#link barks for fun its true

[tealclover]

The Boy and the Bunny

Legend was given a chance to turn back time, to save Hyrule from a deathly fate, and he took it. Nobody told him he would be expected to do so as a rabbit.

Link is just happy to have a traveling companion on his way to help the princess.

(1182 words)

“Crap!” Legend barked, diving to dodge a projectile that nearly missed his head. He flattened himself to the ground, hiding within surrounding overgrowth as he crawled several paces closer to his target. 

He’d have been done with this fight ages ago if he’d had even a single weapon on hand, but apparently his entire arsenal had collectively decided to ditch him at the last portal. Nevermind the fact that his whole current predicament was absolute BS.

When Nayru – the oracle, not the Goddess – recruited him a few hours ago, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

The fact that the Veteran was currently struggling to get himself past an octoroc of all things was embarassing. More than embarassing. Mortifying.  

He was so glad the others weren’t here to see this because that made up only half of his current humiliation. 

The other half of it had to do with the fact that, when his fourth attempt to outmanuever his opponent resulted in a face-full of rock, what came out of his mouth was not a pained shout, but a pitiful little squeak as he was flung through the air several yards back. Stubby limbs flailed uselessly for purchase until he finally rolled to a stop. When he shoved himself upright again, dirt trickled down rosy pink fur, and his long ears spun around madly in an attempt to catch the sound of his approaching foe. It was all he could do to leap clear before a barrage of stone-pellets blitzed the patch of grass he’d just stood in not half a second prior.

Rabbits were not built to fight.

Though if he could just get around the stupid thing, he shouldn’t have to. Rabbits were supposed to be fast, weren’t they?

Not fast enough, he lamented sourly when the octoroc manuevered its way yet again into his field of vision.

There weren’t words to describe how much he loathed this situation.

How did Legend keep getting himself caught up in these sorts of predicaments? One would think that after six-and-a-half adventures’ worth of flaming Tokay garbage he’d put up with, the Goddesses would have had their fun by now and moved along to some other sorry sap for heroic humiliation and entertainment.

Well, apparently not, because here he was yet again. Attempt number five had him sprinting for all he was worth, ducking and swerving every which direction in a frantic getaway. If the rapid-fire spitballing was any indicator, he had successfully managed to retain the monster’s undivided attention for the some seven-odd minutes, despite his current status as a small, unremarkable forest critter. Either that thing had a serious craving for rabbit roast, or it had a thing against the color pink. True to form, fabled hero luck was certainly holding up today.

As if in direct response to his musings, an octo-squeal sounded, accompanied by the familiar high-pitched release of octo-gas. Following that was a somewhat timid but curious “Hello?”  

The voice was a bit different than he remembered – a bit higher, more youthful, more heavily accented (or maybe it was a lisp) – but it was unmistakably familiar, and exactly what he was looking for. 

It was always nice when convenience decided to be a thing that existed. Even if the timing of it all ensured that his dignity was nothing but crumbled remains on the ground.

Standing mere meters ahead of him with a sword in hand and a dusting octoroc at his feet, stood Hyrule. Younger than he was used to, but still bright-eyed and curious and very much alive.

If Legend hadn’t gained years’ worth of experience stuffing all of his emotions into bottles and chucking them into perilous places, he might have cried. 

Oh. Wait.

He was crying.

Fantastic. Like he wasn’t humiliated already.

Fortunately, the kid didn't seem to notice yet, as fascinated as he was with the rabbit. An uncertain smile flitted on his face as he pinched his green tunic in a silent question. 

Yeah, a clothed rabbit out in the middle of a wasteland wasn't exactly subtle. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know I look weird," he grumbled, swiftly swiping at his eyes before hobbling over a few steps. The sword in the other’s hands kept him from getting too close though. Legend knew who he was, but Hyrule didn't yet know him. For all he knew, he was standing in front of his next meal.

(And wasn't it just peachy, that Legend had compared himself to food twice in the past two minutes? Why did he have to be a rabbit of all things , easy pickings for monsters and scrawny children alike…)

"Are you a monster?" Despite the implications of the question, it was asked with much more curiosity than caution. Hyrule was not afraid of Legend in the slightest, and even knelt down to observe him at eye-level. He didn’t sheath his sword though, unfortunately. Smart kid.

“If I was, that octoroc sure didn’t care.”

“You don’t look like a monster,” the boy remarked thoughtfully. Then, with only a second’s warning, his hand flitted out. Legend flinched back, thinking the other was making a grab for him, only for tiny fingers to rest on his head. The hero-turned-rabbit sat stock-still, torn between indignation and long-suffering while Hyrule happily scratched between his ears.

Well. At least he wasn’t going to eat him.

Though maybe he’d rather get eaten.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Legend grumbled, shoving the offender’s arm away. The boy giggled, eyes shining as his arm came to rest on his knee. “You know, if I was a monster, I’d have bitten your hand off just now. You really shouldn’t just touch things like that.”

“Are you lost?” The Traveler asked, ignoring him completely. Legend twitched. Hyrule, of course, misinterpreted his annoyance for an affirmation. “You are? Do you need help?”

“I don’t need-!” Legend began sharply, then cut himself off. Getting angry wasn’t going to help anything. “I’m not lost,” he explained evenly, pinching his nose. 

Hyrule didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he gave their surroundings a cursory glance. Finally, he sheathed his sword and offered both his hands to the rabbit in a silent invitation. Legend, reluctantly curious, swallowed the last bit of his pride and stepped toward the boy’s waiting hands where he was picked up and cradled against the other’s chest like a baby. “Let’s go find your home.”

Did this kid have cotton in his ears? “I just said I’m not-” That was when the realization struck him. “Wait. Can you understand me?”

Hyrule gave him a big smile and stood up but didn’t answer him. Legend groaned. “Of course you don’t.” That was just peachy. In comparison to the Rancher, Legend had only One Thing going for him in this form, and that was his ability to communicate verbally. Now he didn’t even have that. What did the Goddesses expect him to do in this predicament?!

Nothing, probably, his mind reminded him darkly.

He scowled. Screw that. Helpless rabbit or not, he was going to do something.

He wasn’t going to let Hyrule down a second time.

Just a fun idea I wanted to play with. :) Quick interest check. Would anyone be interested in seeing something like this continue?

#linked universe #lu hyrule #lu legend #bunny legend #lu fanfiction

[jadekitty777]

Heartsick: Chapter 2

Fun fact: Did you know the person I choose to be first in the tags is whose perspective the chapter will be in?

You do now lol

Day 2: Secrets

Dedicated to: PidgeonPostal

Rating: T

Words: 2K

Summary: It's been five months since James recovered his true heart, Clover gained a metal one and Qrow's became more attuned to the woods than ever before. Five months since Tyrian's poison was eradicated from the soil. Five months... since Clover, Qrow and James agreed on a group partnership (and that was honestly the best part). 

Like the tree tops reaching for the sky, it seemed like there was nowhere for the three of them to go but up. 

So why, then, did Clover feel like he was being cut down at his roots? [Witch AU]

Ao3 Link: In Which a Dragon Attacks

~

Qrow emerged between the oaks from the southern side, patting one of the wizened trunks as he passed it. The trees of this forest were centuries older than him. There was a structure to their root system he’d only understood by experiencing it, impressed by the way the trees knotted together into a single structure, the older foliage draining water and nutrients to the younger, lending strength so they could grow and build healthy systems to keep out invasive pests like bark beetles and stand up to seasons of drought. Fascinating in the way they kept one another alive.

A community of nature that he’d been welcomed into. So, it was easy to feel the distress even when it was coming from miles away.

“Everything well?” James asked, looking up from his little trough of blue roses. The wicker hat he wore was utterly ridiculous, large and floppy, the string that tied around his chin a bright blue – but it was nigh impossible to ignore Clover’s enthusiasm when he presented the gifts he found whenever he went into town.

Qrow knew, because he’d tried. Once.

His Pomeranian-dotted socks laughed back at his weak will with glee.

“As well as it can be.” Qrow replied as he crossed the clearing. “Just a bit of fire blight on the southern side. Nothing a bit of pruning couldn’t handle.”

James teased, good-naturedly, “Why Qrow, you sound almost like an arborist.”

“Better to be that than a florist.” He snarked back.

It had become a bit of a running joke between them. Started by himself of course, because he couldn’t help but poke fun at the once strict and militaristic man picking up such a frilly hobby such as gardening – but then the trees started to call to him and James immediately latched onto some well-deserved payback as their interests began to align.

The only difference was everything James learned came from a book; everything Qrow learned came from the trees themselves. There was history and wisdom in every growth ring, there to be gathered if he was kind enough to ask. So, he did and he learned, more than he thought he ever could about how this little place protected itself both naturally and magically.

In a way, it made him feel secure – because the forest would warn him of danger well before it reached them. He could keep his newfound union safe.

There wouldn’t be another Tyrian. In that, he swore.

No sooner had he thought that, then did a screaming start up from the house.

He and James shared a panicked glance before leaping into action, rushing through the back door.

“Clover?” His shout echoed as they followed the yells, worry rising.

Only to fall away into befuddlement at what he saw as they turned the corner.

Clover was sat on the floor of the hall, smacking at the little metal dragon latched onto his big toe with a towel. “Off! Get off!”

A tiny, muffled voice came from the dragon. “Not until you tell me what you did with my brother you ugly-hearted little ba-!”

“Tai?!” Qrow cried.

His surprise somehow brought a semblance of calm to the situation, the wire whiskers of the dragon twitching before it let go of its grip on Clover, steel head swiveling. “Qrow!” Metal squeaked as he bounded over. “Oh, thank the Gods! I saw this empty stranger in your home and thought you’d been kidnapped.”

“Empty?” Clover repeated confusedly as he rubbed his foot.

Qrow’s brow wrinkled. “Clover’s not a stranger, he’s – wait. Why is your first assumption that I got kidnapped?!”

“You’re very kidnap-able.” Was Tai’s nonsensical explanation.

“What does that mean!”

James cleared his throat, poking his head around Qrow’s shoulder to say, “I believe what is being said is that your inhibitions are often… foggy.”

That wasn’t fair. He hadn’t had a drink in years. Not since before Atlas.

“James?!” It was Tai’s turn to cry.

“Hello Taiyang, it’s been a while. Sounds like we have a lot to catch up on.”

~

“See?” Qrow said as the, rather long, story came to a close. “Now can you do me a favor and not bite my boyfriends?”

Tai’s metallic tail thumped irritably on the low-end table. “Well how was I supposed to know?! It’s not like you ever check in.”

Ouch.

But he wasn’t wrong. Ever since Qrow had moved here, he’d isolated himself almost entirely, only leaving his forest sanctuary for necessities he couldn’t just magic out of thin air. Tai was the only one to ‘visit’ – and only ever like this, possessing one of his many trinkets to talk through. Other than that, his contact with the outside world had been limited at best. And it wasn’t like most people were itching to explore a cursed forest anyways.

At least until James appeared on his doorstep that is.

On the couch beside him, Clover lent forward, green eyes alight with interest as he reached out to poke a whisker. “I’ve never seen a projection spell like this before. How do you do it?”

Qrow tried not to wince.

Tai took it much better. “A former wife of mine specialized in Long Distance Movement. My specialization is Soul Reading.” He held up a clawed foot made of bent and welded nails to himself. “This was the result.”

Clover’s jaw dropped. “You magic bonded.”

“Twice, as I recall.” James added in his most disappointed commanding officer voice.

Despite a face of steel, the little dragon managed to appear disgruntled. “You’d understand if you were in love.”

“I am.” He replied matter of factly. “Doesn’t change my opinion.”

It was such a James answer, Qrow only rolled his eyes.

His former captain didn’t seem to share in his opinion. “Where’s your sense of romance James?” Clover reached out, cupping his hands underneath the dragon and lifting him up. “So you got astral projection! That’s so amazing. What was it like, bonding to another mage?”

Qrow sunk back into the cushions as Tai started to regale the old tale with such ease, that he didn’t know whether to feel proud or jealous.

They were old wounds, but thinking back on them made them flare like something new.

When Raven had proposed the idea to Tai to share one another’s magic, just days before Yang’s birth, she’d fooled them all. He’d remembered his best friend’s excitement as he came bursting into the room, unable to wait even a second before telling him.

“I think… she’s really to committed to this. To us. And our family.” Tai had said then. Tentative. Hopeful. And completely in love.

Qrow had believed it too.

Three days after the ceremony, Raven had taken her new ability to see through lies and ran off and never once looked back.

Tai had spent a countless number of afternoons in the sun of his backyard, having long-distance arguments Qrow never heard a word of, even when he asked.

He could only be there to pick up the pieces when Tai finally accepted she was never coming back and let the hurt break him.

Decades later, he still hadn’t forgiven his sister for it. Never planned too either.

“Now Summer, well her magic was really something special. Hers focused on Animation. She could bring anything to life with just a touch.” Tai’s tone had changed. Wistful. Dreamy. “She was amazing.”

Clover’s smile was empathetic. “Sounds like it.” A pause, then he whirled towards Qrow. “Wait. Is that how the mug works?”

“Yeah. It was the first thing she made afterwards.” He grinned at the memory. “She was kinda pissed about it actually. Thought it would be cooler.”

“Only at first!” Tai cut in, indignant, metal whiskers frazzling into little lightning bolts. “It came in handy on a lot of undercover missions as I recall.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact your magic is lame.”

“Don’t make me come over there and bite you.”

Clover lifted Tai a little higher, as if that would stop him. “So what happened to yours after?”

“Hm?” Tai peered down at him from over his wrists. “Well, let’s just say I didn’t used to be able to move around like this when I projected out my soul.”

The captain’s grin was stretched as far as it could go, eyes lit up like sparklers. “Wow. That’s so incredible. James, Qrow could you imag-”

“No.” They both said at once.

“What? But-”

Qrow leveled him with a look. “Cloves, I adore you, but my magic’s not exactly bonding-friendly.” Too much mess and chaos.

“And even if I didn’t think it was an inanely outdated practice,” James said, voice loud enough to cover Tai’s huff. But then it dipped, low, almost… uncertain. “I just don’t think I’d want to give away a piece of myself. Not again.”

Two beats of silence.

Then Qrow barely had time to catch Tai as he was tossed when Clover all but flung himself at the other man, wrapping him up in a hug so tight, Qrow thought he might have heard his metal parts creak. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – I-I would never-”

“I know you didn’t mean it that way, Clover.” James soothed, returning the embrace.

Qrow just sighed fondly at the both of them.

~

Hours later, Tai called again.

It was well after Clover and James had retired to bed but Qrow was still up, tinkering about in his workshop. Working on the runes embedded in Harbinger, hoping he might make a line just for the forest. Something destructive to infections but would keep the living parts from harm. It was a bit more delicate than anything he’d ever worked with before, but if he could perfect it, things like blight and rusts would be much easier to deal with.

“Hello Tai.” Qrow greeted distractedly, shifting one of his fire runes into an ash one.

“I don’t like Clover.”

That got his attention immediately. Carefully, he pulled his magic from his weapon, letting it go into a resting state.

Then he whirled on Tai with an angry, “Excuse me?”

The dragon didn’t flinch. “Qrow, I read him. There’s something… wrong with him.”

“Of course something’s wrong with him Tai! He doesn’t have a heart!”

“No, not that.” Metal claws tapped insistently as his brother-in-law came closer. “There’s spite growing in his soul.”

That was a joke. It had to be. Clover? Who built eco-friendly bird nests to string along the eves of their shared home and who sang horrible show tunes while he pulled him and James into spontaneous dances?

…But this was also Tai. Who had never once lied to him, not even if it hurt.

Qrow leant back in the chair, arms crossed. “Sure your skills just ain’t on the fritz considering?”

“Sure you aren’t just trying to find a loophole to get an answer you like?” Tai countered, metal-bolted eyes drilling into his skull.

He turned away, running an agitated hand through his hair. Fuck.

“A read still doesn’t mean intent.” He decided on finally. Sure maybe something bad was stirring in Clover’s heart – shit, didn’t they all have that? – but it didn’t necessarily mean it was aimed at Qrow or James.

Maybe… it was at himself? Qrow knew a thing or two about hating yourself.

Gods though, he didn’t want to imagine Clover going through that.

“It doesn’t.” Tai agreed. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep an eye on it.”

Conversation apparently over, the metal dragon started back across the table, leaping back to the floor.

Just before he walked out the door, Tai paused, saying lowly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt Qrow.”

Qrow looked away, unsure what to make of the mess that was already throwing every worst-case scenario through his head. Things that made his heart clench and his eyes burn.

“…Yeah.”

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #james ironwood #luckyironqrowweek2022 #IronCharms #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

[cloudenthusiast2]

I have an idea but it kind of sucks-

Anyways, buying and putting up Halloween decorations with Scaramouche? (or any character you want)

Ignore if you want!

Putting up Haloween decorations with Genshin men

A.n.: Sweet anon, why would I ignore a great idea like this?^^ Since I don't want to celebrate anything linked to death, I always ignore Halloween but man, this was fun to write. Excuse my poor knowledge on spooky season and enjoy! Thanks for the idea again, please write (again) if you have one!

Genre: fluff

Characters: Scaramouche, Childe

Warnings: decided to make it real spooky: I didn't proofread. Hehe

Scaramouche

The only times Scaramouche was actually excited for any celebrations was around Halloween. Of course, the aesthetic and the overall feels of spooky season suited him way more than the any events about peace and love.

It’s not like he did much to prepare for it but at least didn’t complain when you dragged him along to shop.

‘Do we really need all of these lights?’ he asked, leaning on the already full shopping cart as you grabbed another box of decorations off the shelves. ‘It’s just one night after all.’

‘I was thinking of decorating the balcony as well’ you explained. ‘It will look really good from the street.’

‘Whatever’ he mumbled, staring into the distance.

You studied him for a moment with a quiet smile lifting the corners of your mouth. You were debating whether to tell him the real meaning of your last words, but the hesitation didn’t last for too long as you could never resist teasing him a little.

‘Kids usually really like these kinds of funky lights.’

He immediately glanced at you just to be met with your innocent smile.

‘What kids?’ he barked.

‘The ones asking for candy.’

Scaramouche stared at you, silently processing your words.

Halloween usually meant haunted houses, horror movies and free pass at cruel jokes to him. The part including kids was never relevant for him – right until now.

‘I will not let children into my house’ he claimed with a killer gaze.

‘You will. And it’s not just your house.’

‘I paid for it.’

‘Wait, that’s true’ you realized. ‘But I live there too. And I’m buying a lot of candy too, so…’

‘With my money? I think not.’

He reached out to grab the sweets from the cart, but you instantly jumped there and held him back from throwing them away.

‘Wait up! It’s part of the tradition and we have to be welcoming! The neighbors think we’re weirdos anyway…’

‘How many times do I need to tell you not to care about what others think?’ he grunted.

‘But what if I want to have a good relationship with them?’ you pouted. ‘And they’re just kids, they deserve to have a good time.’

‘Declined. Still not a valid reason.’

‘Then’ you sighed and gave in. ‘You can scare them. But only after I gave them candy.’

He glanced at you and you nodded, confirming the words.

Scaramouche silently let go of the candy and slowly pulled his arm back.

‘Jeez, you have a broken humor’ you frowned.

‘You’re one to talk’ he snarled back.

But didn’t even flinch when you put another set of childish lights into the cart.

Childe

Childe was usually into Halloween but this year he couldn’t really be. Since you were a scaredy cat and he was a caring partner, he didn’t plan any haunted houses or other gruesome activities. He just wanted to have a chill day with you at home, maybe watch a movie – but definitely not a horror one.

That’s why he was so shocked when one day before Halloween, he arrived home and your entire house was decorated. Fairy lights hung from the roof, candles sat in the windows and there was even a carved pumpkin in the entrance.

It was definitely a beginner’s work. Its eyes were too far away from each other and the half smiling, half crying mouth was somewhere in the chin. It looked pretty bad… and pretty funny, but Childe was not in the mood to laugh at it.

He ran up to the door and burst into the house.

‘Y/n!’ he shouted.

‘I’m here.’

He turned at your direction and stared at you. You were carving another pumpkin at the kitchen table but it didn’t look much better than the previous one. It was kind of miserable, in fact.

‘Is something wrong?’ you asked.

‘Why is our house decorated? I thought you hated Halloween!’

‘Well, I still don’t like it. But I know you do so I tried to do something for you. I got the decorations from the…’

You couldn’t finish. He was right in front of you in a moment and pulled you into a long, loving embrace. You shut up and hugged him back, a hesitant smile appeared on your face.

‘So you do like it?’ you asked when he finally pulled away.

‘Of course!’ he said enthusiastically, still holding your hand. But then he turned silent and took a quick glance of the table and the thing standing on it. ‘But can I be honest with you about your pumpkin?’

‘It’s horrible, I know’ you laughed in embarrassment. ‘I’ve never made one so far. I shouldn’t even have tried it in the first place.’

‘Don’t worry, I can guide you now. Well… Let’s start another one, shall we?’

#genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x you #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #childe #tartaglia #childe x reader #childe genshin #childe genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin #genshin impact x reader #halloween #cloudenthusiast

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

#First prince #FirstPrince #red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont-diaz #Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor #evie writes #fanfiction

[boxboysandotherwhump]

Dog fight! Dee vs B (part 1)

Oki so me and the wonderful @what-a-whump had our two baby’s B and Dee meet each other at the dog-fights. Thank you so so much for proposing this idea, it was so much fun to write this with you <3

I love our boys together. :3

B and Scott are her baby's and Dee and Sam mine :3

taglist: @ashintheairlikesnow @vickytokio @thefancydoughnut @outofangband

CW: boxboy universe; institutionalized slavery; illegal fighting rings; brief mention of heavy injuries; pet whump

B is dragged up cold metal stairs by multiple handlers. They hold him at a safe distance by catchpoles, thick cords wind around his neck and press into his throat. He bares his teeth at them, bristling with fury as they force him into the kennel blocks

They’d taken his collar and replaced it with a flimsy strip of plastic with a numbered tag attached to it.

“Put it next to the other one.” The order is snapped, a sharp jab of a baton in his spine to keep him moving. He wants his bonded back. He wants Scott. His owner promised he wouldn’t separate them.

Liar, liar, LIAR!

B snarls and lunges at the nearest handler, snapping titanium canines at the air.

“Stupid fucking dog! Get in there!” It takes all of them to shove him into the small kennel run, his feet hitting smooth cold concrete as he stumbles into it. The catch poles are yanked off him. He whirls around to attack and the chain link gate slams in his face.

He roars with frustration, kicking the gate.

“Bring him back!” He growls, pacing back and forth.

Dee pauses mid stretch, watching the newcomer lunge at the gate in a blind fury. That guy will be spent before his fight even begins if he keeps raging like that.

The chain fence’s sharp rattle grates at Dee’s already fraying nerves. Abandoning his warm up, he stands to his full height, all 2 meter 18 of heavy bones and hard muscle.

“First time?” he rumbles, keeping his voice low, almost soft. “Your master will get you after the fight. No need to panic.”

B startles at the voice, jerking his head in its direction. Another guard dog like him. He narrows his eyes, uttering a warning rumble from the back of his throat.

“Who… who are you? I don’t want this… I was being good!”

A wistful sigh escapes Dee’s lips. “It’s not about that here. You fight. You win. Or- “ He pauses, unwilling to think about the consequences of his failure. Of the punishment his bonded would have to endure for his shortcoming. Dee shakes his head, knocking the thought loose. “Just make sure to win. It’s what I’m gonna do.”

B reaches up to push his fingers through the chain link and looks inquiringly at the other guard dog.

“You’ve been here before…” He murmurs. “I… I just want to get my… my bonded back.” He presses his head against the fence. He couldn’t be away from Scott for so long. He needed him close.

“How do I win?”

“Is your bonded gonna watch? Mine is. Master makes him every time. Has him patch me back up, after.” Dee turned to the other man, catching wild frightened eyes with his. “If you're down there, you have to forget that he’s close. Forget all the things you don’t want him to see. Don’t want to be. Just fight. It’s the only thing that counts.”

After a moment's hesitation Dee grabs his shirt hem and pulls it up, revealing a long twisted scar roping up his torso. Countless scars wind their ways through his skin, twisting him into a grotesque caricature of the man he once was. He still feels shy about every single one of them. Even after all this time, they’ve never stopped aching. “Got pushed against a broken fence my first time. Down there is no place for hesitation. Or mercy.”

B blinks, horrified at the sight. He had defended his master, he had been loyal to him and he had protected Scott, just like he wanted. So why had he put him here?

He didn’t want Scott to see him like this.

“I don’t know…” He murmurs, restless panicked energy burning through him. He pushes off the fence and starts to pace up and down again.

“Gotta fight… and win… Then I can see Scott again…” He looks up at the other guard dog.

“You… said you have a bonded too?”

“Yeah.” Dee’s voice grows soft, warmth tinging his vowels and shining from behind his mismatched eyes. A spider spins its delicate web between the fence links and Dee's eyes linger without truly seeing her. Not really. Not when all he can think about is his bonded. His sparkling green eyes, only ever truly tender when looking at him, wild blond locks shining under the warm sun, the dimples appearing on soft round cheeks whenever he smiles. It was Dee’s sole purpose to protect that smile. “His name’s Sam.”

Dee’s eyes flit back to B. “What’s your bonded’s name?”

B watches the faraway look in the other guard dog’s eyes. He could almost smile, knowing that feeling. He thought the world of Scott too.

“He’s… well the master calls him Pet… But… But his name is Scott.” B’s voice lowers to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s his true name, I keep it safe for him.”

