Can I request a senku x fem reader where she goes with the group to the cave instead of magma and her and senku end up cuddling for warmth and senku is all flustered by it.

Gonna slight change this up a little, anon. I kinda sat on this knowing I wanted to write something like it, but never knowing where to take it,,, BUT it's cold outside and season 3 is up to the infiltration arc so Imma have a little bit of fall fun 🥹

Lowkey has the same reader from Bandages in mind tbh but I also like the idea of Senkuu calling his s/o Dragonfruit so-

If you’ve got a couple dollars to spare, here’s my kofi (I am a struggling college student 😳)

By Night in Caves (Ishigami Senkuu x Fem!Reader)

A figure shivers as a sharp wind blows past them. The leaves starting to change shades and the cold breeze in the air are enough indication of the fall season. While most people would probably be snuggled up in their homes under a nice quilt or a huge blanket, (Y/n) was out with Senkuu and searching for God knows what. She could probably ask him what day it was and he'd know to a T, but she'd have to wait until after their current expedition.

She did bring the Stone World equivalent of a light jacket, but the night air was starting to make it a little useless the longer they were out and about. Senkuu isn’t showing it, but she can just tell the air’s starting to get to him too.

It’s just the two of them at the moment, the rest of their ragtag group splitting off to other areas to find what they’re looking for. While Senkuu would typically go off with one of the other generals, Gen was really persistent that he go with (Y/n). It was beyond her understanding why, but she wouldn’t complain about spending alone time with her close friend again.

“Hey, Leek,” She lightly tugs on his sleeve as his crimson eyes stare far ahead, her own (e/c) eyes staring off towards a cave in the near distance. She points towards it once she feels his eyes on her, “Think we should check in for the night? I’m more than positive the others have too with how dark it’s gotten.”

“Think you’re just getting cold, Dragonfruit,” He hums in response, staring at the cave as he thinks it over. He grins at the sight of the many sticks and twigs around the area, tugging (Y/n) along with him as he starts walking in that direction, “I’m sure it won’t hurt to start a fire for a bit though.”

He’s super eager to get there, picking up various rocks, twigs, leaves, and sticks as they get closer. She attempts to help, but he’s moving faster than she can think. It’s almost a little unnerving… Kind of like he thinks this cave will benefit him in some way or something…

“Wait, is the thing we’re looking for in a cave?” (Y/n) asks, turning to Senkuu just as he gets the fire up and running at the edge of the cavern’s opening. He stands and backs away from it, holding his hands out towards it for a little bit before slowly backing away from it.

The fire is a reasonable size, big enough to ward off any animals and let anyone know they’re location if they’re passing by. Senkuu, however, is moving further into the cave. His flashlight is on, catching the twinkles of a few minerals and gems a little further inside. There’s a glint in his ruby eyes, made devious by the smirk on his face, “You can stay by the fire if you want, but I’m gonna scope this area out for a bit.”

She stares at him with a straight face, narrowing her eyes at him as he starts getting more and more visibly excited. She normally wouldn’t mind him doing his science thing to his hearts content, but it’s starting to get late and she really doesn’t want to sit by the fire by herself…

And almost like a gift from God (or a curse from Satan), it starts to rain. And it rains hard.

The fire is out almost immediately and Senkuu freezes in his tracks at the sound. The crack of his neck can be heard as he quickly turns his head towards where (Y/n) is sitting, who has visibly tensed up like a cat at the sudden change of weather. The first clap of thunder has her jumping ten feet in the air, landing a ways away from the cave’s opening and further along inside. She bumps into Senkuu as she lands, the two stumbling to the ground together.

“Well, that’s great,” Senkuu grumbles as he lays on the hard ground, sitting up a little to glare at the cave’s entrance. (Y/n) is more than glad, but she won’t admit to praying on his downfall out loud.

“Maybe it’s for the best… It was getting pretty late,” She settles for, sitting up and glancing around the cave. She then looks down at him, giving him a teasing smirk, “We’ll just have to snuggle for warmth, Leek. Stark naked~”

He’s quiet after that, his face turned far enough away from hers that she can’t read it. After a moment, he looks up at her with the most deadpanned expression he can muster. He doesn’t even humor her with a grin or an inch of a smile, moving his focus to thinking as he stares hard at the rain outside, “We could be here a few hours. While the cave hasn’t hit relatively low temperatures yet, we may actually need to huddle for warmth throughout the night to keep body temperature between us. We shouldn’t need to take our clothes off since we didn’t get wet or anything and we definitely can’t start another fire with all the wet materials outside-”

He continues to ramble off plausible game plans and (Y/n) is unable to keep up after awhile. She rests her chin in her palm, sighing as she lets him finish his little analysis. While he does that, she gets close to him and rests her head on his shoulder before pushing into his space. She gets comfortable, burying her face in his neck and leaning her weight into his body so the two of them fall back to the ground.

(Y/n) wraps her arms around his waist, snuggling into his hold until her body is flush against his. Senkuu’s thinking stops as one of his arms wraps around her out of instinct and pull her closer to his body. A soft flush warms and fills his cheeks as he holds her close, hand pressed flat against her back while his other arm lays out to his side. He looks down at her, hoping the small change in his breathing isn’t obvious as he takes in how close she is.

“Turn your brain off, Senkuu. You said we could be here for hours, right?” (E/c) orbs glance up at him through her eye lashes, a soft pout dancing along her lips, “I’m heading to sleep, so you should too…”

He watches as her breathing begins to soften, reminding him of fond memories in the old world from sleepovers past. He shouldn’t get so worked up, they’ve been closer than this before, but he can’t help but focus on every part of her he’s been struggling to ignore as of late. Things like this keep him from getting jealous of the others, because deep down he knows no one could ever be as comfortable with her as he is.

Even so, he’s still left only admiring her from afar. He’s lucky most of their comrades have picked up on his feelings for her, but he’s got a long way to go before he’s even close to ready to admit his feelings…

Yet… He can revel in moments like this for now, with her in his arms in rare private moments like this. He’s glad the mentalist set this up for him, regardless of the protests from Chrome and the proud look on Ukyo’s face. She doesn’t have to know he wasn’t actually looking for anything, he’ll just wake up before her and grab a few resources from the cave to use as a small diversion. For now, he’ll take advantage of his situation…

He plants a soft kiss on the top of her head, letting himself fall asleep after.

one thing that is impossible to convey to cisgender friends is just the inexplicable horrible disgusting feeling that comes from a deadname being uttered.

like currently, im closeted from my family and therefore only expect them to say my deadname and so ive become numb to it. at school however, i’m very lucky to say everyone from teachers to friends and peers know my real chosen name (not the one on this account teehee), pronouns, and that i’m queer. my teachers have been supportive because i also got lucky that i took classes with all the great teachers teaching them, especially my art teacher throughout high school. i also am incredibly grateful because i am lucky to have a good group of queer friends and a friend circle of supportive people (well at least for the most part. if you know, you know.)

with that said, every once in a while someone will say my deadname at school, usually an old classmate or friend i haven’t seen in ages but see me and give a passing hello, and it feels so horrendously strange. even though i hear and see the name everyday at home, when its said at school it sounds like an alien word of a language never seen outside of that utterance on earth, and having it directed at me just feels so strangely wrong.

and then this morning- a very off morning overall- something rare happened. remember my art teacher? yeah absolutely incredibly lovely woman, she is the only teacher that i trust to talk about my family situation or generally queer topics with, but also constantly stressed and visibly running all over the place in her mind. this morning, my teacher (who was just looking at portfolio assignments from the previous year, including my own with my deadname on it) just asked me something in the lesson about last year (a simple and yes or no) but for the first time sine literally a year ago, flat out deadnamed me. she hadn’t even noticed, it just slipped off her tongue and then she had to move on, and i have been sick and was very hungry and tired so i assumed i was imagining her saying it, but it was so distinctly wrong feeling and sounding that i knew it was real. the name sounded so unnatural in her voice, like her body knew it was false yet her mind kept speeding ahead. it sounded alien and it was directed at me but this time the direction made me feel as if i was wrong, as if i had just slipped through an alternate universe where i was still stuck in the same closet walls people forced me into time and time again. it felt like a slap in the face, a punch to the gut, a knife to an open wound. it felt like a reminder that no matter how hard i tried, i would always be too disconnected with who i am and how the world registers me. my name is My name but the deadname is still the one ironed onto my chest. people can nod their heads and follow the script but one mistake and i feel like a child caught playing dressyp and pretend beyond the age adults deem it appropriate. in one tiny word lasting a second from a slip up i couldn’t even correct, i felt more ill i had from the actual cold festering in me. and oce again, i understand this teacher enough to know this doesn’t mean any true malice of any kind, but man it felt like a disorienting kind of hell and made my ears feel so uncomfortable, and i don’t think i coudl ever explain it to my cisgender friends.

regardless of whether or not they changed their name, i know my trans friends could feel what i was getting at, but to everyone else they don’t feel it so they couldn’t understand it. i tried explaining it to someone and i couldn’t do it. i tried again and i couldn’t do it. being trans is truly such a unique experience even down to the aspects that many cis people ik feel they have enough of a grasp on.

idk if any of that made sense, or if this was anything worth saying. i just still feel weird and the strange alien way the name was said and felt still rattles in my mind

for the ao3 wrapped: 3, 6, 29 :P

*chuckles nervously* shoot now i gotta do the thing

Also sorry for being so late, number 29 made me have to reread my fics and I kept getting distracted lmao.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Kind of obvious, but my fic "What Did I Tell You? It's Like Utopia!" It was my first fanfiction in a long time, and was the first fanfiction that I wrote for Back to the Future. This fic got me back into writing, and was my first time actually trying to write out Doc and Marty. This one is probably also the longest I've stuck with a single fanfiction, considering I typically abandon them after maybe a chapter or two. Yet, I still gotta write the next chapter, which I most likely will get the chance to over winter break. 😅

6. Favorite title you used?

"I'll Be Somewhere" purely because I love that song. I named that collection of fanfictions after a song made by my favorite artists (The Happy Fits), so admittedly I'm biased for that one. "What Did I Tell You? It's Like Utopia!" is a close second purely because it's a line from the BTTF musical.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

*Starts digging through fanfictions*

Um, hard decision, but I guess this passage from "A Late Night in 1955" (BTTF fanfiction) has to be my favorite from this year:

Marty’s preexisting frown grew. “Doc, listen. to. me. I couldn’t give a fuck about what happens to the space-time continuum if my friend is feeling like shit!”

Emmett suddenly gave Marty his full attention. He never imagined hearing that level of cursing out of a seemingly innocent teen like Marty. Then again, he only knew him for a few hours. Perhaps Marty always spoke like this? If it wasn’t for the gravity of the situation, Emmett would’ve scolded him for this kind of language.

“What happened the night I went back wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know! It was an accident, and-” Suddenly, Emmett noticed glistening tears on Marty’s face.

What had truly happened that night?

A cold fear gnawed at Emmett as a million different nightmare scenarios unfolded in his mind. One stuck out to him the most, one that tugged at his own mortality. But surely he wouldn’t be so careless, especially with the possibility that it could also mean harm to an innocent teenager?

Thanks for the ask! :)

ABCs with Akira Kurusu

From now on, I’ll be tagging not sfw content as “merciless mode”, so please blacklist it if you don’t want to see it!

A = Aftercare 

The aftercare king. He’s so sweet and considerate regardless of the type of session you two had. He’ll be carrying you around, helping you clean up and showering you in gentle kisses and praise, making sure you drink water, cuddling you until you sleep while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, anything that makes you feel good, he’ll do it. Chances are, he’ll bring you food in bed tomorrow, too. If you manage to wear him out, make sure you spoil him a little too⁠—he needs it. 

B = Body part 

Akira’s favorite body part (on himself) is his hips. I mean, have you seen them? He’s got a nice ass and really nice hips and if you pay attention to those parts of his body he will fucking melt, guaranteed. On you, though, it’s hard for him to choose. He’s stuck between your thighs and your hands, loving the sensuality of both very deeply. He’ll pay a lot of attention to your thighs, kissing them, making a few nice marks, even bite them if you’re into it. Akira also loves to squeeze and hold them, just feeling them whether they’re wrapped around his waist or he’s laying down on them. For your hands, however, he also loves to kiss them, though sometimes he’ll playfully suck on your fingers, teasing you that way. He loves to hold your hands and squeeze them while you two are intimate in any way.

C = Cum 

If you used your mouth on him, he would probably end up accidentally cumming in your mouth once or twice, but when he can catch himself, will finish on your face or chest, or even himself, depending on the situation. Your mouth really just does things to him. Most often, though, Akira cums in a condom, but if not, he prefers to cum on your thighs and/or tummy, enjoying the way it coats your skin, also paralleling the way you likely make a mess on him.  If you ask him to cum inside you, however, he’ll be a little reluctant at first, but when convinced, gets shockingly addicted to the feeling, especially if you cockwarm him afterwards until he gets hard again.

D = Dirty Secret

Akira needed porn to get him off for the longest time, whether he read it, watched it, listened to it, whatever. He just needed something to keep his senses busy while he groped and fisted his dick. But that really started to change when he fell in love with you. He found himself unable to satisfy his lust the same way as he usually did, and anytime he closed his eyes while he pumped his cock, he could only picture you. The way you would writhe underneath him, the way you would feel around him, your sounds, your expressions⁠—when he finally let himself imagine everything he wanted to do with you, he ended up accidentally overstimulating himself, overwhelmed by the sheer desire he had. He couldn’t look at you for a week afterwards, getting too flustered by the memory of cumming all over himself because he thought of you. 

E = Experience 

He’s actually not that experienced, like at all. He’s young⁠; outside of being with you, the most experience he’s gotten is from his imagination, porn, and masturbating, really. He’s faking it until he makes it, and oftentimes, that works well enough. Akira’s a very quick learner, too, so even if he’s sloppy or a little inconsiderate the first time around, just guide him along a bit and he’ll pick up on things⁠—communication is key, here. Slowly but surely, he’ll become more confident in what he’s doing and become that sex god everyone wants him to be. When he gets older and more experienced, he’s sure to blow your mind every single time, even if it’s just making you cum from his fingers. 

F = Favorite Position

Akira’s favorite position to fuck you in is something that you’re on his lap for, or facing him in general. He loves to see your expressions and hear your voice, and wants to kiss you as much as he can, regardless of whether he’s drilling you into the mattress with every thrust, or he’s taking things slowly. His favorite position to be fucked in is from behind, where his chest is on the ground and his ass is in the air. 

G = Goofy

He can be both! Depending on the context (whether it’s Akira or whether it’s Joker), whether you two are in the middle of roleplay, whether the current mood is one way or another, whether you’re in a semi-public place or in Leblanc well after it closed, there are so many factors, but there’s always a healthy mix of both. The first time you two got intimate, there were a lot of laughs, though mostly nervous ones until your nerves settled down. 

H = Hair 

Akira’s got a little bit more of a bush down there, matching his hair almost too well. He makes sure that it’s nothing crazy and that he cleans himself regularly, but it’s not trimmed short or shaved. He doesn’t have a preference regarding whether you shave or trim or let it grow wild, but if you do have a bit of pubic hair, he might grip onto it while his face is shoved onto your sex, using his tongue to drive you crazy. 

I = Intimacy

He’s so intimate and romantic, kissing you with every other breath he takes, regardless of the situation, whether he’s a little rough or it’s something soft and sensual, he’s always holding you somehow or kissing your skin. He always mutters praises and gentle “I love you”s even during roleplay or “punishment”, it’s not something he can physically ignore. 

J = Jack Off 

Akira would get so sexually frustrated so frequently because he was never alone long enough to actually take care of himself, and if Morgana or Sojiro or anyone ever caught him getting himself off, he would probably turn himself in immediately to avoid facing them. When he does get the chance to get himself off, it takes a little while for him to get into the right sort of mood with how stressed and busy he normally is, but he ends up exerting himself a little too much and is totally winded afterwards. He’s left alone with his horny thoughts but can only act on them once a week if he’s lucky.

K = Kink

He loves having his hair tugged. It’s one of his biggest weaknesses, and something that will make him moan the loudest. Tug his hair at every opportunity: when he’s going down on you, when he’s fucking you, when you’re fucking him, when he’s kissing you, anything. Tug his hair, whether you do it softly, or whether it’s a sharp yank. It’ll spur him on or make him dazed, perhaps both. Be careful, though, you might unleash a beast when you do. 

L = Location

He’s split between the comfort of his own room, and the safe rooms in the Metaverse. His room is comfortable with a gentle ambiance, and has a lot of potential for any kind of intimate play. However, the safe rooms in the Metaverse give just enough of a rush of getting caught, the danger of being caught by his teammates and shadows alike makes his head spin.

M = Motivation 

There’s a lot that turns him on. Something that spurs him on very quickly is when you subtly tease him, especially if there are a lot of people around. Whether by squeezing his hip or sending one too many flirtatious looks, or whispering something indecent to him before acting like nothing happened, or eating food sensually⁠—there is a lot. His hormones are on a complete and utter rampage underneath that calm demeanor. He can’t help it.  

N = NO

Things he wouldn’t do fall under the extremes and bodily fluids, so things like watersports or intense BDSM. He also would never smack his partner across the face, and would not want them to do the same to him. 

O = Oral 

Akira loves to give, and that quickly makes up for his lack of immediate skill. He’s intuitive to your reactions and changes things based on how you react and the limited knowledge he’s gained from porn and sex-tips from magazines, so he finds that his favorite place quickly becomes between your legs, using his tongue to make you cum. Sometimes that’s all you do, and it’s intense and mind-blowing and your legs end up as jelly from the amount of times he pushed you over the edge. He does deeply enjoy receiving, but it’s something you have to beat him to when you get the chance, or he’ll latch onto you like a vice.   

P = Pace

It all depends on the mood, it really does. He does have a slight preference for slow and sensual sex, at least to begin, and if it delves into something fast and desperate and unintentionally rough, well, that’s all the more exciting, isn’t it? 

Q = Quickie 

When he’s strained on time somehow, which is more often than not, he is more than down for a quick round. He prefers being able to take his time, but he has to admit, the moments where you two are clawing at each other’s clothes and kissing so hard you’re knocking teeth together as you stumble into a closet or flop onto the makeshift bed, barely removing any clothes as you desperately plead for him to fuck you, are really wonderful too. 

R = Risk 

Akira is down to experiment for the most part, but a lot of communication needs to be involved depending on what it is you two decide to do. Taking risks is on a case-by-case basis, depending on whether or not the risk is worth it. He plays it safe at school, knowing being expelled from the academy is essentially a death sentence, but in the Metaverse, he’s far more likely to take that risk. 

S = Stamina 

At first, he’s wiped out very quickly. He tries to last as long as he can, and he succeeds for the most part, but after he cums, he needs a bit of a break before he can go again. But, like with anything, he builds that stamina up. At the peak of his game, Akira could probably last a long while⁠—long enough to make you cum at least twice⁠—and can go a few rounds, depending on the intensity of the previous session.  

T = Toy

Akira doesn’t own any toys. Morgana is far too much of a snoop, people are in his attic all the time, so he doesn’t feel comfortable having them. He would absolutely be down to use them, though, on both himself and his partner, regardless of what it is. It adds an extra layer to the bedroom that, though he thinks you don’t need, doesn’t hurt and only improves the experience. 

U = Unfair 

Akira and teasing go hand in hand. He just adores getting you riled up and flustered, whether it’s from sweet words that take you by surprise or dirty talk that sends shivers down your spine⁠—anything is fair game if it means getting one of those incredible reactions from you. He likes to tease in the bedroom especially, sometimes playfully and softly, others, more roughly, but if you plead for him to stop teasing you, he might just have to comply. 

V = Volume 

Akira actually isn’t that loud in bed. He’s rather quiet, actually, more pants than anything, followed by grunts and slight choking noises, small whines and finally genuine moans. He sometimes makes a conscious effort to be less noisy, so if you really want him to not muffle any of his god-like sounds, you could always put him in a ball gag or pry his mouth open with your fingers. But normally, his mouth is used to praise you or demean you, to tease you and torture you, driving you wild with how his voice can go from being so light and gentle to sending bolts of lightning to your nerves with how deep and sexy it is. 

W = Wild Card 

He has a high-key roleplay kink, especially when it involves his Joker side, whether it be a cops-and-robbers sort of deal, or whether it’s something of a thief stealing away a royal in the night. Akira won’t mention it to you for the longest time, but come to his bedroom wearing a skimpy costume and start pulling on those acting skills as you seduce him and he’ll fall right into your trap.  

X = X-Ray 

Akira’s slightly above average overall, not as girthy as someone like Ryuji and not as lengthy as someone like Yusuke, but well rounded enough that you can’t complain. Especially when you get to explore his dick and find the prominent veins that made him practically keel over, and realize the slight curve it has. It’s a very pretty dick, though. 

Y = Yearning

His sex drive is quite high most of the time, all things considered, but during moments of great distress, such as the deadline for a palace closing in on him, his sex drive will plummet from the stress. 

Z = ZZZ 

He doesn’t really fall asleep all that quickly, he’s more content whispering sweet things in your ears and kissing your face and telling you how much he loves you and how fantastic you were as you two cuddle, but if he was on the receiving end, he’s far more likely to doze off unintentionally during it. 

Sandman II

Hyung Line X Reader

Genre: Mystery, Psychological Thriller, Horror

Rated: M

Word Count: 4.2K

Release Date: February 26, 2021 @ 5 p.m. (GMT-5)

“Three years ago, the town was rocked by the disappearance of YN YLN. A bright young girl who had dreams of attending university and becoming a nurse. YN was a kind, shy, studious girl who kept to herself and never caused any troubles associated with teens her age. So imagine her loved ones surprised when she disappears one night from bed - never to be seen again. The strangest part was that all her belongings had been taken, all the photos with her disappeared, and all her social medias deleted. But perhaps most peculiar was the wet sand found at the foot of her bed.”

Warning: Brief mention of death and suicide.

             The first words out of Kim Seokjin's mouth when they reached the car, after having been escorted through the back entrance to avoid the press, were "I'm sorry." YN hadn't even known how to react before Seokjin launched into a full-blown ramble, "I'm so sorry about that YN. I just - I have been so worried. We've all been, and we thought you - but now you're here. They didn't even tell us even though we're listed and to just think about how alone you've been. How confused you must feel -"

           YN placed her hands on top of his which rested on the shift gear, “It’s okay Jin. I understand.” She smiled at him tenderly before her sister’s words flashed through her mind, ‘Isn’t Seokjin the best?! He’s the only man you can truly rely on.’ Instantly YN took her hands off him, folding them on her lap. Now was not the time to dwell on those things. If Seokjin noticed the sudden shift in the air he didn’t comment on it, simply stating: “You’ve always been so understanding.” Before focusing on the road and turning the engine on, driving away. As they exited the parking lot, YN saw all the vans from the news outlets parked outside. Some she recognized, others she didn’t, but what she did notice was a large sign being held up by one of the reporters. It read: Sandman victim finally returns.

           It was as much a shock to me as it was to everyone when Seokjin and I started dating. He wasn’t my type. I can’t say for sure what it was that drew us together - maybe loneliness - or maybe I just liked the way people stared in shock at the fact that someone like him was with someone like me. That didn’t matter though, Seokjin and the others were always there. They were whatever I needed them to be. They would do anything to make me happy, but I wasn’t the only one they treated as special.

           When the car approached the front gate of Nagwon villas YN frowned, “Weren’t we going to the hospital?” The thought of being poked and prodded like a rag doll wasn’t a pleasing one, but she knew disappearing for three years and not remembering anything didn’t bode well. The only thing that could give a hint at what she’d endured, and why she’d forgotten, was her body. Seokjin shrugged, “I know you aren’t a big fan of doctors, so I asked Namjoon for a favor.” Namjoon? She wasn't sure she was ready to see Namjoon or any of them for that matter. She hadn't even thought about seeing Jin until he showed up. ‘He’s like something out of a fairy tale, isn’t he? A knight in shining armor.’ YN shook her head, don't think about her or you'll start crying like a child again. Everyone in her family had always called her a crybaby, teased her for not being able to hold her emotions in. Right now, though, she felt less like a newborn and more like an overflowed dam. About to break at any second.

           “Are the others going to be there?” Is he going to be there?

           “No, Hoseok is out of town. He should be coming back tomorrow though; I wasn’t sure if you wanted him to know you were back but it's all over the news.”

That wasn't who she was talking about and they both knew it. Still, if Seokjin was being ignorant then it was for a reason; so she went along with it. "Shouldn't it be Namjoon's dad?"

Seokjin glanced at her from the corner of his eye, “Namjoons a doctor now, babe. It’ll be him you’re seeing.” Perhaps still sensing her hesitance he continued, “Don’t worry his family has a private practice in their house for situations like this.”

“You’re all still friends?” She asked, looking outside the window at the passing houses. They passed several houses she recognized, having been inside a couple of them. Nagwon kids always threw the best parties; likely due to their houses being huge and the large amounts they could spend on booze. Her sister would always drag YN to one when she was stuck babysitting, at first she’d just sit around on her phone. Things became easier when they started hanging out with the guys though: there was always Hoseok to crack jokes, Namjoon to talk random things about, and Seokjin to offer whatever it was she needed. Yoongi was always there too, but they wouldn’t talk much just sit in silence.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be? The best of friends.” There was no sarcasm or humor in his voice, he meant it. Maybe he truly didn’t care? Or three years was a long time to hold onto a grudge especially when the two at-fault for their problems disappeared from their lives. That’s probably why. With YN and her sister out of the way, things had gone back to normal for the men. Nonetheless, it felt like nothing between Seokjin and YN had changed, but that couldn't be true. It's been three years. That statement was difficult for her to wrap her head around, but it didn’t make it any less true. It had been three years and yet Seokjin acted like they hadn’t spent a single day apart. Her mind filled with questions and doubts, so much so she couldn’t help but ask.

“Did we hang out the night I disappeared?”

Seokjin took his hands off the wheel, she hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped, the look he gave her was a mixture of incredulity and hurt. “No, we didn’t. You told me you didn’t want to see me again.” His voice was tense, ears getting red the way they did whenever he was upset. “Don’t you remember?”

I did tell him that. She hadn't meant it of course, but YN tended to lash out when she felt cornered. Thinking back now, she remembered her cruel words how she had blamed Seokjin for something that was both their fault. The pain on his face and the desperation in his tone as he begged for her to forgive him, only for YN to kick him out and shut the door.

"I forgot. I'm sorry, Jin." She pressed her fingers into her palm, hoping the pain would take things off her mind.

“Hey.” Jin’s fingers gently gripped the bottom of her chin, “It’s okay. I forgive you, let’s just not talk about it again okay?” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.

YN breathed deeply before unlocking the door and getting out. The Kim's large beige mansion stared down at her - it was the first time she’d been there, and the nerves were eating her up. Namjoon will probably have a lot of questions too. She had barely managed to get through one of Officer Taehyung’s questions before having a panic attack, YN had no idea how she would brave against Namjoon. With nerves clouding her senses she failed to notice the black motorcycle parked on the curve, slightly obscured by the shrubs. Had she YN would have avoided walking into a trap.

"Heard you got your ass whooped by Min." Jungkook laughed, as he sat on the edge of Taehyung's desk. "Did he take you over his knee and make you count to ten?" At that, a couple of others nearby chuckled. Taehyung rolled his eyes, "If he hears you, he'll take you over his knee." Jungkook shoved him softly, though 'softly' in this case meant Taehyung almost fell off his chair. Deciding to ignore him this time, he focused once again on the small font on his computer. Several minutes passed before Jungkook spoke again, "Is this about YN? If you're looking through the case files you won't find anything useful. Trust me, everyone in this room has gone through it multiple times."

There was a reason there was press lined up outside, nothing sold quite like a morbid story. ‘Girl disappears from her bed in the middle of the night with no trace behind’ had a nice hook to it. Taehyung had already been in the academy when it happened, but he was still shocked - especially once he found out it had happened in his hometown. Nothing ever happened in this town, they called it paradise for a reason. Yet someone had broken into the YLN family home and stolen a girl straight from her bed, nothing left behind but a bit of wet sand.

“It doesn’t hurt to look again, plus now we might get somewhere that she’s back. Find out who did it.” Taehyung scrolled down and started looking at all the pictures, he’d have to swing by the evidence locker later to see what they still had left physically.

“I’m just surprised the sister didn’t do it, given everything -”

Taehyung spun around quickly in his chair, “Don’t say that. Minsuh loved that kid, she’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“Yeah well that’s not what I heard,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. “I know it isn’t good to speak ill of the dead, but Minsuh wasn’t as dignified as her name suggested.”

Taehyung turned away from the young cop, “Look you’re wasting my time and I have to focus on this case. YN’s going to come back tomorrow and we need to build a timeline, can’t do that without all the facts so just go away.”

Jungkook sighed, “Sorry man. I know the two of you were close,” Jungkook had seen how uncomfortable Taehyung had gotten when YN brought up him dating her sister. “But you know I’m not the only one that thinks so. Regardless, everyone knows it's not true now so there’s that.”

It doesn’t matter, Taehyung wanted to say, she died with everyone in this town thinking she was a murderer. Nothing will ever change that. Instead, he remained quiet, eyes focused on the computer screen. Gaze focused intensely on the pictures of YN’s bedroom as if they would wield together a logical story that would explain where she’d been this whole time.

Everyone in school had a crush on Namjoon. Smart Namjoon. Sweet Namjoon. Dimpled cheeks Namjoon. Girls and guys would swoon over him, talking about how they would love to feel his chest or sit on his thighs. They were all fools. Ah, yes, Kim Namjoon may look harmless but it's always the quiet ones you have to look out for.

It truly was a private practice, equipped with all sorts of equipment one might find in a typical emergency room. YN wondered why they would ever need something like that. Maybe high clientele? Though the closest things to celebrities that lived in this town were both Seokjin and Namjoon's families, then Jung's, and the Min's. Namjoon wasn't there when they first arrived but appeared quickly enough, the gentle smile on his face reminded YN of simpler times. "How are you?" It dawned on her then that was the first time she'd been asked the question. She'd been plagued by 'where were you?' 'how are you alive?' and 'I'm sorrys' since she'd woken up. No one ever thought to ask how she was.

“I’ve been better.” YN answered softly, afraid that if she spoke anymore, she would break down again. The men in the room seemed to read between the lines without her elaborating further. Seokjin squeezed her hand, “Well, I’ll give you two some privacy. I’ll be right outside if anything happens, okay?” Before YN could respond Jin once again kissed her forehead before walking away. Leaving her alone in the stark white room with Namjoon, who leaned against a medical bed. His left hand patting the space beside him, “Let’s talk YN.” She grimaced slightly. “You’re in a safe space YN. You know me I would never do anything to hurt you and Seokjin is right outside if you need him. We’re your family.”

Family. They had been a sort of family, the five of them: always hanging out, sharing stories, meals, and memories. It didn't matter that she was much younger or that the only reason she was tolerated was that Minsuh was dating Seokjin. They had always been kind, always been loving, always been there. Even when her actual family wasn't. They’re all I’ve got… at least until dad comes. Once she sat down the doctor offered a genuine smile, it reminded her of all the times the two would stay up late studying at the library. A warmth that eased away from the chill she'd had all day lead to the first genuine smile on her face, “Thanks Namjoon.”

“I told you to call me Joon remember?” His broad shoulder playfully brushed YN’s, before he began conducting his examinations.

      “You know being clandestine isn’t your strong suit.” Kim Seokjin leaned against the black LeoVince Racer waiting for his friend to exit from the back of Namjoon's private practice. Min Yoongi looked like he hadn't slept for days and had the corners of his lips turned upward in a way that was half-way between a snarl and a smirk. "I'd beg to differ." Yoongi responded, approaching the man as he adjusted white medical papers into his jacket's hidden pockets.

Seokjin eyed them carefully, “If you’re caught with those you could face serious trouble.”

Yoongi laughed, “Who’s going to catch me? The sheriff?”

           Seokjin rolled his eyes, empty threats and warnings weren’t going to change anything. “What do the papers say?” He tried to grab them, but Yoongi blocked his hand easily. Maneuvering Seokjin off his bike so he could get on it.

           "Ask the doc or her. She doesn't keep secrets from you." Yoongi's eyes were cold and his voice lacked the playfulness present before. Seokjin knew better than to press his buttons any further, "Go before she sees you." Not that it mattered much, YN would be face to face with all of them soon - a reunion was inevitable. Nonetheless, Yoongi was a sore spot for her; the more Seokjin could delay their meeting the more things could go according to plan.

        “So you’re officially a doctor?” YN asked as Namjoon finished up drawing the last of her blood. They'd done all types of x-rays, physical, and psychological examinations to check her well-being. No words had been shared between the two, but the silence was beginning to bother her.

“Well, yes and no. Still must finish my residency, but I have most of the hours done.” Namjoon replied nonchalantly.

Whenever the subject had come up before Namjoon had dreaded having to take over the family business, feeling it was a role he was being pushed into. Guess things have changed. “I thought you didn’t want to be a doctor.”

He shrugged in response, “I guess I finally understood why my dad loved it so much. Medicine, biology, psychology, chemistry are all things that are useful.”

“You became a doctor became because it was useful? That doesn’t make much sense.” YN chuckled as Namjoon placed a bandage on the inside of her arm. He chose not to reply immediately, instead, holding up a lollipop that was inside his pocket. She took it with little thought. “Little makes sense in life. Human beings are just inherent paradoxes.” Minsuh always said that. It was one of the things the two sisters never agreed on. Minsuh always argued that people could still technically be considered ‘good’ no matter what they did. YN disagreed. Can’t do bad things and still be a good person. Namjoon clapped his hands together, signaling they were done and proceeded to help YN off the bed.

“Thanks, Joon.” She shot him a smile which she hoped looked more sincere than it felt. Though tensions didn’t run as high with Namjoon as they did with the others, it didn’t mean it was smooth sailing. Namjoon, like always, understood exactly what she meant and didn’t push. “Of course, YN. Anything for you.” With the promise her results would be ready in a couple of days, he sent her back on her way.

When she exited Seokjin was waiting outside with a furrow on his brow. Now what? YN didn’t know where else to go from here, what else to do, it felt like she’d hit a roadblock. I could go back home. Was that place even home anymore? Without her family, furniture, memories – could she return, or would it be too painful? Was she even allowed to return? It had looked abandoned when she’d been inside, so certainly YN wasn’t trespassing.

“It’s okay YN. You can stay at mine until we figure something out. I wouldn’t want you out of my sight anyway, it’s dangerous.”

It didn’t sit right with her to rely on Seokjin so much – or be under the same roof as him – but she would be lying if she said it didn’t ease her anxiety. “You’ve already done so much. I couldn’t ask that of you.” Her hands were shaking as she said the words, but even if she wanted to say yes immediately. YN couldn’t be selfish.

“No, I haven’t. Trust me.”

Before YN could ask what he meant Seokjin took hold of her wrist gently pulling her to the car.

Jung Hoseok. Lovely Hoseok. Funny Hoseok. Sweet Hoseok. The boy whose smile lights up the sky and everyone just gravitates towards him. No one could ever dislike him. Mr. Popular always putting others before himself. Dear sweet Hobi is an angel sent from heaven, but he isn’t as innocent as he seems. People tend to forget Lucifer was god’s favorite before he fell from the sky.

