#sorry if I got any details wrong! it’s been a few months since I read the fic!

[pepperpixel]

Some art of Tori from @misfitmccoward ‘s Naruto fic Plasticity! Because!! It’s such a good fucking fic…! I had to do fanart for it!! honestly after I first read it I was so fucking hype about it that I was almost like “omg.. I have to do an animatic or something for this. it’s SO GOOD” but. My ability to do animatics has kinda flushed down the drain recently ghghg- But! Still!! I had to at least draw some fanart for it…!

[python333]

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies. 

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook. 

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted. 

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything. 

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him. 

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed. 

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies. 

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first. 

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died. 

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn. 

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm. 

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck. 

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in. 

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics. 

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here? 

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you. 

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them. 

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline. 

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly. 

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat. 

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you? 

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge. 

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired. 

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to. 

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite. 

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air. 

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything? 

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something. 

That’s Ghost. 

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing. 

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you. 

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold. 

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door. 

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky. 

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again. 

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused. 

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise. 

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly. 

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on. 

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out. 

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions. 

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying. 

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so. 

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth. 

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

— 

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago. 

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling. 

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open. 

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks. 

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk. 

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.” 

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.” 

“You get asked that often?” 

“I only get asked that by you.” 

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?” 

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat. 

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?” 

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].” 

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it. 

“Then stop trying to sass me.” 

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.” 

“Isn’t that what you are, though?” 

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.” 

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.” 

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up. 

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.” 

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down. 

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.” 

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed. 

“You’re too stubborn.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly. 

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder. 

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.” 

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.” 

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.” 

“Well…”

“Well, what?” 

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—” 

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.” 

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk. 

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—” 

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him. 

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?” 

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation. 

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.” 

“… No you’re not?” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly. 

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.  

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.” 

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him. 

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?” 

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!” 

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!” 

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.” 

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.” 

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.” 

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.” 

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.” 

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.” 

“You find them funny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.” 

“Some of them are pretty funny.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“The Mayflower one.” 

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?” 

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?” 

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?” 

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?” 

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything. 

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips. 

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin. 

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go. 

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.” 

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.” 

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…” 

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.” 

“Good to know,” You nod. 

“But that’s only a hypothetical.” 

“Right, yeah, of course.” 

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.” 

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed. 

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.” 

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude. 

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

[matan4il]

Update post:

Today is the 180th day of the war. Almost 6 months since the Hamas massacre started this war. And still, when I came across a video clip of TV announcers broadcasting on Oct 7, 2023 and I heard the words, "hundreds of Israelis have been killed" (even as I know that the number was actually greater than that, something that took time to confirm back in October), it still felt like it just happened, like it's still hard to believe it's real, and not a nightmare that we might wake up from any moment now.

A combined terrorist attack (vehicular and then stabbing) took place over night. A 26 years old Arab man drove his car into 4 policemen, injuring them, one initially was in a serious condition. The terrorist then drove on, stopped by another group of police personnel, where he got out of the car and tried stabbing them. He was neutralized.

Obviously, everyone in Israel has heard about the aid workers killed in Gaza. IDK yet how it happened, what the details are, we're all waiting to hear, just like other fair-minded people are (I'm not talking about the anti-Israel crowd, who have made up their minds before the incident even happened, they come pre-programmed with the belief that everything wrong is both Israel's fault and intentional). For now, it looks like a huge, tragic mistake, based on misidentification in the middle of the night (such mistakes sadly happen. The accidental death of 3 Israeli hostages in broad daylight was an example that it does, and other "friendly fire" incidents that have happened to Israeli soldiers are another. That's war, there's tragically no army with zero mistakes on its record). I am SO sorry for the innocent people killed, and their loved ones. I feel for them, for their pain and loss.

That said, how do I know it wasn't intentional? For one thing, because World Central Kitchen is actually one of the few humanitarian aid organizations that tried to help both Palestinians and Israelis. Which is one reason Israel very much wanted WCK to be a major factor in aiding people in Gaza in the long run, not just during the war, and the last thing it would want, is for these workers to be hurt, and for this organization to stop working there. The other thing is that we know an incident like this might provide enough international pressure to force Israel to stop the war, while our hostages are still held in the hands of brutal rapist terrorists, and while Hamas still exists, and threatens more massacres like the one we saw on Oct 7. What logical country would sacrifice the safety of its 9.8 million citizens (and the 8.4 million non-citizens it sees itself as responsible for, too) just in order to kill 7 random people, who were perceived as helping it, and who aren't even a part of the group that supposedly this country is targeting? It's not a logical call to make. Anyone who thinks Israel did this intentionally, is treating the Jewish state as if it's a comic book evil villain. I wonder why. When a humanitarian aid airdrop accidentally killed at least 5 Palestinians, and at least 18 were killed during another, I don't remember that anyone was quick to say it was intentional without so much as an investigation, or that those responsible for it must be stopped, rather than that they must study what went wrong, and continue while taking precautions that it won't happen again.

In Belgium, a home for Holocaust survivors has been vandalized with supposedly pro-Palestinian graffiti, reading "Gaza free" and followed by a swastika. This is pure antisemitism, very thinly veiled.

Here's a reminder that if Hamas is allowed to continue existing, and ruling Gaza as a dictatorship, that's not just a threat to the lives of Israeli and Jews, it's also horrible news for Palestinians. IDF soldiers found in Gaza documents that reveal how Hamas had tortured and brutally executed one of its own commanders back in 2016, based on the accusation that he's gay. Anyone who claims to be pro-Palestinian, but is silent about the human rights abuses that Palestinian suffer at the hands of their own leadership, is not that at all, they're just exploiting the Palestinians to demonize Jews.

This is 22 years old Dor Almog (right) and his best friend, Amit.

Amit invited him to the Nova music festival, but he had to miss most of it due to an exam he had. Dor planned to study, and then join his friend at the end of the party, but he fell asleep, and was woken up by the sirens alerting everyone about the thousands of Hamas rockets fired at Israel at 6:30 in the morning. "That was the last time I saw Amit," Dor said about the moment his best friend left for the party. "We've been friends since the age of zero." Amit went to the party and was murdered by Hamas terrorists. Dor and the rest of Amit's friends decided to get his tattoo on their body, and that at some point they would travel to India, which was his dream that he didn't get to fulfil. Dor fought to be called for reserves duty in Gaza. He's the only soldier who survived the deadliest incident there, in which 21 Israeli young men were killed, the last operation his unit was supposed to be a part of, before being discharged. When the explosion took place, he was in a building that collapsed, he fell two floors, and the building crashed over him. "I smiled, because I thought I was about to die, and be with Amit again. But then I literally saw a light at the end of a tunnel, and started crawling there." He was kept in a coma for 5 days, to help his body cope, and only 2 days after he woke up, was he told the news about what happened to his friends in the unit. "That was the real blow." When asked about being a hero, he said, "I'll be that when I get back on my feet."

May Amit's memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[hero-israel]

Hi, if you don't mind answering, I have a question regarding Israel. I figured any Jewish person in Israel or not probably knows better than I could guess after occasionally reading Tumblr for a couple of months. What do you think is right/wrong about the Israel government, what should it be like and what should it do now? I would be thankful if you could answer.

Some context, if it makes any difference why I'm asking: I'm Ukrainian, and I was surprised first time I saw people comparing Israel with russia. It felt wrong to me from the start, cause it made more sense to compare terrorists with terrorists instead. Western leftists seem ignorant and delusional to argue with them, but I also saw this opinion from some Ukrainians on twitter, so I got interested to learn a bit more to get proper arguments against this comparison. Then I learned that quite a lot of Jewish people here are against current actions of the Israel government in Gaza, which at first looked strange to me cause it's a very different situation from what we have in Ukraine. I figured that Jewish people are the best source to learn "what's wrong with Israel government" without being flooded by conspiracy theories. I support Israel, but I don't want to support things that most of you guys actually disagree with. And another thing, personally I don't see how it's possible to get rid of hamas without harming civilians in Gaza, but I saw here Jewish people arguing that both Palestinian and Israeli civilians shouldn't be harmed. That's why I asked a few people on Tumblr what they think Israel should do to get some opinions, though perhaps my question among attacks was seen as an attack too. So this time I add this long clarification, sorry about that 😅

Thank you for the insight - I particularly appreciate hearing what this sounds like from Ukrainians as they face their own crisis.

I support actions that protect Jewish lives and Jewish rights, everywhere in the world, including in Israel. I want governments moral enough and strong enough to do that, everywhere, including in Israel. Sadly, Israel is really fucking it up for the last year.

No one should be happy with what is happening in Gaza. It is an appalling humanitarian disaster, exactly as Hamas planned it would be. Once they were able to stage their attack, Israel had no choice but to invade; to have done anything other than invade would have sent a message to all their enemies that they would just lie back and take it, and that is a message they cannot afford to send.

The current Israeli government is one of the most ultra-right-wing, revolting, criminal, and incompetent out of any democratic nation in the world. Their stupidity made the Hamas attack possible. Benjamin Netanyahu has been PM forever and kept winning elections because despite his ugly, crooked personality, he was good at the job, good from economic and diplomatic perspectives, and avoided major change with the Palestinians. As he stayed in office longer and got more crooked with age, his scandals and campaign crimes piled up until it really looked like he could face prison for it. For a cruelly, tantalizingly brief period, the more forward-thinking elements of Israeli society were able to oust the far-right parties, but eventually that fell apart for the dumbest and most aggravating reason ever and Netanyahu was able to come back. This time he boosted up fringe ultra-right-wing candidates who were too extreme to function in a "real" government but who promised to help him change laws so he wouldn't go to jail. The actual process of changing those laws - transparently to end the investigations of the MULTIPLE indicted or convicted criminals in this government - tore Israeli society apart. People were warning for MONTHS that military readiness was plummeting. The Hamas attack plan had been known since around 2015 and an even more detailed version surfaced last year. They were all just too busy working to legalize crime and settle old scores than on watching the border where the genocidal fascist militia lives.

I don't know what the proper plan at this point is. After 3 months, I'm still very much emotionally stuck on "what you are supposed to do is PREVENT THIS, YOU IDIOTS, THAT IS YOUR JOB, AND NOT A HARD ONE." I don't think I will ever get past that, it was so obvious and I had been losing sleep all year fully expecting something like this to happen. Within the first few weeks after the attack, I saw a message from former PM Naftali Bennett about how it would be relatively quick and easy to flood all the Gaza tunnels with seawater and that would solve the problem; kill off Hamas troops, destroy their weapons, collapse their bases. Clearly they haven't done that yet. Does that mean it can't be done? If it can be done, then I lean towards thinking the current campaign should go on until it is done. If it can't be done, then I'd like to hear exactly what the goal of this incursion is and how long they expect it to last. Are they going to kill 30,000 people in the course of disarming and expelling Hamas? Or are they going to kill 30,000 people and Hamas will still be a recognizable threat anyway? If it's the latter, why kill all those people, why not stop now? When do they stop? Those are fair questions.

Basically all Jews "support Israel," insofar as they want it to keep existing as a Jewish state. Basically all Jews who support Israel also truly have no ill will toward Palestinians. They see Palestinians' problems as being less severe than the problems Jews have faced, historically and recently, and not worth the risks to Jews if an Israel did not exist. They believe in peace and want there to be a two-state solution, either because they really want a better life for Palestinians or because they want to stop feeling vaguely guilty about the occupation, or a mix of both.

I hope this was in any way helpful and regret that I couldn't be more precise about what the future plan should be.

[keiththecat]

The Tortoise and The Hair

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've been hunting with the Winchester brothers for a while, and you've developed feelings for the older Winchester. Unbeknownst to you, he has feelings for you as well. Will you both admit to these feelings when a coincidence brings emotions to a head?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, cursing, male nudity (shower), pistol mention, knife mention

Author's Note: This is my first every fanfic! Y/N is your name, y/h/c is your hair color, and italics are thoughts. The mentions toward male nudity are not super detailed, but the mentions are there. Feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

AO3 link here

"You've got to be kidding me." You run your hands through your hair in frustration.

"Sorry, Y/N, looks like another day without a hunt," Sam continues scrolling on his laptop, hoping he can find something to prove himself wrong, even if just to make you happy.

"There's got to be something. Come on, Sam, I can't be stuck here in the bunker again."

It's been weeks without a hunt. Not a single one. Sam has kept busy with research, but you've been itching to get away. Chuck only knows what Dean's been doing, he's been avoiding you every second of every day. You've even been starting to wonder if you should move out of the bunker and go back to your solo hunting ways. Your stuff is always mostly packed, you could be out of here in less than 3 minutes. Sam being like the brother you never had is the only reason you haven't yet. Well, that and your crush on the older Winchester.

"Y/N," Sam sighs, closing his laptop and crossing his arms on top of the table to look at you seriously. "There's more to this than just boredom, isn't there?"

You scoff, "of course not. I'm just bored. And itching for kills. You know me." You lie through your teeth, hoping Sam will accept this answer and drop it.

"Y/N, you know you can talk to me."

You stare at each other for several painful seconds before you break. "Fine. I just feel like Dean hates me."

Sam places his hand on yours. "You know that's not true. Why would you think that?"

You roll your eyes. "Come on, Sam. He avoids me at all costs. He doesn't even come out for meals together anymore. Let alone not talking to me, he doesn't even talk to you if I'm around! He just motions for you to follow him to another room. You can't honestly say he's happy I'm here." You get up to start walking away when you both hear Dean's yell from down the hall.

"Son of a BITCH!"

With one look at Sam and panic in your eyes, you both take off running.

*

A few moments earlier....

Dean:

Another boring day. Alone. Ever since you moved in months ago, Dean just can't seem to bring himself to have any one night stands. He tries his best not to ignore why that is. He'll just keep avoiding you and quietly checking with Sam about what's going on, if there are any leads on hunts, how you're doing...

No. He doesn't want to spiral down this hole again. He can't follow through. Bad things happen when he and Sam get involved with anyone. He won't subject you to that. Maybe if he keeps avoiding you, you'll get sick of it and leave the bunker, minimizing your risk of being targeted because of them. He's upset enough that Sam refuses to do the same, instead being nice to you all the time. Hell, you and Sam are practically inseparable, you even have movie nights together.

Maybe he can make his feelings for you go away if he avoids you enough. He can stop thinking about how you light up a room when you laugh, instantly making his mood brighter. Or how your cooking always smells the most delicious, even the most simple foods weave a decadent smell throughout the halls. Or how you're always waiting at the bottom of the stairs after the brothers run for supplies, smile on your face and arms wide open to hug Sam.

Maybe if I stop ignoring her, I could fall into those arms, hold her close, smell that enticing perfume of hers up close...

Somehow you've managed to integrate yourself into every aspect of his life, despite his attempts to keep you out. He's constantly finding your post-it notes with cute doodles in the most random of spots, inside kitchen cabinets and books that have been untouched for months. He even found one under the sink one day, a stick figure drawing wearing a trench coat, an arrow pointing from the word baby to the figure. Sam had to explain that one to Castiel, who then laughed and asked you excitedly if he could keep it.

He shakes his head and runs his hand down his face, as if that will clear the thoughts.

I need to think of annoying things about her. Reasons to keep my distance. Come on, there's got to be something.

And then it hit him. Your hair. Your beautiful, y/h/c hair that he would love to run his fingers through. No, not beautiful, he reminds himself, annoying. It's everywhere, even in rooms you don't frequent, even in rooms he's sure you've never been in.

He'll just have to hang on to this annoyance until he can think of more. If he can manage to think of more. This is useless, he sighs, grabbing his things to take a shower. At least I know I can waste time relaxing with a hot shower and not run into her there. He double checks to make sure the coast is clear in the hallway before heading toward the shower room, hearing muffled voices further down the hall but assuming it's you, busy helping Sam with research.

He gets to the shower room and sets up his things. He turns on the hot water, and steam starts filling the room immediately. He undresses, stepping under the water and letting the heat relax his muscles, tense from his endless debate about his feelings. He grabs his soap bar and starts cleaning, but he feels a tug when he starts to clean his member. Confused, he looks down, finding a long hair knotted around his most sensitive part.

He yanks on the hair, finding it stuck. He yanks harder, feeling a small sting followed by relief with the tension breaks the hair. With the hair pinched between his fingers, he brings it up closer to look at it under the light. He assumed it would be one of Sam's. They mix up their clothes in the laundry sometimes, it would make sense for it to be Sam's hair. But no, luck has never been on Dean's side. The hair is very distinctly from your head.

How did her hair even manage to get there? Damn it, I can't even escape her here... By myself... In the shower... When I haven't been around her for weeks.

He feels the frustration building and his fists clenching. Frustration at not being able to avoid you, at not truly wanting to avoid you, at his member having some semblance of contact with you but nowhere near the contact he desires. It builds and builds until he explodes, "Son of a BITCH!"

*

Y/N:

Sam rushes ahead of you toward Dean's yell, pistol already in his hands and raised by the time you both reach the shower room, ready for whatever fight he may find. You have a silver blade in your hand, fists raised, eyes scanning for a threat.

"What? What is it, Dean?" Sam asks urgently, not seeing any outward threats to everyone's safety. Dean spins around at the intrusion, eyes widening. You swear you see panic in his eyes when they connect with yours, then Dean frantically grabs his towel, wrapping it around his waist to hide his lower half. You try your hardest to stay focused and not get distracted by his bare chest.

"What is it? Look at it!" Dean yells at Sam, shoving his right hand toward Sam's face, thumb and pointer finger pinched together.

Sam slowly lowers his gun, looking between Dean's hand and his eyes several times in disbelief. "You yelled about a hair??"

"Look at it!" Dean insists, "it's hers!" He gestures toward you with his hand, still holding the pinched hair.

You furrow your brow, "so? It's just a hair? I have a lot of it. I'm sure that's not the only one in here."

"It wasn't just in here. It was wrapped around my head!" Dean yells.

You and Sam look at each other, shrugging. "I fail to see the issue here," the younger Winchester states.

"You know," Dean continued, "my head." He emphasizes the last word with a gesture toward his lower half.

You and Sam look at each other again, eyebrows raised, then Sam throws his head back and bursts into laughter. You lock your eyes back on Dean, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Dean's face is red with anger and what you think might be a touch of embarrassment. "Sammy, it's not funny. It was knotted and I had to pull it! What if it did any damage?"

"Oh, well Chuck forbid my hair do damage to your most prized possession," you mumble under your breath. Sam hears you, making him laugh even harder, doubling over and wiping his eyes.

"What did you say?" Dean asks, dropping his hand and, finally, the hair.

"Nothing," you say, looking away.

"That's it. Sammy, grab her. We're shaving her head," Dean threatens, taking a half step toward you.

"Dean, come on," Sam says, still lightly laughing. "You have to admit, it's kind of funny."

"Is it, Sammy? It's bad enough I can't stop thinking about her all the-" Dean stops himself, slamming his mouth shut.

Your jaw drops. You swear time stops. Have you been wrong this whole time? Could it be possible he has feelings for you too?

Dean quickly leaves, while you stand there frozen in shock. Sam watches his brother go, then turns to you, "you okay?"

"He likes me too, doesn't he, Sam?"

Sam just looks at you silently for a moment, then puts a hand on your shoulder. "I swore I'd never say anything. He thinks he's helping to protect you. He's... not good at this kind of thing."

You're in shock. Or dreaming. There's no other logical explanation. You're thrilled because he likes you too, but also heartbroken that he thinks this is protecting you. You, a hunter for your entire life, who did it all by herself until running into the Winchesters, who took down vampire nests and demons and everything inbetween with minimal or no injuries, are seen as weak in his eyes?

Leaving Sam behind, you storm down the hall to Dean's bedroom door and pound on it several times. "Go away, Sam," you hear through the door.

"It's me. We need to talk."

After several long seconds, you resign yourself to accepting he's not going to open it. Just as you're getting ready to leave, it opens just enough to reveal Dean, stone faced and fully dressed, wet hair sticking up at odd angles.

"Can I come in?" You ask. He wordlessly opens the door a fraction more and steps to the side for you to enter.

You walk past him a few steps and turn toward him as he closes the door. "I know you're better with actions than with words, so I'm gonna talk and I just want you to listen, okay? I'm not weak. I don't need you to protect me. I can make my own choices. And I choose you. And I'm not going to pretend to know what could happen in the future. But I know that if you watch my back and I watch yours, we can handle anything this world, Heaven, or Hell could throw at us."

You slowly drift closer to him as you continue, "I won't pretend to know every little thing about you, but I do know you, Dean. I know how loyal you are. And how you will always put yourself in harm's way to protect those you care about. How you blame yourself for every loss. How you like to sit outside on quiet nights and look at the stars, enjoying the peace that has been so rare in your life."

You're in his space now, and you reach up to place your hand on his cheek. He leans into your hand, closing his eyes. "I don't know how to do this, Y/N."

"Me neither, Dean. But how about we take a leap of faith together and we can figure it out?"

He opens his mesmerizing green eyes, and you notice unshed tears building up in them. Then, faster than you can blink, his lips are on yours.

You always thought the cliche of seeing fireworks was just that, a cliche. But you'll be damned if you're not seeing entire light shows behind your eyelids right now. Every nerve ending in your body lights up as if on fire. Arms wrapped around each other, you and Dean are pressed so close together, not even air can pass between you. He licks your lower lip, asking permission, and you open without hesitation. Your tongues battle for dominance until you can't breathe, and you break apart, both gasping for air.

