#the grassy area by the school is nice but it’s So Far Away and also the park next to it is deeply questionable

[retrievablememories]

U.N.I. | doyoung (m)

title: college love pairing: doyoung x black!reader genre: fluff, smut, college!au request: There’s suddenly a foreigner in his class (University of course). He teases her and always seems to stick to her side. The kick is, is that she finds out he likes her by eavesdropping [I wanted to give you room to flex that brain of yours bc your writing is like magic] word count: 6.3k warnings: emetophobia warning, alcohol use, sub!doyoung, handjob, oral (female receiving...and a little bit male receiving?), thigh riding a/n: shout out to anon for the new title idea cuz i be struggling lmaoo

Doyoung is curious. 

You are new to his class, having joined a couple weeks after the semester had already begun. You’re certainly not the first foreigner he’s seen, considering that the university is an international school that sees a wealth of students from other countries every year.

But still. He’s curious.

You both sit in the same row, with you a few seats down from him. That makes it harder for him to sneak glances over at you without being too obvious or receiving weird looks from the other students who think he’s staring at them. Mostly, he contents himself with hearing your voice when you answer questions or occasionally talk to your other classmates.

Doyoung tries to think about how he might also get to talk to you without seeming weird or too random, which makes him feel even sillier because he usually doesn’t have this much anxiety over talking to new people. However, he doesn’t have to ponder over it for much longer when the professor decides to split each row into groups for an in-class assignment.

You and him and three other people from your row gather together in a circle, and there are a few awkward introductions—as is the norm with classmates who haven’t truly interacted with each other before.

“I’m Y/N,”  you introduce yourself, glancing at the others sitting across from you.

They nod in acknowledgement, and Doyoung responds with, “It’s nice to meet you.” He makes sure to give his best welcoming smile, which you return.

Despite all five of you being in the same group, it soon becomes apparent that Doyoung is the best ally to have on your team. The other three students couldn’t be less motivated about the assignment if they tried, mostly gleaning answers off the two of you.

By the time the period ends, you are more than ready to get the hell out and go to your next class. You can only roll your eyes at knowing they’ll get credit for work they barely even helped with. However, your bad mood is momentarily interrupted by your only other partner who bothered to help—Doyoung.

“Thanks for that,” he says as you pass by his desk. You stop and turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You know, for...that.” Doyoung shoots an icy look towards the other people in your row. Only one of them meets his eyes, though they pointedly try to pretend like they never saw him as they gather their things and leave.

You watch the awkward exchange and can’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah, no problem. It’s nice to have someone who actually cares enough to help.”

Doyoung instantly thinks your laugh is pretty, and he decides he wants to hear more of it.

“You know, if you ever want to work together again, I’m here,” he suggests. “I mean...you’re new here, right? So if you need any help with anything...just ask.”

You smile, grateful for the offer. “Oh really? That’s nice of you. I might just have to take you up on it...because I really don’t know a soul here.” You check your phone. “Shit, I should be getting to my next class. See you later. Thanks again!”

Doyoung waves as you leave the classroom, wanting to say more but knowing you’re busy, and he hopes that you really do consider his offer.

The next class doesn’t involve groups this time, much to your relief—and Doyoung’s as well. Doyoung still finds a way to talk to you without having to do group work, though; and the best part about it is that he doesn’t even have to do anything.

“Hey Doyoung,” you say, coming to stand by his desk at the end of class. He perks up in his seat at your presence, giving you an amiable smile.

“Hey Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m fine, though I do feel a little lost at the moment.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows draw together. “What’s the matter?”

You laugh and shake your head, a little embarrassed to tell him. “Okay, like, I have a map of the campus and everything, but I keep getting lost trying to go to classes and it’s kind of annoying...plus I don’t need a bunch of tardies in my first month here.”

“Your professors still care about that kind of stuff?”

“Yep. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any of the cool ones who don’t give a fuck about someone coming in late—for a class I’m paying for. Amazing.”

Doyoung smirks. “So you need a tour guide, is that it?”

You shrug. “If you’re up for it. I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, you know, if you’re busy. This campus is unnecessarily huge.”

Doyoung gathers his bag and stands to his feet. “Of course I can help the damsel in distress.”

“Damsel, huh?” You snort. “What’re you then, a knight in shining armor?”

“I can be if you want me to be.”

“You a comedian or something?” You give him a look between incredulity and amusement, a bit surprised at him being so brazen. “Let’s go then, brave knight. Help me find out where the Student Affairs office is before I completely lose my mind.”

Just as you asked, Doyoung leads you right to the Student Affairs office—and to a bunch of other places on campus, which you’re not entirely sure you’re going to remember. At least you have him to walk you through it until you memorize everything. 

Finally, you both stop in a grassy area of campus with a few benches nearby, standing under the shade of a tree. Doyoung turns to you. “I’ve dragged you all over this campus now, so I guess the least I could do is buy you a coffee or something.”

“You did it because I asked! But...if you’re determined to pay, I won’t stop you.” You laugh.

“Do you remember where the coffee shop is?” Doyoung asks, like he’s a professor giving you a pop quiz. You sweat because you’ve already forgotten, and you screw your face up in mock concentration.

“Umm...that way?” You point in a random direction and he chuckles when it’s wrong. He grabs your arm and guides it to the right direction, which is behind you—right in the area you just came from.

“No, it’s here! Let’s go. We’re gonna need to spend some more time out here later.”

By the end of the day, you’re surprised by how comfortable you already feel around Doyoung despite only talking to him for the first time in your group assignment the other day. He appears to think the same of you, if him sliding you his number is any indication.

“I know we have a class together, but if you want to talk outside of that…you know where to reach me now.” He taps his fingers against the table you’re both sitting at. “I think you’ll definitely be needing another tour soon.”

“I tried my best.” You sigh dramatically, placing your chin in your hand. “But thanks. I’ve got your number now, so don’t feel a way if you see me bothering you more often.” You flash him a teasing grin.

Doyoung shakes his head goodnaturedly at your statement, taking another sip of his coffee. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll mind.”

Though you do call on Doyoung to help you get around campus a few more times, he ends up hanging around you a lot more often outside the guise of being your personal tour guide.

Whether it’s to go to the library, visit a fast food place off campus, or even see some sports game, he’s never far away. During your first month of being at school, he’d simply explained it as wanting you to get familiar with the sights in and around campus so you wouldn’t get lost again. However, it quickly culminates in him randomly asking you to go places just because he can—and because he wants to.

You’re glad for his company—much more than you’d let him know, not wanting to come off as too clingy. Though Doyoung seems like the type to be all about his studies—which he mostly is, and it’s not a bad thing—he also knows how to have fun and how to make you laugh, even explaining jokes in Korean that go over your head. 

He makes you feel remarkably less alone while adjusting to living in another country, far away from home. It also doesn’t take you long to find out that he’s good for teasing you to no end, which often makes you want to roll your eyes or flick him in the forehead, but even his banter reminds you of your friends back home. You’re incredibly grateful for that small piece of familiarity.

After a couple months of finally settling into the campus life, you, Doyoung, and a few of his friends decide to go to a frat house party, along with Seulgi—a girl you’re becoming close to in another one of your classes. You’re not entirely sure what to anticipate, but the experience is quite similar to what you’d expect to see back in your home country—the same drunk dancing, endless shots of alcohol, loud music, and men who are far too grabby for their own good.

Speaking of that last point…

You and Seulgi dance together amongst a flood of bodies, which is fun for a while until random men keep trying to drag you away from each other to dance with them instead; some of them are more agitated than others about being rejected.

“College guys are dangerously horny.” Seulgi laughs, though she also cuts her eyes at a small group of men nearby who’re giving you both ravenous looks.

“Kinda wish they’d go be horny somewhere else,” you say, and then you roll your eyes when yet another hand brushes against your waist. You turn to see who the culprit is this time, but it’s only Doyoung, and you’re palpably relieved to see him. “You’re back! Seems like you’d disappeared forever.”

“Yes, I am. Someone’s excited. Did you miss me that bad?” He smirks.

“Oh, please. I’m just happy you’re here so the creeps will go away.”

When you say this, his expression instantly morphs into one of recognizable concern. “Is someone bothering you two?”

“Not really, these dudes are just weirdly pushy.” Seulgi giggles, trying to wave it off. The last thing you all need is to start an argument or a full-out fight with one of these frat guys.

“Forreal. Therefore, you should act like you’re my boyfriend until the night is over.” You declare this unabashedly, linking your arm with Doyoung’s. For a second, he seems flustered at your suggestion, and then his face settles back into the same cool countenance as before.

“Fine, since you want to be next to me so much.” You elbow him at that. “That’s a good save for you, but what about Seulgi?” Doyoung asks, looking at the other girl. She is unbothered, though, and casually grabs his other arm.

“Poly relationship. Ever heard of it?” Now he really is flustered, and you laugh out loud at his expression.

You spend a good portion of the night like that, all three of you linked together as the perfect “throuple,” with some people at the party giving you interesting looks. When Johnny sees you all, he throws you and Doyoung an expression reminiscent of a grin—but somehow more devious—and Doyoung only twists his mouth up in a sneer. You don’t know what any of that interaction means, though it makes you wonder.

Seulgi eventually decides she prefers Johnny to be her fake boyfriend instead of Doyoung and goes off with him to do...whatever it is they went to do. You’re sure you can take a guess, though.

After the other two take their leave, you and Doyoung eventually end up on the back porch. It’s a little cooler out here than it is inside, though still a bit crowded with lingering couples and groups. You’re both bunched up in a small corner against the side of the house, leaning over the railing to look out at the backyard—which is mostly just trees and bushes.

“Well, how are you enjoying your first college party?” he asks, casting a questioning glance your way.

“It’s fun. I think I could see why some people end up spending all their time on this instead of studying, ha.”

“Hey, don’t become a party girl ‘cause I’m not gonna do all your homework for you.” Doyoung snickers.

“Oh, Doyoung. I wouldn’t expect you to, you’re not even good at science.”

He sucks his teeth and tucks his chin into his arms to hide the grin playing across his face. It’s quiet again for a little while, or as quiet as it can be with the others on the porch talking and laughing.

Doyoung peeks at you from underneath his fringe and thinks about what he should say next. Something like...not that, but…well, what if he did? Would it be terrible if he said it now, right here at a crowded frat party on some rickety back porch? Maybe, but…

Doyoung pushes himself off the railing and looks at you, tracing your profile with his eyes. Maybe the alcohol has taken more effect on him than he initially thought. “Y/N…” he starts, and you glance at him.

Just then, a red-faced dude who’s obviously incredibly smashed stumbles over to where you two are and promptly throws up on the floor. Some of it gets on Doyoung’s shoes, which causes him to jump back and curse loudly.

“Are you a fucking idiot?!”

“That’s disgusting,” you groan, turning your face away from the mess. You’d probably laugh if it weren’t so gross—and wasn’t right next to where you were standing. The guy doesn’t pay either of you much attention, though, because he’s too busy slumping against the railing like he’s going to pass out. Maybe somebody should worry about that, but it won’t be either of you.

“Ugh, for fuck’s sake...come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and carefully steers you around the mess, heading back indoors and maneuvering through the thick of the party. You’re not sure where he’s going at first until you both end up in some cramped bathroom, with him pulling his shoes off and running them under the tub faucet. You lean against the door, feeling like you need to stand guard so no drunken couples will burst in, even though it’s already locked. You’re not quite sure why he brought you along for this little ride, but you’re not complaining; it’s better than being left outside.

You look at him sitting on the edge of the tub and angrily wiping his shoes as best he can with toilet paper, and you giggle, though you try to keep it quiet. However, you can’t stop more giggles from pouring out at his comically pissed-off expression. Doyoung looks up at you with his eyebrows creased, a confused and irritated look coloring his features. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head, unable to speak for a few moments. Doyoung tilts his head to the side and looks at you impatiently while you try to catch your breath, though his upset face only makes you want to laugh more. “I’m sorry, but from where I’m standing...th—this is pretty hilarious.” You burst out into laughter again. “I’m locked in a bathroom with you at a college party while you scrub vomit off your shoes. If this doesn’t make us friends for life, nothing will.”

To your surprise, he actually cracks a cynical grin after a few moments, shaking his head and sighing. His shoulders heave with the gesture. “I hate university sometimes.”

Doyoung tries not to think too deeply about that “friends for life” comment, though to his irritation, it stays in his head for days after the party. Even after he’s nearly forgotten about the shoe incident.

You go to the library one night to find an academic journal for an upcoming paper. You’re not happy about having to make the trek, especially in this digital era when everything imaginable is usually readily accessible online, but it is what it is.

At night, the library becomes more of a hangout spot rather than a place for studying, and you don’t entirely expect to get much reading done in there. You’re hoping there’s an empty room or something you can duck into to take some quick notes on the information you need.

Finding the journal takes a bit of searching, but you finally locate it on a shelf near the back of the library. You’re about to leave the aisle and find somewhere to read it when a couple of people walk into the aisle in front of yours. By their voices, you know it’s Doyoung and Johnny.

You decide to peek over and say hi, but before you can get to the end of the aisle, you hear their heated conversation. You stop in your tracks and listen, which you probably shouldn’t be doing; but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt this talk they’re having once you hear what they’re saying, either.

“You’re being ridiculous. Just tell her!” Johnny hisses under his breath like he wants to talk louder but doesn’t want to be too distracting in the library. Ever so courteous of him, but you doubt anyone else really cares at the moment.

“Hyung, not everybody is like you. It’s not easy to just go up to someone and say you like them.”

“You act as if you’re gonna be talking to a stranger. She knows you and you know her, you hang out all the time. It’s more likely that she does like you than she doesn’t.”

“...You really think that?”

“She lets you tell all your unfunny jokes without much complaint, so yeah, I’d say she must be head over heels for you.”

“Shut the hell up. Unfunny jokes? You’re one to talk!”

You listen to the conversation intently, wondering who this mystery girl Doyoung apparently likes could be. He’s never told you about having a crush on anyone, nor has he made it obvious that he likes someone else. Although you know he has other friends—Johnny’s obviously one of them—you’re not sure what girl he hangs out with all the time besides you.

Johnny chuckles. “Don’t be mad that Y/N laughs at my jokes more than yours.”

Your eyebrows raise at this. Wait. What does this conversation have to do with you? Unless.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to laugh at a clown,” Doyoung retorts.

“Whatever, Doyoung. You just do what I told you. It’s seriously so sad watching you pine over Y/N like there isn’t an easy solution for this.”

You’re reeling with shock by now, but their voices are also getting closer to the end of the aisle like they’re about to walk into the very one you’re hiding out in. You run away before they can spot you, though you do end up drawing a few peculiar glances from some other library goers.

You eventually find a quiet, uncrowded space to sit down and take notes in, though you can hardly concentrate on the work at hand with this new information in your mind. Doyoung likes you? Doyoung likes you. Then that must be why he always messes with you, and why he’s practically been glued to your side since you got there.

Your hand tightens and loosens around your pen repeatedly as you mull over this knowledge. The longer you think about it, though, a smirk grows on your face.

The week after, you and Doyoung have one of your regular study sessions together. You’ve dressed up for it more than you normally would—the same thing you’ve been doing throughout the week, too. Even if Doyoung doesn’t know what you know, you get a bit of fun out of dressing up to catch his eye. And it definitely works.

He always steals glances at you when he thinks you aren’t paying any attention, and you get infinite amusement out of whipping your head around to try to catch him in the act. The light blush on the tips of his ears and his startled bunny look is worth it every time.

“You got so dressed up just to study? You’ve really been going all out this week,” Doyoung comments as you sit down at your usual table in the library. He gives a small smirk as he scans your new outfit for today. He does this as if he’s only teasing and evaluating your clothes, puckering his lips in concentration, though it’s also an excuse to check you out.

“You could just say ‘you look so fucking fine this week, Y/N.’ I know you want to say it, anyway.” Doyoung’s cheeks flush a little, and he shakes his head.

“You’re something else. Okay, you look pretty. Does that satisfy you?”

“Well. You forgot the ‘fucking,’ but I’ll let it slide.”

You both get into your work and a calm quiet settles between you, punctuated with you occasionally asking each other questions about the assignment. At some point, you grow a little bored with staring at the text for so long, and you stop and simply look at Doyoung sitting across from you in one of his favorite hoodies and his glasses. Something tender rises in your chest, a sensation you hadn’t quite given a name to until now, and you put your cheek in your hand, grinning slightly.

“I wonder why someone like you doesn’t have a girlfriend yet.”

Doyoung looks up as if he’s not sure if you’re talking to him, then furrows his eyebrows. “Someone like me?”

“Aw, you know, you’re handsome and caring and smart, and you can even be a little bit funny—even though you get on my nerves sometimes.” Doyoung rolls his eyes at the last part, though you know he’s preening at your compliments.

“I don’t know, I’m busy with studies.”

“But isn’t there even one person you might like? Or might be interested in?” Doyoung’s not looking at you anymore, his eyes dropping back down to instead focus on his book, but you notice how his fingers tighten around the textbook’s edges.

“Um—well, I haven’t really thought about that…”

“Really? No one in your dorm or your classes has caught your eye?”

Doyoung shifts a little and clears his throat. He shakes his head in response to your question, though the movement is hesitant. “What about you?”

“Changing the subject, huh? Excellent method of evasion…” You flip a page in your notebook, pointedly avoiding Doyoung’s gaze even though he’s peering up at you again. You wait with your lips clamped together, trying not to laugh as his expression grows more impatient.

“Well?! Aren’t you going to answer, after forcing me to?”

“I will when you tell the truth.” You slap the notebook closed, which causes him to jump, and this time a laugh does slip out. Doyoung’s eyes dart around your small section of the library like there might be someone else listening, or like he’s searching for a prank camera.

“The truth about what? I already told you!”

“Then what about what you told Johnny?”

Doyoung freezes for a moment, and various emotions flit across his face. He finally settles firmly on embarrassment and disappointment. “...He told you? I’m going to kill him.” His voice is softer now, like he would disappear completely if he could.

“No, I—okay, don’t get mad at me, it’s not like I did it on purpose, but I heard you two talking in here a week ago…”

“Oh...shit. You—you were there? And you didn’t say anything?!”

“Yeah. Not very discreet, huh? Maybe you want to do that in your dorm room next time.” You’re still smiling. Doyoung shifts nervously again, as if he just wants to get up and run the hell out.

“So, um…you know, then.”

“Yep.”

“If you don’t like me, you can just say so,” Doyoung blurts out. “I...it’s fine. I don’t expect anything of you, so we can really just forget all about this. I promise I won’t make things weird, Y/N. I just...I just found myself really liking you as we got to know each other.”

“You can’t make things weird when you’re already weird.” You giggle and place your hand over Doyoung’s, grasping his fingers. “So...let’s date, then.”

He looks at you questioningly, surprise taking over. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“I’m serious.” And now you’re a little embarrassed yourself, but you continue, “Doyoung...I like you too. I guess I don’t totally hate all your teasing. But don’t get cocky about it.”

Doyoung rearranges your hands so your fingers are now laced together. A relieved smile makes a home on his lips. “Well, too late. Now you’re never going to hear the end of it.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.” Your response is sarcastic, but the smile on your face is totally genuine.

That weekend, Johnny leaves the dorm to go visit some of his other friends in town, which means Doyoung will have the room all to himself for those few days. Normally his plans would consist of studying, trying to catch up on sleep, or seeing what his other friends are up to, but with you as his new girlfriend, he wants to spend that time together.

“So, this is your dorm,” you say, holding Doyoung’s hand as he leads you into his shared dorm with Johnny.

“Home away from home, I guess,” he says, leading you over to his bed so you can sit down. Before he can let go of your hand, you tug him to you and gesture for him to bring his face closer to yours, like you’re going to whisper something to him.

“What is it?” he asks. He’s quickly silenced by you pushing your lips against his in a kiss. When you both separate, it’s reluctant, and Doyoung pecks your mouth once more before straightening up again. You laugh at the slightly goofy grin on his face.

“What should we do?” you ask, getting more comfortable on his bed and leaning against the wall.

“I had movies in mind, but we can do anything you want.”

“Movies are fine! Hurry and start it up, I’m gonna get cold without you beside me.”

Doyoung gives an overexaggerated cringe, and you hide your face. “And you complain about me being cheesy?!”

You both make it through two and a half movies before you start getting antsy with sitting in the same spot for so long. Doyoung is still lying calmly beside you, his arm around your shoulder and the other behind his head as he continues watching the movie. Deciding to act on a whim, you abandon all pretenses of watching any more of the movie and swing your legs over his own so you’re sitting in his lap. When you situate yourself in his lap, he seems a bit starstruck, as if he wasn’t expecting this to happen—like, ever.

“Y/N…” Doyoung’s voice is surprisingly soft, like the day you revealed your feelings for each other. It’s a noticeable departure from his usual demeanor. He blinks at you for a couple moments.

“What?” you say innocently, copying his actions and blinking back at him.

Doyoung swipes his tongue across his lips, though it’s more of a nervous gesture than anything else. “You’re...you know.”

You chuckle. “‘You know’? Let’s use our words.”

“You’re, uh...s-soft,” is what he stammers out, like it was the only thing he could think of at the last minute.

“And you should be hard, but you’re not yet. So let’s fix that. If you want to?” You quickly tack the last sentence on, trying to give him an out if he really doesn’t want this. However, the hands that suddenly go to your hips make you think otherwise.

“Do it, then.” He provokes you, trying to regain his usual confidence, though it still comes out less forceful than intended.

You bring your hand to his crotch and palm him over his pants, and Doyoung takes a deep breath. You bring your lips to his, kissing him deeply and adding to the pleasant feeling. He kisses you back eagerly, flexing his hands on your hips and gripping you more tightly. You end up making out like that for a little while, and he grows underneath your palm as you tease him.

Eventually, you want more than simply feeling him over his sweatpants and pull them down, exposing his bulge. You don’t touch him for real, not just yet; instead, you trace your finger along the shape of his dick underneath the material of his boxers. Doyoung whimpers against your lips at that touch, very quietly, but audible enough for you to hear it over the TV in the background.

“Don’t get all sensitive on me now.” You pull away from his mouth and laugh. “What happened to all that teasing you love to torture me with?” You drag his underwear down so you can release his member, which is still growing underneath your caresses. Precum is already beading at the tip, flushed with need. Doyoung looks down at your hand holding his dick and worries his lip as you begin stroking him earnestly now.

He leans his head back against the wall, and you watch his throat work as he swallows and tries to keep his sounds quiet. The soundproofing in these dorms certainly isn’t the best; the people on the other side of the wall have kept him awake enough nights to know that. The few moans he does let go are low and pretty and soft, and they fit him perfectly.

Though you are stroking him mostly for his own pleasure, you do take the time to explore his dick while you have it in your hand—running your finger over a vein that stands out against the hot skin, sliding his precum between your fingers and using it to get the rest of his shaft slick. You take your time with him, but he doesn’t seem to mind the leisurely pace.

“Do you wanna come in my hand?” you ask him, and his body tenses as you reach further down to tease his balls. Another bead of precum runs down his shaft.

“That would be a waste,” Doyoung huffs, and he shifts his leg a little so his thigh is tucked between your legs now, your heat pressing right down on him. He moves his thigh back and forth slowly across you, and you let out a long, shaky breath at the way the muscles of his leg flex and release against your clit.

“Then where do you wanna do it?” You still your movements on him for a few seconds but keep your thumb on his tip so you can tease the sensitive slit there, and another choked groan comes from him.

“T-take a guess,” he says, and pulls on your hips again so he can drag your pussy over his thigh more firmly. The friction makes you whine.

“Maybe I should just make you cum like this, since you seem more interested in making me ride your leg.” You go back to steadily stroking his cock, tightening your grip on him. His mouth drops open a little at your actions.

“Y/N,” he whispers breathlessly, and lifts one hand to pull at your sweater. “Take this off.”

“Then take yours off.” Doyoung strips his sweater off as soon as you say it and waits for you to do the same. His mouth goes to your breasts once they’re free. You grin at the pleasurable sensation and run your hand through his hair, pushing him closer to your chest. Your other hand goes back to his dick, and it twitches when you make contact. “I really think you could cum just like this, with you sucking my tits and me jerking you off. Wouldn’t you like that, Doie?”

Doyoung’s face flushes at that claim, though he doesn’t deny it. He simply keeps sucking at your nipples and leaving marks across your chest, flexing his thigh against you for added stimulation.

You want him to come first, so you spit in your hand for more lube and stroke him faster, the slick sound of your hand on his cock filling your ears. His moans are more frequent now, though he still tries to hide them; all the while, you try to pull more out of him. If the people next door know what’s going on, they’ll just have to enjoy the free entertainment.

“Y/N,” he pants against your skin, and his body tenses up more underneath you. You pull his head away from your chest so you can tuck your face into his neck, placing your lips over his beating pulse and feeling the way his muscles jump under the slight touch of your mouth.

“You don’t wanna come in my hand, right? Where do you want it, then?” You keep your lips close to his ear and slow your pace to make sure he doesn’t come too soon.

“I…um—”

“Don’t be shy now, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” You twist your hand over his tip and he groans low in his throat; the sound vibrates across your lips.

“I...in your mouth.”

You sit back to look at him, grinning devilishly. “So that’s what you like? Fine then, baby boy.” You remove yourself from his thigh, which is noticeably damp now, and position yourself between his legs with the tip of his cock pointed towards your mouth. You lean forward a bit to take the head between your lips, rubbing your tongue against the sensitive underside of it, and Doyoung comes quick with a soft cry. His cum floods over your tongue in thick, salty waves, and you keep sucking the tip until he has no more to give.

You get back onto the bed after you’ve swallowed everything, and before you know what’s happening, Doyoung has turned you on your stomach and is pulling your panties and sweatpants down in one fell swoop. “Doyoung—” Your sentence breaks when he lifts your hips up and his tongue parts your lower lips, sliding through the slickness and pushing into your hole. Your words melt into a moan as you arch your hips more to get closer to his face.

“Doyoung, y-yes, please—” You curl your fingers in the fabric of his comforter, panting harshly against the material as Doyoung dips his fingers and tongue into you like he’s starving. His tongue on your clit is maddening, circling back and forth and making your legs shake as you try to balance yourself in this position he’s tugged you into.

His fingers find what they’re looking for quickly and he teases your g-spot, thrusting into it only sometimes and leaving you wanting all the other times. In the very back of your mind, you wonder if what he said about being too studious for relationships is true, because how else would he have learned to do all this? God.

When you get close to coming, Doyoung takes some mercy on you and crooks his fingers into that soft spot more consistently now, and you cry out as you tighten around his fingers. It’s beautifully, wonderfully satisfying. The soft sounds he releases while he eats you out make you even weaker, as if he can’t hide just how turned on he is from tasting you.

Your climax hits you suddenly, and by the end of it you are laughing softly with the intoxication of how good you feel, how good he’s made you feel. When he finally pulls back from you, you let your body fully collapse against the small mattress, and Doyoung rests his head against your thigh momentarily, as if he himself is exhausted.

“I...wanted to do that for a while,” he says, and you can’t see his face but you think he must be blushing, with how sheepishly he admitted it.

It takes a bit of shuffling but you eventually end up lying side by side, stripped bare and looking up at the ceiling. The movie has long gone off, and there’s nothing but Netflix’s slideshow of new shows and movies playing on the screen now.

After a few more moments of nothing but the sound of heavy breaths, you say, “We are having round two, like right now.” 

“You’re already addicted to me, huh?” Doyoung chuckles, dragging his knuckles over your side and making your skin tingle. You smirk and throw your leg over him, and he groans at how your pussy slides over his hardening length.

“By the end of the night, you won’t be able to get enough of me.”

#doyoung smut #doyoung fluff #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung fic #nct fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fluff #ambw #ambw scenarios #ambw smut #ambw fluff #ambw imagines #ambw fic #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines

[nightshade-minho]

-Nightmare- (12)

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, alcohol, violence is alluded to.

Wc: 3.8k

(Note: The song Y/n plays on her guitar is Sweet Night by V. I highly recommend listening to it for added ~feels~)

(Also- I can’t English hhhh. I apologize for the grammatical mistakes I make sometimes~)

Minho was woken up by your squirming. He looked down at you, eyes scrunched and frowning as you clutched his shirt tightly, and realized you were having another nightmare.

“Y/n...” He hesitated, kissing the top of your head and stroking it. “Shh, it’s okay...” He hugged you tighter, gently squeezing your shoulder. You opened your eyes as he did so, sweating and blinking rapidly, looking up at him with a confused expression.

“How did we...Where’s J-” You squinted, sitting up and slightly pulling away from Minho as you heard the doorbell ring.

“Fuck, it’s Juyeon...” You glanced at Minho, making a sound of frustration as you stood up.

“Oh. Why’s he here now...? Oh wait, never mind, I forgot.” He grimaced, sitting up a little and moving the blanket to the side. 

“Maybe you should go hide or something...”

“Why the fuck should I hide? It’s not like you cheated on him with me or anything. Besides, need I remind you that this is my apartment as well?”

“So...you’re staying here?”

“Yup. I’ll get my things from Chan’s again. I obviously wasn’t planning on staying at Chan’s forever.”

You sighed. “Right.” You walked over to the door, running your hands through your hair and opening it.

“Baby!” He grinned widely, quickly pulling you in his arms.

“J-juyeon...can’t breathe-”

You giggled as he let you go, hesitating before kissing your cheek and walking in.

“Told you I’d be back early morn-” He stopped, frowning as he saw Minho on the couch, scrolling through his phone lazily. 

“Why’s he here?” He asked, his voice calm.

“Dude. I live here.” Minho rolled his eyes, not looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, but I thought...”

“Y/n and I made up yesterday. Congratulations, by the way! Treat her well, or else.”

Juyeon rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

You looked between the two, stuttering as you excused yourself, going to your room to brush your teeth.

Minho waited for you to leave before glaring at the man. “I heard that.” He sneered.

“Good.”

There was a silence for a while as Minho sighed, remembering what he’d promised himself yesterday. He set his phone down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Juyeon raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“I don’t know, everything. I’m trying to make myself a better person...and I wanna acknowledge that I’ve hurt people.”

“That’s...nice of you. Why, though?”

“Well...” he trailed off, groaning as he gripped his thigh tighter. “I just want to...I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Yeah well, I just want to tell you something. Apologies are nice and all, but Y/n’s mine now, okay? You living here again is fine, but...I didn’t spend all this time pining after her to lose her to an asshole like you. So don’t even try taking her from me.” He snapped.

Minho scoffed, laughing. “What makes you think I would want to do that?”

“Chan told me you’re in love with her.”

Fuck. 

“He did? Huh. Well it’s a lie. I don’t have feelings for her, she’s just my best friend and roommate.”

“Okay. If you say so. I saw the way you ran after her that night, though. I mean, if you didn’t care, or had zero feelings, you wouldn’t have done that.”

“Are you dumb? Of course I....care about her. You can’t be best friends with someone for sixteen years and not care about them.”

“Yeah okay, whatever.”

He groaned. “Look, Juyeon, I don’t want to have any tension between us. For real, I’m not trying to steal your girl.” God, that hurt to say. “Look, if you’re going to be my best friend’s boyfriend, we should get along. I assume you’re going to come over a lot, so...we need to be civil to each other, okay? For her.”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure. For her.” He said, just as you finished getting ready, returning to the living room.

Juyeon’s frown quickly melted into a smile as he turned from Minho to you, standing up and holding his hand out. You took his hand, glancing at Minho’s neutral expression.

“Hey, if you wanted to walk with us, we don’t mind...”

He rolled his eyes. “Nah, it’s okay. You go ahead. My classes don’t start until later, anyway.”

“Okay.” You gave him a smile which he reciprocated, waving to him as you left.

Minho sighed, smile dropping instantly as the door closed, getting up to go to his room. God, he missed it. He pulled off his shirt, hating the way your scent was still clinging to it. Collapsing onto his bed, he clutched at the bed sheets tightly, trying to control and retain all the burning anger and dejection he was feeling. His heart had been twisting when he’d seen Juyeon hold your hand...and you laughing as he kissed your cheek. 

It had barely been a day, and the green-eyed monster inside him was already on a rampage, making him breathe shakily as he tried to banish the thoughts. 

He didn’t know if he could do this for much longer.

***

Minho was envious and possessive. He couldn’t deny that he had those traits in abundance.

He’d been possessive ever since the two of you were young. Seeing you talk and get friendly with people who weren’t him always made him queasy...sometimes, he’d even go to the extent of purposely sabotaging your other friendships. He stopped doing that when middle school started, but try as hard as he could, he never did get rid of that feeling of ardent jealousy.

He was afraid that one day, you would finally realize that he wasn’t good enough for you. For anyone. His father constantly reminded him of that fact, after all.

He really didn’t want you to leave him.

When he first met you, he was entranced with your wide, innocent eyes and the way you looked so happy and pure. Despite being so young, Minho didn’t have an ounce of innocence left in him. He’d been forced to grow up all too fast...

Minho saw in you the kind of person he wanted himself to be. He liked coming over to your house, too. Your family was always so sweet and accommodating...the complete opposite of his. The more time he spent with you, the less he dwelled on his own fucked up life.

He liked all the sleepovers, especially. He would sleep at the foot of your bed in a sleeping bag, the two of you still talking late into the night. The first time he’d stayed the night at your house, he’d fallen asleep quickly for the first time in his life. Your soft snoring had calmed him, a welcome change from the sounds of glass breaking, the angry shouts that he’d gotten used to back home. 

Sometimes, you’d dangle your arm off the side of the bed and he’d hold it, the feeling of your warm hand in his making him even calmer. 

Your bedroom was where you hung out until middle school started. After that, the two of you found another place to call your own, a place that was special to the two of you.

You were the one who’d discovered it, one day before school as you waited for Minho to come pick you up from your house, so the two of you could walk together to school. He’d been taking slightly longer than usual this time, so you decided to take a walk to the lake near your house. There had been a few water poppies you’d spotted last time you were there, and you wanted to pick some.

You squinted at the grass near the lake, frowning as you couldn’t find any that weren’t smushed- a dog must have trampled all over them. You walked along the length of the lake, trying to find ones that were intact, when you noticed the big willow tree that was right across the bend. 

You were surprised, because you hadn’t seen such a big tree before- but then neither had you walked this far.

When you walked back, Minho had a worried expression on your face as he saw you.

“There you are! Oh god, i was going to call your mom-”

“Come on, I wanna show you something!” You grabbed his hand, not caring that you were late as you tugged him along, taking you to the grassy area, and pointing at the big tree.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful...”

“It really is, isn’t it?”

Since then, you met there every day after school, under the shade of the tree. It became your little haven, a place where you told each other secrets, and laughed at things your fellow students would do.

One day though, as you laid your head on Minho’s thigh, your hands occupied with making a daisy chain, he sighed, voice shaky as he spoke.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m going to end up like my father.”

You looked up at that, frowning at him.

“You won’t. You’re a good person, Minho.”

“I don’t know. It’s in my genes after all, isn’t it?”

“People aren’t always exactly like their parents. Don’t put yourself down. You, Lee Minho, are amazeballs.”

He giggled, pinching your nose and cringing at the 13 year old lingo. 

“Amazeballs?”

You laughed. “Shut up. You know what I mean. Kind, cool, strong, funny...”

His gaze softened as he looked down at you. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” You sat up, facing him and taking his hand in yours. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. I won’t pretend to understand. From what you’ve told me though, I know you’re nothing like him. You’ve always been there for me, Minho, always been someone I can lean on.”

He sighed, nodding. “Yeah. But that’s only because you’re my best friend. I’m not this nice to others. You know that.”

“Not everyone can be nice all the time, you know? That sounds tiring. And to be honest, not every one deserves people being nice to them.”

“That’s true...how do you do this? Manage to cheer me up, always? You’re so...perfect.”

“Me? Perfect? Shut up. You know I’m far from it, Minho.”

“To me, you are.”

You stuck your tongue out at the cheesy comment, erupting into a fit of giggles as Minho pulled you close, his hands tickling your sides.

He finally stopped after multiple protests from you, smiling down at your breathless form. 

You hummed. “I know you can’t really call the place you live home...so can we be each other’s home?”

His smile grew wider.

“Yes, we can.”

You made him feel special, worthwhile. You saw the good in him that he couldn’t see, no matter how hard he tried. 

A while after he graduated from high school though, he came home one day to an empty house. A few minutes later, he received a call from the hospital that his mother had been admitted under critical care and that his father was being detained by the police.

He realized you were wrong. He definitely wasn’t any of those fucking things you said he was. He wasn’t there for his mother when she needed him. He’d let that monster act according to his wishes. 

He slowly decided to stop caring. His college life would be different from the one he’d led so far. After all, what was the point in trying? People don’t change. Being vulnerable never ended up getting you anywhere, and his own home life was evidence enough. You wouldn’t have wanted him to give up, but he always knew he’d let you down sooner or later.

***

When Minho woke up, he noticed it was already dark. It was about 6:00. He’d missed his classes, but he didn’t really care.

He sighed and slipped off the bed, rubbing his eyes as he pushed open his door.

You were sitting on the sofa, humming as you mindlessly strummed your guitar like you usually did, whenever you were nervous or sad.

He came forward, sitting on the couch with some distance between you. You looked up as you saw him, giving him a small smile. “I thought you still weren’t back.”

“I slept all day...missed my classes.”

You nodded, turning back to your guitar.

“Where is he?”

“Juyeon? He left a while ago. He had plans.” 

“Ah.”

There was more silence as Minho thought of what to say next, leaning back and watching you as you slowly started playing a small tune that sounded familiar, but one which he couldn’t quite place. Your humming slowly turned into singing, softly pronouncing each word.

Minho felt his heart pounding as he closed his eyes like he always did when you sang, preferring to focus on your voice without any distractions. As the song came to a close, he realized he head tears pricking his eyes. The lyrics hit too close to home.

He opened his eyes, staring at you. “Did...did you write that song?” He asked slowly.

“No...I really like it, though...”

“Yeah, m-me too.” He gulped.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Every part of him was screaming, telling him to man up and confess already. You’d confirmed that you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. If he didn’t say anything, he would burst.

“Y/n, I...”

You looked up at him. “Hm?”

“I...”

It was so hard. Why was it so hard to just spit out those words? He felt so frustrated with himself.

He shifted closer to you. Maybe if he couldn’t say it...he could show it instead.

Your eyes widened as he came closer, his eyes wet as he gently touched your cheek, leaning in further.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Shh...”

His lips brushed against yours. You felt sparks shooting through you despite the minimal touch, warning signals going off in your brain.

You pushed him away before he could deepen the kiss any further, feeling so utterly heartbroken that you could barely breathe.

“Stop- just s-stop.” You cried, rubbing at your eyes and standing up, glaring down at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He frowned, confused. “I...I was just trying to-”

“Shut up. I’m so sick of you. Why are you doing this to me? Why do you keep trying to kiss me, why do you look at me like....like that sometimes? I don’t understand how you feel about me, I don’t know if you even think before doing shit like this-”

“Y/n, it’s not-”

“No. Please. Stop talking. Stop the excuses. Do you care about me? What do you feel? Cause I don’t understand.” You scoffed shakily, running a hand through your hair and staring at the ceiling. 

“We had sex. Was there really nothing behind it? Was I just another girl for your fucking bed? Or do you...do you feel anything for me?” 

You swallowed, looking at his dumbstruck face and panting.

He stayed silent, his face passive as he took in your words. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Answer me...please, Minho. I’m...I’m begging you.” 

He swallowed, his hands folded in his lap.

Come on Minho. This is your chance.

“Well?”

I’m in love with you.

I think I always have been.

Please don’t leave me.

He stayed silent. 

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”

Glaring at him, you left for your room and slammed the door behind you. 

***

You lay in your bed, fingers playing with your hair-tie as you lost yourself in your thoughts. God, love was a shitty feeling. All the movies and books described it as something beautiful, tender and soft.

In reality, love was painful. It felt like needles were poking your heart every time you saw his face, remembering all the happy memories you’d made with him. Memories that were now tainted. 

You picked up your phone as it rang, sighing as you realized who it was.

“Hi.”

“Hello, baby! I’m so sorry I couldn’t call earlier. I have a night shift so I’ll be late, but I hope today I can finally stay over?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

“Yay! We can have our own little sleepover.”

You laughed softly, rubbing the remaining tears away and sitting up a little. “Okay. I’m looking forward to it!”

“Hehe, see you later, sweetheart.”

You sighed and let the phone fall from your hands as you slipped further down the bed, smushing your face in the pillow and trying to get a moment’s peace. You got rid of all the thoughts in your head, choosing to replace them with emptiness for a while.

***

A few hours later you were woken up with a gentle shove. You opened your eyes sleepily, turning around and smiling. 

“Ah. You’re here.”

“Uh huh. You okay?” Juyeon frowned, taking note of the dried tear stains on your face. You nodded, blinking as you sat up. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” He held up his laptop, smiling widely and getting into the bed next to you.

“I’ve downloaded a bunch of movies for us to watch together.”

“Ah.” You mumbled, smiling slowly and yawning. “That’s nice.”

He sighed, seeing your expression and putting the laptop aside. “You seem sleepy. I’m fine with cuddling. Scoot~”

He moved you to the side a little bit and pulled you against him, stroking your hair and smiling.

You felt a feeling of profound guilt, his face so innocent and caring that the disdain you felt for yourself grew. Why were you so caught up on the emotionally tone-deaf asshole in the other room when you had someone right here who actually cared about you?

Because you and Minho have been through so much together. You were there for each other when no one else was. No matter how hard you try, you would never get over him, would never get rid of the fact that all the two of you really knew was each other.

Juyeon watched as your expression darkened, his fingers pausing, drifting down from your hair and cupping your cheek, just like Minho had done a few hours ago. 

He leaned in, his lips slightly open.

No. You couldn’t do it. This was wrong.

You stopped him, your hand over his mouth as you closed your eyes, not wanting to see his hurt expression. 

“I’m...s-sorry.” You whispered, sniffing. 

“I can’t string you along like this anymore. I’ve never really been a good person...and I’m still not. But I can’t do this to you. Can’t stay with you when I know I can’t return the love you give me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Open your eyes, Y/n.”

You slowly peeled them open, breath hitching as you looked at him.

“I knew.” He pulled away, sighing and sitting up on the bed. “I know you don’t like me. I know you only got together with me to prove something. I guess I fooled myself into thinking one day you might actually fall for me, if I could prove to you what a nice boyfriend I could be...” He glanced at your distressed expression.

“Look, it’s okay. Don’t put yourself down like that. I just...I wanna know why.”

“Well,-”

“Is it because you love him?”

Your eyes widened as you sat up, facing him. “Um, who-”

He shook his head, chuckling. “I should have seen it coming. You know who I’m talking about. Now, tell me. It’s the least you can do.”

You gulped, nodding after a moment’s thought.

“Hmm. Knew it.” He stood up, grabbing his laptop and glancing back at you. 

“I’ll leave, then. I don’t mind staying friends, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t, either.”

He smiled, walking out of your room and to the front door. He passed Minho sprawled out on the couch, glassy stare directed at the Tv that was playing a random infomercial on repeat.

“Hey, bro?”

Minho ignored him.

Juyeon let out a wry laugh. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Minho sighed, tearing his eyes away from the screen. “What do you want?” He snapped.

“Nothing, I just wanted to say you’re an idiot.”

“Ah well, I kinda knew that.”

“No, seriously. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

Minho frowned up at him. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head, making his way to the front door, turning around as he opened it. 

“I’m just saying...seize the opportunity when you have it. You never know when you might lose it.”

“What the fuck are you going on about, dude?”

Juyeon rolled his eyes, flipping him off before leaving.

Minho watched him go, frowning as he glanced at your still shut door. Why’d he leave as soon as he came in?

He wondered if he should check on you. It was probably a bad idea, considering the way you’d blown up at him earlier...

He stood up, going to your door and raising his hand to knock, hesitating. He could hear soft sniffling sounds coming from inside that made his heart break. But seeing him might just hurt you even more...

He sighed, dropping his hand. At the end of the day, he was just a coward. 

He went to his room, sitting down at the table and grabbing a piece of paper. If it was so hard to say those words, maybe he could just write them?

He wrote a small paragraph, before shaking his head and crumpling it up into a ball, throwing it on the floor. About half an hour passed by, and he’d made no progress except for increasing the pile of paper balls on the floor.

He threw his head back, groaning. How do people even do this...

You’ve never had problems like this before. Why are you being such a pussy now, when it really matters?

He chuckled, rubbing his forehead and sneering at the voice in his head.

It isn’t that easy. What if I lose her when I do confess? What if she freaks out, pushes me away completely? I can’t afford to lose her.

Well, if you continue being an asshole like this, you truly will lose her.

He made a sound of frustration, slapping his head as he got out of his chair, thinking about what Juyeon had told him. 

Did it mean what he think he did?

He didn’t want to get his hopes up. He paced the room, running his hands through his hair and trying to figure out what to do. 

If he confessed to you now, it would definitely fall flat. He needed to do something that made it clear that he meant what he said. That he wasn’t joking around, that he was serious. He’d never been so serious in his life, in fact.

There was a possibility he would lose you after this...and the existence of it frightened him. But if being away from him was best for you...he’d gladly stay away.

He opened the door to his room, making sure your door was still closed before dialling Chan for help to set his plan up, leaving the apartment. 

#minho #lee know #minho angst #lee know angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #minho smut #lee know smut #minho fluff #lee know fluff #skz smut #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop fluff

[dansnaturepictures]

7/8/21-Return to Blashford Lakes

Today we went somewhere we hadn’t been for seventeen months and five days. A place that with its splendidly varied habitats which hosts a huge variety of birds throughout the year rare and common, and is strong for butterflies, moths, dragonflies and mammals too and was one of our most crucial and one of my favourite nature reserves in my late childhood and teenage years as I got hooked on birdwatching, wildlife generally and photography and I have always loved it since. Over the years there tended to be a barren spell of us going there over the summer as we maybe focused on more butterfly and other insect dominated locations this pattern developing into my working days a bit as we did come during summer holidays in my school/college days but all year throughout the winter especially this hub for wildlife has been a regular haunt for us for so long. But after that last visit on 1st March 2020 obviously Covid hit and the you could say main feature of seeing wildlife at this reserve is the hides, so it is a reserve good for piling into hides with lots of people looking at birds so obviously not good during Covid times. I have to say the team did work very hard to get the reserve open safely without the hides post lockdown 1 and we did explore the idea of coming back to enjoy this at a stage but due to one thing and another we sadly never quite managed it. But following 19th July the hides now are open with the welcome precautions still in place of masks to be worn and every window that can be opened.

A Black-necked Grebe that had been reported on Ibsley Water attracted us here especially today which we needed to see, and it allowed for this sweet reunion with a place I hold dear. During all the discussions of things you will do when lockdown eases or when we find our way to some kind of normal I felt extremely lucky as I have been able to do my main hobby still just because of what it is. But this was one thing on my list of things I wanted to get back to, getting back to places like these so hide dominated reserves. Prior to today since Covid hit it was only Sculthorpe Moor in Norfolk last September and an open screen/hide type area at Newborough Forest in Anglesey this June that I’d been to hides at.

As I walked in at the visitor centre side of the road entrance it was great to be back and one difference from when I last came here is obviously how vastly more interested I am in flowers now and other areas of insects too. And on the verge at the entrance was a lovely moth mullein which I took a photo of and tweeted on Dans_Pictues tonight one I learnt today. St. John’s-wort and yarrow adorned this patch of grass too and there was a lovely little deraeocoris ruber insect on the yarrow a new one for me which was delightful to see. A big thing about my deeper delves into flowers and other insects over the months has obviously been learning so much and it was the sign of the times back at one of my favourite nature reserves that I was only stood on a grass verge beside a road entrance to the site for two minutes or so and I’d learnt two new species!

