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ificanthaveu · 4 years

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August || Shawn Mendes

Description: {Based off the teenage love triangle on Folklore: August, Betty and Cardigan} After months of silence and an apology, you find yourself falling for Shawn Mendes all over again, giving him second chances, but you’re running out of forgiveness. He was never yours to lose.

A/N: WHEW, this took me AGES to write because i wanted to include so many aspects of the three songs (that being said please listen to them and be familiar with them because there are a TON of nods to the songs and their lyrics) and i kept coming up with new ideas that just made the story way longer. BUT after nearly two months, she’s done. She’s beautiful. Please enjoy

Word count: 13.4k

You tried to ignore the old woman’s scoff as you picked up her hamburger that was “too cold” to bring it back to the kitchen to grab a new one. You locked eyes with the chef as he rolled his eyes.

“It’s too cold,” you said with a fake smile.

Scotty returned the smile to you as he pointed at it.

“There’s steam coming off it,” he whispered.

“Don’t you love summer in Virginia Beach?” You said in a fake dreamy voice as you leaned your head onto your hand.

“I hate it almost as much as I hate this job,” he returned as he placed a new hamburger on the plate.

“Same here,” you sighed as you grabbed the plate, bringing it back to the old woman with a profuse apology and a silent prayer that she’d still tip well.

You glanced at your watch and let out a breath of relief as you threw your apron on the hook and grabbed a plate with your name on it.

“Going on my break,” you called out as you made your way out to the back to eat your lunch and take a breath.

You appreciated the silence as you enjoyed the warm weather and the gentle breeze off the shore.

“Fancy seeing you here,” an unmistakable voice said from behind you as you felt your shoulder tense.

“Shawn,” you said as he walked in front of you and plopped down across from you at the picnic table.

“First shift back?” He asked as you swallowed hard and tried to shake the feeling.

“No, no, I got here a week ago,” you said quietly.

Shawn gave you a confused look before glancing down at his phone and sighing.

“My shift started two minutes ago, but we’ll catch up tonight?” He asked as he walked through the back door.

You didn’t have a chance to respond before the door slammed behind him.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and took a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing that threatened to falter again.

You weren’t going to fall for him again this summer.

Last summer was a different story.

You begged the summer memories in your head to stop flooding your senses and tried to remember the past eight months where he barely said a word to you.

Shawn Mendes was not worth wasting another summer on.

You choked down a few more bites of your lunch before going back in and throwing your apron back on.

You stood next to Scotty as you watched Shawn charm the same table of ladies that definitely hated you now.

“You good?” He asked quietly.

You simply nodded your head, not meeting his eyes, still staring at Shawn. He followed your eyesight and nodded his head.

“Not letting that happen again?” He questioned.

“No,” you said flatly, putting plates on a tray as he finished them.

You met his eyes as he tried to hide his smile.

“We’ll see,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the tray, making your way to a table in the back.

“I can take that,” Shawn said as he came out of nowhere, grabbing the tray while you grabbed a stand for it.

“Thanks,” you said quickly, him following you to the table, leaving you with a touch on your shoulder after he set it down.

You catch him watching you as you take a table’s order, stumbling over the specials and pretending you didn’t hear the teenage boy laugh at you.

You speed walked back into the kitchen to grab the food that was ready for your next table when Shawn cut you off.

“Are you ok?” He asked with a confused look on his face.

You tried not to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, just in a hurry,” you said as you rushed past him and grabbed the tray, making your way to the designated table.

Shawn stayed out of your way for the rest of your shift, and you were able to sneak out without saying goodbye to anyone but Scotty.

The sun was just starting to set outside of your parents’ beach house you were staying in all summer. They would usually be here with you, but your dad’s decision to teach a summer college course ruined that for them this summer. But you definitely didn’t mind having the place to yourself.

You showered quickly and changed into comfortable clothes before grabbing a blanket, crossing the sidewalk and sitting on the shore right outside your house, admiring your view of the Atlantic Ocean, watching the colors in the sky change.

You leaned back on your elbows as you heard a crunch in the grass behind you.

You whipped your head around to see Shawn walking up to you, his hands buried in the pockets of his work uniform.

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting next to you.

“Hey,” you returned.

“Can we talk? What’s up with you?” He asked as if he genuinely had no idea, turning to face you.

You didn’t move your eyes from the waves washing up on the shore as you sighed and ran your hands over your face.

“You never called.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Twice. In eight months,” you said as you finally turned to him. “More like twice within the first month, and then you didn’t call for seven months.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said.

“I want an explanation,” you said, begging your voice not to raise. “We spent a whole summer together where I assumed we would keep that up and then you pretty much ghosted me.”

“I didn’t ghost you.”

“Then what would you call that happened?” You tested.

Shawn sighed and turned to look at the water, resting his chin on his knees.

The next question danced on the tip of your tongue, and you tried to choke it down but to no avail.

“Was there someone else?”

The sigh that left his lips was enough of an answer for you.

“You could’ve told me,” you said quietly, no wanting the tears to get caught in your throat.

“How?” He asked as he turned to you with a soft smile. “The world we live in in the summer and the world we live in back at school are two very different worlds. Telling you would mean this world would end.”

It was a pathetic excuse.

“So you were just going to stop talking to me and then expect to get the same thing this summer?” You tested.

“I don’t expect anything from you, [Y/N].”

“Because you have a girl back at school.”

“Not anymore,” he snapped.

Your heart leapt and got caught in your stomach as you sat in silence.

“She’s out of the picture,” he said quietly. “She wasn’t ever really at school anyway. At some training program elsewhere.”

You didn’t say anything, not wanting to pry into something he didn’t want you to know.

“We had been fighting all week while she visited,” he started, not meeting your eyes. “And there was this stupid end of the year party she wanted us to go to. So I went. Just to see her dance with the quarterback of the football team to her favorite song that I assumed she’d come find me for.”

He paused and took a deep breath.

“At least, I was trying to find her for it.”

You still stayed quiet, not being able to find the words to say.

You weren’t sorry for him. You didn’t feel bad.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, almost in a way that was inviting you to say something.

“I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say,” you said, turning to look at him.

“I deserved it?” He questioned with a smirk on his face.

“You said it, not me,” you said as you let yourself smile.

“I did,” he said simply. “I did deserve it.”

“Glad we can agree.”

It went silent again as you watched the waves crash on the rocks. There was room for conversation, but you didn’t have anything left to say. You were mad, but you were still crazy about him.

“Can we pretend the last 8 months never happened?” he said.

You sighed as you buried your head in your blanket.

“No,” you said with a laugh.

He returned a smile, enjoying the sound of your laugh.

“Stupid question?”

“The stupidest.”

“Can we at least start over?” He asked. “Can I at least get another chance?”

You took a minute to stare at the intricate stitching of your blanket, trying to ignore his intense stare.

You finally looked up at him, admiring how the setting sun made his eyes look they had flicks of honey in them.

It was crazy how quickly he got you to forget.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

He smiled, and damn, you missed that smile.

“But we take it slow,” you said as you pointed at him. “So damn slow, and I still can’t promise anything is going to happen.”

He kept the smile as he nodded his head, somehow already knowing that would be out the window by the end of next week.

“Deal,” he said as you draped the rest of the blanket over him and he moved closer to you.

You both laid down, your shoulders touching as you stared at the sky. Eventually, your head found its way to his shoulder and your hand to his wrist as his hand found its place on your knee.

“Can I stay over-“

“Absolutely not.”

“It was worth a shot.”

And you let him continue to take shots. And one after the other you either brushed them off or just let them happen. You were trying your hardest to put this past year behind you. Yet there were moments you remembered tearing down his picture from your desk and then moments after you were remembering skinny dipping at midnight.

“What are you up to tonight?” Shawn whispered to you, his arm holding up his weight against the counter as you arranged plates onto a tray.

“Mm, depends who’s asking,” you said softly back to him, looking up for a brief moment to meet his eyes.

“Scotty,” he said with a crinkled eyebrow and a smirk.

“Well, then I’m very free,” you said with a small smile, boosting the tray up as you walked away.

“You’re too much,” he said louder as you pushed the kitchen door open with your hip and looked back at him with a shrug of your shoulders.

“I know.”

So he showed up at your front door with takeout from your favorite restaurant and a bottle of wine along with a bouquet of flowers.

You leaned against the doorframe as you looked at him, your arms crossed across your chest as you scanned over the items in his hands.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” You asked, letting him in.

“Only for you,” he said softly.

You turned around and looked at him as he continued to walk towards you.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say to that one,” you warned.

“You’re right, I don’t,” he said.

He set everything on the counter, going straight for your cabinet where he knew the plates were, instantly falling into his old routine.

You sat on one of the stools and leaned your elbows on the counter as you watched him wander around the kitchen grabbing utensils and wine glasses. You tried to calm your heart beat as he slid you your plate and wine and sat next to you.

He clinked his glass against yours before you both took a drink, silence falling between the two of you as you began to eat.

You glanced out the window, watching the sunset on the water. You could feel his eyes on the back of your head.

You turned around to meet his eyes, the sun illuminating his features in indescribable ways. Your eyes stayed locked with his as you took a sip, setting the glass back down and turning to look at him fully.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

He cocked his head to the side as he took a bite, lightly shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

You gestured to the meal in front of you and to the flowers in a vase in the middle of the counter.

“Because I fucked up,” he said, meeting your eyes again.

You stayed silent, urging him to say more.

“I should have called. I know that. And I knew that then, but I just didn’t want to hear your voice. I knew the moment I heard it, I wouldn’t even tell you,” he paused, his eyes leaving yours for a moment to watch the sun. “But I’m going to do whatever I can to prove to you how I feel. Because I’m crazy about you, and only you.”

Your hand gripped onto the counter as you played his words in your head, trying not to picture who this other girl even was, praying the image of him with someone else would just go away.

You poured more wine into your glass, swishing the liquid soft back and forth as Shawn waited for you to say something.

“I’m trying, Shawn,” you said softly. “I’m trying to start over, but it’s hard.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I know that’s my fault, and I’ll do whatever I can to make it right.”

You sat in silence staring down at your hands. You had a million other things to shoot back at him. Like how you were drunk one night and couldn’t stop thinking about him so you cried until you threw up. Or the fact that your roommate hates the name Shawn just because of what she had to deal with the last school year. Or how you almost blocked his phone number just so you could blame that on the lack of calls.

But that all fell short when his hand came into your downward-facing view, delicately setting it atop yours, forcing you to look back up at him as he laced his with yours, the sparks returning.

“Ok,” you whispered, not having the heart to say anything else.

With that, Shawn nodded his head and took your plate from you, bringing your dishes to the sink to wash them quickly. You poured the two of you another glass, noticing how quickly the bottle of wine had slipped away as you felt light.

Without another word, Shawn opened the back door, and you stood up to follow him out, handing him his glass as the two of you sat down on the swing on your back porch. You weren’t really thinking as you swung your legs over his, his hand resting on your knees as you rested your head on his shoulder, your body curling around his.

You could feel Shawn looking down at you as you watched the sunset. You let out a breath before looking up at him, his nose nearly brushing against yours as his thumb rubbed circles into your knee, his other arm around you, still gripping his wine glass.

“I forgive you,” you whispered without so much as a second thought, just saying whatever came to mind.

Shawn didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours. Your hand found its way to his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours before you pulled back, your forehead resting against his.

“I missed that,” he said softly, nudging his nose against yours before pressing another quick kiss to your lips.

You simply hummed in response, leaning your head on his shoulder once again, moving closer to him to the point where you were almost completely on his lap.

Both of your glasses were abandoned onto the table in front of you as you fully curled into him, feeling like it was last summer all over again.

The feeling of his finger drawing patterns on your shoulder was more intoxicating than the half bottle of wine you’d drank.

“Can you stay?” You asked as you looked up at him.

He smiled a soft smile that made your heart leap as he nodded his head.

“Of course.”

You woke up the next morning twisted in bedsheets as his arm weighed on your waist and your legs tangled together.

You turned in his arms, causing him to wake up as you traced your finger down his jaw.

“Do you work?” You whispered.

“Good morning to you, too,” he said sarcastically as he blinked the tiredness out of his eyes.

“Good morning,” you said. “So do you work?”

He smiled at you and shook his head.

“No, I’m off today.”

“Me too.”

“But we have that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The festival downtown. Everyone is going tonight,” Shawn reminded you.

You groaned as you buried your head into his chest as he laughed at you.

“I forgot I promised I’d go,” you mumbled.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he encouraged.

You looked up at him before he continued.

“And I’ll be there, and that’s really all you need,” he said with a grin.

You hit his chest softly before rolling out of bed and tossing a pillow in his face. He caught it before it could actually hit him and tossed it to the end of the bed. He sat up against the headboard, watching you gather a few things around your room to get ready.

You turned to meet his wandering eyes as he smiled at you.

“Go home,” you said simply.

His jaw dropped in a joking manner as he cuddled into the sheets instead.

“No,” he mumbled.

“Well, I’m going to go get ready. Whether you’re here or not when I’m back, I really don’t care,” you whispered before you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re breaking my heart, [Y/L/N],” he called after you as you turned to look back at him once you reached the door to the bathroom, an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t have to say anything. I walked into that one,” he said before you could say anything.

You simply hummed in response before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

You got ready fairly quickly, trying to listen to see if Shawn was still in the room or not. You slipped on the sundress you had picked out and opened the bathroom door to an empty room.

But that was long abandoned once you saw him sitting on the balcony.

He must have heard the door open, so he turned around to look at you and smiled.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly as you walked up to him.

“Mm, I know,” you said as you sat next to him.

“You’re making this hard,” he said through a laugh.

“I know,” you said, this time a little sterner before he rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Well, I made you coffee. It’s sitting on the counter downstairs. I’ll pick you up in a few hours?” He asked as he stood up and walked back into the room and you followed.

“Maybe not,” you said slowly.

He turned around and shot you a confused look.

“I can just meet you there,” you said as casually as you could, running your hand against the back of the chair to distract yourself.

You heard him snicker and could see him shaking his head out of the corner of your eye.

“You don’t want anyone to know,” he said quietly.

You finally looked up to meet his eyes, seeing the hurt from across the room, but you didn’t falter.

“I’m still figuring things out,” you started. “And everyone knew last summer which made it that much harder when they asked about you.”

He nodded his head in response, looking down at his feet.

“I just think it should stay between us right now,” you whispered.

“Will that change?” He asked softly.

You shrugged your shoulders and crinkled your nose as Shawn just nodded.

“Then I’ll see you there,” he said with a sad smile as he walked out of your room.

You waited a moment before following after him, meeting him at the front door as he slipped his shoes on.

You were face to face as he stood up, and you stood on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips before resting your forehead against yours.

“I trust you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said back at the same volume. “I trust you, too.”

Without another word and a quick hand squeeze, Shawn walked out and went home.

You leaned your back against the door, hitting your head against it a little too hard, overthinking what just happened. You shook the feeling quickly as you found the mug he had set out for you on the kitchen counter, sipping it and instantly knowing he still knew how to make your coffee. You faltered yet again in your thinking but still didn’t change your mind.

You grabbed your laptop and made your way to the back porch to go through emails you knew you had forgotten about, skimming through responses to your job applications for fall internships.

You deleted a bunch, most of them saying they were still in the interview process until one caught your eye.

You opened it up quickly and read through it carefully.

This was your dream internship, a year in New York City studying fashion. It started this September and went until the next.

And you had made the next round of interviews.

You shot your parents and your best friend a quick text with an update and emailed them back with your available times within the next week, quickly setting out the times in your planner.

You tried to calm your beating heart, trying to not let your hopes get up only to come crashing down once you didn’t get it.

You weren’t even sure you’d make it this far, and now you’re at the final stage of phone interviews before you fly out to New York for the final interview at the end of August.

You let Shawn wander back into your head again after you sent the email back to them. The lingering thought of not spending next summer with him stuck in your head, but you pushed it back. You were putting you first. This was a big deal, and you wouldn’t let the thought of Shawn ruin it.

You had to remind yourself continuously how different this summer was from last summer. You weren’t the same, and you knew he wasn’t either.

Your thoughts made you lose track of time, the reminder on your phone popping up and reminding you to leave.

You parked your car behind the mall across the street from the summer festival and walked over to the sign everyone was meeting at.

Shawn was already there, and you smiled at him quickly before standing over by Scotty. Shawn was across the circle from you as he kept his eyes on you. You shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes before turning to whoever was next to him.

When you looked at Scotty, he was already looking at you, his eyebrows shot up.

“I did not see what I think I just saw,” he said through a forced smile.

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you said with the same smile.

He sighed before you all started walking to the games. You bought some tickets and made your way to the ring toss along with another one of your coworkers Sydney.

Shawn walked up from behind you, his hand skimming yours before moving away.

“Bet I can beat you,” he said slyly as he walked backward in front of you.

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re on.”

The two of you stood on the opposite sides of the booth as Sydney cheered you on.

Just as you knew you would, you kicked his ass.

You tucked your new bear underneath your arm as the three of you walked to the next game.

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Sydney tested as Shawn groaned.

“No one asked you, Syd,” Shawn shot back.

You held in your laugh as you made your way to the food tents and Sydney wandered off to find someone else.

It was just the two of you, and you knew Shawn was moments away from reaching for your hand. So you switched your bear into the other hand, blocking his attempt.

You heard him sigh as you held your giggle back.

You both bought some food, finding the others at the picnic tables in the middle. You sat next to Shawn and across from Scotty as he sent you another look.

Everyone ate and talked as you listened to the live music being played. Bitching about customers as you sipped at cheep beer was one of your favorite things to do.

You felt Shawn’s hand periodically graze against your leg, prompting you to cross them every time and push at his hand. You earned a scoff from him every time with a look of knowing disapproval from Scotty.

“Where are you parked?” Shawn whispered in your ear.

You rolled your eyes at him before glancing around the table and leaning back into him.

“Behind the mall.”

Shawn simply nodded his head, dodging the look from Scotty and looking back to the band on stage. You let his hand graze across yours that time.

Eventually your group made their way to standing with everyone else along the side of the stage, swaying and dancing to the local band.

After a half hour, you felt Shawn’s hand press against your hip and his chest against your back.

“Meet me behind the mall,” he whispered before his body left yours.

You quickly turned around only to see his back as he walked away, making his way towards the exit.

You turned back around to see Sydney looking at you, seeing the whole thing.

You simply shook your head at her, hoping that would silence her for now, and you could talk to her later. And it worked, but you saw the look of worry in her eyes. She was another one you’d call late at night and ask why he wasn’t calling.

You waited a few moments before saying goodbye to everyone and slowly backing away from the group, trying not to get roped up into a conversation with Scotty and Sydney. You knew what they were doing.

You hugged Scotty tight and whispered in his ear, “I’ll explain to you and Syd later.”

He pulled away and let out his breath of air. “You’re damn right you will.”

You waved at both of them before jogging towards the exit, your sandals and bear held tightly in your hand.

The sun was setting as you rounded the corner of the mall to see Shawn leaning against your car, the sun illuminating him perfectly once again.

“Took you long enough,” he said as he pushed off your car and stood in front of you.

You looked up at him with a stern look on your face.

“Both Scotty and Sydney know something is up because you can’t keep your hands to yourself for two seconds,” you said before unlocking your car and climbing in. You waited for him to climb into the passenger seat before you started it and drove home.

“They’re your best friends. I’m sure it’s fine,” he said casually.

You scoffed as you shook your head, turning sharply down your street.

“You don’t get it,” you said before parking and turning to him. “They were cursing your name a few months ago. Telling me how they’d do everything to make sure we didn’t have to interact this summer. They were the people I called at 2:00 am when I couldn’t think straight. They’re not happy, Shawn.”

He stayed silent as you both climbed out of the car and he followed you inside.

“I don’t know how many more times I can say I’m sorry for this last year,” he said, the anger rising in his voice.

You slammed your keys onto the counter, making him jump slightly.

“I’m not asking for an apology. I already forgave you for that. I’m telling you that I asked you to act normal for one fucking night, and you couldn’t even do that for me,” you snapped, begging your voice not to falter.

Shawn leaned on the counter with his arms folded and his jaw set tight, staying silent.

“I’m trying really hard, Shawn, and I know you are, too. But there are moments like tonight where I think you’re still just living for the hope of it all instead of thinking rationally for three hours,” you said, tugging at the roots of your hair.

“I am trying, and I have changed. I would not have tried this hard last summer,” he snapped back at you.

“I’m starting to think you’re not really changing for the better,” you said without a second thought.

“And you’re one to talk?” he fired back.

Your face went emotionless as you stared at him. You could tell he regretted saying that.

“You want to explain that one?” You questioned.

He stayed silent, not meeting your eyes.

“I’m just saying-“

“I don’t want to hear it. Just because I’m not taking your bullshit anymore doesn’t mean I’m somehow worse,” you interrupted him.

You heard him sigh as he leaned his elbows on the counter and ran his hands through his hair.

You took a few deep breaths, staring at the top of his head and waiting for him to look back up.

“I went too far tonight, and I’m sorry,” he finally said as he looked up at you.

You tried to hide the shocked look on your face, not expecting him to even apologize for what happened tonight.

He rounded the counter, trapping you between him and the counter with his arms on either side of you, your arms still crossed.

“We gotta stop this, [Y/N],” he said softly.

You nodded, letting your head fall forward and rest on his shoulder.

“I’m trying,” you whispered.

You could feel him nod his head as he wrapped his arms tightly around your back.

“Me too,” he responded. “And I’m going to start trying a lot harder.”

You stood in his embrace for a few minutes, listening to his heartbeat as he rocked the both of you back and forth.

“I’m still crazy about you,” he whispered. “And that’s not going to change, no matter how fucking stupid I can be.”

You let yourself giggle at that as you pulled back and rested your hands on his cheeks, taking in this moment.

You just nodded your head before giving him a quick kiss and falling back into his embrace.

—

The next morning you jog into your shift with your hair half done and ten minutes late. You punched in quickly before pinning back a few pieced of hair in the reflection off a pot.

“You’re late,” Syd said as she whisked past you. She set down her tray next to Scotty as they both looked at you with nearly identical looks.

“I slept through my alarm,” you mumbled as you threw on your open and moved closer to them.

“Is that a me or a we?” Scotty asked quietly.

“Not important,” you replied, sorting the plates Scotty was finishing onto the tray.

“Well, that answers it,” Scotty said as he raised an eyebrow at Syd.

“Drinks tonight at Bobby’s?” Syd asked, refilling a few glasses.

“Yeah, you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do,” Scotty cut in.

You sighed as you boosted the tray up onto your shoulder.

“Works for me,” you said before walking into the dining room and delivering the food to a family in the corner.

Your shift went by quickly as the restaurant was way busier than usual.

Syd helped fill a table full of glasses with you as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Scotty and I were thinking of doing the drive-in after drinks, you in?” She asked.

“Of course I’m in, I can’t believe I haven’t gone yet this summer,” you replied.

“Well, you’ve obviously been busy,” she teased.

“You’re killing me, Syd,” you said through a sigh as the two of you left the kitchen to bring the drinks back to the table.

A few hours later and you happily hung up your apron and almost skipped out the back door before running into Shawn.

“Hey,” he said softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Were you late this morning?”

“Ten minutes, and I didn’t hear the end of it,” you replied, walking backwards to your car to keep talking to him.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah, kind of, why?” You asked as you leaned against your car.

He shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the door handle.

“I’m just not doing anything, but I’ll call you later, maybe,” he said before shooting you one last smile and disappearing inside.

You pushed off your car and drove home to shower and get ready to meet Scotty and Syd at the bar.

They were both waiting for you with a drink at a secluded table in the corner.

“So, first, may I say, what the fuck are you thinking?” Scotty started.

“No idea,” you said simply. “Not a single damn clue.”

“How’d he sweet talk you this time? It has to be different since he had a fucking girlfriend to explain,” he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, swirling your straw in your drink.

“We talked that first night. Just about everything. And he was honest about it all, which I guess was a good sign for me. I said I’d give him a second chance, but we’d have to take it slow, and he respected that,” you explained.

“But I’m guessing it was no longer slow after like three weeks?” Syd asked.

“Two,” you said back.

“Jesus Christ,” Scotty mumbled as he took a big drink.

“Just please, for the love of God, be careful,” Syd said as she clasped onto your hand from across the table. “I can’t do this one more summer. This is the last one.”

“There might not be a next summer,” you said quietly as their eyes bore into you.

“What?” They both said at the same time.

“I applied for this fashion program in New York,” you started. “It’s literally the best of the best, and I didn’t think I’d get this far in the process. I have a phone interview tomorrow, and if they like me, I fly to New York for the final interview in August.”

“When does it start and end and everything?” Syd asked quickly.

“It would start this September and end next September,” you said. “Thus eliminating me coming back here for work next summer.”

“Shit,” Scotty mumbled. “I mean that’s amazing, and I know you’ll get it. You have to. But it’ll just be weird.”

You smile softly at him and whisk your hand in front of you.

“That’s an August thing. We have time before any of that,” you explained.

“Does Shawn know?” Syd asked.

You just shook your head, finishing the last sip of your drink.

“Why not?”

“It’ll complicate things,” you said. “And I just don’t know where we’ll even be in September.”

“Not a lot of hope in that statement,” Scotty pointed out.

“Just trying to be realistic,” you said quietly. “I feel like I’m just a summer thing. And if there’s no summer here, then there’s no us.”

Syd sighed as she leaned her head back against the booth.

“I hate to say this,” she started. “Like it physically pains me to say this, but I don’t think Shawn would’ve gone through the measures to get you back and to keep you if you were just a summer thing. I saw the way he was looking at you, [Y/N], and that isn’t a summer fling type of look.”

You stayed quiet as Scotty nodded in agreement, choosing to stare at the table instead of meeting their eyes.

“Stay hopeful, but be careful,” Syd reminded you.

“I know. I’m trying,” you said.

“Alright, this is kind of sad. Ready to go?” Syd asked as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Don’t hate me,” you said with a scrunched face.

“You are not about to cancel on us,” Scotty said, a hand on his hip.

“I have that interview tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to risk sleeping in again,” you gave a weak explanation.

“Fine,” Scotty sighed. “But I’m only okay with it because I want you to get your dream job.”

You hugged both of them goodbye before hopping in your car and driving home.

You pulled our your phone the minute you got home, going to text Shawn that you were in for the night if he wanted to come over.

You almost sent the message before hesitating as you remembered Syd telling you to be careful and Shawn saying he’d call you.

You stared at it for a moment before shaking your head at yourself and deleting the text.

If he wants to see you, he’ll call.

You applied a face mask and sat in the living room to watch Netflix, periodically peaking at your phone just to see nothing.

Shortly before midnight, you gave up and went to bed.

You tried not to feel disappointed.

—

You interview went as perfectly as it could, and you felt buzzed as you cleaned up your house in the early afternoon.

Shawn showed up shortly after his shift was done with sandwiches from work and set them in front of you on the counter before kissing you quickly.

“You’re in a good mood,” he pointed out with a smile as you unpackaged the food.

You shrugged your shoulders with a small smile, taking a quick bite. You quickly thought about whether or not you should tell him but decided against it.

“Just feeling happy,” you said simply.

The call the next morning telling you they’d love to see you in New York in three weeks nearly sent you through the roof.

Syd and Scotty came over that night to celebrate with a bottle or two of wine on your porch as the sun set.

“And Shawn still doesn’t know?” Scotty asked carefully after you told them about the interview and the recent phone call.

You shook your head.

“Why not?” Syd asked.

“I don’t want to get distracted,” you started as you stared at your glass. “I don’t want to get caught up in him and stumble through an interview or something. I think it’s just better if I focus on me when it comes to this.”

“That’s good,” Scotty said. “That’s really good.”

“Yeah, but how do you explain New York for a few days?” Syd cut in.

“I’ll figure it out. Who knows, I might just tell him by that point. I never know with us,” you said through a sigh.

You heard your front door slam as Shawn walked in, all three of you watching him walk with his head in his phone. He stopped at the counter and leaned on it as he finished typing something, his eyebrows furrowed.

After a few minutes, he looked up and walked outside by the three of you.

“Hey, guys,” he said through a sigh as he waved to Syd and Scotty and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before sitting down next to you on the swing.

“Everything ok?” You whispered.

He nodded his head quickly.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just school stuff,” he said with a quick smile.

“What were you guys talking about?” Shawn asked.

“School,” you said quickly. “Syd changed her major again.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Shawn said as he took a sip out of your glass.

“Oh, shut up, Mendes,” she said with an eyeroll. “You’ve changed yours twice, and you settled on business. I’ve never met a man in business that I’ve liked.”

Shawn feigned offense as he handed your glass back to you.

“Says the elementary education major,” he tested.

“Nuh-uh,” she said quickly back, holding a band up to him. “Communications now.”

“Even better!” Shawn practically yelled.

You all laughed as you leaned your head on Shawn’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen slightly before slinging his arm around your shoulder and resting his head against yours.

Scotty sent you an approving smile as Shawn and Syd argued.

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

—

The weeks flew by as the days came closer to your trip to New York. Your plane and hotel were both booked, and you doubled checked everything at least twice a day. You left tomorrow, and you couldn’t help but worry something still wasn’t in place.

You guessed you could blame the fight you and Shawn were currently having on that.

He had stormed out a few minutes ago, and you don’t even remember what started the fight but you knew it ended with you saying you felt like you were just a summer thing.

The look on his face was one you couldn’t quite put your finger on before he told you that you knew that wasn’t it and left with his keys.

You curled your legs into your chest as you sat on the shore, watching the reflection of the moon bounce off the water as you twisted the corner of the blanket in your hand.

You heard the soft crunch of sand under shoes before you felt Shawn sit next to you.

You didn’t say anything, sick of being the one who has to resolve the argument.

“I shouldn’t have snapped like that,” he said after a few moments of silence.

You just nodded your head, feeling too numb to say anything.

“And you’re not just a summer thing, and I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like that. This isn’t the same thing it was last year,” he explained.

You rested your head on your knees and took a deep breath, trying to calm your heart.

“Ok,” you choked out.

“That’s it?” He asked softly.

“That’s really all I can muster up right now,” you said, stuffing the sob that wanted to come out to the bottom of your throat.

“I just don’t know if I can keep doing this,” you said, letting a tear slip out. “All we do is fight, and summer is going to end and we’ll be right back to last year, and I know I can’t take that again.”

Shawn pulled you into him, and you buried your head in his chest, feeling his rampant heartbeat.

“Please don’t say that, [Y/N],” he said quickly, rocking you carefully back and forth. “This is different. This is so different.”

“It just doesn’t feel like that all the time,” you said quietly.

“I know, I get it,” he whispered, pressing kisses onto the back of your head.

You left it at that, letting him hold you tightly as you stared at the water.

“We’re going to be okay,” he reminded you as he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

You softened at the gesture and nodded your head.

“I leave tomorrow,” you said, remembering you never told him.

“Where?” He asked.

“Just going home for a little bit,” you said casually. “It’s just been weird not seeing my parents as much during the summer.”

“Yeah, makes sense. They’ll be happy to see you.”

You nodded your head, trying not to feel bad about the lie but knowing it was the right thing to do.

“Need a ride to the airport?” He asked.

You pulled back and looked at him, admiring the way the moon made him look before you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

You pulled away a moment later and nodded your head.

“That would be great,” you whispered.

Shawn pulled you back in, your lips crashing against his as he fell back on the blanket, your legs falling to either side of his waist as you couldn’t help the smile that wanted to interrupt the kiss.

—

Shawn dropped you off bright and early at the airport leaving you with your coffee and a kiss. You could feel his eyes on your back before you turned around at the door and blew him a kiss. He dramatically caught it and tucked it into his jacket pocket. You watched his face turn serious as his phone rang, offering you one last wave before answering it. You watched his car pull away before finally walking into the airport.

After going through security, you found a bathroom to look more like a professional fashion major instead of a girl going home to see her parents. The guilt and anxiety in your stomach ate away at your insides, but you continued to convince yourself that this was for the better.

Your flight was short, and before you knew it, you were dragging your carry-on behind you and searching for the sign with your name on it.

You scanned the email quickly with the details saying one of the current fashion interns would pick you up and bring you to your hotel before bringing you to the interview.

You found a patch of people with signs, finally finding one with your name sprawled across it. Your eyes wandered from the sign to the person holding it.

You let a laugh leave your mouth as the two of you made eye contact, and she smiled at you.

“Inez Miller, you have got to be joking,” you said as you pulled her into a hug, and she laughed into your shoulder.

“The second they gave me your name I knew it had to be my [Y/N] [Y/L/N] who I fashioned barbies with in the second grade, but I just had to surprise you,” she said as you followed her towards the exit.

“So you’re currently in the program?” You asked. “What the hell? How did I not know this?”

She nodded her head as she dumped the sign in the nearest trash can.

“Yeah, I am. It’s honestly one of the best things I’ve ever done. I have learned so much and have had so much fun in the process,” she said with a genuine smile across her face. “And you know me, I stay quiet on social media so I can soak in everyone else’s tea. And I’ve been far too busy to call anyone except my dad.”

You signed as you put your bag in her back seat.

“You’re going to make this hurt so much more if I don’t get it,” you taunted as you climbed in the car.

She shook her head at you as she started the car and dodged through the traffic.

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but I’m going to anyway,” she said as she looked at you briefly. “One of the candidates already dropped out. They’re down to three.”

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

“You just have to beat one of them, and I think you have a really good chance. They’re excited about you,” she encouraged.

“That’s still scary,” you said softly.

“I know, hun. I did the same thing this time last year. But you’re phenomenal. Look at you in your lavender power suit. You were born for this,” she said.

You laughed at her compliment and looked down at your feet.

“But enough about that. You have to destress. How’s life? How’s Virginia Beach for the summer?” She fired questions at you.

“Really good,” you said softly. “Honestly, it’s been different and a little weird, but I’m finally feeling good about that.”

She side-eyed you as she stopped at a red light.

“There’s a guy isn’t there,” she said as she raised her eyebrows.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced down at his picture in your lock screen, flipping your phone over when Inez leans over to get a closer look.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” you said slowly.

“It’s complicated?’

“So complicated.”

“Come on, girl. You’ve gotta say more. We’re in NYC traffic,” she pried.

“We kind of dated last summer. Then he ghosted when he went back to school. Only to find out he started seeing someone. He came back-“ you started explaining before she cut you off.

“Hold up,” she said as she held her hand up. “He ghosted you? After being with you for an entire summer? And then he started seeing another girl? And you’re about to tell me that you took him back?” She questioned.

“I told you. It’s complicated,” you said through a laugh.

“Oh dear God. What kind of bullshit did he pull for that to happen?”

“Honestly didn’t take much,” you admitted.

“I knew it. You’re such a pushover,” she said as she shook her head.

“He just does things to me that I can’t explain,” you said as you shook your head.

“But if he does this again, I’ll be down there in record time to kick his ass,” she said, glancing over at you. “Just please be careful, [Y/N].”

“I am,” you said. “I’m well aware of the possibility that I won’t be in Virginia Beach next summer, but that’s a bridge I’ll cross if I get there.”

“When you get there,” Inez corrected.

“We’ll see,” you said. “But enough about me, how’s your summer been? All work no play?”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started,” she said as she hit her head against the seat. “I love this job. I really do. It’s the best thing to ever happen to me, so I don’t mind that I worked full time with over time all summer. But beyond that, the other intern has been going through the weirdest breakup ever.”

“How so?”

“So they went to high school together, but never really knew each other then. She was the star of her high school, and he wasn’t. The way she made it sound, he could never get her back then. They went to the same college, flirted freshman year and started kind of dating at the end but not really. They went their separate ways for the summer and then she gets this job. And she didn’t tell him until she didn’t show up to school for the fall semester. He literally flew here to see her,” she said.

“Oh my God,” you said. “This hurts even more knowing that this story isn’t going to end well.”

“You have no idea,” she said. “So they start dating long distance. She would fly out to see him almost once a month. Sometimes more. He rarely flew here, though. I’ve maybe seen him twice in the past year. So his school year ends. And before he goes off to some small ass town on the east coast, he tells her they should take a fucking break.”

“He tried that hard for nine months and couldn’t do three more?” You questioned.

“Oh, honey, it gets so much worse,” she warns. “He’s unreachable for like a month. Then suddenly he’s messaging her again. And then he’d go missing, and then two weeks later message her. It was insane. Every time she healed, he sucked her right back in.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you said with a head shake.

“My theory is that there’s obviously a girl back home which would explain the no commitment summers. I’m assuming the other girl knows nothing though. It sounds like this guy is pretty good at hiding shit,” Inez said. “And I’m not saying she’s not at fault, too. I just don’t think the two of them are ever meant to work, but they still keep doing this.”

“Damn. So you’ve just been dealing with trying to get her to stop talking to him?” You asked.

“Pretty much. I work so hard to help her get over it, and then he calls her. And we’re back to square one. It’s like they’re stuck in high school.”

“I mean I get it,” you said softly.

“I know you do. That’s why I’m telling you to be careful with this guy,” she warns one final time as she pulls into the parking garage of the hotel.

You nod your head before climbing out of the car.

“Trust me. I’ve got friends breathing down our backs to make sure he doesn’t try anything,” you explained as the two of you walked in.

“Good.”

After settling into your hotel room and listening to Inez ramble on about what she’s heard about your former elementary school friends, the two of you made your way to the office just down the block.

She squeezed your hand once before letting you into the office and leading you to the interview.

You swore you blacked out because it began and ended before you even knew it.

You walked back to your hotel alone, feeling like you did a good enough job, but still almost convincing yourself you didn’t.

You laid on the hotel bed in sweatpants and stared at the ceiling. You knew you had to go to sleep since you were supposed to go to the office tomorrow at 8 to find out if you got the job or not.

But sleep did not feel like coming.

And in perfect timing, your phone rang from your nightstand. You scooped it up and hit answer after seeing the contact.

“Hey, hun,” Shawn’s voice came from the other line. You could hear waves crashing.

“Hey,” you said as you settled into your bed.

“How’s home? How are your parents?” He asked.

You swallowed down the guilt before answering, “It’s good. They’re good.”

“You ok?” He asked, being able to read you like a book even through the phone.

“Yeah, just can’t sleep,” you said. “My parents wanted to get an early breakfast tomorrow.”

“Want me to stay on the phone with you?” He offered.

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

You put your phone on speakerphone and set it back on the nightstand, curling back into the covers.

You could hear the gentleness of his breath with the waves crashing, and you wanted nothing more than to be there.

“I miss you,” you said after a moment.

“I miss you, too, love,” he said. “But you’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll get Sandy’s.”

“That sounds perfect,” you mumbled, feeling sleep sneak up on you.

“Let yourself fall asleep. I can hear it in your voice,” he said through a gentle laugh.

“Can you still stay on until I’m asleep?” You asked, letting your eyes drift shut.

“Of course.”

You were startled awake by your alarm, quickly turning it off and staring at the ceiling for another moment. You took a few deep breaths, gave yourself a pep talk and got up to get ready.

You pulled on your best dress and got ready before chugging a cup of cheap, hotel coffee. You walked quickly to the office and made your way to the waiting room.

You fiddled with your thumbs and tapped your foot as you waited for someone to come get you.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” someone called.

You quickly stood up and followed them to a conference room down the hall.

There waited three people who offered you a smile as you took a seat across from them.

“[Y/N], we were extremely impressed by your resume and your interview yesterday,” the lead person said as she looked down at the sheets in her hands, her expression unreadable.

“Thank you,” you said.

“So we would like to offer you the position in this year’s program,” she said with a smile.

You pinched your leg and tried not to literally jump out of your seat.

“I accept. Wow, thank you so much,” you said as they slid you an envelope.

“We’ll send these home with you. Just some preliminary paperwork, housing stuff and the basics. And we’ll see you September 2,” she said as they stood up to shake your hand and walk you out.

Once you were out of the building, you called Syd immediately.

“I got the job,” you yelled before she could even say anything.