"So I guess that's it then, huh, sweetheart?" he rasps, smirking, leaning his forehead on your own.

"Guess so, tough guy. Who would have thought my hair would be the key," you laugh.

[fandom-go-round]

To Be a Songbird: Part Two

Summary: Arranged marriages are wonderful when they work and disastrous when they don’t. The funny part? You never thought that you’d be in this situation. You had always wanted to marry your betrothed and now you’re single. What a joy.

Vil x Reader x Leona

Part One ,Part Two(Here!),Part Three

Part Two! Sorry this took a second everyone, I hope you enjoy it! Let me know if you have any ideas for the final pairing

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Insecure Thoughts (Reader), Political Drama, Relationship Breakup, Implied One Sided Affection

           You never expected freedom to feel this empty and bitter. Were you questioning your position in Vil’s life? No, the limbo you were stuck in for so long is gone and it’s better that way. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less that Vil is no longer in your life and your heart aches.

           It puts you in a worse mood, then, when you get letter after letter asking to start courtship. Marriage has always been something abstract to you, especially now since you won’t be marrying Vil. To marry anyone else seems weird, even if there’s nothing wrong with it. You still want to grieve and come to terms with your feelings before thinking of someone else.

           You know that it’s not common for the upper class to marry for love and love isn’t guaranteed. But you’d at least like to marry someone you got along with, who could laugh with you and share good moments. Like Vil. At least before.

           All of this is to say that you’re torn between being annoyed and flattered with Leona Kingscholar. He looks calm as can be on the other side of the table, eyes closed and tail swaying. You glance down at the parchment and only need to read the first few sentences to realize it’s a courting contract. It’s been six months since the public announcement and you’re healing, slowly. More than anything, you’re confused.

           “I’m surprised.” You admit, pulling the papers closer. You make no move to sign and Leona doesn’t react besides half opening an eye.

           “About what part?” He doesn’t sound truly interested but since he asked you figure you might as well answer.

           “You asking to court me. Or anyone for that matter. And that you waited.” He snorts at your last comment, closing his eye again.

           “You wouldn’t have said yes.”

           “And I will now?” You try to keep the irritation out of your voice but Leona hears it and smirks.

           “You’re going to consider it. And I can guarantee it’s better than some of the other offers you’ve been getting.” You half tune him out, reading over the contract. He’s not wrong, as irritating as it is. Most of the requests for marriage have been blatant grabs for power or insulting. Some were contingent upon you being officially declared the heir to the kingdom and some had you giving all power away.

           Leona’s proposal was different. It said the two of you would enter equal courtship terms and decide other details in the future. If you agreed, you would favor treaties with Savana Sunset but there were no guarantees and nothing about claims to the throne. You read it a few times, each time slowing down as you went.

           “It’s a political downgrade.” You offered, looking up again. His eyes were still closed and he sounded bored when he spoke. You saw his hands tense, however, and knew that he was paying attention. “I’m not the heir and our kingdom is mostly in name only.”

         “I’m a prince who’s never going to get the throne, it doesn’t matter who I marry.” You hum at his answer, leaning your head into your palm.

           “And yet you want to court me, without the King’s permission I might add.” That comment got Leona to open his eyes and scoff, lips curling up. He leaned closer to you across the table and it was the first time you’d seen him this emotional.

           “I can decide my own fate. They don’t need me here and our countries don’t have strong relations. Besides, you’re trying to secure a treaty with Briar Valley, aren’t you?” You tense at his comment but Leona keeps going, smirking as he saw he caught you. “The Savana and the Valley are in good standing and an alliance with me pretty much guarantees an alliance with them.”

           “And how do you know about my alliance building?” You were honestly curious; no one tended to pay attention to a rouge almost-but-not-quite heir.

           “You’re subtle but not subtle enough.” Leona didn’t offer anything more before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. “Take it or leave it, doesn’t matter to me. Not my life to figure out.”

           You resist the urge to pinch him and look at the documents again. You don’t need to start courting. There was no pressure form your parents; they were happy to let you and your brother do whatever as long as it helped the kingdom. You’re still healing from Vil and don’t think you could love Leona, not really. You don’t need help with your treaty wit Briar Valley, all you need is more time. And yet…

           Leona is the first one to ask to be your partner on equal terms. He’s the first to pay enough attention to know what your plans are. He’s trapped, a part of you realizes, here in Savana Sunset. He’s the second prince to a country with another heir. He has magic that people have no use for and your heart pings in understanding. You ignore the quiet part that will enjoy seeing Vil’s reaction.

           “I can’t offer you love.” You take a deep breathe before speaking, closing your eyes as you think things over. When you open them, emerald green is staring back at you, bright and sharp. “I loved Vil and part of me always will, I think. I can offer companionship and partnership but I don’t know about love.” He watches you for a long moment, eyes taking in your face before he throws his head back and laughs. It’s a wonderful sound and you’re struck by the beauty of it.

           “I’m not looking for love.” Leona smirks at you. “This is political for me, nothing more and nothing less.” You smile just a little, shaking your head.

           “Don’t think you’ll get fond of me?” Your teasing is met with a scoff and he closes his eyes, body relaxed.

           “A herbivore like you? Fat chance.” You chuckle at his words, taking the pen in the middle of the table and signing your name.

           “We’ll see about that one Kingscholar.”

♥

           In all your years of visiting Sunset Savana, this is the first time you’ve seen King Falena angry. His tail is lashing around him and even though he’s keeping his tone even, you can tell that he wants to yell. Leona doesn’t care at all, leaning against the wall and watching his brother pace. There’s a hint of satisfaction and you don’t know if it’s from pissing his brother off or pulling a fast one on him.

           “This is ridiculous.” Falena is trying to stay kind and you appreciate he’s aware you’re still in the room. His wife and son watch from the other side of the room, letting the two brothers talk it out. “Leona, you know that you need to talk things like this over with me.”

           “I don’t need your permission to get married, as long as the marriage benefits the kingdom.” Leona sounds bored but Falena isn’t falling for it, shaking his head.

           “How do you think this is going to benefit the kingdom?” The question is harsh and he winces, turning to you. You take your head, giving a half smile.

           “I told him when he handed the paperwork over that it was a political downgrade.” The king looks a little relieved by your words but Leona doesn’t give him to chance to respond.

           “You’re not seeing the bigger picture.” Falena scowls but Leona keeps going. “The Land of Lights has treaties with countries and kingdoms we’ve been trying to contact for years. The Coral Sea trades with them on better terms than we ever will.”

           Leona’s words make sense and you silently agree. While most places now weren’t on unfamiliar terms, there were still lingering tension. The Sunset Savana is one of the oldest kingdoms, for better or worse. It’s been doing it’s best to modernize but still behind in the times. You can hear your bother complaining in your mind and ignore it. Falena looked like he swallowed a lemon, taking a moment to collect himself before speaking.

           “You’re right.” Leona looked surprised at his brother’s response, eyebrows going up. There was a moment of silence before Falena started speaking again. “From a trade perspective this could be beneficial but the way things are written, you could lose everything.”

           “I can’t claim the throne here.” Leona’s tone is cold but you could see the flash of pain in his eyes. “There’s no guarantee that they’ll claim the Throne of Lights but our treaties will still be in place.” Leona’s lips pull back into a sneer and you wince; this wasn’t going to be pretty. “Besides, I’m not wanted here. What better place to banish me than the other side of the world?”

           “That’s not-!” Falena began to boom but is cut off by his son. You watch as the little cub throws himself at his uncle’s legs, looking up with wide eyes.

           “I don’t want you to leave Uncle!” He’s on the verge of tears and the royal couple both frowns. You watch quietly in the corner, your heart throbbing. Your brother often felt the same way as Leona, though he wasn’t as vocal about it.

           You were surprised when Leona got down on his knees in front of his nephew. His face was a little softer and he waited a moment before gently flicking Cheka in the forehead. The tears disappeared and Cheka pouted, holding his head.

           “I’m not going to disappear forever ya little brat. Just go visit sometimes. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Cheka smiled at his uncle’s words, throwing his arms around Leona’s neck. The older lion held him without a word and you watched as the royal couple shared another look.

           “There are still a lot of things that need to be figured out before your uncle can come visit.” You chime in and everyone turns to look at you. “Paperwork, courting rules, things like that.”

           “Rules?” Leona asks, lips curling into a frown and you laugh. He wasn’t escaping so easily.

           “Traditions, rules, courtship practices. I’m assuming that Sunset Savana has their own?” Falena brightened up as you spoke while Leona got sourer. You kept your face neutral, focusing on Cheka who was staring at you. “That way your uncle and I can get to know each other and figure out if we’re a good match.”

           “It doesn’t need to be that serious herbivore.” You shot Leona a serious look, surprising the lion out of his grumbling.

           “It is that serious. This might be a political arrangement but it’s still our lives. I won’t go through with something if we aren’t a good fit, at least on some level.” He scowls at your words and rolls his eyes but stays silent. Falena looks relieved and gives a nod, turning to look at Leona.

           “I will send a letter to the Queen of Light and let her know your intensions. Everything has been signed but it’s still protocol.” The King began to walk around his office, talking to his wife and scooping Cheka up. The three of them were soon in their own world and you felt like an outsider looking in. Leona slid up next to you, lip curled up a little.

           “You made this more complicated than it has to be.” He muttered into your ear and you held still, resisting the urge to shudder. You gave a small shrug, smiling a little as Falena threw Cheka into the air.

           “Maybe. This doesn’t give anyone an excuse to protest though and I’d like things to be as smooth as possible.” A deep hum sounded in your ear and Leona chuckled.

           “Still think that stuck up brat cares?” His tone was mocking and your heart screamed out in offense. You didn’t take the bait, letting the prince get his last licks in.

           “Vil’s opinion doesn’t matter here. What matters is that the Shaftlands feel everything has been by the book and can’t reject the arrangement. Our countries alliance is strong but I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

           “Except break off a decades long engagement.” You can’t tell if Leona is teasing or not but you snort. He takes in the bitter look on your face and filed it away to look into later.

           “The only thing that did was upset me. Everyone else knew it was over a long time ago.” He didn’t say anything to your comment, the two of you lost in thought. Cheka happily brought you back to reality, tugging on your pants and asking a million questions. You laughed and agreed to go play, leaving Falena and Leona alone. You would be heading back in a few days and you wanted to enjoy your freedom before facing the music back home.

           Leona watched you go and wondered if this really was the best idea. It made him more politically free than he’d ever been but at what cost? All he needed to do now was guarantee you’d secure the throne from your brother. Ruggie could help with that. He sighed, leaving the office to go find a place to nap; this was going to turn into a huge pain, he just knew it.

[she-karev]

Pregnant (One Shot Request

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Two

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Hey guys I see you liked my last post and I got a one-shot request to do another time skip for Amber and DeLuca. I hope you guys like it and I’m up for one shot requests if you have any. I'll try to post part two by Wednesday.

Summary: Amber gets bored during maternity leave and texts Andrew who comes over.

Words: 1741

October 20, 2022

I sit crisscross on the king bed making a lazy raspberry sound as I flip through the pages of Watchmen. Graphic novels aren’t what I usually read but I got desperate after finishing the whole shelf of books in the study. I’ve read everything from classics like Jane Eyre to new releases like Iron Widow. After that I asked Levi for a recommendation and he immediately dropped off this huge comic book. The art is good, the storyline is surprisingly relevant to society’s political landscape and the characters are interesting. But it has barely kept me from chronic boredom that comes from maternity leave or as I like to call it, maternity prison.

My little sidekick is in her eighth month of gestation and it’s pretty evident to anyone with eyes given how I look like Pluto. If Pluto had boobs and was wearing her husband’s Harvard shirt with gray sweatpants. After the New Year I told Andrew that I was ready for us to start trying to have a baby. The pandemic was over, I was caught up in my residency thanks to Webber and Andrew was finally back in the O.R. as a general surgery attending. The timing couldn’t be better and around March we found out we were pregnant and then a few months later we found out we were having a girl. There was a bump when the residency program shut down for a bit but it restarted with a new batch of interns and me being promoted to Chief Resident.

Unfortunately, that joy was short lived, I had to go on maternity leave about a few weeks later when the exhaustion kicked in at 35 weeks and I’ve been glued to the bed ever since. And to make matters worse Levi was assigned temporary Chief Resident so that was another cloud looming over my head. The only thing that keeps me somewhat sane in this bed is my husband and baby daddy coming home and detailing every step of his surgeries so I don’t become dumb. Which is why I sent an impulsive text that I’m sure will make Andrew angry at me.

I hear running out in the hall and the door bursts open revealing Andrew in his navy scrubs and blue fleece telling me he came straight here the second he got my text. He looks around worried until he finds me criss cross in the middle of the bed looking healthy as a clam despite my text saying 911. I grin at him trying to look innocent so he doesn’t get too mad at me for worrying him because I was bored and needed contact with the outside world.

“Hi honey.” I greet him normally and he looks at me in shock before confusion sets in his face and I explain, “I might have possibly fibbed in my text don’t be mad.”

“You-” Andrew groans frustrated before laying it out, “You texted me 911.”

“I know.” I take a sip of my water bottle as Andrew walks to the edge of the bed staring down at me clearly peeved.

“I came straight here from work because my very pregnant wife texted me 911 and I was afraid she was in labor or bleeding out. But instead, I find her in bed chilling and acting like she didn’t almost give me a heart attack!” I wince at the exclamation, “God Amber what is wrong that you have to scare me like that?”

“I can’t be held accountable.” Andrew scoffs at my excuse and I continue, “I can’t be held accountable for my misguided actions because your baby and me have gone insane from bed rest and boredom. Will it make you feel better if I said sorry for almost scaring you to death?”

Andrew’s face softens slightly, “Well I think the knots in your hair are punishment enough so yes.”

I look in the vanity mirror to my left and see that my normally composed blonde hair is all over the place due to laying on my pillow for 10 hours. I look back and see my husband grinning amused already past his anger and I frown at that, “Yeah that’s right laugh at your pregnant wife who has permanent bed head let’s see how that ends for you.”

I stand on my knees and crawl over to the edge to face Andrew who chuckles while I pout, “Okay in all seriousness is there a logical reason why you texted me 911 when there is nothing emergent?”

“I’m bored out of my freaking mind.” I explain bordering on yelling while Andrew is looking at me affectionately with his bright green eyes, “I’ve been at home for five weeks, five weeks, do you have any idea what that is like?!”

“I have a feeling your gonna tell me.” Andrew puts his hands on my hips to keep me steady.

I hold up Watchmen to prove my point of how bored I am, “I’ve read all the books in our shelves I always say I’m gonna finish, I tried watching Netflix but you know it just makes me miss human contact more and to top it off while I’m shackled to this bed like that lady in Gerald’s Game my husband is at work saving lives and actually making a difference because unlike me he doesn’t have a big bowling ball under his shirt. And I think the baby is bored too and she sent that text because she’s hungry for more of your surgery stories and a reminder that there’s a world outside this bed. She’s very stubborn about what she wants.”

“She takes after her mother.” Andrew quips in amused and I narrow my eyes at him causing him to chuckle, “Look I know it’s hard being cooped up in here but you heard what the OB said bedrest is important and you were reaching your limit. I had to practically carry you out of the on-call room when I found you passed out after your lap chole.” I groan at that memory because it’s when I admitted I was exhausted and ordered to go on leave until after the baby was born, “You were doing the work of eight people it’s not good for your stamina and it would’ve affected the baby too.”

“You don’t know that.” He raises an eyebrow at me and I continue, “I’m like an M1-A1, it’s a tank and it can survive anything and get the job done.” I look down at my huge belly pouting at my changing body, “I mean I’m already as big as a tank right now and my bikini days are getting narrower by the minute.”

“I never really liked bikini’s anyway.” He’s trying to console me again which he always does when I complain about how big I’m getting, “You look way better in that sweater than some tacky string.”

“Stop being nice, you know my hormones make me unpredictable.” I remind him again, “The nicer you are the more it makes me want to choke hold you.”

“In that case you look like a bloated whale.” Andrew jokes and it doesn’t amuse me at all, “Better?”

“Not in the least.” I sigh and wrap my arms around the back of Andrew’s neck and say sweetly, “Just stay here and tell me stories about life on the outside.” I run my fingers through his wavy hair to add effect but it doesn’t work. He looks enticed but he’s gotten stronger against my seductions over the years.

“I can’t, I have a surgery this afternoon.” He steps back to my disappointment, “Plus I gotta help Marsh with the skills lab for the interns while Hunt is in the ER. And as much as I want to, I can’t stay here because your bored or Grey will reprimand me. Find something to do while I’m working so the time will pass by and you won’t be so bored.”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in my head on how I can keep myself busy, “Your right.”

He exhales in relief and turns to leave, “Thank god I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Oh no I’m coming with you; you’re taking me to work.” I get off the bed, go to our closet and put a black coat over my clothes and slip into my black crocs. I can see Andrew turning to face me again with an annoyed look.

“That is not happening babe.” He tells me bluntly but I don’t listen as I grab my purse, “Okay you and the baby need to listen to me. I am not taking you two to a hospital with the germs and blood and diseases it’s not happening I’m putting my foot down.”

I widen my eyes at that and he emphasizes by crossing his arms against his chest, “I’m just gonna watch from the gallery and catch up with my friends and see if Schmitt is still alive. It’s not like I’m getting a scalpel come on man.”

Andrew stands his ground, “Nope still not happening, if you want new books order on Amazon and get express, I don’t care about the price as long as it keeps you in bed and following doctor’s orders.”

“I’m a doctor, you’re a doctor, our siblings are doctors and all of our friends are doctors. I’m pretty sure we both know what’s safe and not safe for me and the baby too.” I remind him, “A hospital is the best place for me to kill time because if I go into labor, I just have to walk five steps to a bed in OB. Please take me with you, think of it like take your daughter to work day.”

He looks at my belly and back up at me, “I think we’re a little early for that.”

“Take me with you.” I sternly command.

“No.” Andrew says with finality causing me to narrow my eyes at him as he keeps a composed face. I mimic his stance crossing my arms across my chest and glaring at him to assert dominance. Even in my condition I stand as his equal and he knows it, he knows I won’t go down without a fight so he has to do the same. We stand there silently for a few moments, me in my pajamas and him in his scrubs, waiting for one of us to budge.

[barzzal]

Be warned this is gonna be long i apologize in advance, but this is all just me giving a massive kudos to you and your work. I’m so happy to see this updated thank you for your hard work and talented writing.

*inhales*

*exhales*

After reading interlude ii for CMC and as usual I loved it to bits but also I AM SUDDENLY CONFLICTED? With BOTH SIDES????? The whole time I was like “Yeah Sidney take the fucking L” but now that we have the full detailed story of how it led up to that moment, suddenly the situation is so much more complicated. HE ACTUALLY WAS READY AT THE LAST MOMENT OH GOD HE WAS GOING TO DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING TO MAKE IT UP TO HER AND THE BABY HE WAS READY TO BE A PARTNER AND DAD-

And now my head is in my hands as I think: ‘Oh my god. Reader didn’t give him a chance to be a dad to Lucas for NEARLY SEVEN YEARS (even though she was justifiably pissed at him) AND HE THOUGHT HIS BABY WAS GONE’

And, please hear me out. The pregnancy and the actual birth of the baby are two different parts of the process. It’s different for everyone, but sometimes it takes a few weeks or months for the parents to feel a connection with their baby once they’re born; It’s actually quite common among parents. Same goes for the pregnancy term. It’s fucking scary, raising a child; You’re not just living your life for yourself, you’re living your life for the best interest of your child. And while there’s absolutely no excuse for Sid and his emotional distance/neglect (believe me when I say I still want to sock him in the face for his initial reaction), it does bring perspective at to why he reacted that way. Correct me if I’m wrong, but he was scared that his commitment to his career would end up hurting his kid, not being able to be there for them. Of course, dumbass man sucked at communicating that to Reader properly huh

But he did come back. He did return. He was ready to begin repenting. Lucas wasn’t even born yet and he was ready to do right by him and Reader both.

Suddenly I am now in full panic mode because once Lucas gets older enough to question why did his mom keep him away from his dad if both parents loved and wanted him from the start. And I know reader said in previous chapters that everything she did was for her son and his happiness and safety which is an absolute HELL YES THAT’S WHAT BEING A PARENT IS ABOUT, but did she ever consider the possibility that keeping them both hidden away from Sid would potentially hurt all of them more than it would help? Lucas never got to meet the other side of the family; Troy and Trina never got to be grandparents, Taylor never got to be an aunt. They weren’t able to see Lucas grow up, and I just know they would’ve loved him the moment they were told of his existence.