I then proceeded across the grassy area to get to ivy north hide the first hide I went into in Hampshire since March 2020 and it was stunning to see the fields carpeted in St. John’s-wort, ragowrt and catsear/hawksbeard type flowers making it look deliciously yellow with thistle, black mullein, self-heal and others looking very pretty too. I took the first picture in this photoset of this area. I also liked seeing one of my favourite flowers foxgloves, purple loosestrife, centaury, wild parsnip, dock and Wood avens and Herb-Robert great woodland species that I hadn’t seen for a while still going strong with shadows of cow parnsnip as well throughout the reserve today. On the field area I noticed a beautiful moth flitting around which I got great views of landed on vegetation a smashing Treble-bar a new moth for me today which I also tweeted a photo fo. A welcome life and year tick for my moths and as my eighteenth identified moth species seen this year it levels (whilst I didn’t do a year list then, I worked this out recently) the amount of moths I saw and knew what they were in 2020 which I am pleased with. And whilst I might not ever be able to know every moth I see its more than justified me reinstating my moth year lists recently as I’ve seen more identified moths than dragon/damselflies and mammals two more year lists I keep beside birds and butterflies the main ones this year so far. I also did here today maybe my penultimate Big Butterfly Count this year with the survey ending tomorrow I had never done one here before and I saw three Gatekeepers and one Small White and Speckled Wood between the showers. A splendid Southern Hawker paraded over this area which I saw on the way out and back. 

I reached ivy north hide and among other things I came away impressed with how Covid secure the reserve is to visit as to save going into the hide if one wishes they have added a little open air viewing screen next to the hide which is interesting. As well as lovely views of ivy lake decent numbers of Sand Martins and a Common Tern parading over the water welcomed me back as key Blashford birds at this time of year and I’d not seen either for a few weeks now whilst having a really good year for them both. By the visitor centre I liked seeing some elecampane and mint in a very colourful flower bed area which I took the second picture in this photoset of seeing a nice bee on it too. Before spending some time at ivy south hide and seeing much the same wildlife wise to ivy north with Common Tern flying very nicely over and young Black-headed Gulls among the gulls out there and taking in some nice views I went in the woodland hide.

At this hide one of my absolute favourites with such intimate views available of feeding birds behind the glass where you can see them but they can’t see you as a shower came and went and some brightness emerged I liked seeing the memorable species of this area come one by one. Firstly a Robin one of some seen across the reserve today a fitting one as on that 1st March 2020 visit I took one of my favourite ever pictures I’ve taken of this iconic species. Then the commoner tits were there with Dunnock, soon to be followed by Marsh Tit coming to feed. Coal Tit and Chaffinch would soon follow as wood delicious looking Nuthatch. And I was stunned and got some very exciting moments when a dominant and large flash of red, cream and black arrived in the form of a Great Spotted Woodpecker (GSW). You can’t come to Blashford and the woodland hide and not see these, one of the species that has captivated me most at this reserve right from when we very first visited the bird of Blashford for me for so long with so many times waiting, watching and hoping and loving seeing and trying for photos of. I took and tweeted a photo of this bird, not the best in an awkward angle a little with it more so on the other side of the feeder than my side but having not been here for nearly a year and a half and how important the GSW is to our Blashford visits I was inclined to take whatever I could get if in the summer days when less birds come to the feeders with food available naturally I was lucky enough to see one. And whilst I’ve been so lucky to see and hear these birds a lot elsewhere since last March it was probably my best chances for pictures since this a species I did photograph from this hide on 1st March 2020 too so it felt so good to be back getting such a prolonged view of it. I rarely see many species on a feeder at the same time as the woodpecker they are that dominant but Great Tit and others did stand up to it and be on the feeder at the same time today. 

It was exhilirating to see a Jay and then another fly in displacing the dominant woodpecker and seeing a shaggy looking Jay especially dash past the window getting a striking view I thought it was going to crash into the window at one point. A spectacular moment and I loved getting pictures of them again this year today including the third picture in this photoset I have had a good year for them. Two standout moments on this trip today with two of my favourite birds. I took the fourth and fifth pictures in this photoset of the body of water on the way to ivy south hide and a lovely view of ivy lake there. 

I then met up with my Mum who had returned from a dog walk at nearby Rockford Common with Missy to end the day in the tern hide. There was no sign of the Black-necked Grebe for us as I arrived after a shower but I did see a lot else. This included an early Goosander, a key staple of a Blashford winter this female was something of an early one and we got a pleasant view of this distinguished duck I took the sixth picture in this photoset of this with my bridge camera which came to life in this hide alongside my DSLR for photos I certainly in summer days where maybe it happens less felt I got my fill of bird photos at this top bird spot. I loved seeing the young speckled Lapwing in the seventh picture in this photoset of a nice intimate view I got of this wonderful wader. There were many Egyptian Geese around too I got some stunning views of these including the one in the tenth picture in this photoset. This was my bogey bird this year one I struggled to see quickly which I usually see without too much trouble due to not coming to Blashford we didn’t see any until Fishlake Meadows and then Petersfield Heath Pond in June seeing an extraordinary amount at the latter with Ruddy Shelduck too. Seeing them all here today it was as though we never needed to worry about seeing one this year. There were top views and more photo opportunities of another of my favourite birds with Great Crested Grebe, and I enjoyed seeing gulls including Lesser Black-backed Gulls well. Another pick of the bunch on Ibsley Water was a sweet little Common Sandpiper a key bird for this spot, a third seen this year by me which has been great after RSPB Lodmoor and Stour Vallye nature reserve in Dorset over two days in our April week off of day trips. The top bird moments were set nicely to dramatic scenes as a further showers moved in and their were touches of sun as well looking over the smashing Ibsley water and I was so glad to be back at Blashford. Its interesting sat in the tern hide on Ibsely Water an area overlooked by the further along Goosander hide and Lapwing hide too, I saw Common Tern some more as well as Lapwing and Goosander. With the Goosanders mostly in over winter any terns the spring and summer migrants you would not see them together so this must be the first time I saw all three in a day which I found very interesting. I took the eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset of the views here.

An always likely sight in the woodland hide at Blashford greeted us when home this evening when a Sparrowhawk flew up from the garden and over the other gardens, appearing to have had a kill with some feathers left in the garden. This was so exciting to see. I had seen probably this Sparrowhawk hovering over the area recently and with the noise and numbers from the Starlings coming in lately this was maybe only a matter of time. Its another glorious Sparrowhawk in the garden experience which I feel over the moon to have a little collection going for here and my Dad’s house where I grew up. I liked seeing some new pretty flowers the bright red chrysanthemums in the back garden too and alongside nice other bird and sky views at home today it was special to see some Goldfinches including a young bird on the balcony feeders once more. What a brilliant Saturday, I hope you all had a good one.

Wildlife Sightings Summary for Blashford Lakes: My first ever deraeocoris ruber and Treble-bar moth, three of my favourite birds the Great Spotted Woodpecker, Jay and Great Crested Grbee, one of my favourite dragonflies the Southern Hawker, Cormorant, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Herring Gull, Black-headed Gull, Common Tern, Coot, lots of Tufted Duck, Mallard, Goosander, lots of Mute Swans, Egyptian Goose, Lapwing, Common Sandpiper, Sand Martin, lots of Woodpigeons, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Coal Tit, Marsh Tit, Nuthatch, Robin, Dunnock, Chaffinch, Gatekeeper, Speckled Wood, Small White, cranefly just inside the window of ivy south hide and bee.

#bee #gatekeeper #speckled wood #small white #crane fly #nuthatch #dunnock #great spotted woodpecker #chaffinch #common snadpiper #woodpigeon #robin #dragonfly #dragonflies #uk #southern hawker #deraeocoris ruber #moth mullein #photography #new forest #blashford #blashford lakes #ringwood #fordingbridge #world #beautiful #happy #wildlife #nature #ragwort

[petri808]

The Truth is not far from Fiction

@nalu-week bonus day AU prompt. Ghost story, modern setting, 7k words

Based on a real life experience.

One day late in the afternoon, Layla Heartfilia hears talking and pops her head into her toddlers bedroom. She sees the four-year-old playing with a doll in the middle of the floor, just babbling away and smiles. “Who are you talking to Lucy?”

The child’s brown eyes beam at her mother. “Mishi wanna pway wich doll.”

Assuming it was just an imaginary friend, the woman plays along. “I see. And are you being a good girl and sharing your toys?”

“Uh-huh, mommy.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back shortly to get you for dinner, okay, you just keep playing nicely with your friend.”

“Otay,” Lucy giggles and looks at the girl sitting across from her, “Mishi you hungy too? Oh.” She then looks back at her mother, “Mishi say no can eat.”

“Why is that dear?”

“Mishis dead.”

><><><><><><><><><

From all outward appearances, Lucy Heartfilia was just your typical teenage girl. She had her tight-knit group of friends, a girly-girl when she wanted to be, but deep down was just as comfortable hanging with the guys. Fangirling over the latest manga heartthrob or relaxing with a good book were her two favorite things to do, well that and spending time with her best friend slash boyfriend Natsu Dragneel.

Natsu was born and raised in Hawaii whereas Lucy was a transplant to the islands. After her mother’s death, her father moved them to Hilo when the opportunity to invest in some new property developments came about. It was a small town compared to the big city they’d left behind, but it was a beautiful place and Lucy fell in love with it quickly. She knew her mother would have loved it because if there was one thing Layla Heartfilia had instilled in her daughter, it was a love of the stars.

Every cloudless night on the island provided a perfect opportunity for stargazing thanks to the role of the observatories on Mauna Kea; the islands largest volcanic mountain. Nothing brighter than an orange amber glow was allowed by law, cutting down on the amount of light pollution in Hawaii. Lucy loved it and took any opportunity to simply kick back under the stars picking out her favorite constellations.    

It was now the summer of their graduation from high school and the friends wanted to do something together to kick it off. A few options were thrown around, but when the idea of relaxing under the stars came to mind, Lucy suggested a camping trip. Campfires and smores, maybe some hiking, or even better, snuggling after dark. The group was sold.

“Gajeel’s dad said his contact will let us stay at K.O.E.C in volcano for the weekend since it’s not being used during the summer.” Levy McGarden was the first friend Lucy made after moving to the island and Gajeel Redfox was the girl’s boyfriend.

Lucy tips her head in confusion. “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.”

“Oh,” Levy chuckles, “sometimes I forget you weren’t born here. In elementary school, all the kids are taken camping there. It’s like an educational retreat cause it’s right next to the national park.”

“Ah, gotcha. So, it’s a camping ground?”

“Mmm, sort of. There’s a building and a big grass area and a bonfire pit.  I don’t know the details if they’ll let us use the main building, but it’ll probably be fine if we just set up tents. Gajeel said the guy will give us a key to the gate when we arrive so we can go in and out.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Despite her father’s wishes for Lucy to go to a bigger college in the states, she decides to stay local for now, though that still meant relocating to a different island. It was true her decision was partially based on where her boyfriend was also attending school, but Chaminade University had a good reputation as well as the programs she was interested in. Natsu had graduated the year prior and received a football scholarship to attend the University of Manoa.  He’d be home for the summer in just a couple of days and she was excited to spend as much time with him as possible.

Starting fresh in a new place during middle school after leaving all of her friends behind in California can be tough on any young person, so it was really thanks to Levy and Natsu for making her feel so welcomed in Hawaii. On the first day of class Levy had befriended her and introduced Lucy into the group of kids that would stick together all the way from Waiakea Intermediate through Waiakea High. They’re like a second family for the girl who didn’t have any siblings and a father who was too busy to pay much attention.

But that was part of the beauty behind her and Natsu’s relationship. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, rather blossoming over several years from a friendship until one day their friend Gray Fullbuster pointed out they were already a pseudo couple so they might as well just make it official. Whenever Lucy thinks about that moment, it always makes her smile, because Natsu had simply chuckled, asked if she wanted to be his girl, she said yes, and they went on with the conversation as if nothing had changed.

Bright and early on a Friday morning, the group meets up at the local McDonald’s parking lot before the caravan heads out as a group to the Volcano area. Lucy rides with Natsu in his pickup truck, while everyone else were in other vehicles. There were eight of them total on their way for a fun filled weekend out in the countryside. It was the first time Lucy would be spending an extended amount of time in the area. Prior to this trip she’s only visited the park to do the typical tourist things like seeing the Jagger Museum or hiking the sulfur banks.

As they make their way to the area, no matter if the vehicle slows or accelerates, the road ahead blends as Lucy stares out the window. Greens, browns, mixed with multiple colors when they pass buildings. Her mind drifts with it, strangely lulled by an energy she cannot place, nor is even aware of its pull on her. The radio playing becomes a background noise with only the bass beats standing out… the drums especially calling to her and lulling her into a spell.  

“You okay, Luce?” Natsu questions her as she stares out the passenger window. The normally chatting girl was surprisingly quiet through the drive.

Lucy breaks out of her trance and looks over at her boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry I was just spacing out.” She smiles to allay his concerns. “I was so excited for this trip that I didn’t get much sleep.”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand with a smile. “How about I set up the tent first thing so you can take a nap?”

“I think I’ll be okay once we start doing stuff.”

“Whatever you say,” he winks.

She really wanted to enjoy this trip but the closer they got to the area the more a churning knot tightened in her stomach. It was a dubious feeling to place, not sick as if she were coming down with a cold, and she didn’t get motion sickness like her boyfriend, it was more like a foreboding feeling. Though a strange time to kick in, she had been a little stressed out about going off to college in the fall, so perhaps it was just a case of nerves.

That must be it, Lucy chalks up the weird feelings and rationalizes them as nothing more than a case of the jitters. Going away from home to a new place was a scary proposition, but she reminds herself she won’t be totally alone. Natsu will be on the island and so will Cana Alberona another close friend. And hey, thanks to the internet, those like Levy will be a simple click away too. She takes a deep breath and releases the churning emotions. It was time to focus on this camping trip and make it memorable.

When the caravan of vehicles pulls into the parking area, everyone waits with their vehicles while Gajeel settles up with the caretaker. Once that was complete, the group starts the task of setting up their gear. They break up the work, with the men focusing on the bigger jobs, erecting the tents, tables, and carrying the heavier items. The girls follow up with the sleeping bags, getting the food and other supplies squared away.

It was a nice place, just like Levy had described to Lucy. To the left of the parking lot was a large main building that housed expansive rooms used as classrooms. Downstairs were restrooms and showers, along with maintenance rooms. The caretaker had turned on the hot water and electricity for them to use on the bottom level, but the upstairs rooms were locked for security purposes. There was also security lighting around the building and on the street, but from what Lucy could gauge, once the sun goes down, the area would be quite dark. Good thing they brought a bunch of lanterns and flashlights.

In front of the building and parking lot, it opened up into a sprawling grassy area surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees were homes and subdivisions. At the very edge of the lawn, Lucy could see the bonfire area her friend had mentioned tucked in a corner. According to the caretaker, it was no longer used for full bonfires due to the threat of starting a forest fire, but they were allowed to make a small, normal sized campfire for doing things like roasting marshmallows or for warmth. The pit was also ringed with fallen Ohia tree logs to sit on.

The place was serene alright… but why was that nagging feeling eating away at her? As she stared towards the bon fire area, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to stay away from it. She didn’t like the vibes this place was giving off, which made absolutely no sense to her. It looked completely safe and quiet, they brought children here to camp for Pete’s sakes! Surely, the county wouldn’t allow visitors if this place wasn’t safe.

A shiver rushes along Lucy’s frame despite the lack of a breeze. Maybe she was just psyching herself out, so she turns away from the pit and focuses on something that did make her feel safe. Natsu had just finished setting up their tent. It was time for her to get their bedding down so they could settle in. Perfect, she could do that.

“So, how do you like it?” Natsu asks her as soon as she walks over to him. “Nice, right?”

“It’s a really scenic place,” Lucy agrees. She didn’t want to concern or spook him with her true thoughts of the place. “Is the tent ready?”

“Yup,” he grins, “pretty sure it won’t cave in.”

She chuckles, “I’ll get our sleeping bags and stuff set up.”

Natsu pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist. “Just make sure I’ve got easy access to ya,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “After six months apart, I need to make up for lost time.”

That brings a flush to her cheeks and a giggle from the woman. “I think I can figure something out.”

He places a soft, lingering kiss on Lucy’s lips. “Remind me again how I managed to make you my girl?”

Lucy grins coyly, “by being an adorable dork.”

“Dork? Says the weirdo,” he chuckles and kisses her again. “Okay, you get cracking on this and I’ll be back in a bit after we set up the campfire for tonight.”

She just nods and watches him walk away for a moment, before turning her attention to the tent. Natsu had even added an additional tarp over the top in case it rained, how thoughtful and smart considering the weather here could turn without warning. Everyone had set up their tents, five in total, at distances from each other. Lucy chuckles in her head, knowing they weren’t the only ones with a little hanky-panky on the agenda.

Instead of using the sleeping bags as they were designed for, she unzips the two sets completely open, using one as the bottom and one as the blanket, finishing off their makeshift bed with the pillows. She then takes the bags that holds their clothing and toiletries and places it in the corner of the tent. Lastly, she double checks that their lantern was working properly and stores it near the entrance, so it was easy to turn on when needed.

With their accommodations ready, she could relax a little while she waited for Natsu to return. Since she didn’t know how long it would take the men to finish, Lucy decides to lay down and close her eyes. He’d suggested she take a short nap, and well, it seemed like a good idea now.

The moment she closes her eyes, the sunlight fades away behind her eyelids as her body slowly gives in. ‘This sleeping bag… is really comfortable…’ She felt peaceful, a sense of stilling calm like in the eye of a hurricane. The blue skies brought warmth streaming through the thin nylon fabric of the tent, pacifying the nervous pin pricks licking along her frame. Is that music playing somewhere? Lucy wonders as the edge of oblivion comes calling... Does someone have their bass cranked up?  

‘Did I sleep the afternoon away?’ Lucy looks around as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and the sickening feeling pitted in her stomach tightens. Something’s wrong, her mind screams. Where was the tent?! Why was she in the forest?! Where did everyone go? She was taking a nap and suddenly she was in the middle of the dark Ohia forest.

It was deathly silent save for the drumbeats and chanting getting louder— so loud that she felt it in her bones. No other signs of life, of crickets or coqui frogs, nor distant sounds of the homes she knew were laid out around the campsite. Only the drowning of drumbeats and the word kapu (sacred) repeated over and over. She covers her ears in a useless attempt to shield them from the noise, but it was as if they were coming from inside her head.

‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Her voice cracked and trembling, desperate to get away from the torment. Fight or flight takes hold and she starts to back away, but her legs feel like rubber, her feet like dead weight. She looks down as a silent scream bubbles up in her throat. Why is her feet sinking into the mud! The ground had been solid a second ago!

She opens her mouth to cry out for Natsu, anybody, but no sound leaves her. Panic sets in, sending her mind into a tailspin, and energy surges through her body. She claws at her throat in desperation, why wasn’t her voice coming out! Her mind is begging for someone to please hear her screams. Natsu! Where was Natsu?!

Something grabs her from behind and her arms begin flailing out desperate to fight back.

“Lucy, wake up!”

“Natsu!” The blonde screams, kicking and punching as she sits straight up on the bedding. Still in a panicked fight for her life, she scrambles away until her back hits the wall of the tent. Her brain is struggling to take back control from the dreamworld, but the sounds were all she could hear roaring in her eardrums.

The hold around her center felt as if something very strong and powerful was squeezing the life out of her. All she could hear in her head were her own screams and that incessant drumbeat! Make it stop! Make it stop! The tears are pouring down, clouding her vision and marring the scene in front of her. Get me out of here!

“Lucy, Lucy!” Natsu grabs hold of her wrists to keep her from hitting him. “It’s a dream, Lucy, you’re okay now.” His own panic was rising faster than a flood. Why wasn’t she responding to him? Her eyes are open, but she was staring past him as if he didn’t exist just screaming for help.

“Lucy?” He feels what he can only equate to as sticking your hand in an electrical socket. His hands start to tingle and the air around them heats up. “W-What the hell is going on?!” Natsu squeaks out as a true fear takes hold. He could understand daymares, but this… this was abnormal!  

She thrashes against his hold for a few more seconds, shaking her head as tears pour in torrents down her cheeks. But despite the eerie shocks Lucy was giving him, he holds on tight until the opportunity presents itself to pull her into a fierce bear hug. Natsu had no idea what had set this off, so he fights off his own panic and does what he can, cooing and speaking softly to calm her. He couldn’t tell if his voice even had any weight behind it, but it was all he could muster.

“Shhh, babe I got ya now. Whatever it was, you’re safe.”

Natsu cradles her head, keeping it locked against his chest. There are footsteps around the tent along with a few ‘are you guys okay’ being asked. He responds that it was just a bad dream and not to worry. Lucy must have been much more tired than they’d realized for her to fall asleep so deeply and enter the dream stage in less than 30 minutes. He and Gray had only completed a third of the firepit when Levy had come to get him. The woman had heard distressing sounds coming from his girlfriend and they’d been enough to concern her.

Though Lucys mind was coming out of the dream world, and reality was taking hold again, a heavier panic sets in. How was she supposed to explain this to him? There was something about her life that she’d kept secret from everyone for fear of being looked at as a freak, and most of the time it wasn’t a problem to keep it hidden. Lucy fights to gain back control and to stop shaking. ‘It was just a dream Lucy,’ she tries to psyche up the lie in her head. ‘Nothing paranormal about a dream. It’s the stress manifesting itself.’ She didn’t want to worry anyone.

She takes several long, slow, deep breaths until the panic attack starts to wane. “Thank you, Natsu I-I’m fine now. I’m so sorry. I think all the anxiety of college is just getting to me.”

“No need to apologize Lucy, leaving home is scary. But you know I’ll be there for you right?”

“Yeah,” she cracks a smile. “I know you will be.”

“That was a pretty crazy dream though. Do you remember what it was about?”

Kapu… “No,” she shakes her head as if accentuating the word, but in reality, wishing the sounds echoing in her head would disappear.

“Okay.” His gut tells him not to push the topic until she was ready. Natsu kisses her forehead, “well if you do and you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.” He smiles at her, “hey, why don’t you go wash your face, catch your breath, and maybe hang out with the girls to distract yourself while I finish up what I was doing?”

Lucy nods, “That’s a good idea.”

Of course, the moment she sat down with her concerned friends they bombarded her with questions about the daymare. Cana the ever-budding ‘spiritualist’ of the group pressing for information so she could discern the meanings behind what Lucy had seen. But she feigned not remembering anything once she’d been awoken by Natsu. She didn’t want to remember, rather forget it had ever happened. So, she falls back to the same excuse she’d used for him. Why not? At least if it were a consistent lie it would be easier to keep up.

“Are you sure Lu?” Levy reaches over and places a hand on her friends knee, “cause the way you were screaming… I swear even I was getting chills.”

“You literally sounded like you were being murdered.”

“Blunt enough, Cana?” Levy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to be freaked out any more than necessary.”

“I really appreciate you’re guys concern, but I swear I’m fine now. I don’t remember what it was about and if it’s as bad as you’re saying, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

Levy fixes Lucy with a stare. “At least promise me if it happens again, you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise.” Lucy smiles back hoping to allay her friends concerns. “I think my nerves are just fried over college.”

To Lucy’s relief the rest of the group quickly switched into that topic. Juvia Lockser, Gray’s girlfriend was already a Sophomore in college, but she and the others shared their feelings of anxiety. It turns out they all felt similar to her, maybe even more so. Levy and Cana were born and raised in Hilo and had never travelled outside of the state before. Juvia is a transplant like Lucy except she came here for college from Seattle, Washington. It was only after meeting Gray at the University last year that she was folded into their group.      

“Lemme see if I can explain it,” Levy taps her chin. “A lot of islanders feel like they’re stuck here— okay maybe not stuck, but like… they don’t wanna leave their comfort zone. So, going away for college is really nerve wracking, that’s why I’m really anxious about it and excited at the same time.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cana chimes in, “I’m nervous sure, but I can’t wait to go to Honolulu! First thing I plan to do is hit the clubs! And I plan to drag you with me Lu.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lucy waves her hands excitedly while laughing, “don’t drag me into that!”

“Aww, come on, think about it! I’ll get you all hot and bothered and unleash you on Natsu.” Cana winks, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“OMG!” Lucy throws a handful of ripped grass at her friend as the other girls burst into laughter.

It’s not long in chatting with the girls that Lucy’s fears subside and the daymare is semi-forgotten. They talk about the rest of their plans for the weekend, like how tomorrow will be spent in the park checking out the latest volcanic activity and hiking the trails. Someone needs to stay behind to watch the camp, so Cana and Loke de Lioncourt agree to do it. Their reasoning is let the couples have fun exploring, but everyone else knows that the pair wanted some “fun time” to themselves.

Things were still quiet for Lucy by the time the men finish prepping the fire pit. The girls had made a simple lunch of sandwiches for the gang, so the guys join the conversation and things continue to flow smoothly into a relaxing afternoon. With Natsu by her side, Lucy feels an additional calming energy and that helps to settle the remnants of creepy sensations she was still having. She didn’t know how of why he was having that effect on her but welcomed it regardless.  

No matter where you go, there are spirits and because of her abilities, Lucy did what she could to acclimate to her surroundings. After moving to the islands, she familiarized herself with local legends and lore, about the gods and aumakua’s (spirit guardians), and so much more. There were tons of spirits here. But that didn’t mean she knew everything or when or where she may encounter them, and she certainly was no expert in how to deal with it. There’s no training manual for this stuff. The lucky ones find someone to mentor them, but beyond picking up tidbits where she could, Lucy worked by intuition most of the time.

After the incident in the tent, Natsu’s instincts were heightened. He couldn’t get a good read on what Lucy was thinking or feeling, but he could tell something was bothering her despite her downplays. But unless she was willing to tell him, he could only guess why her energy was spiking in an unusual manner and as darkness approached it was only increasing.

He watches her closely and starts to notice more troubling signs. Clearly, she was trying to hide them, but her mood was starting to change from engaged to removed. Where she was chatting normally at lunch, Lucy had slowed to only answering when spoken to. It was as if her mind was elsewhere and her energy level was waning. It reminded him of her behavior in the truck on their way to the site. Was it returning again?

“Here you go,” Natsu hands Lucy a plate of dinner. The group had barbecued some meat and thanks to the buildings electricity were able to make rice for a starch.

“Thanks,” she smiles, though the look behind it gave off a disinterested vibe.

Lucy had been holding her arm around her stomach as if it were bothering her. He’d just hoped she would say something if that were the case, but she never had. He sits down beside her, eating, and continuing his vigil. Was Lucy getting paler, or was it just the waning light? Even her eyes seemed dimmer.

“Are you feeling ill, you don’t look well.” Natsu finally whispers hoping not to gain attention from the group.

“Huh? Why?”

“You just look a little peaked is all.”

“I don’t know,” Lucy picks at the contents of her plate, “maybe I’m still tired… I kinda feel zapped all of a sudden.” She was feeling ill, as if an unexpected flu was kicking in, but she didn’t want to admit it. Her stomach was queasy, and her head was starting to get dizzy.  

“If you’re not feeling well, I don’t mind taking you home.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head determined to push through this bout. “I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” But shaking her head was a bad idea and now she really felt dizzy. Why was this happening now? She’d been perfectly fine when they were in Hilo.

“Luce, helping my girl out isn’t gonna ruin my weekend.”

“Are you sure? Because…” her voice trails out and eyes roll back seconds before Lucy collapses forward. She never had a chance to finish.

The next 30 seconds is like a slow-motion scenes in a movie. Her name is screamed, and gasps ring out. Natsu reacts on instinct, dropping his plate and shooting his hand out to grab her before she face plants onto the ground. Everyone around them is on their feet in a flash, rushing over for support. When he lands partially under Lucy, Gajeel and Gray help him to get back into a sitting position with the unconscious woman still cradled in his lap.  

Natsu could feel a dark energy gathering around her that hadn’t been there before, triggering electrical sensations along his skin, similar to what he’d felt in the tent. This was not good… not good at all! Whatever had affected Lucy earlier in the day was intensifying. “I better get her to the hospital, somethings not right!” He scoops the unconscious woman up and gets to his feet.

Gray reaches out to support some of Lucy’s weight as Natsu stands up. “Yeah, man, do what you gotta do.”

“And don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll take care of it,” Gajeel chimes in. “You just worry about you’re woman.”

Levy places a hand on Natsu’s arm, her eyes clouded and barely holding back the pain of her concern. This was her best friend. With such an eventful afternoon, every worst-case scenario was running through her mind. Was Lucy sick? What kind of illness could strike a healthy young woman down so quickly? “Please call us as soon as you find out what’s wrong, okay, promise me.”

“Will do, Lev, I promise. Thanks guys.”

As Natsu secures Lucy into his truck, the girls grab the couple’s personal belongings like Lucy’s purse and a duffle bag of clothing for him. The camping gear, tent and such will be safe in the care of their friends. He was doing all he could to stay calm because the last thing he needed was to lose control and wreck his truck or something. When he climbs in and starts up the vehicle, he notices Lucy starting to stir a little. She was strapped in so she wouldn’t fall over, and her body stayed slumped, but her head was working to hold itself up. “Lucy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah…” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What… happened?”

“You collapsed.”

Once he makes it out of the country roads and clears the forest, the truck roars it down the highway. Natsu wanted to get Lucy to the hospital as quickly as possible since it was about 40-50 miles away. Lucy was healthy, so he was concerned with the speed this illness had hit her, fast and hard.

He keeps his eyes on the road but checks on the woman in his passenger seat every few seconds. When they’d put her in the truck, she was barely ambulatory and coherent. Lucy still had her eyes closed as she rested her head in the crook of the door frame and seat. She was breathing normally as far as he could tell and at least her arm had relaxed away from clenching around her abdomen.

If he didn’t know better, it was as if Lucy had fallen asleep again. But the longer he watched, the more he could tell the situation was changing. After 10 minutes of driving and reaching the Fern forest area, she had shifted in the seat, stretching out her legs and sitting upright.

“How ya feeling Lucy?”

“A little better,” she responds. It was strange, but the heavy pressure she had felt back at the camp was slowly lifting the further they got away from it. Her body still felt tired as if all the energy had been sucked from it, but at least the foreboding vibes were melting away and she could breathe easier again. It was a complete reversal of how she felt going to the area.

“That’s good to hear.” It wasn’t just her words that brought him some relief. Natsu could sense the shift. The aura around her was no longer as dark as it had been at the camp.

Another 10 minutes or so passes by and they’d reached the town of Mountain View. Here Natsu was forced to slow down due to a slower speed limit and higher traffic flow. They come to a red traffic signal, so he takes the opportunity to make a better assessment of his girlfriend. Not only was Lucy’s eyes open, but they looked bright and her skin wasn’t as pale anymore. She was sitting fully upright just looking around as if taking in the view. Certainly not the look of someone being rushed to the hospital.

“Could we stop and grab food,” Lucy asks out of the blue when they’re about to hit Keaau town. He turns and looks to see her smiling at him. “I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”

“Um, yeah sure,” his eyebrow raises in confusion, “we could stop at McDonalds.”

“Great!”

“You know,” he pauses, “you seem a lot better Lucy, like completely normal and that’s kind of freaking me out.”

Lucy averts her eyes and her lips curve down in a small frown. “I’m really sorry for worrying you Natsu.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t really like to talk about it…”

“Well I think I deserve to know considering you just scared the hell out of me Luce.”

She sighs, “You’re right— I-I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but there is something I haven’t told you or anyone else.”

Natsu can see the moisture building in her eyes, she was clearly torn and upset over whatever it was. He wasn’t angry that she’d withheld something from him, maybe a little annoyed, but he assumed she had a good reason for it. Lucy was never one to lie to him, so this must be a big deal to her. “You know I’d never judge you, right? You can tell me anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she sighs again. “You don’t need to take me to the hospital, there’s nothing medically wrong with me.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucy nods. “Can we grab food and go back to your house? Then I’ll come clean… a-about everything.”

He picks up her hand and kisses it, nodding before turning off into the shopping complex’s parking lot. They order food through the drive through, then set off for his parent’s house in Hilo. It takes them about 20 more minutes to arrive and after giving a half-hearted explanation of cutting their trip short to his parents, the pair settle upstairs in Natsu’s bedroom.

Starving had been an understatement as Natsu watched Lucy inhale her burger. Normally he would finish meals first and would have to wait for her to catch up. It was eye opening, and probably the first time in all the years they’ve known each other he’s witnessed it. Of course, the whole day has been filled with new experiences with her, and this was the least concerning of it all.

With her food gone, Lucy pushes herself up and sits back against his headboard contemplating exactly how she should explain things to Natsu. She didn’t know why she was so worried about telling him, since he’s never been judgmental before. In fact, he often teased that he found her quirks endearing. But this wasn’t exactly normal. For his part, Natsu just sat on the bed in front of her in a cross-legged position, patiently waiting.

With her fingers fidgeting in her lap and her eyes boring holes into his comforter, Lucy starts out with a question of her own. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Never seen one before, but I believe it’s not impossible for them to exist.” He shifts in his position to let his legs stretch out and props himself with his arms behind his back. “I mean growing up here and being bombarded by the culture kind of gave me an open mind to it.”

“W-What if I told you that I’ve been able to see them since I was a kid? Would you think I’m weird?”

“You mean weirder than I already think you are? No,” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t.”

“I’m serious!” she pouts.

“So am I,” Natsu laughs harder. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he leans forward and pats her foot, his expression softening. “I’m just trying to show you that it doesn’t bother me. I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Is that what is was back there, a ghost?”

Lucy shakes her head. “I don’t think it was a regular ghost, and I still don’t fully understand what happened.”

“How about starting from the beginning. You were distracted before we even got to the place.”

“It was strange… like, as we drove into the area, I was getting a creepy feeling, you know, like when the hair stands up on the back of your neck? I tried to ignore it, but it only grew stronger once we reached the site. I kept telling myself it was nerves and then that daymare happened.” Lucy didn’t want to admit it, but in hindsight all the warning bells were there, and she’d chosen to ignore them. The creepy feelings, the energy drains, that daymare… If she’d listened to her instincts, she could have invoked a protection barrier. Of course, with how strong the energy source had been, she didn’t know if it would have worked, but trying would have been better than nothing.

“Yeah, the daymare. Do you remember it?”

She squeezes her eyes shut still wishing she couldn’t, but nods, “I do.” Sometimes her abilities came in handy and other times it was more like a curse. Lucy couldn’t see ghosts, but she could feel them, hear them, and being a sensitive attracted them to her. Most were benign, simply stuck in this realm, while others were angry and strong enough to affect the living world. As a sensitive, Lucy was more likely to become a target because just as she could sense them, they could sense her.

“Are you up to telling me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to cause you were pretty freaked out about it.”

“I should…”

Natsu realizes just thinking about it is triggering a small panic attack again. He sees her body start to shiver and shake. “H-Hey,” he quickly crawls over, pulls her into his lap and cradles her. “Don’t force yourself.”

“No, I-I want to. Maybe if I let it out, i-it’ll help.” Lucy releases an exhale. “I was in the forest hearing all these drumbeats and chanting and it was getting louder.” Her hands cover her ears as if she was re-living the dream. “I was so confused, no idea how I got there. My feet started to sink into the ground, and I couldn’t fight back when something grabbed me. I-I started to panic and the word kapu kept ringing in my head. I was screaming for you, for anyone… ugh the drums! A-and that’s when I woke up.”

He moves her hands away from her ears and tightens his embrace in a bid to make her feel safe again.

“After you calmed me down, I was able to forget about it for a while. I figured it was just a bad dream and moved on. But then during dinner I started to feel drained, like all my energy was being sucked away. I tried to ignore it thinking I was just tired and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the truck.”

“And this has never happened to you before?”

She shakes her head no. “At least not this bad before.” This wasn’t the first time Lucy had encountered an area heavy with spiritual energy. The islands were rife with it, but this was the first time that it had affected her to this extent.

“So, it has happened before?”

“Sort of… like once before when I went to a place that I learned later has evil spirits.” Lucy relaxes a little. “Best I can explain it, is when there’s really strong energies around me, it makes me feel weird, like zapped. Maybe there were powerful spirits around the camping area.” A chill runs along her spine causing her to shiver. “Definitely not going back to that place again.” Lucy looks up at Natsu. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Far from it.” He hugs her tighter. “You just have a gift and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Lucy snorts a laugh, “can I return this gift?”

“Mmmm,” he chuckles too, “probably not. But you know, you’re not alone, right? I mean, you’re the only person I know that’s actually seen stuff, but as far as being sensitive, you’re not the only one. My mom says that I have a little bit of empathic abilities. I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I just know I pick up on how people are feeling around me. That’s why I kept asking if you were okay.”

“Wow,” her eyes widen, “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t advertise it,” Natsu laughs. “The guys know about me, but it’s not something I talk about to others.”

She sighs, “guess we were both hiding something from each other.”

“I won’t hold it against you, if you won’t hold it against me.”

“Thank you Natsu.” Lucy leans up and kisses him softly. She cups his cheek in her hands, “I really appreciate you being so understanding.”

He places his hand over hers, eyes smiling, just holding the special moment. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He then pulls her head against his shoulder.

Lucy settles happily on his lap just relieved that the whole ordeal was over. It was disheartening that she wouldn’t get to hang out with their friends this weekend but having Natsu with her was enough for now. They still had the rest of the summer to spare.

While she recuperated in his arms, Natsu sends a text to Gray and Levy explaining what happened. To his surprise the girl sends a message back saying she may know what Lucy was experiencing. There was a Hawaiian legend from the volcano area that may explain it. So, he calls Levy and puts her on speakerphone.

According to the girls readings, during the time King Kamehameha the First was working to unify all of the islands, many battles took place with local chiefs, including in the volcano area. Legend holds that sometimes spirits of deceased soldiers will continue to march in death. Such ‘Night Marchers’ have been seen right around the area where K.O.E.C. is located. They come out at specific times, which Levy had no idea when that could be. But perhaps, that was the source of what affected Lucy?

It was as good a guess as any.

Levy, “Some say that if the living encounters them, unless there is an aumakua in the procession of marchers to protect that person, they can become ill or even die from exposure. Course no one’s ever verified any of that.”

“I remember reading about the night marchers. I always thought it was exaggerated like a lot of claims are.” Lucy frowns, “but it sure explains what I might have been sensing.” She’d studied local lore because it was interesting to her and the culture in Hawaii made it fairly easy to research things. Stories of ancient tales and ghostly encounters abound here, but there was so much information, it wasn’t always easy to tell fact from fiction.

“Do you think they were warning you or something?” Natsu questions. “Cause it wasn’t even fully nighttime yet and I heard they come out later in the evening.”

“Ugh,” Lucy groans, “I have no idea because I really don’t fully understand all this stuff yet. Like I said, I thought night marchers were just folklore, so I never believed all the stories. But thanks Levy, knowing what it might have been makes me feel a lot better that I wasn’t going crazy.”

Levy, “Aww, you’re welcome Lu! It’s kind of late to pack it in for the night, but everyone agrees we rather find somewhere else to camp so you guys can join us for the rest of the weekend.”

“Wow, really? That’ll be so great!”

Levy, “Of course! It’s always better when everyone’s together. Take care you guys, and don’t worry about us. I’ll text you as soon as we figure out the plan.”

Natsu hangs up the phone and bundles Lucy close. “So, what’dya say? Spend the night here with me?”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Pfft, my parents love you. Just kinda bummed we can’t… you know,” he grins.

“I’m just as bummed about that too,” she teases, “but there’s always tomorrow.” Lucy cuddles against him and closes her eyes. Natsu’s energy was so soothing to her and now she knew why. It was kind of amusing that she ended up with a guy who had gifts like her, albeit a different one. Still, it made her feel normal for once in her entire life. “Thank you again Natsu, you know, for everything.”

He kisses the top of her head and leans his against hers. “You’re welcome, weirdo.”

“Yeah, well a weirdo you’re stuck with.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

><><><>Notes<><><><

Much of the spookier elements are based off an experience I had when I was around the age of 11 when we were taken to this location for a school trip. By the end of the day I was getting so sick a chaperone had to take me home, but just like in the story, once we were away from the area, I was completely fine. I’ve had many experiences over the years, this one isn’t even the scariest. No idea how you label me, all I know is I am sensitive, possibly an empath, I absorb and affect energy. I don’t actually see spirits, I just sense them and generally unless they are strong like those in this story, they don’t bother me or can’t because I can repel them now. Oh, and the reason I made Natsu have something too is just because lol. My husband actually sees stuff, and I think it’s ironic that I picked someone that has gifts too. 

#nalu week 2020 #nalu #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #au prompt #modern AU #ghost tale #petri808

[purplesurveys]

1102

survey by joybucket

What color are your eyes? They are dark brown. They’re actually really more of black because of how dark they are, but that sounds creepy so let’s just go with really really dark brown.

What's your favorite type of milk? I don’t take a lot of milk and am not familiar with most of them.

What's your passion? What a deep, introspective question three questions into this survey lmao. My interests are always changing so I don’t really give much thought into this. I don’t let myself be bound to just one thing.

What's your favorite color? I really like the way baby pink looks on everything.

Are you shy? Sure, but I’m trying to break out of that shell. Based from hundreds of past experiences, being shy is the easiest way to be forgettable and I’m tired of people never remembering my name or anything about me.

What is/was your favorite school subject? History. Anything about it I will surely enjoy.

Do you celebrate Christmas? Yes.

What's your favorite quote? I don’t keep track of quotes.

What is your natural hair color? It’s black.

Do you like it? There’s nothing to complain about. I’d love to have it dyed just to try out something new with my look, because it’s been black and untouched for 23 years; I guess it’s just a matter of when I’ll push through with it.

Are you happy with the way you look? I wish some aspects were different, like my hair to be less frizzy, my front teeth to be straight, my eyesight to be clearer, etc. But it’s also whatever; I don’t really focus on these things too much as I’ve never been the type of person to concentrate on my physical looks.

What would you change about your appearance if you could? ^ Well, those things I listed. Also, to have boobs?? Puberty never did anything for me in that department.

What would you change about your bedroom if you could? I’d move the bed up against the wall because that’s always been more my vibe. If I had the energy, I’d buy a storage container and place all Gab-related stuff in there so I can finally hide away those things (but not entirely throw them out). I would also fix my closet, all three sections of it. I’d also love to get a homey and soothing night lamp and be able to regularly buy scented candles to de-stress at the end of the day. In other news, my room has remained stale for so long and needs a revamp HAHAHA.

Are you rich or poor? I’d say we are in the middle, but our financial situation throughout Covid has been making me increasingly worry.

Are you double jointed? Nope.

What's the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced? The time I ripped my ear piercing, and my foot infection from snorkeling. Also getting my blood drawn, but that’s only because I’m a big baby when it comes to sharp things.

Do you like shots? See above.

Are you afraid of spiders? Our spiders are never too large or look menacing where I live, so not really. I’m aware of how big they can get in other places though so I totally understand the widespread hatred for spiders lol.

Have you ever had an allergic reaction to something? Not sure if it’s an allergy, but my legs quickly get irritated if they’re exposed in a grassy area for too long. My face also doesn’t seem to appreciate face masks, (the skincare kind), but I’m not sure if that’s an allergic reaction or if face masks are meant to do that.

Name a food that you like that's green. Green curry, or broccoli.

Do you like to read? Yes. More of non-fiction, though. I haven’t read a fiction book since I wasssss probably in middle school or early high school.

Do you know what your purpose in life is? No. I don’t stress out over stuff like this lol, I just make sure I’m happy where I am and at the same time, still feel fulfilled with the things I’m doing. 

Are you lonely? I can be, but I guess it’s just meant to happen sometimes.

What's something you are good at? Reading people. Sometimes to my benefit, sometimes otherwise.

What's a color that looks great on you? Olive green and maroon are my favorite shades.

What's something you would like to improve at? Being creative. My work requires a lot of it and I end up being a shitty teammate whenever we have to do brainstorming, because I literally just stay to the side, unable to think of anything.

Do you believe you have great potential? Yes.

What's one word to describe you? Right now? Tired.

Are you spiritual? Nope.

What's one thing that you get a lot of compliments on? My writing.

What's one hidden talent that you have? I dunno if it counts as a talent but I memorize a great deal of songs from Jay-Z and Kanye’s Watch the Throne album, which has always been a fun ‘talent’ to whip out and surprise friends with when we’re partying at a club/bar and a song from the album is suddenly played.

What are three girls' names that you really like? I love Olivia, Mia, and Harper. I’ve probably listed those names a thousand times on these surveys by now.

What are three boys' names that you really like? I like Liam, Mason, and Lucas.

What is the most beautiful scenery you have ever beheld?  The prettiest place I’ve been to was probably Palawan.

What is your favorite pizza topping? Just cheese is fine with me. If that doesn’t count, bell peppers come second. I can definitely live without the other usual toppings like pepperoni, beef, etc.

Name a food that you like that's red. I said green curry in the green foods question, and I’ll answer red curry here, haha.

Are you color blind? Nope.

Have you ever had a crush? Yes.

Can you type fast? I can and I do on a daily basis.

What's your favorite type of cereal? Erm, I’ve never tried them before but I’m drawn to cereals that are rather sweet lol, like Reese’s Puffs or Hershey’s Kisses cereal line. The thing is, they’re classified as one of the luxury imported brands over here so their prices are very unreasonable for a box of cereal, and I never get to have them as a result. Otherwise I don’t enjoy cereal too much.

What is one of your dreams? I would love to have a family.

What are your top three favorite colors? Baby pink, white, and mustard yellow.

What is your favorite book? I don’t have one.

What is your favorite amusement park ride? Ones that would provide enough thrill but won’t make me pass out, like the octopus.

What are three middle names you wouldn't mind having? Idk, I’m fine with my second name. I actually really like the name Isabelle and at one point I unsuccessfully tried to make it my main name, back when I still hated Robyn.

Are you flexible? Not really anymore. I used to be, kind of.

Do you consider yourself religious? Not at all. I haven’t been in around five years. I’ve been atheist since I was in the 4th grade, then I had this very sudden (but very brief) change of heart back in senior year when I started praying a lot. I went back to atheism as soon as I started university.

Are you bold? I can be, but it’s not one of my principal traits.

Are you spontaneous? It’s nice to be every once in a while, but I’m not always.

Do you have a significant other? No.

What's your pet peeve? Lateness.

How tall are you? Just a little over 5 feet, which does not classify me as tall at all.

What's your sexual orientation? Demi. I’ve also been increasingly self-identifying as asexual, so let’s go with that too.

Can you sing? Nope.

Can you dance? Nope, but I still do it when I’m alone.

Can you draw? No.

Do you play an instrument? I mean, just the recorder, but I don’t know if that counts.

What school subject do you hate the most? Chemistry. I struggled with it both in high school and in college. I hated physics and geometry too, but at least I got better at them as I got older. Chemistry is just far too complicated for me to appreciate.

What's your least favorite color? Most shades of yellow and neon green.

Do you eat healthy? I wouldn’t say I exclusively eat healthily, but I do keep a good balance in the food I consume. I enjoy my junk food as much as I like eating vegetables.

Do you think you look better with short or long hair? I’d say short.

What's a color that doesn't look good on you? White.

Are you passionate? Sure.

Are you doing the most you can with your life? Right now, with the world falling apart around me? I definitely try to. I have a great job, I spoil myself and try out new things for myself every now and then, I’ve pulled myself out from the rut I used to be in a few months ago, etc. I guess I can say I like where I am.