“I fucking knew you would!” She yelled right back. “Now get back here so we can celebrate.”

“Yes, yes, holy shit, Syd,” you said as you forced yourself to take a breath.

“Bitch, go call your parents,” she said through a laugh before she hung up and you called the rest of the people you had to let know.

You packed in record time, eager to get back to see everyone again.

It wasn’t until you were on the plane that it hit you.

Shawn didn’t know.

It consumed your thoughts on the way home, and you felt the guilt hit you as Shawn waited for you with flowers just outside the airport.

You hugged him tightly, burying your head in his chest as he rocked you back and forth.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You stayed silent on the way home, not wanting to fill it with lies about your trip.

Shawn set your bag down by the door as you walked in and sat on the couch.

“Ok, what’s going on?” Shawn asked as he carefully sat down next to you.

“I lied to you,” you said quickly. “I didn’t visit my parents. I had an interview in New York for an internship program.”

Shawn’s eyebrows knit together as he looked at you and shook his head.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to know that?” He asked, hurt evident in his voice.

“I just,” you started before taking a moment. “I got the job.”

“Ok?” He said, still confused. “That’s amazing. I’m so damn proud of you, but why didn’t you just tell me you were going to this interview?”

“I won’t be in Virginia Beach next summer,” you said.

“Oh.”

“And I was scared you’d try to change my mind or you wouldn’t want to waste your summer on me-“

“Stop,” he said, cutting you off. “[Y/N], I want you to be happy. I want you to follow your dreams. I would never do anything to prevent that, and I certainly wouldn’t leave you because of it.”

You hung your head as he talked. He didn’t even sound mad. He just sounded hurt.

“I am so sorry that I gave you any reason to think those things,” he said as he reached for your hand.

“I’m sorry, too,” you offered.

He gently tugged on your hand, and you curled into his side.

“Wow, fashion in New York?” Shawn asked as you nodded your head.

You could feel his heartbeat speed up as you traced shapes along his shirt.

“Yeah, it’s pretty insane,” you said.

“You’re going to kill it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m so proud of you.”

—

The days ticked by as you consumed yourself with paper work and phone calls while trying to spend as much time as you could with Shawn, even if most of your hangouts consisted of you doing work during it.

“I leave tomorrow,” you reminded Shawn as you laid on the beach to watch the sunset.

“I know,” he said softly.

You rested your head on his shoulder and willed yourself not to cry.

“Let’s not talk about it,” he said, pulling you down and into his side.

So you didn’t talk about it, instead letting yourself pretend it wasn’t happening as you enjoyed your last sunset of the summer.

After a night of almost no sleep, Shawn drove you to the airport.

He held you tightly in the lobby, running his hands up and down your back.

“Call when you get home,” he whispered.

“I will,” you said.

He didn’t let go, simply holding you higher.

You pressed one last kiss to his lips before walking to security, not turning around in fears you’d start crying.

Your few days at home flew by as you packed and prepared for the next year in New York. You were buzzing with excitement as you packed up nearly everything you had and shipped it to your apartment.

You were lucky enough to secure a studio apartment to yourself since the other intern was from NYC and didn’t need housing.

Once everything was set up, you pressed Shawn’s contact on your phone and fell back onto your bed.

“Hey there,” he said as he answered, a busy street evident behind him.

“I am calling you from my completely unpacked and decorated apartment,” you bragged.

“Absolutely everything is unpacked?” He tested.

“Ok, there might be one box in the kitchen, but I swear that’s it,” you said.

You could hear his laugh, and it just made your heart ache.

“You know, I’ve got space here for a visitor,” you said carefully.

“You’ve sent me pictures. There’s barely room for yourself.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said through a laugh.

“We’ll see,” he said after a moment. “This year is going to be tough.”

“That’s junior year, baby,” you said.

“It’s going to kill me,” he said. “I’m two days in and already swamped.”

“Well I’ll let you get to that homework, and I’m going to unpack my one box,” you said through a laugh.

“Have fun with that. I’ll talk to you soon,” he said before you said your goodbyes and hung up.

You pulled yourself out of your bed and found the one box left, filled with dishes and kitchen essentials. You tried organizing as quickly as you could just to get it done with.

Once that was finished, you moved back to your desk and pulled out the newest stack of paperwork to finish reading through it before orientation the next day.

Your phone buzzed next to you, and you answered and put it on speakerphone.

“This is [Y/N],” you said.

“Hey, babe, it’s Inez,” you heard her voice ring from the other end.

“Ugh, I’m so glad it’s you. I’m finishing up my orientation paperwork right now,” you squealed.

“That’s great,” she said.

“You don’t sound nearly as excited as I do,” you said.

“[Y/N], I have something to tell you,” she said a little too quickly.

“What’s up?” You said, setting your pen down.

“I know Shawn,” she said.

You looked at your phone in confusion.

“I never told you his name.”

“I know you didn’t. I saw a glimpse of his picture on your lock screen, and I wish I would’ve put it together way before this moment,” she scrambled.

“Inez, how do you know Shawn?” You said.

You could hear her sigh on the other side.

“[Y/N], there’s no easy way to say this, but I told you about the other intern, Betty?”

“Yeah.”

“The guy Betty was seeing was Shawn.”

You went silent as you stared at the wall. Piecing together the story in your head from what Inez and Shawn both told you.

“They never broke up,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, depends how you look at it, but that part doesn’t really matter,” she said before she paused. “I’m literally at Betty’s right now since I don’t start school for another week, so I decided to visit before I got swamped.”

She paused as you felt tears begging to prickle at the corners of your eyes.

“He just showed up at her doorstep like she’d drop everything for him, and damnit [Y/N], if I could’ve called you right there I would have when it all clicked together, and I hated that I didn’t catch it sooner. Betty has no idea you even exist. She has no idea I know you,” she rushed out.

Your tears began to fall as you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back the sobs.

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” you heard Inez say in the distance.

“I have to go,” you said, hanging up before she could say anything else.

You stood up and paced back and forth, feeling like you had nothing else to do as you tugged at the ends of your hair. You snatched the picture of Shawn off your desk and threw it in the garbage can without another thought.

You should’ve seen this coming.

You took a moment to pull yourself together before you called Shawn.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “I’m kind of busy right now, can I call you later?”

You could hear noise in the background. Noise that certainly wasn’t his homework.

“You know my friend Inez?” You said quickly.

He didn’t say anything, but you could hear rustling as the noise slowly disappeared.

“What are you talking about, [Y/N]?” He asked.

“My friend Inez, the one I told you about from the New York program,” you said, beginning to pace again.

“We might’ve crossed paths before,” he tried to cover.

You scoffed, and Shawn knew he was done.

“I know everything,” you said softly. “Every piece of it, Shawn. I know you’re at her party right now. I know how the two of you got together and how you just wanted to take a break for the summer.”

Shawn didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to figure out how he could possibly come back from this.

“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll sort this out. [Y/N], I promise it isn’t as bad as it sounds. Please just-“ he paused and sighed and you could practically see him running his hand through his hair.

“No,” you said before he could finish. “There’s no way you can spin this, Shawn.”

“Baby, please. I’ll call you later-“

“You were never mine.”

“Don’t say that, please. Don’t say that.”

“I wasn’t,” you snapped. “I have waited for you and forgiven you a time too many and to think this whole time I was just a summer thing when the real one was back at school.”

“You know you were so much more than that to me.”

“No, I don’t,” you yelled. “This whole time you played me like I was clueless. But I know everything now, Shawn.”

You paused, hearing his heavy breathing on the other end.

“We’re done, Shawn,” you said. “Please don’t contact me ever again,” you choked out, the tears coming back.

“Don’t cry, baby. Please we’ll talk-“

You hung up before he could finish.

—

You buried yourself in your work for the next week, doing whatever you could to know the ins and outs of this place as soon as possible.

When anyone asked why you seemed off, you shrugged and told them you were just stressed.

Scotty and Syd were each calling every day, and you stopped answering after the second day. Inez called a few times, and you ignored those, too.

You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to forget you ever let Shawn Mendes ruin you multiple times.

After a night of staying late to help one of the head stylists, an opportunity not presented to many, you arrived back at your building at 11:00, taking your heels off the second you stepped into the lobby.

You leaned against the wall of the elevator, closing your eyes for a few minutes before it dinged at your floor.

You watched the floor as you walked.

Until two feet stood in front of your door.

You followed them up to see him standing there, bags under his eyes and one thrown over his shoulder.

“Shawn,” you said, just louder than a whisper.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, the solemn look on his face speaking volumes until he cracked a half-smile.

“Heard your room has space for a visitor,” he said, his eyes darting to meet yours.

You looked up at him, hesitating to let him in, but after remembering the time and his college across the country, you decided you didn’t have much of a choice.

You moved past him, unlocking your door and leaving it open behind you. He waited a moment before walking in and softly shutting the door behind him.

“I really don’t have the energy to talk about this tonight,” you said as you set your bag on your desk, turning to look at him still standing by the door.

“Then we’ll talk in the morning,” he said.

You just nodded, moving past him to go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. You shut the door and leaned your forehead against it, questioning why you even let him in. You let a few tears fall as you washed your face and threw your hair up. You pulled on your pajamas and took one more deep breath before opening the door.

Shawn sat on the edge of your bed, looking uncomfortable. Your apartment was far too small for a couch, so besides your bed and your desk, you just had a chair in the corner.

You didn’t say anything as you waked to the other side of the bed and pulled your covers back, pulling them back on his side as well.

He took the silent cue and climbed in slowly next to you. A few inches laid between the two of you as you both laid on your backs and stared at your ceiling fan.

You turned to your side after a moment, not wanting Shawn to take the opportunity to start talking. Had it have been any other night, there’s no way you would’ve fallen asleep with him this close to you, but after a long day, you drifted off to the steady sounds of his breathing, imagining for a second you were back to just a few weeks ago.

You woke up the next morning with a startle as you sat up abruptly after a nightmare. The sixth one you’d had this week. You caught your breath as Shawn shifted next to you.

“Are you ok?” He mumbled.

“‘m fine,” you mumbled back as you climbed out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen.

You downed a glass of water as you watched Shawn slowly wake up and sit up, his eyes scanning over your pictures along your wall. You watched his eyes settle on one of the two of you that you hadn’t had the time to replace yet.

You moved back into the main room, sitting in the chair in the corner and pulling your feet underneath you.

“I’ve decided that I don’t want to talk,” you said with confidence as Shawn’s face dropped.

He moved to say something, but you cut him off before he could.

“I won’t be the other woman. I won’t be the second choice. I shouldn’t have to give you any other reason,” you said.

Shawn simply nodded his head. You tried to ignore his eyes beginning to turn red.

“I think you should go,” you choked out.

Shawn got up slowly, grabbing his backpack and moving to the door. You followed closely behind him. He turned the doorknob before turning back to you.

“I know I have begged for a second chance a time too many, but I promise this’ll be the last time I ever need one,” he said desperately, a tear falling.

You let out a breath before reaching forward and grabbing his hand softly one last time and giving it a gentle squeeze before you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You know I can’t do that,” you said as you faced him again.

Shawn nodded and walked out the door. You leaned against the doorframe as he began to walk away.

“Shawn,” you said before you could stop yourself. He turned around, a desperate look still in his eyes.

“I did love you,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “And maybe one day, I’ll be able to again. But that’s up to you at this point.”

He nodded his head almost frantically as his hand gripped his backpack desperately.

“Goodbye, Shawn,” you said, him waving back, not trusting his voice before you slipped back into your apartment.

You leaned against the door, your head hitting it softly.

The tugging in your heart stopped, and your head stopped racing.

You felt content.

—

It felt refreshing to wake up to the sound of gentle waves in the morning. You sat up in bed for a moment, admiring the morning light with the mixture of the reflection of the Christmas lights. You could hear your mom and dad bustling in the kitchen to make Christmas Eve breakfast for just the three of you before your extended family came over for dinner.

You pulled yourself out of bed and threw on a cardigan before meeting your parents in the kitchen, sitting down at the island, and biting into a piece of bacon.

You stood up and walked to the sliding doors, wanting to watch the shore while you drank your coffee.

But once your eyes scanned the shore, you were met with an unmistakable figure.

You set your coffee down and curled your sweater tighter to you as you opened the door and walked across the broken cobblestones, sitting down next to him. He turned to you after a second, offering you a soft smile.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said.

“Change of plans this year,” you returned.

“I always liked your view better,” he said, gesturing to the shore.

“I know.”

There was no worry in your heart anymore. You were able to sit next to him like it was the first time, yet like he was a completely different person, yet like you’d known him your whole life.

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling him relax underneath your touch.

“I haven’t talked to her since that night,” Shawn said. “I told her everything, and I ended things. I’ve done a lot of thinking these past few months, and I know where I stand.”

He paused, looking down at you as your eyes stayed glued to the waves.

“I always wanted her in high school, a child-like crush, really. So when college came around and she’d want to be with me, I’d go back to this idealized version of my high school self when I should’ve been a freaking adult. It’s like I could finally be the guy she wanted to be with,” he started to explain.

“I guess a part of me was unaware that I had grown up, that I didn’t really want her like that anymore,” he said, exhaling the stress pent up in his chest.

“I don’t want to be the guy who hurt anyone like that,” he whispered. “And I’m not him anymore. And I know that might not be enough and it isn’t an excuse, but I just need you to know.”

You nodded your head against his shoulder, not feeling the pit in your stomach you assumed you’d feel when you talked to him again.

“You were never just a summer thing,” he finally said, the desperation evident in his voice. “You were so much more than that.”

“I know,” you said softly.

You removed your head from his shoulder as you looked up at him. His eyes met yours, and you cupped his cheek, running your thumb across his cheekbone as he leaned into your touch.

“You messed up,” you reminded him, offering him a soft smile.

“I know,” he said as you could feel his smile against your hand.

“You’re going to have a lot of proving wrong to do.”

“I know.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from his. The look in them being more sincere than you’d ever seen them.

“I’m not him anymore,” he reminded you again.

“I know,” you said softly with a nod of your head. “But I’ve also done a lot of thinking these past few months.”

You felt his smile fall as you closed your eyes for a moment to gather yourself.

“I love you, Shawn. And I think I always will,” you paused. “But I think we both need more time.”

He nodded his head as you withdrew your hand from his cheek.

“I love you,” he said for the first time, meaning every ounce of it. “And I’ll be here if or when you’re ready.”

You nodded your head, standing up slowly before helping him up. You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him tightly as he wrapped his around your shoulders. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning around and walking back to your house.

You turned around once you reached the door, seeing him watch you from the shore.

You closed the door behind you and went to sit down with your parents. You could still see him from your spot at the table.

He had sat back down, and you could see the relaxation in his shoulders.

You felt content.

—

As you packed up the last of your apartment, you took a step back and scanned the room, looking for anything you might’ve missed. You grabbed your keys and purse before shutting the door behind you.

“Are we finally done?” Scotty sighed from behind you.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re done,” you said as Scotty grabbed your suitcase and the two of you made your way to the elevator. “You didn’t have to come to help me move,” you reminded him.

“Oh and have you move out on your own since the middle of September is inconvenient for literally every other human in your life? Yeah, what a great friend I’d be,” he scoffed.

The two of you rode down in silence before setting the last of your stuff to be shipped back home.

You walked up the street to a cafe for lunch before flying back home.

As you began to eat in silence, you had to ask the question nagging in the back of your head.

“Shawn was really good this summer,” Scotty said before you could even ask.

“How’d you know I was going to ask that?” You asked with a laugh.

“I can read you like a book, Ms. [Y/N],” he reminded you.

He paused, leaning back in his chair and setting his napkin on the table.

“[Y/N], it was like he was a completely different person,” he said with an exhale, like he couldn’t even believe his own words. “I swear on my life, I actually enjoyed being around him. We hung out all the time. And he didn’t incessantly ask about you like I was afraid he would. He’d ask when you came up, but that was it. But it was still so sincere every time.”

“I saw him over Christmas,” you admitted.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he leaned forward, urging you to continue.

“He was different, and I could tell. But I was so scared that it was just a front,” you said.

“It’s not,” Scotty said simply.

You nodded in response, running out of words.

“I never thought I’d be the one to say this,” he paused. “But if you told me that the two of you were together, I’d be thrilled.”

He rested his hand on top of yours.

“He really has changed, and I think you need to give him another chance,” he said softly.

—

You knocked gently on the door, the nerves in your stomach disappearing as you finally arrived.

He creaked the door open and smiled once he saw it was you.

“What are you doing here, [Y/L/N]?” Shawn asked as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m ready,” you said simply.

His smile grew as he grabbed your hand and tugged you into his apartment, pressing your back against the door once it closed.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded your head, leaning it to the side.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you said confidently before he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You separated moments later, your smiles coming between you.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips still centimeters from yours.

“I love you,” you replied, pulling him in once more.

“Take it slow?” He offered.

“That never worked anyway,” you said, pulling his body tightly against yours as his lips met yours again, the memory of August drifting away into a moment in time.

REBLOG. COMMENT. SHARE. SEND ME LOVE. SEND ME HATE. IDC JUST SEND ME SOMETHING. I WANNA HEAR FROM YOU.

Real talk though: i have so many origin ideas, side ideas and developmental things that go along with this fic so i want you to send me all your thoughts, theories and opinions to see if anyone gets where my head was coming from with how i chose to end it. so if you hated that they got back together or loved or aren’t sure PLEASE come talk to me!!

taglist (send me an ASK to be added - seriously please make it an ask, they’re so much easier to keep track of and i don’t want to miss anyone!) bolded if it didn’t work

@avaastra @pupsandducks @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @5-seconds-of-mendes @imsuperawkward @futuremrspcy @mariamuses @turtoix @fallinallincurls @c25905 @under-a-canyon-moon @havethetimeeofyourlifee @nervousmendes @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson @haute-shawn @mendesficsxbombay

(Please send me an ask if you were on my taglist but i forgot you! i lost a few and think i found them all but not sure!)

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keelywolfe · 3 years

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FIC: Gentle Sins ch.3 (BAON)

Summary: Edge is heading back into work, but since when do his days ever go smoothly?

Tags: Spicyhoney, kustard, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was entirely too soon for him to be returning to work by Edge’s measure. Two days off after a kidnapping was a paltry concession and he would have preferred at least working from home for the rest of the week. The Embassy wasn’t particularly far from New New Home, but depending on traffic and stoplights, it could take nearly half an hour to drive between them, not including the time it took to get to his car.

Time enough for so many things to go wrong and for Stretch to be alone when it did.

But despite his preference, two mornings after he’d brought Stretch home, Edge was pulling into the Embassy parking lot and ignoring the shouts of the protestors on the other side of the street as he walked in, though he didn’t extend his cane until he was inside the front entrance.

The issue at hand was not with his employment. Stretch was the one all but pushing him out their front door and he’d done so with a massive spew of words coupled with wild gestures, all of which boiled down to him not needing a babysitter while he was at home.

Edge didn’t have the soul to argue with him about it, particularly since he was right. There were already enough new violations of his boundaries, and past experience taught that he would start to chafe under them soon enough. Perhaps it was already beginning; exhausted as he was, he’d still slept restlessly the night before and while Stretch often tossed and turned, this time it was enough to disturb Edge’s own sleep, his subconscious crying out that this was not a familiar level of thrashing.

He’d still been in bed when Edge left though not asleep, muttering something about heading down to his lab to check on his experiments. Edge hoped that he did; if he could get absorbed in his own version of mad science, it would be a good distraction for the day, one that was very much needed. Red was supposed to stop by at some point about the bodyguard assignment and while Edge asked his brother to wait for him to get home, there was no telling if he would. If he deemed Edge’s presence unnecessary, Red would do as he liked and to hell with waiting for his brother.

With that in mind, Edge’s plan was to work as swiftly as he could today without sacrificing accuracy so that he could leave on time, perhaps even early, in an effort to thwart anything Red might attempt for his own amusements. But as so often happened, plans had a way of changing and in very unexpected ways.

When he’d arrived at the Embassy that morning, he’d been hyperaware of the stares that followed behind him from the moment he came through the door. From the security guard at his station to the interns to the janitors, eyes and whispers lingered in his wake. Whatever hopes he’d had for discretion about the kidnapping incident were quickly dismissed; it was obviously the talk of the office though no one was bold enough to confront him about it directly. As Red often said, ‘the only way to keep a secret is if ya kill the guy who told ya’ and considering how many witnesses were at the bar that night when Stretch and Jeff were taken, that option was not exactly feasible, if it ever was.

The local news was plastered with stories, some sticking with the one provided by the Embassy and others filled with wild speculations. Monsters were hardly immune to gossip and Stretch often featured on both sides of the rumor equation.

As for his usual partner in crime, Jeff was taking the week off and Antwan with him, and while Edge could appreciate the urge to get back to some form of normalcy, he couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy to think the two of them were probably curled in bed together sleeping while he was fending off the glares of his co-workers.

He deliberately kept his limping pace normal on his way to his office, refusing to give the gossip any further fuel. That worked well enough until he went inside. Janice was already at her desk and she looked up when he entered, her long ears swiveling in his direction and her pink nose twitching as she gave him a narrow look.

He wondered if she was disappointed in him for coming in today. The thought made him want to look away from her direct gaze and he forced himself not to, saying crisply, “Good morning.”

But perhaps he was only projecting his own troubled thoughts because Janice only replied with a certain gentle concern, “Good morning. How is Stretch doing?”

Yes, the gossip traveled quickly, indeed. Edge hesitated, then said with cautious honesty, “He’s doing better.”

She nodded and didn’t press. Absently, she reached out to straighten the picture frame on her desk of her two children. Edge understood the impulse. “If you need anything, either of you, please do let me know.”

“I will,” Edge said. He meant it. Somehow in the past year their relationship had gone from a strictly working one to something akin to friends, a change that came about right around the time he’d married Stretch. Another way his love had changed his life for the better.

Still, it was a relief for her expression to change in a flash from motherly concern to businesslike briskness. “I’ve already emailed your agenda for the day, nothing particularly robust, but you do have a meeting in an hour with Toriel.”

“Toriel.” Edge blinked in surprise. Technically, Toriel didn’t work for the Embassy in a similar way to Stretch. She acted as Frisk’s guardian, and while she certainly handled things she likely shouldn’t at her own discretion, they were the diplomat, not her. What could she want to discuss that she couldn’t have come to their home?

He set his laptop case down and dug out his phone, opening the email app and scrolled to his daily agenda to scan the list. The schedule said only, ‘Meeting with Toriel, 10am’ and gave no clues. “Did she happen to say what it was about?”

Janice shook her head. “I’m afraid not, she only contacted and asked for an appointment. I couldn’t think of a reason not to, so I gave her the first available timeslot.” Her voice uplifted at the end, turning the statement into a question.

“Of course you should,” Edge said, belatedly, “I’m perfectly willing to talk with her. I’m simply confused as to why.”

Janice offered him a faint smile and raised eyebrows. “I suppose in an hour you’ll find out.”

“I suppose I will,” Edge sighed. He picked up his laptop and headed into his office, already considering whether to brave the gauntlet again for a cup of coffee or to relinquish is pride and ask Janice to retrieve one. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for any surprises and a meeting with the former Queen would likely offer them, in spades.

~~*~~

If there was one thing to appreciate about meeting with Toriel, it was her promptness. At precisely 9:59 am Janice buzzed him that she’d arrived.

Edge took a moment to drain the last of the lukewarm coffee from his cup, brought to him by Janice without any prompting from him, further proof of what an excellent assistant she was. He saved the document he was working on before he replied, “Send her in.”

He’d hardly finished speaking when his door opened, Toriel’s bulk filling the entryway. She had to duck her head to fit through the entrance, barely missing bumping her horns on the trim.

“Please, come in,” Edge said. He ignored his cane where it leaned against the side of his chair and instead walked cautiously as he came around it. He gestured to the sofa rather than the chairs at his desk; Toriel was not a small Monster, but his office was designed for visits with everyone, up to and including Asgore himself.

“Thank you,” Toriel said. Her voice was soft enough that it seemed one should strain to hear it, and yet it still carried clearly through the room. She seated herself where he’d indicated, folding her lightly furred hands into her lap.

Edge hadn’t spent a great deal of time with Toriel outside of Embassy functions and the few times he’d traveled along with the diplomats. Even then, he’d kept a cautious distance from her. Despite the small glasses perched on her muzzle, her soft purple dress and motherly cardigan she wore, as a Boss Monster, there was a certain aura of power that she carried that no casual outfit could stifle. Her status might be simply as Frisk’s guardian, but even Humans couldn’t fail to notice it. Adding in that Edge had no basis of comparison with her counterpart in Underfell, put simply, she made him faintly uncomfortable, despite the common interest in puns she shared with several members of his family.

“Would you like a drink?” He barely caught himself before asking if she’d care for tea, already knowing the answer to that. She and Stretch should be closer friends, they could bond over their mutual dislike of the King. “Water? Fruit juice?”

“Water would be lovely,” Toriel said. The words were merely polite, he sincerely doubted she’d come here for refreshments.

From the small fridge in the corner, he retrieved a bottle of water. He set it on a coaster rather than hand it to her and took the seat across from her, folding his hands into his lap in an unconscious mirror of hers. “What can I do for you?” Edge asked.

Without preamble, Toriel said, “You saved my child’s life, and mine.”

That was far from any topic he’d expected she wanted to discuss. If anything, he’d supposed she might wish for more personal information regarding the kidnapping and rather than trusting the gossips, she’d gone to a reliable source. That she might want to talk about their last meeting hadn’t even occurred to him.

The incident in California was not so long ago and yet, despite his lingering scars, the event itself had mostly left his mind. Yes, it was traumatic and yes, he’d certainly be feeling the aftereffects for some time. But it wasn’t his way to linger over such things; it happened, it was over, and now there was only to move onto introducing new safeguards to keep such a thing from happening again.

He considered Toriel’s statement with care before offering cautiously, “Anything I could do to keep you and your child safe, I was willing to offer.”

“I’m sure you were, and are.” Toriel’s eyes were a shade of red unlike his own eye lights. In a way, they were more like Red’s and his way of seeing things deeper than should be possible. “And I am willing to offer my own gift for that kindness. I’ve noticed your leg is still troubling you.”

Edge struggled against shifting uncomfortably, forcing himself not to look down at the leg in question. He was wearing the brace today as he always did in the office, not because he thought he particularly needed it, but due to his suspicions that Janice would discreetly tattle to Stretch if he didn’t. It was a tradeoff for leaving their strictly business relationship behind. “It’s healing, it simply takes time.”

“Indeed,” Toriel inclined her head in agreement. “I’d like to help you, if you’ll allow it. It wouldn’t begin to pay my debt to you but—”

“Your Highness,” Edge interrupted gently, “you don’t owe me anything. I’m well aware that you saved my life after the explosion.”

“I’m no longer the Queen, Toriel is fine,” Her interruption was less gentle and for one who claimed no title, her tone made him want to straighten his spine and come to attention, a habit he’d thought gone along with Underfell. “And your life wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t saved mine.”

“Toriel,” Edge said deliberately, “if you’re offering to heal me, I have a doctor, they’ve done as much with healing magic as they can.”

“I’m sure they have. Which is why I’m offering. My skills are somewhat more…” she hesitated, settling on, “Robust, than other Monsters.”

As a Boss Monster, that was surely true, and Edge couldn’t help considering it.

She’d used her magic on him before, and while that was an emergency, he could hardly protest her doing it again. And what she was offering was gift unlike any other. The opportunity to be healed, to be able to return to his normal activities was tempting to be sure, but what irritated more was his brother keeping him at arm’s-length during the kidnapping. If he’d been more capable, if his leg wasn’t slowing him down, would Red have forced him to stay home instead of allowing him to provide some real assistance? There was no way to tell now, but if he could keep it from happening in the future…?

But Edge also knew that things that seemed too good to be true often were and that there was little in life that came without some sort of price attached. He’d gotten such a gift from the Angel already, if one believed in such things, in the love given to him by Stretch. Asking for more seemed greedy.

Toriel only waited serenely, perhaps understanding his inner turmoil.

“There’s no chance this could have a negative effect,” Edge said slowly. “I’ve made a great deal of progress already, I won't have it set back."

“None at all,” Toriel assured him. “I wouldn’t offer if there was even a chance.” She shifted in her seat, briefly looking away as if his bookcases had suddenly caught her interest. “I would have offered sooner but you must understand, this sort of healing is very draining. If it got out I could do this, Monsters would be lining up at my door, begging for treatment.” She shook her head, her mouth pulling downward unhappily, and suddenly she seemed older and weary. “I can only do as much as I can.”

“I understand.” He did. It was the same reason they’d chosen to keep Monsters’ ability to heal from the Humans. There were limits to the care anyone could provide. Still, his immediate impulse to agree warred with his cautious reluctance. “Then why now?”

“Why not now?” Toriel countered. She spread her empty hands in something like a plea. “I can’t heal every Monster, but what point is it for me to have these gifts if I can’t use them to help someone who was injured by helping me? I owe you a debt, Edge, and I mean to pay it.”

The steel in her voice resonated and the determined need to repay a debt was certainly something he could understand. Edge straightened and inclined his head formally, “I accept your offer.”

A smile lit Toriel’s face and that melancholy fell away as she clapped her hands together like a child rather than the powerful, centuries-old Monster that she was. “Wonderful! Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

“Now?” Edge said, surprised. He’d expected her to need to make some preparations, perhaps arrange for a secret meeting someplace out of the way and not well watched. If there was such a place when one considered his brother.

But Toriel only nodded. “Oh, yes. It won’t take long.”

She rose from the sofa and crouched down next to him. A bit nonplussed, he helped her unbuckle the splint and remove it, and as always, there was a slight, uncomfortable twinge with its support gone. Worse was the awkward intimacy in the way she settled her hands on his leg, even over his trousers, her fingers shifting into precise positions as she closed her eyes and summoned her magic.

Edge had been healed before, too many times to count. Rarely in Underfell, healing there was usually scoffed at and often considered a weakness as it was a difficult skill for those with LV. But in this universe, Stretch, Blue, even Toriel herself had healed him in the past, little wounds mostly, except for California.

He hadn’t been in a position to pay attention the last time she’d used her magic on him, drifting in and out of consciousness, but here there was nothing to distract him. Her magical signature was a deft one, not the brusque force of his brother or familiar honeyed languidness of Stretch or even Blue, who managed to somehow be both forceful and nearly timid at the same time. The greenness of healing came at a delicate trickle at first, seeking and finding the places in his leg that still ached with cunning skill, sinking in. In tiny increments, that trickle became a flood, and then a torrent, and the sensation was indescribable. Not pain, that was far too simple a word, but the deep power that carried healing into his leg and further, seeking out his very essence. Edge shied away instinctively as it sought out his soul, trying to escape that implacable, almost ethereal touch, but it didn’t invade or violate, only swirled briefly through his ribcage in a sort of greeting before returning to the task at hand, or rather, at leg, before it slowly withdrew into empty nothingness.

Edge opened his sockets, hardly aware of closing them, to see Toriel closing her own eyes as she wobbled on her feet, sinking back to sit on the floor with her legs tucked under her and her skirt demurely covering them.

“Your Highness,” Edge said in concern. He reached for her automatically, hesitating before touching her. Even though his gloves he could still feel the aura of roused magic surrounding her.

She opened her eyes. “Toriel,” she corrected with a slight smile, waving his hands away. She retrieved the bottle of water from the table, opening it and taking a long drink, then sighed out, “I’m fine. How are you?”

In answer, Edge stood, striding across the room and back again. The lingering weakness and frustrating ache of the past weeks were entirely gone. The urge to tests his limits was strong and he wondered giddily what anyone would make of it if they caught him racing up and down the stairwell with his coattails flapping behind him.

As if reading his thoughts and perhaps she was to some extent, they wouldn’t be difficult to guess, Toriel cautioned, “I suggest you wear the brace for a little longer. It might keep the curious from asking questions.”

Edge was about to agree, then amended it, “I won’t lie to Stretch. If he asks.”

To his surprise, Toriel let out of a peal of soft laughter and shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. He’ll know the moment he sees you.”

That he hadn’t expected and Edge could only stare at her, aghast, “What?

Her smile turned incredulous. "You have my magic clinging to you, do you truly think he won't notice? Papyrus of all people?"

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that and he wished he'd known before he agreed. Well, it was too late to change anything now, wasn’t it, and that was a meal he’d have to swallow when it came to the table.

Belatedly, he realized Toriel was attempting to climb up from the floor and he hastily leaned down to help. Her weight was easily triple his own but between the two of them, they managed to get her back on her feet.

“Well!” Toriel said with a soft sigh as she dusted off her dress. “I’ll leave you to your duties, then. I need to get back to Frisk, they have a meeting this afternoon with the Prime Minister of Japan, and I wanted to brush up on the agenda.”

“Yes, of course, your—Toriel,” Edge correctly hastily. He couldn’t help flexing his knee again, still giddy with the pain-free movement of the joint. “Thank you, Toriel. This means a great deal to me, past simply healing.” She’d already turned to the door and paused, turning back to him.

There was a certain familiar impishness to her smile as she said, “If you truly wanted to thank me, you could try calling me Tori.”

In answer, Edge only bowed deeply to her and said, sincerely, “I’m afraid the attempt would be too much for me and might undo all the damage you healed. I would hate to be the cause of ruining all your hard work.”

Her soft laughter washed over him in a gentle wave and she shook her head. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we.” Her amused expression shifted to seriousness, “And Edge? Anything I could do to help you, I was willing to offer.”

Edge inclined his head in wry acknowledgement and with a last smile, she went out the door, leaving him alone in his office. Alone with his leg in perfect working condition and itching to be used.

A jog up the stairs might be out of the question, but there was no reason he couldn’t walk down to get another cup of coffee. With the brace on for now, and by next week? Perhaps he could risk going without, at least in the morning, if the stares died down by then. Time would tell.

He sat down to strap the blasted thing back on, its lack of necessity making it all the more annoying.

Soon, he told himself, soon.

Despite the events of the past few days, Edge felt lighter than he had in weeks. He only hoped Stretch’s reaction would be as pleased as his own.

Once the brace was properly on, Edge retrieved his cup from his desk and went down the hallway to the breakroom to fill it, giving Janice’s curious glance a sedate nod and careful to keep his steps slow and measured so as to not rouse any suspicions.

On the leg brace he would concede, an annoying necessity to be sure. But the cane? That, he left behind.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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confusedhost-archive · 4 years

Text

Red Has Always Been My Favorite Color

@kiingz made a post, and the tags said #i do be shipping carmen and roman because of the projection And so, obviously, I had to write something so I can finally make content again. Carmen is @nachosforfree‘s oc for Nico’s sides, as seen here! (I have just learned that technically Ender and Elliot/@iridescentmolars came up with Carmen, but how he looks is in the linked post)

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Summary: Thomas isn’t the only person that falls in love at the mall. But, as a side, dealing with love is a lot harder than it is for humans. So Roman looks for the perfect moment to talk to this crimson cutie. Also called the 4 times Roman saw Carmen and the 1 time he did something about it

Ships: Nico’s creativity (Carmen) and Thomas’ light creativity (Roman), background Intrulogical

Warnings: Swearing, ask to tag!

Ao3

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The first time Roman saw him was across the food court at the mall.

Roman could wax poetry of a faux setting and a romantic mood as much as he liked, but his first sighting of this new special someone was no where near as exciting. The truly exhilarating experience was the one he felt in his chest when the man turned around, adjusted his gold rimmed glasses and gave him a sweet smile.

Roman was lovestruck.

He assumed so, at least, as a rhyme fell from his lips and Thomas turned to stare in confusion. It certainly made sense, he decided, as the man in the pink cardigan tilted his head delicately and whispered something into his host’s ear.

He wanted to be lovestruck, that much he knew. He wanted something like his brother’s, something more than the tug at his heartstrings that he felt every time Thomas fell for a new guy. He wanted love because it felt right.

So he locked eyes with the man in the pink sweater while Thomas tried the same. He wiggled his eyebrows and tried to get a point across as Thomas dropped his head into his hands. He grinned in satisfaction as he got his new crush to laugh, and felt a warmth in his chest grow, a feeling that was beautiful and powerful, and felt much better than the bare scraps of love Thomas’ crushes let him feel.

“Talk to him!” Roman would hum, hoping the interaction would get him closer.

“Just walk up!” He huffed as Virgil pushed Thomas away.

And perhaps it was selfish, to want Thomas to spend time with someone just because of the pretty boy that came with him, but Roman felt something so pretty bubble up in him when the side so much as glanced his way, and he thought that maybe - maybe - he’d let himself be selfish this one time.

Then Thomas went to the washroom and stared at himself and talked and spoke from his heart and everything Roman and Virgil has asked him to do and Roman felt something else, so unlike the feeling he’d become used to, build up in his chest that hurt so, so, so much more than it should’ve, and he wondered if he was doing something wrong.

A man came out of the washroom stall, and Thomas lied, and Roman felt the lump in his throat grow.

Virgil got upset, and Thomas was rude, and Roman felt his eyes prick with tears.

Thomas’ crush - Nico, they learned - was alone now. No handsome man in gold rimmed library glasses and a pink sweater and a sun stitched onto his breast.

Thomas and Nico sat down to talk, and Roman felt his heart sing with Thomas’ love.

It was far more dull of a song than he remembered.

The second time Roman saw Pretty Pink was when Thomas and Nico went on their first proper date. It was a simple date, only a walk along a trail in the cold afternoon. It was fall now (Or “Halloween: The month,” as Virgil had dubbed it), and the leaves were slowly changing color, giving a lovely new look to the trail’s normally green and brown theme.

“It’s prettier now,” Logan said, curled up on the side of the couch, a heavy blanket tossed over him.

Roman nodded from the kitchen as Virgil made a noise of vague agreement from his spot lying face down on the other half of the sofa.

Roman brought himself over to the living room, mug of hot chocolate warming his hands, and kicked Virgil’s thigh lightly.

“Move,” he hummed, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a loud, if not impatient sounding sip (Virgil likely wasn’t paying much attention, so it likely hadn’t gotten across, but it was the thought that counted).

Virgil turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Sit,” he said, getting a bit more comfortable. “I really need the weight.”

Roman shrugged and plopped himself down onto Virgil’s lower back and crisscrossed his legs.

He looked at the tv screen, with it’s wonderful view of the beautiful trees and Thomas’ very focused view of Nico and his red face (Roman liked to think it was because Thomas had made him blush with a smooth line, but his whole was a terrible flirt, so it was far more likely to be from the cold).

Something danced just out of Thomas’ vision though, and Roman furrowed his brows and took a quick sip of his hot chocolate-

-and nearly spit it out when Rainbows and Sunshine stepped into frame. He looked exactly the same as he did last time Roman saw him, except this time he was closer, and as such, prettier, and making it a lot harder to choke down his drink then it could’ve been.

Roman held his mug up with one hand, hoping to keep any of it’s contents from spilling out, and pressed his other fist to his mouth, coughing heavily into it. His throat burned, and he grimaced, rubbing it carefully.

“Holy shit, Roman,” Virgil said, trying to look back at him. “Are you good?”

Roman shrugged, forcing up another cough in hopes of it clearing his airway. “It’s nothing, really, I’m just- surprised.”

Both Logan and Virgil stared at him for an awkward moment, before looking at each other and sharing a silent conversation. Roman looked very deliberately at the screen (and maybe also at the pretty guy walking with Thomas and Nico, although if his eyes happened to catch, that wasn’t on him) rather than his two fellow sides.

“Surprised,” Logan said dryly, his mouth quirking up into a smirk as he looked over at the tv and the two very similar looking men on it.

“Yeah,” Roman squeaked, sounding far less confident in himself as he saw Virgil glance at the tv, Logan, and him in slowly dawning realization.

“You have a crush,” Virgil breathed, looking extremely excited for some (hopefully not blackmail related) reason.