Breath halting Dee steps closer to the fence, lifting his hand to touch it but thinking better of it at the last moment, he had seen other guard dogs maim one another before the official fights had even begun. His voice drops into a whisper: “What do you mean? Like, his name from... from before?”

The thought is dizzying and Dee takes another step forward. Drawn in by the irresistible pull of the longing for his own name, his past, his truth. Dee’s whole attention zeroed in on B. “He can remember? How?”

B pauses for a moment, wondering whether he had said too much. He should be more careful… Guard Scott’s name like the treasure it was.

“We… he knows my name too. We remembered our names together during training… We know…” He leans closer to the fence, eying the other one. He had never met another guard dog like him before.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

A gentle smile splits Dee’s lips. He shakes his head. “I won’t. You have my word.”

The smile widens into a conspiratory grin. “Nothing compared to remembering, but my bonded gave me a name. Said I needed a proper one. Other than dog.”

He grimaces as the memories of training flood in. Cold white cells and never ending beatings. Shaking that thought off too, he sticks his hand out in imitation of a greeting while keeping the distance of safety between them. “I’m Dean. Or Dee, for short. And you?”

“Dean.” B repeats, his lips twitching into a smile and warmth rising up through his chest. In the low light of the kennels, he watches Dee extend a hand. He imitates them, holding a hand out too but noting the distance between them.

“I like your name… My owner calls me B… I can’t say my real name or my head will hurt.” He says, wincing at the thought of it. “They found us out during training… tried to make us forget. We only forgot our names, not the other’s.”

Dee winces in sympathy but his eye lights up with pride at B’s praise. Sam had picked a wonderful name, he already knows that but hearing it from somebody else sends a warm flutter through his chest. He wonders if Scott was just as precious to B as Sam was to him.

“Like holding the heart of the other.” Dee murmurs. “Take good care of that.”

The crunch of heavy footsteps over concrete cuts B off just as he opens his mouth to reply. Both guard dogs whirl around, eyes fixed on the handlers entering the kennel room. Dee’s eyes snap to the empty catchpoles in their hands. They didn’t come to bring another guard dog in, but to take one of them away.

“230.” One handler barks. “Time to get you ready. Now let’s do this nice and easy, hands behind your back and head down.”

B immediately falls into a defensive posture, bristling and growling at the sight of those damn catchpoles.

The other handler snorts, drawing their baton to slam against B’s kennel. The guard dog lunges forward, slamming against the gate.

“Hey! No baiting the dogs, Marcus!”

“Whatever.”

Dee moves into position without complaint. It was easier to just obey, get this over with and save his energy for the upcoming fight.

Hinges screeching softly, his kennel opens. The handlers storm in and the catchpole's snare draws tight around his neck a second later.

Glancing down at B, Dee wheezes out: “Good luck.”

B utters a low whine, clutching the chain link and shaking it furiously. But it’s useless, they’ve left him alone.

He resumes his restless pacing, up and down the fence line. 5 tiles up, 5 tiles down. Just as he used to during his training. In the cold white room where all he had was Scott.

Voices travel up from the stairwell and B immediately turns to face them, fists raised and posed with the weight through the balls of his feet.

The handlers size him up.

“Get on your knees, hands behind your back like a good dog.”

B doesn’t move, the sound of his snarls reverberating around the walls. He holds his fists up higher. He’s not going without a fight.

“The hard way, then.”

#whump #pet whump #boxboy whump #box boy whump #forced to fight #whumpees forced to fight #boxboys #box boys #boxboy universe #bbu #wru #guard dog #guard dog boxboy #b the guard dog #guard dog dee #dee #pet whumpee #guard dog fights

[nhinxsworld]

Nhinx's List :)

asks and request open uwu

Kuroo Tetsurou

I have decided to post all my thristy shit about Kuroo

Punishment - nsfw

part 1.1 1.2

Kuroo punishes his dumb baby

Gym hall - nsfw

a look in how they started

Impact Play - nsfw

he is a nerd

Simps

they are disgustingly in love with each other

Shibari - nsfw

JUJUTSU KAISEN

they watch a yt video on it

Domestic

just what i think they do in their free time together

multiple character hc

I realised I'm probably gonna write very small hc about so many characters that I don't want to put it and link it into this list everytime

Pajamas -✨

you get a shirt they get pants

Pet play hc

bark bark woof woof

Gojo Satoru

Tattoos - a bit of angst

in which your kisses leave beautiful flowers on him

Lollipop - just kissing i guess?

Gojo's student teases him

crack headcon - nsfw

size kink bro

Uhmmm - nsfw

teasing Gojo or so

crack hc - nsfw

dirty talk with gojo 💦💦💦

kink hc - nsfw ✨

just short hc about his kinks that come from his profession

ocean eyes - angst

a short look into gojos fuckboy behavior

he knows - angst

Gojo knows what these feelings are

part two - angst - nsfw - ✨

just a continuation of the first part :) this part has very soft smut in it (honestly they can be read on its own, the order if you read part one or part two really doesn't matter, I just wrote them in thus order cause I had a headache writing part one lol)

Masters pretty puppy - nsfw

woof woof gojo makes you wear the puppy ears and a maid outfit <3 straight up smut

Sweet pretty prince - nsfw

you tie up your pretty boy and make him feel like the sweet prince he is

Ask! male reader - nsfw

Gojo is kinda manipulative and mean here

:(

yandere gojo drabble - ✨

yandere gojo

based of the drabble :) Gojo wants you and he gets you! Vow your loyalty to him at the altar!

Piss - nsfw

I swear I'm not into piss

Call me - nsfw

I feel like Gojo uses Skype in 2018

Texting bf!Gojo

part 1

part 2

Toji Fushiguro

petplay hc - nsfw

a short series where I talk about their petplay type

his love language - fluff

my love language series, overall very soft and how I think Toji would be in serious relationship

hc - nsfw ✨

hc based on his 'profession'

xoxosos - angsty

I play around the fact that Toji isn't a loyal man after what happened to his wife and Megumi

Ryoumen Sukuma

Cannbalism - nsfw

I went kind wild ngl uhhhm gore and true form sukuna ? actually smut but it's really fucked up

part 2 - nsfw

I really don't know where these are going

Megumi Fushiguro

Headcon - fluff

just how I think it be to date pretty boy

petplay hc - nsfw

a short series where I talk about their petplay type

drawing - soft - tiny bits of angst

A rather long fic about reader drawing Megumi. It's just me having a little fun writing :)

Naoya Zenin

petplay hc - nsfw

a short series where I talk about their petplay type

ask! what I think of him

as the titles says relationship hc kinda

crack hc - nsfw

playful headcon of how I think he talks in bed it's moslty crack

Predator & Prey - nsfw

You're naoyas little lamp and he is the big bad wolf

Shoko Ieri

Teasing - nsfw

Short headcon where you try to tease Shoko and it doesn't go as you want

Medical play - nsfw ✨

Short headcon about Shoko and her profession

Inumaki Toge

love languages - fluff

my series where I guess what their love languages are :)

Little hc

kiss it better mf!

dates

little date headcons because I love him

Smau

a meance to society

#jjk masterlist #jujustu kaisen

[writer-ish]

in the lambent light

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 2.4K words | rating: T (language)

summary: On the rooftop of the Warehouse, Grace and Mason have an honest conversation about sexuality, small towns, and love (sort of), with the revelry and light of Unit Bravo’s first Wayhaven Pride in the background.

For Week 1, Day 1 of @wayhavensummer: First Pride + #wsfchallenge “belonging”.

*

She finds him on the roof of the warehouse, of course, kicking his feet idly as they dangle over the edge, a thin wisp of smoke coming up steadily from his cigarette.

When he sees her, he puts it out and links his fingers together, eyes following her as she comes to sit beside him.

They're high up – too high; if she looks down she feels a bit dizzy – and he grunts, his eyes narrowing as she dangles her legs, too. She looks at her colourful socks - one purple, one pink - as she tries not to think about how steep the drop would be if she lost her balance or even just shuffled forward a bit.

She wonders if maybe he'll put his hand out to hold her steady, or force her to sit back.

(He does neither.)

"You don't have to do that, you know." She gestures belatedly to the ash of his crumpled cigarette still smoking lightly on the concrete. "I know I gave you a hard time before, but really, I don't want you to stop on account of me."

He shrugs. "It's fine. I don't even know why I still do it when I don’t even really need it anymore. Habit, I guess."

She opens her mouth to insist, say how she doesn't want him, doesn't need him to change for her – but her mouth clicks shut instead. It's easier to let it slide. To not delve too deeply into why he doesn't need it anymore.

They sit in silence for a bit, the evening breeze settling on them.

The sounds of revelry in the town square continue. Grace can hear the celebrations, the music, can feel the general aura of happiness radiating from below.

When she’d left to seek out Mason, Tina had been painting a rainbow on Adam’s sharp cheekbone as he sat very still, giving the situation a gravitas that it perhaps didn’t deserve, but was still heartwarming to see nonetheless.

Eric and Verda had been watching indulgently as their girls got spoiled with treats provided by Nate, who had been doing his very best to succeed at the task of “enjoying his first Pride”.

(When he’d asked if he was “doing it right”, Grace couldn’t help but give him an impromptu hug.

“You’re doing perfectly,” she’d said warmly and he had smiled down at her, eyes sparkling.)

Felix, for his part, had been bouncing around, examining the stalls set up to highlight the queer-owned business in Wayhaven, coming back to hand Nate a new trinket or snack or pin he’d purchased, and then bounding off again, the excitement practically vibrating off of him.

She smiles wistfully at the memory of how the town embraced Unit Bravo as their own, as she regards it all from a distance now, a bloom of warmth in her chest – a collection of the happiness and pride that she feels towards her little town for coming together in this way year after year. To celebrate its people; the people who make Wayhaven what it is.

To celebrate love.

She turns to Mason, spontaneously dropping a hand to his knee. He looks down swiftly and then back up at her, silver-grey eyes meeting her own.

"Was it all too much for you?" She nods in the direction of light, laughter, colour, and music. "Down there?"

He shrugs. "I respect the idea behind the celebration and I'm glad the others are happy and having fun. But yeah. It's not really my thing."

She nods slowly, going quiet again. He idly begins to play with her fingers, splayed out on his thigh. Tracing them with his own, up and down.

"You know it's not—"

"You know that we—"

They both go to speak at the same time, their voices stuttering to a stop as they realize.

"You go," Mason says eventually, the side of his lips quirked up in a small smirk. "You do most of the talking for us anyway."

"Hey!" Grace squeaks out indignantly. "I do not. Most people say I don't talk enough."

Mason snorts. "People who don't know you, maybe."

Her cheeks grow warm with pleasure at the unspoken confirmation. It feels like what he really said was: "People who don't know you the way I do."

And he's right.

"I was just going to say, Wayhaven has been doing this for years now. Decades even. We used to come when I was a kid.” She laughs in reminiscence. “There’s this picture of me – maybe eighteen months old or something – on Rook’s shoulders, watching the parade as my mom smiles up at us both.”

She feels her own smile go soft, like the edges of that faded cherished photograph. She shakes her head to clear the cobwebs of nostalgia before turning to him again. He’s regarding her in a way that can only be construed as fondness and her heart twists, ever so slightly.

“I’m glad you guys got to be here for your first Pride,” she continues, steering the conversation back to the present. To safer territory. “You hear all these things about the intolerance of small towns, and lord knows it’s true in some cases, but I dunno." She shrugs, a small smile gracing her lips once more. "It feels nice to be part of one of the good ones."

He's quiet and she turns to look at him after a moment of prolonged silence. He's still staring at her, this time a more inscrutable expression on his face. She can't tell what's going through his mind, whether it's concern or agreement or even anger. His fingers have stilled overtop hers and his large palm rests on her hand, warm and steady.

It takes another beat before he clears his throat and breaks eye contact, moving his hand off of hers. The cool air rushes to the spot where his hand used to be and she finds herself missing its warmth and comfort.

"It's true," he says finally. "It is one of the good ones." He looks at her carefully. "And you’re right. They aren't all like that."

There’s a wealth of meaning in his simple statement and it’s her turn to stare at him now, processing his words and trying to formulate an appropriate response.

"Have you…" She hesitates, trying to parse her words carefully. "Have you experienced… bad ones?"

He lets out a sigh. The very human sound, probably borne from a habit he could never quite kick, sends a tender pang straight to her heart.

"Listen, sweetheart." He leans back and looks up at the quickly dimming sky, the summer heat dwindling to a more tolerable mildness, the breeze picking up slightly and bringing with it the sweet scent of the magnolias below them. "It's no secret that I am not what people would call…"

He smirks and shoots her a side-long glance, his mischievous look belied by the glint of a single fang. "Discerning."

She stays quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve never seen value in—” He pauses, appearing to search for the right word. “—In curbing my desires to fit into a certain mold. I like what I like, I like who I like, and no real external factors – like gender or appearance or the shape of your tits or your bits – have ever really come into play.” He shrugs and pulls a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, fiddling with it without lighting it. “Some people have a problem with that and some places like to make it known more than others.”

Something about his final sentence causes her pulse to quicken, her thoughts jangling in her head. She tries to gather them up before she speaks.

“Do you think…” She hesitates. “Do you somehow think that I… have a problem with that? That I don’t understand?”

“Do you understand?” He looks straight at her then, his eyes sharp and intense. Not intimidating or cruel, but as though he’s looking for something – perhaps the honest answer to a question he’s not sure he’s even asked properly.

“I mean—” She feels indignant slightly, even though she tries to tamp it down. “If you think I somehow have an opinion on who people love and the circumstances around that, then I feel like maybe you don’t know me that well.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He holds his hands up, unlit cigarette still between two fingers, lip curling slightly. “Who said anything about love? I’m talking about who I decide to fuck.”

That one stings. She purses her lips and looks away, trying not to let him see just how much, inhaling deeply as she tries to get her feelings under control.

“Yes, yes,” she says finally, looking away with a wave of her hand. “Fuck, love, whatever.” She turns to him again, eyes narrowed. “I might not understand in the way that you do, through lived experience, but I care enough to try. And I certainly don’t judge.”

“I never said you judged, Gracie.” His voice is soft and the way he says her nickname – so rare from his lips – makes her breath catch in her throat. He flicks the cigarette between his fingers now, back and forth. “I just want everything to be out there between you and me. So that there’s never any—” He hesitates. “—Surprises.”

“Oh, you mean like finding out you’re a centuries-old vampire?” she quips, raising an eyebrow at him, arms crossed.

He barks out a laugh. “Watch who you’re calling centuries old, sweetheart.”

She chuckles along with him, before getting serious once more.

“The least surprising thing about you, Mason, is the fact that you have no qualms about who you choose to be with. I’ve never met a more accepting and open person.” He looks like he’s about to argue with her, so she holds up a hand to stop him. “And just because we aren’t—exactly the same, in that regard—” She looks down, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “—Doesn’t mean I don’t get it. Or respect it.” She shrugs, laughing self-deprecatingly. “I find it hard to believe you’re interested in my boring ass, to be honest.”

“Your ass is the least boring thing about you, Detective.” For that comment, he’s rewarded with a light whack on the leg. He laughs and wraps his arm around her. “C’mere.”

Putting the cigarette behind his ear, he tugs her closer. He holds her tightly against him, thighs touching and feet brushing against each other.

“I’m going to say something cheesy as fuck and you’re going to listen. And then you’re never going to repeat it again. Got it?”

She nods quickly, eyes widening in anticipation.

“I see people—not for what they look like or any of that shit, but for what’s in here.” He taps gently, right above her left breast. “Yeah, I don’t get mixed up in all that love stuff, and attraction does play a big role in who I seek out and why, but it’s not an attraction to physical things. I just get this—sense of who a person is, I guess. And if I like what I sense, I follow through. If I don’t, I move on.” He gives her a squeeze. “You understand?”

She bites her lip, breath growing shallow as the impact of his words infiltrates her blood stream and causes her heart to flutter painfully.

He smiles slowly, a cheshire grin, and she curses his ability to hear the increase in her pulse.

“And guess what, sweetheart?” His voice has dropped an octave now, mouth close to her ear.

“What?” It comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“I like what you’ve got in here.” Another tap, same spot. “And I’m not ready to move on.”

As far as grand romantic statements go, Grace knows this one won’t make anyone’s top ten list. But for Mason, it’s a lot. And for her, for right now—it’s everything.

She leans forward and kisses him softly, sweetly, on the lips. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, but neither makes a move to deepen the kiss in any way, keeping it gentle and close-mouthed; an affirmation rather than the initiation of anything more. Pulling away, she looks at him, feeling the softness she sees in his face reflected in her own.

Giving him one more brief kiss, she scooches back and stands up carefully, dusting off the bottom of her blue shorts.

She catches him watching the action intently and he catches her catching him. They share a smirk that turns into a laugh and it feels comfortable and fun. It feels like an inside joke.

Like belonging.

“Let’s go, hot shot.” She holds out her hand to him and he takes it, swinging his legs around and standing up, his full height enough that she needs to tilt her head to look up at him.

“Think you can manage to rejoin the party?” she asks, her hand still in his as she tugs him to the door that will lead them back through the warehouse. “We’ll stick to the quieter corners. I’ll hold your hand the whole time,” she adds, smiling up at him, her tone cajoling, teasing.

There’s something about summer in Wayhaven, something about Pride in Wayhaven – the air feels lighter, sweeter. Grace feels lighter. Bolstered by love and friendship, warmth and comfort. All the good things about her little town seem to be highlighted during this time.

All the good things about her little life, she thinks, glancing at their joined hands.

Mason snorts and looks down at her, amused, before giving her hand a squeeze.

She squeezes back, feeling happier than she can remember ever feeling before.

“I’ll even buy you a snow cone without the syrup,” she offers as they leave, bumping his shoulder with hers.

He grunts and then stops short. “Isn’t that just ice?”

She bites back a smile, feeling laughter in her throat, and nods.

There’s a pause. He blinks once. Twice. Then—he bursts into loud laughter. The sound is so free, so surprising yet pleasant, that she can’t help the grin that spreads across her face. And when he pulls her even closer and presses a kiss to the top of her head—well. She’s not sure that smile will ever go away now.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” he murmurs, keeping her close to him.

And she does.

#wayhaven summer #day one: first pride #week one #wsf challenge #belonging #grace’s sexuality isn’t really addressed but you might pick up what I’m trying (fumbling) to put down #it’s not the focus because this is really about mason #and his no apologies take on sexuality #or his past #while still being a lil soft for his detective #tw subtle mention of homophobia #/ intolerance

[alirhi]

This is oddly fun lol

Let's see how many of these I can churn out before I get distracted or need a break! (pff. like I need an excuse to watch the show again. Despite its flaws, I really, really love TFATWS, guys)

Without further ado, let's get down to it!

Episode 2: The Star-Spangled Man

I'm pretty sure I'm on record when it comes to my undying hate for John Walker, yes? So obviously, Bucky's grumpiness 100% stays 😂

I'm not really a fan of how much emphasis they put on the shield. I can see it as a catalyst for Bucky to go confront Sam, yes, but he wouldn't keep going "shield shield shield" like a broken record. Bucky has consistently been shown to be an empathetic man. I can't believe for a second that he'd be barking at Sam about having no right to give up the shield; he'd ask why. Sam's got shit to do, so he'd get impatient and not answer.

"Why'd you give up so easily? If you were overwhelmed, I could've helped you-" "You've been ignoring me. Like now, how you're ignoring me walking away from you." "Well, you weren't texting me about this." "You think I needed your permission?!" "No, but I was right there with Steve while he was learning what it meant to be Cap. I wouldn't mind helping you get used to-" "Then go teach him." A vague gesture toward the "Cap is back" posters. Bucky makes a face. "Steve passed the mantle to you. You fought with him. You earned it. That little shit didn't." "What do you want me to do about it?" "Just tell me why, Sam. I mean it. I just wanna understand." "Not now, Buck. I've got shit to do. You see me heading for a plane right now, right?" "This is important!" "So is this." Sam tells him about the Flag Smashers, we get our silly Big Three/Gandalf conversation.

I'm sorry, but that whole jumping from the plane scene is funny as hell, and I love all the nods they added in to jokes from the press tours that brought us this show in the first place (like ripping the sleeve off his jacket lol). I don't think I'd change a single thing from the Big Three convo to Bucky joining Sam in the warehouse.

"You're doing the staring thing again." "You're staring at your watch," Bucky points out. He knows it's linked to Redwing, he's just pointing out how dumb that line is in that situation. They're there for recon lol. They're meant to be looking around.

I don't...particularly care about the other common gripe here? Meaning, "Bucky's a civilian, so why is he allowed to randomly jump in on a military mission?" Bucky's also known in this universe as an Avenger, just like Sam, so I don't think anyone would really bat an eye at him joining. Also, I have my own agenda related to Bucky's apparent freedom to walk in and out of military/government things.

What does bug me (as funny as it is) is Bucky's animosity toward Redwing. Again... Bucky is a certified nerd. Always has been. If anything, he'd be fascinated by Redwing and Sam would constantly have to slap him away because he's leaning in too close trying to see the tiny watch monitor. "I don't trust Redwing" is just old man griping "I don't trust your newfangled technology" and that... that's not Bucky.

And that "we're not assassins" dig, and then laughing when Bucky gets upset? That's not Sam. Both of these men have shown a remarkable amount of empathy, and Sam has a background in helping traumatized vets. If he cared enough about Bucky to be texting him after Steve left, he'd care enough not to make callous jokes about his time as The Winter Soldier, whether he knows the full story or not.

The fight on top of moving trucks looks cool, but makes no logical sense. I keep trying to think of a way to explain this from a story perspective, rather than a lazy "it looks cool!" filmmaking one, and I'm coming up blank. Anyone with half a brain would have pulled over, had the fight, and then taken off. It was a fun sequence, though... Eh. I'll leave it.

When Karli breaks Redwing, Bucky doesn't say "I always wanted to do that." Again, it's funny - I love the jabs about that stupid robo bird XD - but not Bucky. In my version, he smirks and says "You're so gonna regret that."

"You were kinda getting your asses kicked before we got there." Is immediately followed by Bucky staring him down and asking, "And... how did that fight end for you?" Sam adds, "I don't see them in custody. Are-are they following in a van?" He looks around, sarcastically searching for another vehicle. Walker and Hoskins grimace at each other, grudgingly conceding that point.

credit to @dailycelebs

Seeing Walker, and having to listen to his stupid pro-government rhetoric, makes Bucky think about Steve. When we cut from the Flag Smashers back to Bucky and Sam and the closeup of Bucky's pensive face, we hear 1940s Steve angrily telling 1940s Bucky about how the higher ups in the army had already written off the POWs and were going to leave them to die. "I love our country, Buck," he laments, "but what do I do when I'm not too sure anymore about the people who run it?"

"What you always do," is young Bucky's answer, "stand for what's right, not who's in power."

Perfect lead-in to the conversation about handling things themselves.

When Sam meets Isaiah, and hears his story, not only is he horrified and heartsick for him, but he also begins to see Bucky in a new light. He's seeing Bucky's face, the way he tries to hide his emotions and not make this conversation about him, and he's putting things together. He's still upset at being out of the loop, but he's seeing more of the situation than just "omg black super soldier". When Bucky says "he'd already been through enough," Sam asks quietly, "like you?"

The racist cop comes back before Bucky can answer, to arrest him for missing his appointment with Raynor.

ngl guys, I was so moved by the difference in how that cop treated Sam (before knowing he's Important) vs how he treated Bucky (knowing that the government views him as a violent, if pardoned, criminal). He approaches Sam with his hand on his gun, eager to defend Bucky; "is this guy bothering you?" Just because they're having a heated conversation. Then, when he sees that there's a warrant for Bucky, he approaches timidly, apologizes, treats him gently and politely. By "moved," btw, I don't mean "it was so sweet." I mean "this is fucking sick, and very, very realistic." White cops see a white guy and treat him with respect regardless of his actual criminal record, while being openly hostile towards an innocent black man without even knowing who he is, just because he's black. Moments like this made me applaud Spellman.

"You, too, Sam - That wasn't a request" is Sam's first sign that there's something off about Raynor.

Look, again... The couples therapy banter is funny because Sebastian and Anthony are funny, but that scene, from a storytelling and a mental health standpoint, is atrocious. Without some underlying reason behind her actions, Raynor is just a pointlessly terrible therapist.

Rather than insulting Bucky from the outset, Sam is angry with Raynor for violating Bucky's privacy by not only introducing herself as his therapist, but forcing a "couples" session without her patient's consent. With his background pre-Avenging, he knows this shit shouldn't fly. He immediately points out how unprofessional she's being.

Raynor doesn't bother listening - the fuck does she care, really? She shrugs and casually admits it's "slightly unprofessional" but proceeds anyway.

"Whatever's eating at him?" Sam scoffs. "Did you really just say that to a WWII veteran and the world's longest-serving POW with complex PTSD? Did I hear that right? I've had, maybe, like five conversations with this man since we met, and even I know he's been through some shit and-" "Sam," Bucky tries to interrupt, looking uncomfortable. With his crushing guilt, he has an easier time dealing with insults than someone coming to his defense. "No," Sam snaps. "If the HIPAA Slayer over here wants to drag me into this, she's damn well gonna hear what I have to say!" He turns back to Raynor and demands, "Is this how you've been treating him this whole time? Downplaying what he's been through and making a grown-ass man sound like a sulking teenager?" Raynor keeps her cool, but barely. Visibly frustrated and annoyed, she ignores Sam's tirade and tries to force the conversation back onto the track she wants it on. Bucky's embarrassed and doesn't know how to react to any of this, so he still makes that little "he would talk less" jab. Sam, seeing that he's not going to get anywhere with him until they're away from this bitch, glowers and plays along. We get our silly/angry banter.