Am I allowed to feel angry at both Sid and Reader? I am so sorry I… just love this story so much, I’ve never felt so many emotions reading before. Please correct me if I’m wrong in any way.

first of all, ily oh gosh. i never expect a comment this long from anyone but omg thank you!! i appreciate you taking the time to lmk which part/s u like/impacted u most 🥺 not lying when i say i was smiling as i read it entirely it’s truly fulfilling to come across a reader as passionate as u so endless thanks my dear 🫶🏻

second, ALL FEELINGS ARE VALID! i honestly can’t wait for them to be happy why can’t they just sit together and talk things out it’s not that hard 😭 had enough of little lukey having to bear poor adult choices!!

to clarify tho, since i’ve been mia on here and on the updates, the series was supposed to be done in 2022 😫 so our timeline for cmc would be that it’s still 2021 going 2022 (refer to teaser #3).

for everyone to be on the same page, allow me to recapitulate:

april 2015

refer to teaser #1

sidney is 27 yrs. turning 28 yrs. in aug

reader is 26 yrs.

first month of summer, 2015

june: reader finds out she’s pregnant

july: miscarriage scare; sid and reader break up before kris’ wedding

post breakup, 2015-2016

sidney wins the cup, oct 2015 to june 2016

post breakup, 2016

january: luke is born on 6th of january (kind of like his dad’s bday 8.7.87 = 1.6.16)

post breakup, 2016-2017

sidney wins another cup, oct 2016 to april 2017

post breakup, 2019

reader moves back to pittsburgh; hides sid’s son

post break up, 2021 [we’ll go back to this timeline on ch. 6]

sidney is 33 yrs. going 34 yrs. (refer to teaser #2)

reader is 31 going 32

luke is 5 yrs. a few months older than geno’s son, nikita

minimum age requirement for sid’s little penguins hockey is 5 yrs.

luke enters hockey program, meets sidney; sidney meets luke and reader

timeline for ch. 6 until stated otherwise

ANYWAY, i’m so excited we’re now on the second half of the series!!! ✨and the plot thickens✨

[lyon-amore]

With you until the end of the world Chapter 4

Chapter 3

*Angel POV*

I've become Jake's connection to the outside. It doesn't bother me since that way I can find out if there is news that my parents might be looking for me. It's been a month and there's still no one talking about a girl who ran off with a mystery guy. I walk the streets to go to the studio. From time to time I stop by so they can see that I use it, I stay for a few minutes and I leave. I haven't told Jake that I sent a letter to my parents, saying that I'm fine. Of course, I don’t put the address where we stayed. I have thought that every end of the month I will write to them and put different addresses. I don't want them to worry about me and look for me. I also don't go into details about who I'm with. Maybe the only one who knows is my mother? She always knew what was wrong with me and I told her but I didn't say many things. I didn't want to talk about Jake, just say that there was a boy I liked.

Okay, this might be the second thing I've kept from Jake. I also enter my mail, but disconnected. I have read the messages that my friends have sent me, wondering why I don’t answer my phone. Because I haven't told them anything. Lian asked me the day I left why I hadn't gone to work, later she found out from my parents that I had left, she wrote to me asking why I didn't tell her anything, since she was my best friend. The more I go up, the more messages I see that from when they found out. Most of the messages are from Jessy, Dan and Lilly. Jessy who has been writing more as if she were telling me how her day to day is going and that in the end she has decided to move, she’s looking for a apartment in Colville. It seems that texting me serves as therapy for her. Lilly texts me disappointed that I didn't tell her I was running away with Jake. Rather, she's mad at both of us for not telling her what we were planning to do. Dan writes to me worried that something might happen to me as I run away, if I might get in trouble with the law for being with Jake or if they might want to kill me because of him. I'd love to write back and tell them I'm fine, but they've already risked too much because of us. I decide to archive the emails so I can read them later.

I stand looking at the televisions in a store. They still talk about what happened in Duskwood and how the FBI showed up looking for a criminal. I see that they also name me quickly and I cover myself better. I want them to forget about this topic once and for all.    "Isn't Hannah Donfort the sister of that girl who made that video accusing two people of kidnapping her?" I hear a girl ask another.    "Yeah, what happened to her?" the other asks.     I walk away from there, continuing my way to the study. There are still “I am Jake” graffiti on some streets or some Nymos eyes. Where I lived, they gave my father and the other policemen headaches. Teenagers were the ones who painted the most. Then, after my article, it got a little worse. More overtime for my father.

I enter the building and go up to the studio, inserting the key to gain access. I lower my hood as I look inside. It's sparsely furnished and the blinds are down, it's only lit by the light from the computer. I check that everything is working fine and take out my phone to text Jake. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel

The computer is in perfect condition

Function correctly, as always

-----Jake has connected-----

Jake

Perfect.

Any problem upon arrival?

Angel

All good

No one following me, sir!

Jake

Do not call me sir.

I feel older.

Angel

Well, you're older than me 😝

Jake

Fine.

Well, being older than I am, you know that you must obey me, right?

Maybe tonight I can find a place for you to obey.

Angel 😳

Jake ;)

Be careful when you come back.

Make sure no one follows you.

Angel

OK

Something special to eat?

Jake

Hmm… Choose you today.

Angel

Well…

You? 😏

Jake

Ha ha.

Sorry to disappoint you, but I will be with the computer for a bit.

Angel

I know

I fancy something Italian

How about?

Jake

Of course:)

Angel

So, see you 😊

Jake

I will be waiting, angel.

-----Jake has disconnected----- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I put my phone away and pull up my hood. I'm not disappointed not to have intimate moments with Jake, honestly. Maybe at first we were a little…needy of each other, but now we just joke about these things on the phone. Also, it's not just about us having sex, for me, the fact that he caresses my hair when he is working on the computer or that we talk about the things we like being in the same room, without interruptions, is what I like the most. When I go to sleep, he stays next to me with his laptop, stroking my cheek gently, whispering how much he loves me as I drift off to sleep. I feel so complete with him.

I want that the day he is free; I can present him to my parents, that they see that he is someone special to me. Maybe at first my father wouldn't like it, but when he saw that they have the same taste in movies or a strong sense of justice, perhaps he likes him better, or also, the one who sees that he respects his daughter like no one has ever done before. I want that future for both of us.

Even though Jake hasn't told me anything about his past yet, it's like he's still afraid to tell me anything about his life for fear someone might take it from me by force. I hope that some day he will tell me something about his life, some detail. No one would ever get information out of Jake from me. I choose death rather than betray him.

*Jake POV*

I keep an eye on the data from the rental agency to know when people will come to look at the apartment. We have been here for a month with no problems and that relieves me, but I am sure we will have to leave eventually. You can never stay in one place for too long, so I have made a plan in case we have to leave.

I avoid thinking that I use her to monitor the computer. I think I like it better think that I do not keep her in here bored while I work on the computer. And according to her, she wants to know if there is talk of her disappearance, if her parents have caused a scandal to look for her. I do not know whether to care about jer words, I do not want to look like a kidnapper again. She told me not to worry about it, that she had made it very clear in writing that it was her decision.

While I am creating another surveillance program to detect any suspicious activity around me, I receive a notification that I have been named in his social network, again, posting a picture of me. I hacked his account to delete the post. I know he is been looking for me for a long time, but he does not know that he could risk being hunted down.    “Sorry buddy, but I can not let you put yourself in danger.” I mutter, heading back to the computer.     I make a small noise, complaining. I get a message. It is assumed that he would not have to send me one again if it was not that I did it. And I was not thinking about doing it again either, he already risked enough when I asked him to put the Nymos sticker on. But there have been so many messages that I have had enough. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Comet

Hey

Uh…

I know that I have sent you many messages

That I risk getting in touch with you again, but…

I don't know anything about you Jake 😔 and that worries me ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just hope he is talking meanwhile diverting his IP to another. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nymos

Comet, do not text me again.

Comet

Jake!

Do you know how many messages I have sent you?!

When I found out that the FBI was in Duskwood, I was worried!

Nymos

You risk writing to me.

Stop doing it or we will both be in trouble.

Comet I don’t care

Nymos

You can get your father in trouble.

Comet

He don't know nothing, he's busy keeping tabs on the people you messed with 😑

And enough of both of you treating me like a child when I'm an adult!

Just tell me if you're in trouble and I'll deflect any signals

Nymos I already have it under control. Do not worry.

And I do not treat you like a child, I just do not want to get my little brother in trouble. :)

Comet

Always with that habit of not worrying others when we already are 😠

And what about her? Don't worry about how I am for you?

Nymos

Angel is fine, do not worry about her.

Comet

Angel?

Who is Angel?

Wait… 😱 OH!

YOU ARE

SHE

WHAT?!

SHE RUN AWAY WITH YOU?!

Nymos

It was her decision.

Comet

I see that friends don’t enter the sack of the privileged 😒

Nymos

I could not make her see reason.

But I take good care of her.

I will not let anything bad happen to her.

Comet

Hmm…

If you trust her…

Nymos

I trust her.

Comet

Alright, alright

Just be careful…

Nymos

Henry, she is trustworthy.

Comet

But do you know that her father is a cop?

I wouldn’t trust her 😐

Nymos

She has always shown me that I can trust her.

She would have given me away long ago.

Comet

But this time you’re with her, it’s different 😰

Don’t let it give you away

-----Comet has disconnected----- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I pinch the bridge of my nose as I sigh. I have known Henry since he was a child, I myself helped him find a home and a father, we taught him everything we knew about security and hacking. He admired me and continues to admire me, to the point that when I contacted him again for help, he would not stop talking and asking me where I had been. Very persistent, if I dare say. I told him about her and he was even glad that I cared for someone as much as I ever had before. Now his attitude towards her has changed, as if she is dangerous. I have to assume it was the FBI news that made him change his mind. It is not yet known who warned them.

But I know my angel was not.

I hear the door and let out a small laugh. She still has trouble using the lock picks. I get up from the ground and go to open the door, then lean against the frame with a smile. She looks at me with a frown, picks in hand.    "I almost had it." she replies, putting them in his pants pocket.    “You have to avoid leaving marks on the lock” I lean forward, approaching her face “, if you see that you cannot, leave it.”    “ 'If you see that you can't, leave it' “ she imitates me entering the house.     I stop her by placing a hand on her waist, turning her around. I place my hand on her chin and approach her lips.    "Are not you forgetting something?" I ask, whispering.     I go to kiss her and she places a bag in front of me.    "The food." She replies with a mischievous smile.     I roll my eyes and pick up the bag. It is she who kisses me, to later let out a laugh.    "I told you, I was hungry for you." She chuckles, wrapping her arms around my neck.    "You are going to drive me crazy, angel." I caress her lips, seeing a shy smile.    Her cheeks turn red and I feel her skin warm. I kiss her forehead and hear her sigh. She hugs me resting her head on my body.    “I'm home.” she says, and I hear happiness in her voice.    "Yes, you are." I reply, kissing her head.

   We sit on the ground. I take care of the program and she eats, watching what I do.    "Here." She tells me, approaching the pasta. I open my mouth and let him feed me. If it weren't for her, I would forget the most important needs in a human being.     She then gets upset that she does not deserve to be called an angel.    "Any news of your escape?" I ask after finishing swallowing the food.   “No, it seems that my parents have understood the letter I left them correctly” she answers after she has finished swallowing “, besides, I told them that it wouldn't be forever.”     I nod understanding her words. She can come back without problems whenever she wants, I do not keep her by my side.    “What are you doing now?” she asks, dragging herself over to me, setting the food container aside.    "I am trying to create a better surveillance program around us" I answer without taking my eyes off the screen “, I want to collect the information of the people around us and know if any of them could be an undercover agent if I look at their messages.”    "Won't it be dangerous?" She does not sound worried, more curious.     I look at her raising an eyebrow.    "Do not you know who you are talking to?"     She looks me up and down, cocking her head. She raises her hand to her face and dabs with her finger.    “Well, no, I don't know” I take her by the wrist and attract her to me, beginning to tickle her “No! Stop!” She exclaimed between laughs.    “I am going to make you remember who you are talking to, angel.” I tell her, laying her down.    "Wasn't it that you had to work?" She smiled as she caressed my face.    "I can take a break."     She bites her lip and pulls her to me. Before I can kiss her, I hear the notification that he is put up another post again. I quickly part ways, deleting all information and photo from that post. Just about, if I am a second later… I raise my hands to my head, taking a deep breath. When will he give up?    "What's wrong, Jake?" She asks me worried.    "It is nothing" I reply, taking her hand and kissing it “. Do not worry, why do not you listen to some music while I work?”     I move a little and let her settle in with me. I start stroking her hair slowly, trying to make her forget what happened. But she did not make it.    “Are you sure you're okay?”     I lower my head to look at her and smile.    “Yes angel, I'm fine.” I kiss her forehead and she nods.     The less information she know about my past, the better. It would be risking too much.

Chapter 5 

[kassiekole22]

hello_friend

Description: While waiting for a meeting with Fsocitey to start, you and Elliot take a ride on the ferris wheel so you can have some alone time to talk... Warnings: Mention Of Anxiety And Poor Mental Health (But Nothing Very Detailed.), Friends To Lovers, Low-Key Pining. Word Count: 1.5k A/N: So, since the pole ended and I got more votes for writing for Elliot, I decided to finally post this fic that I've been sitting on for a month. I've reread and rewritten this thing over and over because I just can't tell if I'm getting it right. I guess I have the "writing for a new fandom" jitters right now. 😅 If I got something wrong, feel free to let me know in the comments so I can learn from it in the future. I haven't watched the full series yet so I made (Y/N) oblivious to what the meeting with Fsocitey was about, because I honestly didn't really know myself. 😂 And to those people who didn't want me to start writing for Elliot, your votes only made me want to write for him more. 😉 MasterList: 🖤 TagList: @lorebite, @mornandil. (I'm only tagging people from my original taglist, who I know want to read this. So, if you want to be added to the taglist as well, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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Pov: You

I arrived at the old Fun Society building around noon today. I walked quickly towards the building that was now taken over by Fsocitey, who I was joining for a meeting today. When Mr. Robot told me about it, he didn't give me any details on what we would be discussing. I wasn't nearly as skilled with hacking as the others were, so I was pretty much useless to the group, but Mr. Robot had requested that I be there because he seen my potential and wanted me to learn from the others. I approached the door to see Elliot leaned up against the wall, almost as if he was waiting for me - or somebody.

"Hello." I greeted him kindly. I was never one for social interactions but I felt pretty comfortable around Elliot. I felt as if he understood me which made it easier to interact with him.

"Hey." He muttered monotonously as his eyes glanced at me for a moment from under his hood, watching me step closer to the door while taking another drag of his cigarette and tossing it to the ground.

I reached for the door handle and to my surprise, Elliot grabbed my arm, stopping me and making me jump subconsciously. Elliot was never one for physical contact, this I knew. So, I was curious to know what caused this action.

"I-I'm sorry…" He muttered as he let his hand fall to his side, his eyes shifting away from me quickly.

"Oh, no. Don't be. It's ok." I assured him. "What's up?"

"Darlene is late. So, we are waiting to start the meeting until she gets here. I was wondering if you would want to take a walk with me?" He suggested and I smiled before nodding my head. After glancing over at me one last time, Elliot turned and began to walk in the other direction so I followed him away from the building.

The next couple of minutes were pretty quiet as we walked, which I didn't mind. Me and Elliot could just sit in silence for hours and be completely fine just enjoying each other's presence. I began to feel a chill and zipped up my hoodie which Elliot immediately took notice to.

"You cold?" He asked and I nodded shyly. He stayed silent for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek as if he was thinking of a solution before looking up at the big ferris wheel a few feet before us. "You wanna go on the ferris wheel to take your mind off of it?"

I looked into his light blue eyes that were now darkened due to the shadow that his hood was casting over them and thought for a moment. It was an odd suggestion to fix the current situation but I noticed the small smirk tugging slightly at his reluctant lips and I couldn't refuse. So, I nodded and followed him to the ride.

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Pov: Elliot

Hello, friend.

Today took an unexpected turn. Though I don't have to tell you that. I bet you didn't expect me to take off with (Y/N) Instead of going inside? To be honest, neither did I. Darlene was late for our meeting so I decided to take this opportunity to be alone with (Y/N). Sure, Mr. Robot would prefer me to me inside, discussing the same shit over and over until Darlene arrives and we get to the important stuff, but I didn't feel like doing that today.

We sit in silence as we begin to approach the top of the ride and I notice that (Y/N) is now shaking slightly.

Shit. She's afraid of heights.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. It was weird of me to suggest it but I want to have her alone. I don't know why, but I just do. And the ferris wheel is the only place I know people won't interrupt us unless Mr. Robot wants to interfere.

"It's ok. The others have rode this thing hundreds of times and have been fine." I assure her and a smile tugs at the corners of her soft lips.

Wait… Shit, I'm staring at her lips again. I hope she didn't notice.

I have to stop doing that…

"So, how have you been?" I attempt to make small talk to break the silence that has once again fallen over us.

Yes, that's a good question. Keep it casual.

"Oh, pretty good. I've been practicing my programming and hacking skills like Mr. Robot asked me to and I think I'm getting better." She responds as her smile grows bigger with a bit of pride.

Good. She deserves to be proud of herself.

"Hey, if you ever need my help with anything-"

"I know. Thank you, Elliot." She says as her expression softens with appreciation. "How have you been?"

"I've been ok. I've been struggling a bit more than usual, but… I'm ok…" I confess as I look down to my shoes.

"I'm sorry to hear that." I look back up to see a look of genuine remorse on her face and I feel my heart stammer slightly.

I need to fucking chill. Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. Can you help me out of this situation?

"It's ok. Hey, Flipper and Qwerty are doing good though." I chuckle softly to lighten the mood. Her eyes light up at the mention of Flipper and Qwerty and I almost don't notice that I'm smiling again.

I always seem to do that more when she is around.

"That's good! I miss them." She smiles at me and I feel a rush of heat in my cheeks. I remember the first time she came over to my apartment and met them. Her computer had shut down unexpectedly and she panicked and came straight to me. She spent the whole time, sitting on my couch while petting Flipper nervously and watching Qwerty as she nervously chewed on her lip. She thought I didn't notice. But I did. I notice everything about her.

How she taps her nails on any hard surface when she's anxious.

How she does anything to avoid eye contact when she's feeling shy.

How her eyes twinkle when she's happy.

How she blushes when she receives compliments and instantly decides to not believe them. Mr. Robot noticed that when he told her that she has potential to be a good hacker.

Yes. We talk about her. Quite a lot, actually.

Mr. Robot sees her as a distraction… But I think he's wrong…

Hm… She has only been back to my apartment a couple times since the day her computer broke down. And surprisingly, I don't mind having her around there. I swallow thickly as I advert my gaze from her, worried that she would notice the shift in my demeanor.

Fuck.

Things go quiet again and I'm beginning to think about things more. I can't even talk to Krista about most of the things I tell her with no problem. It's like she is the bug in the system that is my self sabotaging mind. Whenever I am around her, she is fixing me, slowly, I can feel it. Hell, now that I really think about it, I've never felt as comfortable talking to anybody like I do with her. Well, her and you.

Wait…

No…

Oh, fuck! Shit! She's you! All this time, I thought I was talking to an imaginary person but I was really talking to her - Well… I guess I mean you now.

I guess I should accept these new feelings and do something about this then…

"(Y/N)…" I stuttered slightly, nervous to speak the words I'm about to speak.

If I'm being honest, friend, I am terrified to make this confession to you. But if I don't, I might regret it.

No. I will regret it. I have to do this.

"I have never felt so comfortable with anybody but you before and I-I think I want to be more than friends." I finally confess and if it wasn't for the ferris wheel cart still swaying just a tiny bit from the ride's most recent movement, I would have thought that time had stood still.

You freeze in your spot and your eyes widen while your mouth falls agape. Even in a state of shock, you still look so beautiful. But I have messed things up. I have ruined what we had between us and scared you away by my confession. I feel my heart thud violently against my ribcage as if it's punishing me for being so stupid. But to my surprise, your shocked expression softens and your mouth shapes into a toothy grin. You're always the prettiest when you're so happy. You stand up, carefully cross our cart and sits down beside me before carefully taking my hand in your own, moving slowly as if you're trying not to startle a wild animal while watching my face for any signs of discomfort.

"C-Can I kiss you?" You ask shyly. My heart melts at the fact that you are so mindful of my hate for physical contact and are considerate enough to ask me before making the first move. I nod and you lean forward before connecting your lips to mine.

Fuck…

You're amazing, friend…

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[kiruamon]

Paper Heart (Part 2: The Present)

Sorry, sorry for the wait. The chapter keept going and going and ended up to be so much longer than I planned! (And I had to translate it which took also a good while.) But now I wish you much fun with the second part of my silly little story!

_

Has it really been almost a year since you started living by yourself? Living all alone in this house you call home. Sometimes it still feels like your parents could suddenly show up at the driveway of the house. As if nothing had ever happened. Just like they always did. Sometimes they disappeared off the face of the earth for a few weeks because of a job, sometimes even for months. The longest period - when you were sixteen - had been six months that felt like forever. But at least back then they had called or sent you a letter every now and then. However, when your parents left for the last time, they only told you that they had to go away for a while because of work. That you should take good care of the house. Where if anything should happen, you would find their papers in case of an emergency. Just in case you needed those. To tell the truth, to this day you have no idea what to do with their research notes. The mountains of folders contain dozens of indexes and random old newspaper and internet articles and handwritten notes on all the junk in the basement that must have collected layer after layer of dust there over the years. Broken, maybe antique furniture and pseudo-occult stuff that your parents collected there while keeping you away from it. You lost interest in trying to look around down there many years ago.

All you know for sure is that one of the reasons your parents were almost never home is all that stuff down there. As a child, you often felt alone because of it and… …you still do whenever you're in this house. It feels too big and empty for one person to live here. But you had this feeling even before they disappeared. It has only grown a bit over the last year. That's probably why you spend so much time in the garden or go on strolls for hours in the nearby fields and woods. Luckily, you can at least count on your best friend not to forget you. Mitchell and you hang out a lot. Either at his place or here. Sometimes he brings his little brother Gavyn with him. It's nice having them around. You're even grateful when Mitch - as he often does - just waltzes in on you without a warning. You know he's worried about you. That he knows that you quickly feel uneasy all alone, even though you always insist that you are fine with it. That you are used to it and can handle it.