“Honestly was it really necessary to put on this whole show?” Hoseok wiggled his wrists causing the handcuffs to jingle against the table. Taehyung’s face remained stoic as he proceeded to read from the file. “A bit strange isn’t that YLN YN returns when you just so happen to out of town, Mr. Jung.” His eyebrow arched highly, Hoseok would’ve laughed if not for the situation he was in. “No it isn’t. I take a family trip around this time every single year detective. I told this to the sheriff three years ago and I’ll repeat this now.” He leaned forward the mirth gone from his mouth, “I had nothing to do with what happened to YN. I wouldn’t hurt her or anyone else for that matter.” Hoseok sighed, leaning back on the uncomfortable chair. “Look officer, I know its procedure and the prime suspect is always the boyfriend, but it wasn’t me.”

Even if Taehyung doubted that with every fiber of his being, he had nothing else to go off on. Jung Hoseok’s alibis were airtight, had always been, not to mention it would be extremely out of character for him to harm a bug – much less orchestrate something to this degree. It had been reckless to ask for him to be picked up from the city, but today had been a long day and there were just too many coincidences for the investigator to ignore. “Very well Mr. Jung. You’re free to go but I suggest you don’t leave town on another family vacation any time soon.” He reached towards his belt, taking out the keys and uncuffing Hoseok. Taehyung was on a tight schedule anyway; it would only be a matter of time before the sheriff returned from his lunch break. Seeing his son’s best friend in handcuffs would only cause Taehyung to be even more reprimanded.

With the cuffs off him, Hoseok stood up, stretching his lithe limbs. "You used to call me Hyung remember? Back when you were desperate for Minsuh and you to be a thing." Taehyung recalled having felt the need to please her friends to get her to look twice at him. Where’s this coming from? Hoseok looked down at him with cold eyes, "You know we never blamed you for how you reacted to things ending Tae. Heartbreak can make a man go crazy after all." The tension in the room was palpable when suddenly a smile broke out on Hoseok's face. "Sorry, it was silly of me to bring that up. We were all kids after all." With that he walked away from the desk and opened the door, turning around just enough to wink at Taehyung before the door closed completely.

Hoseok felt his phone vibrate inside his pants and rolled his eyes, without even looking he knew who it was. Taking the phone out, he swiped right and immediately spoke. “Yah, you won’t believe what just fucking happened. Where are you anyway?”

“Sorry it isn’t much.” Seokjin apologized as he handed YN the pile of clothes. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping for essentials.” YN shook her head, “Thanks, I don’t need much. My dad shouldn’t take too long in coming to get me anyway.” She placed the clothes on the banister in the bathroom, content to finally be able to shower and become clean. It had been a long day, some soap and water might not wash the pain away, but she could pretend it would. There was another thing weighing on her mind, a thought that would simply not go away. For as kind as Seokjin had always been with her, even he had his limits. This behavior felt a bit out of character with the person she knew – the one she remembered.

“Why are you doing all this Jin?”

The man in question froze as if stunned, "What do you mean?" His dark brows furrowed, his lips turning down into a grimace.

“Going to see me, Namjoon, letting me stay over. All of this,” she gestured to the bathroom which had been prepared with candles, bath bombs, and calming music. It’s out of character for you. Kim Seokjin had never really been the romantic type, caring yes, but not sentimental. “Is it out of guilt?” Is it out of pity? YN may not remember what happened the night she disappeared, but that summer would forever remain ingrained in her head. "Do you blame yourself for what happened?" Or are you doing this because you feel responsible? Which one was it? Maybe all of them combined?

Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, “Yes.” Without elaborating anymore, he walked out of the bathroom shutting the door behind him.

             When YN walked out of the bathroom she felt much better. All of the day’s events had worn her thin and she was ready to head straight to bed, but not without seeking Seokjin out and confronting him. Yes? Yes, to what exactly? Everything? She hadn’t been able to find the house slippers she’d borrowed, so she traveled through the house and down the stairs barefoot. Barely making any sound. She could hear loud audio coming from the living room and voices on the other side where the library was. Though she could recognize Seokjin as one of the voices, her feet dragged her to the living room, nonetheless. Deeming it better to wait until he was done than interrupting what sounded like an important conversation.

           The couch had been changed into a leather sectional angled towards the screen as had more of the décor. It looked less like a family home and more like a bachelor pad now if YN was honest. Seokjin the bachelor. He had always had someone attached to his side whether it be a dancer, cheerleader, private school girl, and eventually her sister. What about you? YN shook her head, wanting the thought to disappear as quickly as it had appeared. The television distracted her once she picked up on what was being said. It was a newsreel showing a bleached blonde with shiny hair and pouty lips holding a microphone. Behind him was YN’s home, or what used to be, in the dead of the night it looked eerie. After basic introductions the news anchor began speaking:

           “Three years ago, the town was rocked by the disappearance of YN YLN. A bright young girl who had dreams of attending university and becoming a nurse. YN was a kind, shy, studious girl who kept to herself and never caused any troubles associated with teens her age. Imagine her loved ones surprised when she disappears one night from bed - never to be seen again. The strangest part was that all her belongings had been taken, all the photos with her present disappeared, and all her social medias were deleted. Perhaps most peculiar was the only substantial evidence found by investigators was wet sand found at the foot of her bed.”

           “Try as they investigators could find nothing that could tell them what had happened to YN. Then a year later tragedy struck once more when on the anniversary of YN’s disappearance, YLN Minsuh – her older sister - took her and her mother’s life in a murder suicide. YN’s father who was present that night managed to survive. Many people took this to be an admission of guilt on the sister’s part, for the two had never had the best relationship. Though with no note, the case had no choice to remain open. Thankfully for a miracle would occur. Almost three years to the day, YN has returned to the exact spot of her disappearance. Residents and audiences nationally are overjoyed, and hope justice can now be served. Stay tuned as this tragic twisted tale continues to unfold. We’ll now switch back over to Bo for sports.”

           A piercing wail left YN’s mouth as she collapsed to the floor. Immediately, she was scooped off the ground into a warm embrace. “Jin?” She cried, but when she met the eyes of her savior the round hazel she was expecting was instead met with sharp feline ones. "Yoongi?!"

Tag List:

@saxpam24 

@cherriejams @electr1c-angel @uppiespuppy @illnevertrustmyselfagain

@dionysus-png @sugashaye​ @purpuravm​

I need to tell you that you’ve managed to become one of my favorite twst writers in the span of a single evening. I spent the majority of last night reading all of your twst content. As a monster lover, I feel obligated to say thank you for all of the food. There is a fair amount of monster f*cker content in the twst fandom, but most blogs only have a small handful of monster stories. So when I saw the amount of monster content on your blog, I almost wept.

If you’re still taking requests from the monster prompt, how about 21 “Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you" with the Mer-trio?

(Wow... I did not realize people considered any of my content to be monster-fucker food. Anyways you wrote Mo21 in your request but the prompt you typed was for Mo20 so I did that one. Hopefully you still like it!) 20. “Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you” (Yandere! Octavinelle Trio x Fem! S/o)

Stormy nights were (Y/n)’s favorite kind of nights, nothing beat being wrapped up in a warm blanket, looking out her window at the rain falling and the occasional flashes of lightning that lit up the skies. The only thing that could even begin to compare to the wonder of stormy nights were the mornings that followed them, when the earth was still wet from the rain and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. 

You were sure to find something interesting outside after a storm. However, what (Y/n) found in her pool that following morning more than exceeded her expectations of something interesting. The winds from the storm had dropped debris into her pool making it look more like a sliver of ocean than part of suburbia. She began clearing the tree branches and other chunks of flora when something in the water grabbed her leg. A less brave soul would have called an exterminator or animal control at this point but (Y/n) did not, instead she retreated inside for the time being to start thinking up a plan of action. It wasn’t until night had fallen that she approached the pool again this time armed with a broom and a bag of fish she’d bought at the store the day of the storm. She tentatively poked the water with the broom and nothing happened. Then suddenly a webbed hand darted out of the water and yanked on the broom making (Y/n) drop the fish she was holding into the water as she tumbled into the pool with a gasp. As she sank under the surface she locked eyes with something that flashed her a toothy grin before it grabbed her and swam to the surface with her in its clutches. As she broke the surface of the water she was able to see there were at least two things in the water with her.

“Nee Jade the fish the human brought with her taste awful” the thing not holding (Y/n) said with a whine as it bit off the head of one a fish and swallowed it whole without chewing any further. The girl looked frantically between the two creatures trying to make sure she wasn’t just seeing double in the darkness. Nope, there really were two of them yet they looked eerily similar like twins. “Ehhh Floyd, if they taste so bad why are you still eating them?” the thing holding (Y/n) answered with a tilt of its head as its ear fins twitched with curiosity. The girl had to assume that Jade and Floyd must be the creatures’ names, not yet processing the information that there were literal talking fish-people in her pool. That knowledge would take a few more moments to sink in, at which point (Y/n) let out another gasp.   

“You?! You can talk?!” (Y/n) said her words spluttering out like water out of a clogged faucet. Her sudden words drew a laugh from both mermen and Floyd swam closer as he took another big bite of the fish he’d been chewing on. “Of course we talk shrimpy, what did you expect silly?” he said with a toothy grin even wider than the one Jade had given her when she’d been sinking down to the bottom of the pool. “Give her a little credit, Azul did give her quite a scare earlier when she was trying to remove the gunk and almost forced him out of hiding. I don’t think intelligent life was exactly what she was expecting to find after that” Jade said, his tone a mix of condescension and comforting as he hugged (Y/n) closer to his body. The girl’s mind was ready to short-circuit as a third voice joined the conversation. “I only did that so she’d stop digging around while other humans might be around to get involved” this third voice, the aforementioned Azul she guessed, said with only its head poking out of the water and no visible ear fins to be seen. However when (Y/n) looked down she could see masses of tentacles below Azul as well as the long eel-like tails that made up the bottom halves of both Floyd and Jade’s bodies. “I don’t feel so good” (Y/n) mumbled right before blacking out and going limp in Jade’s arms. When she came too she was lying on her side out of the pool with an eel-merman staring at her impatiently. It took her a moment to identify which one it was by which side his black hair streak fell and she finally said “Floyd?” to which the eel-mer grinned and nodded his head at her as she sat up. “Yep that's me Shrimpy, you gave us all a real scare by passing out like that” Floyd said his tone playfully accusing as (Y/n)’s eyes darted down to check if she’d really seen what she thought she’d seen. Yup, the young man still had an eel tail instead of legs and she hadn’t just imagined all of it. “Heeey my eyes are up here Shrimpy” Floyd said with a pout grabbing (Y/n)’s chin and forcing her to make eye-contact with him. “Sorry! I’m still getting used to the whole, merfolk are real, thing. I just wanted to see if you really did have a tail or not” (Y/n) said not liking the way Floyd’s nails pressed her skin making it clear he could crush her jaw like a grape if he put any pressure on his grip. Luckily her words brought a laugh from the eel-merman and he released her jaw before hauling himself up out of the water to sit next to her. “Wanna feel?” Floyd said, gesturing to himself with a grin. Tentatively (Y/n) nodded as she reached over and gently ran a finger down his tail. “Aww Shrimpy I barely felt that, do it again and put a little more elbow grease into it” the eel-mer said with a whine as he grabbed the girl’s wrist and placed her hand flat against his body. Obediently (Y/n) ran her hand down the male’s skin feeling the slightly slimy yet smooth quality of his tail under her fingertips. “You two look like you’re getting along nicely” Azul commented, swimming over to the pair and surprising (Y/n) out of the stupor she’d fallen under from petting the eel-mer so she almost tumbled back into the pool. The girl only just barely kept her balance this time to the amusement of both mermen. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you…” Azul trailed off, waiting for the young woman to provide her name. “(Y/n), I’m (Y/n)” (Y/n) said quickly. “I know this is an insensitive question but how’d you end up in my pool? I mean I’ve had a few crocodiles thrown in my pool by a particularly bad storm once or twice. That's what I thought I was dealing with before when I brought the fish. Just a few crocodiles, not three mermen and… I’m rambling sorry… This is just weird as hell for me” the girl said looking sheepishly off to the side. “Don’t worry this is an odd situation for us as well” Jade said having swum back over to the group partway through (Y/n)’s rant. “We’re not in the habit of showing up in random human pools, somebody just made a mistake with his potion mixing and accidentally summoned a tsunami that dropped us off here” the eel-mermaid added giving Azul a bit of side-eye, to which the octo-mer grumbled under his breath and pouted. “Regardless we’re kind of stuck here unless we can get the ingredients to make another potion to take us home or we get some outside help to transport us back to the beach and to the ocean” Jade said giving (Y/n) a meaningful look. The girl’s face scrunched up in thought, she didn't know these young men very well and she wasn’t sure she could trust them as far as she could throw them (which wouldn't be far). However, her sense of morality overcame her fear of strangers and she let out a reluctant sigh before speaking. “I’ll help you get back to the sea, I have a car but I don't know if you’ll all fit in it comfortably” (Y/n) said slowly, hoping that her offer might be turned down but that was wishful thinking. The mermen were all more than willing to risk the discomfort of being in her car in exchange for getting home faster. Somehow (Y/n) managed to get all of them into her car (though Floyd was purposely wriggly as a fish on a hook as she tried to set him on the backseat of her car) and began driving out of her quiet neighborhood towards the nearest patch of ocean. During the drive Azul told her about their underwater home, with the occasional comment from the twins, and she had to admit it sounded nice living in the Coral Sea. Eventually, she found a quiet spot of sand by the sea and parked the car before helping the boys out and back into the water. Floyd and Jade went easily enough but Azul seemed to need more help and (Y/n) found herself in waist-deep water before she knew what was happening. All of a sudden the octo-mer’s tentacles were laced around her legs and she was being dragged under as Azul shot forward into deeper water where the eels waited. “Sorry about this Angelfish. I would have preferred that you came to us of your own free will but we just couldn't wait anymore” Azul said, keeping a firm grip on (Y/n) with his tentacles as he swam towards Floyd and Jade who both grinned upon seeing that the octo-mer had been successful in grabbing the girl. Instinctively (Y/n) had tried to hold her breath when she was pulled under only to pass out from oxygen deprivation and wake up breathing water. “What do you think of your new gills? Pretty nice aren’t they?” Azul crooned, his tentacles still wrapped around (Y/n)’s body and tightening when she tried to struggle free of his hold. “Ah, ah, aw Angelfish there’s no need to fight I’m not gonna hurt you” the octopus-merman said in a gently scolding tone before raising his voice to alert the eels that (Y/n) had finally woken up. “Shrimpy’s gills are so cute! I almost wanna pull them and see if she screams” Floyd said excitedly pinching one of the delicate, lacey gill slits that now occupied (Y/n)’s neck. The girl let out a yelp of pain which brought out a laugh from the cruel eel-mer. “Now, now Floyd we can’t go pulling (Y/n)’s gills willy-nilly. Not unless she misbehaves that is” Jade commented running a finger along the other side of the girl’s neck feeling her gills for himself. “We’ve all had our eye on you for a while now Angelfish” Azul said bringing (Y/n)’s attention back on him again as he leaned in to kiss her softly. The feeling of the tweels’ hands over her gills ready to choke her, was the only thing that kept (Y/n) from fighting the kiss from the octo-mer. “The human world… it's just too harsh a place for a sweetheart like you. Taking you away from the human world was the only way to save you” Azul added after a moment. “Plus the fact you’re really cute” Floyd added before smashing his mouth against (Y/n) and biting her lips as he kissed her hungrily. The girl whimpered into his mouth but her protests were all muffled by his tongue against hers until he finally pulled away grinning. “You probably won't see things our way at first but you will” Jade commented before he went in for a kiss softer than his twin’s but still rougher than the octopus’s. “After all we’ll have all the time in the world to change your mind…” THE END

Harpy Model

M harpy X GN human, 6,762 words.

This story is based on this post that I was tagged in by the lovely and talented @p-gretz. Thanks for the inspiration!

You fumbled with the camera equipment in your hands. The tripod kept trying to escape under your elbow, but shifting to secure it would mean losing the lens cap, and grabbing for that jeopardized the magnifier you had balanced against your collarbone. If people stopped dumping things on you at every given opportunity, you probably would have been alright, but being the lowest member on the totem pole meant your status was barely better than a self-propelled table.

The tripod slipped another inch down and you automatically grabbed at it. The sudden movement unbalanced the camera in the center of the pile. With a clatter of plastic, it slipped free, tumbling toward the ground.

A feathered hand snagged the camera strap, jerking it to a halt seconds before it struck the ground. “Need some help?” a slightly accented male voice asked.

“Thanks, but I got it,” you said. A total lie. You could not have had it less if you’d tried.

“Nonsense. At least let me take something so you can get better situated.” Before you could protest again, he had removed several of the objects, tucking them into his feathered arms.

Without the constant danger of dropping something if you so much as twitched, you were able to shift the pile in your arms into a better position. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I-”

You froze. It felt embarrassingly out of character for you to look at someone and freeze, but his face made something in your chest do backflips.

He was elegantly made up, with touches lengthening his lashes and emphasizing his cheekbones. His hair was pale and curling in little waves around his ears. Delicate feathers sprouted around his neck, trailing down toward his arms. They were pale white, with touches of pink. His tail was easily the most striking part of him. Long, green feathers made a train behind him that brushed the floor and gave him the impression of a trailing cloak. He stood delicately on bird-like talons, poised like a dancer.

Fortunately, your freeze only lasted a couple of seconds, and you disguised it by pretending to drop and recover one of your many items. “Sorry. I’m trying to go to studio, um. A12, so I’ll just be heading over there-”

The man laughed. It was more gentle than mocking, but you felt your stomach shrivel in embarrassment regardless. “Really? Then you’re heading in the wrong direction. I’m headed in the same direction. I can walk you there.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother you,” you said.

“It’s not a bother. You seem like you could use the help.” You blushed furiously, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He shifted the camera he’d taken from you into a more comfortable position in his arm. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Yeah. I’m, um. The new intern, basically. You’ve been here for a while?”

“I work with a few different photography places as a model. But I’ve had a contract here for some time.” He flicked his tail casually. “If you need help, I can show you around a little bit when we’re done. This place can be a real maze until you get used to it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose on you like that. I mean, you’re probably really busy and I don’t want to take up any of your valuable time-”

The harpy laughed. “My time is hardly the most valuable time here. And, if we’re being really honest…” He leaned in close to your ear. His feathers tickled as he put a hand up to his mouth. “I don’t mind making some of the people around here wait. They’re all really stuck up.” He leaned back and dropped you a glittery wink before strolling on ahead. “Come with me! It’s this way.”

You hurried after him. He had a particularly flowing, graceful way of moving. It wasn’t hard to believe he was a model- even if you hadn’t met him in the studio, you would have guessed it. He moved like he was always on a catwalk.

The studio was particularly maze-like. There were multiple winding halls with several doors each. Only a few small signs gave any sign of where anything was, and casual racks of clothes strewn around the hallway blocked more than half of them. The harpy, however, strode through the halls with a practiced ease.

After several turns, you finally came across a door marked Studio A12. The harpy pushed the door open and paused to let you through before stepping in himself.

“Revali! You’re late!” An impatient-looking woman glared across the room at him. You froze automatically, but he just put down the equipment he’d been carrying on a nearby table and gave you a wink.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he said. You turned away from him as your supervisor approached you.

“You’re late too,” he said.

“Sorry. I kind of got lost.”

“I know it’s your first week here, so I’m not going to scold you for this, but being on time is important here. At least for the photographers.” He cast a disparaging look at Revali who was chatting cheerfully with the stern-looking woman. “Models get more leeway.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” you said. “I thought a lot of models here were kind of stuck up.”

“He’s not stuck up,” your supervisor agreed. “He’s got the opposite problem. He doesn’t take anything seriously. One of those types who float through life on nothing but their good looks.”

The photoshoot started right after he spoke and you were immediately swept up in the business of it all. Your job was essentially doing whatever anyone needed of you, and they needed a lot. You spent most of the time scrambling around, fixing lights, grabbing accessories, fetching camera equipment, and being a general gopher. The photoshoot lasted only an hour and a half, but you were exhausted by the time it was over.

You sagged by the door, waiting for your next task to be assigned. Revali was having some sort of conversation with his manager that seemed to be verging on an argument, at least on her end. Revali looked as casual as ever.

His manager said something stabbing a finger in his face. He didn’t even flinch. He just lifted one of his shoulders in a slight shrug and, with a flick of his tail, strolled away.

“Ready for the tour?” he asked as he walked over to you. He had a particular way of walking, like he was constantly on a catwalk. It really was more of a strut than a casual walk.

“I already said you don’t have to. And, um, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” You made a subtle head motion toward his managers, who was alternating between looking at her phone screen and glaring at him.

Revali tossed his head. “She’s not my mother. She doesn’t control me. I do what I like. And right now, I’d like to take you on a tour of the studio. Why don’t you come with me?”

You glanced back at his manager. Revali shifted in front of you, blocking her from your sight. “All right,” you said. “But it can’t take too long. I’ve still got other responsibilities to take care of.”

Revali nodded and gestured for you to follow him out the door. “Like I said, this whole place is kind of a maze. I swear, they designed every section to look as similar as possible. But, you can figure out where all the studios are because it’s broken into sections. The stairwells are always marked with the sections. Even numbers are always to the right when you get off the stairwells and odd numbers to the left. Here, I’ll show you how to get to a couple of the bigger studios-”

Revali was right- the entire place seemed to have been designed like a weird, spiraling maze. You ended up needing to take notes on everything he told you. When you finally came to a stop, you were almost dizzy from all the turns you’d needed to make.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around. “I haven’t been in this part of the building before.” It was almost indistinguishable from the other parts of the building, with eh same florescent lights and powder blue walls, but there were larger signs next to every door and they were spaced closer together.

“Yes, you probably haven’t needed to come down here yet.” Revali opened one of the doors and stepped inside. It was a small room with a large mirror taking up most of one wall, a couch, a minifridge, and a few racks of fancy-looking clothes. “They’re the model rooms. Those of us who have long-term contracts here get our own little spaces when we’re not working.” He strode across the room and sprawled on his couch.

You stood in the doorway. One of the models taking an interest in you and then inviting you back to his personal room? It was hard to keep your imagination from going places. “Hey, uh. I don’t want to be rude, but if you invited me back here for some, uh, fun, I’m not really into casual flings, so-”

Revali shrugged. “Whether or not we have sex is entirely up to you. I’ve had a couple flings in here. Honestly, they didn’t do much for me.”

If he had been attempting to make you more comfortable, it had backfired. Great. Now you didn’t want to sit down anywhere. You remained in the doorway. “Why did you bring me here, then?”

Revali shrugged. “You seemed overwhelmed,” he said. “And it’s much quieter down here.” There was a series of thumps and cursing on the other side of the wall. Revali glared at it. “Mostly, anyway.”

You plucked up your courage and settled on the couch next to him. He grinned. “Also, it’s lunch time and I like eating with other people. I make way too much food all the time.”

Revali grabbed a few Tupperware containers out of his minifridge and lay them out on the table next to you. Most of them appeared to be some sort of meat covered in a thick sauce. Revali was looking at you eagerly, so you took the fork he was offering and took a bite.

“Oh!” you said. “It’s good!”

“Yeah?” Revali said. “I cook when I’m stressed, so I always have more food than I need.” You took a few more bites, enjoying the richness and spiciness of the sauce over the umami of the meat. Revali leaned back, watching you eat with a strange amount of intensity.

“Um. Are you going to have some?” you asked, gesturing to the food. Revali made a face.

“Can’t. I have my own lunch here.” He pulled out an uninspired-looking salad with a few strips of grilled chicken on top.

“You make food, but then you don’t eat it?” you asked. Revali shrugged.

“The life of a model. I do need to keep in shape,” he said. “But I’m always cooking, so you can come over any time you want. I’ll give you a free lunch.”

“You could try at least one bite,” you said. You lifted a piece of meat on your fork and held it out to him. Revali lifted a brow. “Come on. You made all this. I’ll feel bad if I’m the only one who gets to eat it.”

Revali’s brow lifted a little higher. “Well, if you’ll feel bad, I suppose I have no choice but to spare your feelings.” You had intended for him to take the fork from you, but instead, he leaned forward and picked the chunk of meat off the fork with his teeth. He sprawled back and chewed, eyes closing. “Mm. It is good.”

You glanced around the room. It was slightly messy, with clothes and makeup strewn all over the place. Nothing was dirty, but it was a little cluttered. “How did you get into modeling, anyway?”

Revali opened his eyes and pushed himself more upright. “It was a few years ago. Just started doing a few local things, then I got scouted by my current agency. It’s not the most fun, really, but it’s pretty good money. Better than flipping burgers at a fast food restaurant, at least.” He shrugged. “Never finished college, so my job prospects are pretty limited.” He eyed you. “What about you?”

“I finished college a month or so ago. Studied photography. I’m hoping that this internship will lead to an actual job in the future, because right now I’m kind of living off my savings.” You gave a weak chuckle. “I kind of wanted to do my own photography thing, but, you know. Better to have a stable job.”

“Don’t I know it. I’d love to do some more interesting projects, but these ones pay well, which is what my manager likes.” Revali checked his phone and grimaced. “I’m going to have to head to my next shoot in a few minutes. You can hang out here if you like. Just put stuff back when you’re done with it.”

“I should probably be getting back now anyway,” you said, standing up. “Thank you for the lunch, though. You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you. Come back any time. Like I said, I’ve always got food. Actually, let me walk you back to the photo area. Just to make sure you get there all right.” Revali held the door open for you as you stepped into the hall.

“I’m not that hopeless,” you said, starting to head down the hallway. Revali snickered and you stopped. “What?”

“You sure?” he said. “Because, uh, you are going the complete wrong direction.”

“Oh,” you said. “I. Um. That’s embarrassing.”

“You’ll get used to it. Eventually. Here, I’ll show you the way.” Revali linked his arm through yours. “This all right?”

“Sure,” you said. “Thank you. Again.”

“No problem at all! Now, we should probably hurry, so I don’t get yelled at twice in one day. My manager would blow a blood vessel.” Revali headed off at a rapid trot, forcing you to jog to keep up.

Meeting him for lunch became a regular practice after that. He usually had something new and interesting for you to try, and he seemed to enjoy your company. Every day, you would slip out of work and head down to his dressing room for at least half an hour. A few times, you lost track of the time and had to sprint to make it back to your next shoot.

“They’re really putting you through the ringer, huh?” Revali said as you collapsed on his couch. He was wearing the sparkliest blue jacket you’d ever seen. Whether it was actually for a shoot or not was up in the air- Revali was the sort of person who would wear it out and about.

“It’s all right. I wish I was allowed to do more than just menial labor, though. I knew I was going to get the tasks people didn’t like when I started, but I wish I had more learning experiences. I feel like I’ve barely held a camera for something other than handing it to someone.”

Revali stretched his arms over his head, wings twitching. It was always interesting to watch the way they moved. They were a combination of wings and arms, with feathers sprouting all along his arms and the wing tip and hands separating at the wrists. Whenever he wore long sleeves, he needed to cut slits for the feathers and tied the ends closed around his wrists. They were usually tied closed with some sort of bangle, so he nearly always jingled when he moved his arms. “That’s a bummer. Have you been able to take any photos at all recently?”

“Nah. I’ve been too busy. When I get home from work, all I want to do is collapse. And I’ve been having trouble getting inspiration. I’ve been trying to get out more and do some shoots in nature, because it’s a lot nicer than the manufactured settings we have here, but I’ve been having trouble finding a model.”

Revali sat up straighter. “Having trouble finding a model, hm? Well, isn’t is just so fortunate that I happen to have some skills in that particular department?”

“Are you sure? I can’t really pay you much. That’s part of the reason I’ve been having trouble getting some models. When your job isn’t paying you anything, you can’t afford to hire someone for an afternoon. And I’m just not connected enough to find someone willing to do it for free.”

“I think we can help each other out,” Revali said. “I do actually need some new photos for my portfolio, and I think it would be nice to have a more natural setting. Let me use the photos and I’ll do it for free.”

“You’d be willing to do that? And you’re not too busy? I know you’ve kind of been running ragged for the past few days,” you said.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Like I said, it gives us both something we want.” He whipped a phone out of his pocket and started tapping on the screen. “Let’s see. I’m free Saturday afternoon, if that works for you?” You nodded. “Wonderful. Text me your address, I’ll stop by and you can take me wherever you want.”

Your phone timer dinged and you jumped to your feet. “Oh, shoot, I need to get going. Um, I guess I’ll see you then? And thank you!”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Just go.” He waved a hand at you. “I’d hate to see you get yelled at on my behalf.”

You scrambled out the door, waving goodbye to him once more before heading down the hall.

Waiting for Saturday became the highlight of your week. You deliberated over the best location, eventually picking a slightly secluded, riverside area. Revali had agreed to bring some of his own outfits, which he had allowed you to approve. They were simpler than the outfits he usually wore to work, with more natural colors, but he still looked good in them.

You spent a lot of time fussing with your cameras on the day of the shoot. It would be terribly embarrassing for Revali to show up and see you unprepared.

The knock on your door was startling. You carefully placed your camera on your table and hurried to answer it.

Revali was leaning against the doorway. “Hello, darling. Ready to go?”

He was wearing some fancy-looking gold and silver makeup and he’d done something to plump up his tail. It was long and fancy typically, but he’d added long lines of beads and fluff to his tail, making it look even more striking than usual.

“Wow,” you said. You were suddenly overly conscious about how messy your hair was and the fact that you’d just kind of thrown on the first clothes you’d laid your eyes on in the morning. Would it be weird if you made an excuse to go change? “Uh. Do you want to come in for a minute? I just, uh, need to finish something up.”

Revali stepped into your house. “Nice place,” he said, glancing around. You snorted.

“Please. I’m renting a house in the middle of nowhere that has, like, three rooms. Uh, make yourself comfortable. I just need to, um. Grab a jacket.”

“It’s nicely decorated, though. You have a good aesthetic sense.” Most of the stuff you had was from second-hand stores, but it did all sort of go together in a sort of farmhouse-chic way.

You hurried into your room and swapped your old sweatshirt out for a nicer shirt and one of your nicer jackets. The pants were staying, they were good enough. You hurried back out into the kitchen. Revali was examining a few of the photos that adorned your walls.

“You take these?” he asked. They were mostly nature shots, images of animals or flowers up close or landscape shots of rolling fields or mountains.

“Yeah. Most of them were for class. I just hung up the best ones,” you said.

“They’re nice. I like them. Do you like taking picture of nature better? Than of people, I mean.”

“Um. I mean. They’re both nice, just in different ways. There’s something really meditative about taking pictures of nature. It’s peaceful. Working with people can be harder, but it’s also kind of rewarding? Like, taking photos for a wedding is really nice. You get to capture a really great moment in someone’s life and then, when they look back at it, you help them remember the good moments. I like being able to do that for people.”

Revali looked at you. His eyes were bright, assessing. “Why do you work for the studio? It’s not any of those things you said, peaceful or rewarding. It’s mostly just stressful.”

“It makes money,” you said as you headed for the door. “Why do you work for the agency?”

There was a pause, long enough for you to get in the car. “Because it makes good money,” Revali finally said. “And it also means I get my face out there. I like being well known, you know.”

“I can’t imagine wanting that. I like being behind the scenes way more.”

Revali settled back in the seat and watched the fields roll by. “Where are we headed?”

“Um, there’s this nice little riverside area in a stand of trees. I thought it might make for some pretty photos.” You glanced at him uncertainly. “I hope that’s okay with you. I know you said you’d be okay with a nature shoot, but hope you’re not going to be too upset with a little dirt. I’ll try to keep you out of it, but-”

Revali burst into peals of laughter. You twisted your head to stare at him before realizing that you should probably keep your eyes on the road. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t laugh! It just struck me as very funny, but you had no way of knowing, of course.” Revali wiped a stray tear away. “Do you know where I grew up?”

“No,” you said. He hadn’t told you, had he? Revali seemed unoffended. He ran a hand through his hair, which somehow still looked artfully tousled. You were temporarily distracted by the way little tufts curled loosely around his ears. Hurriedly, you turned your gaze back to the road.

“I grew up on a farm,” he said. He fluttered his feathers. “I’m a cockerel harpy- I’ve got my fancy show feathers, but I’m not exactly a bird of paradise. It’s a family thing. I grew up working in the dirt and mud, and whenever I go home, I’m expected to do it again.”

“I never would have guessed,” you said honestly. He had the soft looks of someone who had never worked hard labor, but when you looked him over again, you could see how his smooth muscles might have come from farm work. “Your family didn’t mind, then, you going to be a model?”

“You think I have some sob story about running away from my strict farm father to pursue my dreams of being in the spotlight?” Revali smirked at you. “No. My father was disappointed, I think. He did want me to carry on the tradition. But I’ve got two younger sister who are much more invested in the farm life, so he didn’t have any fears about passing everything on and both my parents are the ‘follow your dreams’ sort, so they probably would have let me go anyway. I’m not sure they understand what I see in modeling, but they support me nonetheless.”

It was a short drive to the little grove. You parked out of the way and gathered your camera equipment while Revali looked around the area. “It’s pretty,” he said, inspecting a spray of yellow flowers. “You have a good eye.”

“Thanks.” You carefully placed the tripod. “Okay, first things first. I want to get some full-body portraits first, then we can move on to the up-close stuff.”

Revali was easy to work with, easier than you would have guessed from the number of arguments he got into with his manager. He posed gracefully, responded to your every critique thoughtfully and carefully, and even put up with your artistic considerations with far more patience than you would have expected. Even when you spent several minutes forcing him to hold a pose while you got the angle just right, he didn’t complain.

About two hours after you had started, you called a break. Revali shrugged his artfully-held jacket back on and lounged against a tree. “Can I see some of the photos?” he asked.

You considered for a moment, then handed the camera over with the same care you would with a baby. Probably more, really. “Just don’t break anything, all right?”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Revali said. “I’ve only ever dropped two cameras. And one of them survived with only minimal damage!” You stared at him in wide-eyed horror. “I’m kidding! I’ll be very careful.”

He clicked through the camera’s photo roll. You sat nearby, leg jittering nervously. His expression was inscrutable.

“These are nice,” he said after a few moments. “I mean, they’re quite good. Better than a lot of the shoots I’ve been to recently. I like the shadow and light here.” He tapped at the photo on screen. You leaned over to see which one he was talking about. It was one of the close-ups, where Revali was staring up through the trees. The sunlight dappled leaf shadows across his face and picked up the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

“It’s just a photo of your face,” you said, a little embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, it’s hard to make you look bad.”

“Oh, you’re being too modest. A poor picture can make anyone look bad and my lovely face can only do so much. You’re the one who set up the shot and was all clever with the lighting and whatnot.” Revali gave a little wave of his hand. “Honestly, it’s better than a few of my modeling pictures. And you’re much better at giving direction than most of the people at the studio. I swear, the number of times I just get told to look pouty at the camera is ridiculous. Or ridiculously esoteric shit. ‘Think about your best friend returning after a long time away’ my ass. Just tell me exactly what to do with my face and I’ll do it.” He stopped and gave you a slightly embarrassed look. “Not to make this about me, of course. But yes, you are quite good. It’s a shame you don’t get more projects.”

You shrugged. “I’d like to do more independent stuff. But I just don’t have any connections and I’ve been having a hard time getting gigs and, well, it’s just hard when you’re getting started.”

Revali tilted his head to one side. “Things will get better,” he said. You huffed out a sigh.

“I hope so. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t get to do something interesting in my actual job soon.” You fiddled with a few of the camera settings again. “Ready?”

“Certainly.” The photoshoot commenced once more. Revali seemed to be putting his all into the shoot, which you appreciated. He probably could have slipped by with just posing halfheartedly, but he was really putting effort forward.