After their argument with Walker, Sam finally confronts Bucky about what really happened to him.

"He meant HYDRA; HYDRA used to be my people." "Were they?" Sam asks, stopping him and looking him in the eye, not letting him look away or deflect. "Steve was under the impression that they were your captors. I was under the impression that the Wakandans spent two years deprogramming you so no one could use you the way HYDRA did ever again." "I-" Startled, not expecting that, Bucky stutters a little and admits, "Yeah, I... That's true, I guess." "You guess?" "Does it matter? Sam rolls his eyes. "I dunno, does it matter that you were a slave for most of the 20th century?" "I doubt it matters much to my victims." "HYDRA's victims," Sam corrects firmly. "Just like you." Bucky fidgets; he doesn't know what to do or say. No one since Steve has even so much as insinuated that Bucky wasn't 100% culpable for what he did while under HYDRA control. "Look," Sam sighs, "I don't particularly like you. I don't hate you, but I'm not your biggest fan." "...Thanks?" "I just need you to know where I stand-" "Yeah, got it-" "-So you know I'm not biased like Steve when I say you had no choice. I don't know your story, but I know no one flips on a dime from docile and plagued with guilt to an unstoppable killing machine and back without some serious psychological damage behind that. I'm not saying you're an innocent little bunny, but I don't think you're a monster." "Thanks," Bucky croaks, more sincerely this time, and a bit choked up. He clears his throat and looks distinctly uncomfortable as he grumbles, "but to catch these guys, we may need to talk to a monster." Sam cringes. "I was afraid you'd say that."

#sebastian stan #anthony mackie #tfatws #tfatws critical #fan ramblings #show rewrite #if i'd written it #episode 2

[apinklion01]

Trailing Along the Dark

Day Nine: Cape

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34214308/chapters/85729249

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No warnings this chapter! Occurs a few years after the events in Glitter.

Hide and seek is a game that’s more fun yet challenging when you toss in a ghost dog and your half ghost friend into a giant home.

Sam’s parents were out again for the weekend, and while the trio did mean to study for a test, Cujo made it apparent that he wanted to play. It’s hard for any of them to deny the puppy especially when he begged.

They already played one round. Tucker found Danny pretty easily as he accidentally sniffed a container that held the pepper. Cujo was found afterwards in a small pile of stuffed animals that Sam put up in her basement that she didn’t want but kept around anyways. Sam was found hiding in a closet, as both boys thought she would’ve hid in the greenhouse.

Now it was her turn. Danny was following behind her, choosing to sit out of the game until he got the scent of pepper out of his nose.

Sam wandered into her game room, which was suspiciously left open even though it was closed before the trio came into the house. ‘Oh he’s definitely hiding in here,’ she thought to herself as she looked at a few misplaced chairs and a beanbag chair that was close to the back of a couch.

“Gotcha!” She yelled as she peeked over the side of the couch. Tucker gave a scream, almost dropping his phone which appeared to have the game Genshin Impact.

“You didn’t have to do that,” He said, while he quickly checked to see if the screen protector had broken before slipping the device into his pocket.

“Well then maybe try finding a better way to hide,” Sam replied with a slight smirk on her face. Danny gave a chuckle as Tucker came up from his hiding spot and pushed the bean bag back to its original location.

“So I’m guessing you two didn’t found Cujo yet?” Tucker asked.

“Nope,” Both answered as they began walking out of the room.

“And before you ask, apparently pepper affects my ghost sense too,” Danny added before blowing into another tissue.

“Well we’ve checked all of the other rooms on the first two floors before coming here, so Cujo’s bound to be somewhere on the third floor or in the attic,” Sam said optimistically.

Sam paused near a closet that was a few feet away from her room. It was definitely colder than the other rooms, so perhaps a peek in here wouldn’t hurt.

“Cujo, are you here?” Sam asked as she opened the doors. There was a muffled sound coming from the back.

“Come on boy, we think you’re in here,” Danny added as he and Tucker watched from behind.

Sam felt some fur and a small surprised grunt confirmed her hunch.

“Found you!” She proclaimed, holding up Cujo who barked in response. He appeared to have something stuck on his head.

‘Hold up, is that…’

She took off the small black piece of clothing, which revealed to have a dark glittery purple inside. “No way, I thought my mom got rid of it!” She said in disbelief, holding it up so the guys could see it.

“Oh my gosh, it’s the cape!” Danny exclaimed.

“Shit you’re right!” Tucker agreed. “Man, I remember that night we first met up. You sure you weren’t psychic when you said we’d see Sam again?”

“I wish, otherwise I’d ace more of Mr. Falluca’s tests, or figure out my gender stuff. I’m still a bit confused about it.”

“Least you’re getting there,” Sam added. “Plus your parents immediately jumped in to support you!”

“Yeah that’s true,” Danny nodded. “Now if I ever got through to them about Phantom not being a threat, then that would be a miracle.”

“Don’t you mean Invisobill?” Tucker jokes.

“Oh my gosh again?!”

Both Sam and Tucker laughed. Cujo slipped out of her hands and floated up to lick Danny’s face.

“Well at least I know you wouldn’t ever call me Invisobill, right?”

Cujo barked happily in reply.

“Phew, that’s a good boy.”

#danny phantom #ectober 2021 #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #cujo

[nicknellie]

@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

*

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

*

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

*

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

#jatp #willex #julie and the phantoms #willie jatp #alex mercer #alex x willie #jatp fic #willex fic #writing #angst with a happy ending #high school au #alive au #julie and the himbos #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #first i love you #kissing #hugging #cuddling

[corpsentry]

ao3 mirror

fandom: age of calamity, botw rating: g starring: prince sidon and mipha note: spoilers for both games

"You know, Daruk’s my idol,” Yunobo says. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” Sidon says. He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands for long enough to look up blankly at him. "Mipha was my sister."

the age of calamity, side b.

The thing about time travel is, even if someone stands in front of you and tells you point-blank that there’s a way to bring your dead sister back to life, you’re probably not going to believe them.

“I don’t believe you,” says Sidon.

“Okay,” Teba says patiently, fluffing his feathers with an absent glide of his wing. “Try harder.”

Sidon stares at him. He tries harder, though he’s not sure what that entails and so doesn’t end up really doing anything. “I don’t get you.”

“Which part don’t you get?”

“I get to see Mipha again?”

Teba’s eyebrow twitches. “Let me put this as simply as I can, Prince,” he says, a little too loudly. The soldier stationed at the bottom of the staircase turns to look at them. “We’re going to go back to the point a hundred years ago at which the four champions were killed in their divine beasts. We’re going to save them. We’re going to make sure they defeat Ganon before he can send Hyrule into ruin. And then we’re going to leave.”

By now, they’ve caught everyone’s attention. It’s been a long time since a hundred years ago, but here in Zora’s Domain it still feels like the events of last Tuesday, to be recounted over salt tea and fish skewers, to be mourned over an empty coffin. Everyone’s staring at the big white bird with the angry eyebrows, a little curious, a little apprehensive. For what he’s worth, Teba is indifferent. This much will not faze him.

Sidon twiddles his thumbs behind his back, where Teba cannot see them and the guards at the bottom of the staircase can point and laugh all they want. To be honest, he heard nothing. His heart stopped when he heard ‘killed in their divine beasts’, at which point a watery monster punched its way into his skull and crushed his brain. The monster is nothing concrete, nothing crystal-clear, just what little Link has told him, bits and pieces of a history he was prevented from taking part in. It’s been several months since the kid dragged his beaten-up body halfway across Hyrule and kicked Ganon’s ass, though they’re still feeling the after-effects of that particular calamity today. Mipha’s statue still looms over their heads, a reminder of what it means to die alone and far away from home.

“So,” Sidon starts, hearing his voice echoing in his ears like metal slicing through air. “What you’re saying is, I get to see Mipha again.”

Teba looks like he wants to grab one of the guards’ spears and stab Sidon in the face, but for what he’s worth, he reigns it in. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He grins. “I’m in.”

::

He tried to fight a lynel when he was fifteen. The domain had been overrun with monsters who had arrived for the pre-party to Ganon’s return, including an outstanding number of wizzrobes, several moblins, and a tall, intimidating figure which spat electricity from its pink-tongued mouth and whose name he couldn’t recall. While his father, the king, and his sister, the princess, breezed through the area like a lightning strike, reclaiming keeps and stabbing moblins with silver teeth so their generals could forge a path ahead, Sidon reveled in the wonder of being left unsupervised at four a.m. in the morning. And then heard the familiar, haunting roar of a lynel. And then decided to go and say hi.

It was a mistake, of course. The lynel was so tall he couldn’t make out the gear on its back. Its face was all squished up, like a birthday cake that had been stepped on, and its horns were too big for its thick, blocky nose. This was funny for all of five seconds. Then the lynel extracted a bow from that unknowable space behind it and aimed the sharp end of an arrow at his face, and it became a problem.

“H-h-h-hi,” said Sidon, holding up his Kid Spear, which was strictly for Kid Use Only, and had the offensive capabilities of a stick.

“RHOOARHGHHGHH,” said the lynel.

He jabbed the Kid Spear at the lynel’s leg. The lynel spat at him, though probably unintentionally, as it seemed preoccupied with the arrow it was trying to send into his face. It was stuck. The big scary lynel’s bow was stuck.

Emboldened by the stupid scary lynel’s broken bow, Sidon decided to try again. “Please go away, Mr. Lynel,” he said in his best and most charming Kid Prince voice, twirling his Kid Spear like a sweet jellyfish skewer.

“RHOAHOARHAGHOGHHHH,” said the lynel, who sounded significantly angrier than before.

“I understand,” Sidon said politely, and then closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way he had been taught to since he was old enough to speak, the way every child in Hyrule knew that there was a place for them to go to after they left this world behind). He braced for impact, which he hoped would be of the violent sort, earth-shattering and brisk enough to break his bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. He was fifteen, not five. This was Ganon’s era. Every living creature in Hyrule knew this, the way their ancestors woke up and knew which direction the sun would rise from. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When your people die. When the knight emerges from the woods with the sacred sword in his hand, and saves you all.

But none came. When he opened his eyes, and he did so reluctantly, adrenalin coursing through his veins like thunder, the world was pitch black. In place of the cool blue moon was his sister, her ceremonial gear glittering darkly, the Lightscale Trident glowing like a star in her right hand.

“Holy shit,” whispered Sidon the kid. Mipha stabbed the lynel in the face.

She hugged him when it was all over and they had put the moblins and the wizzrobes and the electric moblin (so that’s what it was! Terrifying) back to sleep. Their father was upset, but he was frequently upset at Sidon and so it didn’t bother him as much as it could have. Sidon was not Mipha. It was all right if he got things wrong, as long as his sister never did. Coincidentally, the Hylian princess had been in the area at the time of the attack, accompanied by a knight with blue eyes and a Sheikah warrior who looked like she would throw a knife at a fish for sport. It was a good thing Mipha had been at home, and not visiting one of the other tribes or hunting for crabs near Lurelin. It was a good thing she had intervened when she had, lest the pre-party become the real thing.

“Thank you,” said the Hylian princess, trying her best to smooth her brow and failing. She looked anxious, though she had only come to pass on her father’s word, though the word that she had brought was victory.

Mipha smiled at her with a face full of sun. “It is my pleasure.”

::

He wishes the egg could talk. If the egg could talk then Teba would have less reason to talk, and if Teba talked less then Sidon would have less of a raging headache, which which would make him less of an asshole, which would make their discussions go much more smoothly than the janky, sputtering mess they’ve been all week.

“As I was saying,” says Teba, continuing whatever train of thought he picked up on their way up to Goron City and then dumped unceremoniously by the side of the road. As he does this, Death Mountain spits a chunk of lava out of its steaming gaping top, which lands a few inches shy of his breastplate. He hops backwards without missing a beat and begins fanning himself with one wing.

Riju stops fiddling with the diamond circlet in her hands for long enough to give him a look of inquiry. “As you were saying?”

“I can’t wait to see Daruk.” Yunobo scratches his arm. It makes a sound like two large boulders grinding together. Riju drops the circlet.

“You’re only going to see him for a short while,” Teba comments over the sound of the egg blowing its top at Riju and Sidon plugging his ears with his fingers. “No point getting all worked up about it.”

“You’re just as worked up yourself,” Riju counters. Patricia barks. Teba flinches.

This is true. There are two things Teba won’t shut up about. In ascending order of importance, they are 1) when they should depart for the alternate timeline in which they will prevent their respective ancestors from getting their spirits trapped in giant mechanical monsters for a hundred years, and 2) how incredible Revali is. Because Revali was the most powerful Rito warrior that ever walked the land (or flew over it, or blasted bomb arrows at it, whatever). Revali singlehandedly invented an entire style of aerial combat which involves launching yourself into the air with an updraft that defies the laws of the universe and then setting your surroundings on fire. Revali killed god.

Teba looks like he wants to go back to his wife and kid in Rito village. Good for him. Not all of them have bodies to put in coffins. “I just want to meet him once,” he says quietly.

Yunobo laughs, and it sounds like two extra large boulders grinding together. “Me too, brother.” He picks up the diamond circlet from the floor and puts it on his head like some kind of weird hat. “I’m going to tell Daruk how great he is. And then I’m going to go home.”

::

One time when they were much, much younger, before he woke up one morning and Mipha was three times his height, one of the guards brought back some durians. The durians were misshapen and spiky and smelled intimidating, though Sidon wouldn’t go as far as to say that the smell was unpleasant. The guard had obtained them from a merchant in the Faron region. He hadn’t meant to purchase them, but they were the last of her stock and she said she could only head home once she had sold everything. He empathized her.

At first they tried to open the durians with their hands, but this only produced several pricked fingers and left ominous and eerily substantial bloodstains everywhere, so someone brought out a spear, almost drove it through the table, and someone else brought out a carving knife. Halfway through the spectacle of watching one of the guards, who was thirty-seven and enjoyed collecting glowing stones as a hobby, attempt to de-spike an entire durian, the crowd parted abrutpyl.

“What are you all doing?” Mipha put her hand absently on Sidon’s head. He had been watching the ongoing debacle out of some kind of morbid curiosity, standing on tip-toes so he could peek over the top of the table, though now he had apparently been relegated to armrest.

“Trying to open this durian, your highness.”

Mipha laughed. His sister’s laugh was a delicate, heartrending affair, like trying to pull weeds from the bottom of a lake without breaking them at the stem. The weather at home was always more or less divine, but whenever Mipha laughed, Sidon swore it blasted a hole right through the clouds. If there were no clouds, then the hole appeared in the fabric of the sky instead. Mipha, at her brightest, was a walking catastrophe of sun.

Still chuckling a little, like she’d been made privy to a secret that none of them knew about, Mipha stepped up to the cutting board. “You have to do it like this,” she said cheerfully, digging her fingers into a seam in the durian’s shell like she’d been dealing with danger all her life.

Cue gasping. Cue the horrors of childbirth.

The durian was sweet. It was also a little goopy, but Sidon was no stranger to things which stuck to your fingers and refused to let go (he was one of those objects when it came to his sister, who he could rarely be found more than an arm’s length away from on any given day), so he felt for the little spiky fruit, and decided that he would make an effort to bring some back home when he went traveling himself in the future. While he examined the inside of the durian’s shell, which had been hollowed of fruit and had the texture of rough sandpaper, the guards crowded around Mipha and demanded that she share her secret to not getting stabbed to death by the fierce and terrifying durian. But either she didn’t know how to explain it to them, or they weren’t very good at listening, because she remained the only one capable of cracking open a durian with her bare hands for many, many years, up until she died while fighting a watery manifestation of Ganon inside the divine beast she had been told by the king of Hyrule to pilot to victory’s end. Then it was someone else’s turn to take over.

::

Painkillers for fish are a tricky affair. To begin with, charmingly little research has been conducted into the biology of the fish-person because the Zoras simply aren’t interested in how their bodies work, and while others have offered to do so in their place, among them several enthusiastic Sheikah researchers and one Hylian with a thing for huge glowing orbs, his people have never cared enough to give their consent. It’s a unique kind of apathy, one which stems from a place of privilege, or denial. They are, as a general statement of fact, very good at both.

“This will help.” Yunobo hands him a rock roast. Where did Yunobo get a rock roast from? Sidon frowns. They’re in the middle of the desert.

“Thanks,” Sidon says. Smiles. Kind of, like, holds the roast up to his mouth and gives it a sniff. It doesn’t smell half as good as durian. He puts it down.

It takes him several days to make sense of the convoluted sequence of events that Teba presented to him that day on the front door of the world he had rebuilt from scratch, surrounded by mystique and glamor and promising, in a breath of cold air, to bring his dead sister back to life. This makes it sound like he’s finished making sense of it all and will thus never be confused ever again, but if he’s to be entirely honest, he still doesn’t get it. He wants to. He’s scared to. He won’t look Teba in the eye.

“We should get going soon, don’t you think?” says Riju, who is twelve and somehow more put-together than all four of them combined. She pulls another book from the shelf and leaves it on the pile on the desk.

Yunobo shrugs loudly. “Doesn’t make a difference when we leave, does it? We could leave for Hyrule in twenty years, and we’d still end up at the same place.”

“But I want to save them,” Riju says earnestly. The pile behind her has been growing all afternoon, and will soon overtake her in height if she is not stopped. Mission preparation looks like archaeological excavation when you’re traveling backwards in time, and not forwards to some yet unknown destination. Ancient Sheikah records. Research journals. The writings of people who were obsessed with the events of a hundred years ago despite having no personal investment to speak of, and whose words carry with them a hint of reverence, even as they choreograph the funeral song of the old king. This is all that’s left of those ruins, aside from Link, who they’ve all quietly decided to keep uninformed of the current proceedings. Hyrule itself has been kept in the dark. No need for them to know about the maybes and the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. No need for more people to go crazy.

Sidon shuts the book in his hands with a thud. “But why?”

Riju’s eyes go wide. Drama queen. “Why what?”

Sidon opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. There’s a heat rash on the back of his neck which he can’t quite reach on his own. The elders had warned him about the desert, but the charm he received from Link has proven to be effective in all areas except for maintaining good skincare. He blinks dumbly at Riju, who has begun to flicker like the glassy surface of a pond. His eyes hurt.

“I mean, why do you.” His eyes hurt. His throat hurts. There’s something large and horrible stuck in his chest, and he can’t get it out. “Why do you want to save them?” There’s a durian in his rib cage. It must have lodged itself there when Teba glared at him like he was an idiot as he came face to face with the cruel reality of the universe, and it dawned on him like a dead body falling out of the sky that he would get to see Mipha one last time, and then he would have to come back. To a Hyrule without her. To the stupid stuck-up world that had to try again and again and again, coughing up blood and dragging itself through the dirt on bruised knees, before it could defeat the monster. “It’s not like they’ll come back to life,” he says, each word a silver knife in his mouth. “They’ll stay dead here. They’re already dead.”

Silence.

Riju has let everything go, including the diamond circlet, the topaz earrings, and three volumes sheathed in gold. Yunobo’s mouth is open so wide, you could stick your head inside and take a look around if you leaned in close enough. For the first time since he met him, Teba is at a loss for words. His chest rises and falls erratically, his hand on the bookshelf quivering, his eyebrows doing a little dance on his forehead. He’s sweating. Of course he is. They’re in the desert.

Riju, Hylia bless her soul, is the first to speak.

“It’s the spirit of things,” she says softly. She looks sadder than any twelve-year-old should ever have to look. But then and again, Sidon was barely old enough to hold a spear with both hands when his sister died and everything went to shit. Then and again, everything goes away eventually.

Sidon stares at her helplessly for a moment, gulping the humid air of the library like a fish out of water, then gives up and walks out of the room. He spends the rest of the afternoon blowing bubbles in the pool beside Kara Kara Bazaar while the other three continue their work, and then buys a durian from one of the vendors and hacks it open with his spear. You can’t crack open a durian with your bare hands, unless you’re Mipha, in which case you can do anything. It’s a good thing, then, that she’s gone.

::

When they were children and they got into trouble, his father would always scold Mipha far more harshly than Sidon. Mipha was the older sibling, after all. She should know better. This dynamic remained firmly established between them even as Mipha grew into her role as princess, future ruler, and eventually, champion. Of course, the reprimandings grew less stern, but Sidon had a penchant for winding up in places he wasn’t supposed to be in and Mipha had a penchant for being with him whenever this happened. He secretly resolved to pay her back when he got older and was finally able to stand up to his father, and therefore explain that most of the things they got into trouble for were his idea. He would be the one to weep at his father’s feet while his sister looked on with a horrified expression, and in that moment she would understand how much he loved her.

Then she died. You can’t tell the story of Mipha without this part. Mipha was a humble, kind girl, and then she died. Mipha could crack open a durian with her bare hands, and then she died. Mipha was the pride of their people, and then she died, and she died, and she died.

You can’t change the past with the wave of a hand. You’re not a bird. You’re not a fortune-teller. You’re a fish-person with an empty coffin for a sister, and in a few weeks’ time, you’re going to save her specter.

::

“...What if I brought her back with me?”

“Huh?”

“Hahajustkidding. No way I’d do that. Not a chance.”

“Um. Do you need painkillers?”

“Thanks, but they don’t work on me. I’m over a hundred years old, you see. Us Zoras, we’re different.”

::

The day before departure. They’re back at Zora’s domain. It’s raining. Teba is running through a checklist of items to bring with them which is so long, he has to hold it above his head to prevent it from touching the floor. Riju is feeding Patricia mandarin peels.

“You know, Sidon.”

Sidon looks up from his mandarin. “Mm?”

Yunobo grins at him. “Daruk’s my idol,” he says proudly. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” says Sidon, as enthusiastically as he can, because he genuinely wants to be happy for Yunobo who is finally going to meet his idol and has clearly dreamed about this moment for some time. He wants to be happy for all of them. He fucking wants to. This is a rescue mission, not the imprisonment Princess Zelda walked into in Hyrule castle, not the hundred-year nap Link took on the Great Plateau. This is a happy ending, even if it’s not theirs.

Daruk the idol. Urbosa the warrior. Revali the bird. Sidon pictures them in his head, the way Link described them to him once, his voice carrying across the water like beams of light.

“Mipha was—”

He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands, his nails still embedded in the soft skin of it, the white-tinged flesh peeking out like a wound. Outside, the rain keeps falling. A river of tears from the sky.

Yunobo tilts his head to the side. “Mipha was?”

Mipha was the pride of their people. Mipha was the first person he wanted to live forever. Mipha was the only one he knew who could crack open a durian with her bare hands, like she was peeling open the heart of a monster, only to reveal that it had been something soft and scared all along. Mipha was a flesh-and-blood person. Mipha was the light of their world. Mipha is an empty coffin with a name inscribed on the lid, a house with the lights off, a memory drenched in ocean.

Yunobo prods his shoulder, though he barely feels a thing. “Mipha was?” he repeats kindly, herding him along to the end of the line, to the boat at the edge of the water.

Sidon puts the mandarin away. He stares long and hard at Yunobo, and hopes that his eyes will convey the wound his body no longer knows how to carry.

“Mipha was my sister.”

::

Let’s say you’ve been entrusted with the future of your kingdom. There’s a bad guy coming, and everyone’s scared to death, so you learn how to pilot this big robotic elephant which shoots turrets of water like a machine gun, and you get really good at it, and when the bad guy arrives on your new friend’s birthday suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You’re trapped inside the giant elephant. You’re bleeding out all over the floor. Your chest hurts like something awful, and your vision is beginning to blur. Sensing your despair, the monster closes in on you, wielding that big blue trident like fury. It holds the sky up over your head, and as it does so you close your eyes. You send a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way you have been taught to since you were old enough to hold your little brother in your arms, the way every child in Hyrule knows that there is a place for them to go to after they leave this world behind). You brace for impact, which you hope will be the gentle sort, a slap to the wrist that’s conclusive enough to break your bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. You’re twenty, not five. This is the end of all things as you know it. Every living creature in Hyrule knows this, the way their ancestors woke up one day and knew that this world would come to ruin. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When everyone you’ve ever loved dies. When you walk into the mouth of the elephant, and the elephant changes its mind, and decides to keep you in its belly forever.

None arrives. You open your eyes slowly, hesitantly, fear a living memory in your bones, but you are not faced with the stinging end of a trident. In its place is a boy almost three times your height, his eyes glittering darkly, the spear in his right hand shining like a star.

He is not your brother. But, Hylia bless you all, he is.

So what can you say, when the evil has been defeated and you are standing on the balcony of the castle, smiling up at him through tears while this big overgrown baby stares at you like you’re the answer to the universe, except:

We’ll definitely meet again, won’t we?

He flinches, but you don’t ask, and he doesn’t say why. He pulls you into an earth-shattering, bone-crushing hug. It’s a beautiful day to be alive, the sun shining like sin, Hyrule’s beaten but stubbornly breathing carcass laughing up at you from the fields below. He takes your hands in his. He’s shivering. He’s shaking from head to toe.

Of course, he says in the kindest, saddest voice you’ve ever heard, though he has only come to pass on someone else’s words, though the word he has brought is salvation. From now on, I’ll always be by your side.

: : : : :

You smile at him with a face full of stars.