Are you proud of yourself for the way you are living? See above.

Do you love yourself? I've started taking a couple of steps down that path.

Do you have regrets? Sure.

Do you have wishes and dreams? Of course.

Do you have a huge secret you are keeping from the world? I suppose so.

Do you have neat handwriting? Yeah, I get quite a lot of compliments on my penmanship in general. I liked practicing my writing as soon as I learned how to properly hold a pencil, so I guess all those times served as good training.

Name a current favorite song. I dunno but Hayley is set to release a new album by tomorrow so a couple of songs from there will most definitely end up being a favorite.

List a song lyric that you like. “Can you live with what you know about yourself when you're all alone, behind closed doors?”

Are you happy? I think so. I’m definitely not as sad as I used to be.

Are you a generally optimistic person? I try to be, but I allow myself to be negative or realistic sometimes.

Have you ever had something horrible happen to you? Between deaths in the family, depression and other mental health issues, and personal life events that were less than nice, absolutely.

Have you ever been abused? Sure.

Have you ever been harassed and/or bullied? I was bullied as a kid because of my name, and as a result it was difficult to make friends for years. I’ve never been harassed though.

Do you love nature? Yes, I love being around nature when I get the chance.

Are you free-spirited? I wouldn’t consider myself that. I like being on the careful side when it comes to many things.

Are you carefree? Not really. 

Would you say you are an overcomer? Yup.

Are you a good friend? I hope I am.

Do you like animals? Love them, except insects.

Do you meditate? No. I actually tried yoga for the first time yesterday because that’s what my workout app had planned for me, but I quickly learned that I am way too impatient for it, lmao. The whole session was meant to be I think 30 minutes? but I quit by like the 14-minute mark and did another program. Idk, I guess it’s just not for me.

Do you pray? No.

What month were you born in? April.

What's your favorite season? We don’t have the usual four seasons but I’m gonna go ahead and say winter because it’s what appeals to me most.

What's one place you've been to that you want to visit again? I want to keep coming back to Sagada.

What's one place you want to go that you've never visited before? Thailand.

What's your favorite type of tree? I don’t have one.

Are you laid-back? I tend to be uptight most of the time, actually.

Are you hard on yourself? Yes.

How's your self-esteem? It’s been getting better, but sometimes I still can’t help but feel insecure.

What medical conditions do you/have you had? Scoliosis.

What are you allergic to? I have had itchy, irritable reactions to face masks and grass before, but not sure if they’re allergies.

Do you like to try new things? For sure, as long as it’s not a crime or if it involves my fears lmfao. Like I would be willing to skydive or dye my hair a strange color, but I’d never scheme a burglary or jump in a tub of cockroaches.

What's one word to describe your style? Chic.

What's one word to describe your bedroom? Plain. I definitely need to mix it up so that it can feel more like who I am.

What's one thing you like about yourself? I like that I’ve always been able to surpass difficulties and come out a better person from them, instead of letting them consume me.

What's one thing you dislike about yourself? I need to stop blaming myself for things out of my control.

Are you competitive? To a fault.

Are you faithful? Sure.

Can you cook? Hell no.

What's your favorite restaurant? Ramen Nagi.

#survey #surveys #kinda basic-ish but not really which works out v well for me

[woo-san-shine]

Our Way

ateez college au

Premise: You and your best friend from high school move away to a university 3 hours away from your small hometown. You find yourself meeting a strange cast of characters along the way that will help you find your way throughout your freshman year.    

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none, filler chapter 

Author’s Note: Hi!!! I know it has been literal months since I’ve posted, but university was a lot more overwhelming than I thought it was going to be. But I do have a lot more free time now, so hopefully I can get this story back up and running! Some things about this au will change (mostly texting images because I have a new app for that lololol). Thanks~ 

prev // next 

Chapter 8

It was a few hours later and I was struggling with my portrait.  I had said goodbye to Mingi, who had told me he was going to go take a nap when we got back to the dorm.  Sooyoung wasn't in the room when I got there, so I decided to put on some music and try to work on sketching Chaewon's hair.  During class, we had taken pictures of each other for reference, so I had my phone propped up against my pillow while I lay on my stomach on my bed.  I am trying to redo her right eyebrow for probably the 8th time when I hear the door open.

"Jaaaaaaemin, are you in here?" Sooyoung's voice enters the room before she does.

"Up here," I say as I turn around to see Sooyoung taking off her shoes in the doorway.  I am also pleasantly surprised to see Mingi standing behind her.

"Oh, hello again," I say to him.

He waves up at me from behind Sooyoung, who turns quickly to look up at him.

"Again?" she questions.

"We somehow ended up in the same English class," I say as she looks back and forth between Mingi and me, brows slightly furrowed.

"Huh," she says while walking over to her desk. "What are the odds." Her tone implies this as more of a statement rather than a question.

"How was your nap," I ask Mingi. He was just kind of standing in the middle of the room awkwardly while Sooyoung was emptying her bookbag at her desk.

"Uh, kinda short," he says to me under his breath. "I had just laid my head on the pillow and before I know it, there was a knock on my door."

"Hey, I didn't force you to come over here," Sooyoung says shooting a look over to us. "I just wanted to see if anyone was home.

Mingi shyly stares down at his shoes.

"So Jae, tell me about your first day," Sooyoung says to me.

"Oh, I mean, it was nothing special. Had a few classes, already have an assignment due on Wednesday, a professor may or may not be out to get me. Ya know, the usual."

"What?" She questions.

"Oh wait until you hear this," Mingi says urging me to keep talking.

There is an ever so faint scowl on Sooyoung's face as her eyes dart from Mingi's excited smile to my slightly worried one. I tell her about the mug incident and that scowl quickly turns into a face full of rage.

"Are you kidding me, Jae?! She can't do that to you!"

Mingi has to almost hold her back as she threatens to go find Ms. Lee and teach her a lesson.

"Really, Soo," I say with my hands outstretched, trying to calm her. "There's nothing I can do now."

"What a bitch, though," she says, folding her arms.

"Uh didn't you want to work on our Calculus homework?" Mingi says, clearly trying his best to steer her away from any more talk of beating up Ms. Lee.

I go back to my sketch while the pair start on their homework. For awhile we all work in silence, me sketching on my bed and the pair sitting on the floor on their laptops. The silence slowly starts to turn into muffled chatter, and then into Sooyoung's high pitch giggling. I peek over the edge of my bed to catch a glimpse Sooyoung doing an over-exaggerated laugh to whatever Mingi had just said.

"Wait, Jae, where are you going?" Mingi asks.

Neither of them had noticed me climb down from my bed and head for the door.

"Uh, I'm just going to go for a walk," I say to the pair. If I was being honest, I couldn't take the sound of them cooing over each other any longer. "I'm not really getting anywhere on my portrait," I say gesturing to the sketchpad I had abandoned on my bed.

"Don't be out too late," Sooyoung says to me with a wink. She then proceeds to grab Mingi by the chin and direct his gaze from me back to her.

I roll my eyes as I walk out of the room and shut the door. It was probably for my own good to leave. I really didn't know where I was going to go, but I was thankful that I grabbed my headphones before I left. I slip in my earbuds and make my way out of the dorm.

It was early evening as I walked across campus. The warm air felt nice on my skin in contrast to the cold, air-conditioned dorm room. I find a nice grassy area full of park benches under a canopy of trees that was across from one of the dining halls and plop myself down in the shaded area beneath a large tree. I watch the many students walking by for awhile. A few others were sitting amongst the grass like I was. I turn my music up a little louder and lie back on the ground, staring up at the sky between the tree branches. I close my eyes and let the sound of the music coming from my headphones fill my mind.

I don't know how long it's been before I feel a presence standing over me. My eyes flutter open.

"AH, what the hell?!" I yell in shock. I jolt upward, tangling myself in my headphones.

"Woah, Jaemin! It's me!"

I am just about to throw an upward kick in the direction of the figure before I recognize the voice.

"...San?"

"Ha, yeah. Sorry if I woke you," he says quickly. "Here let me help." He kneels down next to me and helps me untangle my headphones that had gotten stuck in my hair.

"Thanks," I say a little flustered. "Uh, sorry I almost roundhouse kicked you."

"Hey, it's okay. I don't blame you," he says with a chuckle. "I kind of snuck up on you anyway.  Mind if I sit?"

"Oh no, of course not," I say. I pat the ground next to me. He sits down, placing his bookbag on his other side. "Did you just get out of class?" I ask.

"Yeah. A Monday night-class is going to be rough," He says while running a hand through his hair.  

I had only just realized that it was now dusk. 

How long had I been asleep? 

"I'm lucky you found me here, I might have slept out here all night," I say to him, laughing at myself.

"What were you doing out here?" he asks me, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I needed a break from sketching. And my dorm room was getting a bit... crowded."

"What were you sketching?"

"A portrait for one of my classes."

"You have homework already?" he asks, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, unfortunately," I sigh.

I look around and notice that we are virtually the only ones on this side of campus. The sun had almost fully set, and there were fireflies lazily floating above the grass. Lampposts along the sidewalk had begun to glow brighter as the sun sank lower and lower into the horizon.

"This is a nice spot you found here," he says, glancing around in the growing darkness at the surrounding trees.

"It reminds me of home," I say a little quietly.

"Do you miss it? Home, I mean?" he asks looking over to me. Even in the dark, I can see his silvery-gray eyes staring at me intently.

I pause for a few seconds. "I miss my parents."

San looks forward again and I can't quite read his expression. "What are they like?" he asks, turning back to gaze at me.

It takes everything in me to not mindlessly stare at his face like a dumbass, but I somehow find the words.  "Well, they had me a little later in life, so they're a bit older.  I'm an only child, so It was always just the three of us.  They both work really hard and I know I don't thank them enough for all that they gave me..." I trail off.

"Tell me more," he says.

I want to sarcastically say that there's really no need for him to pretend to care about my life, but the genuine look of interest in his eyes and stops me.  "Uh, well we lived in a little house that was lowkey in the middle of a forest.  We all loved being outside, I remember that being a big part of my childhood.  I think that's why I gravitate towards places like this," I say, gesturing around to the canopy of trees.  

"I wish I grew up away from the city," he says, looking around to where I gestured. "It’s always just so... loud"

"It's not as great as it sounds. Why'd you think I moved so far away for college?"

"Well, why did you leave?"

I pause. "Well... as much as I liked the area I grew up in and miss my parents.... I just needed to get out."

"Get out?"

"Yeah... there was just nothing there for me. Nothing compared to all the opportunities there are here in the city. I just didn't want to get stuck." I stare at San, who is looking at me with his silver eyes. "I don't know if that makes any sense. Sorry for kinda rambling I-"

"No no don't apologize!" he says quickly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I like listening to people talk. About anything."

I try my hardest to ignore the tingling sensation that lingered once he removed his hand from my shoulder. "Well, I appreciate it."

We go back and forth for a while, him asking me questions about my life at home, my history with Sooyoung, my hobbies, etc.  Then the topic turned to music.

"Wait, wait, wait.. you like EXO?" San's eyes widen.

"Yeah! That's what I was listening to before I fell asleep."  

"I saw them live the last time they went on tour!" he says excitedly.

"Woah, that's lucky."

"It was a great show... do you mind?" he asks, pointing towards my headphones.

I give him a confused look as he grabs my headphones. He places one earbud in his ear and reaches to place the other in my ear.  His hand lingers slightly, then moves to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. My eyes dart from him, to his hand, to my phone that he is now holding.

Say something, you idiot.

"Can I play a song?" he asks, a soft smile on his lips.

"Uh.. yeah of course." 

He scrolls for a little bit and then plays one of the other EXO songs I had saved.  I watch him as he starts to hum along to the melody.  

We stay like that for a while, each choosing a few songs as we watched the remainder of the sun sink beneath the trees.  Although we were just sitting there listening to the music, it didn’t feel awkward at all. 

“Well I guess we should probably get going,” he says, checking his watch. 

The sun was fully gone now. 

“Thanks again for waking me up,” I say as I get up from my seat on the ground. 

He chuckles and stands up, grabbing his bag. “It was really no problem. We should do this again sometime.” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

“This tree,” he nods to where we had both just been sitting. “It could be a nice spot to relax, bring friends here, just hang out ya know?”

I try to ignore the ever so slight annoyance at the word “friends”. 

Did you actually expect anything? You just met. 

“No yeah, of course,” I say quickly.  

We both say our goodbyes and head in the opposite direction of our dorms. 

“Hey wait!!” 

I turn to see him jogging back to me. 

“I want to make sure you get home okay, could you like, text me when you get back to your dorm?” 

I pause. “I mean I would if I had your number,” I say with a slight smirk. 

He blinks, and then laughs. “Oh, you didn’t notice? I put my number in your phone while I was changing one of the songs,” he puts air quotes around the last five words.  

I gasp, mouth fully hanging open. 

“It’s under Choi San fox emoji,” he says casually. 

“You- you really-” I stutter. 

He laughs again. “Goodnight, Jaemin.” 

...

When I finally get back to my dorm Sooyoung is in bed with the lights off, scrolling on her phone. 

“Where were you? I was just about to call the police or something.”

“Oh, I just went for a walk,” I say casually.

“Well next time tell me where you are, okay?” She says all this without looking up from her phone. 

“Yeah, of course,” I say as I crawl into my bunk, only to find the unfinished sketch I had abandoned earlier.   

prev // next

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez au #ateez college au #ateez scenarios #ateez writing #ateez fan fic #ateez y/n #choi san y/n #choi san scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #san #wooyoung #jongho #atiny #ateez atiny #ateez reactions #to be continued

[entomycetic]

BUST AU - Timeskip Moon Base (+other headcanons)

(Made a previous post about my The Space Between Us AU that I’m now calling BUST AU; all you need to know is Steven grew up in the Moon Base, which was remodeled over time to look more like a proper home.) “Here’s an AU that I won’t develop beyond this synopsis!” *immediately spends the entire night world building* ....Seriously its almost 8am, I haven’t left my computer since I made the first BUST post like 9 hours ago or somethin oops- Anyways, I really wanted to design how the moon base house looked in my head! Though after I drew it out, I realized it might be more suitable as a timeskip, when Steven had more say in how it was constructed, and was held more responsible for taking care of himself. I SUPER wanna revisit this and actually make a background for each room, but now is Not The Time, so here’s the general idea!

I wanted to get a sense of scale first, so here’s just the practice of getting the interior down! I used a bunch of screenshots to make an educated guess on the measurements, and boy howdy that is a LOT of room...

And here’s the (timeskipped) house version! (The holes on the far wall allow a platform elevator to efficiently transport people up and down the house, courtesy of Peridot and Pearl’s handiwork.) I went HAM on the decoration man, I’ll explain this chicken scratch bottom to top:

Warp Room

The entrance and exit! The warp pad was placed in its own room so the warp light doesn’t blind anyone. It’s a personal theory that the farther the distance of warping, the stronger the light; and the moon is pretty far!

The Gems bring back as many cool finds as they can to help decorate the space (making sure the sharper things are securely fastened out of reach). Along with this, Steven decorates with his own art and posters that he buys online. 

The Gems made sure to insulate and wall up the murals; they didn’t need him asking about the Diamonds so soon. Some furniture lines the outer wall with maps and books strewn all across them; Steven prefers to be home schooled down here, and it’s also where the Gems usually plan for missions that they want Steven to join. Steven also brought a bunch of flowers down, helping fill in the giant room.

Next to the door is a pair of homemade (but reliable) astronaut suits; they aren’t used very often though, since there’s not much to see outside. The main door used to be locked entirely, until a second airlock was fitted inside.

Kitchen/Living Room

To the left is the general living room area, to the right is the kitchen. The Gems were able to set up electricity, water lines, sewage, the WHOLE package!

The dining table usually has 5 chairs set up, but they keep some extra foldable chairs leaned against the cabinet- just in case.

A large rug, coffee table, two mismatched couches, and a cluttered bookshelf in the living room; long counters, overhead cabinets full of canned goods, a fridge, sink, and microwave oven in the kitchen.

Bathroom/’Shed’

For the sake of privacy, this floor is separated into two rooms with a hallway in the middle. Steven took the liberty of decorating it with a nice table and a flower.

As standard a bathroom you can fined on the moon, on the left- tub/shower combo, a short counter with a sink, a mirror, toilet, standalone closet with ‘typical’ bathroom supplies

Currently, the ‘shed’ is full of books, games, and beanbags; whatever Steven’s family think he might find fun usually ends up here. 

Steven built a little loft area as his first big addition to the house, which he’s proud of; only him and Amethyst have the guts to hang out up there, though. A small TV is used for his video games and movies; he can’t really get a signal for cable on the moon, but he can always watch new movies in theaters in the observatory.

Greenhouse

As it’s titled, where at least half the plants in the house are kept!

This area might have gotten the most upgrades, with Peridot’s help; with regulators and efficient plant lights, this farm and outdoor area is much easier to take care of nowadays.

The first ‘layer’ is a grassy area with a small oak tree and a pond with a few fish.

The ‘shelf’ floors act as a farm, with a variety of crops growing all year round in assorted wall hanging planters.

Plant lights hand down from the shelf floors; the brightest hang above the open area, so the tree gets enough light. Solar panels now line a majority of the outer walls of the base to power the house.

Observatory

Almost the same as it was when the Gems first started renovating; the only difference being the entrance/exit being changed to a different spot. Steven uses this room less ever since he’s been able to visit Earth more, but before then it might’ve been the room he spent the most time in.

Bedroom

The diamond seat was turned into a bed; with some custom-made support between the edge of the seat and the edge of the control panel, a mattress was able to be placed inside; the back of the seat and the control panel acting as the head and foot of the bed. As cool as the view is, Steven placed a removable veil over his bed for when he wants to pretend he isn’t entirely isolated from humanity.

I like to think it’s similar to the conservatory seen in the movie, with beanbags and flowerpots.

Furniture like a dresser and bookshelf was placed on the wall facing away from Earth; his desk faces the Earth. He also made a removable background curtain, so when his friends that don’t know he lives on the moon decide to video call, he doesn’t have to answer many questions.

He has a few hundred feet of string lights hung above everything, kind of like a spiderweb. Pearl calls it a fire hazard, Steven calls it necessary for the aesthetic

There’s all the rooms, now time for some other random headcanons!

Can you tell that I like Steven likes beanbags?

Steven picked up a LOT of hobbies since he had so much alone time; his most frequent being singing/playing instruments, gardening, reading, and art. The gardening helps him take care of the greenhouse, and his art decorates a lot of wall space. He’d have probably picking up cooking if he didn’t have to rely so much on others getting the ingredients for him.

Steven keeps a beanbag in the observatory; he could and does spend hours sightseeing. As fascinated as he is by society, he tries to respect peoples’ privacy as best he can, and doesn’t spy on his friends and family altogether.

A lot of the stuff to build was stolen or taken from garbage; Greg was impressed, exasperated, and afraid for his son when Amethyst told him this. (Amethyst still brings stuff for the house to this day; the foldable chairs, some of Steven’s posters, the living room rug,etc.)

The amount of hours he’s sunk into people watching has inadvertently made him REALLY good at lip reading.

Steven isn’t entirely vegetarian, but a good majority of what he eats comes from the farm in the greenhouse; it’s easy to tend to and is right at home!

The greenhouse used to be Steven’s favorite place to hang out, but seeing the human zoo kind of disturbed him; he still loves it since it’s his home and he likes tending to his plants, but he subconsciously avoids staying there for as long as he used to. (...remind me to never try to do half-assed-and-failed gravity math at 4am ever again. also. heheheh could write some fluffy qpr connverse....or something dramatic like the warp pad breaking...hehehehehehe maybe later tho when i aint dead)

#steven universe #su #steven universe au #the space between us #su bust au #mycoart #mycoau #mynotatian

[takerfoxx]

RD Walpurgis Nights 8, Part 12

Then…

The further they got into Freehaven, the happier Kriemhild was that this was to be their new home.

It was…nice. Oh, it was beautiful. It was strange in a mystical sort of way. It was lovely and peaceful-looking and fascinating and just seemed like a wonderful place to live.

But overall, it was nice. It was pretty weird, but it wasn’t over-the-top with it. It was beautiful, but not intimidatingly so. It felt kind and welcoming, if a city could be said to be kind and welcoming. And as strange and wonderful as it seemed, it also felt like a place where people actually lived.

Most of the building were tall and pretty close together, but the place that they were led was wide and open. There was a large, three-story building that sat in a white-stone plaza. It had the same white walls and red roof that the rest of the place did, though it had a high tower in the front, and two more towers on either side. The area surrounding it reminded Kriemhild of a school, with sports courts, a swimming pool, a grassy field, a garden, and a concrete quad with tables and umbrellas.

“That’s it,” said the woman leading them. “The Freehaven Integration Bureau. That’s where you all will be staying for now.”

“For now?” said one of the girls. “Like, for how long? And doing what?”

“A little of everything. It’s there to help girls like you learn about your new life and get used to things. And it doubles as a school so you won’t lose out on your education.”

“What! Seriously? We’re supposed to be dead! We still have to go to school even though we’re dead? Like, how is that fair?”

“We’re not dead, don’t you believe it,” muttered another girl.

The woman smiled patiently. “This way, please.”

“Come on,” Kriemhild said, tugging on Homulilly’s hand.

After the bad encounter on that plane…helicopter…thingy, Homulilly had managed to get her hands on a pair of full-arm gloves, ones that covered her all the way from her shoulders to her hands. Personally, Kriemhild felt that she shouldn’t need them. After all, they had already seen several people just as weird as she was walking openly. Heck, Kriemhild herself was just as weird, and no one gave her any problem with her legs.

Still, that was Homulilly’s choice to make, so Kriemhild just held her hand and kept her near. She had a feeling that her friend was finding everything to be a lot scarier than she was.

One of the other girls, a white girl with long, blonde hair, kept glancing at them. As they entered the building, she sidled up to the pair.

“Hey,” she said. “You guys are witches too, right?”

Kriemhild brightened at that. “We sure are!”

“Cool! I was afraid I was going to be the only one. I like your…legs, by the way. Bet you can get some distance with those.”

“Oh, well, yes.” Gretchen bobbled up and down a bit. “It’s pretty exhilarating. What’s your thing?”

The girl smirked. She tilted her head to one side and tapped her neck. “You know, I think I’ll save that for later. But trust me, it’s a riot.” She stuck out her hand. “The name’s Lucy, by the way.”

Kriemhild had already started to bow in greeting, but then stopped. Oh yeah, that was how people from other parts of the world greeted each other. “Er, Kriemhild Gretchen!” she said as she shook Lucy’s hand.

Lucy stared back. “Krimpled Gretchen?”

Homulilly, who had been hanging back, suddenly looked up.

“No!” Kriemhild said with a laugh. “Kriemhild!”

“Uh, okay. Hey, is it okay if I just call you ‘Gretchen’? Because your first name’s kind of a mouthful.”

“You can’t learn her name?” Homulilly said. “Why is that so-”

“Homulilly, it’s okay!” Kriemhild said. She turned to Lucy, who looked a little taken back by the sudden antagonism. “Sure! I was actually thinking of just going by that anyway.”

“Er, okay!” Lucy coughed into her hand. “Nice to meet you!”

As she hurried away, Homulilly turned to Gretchen with a frown. “Why not just have her use your full name?”

Gretchen made a face. “Er, I was actually going to talk to you about that.”

“Huh?”

“I was thinking of just going by ‘Gretchen.’”

“What? Why?”

Gretchen shrugged. “Well, because I think it sounds kind of nicer. Besides, I already had like three people mess up ‘Kriemhild,’ so it’ll just make it easier.”

Homulilly didn’t respond. She just stared.

“But you can call me whatever you want!” Gretchen said hastily. “I don’t mind!”

“Huh,” Homulilly said. “You really rather be called by your second name?”

“Kind of. Yeah.”

“Oh. Um, okay. I guess I can get used to it then.”

Gretchen smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “Come on,” she said. The ground was starting to get pretty far ahead. “Let’s go see what this new world has for us.”

…

Now…

All in all, Ophelia did not consider herself to be missing out on whatever biological functions she had lost when she ceased to be, well, biological.

Periods? That was one of the first things they learned to get their bodies to stop doing. Aging? Forever young, hell yeah! Boys? Girls were so much prettier and they had boobs. Injuries that didn’t just fix themselves in a few minutes? The constant risk of death itself? Surely, it need not be explained why neither of them were missed.

Still, if she were to be truly honest, the one thing that she couldn’t fault those she knew for feeling cheated out of was the opportunity to become a mother, even if it wasn’t something she herself felt strongly about. Sure, it was probably a lot of hassle and heartbreak and way too much responsibility with no real guarantee that things would even work out, but there really was something attractive about creating a tiny person, helping them grow and mature, watching them develop an actual personality and interests of their own, seeing them make the same mistakes that you once made and deal with problems that you once thought world-ending but now feel trite in hindsight. And as someone who knew enough about her past to realize that her own upbringing had been…spotted, she did at times wish that she had the opportunity to correct that karma wheel, to do the good by her own child that wasn’t done for her.

However, being a parent had several significant drawbacks that she also had to acknowledge, and one of them was having to deal with the fallout when your kid had gone and done something really stupid and gotten themselves into an incredible amount of trouble. And as she approached the Militia headquarters to collect a certain Kriemhild Gretchen and Homulilly, she realized that she had never felt more like a parent than she did in that moment.

A very angry parent.

On the bright side, at least they weren’t locked up. Instead, they were sitting together along the wall in the front lobby, with a slightly bored marshal standing watch over them. The two had their heads bowed, and Gretchen’s legs had twisted themselves into so many knots that it would be a wonder if she was even still able to walk.

As Ophelia entered the lobby, Homulilly reflexively glanced up. As soon as she saw who it was, her face reddened and she quickly looked down again. Gretchen just gave her the quickest of glances and winced.

Ophelia, however, did not immediately look away. She stared right at them, eyes narrowed, until the weight of her gaze literally started to bend their shoulders. Oh yeah, they knew that they were in trouble.

Then she turned her attention to the receptionist, who looked just as bored as her coworker.

“Hello,” Ophelia said, her tone cool and professional. “I am Ophelia, and I am here to collect the two smog vapors in the corner there.”

“Hmmm. Hoe-kay.” Not even bothering to correct her slouch, the receptionist tapped a couple keys on her terminal. A pair of marshal reports suddenly materialized in the air in front of Ophelia, one of them containing a very unhappy looking Homulilly and the other an equally morose Gretchen. Next to each of their pictures was a rundown of the charges, which amounted to misdemeanors for breaking and entering of the Freehaven Integration Bureau and participating in the sabotage of their security system, and another for absconding with a special case new arrival, reduced from a felony charge due to the new arrival’s quick return.

“Bail for the pair comes out to seven thousand talents,” the receptionist said. Ophelia winced. It was certainly affordable, but also far beyond the amount she was used to dropping all at one time. Another readout appeared next to the girls’ records, this one providing details of their bail requirements. “As the poster you will then be responsible for the defendants’ behavior until their court date, which you will be notified of within twenty-four hours. I assume that they will be in your care until then?”

“Oh, most definitely yes.” Ophelia pulled out her bank card and slid it into the glowing receptacle on the desk.

“Mmmm-hmmm. Mark here.” A flashing octagon appear at bottom of the holographic display. Ophelia pulled off one glove and stuck her thumb into it. The octagon turned green.

The receptionist swiped her hand through the hologram, and it all immediately collected into a tiny glowing ball hovering over her thumb. She picked up a data crystal and stuck the ball into it. The crystal started glowing orange.

“The defendants have been fitted with tracking implants, and will neither be allowed to leave the city nor enter the FIB protected zone until told otherwise,” the receptionist said as she handed the data crystal to Ophelia. “Any further misdemeanors in that time will result in immediate incarceration with a new bail of nine thousand credits, and another two thousand for each additional misdemeanor. Felonies will result in the complete removal of bail entirely until their court date, and will be judged alongside the current charges.”

“Okay, but what if they behave themselves and show up when they’re supposed to? Can I get my bail back?”

The receptionist shrugged. “If found innocent, then yes. But considering they were kind of caught red-handed, then that’s up to the courts.”

“Ah.” Ophelia cast a sidelong look at the two defendants in question. Both of whom, it must be noted, were finding the patterns of the floor tiles to be extremely fascinating. “I see.”

Moments later Ophelia was seven thousand talents poorer and a great deal angrier. She pocketed the data crystal and made her way over to the pair. The marshal standing watch over them simply tilted her head toward them and shrugged before departing.

However, Ophelia didn’t leave with them immediately. She had just paid a hefty amount of money for her moral high ground, and by whatever nameless prehistorical magical girl that had wished her world into existence, she was going to get her money’s worth.

So she stood there, looming over them with her arms crossed, the fingers of her right hand tapping out a rhythm against her bicep.

As cheery and flamboyant as Ophelia normally was, she prided herself on having a fantastic glower, which she was now turning the full force toward the two criminals now under her care. And they felt it too. Their heads remained bowed, but their shoulders seemed to drop a few centimeters, Gretchen’s legs untangled themselves to lay flat like soggy noodles, and the petals of Homulilly’s flower actually started to wilt.

Ophelia kept the heat on until their discomfort was as palpable as her anger. Then she kept it going for another thirty seconds.

“Okay,” she said at last, making Gretchen visibly flinch. “Let’s go.”

She turned and headed for the door. She didn’t need to check to see if they were following. She could hear Homulilly’s heavy footsteps and the patter of Gretchen’s legs.

The Militia headquarters was nestled in the heart of the city, sitting on the boundary of the FIB protected zone, so it was a pretty long walk back to Ladoga. Sure, they could have taken the roofways, or even called for a zipper. But Ophelia needed time to stew, so they walked.

And walked.

And walked.

Partway there, Gretchen suddenly cleared her throat. “Um, O-Ophelia. I-”

Ophelia whirled perfectly on her heel and stamped her other foot down, bringing herself to a sudden stop after a hundred and eighty degrees.

“What?” she barked.

Gretchen winced. “N-Never mind. Sorry.”

Snorting, Ophelia turned back around again and plodded forward without another a word.

Finally they left the tall buildings and narrows streets and entered the winding cobblestone paths and thick foliage of Ladoga. Ophelia remained silent as she led the pair all the way to the fence, down the front path, up the patio stairs, and opened the door.

Oktavia was in her mechanized chair next to the stairs, and Candeloro was sitting in her easy chair. The two of them immediately straightened up as the trio entered, their faces full of questions.

There would be plenty of time for that later. Her hand still on the knob, Ophelia stood to one side and motioned with her hand for Homulilly and Gretchen to enter. They did so as slowly and heavily like the soon-to-be condemned that they undoubtedly felt like. Once they were fully inside, Ophelia shut the door and locked it.

“All right,” she said to the pair. “Sit.”

Homulilly and Gretchen hesitated for half a second, and then hurried over to the couch. They sat down with their heads bowed and hands in their laps, exactly the same way as they had done on the Militia bench.

“So,” Ophelia said as she removed her hat and placed it on the waiting hatstand. She walked over to stand across from the pair with the tea table between them. “This is an unexpected turn. You’d think I’d be used to them by now, considering how our week has been going, but honestly the two of you getting yourselves arrested is a new one. I sure as hell did not see this coming.” She glanced over to her girlfriend, who was parked right next to her. “How about you, Oktavia? You see this coming?”

“Nope,” the mermaid said. “Absolutely blindsided here.”

“Completely out of the blue,” Ophelia agreed.

“No warning whatsoever.”

“We just-” Gretchen started to say.

“You just wanted to find Charlotte because you were worried that she would leave us and be gone forever,” Ophelia coldly finished for her. “You felt that if you could get to her, you might be able to talk some sense into her. But since you had no idea where she was, you decided to start using your friend Hitomi Shizuki’s powers for good and get taken straight to her. Do I have the right of it?”

Gretchen’s head dropped again. “Yes,” she mumbled.

Ophelia sighed. “Well, congratulations. It worked. Charlotte called about an hour ago, and she and Candeloro are meeting face-to-face tomorrow.”

“But…then it worked!” Homulilly said, perking up. “We saved the family!”

“Yes. It worked,” Ophelia agreed. “You know what else worked?”

“Uh…” Homulilly and Gretchen said in unison.

“You successfully getting that intern that you shanghaied into helping you fired! There goes her chosen career. And probably someone else as well once they’ve finished their investigation! You two now have a record, so that’ll make any future job prospects kind of difficult. You made Hitomi take you to Charlotte without even knowing where Charlotte even was! What if she was someplace incredibly dangerous? What if you had gotten attacked? And…” Ophelia pulled out the data crystal and summoned up the list above her palm. “Oh yeah, the FIB was really pissed about this one. You roped one of the newly arrived, someone who has already proven herself to be extremely fragile emotionally and possibly even mentally, into your scheme!” She closed her fist, banishing the floating readout. “Do I even need to list all the different ways this could have fucked her up in the long term? Say what you want about all the things she’s done, but I thought we all agreed that the best place for her was at the FIB, getting help! But as soon as she was actually doing that, you go and yank her right out! Do you have any idea how fragile the trust is between them and her is right now?”

Homulilly opened her mouth. “But-”

“Take the whole last week out of the equation,” Ophelia said. “Take yourselves and your history with her and put it aside. Now, think back to your own time in the FIB. Think about all the times you’ve seen the newly arrived and how messed up they were over losing their family, losing their homes, and oh yeah, having fucking violently died pretty recently. Now, imagine that you heard that a couple of jackasses from the town decided to sneak into where one of the worst cases was being kept and twisted her arm into using her powers to help solve one of their personal problems. What would you think of those people.”

Gretchen winced. “Well…”

“YOU’D THINK THAT WAS A REALLY FUCKED UP THING TO DO!” Ophelia all but roared.

“But we just asked!” Homulilly wailed. “We didn’t force her or anything.”

Ophelia fixated her glower upon her. “Oh yeah? So you didn’t use her history against her at all? I know you have your own issues with the kid. You’re going to tell me that you didn’t use any of that to help, ahem, convince her.”

To this she got no answer, which was enough of an answer for her.

Ophelia continued. “And here’s another thing: I know we’re all upset over Charlotte having come down with a bad case of the stupid, but it’s CHARLOTTE! Yeah, she can get really stubborn and pigheaded, but odds are that after she had some time to herself to cool down and think about things, she would have come back on her own!”

At this, Homulilly scowled. “Do you know that for a fact?”

“No, I do not!” Ophelia snapped. “Just like you didn’t know that your scheme wouldn’t have gotten all three of you hurt! Or that you wouldn’t have made things worse and driven her off completely!”

Okay, now Ophelia’s smoldering anger was starting to erupt into white-hot fury. So she plopped down into her big red chair and slumped forward, fingertips pressed into her temples as she slowly breathed in and out, gradually getting her emotions back under control.

Once she felt that she had cooled off enough, Ophelia said, “Look. I know you two had the best of intentions. I know you got good hearts and were only doing what you thought you had to for our sake. But good intentions and good results don’t necessarily excuse bad actions. And I’m betting you knew that going in. You probably told a lot of people that if you did get caught, you two would take all the blame. Am I right?”

Gretchen swallowed. “Yes,” she said in a small voice. “We’re prepared to accept whatever consequences you might have for us.”

“Me?” Ophelia sighed. “Aw fuck. What am I gonna do, ground you?”

Then Oktavia cleared her throat. “You know, you technically can.”

“Huh? They’re adults now! Besides, they’re not my kids, I don’t own them.”

“How much did you pay to bail them out?”

Ophelia hadn’t thought of that. “Huh. Well, that’s a good point. I guess I do own you now.”

Gretchen let out one of her frightened squeaks. Homulilly said nothing at all, though her face was now almost the same shade of white as Charlotte’s.

Ophelia mulled on that possibility for a bit, but then shook her head. No, grounding was for kids. This was an adult situation, which called for an adult response.

Besides, as pissed off as she was, she couldn’t deny the results.

“All right, I want you to understand that I am still very angry and very disappointed,” she said at last. “And I don’t like being either of those things, so that makes me frustrated on top of everything else. But I would be lying if I said that I’m also not…” she sighed, “incredibly grateful that you pulled it off. Despite anything I might have said out of anger these last few days, I wanted Charlotte back as much as anyone else, and it looks like that’ll happen.

Both of the girls started to relax a little, but they froze when they saw the look that Ophelia was shooting them.

“But that still doesn’t let you two off the hook,” Ophelia said. “So, here’s how it’s going to go: when we finally get your court date, you two are going to show up, apologize profusely, and accept whatever consequences they give you. Maybe they’ll just let you off with a warning and probation, though considering that the FIB is involved and they take this sort of thing very seriously, I really doubt that. So maybe you’ll have to pay a fine. Maybe you’ll be given community service. Hell, maybe you’ll have to do a little time.

Homulilly gulped. “We might go to jail?”

“Yah,” Ophelia said, staring at her. “That’s what happens when you fuck with the single most protected class in town. They’re probably going to completely revamp security in that whole zone, so future generations will have you girls to thank for the sudden lack of freedom.”

“We didn’t think of that,” Homulilly said, her petals wilting.

“Yeah. Hey. No shit.” Ophelia looked from Homulilly’s face to Gretchen’s. “So, we in agreement here?”

“Yes,” Gretchen said without hesitation.

Ophelia nodded. “That’s one of you. Homulilly?”

“Agreed.”

“Thank you. Now, after the dust have finally settled-”

“But,” Homulilly said, interrupting her. “I’d still do it again. If it meant getting any of you back, I’d do it again.”

Ophelia straightened up in her chair. Her fingers dug into the armrests. She said nothing.

Neither did Homulilly. She returned Ophelia’s stare without blinking.

While that was most definitely not what Ophelia had wanted to hear, she had to admit to being a little impressed. Homulilly had come a long way from the quivering little girl who hated to even go outside by herself. She had some real tough vapors in her gut, Ophelia had to give her that.

Ophelia considered making an issue of that little comment, but then decided against it. She had said her piece. Arguing further wouldn’t help.

“As I was saying,” Ophelia said at last. “Once the dust has finally settled, let’s also agree to put this whole dumb dumbness behind us. In the meantime, I have a lawyer to talk to.” She stood up and headed for the door, grabbing her hat on the way. “Jesus, I need leashes for all y’all, just to keep everything from devolving into pure anarchy! I’m supposed to be the rebel! When the hell did I stop being the rebel?”

With that, she was out the door, slamming it hard behind her.

…

Back inside, Homulilly and Gretchen finally let themselves relax a little. Holy crap, they knew that Ophelia was tough, but they hadn’t known her to be that scary.

“That…I guess it could have gone worse,” Gretchen said.

“Not by a lot,” Homulilly muttered.

“Still. At least she didn’t kick us out.”

Homulilly didn’t respond to that. The now very real possibility of going to jail was still looming all too fresh in her mind.

She glanced up at Oktavia, who was still reclining in her chair, watching the pair with a mixture of pity and disappointment.

“Well, don’t look at me,” Oktavia said. “I’m on her side.”

“I’m sorry,” Gretchen said. “We didn’t-”

“Ugh,” Oktavia said, making a face. “Let’s wait until we know what’s going to happen before we get to that. Though, uh, Homulilly?”

“What?”

“Now that you also did something really rash because you didn’t want to lose someone you loved, how about you give Hitomi a break if she ends up becoming a part of our lives in the future?”

Homulilly slowly breathed out. “I already talked to her about that. We’re fine. No more grudges.”

“Okay, good,” Oktavia nodded. She touched the control panel on her armrest, moving her chair in motion toward the door Ophelia had just stormed out of. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed to the studio. Ophelia did all the yelling despite promising that I’d get in a lick or two, so now I got all this angry aggression to burn off. I’m thinking…thrash metal.”

For the second time in half-an-hour, the door slammed. Homulilly and Gretchen were left alone.

Alone…with Candeloro.

Candeloro, it should be noted, had been sitting in silence the entire time. She had stayed silent during Ophelia’s entire lecture, she had stayed silent when things had gotten heated, she had stayed silent when Homulilly had started to talk back, she had stayed silent when Ophelia had left, and she had stayed silent when Oktavia had chimed in with her own piece.

But now that the two of them were gone, she finally raised her head and turned toward Homulilly and Gretchen.

Unlike Ophelia and Oktavia, she didn’t look the slightest bit angry. Quite the contrary, she was positively beaming. It was the first time Homulilly had seen her happy since…their graduation day, actually.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m not mad at you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you. Thank you so…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. They understood. Homulilly and Gretchen exchanged a quick look. Then, as one, they got up and went over to where Candeloro was crying and embraced her.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Gretchen whispered.

Candeloro shook her head. “No. She said she just wanted to talk to me. But, um, when you talked to her, did she say why she…”

Homulilly shook her head. “She doesn’t really believe that you’re Candeloro. She thinks that you’re just Mami Tomoe.”

“I thought as much,” Candeloro sighed. “How did you get her to change her mind? About talking to me, I mean.”

Gretchen winced. “Um, guilt trip, basically.”

That made Candeloro laugh. “I guess I can’t argue with the results.” She wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I just hope that I’m as effective.”

Gretchen sat up on Candeloro’s armrests. “You know her better than anyone alive,” she said, squeezing Candeloro’s shoulder. “Well, I mean, better than anyone living…existing…you know what I mean! Just make her see you as you.”

Candeloro swallowed back the lump in her throat. “What if I can’t though? I do know Charlotte, and you know how stubborn she is!”

Homulilly sighed. She straightened up on the other armrest. “Then…I don’t know. I guess if she won’t listen now, then just say something that’ll get stuck in her head, something that’ll make her change her mind later. I mean, Ophelia did say that she might just need some time to think about things.”

“I hope so,” Candeloro said softly. “I don’t know how I’m going to face all this without her.”

…

The next day…

The first time Candeloro and Charlotte had gone on a date, Candeloro hadn’t even realized that it was a date until about a third of the way in.

It had been a few months since her friends had bound together to intervene in her cycle of depression and drunkenness. Getting her to get off the drink had taken a lot of coaxing and support, but they had succeeded. Unfortunately, it hadn’t done much for her feelings of shame and self-loathing, and since she no longer had anything to drown them with, they had filled her every waking moment, until it had started to become too much of a chore to even get out of bed.

That had been when Charlotte had stepped in. One day, she had told Candeloro that they were going for a walk, and that was that. Candeloro had been fully prepared to ignore her, but Charlotte had insisted, coaxing her out of bed, to get cleaned up, to get changed, to eat a full breakfast, and then to go with her out the door. And Candeloro had gone along with it mostly because she couldn’t summon up enough willpower to resist. What did it matter?

The walk had ended up being a lot longer than Candeloro had thought it would be. Instead of around the facility grounds Charlotte had led her all the way out of the protected zone and down to the town square. Charlotte had talked nonstop, going on and on about their classes, about some new book she had read, about something funny that Oktavia had said, about some weird alien fact she had just learned about.

Candeloro hadn’t been very responsive at first. She was mostly just humoring Charlotte, after all. But after a while Charlotte ended up saying a few things that she found interesting. Then she began to respond. Then she began to engage. And before too long, they were having an actual conversation, like they used to have before Candeloro had made her big mistake.

By then Candeloro had started to feel much better. And by the time they gone out for lunch she almost felt like her normal self again. But it wasn’t until they had stopped by an ice cream stand and walked along the boardwalk while the sun set over the beach that Candeloro became aware that this walk was becoming a lot more intimate than hangouts they had had in the past. Furthermore, Charlotte was holding her hand.

Right about then was when she started to put things together.

It was one of her happiest memories, in part because for the simple fact of being their first date, but also because it was a time of pure happiness following the darkest point in her life. The town square always had a special place in her heart after that.

It was darkly fitting then that after being the place that her relationship had begun it would end up possibly being the place that it shattered to pieces.

The town square was a large, open plaza that lay nestled in the stretch of flat land between the foot of the hill and the beach, ringed with a short brick wall with a wide fountain in the middle. It was a popular place for town events, concerts, holiday celebrations, and pretty much anything that would require a large outdoor crowd. During the summer, the fountain would essentially become a small water park, with people splashing in the shallow water and playing among the shooting water jets. In the winter, magic would be used to make it snow in the plaza, the fountain would be frozen over into an ice skating rink, and a massive Christmas tree would be placed in its center.

Despite being in the dead of tourist season, the place was actually much less populated than usual. The storm had chased off most of the visitors that had been unlucky enough to be caught when it had hit, and had discouraged new ones from arriving. There was still a fair amount of people wandering about, but only about a third of what there normally would be. Candeloro was perfectly okay with that.

Candeloro got there at about 11:50, a full ten minutes before Charlotte said to meet her.

She stood at the entrance to the square and looked around. Per usual, people were going about their pleasant day: strolling, talking, laughing, flirting, playing, and overall just enjoying the sun, all of them completely unaware that an extreme anomaly in this world of freaks was among them. Had they known what she was, what had happened to her, she would no doubt would be swarmed by throngs of the curious, and that was if she was lucky.

On the one hand, she was thankful that nobody knew. That kind of attention was the last thing that she needed. And yet, on the other hand, she couldn’t help but be a little resentful. Her entire world had been upturned, both without and within, and here everyone was just having a nice time while being completely oblivious to the turmoil she was having to deal with. She knew it was unfair to be upset about that, but there wasn’t a whole of fair happening to her at the moment.

There was no sign of Charlotte, so she walked around until she found an empty bench and sat down. And then she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It was only ten minutes, but the perception of time was a subjective thing, and every second seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace. She could feel her hair growing. She was aware of every itch on her skin, most of them concentrated on her new arms. She tried to lay her hands on the bench’s boards on either side of her, but that felt awkward and unnatural. She then placed one on the twisting metal armrest and the other across her lap, but they wouldn’t stop twitching.

She checked the time. To her dismay, it had only been two minutes. She had worked entire full time shifts that hadn’t felt this long!

Speaking of which, she still hadn’t figured out what she was going to do about her job. She hadn’t officially quit yet, and she certainly didn’t want to, but she kind of had to, didn’t she? There was no way she could hide her new condition from her coworkers, but she also couldn’t let them in on the secret. They had already called the house twice inquiring about when she was going to come back, the first time genuinely concerned and the second a little more on the impatient side. Ophelia had taken the call both times, letting them know that Candeloro was feeling out of sorts.

She needed to let them know that she wasn’t coming back, but she really didn’t want to. They needed to know so they could find a replacement. It wasn’t fair to keep them short-handed for so long. But she felt that if she cut that part off from her life, then she would lose her last bit of her old life. Her sense of self was gone, her wife was gone, and now she was going to lose her job and all her friends there as well, one that she genuinely enjoyed. It wasn’t fair at all.

She checked the time again. 11:46. Bleh.

Wasn’t time supposed to go faster here than it was in the world of the living? Apparently, her entire life as Candeloro had been squeezed into only a few weeks over there. She wasn’t really clear on what the exchange rate was, but that meant that this infuriatingly long ten minutes was contained within the tiniest fraction of a millisecond over there.

And that meant that her new existence as Mami Tomoe had lasted only a handful of seconds probably, if that. Someone alive somewhere on Earth had probably felt a sneeze coming on when she had made the change that still hadn’t come out yet. Or maybe it had. She didn’t know.

11:48

What if Charlotte didn’t come? What if she changed her mind at the last minute? Somehow, that would be far worse than if Charlotte had shown up just to tell her that she didn’t love her anymore and didn’t want to ever see her again. At least that meant that she cared enough to do it in person. But to have Charlotte simply disappear out of her life without so much as a goodbye? That almost made Candeloro regret not just simply letting her get eaten by the karnuk. At least then she could have been recovered and not turn her back on everything once she was hauled out of the beast’s stomach.

Almost.

