I'm not saying you're killing me, BUT there is a flower in my lungs

by emotionaloof

Chapter 5: Love in the air? Wrong! 5d4 psychic damage.

Summary:

Vyncent has daddy issues and seeing his found family fish dad flirt with another father is not helping with that. Thankfully hes got Ashe, who’s daddy issues also get doubled in this scenario.

Notes:

Sorry for dissapearing for so long - I've finished dental school!
So the chances of your dentist writing gay fanfiction about podcast blorbos are low.
But never zero.

Vyncent did not wake up ready. 

Quite the opposite, he woke up more unprepared than he’s ever been before! Even more than the first time he went to school on Prime! 

Okay, that was a lie — he can never be as confused or unprepared like that first day in Centurion High.

But today wasn’t much better, as he opens his eyes at the early hours of the morning only to immediately close them again, once he remembers what happened the day before.

The petals scattered on the gym floor. Soothing hands on his back and shoulders. A pinboard with a messy list. 

He groans loudly, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, hoping that maybe if he scrubs hard enough, he might cause a small amnesia that will make him forget everything that had happened these past few weeks. That would solve most of his problems. Probably.

“Procrastination and repression are not an answer to this. They never are…” A voice that sounds too much like Tide echoes through his mind.

Shut up Head Tide! I don’t want your insightful advice!

…I’m sorry Head Tide, I didn’t mean to be rude…

“It’s okay…” The voice speaks again. “Just try to be better next time…”

A tired sigh escapes his lips. It’s not even that far into the morning and he has already managed to insult the voices in his head. And not even the ones that are assholes to him!

(He mentally flips off a certain hero. Not even a second later, he gets back a middle finger accompanied by a wave of judgment.)

He shifts in his bed, kicking off the covers and slowly sitting up on the edge of the day. He stares at his feet that lay flatly on the cold floor of his room. 

Yesterday, he confessed to his friends about the flowers that have been plaguing his lungs. Their reaction was something he could have expected — distress and worry mixed with an unhealthy amount of hopefulness, a thing that managed to grow onto him during their discussion. But now, said hopefulness felt more foolish and detrimental than comforting. All because he didn’t tell them the entire truth.

The truth about his nearing demise.

Can you blame him, though? He just dropped on them the information that he’s got incurable flowers growing in his lungs, and that was already way too much to take in. Was he supposed to add “Oh yeah, by the way, those flowers are going to kill me soon too! I’ve got quite a shit luck huh!” on top of it all, like the world's worst cherry? 

“Lying to your friends about your fate is not the right decision, Vyncent…”

Not helping Head Tide!

Vyncent lets out another tired sigh, pushing himself off the bed to start walking to his dresser. 

Why the hell should he listen to Head Tide? He’s just a creation of Vyncent’s imagination that tries to guilt-trip him into making good decisions — clearly that guy knows nothing!

He feels himself scoffing as he digs through his clothes, pulling out whatever looks the most comfortable.

And it’s not like Vyncent wanted for them to know anything! Quite the opposite, it was supposed to stay a secret, but noooo, the flowers just had to mess it up for him, didn’t they?! It’s as if they did it on purpose — make him cough them out in front of his friends to make sure that they now know how screwed he is. Painting him as weak and pathetic, someone clearly in need of some help. Well, screw them! He can handle this whole hanahaki bullshit by himself, no kind help needed!

He ignores the burning thought that the only reason why he wouldn’t need any help is because he’d just ignore the flowers until he dies. Something his friends really wouldn’t want to happen.

It’s not like they can stop it from happening anyway…

His shoulders shake slightly as he leans on one of the drawers, hiding his face in his hands, his clothes abandoned on the dresser. 

Deep down, he knows lying to them was an awful idea. He should have told them the truth from the start, he knows how much they hate it when he hides something! He should have told them immediately that all of their ideas won’t work, to crush their infectious hope before it got to him. To stop them from trying because it will only lead to them being more hurt in the end, when it all turns out to be futile, like it always is with hanahaki.

But he was too scared. Too scared to face his friends and tell them the sad truth of his fate. 