#hwaoc #hyrule warriors age of calamity #age of calamity #aoc #botw #breath of the wild #zelda #the legend of zelda #prince sidon #mipha #sidon #how the fuck else do i tag these #tloz #my stuff #my writing #aoc spoilers #age of calamity spoilers #im all spent tbh go check out the ao3 end notes for more i have little else 2 say #what else. if you read this i automatically love you. here is my spine #thats all from me today folks #adios

[magioftheseas]

Thoughts of You

Summary: In which Rae observes Claire as she ponders, and she has a few thoughts of her own. All tied to, of course, the lady herself.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None really.

Notes: If I’m gonna be writing villainess stories, at least one of them has to be from an actual yuri. Thus, I Favor The Villainess gets this story. Wooooo~ Lesbians~! Pride! Yeah!

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

It’s the moments where Lady Claire is deep in thought where her more elegant beauty shines through. When she pauses, when she ruminates, whatever it is that she considers—it’s such a lovely sight that I can’t help but admire. I can’t help but be curious, too, but I don’t need to ask unless whatever she’s pondering also troubles her.

It’s funny. As a player of the game, I of course wanted to know everything there was to know about Claire. Her thoughts, her feelings, her wants, her desires—elements which were normally dismissed as Claire was a rival, I wanted access to.

As a character within the ‘game’, it’s fine to not know everything. If a time ever comes where she trusts me fully, she can tell me herself.

That’s much more rewarding, even if it’s never going to happen.

Still, it’s so nice to be present in the moment with Lady Claire. Especially when she can take notice of my admiring, and her face scrunches up in a most adorable way that, as a player, I never would’ve gotten to see.

Aah, yep! Up close and personal is the best!

(So close, and yet so far.)

“You’re thinking weird things again,” Lady Claire hissed at me. “Stop.”

“I’m not! My thoughts are perfectly normal for me!” I protested, knowing it’d rile her up.

Which it did because she stamped her foot.

“Normal for you is weird!” she shouts, pointing. Her hands are so nicely manicured, too! Nails perfectly polished and filed down! “What weird thing are you doing now?! Why are you looking at your hands?!”

Goodness, how worked up Lady Claire gets. There’s no reason to not be honest.

“I was thinking about how lovely it would be if our hands fitted perfectly and snugly together,” I cooed, making grabby noises that had her recoil with a high-pitched squeak of surprise. “Lady Claire, won’t you indulge your lowly servant and please let me hold your hand?”

“How dare you request such a vulgar thing—!”

“Yes, a vulgar being as myself should be slapped!” I crowed. “That’s right, Lady Claire! Please put this vulgar thing in its place with a good hard smack delivered by your perfect hand!”

“What’s wrong with you?!” she cried, sounding distressed.

Ah. Might’ve overdone it. Lady Claire’s not a violent person, after all. She’s too gentle for that.

“You can be gentle with me instead,” I said, clasping my hands. “A pat on the head instead of a hard slap would be fine, too! If that’s what you’d prefer!”

I know I’d much prefer to be treated gently than roughly—even though I would be happy with either if it were Lady Claire...

“N-No!” she exclaimed, red in the face. The color that suited her best, the color of passion and of fire—yep, Lady Claire was perfect! “That’s not what I meant! Why do you always respond in the crudest ways?!” Rather than wait for my teasing response, she gave a beleaguered sigh and waved her hand at me. “Don’t even bother replying to that. I should have known better.”

I exhaled, and it unintentionally comes out as a whistle.

Lady Claire has been completely blindsided by my antics. She’s just muttering to herself about what a headache I am and rubbing her temple for good measure. I’ve completely distracted her from whatever it was that she was thinking about before.

I can’t lie. It makes me happy to be on her mind. It also makes me feel guilty about how selfish it makes me to be happy.

“Shall I fetch you some sweets?” I ask. “Some chocolate, perhaps?”

“I don’t trust you,” Lady Claire huffed, waving her hand at me. “Get Lene to deliver it instead.”

“Right away.”

I can’t lie. That stings a little.

But...it’s fine.

Really, it’s fine.

--

Lady Claire is deep in thought again. She really is lovely.

“...you’re staring,” she mutters darkly, nibbling at a cookie.

“Because you’re so beautiful my eyes can’t be kept away!”

She blushes, growls and—oh, she’s so adorable, too. She really checks all the boxes. Adorable, beautiful, and sexy. It’s no wonder I love her so much. I’ve always, always loved her so much even when I didn’t know anything about her.

(I haven’t gotten to truly know her until recently.)

“If you have something worthwhile to say, then say it!” she barked at me, huffy and precious. “Unless you’re thinking vulgar things again?!”

I opened my mouth for the usual banter.

That’s right! Vulgar as always! You really should punish me, Lady Claire! It’s what I deserve!

I ended up shutting it. Lady Claire takes notice, straightening up and staring holes into me. It makes me happy to have that crystalline blue gaze on me. At the same time, I don’t like that she’s so worried.

“No,” I said. “I don’t have anything worthwhile to say. I apologize, Lady Claire.”

Lady Claire makes a face. Pinched up around her dainty nose, her brow furrowed. That sharp gaze of hers narrows now.

“Something is bothering you,” she pointed out. “If that’s the case, then...”

“I won’t let it impede my services to Lady Claire,” I said, lilting and loving. “You don’t need to worry.”

“But—! You admit you’re bothered!” she balked, as if she couldn’t comprehend it. Honestly, she’s too kind for her own good.

I’ve thought it before, but I’m sure of it now.

A lovely person such as her doesn’t deserve to be saddled with the title of Villainess. She shouldn’t have even been shackled to the title of Rival.

Someone like her absolutely deserves great and wonderful things. She deserves to be happy, above all else.

I can’t trouble her. I really can’t. Especially when...

“I don’t want to put such a worried look on your face,” I hum, leaning in but mindful of keeping some distance. Lady Claire blinks up at me, and it’s so breathtaking, especially in how I can see myself reflected in her gaze. “And, do you want to know the truth? All I ever think about is you, and all I concern myself with is how you can be happy. Because I love you.”

Lady Claire flinches, so I hurriedly pull back.

“It’s true! The only thing that’s ever on my mind is Lady Claire! And how adorable, beautiful, sexy she is!”

“Gah!” she shrieked, as irritated as she was no doubt exasperated. “Can’t you be serious for one second?!”

Absolutely not.

“My love for Lady Claire is as serious as serious can be!” I declared passionately. “Lady Claire, I love and revere you! I’ll do so until the end of time!”

“Just shut up! I don’t want to hear anything more from you, Rae Taylor!”

Ooh, full name. She’s super annoyed now.

I can’t help but laugh.

“I worship you and so much more, Lady Claire!”

“SHUT UUUUUP!!!”

--

Back before all this, when I had been writing fan novels, I’d think up all kinds of ways to circumvent Claire’s fate. There was one idea that was in fashion among fan circles.

Disgracement and banishment.

It was always the quickest way to change up the setting and the perfect stepping stone for learning humility. Since I wanted Claire to flourish in the countryside either way, I dabbled with the idea. It was fun—and there wasn’t anything wrong with it. It was just fiction, after all. It wasn’t real.

If anyone attempted to disgrace Lady Claire here, I wouldn’t be able to stand by. I wouldn’t forgive them. If any god looking down upon us now decided that dragging Lady Claire through the mud would be the best way to teach her a lesson, then I’d have to destroy them.

It’s funny how much everything changes when you’re on the page as opposed to the one holding the pen. Even though I know everything destined to happen, I still get unbearably anxious.

What if I can’t help her? What if I can’t save her?

I didn’t lie when I told her that she’s all I think about and all I worry about. If anything happened to her, I don’t know what I’d do.

Lady Claire deserves to be happy. She doesn’t deserve to be forced to suffer under the pretense of self-improvement. I’ll do whatever I can to help and protect her because I love her with all my heart. Not as a character, but...well.

It’s obvious, right? Why am I telling you about this? I don’t think it’ll give me the sense of control I long for.

I just don’t want to lose the girl I love. So, please don’t take her away.

--

“Rae Taylor. I want to go out. I need some fresh air.”

“Oh! You want me to go along?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?!” she yelled, but she took a deep breath. Composed herself. Still ended up blushing beautifully when she clarified, “Just—I think a brief change of setting can be a good distraction. For both of us.”

Aah.

I love her. I really, really do.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” I swear. “Be it on the path to Hell or the aisle to marriage.”

“W-Why between those two?!” she shrieked. “You—!” Another deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to shake you off anyway. I only expect you to serve me to your fullest abilities!”

“I will! I absolutely will!”

I won’t let you down.

Maybe if I think it hard enough, it’ll become true. Haha, yeah right.

#i favor the villainess #i'm in love with the villainess #rae taylor #claire francois #Relaire #(not the slime the pairing) #Magi fics

[dmcfsstory]

Also available on Ao3: [link]

Full Proofreaded by Hotspot-the-626th(@ deviantart)​

Partner Artist: @wikimb​

Word count: 14552

Trigger Warning: Violence/Gore description, Depression/PTSD cases

Back to September 13th - Hell

At the most obscure depths of Hell, loud fight noises could be heard. Many lesser demons and even strong demons were trying to hide from the fight range.

Mundus, the former Demon King, who still carried scars from his fight against Dante and Trish, was getting an ass-kicking from an unknown creature. The being had three pairs of wings, a snake-ish body, and two pairs of arms holding two silver swords within one set and a longbow with the other. Its body was covered in snow-white feathers with golden details so finely detailed that it seemed to be hand-draw. It had a female humanoid face, with an owl beak in the middle of the lips, and very long blood-red feathers came from its head, looking like hair. Finally, it had a bone formation over the head that looked like an angel's halo.

The being wasn't having trouble fighting Mundus. It was having fun. It threw him really hard on the ground, making some scars open and showing a bit of Mundus' true form under it.

"What… What are you doing here?" Mundus asked, out of breath and terrified.

The creature took their top left hand to cover their mouth while it was laughing out loud. "Hahaha, isn't it simple? you still own me!"

"No! I-!" Mundus barely could reply before having his face buried into the ground by the creature's hands, which were only half his size.

The smile on the creature's face vanished, and now it was a furious look as if someone clicked a button on its mind.

"Listen here! You piece of shit!" it shouted, "You had one job! ONE FUCKING JOB! And not even with two powerful weapons on your side could you make it work!"

Mundus couldn't respond. His shame for losing to a Sparda ascendant was more significant than his courage to face the white creature.

"This is a two-part deal, remember?! You got the coolest part! Mine was so fucking boring!" It continued to scream at him.

"What… do you want…?" Mundus asked, very ashamed.

The creature gave a very questionable smile and then said, getting closer to Mundus' face, "let's remake our deal…"

??? - ??:??

It was a humid, dark, and cold forest. There was a rain scent in the air. The treetops were dense that the grayish sky above could be barely seen, and just a dim light illuminated a few spots around. Through the dark paths between the tall trees, a loud and desperate crying of a human child could be heard.

Vergil found himself in this odd place. He looked around confused; what happened? Wasn't he just at the Qliphoth base among Dante?

But he felt like the child's crying was calling him; that sound gave him an odd urge to follow it.

In a sprint, he began to run the fastest he could. The more he ran inside the forest, the more the man felt he was being watched by not just one, but countless presences as if he was in the middle of a big city.

Still running, he looked to his sides and behind himself, but he couldn't see anything else aside from the deep darkness within the forest.

That didn't stop him from following the child's crying.

He continued to run the fastest he could, but he started to abnormally get tired quickly. Once he began to lose his breath, the scenery around him began to look different. The trees assumed a distorted shape, the bark turned white with screaming faces carved on them, and the branches looked like arms and legs. There were no leaves anymore. He could now see blood veins connecting the trees, and it was getting dimmer and dimmer. The place was getting hotter and the air heavier.

It was getting difficult for him to breathe properly and his legs burning tired as if he was climbing a mountain. He had to stop to catch a breath, or his body would do so by itself.

When he tried to stop, he nearly stumbled on his feet. The man had to hang his hands on his knees, and he was sweating and breathing heavily.

"Just a quick pause, I need… air," he thought.

*Crack*

The sound of crackling wood came from much closer than the child's cry.

*Crack crack* again.

When he noticed, the trees' arms and legs moved, trying to stretch and reach him out. The faces started to move, and blood began to come out of them. The trees also began to make loud noises as if they were screaming, muffing a bit the child's cry from Vergil's hearing.

He didn't have time to watch that grotesque scene; he had to find the crying child. He didn't catch enough breath, but he started to run all over again.

The heavy and hot air wasn't letting him run at the same efficiency as before. But as he continued on his path, the trees were shaking more aggressively. More blood dripped out of it until he was stepping in large pools of blood, making running much more difficult for him.

The lack of oxygen started to make him dizzy. His vision blurred, not letting him see a white crystal-shaped stone in the ground that he stumbled over.

He fell flat on the blood-soaked ground. His body was weakened, and he could barely move. But even between the screams of the trees, he could still hear the child crying, this time much closer.

With all the strength he had, he directed it to his arms. It was like a heavy stone was over him. He did everything in his power to get up. He eventually started doing so but slowly.

Suddenly, he felt his body being dragged down; he looked back in a hurry to see what it was. Human-shaped forms were coming from below the blood pool. To be precise, the figures were the humans from Redgrave City that the Qliphoth had turned into - empty and dried, dark bloody red carcasses.

He tried to Devil Trigger in a desperate move, but none of his demonic magic responded, and then all of his legs were taken under the blood. He wasn't sinking fast, but very slowly, fuelling his panic.

He didn't have Yamato with himself either, and neither could summon it.

Looking around, in front of him, he could spot many black and white crystal-like formations. He extended his left hand, reaching a white crystal, but it was fragile and shattered the moment he'd put his hands on it.

More of the Qliphoth's victims emerged from the blood, this time coming entirely out of the pool. They walked towards Vergil and began to step on him, making him sink faster.

He tried to fight them, but his body was weak. He had zero strength to even break the thin material of the moving carcasses.

One of the carcasses above the blood raised their feet and straight-up stepped on Vergil's head, sending him ultimately down the blood.

More of the victims started to appear under the blood and began to drag him down faster. He could do nothing except to drown in the freezing cold blood.

When everything seemed to be lost, a child's hand came from above the pool, grabbing Vergil's left hand.

The child easily brought him up.

Once his face met the air, he took a deep breath and regained all his strength.

"You okay, Sir?" the child asked.

Vergil quickly took off the liquid from his eyes. It wasn't blood anymore, just normal cold water.

The first thing he saw was the kid: a little boy, around six years old with peach skin and silver hair like his, as well as sky-blue eyes. He was wearing worn-out clothes, something he probably found in the trash or something.

He concluded that he was in a fountain with a statue that resembled Sparda in the middle after looking around. The water wasn't so deep; it was around his belly as he was in a sitting position. The buildings around were very familiar, a Victorian style of construction, much like how he remembered Fortuna. It was night time; the only illumination was from the lamp posts.

"Sir?" the little boy called Vergil's attention.

Vergil took a better look at the kid; he felt his heart being stung by the boy's eyes. Something about him appeared to be different from all the other kids he had seen through his time. He got mesmerized by the gleam in the kid's eyes, it had so much life in it, but the rest of his body was so messed up and dirty.

The kid looked at him, confused. He was totally lost in what Vergil was doing in that fountain. Why was he staring at him like that?

"Who are you?" the boy asked, snapping Vergil back.

As he got up, he presented himself, "My name's Vergil. And you?"

The kid stepped back as Vergil got out of the fountain; still a bit confused, the kid said low, "Mah… mah name is… Nero."

Vergil took a delay to process the name in his mind.

"Thank you for hel-… Nero?!" he yelled, surprised, looking at the boy.

Nero got a bit scared and stepped further away from Vergil.

Understanding the boy's reaction, Vergil took a breath to calm down. He then kneeled to look at Nero at his eyes' height. He extended his right hand to call him closer and said in a tender voice, "Nero… This may sound sudden… but… I'm your father."

Nero's scared face turned into confusion and skepticism.

"You? My Daddy? That's not funny," He said dryly while he pointed at Vergil with all the sassiness of a legit Sparda.

Vergil didn't expect such a reaction, and he replied a bit embarrassed, "Yes… your biological father… I made you with your mother..."

Nero kept staring at him confused, he didn't want to get closer either. He looked at Vergil as if he was crazy or drunk.

"Nero? Who's him?" another voice, practically the same as Vergil's, came from behind.

Vergil got confused just by the voice, but when he turned back, he got thousand times more confused: There was a man in fancy winter clothes that looked almost like him, just a bit older, with a very short beard and his hair was part silver and part black, brushed backward like Vergil's but just a bit messier. His right eye was blue like his, but his left eye was of a bright caramel color. He also had a freshly cut wound crossing his right cheek, and his face and clothes were all dirty from some sort of a fight.

Vergil could also notice a katana in its scabbard, tied to the man's waist. The guard had an odd moon drawing. The white cord wrapping and handle had black paintings similar to a tiger's stripes. And the pommel had a keychain with a jewel very similar to the Perfect Amulet's golden part Vergil once had.

Vergil had to keep his guard on; that guy probably knew how to sword fight.

"Daddy!" Nero yelled with the purest happiness and ran towards the man.

Vergil got up slowly, staring confused at the man, not understanding what kind of doppelganger shit was happening.

"Hehehe! Hey! My baby!" The man yelled happily.

He got Nero up to his arms, and they hugged very tightly. The man even gave a few kisses on the kid's head, making him giggle happily.

"Who the hell are you?!" Vergil demanded.

The man gave a very suspicious smile at Vergil and responded calmly with a bit of sass in the tone, "Haven't you heard? I'm Nero's dad… but you can call me 'Shooting Star Man.'"

"What the…?" Vergil blurted. "I am Nero's father! Who the hell are you, again?!" he yelled out of patience.

"Are you tho?" Shooting Star Man replied with a mocking smile on the face.

"I don't like him... He's scary," Nero said low, hiding his face on Shooting Star Man's shoulder.

That was like a headshot from a bazooka. Vergil barely interacted with the child and already gave him a bad impression.

"Nero…" Vergil whispered disappointedly.

"Are you really his father?" Shooting Star Man asked.

Vergil answered without thinking twice, "Yes! I am!"

The man started to walk around Vergil's right side slowly, giggling in a mocking tone. Vergil didn't dare engage in combat; the man began to release a very intimidating aura, pretty much like Vergil's but many times more potent. His eyes also turned bright green, and his scleras assumed a four-pointed star shape. He had not just demonic magic, but another Vergil couldn't identify what it was, except that it wasn't demonic at all. He already looked like a formidable opponent just by that.

"So…" the man began, now sounding rather serious. "You seriously call yourself this child's father… when you had ripped off his arm?!"

The man turned so Vergil could see Nero's right arm; he didn't have his arm from the elbow below anymore. The amputated area was all covered with lots of bandages. The child was now crying in pain, shocking Vergil even more than the apparition of a modified clone of himself.

Vergil couldn't speak, only stutter in shock and confusion.

"How could you?!" The man accused while trying to comfort Nero.

"But…" Vergil didn't know what to say to defend himself. "I didn't know he was my son back then!"

"That's no excuse, and you know that." Shooting Star Man retorted but remained composed.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the place was Nero's sobbing and sniffing.

"You knew you had other options to help you in that situation. Why did you choose the Qliphoth one?"

Even with the man threatening Vergil, he couldn't stop looking at Nero. The kid was really in pain about the lost arm, and Vergil never felt so guilty about something he did before.

"Stop…just... give Nero to me...please," Vergil begged.

"Just for power? To fill an empty space inside you?!" Shooting Star Man continued.

"Stop!" Vergil yelled.

"You allowed your fears to blind you! You were looking for something you always had!" The man shouted with confidence

"STOOOOOOP!" Vergil screamed at least and, blinded by rage, he sprinted to attack the man.

He was able to summon Yamato midway, and he swung his sword with all the strength he got when he was aiming precisely at the man's right arm.

At the last second, the man parried the attack with his sword. Vergil didn't even see the movement of his arm to get the weapon.

Shooting Star Man's katana's blade seemed to be made out of diamond. Apparently, blue and golden magic energy was flowing inside of it, resembling a space nebula.

Tsukuyomi

Category: unknown

Type: unknown

User(s): Shooting Star Man

Description: A beautiful sword that shines like the clearest night sky filled with stars and galaxies till where the eye can see.

Vergil didn't have time to admire the opponent's weapon. He was too focused on getting Nero back. The man continued to swing his sword in many attempts to wound Shooting Star Man. Still, he was able to entirely deflect and parry every single attack.

Over the head, to the waist, knees, feet, it didn't matter; Vergil couldn't make a single scratch. And the man was using only one hand to swing his sword, while the other was holding Nero - that was watching everything.

In one last attempt to cut the man in half, Vergil put all his strength in one swing. Unfortunately, he was parried once more, and this time the man threw him and his sword backward, almost making him stay down on his knees.

One thing Vergil only noticed after the last attack was the diamond sword's blade form: the blade was smaller, the length of a dagger by now, the rest disappeared.

As he paid more attention to his surroundings, he could see countless little diamond pieces floating in the air around him.

Shooting Star Man turned to Nero and whispered tenderly, "Don't look at it now, my baby."

Nero gently covered his eyes with his left hand and hid his face on the man's shoulder.

Vergil was out of action. He couldn't channel his magic for what he wanted to use it for - he could only use Yamato as an ordinary sword… if he had it in his hands.

"You have made your choices…" the man said.

"...now let the stars judge you..." he said, pointing the broken sword at Vergil.

Everything happened in a matter of half a second or less. The diamond pieces glowed in bright white light, and faster as lighting, they slashed and pierced Vergil through every part of his body.

He felt like he received his own finishing move - Judgment Cut End - many times but as smaller cuts.

He fell to the ground, bathed in his blood. He didn't have any more part of his skin and clothes in one piece, and his internal organs were like swiss cheese. Luckily, only his head didn't receive such severe damage. And since his brain was intact, he was still conscious.

The Man got slowly closer to him and didn't let Nero watch that horrific scene. The small pieces of the blade quickly returned to the handle and formed the sword again as if it never had shattered.

Vergil's blood began to form a vast pool around him and the same human carcasses from inside the blood from before started to rise, using his blood as material.

There were countless more, probably all the victims from the demonic tree, under and deep down the pool.

"Their blood is your blood now," the man said stoically.

Vergil couldn't move his body, but he could see and listen to what was happening.

"What are you gonna do about that?" The man asked.

When the man's presence got closer, Vergil saw Urizen, and he was now V - wearing Vergil's clothes.

They were both now at the dead and dry place inside Vergil's mind.

Urizen kept staring at V's bleak picture in the bloody ground.

"How long will you insist on this?" Urizen asked, his voice sounded sad instead of the usual confidence.

V could do nothing except stare at the demon. He barely could keep his eyes open.

"All of your ideas only brought pain and sorrow to this place. You know we don't deserve friends… a family…" Urizen said with grief.

-a pause-

"Love…"

Urizen got very close to V and raised his right foot over V's body.

"Enough of your human fantasies," he said slowly...

...And went to step on V with all his strength.

Hell - Next day - Day time… probably…

Vergil woke up in a blast. His heart was racing insanely; his arms and legs were shaking like thin branches in a storm. He was so nervous he had difficulty catching a breath; he was breathing heavily, and his body was stiff.

That dream was so vivid that it looked like it was real.

He didn't even pay attention to what was covering him. He just dragged the supposed blanket over his shoulder, cuddling himself tightly in an attempt to find some comfort and calm down.

Until a robust putrid scent snapped him back to his senses: he was covered by Dante's leather coat.

He may be on alert all time, but something he never stopped to pay attention was his and Dante's scent; his brother hasn't taken a bath in a month… or more. Now him… What was soap like? It's been years since he cleaned himself good enough to call it "bathing."

The smell was twisting his stomach. He had to take in some air, but he noticed a magical barrier when he looked outside. The energy from it seemed to be from Dante, which was also nowhere to be found.

A few minutes later...

Vergil didn't take off Dante's jacket from his back to keep himself warmer. He kept long minutes thinking about that dream: why Nero rejected him like that? The Qliphoth's victims were angry at him… and his… doppelganger? Clone? Shooting Star Man's image and power level were too scary to think about it without losing sanity.

"Hey! You woke up!" Dante's voice came from the other side of the barrier, bringing Vergil's attention back to reality. Surprisingly, he was dragging a dead Riot by the leg with him.

"I brought lunch!" He yelled with a smile, raising his prey's dead body.

Void - next day - 08:37AM - Victor's laboratory

Victor, Kyrie, and Nico took Nero, still unconscious, to Victor's laboratory to examine him better.

The place was located on the city's outskirts, in the middle of the remaining natural forest near the town. The building loosely resembled a Port's shed; made out of concrete, the first floor had a very high ceiling(around ten meters high). The second floor had an average height(nearly three meters high).

The first floor seemed to have come out of an old horror movie about some crazy scientist. The walls were painted dark gray that even with the white LED lights, the place still looked dark - there were only a few small windows at the top of the walls that barely could let some sunlight come in.

A top-notch air conditioning system was keeping the huge place fresh.

There weren't walls to make rooms. It did have countless high shelves and glass cabinets with many demonic samples arranged like a small labyrinth, taking up three-quarters of the place. Many had orbs, stuffed little demons and heads or just a random piece of bigger ones. On the shelves were also bottles that held demon appendages and/or organs in a conventional liquid. There were also countless blocks of papers and books.

Sharing space with the labyrinth, there was a shiny ironed, steampunk-like scientific machinery that created a contrast with the multi-colored demonic things. The equipment didn't look modern aside from the computers and giant screens at the remaining quarter of space left. All that could be used to do experiments with whatever demons it had.