Roman looked at the inside of his mug rather than at his friends and hummed a noncommittal sound. All it took was one glance up at the tv screen while Pretty Pink looked Thomas in the eyes, and Roman buried his face in his free hand in hopes of covering his blush.

He wasn’t sure it was working.

Logan grinned. “Oh, I can’t wait till your brother gets back, he’s going to love this.”

Virgil rolled himself out from under Roman, falling off the couch in the process. “Hey, I don’t mean to like, be a jerk or anything, but I think this is really cute and as your best friend-“ Roman made a quiet sound of mild disagreement. “-It’s my job to make fun of you for this.” Roman made another, far louder and offended, sound of disagreement.

Roman shook his head. “There is totally something a problem with this relationship, and I don’t know what it is, but Logan is going to tell me and it’s going to make it so that you do not get to make fun of me.”

Logan snorted. “Absolutely not, this is your crush, and as little as I want to get involved with your love life, I think you should go for it.” He grinned down at the green stone that hung from his necklace. “It’s what got your brother and I together, so I’m certainly going to give the advice I can to you.”

Roman made a whining noise and Virgil hummed sympathetically.

“It really sucks to suck man,” he said comfortingly, though the words weren’t as kind as Roman thought they could’ve been. Virgil looked over towards the front door with a grin. “I do really enjoy the thought of you just going outside and saying something real quick, but you’re very nervous right now, it’s cold outside, and I’m starting to think you’re ceasing to function.”

Virgil was right, because of course he was. Roman glancing at the tv every three seconds to look at Nico’s side was turning his brain to lovestruck mush. And with mush for brains, Roman’s supposedly carefully crafted defense was a weak, “He’s very pretty.”

Virgil snorted. “Okay, lovebird, I think that’s enough of Thomas’ date for you. Next time I see that guy, I’m shoving your ass out the front door to greet him though, got it?”

Roman sighed as the tv clicked off, but shrugged none the less. “I’m not going out there without a fight, I hope you know.”

Both Logan and Virgil laughed, the latter elbowing Roman in the side. “I know! It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

The third time Roman saw his crush was when he was with Patton.

Padre was trying (and failing) to make cookies, often misreading the instructions and adding too much of something.

The tv was on in the living room, showing Nico and Janus sitting on the edge of Thomas’ bed as the man himself recited his lines for the new play.

Part of Roman wanted to be out there, but he and Janus were in a bit of a fight, one that neither of them were interested in apologizing for. At some point they’d settled on a switching schedule, changing who got to be Thomas’ critic every time he practiced (Roman was quite sure they’d gotten to a point where neither him nor Janus would actually be upset with the other should they work together, but it would be awkward, and he didn’t much feel like dealing with that).

Roman grinned as Patton managed to spray batter in his face, slipping off the counter to try and help wipe a droplet off his face. “Take a break, padre, I don’t know if the kitchen can take any more of this,” Roman laughed.

Patton frowned at the flower and sugar scattered across the counter and his arms. “This is true. I do really want cookies though.” He turned to look at Roman as he snapped his fingers to get rid of the mess. “Can you summon some? The ones you summon always taste great .”

Roman put a hand to his chest. “How kind of you!” He brought his other hand up as a tray materialized on it and bowed down to reveal the perfectly crisped cookies to Patton.

Patton giggled and took one of the still warm snacks, taking a bite and giving Roman a thumbs up. “It’s awesome!”

Roman smiled in return. “Now, let’s eat these on the couch and see what mistakes we can catch Thomas make.” Patton nodded enthusiastically, though Roman was pretty sure it was at the prospect of eating cookies in the warmth of the couch.

“Actually,” Roman handed the tray to Patton, “Go sit on the couch, and I’ll make coffee.” As the fatherly side dropped onto the couch and began creating a nest for himself Roman called to him, “Oh! Tell me if anything interesting comes up!”

Patton only just finished touching up his area when he stared at the screen, confused, and hummed, “Roman, something interesting just popped up.”

Roman rolled the phrase through his mind, wondering if there was a pun hidden inside, and glanced at the tv screen, took a double take, and squealed.

He was there. He was there. He was there.

It was his nameless crush, sitting beside his whole and watching Thomas fumble over his words. Amusement shone in his eyes, and he leaned over to whisper something to Nico, making the human stand up and ask Thomas for the script.

Janus looked over at the other side, tilting his head to examine him.

Roman and Patton, on the other side of the tv screen, were in chaos. Roman was avoiding looking at anything but the coffee, blush deepening every second that passed. Patton was staring at the tv, mouth running a mile a minute.

“Is that-? Roman is that the guy Virgil was telling me about? Is that the guy you have a crush on? Am I supposed to push you out the door? Virgil told me that was what he was going to do but I don’t really want to. Should you go out and talk to him? Wait actually, for sure, for sure, that’s your crush-?”

Roman buried his face in his hands as Nico grinned and told Thomas he would read the other character’s lines. “Patton,” the princely side groaned, “I’m this close to combusting.” He held up a hand and held his fingers so they almost touched.

Patton blinked, then covered his mouth. “Oops!” He gasped through his hands.

Roman waved him off. “It’s whatever, but I’d much rather watch Thomas’ mediocre acting skills then discuss this with you.”

“Don’t you mean watch your new cru -“

“Patton!”

Patton giggled, leaning back into the couch and stuffing a cookie in his mouth. There was a moment of silence, just long enough to make it feel awkward, and Patton turned to Roman and opened his mouth.

Janus, on the tv, cut him off.

“Who are you?”

Both Patton and Roman snapped to attention as the other side blinked in surprise. “Oh, me? My name’s Carmen! I’m Nico’s creativity.”

Roman bounced, excitement running through his veins as Janus held his hand out. “My name is Janus. I’m Thomas’ deceit.”

Carmen smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Janus!”

“Absolutely dreadful to meet you too,” Janus hummed, letting Carmen sort out the sarcasm.

Carmen paused, and Roman and Patton exchanged disappointed glances. Roman couldn’t help but flap his hands when his crush spoke next. “Do you know of a side wearing all white with a red sash?”

Janus carefully didn’t react, but his lips tilted up and he leaned back. “Oh? Are you looking for Roman?”

Carmen nodded. “I want to talk to him.” A hand came up to play with the chain on his glasses. “He looks like a fun person to be around, you know?”

“He’s certainly exuberant,” Janus agreed. “Do you want me to tell him something for you?”

Carmen looked down at his hands for a moment, contemplative. “No, no I don’t think so. I just want to talk, face to face.” His eyes flickered up to where Thomas and Nico were giggling, faces close. “Thank you for the offer though, Janus.”

Janus didn’t respond, looking at Carmen carefully. After a pause, he narrowed his eyes in almost suspicion, but said nothing, only relaxing in his spot.

“Have a good day, Carmen,” Janus said, standing up swiftly. “I highly doubt Thomas will be doing any proper acting anymore.” He walked over to the door and lay a hand on the doorknob, pausing. “I’ll make sure Roman comes out next time he sees you out here.”

Carmen smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Janus tipped his hat and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He turned around, freezing when he saw Patton and Roman’s eyes on him. There was a minute of awkward silence before Janus marched toward the stairs. “You better have heard that, Roman.”

Roman blinked. “Was- Did you do that for me?”

Janus snorted. “Of course not, Roman, I’m definitely the type for small talk with some random side.”

Janus made his way up the stairs and out of view, and Roman recognized his attempt at an apology. It wasn’t a sorry, but it was Janus trying to reconcile. The least Roman could do in return was meet Carmen next time he saw him.

That next time ended up being about a week later, when Roman was laughing with his brother and Logan. They were in the living room, the tv turned on for background noise and a nest of pillows strewn about the floor for Roman’s comfort.

“Remus!” Roman snorted, attempting to pull yet another pillow from the mustached menace’s hands. “Remus, give me the pillow!”

Remus gave a sharp tug, sending Roman tumbling face first into the couch. “No,” he said, grinning.

Logan pulled his boyfriend closer to him, angling in for a kiss, and stealing the pillow when Remus went soft.

Roman cackled at his brother’s pout. “You know what?” He asked, falling back into his pile of fluff. “I’m gonna let Logan have it.”

Remus gasped in mock hurt, even as his mouth twitched up into a smile. “How could you? First my brother! Then my boyfriend! And then my brother again!”

Roman rolled over onto his stomach to look at the tv. “Sucks to be you I guess,” he sang.

Remus leaned back, crossing his arms. “It does suck to be me,” he whined.

Logan pulled his boyfriend close, cuddling into him. “The pillow was a trap to get you to cuddle me,” he hummed into Remus’s chest.

Remus grinned. “Well then! Consider me trapped!”

There was a pause as Remus and Logan curled into each other, and Roman inspected the tv. He watched Nico as he leaned over the desk, pencil scratching.

He wondered if Carmen would come out soon.

“Hey, guys,” Roman hummed, eyes still on the screen. “What did you do when you found out you liked each other?”

Logan shifted to look at him. “We talked it out. Why?”

Remus laughed. “You kissed me and then said that you’d wanted to do that for a year. My response was ‘same.’ That’s not talking it out.”

Roman turned to look back at the two. “I feel like despite the fact that you’re the only couple I can ask, you’re the exact wrong people to talk to.”

Logan sighed. “I think you might be right. We’re disasters.”

Remus nodded. “Hell yeah, but,” he turned to look at his brother. “Why do you ask?”

Logan looked Roman over for a second before shooting up with a gasp. “I didn’t tell you about Roman’s crush yet!”

The twins froze simultaneously.

Remus tackled his brother with a shout, finding himself sitting cross-legged on the other side’s back. “You didn’t tell me about your crush? ” He huffed, flicking his brother between the eyes. “That’s illegal.”

Roman shrugged, glaring at Logan. “Be gay, do crime, right?”

Logan smiled. “Remus, come here, let me hug you, and we’re going to talk about Roman’s crush.”

Roman whined loudly as Remus settled himself in Logan’s arms. “You guys better not make fun of me,” he said, looking back at the tv.

“Don’t worry,” Remus sang, “We will!”

Logan sat his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, a laugh rumbling from his throat. “So first, you need to know is that it’s not any of us.”

Remus nodded, looking confused, but patting Logan’s leg. “That’s fair, the hottest side is already taken.”

Logan grinned. “Not a celebrity crush either!”

Remus tilted his head, brows furrowed. “Wait, not a celeb crush?”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “Are you dragging this out on purpose or are you torturing me on accident?”

Logan huffed. “Come on, let me have this.” He waited a beat. “Anyway, it’s one of Nico’s sides. The creative one, I think.”

Remus blinked. “Wait, you’ve seen Nico’s sides?” He stared at the tv, eyes narrowed. “Is it him?”

Roman turned around, eyes falling onto Carmen, sitting on the counter of Thomas’ kitchen, watching whatever Thomas and Nico had put on the tv to cuddle to. A strangled noise escaped his throat and he buried his face into his knees.

“Oh-“ Remus said, surprised. “He’s, like- gay.”

Logan snorted. “He’s never even met him properly.”

Roman groaned, flipping off the boyfriends. “I don’t want to yet.” Far more muffled: “I’m scared.”

Remus frowned, reaching an arm up as if to put it on his brother’s shoulder. He stole it back after a moment of hesitation.

“Hey, Ro-bro,” Remus tried, “You wanna hear a story?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Okay, so there were these two guys who were really fucking gay for each other but they didn’t talk too much. Why? Because they were dumb.”

Logan made a noise of disagreement.

“Because the system was rigged so they couldn’t see each other often,” Remus amended. “So at one point, when they had the chance, they decided to have a talk. Nothing bad, nothing good, just spending time with each other. It was whatever they wanted.”

Logan squeezed his boyfriend tight, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck. “It wasn’t big, it wasn’t really special, or anything like that, but...” Logan paused. “They knew where they stood with each other. It was the first step in their relationship and it meant that they could do everything else, could escalate to more. It was because they did that one talk first.” He sighed, a hand coming up to play with a lock of Remus’ hair. “Everything we are right now, it’s because of a talk , Roman. It’s important that you can communicate with him comfortably, because you need it.” He brought his hand down to clasp with his boyfriend’s. “You need to talk to him, Roman. Please.”

Roman looked up at them, close physically and emotionally and tried to imagine himself in their place. With Carmen wrapped around him and their clasped hands and just knowing, without a doubt, that they loved each other. That they trusted each other, that they cared.

He found, with a jolt of surprise, that he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because they were right . He needed to take a first step, a step outside his comfort zone (and hopefully into Carmen’s arms). He needed to talk to him.

“Hey guys?” Roman looked up at his friends, eyes shining with hope. “Thank you. I’m gonna talk to him.”

Remus grinned, squeezing Logan’s hand. “Go get him Ro!” He squealed, leaning into his boyfriend.

Logan, from behind him, nodded at Roman. “Have fun,” he said, a soft smile gracing his face.

Roman walked out the front door, listening as Logan and Remus joked to each other behind him.

“Oh wow, they just- they grow up so fast-“

“Yes, your brother is certainly growing a pair.”

Roman closed the door behind him, smiling. He knew they were proud of him. Now he just wanted to do something to earn that pride.

The fifth time Roman saw Carmen, he was star struck. Seeing him through a tv screen or from across a cafeteria was so different from now, only feet apart, with nothing but empty air between them. Carmen, here, now, in the dark of the 9:00 night, glowed. His hair seemed to emit it’s own light, a soft pink casting shadows around the room.

He turned to look at Roman and the princely side’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes, a deep, beautiful, chocolate brown before, were bright, sparkling like cider, and looked like a million different colors reflecting off of each other. Rimmed with gold glasses, he made Roman think of copper - under appreciated but so, so, pretty.

Roman smiled softly, walking forward until he stood in front of Carmen. He pat the spot next to him. “May I sit here?”

Carmen nodded, lips pulling into a smile, freckles shifting, reflecting their own light. There was a moment of silence, and then Carmen spoke. “You’re glowing.” When Roman looked over, Carmen flushed, looking down at his hands. “I know it sounds weird but-“ he snuck a hand over to grasp at Roman’s in a light grip. When Roman made no move to stop him, he pulled their interlocked hands up, Roman noticing the soft trails of pink that followed Carmen’s fingertips. “You shine.” Roman realized after a moment that Carmen seemed to think that it was him who was glowing. Perhaps he was right.

Roman let out a quiet laugh, whispering, “Bright like a diamond!”

He took Carmen’s hand carefully, bringing it down to look at the glitter painted nails. “You’re glowing too, you know?” His eyes were drawn back to the light in his hair. “The tips of your hair, your freckles, your eyes...” he trailed off, a warmth in his chest growing.

Carmen smiled. “You’re a bit of a poet, aren’t you?”

Roman leaned forward, embarrassed. “Sometimes, if I have a sort of muse.”

Carmen sat there for a moment, processing Roman’s words before letting out a squeak. “You-!” He curled into himself, falling into a fit of giggles.

Roman smiled at Carmen’s flustered state before tilting his head with a small frown. “I just realized something, you know.” Carmen paused, looking over. “I’ve never properly introduced myself.”

Roman stood up and took one of Carmen’s hands in his own, bowing down to touch Carmen’s hand to his lips. “It’s wonderful to meet you, my good sir, and it would be my greatest wish fulfilled if you could tell me your name.”

Roman knew his name already, of course, thanks to Janus, but he wanted to hear it here, now, spoken to him for the first time. “My name is Carmen,” he hummed, pulling his hand, interlaced with Roman’s, to his chest. “Now, my prince, would you be willing to tell me yours?”

“Roman,” the side said quietly, distracted by their sudden closeness.

There was a moment of silence, before Carmen’s face split into a grin. “Oh my gosh, that was just like out of a Disney movie-“ he giggled pulling Roman an inch closer.

Roman gasped. “You like Disney movies?” He grinned, a squeal building in his throat, and the former tension disappeared, swapping for bright eyed excitement.

Carmen clapped his hands together, laughing. “Of course! What’s your favorite? Mine is probably Finding Dory, but only because Nico has been watching it a lot lately.”

Roman flapped his hands in excitement, mouth opening and spilling out everything he knew about the four movies he thought might’ve been his favorite in that moment.

When Carmen’s eyes shone with interest rather than boredom, Roman thought he could tell him he loved him, just like that. He didn’t though, preferring this easy talk about whatever they wanted to anything that might have happened should he say something wrong like that.

They talked for hours, their excitement never dulling, conversation only stopping when Nico leaned up to kiss Thomas with a quiet, “It’s late, I should go.”

There was no kiss, no confession, not there and not then. They’d only just properly met, after all. But it was love, and they both knew it.

It was going somewhere, because they’d taken that first step.

#Roman sanders #Nico Flores #Writing #Logan sanders #Virgil sanders #Intrulogical #Patton sanders #Sanders sides #4+1 #Remus sanders #janus sanders #God I'm so sorry this took so long #swearing

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justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years

Text

another fic based in the magic misfits au compiled by @haworthiaace! this time: somebody pranks impulse by hiding catnip in his base, and zed recruits scar to take care of him.

featuring: demons are oversized cats, just a lot of fluff, impulse is full of love for his friends, for once team zit have a crisis that isn’t world ending, zed is a good(ish) impulse sitter, no real plot, only shenanigans.

warnings: unintended drug use, drugged character, it’s not anything serious he’s just a big cat on catnip lmao.

[Zedaph] Okay. We have no judgement when we ask this

[Tango] which one of you nerds gave Imp catnip?

[Tango] speak now or I will force it out of you.

[Stressmonster101] oh! was wonderin where me patch went

[Stressmonster101] got no answers tho, sorry boys :(

[Xisuma] catnip isn't harmful to demons, right?

[Zedaph] No...

[Tango] he's high, X

[Tango] like a cat.

[Xisuma] ah

[Xisuma] well, if you're handling it

[Zedaph] That's one way to put it.

"Scar!" Scar jumps up. He barely catches a glance of black and yellow before there are arms around his waist. With a strangled noise, he nearly falls backwards. Thankfully, whatever is clinging to him keeps him upright. Although Scar has to hold his hat on, his other arm trapped in the grip.

"Scar, oh!" Scar's panicked mind manages to recognise that voice. Zedaph. Something behind him is beginning to nudge into his hair, accompanied by happy little humming noises. "I'm so sorry. Impulse, come here-"

The pressure releases him. Scar's able to turn and find Impulse and Zed standing there. Zedaph has his arm wrapped around Impulse's, offering a nervous smile. Whilst Impulse... Impulse is currently flicking at one of Zed's ears with a bright smile and wide eyes filled with wonder. Scar frowns when he sees thin, reddened lines across the skin. Zedaph doesn't flinch at the scratches, holding onto Impulse and looking apologetic.

"Sorry, Scar, I lost hold of him." Impulse hums at Zed’s words as he bats his ear again, grinning as it bounces. Zedaph finally sighs, spinning Impulse around and picking him up into a piggyback. Impulse makes a sound suspiciously like a purr, melting into Zedaph's hair.

"Do you, uh, need help with that?" Scar asks, gesturing his hand between them both.

Zed gasps, "Yes! That's why I came, wasn't it? Yeah!" He nods to himself. "Tango's looking for where the catnip is, so he thought I could bring Impulse here for now. We have no idea how long he'll be like this, so..." Impulse makes another low hum. Scar is pretty sure that's purring. He's nudging into Zedaph's hair now, horns mussing it up further. Zedaph's lucky those points aren't stabbing him.

"Of course." Scar chuckles, shaking his head at the pair. Compared to the trio's usual problems, this seems tame. No interdimensional crisis, nothing that needs his spellbook or crystals. He can manage this. "Come on, then, let's get this demonic kitty somewhere to calm down."

They’ve only managed a few steps when Impulse sees a leaf floating in the air, leaping off Zedaph's back and sprinting after it. Zedaph groans, running after him with a call of his name. Scar stands in shock until his brain catches up and he's able to follow. Thankfully, Impulse doesn't get far. He holds up the leaf with a massive grin, bouncing on the spot.

"I caught it!" He declares, with such a proud look it kinda melts Scar's heart. Zedaph sighs, pushing his fringe back from his face.

"Yeah, yeah you did, buddy." He holds his hand out and Impulse takes it eagerly. "Now, we're following Scar, okay? Keep your eyes on him." Impulse turns to Scar, smiling and bouncing over to him instead. Scar follows Zedaph’s lead and is surprised by how rough Impulse's skin is when his hand slips in his.

"Scar! Scar, man." Scar keeps Impulse moving whilst he rambles. He nearly laughs when he notices how blown out his pupils are - almost entirely black, only small slits of the usual bright yellow visible. "Has anybody told you how good you are at building? Like, man, your stuff is so pretty. I wanna landscape like you. The stuff you've done this season, so genius-"

Zedaph must spot Scar's terrified look, because he giggles, "You get used to it." Impulse is still rambling whilst he talks. Scar didn't know there were this many compliments to give him. He has no idea what to say in response, not that Impulse notices.

By the time they get back to Scar's village, he could cook something on his cheeks. Zedaph's cheeky smiles aren't helping. Impulse is holding Scar’s hand in both of his, turning out compliment after compliment like a broken dispenser. The only time he paused was because he got distracted by a butterfly over Scar's shoulder. And now. Impulse gasps, eyes going cartoonishly wide.

"Are those tiny mushrooms?" He turns that amazed stare onto Scar.

"I swear you've seen those before, Imp." Zedaph rolls his eyes, reaching over to ruffle Impulse's hair. He leans back into the touch to the point he nearly falls over. Scar keeps him up with his free hand.

"They're so little," Impulse whispers, voice filled with childish awe.

"I can show you how I made them later, how about that?" Scar offers. Impulse's entire body perks up, bouncing on his toes. Scar’s relieved he isn’t supporting his entire bodyweight anymore.

"You would? Really?"

"Yeah, of course I can! Anything for my favourite demonic friend." Impulse turns to Zedaph.

"Did you hear that? He'll show me how to make them!" Zedaph nods, his face encouraging. "We don't deserve you, Scar. You're so great." Scar nods, gently sighing as Impulse swings his hand. He gestures to the house, and Zedaph skips ahead to open the door for them.

"How long has it been, now?" Scar asks. He tugs Impulse inside, ushering him to the comfortable, if worn, sofa. Impulse sees it and flops straight onto his back, sinking into the cushions.

"Twenty minutes, maybe?" Zedaph says, resting his finger on his chin. "Maybe closer to thirty now." Scar hums. All of these houses are cosy, but he thinks this will be perfect for Impulse. Wooden floor and walls, a red sofa that's ideal for curling up on and a carpet strewn out on the floor. There's an armchair next to a cluttered coffee table, which Scar plops himself in. Zedaph shoves at Impulse until he shuffles over and gives Zed room. Then he quickly settles his head into Zed's lap.

The moment Zedaph has a hand in Impulse's hair, the demon continues purring. He stretches out, his face soft as he nudges up into Zedaph's fingers. Scar finally relaxes, sinking back into the armchair. The sunlight shines through the door, catching on floating dust in the air. Scar really needs to clean these houses out. Most of them are just storage by this point.

"Do you think it'll wear off soon?" He asks. Impulse is staring at Zedaph's face. Scar's surprised how catlike he's acting. Impulse usually seems pretty down to earth, willing to help out, if a bit anxious. Scar imagines he has to be, dealing with Zedaph and Tango, even if it’s not what he expects of a demon. The three of them cause an impressive amount of problems. Scar would think they'd be more careful with their situation. They’re not. Evidently.

"I don't know," Zed whines. Impulse tilts his head so Zedaph scratches a specific spot. "At least he's calm now. I'm not fit enough to run around after him."

"You were doing a good job of it earlier," Scar teases. Zedaph gives him a look.

"When he nearly fell into a ravine, got halfway into a cave system, jumped onto you, or chased after a leaf?"

Scar laughs, "All of the above, obviously." Zedaph smiles, leaning his head to the side so he can reach the back cushion. His ear sticks out at an angle.

They both sit and chat idly. Impulse is distracted enough with the head pats. His movements are lazy and languid, pushing his feet against the arm of the sofa. Zed's communicator beeping interrupts a conversation about Scar's latest research. The elf pats his cardigan until he finds the device, holding it up above his head to read.

"Tango found the catnip!" He declares. His finger taps the communicator haphazardly as it wobbles in his hand.

"Impulse can return to his base safely," Scar agrees with a smile. Zed hums, rubbing his other hand up and down Impulse's horns.

"Thanks for letting us hang with you." Zed's smile is so friendly, and Scar can tell he means it. As many problems as they cause, the three of them more than make up for it. Scar has shulker boxes full of gifts and resources from them. They're good friends to have and he's more than happy to help them. "Hopefully we'll figure out who decided this was a good prank."

"My diamonds are on Grian," Scar offers. Zed lets out a dramatic sigh.

"So's mine. Grian or Etho." The two are interrupted by a knock at the door. Tango pokes his head around, redstone eyes sparkling in the light of the lanterns and the sun outside. It highlights the loose wisps of hair that fall from his bandana.

"Everything been okay here?" Tango asks. Impulse's eyes open, a lazy smile emerging.

"Tangy, Tango," Impulse reaches his arms out, grabbing towards him. Zedaph puffs out a breath as Impulse rolls in his lap, a horn jabbing his stomach. Tango laughs, striding over and plucking Impulse into his arms. Impulse shuffles around, curling against Tango's chest with a content noise. Zedaph gently adjusts Impulse's horn so it's no longer stabbing Tango's vest.

"Thanks for helping out, Scar." Tango gives him a tired smile. Impulse reaches to one of Tango's pockets. He unbuttons and buttons it distractedly.

"It's not a problem!" Scar holds his hand up. "He's pretty cute like this, if I do say so myself." Zedaph giggles, pressed up against Tango's side. He tries to fix his hair but it's a lost cause, blond fringe falling in his eyes.

"At least he's taking a break, I guess," Tango agrees, looking at the demon in his arms.

"I take breaks," Impulse replies, sounding as pouty as he looks. Squinted as they are, his eyes are entirely black.

"Mmhm. 'Course you do." Tango just smiles at the sight. Zedaph tugs at Tango's arm.

"Come on, let's get him home!" He exclaims with that same bright look. Scar smiles at the trio.

"Hey, maybe next time, try some milk?" He suggests. The look on Tango and Zedaph's faces is worth it. Their surprise quickly morphs into embarrassment. Zedaph makes a breathy giggle, hiding behind his hand.

"We'll... Yeah, we're not smart enough for that, are we?" Tango admits, raising his shoulders. Scar laughs, waving at them.

"See you next time you have a problem!" He teases. Zedaph quickly jumps over to give Scar a hug.

"Thanks again!" He tells him. Scar leans back as the three leave, settling into the cushions. He sighs, smiling and closing his eyes. That was certainly a welcome distraction.

#hermitcraft #zedaph #goodtimeswithscar #tangotek #impulsesv #tango tek #my writing #magic misfits au #pats impulse's head #you can fit so much love for his friends in this good boy #for the record: jevin did it

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andromedarune · 4 years

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[Vampire!Leon/Witch!Reader] “A Night of Tricks and Treats” (Halloween Fic~!)

A/N: HAHA, I did it! It’s later than I wanted to post this, but it’s here! So enjoy the story that y’all voted for: A Vampire!Leon AU, with cute/fun elements, and a black dahlia thrown into the mix (along with other creative liberties). Thanks to everyone who voted on that poll - this one’s for you!

Vampire!Leon x Witch!Reader - “A Night of Tricks and Treats”

Word Count: ~3k

Rating: Teen (mild blood, reference to death, adult language, spooky stuff)

The third set of feverish knocks on your front door pulled a frustrated groan from your lips. You were finally drifting off to sleep when some rando decided to assault your door at some ungodly time in the night (or morning, since you checked your phone to see that it was a quarter past three). Pouted lips set on your face, you groggily slip out of bed, hardly bothering to grab the cardigan that you kept slung over your desk chair. Another fit of knocks was just starting up when you threw open the door, ready to say a few choice words to your unfortunate visitor.

But unfortunately for you, this wasn’t just any visitor.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Leon gave a cheery smile, oblivious as ever.

Ah. Maybe you should have put on some better clothes. But you’re already this far in - you decide to just play along like nothing’s wrong. Knowing him, you’d at least have a couple of minutes before the awkward sets in.

“Uh, yeah… You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?”

Leon shrugged.

“I’m aware, but it’s so much easier getting here at night. You have no idea how annoying paparazzi can be…” You sink in your hip a bit, watching his eyes flit down past your head for the briefest of moments. He tries to meet your gaze again, but the awkward smile twitching with some odd emotion that settled onto his face cues you in that he most definitely noticed.

The weather’s been oddly warm despite it already being autumn, so you were still wearing your summer pajamas. Which, of course, were a simple set of purple Wooloo PJs. Short-shorts that were baggy and comfy, a tank top that was equally baggy and comfy. Nothing scandalous, but definitely more revealing than what you normally wear.

You can practically hear the dial-up sounds going on in Leon’s mind as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, one hand tangling itself around a strand of that obnoxiously long purple hair, him just desperate to find something to distract himself with. It’s kind of fun to watch, actually.

“Did you need something?” you eventually sigh, crossing your arms over your chest as a hint of self-consciousness rumbles through your gut.

“A-ah, right!” he snaps out of it and lifts up his arm. Carefully pulling back the sleeve of his casual red hoodie, he reveals to you his forearm. A large, dark-colored burn covers most of the arm, even reaching down to his fingertips. You can’t help but wince, leaning forward for a closer look. “I, um, could use some of your help with this, if you don’t mind.”

“Again, really, Leon?” you can’t help but scold him a bit. He laughs, anyways. “This is the third time this month - one of these days there’s not gonna be much of you left to heal.”

He mutters a soft apology, but you’re still playing like you’re irritated with him and spin around into your living room. You don’t make it far before you realize that Leon’s still standing just before the threshold.

“Oh, right - you can come in.”

“Thanks,” Leon sighs in relief, still holding his arm with a smile.

Just like always, you guide him through your house, leading the significantly taller man down the halls towards a dark down just at the opposite end of your little cottage house. Expertly, you unlock the mystical mechanism that you yourself created (probably seven or eight years ago now? Man, how time flies) to reveal the ominous, shadowy basement. The two of you descend down the steps; you pass by a set of candles and light them with a snap of the fingers, a sight that surely puts stars in Leon’s eyes. He’s always been a sucker for parlor tricks like that.

Leon waddles over to the simple wooden chair you have waiting near the center of the room, taking a seat to watch as you tugged on your long black cloak (the one you made a habit to keep hanging down here for these very instances) and began pulling out various ingredients from one of the numerous cabinets that lined the upper walls of the room.

“Wish you’d just commit to being nocturnal, already,” you couldn’t help but sigh, checking the date you had written on the little jar of beeswax you were inspecting. “If you keep getting injured like this, your healing abilities might become permanently disabled.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m still champion,” he laughed, seeming more amused by your reaction than anything. “I can’t just step down for no reason.”

“Sure you can.” You climbed up onto a lower shelf to dig further into a cabinet. You left that jar of chamomile here somewhere. “Gym leaders do it all the time.”

“It’s different for champions. We’re the best of the best, the image of the ideal trainer for our region. Galar isn’t known for giving up, so that’s not an option I’m willing to consider.”

You almost settle for the bag of rosemary, only to quickly set it back in the cabinet. That would be bad, using rosemary on Leon. You were trying to heal him, here, not destroy the guy. You decide to check another cabinet.

“I know, I know, Mr. Unbeatable Champion. I’m just saying that it hasn’t even been a year since you’ve turned and now I’ve basically become your primary medical provider. And you don’t even pay me!”

“I pay you!” He whines a bit before pausing, no doubt trying to think of instances of proper “payment”. “I, um… Well, I’ll pay you back this time!”

You finally find the chamomile, and even stumble upon that jar of honey you were looking for earlier today (of course, they were both behind the several jars of cinnamon sticks). So you throw the man a perked eyebrow while walking over to your giant black cauldron, which rested within a rustic brick fireplace.

“Oh yeah? What have you, Good Sir Champion, have to offer to the likes of me?”

“Name your price and I’ll double it.”

You snicker, lighting the fire with a clap of the hands rather than snapping. You can barely catch Leon’s amazed smile from this far away. How is any of that exciting for someone like you, you can help but wonder. Champion, genuinely cool guy, recently-turned vampire… still gets amused at basic baby magic. Same ol’ Lee.

“Hm, that’s a bold offer, young man,” you muse, adding a dramatic raspiness that makes you sound like some aged witch from a shitty Blockbuster horror film. “A wise man would think twice before dealing with a witch~.”

“Please,” he snickered, “you still call me to catch baby Joltiks that wander into your house. Don’t even try.”

A playfully sour look from you spurs a booming fit of laughter from your old friend. You hide your smile by turning away, focusing more on getting some dandelions to add to the mix. A small bag of garlic slumps over in the cabinet, so of course you grab it and reveal it to the man. He instinctively leans back a bit, a nervous grin settling onto his face.

“Hey, maybe this’ll add some extra zing to your salve, huh?”

“Uh, n-no thanks…”

“That’s what I thought,” you cackle, tossing the garlic away. Thoroughly satisfied with what you have, you dump a shit-ton of beeswax into the cauldron, watching it slowly melt before adding in the other items. While all that boils away, you wander over to your other writing desk, skipping past your grimoire in favor of digging into a drawer. There, you retrieve a small glass vial and a bag of jumbo marshmallows; those in hand, you walk back over to where Leon resides.

“Time for the secret ingredient.”

“It’s not really a secret ingredient if I already know what it is,” he frowned.

“Shut up and open wide.”

He rolls his eyes a bit, but does as he’s told. If you didn’t already know the truth here, you might have not seen anything unhuman about his teeth. Overly white from years of meticulous care and likely bleaching or whitening strips (though the thought of Leon walking around at night with whitening strips on his teeth nearly made you choke on your spit), but otherwise normal-looking human teeth. However, you knew better, and peered a little closer to his canines. Sure enough, you could see it; a slight shimmer, something like seeing heat rising off the earth during the summer, wavy and hardly noticeable. You took a marshmallow in one hand, the vial in the other; expertly, you stabbed the treat into one fang and simultaneously propped up the vial against the other tooth. Leon flinched a bit (“It feels really weird,” he had told you one time, following the same procedure the night he needed a quick fix after accidentally grabbing one of his grandmother’s rosaries when cleaning up his mother’s house, “kinda like I’m spitting with my teeth. Yuck.”). In seconds, small spurts of a dark, sort-of maroon-colored liquid fills up most of the vial. You give it a few seconds more before pulling away, taking a moment to drain the liquid from the marshmallow before offering the remains to the champion. He childishly takes it with glee, stuffing it into his mouth with that stupid smile on his face (goddamn his smile was gorgeous, but it’s way easier to just say that it was stupid, instead).

With the last and most important ingredient, you return to your work, carefully pouring the vial’s sibylline contents into the concoction. You pick up the large wooden spoon that hangs over the fireplace and give a few generous stirs.

“Y’know,” you hear Leon’s footsteps creeping up behind you, keeping a slow, leisurely pace as he meanders around the room, “this really wasn’t the future I thought for us when we were kids.”

You exhale a chuckle from your nose. You almost say that you feel the same, but the fear of him inquiring further about what you did envision makes you choose a different set of words.

“Don’t even think about getting all Byronic on me,” you peered over your shoulder. He simply smiles at you - an even stupider smile - hands in his pockets as he slowly makes his way towards you. “I’m not going to listen to you moan and groan about your tragic fate for all eternity.”

He chuckles, something surprising soft instead of his regular bone-shattered laugh.

“Of course not. I’m just saying that I figured we’d be, y’know, doing other things.” You try not to think about what he could mean by that. “But I’m not really against this. I don’t think I would’ve found out about your little shop of horrors down here, otherwise.”

He’s got a good point there. Literally the only reason you admitted to your secret life as a decently skilled witch was the night he turned. You could still remember it all; he stumbled into your house, desperately holding his wound with that terrified look in his eye, as if he was looking at Death, itself. You’d never personally treated a victim of vampire’s night out (not a live one, anyway), but you did everything in your power to keep Leon alive. But you knew that it was nothing short of a miracle that he managed to wake up the next morning, having survived a night of literal death in slow-motion. Not so many victims were so fortunate to make it through the process, but like hell you were about to let your childhood friend die like that. So now he knew your secret, and you protected his. At least you didn’t have to worry about the two of you drifting apart any time soon, especially with him always forgetting basic vampyric flaws like sunlight all the time.

He settles beside you, offering a soft smile.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really grateful to know someone like you. You’ve got better things to be doing, and yet you always make time to bring me back after I do something stupid again and again.”

You look into his eyes a moment too long before looking back into your task. The gooey mixture, now dyed a deep red, bubbled down below, seeming almost alive.

“You make it sound like I just started doing this. I’ve been patching you up since kindergarten.”

“Fair enough. But still… I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. So, thank you.”

He’s got that look in his eyes again, golden irises burning brighter than ever, and he’s far too close for you to be comfortable. So, logically, you look even deeper into your cauldron, grateful that the darkness of the room likely hides your ever-burning cheeks. Thankfully, the brew looks just about ready. You reach over and grab a small bowl from the table nearby, spooning some of the waxy goo into its hold.

From birth, it had been decided that you would carry on your mother’s family tradition of witchcraft. And you have - with much pride - and it’s become your greatest secret that would spell disaster should it be learned by the wrong people. You didn’t make many friends, but Leon’s dumb smile was so infectious that you were always drawn to him, even if he drove you bat-shit with his innocent antics. The two of you were close for so long, but after he became champion, things became a bit more strained. You figured that it wouldn’t be long before he forgot about you altogether - but then last year’s “incident” happened, and now a whole new understanding unknown to much of the world had formed between you both. You knew it was far too late to ever consider confessing any of your possible feelings for him (feelings of annoyance, you always told yourself - what an unfortunate lie that’s come to be), but now here you were, likely stuck as his clandestine nurse for the rest of your mortal life. And then what? You’d be reincarnated, would likely stumble upon memories of your past lives (such is the fate of those who take on the witch’s mantle), and see the man you once loved (or loathed, as you’d rather say) finding someone else to take care of him in your absence. For him, it’d hardly feel like a change. But for you, it’d truly be a fate beyond that of death or eternal damnation. You should be happy that he has a reason to stay with you for the rest of your life, but instead, all you can feel is a bitter aftertaste that you have no choice but to suffer through.

“I can’t say I believe in fate,” you shrug your shoulders, “but every now and then the stars align in such a way that has us thinking that God has a sense of humor.”

Leon chuckles again, but you don’t really know. He doesn’t really know what you’re referring to. Right?

You shuffle him back over to the chair, sitting him down and resting his arm across the armrest. As gentle as possible, you spread the salve across the burn area, letting it soak in a bit before applying a second coating that you massage into his skin. Leon watches with that dumb, stupid, bothersome smile of his; you make a point never to meet those eyes, not when you’re so close to him like this.

After a few minutes, you give an affirmative nod and pull back, inspecting the injury. Sure enough, it’s already starting to lighten up.

“Looks like we got power in the healing department,” you smirk. “You’re all ready to go, Good Sir Champion.”

“Not quite.” You must’ve made a weird face, because he’s quickly backtracking, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh. “I mean, uh, I still have to pay you back double, right? You never said what kind of payment you want.”

You don’t like the way he phrased that. No, you hate the way he phrased that. It’s got your mind in all sorts of a jumble, now. So as quick as you can (before you accidentally say something stupid), you make up a response.

“Flowers.”

Okay that’s really fucking dumb.

Leon quirks his eyebrows at you, seeming amused once more.

“I, uh, I mean,” you stumble for words, hoping to dig yourself out of this hole you’ve thrown yourself into with one stupid word. “What I mean is… I’ve been looking for a specific set of flowers for this spell I’m working on, but they don’t really sell them in stores nearby. So, uh, yeah. Get me flowers.”

“Flowers? For a spell?”

“For a spell,” you affirm.

“Okay,” there’s a strange tone to his voice that you don’t really want to try and decipher, “I can do that. What, uh… what kind of flowers do you want - er, what kind do you need? For the spell?”