Even as a dead elf walking, I’m still such a stupid fuck up…

“You’re not, Vyncent.” The familiar voice rings in his ears, his mind flooding with memories of all the times, actual, non-Head, Tide has reassured him. “You’re a good kid. One that gets in trouble too often, but good nonetheless…”

He takes a sharp breath, dragging his hands up his face. His fingers brush through his loose hair, nails scratching at his scalp in a grounding way. He opens his eyes, staring at the pile of clothes he picked out just a second ago. He slowly reaches out and takes them, feeling the soft materials that Tide himself picked out for him.

A small, shaky smile curls on his lips.

Thanks, Head Tide…

He turns back to his bed, dropping his clothes onto the unmade blankets, before slowly changing from his pajamas into them. It takes him just a few moments, which sucks because now he has no proper distractions to not spiral down his uneasy, worried mind.

He’s not even sure why he’s so stressed about today. It’s just a sleepover with Ashe and his friends, right? Right???

Not right. So not right. So not right, it’s actually just left. 

This was supposed to be just a sleepover with all of the Prime Defenders. But since Vyncent is so stupid, this nice evening now turned into a full-on operation “Figure out Vyncent’s feelings”. Because he can’t even do that alone, he’s so, so stupid—

He drew in another long breath. And he promptly throws himself into his bed, face down into the cushions. 

Save me pillows. Or kill me, that works too.

The pillows do not save him, as they are just inanimate objects that he just plunged himself into. As expected, they also don’t kill him. But, they do work great as a barrier for the proper airflow for his hurting lungs, so that’s something. 

He gets off them after a couple of moments, feeling just as bad as he did. But now with worse hair, which is impressive as he was still rocking his morning bedhead. 

He decides that tackling that would be the best thing to do, lazily making his way to where he keeps his hair accessories. At first, he puts his hair in an updo. Or rather, he tries to — somehow, his hand-hair cooperation isn’t working today, as his every attempt looks worse than the previous one. In the end, he ditches all the fancy work, instead gently brushing through his hair and letting it fall loose around his shoulders. 

And with that done, he’s basically ready to face the day.

He glances at himself in the mirror. He does not look at all ready to face anything. The tension and tiredness are pouring out of him like water from a broken faucet, which, paired with the dark bags under his eyes — residue of the week prior, looks… well, to simply put it, bad. 

Another tired sigh escapes his lips.

Maybe some breakfast will make him look less… pathetic?

Oh, who is Vyncent kidding? The mere thought of food makes his stomach twist, cramping with stress and worry. He feels that even trying to put anything in his mouth will make him puke; he’s so nervous. And judging by his incredible luck, even the smallest wave of nausea will probably make him cough up flowers, something he’d rather avoid. At least this early in the morning.

Actually… what time is it?

He glances at a small clock on his bedside table and immediately recoils.

11:50??? It’s so late already???? Why did no one wake me up??? This is horrible!!

He starts to pace nervously around the room.

This is really bad. Awfully bad! He thought he had more time to… mentally prepare himself? Or something like that. Or even just lock himself in a room and stare at the wall while pretending that everything is okay and he’s totally not freaking out. And now he doesn’t know if he has time for that! He has no clue when Ashe is coming!

And Ashe’s arrival means that he’ll need to figure out if he’s in love with them…

…is it still too late to try and give himself amnesia?

There’s a loud knock at his door, breaking him away from his panicking thoughts. 

“Vynce?” William’s hushed voice comes from behind the dark wood. “Ashe texted us that they’re already at the harbor — Tide and Dakota are going to get them.”

“Oh, okay. That’s… great—” So Ashe’s going to arrive soon, and Vyncent will have to realize if he’s got feelings for them or not. The mere idea of which fills him with so much dread that he wants to throw up even more than before. And it’s not even flowers fault this time, just his own body kicking into a panic mode.

“Can I… can I come in?” William asks, to which Vyncent just replies with a quiet hum. He doesn’t even bother looking up to his friend entering, as he focuses on maybe not puking and coughing his guts on the soft carpet in his room.

Man, I should have never agreed to that plan, why the hell did I agree to it, I should have just ran into the wild and become one with the nature—

“Uhhhh… you good dude?”

Maybe if I use Dakota as a distraction, I can sneak out of the window — then I’ll run into the woods. I’ll start my life with the animals, slowly gathering materials to build a boat. If I manage to build one, without being eaten by nature, I’ll sail back to the continent, change my name and start working as a fisherman. I’ll grow out my beard and wear those big fisherman pants — no one will recognize me! 