Kyrie was only able to help take Nero to that place thanks to her surprising physical strength. After that, she could only observe Victor and Nico trying to examine and take care of her boyfriend.

For some reason, Victor gave the day off to all his assistants. So he had to take care of Nero alone with Nico only.

Nero was sleeping like a rock, and Victor was very thankful for that. He could use the energy readers on his chest and head to better examine his magic without worrying about some sort of rebellion. Visually, the readers were precisely like a Holter Monitor's electrodes.

Nero's physical health was worrisome as Victor suspected: he was underweight, his ribcage was clearly visible, but fortunately, he wasn't anorexic… yet. It was impressive for Victor how Nero could still fight demons. However, Nico pointed out that his efficiency in battles dropped significantly.

Victor theorized that it was because of his desync problem. It is incredibly stressful on the body. But Nico also thought that Nero's mental state could also be its cause because, since the Orphanage Incident, Nero's behavior changed drastically.

Unfortunately, nothing could be pointed as the real reason until the exams are concluded.

While Victor was waiting for some programs to do their job, he turned at Kyrie using his office chair. He looked at her earnestly and then asked, "Please, be honest… Are you a demon? Or a hybrid?"

Kyrie stared at him, confused and at the same time worried. She honestly didn't know how to answer anymore. The last time she checked, she was human, but she wasn't sure anymore after the previous night's events.

Nico was closer to Victor, who was apprehensive, but she decided to let Kyrie tell the story.

Having noticed Kyrie and Nico's apprehensiveness, Victor asked calmly, "so… you don't know?"

Surprised by the doctor's sharp eyes, she couldn't do much except stare at him with eyes wide open. She knew lying wouldn't help; the only option was to tell the truth. "Yes… I don't know anymore," she said in a confused yet sad tone.

Victor took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "Well… let's go slower then... -ahem- how did you get your demonic magic?"

Now that question was more challenging than the previous, making Kyrie more nervous. She started to stutter and scratch her head as she looked away, trying to come up with answers. Nico wanted to respond, but she was able to contain herself for now.

"I guess… it was right after I woke up from the coma a few weeks ago..." she responded with a bit of confusion.

Victor's eyes filled with curiosity; a human turning into a hybrid or even a complete demon without dying a short time after was quite rare.

"Why were you in a coma?" he asked.

"Demons… some kind of 'smart demons' attacked the people of the orphanage I used to work… They severely wounded me when I tried to protect the children." she tried to explain.

"What do you mean by 'smart demons'?" Victor asked curiously.

But Nico had to interfere this time, "That was me that called them like that, Uncle. They were very different from anything I ever saw or studied. They worked like a human team would, and they were even willing to make sacrifices for whatever it was their objective or to protect each other…"

Victor was indeed surprised by Nico's statement. Such description about demons wasn't standard, but that was a discussion for another moment; Kyrie was the focus.

"That's really odd, but let's talk about that after this…" he said calmly. "So, they used some magic on you?" he then asked Kyrie.

"No… only their claws and chains," she replied with a bit of unease to remember that event.

She was thoughtful and quiet for a few seconds. Then gently, she took off the feather from Nero's wing off her hairpin, undoing her look. "But… I can feel my magic acting strange, and sometimes it's even a bit painful when I stay away from Nero's magic for too long."

That last statement made some gears start to work on Victor's brain. However, on the other side, Nico was getting nervous knowing how her uncle would react after getting the knowledge about a particular fact.

"Wait… what?" Victor blurted with confusion. "So… your magic has some relation with Nero's? He did something with you magically?" he asked, worried about the incoming answer.

"No…" Kyrie said with a bit of confusion. "Well… aside the Orbs he tried to use on me while I was in a coma."

Victor massaged his nose bridge nervously, raising up his glasses a bit to do so while making some grumbling noises. After that, he said between pauses, but keeping his composure, "Only demons… can use orbs… it was before that then…"

Nico had enough of holding her anxiety. She couldn't wait anymore for the scold she knew she would get. Slowly, she tried to get into the conversation, but speaking very apprehensively, "She… she received blood transfusion.. from...Nero a-after the attack on the or-rphanage, Uncle V-Vic..."

He kept in dead silence for a moment. Nico was already squinting her eyes and clenching her jaw nervously; her body was stiff while she waited for his reaction. Seeing Nico's behavior, Kyrie started to get nervous too. Still, in her case, without knowing why she just felt like something terrible was coming.

If Victor was a computer, a sound of dial-up internet loading could be heard coming from him. He was thoughtful yet scared; he was staring at the void, trying to process that information.

Nico felt Victor's pressure over her soul already without looking face-to-face yet, the man was quiet and immovable.

By only moving his feet, he made his chair turn in Nico's direction. The more he turned, the more the girl was cold, sweating nervously. Victor's reaction wasn't a surprise, she was already waiting for that, but she didn't want to see it.

He was staring at her intensively, looking straight at her eyes.

"Did you let them do a blood transfusion from a hybrid to a vo-void? And blo-blood from a-a Sparda?" He hadn't yelled but spoke in such a severe tone that it made it seem Nico had killed someone.

"Do you know the consequences?" Victor asked, keeping his posture.

Nico moved her head slightly to the sides with a bit of reluctance, denying her uncle's question.

"S-So do I!" He finally yelled; tension and confusion were clearly noticeable in his voice. "Who knows w-w-what can happ-pen as a consequence of a blood tran-transfusion! And from such a strong being! A Sparda's ascendant! They can't e-even breed with a Void! for bein a-a H-Hybrid!"

Kyrie's world stopped during the last lines from the scientist; it was true then? She and Nero can't have their own children because of what they are? Unfortunately, most of what happened during her so short pregnancy was starting to make sense, the pain and uneasy out of time... the miscarriage…

"They can't what?" Nico interrupted Kyrie's desperate thoughts with a blurted question to her uncle.

"You didn't know?" he asked back, a bit confused but not so surprised.

"That's why… we can't have children?" Kyrie said without looking at the doctor; she already had red-ish teary eyes. Her hands were sweating cold as her heart was racing just to remember the painful day of the miscarriage.

"Oh no..." Victor whispered when he saw Kyrie's depressive image. "Have you two already tried?"

"Th-they tried once…" Nico said a bit awkwardly, holding her stuttering.

Victor felt sorry, but he couldn't do much to help Kyrie in that situation, aside from trying to explain why such an unfortunate event happened. "I'm sorry, but that's how nature works… hybrids can only breed with other hybrids. The same goes for 'pures,' they can only breed with other pures. If something happens outside of this rule, it's because it had some interference… like…ritual spells, scientific experiments, etc."

Kyrie didn't respond, just continued to stare at the void. Her face was the perfect description of sadness and despair. As some tears started to form in her eyes, she quickly took them off using the sleeve's end of her jacket. That information was quite hurtful, she and Nero were planning to have a child of their own for nearly a year, and suddenly their dream was shattered into small pieces. They had names planned, bedroom designs, how they would do when Nero had to leave to work, lots of money saved, and so on… but nothing of that mattered anymore.

A freezing chill suddenly rose up on Nico's spine. She remembered her talk with Nero before the incident, making her very worried about the boy more than she already was. Nero was already in a terrible mental state. If he discovers that his suspicion was correct, he definitely will drop dead in despair. That left her in doubt if they really should tell him that after he wakes up.

But what nobody expected was that Nero was listening to all of that final part of the conversation. He just hadn't spoken or moved because of the heavy fatigue over his body and mind.

Nero let go a cracking snort out, loud enough for the others to hear it when they stopped talking. They all turned at him at the same moment, everyone staring with eyes wide open. Nico even jaw dropped scared; she barely thought of the possible incoming problem, and here it was, kicking the door with both feet.

Nero could feel all of his muscles very stiff as he slowly tried to sit up. His body was in total stress because of his unstable magic. It was like he hadn't moved in a month. He couldn't even imagine doing stretches. If he tried so, probably his muscles would break out of their strings. He could snap a joint or two; his neck and shoulders made loud noises as if they actually had broken. During those cracking sounds, he'd let go very tired and annoyed grumbles.

It took a significant delay, for he had noticed the electrodes all over his chest and head. He looked at them with confusion; his face clearly said, "what the fuck is this?" and with zero caution, he took them off, nearly invalidating the apparatus. Loud error beeps came from Victor's computer screens at the same moment. Nico rushed to shut down the program and stop the ear-hurting noises.

Victor couldn't contain his annoyance and blurted out loud, angry words, "What are you doing?! I was doing critical exams on you! Get back in there!"

Nero turned his tired gaze at him, his eyes squinting of so much fatigue. He didn't say a thing, he only slightly moved his right hand up, and with shaking fingers, he raised the middle finger to Victor. He let go a subtle, muffled giggle with a mischievous smile, mocking the man for no reason.

The doctor didn't get offended; instead, he stared at the ill boy with confusion. He wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer. Nero's mind obviously wasn't where it should be right now.

For a brief moment, Nero stood quiet in place, head down, his upper body was -visibly- softly swinging back and front with his own breath. At the same time, his arms were thrown down like a plush doll's and his back arched forwards. He barely could keep his eyes open. They were dry, blood-red, and empty. He honestly looked like he was having a hangover and could throw up or faint again at any moment.

He was indeed in a lethargic mood.

"Nero…?" Kyrie said in a grievous whispering.

Nero began to giggle again in response to Kyrie's call, low and drunk-ish giggling, slightly choking with his own saliva between a few pauses to breathe.

"I had...a dream…" he began to speak in pauses, his voice fading weak. "My dad… was beating… Vergil's ass… hehe..." he finished with a broken smile, without taking his eyes out of the void.

"What?" both Nico and Victor said together.

"Shooting Star Man?" Kyrie let go without thinking twice.

"Yeah…" Nero said with a smile on his mouth, but his eyes were clearly showing sadness.

"Nero… Shooting Star Man was-" before Kyrie could even finish her phrase, Nero quickly interrupted, aiming an angry gaze at her.

"Shooting Star Man was not a dream!" he yelled with a trembling, almost crying, voice. "He exists! And he's my real dad! Not…the fucking… Vergil…" and a tear rolled down on his cheek.

"Foolishness…" he mumbled, returning his eyes to nothingness.

Hell - Daytime apparently - "same moment"

The twins were still at the same place, inside of a made-up cavern on a huge dying root of the Qliphoth. Dante's magical barrier was still up. A simple but very effective spell he learned with Trish, closing the entrance for other demons don't come to annoy them while they eat their lunch.

They weren't talking with each other. They were quietly eating the meat from the demon Dante had hunted down. Each of them had roasted their parts the way they like it using fire magic.

At every bite Dante did, he made a face of total disgust, squinting his entire face as if eating a pure lemon. The meat tasted awful; it was definitely the worst food he ever ate. He was swallowing every bite almost wholly because he couldn't stand the taste.

On the other hand, Vergil was eating like a savage. Using his teeth from his (standard)Devil Trigger form to eat, he looked like he was barely chewing his food and more like swallowing it whole. The man had barely cooked the Riot meat; there was demon blood dripping down his chin and hands. It looked like he hadn't eaten in days, if not weeks. He was almost done with his part his share, while Dante wasn't even at half of his yet.

Dante couldn't believe in his eyes; never in his head passed the idea of his brother, a person so collected and disciplined, to be acting like a wild beast.

Although, he had folded his coat's arms until the elbow and had taken off the gloves to avoid dirty them while he eats. But there was a detail that gained Dante's attention: Vergil's lower arms looked too skinny, very likely how he remembered V's arms. That made him think that his brother wasn't in good physical health, but he wouldn't ask his brother to just simply take his shirt out to confirm that.

He decided to talk about that another moment, having in mind what happened last night.

"How… how can you eat this food like this?" he asked instead, still dumbfounded while staring somewhat scared at Vergil.

Vergil suddenly stopped eating and looked at Dante with a surprised face. His mouth was so full that his cheeks were puffed up, lots of blood around his mouth and dripping down his chin and hands. He had a quick look at Dante's food. He wasn't paying attention to it and was surprised that his brother hadn't eaten, not even half of it.

Dante couldn't help but stare, scared at that odd and savage image of his older brother.

Vergil gave a big swallow to put everything in his mouth down. He then said stoically, looking at the big piece of meat in his hands he was holding by the bone. "You get used to the taste of it… there will be a moment your tongue will start ignoring it," and he took another bite.

That was a bit unexpected, but at the same time, it wasn't. After last night's story, Dante was more aware that Vergil had a though life trying to survive the consequences of his own acts. But still… used to eat raw meat? Vergil was so focused on his demon side like that? Or was it something else?

"I'm starting to envy you, to be honest," Vergil suddenly broke Dante's thoughts.

Dante turned his gaze from his piece of awful food to his older brother. Vergil had left his ordinarily stoic face and was staring emotionless at his piece of meat half-eaten.

The younger brother's silence made it clear he didn't understand what his older brother just said.

"You have friends… a cool job... -a pause- you didn't have to worry about… surviving all the time…" Vergil said with a bit of sadness in his voice. "You had a family by your side…"

Dante takes a moment to realize what he meant by that last line, "You mean Nero?" he asked just to confirm.

"Yes… I envy you for that… I don't think I ever will experience such moments…" Vergil said with grief as he recalled the dream he had earlier.

Such a statement did sting Dante with suspicion. He really didn't like how that sounded. He started to look for words to describe his feelings towards that, but he was too confused to make up something at that moment.

He couldn't speak, only look at random directions as if searching for some inspiration.

Unfortunately, he couldn't think of anything, and they spent the following minutes of their lunch in silence.

After finishing his share, Vergil licked his fingers and hands, not because the food was good, it was just to clean them out before wearing his gloves again. To clean his face from the demon blood, he did very like how a cat would do; by licking the side of his hand and passing thought where he wanted to clean: his cheeks, chin, and mouth.

Meanwhile, Dante couldn't eat all of his shares and just simply tossed, with no difficulty, the leftovers very far to outside their hideout(without vanishing the magical barrier). He cleaned his hands on his coat anyway.

There was dead silence between them once again, that same awkward silence from the previous day.

Dante was finally coming up with something to ask his brother. Still, he was a bit reluctant this time because of how much Vergil scared and worried him talking about his life. He had to find a way to touch the wounds with more caution than before.

He pretended he would start talking a few times, opening his mouth to speak and turning to look at Vergil, but he ended up giving up.

Vergil only stared at him with suspicion and waiting for a conversation to start, but it never came.

Finally, when Dante moved to start a conversation for real, something called the attention of both at the same time:

"Dante…!"

"Vergil…!"

A weak and tired voice of a woman echoed in their heads out of nowhere.

They both stared at each other scared, they didn't need words, only their look exchange told each other that they heard the same thing.

The voice called them again, but this time a bit louder and clearly in a panic:

"Dante! Vergil! I need your help, please…"

They jumped out of their place and stood up. Vergil looked around the area for some demon that was possibly messing up with them, but Dante stared at the void; that voice was somewhat familiar.

"Kyrie?" he asked in the air.

"Nero's girlfriend?" Vergil blurted, remembering that Nero told him her name back when he was V.

"Nero is gonna die… help! Please!" she said in a sobbing and panicking voice.

Void - same day - 09:00 AM - Victor's Laboratory

Among Nico, Victor was trying to put the electrodes back on Nero for the exam to restart. But he didn't want to collaborate. The man was waving his arms towards them to shove them away every time they touched him or just got closer. While he did so, he was groaning like a stubborn child that didn't want to do what the adults were trying to make him do.

Kyrie tried to talk with him many times, but he wasn't listening to her too. He was avoiding eye contact altogether.

They could only put two, out of the eight, electrodes on Nero the moments before he -inexplicably- started to act like that. One in his right temple and the other at the left side of his chest.

Such behavior was quite shocking, especially for Kyrie. Nero was behaving like a sad and scared child. He was curling up in himself, an attempt to look smaller. His arched back let his spine be more visible under the skin of his skinny body, giving him a more decaying image than before. He got his left arm wrapped around his belly and his right arm over his head, trying to hide his face from the others. He was sitting over his left leg, and the right one was bent up for the knee to help hide his face. He was breathing heavily and pacing fast between groans of a supposed crying being held with all of his mental strength left. He was shivering entirely, almost like he was feeling super cold.

Victor took a step closer to the boy with an electrode in hand. Nero could see him through a small opening between his arm and knee.

"Stay away! Stay away!" he begged in a crumbling voice, curling up even more.

Victor said nothing and stepped back cautiously, only to look at the girls and face anxious looks. After all… they saw a loved one in front of them in a terrible mental and physical situation. Kyrie was on the edge of a panicked crying.

Feeling defeated, Victor asked the ill boy, "okay… what do you want for you to cooperate with us?"

Without leaving his fetal position, Nero's breath accelerated a bit, cold and big tears went down his cheeks. "I want… I want my… dad… my dad… the… Shooting Star Man..." and he started sobbing.

Victor let out a long sigh. He shook his head and took off his glasses. He pressed his nose bridge between his eyes and closed them hard, trying to contain himself for not responding to Nero as if he was sane.

Both Kyrie and Nico couldn't move their eyes away from that decaying person they always knew as a tough and prideful man. Such a situation made them think, "he has been hiding those feelings all this time?", "that's how he truly feels inside?" and "why did he never tell us about that?"

Kyrie let a tear escape thinking about it, but she cleared it quickly. She must be strong; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to help Nero.

Victor put his hands on his waist. Sounding a bit impatient, he asked the girls, "Well then… this totally looks like it is a serious PTSD case, is there something I don't know yet? I have a friend that's a renowned therapist. She can help him out too."

The girls exchanged thoughtful looks, thinking about something they could reveal so the doctor can have a better north about what to do next.

Meanwhile, he walked towards a shelf near the computers. Nico accompanied him with her head only and saw him taking off a sedative glass bottle out of an aluminum box.

She gasped silently and walked to him quickly. "Are you sure this is necessary?" she almost whispered, astonished by her uncle's decision.

"Do you know a better option?" he whispered in a nervous yet worried voice. "He's definitely not in the mental state for this, but I need to finish those exams so I can know how to aid him until Vergil and Dante come back."

Nero could hear them talking with his demonic super hearing, and once he heard "Vergil," his heart raced insanely.

Kyrie could hear them too, but not so clear like Nero. She couldn't understand what was going on, but it wasn't good.

Without leaving his position, Nero began to look in front of him for a way to escape: he'd spot his coat in a hanger and his boots under it near some kind of automatic double door. But how would he run away quickly? Victor surely would know how to stop him.

Only if he could touch him, he realized. He then had an idea that would make them all probably mad, but he *had* to get it out of there in his mind.

He heard their steps on the cold concrete floor getting closer. One thing he couldn't see was the syringe in Victor's hands.

He couldn't wait any longer.

In a second, his hair and all of his body hair turned black. Everyone noticed that an instant before the computer began to make very loud emergency warnings, taking the attention off him for his luck.

Sounds of crackling flames called out the others' attention back. They could see a large red flame passing through a small gap in the middle of the exit door for just a few seconds.

Both Nero and his coat and his boots had disappeared; only the electrodes were left in the chair.

"OH SHIT! NO!" Victor yelled, presuming the flames he saw were Nero.

Nico had stopped the machine's loud noises in a hurry, just to finally read the message on the screen that said: "MAGIC SIGNAL LOST."

The living red flames flew through the woods behind the laboratory, going in the direction of the city. After a minute or two, the fire gained a precise shape, and Nero materialized himself out of it, with his coat and boots in hands.

Not only his hair and body hair were with a different color, but his eyes also changed. They went from the typical sky blue to a bright emerald green color.

He was breathing hard and out of energy, his eyes swollen and red, eyebags dark like Vergil's, and his face tired like never before. He couldn't stand up and threw his body over his knees, but his arms faltered, and he kissed the grassy ground.

He cursed in a whisper and slowly got up, squinting his face at every move because of the pain. His body was so weakened, so exhausted, he wished he just could lay there and cease to exist.

At a slow pace, he wore his jacket, zipping it to feel a bit warmer and then wore his boots. Then his hair and eyes' color returned to the usual silver and sky blue, respectively. Thanks to upgrades on his weapons made by Nico, he summoned Devil Queen and Carnage Rose from the van to his hands as if they were Devil Arms.

He heard his name being called by Kyrie far away in the woods, he couldn't let her find him, or she would bring him back to Victor; he opened his spectral wings in a rush and flew away with a single flap.

Kyrie could spot him flying in the sky as soon he got very high. She became much more apprehensive, realizing she would need to take more drastic measures to contain Nero. Unfortunately, she was the only one around that could do that.

She called her staff like Nero called his weapons and activated the flying mode. She rose to the sky very fast, trying to reach the altitude that probably Nero was. That was her first time going so high, but she calmly stabilized.

By wearing a headphone in her left ear- connected to her phone- she could call Victor. "I've found him! But I will have to chase him!" she told the doctor.

Victor instructed in a hurry: "Oh shit! Well… get Nero and stick that thing I gave to you on his skin. Anywhere is good! But give preference to his chest and head. This is a prototype of a remote magic reader! It's not as efficient as those ones I have here, but it will help a lot already!"

"Okay!" she yelled confidently.

She then looked at a small device Victor gave to her, a gray and round button, smaller than the palm of her hand, with a little red LED light in the middle. She put it back in her pocket and accelerated to catch up with Nero; she couldn't waste more time.

Getting closer to the city, she noticed that she was high in the sky as the megacity's tall buildings. The growth was quite remarkable; the vast gray ocean of buildings till the eye can see. The people and the vehicles' noisy sound in the streets and large avenues, the dark line on the horizon due to the heavy pollution created a total contrast with the shining blue sky with fluffy white clouds above.

She wanted to stop and admire such human creation. She thought she would never leave Fortuna and witness that kind of thing, much less that way.

But that wasn't the time for that; she had to find Nero.

The loud sounds from the city were an annoying buzzing in her ears due to her new demonic hearing and the terrible pollution scents in her nose.

She was flying the fastest she could, turning her head to the sides looking for Nero in a hurry, but how would she find him in such a gigantic place?

She had to think, think! She knew Nero better than anyone else… At least she thought she did. The bitter feeling of Nero never having told her about his grieves made her quite sad, but also, on the other hand, she could understand why he did that...

"Got something?" Victor called her in the phone call, giving her a little jumpscare. For a moment, she forgot she was on a call.

"Not yet… he blended with the city…" she said, worried.

She heard some thoughtful hummings coming from the other side of the call for a moment and then Nico's voice from the background.

"Yeah, that may work," she heard Victor talking with Nico.

"You know the feather you must wear?" He now asked her. "Focus on it. It's still connected to Nero. Spectral objects stay magically connected to their creators until it's vanished by them or when they die."

"Okay, I will try that!"

Kyrie stopped in the air and closed her eyes. She laid her hand over the feather in her hair clip for better focusing. She began to use some meditating techniques she knew, giving her complete focus to the feather's emanating energy.

Slowly, she could feel a magic string leaving the feather. The more she focused, the more she could see the line in her mind.

The line grew… and grew… and grew…

Until she saw Nero at the end. His energy was a mess and aggressive, like a vast hurricane moving out of control and ready to destroy everything in its path.

"I think I found him!" She yelled confidently.

"Amazing!" Victor shouted with relief. "Hurry! Every second, his condition gets worse!"

She left her place in a blast, going full speed. Following the energy path, she didn't know she had that sixth sense now.

Swinging between the buildings quickly and precisely, she noticed the enormous windows of them; there was a problem if she flew so close to ordinary humans? Humans may know that demons and devil hunters exist, but it was okay they see a human doing demon magic like that?

She started to have flashbacks back to the orphanage's attack and felt better fly above the city.

The altitude was very frightening. Death was certain if she fell off - as if the previous height wasn't already - she was a bit demon now but not demon enough to survive such fall like Nero would. Still, she kept herself under control, not looking down, only in front.

Nero's energy was starting to descend towards the city's asphalt. He was probably going to land. The closer she was getting to Nero, the more turbulent the signal was getting.

Now she had to follow the signal in the middle of the giant mass of people; only in an intersection of avenues looked like it had more people than Fortuna's population. That gave her goosebumps, but bringing back Nero to safety kept her motivated.

There were dozens of scents and different energies from the large mass, so filtering Nero's magic out of it would need more concentration than before.

Inside Nero (figuratively)

Much like Vergil's mind, the place was nearly dead, dry soil, and a small pool of water in the middle, but the difference was the tree. Nero's tree was frail at the bottom, and it got a bit stronger at the top, making it look like it was upside down. Devil Queen and Carnage Rose were by the side of the tree.

There were three entities there:

N (Nero's human self), a boy visually the same age as Nero with a face similar to V's, long hair like Nero's Devil Trigger itself - but it was part black and part white -, and yellow eyes. He was also wearing the same clothes Nero was in reality.

Hintkurt (Nero's demon self) was a demon visually similar to Urizen but half its size with a rigid scaled body. It had a few extra eyes through its chest and a large one where it would be his forehead. His shoulders had big mouths with sharp teeth each.

Then there was Hintchack (Nero's unknown self), a sleek and snake-ish creature with four arms and four wings, a humanoid owl face with long feathers that resembled hair in his head, and a third eye like Hintkurt. His body was all white with some red paintings so detailed that it looked hand-painted. He wasn't big like his magical partner; he was the same size as a human.

The three of them were fighting against each other, but the two monsters mostly focused on the human. There were countless markings around the place; scorched areas by fire and other magics, big crackings and holes, claw markings, and so on.

Hintchack used his long tail to slap N on his back, sending him a few steps away. The hit was so strong that N couldn't react to get back on his feet, and his face was slammed against the ground.

"You stupid shit! When you'll learn that's a fucked up idea?!" Hintchack shouted harshly, his voice high pitched and cracked.