… you wish you knew if your parents were okay. If they had an accident. Or… just abandoned you for good, although you don't know why they would do that. Was it because of you? Or was it because of them? Or neither… Or maybe they got into some dangerous business. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time with their strange research. Maybe that's why they can't come back. Of course, you did call the police at some point. But since your parents are adults and you are also of age, the whole incident fizzled out pretty quickly. You remember how tense you had been watching the news for a while. Always with a lingering fear of hearing or reading their names when an accident or another disaster was mentioned. The police simply assumed that they left for good. By now, you almost believe that, too. Either way, there is no point in thinking about it any longer. You've already gone over this issue too many times in your head to waste any more hours on it when there's nothing you can do about it anyway.

Neither does it do you any good to stick to their old rules any longer when they are no longer there. You've always ignored the basement ever since you got in trouble for playing down there when you were in elementary school. You don't remember the details of the incident very well. Only that you must have been alone at home that night and probably felt lonelier than usual. And although you always followed the rules of your parents, you decided to go down to the basement to look around. Of all the things that had been stored down there, it had been some huge, old doll that had caught your eye. It had a weird chamber in the chest and for some reason that you can't remember because it was so long ago, you had made a heart for it and put it in there and pretended it was alive. You probably just wished for someone to be there for you that night. What you clearly remember is the scolding you got from your parents the morning after. For being down there and playing with things that were probably too valuable for the hands of a child. It's hard to blame them for that - especially since they'd never scolded you otherwise - even if their reaction seemed a bit over the top to you today. You also remember… how you cried your eyes out when you saw the torn pieces of the paper heart on the kitchen table.

After that, you were never down there again. Your parents had hidden the key to the basement in a new place. Some years later you stumbled upon the hiding place by pure coincidence, but you never took the key and acted as if you didn't know where it was until today. It simply didn't bother you anymore what old stuff your parents stored down there. Normally you wouldn't have seen any reason to go down to the basement, but this morning when you were half asleep and staggering down the stairs to the first floor, you thought you heard a noise coming from there. Maybe mice. Hopefully not rats. In any case, you decided to go down there after work to check things out. Maybe you have to set up some live traps in case of trouble and to get rid of the uninvited visitors before the situation gets out of control.

Your fingers feel the underside of the desk top in your parents' study and bump into the taped key there. Good. So the hiding spot hasn't changed again. Carefully, you peel off the tape and detach it from the old key and make your way to the basement stairs. Arriving in front of the door, you try to insert the key into the keyhole. The old key doesn't go in easily, but with a little willpower and a few rattles, you manage to unlock the door. Maybe the door has warped a bit over the years… something you could take a closer look at another time to see if you can fix it. For now, you just open the door and shiver a little as a cold breeze brushes your bare arms. Weird. It must be because of how long the basement had been sealed off. There are no windows down here that could be left open. A dusty smell hits you as you take a step into the dark room and your hand searches the wall next to you for the light switch that should be somewhere around here. You feel plastic under your fingers. Luckily, the old ceiling lamp still comes to life as you flip the light switch. "Let's see… ", as expected, there is a lot of old, dusty junk lying around on the shelves and in the glass cabinets. Everything is marked with some kind of numbered label, which at least hints at a certain type of system. You put yourself in motion and keep looking for traces of furry roommates somewhere in the nooks and crannies, wandering deeper and deeper into the miniature labyrinth of old furniture and other curiosities. From time to time you have to squeeze yourself through particularly narrow passages. But so far… no sign of any mice, rats or other animals. That's actually pretty good. Maybe the noise did come from outside. You have almost reached the end of the room when you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

Between a shelf and a nearby glass cabinet, a figure crouches on the floor, half slumped over. Confused, you turn your head to get a better look at it. "Oh. So this is where you've been." Well… where else if not here, right? A small smile flashes across your face as you gaze at the lifeless doll. Seeing it definitely brings back a certain nostalgia. Without hesitation, you approach it and squat down in front of it to get a better look. By now, it looks even gloomier than you remember it. Cobwebs hang between its head and shoulder and you feel sorry for the puppet, how it sits so forgotten and lonely here in the dark. You don't think twice as you reach out your hand and gently wipe away the cobwebs hanging from it. "Well old friend?" you murmur softly to it. It feels a bit like you're seeing an old friend again after a long time. "It's been some time. Do you still recognize me?" Of course, it doesn't give you an answer. How could it? Back then, you just imagined it was talking to you. But it's okay. Your hand wanders further, strokes the cracked chest and you can feel the grooves that hint at the hidden chamber behind it. That's right. There had been a flap. Automatically, you search for a hold with your fingernails and gently pull on the flap until it opens, exposing the chamber in the doll's chest. You blink, staring curiously into the secret chamber. The cavity is as black as if its inside were covered with soot. Or as if it was swallowing up all the light inside. But perhaps it is simply due to the sparse light conditions down here, you think. For one night, a heart had rested in this chamber. A messily cut paper heart that you had decorated with all kinds of stickers, drawings and trinkets to give it to your friend. But now there is only this hole in which yawning emptiness exists. The sight is downright depressing. "Not much going on in there, huh?" you ask quietly, knowing you're just talking to yourself. Gingerly, you close the flap for now. "Well, maybe we can clean you up a bit. Wipe off all that grime." The cracks look rather bad though. There are pieces missing everywhere and you are not sure if it is possible to repair them. Maybe an expert could fix it, but you don't have your hopes up too high.

"Come on. Let's get you upstairs first and give you a closer look," you grab one of its long arms and carefully put it over your shoulder, then you do the same with the other one and hoist it onto your back so you can give it a piggyback ride. "Whew. Okay… not exactly a lightweight, are we?," you grunt softly. Your old friend is much heavier and bigger than it looked while sitting. You have to adjust the weight on your back a bit before you find a good footing where it isn't about to fall off your back. Its arms and hands dangle lifelessly back and forth in front of your chest. "Hold on tight I don't want you to fall off," you mutter half-jokingly and make your way back to the door with slow and careful steps. It's not so easy with your new friend on your back, but somehow you manage to shuffle past the junk without any mishaps. You use your elbow to flip the light switch and carefully push the door shut with your foot as you step out of the basement. The stairs are a bit of a challenge and you move up more slowly to avoid losing your footing on the steps and tumbling all the way back down with your friend. Otherwise that would probably end in more than a few scratches.

When you finally reach the kitchen and set the old doll down on one of the chairs, you need a brief pause to catch your breath. Normally, you're used to lugging heavy stuff around because of your work in the garden and your job. But at least you can take a better look at the doll up here in the daylight. However… sadly you realize that it is in an even worse condition than you already saw in the basement. The fabric of the pants, the night cap and the collar around the neck are completely moth-eaten. There are chipped off larger and smaller pieces all over the arms, hands, and body. The odd spikes on its head are sharp and clearly there are larger pieces missing. A weird piece of paper with some illegible scrawl is stuck to the back of its head, which you figure out is pretty easy to peel off. Since it doesn't seem to belong directly to the doll, the paper just ends up in the trash can for paper waste. After that, the inspection continues and you pucker your mouth a bit as you spot the next big damage. "Oh boy… that looks bad." A large hole gapes at the back of the doll's body. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to extend all the way up into the chest cavity.

And yet you have the feeling that your friend is probably beyond saving. Perhaps you would do him a greater favor if you showed him some mercy and sent him to the scrapyard… You hesitate, walk to the kitchen sink and grab one of the cleaning rags to soak it with water and wring it out. Before you know it you're already wiping the dust and dirt off his face. "Let's clean you up before we do anything else," even if you're going to take him to the scrapyard tomorrow, you want to at least do this much for him. You give him a small encouraging smile and continue to wipe him clean, rinsing the rag every now and then to remove the stubborn layers of dirt, dust and unidentifiable stains that cling to his body.

It's already evening when you're finally done. He still gives off a rather sorry sight, but it's still a little better than it was before. There's not much more you can do for him… Except… You raise your head a little. There is one thing, perhaps, that you can do. Just for old times' sake. And maybe also because you feel you owe it to your eight-year-old self. Faster than you can reconsider, you've already brought a pair of scissors and some old craft supplies from your room into the kitchen and spread them out on the table, eager to get to work. For his final journey you want to give him something on his way. You are still no expert at crafting. But at least this time the heart-shaped cardboard template looks a bit better than the old version. And maybe you're a tad proud of that. You try to remember what the original heart looked like, but you can't quite remember the exact details. What color did you choose for the heart? Red? No, it was definitely not red. Your gaze wanders over the colorful sheets of paper in front of you. Blue? Yellow? Both? You think you somehow used both colors. "Hmmm… how about this… ", you use your template to cut out both a yellow and blue heart and simply glue the two hearts together. Now you have both - a yellow and blue side for the heart!

What else? You glued all kinds of stuff on it back then. But you have no idea where your old sticker books have gone. Probably such old stickers wouldn't stick very well anyway. You could try to draw something on the front and back. But well, that's not your big strength either. Perhaps it could be a little simpler, after all, it's the thought that counts in the end. So you decide to write down in words whatever comes to your mind and what you probably wanted to express with your decorations as a child. The blue side facing you comes first. And immediately the star and moon stickers pop into your mind. So you write down the words moon and stars. What next? What else can you think of? You've got plenty of room. "Maybe… night, sleep, rest… um… whisper?", slowly the blue space starts to fill up a bit. It's like you're playing an association game. All by itself, your head adds more words to the previous ones, which your hand immediately writes down. Shadows, because the night is full of them and not everything is as bad as it seems at first sight. At night the world seems mysterious, almost strange. As if it was full of magic. You also think of music. Some soft melody that makes you fall asleep. Perhaps you only think of it because you turned on the radio earlier to fill the silence in the house. But you wonder a little what it would say about you, if someone would analyze this. Anyway. You turn the heart over to the yellow side.

"If one side is the moon, then this one is the sun," plus the friendly yellow just fits too well. Good. So what do you associate with the sun? "The day. Warmth," plenty motivated you write down your thoughts. The day brings fun with it. You can meet your friends to laugh and play games with. You have more pep in your step and are more motivated. Wow, some of that sounded pretty much like stuff a kid would write down and you laugh quietly at yourself. "Well, it fits good enough," your younger self would definitely agree with what you wrote down here. You look over at the doll with a grin. What else could you write down? "What else could I give you to take along?" you ask yourself quietly, looking down at the paper heart again. There were so many things. So many wonderful things. "May there always be a light inside your heart - no matter how small - that will guide you even through the darkest of times," for the blue side. "May you find the courage inside you to face even your worst fears and never forget how much beauty there is in this world," for the yellow side. … okay, okay, now that sounded a bit like something you directed at yourself. Super cheesy as well, you think to yourself, a tad embarrassed but smiling nonetheless. But hey, no one but you would ever get to read this anyway.

Good, now there's hardly any space left on the two pages. Your eyes roam over all the craft supplies. You notice the little tins filled with colored glitter. Hmmm… Would that be too over the top, perhaps? "… Oh, why not?" Surely a little extra sparkle can't hurt! So you carefully drag one of the glue sticks between the written words over the yellow side of the heart a few times, and then sprinkle some gold colored glitter on top of it. After that, you have to be patient until it dries before you turn the side over and coat it with glue as well and then decorate it with silver glitter. "Nice work," you say with a proud grin and examine both sides of your work once again with satisfaction.

"It might not be exactly the same, but I hope you don't hold it against me," you joke light-heartedly, looking into the hollow eyes of your silent friend. Now that the heart is finished, you get up from your seat and stand in front of the doll that had been waiting patiently on the chair next to you for the last half an hour. Gently you open the flap to the chamber in its chest again. Even up here with better lighting, its insides remain shrouded in total darkness. Pretty weird. But you don't think too much about it. You shrug your shoulders and carefully grasp your self-made heart. "Even if it doesn't make you whole anymore… Maybe it will at least fill a little of the emptiness inside you and can accompany you on your final journey." Gently, you place the heart in his chest, with a feeling as if you were dipping your hand in ice water until you pull it back out of the chamber, shuddering. You frown in bewilderment at this sensation and look at your hand. Nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. Except... for all the glitter and glue clinging to it! You chuckle softly at the sight. You'd better wash that off or you'll have that stuff all over your face and on your clothes later. But before you do, you carefully close the flap and throw a warm smile at your silent friend. "It's almost like old times now," you say with tenderness in your voice. Well, except for the fact that you're not a little kid anymore. Other than that, it's amazing how little has changed. You're still talking to a doll. Maybe you should try socializing more if you're so eager for someone to talk to. Your eyes wander to the clock above the kitchen door. "Eight-thirty already?" you hadn't realized it was so late. A glance out the window also tells you that the sun has nearly disappeared. A last strip of red light blinks over the hedge that surrounds the back garden. Time to make yourself something for dinner, you guess.

You turn away from the doll and head for the sink to wash your sticky hands clean before preparing dinner. You've barely taken three steps when a noise causes you to flinch suddenly. It sounds as if something heavy had fallen to the floor somewhere behind you. The doll, it goes through your mind and you already imagine in your thoughts how it must have slipped off the chair. … did it stay in one piece? Worried, you want to check if everything is all right with it and hope that it survived the fall without further damage. But you don't even have a chance to turn around and look at the doll to confirm your suspicions. Right and left to your side, hands shoot out of nowhere, grabbing you before you even realize what's happening and dragging you backwards with such force that you can't breathe. You are far too perplexed to scream. It takes a moment before a feeling of panic strikes you. But now that it's there, it swells with every second, like a spreading fire in a wooden house. Your heart pounds as if you've done a sprint and speeds up even more as you feel your body pressed tightly against something stiff. Your breathing becomes more frantic. What is this? What is happening here? The hairs on your arms stand up as a cold shiver runs over them.

Someone has grabbed you, you finally realize. Someone has entered your home and is holding you captive. Unnaturally large fingers dig into the fabric of your T-shirt, fueling the sinking feeling in your stomach that you are in some serious trouble right now. That's definitely not Mitch, who snuck in through the open patio door and is just trying to surprise you with an unannounced visit. You don't dare turn your head to look at your captor. The stranger still says nothing. Gives no instructions or anything else that tells you what his intentions might be. He just holds you tight. Which only makes the whole thing so much worse, because it fuels your brain with the worst possible outcomes and makes you break out in cold sweat. Will you end up with a knife in your back or chest any minute now? Are they going to drag you off? Do they want to rob you? Or does this have something to do with your parents and whoever this is wants to get their revenge on you now, too, for some crazy reason?

"Look… I-I have… n-no idea w-what you want… b-but if it's just money or something… t-then just… t-take whatever you want… " Your voice is shaking like crazy, just like the rest of your body. If they weren't holding you, your legs probably would have already given way. You feel tears welling up in your eyes from the desperation of this situation and which are clouding your vision. You are terrified. And still they remain silent without telling you what they want from you. Seconds are passing insufferably slow, just feeding your panic and fear even more. One of the two hands removes itself from you. This is probably the moment when the knife comes! Or a pistol… In the movies and newspapers, it's always like that. Your stomach tightens as if it could already feel the blood flowing from the upcoming wound. Breathing becomes almost impossible by now, and you squeeze your eyes so tightly shut that it already hurts. You don't want to see it coming when it happens and you hope it will be quick. So fast that you might not even notice.

Something brushes your cheek. Cold. It doesn't feel like a knife or a gun, though. Your irritation-flooded body needs a moment to identify it as a finger. The stranger strokes your tear-soaked cheek. He does so with such extreme care that you blink in disbelief and open your eyes. You're still alive, you realize, and gasp for some air. Only now do you notice that the hand around your belly did also become much looser. Maybe you could escape, if only you were able to think clearly. His fingers feel cool while they move from your cheek to your chin, slowly lifting it until something other than the kitchen ceiling enters your field of vision. You're not sure what you're seeing at first. Your head only processes bits and pieces that catch your eye. You see dark blue fabric, yellow stars on the nightcap that dangles from the intruder's head. A shiny golden bell swings back and forth above your head, making a soft tinkling noise. The stranger's eye sockets glow in a dim, soft red light. One white eye and one red eye stare down at you without blinking once. The round face is split into a light and dark side. Almost like a crescent moon in the night sky. Moon and stars, you think. It is impossible to take your eyes off this sight and you may have held your breath for a moment as you slowly put the pieces together in front of you. This is not a mask. This is not a man. Or even a human. Not an intruder. Not a stranger. You brought him up here yourself. He looks different. But you still think you recognize him. You see his mouth, stretched into a wide grin, which certainly wasn't there before and how it slightly shifts. His voice is soft and like a whisper as he mouths a single word to you: "Friend."

"…" The lump in your throat loosens while your body continues to feel tense. "… hi… ", you stammer quietly. It's all your overwhelmed head can manage as a response at this moment, while you still stare up into the face of the doll that has come to life. Somewhere on the way between the basement and the kitchen, you must have hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you did fall down the stairs trying to carry him up here. Lying unconscious in front of the basement door and imagining something. This simply can't be real… It's impossible. And yet you can still feel his fingers on your skin and how the weight of his arm now rests gently on your shoulder instead of pressing against your stomach. … Maybe it's a very realistic dream….

"… would… ", your voice falters for a moment and you need a second attempt to find it. "Would… you maybe let me go?", you ask as careful as possible and indeed, surprisingly, he follows your request. "Th-thank you," you mumble under your breath, quietly and somewhat uncertainly, almost expecting that he might grab you again right away. But nothing like that happens. You slowly take a few shaky steps forward before you turn around on unsteady legs to get a better look at what you're dealing with here. He's… freakin' huge, and that's despite the fact that he's standing in front of you in a somewhat crouched position. His head turns slightly to the side, his eyes watching your every move curiously, like a cat seeing a mouse for the first time in its life. You swallow a little.

Apparently you're not the only one of you who wants to know what he's dealing with here. You run a hand over your head and through your hair. Your hands still feel somewhat sweaty. Haha… hah… this just has to be a dream… just… a very realistic dream… A doll can't just come to life! There's no such thing! It cannot exist. You look past him to the chair where you had put the doll earlier, but of course it's empty. After all, he is standing right in front of you. You swallow again and look up at him. He hasn't moved an inch. Almost as if he's waiting for you to do something. You honestly have no idea what he expects from you. Or if he really expects anything from you. Take a deep breath. In and out. In and out. Calm down. There seems to be no danger to your life for now. "So… you… are?" you ask in a first timid attempt to learn more about the being before you. "A friend," comes his immediate answer. He sounds fully convinced of it. Like it's a simple fact that he establishes in his unusual whispering voice. "O-okay… okay," that's the second time he's said that now. You're still pretty nervous, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was a few minutes ago, and seeing him right in front of you like this makes it all a little less scary. You can handle it. Just stay calm. You put your sweaty and glittery palms together, lift them in front of your face, take another deep breath, and lower them again. It's not the worst sign that he's calling you his friend. Or so you hope… But it's also not what you wanted to know. "I meant more… what you are?" The question seems to confuse him, he stares at you, tilting his head from side to side as if thinking. Then, suddenly, he turns it further and further - like one of those fortune wheels at fairgrounds - until his head completes a full turn and pauses again in its original position. "Can't remember," is his only reply, while there's a far-too-large, unreadable grin on his face. Oooooookay, that was a teeny tiny bit creepy now… Well, more creepy than the whole situation already is. But aside from… whatever that just was, he still shows no signs on wanting to hurt you. So you scrape up your courage and try again with a different approach. "Do you have a name?" Anxiously, you wait. His eyes linger on you. "No." "Oh, no name huh," that surprises you a little. Somehow you had assumed he would have one. "Do you just not remember it or have you never had one?" is why you want to know, feeling your tension lessen a little with each word you two exchange. "Yes." You frown. Um… that wasn't a very helpful answer… You start to wonder if he can even understand you properly. Silently, you sigh. Somehow this isn't going anywhere. But you haven't given up yet! "Are you… really the doll from the basement?" you wonder quietly, directing the question more to yourself than to him, because it all seems so unreal to you. But it is strange… Where were the spikes on his head? You don't see any broken pieces lying around on the floor, which would had suggested that they had fallen off… And… besides, now that you think about it, he doesn't look so worn out anymore. The damaged areas on his body and clothes seem to have vanished completely… Strangely enough, at the mention of the basement, he ducks his head a bit and frowns a little. Almost as if the thought of this place makes him uncomfortable. Except for the discomfort on his side, he seems to be quite willing to answer you, though, because you get another short yes from him as confirmation. Good. At least this suspicion has been confirmed. So much for that…

You're still not quite sure if this is all really happening or not. Actually, there are a lot of reasons that would speak against it. You could just test it out. What should you do again to see if you are dreaming or not? Oh yes, pinch your arm. You raise your left arm in front of your chest and pinch your skin once with your fingers. Ouch! That hurt more than you expected it to! A hand comes into your field of vision, grabs your hand and holds it tightly. Startled, you look up to see a red eye and a white eye staring back at you, visibly concerned. "You're hurting yourself," his voice sounds slightly worried. His reaction surprises you so much that you automatically stutter out an, "Sorry." Your mind, meanwhile, is spinning. It hurt.

