didn’t seem very bothered. She disappeared upstairs, smiling with glee, and left Morgan to her own devices.

Four collectible books, three toasters, two wool designer coats, and one very chic fountain pen later, Morgan was starting to feel like she could adapt to this whole thievery thing if the circumstances ever called for it. Then headlights flashed past the window. The garage door made a clicking sound, then an angry, mechanical buzz as it groaned to life.

“Shit. Taz—!” Morgan scampered to the stairs and grabbed the fae by the hand. “Definitely not your head!” She hissed. “What do we DO?”

The garage turned silent. Morgan froze where she stood. Car doors clapped open and shut. The garage door buzzed again. The family was in for the night.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…

“We need to get out of here.” She bolted for the back patio (there had to be a back patio), still clutching her fae friend. There were muffled murmurs in the garage, bickering or fighting, she couldn’t tell, either way could potentially pose a problem. Morgan wrestled with the glass door, too panicked to work out the simple lock on the first or third try, but on the fourth it ripped open with a shrill rattle.

“Honey, did you hear that?”

Morgan stumbled out to the patio. A stream of lights flashed on, strong LEDs that might as well have said INTRUDERS THIS WAY. Morgan yelped, much too loud, and fell backwards over the side of the railing.

Tasmyn could see the panic in Morgan’s eyes and it reminded her why she generally preferred to steal alone, or at least with someone experienced. Almost getting caught was normal in these types of situations. After all, that’s what part of the fun is. But she could tell that Morgan did not find this to be any fun. That made her feel bad. She wanted this to be an enjoyable experience and she had Intel that suggested the family would not be home this evening. But plans change, as they always do, which is why it is so important to be adaptable if you’re going to be a thief. And Tasmyn was very adaptable.“What do we do? We leave. Now!” Without missing a beat, she ran to the rear of the house with Morgan, looking for a back exit. Of course there was one, nearly every house on this road had a balcony. Or more than one. Given that she was the one still a bit higher mushrooms, she was surprised to see that Morgan was the less graceful of the two. Sure, the back porch lights were a bit of a surprise, but tons of things can set those off not just to cat burglar‘s fleeing the scene of a crime. Once outside, she quickly ran over to where Morgan had fallen. Grasping her shoulders with both hands, Tasmyn looked into her eyes and said, “Hey! Listen, you got to get it together okay? We’re gonna be fine. Just gotta listen to me And it will be fine. Got it?“ She didn’t really have a plan… but she was quick on her feet.

Tasmyn looked around at where they were trying to figure out what the quickest way back to her place was. Sure, they could run through the backyards of a few of her neighbors but if people noticed that would be rather suspicious. They could just quietly make their way out onto the main street, after all this was her neighborhood too. She was allowed to go on walks late at night with her friends, nobody really had to know about the stolen items in their possession. “Do you trust me?” Before even waiting for the answer, she grabbed Morgan by the arm and begin to pull her along as she made her way out to the Main Street. “ chances are they don’t even realize anything is missing this evening. That’s why you can’t take the big items, like the TV. They’ll notice that really quickly. Toaster? Won’t notice that until they try to make a bagel in the morning.“ Once out on the street she could still hear the remnants of the couples argument. They were clearly preoccupied. So the two women were able to quietly make their way back down the street towards where Tasmyn lived.

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 16- Treasure Hunters

Hmph. I was so sure I’d be able to finish yesterday, but after being stuck in a car so long I guess I was just too tired.

This one isn’t especially long, and I’m not sure if it really counts, either? I mean, treasure hunting is involved, but I mostly wanted to do something with my GG Persona AU. Then again, what, am I going to go to jail if I don’t do all the prompts perfectly?...well, maybe.

(Also this one has a smidge of Sinbed because self-indulgence. Sorry not sorry)

For a guy who wore an eyepatch, Sin had pretty good eyesight, at least when it came to scouting. The good new about that was he made for an excellent finder of treasure chests hidden at the end of dungeon hallways, and seeing how their ragtag ‘Investigation Team’ was made up entirely of schoolkids with shaky paychecks on the best of days, they appreciated any shiny trinkets they could sell off for healing items and weapon upgrades.

The biggest downside was that, though he was an excellent chest-finder, he wasn’t quite as good as noticing the shadows guarding it until it was too late.

“Dammit, it was guarded?” He hissed, recoiling as the dark sludge formed into a trio of Principality.

“And they’re decently strong ones, too! But it doesn’t look like there’s a good way to evade them, we can’t run!” Said Potemkin, balling his large hands into fists. “Should we try and call the rest of the team? I’m not sure if they’re too far away to hear, but-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Elphelt shouted, pulling out Miss Travallier to shoot her card and summon Anteros. “Just don’t let your guard down!”