Candeloro’s legs started bouncing. She was wringing her fingers together and couldn’t stop. Charlotte wasn’t coming. Candeloro was going to lose her without even being given the chance to fight.

Then a tingle went down her back.

It was sort of strange how it felt to be joined to someone on a spiritual level. She and Charlotte spent so much time together that they didn’t even notice the feelings of peace and contentment that the other’s presence brought them, but the longer they spent apart, the more that the other’s absence gnawed at their minds. Spending a few hours on their own to go to work or run errands or anything like that wasn’t a problem. But after a day or two feelings of unease would start to grow, like a persistent itch that they were unable to scratch. The last few days weren’t the longest period of time they had spent apart, but they had been by far the worst. At least with the other instances Candeloro knew exactly when she would be back with Charlotte and still talked to her daily. But the constant yearning for her while not knowing if her wife was ever coming back and knowing how much she was repulsed by her had been absolutely unbearable.

But by the same token, it did mean that they both instinctively knew when the other was near. Candeloro remembered stepping off the elysian from her trip to Ordo’s Furnace and entering the Freehaven skyport. Even though she hadn’t been told where the others would be waiting for her, her head had turned automatically in their direction as she had passed by a junction. And sure enough, there they had been, with Charlotte standing in their midst like a pink-haired angel.

Candeloro did not hear Charlotte’s footsteps over the sound of the fountain. She did not see her coming. But she still knew.

Sure enough, a moment later the space next to her was filled. Candeloro glanced over. There she was, wearing tight white pants that ended right over her calves, a pink-and-black striped shirt, and pink sneakers. She had on a pair of large-lensed sunglasses and was wearing a backpack.

Save for the backpack, all of that was part of Charlotte’s usual fashion sense, and none of it had come from their closet or dresser. Charlotte had bought new clothes. She was truly prepared to leave.

Candeloro swallowed back the lump she felt forming in her throat. Charlotte was there, but she wasn’t saying anything. She wasn’t even looking at her. She was just sitting there with her hands on her knees, gaze directed out toward the horizon.

Finally Candeloro couldn’t take it anymore. Someone had to be the first to break the silence. “You came,” she said softly.

Charlotte winced visibly behind her sunglasses. “Yeah.”

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up at all.”

“I…” Charlotte sighed. “I almost didn’t.”

Candeloro swallowed. “Why? Because…I’m not worth it? Because you still think that I’m just Mami Tomoe, that I replaced Candeloro?”

“That’s…I don’t know. Maybe.”

Candeloro looked down at the ground. “I’m not, you know. I’m not just some…”

Her voice trailed off. This wasn’t working. She had worked on what she had wanted to say, had rehearsed it in her head dozens of times, but now that she was actually there, now that Charlotte was finally here, she couldn’t seem to get the words out. Her throat felt thick, and her chest seemed to tighten every time she tried to talk.

The two sat in silence, watching everyone around them as they had fun. For once the place wasn’t oppressively crowded, likely due to the aftermath of the hurricane, but there still was a lot of people milling around, the sound of their voices talking and laughing mixing with the crashing of the surf and the calls of the gulls.

It all seemed so…normal, as if nobody was at all aware of the changes that had happened in Candeloro’s life. And how could they? To them it was just another pleasant day out in the sun. How could they know that the ninth official de-witching was among them? How could they not that only a few days prior, the two of them had done battle with the alien sea-monster that had caused the beaches to be closed? How could they know that one of their most tight-knit families was on the verge of falling apart?

Change. Change and fear. It really came down to that. Their life had been one where change had been gradual and only came when expected, and fear had been practically non-existent. But throw one major curve-ball at them, and things just collapsed. It really made her question how strong those bonds had been to begin with.

“So,” she said. “Do you, uh, want to go first, or…”

Charlotte sighed.

Then she suddenly stood up, making Candeloro jerk away a bit.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Charlotte said.

…

Spying on someone in Freehaven wasn’t exactly smiled upon. Stalking was, of course, illegal, but keeping an eye on someone wasn’t, not really, though where the line between one and the other wasn’t all that well defined. Still, following someone that really would rather not be followed could get you into big trouble with the marshals, assuming that you didn’t get found out and beaten senseless first. With death a non-factor and most injuries barely worth remarking on, bodily violence actually ranked far below harassment on the felony scale, so that was always something to keep in mind.

That having been said, while stalking was a bad idea, there was nothing stopping the gang from keeping an eye on things. And since Homulilly, Gretchen, and Oktavia weren’t in any position to go anywhere at the moment, Ophelia had become the designated scout.

She stood on a rooftop in the shade of a potted palm tree, chewing on a stick of taffy as she watched the town square. She had on a pair of contacts that functioned as adjustable binoculars. All she had to do was think it, and they would zoom in and out on anything she wanted.

“Okay, Candy’s still just sitting there,” she said into her phone, which was sitting on the pot and was on speaker. “No sign of our little runaway.”

“What’s she doing?” Oktavia’s voice asked.

“I just told you, she’s just sitting there, looking all nervous! And…”

Suddenly she caught sight of a very shapely brunette with a pair of equally lovely redheads, all of them wearing the absolute minimum of clothing walking by, and judging by the way the brunette was hugging the pair of redheads close to her it was pretty evident that their shared relationship was a few degrees beyond being simply friends.

“-oh, hello!”

“What? Is it her?” Gretchen said.

“No, I know that tone,” Oktavia growled. “Ophelia! Stop checking out girls and do your damned job!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Ophelia refocused on Candeloro. “Okay, still no sign of…hang on.” She turned her attention to one of the side entrances to the square. “Oh, wait, wait, wait, there she is. The jackass is in the house.”

“Is she with anyone?” Gretchen said.

“Nope. Just her, and a really stupid pair of sunglasses.”

“I don’t think anyone that wears your kind of hat is in any position to make fun of anyone’s taste in fashion,” Oktavia said.

“Shut up. My hat may be stupid, but I rock it.” Not today though. Her big, red slouch hat was too much of a giveaway, so she had on that baseball cap she had gotten from the Aurora Borealis. “Okay, she’s seen Candy. And…yup, she’s heading right for her. This is happening.”

Ophelia watched as Charlotte walked over to where Candeloro was sitting and took the seat next to her. Unfortunately their backs were to her so she couldn’t make out much beyond that.

After a few seconds went by Oktavia said impatiently, “Well? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Ophelia said. “They’re just…sitting there. I don’t even think they’re talking.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t know. Awkwardness, I guess. And…okay, no, now they’re talking.”

“About what? What are they saying?”

“How should I know? I’m like half a kilometer away!”

“Just move and download the lip-reading app! It’s not that expensive!”

“No! I told you, I’m just keeping an eye on them, not…okay, wait. They’re getting up together. And now they’re leaving the square.”

“Where?” Homulilly’s voice demanded. “Where are they going?”

“Hush. Let me…let me see…”

She tracked their movements as they moved from the square and started heading up the hill. It was one of the center streets, so it was wide enough for her to keep them in sight.

Then she saw where they were heading and sighed. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Oktavia said. “Why uh-oh? What’s going on?”

“I’m about to lose them.”

“You know that already? Why?”

“‘Cause they’re heading straight for the Rising Gardens.”

…

The Rising Gardens was located a little bit up the hill. It functioned as a nature walk, but also had kind of a twist, in that it was sort of a three-dimensional hedge maze. The whole place was a tiered structure made of wooden mesh and had went up about four stories, and those four stories were crammed with vines, flowers, fungus, shrugs, ferns, grasses, and even tree trunks that extended down through all four stories to rise up and spread their branches over the gardens. The paths were winding, rising up and down via random staircases, and no matter where you went you were surrounded by exotic plant life. Special hidden devices filled the maze halls with sunlight, and enough separation had been enforced between the roots, trunks, and vines to keep the interior from feeling claustrophobic. Non-pest insects such as butterflies, moths, and bees flitted everywhere. It was a wonderful place to just go and let yourself get lost in.

“Homulilly and Gretchen said that they found you in Old Town,” Candeloro said as they walked along.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Figured it was the best place to lay low while I figured things out. Still not sure how they managed to find me.”

“Well, uh…” Candeloro wondered how much she ought to reveal. Her younger friends’ legal troubles weren’t exactly appropriate conversation material.

Then she sighed. Oh, to hell with it. Charlotte ought to know what they did on her behalf. “Well, basically they broke into the FIB and convinced Hitomi to take them to you.”

Charlotte came to a sudden stop next to a vibrant patch of pink-and-violet orchids. “What.”

“Yes. And they apparently botched their return and were arrested.” Candeloro made sure that she had a good view of Charlotte’s face. “Ophelia was on her way to go bail them out when you called last night.”

Sure enough, Charlotte looked positively horrified. “Homulilly and Gretchen broke into the FIB, absconded with Hitomi Shizuki, and got themselves arrested? Them?!”

Candeloro shrugged. “Yes.”

Charlotte’s face seemed to go to war with itself. Her mouth kept forming itself around words that seemed unable to emerge while her cheeks, brow, and eyes tightened and loosened in response to the many conflicting emotions she was probably feeling. “But that’s…they couldn’t have…don’t they get how-”

Candeloro laid a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I don’t think you’re in any position to judge them,” she said. “They did it for you.”

Her face falling in defeat, Charlotte sighed. She gestured helplessly and shrugged.

Then she glanced at the hand on her shoulder. She didn’t say anything, but her face did clench up.

Wincing, Candeloro moved her hand away.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Charlotte motioned toward Candeloro’s arm. “I’m not really, um…”

“It’s okay, I get it.”

Shaking her head, Charlotte started walking again.

“They said you had a flight out of here,” Candeloro said after a bit.

“I did,” Charlotte said with a nod. “Still do. Just…rescheduled. For later today.”

Candeloro winced. “Why? I mean, I understand if you needed some time to yourself. But why were you leaving town?” Well, it was time to broach the question that had been hanging between them from the start. “Does me being…this really repulse you that much?”

“I…” Charlotte pressed the fingertips of her right hand against her forehead. “Ah, damn it. I guess there’s no gentle way to put this. Mami, you scare me.”

Candeloro wasn’t sure what hurt her more: the idea that her own wife was scared of her or that she was still thinking of her exclusively as “Mami.”

“I mean, a witch turning all the way back into a Puella Magi? That’s…you have a better chance of going full witch than you have of that! It’s such a remote possibility that it’s not even worth thinking about, it should have never had happened! But it did. And now you’re here.”

Candeloro shot her a look. “Me being…?”

“Oh, don’t start that. You know exactly what I mean. You being Mami Tomoe!” Charlotte threw her hands up in the air in dramatic fashion, scaring away a few pigeons that had been nesting atop a nearby vine-covered statue. “Mami Tomoe, Puella Magi! The one who got caught up in the Incubators’ stupid system and turned into a witch! The one that’s supposed to be dead! The one that Candeloro was made from!”

Candeloro winced. Thankfully no one had really taken notice of Charlotte’s outburst, or if they had, they were making sure not to pay attention.

To her credit, Charlotte also seemed to notice that she had made a poor decision, if the grimace she was wearing as she looked around was any indication. She lowered her arms and stuck her hands into her pockets.

“So, is that what you think?” Candeloro said after they had walked a ways. “That I’ve…replaced Candeloro? That I’m really not her?”

Charlotte huffed. “I can…accept that you think that you’re Candeloro. I can accept that you might have your memories.”

“I do. And I can prove it.”

“You don’t need to-”

Candeloro took a deep breath. Then she said, “Your name is Charlotte, but your fans call you Charlotte Walpurgis, a name that Ophelia dared you to take because you refused to believe your publishers would take it seriously, and you ended up owing her ten talents when they didn’t even bat an eye. We all went to school at the Cloudbreak Public University, and you used to get into fights with Oktavia because she wouldn’t stop playing her keyboard when you were trying to sleep. You got a Masters in Classic Literature and figured that was enough to get yourself a job at the library.

“You like listening to vaskergoros folk and vekoo jazz, but can’t stand heavy metal no matter what species it comes from, despite going through a very loud punk phase when you were in your second-to-last year. You go into weird fits whenever you come within spitting distance of cheese, something we found out when you literally dove over the lunchline back during our first year and had to be dragged out by your ankles. When we got our parrot, we all threw dice to decide who got to name him, and you won and named him ‘Cheese’ as a joke. You’re allergic to green beans for some strange reason. You and Ophelia once spent an entire month waging war on one another for no logical reason whatsoever, and it only stopped when Ophelia accidentally hit me in the face with a snowball she had been keeping in the freezer. You once tried to prank Oktavia and I into going on a terrifying ride at Sardi’s Land of Miracles, only for it to backfire and you passed out on the ride. We had to replace the kitchen window once when you started showing off throwing darts during a barbeque. You’ve been arrested twice, once during our FIB days for getting drunk and breaking into the pool after hours to go skinny dipping with your friends, and again two years after we all graduated when you, once again, got drunk with your friends and broke into the FIB pool to go skinny dipping. Oktavia was with you both times. And they say I have a drinking problem. You flunked Physics our Senior year and begged Ophelia to tutor you so you could get through the makeup course. She waited four years to call in that favor, and to this day I cannot get any of you to tell me what she made you do, I just know it was kind of illegal and Oktavia was involved somehow. Also, you enjoy having me tie your arms to the bedframe whenever we make love, and having me leave a trail of kisses all the way from your forehead all the way down to your-”

“Stop it,” Charlotte growled. “I get it.”

“I just wanted to prove to you that I’m still me.”

“So I’ve heard. Homulilly even told me that you’re still using her name.”

The constant attacks to her identity were making Candeloro’s stomach sour. “But?”

“I can’t accept that she is the one in the driver’s seat. That you’re really her, instead of someone who just slipped back into your skin and took over.”

“Why?” Candeloro demanded. “Why are you so sure?”

Then Charlotte was taken over by a rage and fury so pure and so hot that it made Candeloro recoil. She had seen Charlotte angry before, but never like that, not with her face twisted up in hate and grief.

“Because she felt you coming back,” Charlotte snarled. “She was terrified of you, terrified that you would wake up and take away everything from her! Remember? Do you remember the day I went to talk to Hitomi Shizuki and learned everyone’s old names? Do you remember what happened that night?”

…

Then…

“Candeloro? Are you all right?”

It was late evening. Most of the household had gone to bed, though Charlotte doubted that any of them would be doing much sleeping. There was just too much weighing on their minds. Hell, Charlotte had learned exactly nothing of her own past, and she was expecting to be kept up for several hours through empathetic insomnia alone.

As if only to prove her point, instead of going to bed after undressing, Candeloro was standing at the window, staring out at the neighborhood. Ladoga was pretty quiet as far as streets went, and most of their neighbors had turned in for the night as well, so most of the lights were out. They had always liked how the neighborhood looked at night, with the heavy foresting and curving cobblestone streets and the graceful, elfin streetlamps. At night, when the lights went down, the streetlamps went on, and the night insects came out, it looked like something out of a fairytale. When they had first moved in, the two of them would often just spread a blanket on the roof and lay there in each other’s arms, listening to the sounds of the night. They still did that on occasion, when they mood took them.

But that look of peaceful allure wasn’t what she saw in Candeloro. Instead, her wife looked pensive, almost haunted. It was pretty troubling.

“Candeloro?”

Instead of turning to her, Candeloro continued to stare out the window while saying, “Do you know what the strangest thing about all this is?”

Charlotte pursed her lips. “Uh, the fact that one of Gretchen and Homulilly’s old buddies just so happen to show up right on their graduation day and not only knows most of our old names, but major details about our pasts as well? Because that’s pretty damn strange.”

“I mean besides the obvious.”

After mentally sifting through just about every possible answer to that question, Charlotte shrugged. There was so much strangeness going on that she didn’t even know which one to pick first. “Okay. Shoot.”

“It’s that…it’s despite the fact that I am still technically dead, I’m the one that feels haunted. I mean, that’s strange, right? According to every objective scale, I am a ghost.” Candeloro laid the end of a ribbon against the glass. “But I can’t shake this feeling that the dead are watching me. Calling out to me. Isn’t that weird?”

Charlotte pursed her lips as she thought on that. “Nah,” she said after a bit. She shook her head. “It’s not weird at all. I mean, if you think about it, you’re not the dead one.”

Candeloro glanced at her from over her shoulder, her face troubled. “How do you figure?”

“It’s just something I read in a book once. You can’t be dead in your own world. Every world has its own version of alive, and when you stop being alive in that world, you go to wherever you’re supposed to be next, right? So if this world was made specifically for people like us, then according to the law of the land, we’re the alive ones. But our past selves?” Charlotte shrugged. “Well, they up and died in that other world. So they’re dead and we’re not. What you’re feeling is perfectly logical.”

She actually got a small laugh from her wife for that. “Oh, good Lord,” Candeloro said with a roll of her eyes. She left the window to finally head over to the bed. “Leave it to you to try to take apart an existential crisis with literal terminology.”

“Yeah, that’s me. ‘Charlotte Walpurgis destroys identity angst with facts and logic!’”

Candeloro made a face. “Is that from something? Because it sounds insufferable!”

“Ah, I got it from this anti-witch idiot’s channel on GalacWork. Most of her holos have stupid titles like that. On the one hand, they really are as stupid as they sound. On the other…comedy. Gold.”

Candeloro shot her a very familiar look.

“Yeah, I guess now’s not the time,” Charlotte sighed. She held the bedcovers open, letting Candeloro slide in. “Sorry.”

Candeloro laid her head back into the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “Do you remember back at the FIB, how we’d sit around talking about what kind of people we might have used to be, making up lives for our past selves, that sort of thing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Remember how I told you that I would have given anything to know my story? To know what happened to me, what that car and all those tea pots were all about?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, now I do know! About the car at least. And I can find out almost everything I ever wanted to know! I can ask you her name right now and I’ll find out.”

Charlotte pressed herself close to Candeloro, nestling her chin on Candeloro’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her torso. “But…you don’t want it anymore?”

“No,” Candeloro said after a pause. “No, I do not. In fact, I kind of wish that I didn’t learn what I do know. It feels like everything I learn wakes her up a little bit more, and if I keep going she’ll…” Candeloro shivered.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “She’s dead, Candy.”

“I know. But…”

“She’s dead. Her story’s over. And everything that’s left of her is living a perfectly happy life in you. And if you ask me, she probably prefers it that way.” Charlotte slipped an arm behind Candeloro’s head and gently turned her face toward her. “So stop worrying about something that’s not going to happen. Worst that could happen is that maybe we’ll have to go into therapy for a bit if spiritual dissonance starts to happen. And that happens all the time. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

…

Now…

“So what am I then?” Candeloro demanded. “Some kind of parasite?”

“No, you’re the host,” Charlotte said flatly. “I fell in love with the parasite. You know, seeing how I’m one myself. Then you exterminated her. Took your body back, took your name back, took back everything. Well, fine. It was yours to begin with. And if the others are so willing to just let you slip in and replace her, then that’s on them. But I don’t have to be a part of it.”

Candeloro slowly breathed in and out. “Charlotte, that might the single ugliest thing I have ever heard you say.”

“I tell it like it is. And you’ll notice that I’ve done most of the talking here. Weren’t you supposed to try to convince that I’m wrong, that you really are still Candeloro, just with some kind of expansion pack or something? Some kind of upgrade? Candeloro+ or something? Candeloro MK II? Candelmami? Mamiloro?”

“Stop it!” Candeloro cried. “Stop it right now! This is tearing me up enough as it is, and you’re making jokes?”

“Then get on with it already!” Charlotte said with an impatient roll of her wrist. “Convince me!”

At that moment, a trio of girls appeared around the corner, oohing and aweing over the flowers. Candeloro and Charlotte froze in place and then tried to look inconspicuous. If the trio had noticed the argument taking place, they made no sign as they walked right past them and headed up a nearby stairway to the upper level.

Once they were out of sight, Charlotte sighed and said, “Well? Go ahead.”

Candeloro opened her mouth…and then closed it again. She looked down at the ground, tears prickling her eyes.

Charlotte tilted her head to one side. “Well?”

“That…That’s just it,” Candeloro said, her voice shaking. “As terrible as it is, I’m not sure you’re wrong.”

…

“Well?” Oktavia demanded. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, because I can’t see them!” Ophelia snapped back. “They’re way deep in the maze!”

“Then follow them!”

“No, you pushy voyeur!” Ophelia said down with her legs crossed Indian-style and her arms folded. “I’m going to sit here and wait until one of them comes out! That’s it! Go read a book or compose a diss-track if you’re so bored!”

…

“Okay,” Charlotte said after the silence between them had gone on long enough. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Candeloro tried to wipe her eyes with her fingers but found them too stiff and too shaky to really do the job without potentially jabbing herself in the eye, so she used her wrist instead. “Right after…right after the change, the whole, um, Candeloro and Mami dichotomy was…pretty stable, I guess. I still had my sense of self, I still had my old impulses and reflexes and tics, I just had this part of me opened up. A-And while all those memories were…painful, I figured I would get used to them in time. And while we were on the Aurora Borealis I had too much on my mind to really give much thought to sorting that out-”

“You mean me,” Charlotte said.

Candeloro sighed. “Yes, you. Being rejected by my wife was a little distracting, yes.”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides, the memories were all fresh then and hitting me all at once. I thought that once I was home, once I was someplace familiar, things might…settle into place.”

Charlotte frowned. “I’m guessing that they didn’t?”

Candeloro shook her head. “That, or they decided to settle in the worst way possible.”

…

Then…

“Only thing is, he won’t tell us the last part! How do you make it? I have to know!”

Despite having spent most of the day walking around in a silent, robotic trance, that actually managed to pull Candeloro out of her funk, at least enough to feel a small trickle of amusement. The recipe that the marshal was referring to actually was not one of her own, or Charlotte’s. Rather, it had been a fairly standard recipe that Ophelia had read out loud to Cheese from a cookbook in a vain attempt to break him of his swearing habit. The marshals could probably just search up the name of the cookbook and get the rest without trouble.

Then Cheese, who had been happily walking back and forth across Ophelia’s shoulders as she talked to the marshal, suddenly took notice of Candeloro.

Candeloro was admittedly not all that close to the family bird, at least not as much as the others. Oh sure, they liked each other well enough, and she did her part to help take care of him, but he always seemed to prefer the company of the two other couples than to her and Charlotte, which had been fine with her. He was great fun to have around, but he tended to be pretty needy when it came to attention, and he had almost developed a bad habit of chewing on her ribbons until they managed to break him of it.

Still, they did get along just fine, and she was honestly glad that he was okay. However, as soon as he saw her, he suddenly straightened up, all of his feather flaring up. Then he started flapping his wings in agitation, squawking loudly.

“Cheese! Hey! Knock it off, you asshole!” Ophelia shielded the back of her neck with one hand while shoving the other arm against Cheese’s legs to get him to step on so she could get him away from the back of her head. “Jesus, what has gotten into you?”

Candeloro said nothing. She was wearing a pretty bulky hooded jacket and had her hands nestled in the front pocket, so if anyone who knew her saw her they wouldn’t notice that something was amiss without taking a really good look.

But still, Cheese somehow knew that something was off.

“Wonder what got into him?” said one of the marshals, who had been in the process of leaving when the bird’s fit had brought her to a stop.

“He’s…moody,” Homulilly told her. “Sometimes he just throws temper tantrums for no reason. I’m surprised he didn’t act out when he was staying with you girls.”

“Well, he was kind of a handful, but I thought he’d calm down once you all got back.” The marshal shrugged. “Animals. Who can tell, eh?”

Candeloro glanced at her and shrugged.

Then she did a double-take.

The marshal was a witch. Physically, she looked to be a short, petite girl with dark skin and straight black hair. A jagged blue line divided her face in half, starting on her forehead over her right eyebrow to zigzag down between her eyes, over about two-thirds of her nose, past her mouth, and down her chin to disappear into the collar of her uniform. Everything on the left side looked perfectly normal, but the entire right looked like it had been carved from an opal. The color seemed to change as she moved, sometimes being marble-white, then sea blue, then pale green, then blood red. The part of her lips on the shimmering side also changed color, but to whatever the opposite her skin happened to be at the time. One dark eye looked perfectly normal, while the other was jet black with a bright golden iris.

Although she knew what she would find and dreaded it, Candeloro’s eyes went down toward the marshal’s arms. Most of them were covered with the thick brown sleeves of her uniform, but she could still see her hands.

They were blocky and made of yellow-painted steel, with gleaming pistons running down her arms into her wrist and across each finger and cables stretching from jutting poles, like a construction crane arm.

All in all, the girl’s witch remnants were striking, but hardly noteworthy. Candeloro encountered people just as strange every day, and not too long ago would have been thought of as just as odd. But seeing the girl had jogged something inside her, something from a long time…

…the massive crane-arm slammed into the steel girders that Mami had been standing upon. Had she not leapt off when she had, she would have been crushed into a pasty smear.

Still, she had dodged just in time. Unfortunately, she had been rather high up at the time, and didn’t have destination in mind when she had jumped; she had just been trying to get away from the witch’s attack.

And once she was in the air, there was nowhere to go but down.

Mami had been nine stories up the skeletal network of catwalks and girders, a little more than halfway to the witch’s head. And with the structure lacking walls, ceilings, or more importantly floors she found her trajectory headed somewhere hard, painful, and quite possibly lethal.

Arms and legs flailing at nothing, she started to fall.

“KYYYYUUUUUUBEEEEYYYYYY!” she screamed as the girder and pipes whooshed past her and the concrete floor rushed up to meet her.

“Your ribbons!” Kyubey called to her, speaking in her head like he always did. “Use them to break your fall! Hurry!”

Her ribbons?

Oh, right. She had those now.

Mami thrust a hand out. In response, a yellow ribbons materialized, one end clutched in her hand and the other wrapped around a girder. With a painful jerk her trajectory was suddenly redirected as she stopped falling and started to swing out.

Too late she realized that swinging outward when surrounded by so many steel beams was just as potentially lethal as falling straight down.

Her ribbon hit one such beam and she was sent hurtling. In desperation she created another and managed to pull herself out of the way before smacking headlong into a girder.

Then one of the witch’s crane-arms came down, hitting where the ribbon was connected and severing it.

Mami was again tumbling through the air, but this time had half-a-second more to react. She thrust her hands right in front of her, created a spiral of ribbons between her and the beam she was about to fly into. They absorbed her momentum, slowing her down. Then, before she could be hit again, she thrust another ribbon at a nearby girder and launched herself through an opening in the beams, sending her safely outside of the witch’s body.

Her landing was still rough, but not nearly as painful as it would have been otherwise. She tried to stand, but her legs buckled under her, and she fell fully onto her back as the world spun around her.

Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, and her heartbeat was pounding away in her ears. This was only the third witch she had fought, and it was easily the craziest. The other two hadn’t come nearly as close to getting her as this one had, nor had she had any kind of escape quite so…thrilling.

“Uh, hey!” the marshal said, suddenly breaking Mami from her trance.

Mami stared back at her. “Huh?”

“I asked you what was wrong. You just…started staring at me. Are you all right?”

Mami didn’t answer. She just stared.

“I said, are you all right?”

A fluffy white blur was bounding toward her. “Mami! Are you all right?”

Mami shook her head to get everything to stop spinning. Then she looked up.

Things were still…weird. The “sky,” if it could be called that, was in actuality a canopy made up of blue balloons painted with white clouds that clustered tightly together. The “sun” was a massive yellow spotlight that was pressed through the balloon, which sent a single glaring beam straight down at the witch, which was a bit on the…large side.

Most of the witch looked like the steel gridwork of a skyscraper still under construction: fourteen stories of girders, beams, and catwalks. Twelve construction cranes protruded from its edges, four on each edge, which were surprisingly fast, considering their size. And suspended on a crisscross of cables top and center was a huge dome-shaped magnet, such as the kind used in junkyards.

Stuck onto the magnet was a metal ring, which in turn suspended a glass bowl the size of a house, full of some kind of clear liquid. And floating in that liquid was the witch’s head.

Half of it looked like a child’s doll, with dark plastic skin, dark straight hair, and a dark plastic eye that swiveled crazily in its socket. But the other, divided from the plastic side with a jagged line, gleamed like mother-of-pearl, its colors constantly changing. Its mouth was open, and it seemed to be reciting an endless deluge of mathematical equations in a disconcerting monotone voice, which were broadcasted throughout its labyrinth courtesy of the megaphones stuck through its body’s framework.

Mami leapt to her feet. “I’m fine,” she said as she started running toward the witch again. Climbing its body so as to get a clear shot at the head hadn’t worked, but she was already formulating another plan. “Kyubey, you said that the weapons conjured up by my ribbons are limited only by my own understanding of those weapons internal workings, right?”

“Correct,” Kyubey said as he bounded after her. “That is why you have had so much success with muskets. Their mechanisms are simple and therefore easy to replicate.”

Mami nodded. She deftly dodged two strikes from the cranes as they tried to impale her and darted into the gridwork. “Okay. But is there anything that says I can’t make something similar to the muskets, only…larger?”

“Nothing at all. Why?”

This time, instead of heading upward, Mami went inward, heading to the center of the structure until she was directly beneath the suspended bowl that held the witch’s head. There were still plenty of beams crisscrossing between her and it, hence her previous attempt to get closer.

But even if she had gotten close enough to get a clear shot, she doubted that she would be able to do much damage. She didn’t know how much in common with real steel its body had, but it was probably close enough to blunt her bullets, magic though they were.

“Because sometimes, you don’t need to get closer,” Mami said as she backed up until she found a point of trajectory that was relatively clear of steel beams. Then she held out a hand. “Sometimes you need to get bigger.”

As was the case whenever she summoned up her muskets, her ribbons twisted around each other, only this time there were many, many times more of them, and they took on a much, much larger shape. When the thing solidified, she was holding into the grips of a cannon that any battleship would be proud to display on its prow.

Mami took aim. Then she fired.

Her gleaming, golden cannonball shot straight and true. What steel beams and cables that did get in the way were shredded in its wake without stopping its momentum. It struck the side of the glass bowl, covering it with cracks and sending the magnet swinging.

The cables holding the magnet snapped, and the whole thing fell: magnet, bowl, head, and all. It struck several of the beams along the way, each one shattering or denting it a little more. Mami rushed out of the way to avoid getting hit by the glass shards.

The witch’s head wasn’t nearly so lucky. By the time it hit the ground, it was already a cracked and broken mess, one that fell to pieces upon impact.

Then, just as the other two witch labyrinths had, this one shimmered and fell apart, and Mami found herself standing next to the steel factory in the city’s industrial zone where she had tracked the witch.

And sure enough, at her feet was a jet-black grief seed.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Mami knelt down and picked it up. Using that giant cannon took considerably more magic than her muskets, so this would be of great help. Still, the cannon made for a great finishing move. She should probably keep using it. Though she probably ought to come up with a cool name for it though. Something like that was too good to go unnamed.

“Uh, hello? What’s up? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Ursula the Construction Witch’s patchwork brow furrowed in concern. She waved her mechanical crane hands in front of Mami’s face. “Hellllloooooo?”

Mami jerked abruptly out of her stupor. “I, uh, s-s-sorry…”

Then Homura took her by the arm. “I’m sorry, she’s been feeling a little out of sorts. She got real seasick on the way back and spent the whole trip throwing up, so she’s still a little woozy.”

Ursula took a reflexive step back. “Ah. Say no more. Hope you feel better.”

“Right!” Homura started to move Mami toward the front door. “So let’s just get her inside so she can get her inside and-”

“Wait, hold on.” Ursula suddenly moved herself in front of Mami. She leaned for a closer look. “Have we…met? Because I am getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu right about now.”

Before either Mami or Homura could respond, the marshal that had met them at the door called out, “Sully, seriously? Of course she does! Their photos are all over the house!”

“Nah, that’s not it. I swear we’ve met…”

Mami’s tongue felt like it was glued to the top of her mouth.

Then Ursula shrugged. “Oh well, probably just ran into you…somewhere. Sorry about being weird.”

“No problem!” Homura said with a nervous laugh. She started leading Mami away again. “Um, thank you for looking after the house! Owe you one!”

The others quickly fell into place around them and moved Mami fully inside the house. Once she was inside, the spell broke, and she start trembling.

No, not Mami, she thought. That’s not my name anymore. I am Candeloro. She is Homulilly, that is Ophelia, and Oktavia, and Gretchen. Get a grip. Just because you killed that witch years ago is no reason to…”

“Okay, what just happened?” Ophelia said. “You all right?”

Swallowing, Mami managed a shaky nod. “I am. Sorry.”

“You sure?” Ophelia said, not looking in the slightest bit convinced. “Because-”

“Just a weird. I’m fine. Really.”

But she wasn’t. She was very far from being fine.

…

Now…

“Okay,” Charlotte said. “You’re telling me that seeing this girl not only triggered flashbacks to when you killed her, but it also triggered a full-on identity crisis?”

Candeloro sighed. “Yes, Charlotte. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Ah.” Charlotte’s hand fidgeted, the fingers tapping out an anxious rhythm against her thigh. “That…Wait, just seeing her face kicked this off, but hanging out with the others didn’t? I mean, you knew them when you were all alive.”

Candeloro fell silent.

“What?”

Candeloro slowly breathed in the humid, earthy air. “That’s just it. Once that one happened, the others did so as well.”

…

Then…

“I’ll…I’m just going to go take a nap,” Candeloro said as she wearily made for the stairs.

“Anything I can get you?” Ophelia called after her.

Though she was grateful for the offer, Candeloro just shook her head. After her little episode, all she wanted was sleep. She started up the stairs, one hand laid flat on the bannister. She reflexively tried to wrap her whole hand around it before remembering that she didn’t have that level of flexibility anymore, so she settled for just stiffly curling her fingers around it.

As she walked upward, she heard Ophelia say to Homulilly and Gretchen, “Um, let me know if anything in your room is out of place, I guess. I’m going to go check on the garage.”

Candeloro paused halfway up. She glanced down to watch Ophelia walk into the kitchen.

Ophelia, Witch of Flames. Ophelia, whose lifestyle was as eccentric as her choice of dress. Ophelia, diligent engineer and accomplished dancer, who paradoxically balanced a juvenile sense of humor with a strong sense of personal responsibility, whose attitude was so childish in some ways while being the most grown-up of them in others. Ophelia, to whom Candeloro had lost her virginity during a very poor string of bad decisions but still remained one of her closest friends years later.

But that wasn’t all she was.

Candeloro started up the stairs again. She tried not to look at the framed pictures that hung on the wall to her left, but one did give her pause.

It was all of them back during their time in the FIB, long before any of them had really figured out who they were. That had been a very chaotic time for all of them. Everything had been so new and fascinating, but also kind of scary, full of new surprises and strange oddities.

Everyone looked pretty much the same as they did now, thanks to the benefits of never aging. And yet they all looked so different, mainly due to their evolving tastes in fashion. Candeloro herself had on a pair of black shorts and a midriff-revealing top that she was kind of embarrassed about now. She was of course comfortable with her own sexuality, but it had been a long time since she had felt any need to flaunt it. Her final two years there had been kind of a wild time.

Of all of them, Charlotte had probably changed the most. She had really been into some…very interesting kind of music back then, and was wearing a leather jacket with several band patches sewn on that was probably still at the back of their closet, a pair of faded jeans with a studded belt, and a shirt bearing the main character of a cartoon famed for its racy humor. Her hair was also much different, in that it had been gelled up into some kind of hawk. Also, she had on way more makeup back then, especially around the eyes, and had a lip ring. Candeloro had actually liked that lip ring, though Charlotte had stopped wearing it when it had accidentally gotten caught on Candeloro’s lip when they had made out just a little too enthusiastically.

As for Oktavia, well, she hadn’t gotten her cap then, but she looked more-or-less the same. For some reason she had never deviated from the short, boyish haircut she had shown up with. Candeloro supposed that having short hair made all her time in the ocean easier. At any rate, here she was just a pair of aviator sunglasses and shirt decorated with colorful seahorses.

As for Ophelia, this had been long before she had settled into what would become her trademark style of dress. Instead, she was wearing a simple black tee-shirt, a pair of cut-off shorts, a dark blue denim jacket, a pair of calf-high boots, and black baseball cap bearing the logo of a wrestler she had been a fan of. She was standing with one foot resting on the edge of a low wall, one hand on her hip, and the other touching the brim of her hat as she half-grinned at the camera, her fang showing prominently.

Candeloro stared at her in particular. In her mind, the denim jacket morphed into a green hoodie, and the cap was replaced by a long, flowing scarlet ponytail tied back with a black ribbon.

I’m Kyoko Sakura. Thanks. If hadn’t come by I would have bit it.

Mami reached up and gently pressed her fingertips to the image of the hat, so that Kyoko’s face stood in stark relief.

You saved me. Wow. I never knew there was such an amazing magical girl here in Mitakihara.

Her eye twitched, and she hastily moved the rest of the way up the stairs.

Unfortunately it was too late. Now that her mind had focused on that particular set of memories, they wouldn’t shut up.

So long as we’re talking about selfishness, I wanted to ask you: may I please become Mami-san’s student?

Mami quickened her gait, as if moving faster would allow her to outrun the downpour of memories that were threatening to bury her.

If that’s the case, I’ll be fine then. Ever since I was small, I watched my father and thought about how I wanted to bring happiness to everyone. I guess my wish to make my father happy was the first step towards making that a reality. To protect the happiness of everyone, that’s my wish.

Her hand didn’t tremble in the slightest as she tore the door to her (and Charlotte’s) room open and bolted inside. She slammed it shut and collapsed with her back to the door.

They’re gone. It was my wish. I just wanted them to have happiness, but it broke him. He found out what I did and it broke him!

Her legs buckled out from under her, and she slid down to the floor, her fingertips digging into her temple and forehead.

Huh? What the hell do you know? There’s a difference between losing your family in an accident and losing your family because it’s your own damn fault! It all happened because of my magic! So you know what? I’m never going to use my magic for anyone else’s sake again! I’ve decided that all this power is only for me to use, for my sake.

Mami half-crawled, half-staggered her way over to her bed. She didn’t bother to undress before she hauled herself onto her side.

I’ve had it with you! Our partnership is now officially done!

Her hand instinctively reached out for Charlotte’s, but she then remembered that Charlotte was gone.

Being lonely is a hell of a lot better than putting up with you all the time!

Instead, she seized up Charlotte’s pillow and pressed it down over her head, but nothing would drown out the angry shouting echoing in her head, or the sound of fists connecting with flesh.

Now take that!

And that!

And that!

…

Now…

“Ah,” Charlotte said. “Well. Um, I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“Her father had just murdered her mother and sister before hanging himself because he found out about her contract,” Candeloro said flatly. “She was not exactly in a good place at the time.”

“No kidding. Was she the only one?”

Candeloro sighed. “No. Not by a long shot. It just kept happening.”

…

Then…

“Well, hey,” Oktavia said. “Look who’s up. How you feeling?”

Candeloro walked out into the backyard. There, Oktavia was lounging in one of the lawnchairs, reading a book. “Better,” she said. “A lot better.” She plopped down in the chair next to Oktavia.

“Well, sometimes all you need is a really good night’s sleep,” Oktavia said. “God knows, none of us were sleeping well on the boat.”

That much was for certain. “Can’t argue with that,” Candeloro said. “Um, hey, Oktavia. I don’t suppose you guys have heard anything about…?”

Her question trailed off, but Oktavia obviously knew what she was talking about. Grimacing, she shook her head. “No, sorry. Still no word from her.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t sweat it! You know Charlotte, sometimes she gets all moody and stubborn! Once she’s come to her senses she’ll come right back, probably on hands and knees just begging you to take her back!”

“There’s an interesting image,” Candeloro said dryly.

“Eh, it’s what I do,” Oktavia said with a shrug. “Besides, you know how love is. It-”

“-sucks!”

“Huh?” Candeloro said.

“I said love’s complicated, you know?”

“Really? I thought you just said it sucks.”

Oktavia shot her an odd look. “Nooooo. It’s messy sometimes, but-”

“-I can’t believe she would do this to me! Now! I thought we were friends!”

“Well, sometimes even the best of friends don’t always see the whole picture,” Mami said. “She probably thinks that she’s doing you a favor.”

Sayaka’s face twisted up in confusion. “Candy, what the hell are you talking about? Why would Charlotte be thinking that she’s doing me a favor?”

“But you know what the worst if it is? Maybe she’s right. Because there was a moment where…where I regretted saving her from that witch! Isn’t that awful? How could he love someone who thinks like that!”

“Don’t think like that!” Mami cried. “It’s not your fault. It’s not-”

Then she blinked.

Wait.

What?

Sayaka (no, no, no, no, no! Not Sayaka! Her name was…was…was Oktavia now!) was staring at her in bewilderment. “Er, Candy? Uh, sorry, I know you’re going through a hard time right now, but you are making exactly zero sense. The hell?”

Mami shook her head. “I…I’m sorry. I just had a really weird episode.”

“I can tell,” Saya…Oktavia said. “Um, do you want me to get Ophelia or something?”

“No,” Mami said as she hastily stood up. “No, I just…need to clear my…”

Then she quickly moved back into the house, all the while echoes continued to bounce around in her head.

Some hero! How could I think to be worth anything if I have that in me! How could I ever think I could be like you!

…

Now…

“And happening.”

…

Then…

Candeloro reached for the bathroom door. Before she could touch it, the door opened, and Gretchen stepped out.

The younger girl was obviously just freshly showered and changed, if her still-damp hair was any indication. “Oh!” she said, seeing Candeloro. “Sorry, let me get out of your way.”

“Not at all,” Candeloro said, moving aside so Gretchen could scuttle past. She was about to enter the bathroom herself when she heard Gretchen clear her throat.

“Um, Candeloro?” she said.

“Yes?”

“Are you…are you doing okay?”

Candeloro swallowed. “Well, as well as can be expected, given the circumstances. But I am fine, thank you.”

“Okay. It’s just that Oktavia said you, uh, had kind of a weird…”

“Yes. I had a strange flashback. Just…still need to sort these new memories out, I guess.”

“Okay, because if you ever-”

“I’m fine,” Candeloro said, and then she winced. That had come out a lot more harshly than she had wanted.

“Oh,” Gretchen said. “Sorry.”

“It’s-”

But Gretchen had already scurried off to her and Homulilly’s room.

Sighing, Candeloro went inside and closed and locked the door. She looked at herself in the mirror.

The face of Candeloro stared back at her.

She looked like a horror. Her eyes were sunken, her golden hair a frightful mess. And after snapping at Gretchen, she felt pretty horrible too.

Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen, Gretchen. The sweetest girl Candeloro had ever met. Even as she had grown older she had never lost her kind heart.

Of course, it had come with the territory. She had always been kind to a fault, selfless and caring and…

No!

No, she couldn’t go down that path again! She couldn’t let those memories creep up, memories like-

I’m sorry for crying.

No! Not again!

Don’t be. It’s a scary thing, the first time you get hurt. Now hold still. Magic might speed up the healing process, but we still need to disinfect the wound. This’ll sting.

Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!

I just wish I could be as brave and strong as you. Or Kyoko-chan! Or even Sayaka-chan! I just feel like I drag you all down sometimes.

Candeloro pounded her fists against her head. It did no good.

Madoka, don’t think like that. You have by far one of the kindest hearts I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And I want you to stay like that. That is your strength.

Please, make it stop!

We’re in a fight against monsters, against curses born from the worst kinds of hearts. We need someone like you. So don’t ever change who you are.

Who you are.

Change.

Change…into a…

Mami looked back up at the mirror. Her face was no longer a mess, her hair no longer disheveled. Rather, she was properly made up, and her hair neatly tied up in a pair of drill-tails on either side of her head.

She jerked back in surprise and looked down.

When she had entered the bathroom, she had been wearing a pair of jeans and blue blouse. But now she was wearing her Puella Magi uniform.

Mami pinched the hem of her skirt with shaking fingers. Then she lifted her gloved hands and squeezed them. When had that change happened? She didn’t recall wanting to change into her uniform, and yet here it was.

She closed her eyes and gripped her hands into fists at her side.

Go away, go away, go away, go away!

When she opened her eyes again, her old clothes were back, and her face was a proper disaster again.

But so was the rest of her.

She sat heavily down on the toilet lid, her face buried in her unwanted hands.

“I’m Candeloro,” she whispered. “I’m Candeloro! The Ribbon Witch! I don’t want to be Mami, I don’t want to be Mami, I don’t want to be Mami…”

…

Now…

“And happening!”

…

Then…

To her complete lack of surprise and no small amount of irritation, Candeloro couldn’t sleep.

She tossed. She turned. She opened the window and counted backwards from a hundred. Nothing worked.

Tomorrow she was going to meet face-to-face with Charlotte. Tomorrow she might end up losing her wife forever. How the hell could her mind not obsess over that?

Finally she got up with a growl and left her room.

It was a little past two in the morning and the house was dark. She didn’t know if anyone else was asleep though. Ophelia and Oktavia were probably still up, playing some video game or watching a movie.

Even so, Candeloro kept her steps light as she tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

To her surprise, there was a light coming from the kitchen. Specifically, the refrigerator light. Someone had it open and was rummaging around inside.

The door closed with a click, and a dark-haired silhouette straightened up and turned around.

“Oh!” Homulilly said, jerking up. The cup of water she had in her hands slipped from her grasp.

She tried to grab it, but Candeloro already had it covered. A ribbon shot out from her hand to lasso the cup and jerk it back toward her into her palm with barely any spilt.

“Here,” Candeloro said, handing her the cup. “Sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s…okay,” Homulilly said. She tilted her head to one side. Though the lights were out, Candeloro knew the curious look she was wearing. “So, uh, the ribbon-whip thing. That’s…”

“My Puella Magi power, yes,” Candeloro said.

“I thought you had guns.”

“It’s…a little hard to explain,” Candeloro said wearily. She quickly changed the subject. “You can’t sleep either?”

“Not really,” Homulilly admitted. “I’m not surprised that you can’t.”

“Well, it’s not something you can face without having some kind of nervous breakdown,” Candeloro said as she went over to the fridge to remove a pitcher of cranberry juice.

“I bet. Mind if I turn on the light?”

“Sure.”

The kitchen light stung Candeloro’s eyes a bit. She blinked a bit and shook her head.

Homulilly was already sitting at the table, her cup nestled in her hands. “Just juice, huh?”

“Just juice,” Candeloro confirmed as she poured herself a cup. “After what happened last time, I’m staying well away from alcohol.”

“Hmmm. But, uh, you still kind of…”

“More than you can believe,” Candeloro sighed. She sat down across from Homulilly. “Thank you again, by the way. For what you did.”

“Of course. I just hope it was worth it.”

Candeloro nodded. “Me too. Um, hey, Homulilly. I hope I’m not prying, but may I ask you a question?”

Homulilly frowned. “Um, sure?”

“Say you were in Charlotte’s position, and Gretchen had turned back into Madoka Kaname. What would…how would you react?”

Homulilly sighed. “Oh, I’ve been asking myself that question longer than Hitomi Shizuki’s been around.”

“Oh. Um, and?”

Homulilly’s skeletal finger tapped against the side of her glass. “Gretchen is the most important person in the world to me,” she said softly. “If she…became her old self, and didn’t remember me anymore, or at least only remembered Homura Akemi, it would…it would hurt a lot.”

“Would you leave?”

“No,” Homulilly said after a pause. “Because…it would still be her, right? How could I leave her? And if she still…still wanted me around, even if it was just as a friend, then that would…” She swallowed. “That would be enough.”

Candeloro sighed and took a small sip. “Yes, you always were very-”

She blinked.

“Very…what?”

We need to talk.

Candeloro shook her head. “Uh, sorry, I just-”

What about, Akemi-san?

Oh no.

You put Madoka in danger. Your plan failed, and she was hurt.