The spot on your arm still throbs mildly from the pain. And you clearly feel his hand resting around your wrist. This… this can't possibly be real. It would be beyond absurd. Far from all logic. As if in trance, you raise your free hand, placing it shakily on his face, because you simply have to make sure. He holds still, not shying away from your touch even if he seems a bit surprised by it. Slowly you stroke over every little bump and dip. Tracing the little grooves in his face with your fingers. It feels far too real to be a dream. While it should be impossible, you realize that this isn't a daydream. He is really here. Just like you're really here. "But how… " you whisper and fall silent again. You can't help but remember the half-faded memory of that evening. Your first visit in the basement. Your first meeting with your "friend". A doll. So big that you fitted into its lap. That you pretended it was real. Because you felt lonely and didn't wanted to be alone. You spent an entire evening with him as a child. Your throat feels like it's closing up. Your parents never really scolded you before. Except back then. They knew, you realize, and you see the pitiful remains of the torn paper heart as clearly before your eyes as if they were actually lying there in front of you. You cried for so long, even days later you were heartbroken and felt terrible. Because your parents had taken your friend's heart from him. 'Cause they had torn it into little pieces that you couldn't have patched up together with all the duct tape in the world. And because they had locked him back in the dark basement all alone. Oh god… that just… couldn't… be… Finally you begin to understand what's happening here. And at the same time you feel as if you don't understand anything anymore. Confused, you withdraw your hand from his face. "How can that be? How can it be that you… that you are alive?" In your heart you already know the answer, but you need to hear it. Because head-wise, you just can't understand it. Because it shouldn't be possible. Because such things as magic and the like don't really exist. Should not exist. Magic doesn't exist. Not like in the stories you know from your books. He looks at you, the index finger of his free hand first pointing at you, then tapping against the closed flap on his chest. "You gifted us with a heart," his hand rests on his chest in an downright tender gesture, almost as if he can feel the paper heart beating inside it. Wow… that's just… all a bit too much at once. "I… I don't understand how… I mean it was just… ", just a paper heart. That's all it was. So how… You didn't even realize he was still holding your right hand. Until he slowly lets go of it and you feel like you're about to lose the ground under your feet.

In the next moment his hands are already wrapped around you again and this time you understand that he is doing this to pull you into a hug. He never intended to harm you… This time he is also much more careful with you. Like you might break if he touches you too roughly. Or maybe he's just worried you might have another panic attack. You just let him hold you. And although you feel completely overwhelmed, you don't even feel a hint of fear anymore, unlike before. No idea if that is wise or not. Maybe it would be normal to be afraid. To run away from him as fast as possible. But… instead, all you can think about is how long he was locked away in the darkness. Completely abandoned and nearly forgotten with time. Perhaps he had hoped that you would set him free? That you as his friend would come one day and save him? How lonely it must have been to spend all those years down there, without knowing when someone would finally come to look after him… "… what are we supposed to do now?", you hear yourself wondering and feel your hands clinging to him, because you fear that otherwise one of you might just vanish into thin air.

You have no idea how long you both stood there before your head finally felt clear enough to fully register your surroundings. At some point, he started humming softly to himself and stroking your back. Much like you would do with a frightened child. It's soothing. You have to admit that much to yourself. Your forehead rests against his chest. Which, amazingly, actually feels a tiny bit warm and yielding. Not like a human or a normal living being, but still… He is alive. You still can't really make sense of all these things that are happening here, but… at least you've collected yourself enough that you don't feel like you're losing your mind anymore. For the time being, you hope it will stay that way. You go over all the information you've received from him so far in your head. Somehow your self-made paper heart has managed to give him some life. For the… second time. You try to remember the details of your first meeting, but it has been so awfully long ago that it is difficult for you. You think he looked a little different then. Before he came to life, he didn't look the same either. The spikes around his head are missing. And there are bells on the red bands of his wrists that definitely weren't there before. And his colors seem less pale and much more vibrant. You're not quite sure what it means. Maybe it's not too important. At least not so important that you need answers to it right away. Some questions can certainly wait. One thing is clear, though. The idea with the scrapyard is totally canceled! You already felt terrible about it when you considered that option, but now that he's alive, you have no doubt that it would be downright wrong to do that to him.

In some way, it's almost luck that your parents are gone and you now live here alone. As soon as you start thinking about it, you regret the thought. You feel guilty for thinking such things, because it sounds like you are glad that they went missing - or possibly even dead. You may have no idea why they acted the way they did back then, but maybe now that you're an adult you could have talked to them calmly about the situation? Stopped them from locking him away again? Maybe they could have given you answers to some of the questions that your friend can't seem to give you. Well… either way, there's no use thinking about it anymore. They won't be coming back… So it shouldn't be a problem to keep your friend here in the house. The nearest neighbors also live pretty far away. The house is so far out of town that usually no one comes here without a reason. So you don't have to worry about anyone discovering him soon. You don't even want to imagine the chaos that would otherwise follow. Still, you'll probably have to give it some thought. Just in case of an emergency. That is… if he even wants to stay with you… You feel your heart sink a little. You've just accepted it. But… actually, you have no idea what he is thinking about this matter. Or if he has a place where he truly belongs. To which he is drawn. You would like to ask him about it. You want to talk to him and you remember that he doesn't have a name. "Um… say… would… it be okay if I gave you a name?" Oddly tense as if you're asking him something unimaginably stupid, you await his answer. Chances are, he's not okay with this at all. His hand comes to a rest on your back in mid-motion. Carefully you look up at him, noticing that your cheeks are getting a little warmer from embarrassment, and you try to guess from his face what he is thinking. He… looks stunned. Like he didn't expect you to ask him something like that. Oh darn! It probably was a stupid idea in the first place!

"Say it," he whispers to you. His eyes resting gently on you. His smile seems much softer than before. O-okay? Guess that counts as a yes, then. "So… I was thinking… maybe… Moon," you suggest, incredibly nervous. Maybe the name is too childish… or too simple, but when you looked at him, it was the first thing that came to your mind. He just reminds you of the moon. And… and… geez. You look up at him and for some reason you're already expecting him to make a grimace. Maybe it's not such a great idea as you first thought! "I-if you don't like it then-" "Accepted," he interrupts you with a wide and almost amused grin on his face. Against all odds, he looks pleased about his new name. "Oh. Oh… good! Well then… nice to meet you Moon," you smile at him a bit sheepishly and just say the name again to test how it feels. It sounds right to call him so and he also looks at you delighted. Wow. You really feel much better now. He… likes his name. Moon likes his new name! You can't hold back the big smile that appears on your lips. Unfortunately, it is slightly dampened when you think about what you actually wanted to ask him. "Well… I… was wondering… what you're up to now. I mean now that you're alive and all," you explain in a rush. Maybe a little too rushed, but you'd rather get this over with quickly than drag out the question forever. Still, you feel uneasy about it now. As if you could lose your newly found friend right away. " … ", he seems to be thinking. His head lowers towards you. You feel it leaning gently against yours. It's strange how soothing his presence is to you. "Fulfilling your wish." What? "My… wish?" you repeat, confused and with no idea what he's talking about. You don't remember ever having mentioned anything in this direction. And he makes no attempt to be more specific. You feel his fingers digging a little more into the fabric of your shirt before they slowly loosen. The weight of his head on yours also lightens as he straightens himself a little. You have the feeling that Moon wants to say something to you. His hand moves from your back down along your arm and all the way to your hand, which he takes in his and lifts it in front of his face to take a closer look at it for whatever reason. "You should wash your hands~" For a moment, you're silent. Then the corners of your mouth move up and you can no longer manage to fight down the laughter rising in your throat.

"Seriously?" you ask, half in disbelief, half laughing. Of all the things he could have told you, this is what's bothering him the most? You fight your laughing fit with a few deep breaths, some scattered chuckles still creeping into them, and see his eyes narrow into a satisfied smile. "Fine. If you give me my hand back… " you wiggle the fingers of the hand he's holding demonstratively. "I'll gladly do as you say," you finish the sentence with an amused snort. Somehow, the tension is finally gone now. You smile kindly at him and watch as his fingers slowly let go of your hand. You had planned to wash your hands from the beginning anyway, before a certain someone stopped you by giving you the fright of your life with a hug! He follows you around the table, watching every single step you take with great interest. From opening the faucet to washing your sticky and glittery hands with a little soap under the water stream. After you finally get all the sticky and glittery stuff washed off your hands, you turn the faucet off again. Only to see a hand reach past you and push the faucet lever in front of you open and shut several times before his hand withdraws and he turns his attention fully back to you. Hmmm. You should probably give him a little crash course soon on how certain things work around the house. Just so he doesn't accidentally flood your kitchen or bathroom.

"I'll give you a little house tour later." You peer over your shoulder at him as you dry your hands on a dish towel. "I mean… " you take a deep breath. So far, none of you has said it directly. Again, you feel a small pang of nervousness rising in the pit of your stomach. It's all good. Just say what you're thinking. What's the worst that can happen? "… I was just thinking… if you don't have any other plans and… want to stay here, then it might be easier if you know quickly where everything is and how things work", you try to smile confidently, but you can't quite pull it off. Damn, you feel queasy, because you still don't know if he's planning to stay here at all. Why do you even get your hopes up? That's stupid, if not quite selfish of you. Moon can do whatever he wants and doesn't owe you anything. Besides, you would feel even worse if he would stay with you only out of pity or some weird sense of duty…

His posture stiffens a bit and he ducks down so far that he now has to look up at you instead of the other way around. "You… want us to stay?" It almost sounds like he can't quite believe it. … maybe… Moon had felt as insecure as you this whole time? Wondering if you wanted him here or if you were going to send him away. You put the towel aside, carefully turning to face him and leaning towards him to be at the same face level as he is. "I mean, you need a home, right?" Moon still seems hesitant. Or in doubt. You're not quite sure why. "Listen Moon. I… I don't want to force you to stay here if that's not what you want," you explain in a hurry, backpedaling from your last statement, thinking that he might feel compelled to follow your wishes. Perhaps you were mistaken and he was only so hesitant because he had no intention of staying here and your suggestion is now pushing him in that direction? Wow! You did exactly what you said you wouldn't do and feel upset about yourself. Hopefully you can set things straight again. "You are free to go wherever you like, I just thought… if this is a place you could stay… or wanted to stay… then… " Then… it would be nice if he would choose staying with you. But you can't say that without risking to influence his decision or make him feel bad in the end. So you keep that part to yourself.

His hand reaches out to you. You feel his so much larger, cool fingers touch your hand. Gently clasping it. His head is turned toward the floor, making it impossible for you to tell what kind of face he's making. The tip of his dark blue nightcap dangles back and forth between you. And even though you're so close to him, you have trouble understanding his voice when he finally answers you. "Are you sure? Do you really want us with you?" He sounds shaken. Almost afraid. As if he couldn't quite believe that this is what you really want. That it's too absurd that you could want him near you. Even though it hurts you to see him so crushed, you feel your little glimmer of hope from earlier coming back and gently asking to be let in. Evidently you weren't so wrong with one of your previous assumptions. Well… in this case… it might be okay if you be honest with him now. When instead of holding back, you tell him what you want to dispel his doubts. "Yes. I am sure of it. I want you to stay with me," you leave no room for doubt when you say those words. Of course you are insecure about many things and you have a thousand questions and no idea if you will find the answers to all of them. You also don't have the slightest idea what exactly he is. Surely you will encounter some problems. Perhaps not everything will always be easy. But all this doesn't change the fact that you want him to stay with you. That you want to give him a home. If you encounter problems, you will find solutions for them! That's what friends are for, after all. Together you'll get through it. "You're my friend, after all," you add with a soft smile, and with the index finger of your free hand, you give the bell on his cap a little poke, causing it to chime lightly. His head slowly lifts and finally you can look him in the face again. Moon looks like he still can't quite grasp what you've just told him, but slowly it seems to come through to him how sincere you are about it. Without hesitating, you grab his free hand and pull him up with you until you are both standing upright again. With a beaming smile on your face, you look at your tall friend. You want to show him that everything is alright and he doesn't need to worry. This time you are the one taking the initiative and hugging him. Also in order to show him that you really want him to be here. It seems to work, because you can see the corners of his mouth moving up bit by bit until he returns your smile. "Then we'll stay."

You feel sooooooo much better after this is finally settled. In fact, you're so relieved that you're just now realizing that you're pretty hungry. Well, no surprise there. Time for dinner is long overdue. The house tour will just have to wait a tad longer. Ever so carefully, you step out of the embrace. "I guess I should prepare dinner. Are you hungry too?" Could living dolls - or whatever he is - actually get hungry? And if so… did he need anything special to eat? You look at him a little questioningly, and his faceplate tilts away to the side at that unnatural angle again. Is he trying to imitate you right now? "Hungry?" he asks, and you're not quite sure if that means he's hungry or not sure what that even means. Frowning in thought, you look at his mouth. When Moon speaks, it sometimes moves, but somehow still seems like it's carved into his face, which makes it all the more amazing that Moon can show so much facial expression. The observation, while fascinating, leaves you about as wise as you were before. You have no idea if your friend here can even eat food. Logically, it seems completely impossible, but you probably won't get very far with logic, considering the situation you're in.

"Just wait… I'll prepare something and then we can test whether you can eat it or not." You don't have a better idea at hand at the moment and you doubt that an internet search on the subject would help you much. So you start rummaging around in the kitchen cupboards and the fridge for something edible that you can prepare without much effort. Always closely followed by your new roommate. A little too close, as you quickly realize when you turn away from the fridge with your hands full and almost bump into him. "Oh boy. That was close," you stifle a laugh, but have to smile nonetheless. "Moon," you say softly, drawing out the O a little. "You're welcome to watch me, but please do it in a way that I don't accidentally run into you. We don't want to cause any accidents in the kitchen. All right?" you ask him without sounding annoyed, merely giving him an amused look. Luckily, so far you've only had some vegetables, cheese, and a pack of sliced ham in your hand, and not a sharp knife. So everything turned out fine. No one got hurt and so there is no reason to panic. You can understand that this is all new to him. That he wants to know what you're doing. He's acting a bit like Gav when he was a little kid and always wanted to see what Mitch and you were doing, even if you were just fixing the tire on one of your bikes. So Moon possibly feels the same way as Mitch's little brother did back then. Thankfully, he does as you ask and stands at your side while you spread out the food from the fridge on the countertop. Yeah, this is much more comfortable when working.

Since it's already quite late, you won't start cooking anything. But at least you still have the motivation to make some sandwiches. With your newly gained freedom to move, it goes pretty quickly. In no time, the fresh vegetables are washed and cut with a knife. The tomato and cucumber slices land together with the lettuce leaves neatly arranged on the sandwich halves smeared with butter. To be on the safe side, you put cheese on two of the sandwiches and ham on two of the other sandwiches, because you're not sure which of them would be more to Moon's liking. That is, if any of it is to his taste at all. Well, you will have to try and see what works. Smiling, you lift the two plates of sandwiches. "It's nothing special, but: Dinner's ready~" you announce with a gleeful grin to your friend, and carry the plates over to a spot on the table where there's no craft stuff in the way to place them. "Come on, let's sit down." You pull up a chair for Moon and then another for yourself on which you take a seat. With the palm of your hand, you tap the empty chair next to you, smiling and motioning for him to do the same. He comes closer, his hand stroking the wooden back of the chair before he carefully sits down on it and looks at you eagerly, as if he wants to know what will happen next. The scene is actually kind of cute.

But okay, you don't want to put him on the rack any longer! You grab one of the cheese sandwiches and hold it out to Moon. "Here you go," you watch excitedly as he cautiously takes it from you and holds it closer in front of his face, where he looks at it from all sides as if he hadn't just seen how you had prepared it yourself. However… he doesn't make any attempt to eat it. On the contrary, he holds it out to you again. Huh… Does he just want to mirror your gesture from before? He seems to imitate some of the things you do. Or does he just not know what to do with it? "It's meant to be eaten," you explain, but his head just tilts to the side again, while his arm continues to be stretched out towards you. You cross your arms and put your head back for a moment, pondering. " Well… it's like… ", how do you explain eating? Oh! Maybe it would be easier to just show him! You look at him with a confident grin. "I'll show you how to do it, okay?" you blurt out being plenty motivated and thinking it's a pretty good idea. Showing, rather than telling. You bend over a little and bite off a piece of the top of the sandwich he is still holding in front of your nose anyway. "See? Like this," you say as you chew, hoping that's descriptive enough for him to understand. "You… chew it… and… swallow it behind when you're done," you try to explain further with your mouth full. Tensely, you watch Moon pull his hand back, look at the bitten part, then back at you, and no sooner as you've swallowed it down, he's holding the sandwich out to you again. His eyes shine a tiny bit brighter, making him look really gleeful. "Say, Ahhh," his voice sounds downright teasing and his mouth twists into a wide, playful grin.

You raise your eyebrows when you hear him. You didn't teach him that…. … He knows exactly what he's doing! Oh, what a trickster~! You laugh out loud and shake your head at him in disbelief. "You do realize I'm not a child you have to feed. Right?" His amused expression doesn't falter one bit. "Doesn't matter. You have to eat," he makes it sound like there's nothing more to it and that he hasn't just fooled you for his own amusement by making you think he had no idea what it meant to eat. Apparently, behind the quiet facade of your new roommate hides quite a little prankster. Which probably means that your time with him certainly won't be boring, as you happily note to yourself. "That may be true, but you could have told me something if you already knew what eating meant." "… You didn't ask. Besides, it was funnier that way~", a soft giggle reaches your ears and you roll your eyes, grinning at his comment. Well, at least he's honest enough to admit it. "Meanie," you reply without meaning it seriously, since it is way too hard to take offence at his little joke. And in fact, instead of asking him about it, you jumped to the wrong conclusions from his behavior and decided to act ahead of things. So next time you will try to play it safe first. But in any case, it also means that he already has a bit of basic knowledge. Besides, you've noticed for a while now that he understands you a lot better and knows how to express himself than he seemed to in the beginning. Which is really good! That means you can talk so much easier with each other! Maybe he can read as well? You should definitely find out! But maybe not right now. One thing at a time. "All right. I've learned my lesson. So would you be so kind and tell me if you need to eat?" you ask him, becoming a bit more serious. After all, you want to be able to take good care of him. "Eating is not necessary," he tells you as if the idea alone is very silly to him. Okay. But not necessary and not possible were still two different pairs of shoes. And the one did not automatically exclude the other. As if he had already guessed your thoughts, he keeps talking.

"We can't take it to us anyway." "Oh." Well… so much for that, then. You lightly rub the back of your neck with your hand. "I see… " That's almost a bit of a shame. It probably would have been fun to cook for two instead of just for you. But no big deal. At least you're a little smarter now! "Okay, so no edibles. But… is there anything else you need? To feel… well?" You're not sure yourself what else he might need. Water? Magic? Sunshine? Electricity? Nonsense, he is not a machine. And not Frankenstein's monster either. But does he need… some kind of energy to move? Some bizarre magic ritual? A bath in the light of the full moon or something whacky like that? Slightly braced, you hope for an answer to this question. The sly expression from earlier has disappeared from his face, suddenly looking much softer as he stares at you and assures you: "We have everything we need. No need to worry about it." You're not quite sure if that's true, but there's no reason to doubt Moon's words either. So you decide to trust him and nod slightly. "Fine, I'll take you at your word. But if there's ever anything I can help you with or so, tell me right away. No need for false modesty. Okay?", the least you can do is offer your help to him. Not that he's just holding back for some odd reason. You know how it feels when you don't say what you actually want out of consideration for others, and you'd just be happy if he'd be straightforward with you instead, if there's something you can do for him. "Agreed~." You close your eyes and breathe out slowly. Good, so that's also clarified. You've learned something new again. When you open your eyes, you find the sandwich you have bitten into right in front of your face. Again. "Now eat." He makes no move to put it in your hand, obviously wanting to continue feeding you. Also, the playful grin is back. For maybe five seconds, you consider whether it's worth the effort or your pride to get into a discussion with him that he really doesn't has to feed you to make you eat. You decide: No, it's not worth it. So you just take a good bite of the sandwich offered to you. Let him have his fun, you will certainly not let him tease you with something like this.

During your house tour, Moon followed you like a duckling wherever you led him, while he curiously looked at the individual rooms on the first floor, which included the kitchen, the living room, a small bathroom, and a guest room. You only left out the basement for obvious reasons. Since neither of you was particularly eager to go back down there. At this point, you're leaving the bathroom upstairs, which is a lot bigger than the one downstairs and also has a bathtub in it. You want to save your room for last. So you turn right and follow the hallway to the end, where there are two doors opposing each other. "And this is… this is… ", your shoulders stiffen a bit as you stare at the closed door of your parents' now unused bedroom. "Well… my parents' bedroom." Unlike the other rooms, you hesitate to open it. It still feels awkward to just walk in there, even after nearly a year. You don't usually enter it unless you air it out or do some vacuuming and dusting once a month in there. Reaching for the door handle, your hand pushes it down to open the door. You've left mostly everything as it is. Except for the bedding, which you took off at some point to wash it before putting it away in the large closet on the wall so it wouldn't collect any more dust. Unlike the other rooms, you stop at the doorstep, not entering, but give Moon a chance to go in. However, he seems to notice that this room makes you uncomfortable, because like you, he refrains from going inside and just looks at it from the hallway. "They are no longer here. They… um… never mind, it isn't that important… Anyway, it's just the two of us here. So… no need to worry, okay?" This time he doesn't have to worry about losing his heart or his newfound freedom again. Since Moon don't look like he wants to go in, you carefully close the door before turning to the other one.

