#just panel lining and as good of nub removal as i could do

[pastelraccoons]

I've been a bit nervous about sharing my gunpla here, but I've finally pulled together some courage for at least this.

I'm still pretty proud of how my Calibarn came out. It's the second most recent kit I've completed, so there's that as well.

[purrincess-chat]

A Hero’s Promise (Lucky Charm Zine)

This summer I was asked to pinch-hit for the @luckycharmzine and it was so much fun! Thank you to the mods for all of your hard work, and for letting me be apart of this experience! The theme was reveals, and seeing as they asked me in the middle of Ladrien June, ya girl just had to write some Ladrien (with a lil bit of Adrinette too because yall know me:P) Be sure you support the whole zine because it’s full of wonderfully talented people who created so much amazing content!

Summary:  When Marinette finds herself in a dire situation with Adrien, she has no choice but to transform and save them both. Will Adrien keep her secret, or will Marinette's identity be revealed for good?

Read on AO3

“Okay, girl, no chickening out this time,” Alya said.

The class had taken a field trip that afternoon, and as was customary any time the opportunity presented itself, Alya and Marinette had a plan to get closer to Adrien. It was a simple plan really, one that even Marinette couldn’t mess up. All she had to do was stand beside him on the tour and talk. Easy.

“What if I mix up my words again?” Marinette whispered as they trailed several paces behind Adrien and Nino.

“Just keep going. Adrien has heard you stammer a million times by now. Take deep breaths. I’m gonna distract Nino.” Alya patted Marinette’s cheeks before striding over to link her arm through her boyfriend’s. 

“Adrien, do you mind if I steal Nino for a while?” She asked, batting her eyelashes, and Marinette wished she had a fraction of her confidence.

“Not at all, Alya,” Adrien said, and Marinette saw her opening. 

She could do this. The field trip was only a couple hours, and if she played her cards right, he’d fall in love with her then one day they’d get married, have three kids and a hamster named-

“Adrikins!” Chloe cooed, shoving Marinette out of the way and latching onto his arm. “Look at my new manicure!”

“Uh, that’s great, Chlo,” he said, sounding every bit as unenthused as he looked. 

Marinette glanced at Alya who motioned for her to step in, but at her panicked expression, Alya slapped a palm to her forehead. She’d messed up and chickened out again. Maybe she should give up on love and move to the countryside and become a beekeeper. She could totally be a beekeeper. 

“Hey, Chloe, I think I saw Sabrina refilling your water bottle from the tap,” Alya called, and Chloe stopped in her tracks.

“She what?” Chloe gasped. “If she thinks I’m going to drink tap water, she has got another thing coming. Sabrina!”

As Chloe stormed off, Alya nodded toward Adrien, and Marinette took a deep breath. She could do this. It was only two hours and the rest of their lives. All she needed to do was just talk-

A loud crash sounded several floors above them, shaking the building, and Marinette braced herself as the windows shattered. As people ran screaming, Mlle. Bustier barked orders from the front of the line, urging students to safety. 

Marinette threw her head back with a sigh. Did Hawkmoth need to pick right now to create an akuma? Did he have a radar that went off every time she was about to make headway with Adrien? Nevertheless, duty called. 

Using the chaos as cover, she slipped away from the group and ran the other way toward the stairwell, but as it turned out, the stairs weren’t as private as she originally thought. Throwing open the door, she crashed into another person, toppling them both to the floor, and as she sat up, she found herself staring into two green eyes wincing under a mop of blond hair. 

“A-Adrien!” She jerked back several feet. “I’m so sorry! I was just, uh, trying to run away from the akuma, and-”

“It’s fine. You okay?” He asked, offering a hand to help her up. Always the gentleman even if she did completely knock him over and ram her head into his chin. 

“Yeah, you?” She asked, and he rubbed his jaw with a shrug.

“I’ve had worse,” he said. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Uh, right. We should,” Marinette said, sparing a glance at her purse. 

They jumped at the loud crash in the hall, but both stood frozen on the platform. Marinette needed to get away and transform, but she didn’t have a viable excuse to ditch Adrien. Luckily for her, he took the lead, tugging her down to the next level.

“We can hide out until the akuma passes then make our escape,” he said, ducking into the door one flight below. 

“Uh, right,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her lack of enthusiasm. 

She glanced around the room, searching the rows of cubicles for any means of escape. Never in her life did she think she’d be desperate to get away from Adrien, but now wasn’t the time for snuggling. Paris needed Ladybug, so her love life would have to wait. 

Large windows spanned the far side of the room. Several had shattered from whatever attack the akuma launched, and hanging just on the other side was their ticket out of there. 

“Look!” She tugged his sleeve. “A window washer’s scaffold. We can get down with that.”

“Whoa, good thinking, Marinette,” he said, rushing over and clearing away broken shards with his foot. 

He climbed in first then offered her a hand, and she tried not to think about how much hand-holding this excursion had come with. She hit the button on the control panel, breath hitching as it started to lower. Freedom was only a few minutes away, that is, until a desk flew through a window and sliced the wires. 

Adrien pulled her close as they dropped six stories before the scaffold jerked to a stop, and they flung apart, scrambling to right themselves as it swung. They were still ten stories up, but from the looks of the wires, they weren’t going to be for much longer. 

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked, attempting to reach for her, but the scaffold shook and rocked.

“Don’t move!” She gasped, shifting her weight to counteract his. “We need to figure out a way down.”

“Maybe we should just wait for Ladybug,” Adrien suggested, and she glanced down at her purse with a wince.

“I don’t think we’ve got time,” she said, nodding at the fraying wire. 

“What are we going to do?” He asked.

Marinette surveyed their surroundings, searching for anything to add time or get them out safely, but their options were slim. Any sudden movement would likely send them plummeting to the ground, and even if they did nothing, it wasn’t long before the scaffold gave out under their weight. There was only one way out, and she didn’t have another choice.

The scaffold groaned, and Marinette lunged at Adrien as the wire snapped, wrapping her arms around his waist as her suit materialized. Her yoyo hooked around a beam as the scaffold crashed to the ground. When she glanced back at Adrien, his eyes were wide which was only natural seeing as she’d inadvertently told him the most important secret in the world. 

“You’re-”

“I know,” she said, lowering them to safety. “And you can’t tell anyone.”

“No, yeah, sure, but you’re really her?” He looked her up and down with awe. 

“Uh, yeah,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No one should know who I really am, but we didn’t have another choice. I’m trusting you, Adrien.”

His gaze found hers, a soft smile curling on his lips. “I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me. Promise.”

Her cheeks warmed, but there was no time for flirting. She palmed her yoyo, taking a few steps back. “Find somewhere safe to hide, okay?”

“Ladybug, wait!” He called as she tossed her yoyo up the street, and she turned over her shoulder. “Uh, I- come by my house later.”

“Okay,” she said, and when he nodded her on, she tugged the slack and shot off. 

Chat Noir arrived on the scene the same time she did, and she hoped that her expression didn’t betray her guilt. There wasn’t another option. It was a fact she repeated to herself that day as they captured the akuma. As the city returned to normal. As she and Adrien exchanged curt nods on the bus, her secret passing unspoken between them.

She wasn’t sure how to feel knowing that someone knew her identity now, or that this particular someone knew her identity. Of course it was dangerous and wrong, and it never should have happened, but she did her best to see the positives. She finally had someone other than Tikki to tell about her double life. Even better that someone was the boy she was in love with which gave her more excuses to talk to him, and being a superhero didn’t exactly hurt her chances at impressing him either. A little late-night tour of the city from the rooftops and-

What was she thinking? This was bad! Adrien knew her identity. Should she go into hiding? Stop being Ladybug? Maybe she could make Chat Noir the new guardian and lose all of her memories. But what if the new Ladybug failed, and she had no memories to help stop Hawkmoth then it would be all her fault for exposing herself, and Paris would be doomed and-

“You okay, girl?” Alya snapped her out of a downward spiral, and she removed her nubs of fingernails from her mouth.

“Uh, yeah, just thinking about how I messed up with Adrien earlier,” she said, plastering on a smile.

“Aww, don’t worry. You’ll get him next time,” Alya said, draping an arm over her shoulder, and Marinette let out a breath. 

“Yeah…”

***

Adrien’s window was open when she arrived later that night, her stomach churning as she hesitantly lowered into view. He paced the length of his couch, looking up when she appeared. Their eyes locked, both staring until Ladybug gestured to the floor.

“Can I come in?” She asked, and he nodded, moving around the couch to meet her. 

Silence stretched between them, and Ladybug drummed her fingers on her yoyo, heart threatening to beat out of her chest as Adrien ran a hand over the back of his neck. What exactly did one say in this situation? Should she play it cool? Crack a joke? Beg him not to tell anyone? There wasn’t exactly a training course on what to do if you expose your secret identity. 

“Um,” he finally managed, and her eyes flicked up to his. “Thank you for saving me earlier.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” she said. “I mean, after all, it is my job.”

“Right, of course.” Adrien nodded, and the silence resumed. They both shifted, the tension between them stretching until the pressure snapped like a rubber band. Words spilled out like rapids, one stream overlapping the other.

“Listen, I know that we can’t undo what happened, and I know that you won’t tell anyone because you’re so trustworthy and cute-- wait did I say that out loud?” Ladybug said as Adrien rambled just as awkwardly.

“I’m really sorry that you had to tell me your identity like that, and I promise not to tell anyone. I’d never betray you like that ever, and I feel really bad that you had to be the one to reveal your identity,” Adrien said, their words mixing until they both clamped hands over their mouths. 

Adrien pressed his lips together, determination glinting in his green eyes. 