You run through a mental list of all the most non-romantic flowers you can think of. Unfortunately, you like flowers, so all of them kinda felt romantic. God fucking dammit.

“Uh… dahlia’s? Black dahlia’s - yeah, those’ll be good. For the spell.”

“Right, the spell,” he nods, glancing off to the side for a millisecond. “I think I can do that, yeah. For a second, I was kind of scared you were gonna make me get a bunch of super poisonous flowers. Not sure how I would explain that one to my bank.”

“Y-yeah, right.”

A brief (and awkward) silence settles over the two of you. Eventually, Leon moves to get up; you shuffle a few steps back to give him enough space to stretch.

“Well, thanks again for helping me - I feel a thousand times better. I swear, you’re a better doctor than, well, actual doctors.”

You smirk with a smidge of pride. “Magic is just a science that hasn’t been accepted yet. And it looks cooler, too.”

“Maybe you can teach me a few things, some time.”

You narrow your eyes at him, playfully glaring in such a way that has him laughing just at the sight of it.

“That’ll cost you more flowers, Lee - are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want - any kind you want.”

You wait a minute for him to backtrack, or to say “For the spell” in a rushed manner like always. But that’s it, the end of the sentence. He just stands there, smiling in that stupid way evermore, eyes focused entirely on you.

It’s a look that you can hardly describe, the look in his eyes at that moment. It pulls something from your chest that you had spent years keeping locked up tight.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You don’t know what scares you more - the fact that you said that, or the fact that he grins even brighter.

You’re the witch here, and yet he’s the one trapping you in this terrible enthrallmetn that has you seeing stars with just that stupid-dumb smile of his. It’s hard to blame it on his status or his altered state of humanity when this has always been the case. No, that’s just the kind of person Leon has always been and (hopefully) always will be. And you would likely be stuck with this (gorgeous) idiot for the rest of your mortal life.

It’s got your heart beating faster - you can’t tell if it’s from fear or from excitement. Maybe both. Most likely both.

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paladin-lynx · 3 years

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SquipJere Week 2020, Day 6: Sexy Anime Cat Girl With a Tail

@squipjerebmc’s SquipJere Week 2020 Day 6: Sexy Anime Cat Girl With a Tail

Ships Involved: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip/SquipJere)

Setting: Canonverse, set in the time interval between “Loser Geek Whatever” and “Halloween”.

Trigger/Content Warnings: non-graphic mentions of masturbation; sexual situations and implications but no graphic depictions of sex; anthropomorphic/furry characters; tail kink; kissing; grinding; groping

Author’s Notes: Am I posting this weeks after the event already ended? Maybe. I ended up starting this piece when SquipJere Week was still happening before I fell out of my groove, so hopefully I managed to pick up where I left off well enough. This one’s a little spicier than the others, as you can probably tell from the warnings, hehe. Enjoy!

The SQUIP had been working long and hard to condition Jeremy to not think about sex nearly as often as he used to, and the fact that it seemed to be successful thus far in its efforts was nothing short of amazing. Jeremy had gone from feeling the need to jerk off every morning like clockwork to actually being able to get through an entire day without thinking about something lewd. The only time he ever got a pass was when he was with Brooke, but he hadn’t been seeing her much outside of school lately. She was just a stepping stone to get to Christine anyway, and while she was attractive and sweet, Jeremy wasn’t really all that into her. And that made him feel bad about using her as some kind of practice dummy.

“She’s used to it,” the SQUIP would say while squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “She’ll move on to someone else quickly enough. You don’t have to be concerned about hurting her.”

That didn’t really make Jeremy feel much better, but he had always been someone who worried constantly about what others thought of him or how they felt about things he’d done. It was a big part of why he’d gotten the SQUIP in the first place – no one would ever see him as anything more than the awkward cardigan-wearing loser who spent all his time playing video games and getting high in his only friend’s basement. Michael had always been perfectly content to march to the beat of his own drum and didn’t seem to really care about anyone’s opinions of him, and he seemed to just assume Jeremy felt the same.

But Jeremy yearned to be somebody. He didn’t want to just survive every day and wait for the next day to be exactly the same. He wanted to live and have a life.

And so the SQUIP helped him to thrive in all areas. He dressed better, he walked more confidently, he was doing well in school and in the drama club. He was getting closer every day to all the cool kids and Brooke seemed completely enamored with him.

Of course, he was still a teenage boy. And teenage boys had urges. And while Jeremy could rein in those urges when he was awake and alert, that most definitely wasn’t the case when he was asleep.

He hadn’t been thinking about anything particularly sexy in nature before going to bed – at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t, or else the SQUIP definitely would’ve had something to say about it – but that didn’t seem to matter. The dream had started out simple enough. It was almost boring, really. He was lounging on his bed, playing around on his phone, with the SQUIP laying beside him and watching quietly. The SQUIP as of late had been indulging itself more in the simple pleasures of human life and seemed content to observe Jeremy just existing rather than criticizing his every thought and action. Ever since it had realized it may be able to feel and Jeremy had assured it that he did really like having it around, it had taken to merely being near him when things were calm.

But all too quickly, the dream shifted away from the PG. The SQUIP smirked and reached over to take his phone – something that dream logic apparently decided was a thing that the SQUIP could actually do – to set it aside, and then didn’t hesitate to climb on top of him and straddle his waist. The SQUIP felt surprisingly more solid than normal, and while it was normally a bit cold to the touch, it actually felt rather warm now, like it was flesh and blood and not just a projection from Jeremy’s mind.

There was soon a hungry mouth on his and they were kissing, Jeremy wrapping his arms around the SQUIP and curling his fingers into the back of its cloak. However, when he pulled back, he realized the face looking at him was not that of Keanu Reeves, but instead a rather well-endowed girl with big, unmistakably anime-styled eyes, shining an ever familiar bright blue. She had long flowing black hair and atop her head proudly sat a pair of cat ears, and the cloak Jeremy had been holding onto was replaced with a rather short dress covered in a circuitry pattern. And Jeremy was pretty sure he could see a long black tail waving behind her.

Jeremy gawked for a moment but he did seem to have enough brain power to comprehend that this was still his SQUIP – he remembered way back when it had said one of its potential forms for him was that ‘sexy anime cat girl with a tail’ – and that seemed to be all the go-ahead the SQUIP needed to dive back in and kiss him again. Jeremy felt like there was fire under his skin as he kissed back, one hand shifting down to toy with the SQUIP’s new tail, causing it to mewl into his mouth. And of course that only spurred Jeremy on more.

The dream only escalated from there. Clothes disappeared at some point and the SQUIP’s mouth was everywhere on him, skilled and teasing. Given that the SQUIP was in Jeremy’s mind, it of course knew all the right ways to get him to writhe and moan. It could have only been a few seconds or it could have very well been hours when the SQUIP finally climbed back into his lap, a grin on those feline lips, and sank down onto him.

Jeremy woke up choking out a gasp, gripping his sheets and realizing rather quickly that both them and he were drenched in sweat. He had to take a moment to catch his breath, feeling as though he had just run a mile, and when he noticed that his pajama pants were feeling rather sticky, he quickly realized what had happened.

“Oh my God…” he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face before pushing back the hair slicked to his forehead.

“I see you had quite the dream.”

Jeremy yelped at the sudden voice, scrambling to sit up and ending up tangled in the blankets for a moment. He stared with wide eyes at the SQUIP – in its usual form, thankfully – sitting in his desk chair, glowing that gentle blue against the darkness of the room. It was the middle of the night, judging by the fact that it was still dark outside, as well. The SQUIP was grinning slightly at him, looking thoroughly amused.

Jeremy just blinked dumbly at it for a moment, his mouth dry. “D…did you do that?”

“Oh goodness, no, Jeremy. I may be inside your brain, but the subconscious is not a realm that I can delve into. It’s much too complex and I wouldn’t want to potentially damage your mind by interfering with it.”

“But…you still saw it?”

The SQUIP hummed. “Bits and pieces. And, well, clearly you have a pretty vivid memory of it, so…” Its grin widened a fraction. “I can see it all now as you think about it.”

Jeremy’s entire face burned and he quickly tried to put the dream out of his mind, although he knew how this worked – now that he was actively trying not to think about it, it would result in him just thinking about it more whether he wanted to or not.

“Are you gonna shock me or make me do push-ups?” he asked warily.

The SQUIP tilted its head to one side, gaze sweeping up and down Jeremy’s body in a way that made him swallow a lump in his throat.

“…I’ll let it slide this time,” it murmured, chuckling. It smiled at him again, waving a hand dismissively. “Change out of those clothes. You’ve soiled them.”

Face still feeling hot, Jeremy slid out of bed and went to grab a fresh pair of pajamas, trying to ignore how he could feel the SQUIP’s eyes still on him. He did take a moment to grab some tissues and clean himself up and soon enough he was changed, although he frowned as he looked back at the bed and realized his sheets were still soaked. He didn’t like making the bed on a normal day, let alone in the dead of night. He could probably just deal with it, or sleep on the couch, although the latter option would raise some questions from his dad in the morning – if he cared enough to be inquisitive, anyway.

“Whatever,” he sighed, pulling the blankets up so they covered the dampened sheets and he could lay on top of them. He shifted so he could flip his pillow over, as well, humming contently at the cooler side pressed against his cheek and closing his eyes. Everything was peaceful.

“Jeremy…”

His eyes shot back open when the SQUIP’s voice came out much higher-pitched and sing-songy than normal. He was about to sit up when he felt himself pressed back onto the bed, weight pushing against his shoulders and waist. The SQUIP suddenly appeared atop him, grinning wickedly as it took the form of the very same cat girl he’d seen in his dream. The only difference now was that its touch was cool against his skin rather than warm.

“L-Ly?” he managed, blinking up at his SQUIP with wide eyes. “Wh…what are you doing?”

It chuckled – more like purred, honestly – and leaned in close. “You keep telling me to find things that I enjoy,” it murmured, tail flicking in amusement. “And I’ve come to conclude that I do very much enjoy seeing you all flustered like this. Do you like this form of mine, Jeremy? We both know about your attraction to anthropomorphic characters and…well, I believe you also have an affinity for tails, right?”

Jeremy tried to say something, to retort, but he just ended up letting out a rather pathetic squeak because of course the SQUIP was right. Michael teased him all the time – lovingly, of course – for being a furry, and he was never going to let Jeremy live down that one time he’d accidentally admitted that he thought Thalia would look cute with a tail.

But the SQUIP had worked so tirelessly to keep Jeremy from doing anything that would incite sexual thoughts, and yet here it was, seducing him. Was it seducing him? Jeremy wasn’t completely sure he was actually awake yet, to be honest.

But even if the SQUIP wasn’t nearly as warm as it’d felt in Jeremy’s dream, this did feel much more real in a way he couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe it was simply because he was, in fact, no longer dreaming and his brain could better process the situation – although he definitely still felt like he was at a loss.

“I…” was all that fell from his lips when he tried to speak again.

The SQUIP grinned, eyes bright with amusement and mischief, and it closed the gap between them. The feeling of the SQUIP kissing him was tingly and, dare he say, electrifying. It wasn’t like kissing Brooke, which was all warm and wet and messy. Even while insistent, every move the SQUIP made was precisely calculated and its lips were still cool against his, firing off all the right nerves to make it feel like there was something actually there.

It was so obvious to Jeremy that he was kissing nothing more than a glorified figment of his imagination, like this was just another fantasy. But he didn’t care. He liked it. His chest bloomed with warmth and his stomach was doing somersaults, and he couldn’t help letting out a soft whine against the SQUIP’s mouth. He wasn’t entirely sure why the SQUIP was doing this or if this was all some elaborate trick, but he threw caution to the wind and gripped onto the back of that dress like he had in his dream, pulling the SQUIP more against him. Their chests brushed and the SQUIP’s hips slid against his in a way that made Jeremy arch up with a gasp, and the SQUIP didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to slide its tongue into Jeremy’s mouth. It was a little weird since it wasn’t wet and gross like a human tongue would be – Frenching was still something Jeremy was getting used to when it came to Brooke – but he could taste the SQUIP all the same.

It eventually pulled back and Jeremy sucked in a breath, having apparently forgotten that oxygen was a thing that he needed. The SQUIP looked entirely unfazed, still sitting triumphantly atop him with that wide grin. Jeremy’s chest heaved, his body growing warmer, and while he still wasn’t sure if this was some weird test, he gave in to his desire and tugged the SQUIP down again, kissing it once more. He felt the vibration of a chuckle against his mouth and for a moment Jeremy thought the SQUIP might just stop and leave him yearning, but then it was kissing back with just as much hunger.

Whining again, Jeremy let his hands drift down. He could feel the soft, silky fabric of the SQUIP’s dress as if it were really there, although there was a slight buzz at his fingertips, as if he was touching active wires. No one else would ever feel like the SQUIP, and that sent an odd sort of thrill through Jeremy. He couldn’t help wondering, in the back of his mind, if some people got SQUIPs for things like this. After all, if something was inside your brain, it knew exactly how to make you feel good, right? Although he supposed there were probably some drawbacks to SQUIPs only being able to project a holographic form. It wasn’t an actual, physical body like an android or something would have.

But those thoughts were hardly present in Jeremy’s mind as he lost himself in the moment. The SQUIP’s hips gave another teasing little roll that had Jeremy whimpering and on a whim he let his hands slip down to the SQUIP’s ass, wanting to pull on its tail.

So he had a kink. Sue him.

However, as he felt around, kneading at the soft skin, his brow furrowed when his fingers never found a tail. He pulled out of the kiss and opened his eyes, squeaking and turning bright red when he realized he was no longer looking that cute cat girl in the face, but instead a familiar Keanu Reeves lookalike.

The SQUIP, naturally, was still smirking like it was having the time of its life. “Problem, dear?”

“Y-you…” Jeremy tried, but he had no retort. He would’ve thought that the want – the need, nearly – to have the SQUIP close, kissing and touching it, would instantly fade away upon seeing the SQUIP’s usual form. After all, Jeremy saw it all the time and while it was an attractive face, it wasn’t one that Jeremy had thought about kissing – okay, well, maybe a couple of times, but that was just because his mind liked to imagine most things in a sexual way, horny teenage boy that he was. The cat girl had made him feel so many things and he hadn’t been able to help himself.

However, to his surprise, he found that even looking at this face he’d been seeing every day, 24/7, for the past few months, the urge to be close wasn’t going away.

“I…” he mumbled, suddenly feeling very small, his hands hurriedly falling from the SQUIP’s back where they’d been lingering. He shouldn’t be feeling this. He shouldn’t have felt it before even with the SQUIP’s rather sexy new form, but he definitely shouldn’t be feeling it now.

The SQUIP definitely sensed his hesitation and seemed to soften up a bit. Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt a wave of calm wash over his mind and he sighed quietly, his muscles relaxing against the bed beneath him.

“There you go, love,” it cooed and, after giving Jeremy a moment to process, it leaned down to press their lips together again. This time it was gentler, more a brush against his mouth than a kiss proper, and Jeremy felt the weight against his waist lift slightly. Jeremy just lay there for a moment as the SQUIP kissed him before his eyes fluttered shut and he almost shyly kissed back, like it was his first time.

It only lasted a few seconds and then the SQUIP pulled back, shifting to move off of Jeremy and lay beside him on the bed. It gently ran a hand up Jeremy’s arm, and Jeremy felt the hairs there rise up at the cool, slightly static-y touch. “Are you alright?” it asked.

Jeremy blinked and ended up coughing out a laugh. “You’re asking that now?”

It frowned, eyebrows furrowing. It tilted its head slightly – analyzing, calculating, predicting. “…I apologize,” it murmured, still tracing along Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy almost wondered if it was fidgeting like that. “I suppose I got an…impulse and I got carried away with it. I shouldn’t have pinned you down. And I shouldn’t have kissed you or moved against you like that. It was highly inappropriate.”

Jeremy just stared. The SQUIP had definitely been acting more and more like a human lately as it explored what it wanted outside of just being Jeremy’s coach, but never had it sounded so ashamed, like it truly thought it had done something wrong. Jeremy’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise and he scrambled for something to say.

“I…I mean…” he started. “You…would’ve known if I didn’t want it, right? You’re in my brain. You…knew I was enjoying it.”

“I believe most would call that ‘taking advantage’ of you, Jeremy.”

“I could’ve told you to stop. Even if my mouth was, er, preoccupied, I could’ve thought at you.”

“Would you have done that, though?”

That had Jeremy faltering and he had to consider it. And he realized he wasn’t sure. Even if he had been uncomfortable, he’d been so overwhelmed by all the sensations the SQUIP was making him feel that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to properly convey that he didn’t want it. And even if he could’ve, he might’ve ended up being too afraid of the SQUIP’s disapproval that he wouldn’t have said anything at all and just let it happen.

The SQUIP, of course, could hear all of his thoughts on the matter and huffed softly. “Exactly.”

Jeremy’s brow creased. “You’re acting like I’m mad at you.”

“You should be.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m…confused, really, more than anything else.”

The SQUIP sighed. “I would imagine so.” It paused, processing once again. “…I’m honestly not…entirely sure why I did that. Like I said, it was an impulse.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “But you always run predictions and stuff. You had to of seen what would come after if you acted like that. Was this…all because of my dream? Did it like, mess with your code or something because I dreamed about you?”

“You’ve dreamt about me before, Jeremy, that isn’t how this works,” the SQUIP scoffed, and Jeremy was glad that it was at least well enough to criticize his lack of knowledge about supercomputer pills. “…I suppose I wanted to tease you a little, as it were, about this particular dream, but that was all. I had only planned on changing my form for a brief moment, but once I was on top of you…” It trailed off and Jeremy felt a buzz at the back of his head that he was already learning to recognize as the SQUIP’s version of being flustered.

“…Yeah?” he prompted.

Its form flickered for a moment. “…Nothing else mattered,” it murmured. “Of course I saw the plausible futures. Of course I knew what a bad idea it was. But…I didn’t care.” Its expression twisted in frustration. “Why didn’t I care…? Am I defective?”

Jeremy wished he could answer, but he truly didn’t know. However, he’d learned a fair bit about the SQUIP in these last few weeks. Maybe he still didn’t completely understand how its programming worked, but he knew what he saw and he could sometimes feel things through their connection, even if it was difficult to discern exactly what it was he was feeling. And while Jeremy had never been the best at puzzles, he could still recognize patterns when he saw them. There were sensations he’d feel when the SQUIP seemed happier than usual, and on the opposite end of the spectrum there were things he’d feel when it was particularly agitated.

So, he had a theory. “Maybe you wanted it.”

The SQUIP blinked at him before tutting. “I’m a mach—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a machine, you don’t feel, you don’t ‘experience emotions’ like I do. You’ve told me that a gazillion times, but I’m starting to think it’s just bullshit.”

Jeremy almost laughed at how scandalized the SQUIP looked. “Excuse me?”

He sighed. “You obviously feel things, Ly. You sing because you think it’s fun. You get annoyed when you find stupid bugs in the video games you run around in. You like to poke fun at me and call me things like ‘love’ and ‘dear’ because you think my reactions are funny. So…so maybe you wanted to kiss me because, I don’t know, you thought you’d like it?”

The SQUIP’s gaze swiveled back down and Jeremy once again felt that buzz as it considered his words.

“…Did you like it?” Jeremy asked after he didn’t get an answer for a bit. It had definitely seemed like the SQUIP had enjoyed itself, acting like it owned him, but then again, the SQUIP also did things to experiment and test results, so it could have just continued on to see what would happen.

“…I did,” it finally said, whispering so quietly Jeremy almost swore he misheard it.

The buzzing at the back of his head was growing more insistent and Jeremy could tell that the SQUIP was trying to make sense of this entire situation. It was strange, because Jeremy figured that by now the SQUIP would’ve come to accept that its A.I. had evolved to the point where it could actually experience things similar to how a human could, since they’d had so many conversations like this before, but it seemed that it still had its limits on what it deemed acceptable. And while his SQUIP definitely had its quirks, Jeremy doubted that there was anything inherently wrong with it. After all, it scanned itself regularly for problems in its software, so it wasn’t that – unless something had slipped under the radar, but Jeremy doubted that, too.

Deciding to take initiative for once in his life – although he supposed he had the SQUIP to thank for that, with all its work to boost his confidence – he gently put a hand on the SQUIP’s cheek, turning its face to him. He was a little surprised that it actually worked, considering that he had no real control over the projection, but the SQUIP still blinked at him.

“Remember what you said, that you just acted without thinking about the consequences?” he asked. “We’ll worry about all this later, just…for now, go back to that. Do what you want to. Don’t think about what it all means.”

The SQUIP looked like it wanted to protest for a heartbeat but then its expression softened and it nodded, leaning in and kissing Jeremy again.

Jeremy, of course, gently pulled the SQUIP closer against him, glad when he could feel the press of its form against his chest. They both knew that this probably wasn’t wise of them and they’d have to really look more into it when they had the chance, but for now, Jeremy was content to focus on how nice the SQUIP’s lips felt on his and how good it felt to have those cool, strong hands on him.

And from the static against his mouth and the warmth in the back of his mind, he was pretty sure the SQUIP was okay with that, too.

#SquipJere Week 2020 #lynx tales #mine #writing #Be More Chill #BMC Jeremy Heere #BMC SQUIP #Technical Difficulties #Squipemy #Squeremy #JereSquip #SquipJere #Jeremy Heere #SQUIP #would you believe that going into the event this was actually the only day i had an actual plan for? lol #hopefully it turned out okay i feel like stopping partway through left it a bit all over the place #BMC #fic #fanfiction

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silvia7272 · 4 years

Text

9 ~ Revelations Revealed

Hey guys. I can’t believe how many notes I have on My Cardigan Story. It's truly amazing and I love you guys so much thank you. I hope you’ll enjoy today's chapter, and I hope you’ll understand some points I make and whether or not you like it is completely up to you.

I’m going to Headcanons that the Kwami’s can’t see what their holders do once they transform, however, I do think some of their personality does get passed onto them when they do transform. Marinette becomes confident and strong like Tikki, Chat Noir is playful and funny like Plagg, I always thought they matched once they transformed.

Word Count: 3249

Also, how would people feel about having 3 in 1 fics? So, I’ll put 3 fic stories in one post, that way there's more content to enjoy, around the same length as the others and it may but just a little bit of filler so you can enjoy more interactions. They may seem less important so I think the 3 in 1 fics will be canon but not as relevant, if an idea has it's on fic, it's important/I wanted to expand on it.

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue , @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

***

“Marinette how could you?” Uggh this again? Could they not give it a rest? This was the same routine Marinette had been living by before Chloé and Rosina entered the picture. It didn’t matter what she did, Lila would be persistent about making the class hate her, even though she had accomplished it she still wanted that hatred to be directed towards someone.

She just so happened to be that someone.

If she said the truth, she was of course lying.

If she denied, she was lying.

If she did anything, she was lying.

And god was she sick of it. Couldn’t they see Lila was just spinning so many tales to grab their attention it was unbelievable?

But she couldn’t do anything else.

Because it still hurt so much.

And she couldn’t tell anyone.

“I didn’t do that, she’s lying.” But of course, they all rolled their eyes at her. Lila was ‘hysterically sobbing’ into the arms of Mylène, they never saw the smirk the brunette gave her.

And they just believed her. With no evidence to back it up.

Man did it make her mad.

She also didn’t miss the disappointed look Adrien had given her, but she was quickly able to go back to her friends and act as if nothing had happened.

Because she had to.

If she continued being angry, then she would get Akumatized.

The day she was nearly expelled was close enough, she could never let something like that happen.

So, she thought the best option was to bottle everything inside.

But she remembered how it all came crashing down on her when Rosina let her enter that Trinklet world. She knew it was bad when she had cried for a long time, she didn’t know how long due to the no time concept, but it must’ve been awhile.

And yet she still bottled everything in. How else was she meant to deal with it?

“Maaaaaaaari? Are you ok there? You’ve been spacing out?” A hand was waved in front of her face as she blinked out of her stupor.

“I’m fine, I’ve just had a lot on my mind, I’m fine really, hahaha” She was trying to play it off as cool and hoped the other two wouldn’t notice.

“You really need to learn how to relax Marinette. I’ll plan a spa day for us all” Marinette had to stop the blonde from pressing anything.

“Nonono, Chloé really it's fine, I’m almost done anyway” She laughed nervously. And it played out like the day usually did.

The day ended and they went home, she ignored that feeling of eyes upon her as Rosina bounced along beside her.

She ignored the feeling of eyes upon her as she was nearing her house with Rosina looking around.

She ignored the cold hard stare in front of her as she bumped into Rosina who had halted midstep… And stopped bouncing.

“Rosina? What's wrong, is everything-”

“Aunty!” Rosina leapt and hugged the tiny woman in front of her.

“Amoretto! Cease this public display of affection!”

Whack

“Sorry, but I haven’t seen you for so long. And I have so much to tell you. Marinette’s been great, she’s my first ever friend here, and I’ve made other friends as well and-” Franchezca put her arm up to stop the young girl from retelling her everything the girl deemed necessary.

“That’s all very good, however, there are some important matters I have to dish out. To Miss Dupain-Cheng. Alone” the girls widened their eyes.

That did not seem good.

“Wha-What? Why?”

“We can discuss that privately, now let’s get going… You’ll soon learn that I can be a very impatient person” She slowly walked out and before Marinette could even process what was happening she felt as if she was being pushed.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Rosina stop pushing I’m gonna-”

She fell.

“I’m so sorry Mari. It's just that, it must be really urgent if Aunty wants to talk to you” As much as Marinette wanted to deny seeing her, she was vaguely curious.

“But, why not bring you along? You haven’t seen her in weeks” The redhead shrugged.

“I don’t mind, she’s always like this, but you better get going. She really hates waiting” Marinette nodded before running off, knowing Rosina would make an excuse to her parents.

She didn’t know why the former Ladybug holder wanted to have a word with her, but she did grow with slight nervousness with each passing moment.

“Finally you made it, next time I ask to meet you, it should be quicker” Marinette huffed before glaring. She was talking to her niece, why was she so grumpy anyway?

Before she could ask, a light was forming around the older woman. She was shocked, that was the same thing Rosina had! They both had one?

“Ladybug! Hurry up and come hither” She stepped inside this light and disappeared.

“Don’t say that so loud!” She followed before disappearing as well, luckily no audience was watching them.

***

“Where are we?” This was not like Rosina’s Trinklet. Hers was a lot more peaceful and fuller of nature. This had tons of doors on either side of them when looking around it seemed very narrow, like a never-ending office. But it seemed that Hernandez knew where she was going, heading towards a certain red door.

She opened the door and the blue-haired girl walked in.

“What is this place?” Looking around all the girl saw was darkness, except for a large white light in the middle of the room.

“We’re going to take a trip down memory lane. Now look deep into it” Franchezca commanded. Marinette rolled her eyes at this order but proceeded, she really wished she wasn’t going to be treated like this, but she looked deep into the light, ready for whatever she was about to face.

She didn’t expect to see Alya of all people.

“He cannot be allowed to hear that message Alya, if he does I’ll die of shame” This was the past, how was that possible?

“Okay okay, I got an idea. If Adrien’s phone went to voicemail it means the dudes busy, which also means you can get to it before he does” Back when they were friends. This was the day Theo made that statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

The past Marinette excitedly ran and pulled down the traced schedule of Adrien’s life went into…

It flashed from event to event, from stealing Adrien’s phone to abandoning Paris, being rude to André and planning to gate-crash Kagami’s chance of being near Adrien. Once she had lost all her friends to Lila, she was able to recognise that this behaviour was unacceptable and extremely creepy, she regretted it as she realised her jealousy got the better of her when it came to Adrien. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if meeting Rosina a year ago would let her be sane, her being so close to Adrien and all, would she have blown up at her? She didn’t want to think about it anymore, that was the past and she was living in the present. Sure, she was younger, but that wasn’t an excuse for her behaviour. At least she was learning as she swore, she would never do it again.

“These are the mistakes you have made Ladybug. And you need to recognise everything you’ve done from past to present. You need to understand your actions aren’t always right.” A red dot immediately zoomed out and came into view of Franchezca’s face.

“Marinette may have made some mistakes in the past but she’s acknowledged them and became better and! -” A hand shushed her before she could continue.

“I’m not finished yet, bug. And do not interrupt me again” They glared before Tikki reluctantly flew back to the blue-haired girl.

She muttered a sorry before flying back into the girl's purse.

“You’ve continued this even, you stole the boy's phone, read other letters, rude to people when you were upset-”

“Hey so are you!”

“I have a reason.”

“You don’t treat the Chat Noir as your partner, more like a sidekick, although that I can’t reprehend you on that, all Chat Noir’s are sidekicks, a Ladybug holder has more power than Chat Noir.” Marinette would’ve interrupted but she was silenced by yet another glare.

“All of your past mistakes are there, written in black and white, are here for you to see”

“But I’ve changed since then, I’m not friends with any of them, I even learnt to forgive my bully. I have new friends that I can trust not let me do that anymore. Your Niece helped me a lot Mlle Hernandez, and I thank her a lot, so I don’t understand what I need to do?!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but she was really struggling to comprehend the solution, if there was any solution in fact.

“You still keep all of that anger and regret inside of you” Marinette widened her eyes. She… Does?

“I don’t blame you for not recognising the symptoms, or anyone else for not noticing. You put on a mask to make sure you don’t seem hurt, but you are. And that negative emotion is going to eat you up until either you explode or an Akuma gets a hold of you. And I seriously doubt you’d want that to happen.” She nodded, still trying to process the new information handed to her.

“And you need to let that go”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to end up cold and bitter, like me? You are young, still young, you children make stupid decisions all the time, because it’s a part of life, and first-hand experience is the best way to learn. It's up to you if you want to forgive or forget, but don’t harbour any negative emotions towards your past. So, let it go”

“Why are you giving me this advice? Don’t you hate me?” Marinette retaliated.

“What reason would I specifically hate a 14-year-old girl? I hate everyone equally so don’t flatter yourself. Even if I still don’t agree you should be Ladybug, you also shouldn’t burden yourself and ask for help once in a while, you don’t need to only rely on yourself. This is meant in and out of battle, so remember that you aren’t alone, you have your sidekick after all”

So, she just wanted to help? That seemed completely out of character for someone like her, but Marinette guessed that since she didn’t know her like Rosina, it wouldn’t be fair to make that judgement.

Plus, it was true, even if Marinette didn’t want to admit it. She was still taking her time with asking for help from others, normally she would gladly take on all the work whenever her friends asked for anything, or she would offer to make banners for Alix whenever she had a race, or help out in the art room whenever she was free, and she only noticed how unhealthy that was, she was desperately clinging onto her friends now since she didn’t want to be abandoned again.

Maybe she did need some help?

“Thank you, Mlle Hernandez, I get it now. I’ll learn to let my anger go and focus on my future” The older woman was about to respond but Marinette beat her to it, she smirked inwardly as well.

“But I’m also determined to prove to you that I am a good Ladybug, even if you don’t think so. Maybe not now, but I swear in the future I will prove you wrong, and I won’t fail Paris. With my friends, we will defend Paris and defeat Hawkmoth”

Ding

Franchezca felt something, or technically saw something, a silhouette of Rosina behind her, smiling like she always would be.

She grinned, that determination was contagious, she knew that feeling all too well.

“Very well, Ladybug. Prove me wrong, but prove yourself right before that” She turned on her heel as Marinette and Tikki hugged another.

“That was awesome Marinette, you were so confident”

“Thanks, Tikki. It may have been tough, but she just wanted me to understand I guess” They would’ve continued if not hearing a voice.

“Well, Ladybug? If you want to prove to me that you’re serious then we need to get you out of that ridiculous level 1 costume, it’s a disgrace to all fashion designers. Kwami, have you really not informed you're chosen of the levels?” Tikki shot out again, she was still angry with Franchezca with that comment about Chat Noir.

“You know as well as I do that there are too many power-ups to explain all at once. We still have so much to clarify, I didn’t want to overwhelm her.”

“…What?”

Something told Marinette she would be staying here for a loooong time.

***

There was a lot to discuss yesterday.

And the cold hard truth was exactly that, cold, hard, and straight to the point. It may not be exactly what the blue-eyed girl wanted to hear, but she was glad to hear it now than later, in the midst of battle.

If R-

“Marinette!”

Uggh, here we go again.

“Yes?” It was coming. Any minute now.

“Care to explain why you sent horrible texts to Lila yesterday, especially after we confronted you, if this is because we found out your true colours then say it to us don’t be mean to Lila!” God damn, they were so ignorant of everything, she just wanted to-

Wait. This is exactly the same routine, and yes, she couldn’t stand it, but it was her life.

And she was going to change that routine.

“Fine…”

“How da- wait, what?” Even Lila seemed surprised, she was normally meant to fight and prove her innocence, not cave over immediately. What happened?

“I said fine, I promise not to text Lila, even though I don’t have her phone number, ever again. And I don’t know why she keeps bringing me up in conversation. But you can go back and forget about me and I’ll promise never to talk to her or text her ever. I really don’t care, I have plans with my friends anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom. But seriously, just please tell her not to drag me into her fallouts, I don’t care about any of that stuff.” She wanted to laugh but had to hold it in as she passed them all and walked straight into the restroom. Once she sat in a cubicle the red Kwami flew out of her purse.

“That was great Marinette. Franchezca’s advice really helped.”

“Mhmm, yeah I guess she really was right. After I let go, I feel calmer and happier, plus I have more free time now, unless an Akuma comes obviously, but, I sorta feel… Better”

“That’s wonderful Mari-” They heard the door open so Tikki covered her mouth and whizzed back inside Marinette’s purse.

Marinette was unsure who it would be, but for all she knew it might be someone completely random, or someone she didn’t know.

There was no way to- it was Lila.

Marinette would’ve glared but soon remembered to let it go, huh that reminded her of Frozen, maybe she should watch that with Rosina some tim-

“You seem different, finally grew a backbone?” She instigated.

‘Just ignore her Marinette, she isn’t worth your time anymore’ She continued washing her hands, not daring to look in the mirror to see those green devilish eyes at all.

“It doesn’t matter, I swear I will make sure your empire will crumble, I can be very persuasive-”

“That’s nice” That slipped out, but she wasn’t really paying all that much attention anyway. She wanted to get back to her friends. Chloé still booked that spa day, and even though she was against the idea at first, she was excited to see what that would entail.

“-And your new friends will leave you”

Crack

Marinette should’ve ignored it. She knew Lila was just trying to get under her skin. But it was so hard, and this was only the first day.

“Aww, Mari~” The brunette mocked, using the same tone Rosina would use.

“I’m sure they are nice people, but I can be nicer, and they will leave you. Don’t take it too harshly I’m just stating facts”

“Stop”

“What? Sorry didn’t hear you, does the little mouse finally talk?” Lila laughed whipping her hair, about to make an exit.

“I don’t care”

That stopped Lila.

“You don’t care about your friends, oh my looks like you’ve been lying this entire time”

“Stop, just please stop, I don’t care anymore just stay with your other friends, will you? I don’t care that you’re lying, I don’t even care that Adrien knows. Just leave me alone will you? You’re so annoying.” And she walked off, she needed to chill and have some time pass before going to find Rosina and Chloé.

Maybe she could ask Rosina to take her to that opposite world again? She wondered if she could research some relaxation techniques to use, maybe some meditation?

She was sure to write everything down, that would surely calm her.

She didn’t care about the look a pair of green eyes were giving her.

She was starting to become happier. A sudden weight was lifted off her shoulders.

Besides, she had a meeting with Chat and Crisono later that day.

***

“Where is she? Ohh Bugaboo? Where are you?” The message Chat received didn’t scream urgency, but he couldn’t help but feel he had been duped into coming here as a prank.

“Chat quit it with the names already” He heard her voice before he heard her feet land on the ground, strange, he should’ve heard her the other way around.

She was getting better at sneaking up on people.

“Aww, but you know you love my names secretly buga-” He paused.

No longer was he staring at a pigtailed heroine that had captured his heart, no, he was staring at a new Ladybug.

It was the same Ladybug, of course, the voice matched, and he knew she wouldn’t just quit out of nowhere.

But it was different, she was different. Her outfit had changed a lot, she had black gloves and boots with red spots, and an overall that seemed to be covering her bodysuit, and her hair, it was no longer tied up, but down, two pieces of hair tied up.

“Ladybug, you- you’ve… You changed outfits? How? You look even more amazing” She blushed, ahh a sign from the heavens, be still his beating heart, he couldn’t contain his excitement. What made her want to change outfits he wondered?

“Thanks for noticing Kitty, I found out an awful lot about the Miraculous’ yesterday.” Chat slightly narrowed his eyes, here we go again, another secret he can’t be apart off, he should’ve guessed.

“And there's something I need to tell you. But you can’t tell Crisono. She’ll be here any minute now and I’d prefer if she didn’t overhear.”

“What is it?” He would just have to hope she’ll tell him later; they were partners after all. Besides, Crisono was his friend, he had to make sure it was something alright, but by the way his Lady was looking, it didn’t seem to be too pleasant.

She took a deep breath. And he could still remember how everything fell silent.

“The Miraculous cure doesn’t work on Crisono, if she dies, she dies”

***

Huh, this became more of a life lesson than saltiness. Although I still stand by Franchezca, children make stupid mistakes and decisions all the time, and even if I do simply love all ML Salt, I know it's exaggerated and fanon, and that’s alright, we’re able to take a fictional show and write how we interpret it ourselves, because it's not real, and that’s alright, it's real to us and that can be enough. Although I should clarify that this isn’t taking the higher ground, at least I don’t think so, just that Marinette is choosing to forget about them and live her own life, while they choose to either dwell on unimportant matters. Marinette wants to be happy, and if that means choosing to cut her old friends off then so be it. Hope that makes sense.

(Sorry turned sappy there) Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next one should be Piper, unless I get writer's block and do a bunch of 3 in 1 fics, or even some drawings, (I’ve done one of a character not yet shown in the fanfic, feel free to guess) Annnnnnnnd I’ve sorted names and Kwami’s to all the friends, I’m really excited to show them and for myself, to draw them, I went into detail about what I want in my book so I really can’t wait until they’re released. I’m so excited.

Ladybugs costume will be uploaded right after this hopefully, last time I had too many problems to count.

So, stay tuned next time, Cya. Hopefully, the next one will be longer, just wanted to get this out of the way.

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lunasilvermorny · 4 years

Text

Future AU - Rowan and Luna in 2020 (Part 1)

Writing about Luna and Rowan was always my favorite part of the headcanon and now that I quit (at least for now) the game, I no longer have any reason to hold myself back from thinking about Future AU scenarios for these two.

(I didn’t mean to make Rowan such a snack, but... it is what it is.)

The year is 2020 (thank you title for revealing it already), it’s around February-March, Luna is 46 and Rowan is 47.

Hope you’ll like it!

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“Doctor Silver, there’s someone here to see you.”

Luna thanked the nurse and went toward the oddly dressed man. He was two meters tall with a top hat that added at least 10 cm to his height, he wore a Hawaiian shirt with a yellow cardigan on top, baggy three quarter pants with black tights underneath and flowery pink shoes.

He straightened up his glasses and gave her a warm smile when he saw her heading his way.

“Hello there-“

“What are you doing here?” she dragged him to the side and gave him an annoyed look.

“Careful, my back.” He said and rubbed the muscles of his lower back.

“And what, in the name of god, are you wearing?” she ignored him and gestured at the unfitting combination of clothes.

“What, no good?” he was surprised. “My students told me top hats are all the rage.”

“Rowan.” She tried to remain calm. “Why are you here, mate?”

“This is a nice hospital-“

“Rowan.” She frowned.

“I’m glad to see you too, Rowan.” He did a bad imitation of her voice. “It’s been so long, how are you doing?”

“I’m working.” Luna reminded him.

“But you were taking a little tea break, weren’t you?”

“I had a three minutes break!” she said defensively. “I’ve been on call for 38 hours now, I think I deserve a bloody break.”