Much less timidly, you open it and turn on the light as you enter. "Well, and this is their study," the room is quite large. Lots of piled up bookshelves with old looking books and file folders that line up in what feels like endless rows are in here. A large desk made out of dark wood stands near the shelves, while there is a small sitting area at the other end of the room that consists of a flat table, an armchair, and a sofa that can fit two people. Both the desk and the flat table have various writing utensils and closed folders lying around. The loose papers with handwritten notes, which used to be scattered all over the place, have been stored in empty boxes over the months and then dumped next to the armchair, because you didn't know what else to do with them. On the one hand it looks much neater and on the other hand it doesn't collect dust like that. You lean against the front edge of the heavy desk while you watch Moon walking past the rows of shelves and examining some of the books with curious interest. "They've gathered a lot of documents about all the things in the basement up here. I think it was some sort of hobby of theirs? You know, collecting antiques and whatnot and doing research on its history. They also collected all kinds of articles about some pretty wild stories and stuff like that. Some of the books are quite obscure. Folklore, tales from different regions, some pseudo-occult works that somebody came up with at some point. I've just flipped through them here and there." In the hope that it might give you a clue about their whereabouts. But it didn't lead you anywhere.

"I looked at some of the articles, too. There's… some pretty heavy stuff in there about… ", you shake your head and grimace a little. No, you decide you'd rather not tell Moon about any details of that nasty stuff. "Doesn't matter what exactly was in it. Half of it was probably just nonsense anyway," stuff that some newspapers have hyped up to make headlines or came from shady newspaper publishing companies anyway. "Let's just say… I'm not too fond of scary stories and the like," you admit with a slight sigh. One more reason why you've rarely stayed here in the study. But maybe… some of the stories and articles weren't so far-fetched when you think about who you're talking to. In a way, you are experiencing firsthand an encounter with the supernatural. Except it doesn't feel like one of those horrible horror stories at all. "Haaaaaaah," you take a deep breath to regain your composure and give Moon a small smile, who is eyeing you thoughtfully. "Anyway, they traveled around a lot because of that and for their work too." At least, that's what you've always thought… Now you're not so certain anymore, considering that your childhood experience wasn't pure imagination, and your parents clearly kept you away from Moon on purpose. For whatever reason. If you think about it, maybe their so-called hobby was more related to their week-long work trips than you always thought. Moon is silently listening to you so far. Just lets you keep talking and somehow you're quite glad he's not asking you any questions. You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants and shift your weight nervously from one foot to the other. "… but… maybe I didn't know them as well as I thought I did," you mumble, shrugging your shoulders slightly. It's not as easy for you to talk about the two as you wish. Who knows what else your parents kept hidden from you. "Anyway… you're always welcome to look around in here if you like or if you find anything in here interesting," maybe you should take a closer look at the folders yourself. Perhaps then you might be able to find out what exactly your old friend is. Well… now there's only one room left… You start smiling again, take your hands out of your pockets and hold out your hand to Moon. "Come, I want to show you my room", you are so excited to finally show it to him!

Walking hand in hand, you gently pull Moon along with you, leading him to the other end of the hallway. "Behind the door on the right is the staircase to the attic. There's just a bunch of dusty boxes with old clothes, toys and books. Oh and some furniture that's been replaced. So everything that nobody needed anymore, but was considered too good to throw away. And I guess, a dozen or more spiders are living up there. So we'd better not disturb them," you explain much more cheerfully than before, winking briefly at your friend, for which you earn an amused smile from him before turning to the other door. "And this is my room," you say, opening the door right away. Gently releasing Moon's hand, you take a step into the room and flip on the light switch. You wave cheerfully for him to come in. Moon looks at you with a visibly amused expression on his face before he accepts your invitation and follows you. Does he recognize it? The room has changed a lot since you were a child. Well, no wonder. You're not eight anymore, after all. And you definitely wouldn't fit in your old bed anymore! Your new bed, on the other hand, has plenty of room for you to spread your legs and roll around in it to your heart's content. A thin blanket for the warm summer nights and lots of soft pillows with different patterned covers are lying inside, just waiting for you to snuggle into them soon to get a good night's sleep. Except for the big, snow-white and very round bird stuffed animal that sits between the pillows on your bed and that you fell in love with when you were a kid, the rest of your toys have gone either to the attic or to the children of acquaintances of your parents over the years, where they still served a good purpose.

On the left side of the bed stands a small night table. A book is lying on it with a bookmark sticking out. Your digital alarm clock is next to it and you try to suppress a rising yawn as you read the time on the display. Normally, you'd be in bed by now. But today is anything but normal. Moon takes a good look around. He walks through your room in his somewhat cowering posture, reminding you a bit of a shy animal getting accustomed to a new environment. Everything that seems remotely interesting to him he takes in his hands to give it a closer look before putting it back at the exact spot he found it. Now he holds one of the small plastic stars in his hand, which once hung on the ceiling of your room and are now scattered on the bookshelves as decoration. The last of the luminous stars on your ceiling fell down a few years ago, which you took as an opportunity to paint the ceiling yourself a dark sea green that contrasts nicely with the rest of the light-colored walls. "They fell off the ceiling over time," you tell him, standing next to him. He turns the star back and forth between his dark blue fingertips. Looks like he likes it. Well… his clothes have a pretty straightforward theme, judging by the pattern of his cap and pants, which are covered in yellow stars. "One year, nearly every two weeks, one came off. Perfect year for watching shooting stars," looking back it was darn funny and there wasn't a morning that went by that you didn't check to see if you could find another one of the plastic stars somewhere in your bed. "One time one fell on my head in the middle of the night." Moon looks up at you. He tilts his head to the side. A smile lingers in his eyes as he listens with interest. So you just keep talking. "I didn't noticed until I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth in front of the mirror," you babble and smile a bit sheepish at him. His gaze wanders from you to the star in his hand and back again. In the next moment, he rises to his full height and gently tucks the star in his hand behind your ear. Um… what's this about? You stare at him, dumbfounded. Not moving. His face is close to yours and you notice a mischievous twinkle in his mismatched eyes. "You should have made a wish," he whispers to you and you think you hear a suppressed laugh in his voice. "Huh?", wish for something? It takes you a second before you realize he's talking about the stars. Oh jeez! Now you're back to smiling. "I don't think that counts for plastic stars." It's a cute thought, though. "Putting that aside, it would be super tough to say your wish three times as fast as they fall to the floor," you object, looking at him with amusement. Your hand carefully searches for the small star he's tucked behind your ear. "And… I wouldn't know what to wish for anyway," you confess, smiling softly, and slowly pulling the star from behind your ear before placing it back in Moon's hand. Even the heavens might not be able to make some things come true, no matter how many times you would have entrusted your wishes to it. Not that you believe much in such things as higher powers or any gods. And… it's not that you are unhappy. Everything could be much worse, you always tell yourself. You have everything you need to get along on your own. However, from now on you aren't alone anymore. The thought is still so new to you that you can hardly believe it. Moon eyes you lost in thought for a sec. The red light around his pupils flickers softly as his eyes wander back to the plastic star you gave him back. He puts it on the shelf and continues his little tour through your room.

You show Moon the rest of the room, which is quite large and spacious, just like your parents' bedroom. You really never could complain about a lack of space. There is not much left from the time when this was your childhood bedroom. Aside from a few fairy tale books, most of your children's books have been replaced by a variety of non-fiction books about plants and gardening, as that subject has taken up more and more space in your progressing life. Your favorite novels have their own little corner on the two bottom wall shelves to the left of the bed. On the upmost shelf, on the other hand, is a collection of smaller, uniquely shaped and colored nightlights. You are especially fond of the small glass dome with the wooden base on which are several pink blossoming LED tulips. Currently they are turned off, but when you turn them on they emit an incredibly pleasant light in the dark. If you feel like setting a bit of a cozy atmosphere in the evening, you turn on your little collection while you watch a movie on your laptop or listen to some music on your bed in the partial darkness.

You push the two heavy curtains aside to show Moon the hidden bay window behind them, it's the counterpart to the one in the bedroom across the hall. An upholstered bench seat with a few cushions and a bedspread are tucked inside. "During daytime, you have a really nice view over the back garden from here. I'm sure you'll love it," you love sitting here to read or just daydream a bit while staring outside. "Can't see much of it now, I'm afraid," you admit sheepishly, kneeling slightly on the bench to take a look out the window. "But when the lights are off in the room, you get a good view of the stars, if it's not cloudy," there are some benefits to living so far out of town. You climb all the way up on the bench and gesture for him to join you. If you bend your legs a little and move close enough to the window panes, there is enough room for the two of you to sit. The wood creaks a little as he joins you, but it easily holds your combined weight. Like you, he pulls his long legs as close to his body as he can and tries to make himself as small as possible. The sight automatically brings a happy smile to your face and carefully you lean a bit to the side to reach for the curtains and draw them shut so that the rest of your room is no longer visible. It's much dimmer now that the light from the ceiling lamp is no longer reaching you both with its full brightness. You lean back again, placing one of the pillows in your back to sit more comfortably, and you take on an almost conspiratorial tone as you tell him: "Now it's our little secret hideout where no one will ever find us." At least, that's what you often told yourself as a kid. "Just the two of us," he confirms cheerfully, his eyes now shining much more intensely in the dim light and reflecting in the dark window panes while casting a soft red glow on you two.

"Mhm, hey, Moon?", you almost whisper. "Yeah?" you hear him respond just as quietly. You pull your knees closer to you, resting your arms around them and your head on them. "… I'm sorry I didn't get you out of there sooner," you murmur lowly. Your heart feels heavy while you speak and you lower your gaze a little. And although he hasn't shown any signs of being angry with you about it yet, you couldn't blame him if he was. No matter how hard you try, you can't even begin to imagine how traumatic it must have been to have your heart ripped out of your chest and then destroyed. What it must feel like to spend years locked up all alone in darkness… Before you can dwell any longer on it, a hand wraps around your shoulder. You notice how Moon changes his sitting position and pulls you over to him. Before you have a chance to stop him, you find yourself sitting in his lap, forehead resting against the blue fabric of his collar. He strokes you tenderly over the head. "Not your fault," Moon whispers softly. "But… I should have… ", you attempt to speak, feeling your voice tremble as you do so. "Shh. It's all right. No need to cry. Keep the bad thoughts away." Even though he says that, you're still so terribly sorry for what happened to him. And yet here he sits, comforting you now. Shouldn't it be the other way around? "Was it painful? Were you lonely?" you ask in a quiet voice. " … ", at first he doesn't answer and you're unsure if maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. "I… don't know. Can't remember. Only blurred fragments. Flashes. Not sure why… " He lifts one hand, puts it lightly on his face as if he was touching his forehead in an attempt to remember. Meanwhile, with the other hand, he holds you a little tighter.

He… doesn't remember? Is it just the time between your reunion or… does it also include your first encounter? Your right hand wanders to his chest, where it halts over the hidden chamber. You lean a little closer against him as you listen silently. It's the only thing you can do for him right now. "Before… I woke up, everything is… like static. Vague shapes. The first clear memory is you. Your back. You felt familiar. I knew you were our friend," his hand lowers again, gently stroking your cheek and you feel his face press gently against your head in a familiar gesture. You put your arms around him, holding him close as your head spins, like a merry-go-round. Moon is suffering from amnesia. He can't seem to remember your first time together. And yet, in a way, he recognized you. Didn't forget you completely. Could it be… that it has to do with the fact that his original heart was destroyed? Is that why he has trouble remembering? You unconsciously cling to him a little more. "I… I'll take care of you from now on," you promise him. You mean it. You're no longer a helpless little kid who can only watch and cry when his friend needs help. You won't let the past repeat itself. "I know," he answers as if he never even doubted it.

By now, you feel really exhausted. Sleepy and on the brink of falling asleep. A soft yawn comes out of your mouth. Your body feels heavy and the fact that Moon has started patting your head and humming softly in your dim hideout doesn't make it any easier to find the strength to get up again. "You should sleep. It's late," you hear him whisper close to your ear. You smile a little at that. "Mhmmmm. You're probably right… but… not here," you try to shake off the tiredness and slowly sit up. "As cozy as this is… ", and dang, it really is. "… I still have to prepare a place for you to sleep first." "No need. This will do." You raise an eyebrow and look up at him, puzzled. "You sure? I mean you could have the guest room. Or I could at least get you a mattress topper and put it next to my bed if you'd rather stay in my room. I'm sure that's more comfortable for sleeping than the bench," not that you haven't managed to fall asleep here yourself, but still. "Don't need sleep." You blink at him in surprise. Oh… okay? Guess it was like the no food thing then. "Huh. Alright, I guess? Um… do you need anything else for the night then? So you don't get bored?" "I'll just watch you sleep. Scare away naughty nightmares when they sneak up on you." Looks like Moon's gone back to making silly jokes. You smile a little at this, but it's already showing how tired you are. "Not creepy at all~ But if it makes you happy, fine by me," let him watch you sleep if he wants. He allows you to climb off his lap and you slide the curtains aside to hop off the bench. "But if you do get bored at some point, you're welcome to explore the house. Just… keep your hands off any switches that aren't for turning on or off the lights or faucets for now until I have explained to you how all the stuff works tomorrow. Okay?" "Understood. We'll behave," he replies with such a sly grin that you hope he'll truly follow your request. Well, chances are he's just trying to tease you a little and will actually be good. "Great. Then… I'll just go downstairs to turn off the lights, brush my teeth and change into something comfy," you announce and search for your pajama under the blanket in your bed. Ah there it is. "Just make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back," you call out to him as you're halfway out the door.

There, you've changed. All the doors are locked, the shutters are down, and you've filled your thermos with tea when you stopped by the kitchen to turn off the lights. By now you realize how the exhaustion of the day sinks into your bones. You click the light switch and the hallway light goes off as you enter your room and freeze in the middle of the doorway, only to let out a rather loud snort shortly after. Moon sits half sunken in the large beanbag chair that stands next to the bay window. He's looking rather grumpy, and the way his long limbs stick out at odd angles beyond the ends of the beanbag doesn't look comfortable at all. You giggle softly and receive an offended look from him before he stretches his arms out to you as if asking for help. "We're sinking! It's eating us!" he says in such an exaggerated manner that it reminds you of a performance from one of those trash movies Mitch sometimes brings over to watch with you. "Coming~" you reply with a grin, but before you do you leisurely set your thermos down on the nightstand and flick on the small lamp next to it before walking around the bed towards him. "Hurry! Help us! Before we get all gobbled up!" You look at him with amusement. What an actor. He probably wouldn't have any trouble freeing himself in the first place. "It's fine. See? I'm already here," smiling, you grab his hands that are reaching out to you and pull him out of the oh-so-dangerous death trap without really having to put much effort into it. "Looks like you're still in one piece," you comment with a smile as he stands in front of you. "Just barely," Moon replies with a wide grin, and you give him a gentle smack on the chest. Which he immediately uses as an opportunity to throw himself backwards and right into the so-called death trap. He is kicking his arms as if in agony. "Oh no! You've pushed us! We're trapped again and dying!" He makes a noise as if it were his last breath and shortly thereafter remains motionless. You already have tears in your eyes from laughing. If you hadn't left your cell phone in the living room downstairs, you would have been recording a video right now. "Okay, okay. Enough dying for tonight," you grab his limply lying hand on the floor and watch as one of his eyes, which had darkened earlier, comes back to life with a red flicker and stares at you, mockingly, as you hear him chuckle softly at his own joke. A yawn is mixed in between your scattered chuckles once again, and you rub your eyes with your free hand a little. His fingers wrap around the hand that's holding him, and this time Moon is up before you could even make the attempt to pull him to his feet. "Time for bed," he murmurs and you merely nod in agreement. Sounds like a great idea to you.

You let Moon lead you to your bed while he's holding your hand. Oh, darn, you totally forgot… "I have to turn off…," the light, is what you want to say. But Moon cuts you off midsentence. "Lie down. I'll take care of it," gently he pushes you onto the mattress and you don't protest any further. You hear him scurry over to the door and in the next moment the big ceiling lamp goes dark. Tired, you crawl under the covers as you watch him come back to your bed and sit down on the floor to your left. You feel around with one hand for the switch on the bedside lamp and flip it off before rolling over to the other bedside where he is waiting. The room is completely dark now. Well… almost. Moon's red eyes glow softly in the dark. However, it's not the only thing that glows. The stars on his clothes also stick out against their dark background. He really is full of surprises, isn't he? The familiar sight of the glowing stars brings a small smile to your face. From under the covers, you reach out your hand and holding it out to him. Once again, his cool fingers wrap around yours. It is reassuring to feel his presence. To know that he is right next to you. "Good night, Moon. See you tomorrow," you mumble sleepy. A faint "Nighty-night" is all you hear before you are already fast asleep.

[votederpycausemufins]

Yes I know it's been over a year. Life has been craaaazy. Like I graduated, I got a job, I almost died, I got a new computer, stuff like that. I mentioned some of it in other fic stuff, but maybe you're just here for this scattered fic based on the au from @hermitcraftheadcanons

Fun detail is Evil X and Grum's sections I actually pulled up mc and played to make things more accurate. I mean i messed with my spawn location since you don't normally end up where they did, but otherwise i actually did it.

The Watchers jumped slightly when Xelqua slammed his hand on the table along with a number of papers. “There. All done before the nutshell.”

No one said anything as Zem picked up the papers, reading them over as Xelqua grinned, feathers ruffling excitedly. Yus looked over Zem’s shoulder to read along, sometimes moving the papers to get a look at something they missed. It took a few minutes before Zem handed the whole stack over to Yus so they could really look through it as well as show to the other three. “So, it looks mostly alright, but I want to ask a few things first.”

“Go ahead!” Xelqua happily agreed, quickly building himself a chair and sitting in it, making Zem narrow his eyes.

“First, how were you able to prepare this as fast as you did?”

“Oh, well Mumbo actually wanted to help out. Of course I was suspicious at first, he could have been trying to tweak things in their favor, but he actually made it worse! I mean so many shriekers littered about, prioritizing moving people around, more challenges, he’s even fine with giving the ‘living redstone’ things a downgrade. Oh and not to mention this little tidbit here.” And Xelqua ran over, stealing one of the papers to really let Zemunis look at it. “Adding an extra requirement to this whole thing similar to that little rotator. Meaning it’ll last longer and we’ll get more time to test and research. I mean, this will definitely up the time from around six months.”

“And are you sure that extra time won’t skew our results?”

Quickly, Xelqua’s cheery demeanor turned serious and almost angry. “I’m sorry, are you saying we shouldn’t do this?”

“Well I think he’s just-” Yuslep spoke up before a glare silenced them again.

“We’ve gotten results already. Herobrine has already started giving us answers after who knows how many years you two have tried getting him talking. And now we know that this is the world. If we do anything wrong, They’ll just show up and tell us to stop. Now, not sure if you’ve noticed, but as far as I can tell, They haven’t shown up. And since They haven’t shown up, They probably don’t want us to stop. So until They do, we’re going to keep going. Plus, you agreed to this if I could get the work done, and now I have.”

“Well, you didn’t really get it done. One of the testers did.”

“One who is learning to become a Marked. If we’re going to allow any of them, it would be him. So. Are you allowing this, or not?”

With the current tension in the room, Zem jumped as Pin whispered in his ear. Watchers were fortunately known for their eyes and not their ears, so a hand in front of Pin’s mouth easily made the conversation private from Xelqua. “Look, if one of the hermits planned this all out, it’s obviously something that should help them in the long run, even if Grian can’t see it. And it’s not like the experiment isn’t a mess already with how it’s affected Grian. Noah even just got back and is recovering because whatever’s doing this to Grian messed with him as well. And either way, he’s right about us finally getting information. If you’re worried about the time, all this might end up shorter if we can finally find Them from the experiment.”

Zem was quiet for a few moments, processing all the information before giving a single sharp nod. “Yuslep, send a mass message to the testers once we’re ready to implement the changes. Give them a warning of half an hour, then update.”

“Got it.” Yus agreed before rushing off, beginning to set things up.

After Joe passed out in the tower, Beef struggled getting him back to the village. While he rested, Beef worked on gathering more materials. Around the time Joe finally woke up again, Beef didn’t get a chance to ask for what he had been trying to say earlier because the messages from Doc and Etho started flooding the chat. Immediately Beef crafted an anvil and some stone swords for Joe to use on him, sending some messages to everyone.

While it did work, it was done while Joe was only just waking up, so the action left him tired. At first Beef was the one to let himself die since Joe was still recovering, but it was more important after it was pointed out that hybrids were being affected, which was probably similar to what was wrong with Joe. 

Beef was sure he would be able to ask Joe once he woke up again, but that hope was dashed again when his comm started making noise other than the standard buzzing. The last message that had been sent through deaths was a message from Mumbo, warning that the experiment was going to change up a bit, but it turned out it was coming sooner than anyone thought. Though Beef wasn’t speaking out loud, at the same time he read the message, it seemed like the voice of someone else was reading it off with him.

“As stated previously by a player, an update will occur for the experiment at the request of one of your own. All spawns will be reset but inventories will stay constant. Unregistered players will be registered, creating a total of 30 players. Terrain may be altered, but will for the most part remain unchanged if already explored. Original spawns may also change due to player overlap. The update will occur in half an hour. You have thirty minutes.”

Beef quickly shook Joe awake the rest of the way and they began to gather resources and equipment into their inventories. With the mention of spawns changing due to overlap, especially with the two of them at true spawn as opposed to anywhere else, Beef and Joe were most worried about their spawns changing. 

They, along with anyone else who could, grabbed armor, weapons, tools, blocks, and more, preparing for when the time was up. Coordinates were memorized for meeting points, and a few messages were sent in chat in hopes that it wouldn’t be wiped. And then-

‘Your Server will be Restarted Shortly. Please be patient.’

.

.

.

The mountain was a reluctantly familiar sight. It being devoid of life, however, was not. Sure, there was the weird pillar monument thing from before, plus the bed, but there should be more. “Hello? Is anyone here? Dad? Grum?”