“I feel like it’s only fair that I tell you because it’s important to me that you know you can always trust me,” he said, taking a step forward. “You weren’t the only one who could have gotten us out of that situation. In another couple seconds, I would have transformed to save us both too.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he continued, “I’m sorry, m’lady. I guess now the cat’s out of the bag.”

“But- you-” A devilish smile curled on his lips, and as the two halves of his persona clicked together, Ladybug threw her arms around his neck. “It’s you.”

“I’m really sorry, bugaboo,” he murmured against her shoulder. “I should have acted sooner.”

“Even if you had, I would have known your identity. There was no way around it,” she said, pulling away. “We can’t change what happened, but we do need to talk about what to do now. Knowing our identities while Hawkmoth is still out there is dangerous. If one of us gets akumatized…”

“I know,” Adrien said, lowering his gaze. “This isn’t exactly what I was expecting when I dreamed of finding out who you really are. I hoped that I’d single handedly take down Hawkmoth and impress you so much you’d fall in love with me.”

She smiled at that, brushing his nose with her finger. “What should we do? Should we stop being Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“What? No!” His eyes widened in horror. “Look, there’s no one I trust more than you, and I think we make a pretty awesome team. Besides, who knows, maybe this is for the best. Maybe we’ll be stronger and more united. We can have each other’s backs all the time.”

When she didn’t seem convinced, he added, “We’re the cat and bug team, remember?” He said, and at her stern expression, he corrected, “Fine, the bug and cat team.”

“Okay,” she said, taking a breath. “I trust you, and we both agreed when we took on our Miraculouses to keep the city safe. We can’t turn back on that promise now.”

“You and me against the world?” Adrien said, holding out a fist. 

Ladybug looked him up and down, a smile curling on her lips as she touched her fist to his.

“As always.”

[deans-baby-momma]

Wounded Hearts 1

Summary: When John Winchester leaves his two high school-aged sons in a motel in Fairfax IN while he goes off on a hunt, they both make friends. What happens after they have to suddenly leave when John comes to fetch them? Will those friendships endure? Does Dean leave a piece of his soul behind?

Word Count: 3,635

A/N: This is a sequel to Past Haunts, but it’s mostly what happened in the thirteen years between high school and when Sam and Dean return to take care of a haunting in their old stomping grounds of Truman High. The first couple of chapters will be mainly Dean’s POV and then after that, each chapter will switch from Dean’s POV to Rebecca’s POV. I will label them appropriately.

October 14,  1996   Dean’s POV

I watch with pride as Sammy schools some kid. My brother might not look like much but he can fight. I guess all the times sparring with Dad and I have paid off. He gets a few good punches in before laying the bully out. I smile widely as Sam tells the kid that he’s not tough, he is just a jerk. The crowd begins chanting ‘Dirk the Jerk’.

One of the onlookers turns to walk away and slams right into me. I look down to see a girl from a couple of my classes. It takes me a minute to remember her name. Rebecca. Rebecca Quentin.

The blush on her cheeks and the way she pushes her hair behind her ears is adorable as hell! She looks down at the ground after she apologizes but I’ve got to tell her it’s okay. No harm, no foul.

“Hey Rebecca, right?”

I get a glimpse of what a spitfire she is, when I accidentally call her ‘honey’.

“I’m not your honey, Dean!” she rages and honestly it is cute as fuck! 

I smile and try to make up for my obvious mistake. “Listen, Becks,” I begin and cringe at another faux pas. ‘Dammit Dean keep it together.’ “Is it alright if I call you that?”

I sigh and relax when she nods her head that the nickname is okay.

“We got off on the wrong foot. Let me make it up to you. We can go get a bite to eat.” She looks like she is about to reject my offer so I quickly counter. “I’ll even bring my little brother so it won’t look like a date. If that’s what you’re afraid of.” 

When she agrees I can practically feel my heart rate pick up. This girl is beautiful with her gorgeous blue eyes and brown hair. She is a vision and she just agreed to go out with me! Well, Sammy too, but I get to talk more and learn about this angel.

I call Sammy over, never taking my eyes off her. As we leave the school grounds, I wonder if she is aware that she has strategically placed Sammy between us. Was that intentional or just a coincidence? The two of us carry most of the conversation during our trip since Sammy has his nose in some book, the big nerd!

Rebecca Quentin is 17 years old, the same age as me; a senior and is planning on going to college to become a Psychologist. She tells me that she has her heart set on Harvard.

“You must be really smart,” Sam quips glancing up at Rebecca before going back to reading.

On our walk, I learn that she is an only child and lives with her parents on the other side of town. I can’t imagine not having siblings because, although he can get on my nerves, Sammy is my life. I have been protecting him since I was 4 years old, it’s my duty. 

As we pass a movie rental store, I get the bright idea for pizza and a movie in our motel room. After some coaxing, Rebecca agrees and I rush inside to get the movie. ‘All Saints Day’ is one of my favorites. 

Our money situation is getting sparse but I want to splurge for her so I grab a couple bags of popcorn at the checkout and after paying, I join Rebecca and Sammy on the sidewalk.

We walk to the pizza joint and go inside to place our order. I look around the nearly-empty restaurant as we wait. The lighting is bright but is dulled by the amount of wood inside. Dark wooden panels cover the walls with even darker wood beams line the ceiling. The tables are draped with red-and-white checkered table clothes with a candle and a condiment tray in the center. The whole ambience of the place gives off a romantic vibe and I imagine bringing Rebecca here for a date.

‘Get a grip Dean!’ I think to myself. ‘You just met the girl and had to persuade her to hang out with you. She’s probably not even interested in you like that; just too nice to say no.’ The waitress calls our name and I grab the boxes before we continue our trek to the motel. 

At the motel, I am a complete gentleman, holding the door for her to enter first and I even carry her food for her. We settle in, me on the floor and her on the end of my bed. We watch as David Yeager portrays the Hatchet man. Sometime during the movie Rebecca joins me on the floor and when a jumpscare scene comes up she hides her face on my shoulder. I smile as I lean over and whisper, “I’ll protect you.” That earns me a smile and from the look in her eyes, I can tell she actually believes and trusts me. I can’t help myself as I lean over and press my lips to hers, keeping it chaste and innocent because Sammy is right there.  A few minutes later she places her hand in mine and I entwine our fingers, a smile breaking out on my face. I am scared that if I acknowledge it she’ll pull away and that is the last thing I want her to do, so I sit there with a big old goofy grin. We finish the movie and polish off the rest of the food before Sammy begins complaining that he wants to go to the arcade. I only have $20 left for us to live on until Dad returns and the brat is getting on my last nerve.

Suddenly Rebecca speaks up and pulls some bills out of her pocket. “Here ya go. There’s an arcade down at the end. Go crazy!” she tells him, with a laugh.

Sammy’s whole face alights and he begins begging me to go. “Can I Dean? I promise not to go any further. And to come straight back when I’m done. Please?” 

I look at Rebecca and then to Sammy. That means Rebecca and I will be in the room alone, by ourselves. What if she is expecting something to happen. Fuck! I have not watched enough Casa Erotica on stolen pay-per-view for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. Fuck!

I pull Sammy to the side. “No further. And if you see anything...suspicious come back here. You know the codeword.”

Sammy repeats the codeword and is out the door in a flash. Well this just turned awkward. I run my hand across the back of my neck as I turn to look at Rebecca. I take a step closer to her as she steps closer to me. Before long, we are standing toe-to-toe and I can smell her strawberry, I think it’s strawberry at least, shampoo. Her lips are still slightly swollen from the kiss I gave her and I lick mine as I hesitantly reach for her. She walks right into my embrace and wraps her arms around my neck. I lean down and kiss her and OH MY GOD! This kiss is even better than the first. I take a chance and swipe my tongue across the seam of her closed lips and am surprised when she opens to let me lick into her mouth.

She tastes like heaven, if there is a heaven. Her tongue wrestles with mine and she moans as I begin lightly sucking on hers. My hands begin rubbing up and down her sides, the hem of her shirt catching on my fingertips. I pull back and look at her questioningly and she nods so I grab the garment and pull it over her head. She is wearing a little peach bra with a tiny little bow in between her breasts. I swear I could cum right now. She helps me pull my shirt off and then we discard the rest of our clothing until we are left in our skivvies.

We lay down and make out heavily on the bed. I feel like my dick is going to burst, it’s so hard. I slide her bra strap down and then reach behind her to unsnap it. Of course with my bumbling hands, I have trouble but I get it loose and Rebecca pulls it off, dropping it on the floor. 

I stare at the picture before me. Her nipples are hardening to little nubs as I gaze at them. Seeing breasts on television is one thing but fuck me, breasts in real life? There is no comparison. Gathering up all the courage I can muster, I dip my head and kiss one of the stiff peaks, flicking my tongue across it. Rebecca moans above me and her hands land on the back of my head. I continue laving her nipple all the while loving the sounds she is producing.

I slide my hand slowly down her stomach, praying she doesn't feel the tremble in it. My whole body is vibrating with nerves.  I have never gotten this far with a girl and I'm worried I will somehow mess this up. I want to satisfy and please her. When my fingertips meet her panties, I lightly run them along the edge. I look up to see Rebecca's eyes watching me. She wiggles her hips and smiles. I take that as her consent to keep going. 

I push up onto my knees between her legs, almost embarrassed at the obviousness of my arousal. I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down. Once I get them to her feet I stand up and take them the rest of the way off. I grab the top of my boxers to remove them but my eyes land on her body. Taking my time, I run my eyes down from her face to her neck, over her heaving chest and gorgeous tits down her stomach to….her pussy. Fuck! I palm my dick as I look at the splendor before me. Her outer lips are bare and smooth and I can just see a peek of her clit. How the hell am I going to last, I'm already about to blow my load. I push my boxers down until they fall to the floor.