“Prime to Vyncent? Hello???”

Or if I’m lucky — I’ll just drown at the sea and start haunting as a ghost pirate! I’ll lure in young sailors and then drown them because that's what ghosts pirates do! And if I became a ghost, I could get William to join me and we would be ghost pirates together!

“VYNCENT—”

Two hands suddenly grab at his shoulders, forcing him to snap back from his oceanic plans and to face William’s worried face. 

“Uhhhh…” He mumbles, feeling embarrassment bloom on his face. “Sorry, I got caught up with my thoughts. What were you saying?”

William lets out a small huff, letting go of the elf’s shoulders. “I was just asking if you’re good,” He looks Vyncent up and down with a frown. “Clearly, you’re not. I can feel you overthinking from miles away — what even got you so caught up in your head anyway?”

“Ghost pirates.”

“...what?”

“It’s nothing” Vyncent shakes his hand dismissively, quickly cataloging his sailing death idea as a plan B in his head. “I’m just a little bit nervous, I guess?”

“Yeah…” William continues to stare at him, his frown twisting into a more unreadable expression that makes Vyncent feel even more uneasy. He isn’t fond of the moments when he doesn’t know what his best friend is thinking — he’s noticed that most of the times when the two weren’t in sync, things tended to go badly very easily. Well… they tended to go badly also when they were on the same page, but usually not as fast.

It also makes him feel worried that he had said something wrong. Again. Which happens to him very often — apparently telling your friend that you're surprised with how smart he is, is not the greatest of ideas. Turns out that it’s not really a compliment to him.

Who is he kidding, he didn’t say anything wrong! He is just a bit stressed about the entire situation! And maybe planning a way to run away and start living as a zombie pirate, but he hasn’t told William about that so he can’t be mad at Vyncent for that!

...but didn’t he just mention ghost pirates to Will? And since he’s a detective, maybe he has managed to figure out what Vyncent’s plan was and he’s already planning a way to stop him… Gods, Will would find a way to make him stay. He just has to give Vyncent one of his angry bossy looks that makes the elf listen and he’d be toast!

William is still staring at him, his unreadable gaze making Vyncent sweat. Oh crap, what if he can hear what Vyncent is thinking? That sounds like something William could do, he’s very strong after all and his Wisperer powers are all over the place — maybe mind reading is one of them and he just never told Vyncent? And whenever he looks at him with those weird expressions, he’s actually hearing Vyncent’s mind ramblings and judging them??

In front of him William's face shifts, now looking more uncomfortable as they’ve been just standing in silence for what feels like an hour. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but before any words can even try to leave it, Vyncent just blurs out.

“Can you read minds?”

His best friend is immediately taken aback, sputtering in confusion. It makes Vyncent think that maybe William can’t actually hear thoughts and he’s actually an idiot for even suggesting that.

“No?” William finally manages to spit out. “Why— what’s going on with you?”

Vyncent shrugs, feeling his face heat up a bit. The flowers in his chest shift slightly.

“It’s nothing!” He rubs his neck “I guess the nerves just make me overthink a bit? It’s stupid…”

He lets his hand fall from his neck and tangle in his hair nervously. He stares at the violet strands that slip through his fingers. He should probably tie it up, but for now he just let himself fiddle with it to calm some of his nerves down.

“I know that this plan was kinda my idea,” He continues, not looking up at his best friend. “But I can’t help but feel…” He trails off, his chest tightening from anxiety and flowers blooming in it. 

“...what if it’s a mistake?” He finally musters out, forcing himself to look at William. “Like even if it is Ashe or Summer or whoever else — maybe it would be better to just leave it alone?”

The dark eyes of his best friend are worried but soft, the gaze feeling like a shy but warm embrace.

“Vynce…” 

The way he says his name, so softly and tenderly. It makes Vyncent’s chest twist painfully in shame for making William worry for his stupid overthinking. He’s an adult — he should try to at least have some of his shit together and not act like a baby, whining and trying to weasel out of stuff he promised to do.

“Actually, it’s stupid—” He straightens up and turns away from William’s haunting gaze. “Ignore me, it’s just.. stupid brain being stupid, am I right?’ He laughs, although it comes out more strained than he wanted.

“Vyncent.”