“Candeloro?” Homura said in puzzlement. “Are you all right?

This is unacceptable. You are our leader. Therefore, Madoka’s safety is your responsibility as much as it is mine.

Mami grabbed her head. Not again. Not again!

Akemi-san, it was an accident! I did everything I could to look after her, but fighting witches is inherently dangerous! You can’t prepare for all-

Enough.

“Should I call for help?” Homura asked, rising. “Let me get Ophelia-”

“No!” Mami said hastily. “I’m-”

No life matters more to me than Madoka’s. I helped you convince Sayaka Miki to make a contract for Madoka’s protection. I brought back Kyoko Sakura for Madoka’s protection. If you cannot ensure her safety despite having all that at your disposal, then perhaps a change of leadership is needed.

“Uh,” Mami stood up, and did so too quickly. Her elbow knocked over her glass of juice, spilling it across the table.

“Oh, damn! Shit!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Homura quickly grabbed a handful of paper towels and began mopping up the spilled juice.

“I should-”

“No, I got it,” Homura said. “Look, you’re in a bad place. Let me help, okay?”

Mami nodded numbly. “Okay. I’d…better go to bed, before I knock over something else.”

“Okay. And, uh, Candeloro?”

“What?”

Homura smiled at her. “It’ll be okay. You got-”

-no right to be acting so reckless. So, keep that in mind.

But-

Keep it in mind, Mami Tomoe. Speak to no one of our conversation, do your job and keep Madoka Kaname safe, and we shall have no problems.

“-this, okay?”

Mami numbly nodded. Then she turned and practically fled back up the stairs.

Remember my warning, Mami Tomoe.

Remember my warning.

…

Now…

“Holy shit,” Charlotte said, staring.

“I know,” Candeloro groaned. “It just…I never know when it’ll happen next, it just happens! And the more time I spend around them, the more it happens!”

“Yeah, I bet. Jesus.” Then Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “Still, this just proves my point! We were better off without any of that! We didn’t need to learn our names or our histories or any of that! We should have just said ‘no’ and left Hitomi alone!”

“I know that, Charlotte! But we didn’t! We took that risk, we opened that box, and now we have to deal with the consequences.” Candeloro looked down at her shaking hands. “And they scare me. I don’t want these memories. I don’t want this name. I don’t want to feel like who I am is just…I feel like my entire sense of self is like water in a shallow glass bowl sitting on the tip of a pin, and the slightest push can cause it to tip over and pour me out! I thought I could just g-get used to having this part of me opened up, but it’s more than just remembering everything I used to be. Because whenever these memories hit, then…I don’t know, but my sense of self starts…flowing. I feel less like Candeloro and more like Mami, and it takes longer and longer to get it under control!”

Now Charlotte’s hands started to shake as well. “So you’re telling me that the Mami half is slowly taking over, and when it does there’ll be nothing of Candeloro left?”

“I don’t know! That’s the point, I don’t know how this works, I don’t know what’s happening to me, I don’t know how it’s happening, I don’t know where Mami ends and Candeloro begins or if there even is a divide, I don’t know anything!” Now the tears were flowing freely. “I don’t know, and it scares me, Charlotte! You talk about how much it scares you?” Mami slapped her new hands against her own chest. “What about me? It’s happening to me! And right when I need you the most, you’re just going to run off on me? How could you?”

“I…”

“We were supposed to be together forever! Together, keeping each other strong through the centuries. I love you. I love you so much that the thought of you leaving me hurts more than the storm inside my head. And I thought you loved me too! So why, Charlotte?”

“Because…” Charlotte was starting to shake with agitation. “Because…uh…”

Candeloro reached for her, but Charlotte flinched away.

“I can’t,” Charlotte said as she backed away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I just can’t.”

“But why? I need you!”

Shaking her head, Charlotte kept back further and further away.

“Charlotte,” Candeloro pleaded. “Please. Don’t.”

“I just…” Then Charlotte turned and fled, running to disappear into the mists. Candeloro was left standing alone, arms that she had never wanted still reaching out, with her eyes wet, her throat clenched up, and her heart heavy.

…

The Rising Gardens were intended to be lost in. There were maps you could pick up that would always keep you informed of your location and marked out the quickest way out, but Charlotte had neglected to grab one. And now that she really, really wanted to leave, she found that she couldn’t.

Every turn just led to more turns, every staircase seemed to just plunge her deeper into the woman-made jungle. It was like being lost in a real jungle, one just as thick and dark.

Come on, come on, she thought as she ran. Where’s the way out?

“Come on, come on!” she said out loud. “It has to be around here-”

Then she turned a corner and came to a sudden stop.

She was staring at Candeloro’s (no! Mami Tomoe’s!) back. Somehow, she had ended up just coming back around again.

Sensing her, Mami Tomoe turned around. Her golden eyes were wet and bloodshot from crying, and her face was scrunched up with pure misery.

Mami Tomoe saw her, and her eyes widened. With hope.

Before she could speak, Charlotte spun on her heel and headed back the way she came.

There had to be a way out! The Rising Gardens had exits on every level! So where were they? Where was the damned-

The next thing she knew, Charlotte was bursting into sunlight.

She was standing on the second level, staring out at Freehaven. Though the sun overhead was nice and warm, she was still shivering.

Charlotte started running again. She hopped off the gardens entirely and ran for the facility exit. As she did so, she had her new phone out, fingers hastily calling for a zipper.

…

“Hey, wait a second!” Ophelia yelped as she leapt to her feet.

“Finally!” Oktavia said. “What’s going on?”

“Charlotte just ran out of the garden!”

“Alone?!”

“Yes, alone! And she looks kind of terrified!”

“Huh? What, did Candeloro summon up those silver guns of hers and try to take her head off?”

“Uh, probably not? Can’t blame her if she tried though!”

Then Charlotte leapt to the street and kept running. Ophelia’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, hell no,” she growled.

“You’re going after her!” Gretchen’s voice cheered.

“Damn straight. Candy shot her shot, now it’s my turn!”

Ophelia dove right off the roof she was standing on. She hit the street in a parkour roll and came up running.

Charlotte was fast. Her slender body and long legs were well-suited for speed. But she didn’t do a tenth of the cardiovascular exercises that Ophelia did daily. Ophelia’s toned legs became a blur as she took off like a rocket, weaving between what people she could and leaping fully over those that she couldn’t.

Unfortunately, Charlotte still had a considerable lead on her. And overhead, Ophelia could see the distinctive silver glint of a descending zipper.

Hell no!

“Hey!” she called as she shot toward the fleeing Charlotte like a bolt of lightning. “Stop!”

If Charlotte could hear her she didn’t make any indication. The zipper landed in a circular designated pick-up point and opened up.

Zippers were essentially egg-shaped shells that surrounded a ring of four padded seats, with a large luggage space on the bottom. But only Charlotte was in need of one, so only one side opened up. Charlotte zeroed in on it and increased her speed.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Ophelia snarled. She increased her speed…

…only to be brought to screeching halt when an entire bike team came riding right across her path. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a bridge overhead that prevented her from leaping over them.

“Shit!” Ophelia bounded upward, hoping to clear the buildings entirely before Charlotte got in.

She managed to reach the roof in a manner of seconds, but by the time she reached a vantage point, Charlotte had already reached the zipper and was climbing inside.

“No!” Ophelia leapt onto the road again, well past the bike team, and took off sprinting. “Charlotte! Stop!”

The side of the zipper closed up.

“Wait!”

Then it shot into the sky. Ophelia reached the pick-up spot mere seconds later, just in time to see it vanish over the rooftops.

…

Charlotte collapsed into her seat a panting, shaking, and sweating mess. “Go!” she shouted. The door closed shut, and the zipper launched into the air.

Oh God, she had not expected that. Having Mami Tomoe try to argue with her that she was still Candeloro? Yes. Yes, that had very much been expected and prepared for. But for her to say that she was still Candeloro, but the Mami Tomoe part was slowly taking over and for her to beg for Charlotte to stay and help her fight it off? That possibility hadn’t exactly occurred to her.

Still trembling, Charlotte leaned back…only to scowl. She quickly slipped her backpack off her shoulders and tossed it into the seat next to her before finally slumping back with a sigh. Why had she done that? Why had she run? That hadn’t been the thing that had stolen her love away from her and was wearing her face. That had been her love begging her not to let the thing take her away in the first place! That had been Candeloro all right. If Candeloro and Mami Tomoe were supposed to be the same soul, then Candeloro would be able to tell if it was Mami Tomoe lying. And she hadn’t been. That had been the truth.

Of course it was, said the irritated voice in her head, the one that had been yelling at her all week, the one she had been arguing with or trying to ignore. But you ran away anyway. You coward. You idiot.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

No! You know I’m right! You’re a coward and an idiot who ran out on her family and-

“I said shut up!”

“I’m sorry,” said the digitized voice of the zipper’s AI. “I didn’t quite get that. Where would you like to go?”

Charlotte sighed. She ought to have had this thing waiting with preprogrammed coordinates. “Freehaven Skyport,” she said wearily. “Terminal seven.”

“Acknowledged.” The monitor lit up with the flight route and estimated time of arrival, which was about seven minutes.

Charlotte slumped back into her seat. She blinked. And then she blinked again, slower this time. She hadn’t slept well at all the previous night for obvious reasons. Come to think of it, she hadn’t been sleeping much all week. And though she had expected to pass out on the elysian, she had thought that her nerves would have kept her awake until then. But her lack of sleep was catching up to her in a bad way. This was bad timing too. With such a short trip, nodding off now wouldn’t give her any sort of rest.

But surely it would be all right if she just closed her eyes for a bit…

…

The storyteller was confronted by the griever…

Charlotte finds herself in the inoffensive yet chillingly sterile waiting room of a hospital emergency room. She is sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for her name to be called. There are other people waiting in there with her; she can see them in her peripheral vision, can hear their muted conversations. But every time she looks up to focus on any of them in particular, she sees nothing but empty chairs.

She sits anxiously, hands clutching the sides of her seat. She can’t remember exactly why she was there, but she knows that it’s important. She is visiting someone, someone who is very ill, someone who isn’t expected to make it. She hadn’t been visiting them like she had promised, and that made her feel terrible.

“Charlotte? You can go in now.”

Charlotte sighs and stands up. She heads for the entrance to the hospital halls only to remember that she wasn’t sure of the way. Stopping by the receptionist’s desk, she turns toward the older lady that had called her name to ask her for directions.

“Excuse me, but which was to-”

Then she stops. The chair behind the desk is empty. Furthermore, all the hospital staff that she thought were working behind the counter are all gone.

Charlotte turns back toward the waiting room. As she does so, the muted babble of whispered conversations coming from the other people waiting dies off, as does the sound of the television. There is no one else there, and the television is off.

Blinking, Charlotte shakes her head and walks into the halls. As she does so, the conversations resume behind her, as does the patter of the hospital staff diligently working and the sound of the newscasters’ voices coming from the television.

As Charlotte walks through the halls, she passes many people. Doctors, nurses, security guards, midwives, patients, and other visitors, all of whom simply vanish the moment she gives them her full attention. She nods at the aging man at the security booth and stops to see if he knows the way, only to find the booth empty. She sidesteps a male nurse pushing a young woman in a wheelchair, only to see a solitary wheelchair sitting by itself by the wall. She approaches a nurse’s station with three middle-aged women chatting as they work, only to find the station unmanned. It is like she is trying to find her way through a world of ghosts. But who is the ghost? Is it the people that disappear all around her, or is she the one haunting the halls?

Finally she turns a corner and sees a recovery room down the hall with its door open. A bright line is shining out. That has to be the place.

Charlotte hurries toward the light. As she does so, the shadow people around her start to recede entirely, as does the rest of the hospital. She can feel the halls start to come apart around her while deep, loud rushing builds in her ears, like a consuming flood burst from a dam.

She hurries into the recovery room and slams the door. The rushing stops.

There are three curtain-shrouded beds in the room, two of which are open and empty. The curtain is drawn over the third bed, the one at the far end of the room. Behind it, she can see the silhouette of a young woman sitting in a chair.

Swallowing, Charlotte cautiously makes her way toward the curtain. She lays a hand on the curtain, hesitates, and then slowly pulls it open, half-expecting the woman to disappear like everyone else did.

She doesn’t.

The young woman is sitting in a blue chair next to the hospital bed, her legs crossed and hands clasped over her knee. She is wearing tight green pants and a frilly white blouse decorated with pink and blue mice. Her pink hair is done up in a pair of messy twintails, and her eyes are of the same color. Freckles dust her face, and she has a slight overbite.

It’s her. It’s clearly Charlotte. Granted, the woman’s skin is of a normal human hue rather than alabaster white, the freckles are new, their eyes are of different colors, and the other woman doesn’t have a tail, but other than that they are the same.

“So,” the other Charlotte says. “There you are. You kept me waiting.”

The spell of vague uncertainty that hung over all dreams broke then. In a rush Charlotte remembers everything. She understands what it is that is going on.

“No way,” she says. “Really?”

“Yup. Really really.”

Charlotte fumbles around until she grabs a nearby empty chair and sits down before her legs gives way beneath her. “But…I-I heard that the others, um, that the others-”

The other Charlotte crosses her legs and folds her arms over her chest. “Talked to their past selves in a dream or somesuch. Yeah, I know.”

“But…they all spiritual dissonance, right? Something that woke all that up? I never did though! So how-”

“Well, you know what they say,” the other Charlotte says with a shrug. “Sometimes you get woken up by the sound of your name, but sometimes you get dragged away by the irresistible need to slap a stupid bitch.”

“What?”

The other Charlotte stands up. She walks over to where the dumbfounded Charlotte was sitting and sticks out her hand. “Hi there. My name is Nozomi Momoe. You’re my witch, and you are also the idiot in the driver’s seat, because your stupidity was literally powerful enough to drag me back to life. Pleased to fucking meet you.”

Then before Charlotte has time to process that little revelation, Nozomi’s hand flies, striking Charlotte across the face.

Normally something like that would be enough to jolt Charlotte awake, likely with heavy panting and her illusionary heart racing. However, this was not that kind of dream.

“Got your attention?” Nozomi says.

Charlotte lifts a hand to her cheek. For a dream, the stinging sensation is impressively realistic. “The hell was that for?”

“You know,” Nozomi says with a derisive snort. She walks back to her seat and sits down. “All right, let me clear things up for you and answer everything you’re about to ask. Yes, I am your past self. Duh. Yes, this is really happening. Yes, we are the same person. Same soul, continuation of consciousness or whatever you guys call it. So when I say ‘I’ or ‘you’ or ‘we,’ don’t take it too literally. Yes, this is happening due to supernatural circumstances. No, I’m not telling you how. No, I’m not really real as a separate entity. This is all one big metaphor for how Nozomi would actually feel about what your dumb ass is doing right now. But yes, what I am saying to you comes from a very fucking real place. Are we clear?”

That…really did cover most of what Charlotte wants to ask, though not being able to ask them was kind of frustrating. Hell, she was still in need of a moment to really think on the whole “Nozomi Momoe” thing. “Wow, okay,” she says. “You’re…throwing a lot at me right now. And frankly, I don’t even know where to begin-”

“Great! Because I do.” Nozomi leans forward so as to glower at her more efficiently. “Why exactly are you listening to that big wad of dumb you got lodged in your head and throwing away literally the best thing to happen to you, to happen to us, to happen to me?”

Charlotte scowls. Oh, so that was what this was all about. “This is about Mami Tomoe, isn’t it?”

“Eh.” Nozomi waggles one of her palms. “Half right. This is about Mami Tomoe and Candeloro. Which, incidentally enough, do qualify as the same thing, if you want to get technical about it.”

Charlotte scowls. “I don’t have to explain that to you. I don’t have to explain it to anyone.”

“I am you, of course you don’t have to explain it! And you already had that whole deal torn down! What I want to know is why that even after realizing that you’re wrong, you’re still running away!”

“What, you expect me to be able to deal with…whatever that is? You expect me to be able to deal with any of this insanity?”

“No shit, I do! Because that’s what wives are supposed to do! Love and support in sickness and in health! She wants us to help her, she needs us by her side, and you’re just gonna go run away.

“Well, whatever. I owe you anything, and you don’t know-”

“Yeah, I’m just going to cut you off right there, Cheese-Brain.” Nozomi says, holding up a palm. “I do, actually. Been living through you for sixteen years now, so I know you pretty damned well.”

“Do you? Fine.” Charlotte leaned back in her chair, one arm draped over the back, legs crossed, while she gestured with the other. “Then by all means: explain it to me.”

“Fine. You’re running away not because you really believe that Mami’s gonna completely replace Candeloro, but because you’re scared of what she represents. Because all this time, things were set in a certain way, and you liked it that way! Sure, maybe all your friends had some kind of group dynamic back in the day, but who cares? Right now, everyone’s a witch, you’ve got a new group dynamic to which you are essential, and life is good!

“But then Hitomi Shizuki showed up and changed all that. Suddenly there’s new names being thrown around, reveals about past relationships. And things started to crack. They started to crumble. In just a few short days, people you thought you knew start making bad decisions, start drifting apart, started behaving out of character.

“And that scared you, didn’t it? Not just because it meant that this perfect life you’ve built was falling to pieces, but the thing you were dreading was coming back. Their past. Their group, the group that you were not a part of. And despite all evidence to the contrary, you couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Well, if they all do go back to being who they were, would there still be a place for me? Would they even want me?’” She snorts. “Talk about paranoid.”

“It’s not paranoid!” Charlotte shouts. “It did happen! One of them did come back, and she’s taking the place of my wife!”

“Yeah, Mami Tomoe did come back. She came back to save you, because you were in danger, and now that you wife is in the most trouble she’s ever been, when she needs you the most, you just selfishly abandon her? Because you were afraid that Mami would reject you?”

“No! I don’t care if Mami wants me or not! I care that the person I loved is gone!”

“She’s not gone, you idiot! But she is in the most pain that she’s ever in! She made a choice for your sake, and now she’s struggling with something big and terrifying, and instead of staying by her side like you should, you’re just going to abandon her and the rest of your family! You’re so afraid of change taking away everything you had that you’d rather throw it all away first, just because of a possibility! And you’ll run out on the woman you love more than anything in her time of need! She begged you to stay, she was weeping for you to stay, and you turned your back on her!”

Nozomi then thrusts a finger at the hospital bed next to her. And for the first time, Charlotte notices that it’s not empty. There is a body in it, that of woman. She is not that old, just a little out of middle-age, but she is so frail and withered that she could have been mistaken for being past eighty.

“I had a chance to save the only thing that mattered to me, but I refused to see the situation for what it was and lost our mother. Because of an assumption! So I will be damned before I let your fear hurt the ones that matter the most to us now! I’m not letting you run away!”

“I…” Charlotte struggles to find her voice. “But I…”

However, Nozomi is not letting her have the chance to speak. She thrusts her hand into the air, and suddenly the small space is filled with a burst of dark pink light. When it clears, Nozomi is wearing a sleeveless, double-breasted black tunic with gold buttons in the shaped of wrapped candy and a high collar; a tight black-and-white striped shirt under with frilly wrists; brown fingerless gloves; a knee-length pink skirt; black-and-white striped tights; and dainty ballet shoes. In her hand is a long black pole studded with pink polka-dots, topped with that wrapped candy shape.

Nozomi charges. Charlotte tries to dodge, but Nozomi thrusts her pole out, and golden wires erupt from the tip to ensnare Charlotte’s legs and yank them out from under her.

The next thing Charlotte knows, she’s lying flat on her back with legs straddling her chest, staring up at a face that looks so much like the one she sees every day in the mirror, only it is glaring down at her in pure hatred.

“No, you don’t get to run!” Nozomi screams. She strikes Charlotte across the face, causing her head to snap to one side. “You bitch!” She hits her again from the other side. “You coward!” She hits her again.

Then Nozomi is just raining blows down on Charlotte, from the left to the right to the left to the right again. “You! Won’t! Run! Away! If you do, I swear I will haunt you every time you go to sleep! I will make every second a waking nightmare! You can’t escape me, and you won’t-”

…

Charlotte jerked awake with a gasp. Her hands were in the air to ward off another attack, the screams still echoing in her ears.

There was nobody there. She was back in the zipper.

Charlotte slowly lowered her hands. Then she checked the time. To her shock, she saw that she had only been asleep for less than thirty seconds. The zipper was still moving above Freehaven toward the skyport.

Stupefied, Charlotte struggled to collect her thoughts. Though the details of the dream were swiftly fading away, the terror of it was not, nor was the sense of immense shame, guilt, and self-loathing.

She knew what had happened. She had heard of the others and their dream-meetings with their past selves, and how they had all made peace. And she had finally had her own. Only hers had been anything but peaceful.

And she knew exactly why.

Charlotte felt horrified. Oh God, what was she doing? How had things gotten this far?

“Wait!” Charlotte hoarsely called out. “Stop!”

The zipper paused.

“Cancel the trip! Take me back!”

“Trip cancellations incur a fee of-”

“I don’t care, charge me whatever, and just do it!”

The blue digital face shimmered, and the zipper turned around.

…

“Damn it,” Ophelia groused as she slouched her way across the rooftop. She kicked a pinecone that had somehow gotten up there. “Damn it, damn it, damn it. We were so close. So close. So-”

Then something zoomed past her head, something silver and shiny.

Ophelia froze. No, it couldn’t be. It had to be some other zipper. There were plenty of those coming and going all the time. There was no way it was…

She ran to the edge of the roof. The zipper had dove down to the same pick-up spot that Charlotte’s had departed from. Her illusionary heartbeat pounding away, Ophelia watched as its side opened up.

And then Charlotte stumbled out.

“No way,” Ophelia said. As she watched, Charlotte took off running, heading back toward the Rising Gardens.

Things still sucked a whole lot, but Ophelia couldn’t stop grinning. She pulled out her phone and reentered the group. “Hey guys,” she said. “Cancel the funeral. Guess what just happened!”

…

Sniffing, Candeloro slowly exited the Rising Gardens. She felt more miserable than she had ever felt in her entire life.

What was she going to do? What was she going to tell the others? Oh, they would feel bad for her, try to comfort her, say many bad things about Charlotte, but that wouldn’t change anything. She had gone to bring her back, to heal their family, but she had failed. In the end, Charlotte had rejected her.

Maybe she should just let the Mami Tomoe part take over completely. Mami Tomoe had never been married. Mami Tomoe hadn’t been abandoned by her wife. Maybe that would make things easier to-

“Candy! Wait! Stop!”

Candeloro made a sound not unlike air escaping a bike tire. She spun around, almost not daring to hope.

Charlotte was there, running toward her.

“What?” was all Candeloro could think of to say.

Charlotte looked like she was reaching out to grab her, but then stopped herself at the last minute. She looked at her outstretched hands, swallowed, and let them drop.

“So, uh,” she said as she stared down at the ground and shuffled her feet. “I…kind of just had a change of heart.”

Candeloro’s jaw dropped. “How? It’s been…like five minutes!”

“I know. But you know how your perception of time gets really weird in a dream and you could feel like it’s been hours when it’s only been like a couple minutes? Like how you wake up ten minutes before your alarm goes off and drift back to sleep and then have like this whole adventure that seems like it takes…” Charlotte seemed to realize that she was babbling and cut herself off. “Um, well, I kind of fell asleep in the zipper, and got yelled at by my past self, and she beat me up. Like, a lot.”

“Huh?”

“I finally met my past self,” Charlotte said. “You know, like the others did. And she was pissed.”

Candeloro had no idea what to think of that. “Really?”

“Yes. And…” Charlotte sighed. “Candy, I am so sorry. I’ve been an idiot, and a coward, and kind of a cruel one at that.” She ran her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. “I don’t know what got into my head, I don’t have any kind of real excuse. I just got scared and freaked out and made a really, really bad choice.”

Candeloro was finding it very hard to put her thoughts to words. She was finding it very hard to have articulate thoughts at all. “Wait, are you saying…”

“I’m not leaving you. I should have never left in the first place. And…okay, this whole thing that’s going on with you still scares the crap out of me, but I don’t have the right to abandon you, and-”

The rest of her apology was choked off: not by tears, but by Candeloro’s arms. Specifically, the ones she had thrown around Charlotte’s neck.

“Thank you,” Candeloro wept into Charlotte’s neck. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had gone.”

“God, way to make me feel worse,” Charlotte muttered, but she wrapped her arms around Candeloro’s back as well.

It felt so good to be held by her again. Candeloro was still a little angry about almost being abandoned, but the relief she felt was so much more powerful.

But then she drew back with a sigh. “But you know I’m still messed up,” she said. “I don’t know even where to begin to fix this.”

Charlotte grimaced. “Yeah. I…I can see that.”

“I mean, there’s no one in Freehaven with any experience with this kind of thing.”

“Yeah, this is kind of way above their pay grade,” Charlotte agreed. “I mean, sure, they can help an angry teenager who lost her family or someone who’s not adjusting well, but this is kind of…”

Suddenly her eyes went wide. “Wait, hold on!” she gasped. “Maybe there is someone!”

…

“Okay, confirmed!” Ophelia said into her phone. “Huggies have stopped, and C1 and C2 are on the move!”

“On the move back home, right?” Homulilly said testily.

“Uh…can’t tell yet. They’re…oh shit.”

“What?”

Ophelia dove behind a planter. “They’re headed for the roofs. Almost got spotted just now.”

“But that means they’re headed back, right?” Gretchen asked. “You go to the roofs when you want to get somewhere in a hurry, right?”

Ophelia peeked out. Then she frowned. “No, wait, they’re going the wrong way for that.”

There was a heavy pause, and then Oktavia said crankily, “Well, then, where the hell are they headed?”

“I dunno. North…eastish? Hey, I’m gonna just tail them for a bit. I’ll call you when I have some idea of what’s going on.”

“Wait, what about-”

Ophelia hung up. And then she got up to follow.

Keeping up was a lot harder than it sounded. Sure, she could probably run either one of them down, but she didn’t want to catch up, she just wanted to keep them in sight, while making sure that she stayed out of theirs. So she had to stop periodically to dart into some kind of shade and hang back until she was sure that they weren’t going to look in her direction.

Fortunately, they didn’t think that they were being followed, so they weren’t glancing over their shoulders or anything. And before too long they came to a stop and dropped down to the streets.

Ophelia came to a stop too. She had figured out where they were headed, and now that she did it made perfect sense.

“So hey,” she said, reentering the group. “I figured out where they’re heading.”

“Well?” Oktavia said. “Where?”

“Probably the one place in town with anyone that understands what Candeloro’s going through.”

…

Despite living in Freehaven her entire life, Candeloro had only been to the museum a handful of times. There had been the obligatory trip back during her integration days of course, and the odd daytrip just for the heck of it scattered over the years. She had always enjoyed the visits and had learned much, but that sort of thing had always been more of Charlotte’s thing than hers, so she had never just gone on her own, and she certainly had never had a one-on-one conversation with the museum’s curator, Astrid.

Astrid, it should be noted, was not her usual calm, unflappable self. Granted, Candeloro hadn’t even seen her during every trip, so she supposed that she didn’t have much experience to really get a read on the older woman, but she had not expected to see Astrid as shaken as she was when Candeloro and Charlotte had shown up during what had no doubt been an otherwise uneventful day looking over the exhibits and answering menial questions about the artifacts and anxiously requested a private conversation on account that she was the only other person that had gone through the same thing Candeloro had that they had any sort of access to.

Still, she had agreed, and had asked her girlfriend to keep an eye on things while she took the pair to her apartment at the back of the complex. Candeloro hadn’t known what to expect of that. Maybe a place filled with as many strange relics of the past as the museum itself was? Or maybe the exact opposite, a place with minimal comforts and Spartan trappings.

As it turned out, it was neither. Instead, the furniture was old, yet comfortable and well-used. There were a great many colorful plants sitting on shelves, on windowsills, and in corners. Several paintings were hung on the walls: some of them landscape, some of them abstract, some of them humorous caricatures, even a couple of nudes. There were several open windows, letting in plenty of sunlight.

There were a number of cats wandering around. They immediately headed for the door as Astrid entered, but upon seeing Candeloro and Charlotte behind her they froze and then bolted, all of them leaping out of one of the windows, somehow managing to avoid upsetting the two potted plants sitting on the sill.

“Are those yours?” Candeloro asked.

Astrid started a little at the question. “What, the cats? No, they’re all strays.”

“Strays?”

Astrid shrugged. “We, uh, learned a long time ago that permanent pets…get kind of depressing after a while, so we just keep the place open to local cats and sometimes birds. That way, there’s always someone fuzzy and warm about, but they don’t, uh, you don’t come home to find their, er, bodies every few years.”

Candeloro had no idea how to respond to something like that, so she said nothing.

“Uh, sit down!” Astrid said, indicating the wooden dinner table. It was covered with a white table cloth and had a vase of yellow flowers in the middle, and its wooden legs were covered with years and years of animal scratches. “Can I get you guys something? Tea, maybe?”

“Thank you,” Candeloro said as she and Charlotte took their seats. “Ginger, please. If you have it.”

“Got it. Be right back.”

Astrid hurried into the kitchen. Candeloro tried to sit still as Astrid put the kettle on and moved around the cabinets. She must have used magic to heat the water, because the kettle started singing in less than a minute.

The Norse woman returned, carrying a tray with an old but quite charming blue tea set. She set it down, handed a cup in a saucer to each of her guests, and poured them each a cup.

“Sugar?” she said.

“No, thank you.”

Astrid nodded. “So,” she said, sitting down. “Let me see if I have this right: you…are a witch,” she said, gesturing to Charlotte.

Charlotte looked down at the pearl-white skin of her hands. She glanced over her shoulder to where her tail hung down through the bars of the chair’s back. “Looks like.”

“And…you are…not,” Astrid said with a look toward Candeloro.

Candeloro took a deep breath. “No. Not anymore.”

“But you were.”

“Until about a week ago. That’s right.”

Astrid slowly breathed out. “Right. When, where, and how?”

“During the storm,” Candeloro said. “That big one that hit recently?”

“Right. We lost some trees and had some minor roof damage. None of the exhibits were damaged, fortunately. But, um, was it the storm itself, or something that happened during the storm, or…?” Astrid rolled her wrist, indicating for someone to fill in the blank.

Candeloro sighed. “It was…a very strange combination of different things coming together all at once.”

Keeping her descriptions as short as possible, Candeloro told her of the events that had led to her transformation, from the sudden arrival of Hitomi Shizuki to the subsequent problems with spiritual dissonance that they all started to feel to the battle with the karnuk and finally her own change.

“I don’t know exactly what happened or who I talked to,” Candeloro said. “I just…know I talked to someone, and they gave me a choice. And I said ‘yes.’”

“Ah. I see.” Astrid slowly stirred her tea with a small silver spoon. “Mine was…rather similar, actually.”

“I know. Th-That’s why we’re here, actually.”

“I figured.” Astrid steepled her fingers and tapped the tips against her nose. “Okay. Well, this is…a lot to take in. Does anyone else know?”

“Well, there’s us two, of course,” Charlotte said. “And the rest of our Walpurgisnacht.”

Astrid’s brow rose at that. “You’re a Walpurgisnacht?”

“Yes. Us two, and two others.”

“Ah. Well, that’s four. Who else?”

“Two close friends who also live with us,” Candeloro said. “And, uh, Hitomi Shizuki apparently figured it out.”

“I see.”

Candeloro looked down into the murky liquid in her cup. “And…everyone on board the Aurora Borealis, I guess.”

Astrid’s fingers froze in mid-tap. “The aquatic research facility?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Well.” Astrid slowly laid her hands flat onto the tabletop. “That is a lot of names.”

“I know,” Candeloro said.

“I assume you’re trying to keep this quiet?”

Candeloro felt her right eyelid start to twitch. “Trying to.”

“Understandable. I…imagine it must be…very stressful.”

“You imagine?” Charlotte said, her tone incredulous. “You went through the same thing! That’s why we’re here! She needs help! Advice! Anything!”

“Advice?”

“Yes,” Candeloro said. “Y-You see, I was friends with everyone in our Walpurgisnacht. And with our two other friends as well. I mean, back when we were alive, I knew all of them and they knew me. And…these flashbacks keep happening. They don’t remember any of it of course, but I’ll just be talking to them or even just look at them, and suddenly I’m back, reliving something significant about our past relationship, usually something tragic, and I feel…” One hand went to her temple, the fingers digging into her skin. “I feel like the other half of me is trying…trying to be all of me. I lose sense of myself, my name starts…” She slowly breathed out. “I don’t know how to handle this. I don’t know when the next flash will come or how hard it’ll hit. I just know it gets harder and harder each time to reestablish who I am.” She looked pleadingly into Astrid’s pale silver eyes. “But you had to have gone through the same thing, right? There has to be something you can do to help me!”

“I understand,” Astrid said. “But you have to understand…my change was literally centuries ago! And…I was a little preoccupied with escaping the Withering Lands at the time.”

Candeloro and Charlotte both stared at her in dismay. “So, you…didn’t have those flashes? You didn’t struggle with your sense of identity?”

Astrid let out a long, belabored sigh. “I…didn’t encounter anyone I had known in life. There was no one to trigger any of those flashbacks. Occasionally someone would say something or I would see something that would bring an old memory into stark relief, but those were rare. Besides, after Zoya and I had stolen that boat and headed off to sea, there was a very, very long and uncomfortable trip before we wound up in Freehaven. Let’s just say I had plenty of time and space to really sift through my memories and come to terms with myself.”

Candeloro felt a lump start to form in her throat. She stared back down at her reflection in the murky liquid. “And you decided to go b-by Astrid.”

Astrid shrugged. “My time as Sif was pretty miserable. Granted, my life as Astrid wasn’t exactly fantastic either, but it was at least better. It was an easy change to make.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to make that change,” Charlotte said. “She wants to stay being Candeloro, at least in her head. So is there anything you can suggest? Any…tricks or some kind of meditation or something? I mean, part of your job is to help people like you!”

“Yes. Other runaway Void Walkers,” Astrid said. “There aren’t very many of the un-witched coming by Freehaven. In fact, you would make number two.”

“What about the others?” Candeloro said, perking up.

“The others?”

“Yes! The other…the other un-witched. You know them, don’t you? Can’t they help us?”

Astrid made a face. “Shared experience doesn’t necessarily mean we’re friends. Actually, you and I are the only humans that have done so.”

“So? I have alien friends.”

“So do I. But when they’re from species that don’t exactly get along with Freehaven, it makes establishing any kind of rapport a bit of a problem.” Astrid scooped up a spoonful of tea and slowly let it spill back into her cup. “Also, just because someone is on the record of having un-witched sometime in the distant past doesn’t mean that they’re still around. Two of them ended up becoming Void Walkers and have since been released.”

“Oh,” Candeloro said.

“Or at least that’s the official story anyway. And of the others…Filsa the nask ended up getting kidnapped and was never heard from again. Nitrogen and Blitzkrieg the calliopes…well, Nitrogen served as dance leader of her territory for a number of years before retiring. I suppose I could look her up, but she’s something of an attention whore, so if you want to keep your condition under wraps, she’s probably the last person you want to talk to. And last I heard of Blitzkrieg, she’s currently running a cult somewhere out in some remote territory where she’s worshipped as a god.”

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “Huh.”

“As for the others, well, Ostilk Misanti Viskero the andalite is apparently something of a recluse. She didn’t care much for the fame her condition brought her, and her current location is a closely guarded secret. And you know andalites and their secrets.” Astrid sighed. “Honestly, your best bet would be to contact Silvet the dockengaut.”

Candeloro nearly leapt out of her chair. Charlotte actually did so. “Wait, the last of the un-witched is a dockengaut?” Charlotte said, her voice cracking.

“Yes, believe it or not. And she’s actually on our side, as such things are judged.”

“What,” Candeloro said flatly.

Astrid spread her hands. “There are a small number of dockengauts that do not subscribe to their species’ predatory values. A few even defected after those videos went out. You know the ones, right?”

Candeloro shuddered. Apparently, once the dockengauts’ cannibalistic nature had been made known, several species had banded together in an attempt to intimidate them. The dockengauts’ response had been to send each and every one of them a video showing them devouring a member of each of the species that had allied against them, in graphic detail. Candeloro had never seen any of the infamous recordings, but apparently Charlotte had. And she had stalwartly refused to ever divulge what she had seen.

She glanced over to Charlotte. Sure enough, her wife looked like she was going to be sick.

“I see that you do,” Astrid said with a grim smile. “Anyway, believe it or not, there were a few dockengauts that didn’t care for that attitude, and ended up running away. One of them was a dockengaut witch. And she ended up, well, un-witching during her escape. I’ve only met her a couple of times, but she seemed…pretty decent. A bit shy, actually.”

“Excuse me?” Charlotte said. “A decent dockengaut? And she’s shy?”

“They do exist. Though the rest of their species tend to regard them the same way regard sociopaths. You know, as someone who is critically mentally ill. Anyway, last I heard she was working in Budbrekka. It’s a Norse encampment in the foothills far to the north, one of the last ones. I still try to keep in contact with them, as there aren’t many of us left. I can probably arrange-”

“No, thank you,” Candeloro said hastily. “I’m sorry, I’m sure…she is a very lovely…swarm of cannibalistic spiders, but I’d rather not talk to a dockengaut right now.”

“I thought not.”

Charlotte slumped back into her chair. “Well, I guess that’s that. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Hold on,” Astrid said, holding up a hand. “Now, my experiences may not line up with yours, but I do pride myself as a practical woman. You have to be to last as long as I have.”

“Your point?” Charlotte said.

“It seems to me that part of the problem is that you’re too close to things that are closely connected to your past. You’re constantly exposing yourself to memory triggers, at a time when the wounds are still raw.”

Candeloro swallowed. “So, uh, what are you suggesting?”

…

When Candeloro and Charlotte got back to the house, they found everyone already gathered in the living room, waiting for them.

Candeloro entered first, with Charlotte nervously hanging behind. “I’m back,” she said as she stepped inside. “Well, we’re back, and-”

Then she saw all four pairs of eyes staring expectantly at her.

Candeloro paused, her hand still on the doorknob. She looked at each face in turn before sighing and saying, “Were you spying on us?”

“Yes,” Ophelia said without hesitation.

“So you heard everything?”

“No. Your talk was your talk, so visual only.”

“Well. Thank you for granting us that measure of privacy at least,” Candeloro said in a clipped tone. “Then I guess this part doesn’t need explaining.”

She stood to one side and motioned for Charlotte to enter. Wincing, Charlotte stepped inside the house.

“Um, hi guys,” she said.

“Hi,” Gretchen said. No one else returned the greeting. Ophelia and Oktavia both leaned back in their seats, Ophelia with her legs crossed and arms behind her head and Oktavia with her hands folded in her lap. Homulilly just sat with her arms crossed, waiting.

Her head bowed, Charlotte shuffled her feet. “I guess…I owe you some kind-”

“Motherfucking, bitch-ass traitor!” Cheese suddenly screeched from the kitchen.

Charlotte paused. “Okay. Harsh. But…fair, I guess.”

“Who taught him the word ‘traitor’?” Candeloro asked.

“I did,” Ophelia said. “Or rather, the last wrestling PPV I watched did. Major heel turn. I was pissed.”

“Right,” Charlotte said. “Um, so, like I said, I owe all of you a huge apology.”

“You mean for straight-up running out on us without so much as a text message?” Oktavia said.

“Yes. For that.”

“For abandoning your wife when she needed you the most,” Homulilly said.

“Also that. Yeah.”

“For completely shutting us out so that Gretchen and Homulilly had to go commit actual crimes and get arrested just to have some sense talked into you?” Ophelia said.

“W-Well, that wasn’t exactly-”

“Ahem!”

Charlotte sighed. “Okay. Yes. For that too. And everything else.”

“Okay,” Ophelia said. “Well, say your piece.”

Charlotte swallowed. “Look. I don’t…have some kind of well-reasoned, logical reason for doing what I did. I got scared. Like, really scared. I guess I really do have a lot of issues about, you know, our past selves, about how I wasn’t actually part of your group, and about any part of that coming back. Yeah, I know you told me that it doesn’t matter, but…I don’t know. I got a bad case of the stupid.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Ophelia said.

“Yeah.” Charlotte sighed. “And…when Candy changed, I thought that, you know, the Candeloro part was gone for good. That it was just Mami Tomoe that was left. I thought my wife was gone, and I couldn’t…”

“Okay, okay, question,” Oktavia interrupted. “Look, we know that already. We figured that part out right away. But why the hell wouldn’t you talk to anyone of us? Why wouldn’t you try to find out if you were right or not? Why just assume that it’s true and split? Wouldn’t you, um, want to at least verify before you lock all your friends out and throw your life away?”

“Ugh. I know, I know! It was stupid! I guess..” Charlotte shook her head. “I guess that…once I had calmed down and started to think about it, I guess I got scared that I was wrong. And if I was wrong, that meant that I turned my back on my family for nothing.”

Ophelia coughed into her fist. “Whichyoudid.”

“Ophelia,” Candeloro said, warning in her voice.

“No, she’s right,” Charlotte said. “But I just kept telling myself that I was right, that I really had lost Candeloro and that meant I was justified in leaving. You know, the universe had conspired to take away the person that I loved the most, so what did I owe it?”

“We’re not the universe,” Homulilly said. “We’re…us.”

“I know! I know! But…imagine if Gretchen had been replaced with someone else. Like, the girl you loved was gone and never coming back, but there was someone that still looked like her, that talked like her, that acted like her, but it wasn’t her, and everyone was openly accepting this new Gretchen in the place of the old one, and they wanted you to just take the new Gretchen when you knew that the one you loved was gone for good.”

“But…that’s not what happened!” Oktavia protested. Her tail started bouncing in its support apparatus, a tic that kicked in whenever she was agitated. “She wasn’t gone! She was just…you know, sort of expanded upon in a kind of disturbing way.”

“I know that now! And I guess I knew that then! But…oh, I don’t know, I was really scared that it was the way I thought it was, so I just kept telling myself that it was that way until I half-believed it!”

“So I guess Homulilly and Gretchen showing up at your hidey-hole wasn’t enough to make you think otherwise,” Ophelia said.

“No,” Charlotte admitted. She glanced over to where Candeloro was standing. “I mean, yeah, they convinced me to at least talk with her before I left, but I still went in thinking I was right.”

“And seeing how you kind of ran away after all that, Candeloro didn’t have much luck either.”

Charlotte’s mouth set in a straight line. “I mean, sort of? She told me some things that I wasn’t expecting, and it scared me, so that’s why I ran.”

“Huh? What’s that mean?”

“I mean she kind of showed me that I was being an idiot. Kind of hard to lie to yourself after that.” Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair while her tail roped itself around her upper thigh. “Also, it’s kind of hard to lie to yourself when yourself is straight up calling you out on your bullshit while she punches your face in.”

As expected, this pronouncement was met with mostly confusion from her housemates, mainly in the form of more blank stares and the scratching of heads.

“Huh?” Gretchen said, tilting her head to one side.

“You’ve lost me,” Oktavia added.

Charlotte swallowed. “Um, you know those dreams you guys apparently had back on the Aurora Borealis where you all met your past selves and made peace or whatever?”

“How’d you know about those?” Ophelia demanded.

“Word got back to me. Anyway, after I got into that zipper, I kind of fell asleep and, well, had one of my own. And it turns out my past self didn’t really approve of recent life decisions and decided to tell me. And she beat me up. Like, a lot.”

“Okay,” Ophelia said after a very long bout of silence. “Where exactly does the metaphor end and stuff that actually happened begin here?”

“I don’t know, it was weird!” Charlotte groused. “But that…that was kind of the wake-up call I needed. So that’s why I turned that thing around.”

“And that’s when you decided to go to the museum, to get advice from Astrid!” Oktavia said, her tail excitedly bouncing.

“Yeah.”

Gretchen looked up, her face hopeful. “But you’re back now, right? I mean, what you just said was extremely weird, but you two made up, so we can…start fixing things now? Go back…well, get used to how things are and be a whole family again, right?”

The younger girl’s voice was so full of hope that Candeloro hated herself for what came next. “Not yet.”

“Excuse me?” Homulilly said. In sharp contrast to Gretchen’s, her voice was full of steel and poison, the sort of tone that not lightly offended.

“Listen,” Candeloro said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate how helpful and accepting you all have been. You’ve all been wonderful. But-”

“You’re leaving,” Homulilly finished for her. When everyone stared at her, she looked around at everyone and rolled her eyes. “What? That’s what she’s saying, isn’t it? We went from losing one member of the family to losing two! That’s the opposite of what was supposed to happen!”

Candeloro said, “Homulilly-”

“No!” Homulilly leapt to her feet and thrust an angry, bony finger at her. “Listen to me! Gretchen and I went and got ourselves into a lot of trouble for you, for both of you! We might go to jail! But okay, that would have been worth it if it got you and Charlotte to make up and everyone was home. But instead, you’re both going away! How is that fair?”

“Hey, I agree with the floral skeleton,” Oktavia broke in. In contrast to Homulilly’s cold steel, she sounded like she couldn’t decide whether to start yelling or burst into tears, but it was no less angry. “What the hell? We’re family! We’re a Walpurgisnacht! Our souls are literally connected! Now you’re just gonna, what, go away? After everything? Charlotte was the one that walked out on you! Why are you choosing her over us?”

Charlotte openly winced at that. “It’s not like that!” Candeloro said quickly. “I-It’s true, we do need to leave for a while, but we’re not going away forever! Probably not even a full year.”

While all this was going on, Ophelia was merely sitting still, upper body leaning forward with her skinny arms crossed over her knees, scarlet eyes boring holes into the two of them. “Explain,” her voice having all the steel of Homulilly’s and all the fire of Oktavia’s.

Though it was hard to keep her voice steady and not to trip over her words, Candeloro did her best to explain the slips of memory she had been experiencing, starting with the one with the marshal and then detailing the ones she had been having with all of her friends. She told them about how her sense of self was far more fluid than she would have liked, and how it was happening more and more often.

“…and the more it happens, the harder it is to regain my sense of self,” she finished. “And yes, you have all been wonderful, but staying here only makes it worse. These memories just keep getting triggered, and I don’t know when the next one will hit.”

“You know there are quite a few qualified people here in Freehaven to help with that,” Ophelia pointed out. Her anger seemed to have cooled, though the firmness had not.

“And none of them can help me with this!” Candeloro said, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, but they can’t! Not even Astrid could! Besides, I can’t talk to any of them without risking blowing my secret!”

Homulilly inhaled sharply through her teeth. “Well, I mean, between us, Astrid, Hitomi, and like at least fifty people over in that science boat, I’d say that’s a ticking time bomb already.”

“Exactly! That’s another reason why I need to just…go somewhere else for a while. Wait for things to blow over.”

Ophelia tilted her head to one side. “And Charlotte?”

“Look,” Charlotte said with a sigh. “I got scared and did a bad thing. And this whole deal still kind of scares me. So, we both have a lot of things we need to come to terms with.”

Gretchen had mostly remained silent during the whole exchange. She had watched with a thoughtful look, privately musing over everything that was being said. And now she spoke, doing so carefully and with great deliberation. “So…you’re not really leaving us. You’re just getting some space to help you deal with these new problems so that when you do come back you’ll both be healthy.”

“Yes,” Candeloro said with a grateful sigh. Leave it to Gretchen to give things the best spin possible. And it wasn’t like she was wrong. “Thank you. That’s it exactly.”

However, Oktavia was less than mollified. “But what if you don’t?” she said, her voice nearly rising to a shout. “What if you don’t come back? What if you get scared like Charlotte did and you don’t ever come back?”