 Climbing back onto the bed,  I position myself between her legs and lean forward to capture her lips. My cock rubs against her inner thigh and oh my fucking god! How am I getting harder?!

Rebecca's back arches off the bed, breaking our lips apart. "Dean," she sighs and I look into her eyes. Holy shit! This is happening! I'm about to have sex. I sure hope to god Sam doesn't return anytime soon. "Do you have a condom?"

Fuck!! Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Yea I have a condom; one dad gave me when I turned 13, four years ago. Dammit to hell. 

I crawl off the bed,  trying to figure out if I want to take a chance with that old thing. I look around the room and spot a half wadded sandwich wrapper on the table. It keeps sandwiches fresh and dry so it should work right? I grab the plastic and notice a few crumbs stuck to it. I shake them off and proceed to wrap the cellophane around my dick,  making sure that the tip is covered well.  When I am satisfied with the protection, I climb back onto the bed and take my previous place. 

I grab the base of my dick and line it up with her entrance. "Ready baby?" I ask as sincerely as I can.

I’m nervous as hell but I want to make this good for her. I look down as I run the tip of my dick along her slit, her juices warm and slippery. I press in to breach her outer lips and notch myself at her entrance. I don’t know why but I am assuming this is her first time too. Maybe it’s the look of anxiety on her face or maybe I’m just seeing things. Either way, I want to ease her into this. Ok, yea and me too. “This might hurt and I’m sorry.”

I press into her and am immediately met with resistance. Yep, this is her first time too. Has to be, ain’t no way they are always this tight, right? I lean down and kiss her to swallow her cries as I pull out and push back in. A few more tries and our hips are flush, my dick is inside her! Holy shit, I am inside a girl and fuck does it feel wonderful! I have to bite my inner cheek to stave off the desire to shoot my load. It feels that fucking good!

When Rebecca whimpers, I freeze. Oh fuck! Did I hurt her? I should have been more gentle. ‘Good going Dean!’ I silently chastise myself. I wanted this to feel good for her, not to cause her any pain. I pull my upper body off her enough so that our foreheads are touching. Neither of us are moving, just our chests from the heaving breaths we are both taking. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, although if she would say no I think I’d have to kill myself. I don’t want to have harmed her in any way. 

Instead Rebecca grins up at me and nods her head. I feel relieved instantly. “Yea. Just keep doing what you are doing. It’ll get better.”

I start a slow and steady drive of pushing in and pulling out all the while trying to hide the euphoria on my face. I lean down and nuzzle into her neck, kissing the skin behind her ear.

Rebecca starts making these sweet little sounds that are so much better than anything I’ve ever heard on pay-per-view. It is music to my ears. I begin grunting on the push in and moaning each time I pull out. I swear I am in heaven. If there is a god, I want to shake that guy’s hand.

 Oh god! Now her pussy is squeezing me tight, making my momentum wobble. I can feel my nuts drawing up and I know I’m about to meet my end. White explodes my vision and I push in as far as I can, pulsing and shooting my load into that plastic sandwich wrapper. This is so much better than jacking off! 

Suddenly, Rebecca grabs my biceps; her fingers digging into my skin. She throws her head back onto my pillow with her eyes closed as she screams, “Oh god! Dean!”  I can feel her getting wetter and seeping out around my shaft.

I kiss along her collarbone, careful to keep my weight off of her as we both come down from that magnificent high. Now I know what all the excitement is about. Sex with a woman is phenomenal!

After cleaning up and getting re-dressed, the awkwardness creeps in. We stand in the middle of mine and Sammy’s motel room, just staring at one another with small smiles on each of our faces. Mine will probably be etched on and never go away.

“Well, I uh….I better get home,” Rebecca stammers, pushing her hair behind her ear. Does she realizes how fucking adorable and captivating that little habit is? Probably not, but it fucking is.

I don’t want her to go but I know she needs to get home. I look at my watch and balk as I see that it is almost 6 pm. So that means for almost an hour she and I had sex. Wow!

I grab her wrist and pull her toward me, running a finger down the side of her face. “See ya tomorrow, Becks.” I lean in and give her a quick kiss on the lips and wistfully watch as she opens the door.

Before leaving though, she looks back at me one more time and smiles. There is a sparkle in her eye and I can’t help but feel proud; I put that there. After the door closes, I turn to grab my flannel; might as well go hang out with Sammy in the arcade. Maybe whoop him in a game of Mario Kart. A spot on the bed catches my attention and my heart flutters when I realize what it is. There in the middle of my bed, is a splotch of Rebecca’s cum. I’ll sleep great tonight, with the knowledge that I finally got laid. And we both enjoyed it. The proof is right there. 

I pull my flannel on, checking to see if I had the room key before I strut down the side of the building to the room that the arcade is located in. I look through the window to see my nerdy ass brother sitting at a game for dorks; some type of trivia shit. I go to grab the door handle and wonder if Sammy will be able to tell a difference in me. I am no longer Dean Winchester, virgin but I am Dean Winchester, sex god. 

I challenge Sammy to a round of Lethal Enforcers, totally demolishing him. But at 13 Dad hasn’t let Sammy get much practice in with a gun. Not like he has with me; by the time I was Sammy’s age I could take apart, clean and reassemble almost any caliber weapon in Dad’s possession. I ruffle Sam’s hair as we head back to the room, much to his chagrin. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood Dean?” Sammy asks. “You and Rebecca do it?” I can tell by the playfulness of his voice and the smirk on his face, Sammy has no idea what transpired in our room.  In an attempt to play it cool and nonchalant, I puff out my chest and say, “Yea. I rocked her world.”

Sammy rolls his eyes and continues walking towards the room. I shudder at how much of a jerk I sound like. It was nothing like that at all. What happened between Becks and I was magical and wonderful and I wouldn’t mind doing it again. At that thought, I remind myself to invest in some newer condoms. 

The next morning

I can’t wait to get to school. I have first period with Rebecca and I am hoping to be able to sit beside her. That is, if Amanda Heckerling and her flunkies leave us alone. There is a skip in my step as Sammy and I walk the two blocks to the school. But it falls away when the cell phone in my pocket begins ringing. I know there is only one person with this number and there is only one reason he would be calling. Dad is done with his hunt and is on his way to pick us up. I curse as I take the phone out of my jacket pocket and flip it open.

After the call, I tell Sammy the news. “Dad will be here by lunchtime to pick us up. Do you have everything in your bag?” We had long ago learned to carry our personal possessions with us instead of leaving them in whatever motel room we stayed in. Easier for Dad to just pick us up and leave town before any questions or concerns arose. 

“Yep,” Sammy answers and I can tell he is as melancholy as I am at the thought of leaving this town. In the three weeks we’ve been here, we have both made friends and hated leaving them behind, knowing we’d probably never see or hear from them again.

I go about my normal routine, checking in at homeroom and grabbing my shit out of my locker before heading to English Lit. As soon as I walk in I spot Rebecca but instead of the smile I expect to see on her face, she looks down. Is she ashamed of what we did? Did she tell someone and they made fun of her for having sex with the boy from out of town? I walk past her and take my usual seat at the back. I can’t wait for Dad to get here so we can get out of this shithole! Lunchtime cannot come soon enough.

At lunch, I track down Sammy and we go to the front of the school to wait on Dad. As we hear the rumble of the Impala coming we both look up at the building morosely. The best and worst things happened here. I met a girl and had sex just for her to turn around and deny she even knew me. “This place sucks. Come on Sam,” I say as I head around the front of the car to get into the front.

As we pass the sign that thanks us for visiting Fairfax, I silently wish Rebecca Quentin a farewell. My heart constricts and I feel sick. I lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes and daydream about blue eyes and dark brown hair and soft silky skin. 

@tftumblin​ @spnbaby-67​ @markofdean79​ @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @hoboal87​ @squirrelnotsam​ @natura1phenomenon​ @drakelover78​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @blacktithe7​ @atc74​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @sandlee44​ @mogaruke​  @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​  @lyarr24​

[reversemoon255]

MHF-01DR Load Astray Double Rebake

This wasn’t one I was expecting. Well, I was expecting it to arrive; I did preorder it. What I mean is I wasn’t expecting this particular unit or gimmick to show up in Re:Rise. I get Tsukasa is a popular character, but even Riku only got a recolor with new weapons. I also wasn’t expecting the back-to-front gimmick. With all the Core-Types in this series, and seeing those feet hanging off the back of the unit in promotional footage, I was expecting this to be another Core with very detailed armor. I’m glad to be wrong on both accounts, as this is a cool unit, but it’s just strange how out-of-left-field it feels.

The Good: This is a fun build with some interesting construction. It’s not insanely complex, but it’s relatively straightforward and makes good use of its parts. There’s not as much deconstruction to get between its two modes as you’d think, either. A little bit in the shoulders, popping the wrists off, and removing the feet so you can make clearance for the new legs. And it’s a pretty stark contrast between modes. It gains an insane amount of height, and the redistribution of parts creates a very different robot than when you started.

There are a few oddities on this unit, like with the Wodom Pod. Not nearly as many, but an unused port on the back of the skirt, unused ports on the backs of the ankles. I wonder if there’s future plans for this unit, though as we only had a single episode of Divers Battlogue, I don’t know where it would come from.

The Bad: With both the Astray No Name and Galbaldy Rebake, its issues come down to posability. The shoulder cape gets in the way all the time when trying to pose the arms as Cuadro, and all the back bulk on the legs limits the range of the knees (it has great ankles, though).