They didn’t have any major tricks up their sleeve, but between Potemkin’s physical skills, Elphelt’s healing spells, Ram’s fire, and his own pool of Personas on-hand, Sin couldn’t find it in him to be especially worried.

Elphelt boosted everyone’s defense with Marakukaja before taking a step back. Potemkin lunged forward to attack head-on, and Sin summoned Perseus to fire up a Mazionga. They seemed off to a strong start, with the two victims of their attacks taking a decent chunk of their health off before they could even attack. If they kept up the quick attacks, then they had a pretty good chance to make it out unscathed, right? He was feeling confident about that.

...At least until a flurry of cards tangled around Elphelt, and she suddenly collapsed to the ground like a marionette with snipped strings.

“El?!” He shouted, falling back halfway through another lightning strike. Sin dug through his pockets for a revival bead while Perseus took a thankfully nonlethal blow. “Guys, be careful! At least one of them has an instant-kill spell!”

They still had a few beads on-hand, but as soon as he felt Elphelt stir, he heard Potemkin shout in pain and felt the vibration of him collapsing. “S-shit! El! Get up! We’re taking hits!”

“I am injured.” Ramlethal’s voice managed to carry over the other sounds of the firefight, with a definite tinge of concern to her usually-neutral tone. Nike was fast, but she still struggled to dodge the attacks of three enemies all at once, all the while with Ram trying to find a revival item for Potemkin.

The three shadows managed to get lucky with instant-kill spells remarkably often, leaving the remaining members scrambling to use whatever revival items they had while avoiding more potshots, and any hits they could actually land were quickly healed.

“Dammit! My SP is almost gone! Do we have anything for that?!” Sin barked, as Perseus fired a flimsy bolt of lightning that barely nicked one of the Principality.

“I-I think Ram just drank our last coffee…” El stammered in reply, trying to revive Potemkin yet again while only hobbling by on a handful of HP, herself. “I have enough for a few more healing spells, but we’ve only got the one bead left. Are you sure we can’t run?”

At every opportunity, they had tried, only for the shadows to intercept them. He liked being an optimist, but Sin knew that things had gone horribly downhill. When he tried to conjure more electricity, all it got him in return was a hard smack that knocked his Persona to the ground.

“Shit, brace yourselves- !”

“Did someone need assistance?”

A familiar silver-and-purple gundam skated into the room, throwing up a barrier wall to catch a couple of magic blasts.

“Finally! There you are, we’ve been looking for you!” An echoing voice came from the large machine, but its mouth didn’t move. “Good think you make such a racket.”

“Bedman! About time!” Sin felt himself grinning.

“Looks like you’re all in rough shape. Good thing I brought backup.”

The shadows were still too distracted by the new barrier to care much about the newcomers who ran into the treasure room right under their noses. Ariadne and Thalassa carried Bridget and May in their respective free arms, while Zappa ran along behind. The mechanical Persona began releasing purple smoke from its head-pipes, and a glimmering veil surrounded both it and the second half of the Investigation Team.

“Get ready for an overclock!” The echoing voice shouted. “You're buffed! May, you’re on healer duty, but just focus on knocking out those shadows!”

“Roger!” Bridget hopped off of Ariadne, and began barraging the Principality with physical attacks as soon as the barrier wall began to fragment. Zappa trailed behind with curse spells as Mania dangled over him limply. May did as instructed, throwing on a few mild healing spells, but the evasion buffs made it so it was less necessary than usual.

Following the initial difficulty, the battle swiftly shifted sides. The enemies finally burst back into piles of darkness and faded away, leaving behind nothing but a small pile of money.

“Oh, god, finally…” Sin sat on the ground and tried to catch his breath. “Nearly thought we were goners for a second.”

“Don’t run off like that next time!” May chided him. “How did you even get stuck in here in the first place, it’s a dead end!”

He pointed over his shoulder. “I saw a chest! I thought there’d be something valuable in it.”

“Well, if we cleared this room out, more shadows shouldn’t appear for a while, right?” Asked Elphelt, as she wandered toward the unattended box on a pedestal. “And since that almost got us into some hot water, it’d better be something good.”

“Yeah!” Sin managed to spring back up, following after her. “I’ve got the picks, let’s see what we got!”

Everyone else trailed behind, more than a little interested in whatever shiny trinket was so interesting that it nearly got half their team killed. Sin easily jimmied the lock open, pried the creaky lid back, and...

“Uh...looks like a cheap gemstone...and a piece of armor we already have.”

A collective groan went through the group, plus a few muffled curses and less-than-polite gestures. Sin still pocketed the small gem, but he was in the same boat as the rest of them. “Well, I guess you win some, you lose some. Let’s head back to the safe room to take a break. Bedman, think you can carry Pot? I don’t think we’ll have any luck trying it ourselves.”