You spent longer on a photoshoot than you had expected. Revali was nice to work with, cracking little jokes at every opportunity and being patient with any technical mishaps. The sun had started to sink toward the horizon by the time you were done.

“Sorry that took so long,” you said. “I didn’t mean to take up your weekend.”

“I’m really fine.” Revali flicked his tail, combing his fingers through the long feathers. “You apologize a lot, don’t you?”

“I just don’t want to come across as rude,” you said. Revali laughed.

“That’s one thing you certainly don’t do,” he said. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Still,” you said as the pair of you headed back toward his car, “why don’t I buy you dinner? It’s the least I can do.”

Revali looked down at you. His dark eyes glittered with interest. “If you’re offering, then I’ll certainly take you up on it.”

It took some driving around, but you eventually settled on a small café fairly close to Revali’s townhouse. He selected some sort of salad and you picked out a sandwich. Revali was right, the place was quite good. “I’ve never been here before,” you said. “I guess I haven’t been eating out for lunch as much, though.”

“I’m pleased my cooking is so good to you,” Revali said. He picked at his salad, moving the leaves around more than he was eating them. A knot started to form in your stomach.

“Hey.” Revali looked up. Your tone must have been strange because his expression became serious. “Um. You don’t, um. Eat much.”

Revali lowered his fork. “Ah. I did notice you staring during meals, but I suppose I was trying to flatter myself, thinking it was entirely my good looks.”

You felt hot. “I’m sorry, I know it might be rude to bring it up. But I’m just a little worried. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Hm,” Revali muttered. He put down his fork and shifted in his seat. His feathers rustled and ruffled. “I did have some trouble with eating well when I was younger. It never developed into a full-blown disorder, but I have always had a bit of an issue with maintaining my looks. I suppose my current representation isn’t helping with this issue.”

“Your manager?” you guessed. Revali gave a tight-lipped smile.

“Yes. I gained a pound the other week and got a bit of a lecture for it. Apparently, thin men are in right now. Harpies are usually fine boned and slender and all that, but I suppose it’s not quite enough for her.” A swell of anxiety crested behind his words.

You fiddled with a toothpick. “Can you get new representation?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. She is the only available representative for the company I have a contract with right now. And even if I could switch, I don’t have any guarantee that the next manager would be any better. Extreme dieting is not exactly uncommon in the modeling industry.” He sighed, picking up his fork and poking at the salad a few times before spearing a large bite and shoving it into his mouth. “The contract actually expires in a couple weeks,” he said, swallowing the bite. “She’s not happy about it. She really wants me to sign on again, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“What’ll you do if you don’t sign on again? Try to go somewhere else?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been modeling for a few years now. I’m not sure what else to do. But I’ll admit, I don’t love the culture. It’s not great for my mental health, in all honesty. I just don’t know what else to do.”

He looked so despondent that you couldn’t help but reach across the table and take his hand. He stared at your fingers for a moment before lifting his gaze to yours. “I’m sure whatever you chose will be the right thing,” you said. “I think, if your modeling career is bad for your mental health, then you can quit. You’re more than just a pretty face, you know? You know more about photoshoots than you think you do. You’ve got a good sense for lighting and you’ve even got a better idea of colors than I do. And you’ve got a really great fashion sense. I think there’s a lot you could do.”

Revali blinked at you for a moment, then his face broke into a breathtaking smile. A blush stole across your face, blazing in your cheeks. He looked unbearably beautiful. It wasn’t just the features of his face, though they were all very good. It was the clear and genuine delight that the smile conveyed. “I don’t think I’ve had someone compliment me so sweetly in a long time! At least, not on something other than my looks.”

“Not to mention, you’re a kick-ass cook,” you added. Revali laughed and took a sip of his water. You weren’t sure, because he had quite a bit of makeup on, but you though you could see a hint of pink tinging his cheeks.

“If I’m looking for a less stressful job than modeling, I don’t think being a chef is a good choice. And I’m not quite good enough to be in the industry. But it is nice to have my skills complimented.” He took another sip. “But thank you. Being a model can make it so your looks are the most important part of your life. It’s good to be reminded they’re not the most important thing about me.”

You shrugged. “Hey, I’m not much in the looks department, so I’m pretty good at looking past that.”

“Now, now, don’t be modest. You’re quite cute yourself,” Revali said, dropping a glittery wink. You felt yourself flushing again.

After dinner, you returned home and bid Revali a farewell. You spent the evening examining the photos you’d taken. Most of them were quite good. At the very least, they would make good photos for your portfolio. You considered them for a few moments, then pulled up the bare bones of your website and started uploading the photos.

The next day, you joined Revali for lunch again. He was wearing more than his usual makeup, but even so, you could see the slight puffiness around his eyes. “Tired?” you asked.

“Ughh. My manager and I got into a fight last night, after I got home. Things were said.” He massaged his forehead. “Tell me something good, darling, I need it.”

“Um,” you said. “I set up my website last night? Or I started setting it up, at least.”

Revali focused fully on you. “Your website?”

“Yeah. Um, I hope you don’t mind, I put some of the pictures we took up there. I want to see if I can start freelancing, at least in my free time.” Revali perked up. The tired look slid off his face.

“I don’t mind. I’m used to having my pictures all over the place. So, you’ve decided to start doing your own thing, now?” He leaned toward you.

“At least a little bit. The hardest part will be getting clients. Once I build up a little bit of a base, I can start getting people by word of mouth and stuff. But it’s difficult now.”

“I’d expect so,” Revali said, but he appeared to only be half paying attention. His gaze had become a little unfocused, like he was thinking about something else. “You know what, my next shoot’s in a few minutes. You can hang out here if you want. I’ll see you later.”

You met for lunch a few times in the next couple of weeks. Revali’s mood seemed to have improved. He was much more cheerful and, to your great relief, he seemed to be eating more.

It was almost exactly two weeks after you’d had your photoshoot when Revali sought you out at work. “I was going to come by for lunch,” you said. “Is something wrong?”

Revali seized your hands. “No. Things are great! I just told my manager to fuck off!” He proclaimed it loudly enough that several people in the vicinity turned toward him. You ignored them.

“That is great! I’m so glad for you,” you said.

“That’s not everything,” Revali said. “I have a surprise for you.” His tail twitched and flicked with excitement. “Follow me!”

Revali tugged you through the building, down to his dressing room. “Okay. Remember how you were talking about having trouble getting clientele?”

“Yeah,” you said cautiously.

“Well, I’ve been a model for a while. Which means I have some connections and some favors.” Revali opened the door and tugged you inside. “So, I thought I’d call some in!”

The room did not look different. You looked cautiously at Revali. “Uh. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“This!” Revali snatched a stack of papers off a table and thrust them at you. You flipped through them. “It’s the information of people who want to have photoshoots! There’s a couple of weddings, one person wants a pet thing, a couple of people want you to take photos for cosplays- I told them all that you were really good and you’re easy to work with and a bunch of people were willing to give it a shot.”

“You got me gigs?” There was a note of incredulity in your voice. “Like, paying gigs?”

“Yes! I told you, I have some contacts and some favors. I pulled a few strings.” Revali fluttered his wings.

“Thank you,” you said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“All the information you need is there. You can contact them all for more information, but it should have the basics.” Revali sprawled across his couch. “I figured that if I was going out, I might as well use my connections for good.”

“Going out?” you said, perching on the couch next to him.

“Yeah.” Revali rubbed at the back of his neck. “I told my manager to fuck off, remember? There’s a solid chance I’ll get blackballed for it, and even if I don’t, I don’t think I want to do this modeling thing anymore. It hasn’t been great for my mental health. And I’d like to be seen as more than just a pretty face.”

“You have plans?” you asked.

“No. I’ve got some money saved up. I figure I can afford to coast for a little bit. And if it really gets bad, I’m sure my dad would be happy to have me back on the farm.” He laughed, but you caught the slight downturn of his mouth. You ran your finger along the edge of the paper stack.

“If you’re interested, these are a lot of jobs. I think I could use a little bit of help,” you said. Revali blinked at you. “I can’t pay much, but it’ll be a little bit of money and if I start getting really good, I can hire you on full time. You’ve already shown you’ve got an eye for this stuff.”

“Really?” Revali said. He stared at you disbelievingly. “You’re willing to do that for me?”

“It would help me as much as it would help you. I mean, you’ve already been a huge help and you’re not even working for me yet. I think we’d make a good team.”

Revali looked enormously delighted. “Oh, thank you! You’re incredible!” With no warning, he ducked forward, his hands came up to the sides of your face, and he pressed his mouth to yours.

Your brain short-circuited temporarily. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind. Just a bunch of sensations. Mouth. On your mouth. Kissing. Revali was kissing you. Passionately. His hands were on your face. His feathers were tickling you. His breath was warm on your face.

He broke away from you before you could gain enough sense to kiss back. Revali grinned sheepishly. “Oh. That was sort of supposed to be the grand finale. We were supposed to go out for dinner first. I just got excited.”

You pulled your thoughts together. “You were going to ask me out?”

“I thought you deserved something for taking me out a while ago. And I’ve been thinking about asking you out for a while. But you looked so cute there and I was very grateful, and I just couldn’t help myself,” he said. “I hope you didn’t mind too much?”

“No,” you said. “I didn’t mind. At all.” Revali smiled. You were drawn to the curve of his mouth, the fullness of his upper lip. “But, maybe just to make sure, we should do it again?”

Revali’s smile got bigger. “You know, I was thinking that I’m not going to have this dressing room much longer. There are a lot of things we could do in here. Celebrate our moving on and all that.”

“Let’s start with kissing,” you said, “and we can see where it goes.”

Revali leaned closer to you. “Start with kissing. I can do that.”

Vacation

This is my entry for the @sandersidesbigbang! I had a lot of fun participating 🥰 Thanks to all the mods for organizing this! Also huge thanks to @just-a-pintrovert & @5-falsehoods-phonated for beta reading 💙 There is also some artwork also from @just-a-pintrovert here! They did a fantastic job and I highly recommend you check out her blog! And now, enjoy!

Here on Ao3

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Roman, Janus, Logan, Remus

Relationships: platonic Intrulogical, platonic Prinmoxiety, platonic Moceit

Rating: T

Words: 12,502

Summary:  Logan doesn't show up for breakfast one morning, leaving behind a letter declaring he's going on vacation. Unsure of its authenticity, Roman, Patton and Virgil go to look for him on Remus' side of the Imagination with a certain snake as their guide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started out like any other day. Patton entered the kitchen around 7 in the morning to prepare breakfast. Logan should join him soon, then Roman around an hour later and Virgil after that. When exactly was hard to say, the anxious side’s sleep schedule was the most inconsistent, but most of the time he was up last. Today Patton wanted to make an extra special breakfast since their discussion the day before had gotten a bit out of hand and nobody walked away from it happy. He just hoped all his kiddos would show up. 

Half an hour later that fear proves to be warranted. Logan still hasn’t come down. Patton had even checked the coffee machine to make sure he hadn’t missed him. But it was still as clean as he had left it yesterday. Nervously his eyes flicker from the stove to the clock and over to the stairs before he focuses on making breakfast again, but his eyes would stray every few seconds. 

Five minutes later he finally hears movement upstairs. Logan probably had been exhausted yesterday and stayed in bed a bit longer than usual. Someone was coming down the stairs now and Patton turns around with a big smile, expecting Logan but coming across Virgil instead. 

 

“Oh,” Patton says, his smile slipping. But he immediately catches the insecure look on Virgil’s face at his reaction. “Sorry, kiddo,” he laughs, trying his best to seem cheerful. “I thought you were Logan, but I’m happy to see you, too! It’s quite early for you though. Did you not sleep well?” Now that he takes a closer look, Patton can see the tiredness on Virgil’s face, who gives him a weak smile. 

 

“Morning, popstar. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured might as well get up, y’know?” He moves over to the coffee machine, looking at it confused for a few seconds before he seems to realize what else Patton had said. “Logan wasn’t here yet?” 

 

“I don’t think so,” Patton shakes his head, his eyes now fixed on the stove so that Virgil doesn’t see the concern across his face. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee, you know I’m no good at making some.” He tries to play it off as a joke with a laugh but even he knows it’s not convincing. Virgil hovers at the coffee machine, unsure of what to do, how to comfort Patton. Instead, he moves to make the coffee himself and trying to cheer the other up with words. 

 

“It’s fine, Pat. I can do it and I’m sure Lo’s gonna come down soon. We all had a lot to think about yesterday… Maybe he just needs some more time to think it through again this morning. But you know how he is, he’ll come down and act like it was nothing later. You’ll see.” At the end of his little ramble, the machine is in the process of brewing and Virgil gives Patton a short hug before moving to set the table. 

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Patton mumbles, more to himself than to Virgil and continues to work on breakfast. 

 

Around 20 minutes later, Roman arrives, a lot more energized than Virgil had been. “What a wondrous morrow! ‘Tis a day to sing and dance, I say!” Both Patton and Virgil chuckle at his boasting. 

 

“Good morning to you too, Roman,” Patton greets as he pulls him into a loose hug before going back to distribute their breakfast onto the plates Virgil had sat out. 

 

“I’m surprised to see you arrive before me, Doom-and-Gloom,” Roman says to Virgil while preparing his own mug of coffee. The other had taken seat on the counter after finishing his part of breakfast preparations and watched Patton work the rest of the time while slowly nursing his coffee (I say slowly but he is already working on his second mug). Virgil just shrugs. 

 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Roman hums in acknowledgment and then silence falls over the kitchen, only Patton scurrying around is heard. Not long however before Patton cheerfully announces: “Breakfast is ready!” 

 

“Wonderful!” Roman exclaims loudly. “What a marvelous feast you prepared for us, padre!” Patton giggles. 

 

“Thank you for the compliment, my prince.” 

 

“My, of course! What kind of ruler would I be if I couldn’t appreciate my subjects!” 

 

“A pretty standard one,” Virgil adds with a small smile. Roman huffs. 

 

“Only more proof that I am exceptional.” 

 

“That you are, Roman,” Patton laughs, but he sobers up suddenly, now looking worried again. 

 

“What’s wrong, padre? Tell me your worries and I shall strike them down with my sword!” Roman proclaims loudly in hopes of banning that expression from Patton’s face. The other gives him a small smile before looking over to the stairs. 

 

“Logan still hasn’t come down. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m worried,” he explains. Roman quickly looks towards the stairs as well, this is the first he’s heard of their nerd not arriving this morning. It wasn’t unusual for Logan to go back upstairs after having his first cup of coffee, opting to get a bit more work done before the rest of them get up. But not coming down at all was rare. A glance towards Virgil shows him that the anxious side is worrying his bottom lip, eyeshadow a bit darker than normal. Roman places both his hands on Patton’s shoulders in a reaffirming grip and smiles at him. 

 

“I’m sure our nerd just got lost in a book or something. I shall go fetch him at once.” 

 

“Thank you,” Patton says with a small smile that Roman returns before he heads back up the stairs. Logan’s room was the one furthest away from the common area. He’d always reasoned that he didn’t want any of the noise to travel to his door and Roman could see his point. Logan was the only one of them that stuck to a regulated sleep schedule and was often the first one to retire back upstairs. And sometimes Patton, Virgil and himself could forget to be quiet afterwards so choosing the longer distance was reasonable. Roman finally arrives at the door to the logical side’s room and was about to knock when something catches his eye. Rather it is hard to overlook. Taped to the door is a thin, dark blue folder that stands out against the light brown wood of the door. On the front ‘To Patton, Roman and Virgil’ is written. With furrowed brows, Roman pulls the folder off the door and opens it, scanning the first page before hurrying back downstairs. 

 

“Guys!” he calls out, halfway down the stairs, apparently interrupting a conversation between the left-behind sides. They don’t look bothered by it however but rather concerned at his sudden re-entrance without the side he was supposed to get. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Patton asks, voice rising in concern. Roman just hands them the folder. Virgil takes it since Patton seems to be shaking from the nerves and flips it open. The first page was a simple, printed letter that read: 

 

Good morning fellow sides. 

 

After the conclusion of yesterday’s discussion, I have decided to finally 

follow through with something I had planned for a while now: 

 

I am going on vacation. 

 

In the last few months, following Janus’ acceptance and further involvement 

in our daily lives, the tension in our group has been rising and I must say, 

it figuratively suffocates me. Any attempts to resolve said tension has been 

disapproved of and you continue to disregard my contributions to various 

problems. I cannot work in this environment any longer. I have finished  

Thomas’ schedule for the next two weeks. I did my best to consider your 

and Janus’ previously given advice to ensure that it covers selfcare and  

productivity. If you want to make changes, go ahead but do not complain 

to me if it does not work out as you hoped. I have done my part now. I am 

not sure when I will return but I should not be gone longer than those two 

weeks. Do not summon me unless it is a life-or-death situation. I have  

prepared a place to stay and I am being provided for. I will continue to keep  

an eye on Thomas regardless but I do not see any need to appear in person. 

 

I wish you a pleasant time, 

Logan Logic Sanders 

 

Silence hung over the three for a few moments. 

 

“You think he’s pranking us?” Patton finally askes. Roman hums in consideration but Virgil scoffs. 

 

“Since when is Logan a prankster?” He pulls out the other sheets of paper from the folder. “These are definitely from him; I doubt even Deceit could fake them so accurately.” Truly, the schedule was color-coded and formatted in a manner that was very familiar. Roman pulls the papers out of Virgil’s grasp. He quickly scans it and whistles appreciatively. 

 

“This really is his best one yet, I must say.” 

 

“Where do you think he went?” Patton askes, his gaze fixed on the stairs. “He wrote he’s being provided for but what does that even mean?” The other two could immediately tell how worried he was. They exchange a quick glance and Roman puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder. 

 

“Well, there aren’t many places he could be... Him staying here in the mindscape would defeat the purpose of going on vacation. He could have gone to the dark side but I doubt that, it felt like he’s avoiding Deceit as well and if he’s in the imagination, I should be able to tell but I can’t feel him there...”  

 

“Where did you find this anyway?” Virgil askes and holds up the folder. 

 

“It was taped to his door.” 

 

“So you didn’t actually check his room, right?” Roman brightens. 

 

“I did not! Great idea, Hot Topic. Let’s go!” He runs back upstairs. 

 

“How does he have so much energy in the morning?” Virgil groans but he follows after him, Patton in tow. When they arrive upstairs, Logan’s door is wide open and Roman could be heard humming inside. Virgil immediately pales. 

 

“Princey, what the fu-” He glances at Patton. “-frick are you doing?” he hisses, not crossing the threshold. Roman, who was currently going through the papers on Logan’s desk, shoots him a look. 

 

“Searching for clues, like you suggested.” 

 

“I never said that!” 

 

“You said to check his room!” 

 

“I meant knock to see if he’s in here, not waltz in and go through his stuff!” 

 

“Why are you whisper-hissing? Logan’s not here, I already checked his bathroom, closet and under the bed.” 

 

“Why would you-? Ugh, never mind,” Virgil groans and does cautiously enter the room, followed by Patton who looks around curiously. 

 

“I haven’t really been in here for ages!” he gasps. Virgil furrows his brows. 

 

“You go to his room all the time though?” 

 

“Yeah, sure, to check on him. He doesn’t really invite me in though and I don’t wanna pry...” He takes another look around, this time more apprehensively. “It feels kinda wrong to be in here. Without his permission, I mean.” 

 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Virgil exclaims, biting at a nail nervously. “C’mon, we verified he’s not here, let’s go.” 

 

“Verified? Boy, the nerd’s room’s already getting to you, huh?” Roman scoffs and lays back a few papers he doesn’t find interesting. “And we haven’t found any clues yet, leaving would be a waste.” 

 

“Roman, we are not here to snoop through Logan’s stuff. We just wanted to confirm that he is not here.” Patton scolds, both he and Virgil are already back by the door. Roman rolls his eyes. 

 

“Hold on, I’m almost done. How is it that I’m the one who’s been in here the longest but I’m the least affected by the room?” he mumbles a bit loudly to not be intentional while checking around the desk. 

 

“No, Sherlock Homeinvader, we’re leaving,” Virgil insists, presses the folder he was still holding on to in Patton’s hands and goes over to him to drag him back himself as Roman dramatically gasps. 

 

“What do we have here?” he asks even more dramatically and bends down, grabbing something out of what appears to be Logan’s trash can. Virgil nose wrinkles. 

 

“Disgusting, dude.” 

 

“Relax, it’s just a bunch of paper. Well, paper and this!” He holds up a container. A very familiar container. Pickled Poo Logs, Remus’ favored snack. Easily recognizable by his face at the top, though there are dicks doodled over the rest of the label. Virgil immediately snatches it out of his hand. 

 

“Remus was here?” Patton hesitantly comes over to take a look himself. “Maybe Logan was just curious about it? He gets like that sometimes, you know?” His nervous tone sabotages his attempt at lightening the mood, especially since he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. 

 

“With dicks drawn all over it? No, Nerdy Wolverine would have asked for a clean one,” Roman comments and turns the case over in his hands, inspecting it. 

 

“You think Remus kidnapped him?” Virgil asks, panicked. 

 

“Considering the folder, unlikely. Oh, there’s the room’s effect!” Roman hums, pleased. “No, it is unlikely that Logan left involuntarily but he may have been tricked. Remus is an idiot but he’s not totally stupid. And he kind of fixated on our braincell after his introductory video.”  

 

“What has Remus done now?” calls an exasperated voice from the door. All three of them spin around to see Janus leaning against the doorframe, inspecting his gloved fingers with a small smirk on his lips. Virgil growls at him immediately and Janus rolls his eyes in response. “Oh, yes, please do keep acting like a guard dog, Virgil, it is so becoming of you.” Before he could snap back, Patton lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He continues glaring but falls silent.

“Hello Janus, what brings you here?” Patton asks, trying to sound cheerful but even to Roman and Virgil it sounds forced. It doesn’t fool Janus for even a second.

“I went to the kitchen to make my morning cup of tea and no one else was there as usual so I decided to come up here for no reason at all.” His smirk stays however he seems to eye Patton very carefully who laughs nervously in response.

“Oh, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried, merely… curious. You lot seldomly break your morning routine, especially Logan, so seeing him in particular absent from this group despite us being all gathered here in his room, I do wonder what is going on. Care to enlighten me?”

“We don’t care to. This is none of your business, leave Deceit!” Virgil practically spits. Janus tuts and shakes his head.

“On the contrary, dear Virgil, if this does indeed involve Remus, it is entirely my business. He has been acknowledged by Thomas, not accepted. It is still a part of my duty to reign him in from time to time. To make sure he does not hurt Thomas’ mental health excessively.”

“Oh yeah, you did a great job of that before the wedding,” Roman scoffs. Janus glares at him.

“In that instance I let him looser than normal precisely to protect Thomas’ mental health in the long run. He was pushing himself too much, acknowledging Remus’ presence was supposed to help him clear his head a little,” he hisses and Virgil snorts.

“That worked out so well.”

“Sssssshhut up!”

“Kiddos! Please, let’s not fight, we have more pressing things to deal with right now!” Virgil and Roman grumble but don’t interject. Janus looks defensive, still glaring at the two of them. “Logan is missing,” Patton continues. “He left us this note but it’s so unlike him, we aren’t sure if we should trust it. While we checked his room, Roman found one of Remus’ deodorants, so we suspect he might be involved somehow.” Apparently deciding to abandon his staring match with Virgil, Janus walks over to Patton and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand the situation. Could I look at the note and the deodorant, please?”

“Oh, sure,” Patton says with a light blush and hands over the folder. Janus quietly thanks him before thumbing through the pages. The letter he looks at last.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed warn him about his habit to overwork himself a few times recently. If he is taking a break, then I am more inclined to let him do so.”

“We don’t want to stop him from taking a break!” Patton hastily clarifies. “We’re just worried about the how. We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. And if Remus is involved, I don’t know how much of a break he is really getting…” He trails off at the end, staring at his feet. Janus hums and quickly walks over to Roman to pluck the deodorant out of his hands.

“Hey!” The prince protests, but Janus doesn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he looks over the case in his hand. Once he was finished, he drops it back into Roman’s hands who squawks at him offendedly.

“From recent conversations, it did seem like Remus was getting rather attached to Logan and I don’t think they have a bad relationship. It might very well be that Logan asked the Duke for his help in this matter.”

“As if,” Virgil pouts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that himself. Janus ignores him.

“But if you feel like you need to check then I do have an idea where to look.” Patton beams at him.

“Really? Could you take us? Right now??”

“No way am I going anywhere with that snake!” Roman yells. “He might just be leading us into a trap!” Janus gives him an unimpressed look.

“And why would I do that? My job is to make sure Thomas’ mental health is in good shape. Getting all of you injured, or whatever you imagine I would want to do to you, would be nothing but counterproductive.”

“Like I believe that!”

“Regardless,” Janus says to brush off Roman’s protest who in turn only seems to get angrier, “I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. If the two are where I think they are, then you have no chance of getting there without a guide.”

“I can navigate Remus’ side of the Imagination just as well as my own, I do not need your help, Jack the Fibber!”

“I do not doubt that my prince. However, that place in particular is designed to keep unwanted visitors out. I doubt you would even find it, not to mention getting inside.”

“And what place would that be?” Virgil hisses before Roman can start yelling again.

“The library.”

“Remus… has a library?” Patton asks, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, he doesn’t. The fact that you do not know about it just proves my point. It is one of the most fortified buildings Remus has ever created. The layout constantly changes, there are traps and monsters roaming the halls.”

“If the layout changes, then why do you think you could take us there?” Patton interjects.

“Because there is one path that leads to the actual library within, and I mean only one path. Make one wrong turn or otherwise go off course and you will not find your way out easily. I got lost only once and I do not recommend it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Roman challenges, head raised high. Janus seems amused by his stubborn antagonism.

“I do not care if you believe me or not. You are the ones that want to check on Logan. I am only offering to take you since I had planned to go there soon anyway. And I need to see what Remus is doing from time to time. You can come along or not, it is totally. Up. To. You.” Janus emphasizes the last words by poking Roman lightly in the chest after each syllable, all the while smirking up at him. Roman continues to glare but he couldn’t quite repress the slight flush of his cheeks at Janus’ proximity. The snakelike side laughs lightly before making his way back to the door.

“I will leave after breakfast. You do what you think is right,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving the others in silence.

“He has got to be tricking us, right?” Virgil growls after a few seconds. Roman nods in agreement but Patton looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think so. He has no reason to.”

“He’s Deceit, Patton. It’s all he knows.”

“Look, I know you both had your differences with him and I’m still adjusting too, but Janus is an integral part of Thomas, we cannot deny that anymore. I am sure he does not want anything truly bad to happen to any of us, so if this is a trick then it is probably only a small prank.” Virgil and Roman share a look of disbelief but Patton doesn’t stop there. “And besides, what other options do we have? Sit around and hope that Logan is truly okay? Or comb through Remus’ side on our own? Your powers barely work over there Roman, and the place is not small, right?”

“Right,” Roman admits with a sigh after a few seconds of silence. “And I am worried about Nerdy Wolverine, if we don’t do anything about this, I will go stir crazy, so I guess I can try and trust that snake for a bit.”

“Thank you, Ro!” Patton pulls him into a hug, beaming. Roman chuckles and pats his back.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you, padre.” He turns to Virgil. “Are you going to come along?”  

“…Fine,” Virgil grumbles, still clearly unhappy about the situation. “But if it turns out that he’s up to something, I am totally going to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, Emo Nightmare.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The track through Remus’ side of the Imagination hadn’t been pleasant. The atmosphere was tense and Patton’s attempts to lighten the mood didn’t cheer anyone up. Roman and Virgil did their best to ignore Janus and the deceitful side himself accepted their stubbornness quietly. Only Patton really talked, though even he gave up after a while. Thankfully, they didn’t come across any of Remus’ monsters but the landscape they had to track through was nightmarish enough and won’t be discussed here. Now they stood before their apparent goal.

“This… is it?” Roman asks, doubtfully. The building in front of them is a rather cliché-looking mansion from horror games. It is a wide, stone structure with two floors that seems to have high ceilings. It’s dark and intimidating looking though on closer inspection, the construction style seems to change randomly. A different kind of stone here, another window frame there. Apparently, Remus stitched together different buildings and haphazardly added details wherever it pleased him. For example, the house of Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas is sticking out of the roof, completely intact but just… there.

What stands out most though, is the glass dome further back on the building. Not because it is the most impressive but because it’s the only thing that is illuminated, emitting a soft yellow glow. All the other windows are pitch black.

“Not satisfied, Roman?” Janus smirks.

“Well, yes. I expected more from my brother’s so-called masterpiece!”

“I definitely called it his masterpiece,” Janus says as he rolls his eyes. “And the interior is the more impressive part. The exterior Remus changes every so often when he gets new inspiration. I think the last remodeling came after Thomas researched that giant lady and the game she’s in.”

“You mean the one you stole your skirt look from?” Virgil smiles, mischievously.

“Yes, because my look wasn’t almost finished by the time Thomas found out about her!” Janus hisses at him with a glare. Virgil shows him his tongue.

“Kiddos, please stop. We’re here for Logan, let’s concentrate!” Patton tries to encourage teamwork but again is not really successful.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil scoffs and glares at Janus one last time before turning back to the building in front of them.

“Let’s just get this over with. Remus’ side always gives me chills,” Roman complains.

“Very well.” Janus adjusts his gloves before clearing his throat. “Once we enter, as I haven’t told you before, there is one path we need to follow, so I need you to listen to my instructions carefully and let me take the lead. I know it’s very hard for you to go along with other people’s plan but trust me on this one, Roman.” He grins over at the prince whose face is turning red in anger. Before he can explode, Patton steps in.

“No provocation from you either, Janus! If we have to rely on you as you say, then make an effort to be reliable in return!” He leans close to Janus and pouts, giving him his best I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-know-you-can-do-better look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop as well.” Janus waves him off. “The instructions can be stupidly specific sometimes, at one point we will have to stick to one side of a corridor, for example, but there will also be traps, distractions and monsters. Though – and make sure to remember that – nothing truly dangerous can access the path. So even if something comes charging at us, I need you to stay calm and not run around like headless chickens. I will not save you from your own stupid decisions.”

“Oh yes, so trustworthy. Thank you greatly for your generosity.” Roman rolls his eyes and Patton shots him a slight glare, making him huff but refrain from further comments. Janus ignores him completely.

“Our goal is the dome and usually it should take not over half an hour to arrive there.” Now Roman looks sceptic for a different reason.

“If we just need to get to the dome then can’t we just climb the building and get in from the roof?”

“Oh yes, what a great plan, I can’t believe I have never thought of that before!” Janus exclaims, hand on his heart but quickly drops the act. “The interior and exterior aren’t connected like that. Since Remus shifts the inside around as much, no window or door – other than the main entrance – connect to a specific room. It will just drop you randomly somewhere in the mansion. And as I’ve stated before, that is not something you want to happen. So no, we can’t do this like a heist movie.” Roman looks angry again but doesn’t comment. Patton pats him on the shoulder (which only seems to sour his mood more) before addressing Janus.

“Alright, we will follow your lead.” he says with a smile. Janus nods at him stiffly before moving towards the front door without another word, the others following behind him with tense expressions (though Patton tries, and fails, to hide his).

The door to the mansion is made of a heavy, red wood that Janus pushes open without hesitation. Behind it lies… a rather normal looking entrance hall. There is a long carpet that leads to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the decoration is tasteful. Or rather, it used to be. As impressive as the hall is, it is rotting away. There’s dust everywhere, as well as spiderwebs and the air is thick and unpleasant.

“This place has so much potential if my brother bothered to take care of it,” Roman huffs as he looks around. Janus doesn’t respond but instead gives more instructions.

“Follow behind me in a line. And please do walk next to each other, that wouldn’t be risky at all.” After saying that, he moves toward the back of the hall, left of the staircase where a door is situated. “Behind here is where the dangerous path starts. Be. Very. Careful,” Janus stresses, looking back at the others who had followed him.

“Will do!” Patton responds, with faux cheerfulness. Roman and Virgil sigh but they do line up. Their marching order is Janus, Patton, Virgil and Roman in the back. The first few hallways and rooms they pass aren’t all that bad. They have a few disgusting gimmicks – bleeding walls, gooey carpets, a mirror that insults you when you stand before it – but nothing too severe. The first truly shocking room (though it really should have been expected, in hindsight) they come across is…

“Is this the playroom from Fifty Shades of Grey?” Virgil asks after they all simply stared at the contents of the room for a few moments.  

“Thomas hasn’t even seen that movie!” Roman exclaims, very red in the face. He is also holding Patton’s glasses to protect his purity while Virgil holds his hand while he is effectively blind. Janus shrugs his shoulders.

“The scene has been referenced in enough videos and interviews that we have a basic understanding of what happened in it. And that might have been where Remus got the idea from, but he definitely modified it to be more to his taste. It is a room for BDSM though.”

“How… How do you know that?” Roman asks, still very much embarrassed.

“… Just be grateful that there are no people in here today,” is all Janus is willing to admit before heading towards the door that allows them to continue. The corridor behind it is dimly lit and a few lights even flicker. Janus leads them on confidently, the others follow him back in line and with Patton’s glasses returned to their owner. However, the creepy feeling of the hallway has Patton continue to cling onto Virgil’s hand, who is the side of the group most comfortable with horror. Roman has one hand on his sheathed sword – that he had strapped to his side before they entered Remus’ side of the imagination – and the other has a tight grip on Virgil’s hoodie. The anxious side isn’t very happy about how the two clinging to him limits his movement, but he can understand their worries, so he lets it slide.

“Did you hear that?” Patton squeaks out and for a moment Virgil doesn’t know what he means before a thump echoes down the hallway. They freeze, bringing Roman to a stop behind them.

“What’s wro- “

“Shhhhhh!” The rumbling becomes louder and now Janus notices that they had stopped following. He, unlike Roman can guess as to why so he just waits ahead in slight annoyance. He had warned them before entering, he won’t tell them again. By now Roman had caught on and he grips the sword tightly, ready to draw.

Ahead of them, a monster comes around the corner. It has the body of a gorilla and walks on all fours, but its head is that of a snake and a pair of wings grow from its back. That would have been enough to scare Patton, maybe even Roman, but the most noticeable and gruesome attribute of the monster were its injuries. Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of zombie, since there are large chunks of flesh missing from its gorilla body, other patches lacked fur and again others ooze a liquid that may have been blood if it wasn’t so obviously sticky.  

The snake head isn’t fairing much better. It misses some scales and there are a few black spots that might have been burn marks. One of the wings seems undamaged though its partner looks all the worse for it. There are hardly any feathers left and the bones that are now left exposed seem broken in a few places and hang limply in a way that looks very, very wrong.

The monster spots them easily, makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a mix of a hiss and a roar and charges at them. Roman curses quietly and quickly pushes Virgil and Patton behind him. Janus looks unbothered, he is leaning against the wall and waits for it to be over. The monster gains more and more speed (considering the length of the corridor, it doesn’t make sense how long the charge takes), sprinting at them, until – oh so suddenly – it collides with something and crashes to the ground. Roman, Virgil and Patton stare at it with open mouths.

“I told you: as long as we stick to the path, nothing can hurt us,” Janus explains nonchalantly before resuming his way down the corridor, towards the beast that twitches on the ground. The others stare at it a moment longer before they hurry after Janus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few corridors and rooms were not all that difficult. One hallway was filled with spike traps that they had to avoid, and they passed three different torture rooms, all with different equipment. Janus explained that Remus liked to separate them by era and country, so he had, for example, one room filled with torture instruments used in the witch hunts in Germany from 1550 to 1650. And while they weren’t nice to look at, the rooms were empty and so it was left to their own imaginations as to how the instruments might have been used.