Reverso, while cool looking, suffers from some of the issues you might expect from an alternate mode like this; no posability. Those legs are very tedious, are required to be fully bent to stand, and have trouble standing anyway. The arms have a bit more range than as Cuadro, but are still hindered by the shoulders. It’s a cool-looking mode that’s only meant to look cool.

The issues I have with the kit proper are the yellow Reverso chest pieces and white shoulder armor should have been plastic and not stickers. I understand why the shoulders weren’t, seeing as they were being sold as a separate set, but the chest feels pretty inexcusable considering they had a yellow insert for the belt buckle of all things, but not a much more prominent detail. It also stresses very easily. Granted, I was doing a few things I think I wasn’t supposed to, but even when I was trying to extend the handled on the rifles I ended up putting a little stress on those parts. Be careful.

The Details: I added my usual amount of black panel lining and detailing throughout the unit. Lots of vents and gaps here that could use it. I also replaced all the stickers. There were a number of metallic blue ones all over, some blue on the waist and hips which I managed to color match pretty well, a lot of minor face details, and the two parts I mentioned previously; the yellow chest vents and white shoulder plates. It’s not a lot of paint, but it’s light colors going on top of dark plastic, including the dreaded yellow.

Normally I shave off the added safety nubs on the horns, which I had to do 6 times on this guy, but I also cut the guard bar off the rifles. I know it’s canonically supposed to be there, but it blocks the barrels and I wanted it gone.

Overall, this is not a bad kit, it’s just one lacking posability and requires a lot of paint if you don’t want to sticker it. But with a little love and attention, you can get it to look great and put it in a decent pose that’ll look good on your display. This is one I’d actually say you might have more fun straight building rather than doing anything fancy, which I think is a first for me.

[phantomrose96]

A Breach of Trust: Chapter 24

(Act 1: Chapter 1-9 )

(Act 2: Chapter 10-18 )

(Act 3: Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23)

Content warning for somewhat graphic horror. Very lengthy chapter under the cut!

When Ritsu bore his wrist, he swore he’d grown used to it.

When the first spirit lunged, Ritsu was proven wrong.

The tearing out of power was still something alien, like gauze yanked from a stuffed wound. It was something unphysical scraping against tissue and muscle and bone, and it came with a pang, a shock of light-headedness. Ritsu showed none of it on his face, because he swore he’d be used to it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Teru. Teru stood bored, scrutinizing, leaning against the brick wall of the alley. His expression suggested thinning patience, and Ritsu couldn’t pin point why. Maybe it was the amount of time Ritsu took with the feeding. Maybe it was the clumsy way he handled it. Maybe it was anger left over from the last mission, when Ritsu had panicked and nearly fired the shot at the office worker who’d—

Ritsu’s breath stuttered. A harsh pull and snap from the feeding spirit seemed to rock Ritsu’s whole body. His balance faltered, legs squaring, breath deepening as he fought the sudden pricks of starlight in his vision.

A quick stumble. That was it. Sweat trickled down Ritsu’s neck but, he was handling it. The sun rimmed high over the soccer field above, casting the spirits into pale amalgams of dust, writhing between beams. They seemed less real like this in the warm light. So Ritsu could stand his ground against each prick and pull and shock of unreal teeth against his skin. Normal. Routine. He wouldn’t falter in front of Teru.

When the last spirit pulled away, Ritsu’s heart rate had quickened. A quiet ringing had entered his ears, and a shivering numbness pulsed through his body. But he remained aware, and upright, and alert. He was getting better at this.

Ritsu grabbed his bag from the concrete, and stepped with forced steadiness to Teru’s side. Ritsu holstered the bag over his shoulder, willing the numbness to fade.

“Ready?” Ritsu asked, offering a scowl a bit too performative.

Teru grimaced. He raised his index finger beneath his nose and mimed a wiping gesture.

Ritsu stared, perplexed. There was nothing on Teru’s face. After a moment, an icy thought hit him. Ritsu opened his mouth and touched his tongue to his upper lip. Coppery wetness spread through his mouth. Ritsu moved a hand to his nose and rubbed. Something wet trailed from the left nostril, and he pulled his hand away to examine the crimson stain webbing along the creases of his palm.

Behind Ritsu’s outstretched hand, Teru’s wrist flicked. Ritsu blinked back to attention and found Teru holding a pack of travel tissues, one tissue snagged between two fingers and extended. Ritsu took it silently.

“Don’t get any on me,” Teru said, turning on his heel, moving ahead of Ritsu to the front of the school.

Ritsu wiped the blood from his nose, and tested with a tap of his finger to see if he was still bleeding. Nothing. He stashed the tissue into his pocket, and spun to catch up with Teru.

It was a dry day. Ritsu refused to consider anything past that.

…

Gimcrack acted as guide, unnoticed and unseen as he led Ritsu and Teru far from the Salt Mid alleyway.  They wound down residential streets, buildings and concrete thinning as trees appeared in greater number. The streets were peppered with small wooden shops nearly mistakable for townhouses and small abodes with lawns larger than Ritsu was used to seeing. They cut through yards where Gimcrack seemed inclined to phase through buildings, crunching leaves beneath their heels and vaulting a fence to a house old and decrepit and dark. They kept walking, leaving behind the heart of Seasoning City and settling on a small street of shops lined wall to wall. Gimcrack halted in front of a thin and tall building, paneled with wood, warmly lit from the inside.

“Is this it?” Teru tilted his head up to Gimcrack, who floated intentionally too high, outside grabbing range. Teru had become openly hostile with Gimcrack since his abandonment of them in the office building, and he made the tension know. The hair on Ritsu’s neck bristled.

“Yup.” Gimcrack gestured to the storefront. “Energy’s spilling outta this place. Give it a feel.”

Teru placed a palm against the entrance. “Why don’t you scope it out first, Gimcrack?”

“Nuh-uh.” Gimcrack crossed his bony arms over his body in an X shape. “I don’t want to get eaten up by whatever’s in there.”

“Would you rather I exorcise you?”

“Hey, Kageyama!” Gimcrack swooped down to Ritsu’s level, tugging loosely on his collar and hiding a fraction behind Ritsu’s frame. “Think you can control your friend a little? You’re the one leading this mission, aint ya?”

Teru let out a bark of a laugh. Ritsu shoved the door in without comment.

Chimes clanked above them. Warm light washed over Ritsu’s face, the dense smell of cinnamon and cloves. Ritsu blinked. Color in the form of tightly wound bundles tucked into endless bins assaulted him.

Teru shoved ahead of Ritsu, beaming.

“Oh it’s a yarn shop!” Teru dropped his bag at the entrance and sauntered in, stooping at each display to feel out the texture of the different wools. He picked up something gaudy, fluffy, and pink and held it to the light. “I’ve been meaning to make another sweater.”

Ritsu held the side display, lips pursed in irritation. His eyes scanned the store. Wooden paneling dominated the walls and floor, almost cabin-like in its beveling. Dozens of wooden bins lined the walls, organized by thickness and texture, colors splashed in almost haphazardly. A grouped display of 6 bins sat at the center of the room, thick bundles of saturated blues, oranges, pinks, and yellows. Construction paper signs lined the display, advertising discounts.

Teru practically floated between displays, amassing a bundle in his arms of yarn offensively bright and frilly.

Reluctantly, Ritsu’s eyes trailed to Teru, taking note of the bins that Teru dug through and the bundles he grabbed. The first was a yarn deeply orange and scratchy-looking to the touch, the color of an old and bitter cat. From the neighboring bin, Teru snagged a bundle thin and turquoise, yarn winding in defined streaks along the surface. The next was a bin of pinks with feather nubs along the length of string. Then another ball, red velvety and thick.

Ritsu’s attention shifted to the rack of guide books, the starter kits, the sewing needles tucked to the side with spindles of thread stacked up in plastic displays like candy. Grated shelves lined the top of each wall, bearing specialty bundles of yarn, metallic needles arranged by ascending size, as well as an odd display of small hooked needles.

Soft light trickled through the ceiling window, floating dust catching in the shine, baking the interior with a noxious cocktail of Christmas spices. Ritsu was uncomfortably warm.

“My last sweater was pink, like this kind here.” Teru lifted the pink yarn, unreasonably fluffy, like a small Pomeranian. “One of my favorites. But I’ve been dying for something turquoise. That’ll bring out the color of my eyes hmm? Or do you think something a bit dimmer, more of an aqua? I’ve heard lavender suits me wonderfully.”

Ritsu’s eyes flickered to Teru’s uniform. Then away. Thinking about it was bad for his blood pressure.

“Focus,” Ritsu muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Gimcrack hadn’t followed them inside. So Ritsu gave the display area another glance. Nothing stood out. He looked deeper; the store stretched further back, a single doorway propped open in the back-right corner. Stairs led up to the left. Ritsu chewed his tongue, and then set his sights on the stairs.

“I’m going to check upstairs. You get the back,” Ritsu said.

“Good plan. I don’t want you down here destroying any yarn.”

Ritsu considered replying and thought better of it. He set one experimental foot to the first step.

“Can I help you boys?”

Ritsu froze. He dropped his hand from the railing and glanced sideways. A woman with graying hair and spectacles stood at the threshold between the front of the store and the backroom. She watched him with a smile as warm as the store, eyes small, cheeks plump. Her cardigan bore the design of deer and trees, clearly hand-knit.

She stepped closer, navigating around yarn bins and tilting her head around to better see Ritsu.

“Oh, Dearie no, the door up there is locked. There’s nothing for sale up there. Are you looking for something a little extra?”