The mecha nodded, scooping the unconscious man up like a sack of potatoes. “Everyone can hop on if they don’t feel like walking.”

A few took him up on the offer, and they all headed back. Maybe it was just imaginary, but the safe room felt far warmer and cozier than the rest of the dungeon. At least they knew no more shadows would be popping out to take them by surprise.

“Must be nice having a Persona you can ride in, Bedman.” Bridget said, sliding off the machine’s arm. “Ariadne can barely carry me!”

“Morpheus is remarkably comfortable on the inside, though I can admit it was frightening the first time I was dragged into him. For all I knew, he could have been trying to eat me.”

“I’ve got sandwiches!” Zappa chirped, hoisting up a makeshift lunchbox for everyone to see. “The boss lets me take the ready-made ones once they’re passed the sell-by date, but I promise they’re still good!”

“Ah, damn, that sounds perfect right now.” Sin went up to grab half of a turkey sandwich and begin munching on it.

After being revived, Potemkin found a place to sit near his much smaller leader. “I’m glad you were able to figure something out in the end. But next time, let’s be more careful. Treasure rooms are often more dangerous than one would expect.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Replied Sin, between bites of sandwich. “How’s Kratos?”

“Perfectly fine, I just don’t summon him unless I need him.” Potemkin reached across the table to pull out an egg sandwich, which looked positively miniscule in his large hands. “I’m not sure why you leave yours out so much when we aren’t in battle.”

Sin tilted his head. “Huh? What do you mean? He isn’t out now.”

The man gave him an odd look back. “What do you mean? He’s up there.”

When he looked up to where Potemkin was pointing, Sin was surprised to see that he was right. Perseus hadn’t dissipated, instead he sat on Morpheus’s shoulder, apparently perfectly comfortable where he was. He’d never realized how large Morpheus was, especially odd considering the respective sizes of their owners, but there was plenty of space for his Persona to sit and relax on his teammate.

“Huh?” The girls seemed to notice his staring. “What’s Perseus doing…?”

“I dunno, El. I didn’t make him do that.” He shrugged back. “Why does it even matter?”

“Hmm…” Despite herself, Elphelt had to side-eye the rather affectionate way Perseus cuddled up on his teammate, wrapping an arm around one of his pipe-horns. Hey, weren’t Personas supposed to be a manifestation of their owners...? “Hey, Sin, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Do you...have a crush on anyone?”

Sin balked. “The heck? What does that have to do with anything? What made you ask?”

Behind him, Perseus’ gloved hand stroked Morpheus’ sleek metal head, before he went back to cuddling his horn.

Elphelt glanced away, resisting the urge to blush. “No reason. Just wondering.”

[jade4813]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves, Chapter 8

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Rating: PG (I’m assuming it’ll stay there?)

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Max would do anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last “big moment” to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it’s only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?

Chapter: 8/?

Author’s Notes: Takes place after Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Zoey rarely awoke with the kind of unbridled optimism that made her feel like the world had her back and everything was going to go her way. Actually, she pretty much never woke up with that feeling. But when she opened her eyes the next morning, she bounced out of bed with a smile on her face that even awareness of the early hour couldn’t diminish. As she waited for her coffee to finish brewing, she poked a nose out her window and saw that the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it promised to be a beautiful day. A perfect day, in fact.

The perfect day to tell Max how she felt about him.

Maybe they could even call off sick afterwards and spend the rest of this beautiful day in bed. With no pillows or blankets between them this time.

A shiver of anticipation shot down her spine, and she was tempted to start singing again. It took a force of effort, but she refrained, knowing that would only attract Mo’s attention. As much as she loved her friend and treasured his advice, she was eager to get to work and see Max. Her Max. Could she call him that now? She certainly thought about him that way. To see her Max and tell him how much she loved him and that she wasn’t scared anymore.

She got an idea, so after she flipped down the lever to start toasting her breakfast, she grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down a quick note for Mo. As soon as the bread popped up again, she grabbed her rather uninspiring breakfast of dry toast and hot coffee and raced out the door. After trying to figure out how she felt about Max for months, it seemed she now couldn’t wait another minute to see him.

Stepping into the hall, she paused long enough to slip the note under Mo’s door. “Next time I see you, I will have earned that bacon!”

With that task done, and feeling incredibly pleased with herself, she hopped up on her toes and raced out the door. It was going to a beautiful, perfect day. Impatient even for the few minutes it would take to see him to pass, she pulled out her phone and reread their text exchange from the night before. In her euphoric, romantic haze, it didn’t occur to her now any more than it had to her then, how uncharacteristically brief and abrupt he’d been in his responses.