“38 hours?” he raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the chief physician?”

“We’re short on stuff these days.” She said. “So I took the load off my colleagues, since I can manage with little to no sleep.”

“Are you sure?” he looked at the bags under her eyes.

She nodded – “I’m fine.”

“Well, since you’re fine and also on a break,“ he gave her a teasing smile when she sighed. “How about a chat?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at Hogwarts? It’s the middle of the school year.”

“Yes, but it’s also Saturday.”

“It is?” she looked exhausted when she checked her watch. “But I’ve been here since Tuesday.”

“Wow, you are tired, aren’t you?” he gave her a concerned look. “I don’t think I have ever seen you tired before.”

“What do you want, Rowan?!” she snapped at him, then immediately added- “Sorry about that.”

“I was wondering, this whole COVID-19-“

“Oh my god.” Luna rubbed her temples. “Are you seriously still hung up on that?”

“It’s just that you never explained exactly what it is and-“

“Rowan, read the fucking paper! This can’t be the only reason you’re here.”

“Well,” he gave her a guilty look. “There might be something else. You see-“

But before he finished the sentence, Luna was called back to the ER.

“I have to go, we’ll talk about it later.” She said and hurried down the corridor without saying goodbye.

“When? When are you done?” he called after her, but she disappeared behind the ER doors. “Yep, let’s talk later, shall we?” he murmured to himself and sat back on the bench next to the reception.

Luna looked out of the window; it was pitch black. She considered the possibility of sleeping in the on-call room again, but knew that if she stayed here, she wouldn’t be able to leave in the morning and she mustn’t neglect her duties as a healer. She took her car keys out of her pocket while exiting the ER, saying good night to the night-shift nurse and head toward the exit, when her eyes landed on her old friend, boringly staring at an old magazine, barely awake.

“What are you still doing here?” she said and automatically checked her watch. “Were you waiting here this whole time?”

“No, I went to the loo once or twice.” He said with a tired voice and let out a long yawn.

“Come on.” She helped him stand up and they both got out of the building into the parking lot. They walked slowly, but neither of them complained. They were too tired at this point to care.

When they got to Oliver Jr., her green 2006 Ford Fiesta, Rowan said – “We’re not really taking this muggle piece of junk, are we?”

“You can apparate if you want.” She said and got into the car, but Rowan followed her. She put on the safety belt and reminded him to do the same.

“Why? What could this piece of leather possibly do if we got into a truly dangerous situation?”

“I don’t want to be fined.” She said as she started the engine. “I couldn’t care less about their ridiculous rules.”

“Didn’t you have a repellent spell against muggles?”

“That was before I started living amongst them.” She said, making sure the mirrors are in check, but it was just an excuse to stall until her brain wakes up enough for her concentrate on driving. “My deal with the Ministry prohibits me from using any type of magic near muggles.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nope.” She yawned one last time before she pressed her foot against the gas pedal and started driving. “I even had to get a driving license.”

“That is absurd.” Rowan shook his head. “What wizard in his right mind would agree to this?”

“The kind that wanted to be a doctor.” She wasn’t offended by what he said, she knew him well enough to know that he had no ill intention behind his words. “Now shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Since when?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Since I became the person that have to tend to the injured in these kind of accidents.”

“Wow, you’re taking this muggle stuff really seriously.” He almost sounded impressed.

“You might say that.” She gave him a tired smile and then looked back at the road. “So how have you been, Professor hot-shot? Your students are doing all right?”

“They are, thank you.” He said with pride. “I don’t want to take all the credit, but most of my students were basically illiterate before they entered to my classroom. Now, my 5th year students are at least an ‘E’ level, freshly ready for the OWLs.”

“You sound more like a mother than a teacher.” She teased.

“Well, you know how I am.” He nodded. “I have this brilliant student, she reminds me of you, doesn’t even have to put an effort, everything comes so easily to her and yet she still does her best. She said it’s because she wants to make me proud. My heart nearly melted.”

“Does she protect you from the bullies as well?” Luna chuckled.

“Don’t even let me start with these rotten apples.” He scrunched his nose. “Always thinking they’re the funniest, don’t care if they lose house point. Nasty little things.”

Luna stopped at a red light behind a large car with loud music blasting out of its windows.

“There is another student-“ but Luna wasn’t paying attention anymore. She saw the car started to move slowly toward the cross road, even though the light was still red.

“Hey.” She called then pressed the car horn, but whoever was in the car probably didn’t hear her. They were still moving in a slow enough pace, but if they keep going, someone might get hurt. “Hey!” she pressed the horn again, but to no avail. She opened the car door and ran toward the other car, knocking on the window to draw the driver’s attention.

Then, with a swift move, she pulled out her wand and brought the car to a stop.

Rowan looked confused. She said she wasn’t supposed to use magic, but it all became clear when Luna opened the door and an unconscious driver fell over her. Rowan hurried out of the car to assist her.

“Can you hear me, sir?” she said loudly when Rowan reached her. She pinched the Trapezius muscle near his neck, that caused the man to jerk and let out a loud grunt, then he slowly opened his eyes.

“Can I do anything to help?” Rowan asked, but Luna shook her head and got back to the muggle, that reeked of liquor.

Luna was about to check his pupils, when the man turned to the side and vomited violently. She used that opportunity to pull out a small device, that wasn’t familiar to Rowan, from her pocket and pressed it to her ear.

“I have to take care of it,” she said to Rowan, the device still pressed to her ear by her shoulder. “Can you get my car out of the way?” she threw her keys at him and went back to the barely conscious and very drunk driver.

Rowan somehow managed to move her car to the side of the road and waited, while Luna kept tending to the man. He knew it would’ve taken a fraction of the time if she only used magic, but since he’s a muggle, her hands were tied. He always knew she had patience, but he still found it impressive.

She helped the man into the backseat of his car, entered the driver’s seat and headed back toward the hospital.

Almost half an hour later, an owl appeared in the sky and just before it landed on the road, it changed form into Luna. She gave Rowan a frustrated look when she got inside the car, obviously in an even worst mood than before. She started the engine and let out a deep sigh before she went back to driving.

They drove in silence until they got out of the city and into the highway, when Luna finally said- “This drunken fucker, I hope he’ll choke on his own damn vomit.” Rowan remained silence while she kept ranting. “Can you believe that arsehole? Getting behind the wheel in his state. Almost as if he wanted to die or he was stupid enough to think that Jesus would drive for him.”

Rowan started to doze off and before he noticed, they already arrived at her house. Luna woke him up and they both slowly headed toward the small cottage. Rowan was too tired to comment on her new house, and after she quickly made the bed for him in the guest room, he collapsed on the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

Luna went up the stairs, trying her best not to wake Mark up, and got into her bedroom.

Finally, she can sleep.

Twenty minutes later, her alarm went off. She barely managed to get out of bed into the shower and put on clean clothes, before she opened the window and flew out in her owl form to her shift in the wizards' hospital.

She got back home around 7 p.m. and was surprised to discover Rowan was still there, casually taking to Mark, who was in the midst of preparing supper.

“What are you still doing here?” she said while she picked an apple and took a bite out of it. “I thought you’d be back at Hogwarts by now, isn’t it a school-night?”

Rowan gave her an irritated look. “I came to see you for a reason, remember?”

“I know, mate, but I have a shift at the muggles’ hospital in an hour and I can really use some sleep.”

“Come on, mum.” Said Mark. “He told me he was waiting almost two days to have a proper chat with you. Can’t you give him five minutes?”

“Thank you, Mark.” Said Rowan. “If only I had this kind of influence on her. She always takes my time for granted-“

“I’m too tired for this.” She said and threw the remains of the apple in the bin. “Give me half an hour, alright?” but she left the room immediately after, not letting him a chance to say anything.

“So you’re staying for supper, then.” Mark gestured at the pots on the cooker.

“Seems like it.” Rowan shrugged.

#future au #hphm #hogwarts mystery #after hogwarts #hphm headcanon #headcanon #luna silver #luna kateřina silver #rowan khanna #mark denton #my art #drawing

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izaswritings · 4 years

Text

all that’s left in the world | chapter five

Title: all that’s left in the world—

Synopsis: —is me.

Neku’s been shot and Shibuya is threatening to go the same way as Shinjuku, but just because the first Game is over doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten how to play.

Or: Neku deals with a nightmare city and his most annoying (and mathematical) partner yet; Shiki and Joshua commit an escalating number of illegal moves, Beat and Eri hunt down a stray Reaper, and Rhyme watches and waits for the counter-attack. Shibuya refuses to go down easy.

Fandom: The World Ends With You | TWEWY

Warnings: references to past canonical character death, self-esteem issues, vague descriptions of an apocalyptic event (Shinjuku at the moment of Inversion, etc), and Joshua, again. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

AO3 Link is here!

Previous chapters are here!

part five: joshua

Joshua opens his eyes to a wasteland.

Beside him Shiki Misaki has fallen to her knees in the dust and dirt, hacking up half a lung; Joshua politely gives her a moment to collect herself like the very considerate and understanding person he is, and steps forward, scanning their surroundings with a frown. Empty streets filled with white dust that clings to his hand like snow; the air smells of nothing, devoid even of the stench of smoke. A low fog has settled over the city, so gray and dense it could be mistaken for a storm, the buildings vacant shells and the roads worn smooth and featureless. It’s more than a ghost town—it’s a city hollowed, its heart destroyed, and Joshua frowns momentarily, picking up his phone, fiddling with the settings.

For the first time, no call goes through. “Interesting,” Joshua decides, and tugs at one lock of hair, twining the strand around his finger.

“W-what is?” Shiki asks, and Joshua tilts his head and snaps his phone closed. Her breath catches. Ah, she’s noticed the city. “Where are we?”

“Shinjuku, I believe,” Joshua says, and even though he’d guessed as much the sight makes him frown, disgruntled. Joshua’s always liked a good Game, but this one promises to try his patience. “Well. What’s left of it, anyway.”

Her eyes scan the wasteland, expression faltering. “That’s impossible,” she says, though she seems half-convinced already. Quick to adapt, isn’t she? Maybe this partnership 2.0 won’t be so boring after all. “That’s... how could this be Shinjuku?”

“Inversion,” Joshua sighs, and when Shiki’s brow furrows at the term he giggles and waves his hand. “A UG phrase. The RG and UG have merged here. The planes have gotten all tangled together—too many frequencies at once.” And, actually, liable to give Joshua a headache. He misses Shibuya’s song already. Ironic, considering his plans for it just last month. “Noise manifest in the RG, reality gets unstable...”

She’s pale. “And this is where Neku is?”

“Mm-hmm.” Joshua shrugs. “Unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“Yeah...” Joshua blinks at her, but Shiki has already stepped away, looking up and down the empty street. “I don’t understand. Where are all the people? And the stores...” She peers into a shop window and blinks fast. “Huh?”

“Oh?” Joshua steps up beside her, peering through the window, and then leans back, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised. “My, my. That’s certainly something.”

The shop is empty. Not just devoid of people, but of anything—the mannequins stripped featureless and bare, even the fake features wiped away. The hangers hold nothing. The stands are empty. Even the picture frames on the wall, the art and decor put up just for flavor, have become hollow, the frames undecorated, the pictures turned to white noise.

Joshua lifts his hand, curious, and presses it against the glass. Against the blank slate of the store, he and Shiki and the colors they wear seem almost like a spotlight. Shinjuku is grey and cold around them, featureless and repetitive. Scrubbed clean of any life at all.

Joshua takes his hand back, frowning outright now. “Hm.”

“That’s so creepy,” Shiki says, drawing back a step. She shivers. “It’s like... anything that would have stood out, or anything that would have meant something...”

“A clean slate,” Joshua agrees, and rests his chin in his hand, thoughtful.

Shiki looks away, apparently unable to keep looking into the empty shop for long. “Is this... normal?” she asks, squinting up at the sky, like if she tries hard enough she’ll be able to see the sun. “For, uh... Inversions?”

Joshua giggles. “I have no idea.” It’d be a delightful mystery, if the situation weren’t so dire. He sobers. “This is the first time I’ve seen it myself. Though, I will admit...” He casts a glance at the sky, too. His eyes narrow. For a moment, there in the clouds... hm. “This doesn’t quite match up with the stories I’ve heard.”

“Creepy,” Shiki repeats.

“Quite.”

She rubs at her arms. “...Let’s go look for Neku.”

Ah, yes. Neku.

Joshua looks back at the shop, no longer smiling. His reflection in the display glass is pale and dim, faintly opaque. As if he isn��t quite there at all. He rubs at his arm, and wonders what Shiki would say if he told her Composers weren’t meant to stay outside of Their city.

Well, what’s done is done—he’s agreed to this, after all, and her reaction probably won’t be all that entertaining. Shiki Misaki, Joshua thinks, is too accepting. Adaptable to an annoying degree. At least Neku had a few moments of wanting to strangle someone before he compromised.

How funny, he thinks. The memory almost makes him want to smile, except he doesn’t feel like laughing at all.

In the dusty glass of the shop window, his own expression looks strange to him. Joshua turns away. He shakes his head and tugs at one bang, then drops his hand and sighs. “Yes,” he says, light. “Works for me. Lead the way, dear.”

She frowns at him, and he smiles back at her uncertain side-eye. And as Shiki picks her way across the city, and Joshua trails after her, he curls his hands to a careful fist, feeling the quiet tremor in his fingers with every step away from Shibuya, and cheerfully pretends that it hasn’t started after all.

It doesn’t take long for the first problem to rear its head. Ten minutes into the Game, Joshua and Shiki encounter their first Noise—and unlike how Noise are supposed to act, this one attacks on sight.

Joshua would suspect Taboo Noise, but no: normal Noise, just ten times more bloodthirsty. Shinjuku is getting more bothersome by the minute.

It takes a moment for them to work together—Joshua is back to summoning beams of light from his cellphone; Shiki apparently likes using her stuffed animal to rip the opposing side to shreds—but in the end, they sync up rather well, if Joshua is any judge. The Noise are nothing but static by the end. Joshua is half-way pleased. He’s missed this.

Shiki doesn’t look nearly so happy, however. At the end of their most recent battle, she kneels in the dust with the cat toy in her lap, staring down at it almost despondently. Joshua weighs his options, sighs, and goes to stand over her shoulder.

“Is this going to be a problem?”

“Maybe.” She opens her hands, glumly; Joshua looks down and tilts his head. “I forgot. Mr. Mew has a ripped seam. He’s fine for me to carry him, but...”

On second look... Joshua can see it. He presses his lips. “I hope you don’t expect me to do all the work,” he warns, coolly. “I hate working up a sweat, and this endeavor was your idea, Shiki.”

If she’s bothered by the over-familiar use of her first name, it barely even seems to register. Then again, she did offer. “Maybe I could stitch him up?” she wonders. “But I don’t have the right thread... I was going to buy some tomorrow...”

Joshua frowns at her, but Shiki isn’t even looking at him, mumbling under her breath. After a moment, he sighs—and reaches out, picking away one of the pins she’s clipped to her cardigan. He turns it in his hands, thoughtful. “Do you have any idea how you control him?”

She glances at him, startled, then looks uncertain. “Eh...”

He giggles, and flashes the pin at her. “Groove Pawn,” he tells her. “It’s a form of psychokinesis. You didn’t know?”

“Really?” She glances at the stuffed toy in her hands. “It always felt more like Mr. Mew was just doing his own thing.”

Interesting. “Maybe so, but without you to provide guidance, it wouldn’t be nearly as effective. It could be that your familiarity with the medium creates a stronger control of it... less direct commands, and more obeying of the implied commands—what you know you need?” Joshua tugs at his hair. “Hmm. You made him, yes?”

“Mr. Mew?” She hugs the stuffed animal to her chest. “Yes. Why?”

Joshua’s getting an idea. He smiles. “And your clothes?”

“I made those too, but why...?” She trails off, eyes widening. “You think—?”

“Worth a shot, isn’t it?”

She studies her sleeves, frowning slightly, considering. “I don’t know...”

“Try it,” Joshua cajoles. “Your pins will work here. The one nice thing about the merge between planes is that the Noise frequency isn’t needed to activate the pins. Lucky you.” Which is perhaps the only advantage they have in all this. But, regardless.

Shiki looks uncertain, but one last glance at Mr. Mew and her jaw firms. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.” She rises to her feet, hand outstretched, and takes a breath. “Here goes!”

Silence. Nothing happens.

Joshua spins a strand of hair between his fingers. “...Have you considered—”

Thread cuts through the air like a whistling blade. Shiki screams.

Joshua, for his part, blinks over at what used to be a wall, and whistles through his teeth. “Wow,” he says, honestly impressed. “That’s going to be incredibly useful. Nice to see that you can pull your own weight after all, hm?”

Shiki doesn’t appear to be listening, but then, that’s little surprise. Her cardigan has been unraveled up to her elbow; the loose thread of the sleeve has reached long past its actual length and cut apart the air, slipping through stone like a hot knife through ice.

It’s like a net, Joshua thinks, and circles her, intrigued. It really is something. If she concentrates the threads, and focuses the force onto one impact point, she could cut right through the core of a larger Noise. Even the net of thread could cut apart quite a few of the smaller Noise, too... my, he thinks. Could she catch one? Fascinating.

His musing gets cut off by the loud, creaking groan of breaking stone. Shiki’s eyes go wide. Joshua looks up, startled, and steps back just in time to avoid a bit of rubble falling on his foot, as the building Shiki hit creaks, tilts, sways, and then ultimately tips back and falls apart into a burst of dust and debris.

Silence. Joshua stares. The building just behind the first, now walled off with ruin, also creaks, and then caves inward with a crash.

“Oh my god,” Shiki says, eyes wide and horrified behind her glasses. “Is that okay!?”

“…It’s fine,” Joshua says. A beat. He considers the rubble. “Well, maybe.”

There’s another pause, almost thoughtful. A wall on a third building goes loose and spills out onto the road. In the distance there is the sound of falling rocks. A small pebble rolls from the pile, taps Shiki’s shoe, and then falls sadly on its side.

Shiki covers her face.

“Useful, anyhow,” Joshua decides.

“Maybe this was a bad idea…” Shiki sighs, rubbing at her face. Then she lifts up her head— and at last seems to get a full look at her unraveled cardigan, because she blanches, and holds out her arms in horror. “Oh, no, my sleeve! I spent days on this!”

“I’m sure you can put it back.”

“Oh, you think?” She takes a breath, focusing again, and Joshua watches with interest as the thread pries loose from the rubble pile, pooling together and re-weaving back into the cardigan. Shiki peeks one eye open. “Did it work?” Pause. “It worked!”

Joshua claps for her. “Well done.”

She beams, then seems to remember who she’s smiling at and visibly falters. Joshua giggles at her. What a face!

“Um, thanks.”

“No problem at all.”

She tucks the stuffed cat in her arms, hugging it close as if in comfort, staring down at the ground. She bites her lip, then shakes her head and exhales hard. “I… never mind. I guess we should keep moving.”

He gestures. She looks at him for a very long moment, then nods and takes the lead, walking down into a small back-alley street.

Joshua follows leisurely behind her, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his phone. He tries to place another call, but isn’t surprised when it fails once again. Well, he’s glad to still have the camera, at least, though he’ll have to be careful of its use. If he could find Shinjuku’s Room of Reckoning… though unfortunately, he has no idea where the Composer of Shinjuku might be located.

Hm.

He fiddles with it some more, as they walk, and the rest of the day passes by in routine—travel, fight the Noise that converge on them, move on. Joshua gets more in-tune with this new partner, and finds to some delight that their attacks mix well. Shiki is focused, direct, and methodical, as expected of her talent as a seamstress; she attacks her enemies one hit at a time until it falls, and then moves on to the next. Matched with Joshua’s habit of just blasting a general area and catching as many Noise as possible in the light, it covers a lot of ground. He flattens the ones he can without frying his phone—and she, in turn, picks off the stragglers.

After one such battle, Joshua touches to the ground and turns to smile at her, far more genuinely than before. He can say this for Shiki Misaki— in addition to being a living wrench in the works of Joshua’s plan, she’s also just a genuinely talented Player.

“This might just work,” he tells her, cheery, and toes a line in the soft dusting of ash lining Shinjuku’s streets. “I’ll admit, I had my doubts.”

She glances back at him, looking more confused than offended. “Then... why did you agree?”

“Hm.” Joshua tilts his head. “Why indeed?”

Silence, for a moment. Shiki’s expression flattens a little. “Okay. So you’re not going to tell me.”

It’s a little cruel, maybe, but this girl’s already thrown the first stone, back in the Shibuya River; really, this should be expected. “What makes you think you deserve the answer?”

His word choice is deliberate, and Shiki, of all people, sensitive enough to catch the subtext—her steps stutter, and she tugs the stuffed cat closer. “I... I didn’t mean it like that.” She eyes him again. Her fingers tighten. “You’re rude.”

He shrugs. “It’s an honest question. Really, Shiki, you haven’t changed much at all, have you?” He eyes her. “Wanting recognition is all well and good, but don’t go expecting it from me.”

She falters, steps stuttering in the dust. Joshua keeps walking, humming lightly. She doesn’t follow. He turns around. “We don’t have much time to waste,” he chides. “If you could, Shiki...?”

“How did you know that?” Her voice is tight. “How did you—”

“Composer,” he reminds her. “It’s my Game. I put in the entry fee requirement in the first place, you know.” Not for the reasons she probably thinks, but then, Joshua’s never claimed to teach kind lessons. “And you were Neku—my proxy’s—partner. Of course I kept an eye out.”

“Of course,” she echoes, a little hollowly. “So—so you know...”

That she is jealous? That she wants to be more than herself? That Shiki Misaki wants to be popular, and important, and at the center of it all? That she wants so much for herself she came to seethe at others who she thought stood above her?

Joshua knows a lot of things people wish he didn’t know.

“I do, yes.” He considers her, and sighs a little. She’s stepped on his toes, so to speak, but Joshua can relent where need be. “If it’s any consolation, you have changed.” Neku’s choice hadn’t been the only factor influencing Joshua’s unintended change of heart regarding Shibuya, though Joshua is never going to admit that out loud. “If this Game had an entry fee, yours would no longer be yourself.”

Green is a good color for Shiki Misaki. She’s still envious, even now. But it doesn’t fester in her anymore. She has come to learn her own strengths, started to realize her own Imagination— the value of herself. And Joshua will never, ever say it aloud, but he can admire that, a little. If all the world is secret gardens, then hers is finally growing again, no longer crushed beneath her own heel.

Shiki looks down like she can’t decide whether to be happy or offended about his words. Joshua shrugs and turns away. “It would probably be that ‘friend’ of yours,” he continues knowingly, and grins, a little wry. “Or maybe Neku?” The idea of Coco’s plot getting upended by something as a simple as an entry fee makes him snicker. “What a plot twist that would be, hm?”

“W-what?” And then her head snaps up, eyes wide behind the lens. “Wait, oh my gosh—entry fees— I completely forgot—” She stops, and visibly rewinds the conversation in her head. “There isn’t one?”

“Thankfully.” People really aren’t meant to play the Game more than once; Joshua shudders to think how much of Shibuya would have vanished if Neku’s fee had been taken again. “It’s more than the RG and UG merge. Whatever Game we’re playing...”

Shiki looks stunned. “There’s no Reapers.”

“Did you just notice? Well, anyway. That’s right. No Reapers, no walls, no mission mail...” Joshua frowns a little. “I’m... a little uncertain if anyone’s in charge of this Game at all.”

“What about that Reaper girl? Coco?”

“Let me reword. No one official, at any rate.” He leaves it at that, but deep down, Joshua can’t deny he’s getting uneasy. There is too much off—too much lack. A Composer encroaching on another’s territory is a heinous crime, and bringing an illegal Player with him? Even with his powers limited by sheer virtue of being outside Shibuya, that should have warranted some interaction, if nothing else. But no— instead they have been walking undisturbed, the city silent as a grave.

The Music gone.

It’s as if there is no Composer at all, Joshua thinks, but then—how is that possible? If the Composer were killed, both power and title would transfer to the killer; if the Composer were captured... well, the city still wouldn’t be like this. The power would live on and the Music continue. But this... what has happened to Shinjuku...

For once, Joshua can honestly admit he has no idea what’s going on. It’s kind of annoying.

“Either way,” Joshua says, with finality. “It’s not for you to know.” He smiles at her. “May we get moving again?”

And just like that, her hackles are back up. Sigh. “I’m just trying to be nice!” she snaps back, fierce. “Though I’m not sure you deserve it.” Her voice lowers. “You’re as bad as Neku was. We’re partners.”

“That’s a bit rude,” Joshua says, amused.

“Still. We made a pact. You could at least act like it. We have to work together!”

Joshua stares at her, a little disgruntled; Shiki crosses her arms and tilts up her chin and glares right back. For a moment Joshua considers pushing the issue, or perhaps ignoring her and continuing on anyway... and then, just as quickly, his annoyance fades, dull and tired. Joshua looks away first.

Shiki Misaki, Neku’s first partner in the game. Neku has learned a lot from her. And Joshua, though he is still only just able to admit this to himself, has learned from Neku in turn.

Joshua sighs heavily, the sound as loud as he can make it, and lifts a hand to his hair, tugging at the strands. “Oh, fine,” he says, only a little sullen, because he has learned something from his time playing his own Game and to pretend otherwise is probably beneath him, or something. “If you really want to know, I’m beginning to suspect this Game doesn’t have a Composer at all.”

Shiki looks a little stunned. Possibly she never expected him to admit anything; Joshua tries not to feel too offended about that. After all, if this were a month ago, she’d be right. (If this were a month ago, he wouldn’t have accepted her deal in the first place— but that’s not important either.) “Oh,” she says. “...Oh. Someone—someone killed Shinjuku’s Composer?”

Joshua clicks his tongue. “Not quite,” he says. “Killing the Composer wouldn’t cause an Inversion. Neither,” he adds when Shiki opens her mouth, “would kidnapping, or anything else of the like. This city has no Music. It’s silent. It is…” And this Joshua doesn’t like to admit, because the very idea is enough to make his skin crawl, but it’s the truth: “It’s as if it has no Imagination at all.”

“Um,” Shiki says. “Which is... bad?”

“You remember that storefront?” he asks her. “Yes, it’s bad. Imagination is what the entire UG runs on.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Exactly.” He huffs, irritated. “Unfortunately, whatever happened, I’m rather in the dark. This event has very thoroughly erased any clues left behind.”

Shiki frowns, looking thoughtful. “Is there a place for Shinjuku like there was for Shibuya? A river?”

“Of sorts. I don’t know where it is, though.” Unfortunately. Joshua likes mysteries, actually, but it’s a bit more fun when there’s actual clues to follow.

“I remember the Noise around the river were pretty strong. The station underpass in general, too. Like they were just drawn there…” Shiki holds the stuffed cat in both hands, looking down at it. It’s almost as if she expects the cat to talk back to her; Joshua stifles a grin. “I wonder if we could ride on them.”

Joshua blinks. Backtracks. “On. The Noise?”

She looks a little red, but shrugs. “I mean, could we?”

He almost laughs, but then he makes the mistake of thinking about it. With the thread… and, well, Joshua understands the Noise better than anyone else, so…

There’s a long pause. Joshua looks over to the Noise, far off down the street. He thinks about it some more. And it is with great regret when he says, at last: “Mm. Better not.”

Mr. H would never let him live it down. Also, less importantly, “While stronger Noise tend to gather around the Composer’s place, it’s not exactly a homing beacon. It won’t lead us to the Composer.”

Disappointing, though.

Shiki hums, but seems to accept that, tapping her finger to her chin. “Then maybe...” She trails off, brow furrowing. “If not the Composer, we could find where it all centered? Like the Inversion? It had to start somewhere, right...?”

She sounds uncertain, but Joshua straightens up. He’s not entirely sure the issue of Shinjuku’s Composer and the Inversion are so directly linked, but if one mystery can’t be solved, it stands to reason they should move on to the next. “It must have.” He tilts his head, then grins. “Ah-ha. I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

Joshua is already on his phone, flipping through the settings. When she approaches, he generously doesn’t shoo her off. “Here,” he says, and tilts the screen to her. The idea has emboldened him; his foot taps lightly on the ground. Finally, a place to start. He has no doubt they’ll run into Neku on the way there, if he gets this right. Neku usually finds himself in the center of a disaster. “A while back I had a few... adjustments made to my phone. I never did remove them. This camera can take pictures of the past.” He waves the phone at her, grinning outright now. “Pick a direction, dear.”

Behind her glasses, Shiki’s eyes are wide. She claps her hands in front of her face. “Oh! So if the Inversion started somewhere, we can see what direction it came from?”

Her excitement is rather charming. Neku never got nearly as involved in the everyday mysteries as Joshua did; this response feels pretty gratifying, honestly. “Exactly! I’m impressed.”

She giggles, a little. “This is so exciting. I feel like I’m in a detective movie.” She spins on her heel, stuffed cat swinging from one hand, finger tapping her chin. She points down a random street, a once-main road turned hollow. “How about there?”

“As good a place to start as any, I suppose.” Joshua snaps the photo—he already knows the time they need, thankfully. Shiki leans over his shoulder; Joshua eyes her briefly, then sighs and lets it go. He opens the photo.

Oh, how fun. White light, the buildings crumbling, terrified people beginning to fade out... but it is vague, source-less, and impossible to tell the direction from which it’s coming from.

Shiki blinks at it, though, her eyes flicking from photo to the ruins and back again. “Oh, I know that building! Isetan department store… I went with Eri once.” She frowns a little. “Hmm. So we’re near the station?”

“Valuable info, but not quite what we were looking for… Well, two more photos left.” Joshua tilts the camera. “Choose wisely.”

“Uh... well, if we’re near the station, um, maybe the government building? Oh, where was it…” Shiki squints down a street. “There?”

Joshua snaps the photo, then sighs. Shiki frowns too. He’ll give her this much: she’d been right about the direction; he can see the tip of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and even some of Park Tower, but beyond the vague reddish light and screaming people, nothing indicates the epicenter of the event. Tsk.

“Last one,” Shiki checks, and at Joshua’s nod, worries at her lip. “Hm...”

Joshua considers it. His finger taps against the case. After a moment, his eyes flicker up. He’s never known Shinjuku too well, even when he was alive; he’d stayed in Shibuya most of his life, and then the entirety of his afterlife. “Have you been to Shinjuku before?”

“Well... once or twice. Not as often as Shibuya. Uh, mainly around the station. Why?”

He frowns at the screen, not really seeing it. “Can you guess where the center of the city might be?”

“That’s...” She trails off. Her brow furrows. “Um. Maybe? One second.” She takes a deep breath. “Er... where’s Shibuya from here?”

This, Joshua could answer in his sleep. He is so aware of the city it nearly dizzies him; he smiles to hide the sudden tremor in his arms. Ah, it really does set in quick, doesn’t it?

“To our right,” Joshua says lightly, and cheerfully ignores the headache spiking behind his eyes.

“Okay.” She bites her lip. “Then... from there, to... and then turn left... by Golden Gai, maybe…?” She trails her eyes across the ruined landscape and finally settles for a direction slightly north-east from them. “There? I think. It’s hard to tell, with the buildings all... you know.”

“That’s good enough,” Joshua decides. He lines up the image. Then he pauses. For a moment he frowns. And then, not entirely sure why, he lifts the camera, taking in not just the street and the buildings but also the sky, high above.

He takes the shot.

His fingers tighten. His smile widens, but there’s no joy in it at all. “Bingo.”

“Yes!” She looks at the photo. Her eyes go wide. “...What?”

The photo is exactly what they need, but neither is it a welcome sight. The distant high-rise of the buildings is turning to dust and ash. People are cowering in the streets, covering their heads. A pale white light, tinged faintly bloody with red, shines out through all the streets with a piercing glow.

And high above, settled in the sky like a brand, the Reaper’s skull bears down on the city, blood red and burning bright.

“Interesting,” Joshua murmurs, and thumbs the phone off. “I believe we just got our first clue.”

Shiki bites her lip, then seems to shake herself. “We know where to start looking, now. So that’s good.” She brightens, a little. “And Neku’s sure to be there! He gets in too much trouble not to find it himself.” She’s smiling outright now, and pumps a fist to the air, triumphant, turning to Joshua with delight. “We did it!”

He giggles at her enthusiasm, and her smile falters, falling awkward and flat. Her eyes catch on his face and she seems to remember who she’s talking to for the first time. Her smile fades. Her fist lowers.

Joshua considers her, shrugs, and turns away to mess with his phone. His hands are still annoyingly shaky from earlier. He doesn’t speak. Shiki doesn’t say anything either. The silence stretches.

When it’s clear she’s not going to break, Joshua sighs again and closes his phone, looking down at the case briefly before tucking it back into his pocket. “You really don’t like me, do you?” Joshua muses, and tucks his hands in his pockets. “What stories Neku must have told you, I wonder.”

“He told me enough.” Her voice is quiet again. “But you already knew about that.”

He hums, not really answering. Another silence. This time, Shiki looks away.

“I can’t forgive you,” she announces, apropos of nothing, eyes on her stuffed animal. She hugs it close. “Which sounds silly, doesn’t it? Considering you never did anything to me. But even if Neku does forgive you, one day, I don’t think I ever will.” Joshua keeps his eyes on the skyline, and half an eye on her; he sees her fingers tighten. “I don’t know why you did it, and even if I did, I don’t think I really care.”

Something hardens in her voice. Joshua waits, patiently, for her to finish. “Your point?” he prompts.

Her jaw clenches, and for the first time she seems truly angry with him. “You hurt Neku. You hurt him— a lot. I remember that much. He was crying. I’d never seen him cry before. You did that.” I’m aware, Joshua thinks. Her eyes are fixed on the ground, now. “And you hurt him after it was over, too.”

Joshua frowns, briefly, the barest flicker of an expression, and Shiki looks up and smiles at the sight, an expression that is half-hearted and small and not very happy at all. “Yeah. I figured you didn’t know about that one. Neku doesn’t either, I don’t think. But he— he wanted to see you again, you know? No matter my feelings on it, that’s still true. Maybe he just wanted to hit you, or yell at you—um, maybe he just wanted answers?” She shrugs. “Maybe all three. But he did want to see you again. Whenever we meet up, he’s always getting distracted, looking for someone else. And I’m not stupid. I can guess.”

He has stayed silent thus far out of some amused hope of getting this out of her system; now Joshua is regretting that. There is something ashy on his tongue, settled cold in his throat. He takes a thin breath and exhales it slowly, like a test.

“You never came,” Shiki says, simply, a little harder. She’s looking at him, Joshua can tell, but he keeps his gaze turned away, fixed on the sky. “Maybe you meant that as a kindness? I don’t know. That doesn’t really matter either. Because it hurt him either way.”

Another pause. Joshua closes his eyes, opens them, and then finally looks back at her. She glares at him—not angry anymore, not really, just stubborn, stiff and holding her ground. He considers her.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Shiki says, at last, reluctantly. Joshua raises an eyebrow at her. She huffs. “Which kind of makes it worse, maybe. But I don’t. Neku doesn’t either, otherwise he wouldn’t be trying so hard.” Her chin lifts, determined. “You probably aren’t sorry for what happened. You’ll probably never say it; it’s not really my business. But Neku’s trying. I don’t know why, but he is—and you know, if nothing else, you could stand to try too.”

Joshua doesn’t say anything. She’s caught him off-guard with this—of all things, this is not what he was expecting her to say. And maybe that is Joshua’s fault. Hasn’t he learned this lesson already? Isn’t that why Shibuya’s still standing? They lost the Game, all of them, Neku and Shiki and the Bito siblings; they lost the game, but they had changed his mind. They had surprised him. They had changed him in turn too, even if Joshua still doesn’t quite know how to admit it.

“Just a thought,” Shiki says, hotly, and this time she’s the one to turn away. “I don’t know if you even… N-never mind. This was stupid, I told myself I wouldn’t— let’s just go.”

How silly. All of his little asides, and yet this is what riles her up. It probably shouldn’t surprise him. She’s broken into a Reaper’s Game just for the chance to help; likely Joshua should have seen this coming. It’s still annoying, though. Why has he agreed to this again?

But he doesn’t move. He feels weary, and strangely drained, and he pinches at the bridge of his nose with a quiet exhale. Hah. He could say he’s still not sure why, but then, that would be lying, wouldn’t it? And while Joshua is rather good at lying to himself, he prefers not to make a habit of it.

He thinks, once, he would have been angry at this. He’s not sure what to make of the fact he’s not. He’s not sure what to say at all, actually—and isn’t that funny? That doesn’t happen often either.

Mostly he just feels tired.

Joshua watches Shiki walk away, and lingers there, at the edge of the sidewalk. His gaze draws back, turning away toward Shibuya; he looks past the ruined buildings to the streets that are His and His alone. He taps his fingers against his thigh. Trying, he thinks.

But there is no time. And so Joshua pulls his gaze away, and leaves Shibuya and his thoughts behind him.

#twewy #the world ends with you #joshua kiryu #yoshiya kiryu #shiki misaki #neku sakuraba #joshneku #twewy fic #iza fanfic #fic: all that's left in the world

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westannatasharomanoff · 4 years

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THG AU Chapter 13

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

* 6 months after winning the games, Natasha was dreading her victory tour. She finally knew what Bruce meant when he said it was terrible to be revered for being the only survivor of a glorified massacre of children. If Yelena were here, she’d be Natasha’s best source of moral support, but she had been dead for two and a half years at this point. Still, she had Clint. He was basically her brother. The only good thing about this whole tour thing was going to be seeing Bruce again. She managed to convince her escort, Loki, to let her stay in 3 a bit longer to “ Get to know the locals.” Natasha stood up off of her hill and walked down to her house (where she lived alone with Liho) to hone her chosen skill. The hobby she chose was ballet, and she was really enjoying it. *

Natasha: Well, Liho, I should probably start packing for my victory tour. The train comes at 8 AM tomorrow and I don’t want to be late.

* Natasha got on the train and saw a lot of familiar faces. Her mentor, Nick Fury; her escort, Loki Odinson; her stylist, Gamora Zen-Titan; and her prep team, (Drax, Peter, and Mantis.)*

Natasha: (To her stylist and prep team) What are you guys doing here?

Gamora: My father forced me to be here because I was your stylist for the games and now I’m basically your personal fashion designer.

Mantis: We’re here to make sure you look good no matter where we are!

Drax: You’ll have a different outfit for each district based on the weather.

Peter: I hope you’re ready to blow everyone away!

Loki: You do have all of your speeches finished, right?

Natasha: *holds up notebook* Yeah. I have them right here.

Loki: Also, why did you want an extra half hour in three but no extra time anywhere else?

Natasha: I made friends with one of the victors. I just want to talk to him a bit to see how he’s doing.

Fury: So the talking to him on the phone every single day isn’t enough for you?

Natasha: It’s just not the same. Nothing compares to seeing a friend in person.

Fury: Right... a friend.

*Nick Fury knew what was going on. They were together. And they probably had been for a lot longer than they even claimed to know each other. Still, Nick decided to keep quiet as it was probably a matter of safety. *

*Natasha arrived in District 3 right on schedule. Natasha’s stylist and prep team got her ready to do her speech.*

Loki: Okay, is everybody ready? Good. Now remember, these people probably remember you because you saved that kid. What was his name? Sammy? So they’ll probably want to talk to you. If you feel bombarded at any point in time, you can go to a less crowded area as long as you are back on the train within an hour. Understood?

Natasha: Yes.

*Natasha gave her speech and talked to a few people while she tried to find Bruce. She found him and they ran behind a building where nobody could see them. *

Bruce: *hugging her* How are you? I feel like it’s been forever. Is your tour going well?

Natasha: The tour is bringing back terrible memories, but at least nobody can tell.

Bruce: Well, you gave an amazing speech.

Natasha: I’m so glad we got time to talk. It was nearly impossible to convince Loki to give me an extra half hour here.

Bruce: I’m glad you did.