A hand grabs at his arm, as William turns him back to face him. His eyes are still gentle, still looking at him softly, but now there’s a flame of seriousness in them.

“It’s not stupid, trust me I’ve heard your stupid before," he says slowly, a small smile slipping on his lips with the comment. “This isn’t that. This is a normal, nervous brain of yours.”

The cold hands slowly trace the skin on Vyncent’s arm, sending small shivers down his spine. 

“You feel scared — I don’t blame you. If I were you I’d probably run a long time ago…” William chuckles, although it lacks any humor. “I mean, love is already messy as it is and with the addition of this whole hanahaki bullshit,” He waves his hand at the elf chest. “I can’t even imagine how confusing this all feels…”

William’s gaze falls down onto the floor, but not Vyncent’s, as he keeps staring at his best friend's face. It’s clouded with thoughts, eyebrows slightly furrowed and his lip is between his teeth – a bad habit of Will that he seems to have trouble getting rid of, judging by the small scab that already is there. 

“I wouldn’t really blame you for backing out now, “ He continues. “It's your choice and we won’t be mad at you or force you to go through it.” 

The cold fingers slide down Vyncent’s arm, hesitating a bit before slowly wrapping themselves around his hand.

“But,” William whispers, finally looking up at him with an earnest gaze. “I think you should still try.”

“Really?” Vyncent’s own voice turns softer, like a hushed whisper. 

A shy smile dances on his friend’s lips. But Vyncent can’t help but notice that there’s a drop of sadness swimming in William’s eyes. 

“There’s a chance that… that your beloved… loves you,” The grip on his hand tightens. “And I don’t want you to lose out on a chance like that…”

Vyncent doesn’t know how to respond to the words coming from William’s mouth, which sound so earnest he almost believes them on the spot.

“Why do you… How are you so sure that there is a chance to begin with?” The words of insecurity spill before he can swallow them back like the petals scratching at his throat.

“Because I can’t think of a reason why they wouldn't fall in love with you.”

This one sentence feels like a hard punch to his chest, knocking the wind out of it with the weight of the sincerity that's woven into every syllable. It’s different to the pain of the flowers, because despite the pain, it feels like a gentle touch on sore, tired muscles. 

“You believe in me too much…” He barely manages to croak out, his voice raw from overwhelming emotions.

William lets out a soft chuckle.

“I think that’s my line…” 

Vyncent lets out a small whine at that, grasping at William’s hand and squeezing tightly, trying to wordlessly reassure his friend that that’s not true. That he believes in William because he trusts him more than he trusts himself. But the words don't come out, his throat closing with how much he’s feeling. The insecurities that William fights for him, the gratitude that he feels for his best friend just being there — it’s all too much for him to fully comprehend, not to mention relay to his friend.

William's smile turns sour for a second before being replaced with a softer one.

“No, but seriously,” His fingers drag on Vyncent’s skin, soothingly massaging them. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Even making a dumbass of myself?”

His friend snorts at that. “Well, it’s not like you haven’t done that before.” He chuckles again at Vyncent’s frown at the comment. “Besides… Me and Dakota promised to be there, right? We’ll stop you from completely making a fool of yourself.”

William clearly isn’t aware how much hearing that promise again impacts the elf in front of him.

“You’ll be there?” He asks, his voice sounding so small and insecure. He hates that, but he needs the confirmation, even if William just did — he needs to hear it again and again and again. Simple reassurance that his friend will keep the promise, even as simple and stupid as staying to see Vyncent try and figure out his feelings.

A small promise, meaningless in the grand scheme of things. So irrelevant that if it was broken, nothing would really change in the world compared to other promises they made. But yet, it feels just as important as all of them. 

“You won’t leave?” Vyncent tightens his grip on William’s hand, staring into his eyes. The question feels heavy on his tongue, hanging over their heads like dark clouds ready to rain. It was supposed to be about their plan, but deep down Vyncent knows it’s not, that there’s more to it. That there’s this fear in his heart, haunting him in his nightmares, the sight of his best friend’s eyes shining with fear, the cold hands slipping from his grip.

A pale body on the ground, lying on a bed of blood. Gruesomely mangled and lifeless. 

He pushes away the painful memories, instead focusing on the alive— or at least sort of alive William that's standing in front of him. 