The last thing Jrum remembered was him and Grum seeing a message where someone was killed by a zombie using a named tool. Said tool was listed in chat, which made the two of them realize that renamed weapons or whatever could be used to send actual messages. The problem was you needed an anvil. 

Somehow, he and Grum had managed to imprint some of the letters on and around the pillar to a snowball. Jrum offered to be the one killed for the message, if it could even really be called that. They had done their best to use the odd symbols to look like the word hello, but it didn’t really. 

But even then, he had been killed, and it didn’t look like he had respawed normally as not only did the time seem completely different, but Grum was nowhere to be seen. His next guess was that Grian was right to worry about their respawning and needing to use magic for it, but then Grian didn’t seem to be here either. Did that just mean that normally for them, it would take ages? Did… did Grum think he was dead for good?

But where was Grum? There didn’t seem to be a path down or anything. At least that he could see. But maybe the same thing that happened to him happened to Grum. After he didn’t respawn, Grum would have been alone. And he had to do everything himself until he slipped up. Which meant he was probably just taking his time respawning just like Jrum.

But as he finished that train of thought, he then noticed the amount of death messages appearing in chat. Ones that probably shouldn’t be happening… not with the prior information he knew. Impulse didn’t seem to be drowning, nor was Daddy dying to vindicators. But Xisuma was still being killed by a Warden and Wels to hoglins, so at first it would seem like they escaped their area, but at the same time, there were other messages causing confusion.

Last Jrum knew, it was only the hermits, he and his brother, oh and those two mysterious players Gemini and Pearlescent. But apparently Helsknight was also here now. Also False hadn’t dealt with any other deathloop other than a little bit of drowning at the start, but now she kept dying to something called dripstone. And while Xisuma was still being killed by that warden, now the death message was different mentioning a sonically charged shriek. And finally Zedaph was now being eaten by frogs? For some reason? Jrum didn’t even know what that was!

Jrum was just about to essentially set the messages to a sort of do not disturb so he wouldn’t have to focus on that, but just before he did, a new death message popped up. This wasn’t one of the hermits, nor was it one of the new people. Instead, it was Grum’s name, and he had been killed by a Piglin.

Jrum was immediately looking around. There wasn’t much on the mountain, and he had already looked around, but he had still hoped to either see a nether portal, or see Grum respawn. But neither of those happened. He still looked around expectantly for a few more moments, barely noticing himself starting to shiver before there were more messages of Grumbot getting killed by not only piglins, but hoglin and brutes as well. Jrum almost shut his messages off so he didn’t need to look, but then a single message from Doc came in, saying ‘bot. water.’ and a pair of coordinates, him having gotten an anvil apparently and given a sword to a zombie.

Bot was probably referring to him with the nether not able to have water since now Grum was spawning there for some reason, plus Grum had reported seeing Doc below the clouds. That, along with the fact the coordinates weren’t too far from where he currently stood. In fact they were close enough that he could probably jump to where the water was. Since it would probably be easier to get back up to the mountaintop after going down and hopefully getting resources, Jrum took a running start, then jumped.

.

.

.

The sky was not black. It was very much blue. Meaning Evil Xisuma had gotten their spawn moved to the overworld. Pretty much the last place they wanted to be. Sort of. They lifted their head to see where exactly they ended up, only to curse when they saw very very large mushrooms. They took it back, this was the last place they wanted to be.

He gave a long sigh, putting his head back down and continuing to lie in the mycelium. “Fuck it, I’ll just kill some mooshrooms and swim elsewhere.” Then after a moment more, they jumped to their feet, running towards what looked like further into the island. Opposed to what the message given to everyone said, EX did not still have his loot from the end city in his inventory, which was going to make any progress to get back there very difficult.

While there were indeed mooshrooms, that was not the only thing present on the island. Standing among the mushrooms, growing from mycelium and not a patch of grass, were some trees. They weren’t trees EX recognized, but they were still some type of tree. “Well I guess I don’t have to swim.”

Instead of attacking the mooshrooms, Xannes started gathering wood. The wood itself seemed to be oak, but the leaves looked the wrong color and shape, plus last they checked, no leaves had flowers blooming in them. Eventually a sort of sapling fell, that being an azalea shrub, whatever that was. But if it could be bonemealed into a tree, it would work. But that meant getting some bonemeal, which meant finding a skeleton. And monsters didn’t spawn on or under mushroom islands.

Or at least that’s what Evil Xisuma thought, because once they had gathered a few trees worth of wood and shrubs as well as some beef and leather, they went down into a surface cave. They were already intrigued by what seemed to be vines glowing further into the cave that they didn’t realize until too late that a skeleton was nearby. At this point, the only gear they had was some leather crafted into boots to potentially help reduce fall damage a tad. They didn’t really have enough to make more, and they didn’t think they would need any.

EX managed to whack the thing once with their axe before getting killed. They grumbled before finding their way back to the cave, managing to grab their stuff and start leaving the cave before getting shot again. Fortunately they weren’t attacked after picking everything up again and instead mined some stone that was further away from the dark part of the cave. 

After getting a good amount, EX crafted a furnace, as well as a stone pick, sword and axe. They grabbed a little bit more wood now that they knew that tools and torches would be more important. The skeleton had moved away a bit, but a creeper was in its place. The creeper exploded around the time the skeleton wandered back over, damaging it a bit more, but it took another hit before the monster was finally dead. 

Xannes ate some of their now cooked beef before realizing that regen still seemed to be disabled in the world, so they couldn’t heal back to full, but at least for now they had about seven hearts. Plus there were no more mobs, and there only seemed to be the one dark area and further into the cave also had the ground above it missing, acting as a sort of skylight.

They used the area as a chance to mine for iron and coal, only to be surprised when the iron wasn’t ore, but some sort of raw iron. It seemed to need to be cooked as well, which didn’t make much sense to them; but it was whatever. They got it cooking before going towards a slightly darker area, now with armor, a shield and an iron axe. There was only one skeleton, but it did give them a bone, which was the point of looking.

Gathering up the last of the cooked iron as well as their utility blocks and some more coal, Xannes had grabbed water from one of the various clay lined pools. There had been a single block leading down to a cave, and right now the goal was to get down to diamond and lava level.

There was a bit of an incident with some mobs at the bottom of the water stream. One of which being a perfect line up to end EX up with a music disk, though it was 11. Further down past that was a more open cave. The greenery, clay and water from before was gone, which would have made it look normal, if it weren’t for the fact that the stone was the wrong color.

Getting distracted, Evil Xisuma looked around, trying to figure out what the weird stone might mean… up until they ran into an exposed piece of diamond ore. And hidden underneath were four more. “Alright, I’ve changed my mind. I ended up in the perfect place.”

.

.

.

When Grum opened his eyes again, he expected to find himself up on top of the mountain again, hopefully with his brother. From there, it would be easy to make their way back down to where Doc was positioned, assuming the pond they had made was still in place. Unfortunately instead of snow and ice and cold, Grum found his new spawn much hotter, with blackstone around him and the grunts of some nearby piglin.

With no danger immediately present, Grum checked on the world chat messages, noticing that a few players had gotten into death loops again, though some had gotten into new ones as well as some of continued deathloops having some small changes, that mainly being Xisuma’s.

Wondering about his dad, Grum then switched over to the player list, finding all the hermits listed including his dad, though with a different name than usual listed for him. There of course was also Pearl and then the other unfamiliar person, Geminitay, but there were also two newer-ish names. Those names were Helsknight, who was vaguely familiar, but also Xannes, which wasn’t as much. It would just have to be something Grum would ask about if he found anyone.

Well, anyone who was a player, as once he stopped looking at the world chat and tried exploring his spawn, he managed to run into a piglin and got killed. Knowing that path wouldn’t work, Grum attempted to go a different way, but this time he found a hoglin inside the bastion which also made quick work of him. By the time he finally managed to get to a safe area, Grum had been killed by some piglin brutes as well as more deaths from the other two. And if anything, he had been killed by some of the brutes a few times more than the others. Normally he wouldn’t try paying attention to that, but it wasn’t like this world was normal.

Grum finally noticed that the safe area he had found was actually a pretty good place to be. He could hear piglins, sure, but there were none in sight, even despite the fact that there was a chest right there. He carefully listened around to figure out how close the piglins were before opening the chest, getting prepared to run. He knew enough to recall that piglins did not like you rooting through their chests, so they could show up when he did. 

After a few seconds with the chest opened, nothing arrived, so Grum carefully looked inside, still keeping an eye on the surrounding area. The two most important items to him were a gold sword and a golden apple, a weapon and a way to heal since regen still seemed to be off. There were also a decent amount of arrows and a pair of crossbows, which were also helpful, though Grum wasn’t sure how well he could use them. As for the rest of the items in the chest, Grum collected up some golden carrots, some string, a singular pork chop, two iron nuggets, a handful of bone blocks, and some crying obsidian, but most importantly, there was some regular obsidian as well.

If Grum could find a ruined portal, or just more obsidian and enough stuff for a flint and steel, he would be able to create a portal and escape. Unfortunately, that all hinged on him actually getting out of the bastion alive as well, since he would lose all the items if he did die. There was the potential of dying so many times the piglins accepted him as one of their own, but he wasn’t really looking forward to the possibility of being part mob. If he even could become part mob when he was a robot and not a regular player.

From where Grum stood, he could just barely make out a chest on the other side of the bastion. He couldn’t see any piglins directly between it and him, but who knew what would be on the way there, and if he could even easily get there since there was also a large pool of lava in the middle as well. It was surrounding some netherwart, so that meant there was a platform, but that would likely be soul sand which would slow him and- he was overthinking this.

Steeling himself, Grum loaded both of his crossbows before running towards the chest. Almost immediately a piglin was in his way, and Grum turned to try and run away from it before getting cornered. With no other option, he fired his crossbow and was relieved when the single arrow was able to kill the piglin. Unfortunately, in running, he had fallen down a level, which hadn’t hurt him, but there was now a wall keeping him from getting directly to the chest. Loading the crossbow again, Grum carefully made his way around the wall through thin corridors, expecting danger at every turn.

Finding another dead end, Grum turned around, only for an armored piglin to see him. With two more arrows and a swipe from his sword, Grum killed it, but not before taking some damage. He barely had time to load his crossbow again before another piglin armored appeared with a brute by its side. Miraculously, Grum was able to hit the brute into the lava pool and kill the piglin, even getting its golden chestplate, which he immediately threw on. Just in time as third piglin appeared, this one with no armor but a crossbow of its own. Grum only had his sword ready, so sliced at it, getting shot once in the process, but not being killed. 

With no more threats immediately appearing, Grum ate his apple, glad for the healing to take him back to full hearts and then a little. Another piglin with a crossbow saw Grum as he made his way to another alcove. Grum managed to take one of his bone blocks to block a gap for them to see him from, but in the process found some magma flooring, taking just a touch of damage before he was safe again, hearing the piglin killed by a hoglin.

From his new place, Grum could see another chest in the middle of the lava, which unfortunately was now further away from him than where he had started. It was something he could try to get to if he died again, but that was still thankfully an if. The regular path continued into a dead end until Grum went up a level, but he could hear more piglins there, so instead he used his other two bone blocks to bridge a small gap towards another opening.

Using a touch of crying obsidian as well as punching through some blocks with his hand, Grum ran into another piglin, and only barely stopped himself from firing his crossbow before noticing that he wasn’t being attacked thanks to his stolen armor. Unfortunately, the same didn’t work for brutes, and there was one between him and the chest. Thankfully, it couldn’t reach where he stood, but Grum knew opening the chest would also anger the piglins, so he had to take his next steps very carefully.

The moment he attacked the brute, all the piglins get angry with him. With some panic, Grum managed to get them all to walk into a pit where they could get in and out, but couldn’t get to him. Barely dodging an arrow, Grum managed to attack with his sword, and then watched in surprise as pretty much all the piglins found a puddle of lava and fell into it.

As Grum continued to pick off piglins, a baby hoglin dropped in on him, barely loading his crossbow in time to hit it before it thankfully ran into the pit as well. Finally, Grum reached the chest, and then yelled in frustration at the items inside. The most useful items were more bone blocks as well as chains, as he could build across gaps with them, but the piglin disc and other gold chestplate weren’t as helpful. Well, Actually his stolen one was almost broken, so he did replace it, but it was still lacking.

With some reluctance, Grum made his way to the center chest, picking up the growing netherwart as well. Taking a deep breath, he went to open the chest, only to get killed by a piglin brute that fell from above. Feeling angry as he respawned, Grum didn’t even hesitate as he rushed back and shoved the brute into the lava, picking up what remained of his own items. Thankfully the new chestplate still survived along with his obsidian. In fact, while his sword had fallen in lava as well as one crossbow, the other crossbow survived with the arrows. And as Grum opened the chest, he doubled his obsidian as well as got a gold axe.

With enough obsidian to make a portal, Grum smiled before frowning at the fact that holding the axe felt a bit more comfortable than the sword or crossbow. He hoped maybe it was just his own imagination, but Grum couldn’t be sure. But not wanting to dwell on it or get the chance to die again, Grum immediately used his obsidian to make a portal frame. Though he couldn’t light it, it was at least there, so Grum stood on top to fire arrows at the rest of the piglins and brutes and hoglins, taking the last few out with punches into lava when his arrows finally ran out.

Feeling safer, Grum explored a bit more. There were unfortunately no more chests, but Grum did find where what seemed to be every remaining piglin seemed to be. He did his best to block up the area with bone blocks, but one brute escaped, which killed him twice before he finally killed it in return. But with that, he was safe. There weren’t any more hoglins or brutes, and the only remaining piglins were children and didn’t attack him. They seemed scared of him, which was reasonable since he had just killed what seemed to be their family. 

He felt a little sad for them, but he had to do it to survive. With some reluctance, Grum picked up the chests he had emptied and took them to his spawn point. He was still stuck here, but he had the beginnings of a way out, and that was progress, and progress was good.

.

.

.

He was willing to admit that he had lied a little with what he had said to Wels. After the warning of the soft reset, Hels had reluctantly helped with obtaining stone tools for himself and Welsknight. He also did his best to kill a couple of hoglins and pass the pork off with a reminder that starving was probably a better option than eating crimson fungus.

It was midway through trying to make sure Wels' spawn was safe when it happened. One moment Hels was in the nether placing blocks, the next he was in the overworld, and with his inventory completely empty. Great, so the part about him keeping his stuff was a lie. Which made things a lot worse for him.

When he had tried to claim that needing to keep Wels from dying just wasted resources he could have used for himself, that wasn't entirely the case. While his name was Helsknight, it was in part because he was from a sort of alternate universe or whatever that was referred to as hels. Going between the two places wasn't common. He had ended up there in the first place because of one of the Hermits' inventions, and was only back due to Evil Xisuma. The only reason he had been doing so well in the nether was because Evil X had insisted on modding one of their seasons with the nether. Because that dimension wasn't normally a part of hels.

Helsknight himself, despite being named after the alternate universe or whatever that didn't have the nether, had actually been from a world that had also been modded with the fiery dimension. Which, if he knew enough about how things worked, Wels was in the same situation, being from a world that had added in the connections to an extra dimension. Still, the dimension that Hels had grown up with didn't exactly match the present day nether of wels, but for whatever reason, Evil X had wanted to be nice and give a slice of home to the knight. It had felt off since it was made to match the new version of things, but now Hels appreciated the gesture.

It still hadn't exactly matched with the nether Hels had found himself in before, but it gave him some familiarity with the dimension he had found himself in. But emphasis on had. Because now he found himself in the overworld in a biome he didn't fully recognize. And that would be bad enough if it weren't also for the fact that he wasn't exactly sure how to actually survive.

Okay, that was sort of hyperbole, but it was still going to be tough. From what Hels had learned after his first visit to wels, there hadn't originally been a separation between the two dimensions. But sometime around the addition of a new dimension, the split happened. Since then, the two dimensions had stayed separate, and what might be discovered in one of the worlds would have a different equivalent in the other.

Like for instance, apparently they had spruce and birch instead of pine and sycamore. If something that small was different, what else was he going to deal with? Well for one, probably the bird a couple of blocks away from him. He looked at it and it looked back, but nothing happened, so it probably wasn’t hostile. He then looked around at the landscape, hoping to spot some kind of landmark, only to be disappointed by finding just one. 

Just like at Wels’ spawn, a similar pillar thing stood just behind where Hels appeared. But unlike the netherbrick of the other one, this was made mainly from a type of wood he can’t recall the name of. It’s orange wood, but the bark is more of a gray. The only things not like that are the piece of bedrock and the strange block on top of it that looked like weird dirt or stone.

As far as Helsknight could tell, he couldn’t get anything out of the small structure other than being able to see his spawn. Maybe that meant he should build his base there, but he needed to gather wood first. So, Hels started walking to the nearest tree, punching at the logs that matched what the spawn marker was made of. When he finally picked them up, he noted that they were ‘acacia’ before turning them into a crafting table and set of wooden tools.

Chopping down another tree, Hels used the planks to outline where his base would be before digging at the group below until he hit stone, then continued to mine that up until he could change to a stone pickaxe and make a furnace. He popped back up to the surface to place the untility block next to his crafting table, also making and placing a chest for good measure.

Digging randomly for coal wasn’t really the best option in the moment, so after stuffing the extra cobble and dirt into the chest, Hels went looking for a shallow cave in hopes of finding some coal ore. Thankfully it didn’t take long, and he mined it up and crafted a number of torches. One was placed in the cave opening to help it stand out, and he placed a small trail on the way back to his base for the same reason.

While placing one in the center of his outlined area, Hels frowned at where it was now suddenly broken. For whatever reason, a few of the blocks he had placed were just missing now. He couldn’t really see why, but Helsknight placed more blocks in the gap. After that, he added a second layer of blocks to make sure there was a wall to hopefully keep out any monsters once night finally hit.

Now that Hels had a number of torches, he continued his staircase in the spawn area. If he could find a cave below his spawn, then he wouldn’t need to go exploring too far. And with regen off, if he died, it would be fairly easy to return to where he had been. But that meant finding a cave in the first place.

For now, he was having very little luck. Helsknight had only managed to find two pieces of iron ore, and he had no clue what to do with the raw iron that had dropped. Even if it worked like regular iron ingots, what was he supposed to do with shears? As Hels tried to potentially come up with any idea, his train of thought stopped in its tracks when he reached the surface. In the same area as before, the planks making the wall for his temporary base were gone.

Helsknight stared at the gap in the wall, trying to figure out why it was there again. His first guess was the strange bird he had seen earlier, but at this point, it had wandered off far enough that he couldn’t see it anywhere nearby. With another glance, he noticed how that side of his wall was closer to the spawn structure than the rest of it. Probably nothing could be within a certain distance of the thing. 

With a frustrated sign, Hels tore up what remained of that wall and expanded it. He was still going to enclose the thing to some degree. It was his spawn, and the thing was important enough that protecting it was probably the safest option.

.

.

.

The first time he had seen a player was a surprise, leaving quickly enough he was pretty sure he wasn’t spotted. The next time he wasn’t as sure, but couldn’t tell. The third and fourth times he knew they didn’t, but the fifth time he knew he had been seen.

He had been alone for a long time, on his own and sometimes managing to find himself in different worlds. Sometimes, those worlds included other people. And when those people saw him, they talked about him. Those talks ended up connecting to more things they had spotted, things he had left behind like little tunnels or small builds. He didn’t think it would amount to much, until the first time a player appeared in the world he was in, instead of the other way around.

That had been this world. Ages and ages ago. When the first Watcher had appeared. They did something to him that day. They essentially laid a curse upon him, one he was stuck with for ages. Technically, he was still stuck with it, but it had been lessened. At most he could say it left him feeling sick for a day or so. And part of that was because of how accommodating his current home was.

Well, it wasn’t really current now. This world wasn’t supposed to be their home. And it seemed someone had noticed the little fix that had been given to his curse. The Watchers were running the show after all. They wouldn’t want something like that messed with if they hadn’t been the ones fixing it.

But he didn’t know it had happened until it was too late. The idea only crossed his mind near the end of their timer. He did his best to rush back to a piece of safety, hoping to ride out what he thought was coming. Surely he could be taken care of for a little bit. That’s what hermits did after all.

He called out to Beef in time for him to turn around right as the server reset began. And when everything was set back to normal, only one hermit remained at the true spawn. And due to the message given previously, Beef sadly assumed that the other Hermit had ended up with a moved spawn.

But that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t moved spawns, but he was no longer at the true spawn. He was nowhere. 

Version 1.ᓭᒷ.0, Changes: - Removed Herobrine ⋮𝙹ᒷ⍑╎ꖎꖎᓭᓭᔑ||ᓭ

[c0rupt]

. Pinball .

Vance x dead! Gn! Reader

Platonic or romantic

!! I don’t check my writings so things may not make sense or are spelt wrong !!

“Hit him!” “Get him Vance!” “Beat his ass!” “Punk!”

All those words filled his head. Boosting his ego even more. He threw punch after punch to the face of moose.

“Vance.”

He herd. There was a pause. His posture changing. His aura changing. He looked to his right to see you. But you vanished as quick as you came. Confused and Creeped out, he stared at moose, he did enough. So he got up and left.

__________

“Where was you.” His mom said sternly “out.” He sighed and walked upstairs.

When he got in his room, he quickly flopped down on his bed. Looking around observing every detail. Weights. Posters. Cans. Clothes.

He was a mess. Ever since you got took, he had been a mess. Beating up any kid that even looked at your missing posters.