Slowly, Ritsu removed his foot from the stair. “Um…”

“Ah!” Teru answered, and even Ritsu startled a bit at the grandiose in his voice. Teru shoved his gathered-up yarn into the crook of his right arm. He moved with wide, swaying steps to the woman, smile open and friendly, and took her by the shoulder with his free hand. “My dear my dear I am having the hardest time my dear.” Teru spun her around, guiding her back where she came. “See my sister just adores my handknit crafts, and her 16th birthday is coming up soon. I have this new ribbed pattern I want to try out—a simple knit-3 purl-3, ribbing about yay-big—and I am just beside myself finding a color and texture to my liking—“

Ritsu watched with an expression of contempt for every word he couldn’t understand.

“—I was thinking something cocoa colored. She has these gorgeous chocolate brown eyes—oh, quite like yours—that I think would sparkle marvelously with—oh now don’t be bashful! Your eyes are glimmering love. Anyway, a chalky cocoa, but not too dense hmm? I want the rib pattern to show through, and if the yarn is too frilly it hides the pattern. And I considered larger needle size but who needs a loosely-knit sweater my dear am I right?”

Ritsu filtered out Teru’s rambling. His leg bounced, jaw biting down tight to keep him from snapping at Teru. It wouldn’t be worth drawing suspicion. He could only wait, seething quietly at Teru’s utter lack of concern.

For a split second, Ritsu and Teru locked eyes. A quick twitch of Teru’s head, a split second of piercing eye-contact, explosive in its silence. Teru’s eyes jerked to the stairway leading up, and Ritsu understood with a rush of shame what was happening.

Ritsu mounted the stairs again, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to creak the wood beneath his feet while Teru kept the shop owner distracted. Teru’s rambling continued unimpeded, words like “gauge” and “crochet” and “casting” assaulting Ritsu’s ears, along with overly saccharine compliments to the shopkeeper who only giggled in response. She responded, voice drawing away into the backroom with her and Teru’s footsteps. Ritsu kept climbing.

The air grew mustier and warmer as he ascended, the staircase leading up to an attic tucked into the wooden paneling. At the top was a single door, its white-painted face chipped, top corner shaven and jammed in the doorframe. Ritsu tested the knob, and it held firm under his grip.

He tightened his hand, a small shock of purple energy mangling the metal with a pop. When he twisted again, the lock gave, loose metal pieces tinkering down as he eased the door open. It swung in, giving way to a small bedroom tucked into the attic, triangular in shape. The bed took up most space, covered with a quilt sewn of patches long-faded. A wooden night stand sat beside it, red-blinking clock and a lamp adorning its top. Natural light flooded in from the panel of windows across from the bed, paling the carpeting. A small dusty tv sat perched in front of it, its front consumed in shadow. Sweat trickled down Ritsu’s neck, and the warm and dense smell of lavender flowed over him.

Ritsu noticed the laundry basket to his left, and for a moment was swamped with guilt for wearing his shoes in this woman’s house.

The thought vanished instantly, consumed by a new twanging of his heart as he gave a second look to the laundry basket. The air above it shifted, schismed, as though above a hot tar road in summer. Ritsu approached it steadily, palm buzzing with a hint of energy. He screwed his eyes to focus, a small headache building behind his skull.

He saw it. Small and curled and wispy green, a cat dozed on the folded linen sheets. It let out a small fluttering purr, and the tension left Ritsu’s body. He backed away from it, chewing his tongue, letting his shoulders sag. It wasn’t anything. Not his brother. Not a dangerous spirit. Just a ghost cat, asleep on some laundry.

He wiped his sleeve along his brow and stood still, heart rate calming. He watched the cat for longer, the muffled sing-song sound of Teru’s conversation bubbling through the carpeting. It was curled in the sun, its body scarcely visible in the beam that floated dust through the room. Ritsu’s hand twitched. He considered his options, but he only came up empty. There was no use in doing anything to the cat. No use in him and Teru being here.

Nothing that would lead him any closer to Mob.

“Sorry, cat,” Ritsu offered quietly. He turned on his heel.

And he screamed when something ghastly stared back.

Ritsu stumbled back, just as the creature shoved a bony arm out and jammed something sharp into the socket of Ritsu’s left shoulder. Ritsu let out a muffled cry and clamped his arm to his shoulder. He forced his eyes to focus. A man of sorts, dressed in a faded apron, his eyes pits of black that seemed to have melted. The holes where his eyes should have been had wept down his face dripping over hollow cheek bones. His skin was waxy, greasy, peeled and glistening as thought severely burned, right to the stub of ashen hair left at the top of his head.

Ritsu’s eyes shot to the spirit’s hand, bearing the wispy, immaterial form of a knife. He unclamped his hand from his shoulder, seeing the faintest trickle of blood ooze from the wound.

“You can see Mitzy…” the spirit rasped. It inched closer. “Are you a ghost? Are you a ghost too? Here to steal her from me?”

Ritsu stumbled back, hands up. “No! No I don’t want your stupid cat!”

“Not the cat… My food. Her…”

Confusion twisted Ritsu’s face. His breathing hitched in his throat.

“…That lady downstairs!?”

“She’s mine…”

The spirit lunged again, and Ritsu dodged, knocking into the nightstand. He fell, back slamming against the drawer. The lamp wobbled and crashed beside him. Ritsu startled, and then shoved himself to his feet and scrambled before another lunge of the knife could slice him.

He backed away from the spirit, trying to keep the distance between them, though he only managed to back himself into a corner. Ritsu glanced behind him, bug-eyed, finger tips feeling out the corner of the paneled walling. The spirit closed the gap in slow hobbling steps. Energy coiled around the knife, and Ritsu squeezed his eyes shut, breath shaking.

Not again. Not this again.

He needed to do better. He needed to be better if he ever wanted to measure up to Teru. If he ever wanted to take down the thing that took his brother.

He needed to stop shaking. He needed to stop panicking. He needed to stop shutting down every time the danger inched too close.

He needed to be steady. Deliberate. Focused.

He needed to be like Teru.

His eyes snapped open as the spirit lunged, and Ritsu released a tendril of energy from his palm. It wrapped around the offending ghost, snagging tight at his midsection and pinning his arms to his side. The spirit came crashing forward, smashing to the floor and oozing against the rope that grated him. It screeched, teeth gnashing, and all the while its restrained arm swung the knife in arcs wherever he could slash it.

Mitzy woke up, blinked, let out a displeased yowl and hopped off the laundry pile. Her tail flicked as she sauntered out the open attic door.

Ritsu didn’t pay the ghost cat any mind. He only tested his grip on the rope. He had meant for chains, something like Teru had used to restrain the spirits of his horde. What Ritsu managed to create was formless, but still strong enough to hold the writhing spirit.

He took a step closer, breath steadying, momentarily eyeing the smashed lamp and the open door. Nothing appeared there, no sound except for the muffled conversation that carried on below, and the noises of the spirit at his mercy. Ritsu refocused, attentive to the spirit that snapped its teeth at him and hissed. Its wilting weepy eyes melted further down its face as it howled, seeming to lose vigor the more its greasy burnt body decayed. Ritsu extended his hand once more, letting off a twist of glowing purple energy to wrapped around the spirits mouth, muzzling it.

Ritsu closed the gap between them, and the expression on the spirit’s face shifted. Lashing anger melted to something meeker, something more sober, its wide dripping eyes seeming to come to an understanding. Ritsu’s hand paused. He didn’t exorcise the spirit just yet. Something about the expression halted him. Something familiar in it.

Ritsu, bearing down on the spirit, recognized the fear of something hunted. Trapped and cornered and at the mercy of something more powerful. He recognized it as the mangled, twisted emotion in his own chest at every feeding of the spirit.

He stretched his hand out and set it against the spirit’s throat. The spirit whimpered through its gag, and Ritsu gave an experimental tug. It wasn’t a physical motion. It was something in his core, like inhaling, like swallowing, but something purely routed through the channels where his psychic power flowed.

Ritsu watched the energy leech out of the spirit’s face, and soak into his own hand.

If the spirits could feed off of him, that meant he could feed off of them…

Ritsu strained his hand harder. The muffled cries of the spirit lessened as it withered, curdling inward, losing shape and form as its ether drained away. Ritsu looked away, just a bit unsettled by the destruction unfolding before his eyes.

The throbbing behind his eyes lessened. The ache in his chest eased. The scattered numbness vanished from his limbs almost instantly, as though he’d never even fed the spirits that afternoon. When Ritsu finally looked, nothing of the spirit remained, and the lack of pain coursing through his body was almost euphoric.

Slowly, Ritsu set his left thumb to his wrist. He rubbed, searching for the aching torn wound the spirits fed themselves from. Nothing of the sort appeared. The wound had healed, stained only with a shimmering bit of purple residue.

A shivering brushed through his leg, and Ritsu startled. He stepped back, eyes swinging down. Mitzy trailed between his feet, nudging her head against Ritsu’s pant leg. Ritsu eased. He crouched down, and put out a hand for Mitzy to investigate. She sniffed it, then rubbed her hand against it, then stretched further to examine Ritsu’s wrist. Ritsu let this happen. He held his wrist exposed. Mitzy licked at the violet residue smeared along his healed skin, and licked until not a single stain remained.

Her tongue tickled, cold.

…

Iciness clung to the interior of the bus, soaking through the windows with a chill almost wet to the touch. Ritsu leaned against the black glass, jostling slightly, arms folded in, coat unbuttoned. He watched passing streetlights, blips of light along a stretch of road massive and vacant and dark. The scenery had thinned to almost nothing, buildings and trees growing sparse until the outskirts of the city loomed, liminal and far-removed. The bus’s light washed fluorescent and sterile against the glass, so that Ritsu’s own stiff expression stared back at him. He felt far away from it all, Seasoning City drawing away behind him, consumed into dark nothing.