The next impactful incident happens in a corridor with a ceiling that falls down and crushes everyone beneath it. To avoid it, Janus told them to stick as close to the right wall of the hallway as possible. Their pace is significantly slower this way but none of them wanted to be squished so they carefully set one foot in front of the other.

“We’re almost there,” Janus calls to the others. The passage isn’t all that long but with the literally looming threat, it sure feels like it.

“Pat, you’re not stepping right,” Virgil hisses and pulls him more to the side.

“Sorry!” the moral side squeaked. “I think my glasses are smudged a bit. It makes it hard to see.”

“Oh, sorry, padre. That might have been me when I held them for you,” Roman apologizes.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I do it myself all the time.”

“Well, better clean them before one of your feet get crushed. Everyone stop!” Virgil commands and though he seems annoyed, Janus complies. Patton gives them an apologetic smile before taking his glasses off to wipe them clean with his shirt as best as he can.

Unable to hold still, Roman shuffles a bit on the ground and that’s when he makes a mistake. One of his feet lands too far away and a click comes from the ceiling. With a whoosh and a bang, part of the ceiling comes down. Virgil startles so bad that he lunges forward a bit, upsetting Patton’s balance and sending him to the floor, taking Janus with him. Thankfully, they don’t trigger another trap, but Patton’s glasses fall to the ground and skitter down the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asks, frantically, moving to help Patton up.

“I’m fine, but my glasses…”

“Do not worry, I will get them back for you!” Roman proclaims before starting to climb over Virgil and Patton still on the floor to get to the front.

“Watch it, Prince Douche!”

“I am, Emo Bitch!”

“Language!”  

Roman manages to get past both of them and Janus before the latter grips his arm to stop him.

“Don’t!” he hisses. Roman eyes him skeptically.

“And why not, oh Great Deceiver?” he mocks.

“Because we need to make a right here! The glasses are off the path!” Understanding blooms on Roman’s face and he looks back towards the glasses, a few feet away from the crossing they need to take.

“I can’t just grab them real quick and come back?”

“No. Once you’re off the path you can’t just turn around. I doubt you’ll even be able to still see us then.”

“It’s okay,” Patton calls from the back. He and Virgil are back on their feet. “I have a spare pair in my room, if you guide me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Again, I’m so sorry, Padre.”

“Please stop apologizing, it’s really fine, promise!” Patton smiles but his eyes are obviously not focusing on Roman and it’s apparent just how little he can see like this.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Virgil mumbles and leads him forward and into the crossing where they are safe from more falling ceilings.

“It’s not fine,” Janus suddenly speaks up. All eyes turn to him (or where Patton thinks he is). “We’re almost at the library but Remus, as charming as he is, of course made the last stretch the most annoying. Most of the time it’s a ladder we will need to climb with traps all over them to try and get you to fall over and over and over again. I can warn you about the ones I spot but if Patton can’t see them himself, he won’t be able to avoid them properly. We need to get his glasses somehow…”

The three with working eyes pondered for a bit before Roman speaks up.

“I think Virgil might be able to reach if he lays on the ground…”

“Why me?!”

“You’re the tallest.”

“By a few inches at best!”

“Well, those few inches might just be what we need here,” Janus chimes in and Virgil glares at him.

“C’mon, Beetlejuice, you want to get out of here, right? And we can’t leave Patton behind.”

“Really, kiddos, it’s fine! I’ll manage… somehow.”

“Yes, keep saying that, it’s sooo helpful!”

“Don’t take it out on him!”

“Just stop it!” Roman yells over the chaos. “Virgil please. I’ll hold on to your foot, it’ll be fine!” Virgil eyes him for a moment before he sighs.

“Fine but you use that,” he taps against Roman’s sash, “to secure my foot. I don’t trust your milky hands.”

“Milky?!”

“Ugh, just do it!” Janus groans and is met with two glares for his effort but both Roman and Virgil get to work. With the red band firmly bound around Virgil’s shoe and Roman’s hand, the former carefully lies on the floor. Just as he is about to start robbing over to the glasses, a door down the hallway opens and a figure emerges. Virgil stares at it in disbelief.

“Why Pyramid Head?!” Indeed, the creature now slowly making its way toward them, knife dragging across the floor, was the iconic monster from Silent Hill 2. Janus is the first to regain his composure.

“At least he’s slow! Quickly grab the glasses before he gets over there!”

“Easy for you to say- “

“Stop arguing, please,” Patton begs from his position against the wall of the next corridor they would traverse. Virgil grumbles under his breath but makes his way forward. And so does Pyramid Head.

It’s like watching a (very slow) head-to-head race toward the finish line. Robbing forward on his stomach, Virgil is about as fast as Pyramid Head’s walking speed. Inch by inch, Virgil gets closer to the reach of the gigantic knife still dragging along the floor. The creature doesn’t even need to get to him, just close enough to swing its weapon.

Virgil’s ankle leaves the path as he gets close enough to try and reach the glasses. And if Pyramid Head used its blade right now, it might have a chance to hit but still it moves forward, into a position where it is more likely to strike true.

Virgil’s fingertips hit the frame. Just a little bit more. Half of his foot is still within the barrier. Roman has a firm grip on the sash. Virgil’s hand closes around the glasses and Pyramid Head raises his knife to swing down.

“Got them!”

“Janus! Help me pull him back!” Roman calls as he holds Virgil’s shoe with his tied-up hand and places the other on his ankle. Immediately, the other is beside him, grabs onto his arms and pulls. And not a second too late. The knife lands where Virgil’s head had been moments before, and Roman and Janus fall onto their asses while Virgil is trying to catch his breath and to not go into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“What happened?? Are you okay?” Patton calls over, worriedly.

Roman lets out a breathless, unbelieving laugh and collapses onto his back, the adrenaline rushing through him. Which turned out to be good because as soon as his head hits the ground, a click comes from the ceiling once again.

“Shit-!” Quickly Roman rolls to the side before his head is flattened by the trap. He must’ve moved within its range by an inch. Janus stares at him in disbelief.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m too fabulous to die.” The ridiculous response got Virgil to laugh and forget his panic for long enough to calm down.

“Guys?” Again, Patton tries to get their attention.

“We’re all fine, Pat. And I’ve got your glasses, hold on.” Virgil climbs to his feet, wipes the lenses on his hoodie to clean them as best he could before heading over to Patton and pushing them onto his nose. “How’s that?” Patton doesn’t answer, just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Um… Sure. No problem,” Virgil mumbles nervously. Patton gives him a smile before looking over to the other two that are in the process of standing up. On the other side of the barrier, Pyramid Head has lost interest and was now moving away again. The sides pay him no mind.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Roman comes over to Virgil and Patton with a grin, Janus on his heels.

“Speak for yourself, princey. I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“I’m having so much fun with this. Let’s go, sadly, we’re almost there.” Janus takes the lead once again and the others follow. They pass through one more room, a laboratory of sorts with lots of blood on most of the surfaces (thankfully, the floor is mostly clean), before they enter what seems to be an elevator shaft. And indeed, the only way forward is a ladder.

“How surprising,” Janus mutters under his breath before turning back toward the others. “As I’ve said before, this part is not really dangerous, but pretty annoying. There will be traps to try and get you to fall but even if you do, you will fall slowly. Remus implemented this more as a prank than anything else. I’ll tell you about what I spot but we may need several tries.”

“Okay, we’ll trust you to not let us down,” Patton says with a wink. Janus stares at him with a blank look.

“That was terrible.” Then he starts to climb, Patton after him, then Virgil and Roman is in the back again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They do indeed need more than five tries to get to the top. It was especially annoying that Patton fell for the same trap twice, requiring the rest to wait where they were until he climbed up again. Their arms are gonna be sore tomorrow for sure. But they had finally made it.

The ladder ended in another corridor but this one was clean and wonderfully decorated in greens and silver. Portraits line the walls, most of them of Remus himself, but there is one of Janus and one of both together. Most peculiar are two others however. One shows Remus grinning, arm out to the side, probably hugging someone but the other half of the painting is missing. The second is simply an empty frame.

“Self-centered much?” Roman scoffs.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t have at least a dozen different self-portraits in your castle, Prince of Narcissists,” Virgil retorts. Janus doesn’t pay any attention to the banter or the pictures for that matter. He strides ahead with purpose. Patton watches him in concern, but he feels like this isn’t a moment to pry.

At the end of the corridor is an enormous double door, also in green and silver. The handles, however, are made of gold.

“Does he have some sort of obsession with Slytherin or something?” Again, it’s Roman commenting. Janus hisses at him in disdain.

“For your information, he is a Gryffindor, same as you. And his second choice would be Ravenclaw. No, green and silver just happen to be his favorite colors.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “What made you so cranky?”

“Please, keep talking.” Janus rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.” He grabs the handle on one side and pushes, Patton quickly helps him with the other. Slowly the heavy material gives away and swings open. And suddenly their vision is filled with green.

In front of them is a jungle and as they take the first steps in, the humid air hits them. Birds can be heard singing somewhere but none of them are able to spot them. They stand in a clearing, although the tree line that surrounds them is only about ten feet from them. The trees themselves tower over them, their leaves lush and green, vines hanging between them. The ground is littered with bushes and plants and only one way seems to lead further inward, its stones wide and beautiful. As they look up into the sky, they can see the glass of the dome incasing them, the sun beaming down outside. Which was weird since when they had been in front of the building the weather had been quite dreary.

“Are we… really in the right place?” Patton asks, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the serenity of their surroundings by being too loud.

“Yes, we are. If you look closely, you can see a few shelves on the far side of the dome.” Janus points upward and the others follow his line of sight. Indeed, quite a ways away, they could see some brown structures following the curve of the dome.

“How are the books not falling?” Virgil questions, his eyes squinted to make out anything in the first place. Roman snorts.

“This is the imagination, Doubtful Central. Remus doesn’t want them to fall, so they don’t fall.” Virgil sticks out his tongue at the prince’s condescending tone. Patton lightly scolds them to stop fighting. Janus clears his throat.

“We need to track along the path for a bit until we reach a river. Behind it is the library.”

“And hopefully Logan,” Patton sighs. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is, padre. You know our nerd, he isn’t easy to beat,” Roman jokes, his hand squeezing Patton’s shoulder in support. Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!”

“You wish, princey.”

“Kiddos…” Patton almost sounds defeated and Janus pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“He used to be like that with Remus, too. It’ll be fine.” Patton nods and gives Janus a grateful smile. He, in turn, gives a nod in acknowledgment back and turns to back to the bickering two. “I hate to interrupt you but one more warning. Watch your feet in there. There are some books that have gone… wild.” The others stare at him a moment.

“He stole the Monster Book of Monsters, didn’t he?”

“… He created something similar at least.”

With a groan from Virgil, the group sets out and follows the path. Even though it is made of stone, there are still quite a few branches and vines to dodge. The jungle isn’t quiet either, various sounds resounding in the air. Rustling in the bushes, noises that might belong to a kind of monkey, the birds’ continuous songs. A collage of different sounds that is almost overwhelming.

Roman keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword in case one of the animals decide to come their way, his eyes scanning the trees continuously. Patton clutches one of Virgil’s hands in his own, both also checking their surroundings nervously. Meanwhile, Janus’ eyes are fixated on the ground.

After they had walked for a few minutes, the tension drops a bit. Most of the jungle’s inhabitants seem to go out of their way on their own without hostility. In that moment, a bush on the right side rustles suddenly, then one to the left and unbelievably quickly, two books shoot out of the greenery and try attacking the groups feet. Patton screams and jumps into Virgil’s arms whose eyeshadow turned a very deep black.  

“Just give them a good kick, that usually scares them off!” Janus calls over the ruckus Patton is making, mostly directed at Roman who had unsheathed his sword. He is trying to stab the books, but their binding is quite resistant, and he can’t really get a good hit in. As he hears the call however, he shoots a quick look over to Janus, who has taken a few steps away to protect himself, before swinging his leg with all his might, hitting one book directly into the spine and sending it flying into the canopy.

The second one snarls and turns its attention from Virgil, whose shoe it had been trying to chew through, to Roman, and (again quicker than you would expect from a thing with no legs) darts toward him, in a zig-zag pattern so it wouldn’t suffer the same fate as its companion.

“Shit,” Roman curses, earning a weak ‘Language!’ from Patton who was calming down now that the book wasn’t focused on him and Virgil anymore. Roman tries to land another hit but the book is too fast and lunges forward, most likely to bite him in the leg.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Virgil’s heel digs into the cover, throwing the book back down to the ground. It whimpers and quickly disappears back into the bushes. With heavy breaths does Virgil set his foot back down, Patton still in his arms. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Hot Topic! You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs while Patton climbs down, “fight-or-flight, remember?” Roman laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Right, right.” They smile at each other for a moment before Patton speaks up.

“Where’s Janus?” Surprised, the three quickly take a look around. The deceitful side was nowhere in sight.

“I knew that slimy snake could not be trusted!” Roman yells angrily. Virgil has a similarly dark look. Patton doesn’t look convinced.

“Maybe he just went ahead? It’s not like there are any other paths we can follow, so he could have just gone ahead to scout for more bad books?”

“You really are too trusting, padre,” Roman scoffs. “But you are right, there is only one path to follow, might as well take it. Turning around now would be pointless anyway.” He and Virgil start walking forward. Patton nervously gnaws at his lip, not liking how this is turning out at all.

They do find Janus not all that far up ahead. He is crouching down in front of a bush, apparently muttering to himself. The path had winded at bit and with the branches in the way they hadn’t been able to spot him earlier. Still, Roman continues to be mad and stomps over to him.

“So now is the point where you try to abandon us?? Just what is your game, snake?!” Janus looks over his shoulder, as calmly as ever.

“Abandoning you was definitely my intention,” he scoffs before turning back around, reaching for something, and standing back up after. When he then turns to face them fully, he is holding a long, yellow snake in his arms that is winding itself around his torso. “This is Jake, I used to keep him in my room, but he took a liking to the jungle, so I let him live here, most of the time at least.” Jake stops his climbing and watches them for a moment, his tongue flickering out.

“Aww!” Patton coos before stepping a bit closer. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, he doesn’t bite. Most of the time.” But the moral side has already stopped listening, instead stroking the snake’s head which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Roman, who had been a bit stunned at the sudden animal in Janus’ hands, regains his composure.

“So why did you disappear then?” he demands. Janus shrugs.

“I figured you could handle two books with no actual teeth and Jake called out to me, so I went ahead to find him. There is only one path after all, I doubted you could manage to get lost.” Roman is practically fuming but Patton interjects before he can blow up.

“You can speak with him??”

“Yes. You really think Thomas modeled me after a snake and didn’t give me the ability to speak Parseltongue?”

“Cool!” Patton whispers, staring at Janus with wide eyes, who looks a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He clears his throat.

“Anyway. Jake tells me that Remus is indeed here. And he’s not alone.” Immediately, Virgil’s gaze snaps to him.

“Logan?”

“Most likely. Jake has never met him before, but the description fits.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.” Janus shrugs.

“He’s just a snake. He doesn’t lie to me, but he could be wrong.”

“We should hurry,” Patton says with determination, pulling his hand back. Jake hisses in displeasure from losing the scritches he was receiving. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Come back with me today and I’ll scratch you wherever you like.” That seems to please the snake since he gives another, smaller hiss and continues his winding around Janus until he finds a comfortable position.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They continue along the path for another few minutes without incident. Some bushes rustled but no more books tried to attack them. Finally, they could hear the sound of rushing water. The river must be near. Unconsciously, they increase their pace until they end up before a cliff, the path just suddenly ending there. The cliff isn’t all that high, only a few feet away from the rushing stream. Some type of fish jumping out of its waters every now and again. The jungle continued to the left and right of them, no bridge in sight.

“Um… How do we get across?” Patton asks, eyeing the drop. Janus takes a second to answer, not focused on the below but the beyond.

“We don’t,” he finally answers.

“What’s that supposed to mean??” Virgil demands, yet again glaring at him. Janus shrugs while he pats Jake’s head, eyes still focused ahead of them.

“This place is one of Remus’ most treasured places and there are times when even he wants to be left alone. If he doesn’t want anyone to come here, he simply removes the bridge. There is nothing we can do.”

“So we made this entire trip for nothing?!”

“I wouldn’t say that. Look.” Janus points ahead. The others reluctantly follow his gaze. None of them have really focused on the other side yet, too preoccupied with trying to go further.

A few more trees stand along the cliff but way less dense than on their side. The path continues for a few more feet before it ends at the steps of a lightly raised wooden platform, the true start of the library. Behind a reading area, rows and rows of bookcases tower, each row bigger than the one before it until the ones merging with the wall that reach way, way higher, following the curve of the dome and still somehow letting the natural light from outside shine through.

What Janus was referring to, however, is the aforementioned seating area. Among the few tables and chairs, are some sofas, beanbags, stools, and various other seating opportunities, all in different styles and colors. Because of course Remus would never settle on one theme alone. Only one of those seats was currently occupied though.

Lying on a chaise longue, turned towards them, with a book in his hand and a steaming cup on a small table beside him, is Logan. Seemingly without a worry, their nerd is relaxed and reading. Without looking away from the pages, he reaches over, takes the cup and sips whatever drink it contains before placing it back down without a second though. It seems like their worrying had been unnecessary.

“He looks fine, right?” Virgil says, though he sounds rather nervous, and he raises his thumb to bite at the nail. Patton instinctively stops him.

“That’s good, right?” he adds, also not sounding quite convinced. Janus watches their reactions without commenting. He hadn’t been worried about the logical side, he just wanted to avoid the others working themselves up over the next few days with their wild theories.

“It is too early to say yet!” Roman proclaims. “That could just be an illusion to fool us. To let our guard down! I will not leave until I spoke with him in person.”

“Nobody said anything about leaving though?” Virgil mutters. Roman ignores him.

“But we can’t reach him,” Patton objects. “How do you wanna do that?”

“Hmm…” Roman hums and takes another look at the raging water below them. “It’s not that far across. If I jump far enough, I’m sure I could make it. And I’m an excellent climber and swimmer!”

“I would advise against that,” Janus speaks up, Roman immediately eyeing him suspiciously.

“And why is that? Huh?”

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed you would be able to recognize piranhas when you see them.” Quickly, Roman’s eyes flickered back to the river and the fish still jumping out of it occasionally. “I’m also pretty sure Remus put some sharks in there just because he could. And I mean the bloodthirsty kind.” Patton’s face is now white as chalk and Virgil had a firm grip on Roman’s sleeve.

“Fine, fine!” the prince exclaims. “No swimming, I get it!” He gestures widely and Virgil lets go of him, turning away, his ears pink in embarrassment. “Then I guess we have no other choice!”

“And what choice would that be?” Janus asks, eyebrow raised. Roman grins at him before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling at the top of his lungs:

“LOGAN! OVER HERE! HEY! ACROSS THE RIVER!” The other three slap their hands over their ears, glaring at the prince. Roman doesn’t quiet down however, until Logan obviously takes note of them. Then he switches to waving widely. Janus rubs his temples; he has had about enough for today. Patton joins in on the waving though less enthusiastically. Virgil buries his hands in his pockets and shrinks back.

Logan does not look happy to see them. Not that they could make out much from the distance in terms of facial expressions, but he had gone stiff once he realized what was happening. He bookmarks his page before setting the book down and stands up. He turns away for a moment and Janus thinks he can hear him calling out to Remus, but the rushing of the water makes it hard to be sure. Afterwards, Logan makes his way over to them, down the steps and toward the edge of the cliff where he stops. Now they could make out the frown on his face more clearly.

“What are you doing here?” he calls over, sounding displeased. Roman hesitates to answer because of his tone, so Patton speaks up instead.

“We were worried about you, kiddo! You just up and vanished and we didn’t know where to!”

“I am aware, that was intentional. Did you not find the folder?”

“We did, but we weren’t really sure if we could trust it,” Virgil explains. Having to yell over the sound of rushing water quickly became annoying.

“What do you mean, you weren’t sure if you could trust it?” Logan frown deepens but before one of them could answer, Remus appears behind him suddenly.

“Boo!” he yells, grinning all the while. Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t react further. Roman stiffens, Patton bites his lips and Virgil buries deeper into his hoodie in displeasure. Janus is standing to the side, petting Jake, and acting like this situation doesn’t involve him.

Remus cackles at their reactions before saying something to Logan and summoning what appears to be a soundboard. He lowers a few regulators and immediately their surroundings quiet down. The river now sounds distant, like the cliff just became a few miles deeper than before, the rustling of the leaves falls quiet, as do the birds. The surreal situation stuns all of them for a moment.

“There! That’s better, right?”

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan says before turning back to the others, not having to yell anymore. “Now please continue your explanation of why you did not heed my instructions?”

“Well, um…” Patton tries to find the right words, but before he can, Janus speaks up.

“Remus, please unmute your brother.” Everyone turns to look at Roman whose face is red and seemingly trying to yell but no sound comes out. Quickly all eyes turn back to Remus who is pouting.

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t want them to continue assuming that you kidnapped our dear Logan over there, than you might want to consider not annoying them, yes,” Janus shrugs, apparently not really caring whether Roman gets his voice back or not. Logan raises an eyebrow and shifts his focus back toward his fellow light sides.

“You assume I was kidnapped?”

“It all happened so suddenly; we didn’t know what to think!” Patton tries to explain, eyes jumping between Logan, Roman and Remus. “Please give him his voice back,” he begs after a moment of Logan glaring at them, obviously not happy with the answer.

“But-!” Remus starts to whine before Logan puts a hand on his arm and in a low tone says: “It will only make this take even longer. Please just do it so we can get this over with?”

“Ugh, fine!” Remus groans before flicking one regulator back up but not to full volume.

“You stinking rat, I’ll run you through with my sword!” Roman yells, or at least tries to, only managing to raise his voice a little louder than his normal speaking tone. He glares at his brother when he realizes this, who flips him off in return.

“Stop fighting, kiddos, please.”

“He started it!” Roman protests but Patton just shrugs.

“And we came here without permission. Plus, we’re here to talk to Logan, not to antagonize Remus.” The prince clicks his tongue but doesn’t say any more. Remus laughs.

“Yes, listen to your Daddy, Ro-bro! Or you might get spanked later!” Logan squeezes his arm that he was still holding on to and frowns at him.

“You stop starting fights as well, Rem. I just want them to leave.”

“You know how to shut me up,” Remus grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Logan simply gives him an unimpressed stare. After a few seconds, he drops the grin and sighs. “Fine, fine. You deal with them, and I’ll go play with Bruce.” He summons his tentacles before diving into the river below. Patton gasps.

“Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine. It’s his realm so nothing he creates here will do him harm unless he wants it to,” Roman reassures, almost too quiet. Regulating his volume is going to be hard for a bit and he already looks annoyed by it. Patton nods at his reassurance before turning back to Logan.

“Where were we, kiddo?” The logical side, who had also followed Remus’ decent with his eyes, looks back up and returns to frowning.

“You were attempting to explain why you assumed I was kidnapped despite me leaving clear instructions to prove the contrary.”

“It was just very unlike you, Lo,” Virgil chimes in, still deeply buried into his hoodie. “You didn’t say anything beforehand, and we thought Deceit or the Duke might have forged the folder.”

“Exactly! And then we found my brother’s atrocious deodorant case in your trash and…” Roman trails off as he realizes what he just said.

“You… went through my trash?” Logan is now undoubtedly seething, glaring at them with cold eyes.

“Well, you see…” Roman tries to explain with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. Patton looks just as likely to come up with an excuse, so Virgil speaks up again.

“I asked Princey over there to check if you were in your room or not. He took that as an invitation to go snooping.”

“Very helpful, Doom and Gloom!”

“Well, it was your fault!”

“And you didn’t have to tell him that!”

“So,” Logan interrupts, voice calm but so icy that the others shiver, “let me make sure I understood this right. You found my notes and instead of trusting me and my ability to decide for myself, your first thought was that I was some damsel in distress that needed rescuing? And in your attempt to be the heroes once again you invaded my privacy as well?!” He continually got louder and louder, clearly very much angry.

“Logan, calm down, we just-“ Patton tries to interject but Logan continues, probably not even noticing that the other had spoken.

“You trust me so little, that you cannot even consider that I make decisions for my own well-being without consulting you? After pushing me aside again and again, you concluded that I cannot take care of myself? I have listed reasons for my decision in the letter I left you. Did you even consider those? Or did you assume that I would continue to let you figuratively walk all over me?” Logan takes a few deep breaths, the others stunned into silence. Once he feels like he is back in control of himself, the logical side continues, in his normal speaking voice.

“To me it is obvious that our current co-existence is neither beneficial to Thomas nor ourselves. We continue to figuratively turn in circles and no issues are truly being resolved. We all are stressed out, which makes finding a compromise even more unlikely. I had discussions on this topic with both Janus and Remus, as well as smaller conversations with all of you, if you cared to remember. And the conclusion I reached in the end was that we needed to take a step back and reevaluate. So, in order to do that, I asked Remus to help me arrange a place to stay for a few days to give us all time to reflect. He ended up inviting me here, to his library and I decided to extend my original idea into a vacation. I assure you, this all happened through my own volition.” With his arms crossed, he stares at the others, apparently awaiting an answer. Patton was the first to find his voice.

“We’re so sorry, kiddo. To us it was just a very sudden turn of events and we panicked. We should have trusted you more.”

“I trust him!” Roman huffs. “It’s Deceit and my brother that I don’t trust!” He points a finger accusingly towards Janus, who had continued to silently watch from the side and now raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Roman addresses Logan directly. “You said you talked with them about your plan but how do you know that it wasn’t part of theirs all along?!”

“Their plan to do what exactly?”

“To drive us apart, obviously! Ever since that snake showed up, we keep fighting! It must be his fault; he wants us to not trust each other so that he can influence Thomas!” Roman’s rant was undermined by his inability to truly raise his voice and none of the others seem convinced. Not even Virgil. Logan sighs.

“I understand that Janus’ past action have hurt you, Roman, but you need to accept that he is not the villain you make him out to be. He is doing his best to protect Thomas, as we all do. And he is not always in the right, none of us are. As much as I hate admitting it, my plans and wishes for Thomas are not always the answer either, which is why I try to incorporate your suggestions into my planning. But since you all seem to refuse to acknowledge my contributions in the same way, Thomas ends up neglecting his responsibilities. I would not let Janus make all the decisions, but he deserves to voice his opinions as much as the rest of us.”

“But he lured you away!”

“As I’ve already said, the decision was mine alone. Janus was the one who brought the idea of a vacation up to me first, that is true, but I was the one to decide to ask Remus for help and not discuss it with you beforehand.”

“And why didn’t you?” Virgil chimes in. Logan glances at him before turning his eyes toward the sky.

“I was trying to avoid this exact conversation. I am tired of justifying myself to you all. I needed a break, somewhere you cannot easily get to. As I’m sure you have noticed on your way here, this library is exactly what I was looking for. I am frustrated, maybe even angry with you. I raised my voice against you earlier, which I did not want to do but I just cannot hold back anymore. I need this distance from you for a while. I need to sort out my” – he stops and bites his lips for a moment before continuing – “feelings and I do not have the room or time to do so properly while in the mindscape with you all. I had hoped that I would be able to explain this to you when I came back but you couldn’t wait, apparently.”

“And you expect us to trust them in the meantime?” Roman growls, again pointing towards Janus and then down towards the river where Remus disappeared to. Logan glares at him.

“No, Roman. I expect you to trust me for once. I can take care of myself, I can defend myself against your brother and I can do so better than you, as we all have seen before.” Roman goes red in the face and tries to retort, but Patton holds him back.

“Enough. Logan’s right, we’re in the wrong here.”

“But padre-!”

“No buts, mister.” A giggle is heard from down below. “We jumped to conclusions and came here without permission. Logan is allowed to make his own choices and while I’m not happy about it either, we should trust him.” He pats Roman on the shoulder before turning back to Logan. “Then I hope you have fun, and we’ll see you soon, okay?” He said it with a smile, but Logan frown deepens.

“Stop patronizing me, Patton. I am the same age as you and it’s demeaning. I do not need your permission to stay here.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I- “ Patton stutters, embarrassed and not able to meet Logan’s eyes. Virgil sighs.

“Let’s just get out of here. We all have a lot to think about, apparently.” Roman clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. Patton nods and stares at the ground. “Hope you have a nice break, Lo. See ya.”

“That is the plan. Please leave now,” is all Logan says before turning away and going back to his book. Janus claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the others.

“Follow me, there is a shortcut out of here.”

“Let me guess, it only works one way?” Roman huffs, his voice still quieter than he’d like. The effect would likely only disappear once he’s out of Remus’ territory.

“Very clever, my prince,” Janus says and claps his hands again, this time in mock applause. “100 points for Gryffindor.” Roman glares at him but even he has lost the will to continue their arguments.

The group makes their way back in silence, through the jungle, down a hidden elevator off to the right of the gallery, out a side door of the building and back towards the mindscape. Patton is the only one who glances back towards Logan before he is obscured by the foliage of the jungle, but the logical side is already back on the chaise longue, drinking his still hot beverage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Due to the sounds still being muted, Logan could clearly hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator, signaling the departure of the others. With a sigh he puts the book down that he had only pretended to read. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly. What an ordeal this has been. After setting his glasses back in place, he takes another sip of his tea – which never cools thanks to Remus’ powers. Speaking off, wet slapping sounds reverberate through the air as the Duke makes his way over to Logan, dripping wet from his impromptu bathing session.

“So, how is Bruce?”

“Fine! He tried to bite my leg off, but he only got a few scraps of flesh!”

“Are you going to heal it or do you want me to bandage it?” Remus grins and with a snap he removes his damaged pants, at least from mid-thigh down. He knows Logan’s comfort zones and nudity wasn’t one of them. At least not yet. The logical side sighs as he summons a first aid kit. “Why am I not surprised?”

“’Cause you know I like it when you bondage me!”

“You mean ‘bandage me’, correct?”

“I know what I said.” Logan rolls his eyes and starts examining and dressing Remus’ wounds which, while bleeding, were all pretty superficial. For a few moments, he worked in silence, but as usual with Remus around, that didn’t last long.

“Felt good, right?”

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“Pff, don’t bullshit me, Lolo. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Fine, but I do not wish to comment on whether I found it satisfactory or not.”

“You can be such a prude.”

“That may very well be, but I do not see how that relates to our topic.”

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

“I am… unsure.” Logan finishes dressing the last wound, cleans the kit up before vanishing it away. Then he sits next to Remus with a sigh. “I do feel a bit better, having said what needed to be said but I also feel like I was too harsh with them.” Remus hums a moment before answering.

“Nah, I think they needed to hear it, ‘specially Daddy-o. He’s been treating not only you but Virgin as well like kids and he needs to stop or you’ll never get anywhere. Breaking out of your mold is exactly what you need, and they need to accept that.” Logan nods along but doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I am aware, but it still feels” – he grimaces at the word – “weird. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And that’s fine, Specs! You only just accepted that you have feelings, it’s gonna take a bit to figure them out. And dear Tomathy is in a weird place at the moment anyway, so it’s double confusing.”

“I am exhausted.”

“No wonder. Wanna take a nap?”

“Are you going to dry off first?”

“Ugh, fine. But only for you, Nerdy Wolverine!”

Consider: the scene in the comics where Scout dies, but instead it's Spy who's dying and he actually has the balls to tell Scout the truth face-to-face before it's too late.

consider: this shit is gonna break your heart, anon. dad!spy hours

(warnings for canon-typical violence, extreme character injury, major character death)

-

Just his luck that he’d find himself alone with so many of those ridiculous robots and with his knee so destroyed. He at least managed to take down the one that finally got him.

These tin cans didn’t even know enough to understand how to efficiently kill someone, he seethed. He’d certainly be bleeding out shortly—he was fairly sure he had a punctured lung, among other things, but the blood loss would probably be what did him in—but god, it was taking forever.

He could take some solace in that he at least didn’t drag Sniper to die along with him, had sent him to try and pick off as many bots as he could from the windows. And... well, he was fairly sure he’d been as useful as he could have been in this fight. Helped kill one of the Classic team—two, if you counted throttling his own counterpart—and done some good recon work besides. This wasn’t the most poetic or heroic death, but he wasn’t a fan of poetry and had never considered himself much of a hero, so that was probably fair.

But that stupid robot had ruined his jacket, which he was pretty annoyed about. Not like it would matter in the long run, but frustrating regardless.

God, it was cold.

He lifted his head when he heard the sound of rapid footfalls echoing down the hall, growing closer. Hey, maybe he could trick some robot into finishing him off, at least. Save himself some time and excruciating pain. He would’ve gone for the cyanide tooth, but unfortunately, this was the one situation where he’d jumped for that option a little bit too early. Just his luck.

(God, it was cold.)

Oh, well. Bludgeoned to death by a Scoutbot at least promised to be relatively quick. They tended to go for the head.

He looked up to at least give a snide remark to his more rapidly-approaching death, only for them to get stuck in his throat as the death in question rounded the corner and made eye contact with him.

“Holy shit, Spy?” Scout asked, looking startled and a little out of breath.

“Merde,” Spy mumbled, and was a little caught off guard by how hoarse his voice was.

In a second Scout had taken a knee next to him and was surveying the damage, mouth running at a mile a minute. “Holy shit we were lookin’ everywhere, Sniper showed up because I guess he was dead but now he’s better apparently and he said you two split off for some reason but you’d been fuckin’ kneecapped and—dude, you look like shit, what happened?”

“What does it look like?” Spy asked dryly.

“I mean, I don’t wanna give you an ‘I told you so’ or nothin’ but this is kinda what you get for disappearing and running off on your own all the time,” Scout pointed out.

He almost couldn’t feel the tiny ache of guilt that put in his chest underneath all the other much more life-threatening aches that were also in his chest. “Well, I’d say I’ve learned my lesson, but I think unfortunately I won’t be able to demonstrate any time soon,” Spy replied, and yeah, there was a puncture to his lung. He had to fight hard to hold down a cough, and only because he knew it would sound extremely pathetic.

“Okay, uh—can you move? Okay, you can’t move,” Scout seemed to decide. “Uh, okay, okay so I’ll uh—so I’m gonna go get Medic, and—he’s fast too we should be able to get back here in like ten minutes flat, easy! Just, I guess try and hold your guts in, I’ll be right back with help!”

Considering the amount of injured Medic was likely to be, he very much doubted Scout would be back with Medic in only ten minutes. And considering the way that his vision was swimming and how distorted Scout’s face got towards the tail end of that last sentence, he doubted he would make it ten minutes anyways.

And he found unexpected panic suddenly rising up in his chest at the thought of dying alone, here in a hallway surrounded by broken mechanical parts and acrid smoke. He forced himself into motion despite the way it made the entire room suddenly seem to careen to the left, and managed to catch Scout by the leg of his ridiculous trousers before he could take off again. “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait.”

“I, no, I gotta go get Medic, I’ll take like ten seconds—“ Scout was quick to assure, so quick that Spy realized he was legitimately worried.

“I’ll—“ Spy started, and paused to clear his throat just to give himself enough time to think of an excuse to have Scout stick around for a minute. “I’ll be fine to wait a little longer, but first I had something important to say.”

Scout frowned. “Yeah?”

And he did. He absolutely did. The problem was that this excuse was... hm.

The problem was that this was something he’d been putting off. The larger part of the situation for about 20 years, and then more directly for about six. And Spy thought that surely he would work up the courage to get to it over the course of their employment, only for it to be unexpectedly terminated, and he decided, well, that was that. He would just have to live with it. But then they got arrested and the thought that surely he would get to it over the course of their time in prison, and once again he didn’t, couldn’t seem to force himself into that conversation, not when he was trapped, not when he couldn’t run from whatever outcome ended up happening.