“Leif said you weren’t feeling well. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“This isn’t because I stole your side of the bed last night, is it?” she’d joked, ending the question with a grinning emoji.

“No, of course not.”

“Well, I hope you feel better! If you’re feeling up to it, my mom wanted to have a movie night tomorrow. You want to come? I should warn you, there’s a 50/50 chance it ends in a game of charades or something.” It was a family tradition they usually didn’t inflict upon friends and other guests, but they’d long since invited – or, some might say, coerced – Max into joining in. Zoey shook her head, wondering how she hadn’t caught on to the significance of that sooner. “When I talked to David earlier, he mentioned Emily, a rematch, and something about a blood debt.” Unsurprising to everyone, Emily did not take a defeat lying down, and Zoey and Max had always been a formidable team.

She watched the three ellipses flash at the bottom of the screen for a few moments, and then his response came through. “No problem. I’ll be there.”

Worried she was pushing him when he wasn’t feeling well, she texted, “You sure you’re okay? I could bring you some chicken noodle soup if you’re sick.”

A full minute passed before she received his response. “No, I’ll be okay. Just need to lie down.”

“All right, well…I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Feel better!”

“See you.”

Smiling at their brief exchange, ignorant about what was to follow, Zoey slipped her phone into her pocket and picked up her pace. It wouldn’t be long before she saw Max, she hoped. And then… well, and then, everything was going to be all right.

When she walked into SPRQ Point offices a few minutes later, however, her joy morphed to confusion. Max was dressed in a suit, standing by the windows and staring out at the beautiful blue sky. Whether because he heard the ding of the elevator or by coincidence, she couldn’t be sure, but he turned when she walked into the room. Without moving from his spot, his bowed head failing to entirely obscure his expression of sorrow and loss, he began to sing his heart song.

“I know I can’t take one more step towards you, ‘cause all that’s waiting is regret. Don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore. You lost the love I loved the most. I learned to live, half alive. And now you want me one more time.”

Zoey stumbled to a halt, looking at him in confusion. She’d had her superpower for long enough to no longer be surprised at hearing one of his heart songs, but she hadn’t expected to hear this one. After everything that happened between them, after the heart song he’d sung her the morning before, why was he singing to her now of loss and heartache?

He continued, turning back to the window and resting his weight against one arm as he stared out at the city. “Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ‘round leaving scars. Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart. You’re gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don’t come back for me. Who do you think you are?”

“Max?” she asked, taking another step forward.

As always during a heart song, he acted like he hadn’t heard her question as he pivoted on one foot, walking over to his desk. He began to dump items into a large cardboard box as he sang, “It took so long just to feel alright, remember how to put back the light in my eyes. I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed. ‘Cause you broke all your promises. And now you’re back. You don’t get to get me back.”

Desperate to understand what was happening, Zoey raced to his side, reaching out to put one hand on his arm. “Who do you think you are? Runnin’ ‘round leaving scars. Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart. You’re gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don’t come back for me. Who do you think you are?”

His song trailed off, and Zoey asked softly, her voice uncertain, “Max? What’s – what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Her heart ached from his song, but she still didn’t understand the meaning of it.

“Hey, Zoey!” he said, ignorant of what she had just heard, and though he sounded cheerful, his expression was reserved. “Everything’s great!” He hesitated, giving some item he’d pulled from the bottom of his desk drawer a dubious look before throwing it in the trash. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually. I was offered a promotion a couple of days ago, so I’ll be moving up to the sixth floor!”

Zoey felt like she was drowning, gasping for air. She couldn’t understand how Max could act like everything was fine. Like it was downright normal. First that song, and now he was leaving? Leaving their offices? Leaving her? Of course, he was moving two floors, not taking a rocket to the moon. But after the sorrow in his song, it felt like he was putting more than two floors between them. It felt like she was losing him completely.

Although she recognized that she should be happy for Max for his promotion, which sounded like an amazing opportunity he totally deserved, she was still reeling from his song. She had to admit that she was also a little hurt. He’d been offered a promotion and he hadn’t told her about it? They were supposed to be dating! Well…fake-dating. What was going on?

In a shaky voice, she said brightly, “Wow! That’s…amazing, Max! And very well-deserved. I’m – I’m very happy for you.”

He knew her well enough that she expected him to call her on the fact that her professed enthusiasm was belied by the fact she sounded like she wanted to cry, but he didn’t. “Thanks!”

She wanted to cry, and she couldn’t hold back her confusion any longer. “Look, can we talk for a second? In private?”

Max glanced around the nearly-empty office and then shrugged. “Sure. I need to catch Joan when she comes in, but I have a few minutes.”