*They sat down on a bench and continued talking and holding hands until she had to leave. They kissed each other goodbye and she ran back to the train.*

Loki: Natasha! You are a minute late! I said be back here within an hour! What if we’re late to District 2 now?

Natasha: We’re expected to arrive in District 2 six hours early.

Loki: Still, I expect punctuality from all of you.

Natasha: Sorry. It won’t happen again.

Loki: It better not.

Natasha: I’ll see you guys at dinner.

*Natasha went to her personal sleeping car ( It was basically a bedroom on wheels.) and sat on her bed. She couldn’t believe she had to wait another six months to see Bruce again. She sat there playing with Liho for about two hours until she heard a knock at her door.*

Fury: Romanoff! What the hell were you thinking?!

Natasha: What was I thinking when?

Fury: Come in here and look at the news.

Natasha: Okay... *She walks into the “living room” car and sees a picture of her kissing Bruce on the screen.* What?! How did they get that picture?!

Lady on the screen: All rumors of a romance between Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were put to rest today when footage revealing who our newest victor has actually fallen for was released to the public by The Capitol. The pair met six months ago following her victory in The Hunger Games.

Natasha: Oh no. This is bad. This is really really bad. The Capitol doesn’t like people from different districts getting together! What if they already had him killed?

Gamora: The Capitol had to approve this and air it, remember?

*Natasha breathes a sigh of relief.*

Fury: Still, you should have been more careful. You’re going to be even more in the public eye than before. If you thought you needed to watch your step before, you haven’t seen anything yet.

Lady on the screen: I’m sure you’re all just as eager as I am to see more of Panem’s newest perfect pair.

* Bruce heard a knock at his door two hours after the story about him and Natasha aired. He opened the door to see a tall purple man standing outside of his house.*

Thanos: I am Thanos, the closest advisor to President Snow and I am here with a message from the president himself. You are allowed to be with Natasha, but on our terms.

Bruce: What are your terms?

Thanos: You do as we say, not one step out of line. Remember, everyone is always watching, so whenever you two are together, you need to be the perfect couple. Holding hands, hugging, sitting close, and anything else you can do to make sure the public thinks you are madly in love.

Bruce: We are madly in love.

Thanos: So this should be easy for you. If you go against us in any way, well... let’s just say that Natasha won’t be the first former victor to be lost in a tragic accident. Oh, and one more thing. This conversation never happened, unless you want both Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark dead.

Bruce: I understand. Will that be all?

Thanos: No. You’re coming back to The Capitol with me. President Snow wants you at the party we are having in Natasha’s honor at the end of her victory tour. The people want to see more of you two, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint them. Pack your things, you’ll be home in four days.

*The next two days of the victory tour go pretty well. Before they knew it, they were in The Capitol.*

Loki: I hope you are ready for the biggest party you’ve ever attended!

Gamora: She just needs to get dressed and have her hair, nails, and makeup done.

* Natasha went into the bathroom of her hotel room in The Capitol to see how she looked. Her dress was red with a white cardigan, white tights, and shiny black heels. Her hair was loosely curled and pulled into a low ponytail with a black satin bow. Her nails were red. She had a smokey eye with wing liner and blood red lipstick. *

Natasha: I’m ready!

Loki: Excellent. Let’s get into position for your big entrance.

*At the party*

Loki: Now please make way for our guest of honor, Natasha Romanoff!

*Natasha enters the party with Loki and Nick Fury. Everyone is dancing and there is so many different kinds of food. The decorations are show stopping. *

Natasha: This is the biggest party I have ever seen.

Loki: And it’s all for you!

Natasha: What should I do first?

Fury: In my experience, you grab a pate of food and mingle with the other guests. Whatever you do, don’t take the drinks they hand out on the square platters. They make you sick so you can keep eating. I mistakenly drank one in front of everyone at my party, and I’m hoping to spare you the embarrassment.

Natasha: They make themselves sick? That is disgusting and vile in more ways than one.

Fury: You’re right, but don’t dwell on it. Go, enjoy your party.

*Natasha took Nick’s advice and mingled with the guests. She decided to try a red drink from a round platter. As she was enjoying her drink, she felt a hand on her shoulder.* Bruce: Excuse me, Miss. Romanoff? Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?

Natasha: *turns around* Bruce!

Bruce: In the flesh.

Natasha: *hugging him* What are you doing here?

Bruce: President Snow helped arrange this so I could surprise you!

Natasha: Snow arranged this? Why?

Bruce: Never mind that, just dance with me! We’re together, does it really matter why?

Natasha: I guess not.

*They danced together, much to the excitement of the party guests. After that, they decided to sit on the edge of a fountain and share a plate of snacks. *

Bruce: So, has anything changed in the past three days?

Natasha: Yeah, the entire country knows about our relationship.

Bruce: *grabbing her hand* You scared?

Natasha: A little, but I know I’ll be fine as long as I have you.

Bruce: Well then you’re in luck because you’ll always have me.

Natasha: Do you promise?

Bruce: I promise. *kisses her forehead* Now, let’s enjoy the rest of your party.

*They spend the rest of the party right next to each other, holding hands. Bruce followed Natasha as she answered questions and met Capitol citizens. That night, they realized their rooms were right next to each other. *

Natasha: Well, goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning before I go back to 12.

Bruce: Yeah, goodnight. *he kisses her* I love you.

Natasha: I love you too. Now get some sleep.

*Natasha knew Bruce was acting weird. She just didn’t know why. That night, she had another nightmare. She’d been having them practically every night since the games, but she still wasn’t used to them. She petted Liho for comfort and decided that she’d probably sleep better if she wasn’t alone.*

Natasha: Should I? No. No, I should let him sleep. He already had to deal with me for a whole week right after the games. *she hears a knock at her door* Who could that be? *she opens the door*

Bruce: Hey Nat. Can I come in?

Natasha: Of course. Honestly, I was just going to see you. I had a nightmare.

Bruce: So did I.

*They fell asleep together. The next morning, they both went home. Natasha gave her speech in 12, officially ending her victory tour. *

If you want me to continue this, please let me know. Feel free to send any requests for other things you want to see. I have a prompts list and an AU list linked in my pinned post. I will write anything marvel that isn’t incest or pedophilia.

#brutasha #brucenat #the hunger games au #the hunger games #hulkwidow #the incredible hulk #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #avengers

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tabby-shieldmaiden · 3 years

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Another one for Friday Night Fights! The challenge hosted by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor . This one is a little weird, and admittedly was both inspired by me binging Girl Defined response videos, as well as my experiences at Church. It’s also written in second person, with the viewpoint character being a ‘nice church girl’. So, just a heads up.

Be a nice church girl.

You wake up Sunday morning, early enough to watch the beautiful sunrise that God had painted across the sky. Cheerfully, you get out of bed. You didn’t even have to set an alarm clock, because getting up at dawn on Sunday is just a habit to you. Of course it doesn’t bother you at all. You plan out your entire week around the couple of hours you spend in Church. Obviously you’d have slept early the previous evening. It is for your Father in Heaven after all.

You brush your pearly white teeth, carefully scrubbing over each one. They were white and shiny teeth. Of course they had to be. In Church, you could only be seen smiling. And no other expression could really be sufficient there. Before God, you simply had to present your best self, and what better way is there to exist in? Happy, cheerful, a delight. You simply were overjoyed to be there.

Your hair and makeup done. Perfected. Just feminine enough to be perceived as a perfectly charming woman. But not too flamboyant to the point where you would stick out. You pick out your outfit next. A simple dress. Floral patterned. A matching baby pink cardigan. White ballet flats of a fairly modest design. Nothing too sparkly, nothing too flashy. Just something simple but feminine. After all, it’s not like you go to Church to draw attention to yourself. All of this is to simply honour God. This was what everyone in Church wore, because it was modest, but presentable. And most importantly, no one would stick out. No one would individuate.

From your dresser, you reach for a simple gold chain. Then a simple set of earrings. They were fake pearls, which did make you a little upset. Because you knew a number of the other girls in Church had real pearl earrings and you knew you couldn’t exactly afford them. You prayed that God would help you with your sin of envy. After all, at the very least you did have those fake pearl earrings. Cheap-looking and uncomfortable as they are. You sometimes wished that you didn’t need to wear them. But alas, the look simply wouldn’t be complete without it.

You subconsciously catch yourself chewing your nail, but once you caught yourself you stopped. It was a bad habit. You knew. And after all that work you put into painting your nails, taking care of them, you really wanted to keep them in good condition. Just like how every other woman in Church had nice nails. They all sported evenly painted, unchipped nails. Your hands still shook every time you painted them.

People commented on your nail biting. How it was unhygienic, unsanitary, gross. You knew they just wanted what was best for you. It wasn’t like they were unconcerned. And anyways, they did have a point, didn’t they? Nail polish smelled horrible, but you soldiered through it to apply it on anyways. Maybe someday, you’ll get good enough at nail polish, so that when you see your nails, you would not feel the need to chew them.

You eat breakfast, and when you do you don’t drink coffee. Who really needs sustenance like that? All you really needed in life was the energy which God provides you with. Every day, you can just sleep your planned eight hours, no problem. God provides you with the discipline to stick to your daily schedule. This was no problem. Nothing was impossible for God.

Hail a cab to Church. Quickly, you made it. Everyone there is smiling, dressed in their Sunday best.

The men looked handsome and dashing in their suits and ties. The women looked beautiful and charming in their modest skirts and dresses. Everyone grins at you when you arrive. You talk about current events. Your families and your jobs; their children, nephews, nieces; sports; the weather; any gossip about other members of the congregation. All very engaging topics which you never used to be particularly interested in, but have found to be absolutely fascinating to talk about. The gossip especially, was a bad habit. But well, we all do fall short of the glory of God. He would surely forgive you.

You found it difficult to differentiate the people around you. You walked up to someone in an orange dress with shoulder length wavy hair, expecting it to be your friend Clara. Instead, it was Elizabeth. You walked up to a tall man with neatly gelled hair and a red tie, and you thought that he was Michael. But it was actually Joseph. It was a little embarrassing. But they were all good sports about it. That was something difficult you frequently had to deal with. Especially in Church. Navigating everyone, because for some odd reason you often had trouble differentiating the people around you.

Well, some people were easier to differentiate than others. Case in point...

In the corner, reading a book with a smiling dragon on the cover, sat a young girl in a baggy hoodie and a pair of ragged jeans. Her earphones were firmly plugged into her ears. She was listening to music. No one was talking to her, and she didn’t seem particularly bothered by that.

You could only sigh when you saw her. She had been like that for a long time. There had probably been a time when she was a cheerful, sociable child. But now all she did was hang back and keep to herself, which would not do at all. God had commanded us all to be a friend. So you figured you really ought to go over and talk to her. You think you remember her name - Rebecca, if you’re not wrong - so you head over to her, a wide, pearly white grin on your face.

“Hi, Rebecca,” you say. Your voice chipper and loud enough so that she may hear you over her music. It worked to get her attention. She looked up from her book, and pulled out her headphones. You smile. That’s at least some progress. She’s paying attention to the world around her now.

“Hi,” she said. She closes her book, but places a finger on the page where she left off. She shot you a fairly neutral expression. Neither a smile nor a frown could be seen on her face. Her lips were instead a perfectly straight line. Behind her glasses, her eyes just looked puzzled at why you were there.

You continued smiling. She smiled back, but only by slightly turning the corners of her mouth up. That was another step in the right direction! Smiling was good! Especially smiling in the house of God! Surely, no one had any real reason as to why that was supposed to be a bad thing. You slide beside her, sit next to her at the pew, and continue talking. “So, how have you been lately?”

“Okay,” she said. And then nothing else. Not a ‘how about you?’ or any other elaboration beyond that. That was upsetting. You remember a time back in your past when you were like that. But you soon learned the proper way to talk, hold a conversation. Thanks to all the people who taught you how to talk correctly. Soon, maybe Rebecca would catch on too.

You figured that, at least for now, maybe it would be a good idea to talk to Rebecca about something she was interested in. “What book are you reading?” You ask. It had a dragon on it, so it was probably a fantasy novel of some sort. Most likely a book she has owned for quite a while, since the spine was cracked and the pages were all dog-eared.

You were never all that into fantasy. When you were younger, you very much preferred science fiction. And though you frequently found yourself yearning at the new science fiction books on display at the bookstore, you knew you shouldn't get too caught up in reading them. Years ago, you used to stay up late reading all those books. Way past midnight. You wouldn’t even crack open your Bible. But now, you’ve made a commitment towards going to bed on time and reading your Bible every day. And though admittedly, some parts of your personal Bible study made you bored, or made you conjure up some terrible questions (no doubt just Satan attempting to make you question your faith), you keep pushing on. Those science fiction novels may be alluring, but they surely aren’t nearly as great as the treasures which would await you in Heaven.

Rebecca glanced at you, then showed you the back of the book. “It’s called ‘The Thief and The Knight’,” she said. Without any other comment.

You looked at the blurb at the back of the book, which read:

“What, no thank you? I went out of my way to help, you know, I didn’t have to.”

“You almost got me arrested!”

“But you didn’t, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Ungrateful!”

Tenia is a knight in training. Serious, clever, and an overall teacher’s pet, all the people in her life certainly had high hopes for her and her future.

Kavlin is a mischievous young thief. With nothing but the clothes on his back and his trusty dragon, Gason, he lives every day barely getting by, stealing whatever he needs to live.

The two of them couldn’t have lived lives more different. But one day, when their paths met in a market, they soon found their fates entangled permanently. Now Tenia needs to make a choice. Follow her head and continue her knight training, or follow her heart and walk a new path with Kavlin?

You sigh. This doesn’t sound like a particularly godly story. You recalled reading several similar stories like that when you were young, and it would always end with the obedient young woman leaving her neatly laid out life for some reckless, hedonistic man. That was definitely not how God intended for young women to live their lives.

But maybe there’s a twist in this story. “Hm, that sounds interesting. Does she go back to studying hard to become a knight?” You ask. Smiling in as kind a way as you could.

Rebecca shook her head, which was slightly disappointing for you. “She falls in love with him. They continue working together, she quits being a knight, and together they’re now thieves working to make the kingdom a much better, safer place for the poor.”

“But surely she could have done that while still being a knight? Without becoming a thief?” You ask. “The Bible says that we must use our gifts to help others in need. She could have done good for the poor using the gifts which made her such a promising knight, instead of going on to become a thief. There’s ways of helping others without disobeying the law.”

Rebecca looked at you, biting her lip. You hope that that’s a sign that she’s reconsidering reading something like that. God did say that we should be careful about what we read, and what we think about. If your words would convince her to stop reading something so immoral, that would only be a good thing.

She took her book back, and held it close to her chest. You shot yet another smile at her, hoping that she understood that you were only concerned about her and the state of her spirit. Hopefully, she will get there soon. You remember how hard it had been to forgo your sci-fi novels. Even to this day, you still kind of miss them. But you could live without them. You could live only on the word of God alone, without any other book. That was something you had to remind yourself almost every day. But it was worth it. It had to be worth it, to be God’s faithful servant.

“At least consider it,” you say. “I’m only concerned for your spiritual well-being, and I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong ideas from the wrong places.” Rebecca still stared at you, her face still seemed fairly expressionless. But maybe, with some prayers, she’ll have her heart and mind changed.

You thought that you heard someone call you, and so you turned back around. “I’m sorry Rebecca,” you say. “I think I’m needed elsewhere now. So I’m going to have to go.” Such a shame. You were hoping to chat with her for a bit longer. Now what she’ll do is slip her headphones back on and bury her nose back into that book of hers. You should know. That was what you used to do back when you were her age.

You tried to recall. Why did you used to do that? Socialising with others in Church was such a pleasant thing. You loved to go every week, and listen to them talk about all the minor life updates that they have. Their new houses and cars. Their children winning participation trophies. Surely, those things were always far more interesting that any book one could bury their nose in. You try and think back, why did you like to read and hide away so much from the world. But you could not dwell on that question any further, because soon you ended up swept away by the crowd. Your train of thought halted. And you got sucked, like a whirlpool, into a sea of identical pearly white smiles and modest dresses.

#friday night fights #fnf #tabby's writing #christianity tw #religion tw #female pov #2nd person pov #female second person pov #my writing

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

Text

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 47

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

@smolplantmum tagged as requested :)

Chapter 46 | Chapter 48 | AO3 link

As Ladybug swings through Paris after Adrien’s departure, people stop and point and whisper after her, but she can’t find it in her to give half a damn about what they’re saying. Honestly, being Marinette would be way preferable to being Ladybug right now, because then at least she could go undetected in the crowd and not have to deal with the fallout of Adrien’s revealed identity nearly as much as she does now, because there’s no way that’s not what at least half the people down there are talking about.

God, what is she even going to do if Adrien does lose his Miraculous? Sure, she can work with another partner to get the job done, but…they won’t be Chat Noir. They won’t have that nearly-unspoken bond that she and Chat Noir have built. They won’t have the experience, they weren’t there on that first day when she was at her most inexperienced and her lowest, but she’s being selfish by continuing down this train of thought, she needs to do what’s right for Paris –

“Uh, Ladybug?” Chloé’s tapping her foot with crossed arms in front of Ladybug. Huh. Ladybug’s on the roof of Le Grand Paris. When had she arrived at the hotel? “Are you gonna stand there all day, or should I just go and announce your presence to Hawkmoth?”

“Sorry.” Ladybug shakes her head. “Just…got a lot on my mind.”

Chloé’s face softens. “Whatever. Just c’mon, already. Souris, Ryuuko, and Luka are already here.”

When Chloé had mentioned a superhero suite, Ladybug had been picturing a spacious hotel room; nothing too big, but certainly big enough for a team of six – now seven – superheroes. What she hadn’t been expecting, however, is a massive spread of three rooms to rival Chloé’s imperial suite, and her mouth falls open when Chloé holds the door open for her and she gets her first glimpse.

“I know, right?” Chloé says smugly. “Daddy nearly fell over himself to arrange it when I said that I came with a request from the superheroes themselves. It doesn’t have much yet, but I can get whatever movies we want and a mini fridge and microwave in case we want snacks or need to refuel our kwamis, and there’s only one bed but I plan on getting more –”

“Chloé. Honey,” Ladybug interrupts with a wan smile. “It’s perfect. Thank you for being so considerate.”

“Oh, of course.” Chloé tosses her ponytail. “Anyway, I’m gonna go back up there to wait for the fox and turtle.”

“Thanks, Chloé.”

Once Chloé shuts the suite door behind her, Ladybug turns to head into the right room, assuming the layout is the same as Chloé’s suite. Sure enough, she finds Ryuuko, Luka, and Petite Souris waiting on massive white couches, with platters of food on the table for them to snack on.

“Ma – Ladybug!” Luka’s eyes light up when she enters the room.

“You,” Ladybug growls, “are an idiot and I’m going to kill you.”

Luka’s face falls. “I don’t regret a thing,” he says. “I’d do it ten times over if it meant keeping you all safe.”

“Logically, it was the smart move,” Ryuuko says. “But I agree with Ladybug. I just might end up throttling you for it.”

“I don’t understand anything that’s going on right now, and I’m afraid to ask,” Petite Souris says, looking between each of them while blinking slowly.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ladybug says. Ryuuko and Luka’s eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” Ryuuko says.

“I’m positive,” Ladybug says. “Hawkmoth knows who Chat Noir is now. We need to be able to fully work together as a team, in and out of the masks.”

Chloé returns at that moment with Rena Rouge and Carapace, who look like they’ve been bashed around the head as they take in the suite. Chloé just snorts and sits next to Petite Souris, whose jaw drops along with Luka’s at the sight of Pollen poking her head out of her cardigan.

“What?” Chloé snaps. “I know I fucked up as Queen Bee, but I’ve been a damn good Honeybee.”

“Hey, no one’s saying you’re not,” Ladybug says. “Calm down, Chloé. I just don’t think they were expecting you to be Honeybee because of how we made sure to throw everyone off the trail.”

“Oh. Right.”

“It doesn’t feel right without Adrien here,” Rena Rouge says after a few seconds of silence. Ladybug sighs and pulls her legs up so that she can hug her knees.

“I know. I hope his father doesn’t grill him too much. But there’s no way we’re replacing him, no matter how angry Mr Agreste gets.”

“Y’know, I never hated anyone except Hawkmoth before,” Carapace says. “But I kinda feel like that about Lila now for all the shit she’s done.”

“Don’t hate her,” Luka says. “That’s energy you could be directing elsewhere.”

“Luka’s right,” Ryuuko says. “Pour that energy into Adrien instead of Lila.”

“Um,” Ladybug says. “So, uh…I guess I should tell you all that I’m not in a four-way love square, but I am dating Adrien. Chat. Both.”

“Say, what?” Rena Rouge squints at Ladybug. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Because I’m tired of keeping secrets.” Ladybug clenches her fists. “Hawkmoth already knows who Chat Noir is, and part of the Miraculous magic means that akumas can’t read our minds or make us say who we are. The only thing they can do is take our Miraculouses themselves or brainwash us into physically coming to them as a Miraculous holder.”

“We’re revealing our identities?” Chloé says. “I mean, your identities, since everyone already knows who I am. Thanks, Shellhead.”

“Hey, that’s my nickname for him,” Rena Rouge complains. Chloé flips her off in response.

“Ryuuko and Luka already know who both of us are,” Ladybug says. “And Chat and I know every one of you. So, back to why I just mentioned the whole relationship mess.” Ladybug takes a deep breath and laces her fingers. This is it. No going back. But she’d trust every single teammate with her life – even Petite Souris, after today – and if knowing each other will strengthen their bonds? “We need to be able to fully trust each other, in and out of the mask. We’re a team. We’ve got the group chat to coordinate, but some of us know an identity or two, so our dynamic is rather…imbalanced if you ask me. And since Hawkmoth knows who Chat is, he could target Chat to find out our identities. It can’t possibly be any more dangerous for all of us to know each other if the pay-off is a stronger bond between all of us. Unlike Hawkmoth and his akumas, we can rely on each other.”

“Dude, if you’re trying to convince us, I don’t think you need to,” Carapace says. Ladybug’s lips twitch.

“I just want a promise from all of you,” she says. “Today, I was nearly distracted to the point of uselessness because someone I care about – Luka – was hurt by Sanguisuga. And ever since Chat and I found out each other’s identities, it’s become so much harder to watch him take hits for me. I want you all to promise that you’ll see each other as teammates first and friends second. Don’t just ignore your teammates and not care, obviously, but don’t let yourselves get distracted and take unnecessary hits. One of the reasons to keep our identities secret is so that if, say, two of us were best friends or dating, we wouldn’t let our emotions get the better of us in the middle of a fight.”

“Of course,” Ryuuko says. “And besides, your cure fixes everything.”

Ladybug lets out a shaky laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But even if I’m not around to fix things –”

“Ridiculous,” Chloé scoffs. “Ladybug always wins. You just have to accept that if it comes down to it, we have to take the hits for you so you can fix everything. It’s not us being ridiculously noble or whatever. It’s literally just common sense.”

“Apart from Adrien,” Rena Rouge snorts. “God, now I get why he was crushing so hard on Ladybug. But hey, I haven’t been ridiculously noble, have I?”

“No,” Ladybug says. “You’ve done a good job of prioritising the mission since Faux News.”

“I promise,” Petite Souris says. Rena Rouge and Carapace chime in their agreement, so Ladybug cracks a weak smile while still fiddling with her fingers.

“So, uh, who wants to go first?” she says.

“Ooh, me!” Rena Rouge bounces on the spot with gleaming eyes. “If I have to keep it a secret any longer, I’m gonna explode. Let’s rest.” In a flash of orange light, Alya’s sitting in her spot with Trixx drifting down to sit on her shoulder. The way Carapace’s eyes pretty much bulge out of his head behind his goggles is so comical that Ladybug almost ends up in hysterical giggles. Almost. If she didn’t have to be professional about this…

“I – uh – guh –” Carapace splutters.

“Eww!” Chloé leans away from Alya. “I’ve been bonding with Césaire?”

“You think it wasn’t a slap in the face knowing you were Honeybee?” Alya says with a raised eyebrow. “Especially since I had to help you by throwing everyone off after Malediktator?”

“Blueberries!” Trixx zooms at the plate of fruit and dives into the berries. Chloé wrinkles her nose when he shovels one into his mouth.

“At least my kwami is dignified,” Chloé says. Pollen laughs and slips out of Chloé’s jacket to hover in mid-air.

“Indeed, my queen,” she says.

“Shell off,” Carapace manages to force out. An ashen-faced Alya chokes and nearly falls off the couch when Nino appears next to her in Carapace’s place.

“Nino?” she shrieks. “My superhero rival – my boyfriend?”

“I hated your guts!” Nino jabs a finger at her. “I thought you were flirting with me!”

“I wasn’t! I thought you were a dick! We hated each other because we loved each other?”

“Wait, you love me?” Nino’s eyes fill with stars. Alya groans and facepalms.

“Yes, you idiot! I even started to like Carapace, like some sort of superhero cliché, but noooo, I had to be loyal to my boyfriend because I’m not polyamorous! And it turns out that he was my love-hate rival!”

“DJ Tupac? Of course!” Chloé throws her hands up in the air. “And let me guess, dragon girl’s secretly Marinette or something?”

Ryuuko snorts. “Wrong red superhero with black hair. Open skies.”

The first person who seems to put all the puzzle pieces together upon seeing Kagami is Alya. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head, and she opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish, and then she shakily points from Ladybug to Kagami and then Luka.

“You – all of you – dating – and all of us – ohmygodmybestieisLadybugI’mgonnafuckingdie –”

“Please don’t,” Ladybug laughs, while Nino, Chloé, and Petite Souris splutter and have their own freak-outs at the realisation of her identity. “I’d hate to have to replace you. Spots off.”

“Finally!” Kagami bounds over to Marinette’s couch so that she can wrap her arms around Marinette’s waist and rest her head in Marinette’s lap, while Longg floats up to join his fellow kwamis. Luka’s only seconds behind, dropping down next to Marinette and drawing her into a side embrace.

“Hello!” Tikki settles on Marinette’s head and waves. “I’m Tikki, Ladybug’s kwami! Pleased to finally meet you all!”

“That’s the toy I gave Prince Ali! I looked up to Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé shrieks. “All that bullying and then sucking up – oh my god, this is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous –”

“Look at it this way, Chloé,” Marinette says. “How else did I know how your progress was going? Why else would I have picked you for the Bee?”

“I – I mean, sure, if you look at it that way –”

“Get calm!” Petite Souris blurts out and turns into Mylène in a flash of pale pink light.

“Mylène?” Alya exclaims. “Wait, since when are you a superhero, girl?”

“Since today.” Mylène holds her head high despite how her whole body is trembling. On her knee, the little rat kwami – Mullo, Marinette believes his name is – shoots her an approving look. “I understand if I wasn’t your first choice, Ladybug. Chat Noir said that I was the first one he could find –”

“That doesn’t make you a bad choice,” Marinette says firmly. “You did very well today. You saved me and Kagami, and you tried to take on Sanguisuga even though you were scared. You were super brave. Maybe Petite Souris can help you be brave as Mylène too.”

“Ugh, no wonder you were all “triumph of evil is good people doing nothing” and whatever,” Chloé says.

“Actually, that was thanks to me,” Alya says. “Ladybug’s best friend. Who I said I’d do on my freebie list. Oh my god.”

“Guys, the reveal was to make us stronger, not make us argue over little stuff,” Marinette says before Alya can start freaking out at the realisation that her celebrity crush is her best friend.

“We’ve been reactive for way too long,” Kagami says. “Hawkmoth now knows Chat Noir’s identity. We need to proactively try and find him before he can cause more harm.”

“Honestly, part of the reason why we’ve been so reactive is that Tikki didn’t think we were ready,” Marinette admits. “Who knows how long he’s been a Butterfly wielder? But with this team, I know we can take a more proactive stance.”

“We should start coming up with some ideas now, then,” Luka says. “You can fill Adrien in through the group chat tonight.”

“Good idea!” Mylène rummages around in her bag for a notebook and pen. “We can write our ideas down in here. I’m always prepared for when Ivan thinks of song lyrics and doesn’t have anything to write them down with!”

“So.” Marinette cards her fingers through Kagami’s hair; such a normal action as opposed to the conversation they’re about to have. “Any ideas?”

But before anyone can toss a suggestion into the air, a tiny black thing comes barrelling through the open window of the superhero suite and skids to a halt above the table of food.

Wait. It’s not a thing. It’s…Plagg? With the ring around him?

“Plagg?” Marinette gasps. “What are you doing here? Where’s Adrien?”

“I’m sorry!” Plagg says with wild green eyes. “I’m sorry, Marinette, I tried to stop it, but I –”

“Plagg, slow down!” Tikki zooms up to Plagg and grabs his tiny paws, and she’s joined by Trixx, Wayzz, Pollen, Longg, and Mullo. “Was Adrien compromised? Tell us what happened.”

Plagg nods shakily. “So, Pigtails, remember when you and Adrien thought his dad could be Hawkmoth?”

Marinette claps a hand to her mouth to keep down the bile that threatens to rise into her throat. “Mr Agreste is Hawkmoth?” she whispers. “But – Adrien’s there! With him! And I just let him go! Plagg, what happened to Adrien?”

“His mother’s alive,” Plagg rasps. “Creepy dude’s been keeping her in some life support thing in the basement. That’s why he wants the Miraculouses: he wants to wish her back.”

“Wait, what?” Mylène says, while Chloé pales to the colour of chalk.

“A-Auntie Emilie?” she whispers.

“Combining the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses lets you make one wish,” Tikki says. “But doesn’t he know that he has to pay a price of equal value? What if he has to sacrifice Adrien?”

“Doesn’t even matter right now.” Plagg covers his face with his hands and groans. “I shouldn’t have left! I shouldn’t have ditched my kitten like that! Now he’s Phantom and –”

“Wait. Phantom?” Luka leans forward so suddenly that Marinette nearly topples sideways. One look at his face is enough to make Marinette shiver, because Luka Couffaine isn’t a boy who gets angry easily, but his expression right now is terrifying enough to make her want to hand over her earrings just to erase it from existence. “Adrien was akumatised?”

Chloé lets out a loud gasp, while everyone else looks to be turning various shades of green. “Adrikins! How could his father do that to him?”

“He tried to resist,” Plagg says miserably. “My poor kitten tried so hard. But between finding out his dad’s Hawkmoth and his mum’s alive…he managed to resist enough to not tell Hawkie who you guys are, though.”

“So…is Phantom going to come after us, even if he didn’t reveal who we are?” Kagami says, pushing herself up so that she can reach over and grab Marinette and Luka’s hands. “He knows our identities.”

“Not yet.” Plagg shakes his head viciously. “As far as he knows, you guys aren’t meeting till tonight. But…he’s gonna take Hawkmoth to get other Miraculouses.”

Marinette shrieks and tries to jump to her feet so quickly that her arms are forced to windmill so that she doesn’t fall flat on her face. “Master Fu! He knows where to find Master Fu!”

“Master who?” Chloé says.

“Master Fu!” Wayzz’s yellow eyes are wide with horror. “The Guardian of the Miraculouses! My previous holder!”

“Guys!” Marinette takes a deep breath and starts mildly flapping her hands to give her a physical anchor to focus on. “Okay. Make sure you stick together. We don’t know how strong Phantom is or what his powers are, especially if Hawkmoth is with him. I have to get to Master Fu before Phantom does.”

“Possession and bending others to his will,” Plagg says quietly. “He’s literally a ghost. A shade of himself.”

Marinette winces. “Great. God, I hope Adrien doesn’t remember any of this when we save him…”

“Bits and pieces.” Chloé’s shoulders slump. “They’re not really concrete memories. They’re like little flashes that come when there’s a reminder.”

“We’ll come with you,” Kagami says, then holds up a hand before Marinette can protest. “You shouldn’t go alone in case Phantom and Hawkmoth are there. We can help take down Hawkmoth, and I can at least buy us some time to get away if we need to retreat.”

“So can I, with Mirage,” Alya chimes in.

“Kagami’s right,” Tikki says. “Master Fu would much rather you bring back-up, even if it means other people knowing where he is. And if Hawkmoth finds him, it won’t really matter much, will it?”

“You’re right,” Marinette sighs. “Okay. Plagg, where’s the akuma, do you know?”

“The charm you gave him back during the game tournament.” Plagg’s ears droop. “It’s around his wrist. That’s all I saw before I got the heck outta there.”

“Everyone get that?” Marinette says, and her teammates nod. “Don’t take unnecessary risks. We’ve got each other’s backs, but don’t lose focus, or Hawkmoth could get away with Adrien and the Miracle Box. Speaking of…Luka, if you’re willing, could you –?”

Plagg’s already swooping down to Luka before Marinette can finish speaking. Luka nods and holds out his hand so that Plagg can rest on his palm and deposit the ring.

“Of course, Marinette,” he says, slipping the ring onto his finger.

“Right. Let’s do this!” Marinette says. “Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Trixx, let’s pounce!”

“Pollen, buzz on!”

“Wayzz, shell on!”

“Longg, bring the storm!”

“Mullo, get squeaky!”

In a burst of rainbow light, seven superheroes take the place of seven teenagers. Luka’s Black Cat outfit is him to a tee: just a green-lined black leather jacket with a green paw print on the back of the jacket and his black fingerless gloves, over a high-collared black top, torn black pants with bright green visible beneath the rips, black combat boots, a studded black belt that falls into a tail behind him, green cat eyes behind a plain black mask, and green-lined black cat ears sticking out of his hair, which is now tipped in bright green. He reaches back to unclip his baton from the small of his back and nods, his mouth set in a stormy line.

“Just call me Noir,” he says. “Doesn’t feel right to come up with a name and everything when I’m not the real Black Cat. And Hawkmoth will probably guess who I am anyway.”

With a terrifying light in her eyes, Honeybee cracks her knuckles and growls, “That son of a bitch is gonna pay for what he’s done to my Adrikins.”

“Sorry, Honeybee, but you’ll have to get in line,” Ryuuko says, unsheathing her sword. The zing that results is sharp and deadly, honing Ladybug’s focus to the mission before her because with no Chat Noir, it’s up to her to step up and be the sole leader. As amazing as Noir is, he’s not Chat Noir.

“Everyone ready?” she says. Her teammates nod, so she takes a deep breath. “Then let’s go and kick butterfly butt.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #aotq fic #aotq: hold me #marinette dupain-cheng #kagami tsurugi #ryuuko #luka couffaine #cat!luka #alya cesaire #rena rouge #nino lahiffe #carapace #chloe bourgeois #mylene haprele #akumatized adrien #identity reveal #final battle next boooyyyyssss

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latent-thoughts · 4 years

Text

The Pursuit of a Simple Life (Chapter 6 - Goddess of Wrath)

[Co-Authored with @emeraldrosequartz]

Rating: 18+ (there be lots of citrus here).

Warning: None

Pairing: Loki/Original Female Character

Summary: Three years after returning to Earth with the other Asgardians following Ragnarok, Loki finds himself working for SHIELD, truly just trying to fight the boredom. While on an undercover mission, he unexpectedly begins to fall for his co-worker, Gemma, and she seems to feel the same way…about Dave, his alter ego while in disguise. Can Loki continue a relationship with her while keeping his true identity a secret? How many lies can the ‘God of lies’ spin to keep his pursuit of a simple life?

[Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017); THOR IS A GOOD BRO AND TOTALLY NOT HOW HE WAS IN RAGNAROK, THNX; Infinity War Doesn’t Exist; Everyone lives]

A/N: Gemma shares some sad details of her life with Dave, and then she has to face her boss again.

________________________________

IMPORTANT NOTES:

Bold Text = Loki’s POV

Normal Text = Gemma’s POV

________________________________

Loki wanted to murder Oliver. Painfully.

In the time the pudgy man had taken to humiliate poor Gemma, Loki had thought about twenty scenarios where he could end up dead, with no evidence indicating any foul play.

He could do it. But he knew that it would not work well for the mission. The man would most likely be declared a martyr who had probably leaked important information against the company.

In his three or so years on Midgard, Loki had learnt quite a bit about how the media of the realm worked.

Hence, after considering everything, he lowered his murderous gaze from the man and tried to appear engrossed in his work.

He'd deal with Oliver later...

For now, he focused on Gemma. His poor Gemma...

Once Oliver was gone, Loki slipped from his desk and walked past hers on his way to the printer, dropping a note down to her surreptitiously.

It was a simple note, stating that he thought Oliver a callous and uncouth monster, and that he believed she wasn't at fault. Lastly, he gave her the venue of their lunch date, to uplift her spirits.

Gemma read the note, like, 300 times.

“Callous and uncouth”...? Who TALKS like that? Dave talks like that. Perfect, handsome, wonderful, sexy Dave talks like that.

Not my fault...well of course it’s my fault. I didn’t get the work done, and now I’m in trouble for it. But it’s nice of him to say so...

WOW he wants to go THERE for lunch?!

By the time noon rolled around, she had memorized that note word for word...and she could not WAIT to get out of there.

She clocked out, grabbed her cardigan, and headed over to Dave’s desk.

“Hey, thanks for the note. That was really sweet.” She smiled and wrung her hands together. “So...ready to go?”

Loki rose from his desk, closing his laptop and grabbing his bag and pea-coat.

"Absolutely," he declared cheerfully, grasping her hand to lead her out of the hall. "Also, you'd do well to learn that I don't accept expressions of gratitude for acting with bare minimum decency."

He helped her put her cardigan on once they reached his car, feeling her tremble as he did so. He kissed her cheek softly to ease the tension in her body, and it only made her jump.

"Relax," he stated, holding her close for a moment. "Everything will be fine. Your reports will be done on time. Now forget the work related hassles and try to take a break."

He opened the passenger door for her as he said that last bit, helping her into the car.

She couldn’t believe he actually held her hand the whole way to his car. His incredible, gorgeous, fancy-as-hell car. Ooooh, she loved it.

And she was kind of starting to think she loved him even more. Not like LOVE love, but, you know, like how you love a cool drink of water on a hot day. And Dave was definitely a cool drink of water.

“Ok, I’ll try,” she responded. He was acting so familiar with her, with the kisses and the chivalry. It almost frightened her...she could get VERY used to this, and then it would hurt that much more once reality set in and he disappeared from her life, nothing more than a fond memory.

Because, deep down, she just knew this was too good to last. Stuff like this didn’t happen to her. But in the meantime, she would enjoy it as much as possible.

She clicked in her own seatbelt this time, and giggled as he drove out of the parking lot WAY too fast, grabbing his hand on the stick shift.

He grinned in response as she giggled, really enjoying the lilting sound it made in her throat. He wanted to make her laugh more often. Every day...

But he couldn't get ahead of himself. Not right now...

Once they reached their destination, he led her out of the car and into the restaurant of his choice.

"So, still want to have sandwiches?" he asked playfully as they settled into an intimate corner table with a large window overlooking the sea. "Or can I endeavour to change your mind?"

“Please...change my mind,” she said. Her tone was verging on sultry, and she dared to put her hands on his over the tabletop. She felt tingles radiate from where she touched him. This was their first actual date!

“Um...actually, why don’t you go ahead and order for me?” She watched for his reaction nervously--she’d never asked her date to order for her before. Then again, she’d never dated anyone like Dave before.

This was all becoming so unbearably and fantastically romantic...

Loki ordered for both of them while still holding her hands over the table. He didn't care if the waiter frowned upon it, he just did it because he wanted to.

"So... " he murmured as the waiter went off with their order. "I want to know something about you, Gemma. Will you tell me?"

He saw the hesitance in her eyes, but still, she nodded.

"Why do you work at PAC & Co.? It's not a very friendly work environment, from what I've seen in my three months here. Surely you can find a better place than this?"

Gemma wanted to bring her hands back to her body, to wring the bottom of her shirt like she always did when she was nervous. But he felt so good holding her hand, and she couldn’t bring herself to let go. So she pushed through the nerves.

“I...well, I never thought I’d end up in a place like that, doing that kind of work. I always thought I would be--oh, nevermind, it’s stupid...”