The dark irises drill into him, like a predator digging its teeth into the prey. They seem to want to rip away his calm facade, to tear it away and let the bloody mess of his fears fall. To let all of the unspoken bleed out of him, for William to see and inspect like a detective inspects a crime scene. But Vyncent won’t let him. He’s already shown enough weakness to him. 

Enough for William to doubt him. To run away from him.

So he keeps still, returning the intense gaze, gripping William’s hands like a lifeline. Waiting for an answer, hoping it’ll calm his fears, even for just a minute.

“I won’t.” William says quietly, his gaze softening, lips twisting in what looks like a shy smile. “I promise you. I’ll be by your side.”

The words may have been whispered, but they ring like a loud bell in Vyncent’s ears.

I’ll be by your side…

A small smile creeps onto his face as William’s response spills warmth through his chest, calming his frayed nerves. He lets himself relax, loosening his grip on the other, but not letting go quite yet. The familiar cold touch feels too comforting for him to give it up so easily.

They stand like that for a second, letting the comfortable silence soak into their skin, like a warm morning rain. Vyncent wishes they could just stay like this, safely tucked away in his room, just the two of them. Away from all the dangers, all the stressful social interactions, all the stupid flowers growing in his lungs. 

Just Vyncent and William. Two best friends.

But sadly, the world hates Vyncent specifically, because immediately after having a small amount of comfort, the flowers in his lungs decide to ruin it. He feels them squirm in his lungs, digging their roots into his flesh, sending a wave of pain through his body. He tries to suppress the cough, not wanting to ruin the moment, but it’s futile. 

A few petals scratch at his throat as he hacks them up into his hand. His other hand still holds onto William’s palm, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe the burning in his throat. 

The moment is broken, their comfortable silence disappearing in a blink, replaced by a sound of coughs and hacking.

Lovely.

He glares at the small bundle that was collected in his hand. This time, he managed to cough up some blue and white petals, their colors reminiscent of those of the wisps that follow William. He’d consider giving them to William — to have him match his wisps, but they did just come out of his lungs. It would probably be rude, or at least weird, to make his friend keep his coughed-up, mushy, wet flowers.

He shoves the petals into his pocket before looking up at William.

His best friend's gaze is unreadable, although clouded in what Vyncent can only assume to be sadness. But before he can feel bad for making William sad, the other catches his gaze and quickly covers up his gloom.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

William snorts slightly before twisting his hands to grip Vyncent’s forearm, tugging him slightly.

“Come on,” He points with his head at Vyncent’s dresser. “Ashe will be here any second. You need to dress up.”

Vyncent’s eyebrows furrow at that.

“Dress up?” He tilts his head slightly, giving William a confused look. “Why?”

Now it’s William’s turn to furrow his eyebrows. 

“To look nice?” He replies slowly, before eyeing his clothes, which can only be described as a very judgemental look. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna stay like that?”

Vyncent glances down at his outfit. Sure, his “KNIFE” shirt (one of many) has a small hole on its hem, and the sweat pants he’s wearing are slightly too short for him, but they aren't that bad. They are very comfortable! Besides, he put on his best pair of socks — a dark green pair with black seven-leafed plants sewn on them. 

He looks back at William. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Instead of well-deserved approval of his fine choice of socks, Vyncent gets an eye roll and a very tired sigh.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna slide.” He drags him to the dresser, letting go of the elf’s hand to start shuffling through the drawers. “Whenever you have feelings for them or not — Ashe is our friend, and it’s good to look nice for those.”

“Really?” Vyncent says, feeling a bit skeptical about that statement. “But you never dress up nicely for me or Dakota…”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say, as the glare that he gets from William sends a cold shiver down his spine.

“To your information,” William says through his gritted teeth. “I lived with you two most of the time, so that's why I was ‘casual’ around you guys.” He returns to digging through the neatly folded clothes. “Besides, it’s not like I had time to pretty-up for you guys, not with all the stupid bullshit that tried to kill us all the time…”

“I mean, you’re already pretty, so you don't need to do that.” Vyncent shrugs. “I guess you’re right, we didn’t really have time to dress up nicely that often…”

He notices William freeze up for a moment, before letting out a small, and slightly strangled cough and going back to shuffling through Vyncent’s t-shirts, his ears lighting up with a bluish glow.

“A- anyway,” He stutters slightly, which makes Vyncent chuckle a bit. “You need to look nice.”