N, already wounded from previous hits from the bird-snake-ish creature, tried to get a bit of strength to rise up, but he was out of breath already. He was struggling to lift his head up, "What if...I'm right? Stop judging the others -cough cough- by the cover!"

"Are you serious?!" Hintchack shouted furiously. "No jackshit, Vergil can't have a good side! AND HE'S NOT MONSTER! MONSTER IS DEAD!"

Entirely the opposite from the screaming avian, Hintkurt, with his deep demonic voice, spoken calmly, "The parrot is right. Let go of this stupid idea that Nero will have parents. That's illogical. We're all grown-ups! Adults do not even adopt pre-teens, much less other adults!"

"But… what if…" N stuttered, the sadness on his face was evident, but he wasn't going to give up.

Hintkurt let go a long and annoying breath while Hintchak was close to plucking the feathers of his head out of anger.

"'If I beat Nero… I won't lose next time!'" Hintchack mimicked Vergil. "You really think that's how a father would sound? You idiot!"

"He was even going to kill Dante!" Hintkurt added.

"Another scum…" The bird blurted angrily.

"Dante is not bad!" The demon retorted.

"Oh really?! What… 'uncle' hides the truth about your bloodline for five fucking years?! He was willing to keep it secret if I haven't pressured him!"

Hintkurt didn't know how to respond; deep down, he agreed with that point.

"He… must have… a good reason.." N said between exhausted breaths.

"ARGH! Spare me of this family-care bullshit! He didn't want to have official responsibilities!" The avian shouted, flying closer to N.

"Only visiting to have lunch, making calls just to ask for money or pass a demon hunting job!"

"Help with sword fight training, helped create a devil hunting branch… he even sold some devil arms to gave Nero money for the van's fixes… and…" Before the demon could continue, Hintchack attacked him, cutting his chest using his wings' long sharp feathers.

"ENOUGH!" He shouted, pissed.

"What is wrong with you?!" The demon yelled, confused, stepping back.

"We all know Nero won't be able to have a happy family! Can't we all agree it's a lost case?!" Hintchack shouted out loud.

"We… are not… a lost case…" N said, his voice still weak, but he could stand on his feet now. "You are just paranoid!"

"ME?! PARANOID?! HAHAHA!" and he flew towards N, sending him back to the ground using his four hands.

Holding him still, he shouted in his face, "Who keeps crying and killing Nero's image is not me! You! YOU are the big kid here waiting for irrational wishes to come true! GET LOST! Nero will never have a daddy or a mommy!"

"We always knew this…" Hintkurt added. "Since we lost Monster… the last person that…"

"But! Shooting Star Man!" N interrupted.

"That motherfucker isn't real!" The bird yelled, a vein almost popping in his forehead.

"HE IS! He just won't come back!" The demon shouted, quickly taking the bird off of N, holding him by the tail.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" He shouted and again used his feathers to hurt the demon that released him at the same moment because of the pain from the severe wound.

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" The demon shouted, very pissed off with the stubbornness of the avian fellow.

They both started to fight using their magics, a fight so aggressive they were beginning to destroy the place again, heavy dust began to rise due to the dry soil.

"Stop! STOP! You're hurting Nero!" N shouted with all his strength left, but the magical beings didn't listen. They continued their fight without caring about him or the place.

The human could do nothing but whimper in grief. He continued to stay down on the ground and put his head between his crossed arms. There's nothing he could do… he needed help, and he knew that.

"Vergil… Dante… help me… please…" he whispered in agony.

But the two creatures could -surprising- hear his praying and stopped the fight almost immediately.

"YOU SAID WHAT?!" They shouted in synchrony, looking at the helpless human on the ground.

Back to reality…

Nero was sitting in the shadow of a small alley, hidden from the noisy and agitated crowd. He was in a fetal position, holding his head in pain. His two magics were fighting inside of him, and he barely could keep them under control. He was being hurt from the inside out. It was like small ghostly daggers were stabbing him. He was bleeding a little through his nose and mouth. In his eyes, the blood was mixing with his tears of agony. His skin, however, was starting to show up signals of a crackling similar to dry soil.

His mind was in complete chaos. At the same time, he wanted to call help...he didn't. He didn't know what to do; he just wanted to stay there, quiet, letting his internal struggle consume him.

But then, Kyrie found him. At first, she just observed him from far away, figuring out what was going on. When she got closer, she soon could feel his two magics fighting.

He was immobile.

She slowly walked to the middle of the alley, stepping softly so as not to make a noise. But her focus on the man was so intense that she didn't see the broken glass on the ground.

The soft cracking noise called Nero's attention, and he immediately looked at her.

Noticing who it was behind his foggy and red-ish vision, he quickly got up, using his leftover strength. When he attempted to sprint, Kyrie called him desperately, "NERO, NO! Please! Don't go! I just want to talk!" almost deafening, Victor was still in the call.

He stopped with her calling, but he didn't turn to look at her.

"Nero… please… tell me what is going on… I just want to help you..." she begged.

"HELP?! There's nothing you can help with!" Hintchack yelled furiously.

"Stay away, it will be better like this…" Hintkurt said with a bit of sadness.

"Kyrie… help…" N then cried in a helpless whisper.

"SHUT UP!" Hintchack yelled at him.

With a weak and sad voice, Nero almost whispered, "Just… leave me… please… I don't want to hurt you again..."

"Hurt me? When have you done that?!" She said quite incredulously.

"Lost memory or something?" Hintchack blurted.

"If you're thinking my coma and the exil-" before she could finish her sentence, Nero turned to her. His expression was an incomprehensible mix of sadness, anger, and pain. His face was all dirty with his own blood and tears.

"OF COURSE THEY'RE MY FAULT!" He shouted, his voice fading and muffled due to the fatigue of so much crying.

"All of the shit that happened to us… to your family… it's all my fault! I...I'm cursed…" he said with an ashamed and defeated voice.

Kyrie made a quick connection to what he was talking about. Fortuna's people never liked him because his demon magic attracted demons to him. People used to call him a "demon-magnet" and bully him as hell because of it.

She took a deep breath before continuing to speak. She didn't want to make the man run away again and slowly, she was trying to get closer, they were meters apart.

"Nero… You're not cursed… you're not like everyone always told you…" She tried with the softest voice she could do.

"How could she never notice?" Hintkurt said low and sad, holding N with one hand to make sure he couldn't say anything.

"Yes… Yes, I am!" he yelled between sobbings. "I honestly always envied you and Credo, you always had a family, had loving parents… you were -sob- respected..."- pause to take a breath - "but… but it was just me get in your life… and everything went down the hill -sniff- your parents died… Cre-Credo…" And he once again began to hold back a desperate crying. He did not want to in front of Kyrie.

"Stop, Nero! You can't blame yourself for that!" she tried to call him a little back to his senses.

"Please… let's go back to Victor so he can help you clear your mind and body… please," she begged.

"ENOUGH OF THIS!" Hintchack screamed with rage.

"HOLD UP! We must not hurt her!" Hintkurt interfered quickly.

"You seriously think I would hurt her, dumbass?!" the bird yelled incredulously.

"I don't trust you." the demon responded harshly.

Nero shut down his eyes and put his hands on his head. He was in panic and pain at the same time. The man began to hurt his scalp with his nails, and the bleeding from his eyes, nose, and mouth started to get worse. He had to cough out the blood from his throat.

Kyrie was panicking, but she was able to keep her composure. Still, when she tried to open her mouth to talk again… an eruption of desperate and panicking human screamings echoed around them.

Kyrie gave a quick look behind her just to see what was going on. Countless people were running in a panicked hurry from something, very likely to be demons.

Unfortunately, when she turned to look back at Nero, he had disappeared. Her heart raced in panic; she had no idea from where he could have gone. Once again, she would have to follow his energy track, but the more she saw people running, she began to feel the presence of other demons. It was hard for a newbie Devil-Magic user to concentrate on Nero's magic with all the nearby monsters' interference.

In a sprint, she ran outside the alley just to meet face to face with a demon, but it wasn't any demon: it was the same wolf-skull head ones from yesterday's morning.

Instinctively, using her right hand, she casts a lightning spell that blew up the demon's wolf-skull helmet, revealing a human mummy-like head that was under it.

The demon fell backward, wholly stunned, while she kneeled, holding her right hand in pain. She could feel her magic pulsing like an insane heartbeat in her hand; she thought her hand would literally explode.

'You idiot! You must use the staff… always!' she told herself madly.

"Kyrie? Kyrie?! What happened?!" Victor asked because of the loud, bomb thunder noise he heard on the other side.

"I'm fine… I just… didn't use my staff.." Kyrie said in a tense voice.

"KYRIE!" Nico yelled, a bit incredulous.

"I know… I know!" Kyrie yelled too, but impatient.

“Thunder Rose”

Category: Human-made

Type: Magic Catalyst

User(s): Kyrie

Description: A magical staff made by Nico. It helps Kyrie learn how to control her recently owned demonic magic and since it’s made of a very resistant material, she can also use it as a blunt weapon.

She got back on her feet quickly, and when she stopped to look at the avenue, she almost lost her breath. Jaw dropped; she couldn't count how many demons were there; they came this time in a massive hoard. They were attacking humans and killing them.

But when she paid attention to one that had already killed its prey, she saw that it wasn't eating the human's flesh. Instead, it was taking it away, running against the direction of the attacking ones.

She couldn't handle them by herself alone. It was too many for her.

"What's with all these people screaming?! Where is Nero?!" Victor yelled, his voice very worried.

"There's a bunch of demons here! And Nero ran away from me…

"What?! You MUST find him!" Victor said almost in a demanding tone.

"Take! Take it! Take to the Sin!" one demon that passed close to her caught her attention.

"The Sin needs flesh!"

"The great Sin will revive!" Many of them were shouting in a demonic language she could understand.

Until one of them yelled, "Dragon! Dragon!"

It called her attention that one wasn't attacking humans. It was utterly ignoring them all.

"Get the Dragon!" others yelled.

Some were strangely blabbing, a similar thing the ones from yesterday were.

Dragon? Could they be talking about Nero?

Those demons certainly could tell the difference between demon-magics better than she, and she decided to follow them. She rose up to way up over the panicking crowd riding her winged staff.

She could observe all of those "dragon-seekers" going into the same point. She accelerated to go ahead of them. The more she advanced, the better she could feel Nero's magic apart from the other demons'.

Not even half a minute of flight, she spotted Nero in the middle of the avenue. He was fighting against the same demons, but his condition wasn't letting him fight like he used to. He had to rely on his spectral arms and gun.

Those demons weren't ordinary; they were using teamwork to get close to Nero.

They were all around him, shooting their arrows with chains close to him, trapping him, but Nero knew the only way to leave was flying IF all of them missed their chains. But Nero didn't have the strength -physical, mental, and magical - to fly away so perfectly, they would get him.

Kyrie quickly dived towards the demon horde; in a swift move, she took her staff from her feet, and the wings rolled together to form a ball shape. With all the strength she got, she slammed the demons using her staff as a giant hammer, killing and stunning a few that were in front of Nero.

The wolf-skull-helm demons even dismantled their formation for a brief moment because they didn't see her getting close.

Nero felt some relief in seeing Kyrie again, but at the same time, he got scared, he wanted to leave as fast as possible, but that was a distant wish by that point.

"Kyrie… you…" he mumbled between painful groanings.

"Quiet!" She yelled, mad at him. "Just focus on getting out of this. We talk about that another moment."

Nero got briefly stunned. Never had Kyrie raised her voice towards him like that. He got quiet and decided to listen to her for now.

His legs weakened, and he kneels on the ground. His magics were starting to fight inside him again. Kyrie didn't think twice when she saw him like that. She slapped Victor's device on his nape in one swift move.

"What the hell?!" Nero yelled, confused.

"Don't even think about taking that off! I dare you!" she threaded him.

"YES!" Victor yelled victorious at the other side of the call. "Those readings aren't perfect but will help a little already!"

The demons got furious with her interference. The ones in front of her raised their body quickly and shot their arrows at her.

She swung her staff and blasted an electric discharge at the arrows, sending them away. More demons started to do the same from different directions right after.

She kept blasting energy to send the arrows away. From behind, her left, right, she was circling around and sometimes even jumping over Nero. The man still was kneeling on the ground, trying to catch a breath while blood was dripping from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

During the middle of that situation, she and the demons took a quick pause to breathe, and she could blurt something: "If only… Dante and Vergil…"

"We… -cough cough- don't need… them," Nero said with his trembling voice.

Kyrie's blood boiled that moment; she couldn't stand Nero's stubbornness anymore. He was passing the limit of irrationality.

"SHUT UP!" she shouted, scaring him and the demons around. "Listen here! You're not in the condition to make decisions yourself! So, stay quiet and listen to what I say! Okay?!"

"Oh wow… that was hot", Hintkurt blurted.

"Is that what you're thinking about in this situation?!" N yelled incredulously at him.

"She's… scaring me…" Hintchack said, hiding his head under his wings.

Nero didn't know what to respond to. He just kept quiet, staring at her, his eyes wide open of both surprise and scare.

"Good!" She yelled, returning her gaze to the demons. She couldn't believe she had to raise her voice at Nero like that. She didn't want to, but that was a matter of life and death. He had to cooperate.

Quickly, all the demons coordinated to shoot their arrows at them at the same time. It didn't have how to avoid that attack if not flying.

Kyrie didn't know an area spell to help in that situation either.

Suddenly, the programs on Victor's computer started to give emergency warnings of "magical signal lost" again.

"What the?!" he yelled. "Kyrie?! What happened?!"

No response.

"Kyrie!" He shouted, but she was stunned in place, staring at the small protective red bubble around her and Nero.

Nero had his arms extended, his hair was black, and his eyes green once again. He quickly cast that shield to protect them, sending the arrows away.

He couldn't stand it much longer and dropped tired to the ground. Then, the protective bubble exploded, sending the demons not so far away from them and stunning them in the process.

"KYRIE!" Both Victor and Nico shouted, trying to call her attention. They made it but almost gave her a heart attack.

"I'm here! I'm here!" She replied, scared.

"What happened to Nero?!" Victor asked, quite worried.

"Did he switch magics?!" Nico asked right after.

"He what?!" Victor blurted, now confused.

"Yes, he did," Kyrie replied. Simultaneously, she quickly kneeled to check on him: he was heavily breathing, sweating like crazy, and, unfortunately, but fortunately, he was unconscious.

Still staring at the monitor, Nico explained, "That's the other thing we came to ask you, Uncle Vic. Nero recently discovered he has a second magic type. I couldn't get readings with any device I had… and apparently, yours can't read it too…? Oh shit…"

Victor stayed silent, trying to process why that other magic of Nero couldn't be read by their devices and why he had another type within him?

He then gave a quick gaze to a specific painting he had on the same computer station wall. Noticing the peculiar look, Nico turned to look at the picture too, but she couldn't understand much: it was an image half white in the top and half black in the bottom. She couldn't clearly see the details because the painting was a bit far and wasn't that big.

Victor returned in silence to his computer and started to do something on his programs. Nico saw that something snapped in his mind, and she would not question him about it now.

"Kyrie! Is Nero okay?" Nico asked instead.

"He… he just dropped... unconscious… urgh," her voice sounding as if she was doing a lot of strength.

"What are you doing?" Nico said, worried with her tone.

Kyrie was trying to take Nero to an alley while the demons were stunned, using her staff's magical wings. She pulled the staff with all her strength while the wings formed a basket shape under Nero.

"Trying to… find a safe place…" she replied, breathing heavily.

The demons were starting to snap back to their consciousness when Kyrie entered an alley and could hide her and Nero between large trash containers.

Nero's magic was dim by now, but the demons could still sense it; they barely woke up and already started to flow his weak signal.

Kyrie fiercely stood nearby the place she left Nero. The demons couldn't enter all at once in the area.

They began to menacingly enter the alley, ambling with their four members. The path was dark, cold, and stinky. Only their shiny orange eyes were visible among the shadowy shape they had in the dark.

That vision sent a chill down Kyrie's spine. Her hands were sweating cold inside her gloves, she wanted to take Nero and run away, but that wouldn't be easy to achieve. She had to fight, fight not just for Nero's safety but also hers.

Unfortunately, that was the first time she didn't have Nero's aid to help her when something went wrong. She was alone, entirely by herself only, giving her the same sensation Nero always had when she was in danger.

She positioned herself ready with her staff. There wasn't space for the scythe blade to swing by. The only option was to use brute force and her smaller electric spells.

"Give… the...DRAGON!" the one front-most yelled and jumped towards her.

She could smack the demon's head against the ground, killing it in one quick swing before it could touch her with its scrawny fingers.

Another one fired its arrow to pierce her body, but she spun her staff really quick and rolled the chain on the top side of it. In a decisive move, she pulled the demon at her, and, using the staff's bottom end, she pierced against the demon's head.

She then sent it away against the other ones in an air kick with all her right leg's strength, breaking its chain. Only one got hit by the flying body and sent out of the alley.

Another two climbed the walls in a sprint and jumped over her. With the staff free, she turned the engine on with her magic and blasted the demons away.

But another one was already in a jump towards her right after and threw her against the ground. She held the creature's hands with her staff, as well as its neck.

She was fighting with everything she got. The demon was trying to push her staff against her throat. But her strength wasn't enough, the demon was slowly winning, and she could see its sadistic smile on its mummy face.

KABOOM

The demon was blasted away in a loud and robust light blast.

Kyrie got blind and deaf for a moment; she could only hear a lousy beep. Her head was inexplicable, spinning and hurting from the light blast.

Victor and Nico had a heart test when they heard the loud blast through the call.

While trying to recover her senses, she used her staff to help get support to get up. A bit dizzy and deaf, the first thing she looked after with her partially white vision was Nero. Fortunately, he was in the same place and position she had left him; she could support his back in one of the big trash containers, but his body was stiff. His arms and legs sometimes jumped with little spasms. He wasn't desyncing yet, but his magic definitely wasn't okay.

Looking outside the alley, some demons were killed, and others were just lying down unconscious. They simply vanished away. The ground was temporarily covered with electrostatic energy, making Kyrie a bit reluctant to move out of the place.

"Hey! Those are no demons for noob'ing around!" a strange young voice came from far outside the alley.

Kyrie tried to see who it was; her vision was almost recovered by now. She could only identify a tall human figure, in a scarlet red coat, white hair with a single hair clump of a different darker color. They were holding a tall and shining Spear, probably a weapon for fighting demons; strangely, she could also feel demonic magic coming from them.

"Get out of here!" the person shouted and ran away.

"NO! Wait!" But the person was already far.

"What's up?!" Nico asked right after.

"There was… another… Devil Hunter, I guess…" she replied with confusion, not so sure of what she saw just now.

"Anyway!" she regained all her senses back again. "I need your help, please! I can't take Nero like this by myself. There's too many demons here too."

"No need to worry, pal! We were already getting out stuff together here!" Nico yelled confidently, but deep in her tone, Kyrie felt her worry.

"Thank you!" She said with a bit of relief.

But that wasn't the moment to relax. The demons were still there. Kyrie used this opening to kill the closest demons and to collect some green and red orbs. It was easy to kill them standing still, just blasting their chest and cutting their heads off with no effort at all.

It took her less than 5 minutes to do so, but for a brief moment, she contemplated how much she changed in such a short time. In the end, she shook her head to regain focus. It wasn't the moment for that.

She quickly absorbed the red orbs around and held onto as many green orbs as she could. In a hurry, she brought them to Nero, who absorbed them in his sleep.

The muscular spasms stopped, but he didn't wake up.

The only thing she could do was wait for Nico.

"Dante… Vergil… Where are you? Nero needs your help…" she begged in her thoughts.

The ground began to shake inexplicably, and the demons that she didn't give the final blow began to wake up. It was time for her to fight again? She barely had caught a breath from the previous fight.

The small earthquakes began to get stronger and paced, like quick steps, giving her a chill down her spine. Flashes of Lightning also started to roar in the sky. That wasn't normal; it surely was some demonic thing.

Suddenly, around fifty meters high, a colossal creature falls down in the avenue corner, a few meters ahead of the alley she was.

The demons that woke up ignored her and ran away, but she heard them yelling, "IT'S THE GREAT SIN!", "THE SIN LIVES!"

So, that was the Sin they were talking about earlier? That boss-looking demon?

The colossal creature got up the faster it could. It was incredibly visually similar to the small demons. It had a wolf skull as a helmet, a skinny body with animal legs and human arms. The few differences were it had a black mist-like tail. The one coming from the head was also covering its torso, neck, and, probably, face ultimately.

A person comes jumping from where the demon came. It was that one that told Kyrie to run away. They were surrounded by electricity, and it went straight to the enormous beast, pointing the spear at its chest.

But the beast dodge rolled to the side, and the hunter carved the spear in the ground. But the electricity exploded and got the arms of the best.

The enormous creature howled in pain. An instant after, it tried to swing its claws towards the hunter, who easily avoided it by jumping away using an energy blast.

"Leave me be, you monster!" The creature shouted, not in demon language; it was in human language.

"Me?! The monster?! Look who's talking!" The hunter replied angrily but with a sassy tone under it.

The creature suddenly stopped; his eyes totally showed surprise, and it looked straight at Kyrie.

Witnessing that tremendous stare, Kyrie froze in a cold sweat; her hands got stiff in her staff.

"Dragon? The Dragon?!" The monster said low and surprised.

That was it. Kyrie was dead now. No way she could face that thing. Nero could, but not in the state he was. Her arms and legs got weak of so much scare, and she kneed in despair, but she could feel her inner magic starting to storm inside her like a defense response.

"Dante… Vergil…" she whispered in panic, tears forming in her eyes.

"Wait… THE dragon is here?" the hunter whispered astonishedly, looking at Kyrie too.

"Dante! Vergil! I need your help, please…" she yelled in her thoughts.

"Nero is gonna die… help! Please!" She closed her eyes and held on tight to the staff while the monster was getting up. It had its eyes on her.

Time stopped.

The only thing that she had in mind now was Dante and an assumption of how Vergil would be. They were twins, right? And they should be together in Hell by now.

"Kyrie?!" She heard Dante's voice in her head.

"Nero's girlfriend?" she heard another voice, an unfamiliar voice, but she assumed to be Vergil's.

She thought it was her imagination for a moment, but she could feel her magic inside her acting quite differently. The wish to have the twins there was provoking something on it.

"PLEASE! I need you two here! Nero is sick and can't fight! There's a huge demon looking for him!" she thought in an instant.

"How?! We are here, and you are there!" Dante said, worried.

"Can we trust this voice?" Vergil said quite distrustfully.

"Yes, man! I know this energy! It's definitely Kyrie!"

All that happened in a fraction of a second.

An inexplicable feeling dominated Kyrie that moment; her magic was acting differently like never before. A new instinct awakened in her. She assumed a fierce and intimidating expression.

She strongly hit the ground with her staff's end, carving on it, scaring the giant demon and the hunter.

She embraced that new feeling and let her magic follow it; she could feel it growing stronger inside her. Still, it wasn't out of control. All that seemed quite natural already.

She began to charge the staff at its limits. It looked like the metal plates from the gear would fly away. A large jolt of energy blew up out of it and formed the pink spectral wings.

The staff would be able to hold all the magic she was channeling. She made the terrible decision to conduct her magic by herself.

That was a deadly move.

Barely a second after summoning, the wings disappeared from the staff and quickly reappeared in her back, but this time double in size. Both of her eyes were glowing white, and the sclera turned black. The small white hair clump she had in her fringe hair quickly grew out to have more strands.

The demon began to step back, afraid of what was coming. But the hunter didn't move out of his place.

"DANTE! VERGIL! HEAR ME OUT! FOLLOW MY VOICE!" she shouted in her thoughts while she began to scream out loud due to the heavy magic channeling.

At the end of her wings, two large demonic magical circles formed an azure blue and a crimson red.

"Fuck! She's summoning something!" The hunter yelled.

"DANTE AND VERGIL! I SUMMON YOU!" she shouted with all her lungs' strength.

Vast flames from their respective circle's colors began to blast out from them, and human shapes started to form.

Dante then jumped out of the red circle, and Vergil jumped out of the blue one.

Kyrie's wings immediately dissipated, and the staff did an emergency stop. She had to kneel on the ground; she had never been so tired before. She had to take many deep breaths, she was sweating profusely, and she looked like her heart would jump out of her mouth.

"WE ARE BACK, BITCHES!" Dante shouted as soon as he stepped on the ground.

But Vergil quickly noticed a problem with them, which shocked him for a brief moment.

To be continued...

#forgotten sins story #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc5 vergil #vergil #dante #dmc5 dante #dmc5 nero #original character #dmc5 kyrie #nero

[bnhayyy]

Growing Pains

Wordcount: 7.2k

Series Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Notes: Thank you to @celadongirl​ for the beta! This fic is the third in a series wherein Reiner is Marleyan on Karina’s side, but enough context is provided within that it could probably be read on its own with only a wee bit of confusion. If you enjoy it, please consider following me on twitter at Museflight or buying me a ko-fi!

Summary: Gabi Braun doesn't have a drop of Eldian blood in her. But her cousin does, and for that, the entire family is condemned. 

Or; Gabi is made to live in Liberio after Reiner's heritage is discovered. She tries to avoid the Eldians, only to find that she is not immune to loneliness and Falco Grice is nothing if not persistent. 

He was visiting; the devil that was her cousin. Gabi was careful not to look at him. She wasn't supposed to talk to the devils. Her parents had said that this one was an exception, but she didn't want to take that risk. 