Desperately needing answers, she led him to the empty hallway leading between the meditation room and the restrooms before realizing she didn’t know what to say. His heart song was the last thing she expected to hear this morning, as was the revelation he was leaving. It had barely begun to sink in; she certainly hadn’t had the time to get her thoughts in order enough to ask him relevant questions. Should she even tell him about the heart song she’d just heard? She probably should, but she didn’t know how.

In silence, she rocked back and forth from one foot to the other, trying to find the words. Finally, when she watched him glance towards the exit for the third time, she blurted, “Max, I really am happy for you. I swear. But I guess I’m just a little…confused. I thought…well, I mean, I-I don’t really understand why you didn’t tell me about this sooner.”

His fake smile didn’t so much as falter. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I probably should have told you about it, but, you know how things get around here. I guess I just got wrapped up in work and it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your – Max, what’s going on?” Not receiving an answer right away, she admitted, “I heard you sing out there. A heart song. It was…you sounded so heartbroken. Talk to me.”

His smile fell, and he looked at a spot over her left shoulder as he stepped away from her, saying in a hollow voice, “I don’t know what you mean.”

A tiny sob escaped before she could bite it back, and Zoey pushed her hair off of her face with hands that shook with the agonized grief she was trying not to show. In the back of her mind, she suspected she knew what had happened, but she couldn’t believe it – didn’t want to believe it – so she pushed that thought away. Her breath tight in her chest, she couldn’t bear to look into his face and see him look at her in a way he never had before. He looked at her like she was a stranger, his eyes cold, his expression distant. Like he was looking through her, rather than at her.  “Max…please. I-I don’t understand. I-I just…” Stumbling towards him, she pressed her hands against his chest. “Please. Talk to me. I can fix this. Tell me how to fix this.”

For a few, precious moments, his mask slipped. His eyes were soft and yearning, and she almost flinched at the pain on his face. “Zoey, I don’t – I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“But you are! You are hurting me! Just…I know the two of us can fix this. I know it. Please…don’t…tell me what I can do. Don’t give up on me.” Earlier that morning, she’d been so excited, so eager to tell him she wanted their relationship to be real. In the last ten minutes, she felt like she’d lost everything. She had run from him so long, letting the specter of fear hold her back from even giving him a chance. She’d been terrified she would lose him one day, but having him look at her now like he didn’t even know her brought a pain that was worse than she ever could have imagined. In one last, hopeless gamble, she begged, “We’re supposed to be friends. Aren’t we?”

“We are friends,” he breathed softly. “That’s what I’m trying to be. Your friend.” With that cryptic comment, he raised one hand to brush away a tear as it slid down her cheek, but then he paused. His hand hovered mere inches from her face before he let it fall without touching her.

“Then why aren’t you talking to me? I know it’s not real, but we’re supposed to be in a relationship. People in relationships – even fake relationships – tell each other things, don’t they?”

It seemed to be the exact wrong thing to say, as she felt the muscles under her palms stiffen, and though he was no longer smiling, that cold, detached look returned to his face. She’d never realized before how much love was in Max’s eyes when he looked at her, until now that he’d hidden it away. She might as well have been staring at a stranger, and she flinched, pulling her hands off his chest.

He looked down at his chest, where she’d been touching him moments before, and said softly, “That’s the thing though, isn’t it, Zoey? It wasn’t real. None of it was.”

Through her tears, Zoey watched Max start to leave, and she stumbled after him. She couldn’t let this be the end. “Wait! I know I’ve hurt you, but I came here today…I wanted to tell you that I love you, and I’m not scared anymore. I want to be with you.” He stumbled to a halt, his shoulders stiff, as though he was struggling to hold himself together. But he didn’t turn around. “You told me that if I meant it in the morning, you’d believe me, right? Well…I know it’s a little late, but I mean it. I love you, and I want to be with you.”

With none of the fluid grace that usually accompanied his movements, Max turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder. She expected anger, but there was a combination of agony and despair in his voice when he replied, “Well, then, I guess I need to apologize for being a liar. Because, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.” She gasped, a ragged intake of air, as he stormed through the glass doors enclosing the hall, the hinges making a loud crack as they flew open.

By the time she’d regained her composure and returned to the office, Max and his things were gone.

There was part of Zoey that wondered if she’d never see him again, so she was surprised when, at the end of a long and miserable day, Max walked off the elevator and headed towards her desk. His coat tossed over his arm, he asked, “Hey, are you ready?”

“Ready?” she asked, her eyes itchy and burning from all the tears she’d forced back over the course of the day. “Ready for what?”

“Oh, I thought…that thing with your parents. I thought that was tonight. Did I get the day wrong?” Frowning slightly, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, pulling up his texts.

Rising to her feet, Zoey shook her head. “No, you got it right. I just didn’t think you’d want to do this anymore. All things considered.”