Teru sat beside Ritsu, immersed in his phone, fingers twitching and silent except for the occasional jangle of phone charms. He hunched forward, uninterested in the thinning scenery outside. Ritsu caught the flipped image of hearts and kissy emojis in the window’s reflection. Everything reflected at a slant, brighter and clearer than the sparse and empty inky blackness beyond. Ritsu exhaled, and his breath fogged the window.

Empty seats surrounded them, the last two people on the bus.

“It’s this next one,” Ritsu said. He tapped the button to signal the driver.

Teru only nodded, and chuckled secretively at his phone before slipping it back in his pocket. He hopped from his seat into the walkway and moved toward the front of the bus before it even began to slow. Ritsu followed in silence.

The huff of brakes, swing of doors, clawing cold of air curling into the bus. Teru whipped out a bus pass to wave in front of the sensor, and he gave the driver a cordial smile before descending the steps to the concrete below. Ritsu dug around in his coat pockets for the change he’d scrounged from his room, and dropped the coins into the till with fingers a bit numb from the cold. He didn’t acknowledge the driver as he descended the steps to the pale concrete below. He wanted no one seeing his face.

The bus door shivered shut, and its engine kicked back in with a heavy sigh. It left behind the faint acid smell of gasoline as it tugged along, consumed in the street that carried on straight and narrow and nondescript. Then it vanished entirely, leaving Ritsu in the pallid lighting of the lone glass bus stop. Wind tore between Ritsu’s ankles. He shivered, hunched into the jacket, and shoved his hands deep into the pockets.

Ritsu stared at the bus stop. Teru had seated himself on the provided bench, legs crossed, fingers flying over the screen of his phone. The blue light lit his smirk, warm feathery jacket hunched up by his shoulders. Moonlight struck the left side of him, silvery and ghostly. Ritsu assumed he must have looked the same. He didn’t check, merely staring until Teru looked up and they locked eyes.

“Which way?” Ritsu asked.

Teru shrugged, and he pocketed his phone again. “How should I know? Aren’t you the mission leader?”

“The address. Your phone has a GPS. I sent you the address.”

“My hands’ll get cold. Use Gimcrack.”

“He’s meeting us there. Ghosts can’t ride the bus.”

“Oh. Hmm. Yeah. Of course.” Teru stood and stretched, his breath puffing silver beneath the moon. “I trust him. He’s a trustworthy guy.”

“Just use your phone!”

“I’m conserving the battery.”

“Hanazawa!” Ritsu barked. His breath curled crisp. A lone car streaked past, passing and leaving them in ringing silence. Ritsu let his shoulders relax, tension bleeding out of him. He was tired. “Please? We’re just wasting time. This bus only runs once an hour, and the route shuts down at midnight.” Ritsu snagged his flip phone from his pocket and opened it. “And it’s 9:15 now.”

Teru shrugged. “Well.” He pulled out his own smart phone, flicking through apps and settling on the map icon. He gave it a moment to adjust, then motioned his head down the far sloping end of the road. He spun on his heels and walked forward. “Then let’s not dawdle. It’s ten minutes this way.”

Ritsu followed in silence, hunched in against the wind that whipped his ears.

Only two turns lay on their route. Ritsu made sure to memorize each of them as they passed in case Teru’s phone died during the raid. He struggled each time for a landmark. Every turn looked the same, sparse of trees and houses, only deep-stretching roads linking one town to the next. After ten minutes, the trees grew denser, taller and more woods-like. The road became gravel, and the GPS brought them down a beaten-in dirt road, burrowing down and away and leading to a warehouse massive and metal. An equally impressive parking lot sat beside it, lined with trucks resting beneath flood-lights. Trees rung the lot, tall and mangled in the moonlight. Ritsu followed down the road. Gravel crunching beneath his feet. He felt around inside the coat pocket, hand settling on the flashlight tucked inside.

“Gimcrack!”

Ritsu called to the blob of dark violet energy he spotted hovering pallid beneath one of the lights stretching over the warehouse roof. Gimcrack waved in response, and Ritsu picked up his pace.

“Is anyone around?” Ritsu asked, eyes shooting periodically to the monolith trucks, skeleton like, beneath the lights. Gimcrack shook his head.

“Nah.” Gimcrack’s attention shifted behind Ritsu, and Ritsu heard Teru’s steps approaching slow and even. Gimcrack hovered a few inches further away. “Last guy left about an hour ago.”

Ritsu turned, investigating the warehouse. Massive steel garage doors lined one side, a loading dock. Beside them, a short set of concrete stairs led to a door. Ritsu stepped to them, climbing. He wrapped his hand around the handle, long thin and metallic, cold to the touch. He tested it. It didn’t budge. He twisted harder. Locked.

Ritsu let go and turned to Gimcrack. “How do we get in?”

“I get you in,” Gimcrack answered. He drifted closer, gauging Ritsu’s reaction. “You gotta let me help though.”

Ritsu felt a hand, clammy and spider-like, settle on his shoulder. He jerked, but Gimcrack’s grip remained firm.

“What—“

“Just relax a second okay? Drop your guard.”

Ritsu only stared. His eyes shifted to Teru, who made no attempt to hide the suspicion on his face.

“What are you doing?” Ritsu asked, tense.

“If you relax for just like, two seconds here kid, I can show you. Unscrew your face would you?”

Reluctantly, Ritsu eased his shoulders. He breathed deep, and he felt Gimcrack’s hand phase deeper. An iciness washed through his whole core, a sensation like being dunked in ice water.

“Touch the door again,” Gimcrack said.

Ritsu did, tentatively. His eyes widened as his hand slipped right through the metal.

“I get you in, I get you out, maybe with an extra brother huh?”

Ritsu retracted his hand from the door. “Is this safe?”

“Is any of this safe?” Gimcrack asked.

“Yeah, no,” Teru answered, cold and firm. He stepped up beside Ritsu, eyes sharp and aura leaking with aggression. Gimcrack hopped away from the two of them. “We’ll just blast a door in. You can leave.”

“And trigger all their alarms? You sure you want that kiddo?” Gimcrack asked. He paused, reading Teru’s icy expression, and a smile crawled over his lips. “I’m just offering a generous service here.”

“It’s fine, probably,” Ritsu answered. He eyed his hand, flexing the numb joints. Feeling had begun to trickle back into his tingling fingers. His heart thrummed. “Do it again, Gimcrack.”  

“Atta boy.”

Gimcrack wrapped his fingers around Ritsu’s shoulder once more, washing Ritsu with a chill so thorough that feeling vanished from his body. Ritsu gasped, unbalanced and unfeeling.

“Go on. Walk kid.”

Ritsu held his breath, trying to orient himself, or at the very least stay upright. Vertigo washed cold through his stomach, but he forced his feet forward. The wall passed through him as though it weren’t there. Or, Ritsu supposed, as though he weren’t there.

On the other side, Ritsu dropped to his knees for a moment to catch his breath. Tingling feeling returned in waves, but it was as though his core had been wrapped in ice. His body shivered, mind recovering.

Silently, a second figure walked in beside him. Teru remained standing, squaring his hips, feet pointed decidedly forward. “Hmmm. Maybe I should have brought a thicker coat.”

Ritsu stared down at his hands, pressed to the ground. Sensation seeped back into his body, but his palms and fingers had grown colder, pressed to a floor colder than ice. The shivering wasn’t just from Gimcrack’s powers, it was from the room itself. His wits returned to him, and slowly, Ritsu remembered where they were.

He looked up. Blackness met his vision, massive and endless. He pushed himself from the floor, fished a hand around in his coat pocket, and grabbed the flashlight from within. He shot it out, and ran his thumb along the surface until the switch beveled under his touch. Ritsu flicked the beam on.

The light sliced through a cone of black, throwing clawing, climbing, stark shadows and empty hollows along every surface. Ritsu took in the scene around him.

Row upon row of carved pig carcasses hung from the ceiling, slit at the stomach and strung from hooks digging through their back hooves. They were sliced in half and gutted, ridges of milky white rib cages reflecting the light and beveling the flesh that clung to them. The chains hung in tight rows, bodies slung from the ceiling like coats at the dry cleaner. All heads had been removed.

Ritsu swung the beam. By the walls, palettes were stacked high with unprocessed carcasses. They were tied down, stiff limbs jutting out, faces wrapped in cellophane. Ritsu blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark, so that his peripheral vision filled with the hung and tethered form of pig corpses.

A second beam of light joined him from Teru’s phone, swinging around the display with flippancy. Teru walked forward in investigation, speaking casually, his words lost on Ritsu. Ritsu stayed rooted. The wind howled loud and percussive against the warehouse, warbling the walls, clanking the ceiling chains. Ritsu swallowed and exhaled, his breath frozen in front of him. His stomach squirmed.

“He’s not here, Hanazawa,” Ritsu said.

Teru stopped and turned, his light momentarily blinding Ritsu. “Hmm?”

“My brother’s not here. He can’t be. It’s a freezer. He’s not.”

Teru spun again, lighting up another ghastly display of pigs whose hollowed-out innards drank up the shadows. “He could be.”

“He’s not,” Ritsu insisted. “It’s freezing.”

“Well that’s not a problem. Any psychic worth his salt can regulate his own temperature.” Teru paused, eyes drilling into Ritsu, mouth quirked into a smile. Teru seemed perfectly comfortable. Ritsu’s body wouldn’t stop shivering.

Ritsu glowered. He turned and banged on the wall behind him. “Gimcrack! My brother’s not in here. Get us out.”

Silence met him,

“Gimcrack!”

“You know, Kageyama, I remember an old horror story I’ve heard about a place like this.”

“Hey.” Ritsu banged his palm against the icy wall once more. The sound reverberated. “Gimcrack.”