Too bad the devil didn't seem to get the hint. Of course not. He was a devil. 

He cleared his throat. His voice was still dangerously like the one she remembered, the one that had belonged to a good person, back when everything was alright. "Gabi-" 

Gabi snapped her head up to give him her angriest glare - so angry she could feel it burning. "Don't talk to me, devil!" she yelled. 

The devil faltered, and Gabi quickly turned and ran away. By shouting at him, she had messed up and looked at him. And what she saw was absolutely horrible, worse than if she looked up and saw the tallest of titans sitting at her table. 

He still looked like Reiner. But he couldn't be, not anymore. The Reiner she remembered couldn't turn into a monster. The Reiner she remembered wouldn't have let his family get thrown in with the eldians.

But they had been- because of him- because he was-

Gabi raced into her room and collapsed on her bed in a sobbing heap. 

Her parents had told her that the thing that looked like Reiner was going to be sent to the devil island soon. Good. She didn't want him around to make things worse. She didn't want him to stick around and confuse her by acting like her Reiner. 

She wasn't supposed to talk to devils. 

*

It felt like Gabi had been stuck inside ever since they had been moved in with the Eldians. She knew that that wasn't technically true, but it might as well be. Her parents didn't take her out often, and when they did, she had to stay right by their side. She wasn't allowed to play outside without them there to watch her. When they were there to watch, they didn't let her go beyond the tiny yard surrounding their tiny house.

And of course, there was no one for her to play with.

She understood why. The only people around them were Eldian devils. They weren't safe for her to be around. It wasn't safe for her to talk to them, for more reasons than just their evilness.

Gabi knew that they weren't supposed to let the Eldians know that they weren't like them. She didn't really understand why, but she knew that it was their most important rule. She also knew that her parents were worried that she might break the rule if one of them spoke to her. It wasn't true; Gabi was smarter than that. While she didn't want to talk to the eldians, she didn't like that her parents didn't trust her. So she pushed and prodded and begged for more freedom so that she could have the chance to prove it to them.

And because she wanted to play outside.

It took a long time and a lot of swearing up and down that they could trust her, and eventually they started letting her go outside alone again. By the time she was six and a half, she was allowed to leave the yard, just as long as she stayed close enough to see the house.

That was how she met him.

*

Gabi was skipping. She wasn't skipping for any good reason. She just felt like it. It was a nice day, the sun was shining down, she could hear birds in the distance, beyond the bleary old buildings, and it was fun to skip. So she did.

She went further than she should have.

The sight of two devil boys down the street made her glance back at her house, to remind herself that she could be back and safe in a moment if she needed to be. Except the house wasn't there. She couldn't see it. Her eyes widened, a burst of fear exploded in her chest, and she stumbled.

Gabi let out an involuntary yelp as she fell. She caught herself, but it caused a burst of pain in her hands as they tore against the rough pavement, accompanied by an ache in one of her knees. A whimper escaped her throat, and she bit down on her lower lip to stop any more sound from escaping as she fought back tears.

"Hey!" someone called.

Gabi tensed up. Despite the pain, she forced herself to sit up on her knees so that she could see who was talking to her.

It was one of the boys - the smaller one. He was running toward her with what looked like worry on his face. She knew that it couldn't be. A devil wouldn't be worried about some girl he'd never met. He must have been too stupid to realize that though, because he ran right up to her and asked, "are you okay?"

She stared at him. The boy shuffled, uncomfortable, then held out a hand.

Gabi scooted back, eyes wide. The devil boy wanted to touch her.

"It's okay!" the boy said, even though it very much wasn't. "My name's Falco. Maybe we can be-"

No. No more of that.

"Don't talk to me!" Gabi shouted, jumping to her feet and running back the way she came.

*

It didn't take her long to find the house.

When her parents asked how she'd skinned her hands and knee, she told them that she'd tripped and fell. She didn't tell them that she'd gone too far or about the boy she'd met.

*

Her mother had to go to the market. 

Gabi knew that it might be dangerous, since it would be swarming with Eldians, but the change in scenery called to her in a way that she couldn’t ignore. Besides, just because it was dangerous didn't mean she was scared. She begged her mother to be allowed to go with her, and her mother reluctantly agreed. 

In the aftermath, she couldn't tell if going had been a mistake or not. It was definitely nice to get out of the house. She had to stick by her mother's side the entire time, but it was still more than she had gotten lately. 

But she also saw that boy again. ( Falco.)

He looked like he'd been running an errand with his brother when he spotted her. He waved cheerfully, and Gabi glared back, which had made him hesitate and take a step back. 

Falco didn't actually say anything or approach her or her mother. But when they got back home, Gabi found herself wondering how much this boy would bother her. 

She had a feeling that this wouldn't be the end of it. 

*

Gabi was almost seven when her parents finally decided that she could explore a little further by herself.

It was fun.

(It would be more fun if she wasn't alone.)

Sometimes it was fun. It was fun if she found something interesting to explore. Despite being in the devil's land, finding something interesting was actually pretty hard sometimes, seeing as she still wasn't supposed to wander too far from home. She got used to her expanded territory in just a few days. Still, she managed to come up with something to do most of the time. Even when it wasn't fun , it killed time. And when she couldn't come up with anything at all...

It was probably the best she could expect from this place. She didn't belong there and it didn't want her. That didn't matter though, because her parents said that they weren't going to be there forever.

She just hoped that they got out soon. Before things could start to get too boring.

*

Gabi was standing on a big, old, weathered rock next to a creaky, old, abandoned house that she’d already explored four times before when she heard footsteps. She paused, and looked down to see that it was that boy (Falco) again.

"Hi," he said. He sounded a little more shy than before, a little more slow. Maybe he would stop trying to talk to her if she pushed him away again.

(Then no one would talk to her at all.)

Gabi wasn't supposed to talk to the Eldians anyway, and this boy was an Eldian. Even if he was all small and non-threatening looking.

(But could he really do anything if she just said 'hi'?)

Always doing what she was supposed to was boring though, and she was already getting so bored.

"Hi," she said, making sure to frown down at the boy.

Her frown didn't matter. He perked up immediately, like a dog that had been thrown a bone. "Hi!" he chirped. "I was wondering, do you want to-"

"No." 

She'd already said 'hi' when she wasn't supposed to. That was enough. Gabi frowned at the boy again, harder this time, jumped off her stone, and started walking home.

(She definitely didn't wonder what he was going to ask her.)

*

A welcome surprise appeared during another visit to the market.

There was a Marleyan soldier wandering around.

Someone Gabi could talk to!

She was going to wait for her mother at first. But she was taking so long to haggle with the fruit vendor, and as the conversation drew on, Gabi's impatience grew. When she tugged at her mother's shirt sleeve, she was dismissed with a wave, which made a scowl sprout across her face. She didn't know why the soldier was there or how long he would be around. It wasn't fair for her to lose her opportunity to talk to him just because her mother was taking forever with the fruit guy.

Gabi cast a thoughtful glance around the area before allowing her gaze to drift back to the soldier. Her parents didn't like her going over to anyone without them around, but that was with the Eldians. This was a Marleyan soldier. That had to mean that it was okay!

Quietly but quickly, Gabi stepped away from her mother and started walking toward the soldier. She'd be back before she even realized she was gone.

"Hey," Gabi called once she was close enough for the soldier to hear her. "What's your-"

The soldier drew his rifle and pointed it at her. "Get back, devil!" he barked.

Gabi stepped back, heart beating far faster than it should be. It didn't make sense. He was a soldier of Marley. She should be safe around him. Sure, she couldn't tell him that she wasn't Eldian, but she wasn't . He should have been able to tell that she was different because of that. So why was he pointing his gun at her and looking at her like she was some sort of thing?

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried to speak out over the sudden clamor erupting around her. "I'm not-"

"Do not speak unless ordered!"

Gabi opened and closed her mouth. How was she supposed to tell the soldier that she wasn't doing anything bad if she couldn't speak?

"Gabi!" her mother shouted. She raced forward and shoved Gabi behind her, looking up at the soldier with wide, wild eyes.

Her mother looked scared.

As her mother drowned the soldier in apologies before quickly shuffling Gabi away, groceries forgotten, she felt tears prickle in her eyes. They should have been because of how stupid and irritating and unfair that whole thing was. But deep down, she knew the truth.

The tears were there because it had been scary.

*

It was weeks before she was allowed to wander alone again.

She couldn't speak with the Eldians, because they were Eldian, but apparently, she wasn't supposed to speak to Marleyans either. Because it wasn't safe. Because they couldn't know that she wasn't Eldian. Even though she wasn't.

When she asked why, they started saying something, but cut themselves off and said they'd explain when she was older.

When she asked when they would be let back into Marley, they gave some excuse about his mission, but didn't give her an actual answer.

When she asked if she was supposed to spend the rest of her life without talking to anyone, they didn't say anything at all.

*

"I haven't seen you in a while," the boy said.

Gabi was at the abandoned house with the big rock again. She wasn't standing on it or exploring anything this time. Instead, she was sitting on the edge with her feet dangling off the side, watching them as they swung back and forth.

She felt empty. Or at least, she felt empty until the boy came up to her. Then she felt...

She felt like doing something that she wasn't supposed to.

The boy took a step back and started stammering when Gabi looked up at him. He waved a hand around, like he was trying to say that he was innocent of some mystery crime. Like anyone would care if he was. "I can leave if you wa-"

"What's your name?" Gabi asked, even though she already knew what his name was. Better to let him think she'd forgotten than let him know she'd remembered.

The boy - Falco - brightened up immediately. Like a puppy. Or a happy bird hopping around with a stick it had found. He looked more like the puppy, but something about him felt like a bird. "I'm Falco!" he said.

Gabi nodded. "My name is Gabi," she said.

*

Falco wasn’t bad, for an Eldian.

Part of her kept expecting him to prove her wrong after she started letting him spend time with her. But he didn’t. He just kept being better than she expected.

And a lot better than being alone.

*

It happened only a few houses away from Gabi's, because some people just had too much audacity.

She knew Falco would be waiting for her when she set out for the day. Despite being friendly, he didn't really have any friends aside from the other kids in that weird program he was in, and he seemed to spend more time with Gabi than any of them. And Gabi... she wasn't going to risk spending time with any other Eldians. Falco was enough for her.

They had a pattern. There were a lot of variations to it, but they had a pattern. Falco was busy with his training in the morning, so she wouldn't bother leaving the house until the afternoon most of the time. When he was able to hang out earlier, he usually told her the night before so she could plan accordingly. Sometimes he would have to leave for more training after that. Sometimes they would meet up again in the night, when he wasn't too tired and her parents let her go without asking too many questions. Sometimes, on big training days, he would be away for most of the day and they'd only get to see each other for a little while at night. Those days were boring. She would go to the abandoned house and wander around for a little while, trying to stay entertained, but always seemed to end up sitting on the big rock and waiting for him to show up. It sucked, but the stupid puppy face Falco made when he saw her kept her waiting.

The point was, Gabi knew what to expect. She liked knowing what to expect when it came to Falco. Maybe she would accept a nice surprise, but that was all.

Showing up at their meeting spot to find two larger boys cornering Falco wasn't a nice surprise. Their body language was tense and aggressive, and Falco was all but cowering against the wall.

Gabi stared, brows furrowing when one of the larger boys said something loud and Falco tried to shuffle away. It didn't make sense. Falco had said that he was in that titan-wannabe program and learning how to fight. So why was he just standing there and letting them push him around?

One of the boys moved to punch him, and as a wave of white-hot anger washed over her, Gabi decided that the reasons didn't matter. She wouldn't call Falco her friend, but she wasn't going to stand around and let people treat him like that. 

(He was hers.)

Gabi rushed forward and jumped on the closest boy's back, wrapping one arm around his neck and smacking the top of his head with the other one. "You leave him alone!" she ordered, tightening her grasp when the boy began to flail and shout.

"Gabi!" Falco cried.

"Hey!" the second boy cried in the same instant. He moved to rush toward Gabi, which finally spurred Falco into action. He rushed forward and kicked the boy right between the legs, causing him to crumple in on himself like a dead spider.

Gabi started to laugh, only to be cut off when the boy she was still clinging to grabbed the arm wrapped around his neck and tried to flip her off him. She let out a tiny scream, tightened the arm around his neck to avoid being flung off, and fisted her free hand into the boy's hair. Once she was secure, wrenched that arm around his neck out of his grasp and plunged that hand into his hair too.

"Be careful!" Falco cried. He was stepping anxiously around them now, his eyes flicking between the boy Gabi was clinging to and the one still on the ground.

"Crazy bitch," the boy she was clinging to spat. His voice sounded garbled, like he was in pain. Good. "I was just-"

"I don't care!" Gabi shrieked. "Go away!" She briefly let go of his hair with one of her hands in order to bonk him again for good measure.

"I will!" the boy cried. "Just get off!"

Scowling, Gabi let go of the boy and let herself drop to the ground. Her victim skittered over to his fallen friend while Falco raced over to her. "Are you okay?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Gabi looked at Falco and scowled. There was a bruise welling up underneath his eye, and when she looked down, she noticed scratches covering his knees and the palm of his exposed hand. "Why are you asking that?" she demanded. "You're the one who's all beaten up!"

She turned to shoot a glare at the pair of scumbags. Now that she was closer and not on the one boy's back, she could see that they really were significantly bigger than her and Falco. Just not big enough to stand a chance against her. They weren't actual titans, after all. They weren't soldiers, either. They didn't have guns or any real means to beat her down. She wasn't going to let herself be scared by them, and if they tried anything, she could probably even take both of them at once.

---Falco was in a pretty sad state though, and the boys were shooting him as many glares as her as they tried to pull themselves together.

Gabi swallowed down a knot in her throat. She’d been able to pounce on one of the boys before, but now she’d lost the element of surprise. Could she take them on without it? Probably , but with Falco all scared and beaten up…

No. There was no time to think or plan or worry. She had to act now.

"Come on," Gabi said before grabbing Falco's wrist and starting off at a run.

"Where are we going?" Falco asked. He didn't try to pull away. In fact, he kept up with her easily. Good. This would be easier if she didn't need to drag him all the way home.

"My house. We're gonna get you patched up."

"Oh. You don't need to-"

"Shut up, Falco."

He shut up.

Upon reaching her house, Gabi shoved the front door open and dragged Falco into the kitchen. Her mother was standing by the sink washing dishes, but looked up in surprise at the sudden sound. "Gabi," she greeted. Her gaze traveled down her arm, over to Falco, where a hint of wariness entered her expression. "Who's this?" she asked.

"Falco," Gabi said. "He's hurt."

"I can see that," her mother slowly said.

Her eyes flickered over to meet Gabi's. Gabi stood firm. Finally, her mother sighed.

"Let's get him taken care of, then."

*

Her mother patched Falco up and sent him on his way. Gabi knew that she wouldn't be allowed to go back out for the rest of the day after that, so she just told him that she'd see him tomorrow. And for hours, that was that.

Until dinner rolled around and, with everyone gathered around the table, her mother mentioned the boy Gabi brought over.

"You aren't supposed to be making friends with Eldians," her aunt said, disapproving.

Her mother snorted. "You're one to talk," she muttered.

"Gabi, how long have you been hanging out with this boy?" her father asked, worry clear in his voice.

Gabi shrugged. "A while." A few months. It had been a few months since she'd told him her name and started meeting up with him. Her parents wouldn't be happy with her if she said that though.

Her father's frown deepened. "Gabi-"

"I was bored!" Gabi exclaimed. "I'm not supposed to talk to anyone, and it's boring and-" lonely. "- it sucks."

"I can understand that," her mother said, voice slow and careful. "But you know there's a reason you aren't supposed to talk to Eldians, right?"

"I know," Gabi said. "But Falco's..." she paused, struggling to find the words. After a moment, she turned to look at her aunt. "Aunt Karina, you said that some Eldians are different from the others. Better." That was what she'd tried to say about him anyway. Gabi didn't trust that her aunt had been right at all when she said that, didn't see how he had made anything but bad things happen, but Falco... "Falco's like that. He's special."

Maybe he was her friend after all.

No one said anything for a long time. Finally, her aunt said, "be that as it may, you're better off not getting attached. We'll be getting out of here when Reiner gets back."

Gabi's parents glanced at each other and exchanged some wordless message. She looked at them and frowned, but quickly turned her attention back to her aunt. "That could take ages though!" she protested. "You can't tell me that I'm supposed to be alone until then! Falco's a good Eldian - you should let me play with him."

The room went quiet again. Her mother eventually sighed and, with reluctance plain in her voice, said, "alright. You can continue to see this boy. Just... be careful, and don't let yourself get too attached. You are still Marleyan, Gabi. This can't last forever."

*

"You should meet the other warrior candidates sometime," Falco suggested.

Gabi wrinkled her nose. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I think you'd all get along?"

He was doing that thing again, the one where he tried to sound confident but ended up sounding more like he was asking a question than anything. It made Gabi raise an eyebrow at him. That, in turn, made him falter.

"And also... I think you could use more friends," he hesitantly admitted.

Gabi frowned. Why on earth would he say something like that?

(Was he getting sick of her?)

"I don't need more friends," she said.

It was true. She had managed without any friends for years. Now she was almost eight years old and stronger than ever. She was perfectly fine with it staying just her and Falco.

(Was he okay with that?)

"Maybe not, but you deserve more," Falco argued.

Gabi relaxed imperceptibly.

"I don't want to make friends with just anybody," she said warily. The closest she could come to saying the truth.

"I know," Falco said, even though he really, really didn't. "But I think you'll really like them! I'm actually kinda..." He trailed off, then looked away.

Gabi leaned forward to get a closer look at the blush trailing up his cheeks. "You're kinda what?"

He hitched his shoulders up and ducked his head down.

"Falco!" Gabi pressed. "What were you going to say?"

"I'm kinda surprised that you aren't in the warrior program," he squeaked out, still not looking up. "I think you'd be good at it."

"Oh." Gabi looked down at her feet and tapped her fingers against the bench they were sitting on. She definitely couldn't tell him the truth about that one. What could she tell him though? What would he believe? What could she say that didn't run the risk of him finding out that she was lying later?

(Would she be in the warrior program if she was an Eldian? They seemed to think it was a big honor to be chosen to turn into a monster.)

"I'm not in the warrior program because... there's no need," Gabi slowly said.

Falco perked up. The blush was gone. Now he just looked at her with curiosity glimmering in her eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Gabi struggled to hold his gaze and force her next words out, but somehow, she managed. "My cousin's the Armored Titan." A devil, even though she knew Falco wouldn't see it like that.

And he didn't.

Falco gasped. "He is! Why didn't you tell me!? Gabi, that's... hey." The curiosity shifted into worry as he reached out to touch her arm. "Is... is something wrong?"

Gabi blinked, which caused her to realize just how much her eyes stung. Oh. Oh no.

"I'm fine," she said, reaching an arm up to scrub at her eyes. "I just don't see what's so great about turning into a monster."

"The shifters aren't monsters," Falco said, a flicker of hurt flashing across his face.

Right . Falco was a warrior candidate. All of his training was in the hopes that one day he'd be chosen to turn into a monster. Just like her cousin. If he was chosen...

No, surely it wouldn't be the same. Falco was a good thing in her life. A good person. Her cousin had caused her family a whole lot of harm, and no matter what her aunt said, it didn't look like whatever he was doing on that island was doing anything to make it better. He and Falco weren't, wouldn't, and couldn't be the same.

Gabi wanted to tell Falco that it was okay, that he was an exception, but she couldn't risk him asking why. The best she could do was let the fire drain out of her voice as she said, "they turn into titans. Isn't that upsetting to you?"

"A little," Falco confessed. "But the shifters are really brave."

"Because they protect Marley?"

"Kinda, but also... I think they do a lot for their families."

Gabi blinked. When she didn't say anything, Falco nodded and continued. "You know how titan shifters get to be honorary Marleyans, right? And their families get some benefits because of that."

Gabi nodded, even though her family hadn't received much in the way of extra benefits other than not being executed. Her aunt said that would change once her cousin returned from Paradis, but she wasn't sure how much she trusted that, seeing as he was the reason they were in this situation in the first place.

"Sometimes, it's also a second chance." Falco paused then, eyes clouding over with sadness. "My... My uncle did something bad, a long time ago. He was sent to paradise, and now me and Colt are in the warrior program to prove that the whole family isn't evil."

Gabi reached out to squeeze Falco's hand. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

(Not about his uncle, obviously, but anyone who spent a little time with Falco should be able to tell that he wasn't evil regardless of who he was related to.)

Falco gave her a small smile. "Thanks. I think we'll... I hope we'll do well. But for us and the others... it's a way to prove ourselves, take care of our family, and show Marley that we aren't evil . It's the closest that we'll come to them seeing us as people. Turning into a titan doesn't feel like it matters much, compared to that."

Gabi didn't know what to say to that. Luckily, she didn't need to, because Falco kept on talking. "Udo and Zofia - the candidates I spend the most time with - are almost as hard-working as you. I think you'd get along."

The pair were silent for a moment. Then, finally, Gabi sighed. "Alright. You can introduce me to them."

They couldn't be her friends, not like Falco, but... maybe they would be decent company.

*

Udo and Zofia were alright. They weren't Falco, but… they were alright. 

*

A few months after she turned eight years old, Gabi woke up to the sound of shouting.

It cut off almost immediately after, but the damage was already done by then. How could she roll over and go back to bed when she knew that something was happening?

She crept out of bed as quietly as her feet could carry her. Once she was outside her room, she could hear her family's voices again. They were too quiet for her to make out what they were saying, but loud enough for her to follow the sound. It led her to the kitchen. There, she pressed herself up against the wall just outside the entryway and strained to listen.

"You're delusional, Karina!" her mother spat.

Her father sounded worried as he began, "Lyra-"

Her aunt cut him off. "I am not! When Reiner gets back-"

"- If gets back-"

"- Don't you dare-"

"- If he gets back, then he might be forgiven for existing. Do you really think that'll do anything to help our situation?"

Her aunt sniffed. "If Reiner does well-"

"Karina, that's a lot of 'if's," her father said, voice low.

"Well, excuse me for having faith in my son, George."

"You can have your faith," her mother cut in, voice cold. "It doesn't matter. Even if he does everything perfectly, the best we can hope for is to be treated like the families of the other Eldian warrior families."

For a moment, silence descended over the household, and all Gabi could hear was her own heart beating. It was broken by her aunt's voice, lower and more subdued, saying, "well, if he gets honorary Marleyan status, they might-"

Her mother laughed, harsh and unhappy. "Let us all back into Marley? You've been in this place for too long, Karina. Even if they let us out, it won't be until Reiner's-"

"Don't. Say it."

"...There's nothing Reiner can do to help us," her mother said after a long moment. "And I'm not saying it's his fault. I'm saying that it would be nice if you would take a little responsibility."

"Responsibility for what?"

"Are you kidding-"

"I've already been punished, haven't I? Me and Reiner. I know honorary Marleyan status isn't that great, but we are more than that. I know that this place is awful. But we will get out eventually. The deal was that our status as Marleyan citizens will be restored if we perform well. What are you worried about?"

"I'm worried about Gabi."

Gabi felt a lump lodge itself in her throat. She took in a deep breath and held it, since she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stay quiet otherwise.

"What about Gabi?" Her aunt asked. "She's been adjusting well."

"Yes, because she was thrown in here when she was three," her mother argued. "By the time Reiner dies, the Eldian Internment Zone will be all she's ever known. What if they aren't willing to take her back?"

It became hard to hear after that. Her family was still talking just as loudly as before, but the pounding of her heart and buzzing in her head made it hard for her to think.

Marley might not want her back? Just because she had grown up in Liberio? Where they had made her grow up? Why? What were they afraid she would do? It was ridiculous and weird and... unfair.

(They treated Falco unfairly, making him and his brother join the warrior program because of their uncle.)

Gabi raced back to her room and crawled into bed. She laid there, eyes squeezed shut, pretending that she was asleep. Between the racket in her head and heart, it felt like someone should have heard her. Like someone would come in and check on her in a moment. But no one did.

After a few moments, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Then she started to plan.

*

The facts were simple.

Gabi's family wanted to get out of Liberio. Aunt Karina thought that Reiner would get them out. Her mother didn't think that there was anything he could do to help, which made sense. Reiner was the reason they were in this situation in the first place. How could he possibly make anything better?

Her mother was also worried that Marley wouldn't take Gabi back because she had grown up in Liberio. It made sense when she stopped to think about it. How were Marley's important people supposed to know that Gabi was only hanging out with good Eldians like Falco and Udo and Zofia? They might have been worried that the bad Eldians had rubbed off on her. It wasn't fair, since they were the ones who made her grow up in Liberio in the first place, but...

Marley wasn't always fair. That was why Falco was in the warrior program because of something his uncle had done. He was a good Eldian, but he had to work himself to the bone to prove it. Because sometimes Marley struggled to see things that should have been obvious and pick the good Eldians out from all the bad. That was probably going to be the situation with her. She would need to make them see that it was still good.

Sometimes the warrior program served as a second chance. It was an opportunity to prove that you were good despite who you were related to - or grew up around.

Gabi didn't have a drop of Eldian blood in her. She wouldn't be accepted as a warrior candidate because she couldn't inherit a titan in the first place. However, there were also non-shifters who worked with the Eldian unit. Most of them were the Marleyans who kept them in line, but she'd heard that there were a few exceptions, lower-ranked soldiers who'd proven themselves exceptional. If she could become one of them, if she could make herself useful to Marley and prove herself in their eyes, show that she hadn't become too sympathetic toward the Eldians and only surrounded herself with the very best of them...