“Okay…” The elf decides to give in to his best friend's weird demands, stepping up behind him to look over William’s shoulder into his dresser. They stay like this for a few moments, Vyncent just observing as William makes more and more of a mess in his drawers.

“...and how am I supposed to do that?” He finally asks, deciding that enough of Tide’s cleaning work was ruined for the day.

This question makes William stop his frantic search for… something, Vyncent isn’t really sure if the other was actually looking for anything specific or if he just felt the need to make a mess in his dresser. Maybe he wanted to see if some of his own clothes weren’t there, since apparently Vyncent’s shirts managed to find their way into William’s closet.

The thought makes his chest tighten a bit, so he disregards it immediately. He doesn’t want more lung flowers ruining the mood even more.

“Uhhh…” William looks back at him, a small flustered blush still glowing on his cheeks. “I don’t know? Like it doesn’t have to be super fancy, like a suit…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Something more casual for sure… More comfy vibes, but that still looks nice on you?”

Vyncent hums at the description. So something nice but not too nice… cozy but not too cozy? If all social interactions have a confusing dress code like that, Vyncent is going to become a hermit, living in the middle of the woods, far away from any humans. Or a ghost pirate— that way he’ll only need to wear pirate clothes, and if someone doesn’t like it he’ll just shoot them with a cannon!

Wait… pirate clothes are nice… and they are probably comfortable because pirates fight in them… what if…

He considers the idea for a moment, but then realizes that William probably doesn’t want him to dress up as a pirate. It kinda sounds too fancy, which is not what they are going for. Also, Vyncent is like 70% sure that he sadly doesn’t own a big captain hat. Truly a shame, he needs to get one as soon as possible, in case he goes through with the pirate plan.

What clothes do I actually have?

He’s not really sure. Most of his clothes were bought by Tide after all, and while he did take a peek at them, he’s not really into fashion, so he has no clue how to pair them well. He knows the basics — t-shirts and pants are worn together and, if it's cold — you add on a jacket or a hoodie. But that’s where his fashion knowledge ends, at least the Prime’s kind. And judging from what his friends wear, there must be more to it that he has simply yet to discover. 

Wait a minute….

He steals a quick glance at the man in front of him. William is looking nice, which isn't something new — after all, he is pretty. But even judging by his outfit, his friend clearly made an effort to dress up. He is wearing two shirts, a striped one with long sleeves, with a black t-shirt put on top of it — a complicated combination for Prime’s fashion that's for sure, but one that seemed to somehow work. He is also wearing a baggy pair of pants, that are so big that they had to be fastened with a big spiked belt, to which William attached a couple of cool-looking chains. His friend was also decked with a whole stack of jewelry, from his earlobes to his fingers — they all glistened with silver and black metals.

On his neck shines the familiar wolf pendant, its blue gem shining nicely in the soft light of the room.

Vyncent can’t help but hum in appreciation.

“You look nice right now…” He says slowly, still staring William up and down. “Do you have any tips for me?”

Momentarily, William’s entire face turns a nice shade of deep blue.

“M-Me?” He stutters, his eyes widening at the comment. “You think I look nice?”

Vyncent shrugs. “That’s what I said, right? I mean, clearly you know more about fashion than me.” He adds, while pointing at William’s clothes. “Like I would have even thought of pairing two shirts together — not gonna lie, I was pretty sure that that was against the rules here — and you somehow make it look good!”

The blue on his friend's cheeks darkens as William's face twists with a mixture of giddiness and torment — an expression that on any other person's face would worry Vyncent, but on William’s it meant that the compliment landed well. 

“Well— uhh,” The other boy turns away, clearly trying to hide his blush, but failing as his ears and the back of his neck are just as blue as his face. Vyncent has to stop himself from laughing at that sight. 

“Thank you! That’s— I— You’re also looking cool!” William’s voice turns into more of a squeak, which makes Vyncent’s ears twitch. ”I mean, not right now— I mean, you always look great, because you have a great face, it’s just you’re not dressed up— Anyway,” His voice cracks, making Vyncent wince a little. “I’ll see what I can do—”

Before Vyncent can even respond, William bolts to his closet, ditching his now messy dresser. He opens it and immediately starts digging through it, just like he did before. 

Vyncent just sighs, trying not to think about how much of a mess he’ll need to clean up later, as he moves after William to help him ‘dress up nicely’.