That remote mask she hated so much was firmly in place as he replied, “I made a promise, and this is for Mitch, right? I’m up for it if you are. If you still think it’ll make him happy.”

She wanted to scream at him, pound against his chest, anything to get a real reaction out of him. Tell him that of course she didn’t want to do this anymore, not when he was ripping out her heart with every detached, impersonal look he gave her. But she also longed to be close to him, wanting to grab him by the arms and force him to listen to her. To believe her. To act like he loved her again.

“Zoey? Do you want me to go?” he asked softly, almost sounding like himself again as she stared morosely at her desk in silence and tried to decide what to do.

Those six little words, “do you want me to go,” made her feel like her heart was physically ripping in two, and that was enough to make the decision for her. Even if it hurt to be near him, being without him would hurt even more. If he could carry on with his charade, so could she. And maybe, in the meantime, she could find a way to get through to him again. “No,” she said abruptly. “I don’t want you to go.”

It was strange to realize that it was the little things from Max that she missed the most, Zoey marveled as she took his hand and gave it a tug, silently asking him for a kiss. She didn’t know what compelled her to do it. Was she testing him, or just torturing herself? Either way, he dutifully leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a perfunctory embrace before walking with her to the elevator.

From the outside, they probably looked like everything was as it had been the day before, but Zoey could feel the difference – in his dispassionate kiss, and the way his hand lay still in her own. She’d never realized before how often the feeling of Max’s hand in hers had felt like a small caress, his fingers tightening around her own, his thumb brushing softly and comfortingly along hers. Now, holding his hand was just another reminder that, even though he was right next to her, his heart was a million miles away, locked up tight somewhere she could no longer reach. Even when he spoke to her, it was to talk about the weather, the rush hour traffic – absolutely everything except anything that actually mattered.

She didn’t know what compelled her to do it, as they headed towards her parents’ house. Maybe it was out of a need to feel some passion from him again, even if it was anger. Just to remember what it had been like when she’d had Max in her life, and not this automaton that wore a face she’d come to love so much. Whatever her motives, she blurted, “Max, we should talk. About the kiss.”

For the first time that evening, that got a reaction out of him. His fingers pressed against hers, less a squeeze than a quick spasm. “I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“We have to,” she pressed. “We can’t just leave things – us – like this.”

His face was averted from her, but she heard his heavy sigh. “All right. Which kiss do you want to talk about? The one outside of SPRQ Point, or the one in Simon’s office? Because I kind of feel like they speak for themselves, don’t you?”

There was a certain measure of relief in knowing that her suspicion was right, and he’d somehow seen the ill-conceived embrace in Simon’s office. At least she had an answer for his coldness, even if it was the absolute last one she wanted. “Max, that kiss…it wasn’t what you think!”

He feigned surprise. “It wasn’t? Was he choking on something and you were trying to dislodge it with your tongue? Because that’s not how I learned the Heimlich Maneuver.”

“Stop it,” she snapped, yanking her hand from his. “You’re doing it again. Don’t make jokes about this. This is serious -”

Whatever control he’d had on his emotions all day, allowing him to present his impersonal mask to her, it slipped as he lurched to a stop, spinning to face her. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not taking this seriously? Zoey, I don’t know what you expect from me, but I just can’t do this anymore! I can’t keep putting myself out there time and time again, only to…do you have any idea how it felt for me, seeing that?”

“Max, listen. I know how it looked. I do. But it really wasn’t – it didn’t mean anything! It was just -”

His head jerked as he swallowed heavily. “Well, I wish it did. Because if my heart was going to be broken, I would have preferred it actually meant something.”

Frustrated with him and angry at herself for having brought them to this, she felt her hands form fists at her sides. “I know you’re angry with me, but you know that’s not what I meant,” she snapped.

Like a puncture in a balloon, she watched as the air left his body, seemingly taking his will to fight along with it. His shoulders sagged, and his head bowed as though he carried the weight of the world. Defeated, he said softly, “You’re wrong. I’m not mad at you, Zoey. Not really. I’m mad at me. You were honest with me from the beginning. You told me none of this meant anything. And I knew it; I reminded myself of it, time and time again. But, even still, I stupidly let myself believe it did. I let myself believe…I don’t know. That you loved me. Or maybe that there was a chance one day you even could.”

She breathed his name, hopelessly trying to find a way to make him listen. Knowing he was about to leave. But then, just when she expected him to turn and walk away, he did what she’d so recently come to realize that he always did. He pushed his own pain aside and tried to offer her comfort. Instead of walking away, he moved closer to her, cupping his face in his and leaning down to press his forehead against her own. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” She didn’t even realize she was until she felt him brush his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “I don’t what to hurt you. I just don’t know how to do…this. I don’t know how to stop loving you, and I don’t know how to kill that part of me that wishes…” His voice trailed off, the rest too painful to say.