She sighed and looked away. “I just...needed to pay the bills. And a monkey could do that work, so I knew I could do it. I don’t know. Things just didn’t turn out the way I planned, so I kept settling for less and less until...I got here.”

She hated that THAT was the story of her life--giving up on her dreams and settling for the absolutely dull and tedious world she’d built around herself. But it was the truth, and she felt like she owed that to him, at least.

“I know. Not very impressive...but that’s how it goes sometimes, I guess.”

"I see." Loki didn't like that she was letting go of her wants and wishes and just settling. So he pushed for more information. "And may I know what you actually wanted to do?"

He rubbed his thumbs over her wrists, trying to calm her down the moment he felt her growing restless. She was like a little hummingbird in his hands... so tiny and vulnerable. He wanted to protect her with all that he had.

She looked at him, feeling incredibly exposed. But he’d done nothing except be kind and patient with her; he’d shown her time and time again that he harbored no ill will toward her. But instincts and hard lessons learned were difficult to overcome.

Still...she wanted to tell him. And if he laughed at her, well, then it would be just that much easier when he went away.

“Um...geez, I haven’t told anyone this for a long time. I...I moved to New York City because I wanted to act on Broadway. I was in plays and musicals my whole life growing up, and when I could finally move out of that podunk little town, I came straight here and started auditioning. I took whatever classes I could afford, started meeting people, and then...well, then the attack happened...”

She closed her eyes, knowing she was close to tears but doing her best to keep it together.

“I was waitressing when it started...and I almost got killed. Captain America saved my life...along with everyone else in the building. I was so grateful to be alive!

“But then...well, my apartment was destroyed, along with all my stuff. I didn’t have renters’ insurance--it was too expensive. I was barely making ends meet, and I couldn’t move back home--I couldn’t stand the thought of living with my parents again. So I figured I’d get some admin job, just until I could get back on my feet and start auditioning again. But that was...god, it feels like a lifetime ago. And I just...I don’t feel the passion I used to, you know?

“Maybe if the attack hadn’t happened, I’d be where I wanted to be, but now...well, nothing I can do about it but tread water and try to put my life back together. And a steady paycheck is a big part of that, even if I have to sell my soul for it.”

Loki felt as though he had been slapped in the face, several times, with a hand made of uru metal...

While several centuries' worth of experience gave him enough fortitude to keep a straight, concerned facade on, internally, he was wilting. He had not felt this deep a bout of self-loathing in years.

The attack. His attack on New York had destroyed and forever changed many lives. One of them had been Gemma’s life. His sweet, loving, kind Gemma...

He had almost killed her.

Norns, he hated himself so much...

But there was nothing he could do to undo the past. That was the most frustrating part of his life.

His grip on her hands tightened slightly as he spoke. "I understand, though I cannot empathize fully. Being here when the attack happened.... it must've been terrifying. That monster changed your life forever, and he didn't care one bit about it. I'm sorry, Gemma... so sorry."

His voice nearly cracked as he tried his best to apologize for his deeds, though covertly. He knew that he didn't deserve forgiveness, but still, apologizing was the least he could do.

“Yea...” she sighed, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “But it’s not like I’m the only one it happened to. Plenty of people died that day, and I didn’t. So I have to believe there’s a reason for it...even if that reason is pretty far out and I can’t see it from here...”

She was shaken out of her thoughts when the waiter placed a beautiful cut of filet mignon in front of her, with a side of roasted vegetables and a few crostini. She thanked the server and cut off a generous bite of the meat, and as soon as it hit her tongue, her eyes rolled up and she moaned.

“Oh MAN--this is delicious! You ordered me filet mignon for LUNCH?! It’s like you’re trying to impress me or something...”

She giggled, letting the somber moment pass. Her depressing life story wasn’t going to change, and this incredible lunch was in front of her NOW.

“So, Dave...” she said, still chewing. “How did you get into sales? Family business?”

Loki was still feeling shaken, so he just looked down and played around with his food while she spoke.

Even though her little moan was distracting, it couldn't pull him from the pits of despair he was presently wallowing in.

"Not really. I was told that I was very persuasive from a very young age. So I suppose going into sales was a natural progression." He shrugged, trying to give her a little smile. It felt strained.

“Hey...are you ok?” Gemma asked. He had been so enthusiastic before her story, but now he seemed...depressed. She swallowed, then sighed heavily. “God...Dave, I’m sorry. I ruined the mood... Talking about the attack probably isn’t the best way to have a fun afternoon, is it...”

She sighed again. She’d blown it, just like she knew she would. There was still plenty of food on her plate--delicious food, better food than she’d eaten in years--but now, she wasn’t hungry anymore.

“I...I’ll just catch a cab back to the office. Thanks for lunch, Dave. Have a good one.”

She wanted to offer to pay for her meal, too. But she knew she couldn’t afford it, so she had to leave before he asked her to.

"Gemma," Loki said firmly as she tried to rise from her seat. "Sit down."

Norns, he had upset her now. First, he had nearly killed her in New York, destroyed her life, and now he was ruining her day as well.

No, he would no longer be a cause for her misery. He wanted to give her joy... to mend the life he had nearly snuffed out...

He looked up at her with an earnest expression. "I'm sorry. You didn't ruin the mood, I did. I shouldn't have pried into your life like a rampaging bilge--like an untamed bull. It was insensitive of me. Stay, please..."

That look he gave her nearly melted her heart.

Stay, please...

How could she not?

With another nervous gulp, she sat back down and looked at him softly--he looked almost more upset than she had been. What an odd reaction...

“I didn’t really want to leave anyway...” She smiled and took his hands in hers again. “And, thank you...for asking, I mean. It’s been a long time since...well, actually, I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before, about why I work at PAC & Co. It’s nice that you care.”

Their eyes locked, and she found she couldn’t look away from him. There was so much in his eyes, in his face--sadness and joy, nerves and excitement, concern, desperation, longing...she’d never seen anyone more expressive than him in that moment.

She was lost for words...time stopped. Her universe zoomed in and all she could see--all she wanted to see--was this incredible man who had suddenly shown up in her life and, for reasons she couldn’t even fathom, wanted to be with her.

"I do care," he stated truthfully, picking up the fork and offering her a piece of the fillet. "I wanted to know you better. I still do."

He squeezed her hand, almost afraid that she'd pull it away and run from him. It was an irrational fear, but still, it was there...

He didn't want to lose her.

She didn’t want to lose him.

She squeezed his hand in return and ate the filet off of the fork as he offered it to her. And the next. And the next. Until the meal was over.

She checked her watch, realizing she had gone WAY over her lunch break time, but...it didn’t matter. Let them fire her. What she needed--what she wanted--was to stay here as long as possible, pretending the outside world didn’t exist.

As the meal concluded, Loki paid for it, watching her as her eyes tried to discern the bill surreptitiously. That made him smile.

He didn't let her see the amount.

"I suppose it's time to go back to work, even though I honestly don't want to," he said as the waiter left with the bill and the amount paid. "But we both have things to finish."

He kissed her hand and rose from the seat, pulling her along.

"Do you think that Oliver would've lost his shit over your reports by now?" he asked casually, wrapping his arm around her as they made their way out of the restaurant. "Or would he not care till tomorrow morning?"

“I don’t think he’s even going to be there tomorrow. He’s probably already left for the weekend.” Gemma said drowsily. That lunch was MUCH bigger than what she usually ate, and the extra food in her system was making her sleepy. She curled into him and put her arm around his waist in return as they walked to the car. “He doesn’t like me...so he just tries to make my life miserable. Little does he know I’m a pro at having a miserable life. Sucks for him, right?”

She chuckled morosely as she climbed back into Dave’s amazing car, settling into the leather seat with a contented little moan.

“Thanks for the lunch, Dave. Truly. That was the best meal I’ve had in ages. And the best company.”

She smiled warmly and held his hand, letting him go when he needed it to change gears but otherwise holding on to him the entire way. As they pulled back into the parking lot, she pouted.

“I don’t wannaaaaaa...” she cried sarcastically.

Loki laughed at her childish little whine as he got out of the car and opened her door for her.

"I'd honestly take you back to my place and ravish you in all the ways I want to," he confessed as he pulled her out of the car and pressed her against it with his body. "But I'm trying to practice restraint. We ought to be more responsible, no?"

“No,” she answered cheekily, narrowing her eyes in a scrunchy little smile. “Let’s not be responsible. Let’s run away from this two-bit town and never come back.”

She was joking, of course...wasn’t she? Also...who said “ravished” these days???

Dave. Dave says ravished.

She enjoyed the little shiver that ran down her spine at the thought of it

But as they walked back through the doors with their arms around each other, fielding the raised eyebrows and sudden titters from their co-workers, Gemma just smiled. Maybe, JUUUUST maybe...things might work out.

And then she saw Oliver waiting for her in the lobby, tapping his foot and looking at his watch...

Oh...FUCK...

Loki was feeling elated once again. Gemma was in his arms and she looked so happy. She was glowing.

Because of him. Or Dave... it was the same thing, really, for his affection wasn't any different in either form.

While he was lost in his own thoughts about Gemma, Gemma's step faltered. That brought his mind back to the present, and he saw Gemma's face fall.

Following her line of vision, he saw their boss, Oliver, waiting in the lobby, looking none too pleased.

Oh, what did he want now? He was going to undo all of Loki's attempts to cheer the girl...

Very subtly, Loki stepped ahead of Gemma and tried to shield her from the portly man's renewed ire.

Gemma and Oliver’s eyes locked. She could see the hint of a malicious smirk on his face...he was going to chew her out--AGAIN--in front of the entire team. Twice in one day. For whatever reason, he seemed to love singling her out...he’d done it for years, and for all that time, she had taken it. Just sat there and let him do it...and she was sick of it.

Had she NOT been through enough? Talking to Dave over lunch had helped her put her life in a bit more perspective; just because she hadn’t succeeded in what she’d expected to do did NOT mean she deserved to be abused by a bully.

She. Was. Done.

Gemma felt Dave beginning to move in front of her, and she stopped him. He turned to face her, the same heart melting concern on his face, and she gave him a firm, resolved look. She let him go and walked up to Oliver.

“Have you been standing here waiting for me to get back from lunch, Oliver?” She put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed.

Loki's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected Gemma to confront Oliver straight away...

That seemed to affect the idiot as well, for he seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he responded.

"I was wondering why you had gone out for lunch when you have work left to complete! Do I need to remind you that I want the reports on my desk by Saturday morning?" he asked with malicious glee, most likely expecting to see Gemma wilt against his verbal tirade again.

But Gemma didn't wilt this time. Much to Loki's surprise, she kept staring at Oliver with an even gaze.

Gemma felt a fire in her belly...she didn’t know where it came from, but she liked it. She wasn’t going to let Oliver push her around anymore.

Because if someone like Dave thought she was worth something, maybe she should start thinking that, too.

“Is it Saturday morning yet, Oliver?” she challenged him, a hint of sarcasm slipping into her words. She practically spit his name out.

Oliver sputtered and turned beet red, eyeing Gemma as though she had sprouted another head.

Loki was enjoying this immensely. His Gemma was fighting back! This was glorious...

"No," Oliver finally answered, glaring at her while also knowing that she had him. It was written on his face, clear as the day.

“Then what’s the problem? Seems like I still have plenty of time to finish those reports you asked for--which I’m assuming you must need so urgently that you’re going to meet me here tomorrow, right? Otherwise, this could wait until Monday?”

“What? No, I won’t be here tomorrow...” Oliver’s face turned that purplish-crimson color she despised, and she scoffed at him.

“So why, exactly, do I need to get them to you by then, hm? Could it be that you needed to make yourself feel better by putting me down, just like you have for the last three years? Your fragile little ego needed a boost? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but a TPX report isn’t going to fix that. And I’m not taking your shit anymore.”

She pushed past him, saying quietly so only he could hear. “Now please leave me alone so I can finish the work you so desperately need completed, despite the fact that you won’t see it until Monday when you get back from your weekend of self-destructive binge eating and coddling your porn addiction.”

His eyes went wide and he sputtered as she glared at him one more time.

“You really should clear your browser history more often when you’re at work.”

With that, she headed to her cubicle, absolutely vibrating with nerves.

Loki was absolutely stunned, as was Oliver.

Gemma was... Norns, she was a GODDESS of WRATH!

The way she eviscerated that buffoon, with class and dignity, was breathtaking to watch. Loki had a front row seat to that, and it wasn't at all disappointing.

He was so excited to see her stand up for herself that he wanted to jump up on his desk and give her a big round of applause.

Oliver was now standing there like a man emasculated. And justly so. The absolute wretch that he was, he deserved every word of her scathing response.

As Gemma settled into her chair, the pudgy man made himself scarce, leaving the hall with his tail between his legs.

Loki couldn't help himself. He skipped over to Gemma's desk and grasped her hand.

"That was great, Gemma. I'm pretty sure that he's not going to bother you for the rest of the day now," he said, feeling nothing but pride soaring in his heart for her.

And just as he finished speaking, other people from the hall came rushing to her cubicle to tell her how wonderfully she had dealt with Oliver.

_________________________________________________________

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] Ch-1; Ch-2; Ch-3; Ch-4; Ch-5 [NEXT CHAPTER]

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kagehinataboke · 4 years

Text

only time will tell - chapter 4

“You’re fucking late. Again.” As usual, Katsuki is waiting in the classroom when Todoroki arrives, fifteen minutes late and in a cold sweat. Katsuki is wearing a basketball jersey—he’s on the school team, apparently—red track pants, and sneakers. His ever-present scowl seems especially sour today.

Todoroki takes off his backpack and clips his sunglasses to the collar of his shirt. “Sorry. I had to run here from a shoot.” He turns to the remedial students scattered around the room, plastering on a smile. “Did everyone wait long?”

All the girls immediately shake their heads, and even some of the boys, albeit reluctantly. Todoroki flashes Katsuki a smug look, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. Over the past week, Todoroki has been late to nearly every remedial session—and Katsuki isn’t happy, to say the least.

It’s not like Todoroki can help it: his agent basically ignored him when he asked her for an easier schedule. He has photoshoots or interviews nearly every day after school, so he has to run back to make it to the remedial lessons at six. He didn’t even have time to change today, so he’s still in the ripped jeans, collared blue shirt, and brown cardigan they put him in for the shoot. He even still has makeup on, although it’s probably been ruined by sweat.

“Now that you’ve deigned to join us, your majesty, let’s start.” Katsuki picks up a stack of papers on Aizawa’s vacant podium and passes them around. “These are practice tests. You morons are going to use what we went over during the last session and get over eighty percent on these, or we’ll do proofs for an hour straight. Got it?”

Silence.

Todoroki looks up after stripping off his cardigan and rolling up his shirt sleeves to find them all looking at him, including Katsuki.

Todoroki clears his throat, and everyone looks away instantly. “Sorry. Ah… You were saying, Bakugou?”

Katsuki, seeming significantly more annoyed than before, restarts his speech. Todoroki lingers in the background, only half-listening. He isn’t sure if he’s actually much help at these remedial lessons. His goal was to work closely with Katsuki, but there haven’t been any chances. On top of Todoroki always being late, Katsuki actually treats this like a job. He’s surprisingly dedicated to helping their classmates, to the point where Todoroki feels like dead weight.

“The hell’s up with you?” Katsuki demands after the remedial students leave—all having finished their tests with scores over 80, much to Katsuki’s pleasant surprise. His tone is more confrontational than conversational.

“I already apologized for being late,” Todoroki sighs. He already knows where this is headed: they’ve had the same exact talk every day this week. He doesn’t want to have it today. All of his energy is gone.

Perhaps Katsuki can tell—they did used to be close, after all—because instead of the inevitable scolding Todoroki was expecting, he receives a quiet, “Don’t be late again.”

It’s strange. More than strange, because Katsuki is being soft again. First it was back at the shed, and now this. Todoroki can’t deal with the way his look changes sometimes; the way his eyes seem to shift, becoming questioning, becoming different; with the way they eventually return to normal again, and the moment is gone.

Katsuki is just… so different. His hair, for one, and his piercings—and his attitude, most noticeably of all. Well, maybe second most noticeably. He’s also, to put it in simple terms, attractive now. Incredibly so. Todoroki obviously never saw him as anything more than a friend when they were kids, but now? Now it’s like the wool’s been pulled from his eyes. He sees all the things he couldn’t see before—like the curve of muscles under Katsuki’s jersey, and the way the veins in his arms flex as he picks up papers, or the way his black hair makes his eyes look a shade even deeper than red.

“What are you staring at?” Katsuki’s gaze settles on his face, and Todoroki thinks about not looking away. He thinks about staring back until he can find something recognizable in these eyes that he used to know so well.

But then he gives in; averts his gaze; clears his throat. “Nothing. I was just lost in thought.”

Todoroki does look up again, only briefly, to see that Katsuki has gone back to collecting papers. The ebony of his hair against the tan skin of his neck as he bends over the desks is strange and foreign.

“Your hair,” Todoroki finds himself saying. “I miss it being blond.”

“What?” Katsuki looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. Todoroki doesn’t fail to notice the way his hand flits to his scalp, then quickly back to his side. “Why the fuck are you saying that all of a sudden?” He snatches the last paper and roughly elbows Todoroki aside. “I’m going to put these away. Get lost already—and don’t be late tomorrow.”

Todoroki stares at the door for longer than he should. He isn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he thinks he saw faint red dusting the back of Katsuki’s neck. The black of his hair only made it stand out even more.

It probably was his imagination. And he should probably leave, because Katsuki will most certainly yell at him if he sticks around. ‘Damn Half n’ Half dumbass bastard, what the fuck are you still doing here? ’ or something along those lines. Half n’ Half is Katsuki’s new favorite insult. It’s because of Todoroki’s hair, which he started dying for his modeling career and never bothered to change.

Before Katsuki really does come back and scold him, Todoroki gathers his things and heads outside. It’s dark already—it’s nearing eight thirty—and the sky is a dark blue quickly encroaching on black. The night breeze is chilly enough that Todoroki stops by the front gate to put his cardigan back on. He’s got one arm in the sleeve when he spots someone vaguely familiar lingering just outside the gate.

It’s the guy Katsuki was talking to on the first day of school. What was his name, again? Shigaraki? It’s strange that he’s here so late, but if he and Katsuki are friends, maybe he can tell Todoroki a bit about him. Even if the guy is creepy, it’s worth a shot.

“Hey.” Todoroki approaches cautiously, waiting until he has Shigaraki’s attention to continue. “Are you looking for Bakugou? He probably won’t be out for awhile.”

Shigaraki’s expression is hard to read, but he’s smiling, at least. Even if it’s a strange, not-all-there smile. “Is that so?” He shrugs away from the wall, sticking his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatshirt. “He was supposed to go to a café with me. Why don’t you come instead?”

Todoroki frowns, fingers tracing along the edge of his backpack straps nervously. Why would they be meeting up? He remembers enough of their conversation to guess that Katsuki doesn’t like Shigaraki very much. But this is such a good opportunity… Ugh.

“Okay,” Todoroki agrees, pushing away every ounce of doubt. “What café?” He can’t pass up a chance to learn more about Katsuki—at least, not when he still refuses to talk about anything other than school.

“Just follow me.” Shigaraki is still smiling.

Todoroki tries very hard to convince himself that it's a reassuring smile and that he isn’t being lured into an alleyway or abandoned building to be murdered. Fuyumi would kill him twice over for being stupid enough to follow a stranger—even if that stranger knows one of his friends. Ex-friends? Whatever.

Ah, he was psyching himself out for nothing… The place Shigaraki brings him is a plain old coffee shop, with a pastel interior and comfy booths and the heavy bitter-sweet smell of espresso. They take a seat in the corner, surrounded by plush cushions and decorative paintings. Not sinister in the least. In fact, the place puts him at ease enough to get down to business.

“Sorry to do this right when we sit down, but…” Todoroki leans forward in the booth, glancing around to make sure that Katsuki isn’t somehow here to eavesdrop. He isn’t, obviously, but he still keeps his voice low anyway. “I was wondering… exactly how much do you know about Bakugou?”

* * * * * *

“Shouto, you’re home late.” Fuyumi glances up from her spot at the kitchen table with a raised brow. She’s got a laptop in front of her and several open files, as well as a half-empty cup of coffee. It looks like she’s expecting a long night.

Todoroki kicks off his shoes at the door. “Sorry. I went to visit a café with… a friend from school.” Better to lie than to have her asking questions.

“Oh, you made a friend? That’s good.” Fuyumi has already turned back to her work: crisis averted. Todoroki breathes a sigh of relief, but he isn’t in the clear yet. She snags his wrist when he tries to pass her to reach the stairs. “Hold on. Did you eat?”

“Fuyumi— “

“Don’t ‘Fuyumi’ me, you brat. I made you rice balls. They’re in the fridge, and if you don’t eat them all, I swear I’ll set your favorite sweater on fire—“

“Okay, okay.” Todoroki grimaces and switches directions to head into the kitchen. “I’m taking them. Geez.” He grabs the rice balls from the second shelf and retreats upstairs, sitting cross-legged on the floor to eat.

He’s exhausted after running from the shoot straight to the remedial lesson, then spending two hours at the café talking to Shigaraki—who isn’t actually a bad guy. He’s a bit awkward, and there’s definitely something strange about him, but he seems nice enough. He told Todoroki a lot about Katsuki. Apparently, they used to hang out in middle school.

Todoroki didn’t end up finding out what caused Katsuki to change so much, but he does know a few things about how to deal with him—courtesy of Shigaraki, whose number is now saved on his phone. The thing that stuck out the most was that he said to be ‘cute,’ whatever that means. Todoroki figures he’ll have to try out some different things.

It’s weird. For once, he’s feeling so hopeful that he can’t stop smiling. After he finishes the rice balls, he composes an email to his agent—and then deletes it and starts another one. He still isn’t quite sure how to quit. Can he just come out and say it? That somehow doesn’t seem like it’ll work. He’s never actually quit anything before, so he doesn’t know what one is supposed to say.

Ah, he’s getting a message. He'll worry about it tomorrow. Todoroki gets up from the floor and sits on his mattress before checking it.

from: Touya at: 10:36 PM.

>> Hey, I’m coming back to town this weekend. I tried to ask Fuyumi if she wants to meet up but she’s ignoring me. I think she’s pissed.

Touya, huh? It’s been a while. Todoroki last heard from him right after their dad died. Of course he’d only come to him when Fuyumi is mad.

to: Touya at: 10:38 PM.

>> She has a right to be mad. Did you apologize?

The answer is obvious, even before the response comes. Touya might be the most irresponsible person in the world.

from: Touya at: 10:40 PM.

>> No. She’s the one who’s overreacting. Why should I have to apologize?

Todoroki rolls his eyes. He’s not even going to bother responding to that. His brother probably won’t listen, anyway. Why is everyone so immature? Touya refuses to apologize, Katsuki keeps giving Todoroki the cold shoulder… The world is full of imbeciles.

Todoroki gets up to grab his bag with a sigh, pausing when he knocks something off his bed. His and Katsuki’s smiling faces beam up at him from the carpet, their arms wrapped around each other like they never want to let go. Todoroki forgot he had the picture on his bed. He’s been looking at it a lot recently, getting caught up in nostalgia. (He isn’t a very productive person.)

Katsuki really did look much better with blond hair. The black makes him blend in too much. Todoroki always thought he was the kind of person born to stand out, with his crimson eyes and hair the color of winter sunlight. In fact, the whole reason Todoroki chose his current look to trademark in the modeling industry was because of Katsuki. He was going for blond on the right side, but it turned out more white—and by then it was too late to change it.

Todoroki probably shouldn’t be obsessing over his hair so much. It’s pointless, especially when he’s been over about a million fantasy scenarios in his head—scenarios where things turned out differently. But Katsuki is a different person now: Todoroki knows that. He’s crass and unfriendly and completely impossible to figure out. He doesn’t want anything to do with him, but there are times when it seems as if there’s something between them. To put it simply, Katsuki’s hair is the absolute last of Todoroki’s problems.

But still, if even one thing were to return to how it used to be, then…

Ah, never mind. He shouldn’t get his hopes up.

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#finally updating chapters on tumblr rip me #there will be more chaps up on ao3 soon too #yay #uwu #calla.txt #my writing #tdbk #todobaku #bnha #model au

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 5 years

Text

Stars in Our Eyes and Hearts on Fire

A/N: So @sanderssidesfanfiction organized a Reverse Big Bang, and I’m so excited to finally unveil my fic based on @incubchii‘s wonderful fanart! Huge huge thanks to my beta, @bangthekobrakid, who I couldn’t have done this without! Anyway, without further ado, enjoy the fic (it’s a wild ride, and is probably both the angstiest and the fluffiest thing I’ve written)!

Pairings: endgame Romantic Analogince, Familial Moxiety, Romantic Remile

Wordcount: 10,922

Summary: Logan was a witch of great power- but also of great regret. One night, while flying over the city on his broom, he notices that his former flame was in trouble. Logan swoops in to save the day, and things only get more complicated from there. Can he and his newfound friends, a pair of twin brothers, save his once lost love from being hunted?

Warnings: breakups, feelings of regret, violence, injury, torture, attempted murder, death mention, passing out, kissing, anxious thoughts, food mention, distrust, magical exhaustion, crying, pain delirium, mild jealousy, thoughts of guilt, implied rough childhood, attempted stabbing, minor villain Deceit (he’s only in one scene), blood, relationship negotiations, soft makeouts, implied NSFW, mild insomnia, embarrassment, playful teasing, nearly getting crushed, cursing (lmk if anything should be added!)

The wind ruffled Logan’s hair, threatening to blow away his pointed hat, while the stars twinkled above him and filled his very being with magic. It wasn’t the most logical thing to be doing, flying on his broomstick over the city, but Logan didn’t care. Being up there, it felt right. Even if the people below him could potentially see him up there, thus exposing the regulars to magic, Logan felt it was worth it. He was feeling particularly reckless tonight… if only Roman could see him now.

Logan huffed, shifting so that he was leaning back on his broom, idly twirling his staff between his fingers while his other hand adjusted his hat. Why did his train of thought always shift to the hot-headed magma-witch? Was there nothing that didn’t make Logan’s heart twist painfully with the memory of Roman? He was supposed to be glad that he was rid of that unfairly gorgeous idiot. Yet, all he felt was regret.

Logan and Roman had studied magic together under the same master witch. Roman was a witch bound to two elements: fire and earth. Meanwhile, Logan was one of the rarest witch types: an astro-witch, bound to the celestial. The two of them had bonded over their oddities, making quite the unlikely pair. Logan had always studied hard, desperately wanting to live up to his title of astro-witch, meanwhile Roman was quite the show-off, flaunting both his earth and fire skills with no uncertainty. Such differences… it tore the two of them apart. And after their training was finished, things didn’t end well, and Logan hadn’t talked to or seen Roman since.

A sudden spark of red magic burst past Logan, nearly throwing him off of his broom. He quickly righted himself, turning to glare up at the spark that was shooting higher in the sky. It burst into a fiery explosion of reds and golds, and Logan’s heart clenched with fear. That was undoubtedly Roman’s magic. His gaze shot down to where the spark came from, and a horrified gasp choked its way out of his throat. Down below, in an alleyway, a swirling mass of shadow lashed at a beacon of red and gold. The bright beacon of light was flickering in and out, the shadows threatening to overtake it.

“Roman,” Logan gasped, eyes narrowing as he zoomed back towards the beacon of light and the shadows surrounding it.

The shadowy figures crept closer. Roman held his side with one hand, while the other was outstretched, magical flames dancing in his palm. He wasn’t sure how, but an entire band of shadow-witches had managed to jump him while he was on the way to visit two of his closest friends. Now Roman found himself cornered in an alleyway, his magic dangerously close to being depleted.

A sudden wave of shadows flew at Roman, and he desperately tried to summon a wall of flames to shield himself, but he was too late. The mass of shadows hit him square in the chest, and he was flung against the alleyway wall. Pain flared through his body, and the air was knocked from his lungs. He fell to the ground, dazed for a moment or two before desperately scrambling to his feet. His vision blurred and he stumbled to one side, eliciting cruel laughter from the shadow-witches.

“What’s the matter, sweet Prince?” one of them sneered. Tendrils of shadows shot out, wrapping around Roman and pinning his arms to his sides. He squirmed, trying to break free, but the shadows clenched tightly around him, causing the magma-witch to cry out in pain and fall to his knees. One of the witches came closer to Roman, summoning a sword made of shadows as they walked. The point was put beneath Roman’s chin, forcing him to meet the figure’s dark eyes.

“Roman Prince. You will pay for what you’ve done,” they snarled.

“Which would be what, exactly?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion. The figure growled, making a clenching motion with their free hand. Roman let out a pained yelp as the shadows cinched around him tighter.

“Don’t play innocent. You deserve this,” the figure hissed, and they raised the sword above their head, preparing to strike.

Suddenly, a bright bolt of light threw the figure to the side. Roman’s head whipped to the side, and his breath caught in his throat. Logan hovered just above the ground on his broom, staff brandished in front of him. He had a powerful aura about him, starlight twinkling dangerously in his eyes. He was more gorgeous than Roman remembered.

“Take care of Prince! I will deal with this interruption,” the figure snarled, jumping to their feet and summoning another shadow-sword. One of the figures flanking Roman nodded curtly, and in two brisk strides, they were in front of Roman, their hands pulsing with some sort of dark energy. He desperately tried to squirm away, but the shadows held him fast. The figure placed one hand on either side of Roman’s head, and the magma-witch screamed in pain. The dark energy pulsed through his skull, and Roman’s world was narrowed to the pure pain radiating through him.

In an instant, the pain was gone, as well as the shadowy tendrils keeping him bound, and Roman felt himself falling forward. A set of arms caught him, and Roman blearily tried to scramble away until he heard a soft and painstakingly familiar voice murmuring words of comfort. Through the pain-induced haze, Roman looked up and saw Logan, instinctively reaching out to caress the astro-witch’s cheek.

“Starshine?” he gasped weakly. A flush overcame Logan’s cheeks, and he covered Roman’s hand on his face with his own.

“Roman, you’re hurt- I need to heal you… but I’m not sure-”

“I have friends nearby… Patton and Virgil, a pair of twins- healers,” Roman hurriedly tried to explain, feeling his grip on consciousness fading fast.

“Patton and Virgil who? Where do they live?” Logan pressed, eyes wide and his expression becoming fearful.

“Picani,” Roman gasped out, the world around him and Logan’s face- his almost painfully beautiful face- fading in and out of focus. The astro-witch was pleading with him, possibly begging him to stay awake, but Roman couldn’t quite catch Logan’s words. With one last burst of strength, and before he could truly think about what he was doing, Roman leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Logan’s mouth. The astro-witch’s face flushed deeper, and Roman smiled softly, glad that he at least got him flustered one last time. And with that wistful thought, the magma-witch’s eyes fluttered shut, and he fell limp in Logan’s arms.

Virgil Picani sat on the roof of the joint apartment and tea shop he shared with his brother, Patton, and stared up at the stars. Shadows curled around him restlessly, and he sighed in frustration. Being a shadow-witch had its disadvantages, he supposed. One of them being that the shadows tended to darken around him because of his emotions.

“Need some tea, kiddo?” a voice piped up from behind him. Virgil jumped at the sound but looked over his shoulder to see his brother Patton, a solar-witch, standing behind him. He held two mugs of steaming tea, offering one of them to Virgil. He took the offered cup with a smile, and the shadows cleared slightly as he took a sip.

“Chamomile and lavender? You’re turning into Dad,” Virgil joked.

“Aw, Virge! Don’t tea-se me like that!” Patton replied, grinning from ear to ear as he sat down beside him.

“Ugh. You really are becoming Dad,” Virgil groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Patton retorted with a giggle.

“Nah. But if you start wearing colorful ties and cardigans, I’m staging an intervention.”

“But Virgil… I already wear cardigans!” Virgil let out a dramatic gasp at that, grabbing Patton’s shoulder.

“Patton, it may be too late for you! You’re turning into Dad!” he said with a laugh.

“Don’t you mean I’m evolving into a dad?” Patton grinned.

“Cartoon references! It may be too late!” Virgil cried, dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

“Technically Pokemon is a video game.”

“There was a cartoon too, I’m counting it,” Virgil scoffed. A comfortable silence settled between the brothers, and Virgil idly sipped at his tea. The shadows had finally calmed behind him.

“So. What’s got ya so restless?” Patton asked.

“I’m not restless,” Virgil protested. Patton raised an eyebrow, and the shadows twitched defensively behind him.

“You’re sitting on the rooftop, and the shadows were just swirling around you. Something’s got you worried,” he pointed out. Virgil let out a sigh, and took another sip of his tea.

“It’s Roman. He should have been here an hour ago.” Roman Prince was a good friend of theirs and often met up with the Picani brothers to hang out or discuss magic. It was also no secret that Virgil was harboring a bit of a crush on the magma-witch, but Roman was either clueless or didn’t care. Virgil tended to believe the latter, but Patton was pretty confident in the former of the two.

“Aw, well you know Roman! Probably got distracted, and he’ll tell us about his adventure when he gets here!” Patton exclaimed. Virgil’s lips quirked up into half a smirk, and he took another sip of his tea.

Suddenly, a burst of red magic shot up into the sky, just a few blocks away from Patton and Virgil’s apartment. Virgil’s heart clenched in his chest. That was Roman’s magic, no doubt. A flash of blue shot down towards where the magic originated from, and the shadows around Virgil pulsed with fear.

“Patton-”

“It’ll be okay, don’t panic, Virge,” Patton soothed.

“Don’t panic?! This a perfect time to panic! Roman must be in trouble,” Virgil exclaimed as he shot up to his feet. He stormed over to the door that led to their apartment, flinging it open before descending down the stairs. He practically flew through their apartment, grabbing his cloak off the hook before going down another set of stairs that led to the tea shop that Virgil and Patton owned. The brothers had named it Quali-tea Time, although the name was more Patton’s idea than Virgil’s. But Virgil didn’t have time to think about their adorable tea shop. Roman was in trouble.

“Virgil, wait!” Patton exclaimed. Virgil halted in his steps, having just affixed his cloak around his shoulders. He cast a glance back at his brother, who had his pointy gray hat clutched in one hand, and his wooden staff in the other. It was topped with a sun shape made of gold, with an orb in the center that glowed a soft yellow.

“Sorry. I just-”

“You’re worried, it’s okay. We’ll get him,” Patton soothed, placing his hat on his head firmly. Virgil nodded curtly, and the twins headed out into the night.

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled a limp Roman in his arms. For maybe the first time in his life, Logan felt completely clueless. Helpless, even. He barely knew any healing magic, and he doubted he could find the brothers that Roman had mentioned in time. The name Picani was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t place why and his brain was too frazzled to try and remember. All he could focus on was the soft, adoring smile Roman gave him before unconsciousness snatched him away. And, of course, the kiss that had sent fire skittering along veins and heat to Logan’s cheeks. How was it possible that Roman could be so alluring, even while battered and half-dead?

“Get away from him!” a voice snarled from the mouth of the alleyway. Logan gasped, placing Roman on the ground and springing to his feet. He took a defensive stance in front of him, brandishing his staff at the two figures that had stepped into the alleyway. One wore a hooded black cloak with purple patches, and shadows twitched around them restlessly. The other figure seemed to be the polar opposite, as they wore a light blue polo, a gray cardigan over their shoulders, and khakis. The only sign that they were magical was the pointed gray hat on their head, and the sun staff they held in one hand.

“Who are you, what do you want with him?!” Logan cried.

“Could ask the same about you,” the hooded figure growled. The shadows curled towards Logan menacingly, and he sent a warning blast of starlight from his staff in response. The shadows jumped back, as well as the two figures in the alleyway.

“An astro-witch?” the hooded figure gasped in surprise.

“Please, we’re Roman’s friends, we just want him back!” the individual with the gray hat pleaded. Logan furrowed his brow, magic simmering dangerously in the air.

“He was just nearly killed by a band of shadow-witches. Why would I trust another one?” Logan snarled.

“We’re two of his best friends, I’m Patton Picani and this is my twin brother, Virgil! We’re both gifted in healing magic, let me heal him and prove to you that we don’t wanna hurt him!” the one with the gray hat exclaimed. Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. These two were the brothers Roman had wanted him to find.

“Pat, you sure we can-”

“You’re the friends he wanted me to find,” Logan gasped, interrupting Virgil.

“Aww, he mentioned us?!” Patton squealed.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth? That he really told you about us?” Virgil demanded.

“My name is Logan Andromeda. Roman and I studied under the same master witch,” Logan explained, a little exasperated. He didn’t have time for this- Roman didn’t have time for this.

“The master witch, what was their name?” Virgil pressed.

“Thomas, Thomas Sanders. He’s a solar-witch,” Logan answered. Virgil and Patton seemed to share a sigh of relief.

“Okay. Your information seems to check out, although I’m not sure if I really trust you yet… but we don’t have a choice,” Virgil said, tone grim. Logan nodded curtly, and he stepped to the side to let the brothers take a look at Roman. Virgil darted over, dropping to his knees beside Roman. He placed a hand on his forehead, brow furrowing in confusion.

“What the hell happened to him?” he murmured.

“Like I said, he was attacked by a band of shadow-witches. I believe there was four or five of them that had ganged up on him. When I arrived, one of them was about to strike Roman down with a shadow-sword they had summoned. I disarmed them fairly quickly, but they had commanded one of the others to ‘deal with him.’ They attacked him with some sort of dark energy-” Logan’s voice cut off as Roman’s screams of pain echoed in his memory. “After I had dealt with them, the others scattered and ran off.”

“Thank you for saving him, Logan,” Patton replied, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze before kneeling next to Roman as well. He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the magma-witch’s chest. A soft glow emanated from Patton, and it began to seep into Roman’s body. He shuddered as the energy flowed into him, and his eyes fluttered open as he drew in a sharp breath. Logan could have sobbed in relief.

Patton suddenly slumped into his brother, the soft glow fading away. Virgil wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, expression twisted with concern.

“M’kay. I’m okay,” Patton insisted, voice slurring slightly as he tried to sit up.

“Hey, whoa, no you’re not. What did you do?” Virgil asked, supporting him as he sat up a bit straighter.

“Roman was… he was- closer to… closer to d-death than we-” Patton broke off into sobs, leaning against Virgil heavily.

“Pat? What’s-” Roman gasped out weakly.

“The loveable dork that is my brother nearly depleted his magic saving you,” Virgil huffed out with a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Logan found you… I knew he would,” Roman sighed, his voice soft and wistful.

“It… It was more like they found me, actually,” Logan chuckled.

“Smaaaart friends,” Roman said, voice slurring a bit.

“Get some rest, Roman. We’ll take you back to our place,” Virgil said with a soft laugh, reaching out to brush Roman’s hair from his eyes. Roman sighed, leaning into the touch. An unfamiliar emotion twisted in Logan’s gut. Were Virgil and Roman… together? It certainly seemed so, with how fiercely protective Virgil was of Roman. But then why had Roman kissed him? Perhaps he was too disoriented when Logan found him?

“Logan, can you take Roman? I’m gonna help Patton,” Virgil said, snapping Logan from his thoughts. He nodded, willing his staff away before walking over to Roman’s other side and scooping him up into his arms. He clung to Logan, nuzzling into his chest with a hum. Logan’s face flushed, and his gaze flicked over to Virgil. The shadow-witch seemed mildly annoyed but didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet, with Patton’s arm over his shoulder to support him.

“Where are we headed?” Logan asked.

“Our place. It’s a tea shop with our apartment above it. It’s only a few blocks from here, can you carry him that far?” Virgil asked.

“Yes. I am stronger than I appear, and Roman isn’t that heavy anyhow,” Logan replied. Roman made an indignant sound, muttering something about not being a feather-light damsel in distress. Virgil and Logan chuckled at that, and even Patton let out a light giggle.

“C’mon. Let’s go home.”