They begin their search by looking through his clothes, picking out the ones that they both seem to like. They go through several different options - William even makes him put on one of the nice cotton poet shirts that Tide bought him. It fitted him well, at least according to Will, but it was way too formal for a sleepover. 

In the end, they’ve decided to go with a simple pairing of a white t-shirt that has three buttons right at the top, with a pair of brown pants. William also managed to find a long buttoned-up sweater (a “cardigan” is apparently its name) that he promptly put on Vyncent, explaining that its deep green color complements his hair very nicely. Vyncent was a bit skeptical at first — he wasn’t a big sweater guy, as usually they were just too scratchy for him to handle — but this one was surprisingly soft and the greens of the wool nicely contrasted with his purple hair.

He stares at himself in the mirror, admiring his new favorite outfit. Overall, William was right — now he looked nice.

“So,” William shows up behind him, also staring at his reflection in the mirror with a small smile. “What do you think?”

He immediately turns to his friend with a big grin. 

“You’re amazing!” He says, feeling his ears twitch slightly from excitement. “I didn’t even know I could look this good in Prime’s clothes!”

William snorts and playfully rolls his eyes at him. 

“Yeah, right.” He crosses his hands over his chest, raising one of his eyebrows at the elf with a smirk. “You could wear literally a trash bag and you’d still have people fawning over you," he says, his tone slightly sharper than usual.

Now it’s Vyncent’s turn to blush at the compliment.

“Aww…” He rubs at his neck bashfully, feeling his ears heat up. “I doubt it…”

William doesn’t respond, continuing to stare at him, clearly unconvinced.

“Anyway!” Vyncent quickly looks away. His chest tightens painfully, with the flowers scratching on his flesh, but he ignores it. He’s starting to get used to random stabs of pain, as messed up as it sounds. Maybe it’ll be good training, gradually raising his pain tolerance for the future. At least for the future he’s got left. 

His gaze falls on the small pile of silver and gold on his nightstand.

“Should I wear jewelry?” He asks, unsure if adding anything more would ruin the whole cozy aesthetic William dressed him in. 

“Oh? I mean, if you want to,” William glances at where his jewelry stash is laid. “What do you have there?”

They spend another few minutes looking through his trinkets, trying to match something that would pair up with his outfit. William didn’t seem to recognize many of them, so it was nice to show them all off. Hell, few pairs even caught his friend’s attention, and he had to promise to borrow some of his earrings for their next outing. He also wanted to borrow some of the rings, but it turns out that William’s hands are smaller than Vyncent’s, so the metal bands would slip off his fingers way too easily.

For some reason, that revelation made the flowers in his chest move so suddenly that for a second Vyncent wondered if they made a backflip.

Finally, a pair of silver earrings was picked — silver chains with small swords dangling from them, as well as a small stud that he put through a second piercing in his ears. They also considered one of the rings, but in the end decided against it, letting his hands go bare.

He stares at himself in the mirror, admiring their work. He looked great! Casual, but the new clothes and earrings really highlighted his features. Also he managed to convince William to keep his previous socks on, which in his eyes was the biggest win. But in the back of his mind, something kept bothering him, as if there was something missing to fully complete the outfit.

The realization hits him as his fingers brush through his hair, grazing lightly against his naked neck.

“Oh, wait! I almost forgot the most important part.” He quickly runs up to his bedside table and opens its drawer. Inside rests his wolf pendant, lying among his other prized possessions — mostly his knife collection, his credit card collection and a few cool rocks he had found during their adventures. The purple crystal shines in the sunlight as Vyncent pulls it out and immediately puts it on.

He turns back to William with a wide grin. “There! Now I’m ready!”

To his surprise, his best friend doesn’t seem to share the same opinion, as he watches the small confusion William’s face twist into a grimace at the sight of the pendant. The reaction makes Vyncent’s heart twist with confusion, causing the flowers in his lungs to shuffle as well. Does William not like his necklace? But why, it’s their symbol of friendship — he’s even wearing the matching one right now!

“Is everything okay?” He finally manages to ask, scared of what the answer could be.

“Oh? Uh yeah… It’s just” William’s grimace doesn’t fall as the teen looks away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t think you should wear that today…”

Vyncent feels his entire face scrunch up in confusion. 