And now he was dying. And for all he knew, Scout was going to die shortly as well. And in most of the ways that mattered, Spy was the only person who could really answer this question, because apparently Scout’s mother had committed to the lie he’d asked her to tell, had continued to stay headstrong on helping to cover up how he’d faked his death. And how was she to know he was really dead, surely Scout would never bring it up—

If he didn’t tell Scout now, Scout would never know.

Scout would go the rest of his life never getting answers about his father.

“Merde,” he mumbled again, slumping back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut against the way the world was spinning, feeling motion sick.

He heard Scout take a knee again, and after a second he hesitantly prompted him. “Uh, what? What is it? What’s up?” he asked carefully.

Spy forced himself to open his eyes, and was a little startled by how difficult it was. He focused hard on one of his own shoes, trying his best to make the world stop spinning so fast. He swallowed hard to try and clear his throat, steady his voice. It almost worked. “This is very important,” he started with, and forced sharpness into his tone. “So I will not be needing any of your little jokes and quips and interruptions.”

“Y... yeah, okay,” Scout said, and the worry was extremely easy to read on his face, and Spy kind of hated that.

Spy considered his words. “You’ve mentioned before that you never knew your father,” he decided to open with. Scout immediately began to frown. “And... and I never said anything. Even though that was a very brave thing to bring up.”

Scout opened his mouth to reply before remembering himself and shutting it again.

“And I wanted to apologize,” Spy managed to choke, and he kept track of Scout’s expressions in his periphery, finding it easier to hold on to that way than by trying to look at him directly. “Because you’re never going to get the chance to know your father, not really. Not in the way you deserve, and it’s my fault.“

“Spy, what the fuck does that even mean?” Scout demanded, and maybe the anger starting to flood into his voice was fair. “You—what did you do?”

“You deserved to have a father,” Spy said, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was dodging the question, but maybe he wanted to be obvious, just for a minute. “A good one, who did all sorts of ridiculous fatherly things for you. And it’s not your fault that you didn’t. You deserved to. You did.”

God, it was cold.

“And he should have been there for you, and for your family,” Spy continued, and felt his stomach lurch unexpectedly, and had to shut his jaw tight for a moment, tight enough to feel his fake teeth aching. “And he should have supported them and been a good father, and your life should have been made much more easy than it was, and you should not have needed to get in fights and become a criminal in the first place, and you should never have needed to sign up to become a murderer in some terrible desert in New Mexico among a pack of assassins and madmen.”

“Spy, I, I should get Medic—“ Scout tried to cut in, moved as if to stand back up. Spy snared a hand in the front of Scout’s shirt, and though he knew full well that he wasn’t strong enough to actually stop Scout in any capacity, he froze up anyways.

“And—and I know that you deserved a real father, and I knew that,” Spy said, “and I know there is no excuse that can ever be given. There is nothing that I can ever say to make it up to you, or to your mother, or your brothers, nothing. And I should have been there but I was scared and I was convinced I was being hunted and I cared too much about all of you to let that happen because of me, and it was selfish—“

“Spy,” Scout said, and it took all the strength that Spy had just to look at him, and there were a lot of emotions on his face just then. He saw realization, for one. Shock, astonishment maybe.

And for the first time in maybe his entire life, Spy decided that he just needed to be honest. 

“I’m your father, Jeremy,” Spy croaked.

Silence. Long, long silence. In the far distance, gunshots and explosions and yelling, soft enough that he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination.

“You gonna try and say some kind of cool line, now, too?” Scout asked, and his voice was sharp enough to sting, and Spy winced at it. “Some kind of bullshit about how it, it was for my own good? Or that it’s—that you always cared from far away or some shit, that it was better this way? Gonna ask me to fuckin’ forgive you, here on your deathbed?”

“No, I am not,” Spy replied, voice faint. “I know there is nothing I can say to make it up to you. Words are insufficient.” He breathed deeply and forced down the instinct that was telling him to cough. “But I would rather not leave you wondering forever. I thought... this was better than nothing.”

Scout made a noncommittal noise. Silence.

“I get the distinct impression that you are angry with me,” Spy managed.

“Duh, I’m mad at you. Jesus fuck, you have no clue how mad I am at you. But I’m not...” Scout paused to think over his words. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at... old you. The you who ran off. And... I dunno. Kinda seems like you hate that guy too.”

“Very much,” Spy confirmed.

“Yeah. I dunno. I guess... I dunno.” Scout paused for a long moment. “And... maybe this is better than nothing, I guess. Because... it’s not the same or nothin’, but... I dunno. At least I know now. And... at least I know what my dad’s like now. That’s something.” 

Silence. Spy managed a nod, but not words.

When Scout spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically level. “You’re gonna die here, aren’t’cha, Spy?”

“Oui. I have no doubt in my mind,” Spy sighed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure Scout could hear it.

Scout was quiet for a minute. He moved to pull Spy’s hand off of his shirt (not that it was difficult), and for one terrifying moment Spy thought he was about to just drop Spy’s hand and stand up and leave him to rot in some hallway on an uncharted island where he would never be found. His vision was darkening rapidly, and he didn’t think he had the strength to try and stop him again, or that it would even work.

But instead Scout clasped Spy’s hand in his own and held it tight to his chest, squeezing Spy’s shoulder beneath his hand. “Run hell, asshole,” Scout said with the slightest of smiles, and it was so like Scout to be joking just then, to be trying to comfort him just then even if it was in his own way, to find the most indirect, roundabout method of letting Spy know that things were okay. And it made Spy laugh, and laughing was the last thing that Spy remembered.

-

He saw the last of the color drain from Spy’s face, the way the muscles there slowly went slack, and after a long moment he moved the hand from Spy’s shoulder to check for a pulse. He shifted to try again three times, not positive he was doing it right, before realizing, no. He was definitely doing this right. Spy was dead.

He let his own hand drop, then carefully laid down Spy’s.

Man. Twenty-seven fuckin’ years, and he finally finds his dad, and it’s Spy. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Spy would find a way to escape that kind of conversation and never look back, but he was a little surprised that his solution was apparently dying.

...

That wasn’t that funny.

Scout leaned back, scrubbed at his face with his hand, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Conflicted emotions. Conflicted thoughts.

Jesus, he should’ve seen it. That dumb dream he’d had back at Heavy’s house when he’d almost died, the stupid jokes Spy kept making about his Ma and the suspicious amount of information Spy had about him, way more than was probably on any official record. And the weird shit Heavy had been saying to him, and all the times Spy stuck his neck out for him when he really didn’t have to—

He didn’t think it was obvious enough for him to guess, but it was definitely obvious enough to suspect.

...So being an asshole ran in the family, huh?

He sat back on his heels.

...His Ma always said they had similar eyebrows. And their eyes in general, apparently. Ears. The mask made it kinda hard to tell.

The mask.

For a few seconds, Scout really genuinely considered taking the mask off.

This was his dad. Ma apparently lost the few pictures she had of him years ago, and this was his only chance. If he didn’t look now, he’d never really know what his dad looked like. Not in a real way. And didn’t he deserve to know? Hadn’t he earned this?

But he couldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. That was a kind of disrespect he couldn’t stoop to, not even to a dead guy.

He didn’t know why, but he felt himself tearing up.

If he made it out of this alive, he made a promise to himself. He was gonna talk to Miss P—those two were friends, right?—and he was gonna find out more about Spy. He’d hire a private eye if he had to, he’d spend every penny of his Tom Jones money figuring out everything he could. Spy hadn’t given him a lot to work with, but it was something. It was enough.

He wiped his eyes, rocked forward to stand, shook himself. For a second he thought about getting Medic, seeing if he could work his magic, but he’d only seen Sniper for a minute, only long enough for him to say that coming back to life was a one-time deal. He took a deep breath and turned, starting to walk down the hallway. Running off felt wrong just then.

Maybe God was looking out for him, just then, because that meant he hadn’t turned the corner down the hall, which meant he heard the feeble little cough behind him and could turn around, could see that Spy had a hand lifted.

A pause to process.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Scout scathed in the angriest voice he could manage, even as he felt tears leap into his eyes.

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #5

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Iolite of Cloudy Skies

Iolite. Its Japanese name was “blue flower stone”. The gem was blue with a purple tint stronger than that of a sapphire and had a unique viscosity that made it seem as if it was coated with a bit of dew. The level of hardness was seven. It was called iolite when treated as a gemstone, but when treated as a type of mineral, it was also called cordierite. It was an eccentric stone, which also appeared to have a grayish brown color instead of blue depending on the angle that one looked at it. Etc., etc.

“What happened, Seigi? Your eyes are dead.”

“How can I put it...? Surfeit, I guess.”

“Haah?”

I couldn’t memorize the stones’ names. They were too many.

The client who left just now had come because they wanted to see many sorts of blue stones, so Richard’s treasure box was packed with a great variety of blues. There were sapphires, of course, and also tanzanites, lapis lazuli, blue chalcedonies and this iolite.

Half a year before I had started working part-time in Etranger, the image I had of gemstones was limited to things such as diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds, I believed. Now I knew about the existence of a stone named zircon, which shone in the same way as a diamond, and also knew about the spinel, which was red like a ruby, as well as that the color of sapphires was not just blue, having a wide range from purple to yellow, and I had seen transparent jades that were impossible to tell apart from emeralds.

If I had as much knowledge of minerals as Tanimoto-san, I would’ve managed to sort stones inside my head by the differences the in chemical composition of each, but unfortunately, I was unfamiliar with such things, and I currently didn’t have enough enthusiasm or willpower to study them. If I were to explain figuratively, it felt like going out to hunt for clams at a beach, and when you innocently dove into the lake, you’d see the Mariana Trench spreading out below. It was a beautiful world, thus also too wide and too deep. And endless. To a terrifying extent.

When I told him roughly this, Richard laughed, the depths of his throat trembling with giggles. “It is not as if you are aiming to obtain a GIA or FGA qualification or anything, right? Isn’t it all right for you to observe as much as you like?”

“That might be the case, but...”

I found myself thinking that it was a waste.

After all, I’d be on my knees listening as Richard went, in earnest, through the trouble of introducing all kinds of stones to me one by one. I often heard from my senpais that “job hunting is a connection for people”, so I felt sorry that my connection with stones remained scoreless. Regardless, it wasn’t like I was suddenly going to get any smarter.

As I said this, Richard laughed again and beckoned me with a hand gesture. He then took something out of his suit’s pocket. One of those subdivision vinyl bags that I’d often see when he was handling jewels in the back room. It seemed there was an iolite inside. There was a label stuck to the bag packed with absorbent cotton, and something was written on it in horizontal letters. “Viking sunstone,” it read. Vikings? Like the ones that you’d imagine wearing horned helmets, carrying axes and coming from the sea on a ship? As I asked for confirmation, the jeweler nodded with a “precisely”.

“The words written on this label are associated with the former ‘purpose’ of the iolite. In the past, people used iolites as sun stones.”

“‘Used’ them as ‘sun stones’...?”

I didn’t understand anything from A to Z. What did that mean? For starters, why was gem of such a cold-looking color made into a stone of the sun?

Before I even had a breach to ask, the beautiful shopkeeper began talking, a smile ghosting his lips, “You might already know this, but a portion of the people residing in the current Britain are descendants of those who went through the Norman Conquest that began around the ninth century - in other words, of the Vikings. They were famous for having the skills to travel long distances, which was unusual at the time, so Seigi. If you were someone who travels the sea for long periods, how would you know your way?” Richard asked me.

A means to know the cardinal directions in the open sea. So it was a situation where there’d be no piece of land to act as a mark. The only thing I could use in such a case was a magnet. No, wait. Richard had said earlier that it was the ninth century. The compass would be invented only much later. I recalled memorizing that this was the invention that triggered the Age of Discovery back in high school for history class. If so, I recalled the words on the label. “Sunstone”. Yeah, it connected.

“They knew the directions by using the stone of the sun?”

“Good for you. Exactly. Isn’t it clear?”

“K-Kinda!”

“Then, what about under cloudy skies, when the sun is not visible, Mr. Enlightened Part-Timer?”

Speaking of which, the weather changed easily at sea. I had also heard that England was a country where the skies tended to be overcast. Bad weather must be frequent in those coastal waters. If the sky stayed cloudy for three or four days, what should I do? Was there nothing more that could be done at sea?

When I made a puzzled face, Richard smiled as though he had hit the nail on the head, his white hands displaying the iolite under a fluorescent light. “For instance, let’s try to put a mark on any of this iolite’s faceted sides with ink. Another one on a different side. On sunny days, we would record in which direction we can see the sun from one of these two points at given times, and on cloudy days, we would look for parts where the two points overlap. When doing so, since this stone can detect even the faintest light, we would be able to tell the sun’s position,” he said.

“So we can know the position of light with that stone...? Then couldn’t it be any other stone?”

“Light refracts. If it were passing through thick clouds, the human eye would find its shine in a different direction from the sun’s actual position. Iolites acted as polarized lenses, so to speak. By using this stone, the sailors could tell the correct position of the sun. Yet the most famous sunstone is not iolite, but a type of refraction stone called ‘Iceland spar’.”

A polarized lens. Now he was talking about physics? But I did remember the stuff about light refraction. Got it; so that was why it was a “stone of the sun”.

“I don’t get it very well, but I feel the gemstone romance from it. I like that kinda thing,” I said enthusiastically, Richard giving me a calm smile.

“You do get it. Just as you said, you ‘don’t understand stones very well but like them either way’. That is exactly why your eyes were open, so you thought only about how far your destination was and felt your teeth set on edge at it. You mustn’t expect to be able to understand everything overnight. Go steady, without rushing. Do not waver at the impatience stuck back-to-back to your ambitions. That is different from having no one to depend on due to not knowing where you are headed. The hardest times are probably the ones when you have no idea where you should go, but you know the exact position of the sun.”

So, in short, I knew exactly where I wanted to be?

While I remained quiet, Richard shrugged and added, “Of course, this is a metaphor. Even if little by little, the stones should definitely be leaving a trace inside you. Aren’t you supposed to be treasuring this instead of chasing after what goes away?”

Lastly, Richard threw in the trivia that, in the world of power stones, the iolite was said to be a stone that showed people the “right direction”. Taking the backbone of it into consideration, that was indeed a convincing talk. But more than that...

“It’d be great if you were by my side forever.”

“Hah?”

“You’re an expert at noticing what’s troubling other people, aren’t you? I really think you’re a handy guy, like a compass. Aah, ‘the world’s most beautiful compass’, huh?”

“Those are quite irrational words, on top of being illogical. You were born in Japan, raised in Japan and aspire to become a public servant of Japan, so why are you calling an English jeweler a ‘compass’?”

“Well, I don’t plan to ask you about how to prepare for the public servant exams, but I can rely on you when I run into bigger problems, right?”

Richard sighed with a face of thorough dismay. I could understand how he felt. This was like a child in nursery school saying, “It’d be great if my teacher could always be there to help me out.” Long story short, I was acting spoiled. Even though he was my superior at work.

“That’s right; about the custard pie that today’s costumer brought, it looks like it’s quick to expire. Wanna eat it? I’ll make some tea.”

“If you would. Aah, the sugar...”

“Holding back on it this month, right? I know.”

“Help me with half of it. The amount of sugar in it concerns me.”

“Leave it to me.”

This guy was truly good at leading the mood around, and the same applied for the not-too-straightforward way that he phrased himself when recommending gemstones to the customers. Apparently, he thought I was feeling down.

I cut the crunchy pie in half while the tea leaves boiled, then shared it with Richard in the reception room and we both ate it. Covered with powdered sugar, the pie was a dangerous white little thing, as the colorless powder could scatter around from the pie’s surface just by us breathing on it a tiny bit, so the snack time turned into a moment of silence. I felt like laughing at the much too surreal sight several times, but if I happened to cause a big damage to the beautiful shopkeeper’s high-grade suit by doing that, my pay would be reduced. In the end, I ate the pie entirely while looking at the wall.

On the way back home that day, as I looked up at the night sky, I thought about the Vikings of over a thousand years ago. It was said that they were after new lands. What about me? Where was I headed? Would there ever be a day when I would fall into a philosophical concern, like, “I have no idea where I’m trying to go”? Perhaps Richard too? I insolently prayed that the stones may help us out at least in times like those.

Stars were beginning to twinkle in the purplish-blue night sky. There was no doubt that the stars appearing in the sky had not changed ever since the Vikings’ era. Thinking about that as I walked, I mistook one of the streets I should have turned. I had the feeling that I heard Richard’s voice, telling me to mind at least my own steps. I get it, geez.

I decided to wait patiently for the benefits of the stone. It was best for something like that not to happen, but there was no guarantee that both of us wouldn’t lose our ways at the same time one day.

Finding out about Harry getting the movie role 🥺🥺🥺

No matter how many times you told him not to worry, he did.

You supposed it was only human nature. Everyone had a little worry from time to time. However, with Harry it always seemed to be tenfold.

He would channel his worry in many ways, depending on whatever news he was waiting for. Sometimes he would be deep and brooding, going into himself and becoming a one word answer kind of guy.

Other times he would busy himself with the most menial of tasks. That three mile run he had been putting off earlier in the week would now become between a five to seven mile run and something he absolutely had to do for his own benefit.

The list of groceries that you were going to go out for on Sunday - the ones stuck to your fridge - were now his responsibility to pick up when he went out on a petrol run to fill up his car (that he wasn’t going to drive considering he couldn’t really go anywhere in that present moment of time).

Or the song he had pencilled time in to finish now became important enough that he couldn’t wait for the studio time he had booked and his own recording outlet in the comfort of his home was more than enough to complete the job.

He’d had his deep and brooding moment at the beginning of the week, making it so you were lucky if you managed to get a grunt out of him. You rode that wave out together, neither a comment said from the other about arguably his childish display.

Part of you didn’t expect him to react in such a way. The tape he had sent weeks ago had been well received but he had been gently let down. Beaten by a better man. At first it stung, but it wasn’t like he would be down and out without the opportunity.

He took it on the chin. Brushed himself off and proudly stuck out his chest. Moved onto the next thing, just like before.

“‘S a bit shit but I’ll live,” he admitted, swallowing thickly before taking a larger pull from his wine than its predecessor, as he curled up with you on the couch in knackered old sweats that would’ve been worth binning because of how threadbare and hole-y they were.

His comment has been out of the blue, Harry choosing not to talk more about the situation after he had given you the news that he wasn’t the man for the role. Nonetheless you were ready to engage in the conversation now if it were needed.

“Not going to buy it off Sky movies when it finally appears on their listing though?”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

You’d laughed about it. Shared smiles over his whispered experience of recording an audition rather than entering a room and feeling clammy palms like he had done for previous opportunities that he had put himself forward for.

He had talked and talked about scenarios that you knew because you had experienced them with him too. About the line running and how much of a massive ballache it could be at times, invasive and often overbearing due to how all-encompassed he became. Still you let him speak as if these scenarios were new to your ears because somewhere inside you knew that was what he needed.

Then the moment was gone, and the train picked up steam for something else like it always did. Where he was jumping into a car and driving across Europe with his friends, promising you within his goodbye kisses that “‘s not just a piss up wi’the lads” and that he was actually going strictly for business.

And that was it.

You thought it was forgotten.

Pulled into a false sense of security when you savoured the way the world around you had made it so the two of you had time to really connect. To enjoy each other without the apologies around rushed kisses because he was being pulled away, again.

Hand movements slower as you undressed each other in the dusk of the evening or pitch black of the early hours rather than desperately seeking the missed feeling of warmed europhia. Basking in the beauty that came with sluggish pulls and desperate pleas.

That was until he was sitting at the table over breakfast, one bleak morning, hanging on to the words that had been shared between himself and his manager.

All of it fading so easily.

His face was pensive as he listened, free hand dropping his fork and moving to push through his bed head before the backs of his fingers roughly rubbed at the facial hair that was scattered along his jawline and cheeks.

You tried not to stare for too long, not wanting to be caught in your eagerness to eavesdrop. Hands somewhat shaky as they buttered at toast, and cut the crusty bread in half ready to bite into when you felt your hunger return.

The sugar of your tea wasn’t quite sweet enough, as you lifted your gaze to watch Harry continue to listen and sipped at the warm drink.

“Knew it had gone well but didn’t think it’d gone that well,” he replied to whatever Jeff or Alex, or some else, had been saying to him over the other end of the line.

Then his smile broke across his lips.

“She said that,” he paused, blowing out a huge breath of air partly from relief but also hearing such high praise. “‘S good, ‘s great even. Nice to hear.”

Something inside you knew he was gone. Already whisked off somewhere else in all but body. People around him putting him on flights to take him away from you, in clothes that didn’t fit but could be tailored to him to look like his second skin. Literally made for him.

His hair was bound to be the first thing to make him look less like your Harry, in a way that was odd to the eye but weirdly pleasing to your wildest imagination and deviant personality which was known to rear itself between the two of you from time to time.

The feeling, mixed with those sudden rush of thoughts, was only solidified when his eyes darted over towards you but moved away just as quickly.

“‘Ow am I feeling?” He looked at you again, this time met with your buttering your other slice of toast. “Like I’ve got some celebrating to do.”

Harry chuckled boisterously, clearly amused by what had been said to him over the other end of the line. It was enough to make him successful to catch your gaze once more. “Not quite cracked open the champagne yet, mate no. By the sounds of it think you’re doing that for the two of us.”

He paused, “Careful you don’t drink away your managerial cut of the opening weekend, ‘s only in pre-production.”

With a lick to his lips, Harry looked at you, a soft raise to his eyebrows when he saw the realisation lace your features and your eyes widened over at him. Then his lips smiled in the way that they had before when he must’ve received praise.

Only this time it was you and your admiration that he found himself enjoying.

A small bite down onto his bottom lip let you know he was shying away from feeling his full elation and letting you share in it too. You couldn’t stop yourself from removing the napkin from your lap and scrunching it against the dining table as you pushed out of your seat and walked around to him on the opposite side.

Remaining seated, Harry looked up at you as he switched the phone to the opposite side of his face and let your reach for him, encouraging his temple to fall against your stomach.

Fingers wove through his hair, not knowing if it was ever going to be this long again and your lips found the top of his head. Inhaling deeply you pressed a long kiss into his chestnut strands, haphazard but silky regardless of how unkempt he appeared. You whispered your words of congratulations to him so lowly that they were only shared between you whether a third party was still present on the phone.

His arm was wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him and squeezing gratefully at the curve of your hips as you showered him with kisses.

“Call me later about all tha’,” he requested, lids hooded from the relaxing touch of your fingers. “‘S too early for logistics. ‘M going.”

Phone tossed to the table, Harry pushed back on his chair creating enough space to encourage you down onto his lap without much fight from you. He appreciated it, aware just as much as you that slow mornings like these were now going to happen no more than a handful of times for the rest of the year.

He embraced the way you fell against him, forehead against his temple and warm breath fanning against his cheek. One hand splayed out against your lower back while the other wrapped up and gently held your head against his.

You wanted him to hold you, just as much as you wanted to hold him. Legs heavy against his thighs and arms tight against the tops of his shoulders as your hands rubbed at the parts of his back that you could get to.

A stillness came over you that was heavy with emotion. Bittersweet.

Breathing deeply you had to let him know just how thrilled you were of all his successes. Lips gently gliding against his dribbled cheek, you found the shell of his ear and whispered, “If only you knew how fucking proud I am of you.”

His fingers that were buried into your locks, lightly scratched at the back of your head. A softly breathed chuckled omitting from his chest, “Haven't even told you I got it yet. Could be summat rubbish.”

“Don’t have to, can just tell,” you commented, pulling away and watching him tilt his head back to look at you with his hooded but shiny eyes and lopsided lips that danced with the softest of smiles.

You stayed quiet for a while as you gently ran your fingers over his features. He let you take your time, doing the same with just his eyes. Taking a breath he spoke in a soft tone, “How’d you know?”

“Less frowny, less grumpy man-child .”

“Hey,” he whined in response, quickly after. Face scrunching with his complaint. You breathed a laugh, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his lips which Harry only deepened. Pleased hum heard when you allowed him to do so.

Breaking your lips, you both lingered looking at each other through blurred vision and a mixture of squashed noses and deep breathing. Once his breath was caught Harry spoke his thanks softly in return.

“Does this mean said movie can go back onto my Sky Movies list to purchase when it becomes available?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Negan Imagine ~ “Exile”

Summary: After months of surviving the apocalypse together in the wilderness and finally taking the next step in their relationship, the Reader wakes up to find Negan gone, only a note of him left...

Request: Imagine inspired by “Exile” by Taylor Swift (lyrics can be found at the end!) Enjoy!

Night was slowly but surely falling over the campsite, only the flickering light of the campfire nearby enlightening the darkness. From afar, you could see the guard sitting at the flames, poking into the coal while some more sparks flew into the air, lightning up for a moment until they melted into one with the dark. You shifted over the makeshift bed in the large car that served as your bedroom for now, cuddling into the couple pillows you’d been able to get a hold on in the cabin, where some of the others were sleeping. It had been about three days since this place was your newest home, equipped with the small cabin by a calm river, some abandoned cars, overgrown beets that must’ve once been used for vegetables and an old but functioning outdoor shower that only an hour ago splattered clear water onto your skin and had reminded you of those little daily luxuries from before that you were truly missing. A rustling sound echoed through the night, loud enough for your instincts to kick in and let you jolt up, just to see a tall figure rounding the car, his silhouette enlightening for a moment in the warm light of the camp fire before he got to the lid of the car. A click sounded through the air before the lid slowly opened and Negan glimpsed right at you, a grin spreading over his face while his still slightly wet hair was falling into his face. “Welcome back to our luxurious suite”, you chuckled as you shuffled a little to the side, making enough room for him to crawl inside. “Good to be back”, he grinned with a wink as he climbed into the car, closing the lid behind him before he moved to your side. “Oh this is so fuckin’ comfy”, Negan groaned as he let himself fall next to you into the sheets, sleepily grinning at you as he cuddled into one of the pillows „Mhmm“, you mumbled, moving to lay on your side to face him in the dim light,“You think we can stay here a little longer?“ “I hope so, I’m digging that shower!”, he laughed, grasping the edge of the large blanket that was hugging you to tuck himself in as well. “Me too”, you mumbled with a chuckle as a wider grin formed on Negan’s lips. “Yeah I could tell, you took forever”, he said, tease swinging through his deep voice, provoking you just enough to shove his chest playfully. “Wow, says the right guy”, you laughed, grinning at him while he moved to take your hand that had just landed on his body into his hand to give it a small squeeze, ”how long have you just been there?” He just shook his head, still keeping your hand in his, enough to let a wave of warmth wash over you before a good bit of roguishness started to mix into his glance.“Y’know to save some water we could just shower together next time.” “Oh god”, you called out with a groan, a laugh rumbling through you as you glimpsed at him,”Your pick up lines have been more creative before, that’s some fuckboy shit.” “‘Cause that was no pick up line that was a serious offer!”, he defended himself, though the grin he was temporarily trying to suppress kept tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Sure”, you snickered with a nod, still feeling how the warmth was lulling you more in the longer he held onto you. “You should come here”, Negan mumbled as he tugged softly on you hand and glimpsed at the spot right next to him with another grin,”Unless you wanna hop under the shower together after all.” “Guess Martin’s there now, bet he wouldn’t find that so funny”, you responded with a chuckle, trying to keep the heat that was rushing into your body as well as your mind under control that would be too happy to imagine Negan under the shower now, while you scooted over to him into your usual sleeping spot. “Oh he’d get one hell of a show, can’t imagine he’d complain about that”, Negan rasped against your skin as soon as you cuddled against him, feeling him wrapping his arms around you and giving your waist a soft but teasing squeeze. You chuckled once more, part of you trying to cover up how much effect his voice and his words had on you while you hooked your leg over his hip, cuddling a little closer to his side while a deep, content growl tumbled through Negan’s chest. It took seconds for this warm, comfy feeling to set in, allowing you to feel safe  right there in his arms. He had that ability to make you feel safe like no other and you couldn’t even pinpoint why, he just needed to put his arms around you and you felt safe, just like now, even though you were sleeping in a car in the middle of the woods. You’d known when he’d joined the groups nearly a half year ago that he surely was someone special, with that very specific kind of humor and the colorful language of his but you hadn’t thought that he’d become to you what he was now; one of the very most important people to ever step into your life. You’d barely been able to open up to anyone after losing all your loved ones right at the start of the shit show, after having to helplessly see them being torn apart, but Negan had been able to help you get some of the parts back you’d thought you’d lost forever. You could trust again, you could belly laugh again, you could truly bond again and feel pure happiness stream through your body. He’d become your homeland, your best friend, your very own safe haven and you knew that you were his too. You could feel Negan pressing a soft kiss against your temple, letting a warm wave wash over your back while you leaned a little into his touch, enjoying the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubbly beard. That’s how far you’d gone until now, cuddling, teasing and kisses to your forehead. You wanted more, fuck you wanted way more but there was a small part of you that had told you to go slow for the longest time, though it was becoming smaller and smaller with each touch of Negan and by now, it was barely existent anymore.  You moved in, feeling how Negan’s hand grasped yours and caressed it softly, taking it fully into his as your eyes dropped down to the back of his hand and his knuckles where small, nearly faded scars, that had been boasting wounds months ago covered his skin.  “They’re almost gone”, you mumbled, gently rubbing your thumb over the light scars remembering the night he got them vividly. It was shortly after he had joined and while you’d felt drawn to him from the beginning, this night had given you a first true possibility to feel safe with someone again.  It had stormed so badly back then, leaving your group running through the dark forest in hope to find shelter from the dead and the forces of nature. You could still remember being split off with Negan from the rest as a group of walkers approached, could see yourself tripping in the dark, wet underwood on a hillside that left you tumbling down to its foot, with sprained ankles that didn’t allow you to run from the dead. He’d stayed with you, even though he’d barely known you at this point, knowing very well that he’d had to fight the dead alone if he wouldn’t leave you, and risk his own life. He’d killed them all, one by one with his bat that was all wet from the rain that let it slip more than just once in his hands, slitting parts of his hands with the barbed wire that was covering it, leaving his knuckles bloody. He hadn’t stopped once, hadn’t attempted to flee once and leave you alone regardless of how risky it got and once they were all laying dead on the muddy ground, he’d propped you and helped the both of you get back to the rest.  You sure had to deal with the sprained ankles for longer than you liked and the agony they had given you had been a pain in the ass, but besides that, this night had given you the chance to finally feel like you could fully start to count on someone again and be sure that they wouldn’t leave you, regardless of how tricky the situation got. Negan was there, he’d always been there after that night, growing your trust until the both of you were as good as inseparable.  “Hmm”, you could hear him mumble, squeezing your hand softly back while you still glimpsed at his large hand around yours.  “Y’know I know you can take care of yourself“, he started, keeping your hand in his as he spoke back up, ”But hell, if another situation like that would come up, I’d do it all over again. Even if those damn scars wouldn’t fade”, He mumbled, just before another chuckle left his lips “I guess they actually make me look like the dangerous motherfucker I am huh?“ „Very dangerous“, you laughed, though a wide smile was pressing into the corners of your lips while you moved a little up, enough to glimpse at him in the dim light. “I meant it though“,he said, moving his hand from yours to stroke some loose strands of your hair back while some more heat began to rise in your body the longer his eyes stayed fixed on yours, a smirk growing on his face once more,“Always gonna be there, ready to fuck anybody up who wants to mess with my girl.“ “I know”, you mumbled, trying to not show too much what these last two words were doing to you when they slipped out of his lips,”I’m always gonna be there for you too. We’re a team.“ Negan nodded slowly, his fingers still caressing slightly through your hair while the small grin stayed stuck on his lips. "We‘re gettin‘ sappy now, huh?“, he grinned, a rough laugh falling from his lips while you could tell that your body was responding more and more to his touch, to the feeling of his body pressing against yours and the feelings of how his rough fingertips stroke slowly through your hair.  „I don’t mind it“, you mumbled, your eyes still staying fixed on his as his hand moved down to caress his thumb along your jaw before it traveled to the back of your neck, curling his palm around it while his fingertips kept circling over your skin. Slowly but surely he started to let your heart pump faster as nearly instinctively your hand started to move from the spot on his warm chest up to his jaw, almost mirroring his movements earlier as your fingertips teased over the short salt and pepper stubble.  You could feel yourself holding your breath as both of your gazes were fixed on one another and the tension that had lingered for the longest between you started to sky rocket. Your body started to tingle, the longing of more of him started to become even stronger as his eyes started to drop to your lips, letting your heart jump as you could feel him putting a gentle pressure onto the back of your neck, careful and just enough to slowly guide you down to him. You let him, moved almost instinctively closer as his warm breath started to softly hit your skin, giving you the feeling that right now, right here was the perfect time to finally take things further. Your mind shut down, handing you over to your instincts and the longing within you as you closed your eyes and could finally feel Negan’s lips brushing against yours, soft at first, as if part of him was trying to make sure that you were fully on board.  And like hell you were.  You hummed into him as you first felt his lips against yours, their softness combining perfectly with the roughness of his stubbly beard while heat streamed through your body, allowing you to dive deeper into the beautiful trance Negan’s lips were putting you into. He groaned against you as his kisses grew hungrier, going from soft and careful to longing and more demanding while you moved closer, caressing your fingers over his jaw. He was leading you, taking all possible insecurities away as he was kissing you loving and rough at the very same time intensifying the excited tingle all over your body until you were out of breath. You were shivering, laying still half on top of him as your foreheads rested against one another, trying to catch your breath again while Negan’s fingers still caressed over your skin and you still couldn’t fully believe what had happened. “Shit, I’ve wanted to do this for so long”, Negan mumbled still heavily breathing against your skin as soon as he got his speech back, already slowly pulling you back down to him, enough to caress his lips over yours again, hungrier with every passing second. You immediately melted back against him as he kept you in this little bubble of happiness and tightened his embrace while he slowly started to roll you on your back, underneath him. You hummed as soon as you felt his weight pressing in on you, felt his hand moving to your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek while your fingers entangled in his dark curls. You were filled with pure happiness, felt so unbelievable comfortable and excited while his caresses felt so new and familiar at the very same time.  For a second, Negan’s lips left yours, still hovering over them as the urge within you moved up to get some more of his intoxicating kisses. “Someone wants some more”, Negan groaned against your lips as you let out a chuckle. “Mhmm”, you mumbled, already feeling his lips pressing against yours again as you let out another hum,”Is that bad?” “You’re kidding me? It’s the fuckin’ opposite of bad”, he halted for a moment, moving away just enough to glimpse roguishly at you, licking his lips before he winked at you. “Looks like my pick up lines worked after all, Sweetheart”, he chuckled, squeezing your waist teasingly,”Creative or not.” “Oh don’t get too cocky”, you mumbled back, shaking your head with a small laugh as you leaned back in, a bit more confident now as Negan dipped his head back down to you and met your lips with another kiss. Just then you fully understood that this was real, that you were actually kissing Negan, that this wasn’t a dream. As soon as you felt his lips back on yours you allowed him to wrap you up in his scent and touch while you let yourself completely fall, more and more with each kiss. You were in love with him, there really was no way to deny it anymore. You were utterly and deeply in love with him and all these kisses only made you realize it more and more with each further touch.  You stayed like this, entangled with one another, kissing and relishing in each other, releasing all the tension that had build up during this whole last time until you found yourself wrapped up in his arms, with his lips brushing against your forehead and his fingers caressing over your skin. You could barely think of any other moment you’d felt so at ease and happy, almost overwhelmed with positive emotions that kept you in some kind of hazy high. And slowly, you started to fall asleep in his arms, cozied up to him and relaxed, as if you weren’t laying in the back of a car in the middle of the woods but the safest place on earth.