“But I do love you,” she admitted miserably, reaching up to press a hand against his cheek. “I wanted to tell you this morning. I realized it yesterday. I don’t know what took me so long, but you have to believe me.”

She could tell that he didn’t in the way he avoided responding, turning his head to press a kiss against her palm as he pulled away. “It’s all right,” he reassured her. “Don’t feel guilty. It’ll be all right.”

She shivered at the press of his lips against her skin, but he seemed to misunderstand the response, as he grabbed the coat he still carried over his arm and slung it over her shoulders. Glancing towards her parents’ house, he murmured, “What do you want me to do, Zoey? If you want me to go in there with you, I will, but if you want me to go, I’ll go. Whatever you want, just tell me and I’ll do it.”

[cyclone-sally-art]

Molly's Awakening: Persona AU

If there was one thing Molly appreciated about the Metaverse, it was the way that it took her mind off normal worries. She wasn’t focused on the night shift she’d have to pick up later, or her grades steadily dropping as more time was eaten up by work, or the unfinished return statements that the IRS kept hounding “Martin” about.

Instead, she was trying to keep out of the way as a giant spider leg crashed down into the floor where she’d been standing a moment before. The Shadow shrieked, making Molly’s ears ache, and lunged towards Giovanni, only to be knocked back by the Soul Slugger bat. “Take that, ya ugly bug!” he jeered, only to yelp as her pincer flung him into the opposite wall.

“Boss!” Molly and the other Blaster- Flamethrower, if the bright red hair is any indication- rushed to his side, but Boss was already back on his feet. “Boss, are you okay?”

Giovanni just gave a pained laugh. “Yep! Let’s see if we can return the favor!”

Flamethrower nodded, rushing forward. He gripped his baton and twirled it, rapidly growing it into a full quarterstaff. With a dodge and a well-time leap, he managed to sweep the Shadow off her legs, throwing her back, and the three Blasters rushed forward.

“Now, my faithful minions! Let’s end this once and for all!” On Boss’s cue, the three rushed into an All-Out Attack. Molly let her mind fade to red as she dealt blow after blow, strike after strike, until the shadow burst into sprays of phantom blood and disintegrated, dropping items and some money.

Molly quickly gathered up the items as Boss and Flamethrower healed up- since they wouldn’t let her fight, she was in charge of all the non-combat roles. She’d be offended, but… it was nice to be babied once in a while.

“Oi, Beartrap!” Boss’s voice cut through her reflection as he tossed a grin to her, bat slung over his shoulder. “C'mon- we still have to find this Shadow guy and steal his heart!”

“Coming!” The makeshift disguise Giovanni had made for her helped to keep her warm as they ventured deeper into Mementos, her breath fogging up into clouds of steam.

Flamethrower shivered, leaning into Giovanni. “Brr! Whoever this shadow is, they really should take a vacation somewhere warm when we’re done with them.”

Boss pulled a thickly-knit scarf from his satchel and wound it around Flamethrower’s neck. “Once we’re done here, I’m cooking you two and the rest of my boys a big pot of chicken noodle soup. Does that sound good?”

Molly nodded, taking a cautious step into the room. Her nostrils flared at the familiar scent of cinnamon sugar, and she glanced around for a moment, searching for the source.

There! Off in the shadows sat a giant man, hunched over something in his hands. She nudged Boss. “Look! We’ve got our target.”

Boss grinned. “Good job, Beartrap! I ought to give you a promotion.” He hefted his Soul Slugger bat. “HEY!”

The giant raised his head, and Molly’s heart plunged. The face, though bloated and distorted by the nature of the Metaverse, was undeniably that of her father.

“Dad?”

The word slipped out before she could think otherwise. The distorted version of her father tilted his head, getting to his feet. “Heya, kiddo! You playing with your friends?”

Boss threw his arm out in front of her protectively. “Don’t listen to him, Beartrap. His Shadow has no filter.”

So it’s like normal. Instead, Molly stepped forward. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, swinging his arms out. In each hand he held a doll- one shaped like Molly, the other like her sister. “Oh, I’m just having some fun! If I make the toys, I might as well have some fun playing with them.”

Molly felt bile on the back of her tongue. “Is that why you’re never around?” she growled, tears springing to her eyes. Flamethrower took her hand gently, giving it a squeeze, while Boss had a hand on her shoulder protectively.

“Well shoot, I need a break from parenting all the time.” Her father’s shadow gave a smile. “You and Lorelai can be so inconvenient sometimes.”