Somewhere along their journey, Roman had passed out again, this time from sheer exhaustion instead of pain. Virgil had convinced Patton to climb on his back, and the solar-witch had quickly slumped into unconsciousness, his face nuzzled into the crook of Virgil’s neck.

Eventually, they reached the home of the Picani brothers. The sign above the door read “Quali-tea Time”, and had a picture of a smiling teapot pouring out tea. Logan also noted that the door was painted in rainbow colors, and the sight caused a smile to quirk up on his lips.

Virgil shifted around a bit awkwardly for a moment or two, eventually fishing out a key from within his cloak. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, silently beckoning for Logan to follow him. Once inside, Virgil shut and locked the door behind him, while Logan took in the tea shop. Although the lights weren’t on, Logan was fairly certain the shop was filled with pastel shades and rainbows, if the exterior was anything to go by. There was a counter with barstools at it, where customers could order and pay for their tea. Shelves with various types of tea lined the walls, and there was a plush seating area with a fireplace off in one corner.

“C’mon. Our apartment is upstairs,” Virgil said, heading to a door towards the back of the shop. He opened it to reveal a set of stairs, and he adjusted his grip on Patton before heading up. Logan continued to follow him, being mindful of the unconscious magma-witch in his arms. Virgil flicked the light on when he reached the top, and Patton let out a sleepy, confused sound.

“It’s alright Pat, we’re home,” Virgil soothed, smiling softly to himself. The expression seemed almost… strange, on the shadow-witch’s face. Virgil hadn’t done more than scowl or frown since Logan had met him, and this soft, shy smile made an emotion that he couldn’t quite place unfurl in his chest. It was shockingly similar to what he once felt when he gazed at Roman, before harsh words were flung and the mere thought of the magma-witch’s dazzling smile only brought pain and regret.

“You can- uh, lay him down on the couch. It’s just past the kitchen nook… follow me,” Virgil said, snapping Logan from his thoughts. His face flushed slightly, and he hoped Virgil didn’t notice that he was staring at him. Why had he even felt such things about Virgil? Logan was still hung up on Roman, wasn’t he? Nothing made sense, but he pushed those thoughts aside and followed Virgil deeper into his apartment.

They walked through a small kitchenette area, and made their way over to a seating area with a couch nearly overloaded with pillows. The couch was set across from a television, and Logan could picture Roman and the Picani brothers sitting down among the many pillows and watching movies. Virgil clumsily cleared the couch, pillows flopping unceremoniously onto the floor.

“I’ll tidy that up in a sec, just lay Roman down for now. I’m going to get Patton to bed,” Virgil said, walking over to a door past the seating area. Logan nodded, although Virgil couldn’t see it. He walked over to the couch, leaning down and gently depositing Roman onto it. He instantly snuggled down into the couch, letting out a sleepy sigh. A small smile wormed its way onto Logan’s lips at the sight.

“How is he?” Virgil asked, causing Logan to jump. He hadn’t realized that Virgil had re-entered the room.

“I think he’ll be alright, just needs some time to recover. How is your brother?” Logan asked. Virgil huffed out a laugh.

“He’s pretty zonked out right now, but okay,” he replied. An awkward silence settled between the two, until Logan noticed the shadows shyly creeping closer and shuffling the pillows into a pile beside the couch.

“You could have just walked over and done that,” Logan teased.

“Hey, gotta get rid of this nervous energy somehow,” Virgil shot back.

“I suppose,” Logan replied, fighting back a yawn.

“Are you tired? The pillows make for a nice napping spot, I know from experience,” Virgil replied with a teasing smile.

“That… actually sounds like a good idea,” Logan said with a yawn, arms stretching above his head. Virgil’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“You seem… awfully trusting of us,” Virgil said, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Roman trusts you. Plus there is something… familiar, about your names. Specifically, your last name,” Logan replied. Virgil chuckled slightly, a blush creeping onto his face.

“Yeah… our Dad is Emile Picani,” he replied sheepishly. Logan gasped in realization. No wonder their names seemed so familiar to him. Emile Picani was a well-renowned herbal-witch, and his healing magic was legendary.

“I wasn’t aware that he had sons… it must be quite the reputation to live up to,” Logan commented.

“Yeah, that combined with our Pop being a dream-witch… growing up was interesting. But they never expected us to be like them, Dad always emphasized that we weren’t defined by who he and Pop were,” he answered with a shrug.

“A dream-witch?!” Logan gasped. Astro-witches like himself were incredibly rare, but dream-witches even more so. They could manipulate dreams and cause people to fall asleep with a single touch… such power was unheard of and often abused.

“Yeah… Dad met him soon after taking in Patton and I. His name’s Remy Picani- well, formerly Remy Morpheus. But then he married Dad and the rest is history I guess,” Virgil continued. A silence settled over the two as Logan let the information sink in. Something in Virgil’s tone implied that he and Patton had been through a lot, but he wasn’t certain that this was the time to press the subject.

“Well, guess I’ve bothered you enough. You get some rest, I’ll be in my room,” Virgil said, gesturing to a door back towards the kitchen area.

“Of course. Goodnight, Virgil.”

“Night.” The shadow-witch left the living room, shadows curling after him. As Logan watched him leave, he vaguely wondered how his life had managed to get so complicated so fast. With a sigh, he flopped into the soft pile of pillows and drifted to sleep almost instantly.

Roman’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up- or how he even fell asleep in the first place. His memory was a foggy mess… there was a fight- Logan was there? Patton and Virgil, too. He was in the Picani brothers’ apartment. But what woke him-

Someone was suddenly on top of him, their hand clasping over his nose and mouth, while their knee dug into his stomach. He let out a muffled cry of surprise, and his eyes widened at the glint of a blade in the darkness. He struggled beneath the figure in vain as it got harder to breathe, and the blade drew closer to his chest, just above his heart- he couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t be the damsel in distress again. A small burst of flames sputtered from his hand, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough to throw his attacker off of him. They slammed into the wall, but were back on their feet in an instant. Glowing golden eyes glinted at him in the darkness, and Roman scrambled backwards in fear, ending up falling to the floor with a loud thump. The sound startled what he had previously believed to be a pile of pillows, but was instead Logan.

“Roman, what’s-” his sentence cut off as he saw the fear in Roman’s eyes, and he quickly sprung to his feet, conjuring his staff in an instant. His gaze swiveled about, trying to find the source of Roman’s distress. The figure behind Logan crept closer, and the magma-witch’s eyes widened.

“Behind you,” he gasped out. Logan whirled around, and the attacker slashed at him with their blade. He cried out, stumbling backwards for a moment before regaining his footing. Logan glared at the golden-eyed witch, and sent a burst of starlight from his staff. They were thrown back once again, but sprang to their feet again and snarled at him in frustration.

Suddenly, before the attacker had a chance to try and strike Logan down, the shadows whipped out at them, disarming them and binding their hands behind their back. Roman glanced over to see Virgil standing a few feet behind him, and he practically melted in relief. Virgil gave Roman a small smile, which for whatever reason made his heart flutter ever so slightly. But before he could contemplate that, Virgil’s expression twisted into a scowl as he regarded the attacker.

“Kiddos? What’s going on?” Patton said, having emerged from his room at the sound of all the chaos. He had a fluffy blue blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his hair was unruly from being asleep.

“This individual broke in and tried to kill Roman. I managed to hold them off for a time, but luckily Virgil came in and restrained them,” Logan explained, his voice slightly breathless.

“Logan, are you okay?” Patton asked.

“I’m fine. Let’s just find out who the attacker is,” Logan said dismissively. Patton looked like he wanted to protest, but summoned a small sphere of light in his hands. It cast the room in a warm glow, and allowed them to see who the golden-eyed witch was.

The figure was a man who wore a black cloak edged with yellow trimming, and had dark hair that fell into his golden eyes. A jagged scar ran over half of his face, trailing from the top of his forehead to his lip. His blade, now discarded on the floor, was a curved dagger with twin snakes twining around the hilt.

“Who are you?” Virgil growled.

“No one of importance,” the figure hummed, sounding bored.

“I’d consider rewording your statement,” Logan said cooly, his staff humming with magic. The figure swallowed nervously, then let out a pained sound as the shadows clenched unexpectedly for a moment.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” Virgil snarled. He rolled his eyes, huffing out a sigh.

“Fine. The name’s Declan,” he replied smoothly.

“Why did you attack Roman?” Logan demanded.

“You know, I’d love to stand here and answer your questions all night, but I have a job to do,” Declan snarled, and his dagger flew to his hand. He tried to slash through his bonds, but the blade merely slipped through them, not breaking their hold. A shadowy tendril shot out and snatched the blade from his hand, bringing it over to Virgil.

“Dude, they’re shadows. You can’t cut through those. But good to know that you must be an earth-witch with a particular talent in metal manipulation,” Virgil said with a smirk. Declan scowled, squirming in the shadowy bonds.

“Are you in league with that band of shadow-witches?” Patton asked, his voice firm and eyes almost cold, a strange phenomenon for the solar-witch.

“What?! Those idiots? Oh please, I’m a solo assassin. I don’t need those morons,” Declan huffed.

“Thanks for telling us you’re an assassin. Now, why are there people after Roman?” Virgil pressed. Declan cursed under his breath, clearly frustrated that he had given himself away.

“Hell if I should know. Prince did something to piss someone off, and now there’s a rich bounty waiting for any assassin who kills him,” he replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“But I haven’t-” Roman’s voice cut off with a pained gasp as he tried to sit up.

“Roman!” Virgil gasped, eyes wide with concern. Unfortunately, Virgil’s sudden flash of panic at Roman’s condition caused his hold on Declan to slip for the briefest of moments. But that was all the assassin needed, breaking free of the shadows and summoning his dagger to his hand.

“Well, this has been fun, but the bounty is not worth this much trouble,” Declan scowled, before turning around and leaping out the open window.

“I’ll go after him,” Logan declared, but only managed to take a step forward before he winced and fell to his knees, hand clutching at his side.

“Logan!” Virgil cried out, rushing over to Logan before dropping to his knees beside him.

“M’fine,” Logan protested weakly, before he slumped against Virgil, eyes fluttering.

“Bullshit. You’re holding your side… he managed to get a hit on you, didn’t he?” Virgil pressed. Logan shifted uncomfortably for a moment, until Roman shuffled closer to both of them, expression twisted with concern.

“Jus’ a scratch,” Logan muttered, moving his hand. Both Roman and Virgil’s eyes widened as they saw the jagged cut running across his side, and the red rapidly blooming from it and onto his polo. With hardly a second thought, Virgil closed his eyes and ran his hand along the cut. Shadows trailed after it, before settling into Logan’s skin and leaving a mere scar behind. He let out a shaky breath once the cut was healed, opening his eyes.

“There. It’s no light-healing magic like Patton’s, but it gets the job done. You’ll probably feel a little sore and weak for a few days,” Virgil said with an apologetic hum.

“S’okay. Thank you,” Logan said softly, clasping his hand over Virgil’s. A light flush overcame the shadow-witch’s face, and Roman felt his heart thud the slightest bit faster in his chest.

“You’re- uh, you’re welcome,” Virgil stuttered, eyes darting around frantically, unsure of where to look. Logan smiled, and gave Virgil’s hand a comforting squeeze. Virgil met Logan’s gaze for a moment, then switched to look at Roman. The magma-witch had pink dusting across his cheeks as well, and lips parted in a somewhat surprised expression. This only caused Virgil to flush deeper, and let out a light chuckle. An emotion Roman couldn’t place settled over the three of them. It was strangely warm, and almost caring. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop.

Patton watched the nearly silent exchange between his brother, Roman, and Logan with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He could see what was happening as clear as day, but the three of them had absolutely no idea. Which was even more amusing, considering Patton had no desire for romance, dating, or anything of the sort.

“I think you three have something to talk about,” Patton piped up, breaking the tender moment.

“What?!” Roman spluttered, gaze whipping over to Patton. The solar-witch merely giggled in response, slipping the fluffy blue blanket off of his shoulders and draping it over the back of the couch.

“I’m aroace, not blind, Roman. I see what’s going on here,” Patton replied with a grin. A surprised squeak escaped Roman’s lips, while Virgil gestured uselessly behind him. Meanwhile, Logan seemed to be silently unraveling Patton’s words.

“But-”

“I’m not saying you have to talk anything out, but you probably should before things get… interesting. I’m betting people aren’t going to stop coming after Roman, so I’m going to go get some help,” Patton said, finger-combing his unruly locks as he began to walk out of the living room.

“Patton, you’re still recovering from healing Roman!” Virgil protested.

“I’ve gotten some rest, I’ll be fine. This can’t wait. Besides, Dad and Pop aren’t too far away,” Patton said, summoning his staff in one hand, and his broom in the other. Virgil frowned, but let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine. But be careful. And don’t forget your hat.”

“My hat!” Patton cried out, shifting his broom under one arm, then holding out his now free hand. His bedroom door flew open, his gray pointed hat zipping out and into his hand. Patton put on his hat with a determined smile, then took his broom in hand once more.

“I’ll be back soon. You three should talk. Love you!” Patton said, rushing out of their apartment, leaving the three witches to stare after him in mild bewilderment.

Logan mulled over what Patton had said. He wasn’t entirely sure of what the solar-witch was implying, but he had a niggling feeling that it had to do with… well, feelings. It was clear there was something between Roman and Virgil. And, much as it pained him to admit, Logan still cared deeply for Roman, in spite of everything that had happened. Not to mention that there was something about Virgil that just seemed to draw Logan in.

“There’s something I must confess to the both of you,” Roman blurted, before either of them could say anything. Virgil and Logan exchanged wary glances.

“Well… perhaps we should move to the couch, first,” Logan proposed, starting to rise to his feet. Roman and Virgil nodded, flushing slightly before standing up and making their way to the couch. Roman sat down in the middle, with Virgil at his left, and Logan at his right.

“So… uh, what was it you wanted to tell us?” Virgil asked, fidgeting with the ends of his cloak.

“Well… the first thing is that- that I… I really still care about you, Logan. I know I said some awful things… we both did. But I didn’t realize just how much I still cared about you until you saved me. Twice,” Roman said, looking down at his hands, which were nervously folding and unfolding. “And yet… I find myself caring deeply for Virgil as well.”

“What?!” Virgil shouted in surprise, cheeks flushing red.

“I know, I know. It’s strange, but true. I care for both of you. Very much,” Roman uttered softly, brown eyes warm and earnest. Virgil’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, the shadow-witch unsure of how to respond.

“Roman… I must confess that I too, still care for you very much. And perhaps the reason things didn’t work out before is that we were missing something. Someone,” Logan replied, flicking his gaze up to Virgil.

“I… what?” Virgil gasped, looking incredibly flustered. Roman’s reaction seemed to be more or less the same, except for the excited glint in his eyes.

“I’ve never been one for the ‘love at first sight’ sentiment, but there’s just… something about you, Virgil, that makes me want to reconsider,” Logan confessed softly. Virgil’s blush grew darker, if possible, and Roman looked like he was about ready to squeal with excitement.

“I… um…”

“I’ll admit, you came off as tough, powerful, and fearsome when I first met you, but there’s an underlying softness to you that is…” Logan’s sentence was cut off by Virgil suddenly surging across the couch, taking his face in his hands, and pulling him into a deep kiss. Logan made a startled sound, but quickly sank into the kiss. Virgil pulled away, a bit too soon for Logan’s liking, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have-” Virgil’s sentence cuts off as he suddenly realizes he’s practically in Roman’s lap, the magma witch having wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist.

“It’s alright, Virge. I don’t think Logan minded,” Roman said with a smirk.

“Ugh. That’s- that’s not- this is complicated. Roman, I feel like I’ve had a crush on you since forever, but I don’t- I’m not sure how I feel about Logan. But I just kissed him, and I really liked it- I don’t really know what I’m feeling,” Virgil rambled.

“Virgil, a kiss doesn’t have to be a commitment. If you’d rather just remain friends, I am fine with that. But for the record… I enjoyed kissing you as well,” Logan soothed, a slight flush over his cheeks.

“I think… I think I want to try. A relationship. With the two of you. I’m just scared,” Virgil said, refusing to meet either witch’s gaze.

“I’m scared too. But I think what we have, what we could be- it’s worth the fear,” Roman said, one hand rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“You’re scared? But you’re… you’re you! Brave and reckless… and- and all that stuff!” Virgil exclaimed. Roman chuckled, tugging Virgil the slightest bit closer to him.

“Oh Virgil… I’m afraid more often than you would think. I talk about going on grand adventures… but they can be terrifying. The fear of not coming home after a quest… but that’s what makes them an adventure. And in the end, it’s worth it. To have won, and to return with a noble story,” Roman declared, voice soft and eyes shining.

“Can you stop being so adorably dramatic? It just makes me wanna kiss you,” Virgil grumbled, but there was a soft, adoring look in his eyes.

“Guess I’ll just have to be more dramatic, if that’ll finally get you to kiss me,” Roman smirked.

“Shut up,” Virgil murmured, looping his arms around Roman’s neck and pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss. Roman seemed to melt for a moment, letting out a satisfied sound against Virgil’s lips. The arm around Virgil’s waist tightened, while the other hand reached up to run through his hair, causing a shiver to run up Virgil’s spine. He let out a sound akin to a moan, and Logan found himself shaking his head with a fond smile.

“Careful you two, I’m sure it won’t be long before Patton returns,” Logan teased. Roman broke away from Virgil with an indignant sound, face red. Virgil let out a snicker, covering his mouth with his hand soon after. Roman soon dissolved into giggles, and even Logan found himself laughing slightly.

“Oh Logan… I’ve missed that smart mouth of yours,” Roman sighed wistfully.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing about my mouth you’ve missed,” he replied with a smirk.

“Fair enough. C’mere you,” Roman said, carefully disentangling his hand from Virgil’s hair and reaching out towards Logan. The astro-witch chuckled, and leaned in. Roman’s hand rested on his cheek, and their lips met… it was everything Logan didn’t realize he was missing.

Emile hummed as he tended to his plants, a small watering can in one hand. They reached up and stretched towards him, their vines curling around his fingers. He huffed out a soft laugh, stroking the leaves lovingly.

“It's alright, I'm here,” he soothed. They retracted from his fingers, and if plants could purr, Emile believed they would have.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped his waist, and a nose nuzzled into his neck. Emile laughed again, turning his head to look down at his husband, who was now pressing soft kisses to his neck. He pressed a kiss to Remy's soft yet unruly hair, setting his watering can down.

“I'm here for you too, don't worry love,” Emile said with a grin. Remy let out a pleased hum, pulling back slightly to look Emile in the eyes. He twisted in his husband's warm grip, placing a hand on his cheek and kissing him lovingly.

“What're you doing up so late, babes?” Remy asked after pulling away.

“Couldn't sleep,” Emile shrugged, pressing another kiss to Remy's lips. Remy was frowning when he pulled away, but was stopped with a hand on his chest when he tried to kiss it away.

“I could help with that, you know,” Remy pointed out.

“You were sleeping soundly, for once. I didn't want to wake you,” Emile murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Remy's eyes.

“You're like… too sweet. But as you can tell, I woke up anyway. Bed feels empty and strange without you,” Remy hummed, pulling him down into a deep and passionate kiss. Emile laughed into the kiss, hands plunging into Remy's soft, thick hair.

“Mmm… I love you. Sorry for leaving bed,” Emile murmured against his lips once he pulled away.

“Betcha you'll find a way to make it up to me,” Remy smirked. Emile let out a low laugh, and leaned in once more.

A sudden blur of blue and gray bursting in from the window caused both witches to jump, Emile losing his balance and toppling backwards, taking Remy down with him. The two of them glanced over to see their son, Patton, looking a little disheveled with an urgent look on his face. Remy was the first to scramble to his feet, rushing over to Patton and stopping just short of pulling him into a hug.

“Patton? Hun, you okay?” Remy asked softly. Patton’s expression wavered for a moment before he threw himself into Remy’s arms, sniffling. The dream-witch hugged his son tightly, looking over Patton’s head at Emile, expression twisted with concern. Emile rose to his feet and walked over to Remy and Patton, wrapping his arms around both of them.

“What happened?” Emile asked in a murmur, gently rubbing Patton’s back.

“You remember our friend Roman?” Patton asked.

“The one Virgil has a crush on?” Remy asked. Patton nodded, tears beginning to spring from his eyes. Emile and Remy exchanged concerned glances once more, hugging their son tightly between them.

“Someone’s put a bounty on him, he’s almost been killed twice! Thankfully an old friend- well, they were more than friends- of Roman’s saved him, but then he got hurt too! I just… I don’t know what to do, we need your help,” Patton whimpered, burying his face in Remy’s chest.

“It’s okay hun, we’ll figure this out,” Remy murmured, gently running his hands through Patton’s hair. Emile pressed a gentle kiss to his son’s hair, then pulled away from the hug.

“I’ll grab my bag, and then we can head to your apartment,” Emile explained with a soft smile.

“Grab my bag too, sweetie? I’ve got my broom,” Remy said, shifting Patton into a one-armed embrace and holding his now free hand out. His broom flew into his grip, and Emile smiled at his husband’s dramatic antics before heading to their room and grabbing their respective bags- Emile’s a large floral handbag, and Remy’s a brown messenger bag. Both bags were enchanted so that any object could fit in it, no matter the size or weight.

Emile strode back into their main living space to see that Patton had now detached himself from Remy, wiping at his eyes before adjusting his hat with a confident smile. Emile smiled back before giving Remy his bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder, before giving Emile a smirk.

“What?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something, babes?” Remy asked, gesturing with his broom for emphasis.

“Oh! My umbrella!” Emile cried out, holding out his hand. After a few crashing sounds, and winces from Remy and Patton, his umbrella flew into his grip. Remy chuckled fondly, shaking his head.

“You and your Mary Poppins aesthetic,” Remy scoffed, but had a soft twinkle in his eye.

“Practically perfect in every way! Now, let’s go to Patton’s and see if we can sort this dilemma out!”

Remy wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he arrived at Patton and Virgil’s apartment, but his son curled up on the couch with Roman and another man he didn’t recognize was not one of them. Virgil was seated in Roman’s lap, one of the magma-witch’s arms around his waist. His nose was buried in the crook of Virgil’s neck, eyes closed and snoring softly. His other arm was around the darker haired man that Remy didn’t recognize, his face smushed against Virgil’s chest, one hand clutching at his cloak. Virgil was leaning his head on Roman’s, a soft look on his face as he gazed at the two men clinging to him.

Patton let out a sharp gasp, and Virgil’s head shot up at the sound. The movement nearly startled Roman and the other man awake, causing Virgil’s expression to twist to one of mild panic. But they both settled back asleep, and Virgil let out a sigh of relief.

“Calm down Patton, you’re gonna wake them up!” Virgil hissed.

“Sorry! I’m just so excited! It looks like you three talked things out!” Patton whisper-shouted. A light flush came over Virgil’s face for a moment, paired with a rare soft smile.

“Yeah… we did. They’re my… uh, well- we’re uh- dating. All of us. Together,” Virgil stammered, becoming more and more flustered.

“Well, I’m very happy for you three,” Emile said, smiling encouragingly. Virgil gave a small half-smile back, gaze shifting back to Roman and the other man.

“Thanks, Dad. And while you’re here, do you think you could take a look at Roman and Logan? Patton and I tried healing them the best we could… but I’d really feel better if you’d double-check our work,” Virgil asked, gave flicking between Logan and Roman, then back to Emile.

“Of course, Virge, I’d be happy to! But it seems they’re a little wrapped up with you right now,” he replied with a wink. Virgil flushed deeper, if possible.

“Daaaaad! I am so glad they’re not awake right now, you’re embarrassing,” Virgil muttered. Just as the words came out of Virgil’s mouth, Logan began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked tiredly for a moment until he saw Virgil. A soft, adoring look came across his face, and he leaned up to give Virgil a quick peck on the cheek. A small squeak escaped Virgil’s lips, and he glanced frantically between Logan and the others.

“Logan!” he hissed, face incredibly red.

“Mmm… you’re cute when you blush. Was kissing you okay? I didn’t overstep, did I?” Logan asked, brow furrowing with concern.

“No, you’re fine-”

“Good,” Logan interrupted with a murmur, pulling Virgil into a soft kiss. Virgil made a surprised sound into the kiss, but began melting into it- until Remy cleared his throat.

Logan jumped, breaking away from Virgil with a yelp. The noise awoke Roman, who made a tired, distressed sound, tugging Virgil closer to him in a protective manner. An incredibly deep blush was over Logan’s face as he saw Remy, Emile, and Patton standing in the living room. Virgil was murmuring soothing words to Roman, assuring him that they weren’t in danger, and his grip on the shadow-witch loosened.

“Remy, they were having a moment! And you spooked poor Roman!” Emile protested with a frown.

“Babes, I’m happy that our son is happy- but we came to help them with whoever’s trying to take out Roman, not see them be all cutesy and domestic,” Remy replied.

“Yes, of course- sorry Mr. Picani,” Logan stammered. Remy huffed out a laugh.

“Gurl, you can just call me Remy. And don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah. Besides, he and Dad are much worse,” Virgil teased with a smirk.

“Hey! Now wait just a minute-”

“You said something about helping us?” Roman piped up, before a full-on sass-off erupted between Virgil and Remy. The dream-witch quickly schooled his expression and nodded.

“Roman, do you know why someone would be after you?” Emile asked. Roman sighed, drawing one arm away from Virgil’s waist so that he could run a hand through his hair.

“That’s the thing- I have no idea,” he replied.

“Are you sure? What about your adventures, you’re always running into unfriendly people,” Patton pointed out.

“But I haven’t come across anyone as of late! The last big adventure I had was slaying a dragon that was terrorizing people,” Roman said with an irritated huff. Remy and Emile exchanged nervous glances.

“Is everything alright?” Logan asked, but the two of them didn’t seem to hear him.

“You don’t think that-”

“Emile, it’s been years, decades since one’s been seen or even heard of!”

“The same could be said about you.” Remy let out a frustrated sigh, then turned to Roman.

“Are you absolutely sure it was a dragon you killed?” he asked.

“I think I know a dragon when I see one, Remy,” Roman huffed, expression twisted with confusion and frustration.

“Are you sure? Think about its eyes, its mannerisms, did anything strike you as strange about it?!” Remy demanded.

“What? I don’t know! It was a dragon, it was hurting people, so I put an end to it!” Roman snapped.

“Pop… what are you trying to say?” Virgil asked carefully, gaze flicking between Roman and Remy.

“A dragon-witch might be targeting Roman,” Emile replied gravely. A shocked silence settled over them for a moment, until Logan spoke up.

“But- they’re even more unheard of than a dream-witch or an astro-witch!”

“Yeah! And how could one be after Roman if he killed them?” Patton asked.

“There could be more than one dragon-witch. Or it could be one of their dragons that Roman killed. It’s hard to say,” Emile explained.

“See, this is why I keep telling you all of these adventures are a bad idea! You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Virgil huffed.

“The dragon was hurting innocents! I couldn’t just sit there and let people die!” Roman protested.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn noble and heroic?! It’s both the most frustrating and charming thing about you,” Virgil grumbled.

“You think I’m charming?” Roman smirked.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Virgil exclaimed, burying his face in Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman, where was the dragon’s lair? Maybe if we went there, we could figure out what exactly happened,” Emile suggested.

“It was in the old subway system under the city,” Roman replied.

“Then it’s settled. We head to the old subway system in the morning,” Remy said.

“Why not now? We’re all awake and ready to go!” Roman protested.

“Gurl, haven’t you been attacked twice?! Y’all need rest before we try and take on a dragon-witch!” Remy scolded.

“I agree… but it may not be safe here. An assassin has already come here, there’s no telling who else may know of our location,” Logan pointed out.

“Hun, I’d like to see them take on a dream-witch and the most notorious herbal-witch,” Remy said with a confident smirk. Emile blushed slightly at Remy’s proclamation, but nodded.

“Yeah, and Logan did a pretty good job of protecting me earlier,” Roman cooed, leaning over to kiss Logan’s cheek.

“I got wounded.”

“Virgil healed you!”

“I’d prefer not having to heal either of you.”

“Okay lovebirds, that’s enough. Let me take a look at Roman and Logan to make sure that they’re healed up okay, then you all can get some rest,” Emile said, tone making no room for argument.

He looked over Logan first, then Roman. He checked over Virgil too, despite his protests that he was fine. The three of them then trudged to Virgil’s room, none of them needing Remy’s dream magic to help send them to sleep. Emile sent Patton off to bed, despite his insistence that he didn’t need to rest. However, he was practically asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. It reminded Emile of the days when Patton and Virgil were just children, just after he had married Remy.

“You should rest too,” Remy murmured, arms wrapping around Emile’s waist and nose nuzzling his neck.

“What happened to potential assassins not being able to take on you and me?” Emile teased.

“I’ll wake you if anything happens, promise,” Remy murmured.

“Fine,” Emile sighed, letting himself be led to the couch. Remy sat down first, and Emile laid down with his head in his lap, letting Remy stroke his hair until he fell asleep.

The next morning was calmer than expected, with Patton and Emile making breakfast for everyone. Logan and Virgil hardly left Roman’s side, both of them equally paranoid about how he was holding up despite Emile’s okay on his condition. They shuffled through their morning routine, a little different from what they usually experienced on their own. Roman didn’t mind it one bit- in fact, he felt he could get used to it, waking up with Logan and Virgil.

After they had eaten and rounded up their various magical paraphernalia, their quest could not be put off much longer. The band of witches set out to the abandoned subway. It was a bit of a trip from Patton and Virgil’s apartment, but with their brooms (and Emile’s umbrella) they made the trip in no time.

“So where’s the dragon?” Remy asked, voice echoing in the empty subway cavern. Scorch marks could be seen all over, as well as parts of the tunnels that had completely collapsed, leaving behind only rubble.

“That’s the thing, it just went poof after I killed it. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time,” Roman explained.

“What?! Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?!” Virgil demanded.

“Hey! I’ve had a very stressful past few days! Details slipped my mind,” Roman protested sheepishly.

“How about the detail that you should check to see if the dragon you killed is actually dead? Or that the dragon is actually a dragon?” a voice snarled from behind them. They all whirled around, Logan and Virgil taking a defensive position in front of Roman. Patton stood beside his brother, while Remy and Emile were in front of the four younger witches.

Before them stood a tall woman wearing a sleek bodysuit that seemed to be made of shimmering green scales. Her dark hair was piled into a haphazard bun on the top of her head. If the horns protruding from the top of her head weren’t enough to prove what she was, then the fiery orange-red reptilian eyes certainly were. She was a dragon-witch.

“Um… heyyy, about before-” Roman started, but was cut off by Virgil elbowing him.

“Don’t make this worse than it already is, Princey,” Virgil muttered. The dragon-witch moved as if to step closer, but halted by a firm glare from Remy.

“Gurl. Don’t even think about it,” he snarled, golden dreamsand beginning to swirl between his fingertips. The dragon-witch arched an eyebrow, dark laughter rumbling in the back of her throat. She threw her head back and began to full-on cackle. Remy gritted his teeth, and with a defiant yell, hurled his dreamsand at the witch. Golden tendrils surged through the air- but ended up curling through nothing. The dragon-witch had vanished.

“Where did she-”

“REMY!” Emile cried out, but his husband turned around too late. The dragon-witch was behind him, hands having morphed into claws. She slashed them across his face, and Remy cried out, stumbling backwards.

“NO!” they cried out in unison, Virgil’s voice swelling above the rest as a wave of shadows flew from his fingertips, hitting the dragon-witch in the chest and sending her sprawling. Emile and Patton rushed to Remy’s side. Emile kneeled beside him and pulled the dream-witch into his arms. Patton’s hands flew to his mouth when he saw the heavily bleeding cuts over his father’s face. Remy let out a whimper, eyes fluttering and tears of pain mixing with the blood trailing down his cheeks.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay, my sweet Bedtime Bear,” Emile soothed, his voice trembling as tears dripped down his face. Some of them landed in Remy’s cuts, the tears causing them to heal slightly.

“Thought ‘m more of a Sweet Dreamsss Bear,” Remy slurred. Emile choked out a laugh, brushing Remy’s hair out of his face.

“Maybe now’s not the time for cartoon references,” he murmured.

“Youuuuu ss-started it,” Remy pouted.

Patton let out a sudden gasp, and Emile’s gaze shot up to him as he slammed the end of his staff into the ground. A shimmering golden dome materialized above them, just in time to stop a massive dragon claw from crushing them. A frustrated roar was heard, and the claws came down, again and again, Patton letting out a pained gasp with every hit to the dome. His body was trembling with the effort to keep the barrier up, and sweat trailed down his brow.

“Patton…”

“Don’t worry about me, heal Pop!” Patton cried out. The dome was hit again, and Patton let out a shout as he fell to his knees. The barrier flickered, but stayed up as Patton leaned against his staff, gripping it firmly with both hands.

A burst of starlight hit the dragon-witch, soon followed by a wave of shadows and a blaze of fire. She roared in pain, stumbling back from the golden dome. Patton glanced over to Logan, Virgil, and Roman, giving them a weak smile before slumping to the ground with a pained sound. The golden dome flickered out, and Virgil was at his side in an instant.

“Nononononono, Patton, don’t do this to me, c’mon- not like this, please-” Virgil begged, shadows clinging to him and swirling anxiously as he took his brother into his arms. Patton’s eyes fluttered open, and Virgil sobbed in relief.

“‘M okay, jus’ tired,” Patton murmured.

“Well, if you weren’t sleepy, I would be able to help you with that, hun,” a voice piped up from beside Virgil.

“Pop!” Virgil and Patton cried out in unison, seeing Remy standing beside them. The cuts had healed to become just faint lines against his face. Emile stood at his husband’s side, smiling in relief as he gazed at him and his sons.

An enraged roar broke the Picani family out of their reverie, and their gaze snapped to see the dragon-witch stumbling backwards against the old subway system’s wall. Bursts of fire and starlight rained down at the witch, Roman and Logan fighting together in tandem- almost like a practiced, graceful dance.

“I’ll take care of Patton, you two go help Roman and Logan,” Emile said, already scooping Patton up into his arms.

“But what do we do?” Virgil asked, glancing over to the dragon-witch nervously. No matter how many hits Logan and Roman got on her, she would get back up, jaws snapping and spitting fire.

“You three keep her distracted long enough for me to use my dreamsand without her noticing. Once she’s asleep, we turn her in to the Board of Master Witches. They’ll figure out what to do with her,” Remy explained.

“Sounds good, Pop. Be careful,” Virgil said.

“You too, hun. Go help your boyfriends,” Remy replied with a wink. Virgil spluttered for a moment or two, blushing, before turning and running to help Logan and Roman. Logan caught sight of Virgil first, expression flashing with concern. He sent another burst of starlight from his staff before rushing over to Virgil. He gently grasped his shoulder, eyes searching for any injuries.

“Are you okay? How is your family holding up?” Logan asked, gazing softly into Virgil’s eyes.

“They’re okay, Pop has a plan,” Virgil said, then explained Remy’s plan to him. The astro-witch nodded curtly, about to pull away and tell Roman the plan, but hesitated.

“I’ve never been one for superstitions, but-” he paused to press a soft kiss to Virgil’s lips. “A kiss for good luck.”

“Good luck,” Virgil gasped out, practically breathless from such a simple, soft kiss. Logan smiled, then turned to run and explain the plan to Roman. Virgil watched him leave for a moment, until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The dragon-witch was getting up from Logan’s most recent blast of starlight, and her angered gaze was zeroed in on Logan and Roman. Something snapped inside Virgil. He couldn’t let them get hurt.

“Dragon-witch!” Virgil cried. Her head snapped to glare at him, but Virgil stood his ground, glaring right back. Tendrils of shadow writhed and whipped behind him, and Virgil was surprised to see a spark of fear run through the dragon-witch’s amber eyes. The tendrils lashed out at her, pinning her front claws to the ground. Her massive wings flapped as she roared in frustration, trying to free her claws.

A burst of starlight hit her side, and a mighty roar shook the old subway system. She breathed a plume of fire at Logan, but Roman countered it with his own fire. With his other hand, Roman summoned some of the rubble towards him, and it swirled around him for a moment before he sent it flying at her. She roared again, and Logan sent another burst of starlight straight into her mouth. The dragon-witch shrieked and writhed, but Virgil’s shadows held firm.

“Gurl, you sound so overtired! Bedtime for you, bitch!” Remy shouted, dreamsand swirling around him before it shot forward into the dragon-witch’s head.

“No!” she shrieked, before her eyelids fluttered and her body slumped to the ground. The dragon form shifted and melted away, and she soon was in human form, fast asleep. Virgil’s shadows retracted, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“We did it!” Roman squealed, rushing over and wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist, lifting him up and spinning around with him in his arms.

“Put me down! And could you be any louder? We just got her to sleep!” Virgil hissed. Roman gave him a cheeky grin, setting Virgil down but still keeping his arms around his waist. Virgil opened his mouth again- probably to reprimand Roman- but he was cut off by a pair of lips meeting his own. When Roman pulled away, his grin was brighter and his gaze soft and loving.

“I’m sure your Pop can get her to sleep again,” Roman murmured.

“You’re insufferable,” Virgil muttered.

“Yes, but I believe I prefer him that way. It can be rather charming,” Logan said, walking over to them and dropping a kiss on Roman’s head. The magma-witch flushed bright red, causing Virgil to smirk.

“That’s our Roman. So charming it’s insufferable,” Virgil agreed, loving the blush that danced along Roman’s cheeks.

“Alright you three, how about we head home?” Emile’s voice piped up, and the three witches turned towards him. Patton was still in his arms, although he was more alert. Remy was just behind him, the dragon-witch slung over his shoulder and snoring softly.

“Home sounds fantastic,” Virgil said. Logan and Roman nodded, and the witches headed out of the old subway system, the threat over their heads finally gone.

Logan woke up to sunlight streaming through the window, strong arms around his waist, and someone’s head against his chest. He blinked in confusion for a moment, not quite recognizing where he was. But then, soft kisses were trailed up the back of his neck, and Logan remembered in an instant.

“Good morning, Roman,” he murmured, turning his head to look his boyfriend in the eyes.

“Shhh… too much talking, not enough kissing,” Roman pouted. Logan rolled his eyes, but leaned in to press a kiss to Roman’s lips. When Logan began to pull away, Roman followed and kissed him deeper, causing Logan to let out a soft gasp. He could feel Roman’s smirk against his mouth as the two continued exchanging soft, passionate kisses. One of Roman’s hands inched underneath Logan’s shirt, and Logan gasped again.

“Hey, some of us are trying to sleep here,” Virgil grumbled, his voice muffled against Logan’s chest. Logan broke away from Roman with a laugh.

“Sorry Virgil, you know how Roman gets,” Logan teased.

“Hey!”

“Only teasing, love,” Logan said, still not used to the thrill that went through him whenever he said that. Love. It had only been a few weeks since they had defeated the dragon-witch, and Roman, Virgil, and Logan’s relationship had started. But Logan was certain of his feelings, for one of the first times in his life. He loved them.

“Hey, you guys are adorable, but am I gonna get a good morning kiss here or not?” Virgil huffed.

“Of course, my dear. Apologies for forgetting you,” Logan replied, shifting towards him again. Virgil leaned up to press his lips to Logan’s, the astro-witch running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. He let out a sudden gasp into the kiss, as Roman had begun kissing up his neck again.

“Roman!” Logan gasped out. Roman smirked against his neck, pressing another soft kiss there.

“Sorry Starshine, you’re just so kissable this morning,” Roman murmured.

“I’d have to agree. C’mere?” Virgil asked, a little bashful. Logan smiled, and leaned in once more.

As the three of them exchanged soft kisses for most of the morning, Logan couldn’t believe his luck. Just weeks earlier, his heart had been filled with regret. But now his once lost love was back, and he had Virgil now too. And he would fight a thousand dragon-witches if it meant they were forever by his side.

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