“A meat-packer had spent 30 years of his life working in a warehouse like this one. Carving up carcasses all day. Miserable work for miserable pay. And finally one day, he had enough. He pushed a few of those palettes together, and climbed to the tallest meat hook, and hung himself from it.”

Teru’s phone flashlight meandered behind Ritsu, throwing gruesome shadows against the wall Ritsu faced, the forms of bodies hung, stretched and beveled, taut on chains. Ritsu shut his eyes, bowed his head, and banged on the wall. “Gimcrack! Get us out!”

“He cursed the warehouse when he died so that no one could ever get his corpse down. It stayed there, hanging, never rotting in the cold, watching the workers until they were driven insane.”

“I’m not listening.” Ritsu opened his eyes to darkness, stars dancing in his vision. His breath fogged, though sweat dripped from his hairline. “Help me call Gimcrack.”

“His skin became desiccated. His clothes tattered. His eyes froze over, so that the liquid inside formed crystals and tore through his corneas, making them a bright, blind, milky blue. Some workers claimed he moved in the night. Others said he watched you. When he was in the very best of moods, the corpse smiled.”

“Dammit. God dammit Gimcrack. I won’t pay you! Hanazawa, help.”

“And then the warehouse closed down, and he was left there in the darkness and emptiness, finally allowed to rot. But he was lonely. So he was happy, very happy, one day when a group of curious kids broke into the warehouse and visited him. They couldn’t see him in the dark, so he had to wait for their flashlights. He prepared his best grin, his flesh all rotted. And finally, they—“

“Hanazawa.”

“—swung their light just a bit higher—“

Ritsu turned, eyes to Teru. “Shut up okay? I’m trying t—“

“Until they could… greet… his… happy… face…”

Teru snapped his phone to the top corner of the warehouse, light yanked with it, and Ritsu’s eyes followed too.

Someone stared down from the ceiling.

Piercing eyes, a wide grin stretching desiccated skin, cheeks carved out in deep shadows, body slung beneath it. The body jerked. Its head snapped to Ritsu. Its grin widened.

Ritsu gave a hollow gasp. He stumbled back, stomach bottoming out, back slamming into the wall which he crumpled down. His eyes locked to the grin that—

Teru was laughing.

Teru was howling, in fact.

Ritsu shined his own flashlight to the corner, illuminating a pig body coated in yellow aura. The aura vanished, and the pig flopped down, falling back with a sickening smack against the other pigs stacked high. Teru’s laughter echoed, mirthful to tears, from the far walls.

“Seriously?!” Ritsu swung his light to Teru.

“You should see your face,” Teru said, doubled over and wheezing with his hands to his knees. His phone light jittered with his wheezing chuckles, eating at the shadows on the floor. “Hang on hang on hang on.” He rose tall, held the phone up, grin wide and sickeningly satisfied. The light flashed. “Okay okay I took a picture. Hang on I’m sending it to you it’s great!”

“Hanazawa!”

“I got you. You shoulda seen—you—Aah!—and then back—smashed right into the wall! Oh I should have been recording!”

Ritsu’s anger iced over. His eyes shot behind Teru.

“Hanazawa.”

“I thought you—oh this picture! Oh I love this picture! Wallpaper, definitely. You just—Ahh!! Your face is like—“

“Idiot, duck!”

“—Oh, spooky! You--! Huh?”

“Duck,” Ritsu shouted.

A moment of pained confusion passed, until a low grumble shook Ritsu’s bones. Understanding snapped, and Teru threw himself to the floor, just before a creature, squealing and massive and bulbously tumored raked through the air Teru’s head had occupied. It careened forward, a globby filthy dripping monster five times as massive as the carcasses in the warehouse, and yet distinctly swine-like in its form. It dove next for Ritsu, who jumped from its path with far more grace.

“You idiot!” Ritsu shouted, head snapping to Teru, finger pointing to the rampaging beast. “You pissed it off!”

Teru watched from the floor, stunned. He patted at the ground, then his pocket, then the ground again. “Where’d my phone go?”

“I don’t know!” Ritsu yelled. He flattened himself against the wall as the swine dove again, and then Ritsu chased after it, feet pumping, flashlight bouncing out the path ahead of him. He leapt onto a palette, hurdling corpses as he raced to catch up with the creature.

Ritsu readied a lash of energy in his free hand and shot it out. It arced like a sickle, violet and razor sharp. It nicked the monster’s hind leg and then kept spinning, slashing through hung carcasses, slicing flesh and bone that rained to the ground.

Ritsu did not let up. He unleashed another shot, and another, near deaf to the squelch of flesh shredded and shorn. Only about a third of his shots hit the massive bulbous oozing green monster, the rest flung wild into chains and wall, palettes and flesh. It was enough to earn the pig’s ire. It reared back. Its eyes were replaced by tumorous growths, but its massive snout twitched, gnashing molars bared, and it shot dead center for Ritsu.

Ritsu steadied his ground. Heart pounding, he readied a burst of energy in his palm, dense and spring-coiled tight. He waited out the seconds, heart-pounding, until the creature lunged. And Ritsu released the shot from his palm.

The recoil knocked Ritsu off balance, snapping awake the old injury of his dislocated shoulder. He hissed, but kept his eyes focused, trained to the shot that exploded, and connected, and carved out a hole through the center of the beast. It let out a ghastly squeal, loud enough to shake the walls, rattle the chains into a symphony of disquiet as it crashed into the ground. Ritsu readied a coil of rope, eyes alight. His body moved naturally. The energy soaking through him was like nothing he knew before.

He knelt over the creature, which writhed and snapped but did not get up, and Ritsu coiled the rope around its snout, rendering it defenseless. He set his palm to the thing’s throat, and he felt it again, that sickly honey-sweet fear that pulsed off the creature as a form of energy. It was dense as it filled Ritsu, cold as the locker. He breathed in deeper as the thing beneath his palm withered dry. Its tumorous skin pruned like leather, until its form decayed down to bones, and then nothing but wispy tendrils that passed through Ritsu’s fingers. Ritsu exhaled, mind clearer, body thrumming with absorbed energy. He relaxed, and stood, and swung his light to Teru.

Teru stood a few feet back, watching with sharp eyes. When the beam struck his face, he gave a quick expression of disgust, tongue out and lip curled.

“You’re welcome,” Ritsu said as he walked past. He set his eyes again to the wall.

“Hey, this is your freak show. I’m here for the entertainment.” Teru came up beside Ritsu, leaning casually against the wall Ritsu banged against. “And apparently you’re here for the snacks.”

“Gimcrack! It was a spirit. We killed it.” Ritsu banged again, listening for a response. “Should I just blast us out of here?”

“I’ve never been a huge fan of pork. How’d it taste? Chewy?”

“Do you ever absorb the spirits?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Does a healthy person need blood transfusions?” Teru ran a hand through his hair, snagging on a few iced-over locks.

“…It’s a good source of energy. Try it.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, sure. And Gimcrack’s a good ally.”

Ritsu slammed his fist once more and then lowered his hand. “Where’d he go…?”

“We could always call up your mommy and daddy to come pick us up.”

“You’re hilarious,” Ritsu answered. He stepped away from the wall and swung his flashlight in search of another exit. “And of course we can’t, because they don’t know I’m gone, because that’s the point.”

“Great parents.”

“What about yours huh? They just—what—let you get away with all this shit? Or do they just so sincerely not give a shit about you that there’s no point in you hiding anything?”

“Ha.” Teru crossed his arms and leaned his back entirely against the freezer wall. “I don’t live with them, so I’m in no rush to get out of here. You seem stressed though.”

“Where do they live?”

“Around.”

Ritsu moved to the adjacent wall, side-stepping palettes to run his beam along the metal in search of a different door. “Why don’t you live with them? Did they get sick of you?”

“How long do you think you have until your parents notice you missing, Kageyama? Hopefully they’d be a bit quicker to the draw than they were with your brother.”

“No.” Ritsu made it to the far wall. His skimmed his fingers along the surface. “They’d never notice, in fact. I didn’t want to risk them realizing I snuck out, so I left Makeshift and Slipshod behind with orders to possess them if they came to check on me.”

“…You what?”

“Gimcrack did it once before, possessing my mom. It works.”

The wall in front of Ritsu beveled, shifting to an ashy violet. Gimcrack’s face oozed out of it. “Did I hear my name?”

“God fuck—there you are!” Ritsu threw his arms out, flashlight arcing wide across the ceiling.

“Ooh, spooky place.”

“I’ve been calling you!”

“Hey hey hey chill huh? I’m here. Just wanted to make sure you dealt with that porker beast before I showed my face, you dig?” Gimcrack gestured to himself. “Can’t risk hurting the merchandise.”

Ritsu fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He flicked it open, time glowing bright along its blue screen. The next bus was in 15 minutes. “Just get us out of here.”

“Roger,” Gimcrack replied, grabbing Ritsu’s shoulder and drenching him with that same icy nothing. Ritsu felt as though the floor had dropped from under him, but he steeled himself, breath held, and moved forward. He stepped through the wall, appearing on the other side of the warehouse which was hidden deeper in shadow than the parking lot side.

“Hey, Hanazawa, you coming?” Gimcrack’s voice came muffled through the wall. Ritsu coughed out a breath, and once again dropped to his knees, too numb to stand. His fingers curled in the dewy grass, and he willed sensation to return.  “Heyo, you, Blondie. What? Giving me the cold shoulder now? That’s my job, heh. Get it?”

Ritsu got one foot beneath him. He tested his weight against it. His knee shook, but he was able to rise slowly, shivering the sting of ice out of his body. He hobbled forward a step, then another into the grass, ankles brushing cold through the dew.