“It won’t! I promise-”

“No! No promises right now. You don’t know what’s going to happen, none of us know what’s going to happen, so don’t promise something you can’t keep! Like, half a week ago we were all set to have our family get bigger! Then all this shit happened, and now you have to leave! What if something new happens?”

“Tavi, babe,” Ophelia said, rising to go over to her. “It’s okay. You don’t-”

Oktavia swatter her hand away. “No! Don’t tell me it’s going to be okay when you don’t know it’s going to be okay. You don’t know that, no one knows that!”

“Oktavia,” Candeloro said. “I-”

Now openly crying, Oktavia roughly grabbed the controls to her chair and wretched it around. “No. I can’t deal with this right now. I’m…I just can’t. Not now.”

Everyone watched as she stomped off toward her and Ophelia’s room. A moment later the door slammed.

“Well,” Ophelia said after a long while. “Look. I’ll talk to her after she’s had some time to cool down. But tell me honestly: do you really have to go?”

“For a little while,” Candeloro said. “Yeah.”

Ophelia’s jaw clenched up. “But you are coming back? Once you two got all your issues worked out, you’re coming back to us. Right?”

Everything in Ophelia’s voice made it clear that they damned well better.

“Yes,” Candeloro said. “I swear.”

“I see.” Ophelia looked down at the ground, and then up at them. “You’ll keep in touch, at least. Right?”

“Of course we will! It’s not like we’re falling right off the map.”

“Heh. There’s probably places where you can literally do that.” Then Ophelia let out a long sigh. She walked over to the pair and laid a hand on Candeloro’s shoulder.

“Okay,” she said. “But you get better. I don’t care what you’re calling yourself when you come back, I know it’ll still be you. Just get yourself better, okay?”

Candeloro swallowed. She wanted to reassure her that she most definitely would, but she suddenly found herself unable to speak.

So she settled for grabbing Ophelia in a tight embrace instead.

There came a low patter of incredibly thin legs, followed by the steps of two perfectly normal ones, and soon two more pairs joined them. Candeloro, Ophelia, Gretchen, and Homulilly all stood there, wrapped up in each other’s love.

Then without releasing her grip or raising her head, Ophelia said, “Charlotte, you waiting for a written invitation. Get in on this!”

“Oh!” Charlotte said in genuine surprise. “Uh, right away!” Soon her arms were holding the whole group from behind Candeloro.

Then they heard a door open in another place of the house, followed by the whine-hiss of Oktavia’s chair. The mermaid herself appeared a moment later.

Everyone paused, and then turned to look at her. Oktavia’s eyes were red and wet, and her nose looked raw, as if it had been blown very hard recently.

She moved her chair closer. “Okay, look,” she said. “I’m still mad at you, and I’m still going to yell at you later. But I really need a hug too, and you guys don’t get to have one without me!”

“Well, come on then,” Homulilly said. Oktavia came in closer, and Homulilly and Ophelia both lifted her up by the arms and brought her in to join them, completing the set.

Candeloro sighed. Genuinely happy moments seemed to be hard to come by as of late, but this most certainly was one.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank-”

“-you.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it!” Sayaka said with a happy slap onto Mami’s back. “I mean, we’re a team, aren’t we? You woulda done the same for any of us.”

That much was true, but Mami still was grateful. She had gotten a little cocky during that last witch fight, and had nearly lost her head as a result. Had she been alone, she would have surely died.

But she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

Madoka rushed up to her and clutched her hand with both of her own. “But please be more careful, Mami-san!” she said. “You scared me back there!”

“I will,” Mami promised. “I guess that just goes to show that even when you have a lot of experience, you can still get careless.”

“A hard lesson to learn,” Homura Akemi agreed. The dark and mysterious new member to their group held out her hand. There was a flash of violet light, and she was suddenly clad in her normal clothes again, her soul gem reduced to a small, silver ring. “Still, I am glad that you’re unhurt.”

Then she smiled. It was a rare thing for Homura Akemi to smile, but here one was. Mami just wished that she hadn’t needed to endanger her own life in order to see one.

“Come on, I’ll race you guys back!” Madoka took off running, heading up the road toward Mami’s apartment.

“Hey, Madoka! Wait up!” Sayaka ran after her. A moment later Homura followed.

Mami didn’t run after them. Let them have their fun. She would catch up soon enough.

Besides, it wasn’t like she was alone.

“That was a kinda dumb move,” Kyoko remarked as she started to walk beside Mami. “Seriously, what were you thinking, showing off like that? The kids are already impressed with you. No need to drop your guard like that.”

“I know. You’re right. I’ll…set a better example in the future.”

“Hmmm.” Kyoko pulled out one of those boxes of pocky she always seemed to have on hand. “Still, don’t tell the others I said this, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

She opened the box, and held it out toward her.

Mami blinked. She looked down at the pocky, and then up at Kyoko.

“Well,” Kyoko said, giving the box a jiggle.

Smiling, Mami took one of the candy sticks and bit into it. It was good.

“I’m glad you came back,” she said as the two started up the hill together.

“Hey, don’t go getting all sappy on me,” Kyoko said as she stuck a stick into her mouth. “I just didn’t like the thought of you going crazy all by yourself. You kinda go to pieces when you don’t have anyone around to watch you. It kinda sucks to be alone, you know?”

“I know,” Mami said. She looked up the hill at their juniors. “But I’m not alone. Not anymore.”

Her arms still entwined with those of her loved ones, Mami’s eyes welled up. Again her sense of self had shifted, but this time she didn’t try to fight it. Because there were happy memories mixed with the bad, and if Mami Tomoe and Candeloro were to be the same person from now on, then at least she was getting those as well.

…

So, um.

Writing this…was a journey, and if I do end up doing a look-back on the Hitomi/Mami arc, this chapter will get a very long section all to itself.

Jesus Christ.

Anyway, this is it. Epilogue goes up next week, hopefully.

Until next time, everyone.

#Walpurgis Nights #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #kriemhild gretchen #homulilly #ophelia #oktavia von seckendorff #candeloro #charlotte #fanfic #hitomi shizuki

[schalaasha]

Top 20 Games of the Decade

Hi, I felt like writing about my top 20 games of the decade because I kept thinking about it. This is a semi-ranked list, but I decided not to throw numbers into the mix since, really, outside of the top 2, I can’t think of how to rank the games prior to them. I also commissioned hyiroaerak (@/HRAK__S2 on twitter, https://hyiroaerak.weebly.com/work.html) for art to commemorate this occasion.  Our characters are cosplaying as characters from our games of the decade!

Mega Man 10

I actually like Mega Man 10 more than Mega Man 9 out of the two platformer revival games in this series. Though a bit of background on this: Mega Man 4 is my favourite, and I prefer the games that are not 2, 6, 7, or 11, so I suppose that contextualises this for others.         Either way, despite it not having weapons that were as useful as Mega Man 9’s, I felt like 10’s level design and pacing worked more for me in my favour. Though I’m saying that as someone who liked the double fortress design in earlier games so that might invalidate how I feel.

 Time Attack mode from Mega Man 9 returns as well as Proto Man (but he’s unlockable right off the bat). It also has a proper Challenge Mode compared to Mega Man 9’s challenges, whereby challenges for certain levels or bosses are unlocked when you actually do it in the main game. Being able to play as Proto Man off the bat allows for the fluidity Mega Man had in 3 and beyond by letting you slide and use charged shots. I personally liked being able to play as Proto Man off the bat as while he has the 3 and beyond advantages for his moveset, he is a glass cannon and you still have to watch where you’re going.

 I feel like the levels were a little better designed and if I needed more of a challenge, Hard Mode was still there to cut my teeth on. I liked the colour schemes throughout the level maps a lot more than 9’s as well. The bosses felt particularly gripping and trading blows with them fit into a nice rhythm.

 It has more content than Mega Man 9 and I had a lot more fun with 10 than I did with either 9 or 11. The formula itself is pretty static compared to other Mega Man games, but I like simple things. Why fix what isn’t broken? It’s just a nice piece of cake at the end of the day and that’s all I really want.

  Trauma Team / HOSPITAL: 6人の医師

When I started university for the first time in 2006, I was pre-med.  I eventually got sick and tired of the politics and people in the program (ie: folks saying they only wanted to go to med school so they can get rich or make friends with pharma reps who might give them perks), and I left the program to pursue program majors and a minor to prepare me for speech-language pathology instead.

 We had a Wii in our student lounge. My main university campus wasn’t exactly big and a lot of the people who hung out in the student center were kind of cliquey. I think I had the benefit of being really good friends with one of the guys who was the biggest social butterflies at the school so I got to meet a lot of people or get involved with stuff if I felt like it. So that meant I got to play with other students in games or wi-fi sessions during classes or after classes if I didn’t have to commute home right away.

 Because almost everyone I knew at my school wanted to go into medicine, everyone played the Trauma series. Some kids played Under the Knife during class. Some kids played Second Opinion on the Wii in the student lounge. Some kids played New Blood. This was before like… Farmville took over everyone’s computers at the time.

 Trauma Team came out way after that, and some of us were either graduating or staying in school an extra year because we didn’t know what to do after the recession or knew what to do but needed extra courses for graduate school.  So the Wii was free to use.  I don’t think people hooked it up as often anymore anyway. By 2010, a lot of us who had met each other in first year decided to go our separate ways, not even in the same majors or programs anymore. A lot of us either branched out into research, psychology, neurology (like me), kinesiology, epidemiology, forensics, genetics, etc. So Trauma Team for the rest of us who were still there was a good fit.

 Trauma Team took some influences from the 2009 Swine Flu pandemic considering that was when the development phase occurred. Now, I live in Canada, and Canada was one of the focal points for the 2003 SARS outbreak. This was when health bodies in the country decided to make some changes to how they respond to potential pandemics. A lot of things they tell medical students or any students studying health policy (like I was at the time) emphasized how different parts of the hospital or medical or health care staff need to work together in order to care for a patient. I actually find the different professions involved in Trauma Team useful and a reflection of what my class of 2010/2011 became later on (a lot of us graduated in 2011 and took an extra year).

 Diagnostics and Forensics were what I was really interested in since they don’t play the same as surgery/emergency medicine since they played out like a point-and-click. Later on in life, I had to look at so many medical reports and radiology reports and file them but by then I realised what my patients had but I can’t tell them myself since I’m not a doctor. But Trauma Team gave me a chance to do so and practice my terminology as a student. A friend of mine, who ended up becoming a doctor at a hospital in Toronto, really enjoyed endoscopy since it merely involved using the Wiimote as an endoscope and the nunchuk to steer. A lot of us played co-op too.

 The difficulty in Trauma Team, I felt, was decreased from previous games. But that doesn’t really spoil it. It was a varied game and it looks fantastic. It’s a shame that the game style hasn’t been replicated or given a sequel in later years, because while I’m older and my classmates are doing completely different things and I haven’t seen some of them in years, I’d love to take a stab at these types of games with a well-practiced laboratory technologist’s hand.

  Sonic Colours

I think it goes without saying. My first community when I joined the old forum was the Sonic community. Just a bunch of people who were interested in talking about Sonic so much in almost every thread that we ended up making a community thread together. I don’t post in the new forum everyone is at but I still talk to mostly everyone via different social mediums.

 I wasn’t around when Sonic Colours came out but I think I remember reading the joy everyone felt when nearly universally everyone in that thread seemed to really like Sonic Colours. I remember the thread title still. I preordered Sonic Colours because apparently previews were saying it was… good? I didn’t bother playing Sonic Unleashed until after I’d joined the forum, but hearing Sonic Colours would be a return to form since I was one of those people who didn’t adjust well to the 3D games made me interested.

 Sonic Colours is everything I wanted from a 3D Sonic game. Or rather, a 3D version of a platformer. I didn’t really like where 3D platformers were going because they were hard to look at, hard for me to pay attention to, and to be honest I got dizzy while playing a lot of them since you’re expected to work in a 3D space as opposed to a 2D space so it was really hard for me to process. I really like the hybrid nature of the level designs that’s where Sonic Colours got me.

 Sonic Colours isn’t without its hangups: some of the levels are really short; existing mostly for ranking/getting red rings. Sonic’s jump is pretty floaty. The script is fairly short even if the jokes can be funny. Bosses are reused. Sonic Colours is not a perfect game, but the attempts it made were fantastic enough in its own right.

 The music continues to be great, but the areas are visual spectacles. Whatever you think of the series, it’s fairly undeniable that the games try to have style. From the lighting, to posing, to setpieces, to colours used in assets in the level design – Sonic has always had really great ideas.  Sonic Colours is no exception – areas like Aquarium Park, Planet Wisp, and Sweet Mountain have a variety of neat level ideas and they look good trying to execute it. From popcorn on the floor to one of the best darned water levels in all of video games due to the drill wisp, to a fresh take on a grassy knoll with beautiful music, Sonic Colours can bring tears to your eyes because of what it attempts. Terminal Velocity Act 2 is also one of my favourite parts of the Uncolourations games partially because it’s a well-executed setpiece, but it also showed me that maybe those 3D racing bits aren’t that bad.

 The bosses may be really easy, and the final boss ends far sooner than it should before it could perfectly execute its Kamen Rider reference, but I think the point was to fully enjoy the theme park that Sonic Team threw at you this time.

 In 2020 I like to say that out of all of the Uncolourations games, Sonic Unleashed is my favourite due to the balance it struck and its presentation/artstyle, and basically having one of the best soundtracks of the previous decade. But I recognise everything that Sonic Colours brought to the table. If it wasn’t for Sonic Colours, I wouldn’t be friends or acquaintances with so many people that I am with now.

  Kirby’s Epic Yarn

Have you ever played a game that made you feel warm and toasty? Canadian winters can be really cold, you know.

 When I lived at my old run-down house, my old room didn’t have good insulation. Whenever it got cold, my room got really cold. I had my own personal heater because we didn’t really have a good heating system in my room either. So I only wore flannel pyjamas, wrapped myself in faux-wool blankets all the time, and went to sleep covered in at least four quilts or comforters (which is something I still do out of habit sorry). I used to make hot choco every day because it was just so cold in my room.

 I love Kirby’s Epic Yarn. Kirby’s Epic Yarn makes me feel warm and toasty inside because I think of being wrapped up in yarn and sheets and scarves and I just feel so happy. There are so many pastels used in KEY’s earlier stages that I can’t help but to feel toasty and happy when I’m playing it. It’s not the most challenging game. The game is really easy and all you mostly do is collect furniture, music, beads, and parts of the results wheel in every level, but I don’t think that’s the point of it. The point is just to have fun. Watching Kirby turn into a car to sprint, watching him turn into a little parachute or transform during those vehicle bits, you just can’t help but to feel so enveloped by the cute.

 Being able to interact with cloth by pulling a loose button and releasing something, taking off tags, pulling on stray thread, spin balls of yarn… it feels so fulfilling because it’s a clever use of the medium. It’s exactly what you’d do if you’re stitching or knitting. Placing furniture around Kirby’s little apartment makes the Animal Crossing fan in me so happy.

 I appreciate the lengths Good-Feel went to producing the level designs. They took photos of the fabric they bought and created the graphics that way. The music is calm and relaxing, with lots of woodwind and piano and lighter sounding instruments. The entire game feels so soft and sweet. It’s a visually-impressive game since everything animates incredibly fluidly.

  Cuphead

Like anyone my age or older, I grew up watching a lot of older cartoons by Max Fleischer with watercolour backgrounds, hand-drawn characters with a lot of focus on expressions, rotoscoping, etc Lots of slapstick and musical scores out of that decade.  I would have never believed I’d play a video game that looks like that but here we are playing Cuphead this decade.

 Cuphead is a blend of that artstyle with older run and gun style games. It combines a gunning experience with puzzles, reflexive actions, and dying… and dying a lot. And learning. Underneath it’s cartoony and child-friendly veneer lies a game that is unrelentingly difficult. There aren’t really any checkpoints in the game save for one. You can’t regain lost health. It’s just you versus the game. You may spend hours on one single level learning everything about it. And you can’t beat the game until you finish off every other level on regular difficulty.

 Different levels have different forms: they can be run and guns á la Contra, which are actually, oddly enough, breathing room levels. They’re probably the “easiest” levels in the game. Other types of levels can be straight up shmup-like boss fights where you’re flying in a plane. They can be hard as a regular shmup.

 The best crafted types of levels are the ones that include platforming as part of their boss battles because they use the artstyle and ideas involved in the art piece as interesting platforming mechanics. You have a more limited control scheme but the scenario you’re involved in is really interesting and unique. You fight a woman in a play and the setpieces in the play change according to how far you are in the boss fight, for example. The game also has a parry mechanic whereby you can double-jump off of anything that’s coloured pink and fill your super meter in order to kill bosses faster. The parry cues change per boss so it’s really cool to see what they look like every time you encounter something new.

 I think while Cuphead can be utterly unforgiving, I think it should be experienced at least once for how much work was put into making things look so fluid and how creative every boss and level can be. It’s what I wanted the UBIart framework to eventually evolve into. I think the game’s aesthetics and sound are its own reward in addition to that feeling when you finally conquer That One Boss.

  Asura’s Wrath

Asura’s Wrath was a game I was incredibly iffy on even buying at all. I heard about how the ending was part of paid DLC, that the game didn’t have a lot of gameplay, and that it was incredibly unremarkable. I don’t think I had a remarkably low bar or anything for this, but I decided to purchase it on the cheap.

 Asura’s Wrath definitely isn’t a game for everyone, and I feel as though it’s an acquired taste. The main character’s art might not jive well with everyone, the lack of ‘play’ will probably deter some folks, and its episodic nature/final chapter unlock sequence would probably get on people’s nerves. With that said, at first, it seems to be an action-cinematic game without necessarily expanding on the “action” part. A lot of it at first seems to be a bunch of QTEs to move the narrative along, with the narrative not necessarily being that strong in the first place. I think that’s due in part to the game’s structure initially. The first few chapters and the first act truly don’t seem very remarkable. The Buddhist and Hindu aspects of the game are very obvious and very central to the game’s plot, but at the same time, they don’t seem to be specifically mentioned whenever someone talks about the game to me. The Asuras were not one singular character or a god, but a race of warlike beings exhibiting wrath and pride. They were incorporated into Hinduism and Buddhism through their mention in The Rigveda. With that said, I was continually impressed by how many references—whether it was mere mention of regular terms/concepts/people, the artstyle and inclusions of things like lacquer skin, mandorlas, Vajras and Pretas, and also Siddham script—was included in this game. Asura’s Wrath ended up feeling incredibly natural and a nice way of shedding some light on non-Judeo-Christian religions.

 Anyway, I genuinely liked that the game felt like a playable anime. I don’t feel like the game would be as effective if it were put into another genre, or were less cinematic. It ends up getting its message across with its carefully-researched artstyle, great scene direction, well-composed music, and penchant for feeling like it was a fantastic shounen anime. I also feel like the game has more combo-based gameplay than people give it credit for. A lot of the complexities come to the forefront on Hard mode, and going for S-ranks and finding ways to do that quickly and effectively on higher difficulty modes is always an interesting affair.

  Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective

I finished marathoning all of the Ace Attorney games in 2010. I don’t recall if I was doing it before Ghost Trick but I think what enticed me to get the game was its amazing animation. I hadn’t seen 2D sprites move that fluidly in a very long time. Characters have exaggerated movements, exaggerated dances (ie: the panic dance), and they have big flashy gestures to show off the game’s animation engine.

 You’re introduced to all sorts of eccentric characters, many of whom don’t overstay their welcome (Circus case from AA2, I’m looking at you). You have a desk lamp, a doggo, a dancing detective, a little girl who’s the focal point for one episode, etc. Everyone’s dialogue is relatively snappy, their expressions and animations make them stand out from others, and due to how everything is presented right down to the character art portraits, everything just jumps off the screen.

 Because you’re a spirit with amnesia, you’re given the ability to go through time, and also the ability to through environments by hopping from object to object and possessing them in order to influence what happens in the past to save people in the present.  This is just a path to trying to figure out who you really are or to find who or what killed you. A lot of the gameplay revolves around trying to figure out which objects to manipulate and when in order to influence an outcome. It makes the game partially point and click, but also partially a physics puzzler. I don’t think I remember a single object in the puzzle segments that was wasted. In other circumstances, you must manipulate time in order to save someone in their last four minutes.

 If anything, I feel like Ghost Trick is a necessary inclusion simply because of its style and attention to detail, as well as its sort but sweet story where nothing overstays its welcome. Its soundtrack also feels similar. The game is fairly consistent and nothing really changes in terms of progression over most of the game. But I see that as a plus as opposed to a minus for the most part. It helps to bring the game to a compelling and surprising conclusion.

  Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood

I marathoned all of the Assassin’s Creed games in one year prior to Assassin’s Creed III since I wanted to see what the deal was with the series because the first game wasn’t that great from a play perspective for me. The thing that resonates the most with respect to Assassin’s Creed for me is marshmallow-flavoured birthday cake and a bag of regular Bugles. I started this marathon on one of my birthdays that decade.

 Assassin’s Creed II is one of my favourite games out there, but Brotherhood adds so much to the formula despite its middling storyline compared to its predecessor. But that’s because most of Ezio’s growth happened in the previous game. He is a middle-aged man searching for the Apple of Eden, and while the story does not carry as much emotional impact, that isn’t exactly what I’m looking for with respect to the earlier AC games.

 One of the things I absolutely love about the earlier AC games is its attention to detail even if it isn’t necessarily completely accurate. At first I missed the fact that I could explore many different towns like I could in AC2. But then I realised how big Rome and its surrounding area is. Rome is gigantic, and it has so much attention to detail with historical buildings everywhere (which you need to pay to rebuild), old tapestries from the era, citizens dancing in the streets, lovers flirting with each other behind pillars, etc. There are more roofs and buildings to parkour over and between. The game adds towards that require you to take over them before you can use them to gain access to vendors and things to renovate. You can also find the glyphs (much like the ones from the previous game) to solve puzzles in order to gain access to more lore.

 I genuinely love the renovation aspect of this game. It’s more involved and a lot better than what the previous game tried to do with its economy. You renovate in order to gain access to shops, which in-turn generates income for you, and then you can renovate other stuff based on the income that you generate. It’s something that I’ve come to miss in later AC games. It felt a lot like a Suikoden game in some aspects.

 Platforming missions return in the form of finding parts of a cult and cutting the beginnings of a conspiracy off by its limbs. They’re faster paced than AC2’s tombs and there is more variety in terms of what you platform through. I like both types equally since one allows you to marvel at the beauty of a cathedral, while the other allows you to clock a few folks while making your way through a lair.

 In addition to the lairs, there are different types of missions for each faction that you forge alliances with, there are Da Vinci missions that involve new war toys and blowing things up in a scripted way. Assassin missions can vary in terms of how you carry out the assassins (albeit still scripted; improvisation was not a thing until ACUnity).

 The crux of AC: Brotherhood is being able to recruit assassins to your cause. Random citizens throughout Rome may be under attack by Borgia soldiers, and once you save them, they are recruited to join your cause. You level them up, send them out on missions, improve their gear, and ask for their help when you can and when they’re available. This feature gets expanded upon in later AC games but it gets a very good start here.

 Brotherhood is so full of content and a lot of little things that playing it for me makes it feel like comfort food for me. It may not have the best story and it certainly isn’t as memorable in that sense as its predecessor. But it’s so fun that I can’t help but to feel satisfied every time I turn it on.

  Pac-Man Championship Edition DX

I played the original Pac-Man CE on 360 years ago at my cousin’s house, where they added a timer and a morphing maze to the base original game. I thought it was a neat novel thing at the time but didn’t think further.

 Pac-Man CE DX adds more mazes and more mechanics and more modes to the championship edition base. It added sleeping ghosts where, if Pac-Man moves near them, they wake up and they chase him around the maze in a line until you can finally eat them all and rack up a huge score. You can also elect to use a bomb at a small expense in order to save yourself and send ghosts to the middle of the maze again. These changes assist in maintaining the game’s flow and it never makes a score attack daunting or boring.

 Devouring big long conga lines of ghosts following you is so satisfying while you’re listening to a bumpin’ soundtrack and chilling out looking at the cool lights on the maze. Really and truly, while at its core, PMCEDX is a score attack game, it makes for a beautiful loving chill sensory experience and I couldn’t ask anything more from it.

  Deadly Premonition / レッドシーズプロファイル

I think I, like a lot of people, was introduced to this game via the GB series. I didn’t have an Xbox 360 so I eventually imported the Japanese version for the PS3. The game’s dub was already in English; the text was in Japanese and it was pretty easy and reasonable to get through. Deadly Premonition actually the Guinness World Record winner for most critically polarizing horror video game since the reviews at the time were so all over the place. And yes, I will contend that Deadly Premonition is definitely not for everyone.

 I am not the type of person to play shooters. I actually hate them a lot. I don’t like gushing blood in video games, and I don’t really like the act of murdering someone in a game. I used to play a lot of survival horror games when I was younger on the PS1 and PS2, but a lot of the time you’re dealing with the undead or oddball things going on around you so it’s not nearly as bad I think. It’s funny; I deal with people’s bodily fluids and body parts all the time in real life as part of my job (ie: I’ve had to help dissect someone’s stomach before fresh out of the operating room), and it doesn’t bother me. But the mere act of seeing it done or doing it, makes me feel squeamish. I don’t like it. I don’t even like watching blood being drawn from me or needles being stuck into me, even though I’ve done it to other people as part of my work.

 For the most part, inexplicably, in Deadly Premonition, you’re dealing with the undead anyhow. I’m not the best person at shooters, but I certainly know what’s a good one and what isn’t.  Deadly Premonition is not a very good shooter. It’s really janky. Some of the weapons don’t make sense in terms of how balanced they are. The controls are also really janky. This is not really a surprise considering the game’s strength wasn’t supposed to be its shooter aspects. In fact, those parts weren’t even supposed to be there.

 Deadly Premonition is often cited as an artistic piece or a good game simply because of its story and character writing.  It has an excellent main character who was cast almost perfectly. It has a lot of eccentric characters filling the town of Greenvale to help you solve the murder mystery or help obstruct it. The end result of having an unreliable narrator works out in the game’s favour. It helped sprout pop culture references, weird humour, quirky dialogue and more. I have certainly never watched Twin Peaks but I got the allusions either way since the show was so big. Slowly uncovering how every cast member lives their lives throughout the town and every day makes you more emotionally connected with them.

 Greenvale is more of a sandbox than just a place where a crime is committed. You can play darts. You can race cars. You can do a ton of sidequests somewhere that will reward you elsewhere. You can collect trading cards??? You can carry some lady holding a pot everywhere? You can taste-test for one of your coworkers? You can do a lot of stuff that makes zero sense but I still end up enjoying it all anyway.

 It looks like a PS2 or Dreamcast game or something and I almost found that utterly endearing in the era in which it was released. The soundtrack itself is so dissonant and doesn’t always fit the situation. Sometimes the sound mixing is so all over the place that it often results in making a scene more hilarious than it should be. There’s a song that’s just… American Idiot… on the soundtrack for some reason. Along the way, you start wondering “is this game real? Am I real? Is this really happening right now?” and yes, yes it is.

 In the end, because of its cult success and getting people talking, it allowed Swery 65 to make more games. Deadly Premonition was lightning in a bottle for him. He followed up with D4: Dark Dreams Don’t Die (unfortunately in limbo). He cowrote Lord of Arcana and Lord of Apocalypse. He recently released The Missing. If anything, I’m more interested in what he makes. I’m eagerly looking forward to The Good Life.

  999: Nine Hours, Nine Persons, Nine Doors

Text/Puzzle-adventures, rather than pure visual novels, became a staple of some players’ libraries due in part of the popular Ace Attorney series, Professor Layton series, and whatever Mystery Case File games that were published by Nintendo. 999 is not a pure visual novel. It’s a puzzle adventure game with visual novel elements. With art by Kinu Nishimura and a story written by Kotaro Uchikoshi (who had a few visual novels under his belt), it was difficult for me to ignore this game. I was also at a point where I really wanted to get into a lot of the games that Aksys published so it was a natural choice to buy.

 A lot of the localization and language in this game was edited so that while it stays true to the spirit of the original language, a lot of care was put into making the dialogue and writing sound natural in the English language versus going line by line exactly. It worked out in the game’s favour because the script was fairly large. Based on Uchikoshi’s past games, he likes to ask a question and generally incorporate some pseudoscience in his narratives. 999’s version of pseudoscience ended up being morphogenetic fields (see: Rupert Sheldrake). This theory ended up the basis for a few characters and it is the way the story unravels. He also took inspiration from another older game of Chunsoft’s: Banshee’s Last Cry where the player is put into an unsettling position right off the bat. Indeed, 999 starts the player in media res, but the player is already in trouble when you begin to control the main character.

 The puzzles were added to the game so that it would be received well by a wider audience than just visual novel readers. They were naturally and seamlessly integrated into the experience that the game became almost wholly about the puzzle rooms and whatever flavour dialogue occurred during the puzzle rooms. A lot of inspiration seems to have been taken from browser-based escape games like the Crimson Room from 2004. Escape the Room games were a subgenre of point and click adventure games and it was nice seeing the concept integrated in a narrative experience that wasn’t Myst (see: http://www.fasco-cs.net/ for more information). Due to the puzzles being a fundamental part of the game’s story, with them getting more and more difficult, the final puzzle for the entire game at the end of the true route is both a relief and also incredibly impactful due to using both of the DS screens and also revealing a lot to the player about the narrative.

 If I had criticism for the game, I feel like it would be having to play the game repeatedly, doing the same puzzles repeatedly in order to unlock another prerequisite ending for the true ending. I did not play the later port which rectifies this but I’m not entirely sure that being able to see the branches would be great for the game either. I also feel like, just like a lot of Uchikoshi’s writing and previous games, that when the characters start cracking jokes when they have to urgently do things to not die, the tone feels a little off.

 With that said, 999 is one of the more compelling text/puzzle-adventures from last decade, and it uses its native platform to its advantage. There weren’t a lot of games that used the DS screens to convey a narrative properly but when you are faced with the revelation that the game was using the two screens for a remarkable reason, you feel like the game is a natural and powerful addition to any DS library and gives significance for the dual screens.

  Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance

The funniest thing about Metal Gear Rising was that I actually disliked it at the beginning when I first started playing it. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, and I didn’t ‘get’ the parry mechanic. At first, I guess I was playing it for the sake of playing it? It definitely took me a while to even warm up to it. The camera was obnoxious (and still gets to be obnoxious in some places), and I felt incredibly nauseous while playing it sometimes.

 It wasn’t until I got to the Mistral boss that I finally … found what I was looking for… I’m sorry. I’m serious, though. Metal Gear Rising truly shines during the boss battles. When I finished that particular boss battle, I’d reflected that I was smiling like an idiot the entire way through. I don’t think I’d fought satisfying boss battles in years prior to that. Returning to previous chapters told me that Platinum really likes to frame and teach players via trial by fire. Learn to parry yourself, here’s a test to see if you can parry well and you can get a trophy for it, here’s the final test to see if you can even parry (Monsoon). I loved that Metal Gear Rising threw a lot of what we knew about Metal Gear Solid out of the window, with a significantly interesting score, boss battles that centre around the climax of a battle (expertly done via excellent sound design as I noted in my SotY writeup this year), and a more interesting and personable version of Raiden. It relies far more on offense than defense and stealth, and that’s okay to me. It ends up separating Raiden even more from Snake.

 The final boss is a love-it-or-hate-it sort of affair, and I ended up loving every single part of it. I felt like it was one of the best final bosses in years. Don’t know how to parry? You’re fucked. Don’t know how to use the game’s other offensive rush tactics like Defensive Offense and running? Good luck. The game makes sure you try to know how to do these things before even bothering to attempt the boss, with the major roadblock being Monsoon. And if you can’t parry by then, the game brutally tells you that you aren’t doing it right by making the boss battles ramp up to significantly require you to use one of the game’s core mechanics for elegant combat. This isn’t the most elegantly-designed game whatsoever. In fact, it can be really sloppy. With that said, it’s one of the better action games I played all decade.

  Papers, Please!

Papers, Please is work. It feels like work because it is work. You can grant freedom and admittance to people, or you can just take their freedom away or not permit them to cross the border. Everything you do is controlled by the government, or by rules and regulations. If you do something wrong, you’re written up. Do enough wrong, and your pay is cut. Do enough wrong and your pay is cut multiple times, and you can’t provide enough for your family. Everything about the game just feels like work. Even right down to the end of the day when the whole thing feels like a budget calculation and spreadsheets. Everything about the game’s UI feels a lot like work. Where do you allocate space to do your job? How much money do you allocate to heat/food/medicine? It ends up feeling very tedious, but somehow fulfilling.

 You are an immigration officer in a fictional Soviet state. The interesting part of the game is that it doesn’t only feel like a job, but it also feels like government and self-evaluation. You end up studying why the government keeps regulating the border the way they do, and thinking about how mundane the job can be. You know that people’s livelihood and family lives hinge on whether or not they cross the border, and sometimes your penchant for following the rules and disallowing people across the border may be called into question when people plead with you to go through. Do you accept docked pay so you can reunite people or save people from slavery, or do you do as you’re told and live with the consequences of your actions. In a small way, your ethics are called into question. It’s a nice reminder that a lot of things, despite people being people and having their own stories, generally seem to come down to bureaucracy and pieces of paper as opposed to a full understanding of humanity or extenuating circumstances.

 I’d also like to add that Jorji is one of the best characters of 2013 to me. I think his glass half-full philosophy / if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again philosophy is something to look forward to whenever I encounter him in-game.

 In many ways, Papers, Please feels a lot like the Milgram experiment. Are you going to make cruel judgement calls to separate a family, or keep people in slavery because the authorities and higher-ups essentially tell you to do your job so you can keep your family healthy? Papers, Please in many ways is written incredibly well. It doesn’t use reams of text to make you understand the overall premise of the game but through your actions, you’re also helping to tell the story. That’s the sort of weird and wonky player “agency” that I find interesting.

  World of Final Fantasy

The Final Fantasy series had a better decade than the last decade, I feel, considering the quantity of releases increase from the previous decade.  However, it had a lot of growing pains to deal with at the beginning of the decade. Final Fantasy games sell well all the time, and more people playing games than ever, it makes sense that sales numbers continuously increase. Attach rates aren’t as large.  Final Fantasy XIV came out in 2010 and it was not a good game at all to the point of having to be structured for its 2013 re-release. Final Fantasy XIII had mixed reviews, as well as its subsequent direct sequels.  Final Fantasy All the Bravest wasn’t exactly the best mobile debut for the series. The brand also suffered from dilution – the Final Fantasy name was attached to almost anything and everything for the sake of sales, and numerous spinoffs were released and the quality varied.

 Final Fantasy Versus XIII and Final Fantasy Agito XIII, originally planned to be part of the Fabula Nova Crystallis setting with Final Fantasy XIII were renamed and rebranded/redesigned to be their own titles: Final Fantasy XV and Final Fantasy Type-0. Both games also had mixed reviews and multiple delays. If anything, I can probably say that this decade was the most divisive for Final Fantasy fans.

 World of Final Fantasy came out during the same year Final Fantasy XV. I think I’ve made my feelings about Final Fantasy XV fairly well-known.  Perhaps my feelings about that game influenced how I felt about World of Final Fantasy but as someone who has played this series for decades (for reference: the first game is one year older than I am, and my first Final Fantasy was the first game), I felt like World of Final Fantasy was a love letter written to fans like me. I am a long-standing fan of the series over the course of decades and have been through its up and downs, and while I don’t like every game in the series (we all know how I feel about half of the games in the series, after all), I can still look at them for their influence on the rest of the series.  I also like the newer games equally as the older games and dislike and like games from all of the eras, so I don’t really have issues with how the series is represented in general unless the games are really bad.

 World of Final Fantasy feels like a Kingdom Hearts-esque exploration of the Final Fantasy games while throwing Pokemon into the mix. It involves a lot of older references as well as bringing new references in and throwing it into a presentation mode that fans of all ages can enjoy. The main characters are chibi which fits right into how the older games represented characters, but they can also grow taller to represent how the newer games are represented. You can create stacks of party members according to their height and balance well accordingly out of classic Final Fantasy enemies and characters in order to battle against other classic Final Fantasy characters, villains, and monsters.

 The game is exactly what I wanted a mainline Final Fantasy to look. It retains a cartoony look, embracing stylization while adding so much detail to the areas’ setpieces so that they also stand out while the characters move around on the map. I also felt like the score was also a brilliant blend of old and new: with Masashi Hamauzu composing the score but also remixing older Uematsu themes to fit within the context of the score. The score was loftier compared to Hamauzu’s older works and the strings, synth, and piano works incredibly well to bring the game’s world to life.

 The idea for WoFF was to try to bring younger fans into the fold, hence the Pokemon-like influence for using and rearing many classic FF enemies so that children could start to recognise them. The loftier script was also written in-mind taking into account both lighter storytelling from older FF titles and some darker bits taking into account newer Final Fantasy games. I’m not too sure that SE was very successful with bringing younger fans into the fold, but the way the game was written fit well with what I remember liking about FF for the first few games I had played. I also enjoyed that characters were chosen for their involvement to the plot versus them simply picking the most popular ones. This is why we got characters like Eiko and Shelke as well as regular FF mainstays. All of the characters were woven into the story well, as citizens of Grymoire as opposed to characters who just have their regular identities transported into Grymoire instead.

 I felt like the Pokemon mechanic was handled well. I even loved it enough to have the idea commissioned in combination with our FFXIV characters.  I liked that it changed up whatever skills you had access to, it influenced your stats, and it looked adorable to boot.

 I would absolutely love to see a mainline game made by this team because I felt like the loose style of storytelling and worldbuilding made for a very good Final Fantasy game, and in essence, WoFF was the real Final Fantasy XV to me. It felt more “Final Fantasy” than a lot of the games released in the same decade, or even compared to ones released in the previous decade. It was a nice step and touch to demonstrating that there were staff members who remembered what Final Fantasy is to older fans.

  Va-11 Hall-A

I’m too young to have a big attachment to older PC games like the ones on the MSX or the PC-88/98. But I’ve always had a fondness for their graphics and their music, like sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong time or something. It’s one of the reasons why I gravitated hard to the PC Engine—I felt like it was a way for me to finally experience stuff like that.

 Valhalla is supposed to be a bartending simulator but in reality, mixing drinks is a bit of a break and distraction between the visual novel bits. Usually if you’re stuck in a futuristic landscape akin to Bubblegum Crisis or Blade Runner, you’re asked to investigate a mystery or explore it. But nope, you’re a bartender making drinks and making enough to scrape by and pay your rent. You hear a lot about the world from various clientele while you serve them drinks but you don’t necessarily have to do anything with the information they give you.

 I worked as a medical administrator for a few years and over that time, I got to hear a lot of stories, meet some famous people (like been on TV people or youtubers or people who got paid to do things for celebrities), and just meet a lot of neat and interesting regular people. I got to hear stories about people’s health or their personal lives or witness people falling in or out of love. You don’t necessarily have to do anything with that information (in fact you can’t due to patient confidentiality), but the stories become sealed in your head. I can’t help but to think of some of these people I met for those few years or where they are now. I actually run into some of them at my current lab so I keep getting to see some of their stories. You eventually learn how quickly icebreak in situations like these to make people feel at ease or find a topic of conversation while they’re waiting. I even used my phone to gauge news because a lot of the time when I got home, I was too tired to do anything or getting news in the palm of my hand was incredibly easy to do.

 In this sense, I understood Valhalla. It may look dull and it doesn’t look special but you’re the one who makes it so that it doesn’t have a dull moment in the bar. You’re the one who has to make it enjoyable even if your pay sucks. Because you don’t want to be miserable either. It’s through the conversations with others that you learn about Jill because she has to add commentary too. Everyone has a different way of requesting something and it’s up to you to figure out how to decipher it. It’s a lot of like practice in being in the service industry.  You need to consistently gauge a conversation in order to actually give the client what they want to unlock more conversation.

 The pacing in this game may be a little slow, but it doesn’t feel like a hindrance because the writing is really good. Something always happens to keep you interested or you have to mix drinks to keep yourself on your toes. The humour comes across well, and nothing really falls flat. Part of the reason why I feel like the writing is genuine is because the game’s developers wanted to write something that reflected how they live in Venezuela, akin to laughter in the middle of despair according to the developers. The writing is balanced well with the music and the visuals which makes the whole package a wonderful experience.

 This game also has Rad Shiba so it belongs on the list by default.  

  El Shaddai: Ascension of the Metatron

I had gone to Catholic Schools all my life. I was even in a nursery school operated by nuns when I was a toddler, and they always tried to get me to write with my right hand instead of my left (which left me ambidextrous for some things lol).  Because of my experiences with religion growing up, I absolutely had questions and doubts and concerns with metaphysics, theology, and epistemology. Every Catholic, I think, as they grow up and have to take religion classes, and having to take what the province mandates as metaphysics are somehow inserted into math and biology syllabi without even being mentioned in the coursework at all, questions it. And that’s okay. You should. The best religion and philosophy teacher I ever had growing up always said we should question everything we learn including what he taught us.

 Going through school, though, and reading the Bible and having Bible study, my friends and I always sorta wondered what it’d be like if a game was made about this stuff?  I know it may be a little sacrilegious but there are so many stories in there that would fit a game. Throughout my life, as I became acquainted with others from different branches of Christianity or other western religions, I talked with others who played games who… surprisingly had the same ideas and desires?  It probably won’t ever be done. El Shaddai is inspired by the Book of Enoch and while it is considered as non-canon in most Christian and Jewish sects, I guess it might come close to what some of us wanted.

 El Shaddai was a game that I picked up mostly because I bought almost every niche game back then. I just looked at some of the trailers, thought it looked just okay, and picked it up because I felt like Ignition was going out of business and it would be a novelty item. Ignition did not have the best reputation among the people I talked to back then. I played Lux-Pain whose localization left a lot to be desired. Nostalgia was a middling RPG. Arc Rise Fantasia’s localization left a lot to be desired despite being a good game. Deadly Premonition had an English dub already but the text localization wasn’t that great. I felt like El Shaddai was the most polished game that Ignition released. They got incredibly great voice actors, including Jason Isaacs. They developed a score attack combo ranking system for replayability. They had a fantastic art director and background art. They made two bishounen that screamed for female audiences to pay attention.

 All of it didn’t exactly work out for the time the game came out, and I always contended that the game was released before its time. Unfortunately, all the effort put into El Shaddai didn’t exactly save Ignition. I feel like if El Shaddai were released in the later half of the decade, it would have been accepted. However, I also feel like its marketing was mishandled. It doesn’t feel like a Devil May Cry successor. It shifts between genres continuously. It is very much like Nier in this regard: it is not for everyone and it has its own unique feel that sets it apart from other games.  It is also a score attack action game, not a hard character action game.

 One thing I really enjoyed about El Shaddai was that all of the setpieces aren’t exactly the same. It ranges from a watercolour painting to abstraction to 2D children art to more abstraction to Final Fantasy VII and keep going like that. It references rhythm games, 2D Platformers, racing games, action games, Devil May Cry (with its own brand of Devil Trigger to boot), and other genres to create something that syncs up very well with the rest of the game due to lore reasons: different enemies prefer different things so that’s why each environment looks different or the gameplay styles may be a little different. I’m okay with this because it shakes things up per chapter and the game doesn’t feel stale at all. You’re expected to adjust to new mechanics per area.

 The combat is a lot like Rock-Paper-Scissors, where certain weapons beat other weapons, or some bosses change which weapons they’re weak against (and the game gives you other weapons so you can adjust accordingly during fights). The weapon you wield also modify your platforming abilities (ex: one allows Enoch to dash, one weighs him down, etc), and they also vary in terms of character strength. In order to obtain G-rankings for each stage, the player needs to analyse which weapon would be the most useful for certain enemies and combo while guarding, guard-breaking, and stealing enemies’ weapons.

 I am putting El Shaddai on this list because I really enjoyed it for what it was. It’s a brilliant score attack action game with a fantastic soundtrack and fantastic art design. It made for a pleasant sensory experience and made some religious figures fairly compelling with good character designs. It’s definitely one of the most rewarding and prettiest score attack games I’ve played this decade.

  To the Moon

Everyone goes through life with regrets. I’m in my thirties now and I think I’ve done things I’ve regretted, or I didn’t other to do something and I’ve regretted that. Kan Gao was inspired by his grandfather’s illness when he was writing and making To the Moon, he’s noted that when he gets old and when his time would come, he might end up regretting some decision he’d made throughout his entire life.  Everyone goes through that when faced with introspection. You can have the courage to love, you can feel pain, you can live your life fully, or not live it enough. To the Moon explores this, and while the writing isn’t the best and can be a little messy (this gets improved on in Gao’s later sequels to this game: A Bird Story and Finding Paradise), I understand what To the Moon was trying to accomplish. To the Moon is an exploration of everything that life throws at us, and the results of the decisions made throughout our lives that touches everyone and everything around us until our time passes.

 Eventually you build up so many wishes and have a big bucket list but eventually there will come a time where you won’t remember why half of those things are on those lists.  To the Moon relates the story of Johnny Wyles, an elderly man on his deathbed with one wish: to go to the moon. The problem is that he could not remember why. The general flow of Gao’s games have involved two scientists from Sigmund Corp, specialising in wish fulfillment at the end of someone’s life, creating memories for people in their final moments to generate comfort for the patient. How ever you may feel about the moral implications of generating false memories for someone prior to their end of life, this is merely a set up for traveling through time to understand what the patient had wanted and what they’d accomplished.  

 Johnny’s character revolves around another character with an ASD. I will also note that my brother has autism (compounded with a multisystem syndrome). While the central focus was on Asperger’s Syndrome (Tony Attwood books being mentioned in the game), I’m a little happy that ASDs are being brought up in games and the game truly hit home for me. The writing may not be stellar, but I felt that the theme of the impact of medical disorders was communicated well. Particularly the theme of why communication and connections with others is so difficult for those with ASDs and those who take care of those who have ASDs. It’s easy to sympathize with the characters trying to express what they mean to each other.

 The game itself is relatively short. Regardless of its length, players must confront some uncomfortable situations and emotions that people struggle with daily or even at different points in our lives. I’m older now and I appreciate this game a little more since I’ve come to experience more of what the game had been trying to tell me a decade ago. The writing may not be the best, and it can be a little messy at times with respect to how it’s presented and written, but a lot of its messages come across as utterly genuine. Slowly unraveling the reasoning behind Johnny’s desire to go to the moon is beautiful. This game is quite human and I appreciate all three games that are a part of this subseries that came out this decade.  I am looking forward to more.

  Nier Gestalt

If you’ve played a Drakengard game or the first Nier game at all, you kind of know what you’re getting into.  Not the best graphics of the decade, plays pretty janky, having bosses that can be difficult to manage, etc.  So going into Nier Gestalt in 2010, I knew what I was getting into. Not a lot of people bothered playing this game since I don’t think it got as much promotion considering it came out during the same year a mainline Final Fantasy game got localized.  Nier also got a little scrutiny since the west got a different protagonist from the Japanese version.  I will say that this worked out in its favour, since the protagonist being one of the central character’s father versus her brother makes for a better, more interesting story than having yet another shounen protagonist.

 I will support the case that, like the Drakengard games before it, Nier Gestalt was difficult to get into. The gameplay is jank.  Easy is too easy.  Normal doesn’t drop enough stuff to warrant playing on the mode. Hard can be a little hard but eventually it evens out. I generally used spears for the charge portion of the combo but in the end it doesn’t necessarily matter what weapon type you use. It doesn’t even matter if you use magic or not unless the game prompts you to do so. It’s either broken or not and the game doesn’t have a set balance for anything. Combos are boring and you’re essentially mashing a button. Even playing through the Nightmare DLC for extra drops, it continues being like this. I was used to playing shmups so it wasn’t necessarily revolutionary that AoE attacks looked as though they were spat out from a shmup either.