Your sleep was calm and deep as it could be until Negan’s softly shifting body started to wake you up, feeling the tension that was laying over him that was usually only present when yet another nightmare had struck either of you. You shifted a bit, still half asleep as you slowly opened your eyes and could hear him letting out a tense breath. “You’re okay?”, you mumbled drowsily, cuddling a little closer up to him while a small yawn slipped out of your lips. “Yeah”, he mumbled, nodding slowly before he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead,”Just woke up for a moment.” “Nightmare again?”, you asked, glimpsing a little up at him as you could feel him shaking his head a little. “Nah, not this time”,his drowsy voice mumbled back before he brushed his lips against your skin again and pulled you a little closer ,”It’s all good, bet I’m gonna fall right back asleep. Just need ya to c’mere” “Alright, that’s doable”, you mumbled with a small, sleepy chuckle back, leaning a little in to press a kiss against his stubbly jaw before you nuzzled your nose back into the warm curve of his neck, and huddling closer up to him. “Sleep tight, Sweetheart”, you heard him mumble lowly, his warmth and scent already getting you back to this comfy bubble that allowed the sleep to slowly wash back over you. For another moment, you waited, assuring yourself that he didn’t have something to talk about after all before you could feel him smoothing your body against his once more, while let your hand caress softly over the center of his broad chest, figuring that simply staying cuddled up to him would be the best way to help him right now. “You too”, you only mumbled then, your voice a bit muffled as you got lulled into the comforting darkness of sleep, little by little until it had fully wrapped itself around you and pulled you into its depths. 

Soft sunlight was falling through the windows of the car as you started to drift out of your sleep, shifting uncomfortably over the sheets, irritated by the lack of Negan’s warmth around you. Tensing your brows confusedly you opened your eyes, slowly getting used to the early morning light while a yawn left your lips. “Negan?”, you mumbled drowsily, still not completely conscious as your sleepy glance started to search for him only to find yourself alone in the car. Grumbling irritatedly to yourself you slowly started to sit up, glimpsed around you and outside of the car, spotting part of your group, about four of the others, who were already sitting around the now extinguished campfire, eating some breakfast while the rest was likely still sleeping in the tents and the cabin. Negan wasn’t among them, which just let you assume that he’d simply made a trip to the makeshift-bathroom and had tried to not wake you up in the process. Shrugging and guessing that he was likely about to come back to you in a little you rubbed your eyes and let yourself sink back into the pillows, deciding to get some more sleep as long as you had the chance before your eyes caught a small piece of folded paper laying on his side of the mattress. Furrowing your brows confusedly you reached towards the sheet, grabbing it as another yawn slipped out of your lips. You folded it open, not thinking much of it before your eyes wandered over the words in its middle, and from one moment to another, those words turned your world upside down.

I’m sorry, I really am But it’s better like this, believe me You’re better off this way

Nausea flooded your body, tightening your ribcage and throat, cutting off your breath as you stared at the sentences and felt an unbearable ache traveling down your arms, letting you shake vehemently as soon as you started to realize what was happening. He was gone. Negan was gone. He had left you.  For just another moment you hoped that this was a bad joke, that he would pop up by the car and yell that he was just joking but as you started to tremble harder and looked panicked around the car, you found all his stuff missing, from his beloved bat to his backpack. He was gone. ”No, no...”, you mumbled shaking to yourself, grabbing the paper tighter as the lump in your throat grew bigger, forcing you to wince while only the shock that was stuck in you kept you from breaking out in tears. You started to read his words over and over again, found your glance swaying to the other parts of the paper that had been written onto but had been completely blacked out by uncountable black pen lines, only leaving his final version plastered in the middle. You couldn’t understand what was going on.  You couldn’t get it.  He’d kissed you last night. Everything had been as perfect as it could be. You’d been happy, right? He couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t.  You both were too close for him to just leave you out of the blue, vanish without any explanation and force you to never be able to see him again. He was your closest confidant, your best friend, the man you’d fallen for, and you’d thought that he felt the same about you. He wouldn’t do this to you, right? He knew how scared you were of losing someone else close to you, he knew how afraid you were of being abandoned. He wouldn’t do this to you, right? But he wasn’t here to prove it, instead, everything around you in these moments forced you to believe the opposite and slowly but surely realize that your worst nightmares were starting to become true. Negan was gone. He had packed his things while you’d slept. He had written this poor excuse of a note in what looked like the matter of a few minutes and then, then he’d left you. You felt like you were stuck in an impuissance, in a bubble of powerlessness, half of you unsure if this all was truly happening as this all rather felt like a bad film while the other half was already drowning in pain.  Your head was a total mess, your mind trying to make sense of all the intimate moments you’d shared with Negan in the past, with your growing relationship and the countless moments of closeness, and the situation you were confronted with right in these very moments.  How could he just leave you? After everything that had happened between the both of you, how could he just leave you out of the blue? ”Morning”, you suddenly heard a voice sound muffled through the closed lid of the car, letting you flinch up and shoot your eyes towards Tony, who was knocking softly on the window and lowered his head a little to glimpse inside, check if you were already awake. By the confused way he looked you could tell that he was expecting two people instead of just one to sit inside the car, and you could see him shaking his head softly before he reached down to open the lid up.ing  ”Morning, where’s Negan?”, he asked, stroking his blonde curls back to keep them from falling right into his face while you stared at him like a deer in headlights, still shaking. “He’s gone”, was all you could get to slip out of your lips, still holding onto the note as if your life depended on it while Tony’s brows started to furrow, as if he couldn’t quite get what was happening either. “What-” A blood-freezing scream cut him right off and spread a whole other tension all over your body within mere seconds. You grabbed your knife and shot outside of the car, only in your sleeping clothes and on bare feet as you followed Tony to the source of the screams and the nervous voices that started to mix with them, only to feel your heart skip another beat as you saw their source.  Pam was laying on the ground, clutching her throat as blood kept spewing out of the curve of her neck, turning her whole figure red while Thom dragged his knife out of the dead walker’s skull beside her.  “No...no!”, she gasped, her voice rasp and breathy, barely audible while you could see Janice moving in to hold her shaking body and heard the rest storming towards you. You stood there, like glued to the ground while you couldn’t fully get what was happening, could only feel new tears shooting into your eyes as you saw your friend bleeding out, still gasping for air though you knew that each one could be her last. Your dizziness got worse, everything around you became a blur again, the voices, the situation that played out in front of your eyes before loud, deadly growls ripped you out of your trance.  From one moment to another you could see walkers coming closer, attracted by the screams as they shuffled through the trees towards you. They ripped the safety lines of wire that were spun around the trees apart with their strength as a group, pushing further and while your head still didn’t get what was happening, your body’s instincts took over and made you react. You couldn’t count how often your knife dug into rotting skulls, one by one until they became too many, pushing further and further into the camp before you heard Janice calling for everyone to grab what you still could and flee.  You did, taking everything that felt necessary in these moments, slipping into your boots, grabbing your clothes, backpack and the note before you stormed towards the others only to hear more screams echoing through the air. “Run”, you could hear Thom scream as you turned around and saw walkers closing in on him, burying their teeth into his skin, starting to tear him apart before so many dead surrounded him that he disappeared within them. You could only feel how your legs began to move as soon as you realized that there was no way to save him anymore and  a feeling of excruciation pain spread out all over you and only the adrenaline kept you running.  You followed the rest that had made it, ran until your feet hurt, until your heavy breathing made it feel like it was cutting crannies into your throat, and until you had left the walkers and the bloody camp-side far behind yourself.

This day felt like a nightmare you were unable to wake up from.  No matter how much you tried to get it off, there was still some blood sticking to your hands when the night-sky was covering the firmament again and you found yourself sitting on a tree trunk by the bustling flames. Your new camp was far from the place you’d lost four of your friends, far from the place you’d last seen Negan and still, a piece of him was still there with you, laying in your hands. You were staring at his messy handwriting over and over again, at the blacked out spots and the sentences in the middle, trying to somehow find out what he could mean with them and what could hide behind the thick, black lines. You still hadn’t fully processed that he was gone, still expected him to come out of the woods towards you or stick his head out of one of the tents but with every passing moment and with every bit the stress and shock of this day beat retreat, the reality started to set in more.  You looked back at the note, seeing how the flames shed a warm light onto it while your eyes wandered over each word and letter. “It’s better like this”, “You’re better off this way”, what the fuck was this supposed to mean? It didn’t make any sense, not after what you’ve had in the prior night together. Did he actually just act like he enjoyed it and this was his shitty take on  “It’s not you, it’s me”? Did he really not feel like you felt for him? Why the hell would he say that you were better off this fucking way? You were miserable, nothing else. “You should just burn it”, you could hear Tony’s voice echoing through the air, letting you flinch a little as your glance shot up to him while he made his way over to you, pointing at the note ,”Try to forget him, he ain’t worth it.” He shook his head with a sigh, letting himself fall next to you onto the tree trunk while he bit a bit off of the stickbread that he was holding in his hand. “I always had the feeling that there was something off with him”, he mumbled, grimacing slightly as he glimpsed at the note, stroking some crumbs out of his blonde beard stubble ,”What a bastard.” You gulped, starting to fold the note, trying to fight the small part in you that hadn’t quite comprehended yet that Negan was someone else than you thought and still wanted to defend him. “Can we not talk about him?”, you asked, shifting uncomfortably as you buried the note back in your pocket, not yet ready to let go of it. Tony nodded, his eyes fixed on your hands as they zipped the pocket shut. “You want some?”, he then asked, holding the bread in his hands for a moment up before he pointed with it to the other side of the campfire,”We still got enough of it.” “Not hungry”, you shook your head, sure that if you’d try to eat something now you’d throw it back up in the very next moment ,”Thanks though.” “No problem”, he said as he got back on his feet and glimpsed to some of the others who were sitting by the tents back to you,”Y’know we got the guard shifts for tonight already sorted out. When you wanna sleep, you can do so, don’t have to wait for us to decide anymore.” “Okay, thanks”, you nodded, seeing how he tried to put a supportive smile on his lips before he reached down to give your shoulder a soft pat and made his way back to the rest, giving you some space.  You just wanted this day to be over, so maybe it wasn’t wrong to just go to your tent and try to shut your mind down and fall asleep, or at least try to. Your body was definitely exhausted enough to crave some sleep, all you had to do was get your thoughts under control. You finally got up from your spot on the tree trunk and strolled over to your tent, climbing over the ropes that held the other ones in the ground before you could climb into yours and zip it shut.  You had tried to make it as comfortable as you could with the things you had left and tried the same with yourself as you slipped into some more comfortable clothes, hoping that it would somehow trick you into feeling better.  You eventually cuddled into your sleeping bag and turned your jacket into a bundle, trying to use it as a provisory pillow. You could hear the note in the jacket’s pocket rustling a little as you shifted, bringing Negan back into your mind even though he’d never really left it.  Your throat started to tighten, along with your ribcage that allowed it to spread tension over you that began to seep inside, turning into agony that crawled up your whole body. And now that you were alone, now that everything was quiet around you, the bubble of shock and denial finally bursted, from one moment to another. Tears shot into your eyes as you breath grew heavier and your body started to tremble while your mind got tortured all over again, now as the full truth started to reveal itself and you couldn’t deny what had happened anymore. Negan had exiled you from his life.  Just like that.  And he’d known it. He’d known how much it had taken you to build trust up and let people in, he’d known how afraid you were of being abandoned or of losing someone else you loved.  And he’d still left you while you were sleeping, only leaving this shitty note behind and the only clear question you could form right now was asking for the “why”? Had you really just surmised everything about him? From his feelings for you to everything that made your whole relationship up? Had he really felt different last night and this whole thing had just been an act? Fuck, but he’d told you so much about himself, too much for it all to just be an superficial act, he’d told you basically his whole past and his regrets, he wouldn’t have done this if he hadn’t felt safe with you as well, right? There was this small part in you that tried to soothe your pain and told you that maybe he had only gotten scared after taking the next step with you. But if he had, why hadn’t he talked to you the same way you had talked about everything else, leaving you completely was just too extreme. This all just didn’t match. And with that, the devil on your shoulder started to whisper its painful remarks into your ear, turning all your thoughts even more toxic than they already were. Maybe he have had some feelings for you but the kisses had made him realize after all that you just weren’t it for him. Maybe you’d been completely deceived by him and had seen someone else in him than he actually was. He had to be, somehow at least. The Negan you’d known wouldn’t have left you like this, especially with the consequence that you would never see him again, not after all these months together, not after growing so close. But he had left, he had run away, he had exiled you from his life and he forced you to live with his decision, without any clear answers. Your thoughts were eating into you, tearing you up from the inside while hot tears started to roll down your cheeks, first silently before your small whimpers grew into sobs. Had you done something wrong? Had you repelled him? Were you really that unlovable that he felt like you didn’t even deserve to know why he didn’t want to be with you anymore? Was there something so wrong about you that made him suddenly not want you in his life anymore? Why the fuck had he left you? You were muffling your sobs, hoping that no one would hear you while more and more pain travelled through your body and kept you in a bubble of agony.  You couldn’t control your head anymore, it felt like your thoughts were stuck in a storm that raged through your head, strong enough to let you grow dizzy and make you feel like the tent was spinning around you. You tried your best to focus on one spot of its roof, keep you from losing control completely while the spinning got stronger, amplifying the nausea the pain had already elicited.  Your heart was hammering in your chest, so loudly that you felt like you could hear it while the nausea started to turn your stomach upside down. The pictures of Negan in your head stared to mix with the ones of your dead friends, of the blood on the forest ground and the metallic scent of it that reeked of death before your body took over and made you rush out of the tent. In the very last second you fell to your knees and felt your ribcage tightening as the bile and the very last bit of your stomach content pushed up your throat and spewed out of your mouth.  The bile was biting into the skin of your lips and made you tear up even more while the nausea kept clawing onto your throat until you hung violently shaking over the ground, bile and saliva dripping out of your mouth as your stomach finally stopped to contract.  You whimpered, only glad about the fact that no one seemed to have heard you before you forced yourself to slowly move back into the tent, still crying as you got your mouth clean and drunk the very last bit of your water to get the awful taste out of your mouth that would surely have let you throw up again. You ended up sitting in the tent, hugging your legs while the tears didn’t stop falling down your face, making you feel like the pain would never stop coming. You had lost the most important person in your life, and it wasn’t just about the fact that you’d lost the person you’d fallen in love with, you’d lost your best friend too.  And maybe, you thought, maybe there would have been a way for you to prevent it, or at least avoid yourself from ending up without answers, making up scenarios in your head that didn’t help you at all but just existed to further torture you. You should have stayed awake when you’d woken up last night, you should have asked further what had actually been wrong with him, maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation now if you had.  Maybe.  Everything was just a fucking maybe.  You would never get clear answers. You would never see Negan again.  And you wondered if you would ever be able to cope with that.  It didn’t get better after this night, not much at least. Time alone couldn’t heal all wounds, and the vast difference between your previous life and the one Negan forced you to continue now made it only more difficult for you to cope.  You were going from sleeping wrapped up in strong arms that made you feel safe and cozy to sleeping completely alone, left to fight your nightmares on your own, left to overthink each night about what you’d done wrong, what could be so unlovable about you that you’d be abandoned. You were going from joking around and walking laughing through the woods to bringing up the caboose, walking silently behind the others when you made your way through forests and fields. You were going from growing comfortable around people to becoming hostile and mistrusting of every act someone else did around you, of everything someone said and asked you.  You were growing numb and more sensitive at the very same time.  And most obviously, you were going from living back to purely surviving.  Back when Negan was around, you had finally felt like you were living again, and now, you were only surviving from one day to another. You were letting the hours pass from dawn until the moon was shining on the firmament and the whole process repeated itself. You were in your own bubble. Surviving, but that was it. Your hunger for answers kept you up most of the nights, now less than in the beginning, but still enough to hurt you. Sometimes you’d hoped to run into him, find exactly these answers to what had made him leave so you could find your peace, other times you hoped you would never have to see his face again and be reminded of the fact of how much he had deceived you. The latter lost most of the times, even if you had struggles to admit that. But the facts spoke a different language:  You still flinched when you saw a walker that had his height, stature and mere bodily resemblances, and even though there was a part in you that knew that Negan was someone who would survive almost everything, you had this urge to kill them each time and check that it truly wasn’t him. You still had the note. There were countless times you had wanted to toss it into the flames and see it turn into ashes, but you’d never managed too. You weren’t looking at it as often as in the beginning, trying to figure out what he’d meant or what he’d blacked out, but it still rested in your jacket’s pocket, as your eternal companion. You wished you could free yourself from all of this, wished you could trust, wished you could be open to others, but with leaving, with exiling you from his life from one moment to another, Negan had taken that from you. And there was a part of you that hated him for it more than you were able to put in words. Oddly enough there was this other part in you, this weird tiny part that still felt for him, or rather the image you’ve had of him. He hadn’t been who you thought he was, he hadn’t left if you’d been right about him, but there was this part that no matter how hard you tried, couldn’t comprehend that. There was this part that refused to believe that you were such a bad judge of character. And so, with all these contradictory thoughts and feelings raging through you, with the missing answers that wouldn’t allow your mind to get the peace it desperately needed, you couldn’t get over it, no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t heal and move on from what he’d done to you and you hated it. 

You lost more people over the coming months. Others joined here and there while you had to watch others being torn apart until you were the only survivor left of the original group, now surrounded by those who had joined far after Negan had left.  You closed yourself more and more off over time, those who still knew you before he left died, and those who joined never got to see more of you than they needed to accept you as a member of the group. You didn’t allow more. There was this part of your brain that had restructured itself, leading you to believe that when the person you’d been so incredibly close to over months was able to abandon you from one moment to another, there was no way you could trust anyone else to not leave you. Moreover, you didn’t trust yourself anymore to judge who had good intentions and who hadn’t, not after you had been so awfully wrong about Negan. And so you were still lonely, even with all these people around you. But being lonely was less painful than having to live with the agony of possibly being abandoned again. It had to be a little over a half year after Negan left when you found yourself sitting on a tree trunk in the woods, watching the campfire while you slung your winter coat tighter around your body, trying to keep yourself warm. You watched two of the other, newer members sitting on the other side, Sarah and Donna who were giggling as they chatted about some story while some of the others were either guarding the camp-side, slept or prepared some food for the coming days.  This casual chatting, the laughing at campfires was another thing that wasn’t part of your life anymore, the fear in you to reveal too much to be able to get hurt again was just too much of a risk and you honestly envied those who were able to take it, or who still didn’t see these type of interactions as a risk at all. The only times you loosened a bit up was when the group found some booze that lowered your inhibitions a little and pushed you to be more talkative than you allowed yourself to be any other time, but that was pretty much it.  You honestly hated who you had become, a shell of a person who had let her fears started to rule her life, forcing her to become a loner, suspicious of everything and everyone.  You wished for something that would give you the chance to turn it all back around, but with each passing day, the probability that you’d ever get this opportunity slimmed more and more. Letting out a shivering breath you  tried to move a little closer to the fire, hoping it would get to warm you up some more right before you heard a loud rustling within the underwood and heard Jake’s voice sounding tensely through the night. ”One step further and you’re dead”, he called out, letting you nearly instinctively jump to your feet and look at the other side of the small camp, see him pointing his gun at a small group that was nearly standing in the darkness, with their hands raised while the rest of your group started to draw their weapons and step closer to the possible threat. ”Hold on, hold on”, you could hear one of them say while you stepped closer, your hand wrapped around the handle of your knife as you first saw the man who was standing in front of four others, three men and one woman. A smile was laying on his lips, a dark mustache only intensifying it while he cleared his throat, though still holding a handgun in his raised hands. ”We’re here with some good news.” ”Drop the weapons first”, Jake called out, still pointing his gun at the group,”I mean it.” ”Alright, friend”, the man said, nodding to the others before they slowly lowered their hands and dropped their weapons as your eyes swayed over them, trying to find out whether they were still a treat or if they were simply searching for a group to join in. They had watched your camp-side before for sure, that pretty much was the unwritten 1st rule before approaching others and they must’ve been aware that your group was too big for them to take over on their own.  ”We got a big settlement nearby, a factory”, one of the other man, slimmer than the one who had talked until now stepped forwards, careful to not alert you. Your attention peaked up, your instincts immediately trying to figure out if he was being truthful ,”And we’re searching for new people to join, expand our forces.” ”People are the biggest resource we have”, the other one added quickly, nodding towards your group, all while the gun was still pointed at him, though he surprisingly didn’t seem to be all too bothered by it ,”We’re trying to use that.” You looked at them a little closer, stepping a few steps towards them through your group to see them a bit clearer in the light the campfire was throwing at them. They seemed to be well kept, their clothes were only slightly dirty from walking through the woods, but compared to yours they were pretty clean. ”You got proof?”, it sounded out of your group through the night, while the two men in the front quickly nodded. ”Sure”, the slimmer one said, gulping slightly as he glanced at the gun, “I have pictures in my backpack, I’m gonna take it off and toss it towards you, alright?” “Alright”, Jake nodded, while the man took the backpack slowly off, repeatedly eyeing the gun while he was doing so before he carefully tossed it forward.  You could see another one of your group, Daniel, reaching down to grab the backpack before he took a few steps back, ending up by your side as he opened it and revealed the pictures that laid on top of a couple cans of food and a cramped up jacket.  “If these are fake, you’ll die”, You could hear one of the others say as Daniel fished the polaroid photos out of the backpack, while you tried to get a glimpse at them, curious even though you were still suspicious of them, just like everyone else.  “Then we got nothing to fear, they’re real, as real as your chance for a better life.” Daniel started to slowly flip through them, give you and the ones who stood close enough to see them a chance to catch what was displayed on them and it seemed more than promising, almost too good to be true. There definitely was a factory on them, a compound with one giant building and smaller ones attached to it and here and there you could see some people displayed on them. working on the fence that seemed to surround it or walking from one spot to another. There were some pictures from inside too and these were the ones that actually impressed you and nearly made you hold your breath for a moment. There was a big hall of one of them, the photo shot from some kind of high platform to capture the countless people inside of it and the booths they were standing at, probably for food and other supplies. Other pictures showed rooms inside of the building,  “We have a new leader for a few weeks now, he’s trying to build this place further up. You got the pics of the apartments now, right? We keep on transforming more and more rooms into those”, the man with the mustache said, pointing towards the photo Daniel had on top right now and you could feel yourself drawn to them, though a large proportion of your mind was still on alert. Having your own bed, being able to shower whenever you wanted, not being scared of not finding enough food anymore, god that sounded almost too good to be true.  ”I know how it is to live outside, fight for survival. It’s easier together as a community”, the man added, letting you look up from the photos for another moment before he flashed another grin. ”I’m Simon by the way”, he said before he nodded towards the slimmer man beside him,”This here’s Gavin and-” He turned a little around before pointing to the others, one by one. ”These guys are DJ, Arat and Gary.” You watched them nod before you glanced back at the photos, while you could hear Jake asking them some more questions, testing them a little while you could actually feel a little hope within you rising that this place could actually be something that would give all of you a little brighter future.  Your mind was still wrestling with the devil on your shoulder, that was whispering in your ear that you shouldn’t trust your judgement anymore, not after what had happened, while another part of you genuinely hoped that maybe, maybe this could be at least a little bit of a new beginning for you. And what did you have to lose? ”So what do you fine folks say?”

It took a bit of discussing, more questioning and weighing your options until your group eventually agreed to give Simon’s community a try, dismantled your camp and finally followed them through the woods, still alert.  Simon kept talking about the place they called the Sanctuary and about the opportunities you’d get as new part of the Saviors as they called themselves. It would’ve sounded a little odd to you if you hadn’t heard all the other weird name groups and communities were giving themselves since the world had gone to shit. Compared to those, the Savior’s Sanctuary almost sounded normal.  You finally reached a large truck that was parked at the side of the road, with just enough space to fit all of you into its inside. You were still constantly checking your surroundings, maybe even trying to find something that could make you mistrustful of them but the truck seemed more than fine, just filled with wood benches at either side, and with some blankets and water placed into a box in one of its corners. You settled down onto a spot on the bench next to the others rather in the back of the truck, placing your backpack between your legs while the truck already started to slowly move back onto the road, jerking a little as you got ready for a long drive to what could become your new home.

The sun was already shining brightly when you heard that you were halfway at the Sanctuary, could see Simon moving through the truck as he talked here and there about the rest of the drive to the community. He was steady on his feet before he reached the seat in the front, bracing himself against it before he reached toward’s DJ who sat in the passenger seat, and patted his shoulder roughly. He chuckled, a wide grin plastered on his face that even you could see from your spot in the back before his voice echoed through the truck and let your blood freeze the moment you heard what he was saying. “Negan’s gonna like ‘em”, he proudly called out towards DJ, and the moment his name left Simon’s lips you could feel your body flinching, could feel boiling heat and icy coldness washing over your back within milliseconds while your breath got stuck in your throat. You stared wide eyed at the mustached man in the front, unable to move, unable to say something while thousands of thoughts started to crush in on you before you heard Jake raising his voice quickly. “Who’s that?” “The big man, our boss”, Simon chuckled, grinning back as he leaned himself against the seat and while you could Jake answering with an “okay”, you were already drifting away.  This couldn’t be him, right? Negan was a name you hadn’t heard before the world went to shit but that didn’t mean that he was the only one with this name. It could be someone else, right? You could feel your palms starting to grow sweaty, could feel your body starting to tremble while you gripped your fingers into your thighs, hoping that the sensation would help you get yourself under control and sort your thoughts. Negan had always been the leader type, the of man who was able to be the alpha of a group but this didn’t automatically mean that he was the leader of this group. When he’d run from you, he’d probably run as far as possible to not be in risk to run into your group again and that was likely much further than you had travelled by now. This didn’t have to be him. This could be another, completely different man. This didn’t have to be him. You were repeating this, over and over again in your head, until you had yourself fairly under control, though you feared that the others would notice how frozen, yet trembling you were sitting next to them, forcing yourself to stare at a spot on the wooden floor, to fixate it and give your head the opportunity to repeat these sentences over and over again until you felt like you had convinced yourself. And still, regardless how much you tried to suppress it, the possibility that it was actually your Negan was there, and you didn’t know how to handle it. You sat like glued to the bench, hearing and seeing everything else around you in a blur until you felt the truck stop underneath you indefinitely.  ”Alrighty folks, we’re there!”, Simon called out, grinning widely as you first snapped out of your trance-like state and could feel your group members starting to stand up around you, waiting for the man in the front to lead them outside. You pushed yourself to stand up too, feeling how wobbly your legs felt while an uncomfortable nausea was settling in your stomach no matter how hard you tried to keep on repeating those sentences in your head.  Shivering breaths fell from your lips while you exited the truck, holding tightly onto your backpack  finding yourself in the courtyard of the large factory. “Welcome to the Sanctuary”, Simon called out, strutting with open arms towards the large metallic entrance, more than ready to show you your new potential home. You had a hard time taking in what was happening around you, nearly unconsciously strolled into the large building behind the others, trying to keep your attention for your surrounding up as much as you could while you entered the large hall you’d already seen on the pictures, filled with bustling people. “As I said, the boss is still restructuring things but this is our grand hall!”, Simon chuckled as he spread his arms out again, turning around to the group for the moment as he kept on talking,”We got all kinds of things here, food, clothes, shit we even recently got a barber! And we’re building more up, maybe some of y’all get to open up your booth here. Behind this we got the sleeping places for the newbies until everything’s figured out and they get their rooms.” If you hadn’t heard Negan’s name earlier, you’d walk amazed through the hall, would stare at the uncountable booths and the people that were as many as you hadn’t seen for the longest time. But instead, you felt numb and panicked at the same time, stuck in a bubble and hoping that you’d  be able to let it break as soon as possible to return back to reality and pay attention to what was truly important right now. ”We’ll get ya’ll some food as soon as possible, but for now, you’ll get to set up your camp over here”, Simon finally said after you’d made yourself through the uncountable food booths that would have made your mouth water if you weren’t so busy with your thoughts and had ended up on the other end of the call, in its edge where cots with some blankets were set up, surrounded by some sheets that were hung onto cloths-lines to separate each little camp from one another.  You were nearly drifting back into your little trance as you looked around the cots, glad that you were standing in the back of your group so no one paid attention to your absent behavior while you cursed yourself for not being able to just push these thoughts into the back of your head.  You could hear Simon talk some more before he suddenly silenced, letting you first look up again to glimpse past the the others in front of you, only to feel how you froze in your spot as soon as you heard another, way too familiar voice boom through the air. “Well shit, now would you look at that!” It was him.  His voice. His laugh. It was him.   “Some newbies!”, you could hear him say while you still stood like glued to the cement ground on your spot, with widened eyes and shaking legs while his voice let shiver after shiver run down your spine,”Glad to get some more saviors into our ranks.” This had to be another one of your nightmares. This couldn’t be real. What were the odds that you’d see him again under these circumstances?  It took just another moment before you saw him standing next to Simon, the man you hadn’t thought you’d ever see again.  He looked nearly the very same as you remembered him.  A wide smirk was plastered over his handsome face, a salt and pepper beard that was a little shorter than when you’d last seen him was caressing his jaw, his hazel eyes were beaming with a roguish glance, his black hair wasn’t just combed back as it often had been during his time in the group  but instead slicked back with some gel, the familiar leather jacket was covering his torso and his beloved bat was laying on his shoulder while his fingers tapped on its handle. You were growing dizzy, could feel your ribcage tightening enough to seemingly press all air out of your lungs while you didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do as you stared at him while your body got so overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings that an emptiness started to settle in you, keeping you in a state of shock. “Hi, I’m Negan”, his deep voice vibrated through you, spreading goosebumps all over your body as his glance started to sway over the group, taking a look at each new person that was about to join his community before the unavoidable moment came and his eyes landed on you.  From one second to another, his face dropped, the grin literally falling from it as he stared at you if as if you were a mirage. His brows tensed in the next moment and you could tell that he was trying to figure out if he wasn’t just imagining this while horror spread over his features. It took a few more seconds for him to realize that the whole group was watching him and his sudden change in behavior before he put the grin back on his face, playing down the obvious bewilderment that was still stuck in his eyes before he nodded towards Simon.  “Simon, show our newcomers around, will ya? All other shit can be handled later”, he grinned once more into the group, through purposely avoiding your glance as Simon nodded. “Sure, boss.” “Good. Welcome to the Sanctuary”, Negan just said, before he already started to turn on his heels, and rushed into the opposite direction, disappearing quickly in another hallway that lead away from the grand hall.