Reiner was working for Marley because he had no other choice. But not her. Surely that would mean something.

She would help her family where Reiner couldn't. She would become one of their very best warriors, and when the time came, her family would be allowed back into Marley. And Gabi would go with them.

(She would miss Falco.)

*

"What if I joined the military?" Gabi asked.

Falco choked on his own spit and almost fell off the rock. She grabbed onto his shoulder to steady him, even though they were tall enough now that it wouldn't be much of a drop even if he did fall.

"W-why would you do that?" he asked. "I thought- your cousin-"

"Have you considered that maybe I also want to be useful?" Gabi challenged, letting go of his arm and leaning forward.

Falco leaned back. "There are plenty of other ways to be useful. The military's - it's really dangerous."

Gabi crossed her arms and let out a huff. "I'm fine with dangerous. Besides, that's not all there is to it. The family can't depend entirely on Reiner, and I want to help."

"Are you sure?" Falco asked. "I mean, if there's anything you need, I c-" He looked away, cheeks slowly starting to dust pink. "There are other ways," he said.

"Yeah, but none of them would be as effective." Nothing else would get her in around the warrior program, which was what she needed to happen.

"I see." Falco bit his lower lip. "I mean, it would be nice to see you more often, I guess. If you'll be around the warriors."

"Of course," Gabi said, allowing a hint of haughtiness to slip into her voice. "I have a plan." It was a risky plan, but she was sure it would pay off.

"Are you- Are you trying to get in to the program?" he asked, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. Probably worried that she would outscore him if she got in. She probably would, too, if it wasn't impossible.

"No," Gabi said. "It's probably too late for me to get in. But I can do the next best thing and work with you."

Falco nodded. He didn't look entirely convinced, but that wasn't her problem. She knew that she wouldn't actually pose a threat to his standing. He had no reason to worry, and in time, hopefully he would see that.

It did make her want to change the subject though.

"Speaking of, Colt's doing well, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Falco said, perking up a little. "It looks like there's a real chance he'll be chosen as the beast titan's successor."

"That's great!" Gabi said. "Are you going to drop out if he's chosen?"

Falco hesitated. When he spoke, it was with a new flicker of resolve in his eyes. "No," he said. "I don't think I will."

*

Gabi had met Commander Magath several times since she started hanging out with Udo and Zofia. He was a strict man who generally seemed to view Eldians the same as all Marleyans. However, he didn't take it long for her to start to suspect that he cared about the warrior candidates more than he let on. She was also pretty sure that he liked her, even if he did sometimes look at her like he was seeing a ghost.

So much of her plan hinged on the hope that she was right about him liking her. It could mean so much trouble if she was wrong. But if she was right...

The potential benefits of her being right outweighed the risk of her being wrong.

Her opportunity arose on a bright warm day. Gabi was walking around town with Falco, Udo, and Zofia when she spotted Magath walking down the street with Zeke Jaeger and a handful of other officials. She didn't know who most of them were or what they were doing there. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that most of them were Marleyan and one of them looked like he outranked Magath.

Gabi turned to her friends and grinned. "I'll be right back," she whispered, taking a step back.

Udo and Zofia exchanged a confused look but didn't question her. Falco, however, stepped forward, worry shining bright on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Gabi's grin grew. "I told you. I'm going to get into the military."

She didn't wait so much as another second before turning around and racing toward the officials. As she did, she coaxed her expression into one of gleaming admiration, the sort that even the soldier from that day in the marketplace would have had trouble lashing out against.

"Excuse me!" she cried. "Commander Magath, Mister Jaeger!" Gabi saluted smartly - perfectly - as she skidded to a stop in front of them. Then, as she looked at the Marleyans, she made sure to look at them like they were heroes, perfect and above her in every way. The way every Marleyan wanted Eldians to look at them. "Are these your superiors?"

All of the men looked caught off-guard. Magath, though, he looked wary.

That wariness might have caused a problem if Zeke didn't beat him to responding. "They are," he said.

"That's so cool!" Gabi exclaimed. Her voice was perfectly sincere. She didn't even need to fake it, considering what she was saying. Even if her own circumstances kind of sucked, she could still appreciate the good that all of these men did. "Thank you for everything you do. My mother was telling me about the devil island the other day, and I'm really glad that Marley's here to protect everyone. I know Liberio's full of Eldians, but I'm glad we don't have those devils with us."

She could practically feel Magath's gaze boring into her at this point. As the chief overseer of the warrior unit, he knew about her family, which meant that he probably knew she was up to something. And because he knew about her family, there was too big a risk that he would turn her down if she approached him and asked to be thrown into the military. That was why he wasn't the one that mattered here though. Gabi kept her gaze on the other Marleyans, noting the bemused expressions. One of them, the one who outranked Magath, gave a tiny nod.

It was working.

"I was actually thinking," Gabi continued, training a hint of humility and hope into her voice. "I want to help the warrior unit!"

In the corner of her eyes, she noticed Magath's expression shift into one of shock. There was something else under it though, something tired and guarded.

"You do, do you?" Zeke asked, amusement leaking into his voice.

"I do!" Gabi exclaimed. "I know I'm probably too old to become a warrior candidate, but there have to be other ways I can help, so let me prove myself to you! If you give me the chance, I'll train night and day to catch up!"

Magath frowned at that point. "Gabi..."

"Magath, you know this girl?" the commanding officer cut in.

"I do," Magath said. "She's the Armored Titan's cousin."

Zeke raised an eyebrow at that. The other Marleyans, however, looked thoughtful, but not suspicious or concerned. Good.

Gabi held her breath.

Finally, the higher ranking officer turned to Magath and said, "she should already be familiar with the program then, and we could always use another soldier."

"No point in turning down such an earnest offer to help," Zeke remarked, an odd twinkle in his eyes.

When Magath hesitated for a moment longer, the commanding officer pointed out, "I'm sure you can find some use for her."

Magath let out a deep breath. "Fine." As he turned to Gabi, eyes shadowed and grave, she was certain that he was seeing someone other than her. It didn't matter though, because he said, "come with Falco to training tomorrow."

Gabi took in a deep breath and smiled so widely that she thought it might pop off her face. "Thank you, Sir!"

Zeke chuckled. Magath, meanwhile, waved a hand and said, "you're dismissed."

Gabi saluted before sprinting back to her friends, and every step felt like she was walking on air.

She was going to save her family. They were going to get out of Liberio.

(Maybe, if they both did well, she could bring Falco with her.)

#Gabi Braun #Falco Grice #Falbi #Reiner Braun #SNK #SNK Fic #Attack on Titan #my fic #my writing #unchanging destinations

[alittlebitgoofy]

if you want it make a move (taywhora)

part 2!! surprised i did this so quick but motivation happens, I'm not sure if it went right, I'm still new to this but we trying. we stan emerald for betaing, love it when someone is shocked i write canon compliant now skdjhfksjdf

title is from yours by now now

ao3 link 

The drive home was monotonous, despite the entertainment of Bimini next to him. Tayce felt the hangover from last night dully present throughout the day. It filled him with a bit of dread to realise tonight would end up much the same. Perhaps he could hold back on the alcohol, though with A’whora around, that didn’t seem like a possibility. He hated the taste of it and yet loved to get drunk with people. Tayce learnt that one after many a night of drinking. The more he had, the more he’d egg Tayce on. It led to many horrible hangovers but it was part of what made his roommate so fun.

Speaking of A’whora, said roommate was constantly texting him. Clearly, the clingy behavior wasn’t just a result of the alcohol. Tayce chalked it up to excitement. A’whora loved a party and celebrating the end of their journey on the show was something they had to do. They wanted to send it off well and have a fun night to remember.

“Is that A’whora again? Swear she never leaves you to breathe.” Bimini giggled as Tayce’s phone vibrated again. He could only laugh it off, knowing the connotations of it all but not wanting to deal with that. The sexual tension was the most annoying thing, Bimini knew his aversion to it but it made jokes all the funnier to most people.

“He’s a right hound, was drunk calling me last night asking when I'll get home when I’d already told him.” Tayce couldn’t help but smile a bit in memory of the night before. It was stupid and by no means should have entertained him but there was something cute about someone so genuinely missing him after only a day apart. This was their thing to celebrate and he craved it as much as his roommate did.

“Aww, he misses you. That’s cute.”

Bimini teased, with Tayce barely able to hide the blush forming at the idea of it all. There was a part of him that missed the idiot when he wasn’t around. Something about his goofy smile, dimples showing whenever he barked out a laugh that was reminiscent of a seal. It made his heart squeeze in a way no one else could. The absolute hound, having the gall to be that cute.

He stayed uncharacteristically quiet, participating in conversation with Bimini every so often but staring out the window texting A’whora more than anything. Thankfully Bimini didn’t comment on it, assuming it was the hangover and not the thought of the clingy boy he called his best friend.

---

The realisation that Tayce didn’t have his phone had come quickly after entering the door. A’whora was there offering his own to call and sort the situation. It came to the conclusion of them mailing it back, with Tayce frustrated about the amount of time without his phone but thankful it was safe and he’d get it back.

A’whora helped take his mind off it, jumping at the chance to pull him into a tight hug and whisper how good he was in the finale. It was a brief moment, and Tayce wanted nothing more than to throw his bag in his room and chill out for a bit before they started celebrating.

The table that got set up was nostalgic, it looked like a kids party, with party rings, sausage rolls. The staples of a party for children, but it added to the warmth bubbling up in Tayce. They’d gotten a huge cake from some company he’d forgotten the second A’whora told him.

A’whora seemed delighted by it all, reveling in how the table was set up. Tayce couldn’t help but laugh at how focused he was on the aesthetics, always the designer.

“Wonder how easy it’ll be for you to get drunk, my favourite lightweight.” Tayce smirked, poking A’whora’s shoulder as he let out a huff.

“I am not! You can’t drink that much more than me anyway, you hound!” He exclaimed, gently shoving Tayce in protest.

“You take 3 or 4 drinks to get tipsy, don’t kid yourself.” He deadpanned, A’whora pouting in response, refusing to confirm or deny the statement though they both knew it was true.

His guess was right, on the fourth drink A’whora was sneaking closer, clumsily trying to get his attention without causing too much of a distraction. Their roommates would hound them the second they realised something may be going on but he was too busy buzzing from the alcohol and close proximity to Tayce to care.

Tayce himself wasn’t far off, a few drinks in, beginning to feel the alcohol in his system. Though there were some shots involved too, he still wasn’t as bad as the mess nestled into him.

A’whora was glued to his side for most of the night; the more drinks, the more giddy the pair became. Everything felt real now, the show had ended and it was supposed to be sad but in the company of each other it wasn’t. They were so glad it happened, reflecting on it all and sending it off like this just felt right.

“I’m so glad we got to do all of this, isn’t it wonderful?” A’whora mused, briefly philosophical before turning his attention back to the cake in his lap. He kept leaning over to offer Tayce some, despite being fully capable of getting his own slice, this felt better. He felt something in him flutter at the affection.

“Yeah, feels like we’re free now, we got on the show, we did it. Now we get to live our best lives with that experience,” Tayce agreed, and even though it amused him a bit to see A’whora become a suddenly philosophical drunk, he had a point.

“You did so well in the finale, I’m so proud of you.” A’whora turned to him, soft brown eyes shining with admiration. Tayce wanted to avoid the gaze, to avoid dealing with the emotions it brought but that was just his talent. He looked so genuine in the statement, Tayce had never needed someone else’s approval, though this felt different. It wasn’t in the same way people always said it. A’whora genuinely looked up to him, it was cute.

“It was fun, I think we all knew Bim or Lawrence was going to win, took a lot of pressure off of my shoulders.”

“You’re my winner.” He didn’t try to hide the tenderness in his voice. The brown-haired man stared at Tayce like he was the only person in the world. His smile melted Tayce down to his core, pulling down any walls to just focus on him, here and now.

“You’re such a softie.” Tayce’s voice was also tender, pulling the smaller man into his arms, as if he needed protecting from anything in the silent room.

It was at that point he noticed everyone had gone, that it was just him and A’whora in the room, so much space around them but unable to pull themselves apart.

He shifted in Tayce’s arms, turning to face him. His face morphed between a few things, at first neutral, then into a goofy smile before something more thoughtful, Tayce knowing the look all too well. He was going to ask something, possibly something Tayce didn’t want to answer and it would be hard to say no to those eyes.

“Tayce, why do you never talk about your feelings?”

There it was. The emotional drunk A’whora, wanting nothing more than to open himself up and have someone do the same in return. Tayce wasn’t closed off to the idea, though he hated to be pried open. It was his choice, and no matter how much he trusted A’whora, he wouldn’t be able to do it on demand.

“I do, just don’t spill my vulnerability because that’s not how I deal with it.”

“You know what I mean, you’re never fully open with me. LIke I’m always the one bearing my heart and you shut yours out even when it’s only us.” A’whora frowned, eyes falling to the ground. It looked like tears were starting to build up, Tayce not knowing if he had it in him to deal with emotional crying drunk A’whora while he was gone himself.

“I know you don’t like being vulnerable, but I can tell you have feelings. Wouldn’t it be easier if you admitted it? We could be happy, but you just want to hide that part away, like it’ll go away when it clearly hasn’t.” A’whora continued, not waiting for a response and cutting Tayce deep. He was speechless, he knew deep down they were both aware of it, but it hit differently to hear it said out loud. His face spoke for him, eyes wide and flickering everywhere that wasn’t his roommate. This wasn’t a conversation you had while drunk, but it seemed like he didn’t have much of a choice with A’whora’s persistence.

Tayce tried to formulate his response, to honestly tell A’whora about his fears, not wanting to ruin the strong friendship they had and not feeling like a relationship would be good. It could work, they both knew it. They got along so well; they had amazing chemistry. The only thing stopping them was the hesitance.

The only thing stopping them was Tayce.

Maybe he should stop getting in his own way, and let himself try something outside of his comfort zone. Relationships were the one no-go in his life but why did they have to be? He didn’t have to be powerless at the idea. A’whora deserved better. So he kissed him, not waiting to think it through. A’whora was startled at first, but returned it enthusiastically, his arm snaking its way around Tayce’s shoulder to pull him in ever so closer.

They fell apart, trying to catch their breath as Tayce noticed the blush on A’whora’s face.

“Are you blushing? You give me this whole speech and you’re taken aback when I do something about it? You’re adorable.” Tayce’s face lit up, poking A’whora’s cheek and delighting in how flustered he looked.

“I’m not! The alcohol is making my body warm, you hound!” He futilely protested, blushing further as Tayce snuck closer, hand placed firmly on his chest to feel his racing heart.

“You’re an awful liar, it’s cute.”

A’whora jokingly shoved him, hiding his face in his hands as if it would help the situation.

“So do you want to do something about it? You were all talk last night, back it up, Georgie.”

If A’whora had anything left in him, it fled his body at that. He was left like a statue frozen at Tayce’s sudden shift. He could only lean into his hands as one cupped his face, pulling him into a more desperate kiss. Tayce wanted him, and he would let him have everything.

#taywhora #tayce x a'whora #canon compliant #rpdr fanfiction

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

Prince Nuada x Mischievous!Reader

(Requested by @athenacross27 : If I may have a Nuada x reader where reader is Hellboy's younger adopted sister and she likes to be mischievous to hide her fear maybe like a trauma? She teases Nuada allot but one day after a hard mission she hides and has an anxiety attack and Nuada finds her, confesses and fluff! Maybe implied smut in a funny way just to make it fun 😁)

(A/N): I had a lot of fun writing the story for this request and I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: Talk of mental illness, loss of a loved one and implied smut.

It has been months since his defeat against the Hellspawn they call "Hellboy". When Nuada lost the challenge for the control over the holden army, Hellboy ha knocked him out of consciousness and when he woke up he found himself in the confinement of the human's organization that the demon served under. They all made it clear that if it wasn't for the link that bonded him to his sister Nuala's mind, body and soul, they would have killed him a long time ago. So instead they decided to keep him imprisoned until they see it is safe for him to roam around and maybe join them in missions. Nuada fought at first but seeing how much pain he brought to his sister with every escape attempt caused him to stop. After that, he decided to endure whatever the humans threw at him but he was not ready for the annoying human by the name (Y/n).

 Its as if it was her life purpose to drive him insane. The first time he learned her name was behind the iron doors, she would come to visit him almost every day just to taunt him, he tried to ignore her but it was impossible not to throw comments back at her. The day came when the humans trusted him enough to allow him the freedom to roam their base, aside from the group of human agents with their guns pointed at him his sister was there to greet him with a hug, which he returned.

"Aw, it's always touching to see family reunions."

Nuada's eyes widened at the voice. He scanned the humans, his eyes landed on a grinning girl standing beside Hellboy who was waving at him. Nuada pulled away from Nuala the pointed an accusation finger at her

 "You!"

 "Nice to finally meet you Sassy-pants."

 Her comment made the demon cackle. "Sassy-pants! That's a good one (Y/n)."

 "For the millionth time you wretched human, its Silverlance!"

 Nuada marched towards her with anger but was blocked by Hellboy.

 "Not a chance buddy, my little sister is off limits and if you dared to hurt her in any way you are dead."

 "Red!" exclaimed Abraham.

 "Ok!.. ok! Not dead just back to your room."

 ---

 After his release, you didn't leave his side always following him around to tease him. at first, it was you, him and Nuala but after a while, it was just the two of you. At the moment you were in the training room watching him as he swung a staff around with such elegance that made you drool every time you saw his muscles flix.

 "I thought the training room was meant for training, not ogling others."

 His words snapped you back to reality. Nuada didn't look at you as he said those words and kept training but you could see the hint of a smirk that crept on his face. You turned your head trying to hide your blush at being found out.

 "I was training Sassy-pants, I'm just taking a break."

 You could hear him stop to let out an annoyed sigh that made you smile. The time the two of you have spent together behind the doors and in person had brought you closer in some way, close enough that he doesn't even bother getting angry when you call him by that name, just annoyed.

 "Human, I have a question for you."

 "You want to take me to dinner?"

 "What?...No!" he said with a look of both disgust and embarrassment, which made you laugh.

 "What is your question princy?"

 "What is your true relation to the demon?"

 "My…brother?"

 "But you look nothing alike." He stated with a confused look.

 "Wait!... Did you think that we were blood-related?" You laughed. "And I thought you were smart!"

 He let out a groan of annoyance at you causing your laughter to die down but your smile is still there.

 "He is my adoptive older brother, we maybe were not born from the same blood but we were raised by each other's side."  You explained as a distant look crossed your eyes.

 "We were raised by the same man, who didn't care for what's in the surface but for what's in the heart."

 Just then images of your father flashed before your eyes. That night you were the one who found him, you were supposed to help him examine the body they brought back but he started before you, and when you finally came it was too late. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Another image invaded your mind and this time of Red being stabbed by Nuada in the heart, seeing him wince in pain every moment the silver piece went deeper and closer to his heart, how weak he became, how he almost died in Liz's arms. Your breathing has slowly become rapid.

 "(Y/n)!"

 You snapped your head up and was met with golden concerned eyes. Nuada was right in front of you, his staff long forgotten on the ground and his hands holding your shoulders to steady you for your legs felt weak. Noticing your surroundings more you saw how you were securely hugging yourself as your body shook slightly. Realizing what was just about to happen you quickly pushed Nuada away from you and started to walk away but the Elven prince was right behind you.

 "(Y/n)-"

 "I'm fine!" You said as you turned around to flash him a big smile. "I'm just tired from all the work today I think I will take a nap."

 Before Nuada could say anything you turned on your heels and started to march back to your room where you stayed there until the next day refusing to see anyone including Red.

 ---

 After a few months, the B.P.R.D. finally trusts him to go on missions as long as he is accompanied by Hellboy and Abraham. They didn't have a choice since The human named Elizabeth was pregnant therefore unable to join them, (Y/n) on the other hand had no problem.  From what he learned it wasn't her first mission and from what he saw in their joined time in the training room she could take care of herself pretty well.

 They were meant to investigate the disappearance of human children, thanks to Nuada's royal influence over a few elves they were able to find out that it was Baba-Yaga. In their search for her Hellboy suddenly disappeared. They couldn't reach him or locate his whereabouts. Nuada noticed how (Y/n) seemed composed as she barked orders at everyone to search for him. After hours of searching and waiting Hellboy finally returns with a confident grin as he told them of how he killed Baba-Yaga. (Y/n) tackled him with a hug then proceeded to yell at him their entire way back to headquarters on how reckless he was. She might have been the younger sister but it was clear she was in charge.

 After giving their report everyone went back to their rooms. Nuada, however, couldn't sleep. he made his way towards (Y/n)'s room feeling that something is wrong. Before he could knock on the door he could hear the muffled sounds of crying, panicking he reached for the handle and slowly opened the door. When he peeked in he saw leaning against the wall, your skin was red, tears running down your eyes, you clenched your side as you struggled to breathe, you tried to say something but your words made no sense. Wasting no time, Nuada hurried to your side and ever so gently placed a hand on your shoulder, you flinched at his touch and looked up to him.

 "Shhh…It's alright I'm here."

 "N... Nua-" you struggled to say his name. carefully Nuada led you to your bed and sat you down.

 "You can control it (Y/n), just try to breathe from your abdomen, not your chest." You struggled to follow.

 "What do you feel?" he asked as he placed his hand on your cheek.

 "I..I fe...I feel ..y..y..your hand."

 "That's good, what else do you feel?" He then took your hand and placed it on his cheek.

 "C..Cold…i..i can..i can feel..your scars."

 "And here what do you feel?"

 He took your hand and intertwined it with his own. Your rapid breath started to slow down as you looked down at your hand with his, you stroked his hand with your thump.

 "R..Roughness…your…your hands..are rough."

 Both of you stayed like this and after a few minutes, Nuada was able to calm you down. you were held comfortably in his arms, even though you were now fine he refused to let you go.

 "When did it start to happen?" he asked breaking the silence, you bit your lip afraid to answer.

 "I… I think I always had it but got worst after…my father's death."

 "What do you humans call it?"

 "…..Anxiety attack…"

 "Hmmm… and what caused it this time?" He asked straight forward which almost made you laugh at how blunt Nuada can be. You took a deep breath before answering.

 "When Red suddenly disappeared… I was afraid that I was going to lose him too."

 You could feel Nuada's hold on you tighten, he wrapped his arm around your waist and brought you closer to him. the both of you were so close you could bury your face in the crook of his neck if you wanted to, but didn’t and only rested your head on his shoulder, though his scent that was like the forest still reached you and it helped you calm more.

 "I doubt that he would die that easily, I believe he is the kind that is too stupid it can't even die."

 "Don't say that he is still my brother!"

 You hit his chest playfully but couldn't help the smile that spread on your face as the two of you shared a laugh. You felt one of his hands started to massage your scalp, which soothed you further.

 "Hellboy, will not die on you, he cares for you too much."

 "….I just don't want to be alone in this world."

 "You are not alone." He assured you. "For I shall always stand here by your side."

 You felt your heart skip a beat at his words and you were sure that your face was growing red from embarrassment, you can’t deny your feelings for him but you still didn't want to seem weak so you looked up to him and flashed a grin.

 "What are you in love with me or something?" you tried to tease him but froze in your place as you felt him lean forward to you his face dangerously close to yours.

 "And what if I was?"

 His lips then gently pressed to yours, you felt your entire body tense before you melted into his arms. When he was about to pull away from you you leaned forward to kiss him back not yet having enough of him which he was surprised to at first but was a pleasant one as he wrapped his arms around you to keep you pressed against him, your kiss turned from gentle to passionate. When the two of you pulled away from each other you were panting, you tried to pull your body away from his but his grip on you became possessive refusing to let you leave his hold. You bit your lower lip when you saw the look of pure lust in his eyes, and you would be lying if you didn't feel the same.

 "You know its kind of late to go back to your room." You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces so close your noses could touch. "Would you like to stay the night?"

 His response to you was a smirk before he pushed you down as you let out a series of giggles.

 ---

 "Where is (Y/n)?" Abe asked as he joined Nuala and Liz to breakfast. Liz shrugged.

 "It's usually her that is at the table first but we didn't find her, so Red went to check on her."

 Abe nodded understanding, (Y/n) wasn't very well after yesterday's mission. He then turned to Nuala.

 "What about Nuada?"

 "I haven’t seen my brother this morning either."

 "Maybe slept in?" Said Liz.

 "I'm not sure he never misses training in the morning."

 Their conversation was cut short when they saw different agents run to the Cafeteria doors, which confused the three. Abe caught the attention of one of the agents stopping him.

 "Excuse me but what is going on?"

 "Is there a mission?" Liz asked confused that the sirens didn't go off. The agent shook his head.

 "Hellboy is chasing Prince Nuada through the building with a gun trying to shoot him down."

 "WHAT?" The three exclaimed.

 "NUADA!"

 They all turned their head and none was ready for the sight that greeted them. A shirtless Nuada was running away from a VERY angry Hellboy with his giant gun. Nuada ran towards them only to jump over their heads saying "Excuse me." Then he continued to run to the other exit. Liz not wanting her lover to get into trouble stood up and blocked his path, forcing him to stop.

 "What are you doing Red? If you keep acting like that Manning will get angry with you…Again!"

 Red pointed his stone finger at the Elven Prince.

 "That fucker slept with my little sister!"

 He said before moving around Liz to catch up to Nuada. Abe and Liz were both shocked at what they just heard except for Nuala who was laughing.

 "That explains what I felt last night."

---

I hope you enjoyed the story and if you did don’t be afraid to request.

#prince nuada #prince nuada x reader #nuada x reader #hellboy the golden army #hellboy 2 the golden army