 I wasn’t quite understanding why game started acquiring a cult following, because what I’d played of it was pretty boring and standard. “It’s just a regular ARPG starring an older character versus a young protagonist,” I said to myself. I guess that was the reason.  I didn’t quite understand why, even past acquiring Kaine, because I guess I accepted that there weren’t a lot of NPCs and certain towns were the way they were due to, what I surmised were, RPG conventions. It wasn’t until I finished the questline for the brothers, where their mother tried to run away with a man and abandon her children, that I finally started to understand.

 Within every substory, there was something that resonated with someone.  I couldn’t fathom why someone would want to abandon their responsibilities, and at the same time I understood. Sometimes you just want to take care of yourself. With the way the older brother sort of understood why even through his anger and disappointment, it resonated with me. I finally ‘got’ the story, so I wanted to play more. This became one of those rare games where I played only for the story and lore and abandoned any hopes of the gameplay getting better.  I fished, I upgraded weapons, I did enough sidequests for the trophies. I almost platinumed this game, but since the drop rates are so terrible for this game, I didn’t.

 I started enjoying the game for what it was. It was genuinely a fun romp where it feels like everyone taking part in the game’s design contributed something unique and something they were fond of.  If you read any interview from Emi Evans from this time period, you’d realise language is something she’s particularly fond of, so much of the composition and lyrical content of every song was a phoneme from any language that would make it sound like an evolved or a sort of Esperanto version of a current language. This came into play with the game’s lore, and many of the interviews were interesting to read from back then.

 Many of the game’s stages borrowed from different genres of video games. There were the obvious shmup references, the rail shooter reference, the visual novel reference, the Resident Evil/fixed angle horror game reference, the Shadow of the Colossus references, the 2D platformer references, the Zelda references, the top-down puzzle game references, etc. For what the game lacked with respect to its combat, the game excelled at reliving genres and putting maps together in such a way that it felt like an ode to other games and genres that inspired it. The City of Façade’s language being a loose phoneme reconstruction of Japanese felt right at home with the dungeon’s Zelda references complete with Zelda fanfare for me. The Forest of Myth being one long visual novel was so hilarious and unique at the same time.  

 Playing more of the game and opening up the lore with every playthrough was neat. I don’t particularly like when games waste my time, but Nier made each new playthrough worth it. Killing bosses quickly for a trophy, redoing dungeons to see the enemies’ perspectives, and unlocking more of the story and learning more about the world that came from a Drakengard ending felt satisfying. As someone who was studying linguistics at the time, constructing nonsense words from drops out of different morphemes to act as accessories or armour was really amazing for me.

 Much of Nier felt organically put together, from characters’ writing and what they wanted from each other, to the dungeon design, to maybe even the combat design… it felt like a truly special game made from the heart with as much lore as it could possibly include. I had purchased the Nightmare DLC primarily to get weapon drops and while it isn’t nearly as interesting as the rest of the game, it has some implications for the lore. The music and resulting soundscape lends so much to the worldbuilding and includes many peoples’ languages from the area with French, Japanese, English, German, etc phonemes thrown around to sound utterly organic and special.

 At the end of this, I have come to realise that despite saying to myself that I never played this game for the game… I’ve been lying to myself this entire time. I actually did play the game for its game parts. Those are the bits I remember the most about it, and they’re the reasons why I genuinely loved the game. It’s unforgettable for me and it’s why it’s one of my favourites in general.

  Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward

I did not care about MMOs in my late 20s because I was far more focused on finishing school and actually working hard in my field. I think by the end of university, I barely played games because I literally didn’t have time for them. I probably stressed myself out a lot. I threw myself into a semester where I had what felt like 500 evaluations, had to study a lot, had to write papers, and I ended up breaking up with my ex-boyfriend amicably. I was on my own a lot and to be honest, I think I felt okay that way. I think maybe others thought I was unapproachable.

 My best friend now turned fiancé had been begging me to start playing Final Fantasy XIV for a really long time, since he was in the beta prior to its 2.0 release. I made excuses and said I won’t play until a speedster class was implemented since nothing really stuck out at me. In reality, I was mostly busy. Well, Ninja got implemented late 2014, so I ran out of excuses. I got a copy of ARR but to be honest, I didn’t have time for it and I didn’t play it much so I didn’t bother to try harder since my focus was elsewhere.

 Luckily, I got into a semester where I didn’t have that much coursework to think about so I ended up playing XIV more. I caught up during ARR and really my intention was to only play through ARR and finish the story and quit. But my fiancé’s friends were so nice and welcoming to me. When the servers shut down for Heavensward maintainance and I’d finished the ARR storyline literally that night, I made the conscious decision to buy Heavensward. By that time, I was falling a little too hard for my best friend and I really liked my newfound friends. I wasn’t ready to leave Eorzea yet.

 Of course, I had some quests to finish up during Early Access so I didn’t get the opportunity to play with anyone I knew during the main storyline for Heavensward. Heavensward was leaps and bounds above anything I experienced in ARR. The story was well-written, the English voices were recast and given better direction, character deaths were meaningful, a smaller cast made for good character building, the environments were large and you could only assume things happened in each area eventually (they didn’t in the long run), each area was different, it reminded me of Canada… Heavensward made me feel at home.

 Almost every job felt built on, since nothing was really truly culled. A lot of what you got felt like an extension of what you already did. The three new jobs didn’t start out too well or too balanced. Machinist was a mess. Astrologian felt weird. Dark Knight had some growing pains but probably performed the best out of the three once the Alexander raid was implemented given that its specialty at the time centered on magic defense. I was one of the five people who really liked bowmage since it required you to think before you cast but you still did a lot of damage if you thought before firing. I swapped to an omnihealer main officially halfway through the patches because my fiancé requested it.

 Heavensward had a lot of growing pains. For all the team did for the base game, they took a six-month vacation to recharge. 3.1 wasn’t really worth the wait and a lot of people quit the game or stopped playing because nothing really meaningful was added to the game other than a faceroll raid, poorly-tuned exploration missions, and two dungeons. Gordias earlier in the expansion nearly killed the raiding community as a whole.  3.2 didn’t fare too much better, though it did add the best raid tier that has yet to be topped. 3.3 was when FFXIV solidified itself as an MMO with a grand story to tell, with one of the best conclusions a Final Fantasy game had seen in almost a decade. The sound design was near-perfect for this patch, and it was when a lot of us genuinely felt comfortable with the game and its future. Heavensward wasn’t perfect; it still had its missteps and balancing issues, but it was the most comfortable and profoundly skilled I’d ever felt with the game.

 Final Fantasy XIV may not be what it used to be.  I feel old and I feel like I’ve played the game for a really long time.  Now while it’s riding the wave of success, currently having the best story Final Fantasy has seen in a very long time, I can’t help but to remember Heavensward when we finally felt assured about the game and it felt like a cohesive gift to players who were active at that time.  I got to know so many people during Heavensward, and now I’m engaged to my best friend partially due to our experiences together playing at that time.

  Undertale

The late half of 2015 was a really bad year for me. The first half was really great. I started playing FFXIV often, I finished the hardest year I’ve ever had of my 9 years of university so far with high grades and was going full-on hard into my residency year, I fell in love with my best friend.  I was pretty happy since I finally felt very successful.

 If anyone can recall (or this may be new to the person who is reading this), towards the end of 2015 my dad was falsely accused by our neighbour of possession of a weapon (it was a gardening tool), and he had a restraining order put against him so he couldn’t live with us anymore.  My little brother is severely disabled so that’s why I still lived at home so I could help out.  Without my dad around, it was so much harder.  I came home from my days at the hospital every day after a 12-hour day, had to babysit my brother since my mom still cooked food to carry for my dad who had to live at my aunt’s, somehow had to find time to study for my licensing exam and do some work for school and my thesis, had to find time to socialise a tiny bit otherwise I’d go crazy, maybe had to take my brother to his appointments by coming home a little early, and then had to find whatever time I had left to sleep.  I stopped posting on message boards because I literally had no time to do so and I wouldn’t have anything of value to contribute to discussions either.  

 I detached myself from a lot of people. It was actually kind of lonely. It was really hard. I lashed out at people when I shouldn’t have. I don’t look back on those days other than the bright spots with fondness at all.

 Before that, everyone was telling me to play Undertale but I sort of didn’t want to? I felt like the fanbase was sort of making the game unapproachable around the time it came out. By the end of the year, I was so out of the loop about games that I didn’t give a hoot.  A friend of mine, Shadow Hog, bought the game for me on Steam. I still have the e-mail message for it.

 My now-fiancé got his own copy so we could play it together because at that point I didn’t want to do much of anything alone. I was actually sinking deeper into depression and verging on a mental breakdown. I was not mentally sound and every single week it felt like someone had to save me from doing something stupid.

 I started Undertale and I didn’t really think much of it at the start.  I can’t remember when it started clicking with me but maybe it was around the time I got into a battle with Tsunderplane and Vulkin and got to Hotland that I gave up and started having fun with it because it was just… silly. It was time to let down your hair and have some fun for once and not feel completely guilty about it.

 The idea of having to win and achieving a certain ending by sparing your enemy isn’t necessarily new – SMT’s demon negotiation, Silent Hill 2’s morality system, and MGS3’s fight with the Sorrow have some sort of sparing mechanic. The hybrid of a turn-based battle system with enemy negotiation, as well as dodge system inspired by a shmup makes every encounter both strategic (ie: having to avoid bullets while also sparing enemies in a set order per battle) and consistently active.  Unless you are going for a certain other ending, you cannot just sit there and hold down the attack button and expect to win.  That said, this makes a lot of encounters a little longer than a standard RPG battle, but the flavour text for each uniquely-designed enemy makes many of the battle worth it. Undertale isn’t a hard game unless you’re playing on a certain route. But I don’t necessarily think the gameplay part of Undertale speaks properly for it. The dungeon maps are relatively simple. They all have their little gimmicks. The battle system is relatively easy to understand.

 The reason why Undertale has such a prolific fanbase is primarily because of its character writing and ability to make and use memes properly enough that they catch on. Many of the characters are easily encountered early, are easy to draw (propels a lot of fanart), and understand due to the character writing. What also helps is that the game is 4-6 hours long, and it came out at the right time with the right kind of word of mouth.  Undertale could have easily fallen into the sea like so many other RPGs before it but it didn’t.  My fiancé and I were shopping for work clothes one day at a store that sells business clothing, construction clothing, and scrubs. He was wearing a shirt with the Delta Rune on it since he loves game shirts that are relatively subtle. Even then, one of the sales clerks pointed it out and was pretty excited to see it.  It was pretty crazy to both of us how popular Undertale had gotten.  I don’t think the popularity was unwarranted. I think it’s a fantastic game, helped by a considerably lengthy varied and catchy soundtrack. Granted, I was not as exposed to how explosive its popularity was when it came out. But I understood why so many people liked it. It wasn’t for its gameplay.

 As I progressed through Undertale, instead of thinking of the lore (which was well-written), I was thinking of how the monsters treated your character with respect and love because you treated them that way.  They didn’t go out of their way to fear you, and welcomed you as one of their own.  In the end, they were hesitant to even kill you, and you were hesitant to kill them.  Even then you still had the spare/save commands.

 At the very end, you only had the Save command.

 And that’s how I felt. When Hopes and Dreams started playing, I couldn’t help but to cry. When I was repeatedly nudged to press the Save command, I didn’t actually feel like the game nudged me to do so. That was something I wanted to do. Just remembering how depressed I was when I started playing this game and then progressing to its true end with Hopes and Dreams and SAVE the World playing, I couldn’t help but to feel like my hopes and dreams were still alive.

 Even if I was going through a really hard time in my life, hope was still there as long as I had people around me that supported me all the way through. That was the time in my life that I realised who my real friends were. And in the end, I felt like Undertale told me my friends saved me and that my dreams weren’t crushed, now matter what threw at me.

 And that’s why it’s my game of the decade. It may not be the most perfect game that came out this decade or the objectively best-crafted, but it did so much for me. When I was prompted for my game of the decade, Undertale was the first thing that popped into my head. I didn’t question it. I just knew. I don’t think we’ll get another Undertale again in my lifetime, but I’m glad to say that I gave it a shot and I love it for what it is.

#games of the decade #gotd

[toutallyahoe]

I Am Damaged ~ Midoriya Izuku (BNHA)

Requested By: --

A/N: im dick nice guy so here's a one shot of the sweet boi :)

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Izuku sighed as he trudged each step he took along the stairs to go to school's rooftop to meet up with his only friend in Aldera Junior High. '[Name]-san was really mysterious when he asked me to meet him at the rooftop after classes.' The green haired thought as he remembered the other male did not attend classes for the past few days too.

After awhile of walking up the stairs, the green haired saw the familiar metal door that was leading to the rooftop. Izuku quickened his pace a bit, but not that much to cause him to slip.

Well, he almost slipped but he manage to grab the stairs' railing to balance himself. A relieved sigh left his lips as he shuddered the thought of falling down the stairs if he did not managed to catch himself.

'I-I need to be careful...' The green haired male thought as he sweated a bit. His hands was already back to gripping the yellow colored strap of his bag. Getting to the door, Izuku opened it and quickly went outside the school to be at the rooftop. He scanned the area to find the [Hair color] haired male.

His lips formed a large smile to see his friend there in his casual attire. He was about to shout the [Hair color] haired male's name until he found himself he can't. A large lump on his throat blocking the [Hair color] haired male's name from coming out.

Izuku would have been happy to see the other male until his green colored eyes saw where the [Hair color] haired male was. Izuku's eyes stared at the scene in front of him in horror. His iris' shrunk as he looked at the back of the male. [Name] was only gripping the steel bar of the school's railing with both of his hands, body tilting forward that only one slip can make the [Hair color] haired male drop to his impending death.

Izuku's lips quivered as he was frozen. His feet stuck to the floor as he shook in fear. His yellow colored bag was already on the ground, forgotten, as he just stared at the back of the [Hair color] haired male. [Name] seemed to noticed his presence as he tilted his head to the side, giving Izuku a sided glance as he then look back at the scene bellow him again. Not minding his friend shaking in fear for his well being.

"[Na]... [N-Name]-san...?" Izuku managed to stuttered out as he look at the said male. [Name] only look below him, not even responding when Izuku called him out again. Eyes threatening to let the tears fall down as Izuku trembly clutched the material of the front of his black colored uniform. "P-please..."

"Izuku-kun," The said male just looked at his friend. His body still trembling as he did not know why the male would be in a dangerous situation. The green haired male was about to tell [Name] not to do what he think he is doing when [Name] finally said something again. But the male's words did not relieved the green haired boy's scared behavior.

"I am damaged. Far to damaged," The [Hair color] haired muttered but Izuku still managed to hear it. He tried to think this was just a nightmare. His body continue to tremble but he finally found himself moving again. Each step he took, desperate to get closer to his friend until [Name] looked at him again, a narrowed look on his face as he side glace Izuku that made him paused in getting near him. "but you're not beyond repair..."

[Name] shifted his body a bit, carefully putting his foot on the small excess concrete located on the side of the building as he finally faced Izuku's direction. A small smile formed on his face as his gazed soften. "Stick around here," He pause for a bit, until he locked at Izuku's green colored eyes with his [Eye color] colored ones. "make things better..."

"'Cause you've beat me fair and square..." Izuku did not understand what the male was saying but his green eyes widen at that line. "[N-Na--]" The green haired male could not bring himself to call out his friend's name. He saw the familiar blue colored aura surrounding the male's body, indicating he was using his quirk.

"W-what's your quirk, [Last name]-san?" Izuku curiously asked out of a blue. Remembering his manners, the green haired boy stuttered out, "I-if you don't m-me asking, that is!" This cause the other male to chuckle at the green haired teen. "Ah, don't worry about it Midoriya-san!" The [Hair color] haired male said as he picked up the ramen noodles and place it on his mouth. Currently the two were in a small ramen shop to get to know each other.

Finishing chewing his food and swallowing it. [Name] looked at green haired male beside him and grinned. "My quirk is not that special, really. I can produce this blue colored aura out of my body in a fifteen meter radius..." [Name] said as he then remembered. "Oh! It's also super hot." He said as he let out an amused laugh when he saw Izuku took out his notebook and wrote down what he had just said in a blank page.

Hearing the other male's laugh, Izuku could help but heat up as he quickly look at the other male. A smile on his lips as he shyly hid himself on his notebook. "S-sorry. It's m-my hobby to write e-every quirk I see..." Izuku shyly said as he peeked and saw the [Hair color] haired male smiled at him, causing him to hide his face again.

"Hey, I don't mind." [Name] shrugged as he patted the shy teen's back. He gave a thumbs up with his other hand to encourage the male. "If you like, I could tell you more about my "interesting" quirk." The [Hair color] haired suggested as he air quoted the word "interesting", making Izuku brighten up and giggled.

[Name] looked away from his friend's trembling form as he shifted his gaze to the floor, increasing his quirk's power a bit. "Please stand back now..." The [Hair color] haired male said as he heard the patter of Izuku's footsteps. "A little further..." The male muttered. Izuku could only shake, his eyes fixacated on his friend. He flinched a bit when his friend's quirk neared him a bit. "Don't know what this thing will do..."

"[N-Name]-kun..." The green haired muttered to himself as the said male raised his head to look at his. Izuku couldn't help but tear up when he saw the broken expression on his friend's face. "Hope you'll miss me..." Izuku's throat felt dry as he tried to step closer to the male but reeled back because of the heat the blue aura [Name]'s quirk produce.

"Izuku-kun, good morning." Izuku couldn't help but heat up when he heard his first name left the [Hair color] haired male's lips. His body trembling a bit as he slowly faced the other male who greeted him with a smile. "I... I-Izuku?!?" The green haired male questioned as he look at the male, beet red.

"Huh?" The [Hair color] haired male tilted his head a bit to the side as he gave a questioning glance on the shy boy. He pondered a bit on what could cause the green head such a reaction other than his shyness until he finally processed what he called him.

"A-ah! S-sorry, I t-though since we were friends we could call e-each others first names!" The [Hair color] haired male stuttered out as he waved his hands in front of himself. A small pink blush on his cheeks could be seen.

"Wish you'd kiss me..."

"I just don't get this one Izuku-kun!" [Name] frustratedly shouted as he glared at text book on his hand. The other boy let out a small giggle as he tried to explain the problem to his friend. "It's not that hard [Name]-san. You just gotta write the number here since they had the same form then subtract their signs as they showed division." Izuku explained as he look at his friend who groaned.

"No, it's to hard! Who even invented math anyways?!?" Shaking his head, Izuku quickly peck [Name]' cheek. It was no doubt his face was red and looking at the [Hair color] haired male beside him, a pink taint on [Name]'s cheek. Shyly, Izuku smiled at that.

"If you get this problem right, you'll get a kiss again [Name]-san..."

"Then you'd know I worship you..."

"Man, Izuku-kun, I kinda envy you." The [Hair color] haired male nonchalantly said out of a blue as he looked at the blue colored sky with his [Eye color] orbs with utter boredom. His arms crossed on his back head as he lay on the grassy ground.

Hearing what the [Hair color] haired male beside him said, Izuku let out sputters of incoherent words left his mouth as he quickly sat up from his laying position and stared at the male with shock and disbelief.

Briefly looking his friend's shocked form, the male continued on what he was saying. "I mean, you never gave up despite everyone doubting you, ya know?" The male said as his lips formed into a small smile. "Even when everyone is trying to bring you down, you never gave in and continue to press forward..."

[Name] shifted his body a bit to look at the green haired teen. A small grin on his face as he chuckled at the beet red teen. What left his mouth again made Izuku stuttering a lot as he just laughed and patted his friend's back.

"I kinda worship your determination, Izuku-kun!"

"I'll trade my life for yours." Green eyes widen as Izuku tried to go urge himself to run faster. His heart beat was beating quite fast as the adrenaline kicked in his system. His right arm trying to reach his [Hair color] haired friend.

"[Name]-san?" Izuku softly said as he stared at his friend. The [Hair color] haired male looked so utter broken and the bruises on his face made the other flinch at looking at them. Some parts of [Name]'s black uniform had been burnt as a few first and second degree burns on his [Skin color] skin can be seen. "[Name]-san... A-are you okay...?"

"Izuku-kun," The said boy let out a shaky sigh as he tried to get closer from his friend but paused when [Name] sent him a small smile. It wasn't the same smile he had seen in the past. This time, this smile didn't reach his eyes and Izuku didn't like it one bit. Not at all.

"sometimes you're very lucky to not have a quirk at all..." The tone of the male made Izuku flinch. It sound so broken and lifeless. Not at all like the [Name] he used to know. "[N-name]-san..." Izuku muttered as he look at the ground. "Y-you don't mean that..." [Name] let out a dry chuckle escape his lips as he look at his hands. A blue taint glowed as he stared at it with hatred and despair. "Yes, I do... Izuku-kun..."

Silence developed the two as [Name] raised his head and looked at the sky. It was already in a taint off pink and orange glow. The [Hair color] haired student stood up from his sitting position and dusted himself off, minding not to touch his injuries. As he finished, he began walking away.

Passing by his friend, he bid his good bye to the green haired boy. As he finally arrived at the metal door of the rooftop, he paused for a bit and said to Izuku which made the said boy immediately turn around and shouted his [Name].

"Sometimes, I wish I could trade my life for yours..."

"Oh my G-god!"

"And once I disappear..."

"Wait, hold on!" Izuku begged as he came into a full sprint. Each step he took made his legs hurt but he did not care for that. Even when the blue aura was slowly penetrating his clothes and burning it a bit.

Despite the pain he is feeling because of the male's quirk. He ran faster to the male who gripping the railing with just one hand now. "Clean up the mess down there..." [Name] looked at him when he uttered those words. His [Eye color] eyes that once shone with light was filled with sadness and despair. An apologizing smile on his face as look at Izuku.

"Not this way!" Izuku screamed as he was tried to change his friend's mind. Tears cascading down his face as his eyes pleaded for the [Hair color] haired male to not do it. Izuku's body forcefully stopped himself running as he panted, his gaze still not leaving [Name]'s form as the blue colored aura slowly disappeared. Leaving faint traces of it in their surroundings.

"[N-name]-san..." Izuku muttered as he looked at the male in the eyes. "O-our love i-is... God..." Izuku muttered as he gave a quivering smile to his friend. Silently telling that it's alright. "Our l-love is God... [Nick name]-kun..." The said male only gave him a close eyed smile until he look back at the ground. It was quiet for awhile and Izuku thought it was alright. That his friend won't do it.

"O-our love is G-god... Right?"

"Izuku-kun..."

But what he heard next made him scream in horror. He tried to reach the male as fast as he could as he sprinted to him.

This was just a dre-- no, a nightmare.

A horrendous nightmare...

It was not real...

Izuku screamed as he tried to reach out on the smiling male with all his might. His green ords widen in horror as he saw the male let go of the rails.

"I'll say hi to God..."

"Live well..."

"[NAME]!!!"

CRUNCH

#boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #my hero academy #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku #midoriya #izuku x male reader #male reader #angst #i am damaged #heathers #dom male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #izuku midoriya x male reader #bnha x male reader #boku no hero academia x male reader #midoriya x male reader

[nowitsdarkfic]

a quiet place // a joey one shot

Now, here’s a one shot for you guys. I’m also putting this on AO3 because he needs more love there 💜

Totally fiction but loosely inspired by things that actually happened to me with an old classmate of mine... as well as the Seinfeld episode “The Tape.”

February, 1985.

“Every piece of art you see here is from me.”

It was such a stepping stone for me to have my own art show here in New York City. Me, the little art student who stood on the outside looking in with her peers and the vagabond, now twenty-four and talking to people from the New York Times about her craft: I never would have guessed I made it this far in my career.

It was only two years ago when I had woken up feeling like my life was over. That old job drained me dry even if it brought home the bacon to myself and my parents. Art was in my soul, and it ached to flood right out of me, ever since I was a toddler.

My parents and I relocated out here to the East Coast from the southeastern side of Los Angeles because my mom’s job was transferred to the city of Rochester. They decided on Oswego to live at given the commute was a quick seventy-five minutes, and thus I called the region home. But there have been many times where I was asked why no accent and my response of “California baby, New York kid” never flew too well with everyone. It was particularly isolating at school when I watched the kids on the playground and I was relegated to the swing set or bunking myself up in the library with a book to read or a picture to draw.

It wasn’t until I met Joe in the beginning of the second grade when I began to feel more at ease with my peers.

I still remember sitting down at the table in the library, right across from him. He wore a bright red hockey jersey under a big black windbreaker and he didn’t look very comfortable there: he had this stern, serious expression plastered on his face, too serious for a little boy so I knew right away he was bit of an outcast himself. I asked him if I could sit with him and he raised these big brown eyes up at me from the book he was reading, and nodded.

I remember examining the nappy black hair all around his head and how it dangled down onto his shoulders, almost like a stuffed animal. His skin was light brown and smooth, and with his brown eyes, I realized I was sitting with a little Indian boy. He kind of resembled me because I had the same complexion and type of hair: I thought our eyes looked similar. At one point, he squirmed in his seat and whispered, “could you not stare at me, please?”

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry,” I whispered back to him, shaking my head and directing my attention to the drawing in the sketchbook resting on my lap. Every so often, I took a glimpse up at him to see if he was still there. He never left until the bell rang and we all returned to class for the rest of the day.

I often saw him walking the halls of the school with his dark hair covering part of his face and his little body wrapped up in heavy sweaters and baggy clothes. He never talked to anyone, even when we shared music class together at one point during the year. I was in the choir section while he tucked himself behind the tiny drum kit in the corner.

It was the middle of November when I caught him on the walk home after school. Both my parents worked so I had to walk with the other latchkey kids, but I never saw him with the group. The afternoon felt cold and crisp with incoming lake effect snow and our leader told us to hustle: I watched him catch up with us for a moment before he hung back on the curb near a vast grassy area lined with tall spruce trees. I watched him stand there for a moment before he crossed the street. I was curious about him and I wanted him to join us.

Once all eyes were off of us and fixed on the street ahead of them I followed him across the street to the park. I reached the sidewalk on the other side once the latchkey group had turned the corner. I returned to him right as he began to walk faster. I trotted after him; once I came closer to him, he peered over his shoulder at me before breaking into a run. Up ahead stood a tall chain link fence around a low bright blue wall surrounded by thick evergreen bushes. To our right was more grass, a side street, and then, beyond another tree line loomed a sliver of Lake Ontario.

I picked up the pace to catch up with him.

“Leave me alone—“ he pleaded to me.

“But why?” I blurted out.

“Leave me alone, please!” He ran away towards the bushes near the hockey rink, but I followed him. He was a fast runner, his legs pumping so much harder than mine. But I lurked back a bit to watch him duck behind the biggest one near the door of the rink. Panting, I spotted his nappy hair from behind the top side of the pine needles. I rounded the edge of the bush closest to me to find he had taken a seat against the bare branches; right before him, and right next to me stood the bright blue wall of the rink.

He bowed his head into his arms, which he folded over his knees, like he was trying to hide from me.

“Hey—are you okay?” I choked out, slipping in between the bush and the wall.

“Don’t look at me,” he begged from his folded arms. I took a knee next to him.

“Hey—Hey, it’s okay,” I assured him, kneeling closer to him.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped back. I pushed a branch out of the way to come closer to him.

“What happened?” I asked, setting a hand on the base of the branch behind me.

“Nothing.”

“I think something happened,” I pointed out. He sniffled, and then he lifted his head to look at me with those big brown eyes.

“Do you promise not to tell?”

“Pinky promise.” I stuck out my right pinky finger for him. He swallowed before hooking his right pinky around it.

“Okay,” he finally said, letting go of my finger, “I’m ugly.”

I was stunned.

“You’re ugly? Who said that?”

“Everyone. When you’re half Injun, people will look at you and you wonder why and ask yourself if you can do anything.”

“Half what?”

“Injun,” he repeated, sniffling again. He paused for a second. “That’s a word my grandma taught me when I was little. She said that’s a word white people like to use to put Indians down.”

“Why are you using it then?” I asked, shifting my weight to better feel comfortable against the branches.

“She said if we use it, it loses its venom.”

“You think I could use it?” I suggested.

“Are you Indian?”

“Yeah. My grandpa is Blackfoot.”

“My mom, and my grandma and grandpa are all Iroquois. I don’t know about your tribe but you know, I do—I do feel better talking about it, though. I don’t feel so all alone.” He cleared his throat and hunched his shoulders to keep the warmth in his little body.

“I’m also Italian from my dad’s side,” he added, shivering.

“I’m German, Norwegian, and African,” I told him. “So don’t worry about feeling ugly. I’m a mess.”

I nestled even closer to him, so close in fact I put my arm around him. I could feel the wind picking up from behind the bushes and over the top of my head.

“I’m Hannah,” I told him. “What’s your name?”

“Joe. But everyone calls me Joey.”

He glanced around the nook in the bushes, the tops of which protected us from the outside world. It was quiet here with just the two of us.

“Let’s make this our safe spot,” he told me. “We can come here when we both feel alone.”

“It’s a quiet place here,” I added.

We often came back to that little spot, all throughout the second grade and the rest of elementary school. He told me he missed me after a good snow because we couldn’t meet up there, but always did during the spring and summer. The two of us walked home after school together and then strode across the grass, and hung out there for a while until we had to get our butts back home because of homework. We talked about our day, like something that happened at recess or at lunch or during class. He always made me laugh with his little off-the-cuff quips and his spicy sense of humor; I often made him laugh when I learned sarcasm and my humor grew sharper. Nothing fancy, just two kids hanging out together.

We returned to it as we grew older and Joey found interest in hockey and then music. Every single time we took the exact same seating with our backs to the grass and our feet pointed to the outside wall. I always put my arm around him whenever he felt too cold; sometimes he did the same with me, too. At school, I almost never saw him because our classes were down the hall from each other, and so seeing him was the best part of the school day.

Meanwhile, I watched his hair grow longer and thicker and darker to where it was solid black. We listened to our voices change, his squeaky little boy voice breaking and falling lower, and mine growing more womanly.

We even watched our hips grow fuller—it was more so the case with me, but his developed a gentle curve, all while he grew lankier: he gained all of his weight in the form of slender but strong muscles. The first time I knew he was going to be a tall man was in the middle of sixth grade, and one of the last times I saw him. When he stretched out his legs towards the wall, his jeans legs receded back up enough to reveal the very tops of his black Chuck Taylors.

The last time we saw each other was the last day of the summer before seventh grade, and I had received a letter in the mail telling me I had been accepted into a brand new art school over in Rochester, which meant my parents and I would have to move over there.

“It’s the seventh through the ninth grades only, though,” I assured him. “So I could come back by the time regular high school starts up.”

“But that’s three years without you, though,” he remarked. “Who am I going to hang out with until then?” I could never answer that question.

And before we returned home, and we stood to our feet, and strode over to the curb and stopped before crossing. I put my arms around him to feel him one last time: even though he had grown slim and toned with time, he had this nice soft feeling to him. He held me in his slender arms against his deepening chest and I never wanted to let go of him, not just from the fact I was saying goodbye to my best friend but from the fact I always wanted to stay with his softness and his gentleness.

He never saw me grow heavier with everything ballooning: indeed, by the time I started ninth grade and my technical freshman year of high school, I was five foot seven and a hundred sixty pounds. Another fifteen on me and I’d be considered fat. My parents worked long days so I often spent my time alone. 

The blessing, however, was art: I managed to make art so well that I was at the top of my class by the end of the ninth grade. The other blessing was having found a tape recorder to record my thoughts. Since I was alone, I could speak my thoughts aloud and I felt better doing it like that instead of putting them in writing.

But I wasn’t returning to Oswego upon graduation. I kept going in the arts all through my high school years, and yet not one time did I hear a word from Joey. I hoped he could find me as I started losing weight and looking forward to being a part of something greater than myself. It didn’t help matters I was surrounded by fears of an economic downturn, even though by my eighteenth birthday in the middle of April I landed a factory job: it couldn’t come at a better time as my dad was laid off from his job and my mom worried about being the sole breadwinner. I stayed there for a year and a half until the place closed down. I was forced into a job at Xerox, which I liked at first because I was bringing home money to help my parents as much as myself.

But over time I hated it there. The hours were ridiculous so I couldn’t see my parents that often, or make art so much. There came a point before my twentieth birthday I had gone so far to writing a suicide note and a plan on how to kill myself, including finding a way back to Joey so I could tell him goodbye for the last time. I would then drive into Oswego and scout out a drug dealer and overdose on heroin right there at home.

But it was the thought of him, that belief that he and I would reunite in the future, that saved me from my own demise. I finally said enough with the job, but I had faith in my art.

It took me a full year before I made my first commission and it was modest. I worried about my parents and I being evicted and thus I poured my all, all of my yearning to return to the quiet place and to Joey, into every single piece. We were given two days to leave our condo when I had one of my drawings posted in a gallery in the heart of the city and I was invited to share more with them.

The commissions I made saved my parents’ condo and even though I was a ways off, I began scouting out for a place of my own. I started gaining weight again but I knew it was for the best.

Over the next two years I had more and more art shows with galleries in Rochester and then that past autumn in 1983, I received a letter from that gallery that saved us, telling me they wanted to sponsor me in my own show in New York City. My own art show! In the city!

I had my parents put in first class with me as we rode the rails from Rochester to the outskirts of the Big Apple in Yonkers, right near the Hudson River. This place was exactly how I would imagine an art gallery in New York would look like with its shiny wooden floors so clean I could eat off of them and all of my art treated like they were worth millions.

I was so eager about the whole thing that I made an auditory diary in the back room right before showtime. That little recording became my sole moment alone for hours on end as I answered interview questions, made even more commissions, and even sold a few drawings. I was on top of the world for once, caught up in a state of euphoria.

By eleven thirty at night, the owner announced five minutes before closing time, but I still had a couple of stragglers from the New York Times in conversation with me for at least another ten minutes. Once they node me good night, I breathed a sigh of both relief and elation.

Day one was done: time to grab my things and head back to my hotel room next door to my parents’ room. I scooped up my purse and my tape recorder before heading out to my rental car. Once I sank into the driver’s seat, I rewound the tape to a clean strip.

Nothing. It was full. Strange, it couldn’t have been, as I had plenty of space left.

I played the spot where I had left off before to make sure it wasn’t a mistake.

I gasped.

At the end of the tape, I brought a hand to my mouth in shock. I blushed, but I didn’t know if I wanted to puke or scream.

There was a lot of people in there, and they were all getting to know me, so I don’t know who would know me that well enough to leave an absolutely filthy message on my verbal diary. I stuck the recorder in the panel on the inside of the door as I drove back to the hotel a couple of blocks away.

I let out a long low whistle once I found a spot near the door and killed the engine. I decided to take the tape recorder into my room with me because I could probably figure who was the creep who left that message. But at the same time a part of me felt flattered that a guy went out of his way to do this for me and on something I kept with me on my person whenever I needed it.

I entered the lobby of the hotel and I spotted the tall, slender man at the ice machine on the side of the room. I recognized his jet black kinky hair, now quite the mess on top and grown halfway down his back in the most flyaway fashion, and most of all, that lovely curvature to his hips and thighs.

“Joey?” I called to him once I came within earshot. He turned to face me: he never lost that solemn expression and his eyes were as rich brown as ever, but in spite of his thin body his face was rounder, such that his cheekbones filled out with a sweet little smile at me.

“Hey, I know you,” he greeted me. My heart skipped several beats as I approached him with my arms wide open. As soft as ever.

“Oh my God—“ I almost choked up holding him and then peering right up into his face.

“Long time no see, right?”

“Right?” I let go of him to stick the recorder in my purse, out of sight, out of mind. “Oh my God. What are you doing here?”

“I’m in a band now. We’re recording a new album. We met with our producers today and they said it should be out in October just in time for my birthday. And our manager scrounged to get me and our guitarist both a room here because we’re both from outside the city. I was literally right down the street at a bar and I was just getting ready to go to bed.”

“And then I showed up.”

“Right. But shit, Hannah, how’ve you been, though? You look fantastic. I always thought you’d look good with a little weight.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen me after I moved out to Rochester. I was like... almost fat. But I’m an artist now. I just had my own show down the block.”

“I was wondering what was going on down there at that little gallery. The bar I was at was right across the street and I kept seeing all these people walking around, and I kept thinking ‘what’s going on?’ But I’m pretty beat, though.”

“Oh, I hear you. It’s been a big, long day for me. But... you wanna talk more over breakfast?”

“I’d love to. Here, I assume?”

“Of course. Hey, free breakfast is free breakfast.”

“True. Gimme another hug—“ He put his arms around me and I lay my head against his chest, and I closed my eyes. Even if it was for a minute, it felt sweet to be with Joey again. He let go of me and one final stroke of my back before returning back down the corridor to his room with his bucket of ice. I watched him slip inside before I returned to own room down the hall to my right.

I set my purse down on the table to take the tape recorder out and give that voice another listen. The second time around felt a little better. Maybe this guy was just trying to mess with me, or maybe he did want me from all the desires he expressed to me. They all felt so pure and from a different place. Maybe he just wanted attention. But I needed to find him, especially after my breakfast with Joey.

*****************************

“So tell me more about your band.”

It was a blustery day near the heart of New York City, and neither of us felt to be in the mood to go out anywhere no matter what happened. Joey had put on a baggy black button up shirt and fitted black jeans, and those black Chucks I remember from when we hung out at the quiet place.

“I love this ghoulish look on you,” I remarked to him when he sat down across from me with a paper cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin.

“Pretty rock n’ roll, isn’t it?” he replied, giving me a playful little smile.

“Definitely.” I eyed the muffin, which just appeared to be larger than his own hand. “Ever since we were little,” I noted, gesturing at the top.

“Hey, sometimes that’s all you need, especially when you’re a little boy and it’s all you can find for yourself. So anyway, my band—well, that’s not really correct. It’s not technically my band, they just brought me in because I can sing. They’re called Anthrax after... some kind of disease.”

“That sounds attractive,” I said, nonplussed.

“Well, we’re heavy metal and our other guitarist Scott was the guy who came up with the name after reading about it in a biology textbook. He said the name just sounded sinister, like perfect for a heavy metal band. But yeah, it’s me on vocals, Scott and a guy named Dan on guitars, and uncle and nephew Charlie and Frankie on drums and bass respectively.”

“Uncle and nephew?”

“Yeah, it threw me, too, because they’re like three years apart, but yeah—they’re uncle and nephew.” He took a sip from his cup before speaking again.

“And like I said last night, Dan and I are kind of the odd ones, more so me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Scott’s from Queens, Frankie and Charlie are from right down the block in the Bronx. Dan’s from Rockland, almost in Jersey.”

“But they’re all from the city, though,” I pointed out.

“Right.”

“How’d they find you, though?”

He chewed on his bottom lip before replying to that.

“I have my ways.”

“You have your ways?” That beckoned a chuckle from me.

“Of course. After you left, I kinda learned how to risk things and go forth by my own whims. Well, and it was the pressure of growing up, too. Growing up a half-breed Injun boy in upstate New York is quite the experience.”

He took a bite from his muffin and another sip from his cup.

“Did you go back to the quiet place?” I asked him in a low voice as he set down his cup and showed me a thoughtful look.

“Once in a while. I had to stop in seventh grade because it got—kind of depressing.”

“You were missing me.”

“Totally. You know I made new friends after a while but I missed that—that—I wanna say ‘feminine principle’. Just being there in the bushes behind the hockey rink away from the world was something I needed to feel comfortable about myself and it was something I missed.” He showed me a solemn little smile before taking another bite of muffin. And then I remembered the message on my tape recorder.

“Oh! You’re not gonna believe this,” I started.

“What’s up?” he asked with his mouth full.

“Last night after the show, I checked my tape recorder—I’ve kept a spoken word diary since high school just because I, too, was alone with no one to talk to and I needed to vent somehow—“

“Mm-hmm...”

“—so anyway I checked the tape after the show, you know for a new entry—and at some point or another, some guy left this—very interesting message on there.”

“Interesting?” he echoed, his mouth full of muffin. “How so?”

“Filthy. Absolutely filthy and naughty.”

“Like... sexual?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Very. It weirded me out at first but I gave it another listen and I found it kinda flattering to be honest.”

“Like some dude walked in and he didn’t wanna bug you so he told you how he feels about you, though.”

“I guess so. You know I’m not such a mess after all.”

That coaxed a chuckle out of him. He took another bite of muffin before glancing down at his wristwatch.

“Oh shit, I gotta go! I think Danny already left, though—I haven’t seen him.”

“I’ll take you,” I offered him.

“Oh, thank you!”

We stood to our feet and hurried down the corridor to his room, and then my room to fetch the keys. He kept his arm around me as we rushed out to the cold and the rental car; he left his hair disheveled when I shut the passenger side door next to him.

“So where we headed?” I asked him, tugging the seat belt over my chest.

“Uh... just a few blocks away over in the Bronx. I’ll show it to you—“

I started up the car and we headed on over to the recording studio in question. He showed me the way, past some bits of traffic, and into the heart of the Bronx.

“I hope you can find that guy, though,” he declared at the last stoplight beforehand.

“I hope so, too,” I admitted. “I mean, this guy—Joe, I’m not even kidding when I say this—this guy said the filthiest things I’ve ever heard in my life. Like... I almost don’t know how to react to it.”

He cleared his throat before he turned his head to me.

“What did his voice sound like?” he asked me. “Could you describe it?”

“It was like—throaty and husky. There were some points where he lowered it to a whisper and—it was kind of hot, to be honest. You know, sexy.”

The light turned green and we rolled forward towards the low brick building three doors down from the crosswalk. I pulled up to the curb, and he unbuckled his seat belt right before I pulled the parking brake. He cleared his throat again.

“Was it something like—“ He cleared his throat a third time and leaned into my face, his eyes hooded and his expression in a state of euphoria. 

“—Hannah... I want you,” he breathed out in that exact same whispery voice as on the tape, “to go down on me with your tongue all along the side of my dick.” He let a soft airy moan out from the back of his throat and ran his tongue along the rim of his mouth, and the result was my toes curling right into the inside of my socks. I gaped at him right as his expression changed into a devilish grin.

“That... was you?” I sputtered.

“Shhh!” he hissed, bringing a finger to his lips even though the windows were rolled up.

“That was you?” I demanded in a hushed voice.

“That was all me.”

“Joey—“ I was rendered speechless.

“No! No! Please don’t tell anyone.” He sighed through his parted lips. “Okay. When I was across the street, you know—I saw all those people walking around and I wanted to check it out. So I took a quick walk over to the gallery and I saw you in there talking to some people—like I recognized you almost immediately. I knew I couldn’t get in so I went around back and when the coast was clear, I ducked in and saw the tape recorder on the table in there. I assumed it was yours because I didn’t think some girl would just leave her purse lying around like that unless she was protected. I just... went for it and filled up the rest of the tape and got out of there before anyone saw me. I really hope it didn’t perturb you too much—I only did it to be kinda—you know, sassy. That being our thing and everything.”

I closed my lips a bit when he shrugged. I didn’t know what to say right then.

“Anyways, I gotta go. I’ll ask Danny for a ride back so don’t sweat it.” He ducked out of the car and into the cold morning.

“Yeah, yeah—“

Once he closed the door, I lingered there for a moment before rolling forward to the next stoplight in hopes of turning around and heading back to the hotel.

I gave the recording another listen. I sat there on my bed with my mouth agape.

“Wow,” I breathed out when I reached the end. It made sense. He and I had known each other for years and the adolescence was the last time we saw each other. He was alone, and he missed me. But at the same time, this was an interesting, rather jarring side to him. I had always known him as that little Indian boy with no one to talk to; I thought I had known him but this was something else.

I kept the whole thing tucked in the back of my mind for the entirety of the second day of my art show. I watched my parents speak to some people on the other side of the room. What would they think?

It was the same shtick that night as the one before, and this time I really went back to my room with some big fat checks in my pocket. I strode into the lobby once again to find him walking towards the ice machine. He nodded at me and I decided to run over to him.

“What’s up?” he greeted me.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I asked him in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, of course. In my room or in yours?”

“Mine.”

“Okay—“

I led him down the corridor to my little room, right next door to where my parents were staying for one more night. He shut the door behind him and set the ice bucket on the table next to the TV, and fixed the lapels of his shirt.

“This is about that message, isn’t it,” he guessed, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“Look... like I said, I only did that to just play with you. I didn’t mean to like... creep you out or anything.”

“No, no... you didn’t,” I promised him. “But I brought you in here because—I wanted to tell you that I didn’t realize you were so... sexual.”

“Well...” he began reluctantly, “let’s just say I missed you, especially right around that time when—things happen.” He spoke with that same husky, breathy voice like on the tape. He parted his lips and unfastened the top button on his shirt to show off more of his chest. I wanted to touch him.

I lunged for him with my arms wide open.

“Oh—Oh, Joey—“ I breathed out before locking my lips with his. So soft. The only boy who could feel so soft and so like home to me.

He put his hands on my back before he tugged me towards the bed. I could feel him taking off my blouse and then unhooking my bra. I tossed the bra to the side and unfastened my jeans, but I decided to keep them on for a moment more. I unbuttoned his shirt to feel his chest and his stomach. His skin felt smooth and warm like melted butter underneath my lips. I undid his jeans and kissed him all the way down his happy trail, and that stripe of warm, utterly gorgeous skin. I could feel myself growing moist with every caress of his skin. So soft, and also... sexy.

“Okay, this is hot,” his voice broke as I inched closer to his genitals. I peeled back his jeans to better reach for his length. So big and full; makes sense with those thick thighs and those gorgeous hips; I could see he was erecting. I knew he wanted it, just like he said.

I put my lips around it first before running my tongue along the side. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his eyes snapped shut and his lips pouted. He was surrendering to the feeling. I curled my tongue around the shaft like I was licking a popsicle. I put my lips around it again when I tasted something salty. He came right in my mouth. He let out a gentle but broken moan when I swallowed it down.

I let go because I could feel him tapping on my arms. I crawled over him when he reached down my jeans and into my panties. His fingers wriggled right into me.

“Wet as the streets outside,” he groaned out. I never realized how good that felt, with his fingers twitching and rubbing against that little spot. I stared right into his face as I could feel myself rising higher and higher. It was like a runner’s high, feeling my heart pound faster and my lungs scarcely fill with air but all I had with me was him, was Joey.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming—!” I sputtered into his face.

“That’s it!” he grunted, and he let go of me. I lay down on his chest which brought out a groan from him. We both panted from the intensity, but then he started laughing.

“Wha—?” I could hardly breathe.

“That’s my girl,” he said in a broken voice. I lifted myself off of him so he could take off his shirt and his jeans. I could taste him all on the inside of my mouth, but I could care less. I crossed a new threshold with my best friend, and I felt closer to him. Once he returned out of the bathroom, he invited me into the bed. He lay down on his side first and, once I switched off the lamp, I nestled in before him. I lay my head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Mmm, oh, Joey—that was wonderful,” I whispered to him.

“That was everything I could’ve ever asked for from you, Hannah, baby doll.” His fingers stroked up my back and into my hair.

“But let’s keep this a secret, though, okay?” he suggested. I took a glimpse up at his lovely dark face staring back at me.

“Yeah, of course,” I promised him. “This here is our safe spot.”

“It’s our safe spot,” he echoed, showing me that little smile again through the darkness. “It’s a quiet place.”

I put my arms around his slim waist only to find he was still soft, still holding that sweet softness I had been longing for these past eleven years. I had been wanting to feel him again, in the deepest way possible, and in what better setting than in a quiet place.