“Hanazawa!” Ritsu called over his shoulder, eyes set to the warehouse. His fingers trailed over the phone in his pocket, feeling the seconds tick away, the bus coming nearer. “Come on. What are you doing?”

“Well then ease up your shoulders or something then, okay? I can’t phase you if you don’t let me. Just relax your face. Come on, give me a smile.”

The wall blew.

An explosion of light and power clapped against Ritsu’s ears. He let out a yell, stumbling back, hands over his ears as he squinted, staring at the fading rush of yellow aura that had blasted through the metal siding. Alarms shrieked overhead, and Teru appeared like a ghost, pale once more under the moonlight as he stepped through the settling rubble. Ritsu stared, dumbfounded, at the hole. Gimcrack floated out, visibly shaken.

Teru walked past Ritsu, brushing himself off. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped it on before burying his face in the blue light.

“What the hell was that?” Ritsu asked, stumbling slightly to catch up.

“We’re finished here. The alarms don’t matter anymore. I could have blasted us out at any time.” Teru refused to face Ritsu. He quickened his pace, and Ritsu fell into quiet step behind him. Ritsu looked behind him, watching the warehouse fade away, the sirens drop off, until only a ringing in his ear remained. He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers, feeling the buzz of newly collected energy beneath them.

“Piece of work, that kid…” Gimcrack muttered from Ritsu’s side. His eyes shifted to Ritsu, and he nudged his shoulder. “Anyway, payment for tonight.”

Ritsu conjured a crystal above his palm, now tainted green, murky in the darkness. He flicked it unceremoniously in Gimcrack’s direction, and then quickened his pace to keep up with Teru.

Five minutes of their walk passed in silence. Only then, when Ritsu looked around and saw himself, Teru, and no one else—only then did it occur to Ritsu that this mission had been a failure.

…

Mob woke up alone.

And it was an absence he could feel trickling to his core. He lay in bed, eyes open, suffocating in the nothingness around him, deafened in its silence. He stared blind at the ceiling. His body was tucked beneath the covers of his bed. A small hint of moonlight filtered in. He waited frozen, afraid to leave the bed, because he was afraid of being alone.

Slowly, with dread weighing heavy on his chest, Mob sat up. The covers pooled in his lap, and he buried his hands in the warmth. He listened, a quiet ringing nothingness settling on his ears. No snoring from the next room, no hushed babbling on the phone, no tinny television noise filtering through the door. It was an empty house. A dead house.

“Reigen…?”

Mob rose, shuffling out of the blankets. He set a ginger toe to the floor, soft carpeting molding beneath his feet. He worried the end of his braid, finger twisting through the lock of hair bound together at the end with Reigen’s rubber band. He waited. He breathed. Nothing answered.

He walked to the bedroom door. It creaked open under his touch, giving out to a hallway just as dim as his room. He waited. He listened.

“Reigen…?”

Nothing. Mob tugged harder on his braid, heartrate quickening. He’d known something had been wrong the moment he said Shishou’s name. No worse, he’d already known Reigen would be angry, and he said it anyway. He admitted to killing Shishou, and now Reigen was gone. Reigen had claimed nothing was wrong. He’d collected himself, and patted Mob’s head, and told Mob it had been a long day. Go get washed up for bed. Go sleep. He’d handle the mess in the kitchen.

Mob walked toward the kitchen. He tugged harder on his hair, feet tripping over the hem of the sweatpants Reigen had bought for him. He paused and flicked on the light. Brightness flooded down, too bright, that Mob had to squint and shield his eyes. When he looked through his fingers, he found the floor clean. The milk and cake put away. The dishes washed and drying.

“Reigen?”

Alone.

Mob turned and walked toward the couch. He eyed the television, and then the large bay window behind it. The light from the kitchen reflected loud and fuzzy against it, casting Mob’s dark silhouette against it. He looked, seeking out what he didn’t want to see. Mob put a hand out, stretching far, skimming through the air.

He couldn’t touch it. He never could. It always spread away, far from the tips of his fingers, so that he could never feel its cut. But it was there, dim and buzzing and swirling blue. He saw it in front of him. He saw it in the reflection, a gossamer bubble ringing his body.

Mob whimpered slightly. He pulled his hands in and hugged his arm. Reigen was gone. The barrier was back.

He didn’t want to check Reigen’s bedroom.

His feet moved anyway, even when Mob knew he didn’t want to see what lay beyond. Shishou’s withered face flashed through his mind, hanging body, hollow black eyes. Mob had done something to make Shishou hang himself, and now he. Again. Waking to the quiet. Feeling nothing. No presence. Alone. Alone again. Again he—

Mob turned the knob to Reigen’s room. Tears budded behind his eyes, his breathing harsh and fast. He opened the door. He didn’t want to see.

Mob looked anyway.

Nothing.

A rush of breath escaped from his lips, a relief so immediate his legs nearly buckled. Mob took a moment to collect himself. He dropped down onto the carpet and sat there, staring forward, looking above the bed. There was no hanging body. Just an empty room. Reigen had not killed himself.

Mob dug his fingers into the carpet, letting a few relieved breaths slip from his mouth. He collected himself, and pushed himself standing, and held on to the frame of the doorway. Mob turned where he stood, eyes set to the front door. He moved from carpet to tile, bare feet beating cold against the linoleum.

He grabbed the front door, and after a moment of hesitation he opened it. Cold air rushed over his face, the sound of passing cars in the distance, the buzz of the streetlamps surrounding the complex. Mob took a tentative step out onto the wooden stairway.

“Reigen? Please? Are you out here?”

Mob glanced down. Reigen’s car was gone. He worried his fingers together.

Still, Mob descended the steps. Still, he had to try. He made every motion conscious of his barrier. Averse to the touch of anything, paranoid eyes peeled for the slightest movement. He was dangerous again. He was deadly again. But he had to do something to help. This was his fault.

He moved down the driveway, gravel sticking between his toes, and the world felt open and hostile again. His nerve edged away quickly. The world was so huge—he’d forgotten. It wasn’t just Shishou’s house anymore. It was the whole of everything. Reigen could have gone anywhere. Mob’s paces slowed to a trickle. There was maybe nothing he could do.

He waited. He hesitated.

And something burst from the bushes.

It flashed into Mob’s field of vision, a blur of color fast and smooth. His eyes shot wide. Mob stumbled back. Couldn’t hurt—Couldn’t touch—He let out a strangled cry and folded in. He pulled, pulled away. Couldn’t touch. Couldn’t hurt. Couldn’t kill. Not anymore. Not again. No more.

Reigen had trained him.

He could at least.

The sound of shearing fur raked against his ears. Mob’s eyes shot wider, glassy, stomach dropping at the familiar noise of destruction. He dropped low onto his haunches and buried his face in his hands, too terrified for words, or even sounds. Small breathless gasps slipped through his fingers.

And with the gasps, Mob felt the texture of fur slip through his fingers as well.

He raised his head, and stared at his palms through tear-swimming eyes. He saw no blood, no mangled body, only the feathery form of hair strands streaked through his fingers. Mob moved his hands out of the way, and found snippets of hair littered across the ground, blowing in the wind.

He looked higher, and a single white cat stood across from him, tail flicking, paw swiping at its ear. It considered Mob for a moment before rising up and sauntering off down the road.

He hadn’t hit it. For the second time, he hadn’t hit something.

In wonder, Mob focused on the barrier. It was denser, swirled faster and harsher, an angry red, and it hovered only an inch or so from his nose. He’d pulled it in. Concentrated, angry and aggressive, he’d at least managed to pull it in.

Mob eased a fraction, and the barrier spread back out. But it listened. For the first time since it appeared, it listened.

His right hand rose, seeking to grab the end of the braid and finding nothing. The absence startled him, and so Mob searched further, feeling out his hair. Some locks still hung to his shoulder, others had shorn short. Uneven, scraggly, his bangs had been taken at an angle.

Mob retreated, beating back up the steps and shutting the door behind him. He moved as though possessed, feet taking him to the bathroom where he flicked the light on. Brightness caught, and Mob stared at the boy in the mirror.

Messy, mangled, awkwardly cut and uneven. His hair must have whipped around when he heard the cat, spinning wide when he yanked the barrier in. The rubber band had been taken. The braid had unraveled, leaving a shorter mess of poorly chopped hair.

He grabbed the edge of the sink and breathed. His mind hadn’t caught up yet. Too much had happened. Too close of a call. And Reigen was gone. And Shishou was dead. And his barrier was back and—

Mob looked up again at the mirror, and he was haunted there by the look of a boy he almost remembered. He reached out and touched his fingertips to the mirror. The cheeks were shallower, the eyes more hollow, but it was a face he almost remembered. He remembered this face. This one. As though he were still the same person underneath it all. And maybe he could be. Maybe he was.

Mob tightened his grip on the sink. His breathing calmed. He watched his eyes, and willed them to belong to the boy who never knew about barriers or basements or cockroaches skittering in the night.

He couldn’t do that. Those things were a part of him. But he realized, staring into his own eyes, they were becoming less a part of him…. He wasn’t there anymore. Not in the basement. Not with Shishou. Not with rats and not with soup and not with the barrier cutting every chance of touch. He was at Reigen’s house, and Reigen was different, and Reigen was making him different.

Mob’s shoulders slumped, and he eased down onto the plush shower mat beneath his feet. He held his legs in and watched the barrier dance through the air. He pulled once, experimentally, and it yielded to his touch, beveling closer.

Mob released it, and eased, and breathed. There was nothing he could do now except hope that Reigen was different. Hope that Reigen wasn’t like Shishou.

Hope that Reigen was coming back.

(Chapter 25 [AO3])