He saw you. But you didn’t look like you. Your hair. Your clothes. They where bloodied up. He didn’t know what to do. Report it? People would think he was crazy. He was stuck. For once. He was stuck

_________

“Vance your gonna beat your high score.” His friend said next to him. He had to distract himself from you in any way. “Course I am dumb shit, I said I would” he mumbled.

He didn’t. Instead it ended up with him in the back of a police car. As he looked around. Taking in the scene Infront of him again. 2 police officers infront. A radio. Water bottles.

He looked out the window. The rain hitting the glass harshly. “Here.” One of the officers said. It confused him. “Come to this street. We found the kids.” Someone said through the radio.

That brought hope to the blonde. You was okay. “I’m coming.” He said. “No, your getting dropped off at the police station.” The officer on the left said.

“But I’m one of the kids friends.” He said and dug his nails into the leather seat “look kid, your a friend. But your not family. So we can’t.” The officer on the right said and pulled up to the police station. “Come on.”

_________

“We found the bodies of 5 children. Those we presume are the missing children. We are pushing for further investigations.” The officer on TV said.

“Oh Vance..” his mom said and pulled him in a hug.

You where supposed to be okay. You where supposed to come back and laugh about how much of a dick the grabber was. How much you where scared. But you where okay now.

“Come on sweetie..” his mom said stroking his head. He let out a sob. And after that he was crying into his mothers shoulder.

_________

He was in his room. Looking around. Again. But this time it felt off. Like someone was watching him. He brushed it off, picking up his weights. He decided to let out his anger on that.

“Vance sweetie..the phone is ringing!” His mom called from down stairs.

He looked at his door. The feeling of being watched washing over him even more.

“Give me a sec!” He yelled and put down his weights, walking down the stairs and taking the phone out of his moms hand

“what.” He said through the phone “sorry about Y/N man..” his friend said through the phone. “It’s fine. what else.” He mumbled. “What do you mean what else. Y’know, maybe if you wasn’t such a prick they would be here, you can’t just ignore what happened.” They said and put down the phone.

“Is everything okay?” His mom said, reading the look oh his face

“I’m fine ma’. “

_________

He was waking down the street. Kids where out, probably gossiping about the situation that had happened a few months ago. Sucking his teeth, he walked into the grab n go, his world stopped.

His score was beaten. But- “I know, it’s been doing that all day. Might be getting old.” The woman behind the counter said.

The score was going up. The buttons where being pressed. The ball was moving. But nobody was there.

He walked closer to it. 3 feet away. 2 feet away. 1 foot away. And he paused. He felt eyes on him. He felt eyes burning through his. But they weren’t judging eyes. They where eyes of shock. Until he felt the feeling go.

_________

It stayed like that for weeks. He would walk in on his game glitching and the feeling of eyes watching him, when barley anyone was.

He walked into the store. But felt no eyes on him. No pinball playing on its own. Nothing. He continued doing whatever he was doing.

“Vance.” A whisper came from behind him.

It was you.

_________

<3

[fuck-customers]

⚠️ SORRY; LONG POST ⚠️

How the fuck can I get my dumbbitch managers to STOP scheduling me for 3 hour (or less!!) shifts?

I have repeatedly asked multiple management members over and over and over again to NOT schedule me 3 hour shifts, schedule me only 4 hour minimum + ideally one 8 hour vs. two 4 hours (which never gets respected, of course) only to be ignored. I mean, I have talked to Every. Single. Manager. And lead. Anyone who might even TOUCH a schedule, I have repeatedly expressed my displeasure with 3 hour shifts. I have open availability and I never call out, it's not like I need limited hours due to school/another job/disability/etc. And I have two fucking 3 hour shifts this week!!

I'm sure I will get comments on this post that suggests that they're trying to get me to quit. I agree. I've wanted to quit this job pretty much as soon as I accepted it. However, I have many issues in my personal life that are preventing me from doing so, which I will not go into detail about. The good news is, it seems like I might be able to get things resolved in my personal life soon and will be able to relocate to the area that I wanted to and will ideally quit this job and get another one at that time. The problem is that I'm unsure how long it might take. I might be stuck here for a few more months, but I honestly do not know how many.

I don't want to tell my work about that, because I'd have to explain in detail my personal life and I do not wish to, and I would like to wait to tell them that I am quitting/thinking of quitting once it's more of a reality and I've actually gotten another job. At this point, I haven't even interviewed anywhere.

I spoke with the SM before she quit and after that talk, we appeared to be on the same page and she assured me that she would instruct the leads who were taking over scheduling duties to not schedule me 3 hour shifts. (I also would call out for nearly every 3 hour shift.. hint, hint, bitch, but I have since stopped due to concerns about being fired for being unavailable/uncooperative/abandoning my shifts/etc bullshit)

Well, that was a fucking lie. I got my new schedule this week and I have not one, but TWO 3 hour shifts!! I have been at this stupid fucking job for almost 4 years. (I am 2 months away from my 4 year anniversary, not that I get a bonus or review or any kind of recognition when my anniversary comes around, but that's another story) Even the current management hasn't been there that long. The longest one has been with the company 2 years at another location. (Oh btw that's another issue- all current management is not from this location, they've all transferred from other locations or are straight up new hires from other companies and I believe they are discriminating against employees who have been under previous management to force them to either quit or conform to THEIR way of managing. Which is wrong, by the way. I have read the store handbook...which has mysteriously disappeared after the arrival of the new SM 🤔 and a lot of what they say is the way to do things are simply not correct)

I am considering filling out an availability form and putting down "no 3 hour shifts" and photocopying it, however there isn't really a space for something like that. The availability forms only have spaces to fill hour which hours each weekday you are available. (So if you're available on Mondays only from 1-5, you would fill in the blanks with 1:00 and 5:00) But it's something in writing? Maybe? Idk. I have also considered contacting HR, but we don't actually have an on-site HR person, I'd have to call or email them and I'm already worried that my current scheduling issues are a form of retaliation against me (for what, I'm unsure of) and even though I know it's illegal, I fear my hours might get worse if I contact HR, but I feel I can't PROVE retaliation or unfair treatment, because I am not the only one with low hours. HOWEVER I am the only one who's been there for multiple years and I am the only one who spoke to the SM about it and was promised better hours. (But she wouldn't put it in writing, of course) Also, the shitty hours are not consistent. I'll have 3 hour shifts this week for a total of 6 hours this week and then next week, I'll be asked to stay late/come in early and have 2 or 3 8 hour shifts. Which I also feel is purposeful, so that management can go "ohh NOO we're not punishing or discriminating against her, see? She got a FULL SHIFT that day."

Summary/TL;DR: Work has been giving me pisspoor hours. I want hours to improve. How should I ask to not be scheduled 3 hour shifts anymore? Should I contact HR or should I wait to see if the situation resolves itself?

[justathoughtfulangel]

Left Behind But Not Forgotten ~ Colors, Chapter 9 (Kai Parker Fanfiction)

Hello, my dears :) Welcome to Chapter 9 of Colors, my Kai Parker Soulmate AU Fanfiction. This is NOT meant to be read as a standalone piece. Events of the story and even the universe it is set in vary greatly from the original show. If you haven’t yet, please read the Details post and previous chapters linked on this masterlist.

*not my gif

Word Count: 2,305

Pairing: witch!Kai X witch!Reader (soulmates)

I don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of character names, but this IS a reader insert fanfiction. I use Rosalie Wilson as a placeholder. Use Rose/Rosalie as a substitution for Y/N.

Warnings: This chapter may only be suited for mature audiences.

This next chapter takes place a few months after the end of chapter 8 (and seven months from the start of the story). Hope you enjoy it! :)

The music was loud and obnoxious. There were red plastic cups littered about the first floor of the Salvatore Mansion. It was the end-of-the-school-year celebration; Rosalie, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline had just finished their third year at Whitmore successfully.

Rose stood in the corner, waiting for Kai to come back with a drink for them both. Unfortunately, Damon found her. She’d been strictly avoiding him since he left her and swept Elena to safety seven months ago. Leaving her to presumably die was not a forgivable offense.

“So,” Damon approached her awkwardly, simultaneously blocking any route for her escape. He missed Rosalie, but she was just as stubborn as him. “Whatcha think of the party?” Rose blinked in disbelief. What a groundbreaking start. “Aren’t you just about two centuries too old for such parties?”

Damon sighed, knowing there was no smooth way to ask for her forgiveness except to just bite the bullet. “Rosalie, I’m so sorry. I know leaving you there with Kai was wrong, especially when we knew he was dangerous. I was betting on you being soulmates – I didn’t think he’d actually hurt you.” If that was meant to placate her, Damon was sorely mistaken.

“Right, I suppose gambling with my life to save Elena is excusable.” In Damon’s world, it really was. Rosalie knew that, too. They were all hard-wired to choose and protect their soulmates over anything and anyone.

From across the room, Kai wove a pathway between the drunk college students, taking great care to not spill the cocktails in his hands. He heard the end of the conversation as he got closer, remembering his own anger at Damon for just leaving Rose with someone as dangerous as him. “Rosalie, I-”

Malachai intercepted the conversation, handing Rose her drink and wrapping his free arm around her waist. “She heard you. From where I’m standing, that’s a terrible excuse.” With half his body so close to her, Kai felt her slight shudder. If it was a shudder of anger, hurt, or something else, he didn’t know.

Rosalie swallowed some of her pride, and though a great deal of her trust in Damon had been lost, she still cared for him. “I hear you, Damon. I… I’m just going to need more time before I can forgive you.”

Damon’s lips pressed together. That wasn’t what he wanted, but it would have to do for now. Nodding in acceptance, he let them be. Rosalie chugged down half of the drink in her hand, making Kai chuckle.

“Well, you’re officially a much bigger person than I am.” Rosalie laughed along with him. “I’m not. You just don’t give yourself enough credit for things.” Malachai hummed in response, setting his drink down to wrap both arms around her waist. “If you give me far too much and I give myself too little, I think it evens out.”

Rosalie fought off a frown, wishing he could see himself the way she saw him. Coming up into her toes, she gave him a short but sweet peck on his lips. “I’m going to find a way to make you believe in yourself.”

Kai smiled, but the glimmer in his eyes wasn’t there. “Rose, I love you. I don’t want you trying and hoping for something that will not happen.” She raised her brows, poking his cheek softly. “Challenge?”

Resting his forehead against hers with a small sigh, he nodded in agreement. “Alright then. Let’s see who wins.” The music was still annoyingly loud, and people were jumping around in every direction. Malachai and Rosalie just stood in the little corner, ducking out from the party after they’d made an appearance for a decent amount of time.

~

With his hand in hers, Rosalie brought Malachai into her recreated childhood home. She learned to walk in this house. She spoke her first words in this house. This house had built her, and she had destroyed it. Every detail of the house had been made anew. As she looked at it now, Rosalie didn’t feel so heartbroken – not with Kai at her side.

Kai’s eyes flitted over the family Christmas pictures by the entrance, admiring the red and green sweaters while wistfully remembering the same photos of his own family. He wouldn’t admit it, but he kept those pictures with him wherever he went in the prison world. It was also too soon, but he thought about taking new family photos with Rosalie.

His cheeks colored, and it didn’t escape Rose’s attention. “What are youuuuu blushing about?” She poked his cheek playfully. Malachai shook his head away from the finger, refusing to answer. His adorable expression made her heart lighter. She’d never brought anyone here after the accident, but he was different. He had a right to everything that made her who she was, and this? This home defined her in all the ways one could be defined.

“Alright then, don’t tell me.” Rose took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. Thinking they were going to make food, Kai began perusing through the fridge. No one had been here in weeks; naturally, the fridge was empty. Malachai looked back to Rosalie in confusion, only to find her kneeling by the kitchen sink and pulling out cleaning supplies from under the cabinet. He groaned in complaint, still a bit buzzed from the alcohol and not inclined to spend hours cleaning the house. “Can we at least use magic?”

~

98 minutes, an extra-large pizza, and two showers later, Kai found himself spooning Rosalie. He nuzzled into her neck, leaving a tender kiss on her jaw. She squeezed his hand lovingly in return, sighing softly in contentment. They were both surprisingly awake, despite the long day. Cleaning was a lot more tolerable with someone else to do it with, and their slightly inebriated nature made it a lot of fun.

“What are you thinking about?” Rosalie needed something to fill the silence. His words always calmed her, whatever they were. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I’m thinking about you and I sneaking into the hot tub after hours.” As he spoke of the memory, Kai smiled brightly…

Kai had always been a rulebreaker, and he’d pulled Rose into it, too. The security was bleak, and it was well past 2 A.M. “Kai, where on earth are we going?” 

“Shhh, you’ll see very soon.” Snapping his fingers, he stole her vision momentarily, making her stumble. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. We’re almost there.” The second Rosalie hit submit on her last term paper, he’d pulled her up from her desk, got her to change into her swimsuit, and finally revealed the surprise he’d been working on for weeks. 

When her vision returned, Rose gasped in surprise. The hot tub in the apartment complex was surrounded by candles, the flames casting luminescent reflections on the bubbling water. Nearby was a plate with some delicious snacks, comforting and extravagant alike, and a chilled bucket with a bottle of Peach Moscato she adored. Kai wrapped his arms around her waist as she took in every bit of the scene, kissing her cheek lovingly. “Congratulations, darling. I’m so, so proud of you.” 

Rose’s hand came up to rest on his cheek, bringing her lips to his. “I don’t even know what to say, Malachai. Thank you… thank you so much.” Kai only smiled, pecking her lips once more. “Anytime.”

Rosalie turned over in his arms, resting her hand on his face and holding him close. “I still can’t believe you did that for me. It was like something out of a movie.” Malachai rested her forehead against his, kissing her lips sweetly and pulling her even closer under the cozy comforter. “I’d do anything for you.”

Their kisses were always addictive, laced with something more than romance and attraction. Something more than love itself. It was the conjoining of two halves of a whole. When something is so fulfilling and complete, it’s impossible to give it up. When Rosalie’s lips brushed against Kai’s for the next uncountable instance that night, he didn’t have it in him to let her pull away.

Their mouths danced together. Their heartbeats synced to one rhythm. Their eyes were closed, absorbing every sensation, every little dip and curve of each other. Kai gingerly hoisted Rosalie atop him. His arms wrapped around her back, pressing her body to his without letting their kiss end. Rose almost whimpered into the kiss, nearly overwhelmed with how much she wanted him.

This was foreign to them both. Neither had been romantically involved with anyone else. They’d been waiting to make love to their soulmate and only their soulmate. Now that the moment was here, neither was afraid. This was it. Without any apprehension, they both knew it would be perfect.

“Rose…” Kai broke the kiss, shifting away just a fraction of an inch. “I want you. I want all of you.” His voice was mixed with labored breaths, his lips trailing along her jaw and neck, not willing to stop touching her. Rosalie’s eyes fluttered gently, lost in the feelings Malachai elicited in her. “You have me, love. You already have all of me.” Rose sat up, pulling Kai up with her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and in the process of tugging his shirt from his body, she unknowingly shifted her hips against him. Malachai groaned, feeling himself harden and grow beneath her.

Rose was, surprisingly, quite the vixen. He’d always known there was a fire within her, but this was a fire that consumed him, too. He craved it badly, wanted it to burn him in the most delicious way possible. Kai removed her shirt, mirroring her anticipation. More and more of their bare flesh embraced the other’s, desperate to become one.

Becoming more and more impatient as his desires grew, Kai flipped them over, laying Rosalie beneath him, removing her leggings and panties off in one fell swoop. His left hand fumbled with his own shorts while the other trailed over the soft skin of her inner thighs, just an inch away from her eager sex. Rose trembled below him so enticingly, egging him on. 

 Two of his fingers slipped between her lower lips and inside her, warming her up to take his cock very soon. “God, you don’t know how much I’ve ached for you, baby.” Despite the pleasure at the strange new sensation coursing through her, Rose giggled a little. “Trust me, it’s been the same for me.” Hoisting herself up on her elbows, she crushed her mouth to his, their moans drowning together as her hand found his hardening cock. It wrapped around Kai’s length, stroking him teasingly. 

 Their tongues meshed together, and all conscious thought was gone now. Rosalie broke the kiss, leaning over and trying not to tremble as Kai’s fingers explored her while she grabbed the new box of condoms from the bedside table. Kai raised his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. This truly had been on her mind just as much as his, and she’d prepared for it. Not looking away from his eyes, Rose slid the condom on his cock, loving the little moan he let out.

Kai kissed her again, slipping his fingers out from inside her dripping pussy. He laid her down, more gently this time. The atmosphere in the room had changed. There was still passion and need and desire, but it was enveloped in something more: adoration. Malachai loved Rosalie, and Rosalie loved Malachai. Nothing else mattered. 

 With a steady slowness, Malachai aligned his sex with hers, penetrating her with care. She winced noticeably, and he peppered kisses of apology all over her neck. This was pure pleasure for him, unlike anything he’d known. “I’m here, Rosalie. I love you so fucking much. You have all of me.” Kai was not the one claiming her; they were claiming each other, their souls forever brandished with a mark unique to them.

More and more tender moments passed. Their lovely sounds of ecstasy were muted by their incessant kisses, stopping for nothing and no one. She was his and he was hers: now and forever.

~~~

One week later, Malachai woke in an empty bed. His arms and the other pillow were cold, telling him that Rosalie had gotten up long ago. The mahogany clock on the wall read 7:43 AM. Where did she go this early? Kai shoved the blanket aside, slipping on the black sweatpants he’d discarded last night, and made his way downstairs. Rose was curled up on the couch under a light blue blanket. She’d dozed off again. A picture of her with her family lay beside her, near her fingertips as if she’d fallen asleep while holding onto it.

Kai looked upon her for a moment, kneeling by the couch and gingerly moving the picture frame away. Despite his best efforts, the movement woke her. He stood, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sorry love, didn’t mean to wake you.” Kai slipped behind her, pulling Rose into his lap and wrapping the blanket around them both. She didn’t say anything, just silently snuggling into him. He knew what she was thinking, even without her saying anything. 

 “You don’t have to say anything, but I need you to listen.” Rosalie nodded, nestling her head into his neck. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, holding her to him. “I know you still feel very guilty about your family. I also know you well enough to know that a part of you always will. But…” Kai moved away just briefly, shifting so he could look into her beautiful eyes. “Just because they’re not here right now doesn’t mean they’re not always with you. Maybe they’ve been left behind in the past, but they’re not forgotten. They never will be.

“They are alive in you.”

~~~

That concludes Chapter 9 of Colors! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it.

Note: I realize I didn't write the smut scene to completion (pun intended). This was because I believed sex between two soulmates was honestly something I couldn't do justice to. I imagine it to be so powerful and healing - I didn't think I could put it into words in the right way. Also, I didn't want to leave any smut warnings at the top because it would give away that their first time is in this chapter but I will include them from this point out (if applicable).

Chapter 10 is posted! Read it here.

Please feel free to send any thoughts/comments/constructive criticisms my way. I always welcome them!

If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story and/or for my other Kai Parker pieces, please send me a message or leave a comment on this post.

Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel <3

Master Taglist: @socio-kai-path1972, @bluelicious, @genevivetaylor, @prettybitchfatwitch, @kolsangel

Colors Taglist: @lalaooopsie, @southernbell91, @rootbeerfaygo

[kirbyofthestars]

ok um look at the images at the bottom first because this is an ask and i cant put them first HELP. just screenshotted the wiki since i dont feel like getting them from the game itself even if i have the costume . head in hands okay

so . for context langue de chat is a Very ambitious overachieving lawyer who takes great pride in themself but also crumbles easily under any sort of pressure or stress. This costume makes me want to gnaw on something because GOD DAMN does this tell us a lot like THEYRE A FUCKING WORKAHOLIC. BY DEFINITION. They cannot fathom NOT working for three seconds while theyre on vacation. they usually speak in a very professional and confident manner but they use so many elipsies(or however you spell it the three dots) here Girl their ass does NOT know how to relax!!! "Ah! I got sugar water on the files!" THEIR ASS IS NOT RELAXING STOP WORKING LITTLE SHIT YOURE ON VACATION!!!!!

also in the last image i included thats their costume banner, you can see them playing in the water with their parents which is actually adorable but i think its safe to assume their parents planned this vacation for them and they literally just. Dont know what to do with themself. So used to working 24/7 whether it was in school or lawyering and they dont know what to dooo GAUGDJJ girl youre so fucked up

(also the left side of the photo is cappuccinos banner which is another piece of one full photo which i think is ADORABLE i fucking love that detail)

and then you can see by their lines they actually start to adjust to everything and they learn to relax and have fun and end up Really really liking it and i absolutely love that for them yes girl have fun!!! its not really mentioned or implied in the costume itself but i like to think that theyre carrying around the sodas to feel useful. Like they hate not feeling productive and their parents never asked them to but theyre carrying it around awkwardly because they want to feel like theyre doing something good

this isnt from their costume its from a cutscene from the update a few months ago but theres a scene from this one camping update where they say they remember camping with their family as a kid and that they studied in the tent the whole time GIRL!!!! they were STUDYING while camping and they say it all proudly like they see nothing wrong with it like its a completely normal and reasonable thing to do Their ass is NOT relaxing!!!

ok sorry this ended up longer than expected um. if you dont want to read/respond to this thats fine HVSJF /gen i just really love this stupid goober. Kills them affectionately

sorry for the late reply ive been super busy with school but THIS IS ADORABLE OH MY GOODNESS???? thank u for educating me abt blorbo i feel wiser now. they look so so happy playing in the water im glad she gets a nice vacation :]