Simon took you on a little tour in the following two hours, giving you some more info about the place and making sure you had what you needed for now until you found yourself back at your little camp, sitting on one of the cots while your head was still torturing you with thoughts. You could tell that the others had noticed the way Negan had reacted, that they knew that there was a reason why he’d changed after seeing you, and Jake and Sarah, who were sitting with you by the cots and kept glancing at you were the living proof for it. “Do you know him? Negan?”, Jake finally spoke up, still letting you glance up with wide eyes at him while he let out a small chuckle,”C’mon I saw his face when he saw you.” You gulped, fumbling on the end of your jacket before a tight breath fell from your lips. “Yeah”, you eventually nodded, sure of the fact that there was no way around this, at least not without giving them any information. “He uhm...he was in our group a long while ago”,you mumbled, watching as Sarah looked wide eyed at you, full of curiosity and most likely excited to finally unlock part of your past you’d kept locked up from all of them,”We got split up.” Technically, that was true. Not by groups of walkers or other threatening survivors, as they likely assumed, but you did get split up by his choice. Part of you wanted to tell the truth, let some anger that was still seething within you seep out but another, bigger part was holding it back, enough for you to keep a cool head, for now. Even if Negan was the leader of this place, it seemed like a good one. Food, shelter, protection. They had all been out there for long, they deserved a place to rest. Everything else would show itself by time, but for now, you didn’t blindly want to rob them of these things because of your personal vendetta.  ”He looked like he saw a ghost”, Jake chuckled, stroking some of his dark hair out of his face while a happy giggle fell from Sarah’s lips. ”Well, it doesn’t happen all too often that you can reunite with people”,she said, the excitement clearly audible in her voice,”You must be glad to see him again, huh?” God, if she only knew. ”Hey, you”, you heard a voice behind you say, letting you quickly turn around as you looked up at an unknown man who stared down at you,”It’s (Y/N), right?” ”Yeah”, you nodded, glimpsing a little irritatedly at him before he cleared his throat slightly, only to shove you into another sea of tension and nervousness as soon as he raised his voice again. ”The boss wants to see you, now”, he said, not leaving you, the tone of his voice urging ,”I’ll get you to his apartment.” It wasn’t phrased like a question, clearly, it was a command that somehow rubbed you the wrong way while another part of you still tried to grasp what this actually meant.  You would see Negan again. You might get answers to your questions. You gulped thickly, first becoming aware of the fact that three sets of eyes were staring at you and if you would take longer, it would only become more. An urge in you that was barely conscious urged you to nod and get up on your feet, without even thinking much further, though the tension within you started to become overwhelming. You still hadn’t processed all of this and now more and more was being thrown at you, leaving you to make your decision solely based on the few things that had always been clear to you; you wanted answers and you wanted to give vent to the anger and all the other emotions that had been seething in you for so long. Those two things were the only ones that let this urge win against the obvious fear that was streaming stronger and stronger through your body. “Go get your reunion!”, you heard Sarah say happily, smiling widely at you as you glanced back at her and forced a faked smile onto your lips, trying to cover up how you really felt before you were lead into the labyrinth of hallways by the Savior. The walk through the Sanctuary along the other man was awkward and it only let the odd nervousness within you rise. You could tell by his glances that he was curious to know why his Boss had asked for you, but he kept his mouth shut nevertheless, letting you walk beside him in silence, allowing your thoughts to full on torture you. They were buzzing through your head like a swarm of angry bees as you started to make your way up the long staircase, each step giving you more of a feeling of nausea as you knew that each one of them made you get closer to him.  There were thousands of scenarios whirling through your head, scenarios of what he’d say to you, scenarios of how you would react as soon as you would step into his apartment. Would he ask you to leave? Or to keep your mouth shut to not scare away anybody else? What would he actually be like? You’d clearly been deceived in him when you’d still been together. He hadn’t been the person you had though he was. So how would he present himself now? And how the hell would you present yourself? Would you freeze again as soon as you’d see his awfully familiar face? Would the rage within you finally boil over for good?  You were nearly growing dizzy just trying to comprehend all these thoughts, trying to shove them back and distract yourself with the view of the barely enlightened staircases, with the sound your shoes were producing each time they met the concrete and with your heavier growing breath. “Almost there”, the man beside you finally spoke up as you could see the end of the staircase coming closer, could see some light streaming through the small window of the heavy industrial door that lead to the very last floor. If the urge for answers to all the questions that were torturing you since he had left wouldn’t have been so strong, you were sure that your body would’ve urged you to turn on your heels and run, relieve you from the painful tension that was starting to eat you up from inside. The last steps were the hardest, physically and mentally it felt as if you were wearing shoes made of concrete, dragging you down each time you wanted to take the next step up until you found yourself on the small and very last platform. It felt surreal, almost as if you were a figure in a video game, not controlled by yourself but some other force you didn’t have any control over as you finally stepped through the heavy metal door and found yourself in yet another hallway. It looked a little different than the others, ironically more welcoming, with softer and warmer light than the previous ones. You could feel the nausea within you rise, fueled by the fear, anger and skepticism of what was waiting for you while the man beside you kept walking past some other doors that were plastered along the sides of the hallway until you stood in front of heavy, dark two winged wooden doors. If you weren’t so tense, you would’ve probably laughed to yourself about the ridiculously of these lavish doors in a literal factory building, that oddly enough felt like they fit to the Negan you had known.  “Here we are”, the man mumbled, catapulting you back into reality as you felt your heart skipping a beat as he reached for the handle and slowly opened the door and you started to feel your emotions pounding against the wall within you that had kept them in control until now, destroying it more with each passing second. “Don’t be so shy, step in”, you heard him grumble beside you, letting you realize that you’d stared at the slightly opened door until now, not moving an inch.  You slowly nodded, trying to straighten your shoulders and look as confident as you were able to right now, unwilling to show the man behind those doors how broken he’d still left you. “Sure”, you just said, nodding again before you moved past him, brushing past the heavy doors, the nervousness nearly blurring your view until your eyes suddenly fixed on his face, forcing you to look right into his eyes. He was standing there, just standing there looking wide eyed at you, almost as if he hadn’t expected you to come and slowly but surely, the emotions started to break out of their cage, forcing you to take in your surrounding, forcing you to understand that this situation was real and not just another nightmare. The apartment was as lavish as those doors had already indicated, dark wood everywhere, a large black, four poster bed to your left, yet too much out of your view to catch it entirely, oppositely to the leather couch and the luxurious armchairs he was standing next to, and the coffee table between them that was covered in food, wine, a big bottle of whiskey and a lit up candle that left you speechless and wondering what the fuck this here was. “Hey, Sweetheart-“ “Don’t call me that”, it shot out of your lips as soon as you heard his voice and the awfully familiar nickname that triggered way too many memories at once. Your eyes shot back to him as you could feel the anger within you trumping all other emotions for a moment, pumping you full with adrenaline that unleashed energy you didn’t even know you had anymore. “What the fuck is this”, it slipped in a snapping tone out of your lips as you stared once more at the fully covered table. You felt like this wasn’t even you who was directly talking, it was just the fury that was slipping out of you, more and more and it wasn’t done yet for sure. “I hoped that we could talk”, he said, his tone slightly defeated as he caught your glance, fueling the rage that was streaming within you, the rage that had been held back for way too long. “Now you wanna talk? You sure you don’t wanna leave a little note again and fuck off?” “Okay, I deserve that”, he sighed, so oddly calm that it only made you angrier.  He had left you, he had left you while you had been sleeping after you had opened yourself fully up to him and now he was acting as if you were here to have a little casual and friendly chitty chat with him. ”Listen-“ “No, no you listen”,you cut him nearly immediately off, and while your voice was still filled up with anger you could feel the stinging feeling of the bottled up pain start to break through the rage, much to your annoyance ,”Fuck you, fuck you, Negan.” You still sounded angry, but there was a brokenness and a bitterness to it that hadn’t been there before, something that let your lips tremble and your voice vibrate. “You left me”, you snapped, trying your very best to keep the stinging pain that was crushing down on you again in check,”Out of nowhere. You never gave me any warning signs. You asshole made me trust you, you kissed me and then you left me, you just fucked off.” Your breath was getting heavier as you nearly instinctively stepped further into the room, trying to get a closer look of him, trying to see what kind of emotions laid over his face to find out who he actually was. “We spent months together, we talked about every little possible shit, I would’ve trusted you with my damn life and you just left. You fucker let me wonder what the fuck I’d done wrong for you to abandon me out of fucking nowhere after everything we’ve been through”, the pain was sounding clearer through your voice now, regardless of how much you were trying to suppress it, while a cool shudder washed down your back as soon as he stepped closer as well, hurt and guilt plastered over his face that ironically only made you angrier, “And now you bring me up in your little suite and think we can have a chat during some candle lit dinner, are you fucking kidding me?” “Y/N”, he just said, pleading and with a deep sigh as he stepped even closer to you, trying to calm you down but the second he reached you and stepped just a little too close, close enough to touch you your instincts took over again.  “No”, you snapped as he tried to reach out to you, swatting away his hand while this mere, millisecond long touch was enough to let the storm of emotions within you rage even wilder,”No!” Negan didn’t try anything else, immediately moving a few steps away from you while you could feel your heart pounding faster against your chest and a lump slowly started to grow in your throat. “Fuck you”,you breathed shakily, trying your best to swallow down that lump that was starting to grow further as the pain started to wash over you once more, slow, stinging and torturous as it brought out the memories of the lonely nights you’d spent crying yourself to sleep,”You got any idea how I felt?” ”You knew of my fears”,it left your lips immediately before you gulped thickly, trying to get rid of the lump,”You fucking knew it...I just came up here because I want answers...nothing else.” “And you’ll get ‘em, I promise”, Negan said, looking at you with those sad puppy eyes that only made you question him, his behavior and everything that was going on around you even more. “You promised to stay too”, it slipped out of your lips, while you still tried to calm yourself down, control the emotions that still tried to turn you into a bigger mess than you already were to find answers to the questions that had been buzzing through your head since the day he’d left. “I know”, he nodded before he gulped thickly and let out a small sigh,”Please let me explain.” He looked at you, almost waiting for an answer before he reached up to scratch his salt and pepper beard, the same way he’d always done it when he’d started to get nervous. “Can we sit down?”, he asked, nodding towards the couch and the armchairs before you slowly started to nod as well, and strolled almost simultaneously with him to the assemble, moving down to sit in one of the comfy armchairs while he let himself fall onto the leather couch. For another moment, you tensed up again, looking at all the food and beverages that were sprawled out over the table, smelling their delicious scent that made your mouth water. It felt obscure to see that much food at once when you’d been happy to find a single can of ravioli just a day ago and it made you feel much more obscure and out of place to sit in the middle of this lavish apartment still dressed in your dirty and ripped clothes. “You can take anything you like. I know you’re hungry”, you heard Negan say, ripping your attention away from the food. “You don’t know shit”, it slipped out of your lips, and while it may have seemed childish, you didn’t want to take anything from him yet and you moreover didn’t feel able to eat now, not with this emotional turmoil keeping your body under its control, “Just start.” “The people you’re here with, does that mean-“ “Yeah”,you responded, gulping thickly as you could feel Negan’s eyes fix on you,”They’re dead..Not at once. More people joined and others died along the way.” “But are they good people? You trust them?”, he kept on asking, and while a part of you understood, another one just felt like he was trying to distract you from the elephant in the room and earn some more time. “Y’know, trusting others wasn’t really my thing after the person I trusted the most left me out of nowhere”, you said, the bitterness in you unable to swallow that remark down before you pulled yourself together once more for the people downstairs. Regardless of what was going on with you and the man across from you, they deserved a chance here. ”But yeah, they’re good people”, you said, letting out a small sigh before you glimpsed back at him, a part of you still unable to process that it was actually him who was sitting there and not just a mirage, part of a nightmare that would let you wake up in cold sweat, “Now stop with the small talk, just start.” Negan nodded, running his hands almost nervously over his thighs before he moved down to rest his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands before he sighed once more. “First off, you didn’t do anything wrong”,he mumbled, glimpsing up for a moment to look at you,”I panicked that night.” You stared at him, not sure on how to react, nor how this would go on, you just looked at him, your body so tense you were almost on edge to hear more while the suspicious part of you was trying to filter his words, make sure you weren’t fooled and hurt again. “I-...fuck”,he stopped himself, struggling for words,”When I woke up in the middle of the damn night I laid awake for so long and those shit ass thoughts started to creep up..I just...I thought I’d be damned to fuck it up, whatever we had there...I thought it would be easier for you if I’d leave now before we’d get even deeper and I’d disappoint you then.” You were at loss of words as you stared at him, still shaking, still tense while you were trying to process what he was saying, if you were supposed to believe him or if this all was hot air. “I know how cliché this sounds but fuck, I never meant to hurt you, I tried to prevent it”, he gulped, snapping you out of your nearly trance-like state as what seemed to be supposed to appease you instead did the opposite. It whirled memories up, way too many, of how much he had hurt you nevertheless, of how much pain he had caused you from the moment you’d discovered that he was gone to this very day.  “Worked fantastically”, you scoffed out while your throat started to tighten again, start to push some tears into your eyes nevertheless how hard you tried to suppress them,”You knew how scared I was of being abandoned again.” “I know, I know, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am...the shit I did, my thoughts back then...they were fucking dumb, they weren’t rational”, he responded, shaking his head as another thick gulp travelled down his throat,”I just had that shit with Lucille creeping up again...I just-” He let out a deep sigh, looking down to his feet for a moment before he slowly glimpsed back up at you. “I knew you deserved better in the end, much fucking better than my old ass”, he started again, his glance nervously bouncing around the room before it landed back on you,”After that kiss I got scared, ain’t gonna lie to you. I got pants crapping scared. Those damn kisses meant we were going further and I just....” There was this feeling within you that he was being genuine, that he was telling the truth. The way his eyes shifted, the way his jaw clenched and the way he sat and fumbled on his hands, you had seen those things before on him. You’d seen this nervousness when head first talked to you about Lucille and his regrets, and there was something about the way he looked right now that was too raw to be acted. You were suspicious enough of your own judgement since he’d left, but you couldn’t deny that he seemed to tell the truth. But if he was, if he was actually being genuine, what he was saying there threw you off nevertheless. “We were already deep in. Not physically but you knew everything about me, emotionally we were already nearly as far as you can go”, it slipped out of your lips while you were still trying to process what he had been just saying there.   You’ve had so many concepts in your head as to why he had left and this was it? It was not as hurtful as finding out that he had full on rejected you or played games with your feelings when he hadn’t been feeling the same would have been, but it was frustrating. It seemed avoidable. It seemed like all this pain, all these sleepless and tears filled nights could have been avoided if he had just done what you’d both been doing when you’d been distressed. But instead of doing so he’d done exactly what he knew was one of your greatest fears. “You could’ve just talked to me. We always did that”, it slipped out of your lips while you could feel the tension starting to let your body shake again, not visibly but enough to cause you even more discomfort as you were thinking back to this one night,”I was even already awake...and even when I was back asleep, you-” “I know...It was a knee jerk reaction”, he quickly said, his voice desperate as he kept your glance glued to his,”And I regretted it. I did. I packed things so fast, wrote you that shitty note and just ran like fucking coward.” He gulped thickly, scratching his salt and pepper stubble nervously before he looked back up. “But I’m not lying to you when I said that I got my head clear a couple hours later. And regretted leaving, so goddamn bad”, he said, only intensifying the suspense, frustration and even confusion within you,“I still don’t think that I deserved you but shit, it should’ve been different and my fear of fucking shit up made me fuck us up...I got back to the camp, I did, to apologize and work things out but-“ Your heart skipped a beat as you heard him hear those words, unable to get what he was saying there before he went on. “I just saw them laying there. Joanne, Thom...and I searched the whole damn camp for you, I swear, and when I saw that you weren’t among the goddamn dead and your stuff was gone I kept searching for you...for weeks” Nausea was flooding your body again, turning your stomach upside down as you stared in disbelief at him. What he was saying there was changing everything he had said before, everything you had assumed before. He had come back. And he wasn’t lying. If he hadn’t, there was no way of knowing who had died at this clearing, nor that this walker attack had even happened.  “I think after two weeks I found this little cabin by a lake...found that weird scarf thing that Janice always wore”,he mumbled, only pushing you deeper into the chaos that was raging through your head,”Thought I’d finally found a lead but it was the last damn trace of you that I ever found.” You were speechless, unable to even get a single sound out. He was saying the truth, even about searching for you. You had been at this cabin, a little over a week after Negan had left. You had stayed there for a night only, just to discover in the morning that another large group of walkers was approaching. Still scarred from the events earlier, you’d all taken off as fast as you could, never coming back only to discover later that Janet had left her beloved cloth behind. She really did have this big scarf that she has used as poncho or even blanket during colder days that was covered with odd patterns that made your eyes hurt when you looked at it for a little too long, but she’d loved that thing and you could remember lively how heartbroken she’d been when she discovered that she’d left it behind in the hurry you’d been in.  So Negan had really been going after you, he hadn’t just returned to the camp and just left it for good when he’d seen that you were gone, he had kept searching for you. This was changing so much, if not everything and you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about this.  “Probably went into he wrong directions for weeks after that”, Negan’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts back into reality, though the man in front of you and his words still appeared in a blur,“And then I met another group and shit, at that point I thought you didn’t wanna see me anymore anyway...So I followed them and ended up here....I always kept looking for you though.” You stared at him, watching his expression saddening further as he sighed deeply. “I’m sorry”, he said, a shivering breath falling from his lips,”I’m so sorry, I really am. We had something great there and I fucked it up, I hurt you and I can’t tell you how much I hate my damn asshole self for that shit.” You still couldn’t get a single word out. Everything seemed to fall to pieces and you had problems reattaching these pieces into this new story that completely messed with all the possible ones that had controlled your head during the last months. He had left you when you’d told him about your fears nevertheless, but he’d been panicked, hadn’t thought clearly and moreover had come back and searched for weeks for you, following every lead he could get. You just didn’t know how to handle this all at once. “I just...I don’t know what to think anymore”, it finally slipped out of your lips while your glance wandered off him, blurring further as your mind was too focused to try and get your thoughts and feelings under control. “It’s okay”, you heard Negan say, watching him clenching his jaw tensely from the corner of your eyes. “Again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am”, he sighed, playing with his fingers while you could feel his eyes on you,”I always hoped I’d get to see you again but fuck, another damn part of me, regardless how much that crap hurt just hoped that you’d become happy and forget about me. You deserved to move on after the shit I pulled.” “I never did”, it almost immediately left your lips, almost automatic while a stinging pain rushed once more through your body, the same you’d felt each time you’d stared at his note by the campfire that was right now, still resting in your jacket’s pocket,”I never forgot you.” It got silent for another moment while you could feel the lump growing in your throat again, could feel the tingling in your nose that was a harbinger for the tears that tried to rise into your eyes. “I never knew you went back”,you gulped, struggling for words as your blurred glance stared at the fuzzy, lavish carpet below your dirty boots,”I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel different now, I just-“ You got cut off by the growing lump that made it hard for you to speak by now and felt the intensifying torture your mind was pushing onto you, enough to let the room start spinning around you, let the dark painted walls around you come closer as if they were about to crush you to death. “I need some fresh air”, you chocked out, gripping the soft edges of the armchair’s sides to push you onto your feet, not fully trusting your body to do it without the support right now. “There’s a platform at the end of the hallway”, Negan almost worriedly said and you could see him sitting up, could tell that he was seeing what was happening to your body. “Okay”, you just said, nodding almost absently and before you could realize anything more, you found yourself stemming the heavy wooden doors open and rushing back through the hallway until you reached the metal door that lead to the platform he’d mentioned.  You were shaking heavily when you finally wrapped your fingers around the handle and pushed the door open, moving onto the platform before you propped yourself against the metallic railing, gripping its bars tightly. You stared out into the vastness, over the endless seeming forest while your heart pounded up your throat and your legs turned into jelly. You could feel the lump in your throat growing bigger before the first tears started to roll down your face and shivering breaths fell from your legs. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? All this pain, all this helplessness and loneliness from the past months was washing up again, keeping you from being able to think clearly. “Fuck”, you cursed to yourself, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks while you had no clue what you were supposed to feel now. His confession turned everything upside down. You just stood shivering there, so overwhelmed by everything that you couldn’t really think or do anything else. Tears kept falling down your face while your shivering breaths filled the air for what felt like an eternity until you had calmed yourself a little down and stared into the sky.  You had to go back in to him at some point, even though you had no damn clue what to do or say to him. You felt frustrated and relieved at the same time, hurt and glad at the same time, felt like running away and towards him at the same time. And the only way to know what you’d truly do or find out what the dominant emotion was, was to go back and face him.  It took you a few more minutes until you felt just ready enough to peel you away from the railing and move back inside, step by step while your whole body tightened and tensed with every bit you got back closer to him. Finally, you stood in front of the large doors once more, could feel yourself starting to reach for its handle, trying to prepare yourself as you started to open it and slowly moved back inside. You glimpsed up the moment you heard the door crush back into its lock and saw Negan staring at you, slowly standing up from his spot on the couch, a look of uncertainty covering his face.  You could feel the lump in your throat growing back as you were urged to look at him, feel all these emotions crushing with all their force back onto you, releasing all what you had suppressed before once more.  Tears shot back into your eyes regardless of how much you tried to suppress them, forcing the pictures of your lonely self back into your head, of the way you’d closed yourself off and stayed on your own, too scared to trust. “You know that I kept pushing everybody away after you left, because I didn’t trust myself around people anymore?”, it suddenly slipped out of your trembling lips as you moved forwards, tears falling down your cheeks as Negan’s face twisted in guilt,”Because I thought I’d been so wrong about you?” He stepped a little closer while your lips trembled and more tears kept coming, elicited by the memories that popped back up, over and over again. “I’ve been so lonely these past months, because-”, your voice hushed, forced by the lump as you sniffled and felt yourself breaking out in tears, desperately trying to get yourself back under control. “I-”, you heard Negan say, cutting himself off, at loss of words as he moved towards you, slow and carefully until you could see him right in front of you. What happened next was more of a blur as he reached out towards you with one hand, careful and half expecting for you to swat it away again but instead, you let him, a part of you just craving to not feel lost anymore. His fingers met your arm, his palms curling softly around it and his touch made a shiver run down your spine, so comfortable even though it should have been chilling. Slowly, Negan started to pull you towards him, starting to cautiously wrap his arms around you and pull you into his embrace. You shivered more for a moment, confused by the touch that felt familiar and foreign at the same time. This was your very first hug after he’d left and his scent and his warmth felt overwhelming and you felt more than ever how much you had missed to feel the touch of someone. And still, exactly this touch let everything break more out of you and let the whimpers turn into sobs, finally releasing all this tension and pain that you’d bottled up. “I’m sorry”, you could hear Negan mumble into your hair as he tightened his embrace around you slowly, letting you lay your head into the curve of his neck and nearly feel how hard his heart was pounding in his chest,”I’m so sorry.” His voice was filled to the rim with emotions too, so much that it sounded like he was on the edge of crying too and you could barely get what you were doing right now.  Just an hour ago you would have attempted to rip his head off if he’d just tried to hold you and now you laid shivering and sobbing against him, wrapped up in his arms, with your nose nuzzled into his warm neck. It didn’t mean that you were forgiving and forgetting everything, you had problems getting over the fact that you were letting him so close in again and risked that he could hurt you again, but after being lonely for so long, you couldn’t describe how much you craved this and felt like you needed to use this as a valve to let everything out once for all. “I missed you, so so fucking much”, you heard him mutter into your hair, and the sound in his voice actually pushed you to believe him. There was still an seething anger within you, and it wouldn’t just leave, not after your thoughts and pain had fed into it for months, but you just wanted to try and look at the fact that he had made a mistake but had tried everything to change it and find you. Maybe he really had been who you always thought he was. He’d just been scared. He didn’t say anything more for a while, just held you while you sobbed into him until your exhaustion forced you to turn the sobs back into small whimpers, and lay trembling against his tall figure. Negan slowly moved his hands up, one first reaching up to caress his thumb over the side of your face before both gently grabbed you and moved you out of the curve of his neck to look at him. His thumbs were brushing over your cheeks, trying to get the wetness softly off of them while you could see the tears shimmering in his eyes as well. “I’m so fucking sorry”, he mumbled again, while his touch made it feel like your heart skipped a beat again and you tried to push all the scenarios you’d assumed about him over the last time out of your head to take in the reality. “Can we sit down and talk again? A little more?”, Negan gulped, a fear whirling through his glance that you’d rarely seen so clearly in him.  You slowly started to nod, just following your instincts for now while you tried to shut down your head for a little. Relief spread over Negan’s face, though he still stayed tense as his hands fell from your face and instead, one of them started to reach of your hand, first brushing in a testing way against yours before he grasped it carefully. You let him, not retracting it this time and allowed him to lead you over to the couch, sit down into the soft, black leather after him while his hand stayed wrapped around yours.  “I wished I could turn back time. I can’t, but I wish so fucking much that I could”, he started, running his free hand over his face before he glimpsed back at you and gulped thickly. “Leaving was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made in my damn life, if not the biggest of ‘em all”, he mumbled, trying to hold your glance ,”I know I can’t make it up to you but if you let me, I’ll do my fucking best to get close to it.” You looked at him, still feeling the warmth of his hand as his hazel eyes glimpsed at you and you could feel yourself starting to nod, longing to finally find peace and happiness again, though there was still something in you making sure that you didn’t risk too much and got hurt again, though everything made you assume that he meant it. “I just-”,you started, looking at your intertwined hands for a moment before you gulped thickly,”I need to process this first...just do it all slowly.” “Of course”, Negan nodded, his voice calm, soothing and most importantly genuine, ”Take as much time as you need.” It got quiet for a moment as you sat there with him on the couch, a part of you still not realizing that this was actually happening. You could feel Negan’s thumb starting to slowly brush over your skin in a soothing and yet still cautious manner, trying to show you some affection and give you the space you needed at the same time. “Y’know wanna make something out of this place, I haven’t been on fucking top for long, there’s still so much to change”, he eventually started, clearing his throat a little as his glance caught yours again ,”I...I wanna change this into one of these places we used to talk about and fuckin’ wished we could find.” It let a small shiver run down your back, hearing him talk about the past but at the same time, it gave you the feeling that this place might really hold your future in it, a better one than you could have ever thought of during the last months. “I’ll make sure you and your people will get good rooms”, Negan went on, holding your hand a little tighter for a moment, as if he was trying to make sure that you knew that he meant it and was already starting with his first steps to prove it to you,”You’re all gonna be cared for, you’ll get all you could possibly need.” “Thank you”, you mumbled only to see Negan quickly starting to shake his head. “There’s no damn need for that”, he quickly said, letting out an almost nervous breath as he looked at you,”Fuck, I gotta thank you for giving me a new chance.” For the first time since you got here, you felt yourself starting to crack a smile that got immediately mirrored by Negan, as the smile that had always spread warmth through you began to tug slightly on the corners of his lips. “I’ll use it to the fullest goddamn extent, I promise”, he assured again, holding onto your hand while you tried to let yourself relax a little more and lean into his touch.  You still had to get used to it again and you were sure that it would take its time, similarly with your trust to him. You needed to move towards each other in baby steps again, give yourself enough time to fight the demons in you and the fears and mistrust they carried with themselves so you could start to feel safe and comfortable enough to let yourself fall again.  You just wanted to process this all first and give yourself the chance to let the reality of what had actually happened take the top spot in your head instead of all the other torturous scenarios that had kept your head under control for months. You just wanted to be able to finally give yourself the chance for a better future, even though it would take time and effort to get to it.  You hoped that with the closure, the answers to your questions and the new opportunities that presented themselves, you’d be able to let the pain that had become your everlasting companion fade, and instead make room for the things you had missed the most; pure happiness, laughs so intense that they made your belly hurt and the feeling of being safe and wanted.  And for the very first time after all these months, you felt like these things were reachable again, no matter the hard work that was needed to get them.  For the very first time after all these months, you felt like you could start to free yourself from the cuffs of the past and step into a new, better life, together with Negan.

________

Lyrics (Unless Tumblr screwed the fonts up, the bolt words below are those that I especially used in this imagine!) I can see you standin', honey With his arms around your body Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all And it took you five whole minutes To pack us up and leave me with it Holdin' all this love out here in the hall I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defendin' now? You were my town Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before Hoo, hoo-ooh Hoo, hoo-ooh Hoo, hoo-ooh I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending I'm not your problem anymore So who am I offending now? You were my crown Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leavin' out the side door So step right out There is no amount Of cryin' I can do for you All this time We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (You didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) All this time I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs So many signs (You didn't even see the signs) I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town Now I'm in exile seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leaving out the side door So step right out There is no amount Of cryin' I can do for you ___________ The gif is not mine. I found it on google so all credit to the original owner!

2.43 S1 Chapter 5.2 - Stand By Me

2. ESCAPE

Random girls: oh no the girls are fighting

Translation Notes

1. Koutairen is the abbreviation for the All Japan High School Athletic Federation.

2. Kuroba calls his relatives おんちゃん and aunt is おばちゃん, so yeah

3. Economy class syndrome is “deep-vein thrombosis said to be caused by periods of prolonged immobility on long-haul flights.”

4. Murderer was in English in the original text

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The bridge in the middle of Monshiro Town and Suzumu City was the goal of Haijima’s daily jogs. At the end of his jog, he dashed across the concrete bridge that was shining silver in the scorching August sun, then made a U-turn at that same speed and ran down to the riverbank. “Uwah!” His soles slipped on the overgrown summer grass. He ended up sliding down to a flat area of the riverbank on the enamel bag he carried on his back.

Hah, hah…He lay there for a while, breathing heavily. In the shadow of the bridge, the temperature felt a little cooler than on the bridge. He could feel the dampness of the summer grass soaking into his hair.

He got up unsteadily, put down his bag and took out his ball. He imagined that he was tired at the final stage of the game and purposely began to do one-person passes before he could catch his breath. With an overhand motion, he threw the ball directly above him. He continued to set the ball rhythmically no higher than a centimeter. The sound of the ball being softly flicked echoed in the quiet riverbank for a while.

The concrete piers rising from the riverbank had several colored chalk marks on them, though they were already fading. The marks were used as the attackers’ positions, and he set the ball to them. He spun around and hit the bouncing ball with a jump back set at the exact same height. He turned forward again and set the bouncing ball again. This time he intentionally changed the spot he hit it to. The ball deviated somewhat and bounced up. He then ran to chase it and crouched down and set the ball while he was underneath it. Gradually, he purposefully shifted to spots where he hit the ball to harder and harder places.

Haijima’s sets were characterized by their “speed,” but they were sets that crushed the attacker’s will, or sets that didn’t “allow for themselves to be hit,” so to speak. As the ball moved in a parabolic position, it had time to drift near the top before it began its free fall. If he set a ball that overlapped the top of the parabola with the attacker’s highest jumping point, the attacker could use that time, even if it was only a few tenths of a second, to draw out his power and hit the ball as hard as he could. In order to always have that kind of set, he had been refining his technique by focusing on unparalleled accuracy in ball handling.

Immediately after hitting the pier with a back set, the ball bounced back with a bang and he flipped it up with his elbow, still facing backwards. He jumped up to the high ball and hit the mark accurately with one hand. Technically, he could keep on doing this for an hour or two without dropping the ball. However, his legs couldn’t keep up, his toes got caught in the summer grass and he pitched forward. As he slid forward, he stretched out his body hard and thrust the back of his hand into the gap between the ball and the ground.

Although he connected with it through willpower, that was as far as he could go. The ball was flicked low in front of him and crashed into the grass.

He sprawled out on top of the grass, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. The blue summer sky spread out above the slope pierced his eyes, and he raised his arm to cover his face.

“Shit…”

He let out a curse under his arm.

“Why do I have to do this…”

In addition to withdrawing from the semifinals of the Fall Tournament, the school gave them the severe punishment of refraining from club activities for the time being. It wasn’t that it was settled that they were guilty, but rather that the current situation was completely grey. Okuma said it was in fact because it was grey. If the fact that the scandal was real were to leak through some other channel and the school had received the report but not taken any action, the school would be on the hook. There were several such incidents a year, regardless of the type of sport. Okuma was a little more familiar with that sort of situation—it was the school’s way of protecting itself by taking strict measures, he said.

Since they weren’t banned from practicing on their own during the summer break, Haijima continued to practice on his own, just as he had done when he wasn’t a part of the team. Since he didn’t know when the next competition was going to be, he hadn’t made any adjustments for a tournament, just blindly practicing everyday to beyond the limit of his stamina, much less stopping at the limit. However, even if he practiced until he couldn’t move, he couldn’t see the effect by himself. There was only a growing sense of futility, no sense of accomplishment at all.

What am I doing here all by myself? What’s the point of practicing by myself? There’s no point in this unless I’m in a place with a net and there’s someone to set the ball to——.

Fading chalk marks on the bridge piers. The reason they were fading was because he didn’t have to practice alone anymore before, and because he didn’t draw over them these days, even when they were getting fainter.

---

It had been a month since club activities were suspended. September 2nd, the second day of the new semester—they only went to school for the morning yesterday, so today was the real first day of the new term.

When he pedalled his bike to the station, he saw the train arriving at the station building. He pedalled faster and charged in front of the station, then immediately got off his bike and jumped over the ticket gate. Monshiro Station was a desolate little hut, so the platform was right in front of the ticket gate. He ran and made it just in time through the gap in the doors as they were about to close.

A dark green afterimage intruded his vision and he momentarily felt dizzy. He took off his glasses, wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt, and exhaled. The fan spinning on the ceiling blew a strong and lukewarm wind that ruffled his hair.

I pedalled my bike as hard as I could for just a little bit, but I’m tired…

As he leaned against the railing by the doors and put his glasses back on, he noticed a tall person wearing the same uniform as him standing in front of the priority seats.  

“Granny, if you don’t tie it up properly, they’ll all fall out.”

While giving something that sounded like honest advice to the old lady sitting in the priority seats, the person was tying the mouth of a supermarket bag that was filled with some kind of fruit and then putting it on the overhead rack.

“Thank you, young master. I wish my son was as big as you.”

“Your house would get more cramped with people like me in it. My mom keeps saying I’m getting in the way.”

“Well, isn’t your house big enough?”

“Our house is wide horizontally, but it’s stuck verti…”

Kuroba also noticed him and cut himself off.

“Oh…hey, you’re kinda sunburnt.”

I was wondering what he was going to say first, but it was that? He sure has it easy.

Kuroba was dressed in his uniform, a white shirt and pants. There was a rule about ties, but few male students wore them in the summer. A colored T-shirt was showing through under his shirt, and Haijima couldn’t judge if that was cool or tacky because he didn’t have the evaluation standard for that. Haijima was just wearing the white shirt.

The only bags he had was the flimsy school bag designated by the school (it wasn’t designated to be flimsy, Kuroba just flattened it himself), and he wasn’t carrying the enamel bag for club activities. When he clicked his tongue with the implication of Look at you, just enjoying your vacation like it’s natural, Kuroba flinched a little and pouted.

They averted their gazes and leaned against the railings on either side of the door. There was no conversation that would stimulate them, so there was silence. Haijima planned on going home after doing some more self-practice today, so he had his usual enamel bag slung over his shoulder, but he couldn’t bear the weight on his shoulder and put it down on the floor. The single ball, his own that was used for outdoor practice felt terribly heavy.

He might be right when he called me sunburnt… When he turned the direction of his face, he could faintly see the frames of his glasses faintly reflected in the door glass. He had been practicing outside for overwhelmingly longer than usual, so he felt unusually burnt. I spent a lot of time outside yesterday too…so much that I don’t even remember how long I practiced. He wondered if that showed how tired he was.

Even though it was September, it was still blazing outside. However, the scenery of the paddy fields flowing outside the train window had become quite autumnal before they knew it. The growing rice plants were beginning to hang down their ears as though bowing. He squinted his eyes at the dazzling golden glow of the paddy fields reflecting the sun that had been shining brightly since morning. It seemed to overlap with his current situation, where he could only look on at a brightly sparkling world from a dim place, which made him feel even more frustrated.

Their participation in the Spring Volleyball Tournament’s preliminaries was hopeless at this stage. The semifinals would be held at the end of this month, and the two schools that would advance to the finals for both the boys’ and girls’ teams would be decided. Two months later in November, the finals will be held for the right to represent the prefecture at the National Tournament, where there was only one spot for both boys and girls. The Spring Tournament Final Selection, where representatives from all over Japan would gather, would be held in January of next year.

They had completed the application, so it seemed that they still weren’t officially non-participating yet, which was rather like a state of limbo. Even if they were allowed to resume their activities in the second semester, it would be difficult to rebuild a team that had fallen apart during the summer break in less than a month. It would be fine if their goal was to participate—but what Seiin, Haijima, Oda wanted was a ticket to Nationals. They needed the ability to beat all the teams in the prefecture and rise to the top.

What about Oda…he wondered if he had already given up on the Spring Tournament. As the days went by, he had a feeling that he was the only one feeling irritated like this every day, but when he saw Kuroba’s reaction, like he had forgotten something completely important, that worry turned into certainty.

Every time the train stopped at a station, the number of passengers and density within the train increased. Right before Nanafu Station, it became congested like it was rush hour, and the two stood side by side with their backs against the door. The two tall boys blocked the door glass, turning the inside of the car dark and causing the passengers near them to somewhat keep a distance from them.

There was a group of girls in Seiin uniforms chatting animatedly. He could tell from a glance that they belonged to a sports team, and from the logo printed on their bags, he could tell that they belonged to the girls’ softball team.

“Oh, you’re the first-years from boys’ volleyball.”

They seemed to know their faces and called out to them.

“We heard about it. Your club activities got suspended.”

They said in a teasing tone. “Yeah, well,” Kuroba said with a stiffened face and took a step over to him. While pulling his bag to between his legs with his foot, Haijima gave a side-eyed glare at Kuroba. …Don’t chicken out. What’s with that “Yeah well” and that half-smile. Aren’t you the reason why.

“…You, get a clue. It’s thanks to you that the Spring Tournament has become a total waste. We missed out on Inter-High and the National Meet, so this was our last chance to go to Nationals…”

He spat out in a biting voice, with the back of his head against the door glass. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kuroba’s shoulders jump.

“I, I know that much. It’s Oda-senpai and Aoki-senpai’s last year, and I feel awful about that. But if that’s the case, then you should trust me even more.”

He was just as persistent as he had been a month ago. Haijima had no idea what he was being so stubborn about. Was there anything in this world that required him to stubbornly prioritize it over the Spring Tournament? If it were him, he would say no.

“It’s not just the third-years. Why don’t you think about yourself too? We’ve only got three chances.”

He emphasized “three chances.” If he could, he would do it dozens of times, but he could only go there three times in his life.

The Spring High School Volleyball Tournament had been held in the first gym of the Yoyogi National Gymnasium in Tokyo for a long time as a March tradition, although there had been some changes to the outline of the tournament since it was moved to January. Since elementary school, Haijima had watched those recordings to the point where the tapes were literally worn out (some games were only recorded in analog form, so he went out of his way to have them shown to him on a VCR). He had imagined dozens of times, hundreds of times, that he would be fighting on that orange court—not the multi-sided court they had been playing on until the quarterfinals, but the center court right in the middle of the gym. Ever since elementary school, he had only been imagining that both when he was asleep and awake, only to suddenly realize one day that he had only three chances to actually try to go there, and that truth felt absurd to him.

When he decided to leave Meisei Middle School and go back to Fukui, he thought that with this, he had nothing to aim for anymore. But Oda’s words shone a light on what he had once stored away in a dim place.

“I honestly believe that this year’s Seiin will definitely be a team that goes to the finals.”

“Lend me all your strength.”

Can I really trust him…? If that’s the case, as long as I give it my all, I’ll get us there. After the summer training camp, he was at the point where he was becoming more and more convinced that he could make that a reality with this team, and he couldn’t step on the brakes twice.

“I can’t wait until next year. If this year’s ruined, then we lose one chance. Three chances will become two. And even if we could go there three times, it still won’t be enough.”

Why doesn’t he understand…really, how many years does this guy plan on being in high school?

“Were we told that… You seemed to be attached to the Spring Tournament, but that’s because you’re from Tokyo, right? What’s the difference between this and Inter-High or the National Meet?”

Kuroba’s tone of voice also became a little stronger. What had been sulkiness gradually became something like resentment and lashing out.