“… inconvenient?” The word pierced Molly’s heart like a knife. She felt her throat tighten. “Is that all I am to you?”

“Well, I mean, a man needs to have his own life. You know how it is!” He pointed to Boss.

Giovanni snarled, hefting his bat. “I’m about to smash your skull into next week for making Beartrap cry!” He stepped inbetween Molly and her father’s Shadow, edges of his silhouette burning with hot-red flames. “She’s a better boy than you’ll ever be!”

“Aw, come on!” Her father’s Shadow stepped forward, crossing his arms defensively. “It’s not my fault that they get in the way.”

Molly sobbed, curling into herself. She’d suspected- she’d thought for so long, worried and fretted, that maybe her father really didn’t care about her and Lorelai. But having that confirmed- something in Molly broke at that.

Why do you sit and let them walk all over you? a voice asked. Flamethrower and Boss were engaging her father in battle, but Molly could only hear the soft rasp of a girl’s voice, not much older than her. You allow yourself less than you deserve. You claim compromise and yet you are pushed to the wayside. And all the while, you are taken advantage of by those closest to you.

They were the same things Giovanni had told her the first night they’d met, when she first joined his group of thieves. That she needed to stand up for herself- that she mattered. That was part of why he’d called her Beartrap- so that no one could walk over her anymore.

Let us forge a contract, little one.

“Yes,” she muttered, getting back to her feet. The feeling of a mask- a real mask, instead of the domino one lent to her by Giovanni, soft and fuzzy.

I am Thou. Thou art I!

With a furious scream, Molly ripped the mask from her face. Hot blood ran down her cheeks as a warrior emerged from her face, covered head-to-toe in golden armor with jagged bear claws. The bear-woman roared, drawing the attention of the other two thieves and the Shadow they were fighting.

“Take charge of your destiny!” the persona snarled, ready to rip and rend and tear.

Molly and the persona spoke in tandem. “We will NOT sacrifice our desires for the gain of others!”

Molly and her persona raced forward. The massive woman raked her clawed fingers down her father’s arm, ripping a good chunk of flesh from his shoulder. Molly’s throat was raw from screaming, but she’d never felt more alive. “Pummel him, Goldilocks!”

The woman let out a battle cry as she beat the Shadow into the floor, her father unable to even return a single blow or defend himself from the ferocity of the attack. She only stopped once her father’s Shadow stopped moving, instead whimpering in a bloody mess on the floor. The persona retreated to Molly, taking her hand gently. “Never forget our wrath, little bear.” With those parting words, her Persona reformed as the fuzzy mask on her face.

“Wow,” said a slightly-fearful voice behind her. Molly turned to a stunned Boss and a cowering Flamethrower. “Remind me never to make you mad.”

Molly sighed, holding up her hands. “I don’t know what came over me, I just-” She trailed off. Her hands trembled wildly, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care, still high on the thrill of adrenaline and the rush of battle.

Boss chuckled, ruffling her hair gently. “Damn, Beartrap. Good to see you fight back.” He stepped forward towards the shaken form of Molly’s father’s Shadow. “So, old man. Let’s have a chat.”

The shadow breathed heavily, looking at Molly with- was that sadness? “Molly-” He reached a large hand out cautiously, stopping as Molly flinched away. “God, what have I done?”

“Ya fucked up is what you did.” Flamethrower handed a healing item to Molly.

Her father gave a choked sob. “You can say that again.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself. “After your mom died, it all just seemed to weigh on me. Kept trying to drown out the pain, to run away from it all- and all I did what hurt you and Lorelai even more.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a worn photo. “Here- my treasure. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

Molly took the photo gently. It was an old one, from when Molly was barely two, her family happy and united. “Dad…”

“I don’t know if I can ever make up for… this.” Her father chuckled sadly as the walls began to shake. “But if there’s even a chance of it- I’ll try. I’ll do what it takes. I promise.”

“Beartrap, we gotta go!” Boss took her hand, but Molly shrugged out to hug her father’s shadow one last time. Then, she turned and ran as the ceiling began to break apart and collapse.

Flamethrower was the last out, seconds before the entrance to that part of the Metaverse crumbled into dust. The group heaved, trying to catch their breath. Boss was the first to speak. “Well. I owe Kid Doctor five dollars.”

Flamethrower gave an out-of-breath laugh. “Really? Nothing about that awesome persona? What’d you call that again, Beartrap?”

“Goldilocks. Like, from the fairy tale?” Molly looked at her outfit- it resembled her everyday outfit mostly, with some elements of the Banzai Blasters thrown in. Her boots were the most defining feature- her feet were shaped like bear paws.

Boss scooped her up in his arms, carrying her like a kitten. “C'mon, Beartrap. You awakened your persona! This calls for ice cream!”