#joey belladonna #anthrax #80s #fanfic #fanfiction #heavy metal fanfiction #smut and angst #lemontober2019 #lemon #oneshot #scott ian #dan spitz #frank bello #charlie benante #long post #text #SHOW THIS BOI SOME LOVE OR I WILL THROW GOOD & PLENTIES AT YOU #so hot omg

[fatathlon]

Race Report: Greater Nashua Sprint Triathlon

My first triathlon of 2019 was a sprint distance race held in southern New Hampshire, called the Greater Nashua Sprint Triathlon. I settled on this race in particular after several months of research, trying to find a race that was both within driving distance and lined up with my training schedule for my 70.3 race. I didn’t know anything about it other than what I found on the website and Facebook page, but it was the 10th annual running of the event, so it seemed likely to be a well-organized race.

Pre-Race

An added bonus to this race was that my wife’s parents and brother live just an hour away from the race location, so we were all able to stay with them and combine it into a family visit. It’s a huge benefit to race day preparations to be in a comfortable location with family before an event, so I’m grateful we were able to have that opportunity. I went to bed at the same time as my kids, and actually managed to sleep through most of the night. I only woke up once, at about 3 AM, and then drifted in and out until about 5, when I got up.

Breakfast was my customary bowl of oatmeal flavored with maple syrup with a coffee. While I had the syrup out, I took the opportunity to fill my gel bottle. I still wasn’t sure if I would even use fuel during the race, because it was so short, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have it along.

Breakfast

Race Fuel

Nice morning view

I had everything pretty much ready to go the night before, so all I had to do in the morning was load my bike, put my transition bag in the car, and head out. The drive was uneventful. As I got close to Nashua, I started to see more and more cars carrying bikes. It wasn’t long before I saw a fully decked out Quintana Roo on the back of a pickup. Welcome to New Hampshire.

Parking was an absolute nightmare. There was a lot designated for racers, which was the entire area around a local school, but it was already packed to the gills by the time I arrived. I ended up having to park underneath a swing set. I checked the air in my tires at my car, put my transition bag on my bag and rode to the transition area.

Transition was pretty well organized, with everyone having a marked spot on the racks. Once again my bike was too tall to fit very well on the rack. The saddle was too high to easily get it under the bar, and then there wasn’t enough of a hang to keep it on there securely. Not much I could do about it, so I set up my transition stuff and went to get body-marked, check out the transition routes, and wander down to the water.

My transition setup. My rear wheel is basically on the ground.

There were about 15 minutes of announcements before the race, which felt like they took forever. I tried to keep my arms moving, doing some arm circles and such, but mostly just stood around feeling my springs coil. Finally, they started calling waves. Everyone had an assigned wave number, and when your wave was called, you went down to a dock area to check-in and queue up for the start.

Swim

This was my first race wearing a wetsuit. It was also my first race with a wave start. It cheated everyone out of some time, because the timing mat was on the dock and the waves treaded water for a minute or two before actually starting. But at least everyone lost the same amount of time, so it didn’t really matter.

I put some water on the back of my neck just before jumping in, but it felt like a warm bath. I was prepared for a cold shock when stepped off the dock, but it was just balmy. I grabbed the start line rope and floated until the starter gave us the go signal, then I was off.

One of the first waves heading out

Almost immediately, I felt like something was wrong. I wasn’t more than 30 seconds into it and I felt absolutely awful. I thought I might be getting sick. Was I even moving? I couldn’t really tell. My line was way off, too, and I kept veering to the right. I tried to focus on my technique and things got a little better. I decided that whatever I was feeling, it wasn’t getting any worse, so I would just push through it. I had done enough swim training to know that I wouldn’t suddenly drown or anything, especially while wearing a buoyant wetsuit. The worst case was that my arm strength would just give out, and it hadn’t yet. So there was no reason to stop. On I went.

About halfway through the loop, I started catching some people. I have no idea if they were in my wave or the wave before mine, or possibly the wave after mine, having gotten ahead of me at the start. I didn’t try to swim over anyone but I didn’t really seem them coming, either, so some contact was inevitable.

I hadn’t set a goal time for the swim, but from experience I expected something between 10-15 minutes in the back of my mind. When I finally stood up to exit, it felt like it had been twice that, but I figured realistically it was maybe 12 minutes.

I looked at my watch and saw an 8. Suddenly things made a little more sense. I had been going faster — much faster — than I thought. No wonder I felt like my chest was going to explode.

Official Swim Time: 8:49 (.3 mi) – 1:41/100 yd 7/32 in age group; 34/414 overall

T1

T1 sent us up a sandy path through the woods to the grassy area where the bikes were. There were wetsuit strippers waiting for us, which was awesome. I pulled my wetsuit down below my waist, slid into home on the tarp, and my suit was popped off before I even knew what was happening. I thanked the volunteers and headed to my bike.

About to get stripped

I had toyed a bit with leaving my shoes on my bike with rubber bands, but ultimately couldn’t really figure out how to do it so it worked properly, and I was worried about the rubber bands getting caught in my gears, so I decided to just put my shoes on in transition, run the bike out, and clip in. I certainly wasn’t going to try a flying mount, so this was a reasonable option for me. At the last second I grabbed my maple syrup bottle and slid it into my tri suit pocket.

Official T1 time: 3:13 – 91/414 overall

Bike

The bike route was very short, and very flat. I’d only done three previous races before this one, but this was the shortest and flattest by far. I had been doing a lot of mental gymnastics about the bike leg in the days leading up to the race, debating my approach. Overall, I wanted this race to be something of a practice session for my 70.3 — transition logistics, using a wetsuit, etc. I thought about also extending that to pacing, to practice the mental and emotional control required to slow myself down at the start of the bike leg so that I would be able to hold the right pace throughout, and then have enough left over for the run. But as soon as I was clipped in, that decision was made. It was go time.

Because I didn’t have any pacing or power targets, I ended up watching my heart rate most of all while out on the course, followed by my speed. My heart rate was shockingly high compared to the levels I was used to seeing during my training, which is predominantly spent in zone 2. But I knew that wasn’t necessarily a problem. The race was short enough that I could work at or above threshold for the whole thing. They call it a sprint for a reason, after all.

The other fun thing about a sprint is that passing someone on the bike leg is usually permanent. In a longer race, it can often be just the first of two meetings, the second of which being when they come back and smoke you on the run. But in a sprint, they are more likely to run out of road if you go full throttle on the bike. Since it was a wave start, I knew that passing people was not an entirely accurate representation of my place in the field. But it was motivating anyway. So I reeled in as many people as I could, and made sure that nobody passed me. The best part was passing those $6,000 tri bikes on my gravel bike with regular old drop bars.

As it turned out, I was glad to have my maple syrup on board. I took a couple hits, one partway through and one just before T2. It felt helpful, and made me realize that I would probably need more fuel than I had been thinking during my longer race in July.

The bike course covered, I had a clean dismount just at the line, and ran my bike in to the transition area again.

Official Bike Time: 25:45 (9.6 mi) – 22.4/mph 4/32 in age group; 18/414 overall

T2

T2 was my slowest performance on the day, relative to the field. I didn’t deliberately go slow, but I wasn’t rushing, either. I’m pretty particular about how my shoe lace-up feels, and that combined with the socks I use (which are not super easy to get on) probably accounted for my slow time. But I made it out on the run with everything I needed and feeling pretty good, so I wasn’t too worried about blitzing through T2.

Official time: 1:51 – 313/414 overall

Run

I expected to be running fast out of transition, having experienced that phenomenon before. Adrenaline is high and you are excited to just get going, and before you know it you’re running way faster than you expected. I checked my watch after a couple hundred yards and saw I was running close to 7:30 min/mi, which is very fast for me. For reference, I ran all of my sprints last year at around 9:00 min/mi. My first reaction was to feel like I needed to back off, slow down and find a more conservative pace, but then I remembered it was only 3.1 miles. I was able to hold a strong pace through the swim and bike, why not the run? Might as well go for it, and see how long I could hold it before I slowed down. The worst case was that my pace would slow for the back half of the race, but I knew I would finish no matter what. Go time continued.

I focused on my cadence through most of the run, trying to keep the rhythm even and high. That seems to be my key to running fast (such that “fast” is, for me), when I need to. If I think about ‘running fast,’ it’s harder to do, but if I just focus on my cadence, it’s easier for some reason.

The run was also a very flat course, with only a couple slight inclines, when my pace dipped closer to 8:00 min/mi. I was able to hold my cadence pretty well throughout. Two or three people passed me, including a 60+ year old woman and a kid, wearing the race t-shirt. Sigh. But overall I held my pace and I felt strong throughout.

By the time the last half-mile came around, I was starting to feel it, particularly in my hips and my abdominals. I was definitely on the edge, pushing to maintain the pace. There wasn’t much of anything left for a late surge, all I could do was hold what I had through the chute and over the finish line.

Official Run Time: 24:19 (3.1 mi) – 7:50/mi 11/32 in age group; 65/414 overall

Overall Results: Time: 1:03:55 5/32 in age group; 34/219 by gender; 36/414 overall

Post Race & Summary

The race venue had a lot of activities for kids, which was great for when my family arrived. There were at least three bouncy houses, plus a clown making balloon animals, and kid-friendly food. The food was great, and there was tons of it, all of it free as far as I could tell, at least for racers. It wasn’t just bananas and bagels, there was an entire sandwich buffet, flatbread pizza, Italian ice, all kinds of things. The only real negatives for me about the race organization and venue were parking and the lack of a professional race photographer (there were only official volunteers, who took substandard photos and whose coverage was incomplete). Otherwise, it was a well-organized and fun race on a decent course.

As far as my performance goes, I came away a little surprised and with a lot to think about. I had definitely underestimated my potential in the water and on the run. I really didn’t have any idea that I could swim or run that fast over any distance. Almost immediately, I started thinking ahead to July, and trying to sort out what that means for my 70.3. Obviously I won’t be racing at these speeds at that distance. But my personal bar has been raised, there’s no getting around that. Now I have the task of handling that knowledge without it infiltrating my head in a negative way. Expectations for a race are not usually helpful.

I tried to examine whether I could have gone any faster, any harder, improved in any area in order to jump to the 1st-3rd place podium from my 5th place spot. I would have had to be about 6 mins faster to do that. Certainly I was maxed on the swim. I don’t think I was at maximum capacity on the bike, but I was fairly close. The run didn’t have a whole lot of room to give, either. When I look at the actual times between 5th (me) and 3rd, here’s what I find:

PlaceSwimT1BikeT2RunTotal3rd8:202:2525:390:3521:0958:065th (me)8:493:1325:561:5124:191:03:55Difference:0:290:480:171:163:105:49

Clearly the majority of time lost was on the run. That isn’t surprising to me, since I’ve never been a fast runner. But I’m encouraged, because I’m way faster than I used to be. The next biggest deficit was T2, followed relatively closely by T1. The differences on the swim and the bike combined could be easily surmounted by improving just my transitions alone. Or I could have pushed a bit harder on the climbs (such as they were) on the bike and probably wiped out a lot of that time. But most of the improvement work to be done is clearly in my run.

Is this a microcosm of what I can expect at longer distance? It will be interesting to see how the ratios play out there. I’d also be interested in comparing these relative results to my results from last year’s sprints. That is, how much slower — relative to the field — was I in transition vs. the bike leg, or run leg. Maybe that will be a good subject for a future post. You can’t compare races 1:1, but I think you can get a sense of how the relative balance of everything plays out, and what that means for your skill set and fitness level. If nothing else, it’s an interesting diversion.

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[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things Fanfic

Chapter Five- Part Three

Phina and Nancy make their way to the field, hearing Jonathan's gun going off. Once they get to the grassy area, they see him shooting at some cans set up on tree stumps.

Phina smiles at her friend as he misses every single shot. Nancy also smiles in amusement.

"You're supposed to hit the cans, right," Nancy asks as they get closer.

Jonathan looks at the girls and smiles, "no actually, you see the spaces between the cans? I'm aiming for those."

"Well then you're a perfect shot Jonathan," Phina smirks sarcastically.

He does a little fake bow, making Phina snort. She loved when he was sarcastic, he learned it all from her.

Nancy sets her things down, Phina following suit. Jonathan starts to reload the gun.

"You ever shot a gun before," he asks Nancy.

Nancy laughs, "have you met my parents."

Jonathan snorts, "yeah, I haven't shot one since I was ten. My dad took me hunting on my birthday, he made me kill a rabbit."

"A rabbit," Nancy asks.

"Yeah," he shrugs, "guess he thought it would make me into more of a man or something. I cried for a week."

"I remember that, I went over and had to take all of your meals to your room cause you wouldn't leave," Phina says.

"Jesus," Nancy whispers.

Jonathan looks at her, "I'm a fan of thumper."

"I meant your dad," she says, sighing a little.

"Yeah. Lonnie's a real PoS," Phina laughs, "doesn't care about anyone but himself."

Jonathan nods, "yeah, I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point. But I wasn't around for that part."

Nancy gestures for him to hand her the gun and he looks down awkwardly, "yeah, just uh, point and shoot."

Nancy nods and takes the gun, "I don't think my parents ever loved each other."

"Must of married for some reason," Jonathan says.

Nancy raises the gun up, "my mom was young, my dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of a cul-de-sac, and they started their nuclear family."

Jonathan shakes his head, taking a glance at Phina who just nods, "screw that."

"Yeah." Nancy closes one eye to aim. "Screw that."

She shoots, the bullet hitting one of the cans. She smiles and looks at Jonathan, who smiles back. Phina looks in between the two of them with a wide smile. Perfect.

-

The three teens walked through the forest, Phina leading about twenty feet ahead. Nancy and Jonathan hung back, together, and Phina didn't mind one bit. She looked around the forest ahead of her, admiring its beauty. By now, almost every single tree had lost all of their leaves, which now crunched beneath Phina's boots.

Phina sighed, she loved being in the forest, it brought her a comfort that couldn't be found anywhere else, it even soothed her ever on going headache. Something about the way the trees reached for the sky, as if grasping for heaven, with its claws out. The roots of the tree shielding her from the damned below.

Not to mention the colors. Her artists soul yearned for any and all color she could find, the forest bloomed with it. Even this deep into fall, the fiery oranges and reds calling out to her fiery heart. She wish she had her sketchbook and her colored pencils. She'd capture the essence of its beauty on a page.

She was brought out of her mind by the sound of Nancy's voice, "you never said what I was saying."

"What," Jonathan asks her, confused.

"Yesterday, you said I was saying something, and that's why you took my picture," she explains.

"Oh, I don't know," he says, flustered, "I guess I saw this girl, you know, trying to be someone else. But in that moment, it was like you were alone, or, you thought you were. You know, you could just be yourself."

Silence, and then Nancy speaks, "that is such bullshit!"

Phina turns around as Jonathan says, "what?"

They had all stopped, and Nancy turned to Jonathan, "I am not trying to be someone else. Just because I'm dating Steve and you don't like him."

Jonathan shakes his head and starts walking again, "you know what, forget it. I just thought it was a good picture."

Nancy walks after him, "he is actually a good guy."

"Ok," Jonathan says sarcastically.

"Yesterday, with the camera." They both stop again. "He's not like that, at all. He was just being protective."

"Yeah, that one word for it," Jonathan says, waking away again.

Phina rolls her eyes as Nancy says, "oh and I guess what you did was ok?"

"No, I never said that," he defends himself.

"He has every right to be pissed," Nancy shouts at him.

Jonathan stops again and turns around, "ok, alright, does that mean I have to like him?"

Nancy stops, "no."

"Listen, don't take it so personally ok," he says and steps towards her, "I don't like most people. He's in the vast majority."

He turns and walks away, again. How long are they gonna play this stupid game? Phina groans to herself.

Nancy looks around, "you know, I was actually starting to think you were ok."

Jonathan stops, again, "yeah?"

"Yeah," Nancy answers, "yeah. I was thinking, Jonathan Byers, maybe he's not the pretentious creep everyone says he is."

"Guys," Phina groans, trying to stop their stupid bickering, she was getting irritated now.

Jonathan starts to walk back towards Nancy, "oh I was just staring to think you were ok. I was thinking, Nancy Wheeler, maybe she's not just another suburban girl, that thinks she rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does, until that phase passes and they marry some boring one time jock who now works sales, who lives out her perfectly boring life at the end of a cul-de-sac, exactly like their parents who they thought were so depressing."

"Would both of you shut the hell up! Right now, you both suck, and I couldn't give a damn about who's wrong or right. I'm out here to find whatever took Will and Barb, so save your petty bullshit for the high school where all these stupid little arguments belong. Got it! Good," Phina yells at them fed up with their crap.

They look at her like scolded children, both of them nodding.

"Now shut the hell up and look for this gods damned thing," she growls and turns on her heel in the direction they were previously walking.

They follow her with their heads down, not noticing the shift in the trees. Not noticing how the branches coiled and uncoiled, copying the motion of Phina's clenching and unclenching fist.

-

Night time had fallen, and Phina had slowed down to be next to her sister and Jonathan, for safety. They pointed their flashlights ahead, walking and listening to the forest around them.

Phina stopped, listening to a noise she had heard. Nancy stops to, also hearing the noise.

Jonathan turns to the girls, more so towards Nancy, "what, are you tired?"

"Shut your sarcastic ass up Byers," Phina whispers, listening harder.

"What," Jonathan asks, a little shocked at her words.

Nancy sushes him, "I heard something."

Phina nods, pointing her light in the direction the noise is coming from. She walks towards it and the other two follow.

The noise becomes clearer, a distressed and painful whimper. As they got closer, Phina felt her heart painfully lurch.

A deer lays on its side, injured, bleeding everywhere. Phina covers her mouth, to keep a small cry from escaping. She kneels down next to the doe, reaching a hand out to stroke her.

Nancy kneels besides her, "it's been hit by a car."

Phina nods, tears building in her eyes.

Nancy looks back at Jonathan, "we can't just leave it."

Nancy grabs the gun she had sat down and looks at it, Phina shifts back a little as her sister aims.

"I'll do it," Jonathan says, noting Nancy's distraught face.

"I," she starts to protest, remembering his story from earlier.

He grabs the gun, "I'm not nine anymore."

Phina looks into the animals eyes, you'll be ok. The animal stares back, an almost thankful look in its eyes. Then it's being pulled back, almost to quickly for Phina's eyes to process. She falls backwards and into her sister, who helps her up from the ground.

They all breathe heavily, "what was that?"

"I'm willing to bet that's what we came here for. Come on," Phina waves, tracking the trail of blood the deer left behind.

The other two hesitate, glancing at each other before following. The blood on the leaves glisten in Phina's light. Jonathan and Nancy shine their lights around, Jonathan holding the gun up as well.

The trail suddenly stops, making Phina stop and look around.

"Where did it go," Nancy asks shakily.

"I don't know," Jonathan breathes, "Do you see any more blood."

"The trails gone, like it vanished into thin air," Phina answers.

Phina turns and walks away from the two, Nancy almost doesn't notice, but when she does, she follows. Jonathan, unfortunately, doesn't notice.

Phina shines her light on a tree, for some reason, it calls to her. At the base of to tree is a hole, which emits a low noise that sounds more like a growl than anything.

"Phina, what are you..."

Nancy looks at the tree and then at her sister. They creep slowly over to the tree, bending down to look at it. A gooy substance is all over it, and blood. The girls look at each other, the same question on there mind, should we go in?

"Jonathan," Nancy shouts, but they had gone to far, he couldn't hear them.

"What could go wrong," Phina shrugs, she's read enough horror novels to know those where the most fatal words she could've said, but, she didn't give a damn.

She starts to climb into the whole, a sputtering Nancy going after her. They climb through the tunnel, coming out on the other side. Phina helped Nancy up and looked around.

It looked like the forest they were just in, but different, more sinister. Particles float around them in the air, the color of the forest void. It felt utterly wrong to Phina, yet familiar, like she had seen it before. No, she shakes her head, that's crazy.

The girls look around and start to walk away from the tree, their flashlights beginning to flicker. Phina hits hers a few times and it stops.

They jump as a noise comes from their right. They whirl their lights on it, and are met with the monster feeding on the deer.

Phina grips Nancy's hand, so tightly that she'd probably leave a bruise, but Nancy squeezes back just as hard. They slowly back away, one step at a time, staring at the monster. Nancy steps back and a strange vine thing crunches under her foot.

The monster turns towards them and roars loudly, it's mouth opening up just like the drawing Phina did of it. The girls bolt.

"Jonathan!"

-1868 words-

#steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #strangerthingsfanfic #strangerthings #slow burn #romance #one

[pennywaltzy]

Therapeutic (3/7)

And finally, they meet.

Therapeutic - In Danny’s eyes, the hits just keep on coming…though this particular hit may turn out all right in the end.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 3 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

Danny looked up at the building. It was nice enough. Normal brownstone, not that close to any of the precincts he was known at or the labs. Looked a little posh from the outside, but this guy was a doctor, after all. Flack had called him this morning reminding him of the appointment, not that he really needed any; he'd been on the phone with Lindsay the night before and she'd reminded him as well.

He hadn't talked to Mac about this, about anything regarding this since that point in his office or about Flack and Lindsay pushing him into going. He hadn't talked to Stella or Hawkes or anyone else, for that matter. Maybe Flack was wrong with what he'd said in the bar. Maybe he'd already pushed away his friends and Flack and Lindsay were the only ones he had left. I mean, Aiden's dead, Flack's not at work and I barely see him these days...Lindsay's the only one around and I'm pretty sure half the time she's had it with me, he thought. That entire train of thought was depressing.

Depressing. Just how you wanted to look and feel when walking into the office of a shrink... He straightened his shoulders, adopted his "I don't give a fuck" face, and walked inside.

---

Dr. Skoda looked at him, getting his first impression. He wasn't sitting in one of the waiting room chairs; instead, he stood by the window, looking out. He looked like a serious man; Skoda caught a glimpse of the expression on his face, and his glasses made him look older than what his file said. Not too much older, but enough for Skoda to realize that this man had some heavy burdens on his shoulders.

"Detective Messer?"

The man whirled around and Skoda got a full measure. It was disturbing how much this man reminded him of Det. Stabler. It was in the way they held themselves, the way they stood, wary and somehow vulnerable. Though, Skoda realized, this man in front of him had more vulnerability than he'd ever seen in Stabler. So maybe there was hope. Danny walked towards him. Neither man reached out a hand for a handshake; instead, Skoda stepped into his office enough to let Danny inside, and then he shut the door behind Danny and gestured to a couch before he situated himself behind the desk.

Danny was quiet for a moment. And then, before Skoda even opened his mouth, Danny blurted out, "I don't want to be here. Just thought you should know that up front."

Skoda nodded. "Understandable."

Danny blinked for a second. "Friends of mine...they're pushing me to come here."

"So it's not the fact that your job's on the line if you don't see me that's making you attend therapy sessions with me?"

"Much as I want to be a cop, I can do other things." He didn't mention he'd maybe stay a cop, he'd just have to go back to being a beat cop if things with him didn't improve. No working at the labs, no detective status...it'd all be gone.

"Your friends...do you work with them?"

Danny kept his mouth closed. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to give this a chance. To hell with the promises he made to Flack and Lindsay... "Yeah," he said, finally deciding he didn't want to be known for breaking promises as well as a temper. Like the two of them had pointed out, he was pushing his friends away, and he didn’t need to lose them.

"They must care about you."

Memories flashed. Flack trying to get him to go home and not talk to IAB when he'd shot the cop, Lindsay giving him the DNA results that implicated him in that murder...yeah, he realized, they did care. "Guess they do."

"And you care about them?"

"Yeah."

Skoda nodded slowly. "Detective Messer...I'm not going to make you talk. I might prod you with questions, and you can go into as much or as little detail as you want to. You can even ignore them. But I am going to tell you each week I'll be giving a report to Detective Taylor so he can judge your progress."

"How much information are you actually going to tell him?"

"The details of what you say here remain between you and I; not even the NYPD can get me to tell them anything unless they or I feel that it may put you or someone else at risk. And I've dealt with enough hotheads to know when you're letting off steam and when you're serious."

Danny's face quirked into a small half-smile on its own accord. "Hothead, huh?"

"Yeah." He paused. "You talk about non-work things here, I won't give them specifics. You talk about work, I may go into a little more detail, but nothing that breaks doctor/patient privilege. Mostly, I'm supposed to tell them if you're going to have a nervous breakdown or not."

"I can already answer that, Doc," he said. "I'm not."

Skoda nodded. "I'll make a note of that." He leaned back in his chair. "Back to your friends. Want to tell me about them?"

---

Forty-five minutes later, Danny walked out of the brownstone. The guy wasn't so bad. True to his word, he prodded a little. Danny didn't talk about Aiden at all; he mentioned stuff about Stella and Hawkes and Mac. Mostly he talked about Flack, all about things that happened before the bombing, and about Lindsay, in a general kind of way. He didn't know what to make of this guy, and as far as he knew, only one person would know what therapy was like because she'd told him she'd went.

He pulled out his cell phone as he headed towards the car he'd gotten from the motor pool; Mac had put him on call for the rest of the day after his therapy session and had authorized car use in case he needed to come in. He hit the familiar speed dial number and waited until the other end was picked up. "Hey, Montana, you busy? Got time for lunch?"

---

She looked up at him as he approached. She'd gotten a salad and a green tea to go from this hole-in-the-wall restaurant she went to a lot and met up with Danny in Central Park. She'd picked the spot: a grassy area under some trees. There were benches there, but if she was taking an hour for lunch outside, she was sitting on the grass.

He sat on the bench in front of her, looking down at her. He didn't have any food, just her bottle of green tea; he'd had a milkshake and she'd traded him for it. She was surprised when he'd agreed. "So...what was your therapy like?"

"A lot of talking. On my part, I mean. The guy I saw listened a lot, I guess. Half the time I doubt he was even really listening, but I was getting things out, so..."

"Did he kind of prod you along?" He brought the tea up to his lips after he asked the question. Not his usual drink, but she had seemed to really want the milkshake and it was a fair enough trade..

Lindsay tilted her head. "No, not really." She thought for a moment. "Not the first one, anyway."

He paused and lowered the tea. "You had more than one?"

"When I was in high school, I went into therapy again. The reason why isn't important, but this guy was good. He'd let me talk, but if there was something he thought I needed to expand upon, or maybe needed to steer away from for the moment, he'd ask a question that did just that."

He nodded, bringing the drink back up to his lips and taking a drink before lowering it again. "This guy I have to see, he's not so bad."

"That's good," she said. She'd pretty much abandoned the idea of eating until Danny got whatever it was he needed to talk to her about off his chest; she took this as a sign she could start in on it. She opened up the salad.

"That smells good. What is it?"

"Chicken Caesar salad, with whole wheat croutons, sprouts, and Roma tomatoes, topped with Asiago cheese."

He stood up, and to her amazement, sat down next to her on the grass. "Can I?" She speared some of it for him and let him take a bite. "Where'd you get it from?"

"Dog Star Salads," she said. "You make your own salads, or you can get pre-made ones to go. You can also call in ones and they'll make them for you. I had them make this after you called me. You want some more?"

He shook his head. "Go ahead, eat. Don't want to keep you from your lunch." He laid down on his back. "Is it okay if I ramble a bit?"

"Knock yourself out," Lindsay said as she chewed a mouthful of salad.

"This is the first time I've ever asked you to grab a bite with me and you've said yes. You know that? Glad you did today."

She said nothing, but she did start to grin a little. She hadn't been blind to the fact he'd made attempts to ask her out...not really. But today, she'd said yes because if nothing else, he needed a friend, and she was determined to be one. If it turned into anything more than that, great. If it didn't, no big loss. "I'm glad I did, too."

"So anyway," he said, leaning back slightly, "he asked about my friends a lot..."

#csi ny #csi new york #law & order #danny x lindsay #fanfic #fanfiction #danny messer #emil skoda #lindsay monroe #multipart: therapeutic

[ithinkthe4thkindisabuttthing]

Oooh, I know this isn't exactly what you asked but do you think maybe write some HCs for Mike/Will/Eleven? I have a mighty need for some cuteness for you because let's face it you are AWESOME at it 💟❤💓💕

Um, YES. Anything for you. I just got back from outside where it is 900 million degrees, so even tho I just wrote a summer thing yesterday, here we effin go

its the last summer before college and it is fucking h o t

everyone has a lot to worry about - college, jobs, etc

but mike just wants to spend time with his bf and gf, he doesn’t seem to be stressing like most of his friends

will tries to encourage mike and el to be serious about college apps - will’s already been accepted into art school but mike never wants to talk about school stuff and el follows mike’s lead - frustrating to say the least

mike distracts will with kisses, which will is embarrassingly weak against

el whines the most about how hot the summers get

whenever the three of them spend time in mike’s basement, el strips down to her underwear cause she’s still hot

mike and will have stopped trying to tell her not to do that, she knows better and she just doesn’t care

they have a lot of instances of shoving el into her ever-present blanket fort when mike’s mom checks on them

mike’s mom has no idea the three of them are dating

(sometimes karen thinks mike might be dating el, he’s clearly smitten with her, but she’s also seen el holding will’s hand and mike never seems to spend time alone with el anymore so…)

mike’s parents are the only ones who have no idea about their son’s odd relationship… joyce pretends she doesn’t know because will is so happy, hopper isn’t the happiest camper but as long as el keeps her door open when they’re over and they treat her respectfully, then he’ll deal

its almost impossible to keep el away from water

sprinklers going? she’s running through it, no shits given

lake? jumping in. city swimming pool? she’s not opposed to using her powers to scoot people out of her way. bathtub? she doesn’t even lock the door, its led to a few awkward moments

mike thinks its cute most of the time and always attempts to grab her for hugs and, if no one’s around, he’ll kiss her face all over - its sickeningly sweet

will wishes she’d show just a little restraint cause sometimes she gets yelled at for running on people’s lawns and its uncomfortable, also she’ll grab will’s shirt and get it all wet

but they both love swimming with her when they get the chance cause she’s so happy, even in the public pool

el likes to wrestle in the pool, mike’s always up for it even tho people give them dirty looks

will doesn’t necessarily mind except that he always loses wrestling matches with el

el challenges will to contests like ‘who can hold their breath the longest’ instead

there’s always lots of fleeting touches in the pool cause no one’s paying that much attention to them, its thrilling

will especially gets a kick out of that cause he can’t hold mike’s hand in public or give him kisses, but if mike wants to touch his waist or hold his hand or even pick him up in the pool, no one even looks twice

dustin, lucas, and max like to make fun of them

of course they know their friends are dating, they’re not effing blind and at this point they’re used to it

so lots of joking around and fake gagging noises at pda and sometimes when they’re just hanging out around town, the whole group likes to debate who’s gonna take who’s last name when these three losers get married

(mike is not thrilled that his friends think it’ll be mrs. jane eleven hopper with her husbands, michael hopper and william hopper… that’s not even funny, you losers)

will always gets a little emotional when his friends joke about marriage cause he loves mike and eleven so much

el was really mad the first time mike explained to her they couldn’t all ACTUALLY get married

mike was really flustered about it cause the explanation also felt like a promise, a really big one…

el complains whenever their friends want to hang out outside or at the park

she and max are ultra awesome skateboard buddies now and el loves it but she also hates being hot so its a toughie

she’ll tolerate it though, as long as its a private enough place that she can lean on / snuggle / kiss one of her boyfriends when the sun tires her out

thankfully these nerds also like to hang out in mike’s basement and play d&d, especially since this is the last summer they’ll all be together

mike and will do stop eleven from stripping to her undies when their friends are around tho

el eventually cuts up a pair of her jeans to turn into short shorts to wear when she can’t strip

mike choked the first time he saw her in ‘em, its so far from her usual style and her legs look really nice and he’s kind of scared if she bends over that everyone’s gonna see way too much

but she only wears them in the basement and she always puts a blanket over her lap if mike’s parents check in, so its tolerated

will’s always been way more attracted to boys - namely, mike - so sometimes he gets overwhelmed with his feelings for el

he’s gotten used to seeing her in bathing suits and her underwear so that’s ok, but sometimes she still catches him off guard by little things, like when she smiles and his heart beats faster…

why her smile affects will more than her state of undress is a good question, and he used to worry about it, but he does want to kiss her and touch her and he likes it when she touches him, so he tries not to worry about it too much

on fourth of july, hopper takes them to downtown indianapolis for fireworks

(lucas couldn’t come because his mom wanted one last holiday before he moves away for college; dustin was excited about going but max offered to watch fireworks in town with him… cause max isn’t oblivious that mike, will, and el have a chance at a ‘date,’ if hopper doesn’t supervise too closely)

its more of a festival than any of them thought it would be, except hopper who’s been there before years ago

hopper gives el money and tells her where to meet him for fireworks later in the evening, but he’s giving mike and will some disapproving looks the whole time too

still… hopper leaves them alone, and mike wonders not for the first time if hopper knows more about the relationship than he lets on

festivals are fun… mike and will try to win teddy bears for el at various games

will has to explain to el several times why she can’t use her powers to win, but she still ends up getting mike and will a few teddy bears

they end up giving all their winnings to some little kids but will keeps one of the bears el won for him; no one asks questions, el just kisses him on the cheek when she notices

fireworks are fun

they have a blanket in a grassy area; hopper sits next to el, el next to mike, mike next to will…

if hopper notices that el and will are holding mike’s hands, he doesn’t comment

as summer starts to come to a close, will is low-key having an anxiety attack about college

mike’s been reassuring all summer that it’ll work out and their relationship is ongoing but will doesn’t even know where mike and el are going to school / if they’re going to school / where they’re going to live

mike is finally like ??? “we’ve known you were going to art school since junior year so i figured out what was nearby”

will could just hit him… but mike doesn’t see what the big deal is

mike’s going to school to be a doctor, which totally blows will’s mind - mike’s talked about it in passing before but he never sounded super serious

mike admits that he doesn’t know what eleven is gonna do, she keeps insisting on wanting to be a police officer but she’s also been hoarding pamphlets for some social work school

will is half-relieved they’re going to be close, half-mad that mike never just told him that

“i didn’t think it was a big deal”

yeah, mike’s an idiot

#tag: my hc #blah i hate tagging things #stranger things #mike wheeler #eleven #jane hopper #will byers #byler #mileven #byleven #is byleven their ship name #idk i feel like i knew it once #help me out here people #is there a ship name for all three of them? #byeler #milevill

[yuniesan]

Girl Meets Season 6 - Episode Four – Girl Meets Old Friend

Synopsis: The Journey from High School and into College will test everything Riley knew about her life, her friendships and her love. What life lessons will she learn in her first year of college?  

[1] [2] [3]

A/N: I managed to ignore most of Tumblr and finish this.... but I miss Tumblr.... but Infinity War spoilers are out there and I’m trying so hard not to look for them.

Episode Four – Girl Meets Old Friend

 Riley’s third class of her first week was her writing class, she was excited because that meant that she was going to be able to write more than what she had before. One of the best things about the class is that it was a two-part class, so they were required to take the second one in the spring and in that class, they were supposed to write a novel. This was also the only class she had with one of her friends. Zay had decided to take it with her because it would satisfy a part of his minor requirements, and they talked about how they could both write the next great novel, but she knew that it was also something they could take together while everyone else took other classes. Maya, Farkle and Smackle had a history class together, Lucas had a class with Zay and Farkle in statistics, Smackle even had a class with Sam, but for Riley this was her only class with anyone she already knew.

“I’m so excited,” she said bouncing on her chair. Zay was sitting next to her and he looked at her and smiled, it was good that he was having happy moments, but she was still worried about him. She couldn’t help but worry, she worried about everyone it’s who she is.

“Stop bouncing around though,” he said trying to keep her down. “We’re only freshmen in a class full of upperclassmen.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said to him looking him in the eye. “We’re students just like everyone else here.”

Zay nodded at her, he was going to say something but was interrupted by someone nudging at Riley’s side. When she looked up she came face to face with another familiar face, one that she wouldn’t have imagined she would see again. Or at least for a long time.

“And here I thought that you would have gone to NYU,” he said, and Riley jumped up.

“Charlie,” she said as she looked into a familiar pair of blue eyes, his hair was longer than the last time she had seen him and he had gotten taller which put him in the same eyeline as Lucas. At the thought of Lucas, she was reminded of something that happened the last time she had seen Charlie during sophomore year.

“Well, well, well,” Zay said looking up at the two of them. “If it isn’t cheese soufflé.”

“Seriously I hate that nickname,” Charlie said before sitting down in the seat in front of Zay. “I really should have fought against it.”

“You wouldn’t have won,” Zay said to him smiling. “Maya is kinda powerful when it comes to making sure nicknames stick, why do you think she still calls Lucas Ranger Rick.”

“Anyway,” Riley said trying to change the topic from Maya’s use of nicknames, it was a running joke with Maya at this point. She had told Riley that she wanted to keep going with the nicknames because it meant that those people meant something in her life. Riley had a few nicknames, so did Lucas and Farkle, they had been the ones who had been around her the longest but lately Smackle has gotten a few and so has Zay. “What are you doing here?”

“I go to school here,” he said looking at her. “I mean that should be the obvious part.”

Zay laughed for a moment before holding back after she glared at him, “I meant why this school?”

“Well it’s close enough to home that I can visit but far enough away that I don’t have to be there, plus it meant that I could get away from my sisters, they’ve become holy terrors from the moment they heard I wanted to go to college.”

“Must be nice to be annoyed by siblings like that,” Zay said with a starry-eyed look on his face. Riley knew that he was an only child but the last time she had talked to Zay’s mother, before the she left for Texas with Lucas, she had told Riley that they were planning to adopt so that Zay could have a sibling and their family could grow. Zay’s mom wasn’t ready to have an empty nest, but it seemed as if she hadn’t told Zay just yet.

“Somedays it is but being the only boy in a house full of girls tends to get old fast,” Charlie answered Zay’s query with a smile at both of them. “Plus, I needed something new for once and this was the best place to try that out.”

“Do you have a major yet?” Riley asked him, she wanted to ask about his girlfriend but with Zay’s recent break up she wasn’t sure if he could handle another couple around him.

“I’m going to be a lawyer, ever since I joined the debate team in high school I realized that I’m good at arguing with people, plus I remember arguing with Friar a lot, although I didn’t win that one. Anyway, I’m majoring in criminal justice and history since the school doesn’t have a pre-law program, but pre-law is useless as a major according to my advisor.”

“Oh, we’re in the same program then,” Zay said perking up, this meant that he had someone to work with it was a good distraction Riley thought. She wanted him to be happy and not dwell on the past. “Why are you in this class then?”

“I wanted to take something that would help me with my writing, plus fiction is fun since my only other option was to take a class in math and I’m trying to avoid that right now. Also, who knows I could write a big novel and get enough money to pay for school.”

“Sounds like the dream man,” Zay said laughing before slapping Charlie on the back.

Class started soon after that, giving them very little time to talk as the professor talked them through the syllabus, the expectations of the class, and a million other things. They were in fact the only freshmen in the class, but no one treated them any differently, they were all there to fulfil some kind of credit requirement and that’s what mattered. They had been paired off in groups, the professor put the three of them together with upperclassmen but encouraged them all to work together until the end of the semester. They were only writing short stories, the big project being left off until the spring.

When class was over Zay ran off to his next class which was across campus, leaving Charlie and Riley behind on the steps of the building that housed the English and Com departments. Riley laughed as Zay waved at them before his footing missed a rock and he almost fell onto the grass. She was glad his spirits were up, but the worry over her friend still lingered and she wondered how he was dealing because he wouldn’t talk to anyone about the break up.

“So,” Charlie said pulling her out of her own thoughts. “Why not NYU?”

“I looked at a bunch of schools but in the end, I settled on this one because I liked the programs better. I guess I also got lucky because everyone else sort of followed me,” she said smiling thinking of her friends. “How about you? Where’s your girlfriend?” she was genuinely curious about where his relationship went since she had last seen him.

“I already told you why, but mostly it was cheaper than going away, and I didn’t want to burden my parents especially with how big our family is,” he said with a smile but he looked at the ground and she knew that something was happening in his head.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to tell me what happened with your girlfriend,” she said to him. It wasn’t a question it was a statement of fact and she knew it.

“Why do you and Friar work so well?” he asked her without looking into her eyes.

“Well we talk all of the time, it’s our thing we need to have those important conversations,” she said remembering the day they had gotten together. “I mean we have our problems, what couple doesn’t but in the end, we talk about them.”

Charlie sighed before walking towards the grassy area in front of the building and sitting down, she followed him because she knew that he needed someone to talk to. For some reason understanding people had become second nature in some ways, but even she missed things, everyone missed things every once and a while.

“Tell me,” she said as she sat down on the ground next to him, letting the sun warm her skin, never really looking at him because he wasn’t looking at her.

“She broke it off,” he said with a sigh. “Actually, she cheated on me with one of my teammates from the soccer team, I had found them one day after a game making out behind the bleachers at one of our rival schools.”

Riley felt powerless all of a sudden, there were so many broken hearts all around her and she couldn’t do a thing. “I’m sorry,” she said to him.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he ran his hand through his hair, it was weird to see it so long but it suits him. “I guess I need to live with the fact that things like this happen, but it happened months ago and it still hurts.”

“Well you have a friend right here if you need one,” she said even though she knew that Lucas would have a problem with it but she would deal with that when she told him about it.

“Are you sure,” Charlie said he eyes wide and she knew that he had been thinking the same thing.

Riley couldn’t help but laugh out loud, everyone knew her so well, they knew Lucas so well too, it was strange but in the end it was nice to have people around who understood her world.

“Yes, I’m sure, and I’ll talk to Lucas because we promised a long time ago not to keep secrets from one another.”

“If you say so,” he said before getting up off the ground and brushing the grass off of his pants. “Wanna go get some lunch?”

“Sure,” she said before shooting off a quick message to Lucas to join them. She didn’t warn him about Charlie being there, she wanted to find a way to introduce them to each other as her friend Charlie not a guy who may want to date her. Charlie knew that her relationship with Lucas meant the world to her, they had talked about this before, even though they haven’t seen one another in a while.

The two of them got their food and sat down at one of the empty tables and started talking, but after five minutes she felt him before she saw him. Lucas was a presence that she couldn’t ignore it was weird how attuned she was to him but she loved it so much as well.

“Hi Riley,” he said kissing her on the cheek before sitting down. “Gardner.”

“Be nice Lucas,” she said but when he smiled at her she was thrown for a bit.

“Don’t worry Riley,” he said with a smile. “We actually ran into each other in the dorms a while ago, but I told him not to say anything for now.”

“Uh why?” she asked looking between the two of them. “This isn’t a giant prank is it because I will kick you into next week if it is.”

“It’s not,” Charlie said to her giving her a smile. “We talked and said that we were going to try and be nice to one another, I mean there was a time when we thought that we could be friends so we’re going to try for that now.”

“So why not tell me that Charlie was here,” she said turning to Lucas.

“Because I knew that you needed a surprise of some kind,” Lucas said with a smile. “I know you want us all to be happy but sometimes you don’t get any surprises at all because you’re the one always in control of everything. So, I wanted you to have something that was out of your hands.”

“So, you’re okay with me and Charlie hanging out?”

“It’s fine Riley,” he said taking her hand and holding it against his chest just above his heart.

“I need to get away from all of this fluff,” Charlie said rolling his eyes. “Trust me Riley, after all of this time I realized that I don’t feel like that for you. It’s probably just so school boy crush, but what you two have I know is one in a million, so take care of it.”

“Actually,” Riley turned to him. “It’s not, it just takes a lot of work to get to where we are, and finding that one person who will make it worth it.”

“Well that’s a little too romantic for me right now,” Charlie said with a smile. “But I guess if I’m around you long enough I might find that too, if the track record with your friends is anything to say about it.”

At his words Riley felt awful because the one person who hadn’t had a good ending in a relationship was currently pushing himself to be happy around everyone. Charlie walked off soon after leaving Riley and Lucas alone, the two of them talked about their day before Riley went off to her next class. As she was walking home later that day, she found herself looking at a person sitting on a bench by themselves. It was still light enough out for her to see that it was Zay, but he wasn’t moving, he was just sitting there staring out into the distance. She sat down next to him and he didn’t acknowledge her presence, instead of saying anything she just sat there with him and waited.

“You know,” he said after the sun had set on the horizon. “I’ve been debating about whether I’m alright with any of what has been happening. I’m not struggling with school, it’s only the first week, but I’m struggling with my own life.”

“Do you blame me for any of this?” she asked him because she wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m grateful for the time I had with Cassie, but I feel like a teenage romcom where I know this is supposed to make me stronger and the next person I meet will change my life.”

“But it still hurts, and life isn’t a movie.”

“Yes, but I need to go through this, and maybe whoever comes along in the future will give me something even more special than first love,” he smiled at her but his tears made it bittersweet. “I mean we can’t all have an epic romance.”

“We can, we just have to want it as much as the next person,” she said before taking his hand and holding onto it, it felt the same as when she held onto Auggie. Somehow Zay had become a part of her family. “Zay, remember no matter what you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I won’t,” he said to her as he leaned back onto the bench. “I have you guys, I have my family, but somedays I think I just like finding myself looking out into the distance and thinking about the happy times.”

“I feel like we should have chocolate cake and ice cream, and watch extremely horrible movies,” she said trying to cheer him up.

“I wouldn’t mind the cake, but considering the last time something happened in our group that involved ice cream, well I might want to stay away from that,” he said before letting go of her hand and hugging her she was surprised by the sudden contact.

“I promise I won’t push it into your face,” she whispered.

“Okay, but can we go to your room, I don’t want the guys to know I feel like this.”

“It wouldn’t make you less of a man Zay,” she said to him before putting her arms around him and holding onto him for a little while. “But if that’s what you want we can do that.”

“Thanks Riley,” he said smiling at her. “No rom coms though.”

“How about I know exactly what we should watch then,” she said as she pulled away standing up. “Let’s go.”

When they got to her room, with two bags of ice cream and chocolate snack cakes, Sam was sitting on her bed staring out into the room like she didn’t know what she should be doing. Riley smiled and asked her to join them. They ended up watching the Maze Runner movies, because there’s very little if no romance at all in them, even though Zay swears that they messed up too much of the books, while Sam screamed out that Brenda was supposed to be immune. Riley wasn’t sure if she should yell at the movie like they were, so instead she filled up their drinks and handed out the last of the ice cream before it melted.

It was the first time she really hung out with her roommate, and while she still didn’t know a lot about the girl, she knew that they would be good friends if Sam could accept a random movie night without question. The three of them had passed out on the floor in front of the small television that was in the room. They had somehow built a fort around themselves and were under it without a care in the world.

“We should do that more often,” Sam said the next morning as they sat down for breakfast. It was only ten to eight but they were all happily eating eggs and pancakes. Zay wearing one of Lucas’s hoodies that Riley had stolen from him during senior year.

“I second that,” Zay said before shoving food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten an entire bag of cake and ice cream the day before.

“I’m fine with it, but next time not on a school night, and we need more pillows,” Riley said, her back felt sore from being on the floor.

That’s how they ended up with Thursday night movies, just the three of them, or when one of the was feeling especially down they would get together. Charlie joined them the week after, because he found out his ex-girlfriend had a new boyfriend, Lucas joined them after that. Maya usually went to the city on the weekends to spend time with Josh, while the geniuses had started going to club meets on the same night. It was strange to be in a room where Maya wasn’t, but her best friend hadn’t complained about it so Riley let it go, making sure to add some Maya time to her week for days when she was on campus.

#Girl Meets Season 6 #rucas fanfic #riley matthews #Zay Babineaux #charlie gardner #Lucas Friar #girl meets world fanfic #rucas