“If you wanna be in the Spring Tournament so badly, I’ve got an idea for you. You should go back to your old school in Tokyo and compete with them. You don’t care what team you’re on, as long as you can be in the game, but not Seiin. You’re only thinking about yourself anyways, aren’t you?”

“…? Why do I have to be told that? No matter how you look at it, you’re the one who’s not thinking about the team.”

Their voices, getting louder and louder, attracted attention from around them. The girls’ softball team was exchanging whispers that sounded like “Boys’ volleyball is splitting up.”

“You don’t know the rules of Koutairen (1) in the first place, do you? There’s one where it’s a general rule that if you transferred schools, you’re disqualified from participating in games unless six months has passed. If I transferred to Meisei right now, even if I get accepted, there’s no way I’d be able to compete in the Spring Tournament preliminaries anyways.”

He was starting to feel very annoyed, wondering why he had to explain all that in a place like this. As expected, Kuroba looked as though he didn’t know about such a rule, but he still snapped back, saying, “W-Well, if that’s the case…”

“You want to go back if you can be accepted, right? I knew it.”

“I didn’t talk about that at all. Let me say this clearly, even if I’m accepted, who’s gonna want me as their teammate again? I…”

His voice caught. The words that had congested in his throat were spat out in small chunks.

“I’m…the setter who caused his teammate to attempt suicide…after all…”

Kuroba widened his eyes and became speechless.

That face suddenly disappeared from his vision with a surprised “Oh?”

The train had just appeared at the station and the doors had opened. Having suddenly lost the support of his back, Haijima almost fell onto the platform.

Passengers, including many in the Seiin uniform, surged towards the doors. The current of people pushed him and he jumped onto the platform on one foot, but his bag he had put down on the floor was left behind and he hurriedly pushed his way through the crowd to go back. A large rectangular bag was slumped between people’s feet. While almost getting kneed several times, he reached for the strap and retrieved the bag.

The departure bell began to ring, so he quickly retrieved it and was about to jump off the train, but just as he put his foot down the edge of the train car, he suddenly felt hesitant.

…What’s the point of this whole day? I’m just going to school and killing time between classes, not even doing any club activities, and yet I’m just going to go home tired.

He saw Kuroba’s head in the stream of people heading for the ticket gate. It was like a rock sticking out of the shallows, his height one head above the others. While walking with the current pushing him, Kuroba turned around and shouted something at Haijima, but Haijima turned back and went back inside the car.

He sat down on a vacant seat and threw his bag out onto the aisle. Of course, the Seiin students had all got off at Nanafu, so there was no one else left who was wearing the same uniform as him.

That’s what he thought, but then he saw Kuroba’s trouser-clad legs step over the bag in front of him and stop.

Blinking, Haijima looked up.

“What the hell are you thinking…”

Kuroba, looking a little flustered, was panting heavily.

“Why are you coming back here too?”

“You’re skipping school? What are you gonna do?”

“What, you say…”

He was about to answer “Nothing really,” but then fell silent.

It wasn’t as though he had any destination or goal if he kept riding. But…

He just thought of one.

“…Kuroba. Come with me.”

“Huh? Where?”

Kuroba darted his eyes about.

“Tokyo.”

“Huh? What are you doing there?” He looked like he still didn’t understand yet.

“I’m going back. ——To Meisei.”

***

“…Huh, Yori-chan came back? …No, it’s fine, yeah…I owe you, Uncle. I’m begging you, please don’t tell anyone until tonight. It’s not like I’m running away home, I’m with a guy who knows Tokyo, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Kuroba, who had been talking in front of the station attendant’s office, came running back and said, “I kept you waiting. Here.” He pushed half of the bundle of tickets into his hand.

Fukui Station was in the center of the northern part of Fukui Prefecture and a terminal station where limited express trains stopped. The express train from here to Maibara in Shiga Prefecture and the bullet train from Maibara to Tokyo cost about 13,000 yen for a one-way trip—not an amount that a high school student could afford after making up his mind on the spot, so they had Kuroba’s relative who worked at the station to arrange the tickets for him. He didn’t know if tabs were a thing at train stations, but it felt like it was Kuroba’s tab.

With a humble look on his face, Haijima received the ticket.

“You asked me to come with you, but you used me as your wallet.”

“It’s not like that. I’ll repay you. My dad will be there when we get there.”

“Well, I don’t really mind. Oh, that relative of mine just now is my aunt’s…Yori-chan’s mom’s younger brother.”

“I don’t get it.” The relatives and aunts got mixed up in his mind. (2) Were there really hundreds of relatives related to the Kuroba family around here?

“Yori-chan went out of the prefecture to play again during vacation, but he arrived on a night bus a little while ago and came back to town the same time as us.”

Since the departure time of the special express train was approaching, they talked as they ran up the stairs to the platform and jumped in through the nearest door.

It was a weekday, but the unreserved seats were quite packed. Most of the passengers were in two categories: groups of young people on summer vacation since universities were still on break, and businessmen on business trips. They looked terribly out of place in their high school uniforms, but thanks to Haijima’s enamel bag, which was easily recognized as something for club activities from an outsider’s perspective, they should look like they were going to an away game or something.

Kuroba found two empty seats and took the window seat first. Haijima shoved his bulky bag into the overhead rack and sat down in the aisle seat. The two of them were taller than most people, so it was quite a bit of trouble for them to tuck their legs in.

“The seats are so cramped in limited express. Won’t we get that economy class syndrome thing?” (3)

“It’s only a little over an hour to Maibara. Bear with it.”

“Accused of misconduct, then skipping school in the new semester and escaping outside the prefecture, can my situation get even worse…umm, how do you put the seat down, oh, here?”

As he continued to complain, Kuroba pushed down the back of his seat one notch, and when he thought he was going to rest his back on it, he pressed his face against the window and said excitedly, “Oh, it looks like we’re setting out already!” Even though he had been complaining about his situation, he was completely acting like he was on a school trip, saying, “Let’s buy a station lunch if they’re selling food in the train. I’m starving.” This guy fundamentally has weak self-awareness.

It shouldn’t have been reassuring at all to bring along a country bumpkin who got excited just by riding the express and having to take care of him, only adding to his burdens—but he convulsively invited Kuroba. Even if he hadn’t depended on his wallet, he didn’t think he would have even thought of going if he was alone.

Kuroba made an “Mmm?” sound and stirred, rising from his seat. Haijima was fed up, wondering why he couldn’t stay calm like that, but it seemed that he got a call as he took out his vibrating cell phone from his back pocket. As soon as he checked the caller, he got a startled look on his face. “Itoko…ah, not Yori-chan, but my cousin, Itoko.” “Your relatives sure are complicated.”

He thought he was going to answer, but he only indecisively stared at the message, not even attempting to respond.

“What if it’s an emergency?”

“No…we had a little fight, and she was staying angry at me, so what’s with the sudden…”

Kuroba clamped the phone between his hands and the vibration eventually stopped.

“Ah, she stopped.”

His voice when he said that sounded a little disappointed as he breathed a sigh of relief.

The gravity from the front lightly pressed him against his seat. Haijima imitated Kuroba and lowered the back of his seat down a notch, resting the back of his head against it and relaxing. He slowly closed his eyes and turned his attention towards the vibrations beginning to come from underneath his buttocks and the muffled sound of the train as it gradually picked up speed. He didn’t mind the feeling of being wrapped in a thin barrier, something characteristic to long-distance trains.

It’s been a while since I felt this feeling. In the winter of my second grade of middle school, I rode the express train in the opposite direction…

“Haijima.”

It came from next to him. It was no longer high-spirited, but calm.

“You’re not seriously going to transfer schools, right…?”

“You’re still saying that?”

Haijima answered curtly and opened his eyes.

“If you’re not, then what…”

“Who knows.”

“What do you mean, who knows?”

Kuroba’s voice became a bit wild, as though he was impatient, but even if he said that, it wasn’t as though Haijima had any specific predictions about what would happen.

After that “test of courage” incident at the summer training camp, he began to have nightmares from time to time. He didn’t really hold a grudge against Okuma and the others for their prank. It was just that those people didn’t know his circumstances, and it made him realize that he was still dragging along what happened at Meisei.

It might be that something would be put behind him for the better, it might be that something worse would happen. It might look foolish to be desperate and going out of his way to have his wounds gouged out, but in any case, if he stayed here, then this summer would end fruitlessly in a state of limbo. For Haijima, this current situation where he couldn’t go forward or back was unbearable, to the point where he thought that it would be better to just destroy everything once and for all.

“I thought if I met Souta, it would play out one way or another.”

“Souuuta.”

Kuroba repeated the name in a strange monotone, then cleared his throat like there was phlegm stuck in it.

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking…what happened at your Tokyo school…?”

“I might as well. I’m the one who made you come with me, so it makes sense for me to tell you. We have time while riding anyways.”

“I-It’s not like I’m curious or anything, okay? You don’t have to talk about what you don’t want to talk about.”

“Don’t get so weirdly worked up over it.”

Although he said that, this guy was someone who paid attention to the needs of others by nature. Unlike him, he could be considerate in order to not hurt others. …Oh, was he coughing because he found it hard to ask? It was then that he realized that the excessively high-spirited chattering might because he was finding the right moment to broach what he wanted to ask.

“He’s the guy who…attempted suicide, right? What kind of person is this Souta…?”

“Yoshino Souta. My volleyball buddy since fourth grade.”

Haijima began to play volleyball when he was in fourth grade. The Haijima family was a father-son household, but his father came home late and he had to stay home alone for a long time, so he was enrolled into a local elementary schooler volleyball club as a substitute for after-school childcare. The club itself wasn’t a full-fledged one, as its main objective was to improve the physical fitness of children, but Haijima became more and more absorbed in it, to the point where volleyball became everything to him before he knew it. Volleyball might have become something like a parent to him.

It was at this club that he met Yoshino Souta and Komukai Tetsuto, and they would later play together at Meisei Middle School. Although they went to different elementary schools, they invited each other to continue playing volleyball at the same middle school, and they all took the entrance exams for Meisei Private Academy Middle School.

“Our coach was named Minami-sensei, who took care of us older kids under the head coach, and the one who told us about Meisei. Sensei told us that it was a powerhouse school in Tokyo, with great facilities, and that they worked closely with their high school to nurture their players over the long term. So we all promised Sensei that we’ll definitely go to the Spring Tournament from Meisei High.”

“Heh…With such a good team and environment…” How did something like that happen? He seemed to want to say.

Why did it become like that, really. When he was in elementary school, everyone got along well. They all looked forward to the days they had club, and there was never a conflict of opinions that created a bad atmosphere.

However, that was probably because their positions were fluid and they were playing volleyball half in fun. As they started to play a serious and strict team, the disparity in ability and physique became more and more apparent, and their old relationships changed before they knew it. Haijima himself probably realized it quite late, but it seemed that everyone distanced themselves from him from the very beginning.

“Can’t you get it up there? If you don’t do that, I can’t do anything either.”

There was a time when Haijima lost his temper because the attackers’ serve return rate was terrible.

“You don’t do receives, so don’t talk to us about anything. If you’re gonna tell people to do something, do it yourself first.”

“If I do the first touch, then I can’t be the setter. If I’m not in the middle, there’s no offense. The left’s job is to receive first and foremost. It’s the job of all of you to connect to me. I’m not gonna let someone who’s not gonna do that to spike.”

Haijima thought he had said something obvious. Even thinking about it now, he was sure he wasn’t wrong in theory. No matter what formation it was, the setter didn’t take part in the reception. However, his statement made the atmosphere rough.

Apparently, this kind of thing would happen so often that his teammates would go online to enthusiastically badmouth Haijima to each other in order to vent their frustrations. Someone’s mother must have happened to see their screen, and shocked by the situation, the mothers overreacted and it reached the coach in the form of harsh advice from the parent’s association.

“Haijima, why did you have to say things that way…? I’m not a teacher at this school, so I won’t delve into it that much, but could you please think over your words a little bit more? That’s why, even though it’d be fatal for us if we don’t have you, you’re benched for the next game.”

The mothers’ cooperation was important not only in terms of funding, but also for training camps and away games, so the coach was probably reluctant to speak out. He decided to temporarily drop Haijima from the starting lineup for the tournament in the fall with the sense of “appeasing them.”

It was on the very day of the tournament.

Yoshino Souta attempted suicide by slitting his wrists.

The direct trigger for this was the fight with Haijima during practice two days ago, apparently.

“MURDERER…do you know what that means?” (4)

“…? Um…what was it again?”

He was suddenly asked a question and gave a quizzical response. He didn’t want to give him a quiz, so he immediately said the answer.

“A killer.”

Kuroba’s seat suddenly creaked as he sat up and looked at him. Haijima only gave him a side glance and purposely continued to speak detachedly.

“I also didn’t know until I looked it up in the dictionary, so I guess they weren’t really good at bullying. Even if they drew graffiti with a word I couldn’t read, it didn’t really affect me. …Until I went home and looked it up.”

The Yoshino incident spread outside the club, probably embellished, and he ended up being harassed in school. When he came to school in the morning, there were words carved on his desk, or his textbooks and school shoes went missing. It was of course unpleasant and disgusting to see his shoes lined up in front of the fence on the roof (which was of course off limits as a general rule). Going to school because he had club activities remained the same in middle school and now. Haijima didn’t have any reason where he had to cling to his classes to the point of struggling to find what he had lost and being treated as entertainment as he did that. Staying home from school was an easy decision.

“So with the end of the second semester, I stopped going to school for a month, and I transferred here for the third semester…and you know what happened after that. …That’s pretty much it.”

The blood drained from Kuroba’s face. It rubbed him the wrong way a little, wondering why he was making that face even though he wasn’t the one who had those things done to him. He understood, though. He’s got that kind of personality, so he sympathizes with me and feels sorry for me. But it actually hurt him to recognize anew that he had been through something that made him be pitied.

“…Haijima. After hearing your story, I have a feeling that you really shouldn’t go there… I think going back to a place like that would make you feel painful feelings again, and nothing good will come of it…”

“You’re the one who started it. You told me to go back to Tokyo right now.”

“Oh, that, well, that was more like tit for tat…”

“Take responsibility. I don’t need you to get cold feet. Because…I might be the one who’s getting cold feet.”

“…”

Kuroba kept stiflingly silent. The passengers sitting in the seats in front of them reclined their seats like they had arranged it beforehand, making it too cramped for them. Still silent, the two obediently bent their knees. The four knees in black pants tightly lined up before them.

A small vibration began sounding at the window. Kuroba’s phone, placed on the window frame, received another message. Kuroba took his phone and muttered, “Ah…it’s Itoko again.”

“Why don’t you just answer her?”

Haijima moved his legs aside to make room for him to leave, but Kuroba shook his head with an “Oh, no…” and pressed the power button on his phone. “It’s fine.”

Previous || Index || Next

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

Meeting and Dating Leonard Lawrence

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Leonard before he was drafted. You see, Leonard's “type” is girls who smile at and are somewhat decent to him. You show him that little sliver of attention and kindness and he’s all yours. Which is exactly what you did. 

- You were with some guys in your town when Leonard walked past. The guys called his name mockingly, forcing him stop so that they could make fun of him.

- Initially, you sort of didn’t know he was sound which only added onto your outrage over how the boys were treating him. What else were you supposed to think, he was half a foot taller than most of them and wasn’t doing anything to stop them from ragging on him.

- Regardless, you stuck up for him, telling the boys to stop and that it wasn’t funny. They turned on you and; lightheartedly, began to tease you as Leonard; stunned into stillness by your kindness, just stared at you in gratitude. Well, he stared until the guys told him to fuck off which he did so clumsily, sneaking glances back at you as he went.

- A few days pass and you honestly forget about the boy. That is, until he shyly approaches you as you’re taking a walk, introducing himself and thanking you for sticking up for him. You tell him that it was no problem and ask if he wants to join you on your walk after he awkwardly lingers by your side.

- The two of you begin a friendship of sorts; occasionally stumbling across each other and hanging out or saying hello on the street. You weren’t very close but you liked his company which is why you didn’t find it hard to say yes when he asked you out on a date.

- You should have seen how nervous he was; stuttering all over the place and shaking like a leaf. He almost couldn’t believe his ears when you actually agreed, he had to ask you to repeat what you’d said.

- For your first date, he took you on a picnic in the park. The two of you talked for a long time, getting to know each other on a deeper level and just enjoying each other’s company. You were genuinely surprised by how fast time passed when you were with him.

- The two of you share your first kiss a full two weeks after you have your first date. You’re seeing each other regularly, he’s just too shy to initiate it so finally you just do it yourself.

- He couldn’t have been happier when you tugged him down to your level and laid one on him. It was the best day of his life.

- After that display, there was no way he would ever let you go.

- He’s not very experienced when it comes to relationships so you’re going to have to be patient with him. Teach him about what he’s allowed to do because if he isn’t sure, he usually just winds up not doing it which means a whole lot less affection.

- He’s sorta shy when it comes to Pda. Usually, the most he’ll do is hold your hand or give you a hug.

- He asks permission before he does anything, even if it’s just holding your hand or kissing you. He’s constantly nervous that he’ll mess up and do the wrong thing.

- Soft, clumsy kisses.

- Cheek kisses.

- Piggyback rides.

- He picks little flowers for you whenever he sees them. Usually, they’re just weeds but they’re still pretty and the sentiment remains the same.

- He thinks you’re the epitome of perfection and he tells you so while breathing out an awestruck sigh.

- He looks at you like you hung the moon. There’s always this admiration and complete love and devotion present in his gaze.

- He’s not a good liar and has trouble keeping a straight face; even when he really wants to, so you’ll always know when somethings up.

- Bear hugs. He’s a tall boy so you’re always nestled nicely into his chest.

- He usually only calls you by your first name but isn’t opposed to using nicknames. He does have a particular fondness for being called them.

- His body is like a heater; he’s always so warm so whenever you’re cold, just move in close and you’ll be fine.

- Standing up for him whenever people try to give him trouble.

- He loves cuddling but he’s a bit hesitant to initiate it which is why he’s always so happy whenever you snuggle into him. He does whatever he can to reciprocate the action, wrapping himself around you awkwardly and refusing to move even if it gets uncomfortable.

- Whispered conversations while you’re laying in bed.

- He puts the things he knows about you in a special folder in his mind so that he never forgets them. He can be a bit absentminded at times but you’re put above all else.

- He’s always happy to help if you have housework to do. He likes being able to make your life easier in any way he can.

- Wearing his shirts. They’re big and comfy and he never minds when you steal them.

- He usually doesn’t have a ton of money but he’ll scrounge up enough to take you out on a date every now and again. They might not be the most expensive but they’ll always be fun.

- Movie theater dates. He will cry if you watch a sad movie so maybe just stick to comedies.

- Going to diners. They’re fairly cheap and the two of you can sit and talk without anyone eavesdropping; anyone as in members of your family.

- Going to candy shops. He’s a sucker for sweets.

- Most of the time, you just take walks in parks or around town, occasionally stopping to do something that looks fun.

- Leonard’s a little slow and needs some special care but he isn’t stupid; he just needs the right motivation and teacher to learn.

- He names his rifle after you when he’s in recruitment camp. It’s the only name he feels is right; he takes Hartmans speech a little too seriously.

- Exchanging letters while he’s at boot camp. His handwriting is messy and a bit hard to read but you still think they’re cute.

- A gentleman. He always uses his manners and treats you like a lady. His mama taught him well.

- His parents are so happy that he’s found himself a “good, decent girl”. They’re so proud and welcoming towards you.

- He’s always eager to try and cheer you up or be there for you when you’re upset. He’s a big softie, he can’t stand seeing you cry.

- He doesn’t get jealous very often, only when he sees that you really like the person and they like you. His brain immediately goes to “oh she likes him more than me” and “she would be better off dating him” which usually leads to him sulking for a while.

- He’s definitely a bit insecure so occasionally, he’ll need some reassurance that you do in fact like him; and only him, and that you actually think he’s handsome.

- He insists on walking you home at night, even though he wouldn’t know what to do if you actually encountered anything dangerous.

- Leonard isn’t a very tough person so he might not fight someone but he’ll protect you from other things. He’ll make sure you don’t trip on something or get stung by a bee but if some guy flirted with or insulted you, don’t expect a whole lot from him because he’ll probably try to act tough and just get unnecessarily yelled at or roughed up.

- You don’t fight, you just don’t. He can’t handle it, he’s too soft, too sweet.

- If you ever were to fight, he’d be keen on making up and apologizing. He hates even the thought of you being upset with him and/or not wanting to see him. He’s afraid you’ll break up with him completely; something he won’t just be able to take in stride.

- He says “I love you” very often. Sometimes, he says it just to hear you say it back because he can’t believe someone as amazing as you genuinely loves him.

- I don’t think having a girlfriend back home would change everything about Leonard's situation but I do think that it would be motivation for him to not go through with his final actions. He’ll most likely spend some time in a psych ward but I think once he’s out of boot camp, his life will be a whole lot better.

- He can’t imagine not having you in his life. You’re gods greatest gift to him and he can’t wait until the two of you can get married and start your life together.

The Love Talker- Chapter 12

Universe: Gancanagh/ Fae AU Rating: M (It’s dark, it’s spooky, it’s sexy without the sex, but our dubcon vibes end here) Length: 3504 Words

A/N: Are y’all ready for more feelings? I wasn’t.

Master post [Here]

He was frozen on the spot, staring wide-eyed at her as she gasped for air, as her arms shook. She looked so small, so broken, and he was overtaken by the urge to run. His head was telling him to go, to save himself the heartache of watching her reject him, of watching her die slowly from the poison he’d put in her veins. His heart told him that he must stay, that he had to see this through, that he needed to die for her if needs must.

So he stood, not moving, not breathing, watching her. She tried to push up from the ground beneath her, her arms still shaking and weak below her. He saw the trolls in his periphery, heading deeper and deeper into the shadows, away from sight, but not out of hearing distance.

They were providing him with the guise of solitude but doubtlessly had turned their ears toward the clearing, listening to what was about to unfold. He couldn’t blame them of course, but in the moment, watching Anna falling apart, and coming back together he couldn’t help but feel entirely useless and abandoned.

Time to atone.

Time to suffer.

It was best to do it alone.

“Kristoff.”

His name was the first thing he heard beside the rumblings of his dispersing adoptive family. He almost didn’t recognize the sound of it, croaked raw and stuttering from her throat. She was gasping for air after she said it, like it was a great labor to say his name, his real name.

He couldn’t chide her for using it, particularly as they were safe here whether she knew it or not. Or at least she was safe from all but him in the space as it was protected by his family.

He met her eye as she tried again to push herself up off the ground. There was frustration in her expression, mingled with sorrow and something like pleading. She had an exhaustion about her that she was fighting through, demonstrated by the shaking of her arms and the labor in her breathing. It was terrifying to behold, watching Anna, the woman he was coming to think of as his in ways beyond the mystic, looking like anything but herself.

Her hair was wild, her cheeks as red as the wisps of it that the breeze caught and stirred. Tears rolled down her face, between her freckles, along the sides of her nose.

He felt like he was being torn in two, competing urges to run away from and towards her battled at the fringes of his mind.

He could touch her now and do no more harm than he already had. He could wipe away her tears and hold her and tell her how sorry he was, but when he imagined approaching, he imagined her recoiling. He would rather suffer death than experience her pulling away. He would likely have to experience it regardless.

“I’m so sorry.”

***

Air burned her lungs, her stomach roiled, and she thought that she might vomit at any moment. An imaginary weight from above was crushing down on her, not allowing her shaking arms to do any more than just hold herself up. She wanted badly to just let them go out from under her, to just lay on the ground, face first, and wallow in the pain of all her selfhood returning at once, all of the magic that cloaked and soothed the revelation of her curse being drained from her.

A fire raged in her blood, and then, slowly softened to a warmth. She understood it, something deep in her knew that not all the magic had left her veins, that there was still a poison in her blood, that the fire she felt was a tether. She could feel the connection in her very bones, and knew that whatever the trolls had done to her had not removed that too.

As the pain waned, she focused her eyes ahead, pushing all the strength she could into her arms to push herself back up into a somewhat seated position, kneeling, but looking at him from below across the now empty clearing.

She called his name and didn’t recognize her own voice, her throat tight and aching as if she’d just had a severe cold that had come and gone in the matter of moments. She balled her fists at her side as she met his eye and fought to keep her gaze on him. The hot tracks of tears spilling down her cheeks were at the fringes of her thoughts, but she couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away, she refused to waste the strength to do it, not when she needed desperately to speak to him.

There was something like disgust in his expression, in the frowning of his lips and the arching of his brow. It hurt, cutting deeper than the pain and exhaustion in her limbs. She wouldn’t blame him for hating her, for damning them both when he’d tried so hard to ensure it wouldn’t happen.

He needed to know that she didn’t want this, she needed to tell him that there was nothing she wanted more than to take it all back. But she couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry.”

It hurt to say it, there was so little strength left in her, something in the process of regaining her mind had consumed it, and even to push out the words was a chore. Through the tears in her eyes, which filled again and again as she blinked them away, she couldn’t see his reaction to the words, her vision of him obscured by wetness.

“I’m so…”

She let her eyes close, keeping them open felt like a chore.

“Kristoff…”

She felt dizzy, like the air she was pulling into her lungs wasn’t enough to keep her going. It was easier, she thought hazily, just to take a nap for a moment, and then she could apologize properly.

***

He hadn’t known what to say when she apologized to him. The concept that she would hold any of the blame in their current situation was so utterly outlandish to him that he hadn’t prepared any kind of response. Truthfully, he hadn’t prepared a response to anything that she could have said, but it had struck him that she’d fought through what he could only imagine was pain to tell him that she was sorry.

He opened his mouth and shut it again, hearing her call his name into the silence between them, his true name, cut him to his core. She was calling for him and he could say nothing, do nothing for her. He’d never felt so weak in his life, so broken.

Not even the day he’d become what he was, so far off that he could hardly recall it except for the pain, had hurt him so deeply as looking at Anna did. He’d made so many mistakes in his life, hurt so many, and Anna still, on shaking limbs, was trying to stay close to him.

It wasn’t the curse. He wasn’t making her want him like this, he would feel it if it was. There was a singing in his blood, a connection between him that he could feel, but there was no pull in it from his end. The physicality of the compulsion would remain, she would need his touch to survive but the trolls had ensured that she wouldn’t blindly crave it. Her want of his closeness was real.

He watched her eyes drift closed, watched as she seemingly lost balance and fell slowly to her side.

“Anna!”

 There was no response.

His feet finally deigned to allow him movement, and he took off toward her, the trolls who had melted into the wood around them returning to the edges of the clearing, watching with wide eyes as he ran to her side. He heard them talking quietly in their tongue, and he understood the snippets he caught.

Fate. Love. Break the Curse.

It was hopeless. He wanted to tell them that there was no hope of it, but he forced himself to look at Anna instead. She looked pale, spent, and as he hauled her from the cold ground into his arms, he took immediate comfort in the rise and fall of her chest, the beating of her heart that he could all but hear when he focused hard enough on the connection between them.

She was light, but it was difficult to lift her comfortably. The awkward hang of her limbs worried him as he gathered her into his arms and lifted her from the ground, but without the fear of touching her skin to skin, he managed to arrange her in a way that he wasn’t worried about her tumbling from his arms.

“Lets get you home,” he said quietly, low enough that only he could really hear it.

It didn’t escape him, as he began to walk from the space, eyes upon him, that his throat didn’t ache or prevent him from saying that his cabin was her home.

***

Someone was screaming. Anna knew, somewhere in the fringes of her mind, that she was dreaming. The realization of this did not prevent the shrill sound from frightening her. A jolt went down her spine as it echoed through the blackness around her.

Everything was dark, and below her feet she could only see the lichen and tree litter of the forest floor. She was running, her toes numb and aching from cold and the roughness of the terrain.

It's a dream.

She tried to tell herself that everything was fine, that she'd wake soon and that in short minutes she wouldn't even recall the fear that drove her to run. She tried to shake off the concern, but logic had never had much power in her dreams, let alone her nightmares. She was stuck, fleeing from the unknown and further into the dark.

She saw them then, waifish glowing white figures, white as snow against the blackness of the forest around her. They were almost beautiful, their too thin bodies moving lithely as they closed in on her, but when she saw their faces, gaunt and hollow, faces contorted into pained, fearful, half-mad expressions she could only stumble back.

Their screams were piercing, and ice flowed through Anna’s veins at the sound. She tried to run again, but she was surrounded on all sides, screeching and wailing on all sides as the women encroached. She stumbled, her foot catching something unseen as she fell to the ground.

“Please,” she said, managing to find her voice.

“Please, I just… I just want to go home.”

They made no indication that they understood, as they came closer and closer to the place she’d fallen. Their hands stretched out towards her, arms and hands barely recognizable as such, appearing ghostly, like skin hung from bone but with none of the softness that living things usually held.

“Stop.”

Anna shivered and skittered back a bit in the litter of the forest floor, terrified even when they stopped their onslaught, their attention torn from her by another figure breaking through the blackness.

He was tall, handsome, and broad. He radiated light too, but in a livelier way than the pale ghostly women at her sides, like sunshine. In his hand he held a lit pipe, and his hair appeared almost golden beneath the brim of his hat.

Kristoff.

She wanted desperately to run to him, but the waifish women blocked the way and she couldn’t pull herself to her feet. She felt weak, drained, too tired to move.

He looked at her then, stepping forward as the women reached their hands out toward him. Their thin fingers caught desperately against the fabric of his coat as he passed but they didn’t cling to him as he walked toward her, standing in his wake.

“Leave us,” he said to the women, keeping his almost honey-colored eyes on Anna alone.

There was a pity in them that was in many ways more terrifying than the ghosts as they shifted and shimmered and returned to the blackness.

“She’ll join you soon enough.”

***

She jolted awake, her throat aching, and eyes bleary against the bright light around her. She couldn’t breathe in deep enough for her liking, her heart racing as she tried to pant in and out.

“Lay back down.”

She recognized the voice instantly and recoiled away from it, turning to her side and trying to flee, crashing herself into the wooden wall to the side of the bed. She was in his bed, in the loft of his home, and as the realization dawned upon her, she was only slightly less terrified by his presence, seated in a chair at its side.

“Did you…”

Her voice was cracking and rough.

He shushed her in an almost gentle way, but in a way that also expressed some of his frustration. She wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought her to his cabin, but she could recall all that had happened before, and in fearful snippets, what had occurred in her dream. She knew that this had been her fault, that he was still for some reason trying to protect her despite it, but still she couldn’t help but feel a bit distrustful of him again after her dream.

I’m going to die.

“I’m going to get you some water, alright. Don’t move, I’m worried about you falling down the ladder if you try to leave the loft.”

She shook her head, just to be contrary.

“I can manage…”

Her throat was still scratchy, and she couldn’t deny that she needed water so much as she simply wanted to get it herself.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Too late for that.”

When she looked away from the wall she’d rolled herself into and back at him, she was surprised by what she saw.

He was uncharacteristically mussed, and not in the way that made him appear to be more attractive. He seemed tired, and though she knew he did not need to sleep often if at all, she could tell that he was drained. It made her heart ache in a way that she could not explain immediately, like she needed to care for him and not the other way around.

There was a sadness in his eyes, and she knew that it was caused by her words.

When he left without another word, the aching deepened. She didn’t want to hurt him, and it wasn’t because of magic. She simply wanted him happy, even if the outcome either way was for her to become one of the horrible wraiths in her dream.

Like the women that have come before me.

***

Her hands shook around the cup when she drank, and he was careful in giving it to her and in taking it back to not brush his fingers against hers. It would do no more harm now than it had already done, but it felt too familiar, too intimate to touch her at all, even to hold her gaze.

He’d never been any good at being a Gancanagh, perhaps because it was what he was made not what he was born. He didn’t recall what he’d been like as a man, and even though his family often told him in stories what he’d been like before the change, he often thought of it like hearing about some long-lost family member who’d died a century before. He supposed though that he hadn’t been around enough human women to have much luck with them. If the idea that Anna could ever love him had been laughable in the valley, it was even more so now as she avoided his eye and shrank away from his touch.

She looked paler than usual, her freckles even appearing faded compared to their usual prominence. He remembered what she looked like when she was flushed, when her eyes had a shimmer of curiosity and joy. He could remember ever way she’d smiled at him, even tentatively before.

She hadn’t had so much life in her since before he touched her, and he knew that he was already sapping the life from her, whether or not he wanted it, he was killing her slowly.

“I’m sorry Anna,” he said quietly as he settled the cup carefully on the floor at his side.

He meant it. He’d never been so sorry for anything in all his life.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” she said, almost reflexively, like she’d trained the words to come out, like she’d been waiting for him to say it.

“All of this is my fault.”

“Yes, you had plans to kill me from the very start, which is why I had to run into the wood for safety. And you were the one who touched me too, meaningfully addicting me just because you thought it would be fun.”

There was a cheekiness to her tone that he appreciated, even envied, though he still felt a dull ache in his chest for their predicament. One of them had to die, and if he could manage it, it wouldn’t be her.

He huffed, and looked up from the floor and back to her face.

Their conversation was already brightening her a bit which was a relief, but he still couldn’t help but fret over the fact that until the curse was lifted, she would continue to weaken. She’d want him soon enough, but in the way an alcoholic needed a stiff drink or an addict needed a fix. He found himself for the first time not looking forward to a subtle touch from her.

He recalled the way it had felt for her to intentionally touch him through the fabric of his clothes, the warmth it had brought him. He doubted he’d feel it again now that every touch was meant to keep her from withdrawing from the poison he’d put in her blood.

“I could have simply taken care of the problem and sent you on your way back to the warmth of your home, but I made a judgement call out of my own selfishness that put us in this situation. I’m the monster here Anna. I won’t have you blaming yourself.”

“And I chose to stay with you. I was selfish too… and I won’t have you holding all the blame either.”

She looked tentative, but he was surprised to see her shift closer to the side of the bed, near where he was seated. Her hand went out from the blankets again, this time settling over his on his lap.

“I know you can’t lie,” she said quietly, her eyes shifting from his face to where she was touching his hand, “So I know you must really believe that this is somehow your fault. I need you to know though… I’m scared, but I’m not angry with you… I don’t blame you, I’m just afraid of what comes next.”

He thought maybe that she might be a little afraid of him too. There was a wavering in her voice and the way her fingers twitched on his hand made him feel as though it were already time to get himself killed to free her. Yet he couldn’t help but allow himself to pretend for a moment that she wanted to touch him, that she really meant that she was only afraid of what would come.

He turned his hand slowly under hers, shifting his palm up, and finding, with surprise, that her fingers fit perfectly between his.

“What comes next is that we look for a way out… I’m going to keep you as safe as I can Anna, but I can’t promise anymore that I’m not going to touch you on purpose… you must know that you…”

“I need it,” she said quietly, her fingers squeezing his lightly.

“I’ll keep it chaste.”

He was surprised by his ability to say the words, feeling in the moment, with her in his bed, touching him even lightly, like it was a lie.

She smiled then, some of her liveliness returning, if only for the mischief.

“If I request otherwise?”

He didn’t think that he could flush really, not much anyway, but his face felt hot as his mind betrayed him and thought of the underthings, he’d brought her, of how it would feel to unbutton her gown.

He cleared his throat, trying to think of something, anything, to say, only to have his thoughts interrupted by her laughter.

The sound of it allowed him to relax a bit more, his fingers squeezing hers in return to the gesture she’d offered earlier.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Maybe… maybe there’s a chance neither of us have to die after all.

There was a traitorously optimistic part of himself that held onto such an impossibility. He’d never been in love before, but he’d also never had Anna before.