“Why?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Well…” William continues to avoid his gaze. “I don’t think it’s the most appropriate moment to wear it…”

This did not explain anything to Vyncent. Quite the opposite, he was even more confused with William’s sudden sour attitude towards their necklaces. 

He glances at his friend’s own chest, where the matching pendant glistens with blue, before looking back at William’s face with a raised eyebrow. 

“You are wearing yours, though.” He points out. “If you have yours on, why can’t I?”

A small blush appears on his friend’s cheeks, but gets quickly overshadowed by William’s face twisting in a scoff. 

“Well, I’m not trying to woo someone, am I?” He says in a sharper tone.

“Neither am I?” Vyncent quickly retorts. Why is William so snappish with him lately? “I thought we agreed that we’re gonna hang out and see if Ashe is… ‘the one’.”

William’s haunted eyes stare at him for a moment.

“...right.” He finally whispers, looking away. The previous irritation deflates in a blink, replaced by anxiously tense shoulders and a lower lip between the teeth.

Vyncent wants to ask him what’s going on. To wrap his arms around the smaller frame and discover what’s bothering his friend. Did something happen to William when he was gone? Did someone hurt him? Did Vyncent do something wrong? Did he mess up again and make William all cold like he did before?

(He still doesn’t know what that time was about.)

Before he can even open his mouth, a loud bang can be heard from outside his room. Followed by multiple voices, some of them yelling, echoing through the quiet building. Both of the teens look at the direction of the door, the previous tension broken — but not entirely gone.

“That must be them…” William says slowly. Vyncent hums in acknowledgement.

“We should probably go there.”

“Yeah.”

The dark eyes glance back at him.

“You ready?” The question is more of a whisper, but it rings in Vyncent’s ears like a temple’s bell.

He takes a deep breath, feeling the air flutter the flowers in his lungs. It’s not pleasant — it’s a slightly tickling sensation, but it’s better than pain.

“Yep.” He responds, before he changes his mind and decides that becoming a ghost pirate is a much better idea. “Let’s do this.”

—

As they move through the corridors of the base, the only noise accompanying them is their own footsteps and the voices of their friends echoing through the empty rooms. The silence isn’t suffocating, but it’s not pleasant either. The lack of distractions only fuels the paranoid voices in Vyncent’s head, whispering all the possibilities of how things could go wrong. From simple misunderstandings and awkward moments to world-shattering friendship breakups — everything is on the table in his mind. Well, maybe except things going swimmingly well, that never happens in his life.

He’s just in the middle of imagining a scenario where he manages to compliment Ashe so badly that he somehow manages to bring back the Trickster, when a cold hand brushes against his wrist. The sudden chilling sensation sends a shiver down his spine, making him flinch violently. He snaps his gaze to the source, and he’s faced with wide-eyed William, who’s stiffened at his outburst.

“Will,” He says, grasping at his chest where his heart beats slightly faster than usual. “You spooked me.”

“I didn’t mean to…” William whispers softly. 

“It’s fine,” Vyncent waves his hand dismissively. “Not your fault, you’re one creepy guy.”

An offended squeak leaves his friend's mouth as he gives the elf an insulted glare.

“What?” Vyncent asks with a smirk. “It’s not like I’m wrong!”

William huffs and opens his mouth to probably throw back a snarky comment, when the door to the kitchen opens with a small creak.

“Oh, Vyncent! William!” Tide exclaims with a big smile as he stands in the now-opened doors. “There you guys are! Come say hi to our guests!” He opens the door wider before adding with a sheepish smile. “Also, pass me the broom, please? It’s right behind you guys — Dakota somehow managed to already break a glass.”

Vyncent nods and grabs the broom that's leaning on the wall behind. It was probably left there by Tide when he went on a cleaning spree yesterday. For some reason, he was very determined to make the house look spotless. He quietly passes it to his mentor, who takes it with a grin and shuffles back into the kitchen.

Well, I guess that only leaves us to go see our guests… 

Wait a minute—

He glances at William with confusion, mouthing the word “Guests?” at the other teen. William just shrugs back, seemingly just as surprised as him. Apparently, neither of them didn’t expect anyone other than Ashe. And the addition of someone new might complicate things…

A tired sigh escapes the elf. 

Better see who’s visiting us as well…

The two step into the brightly lit room, where they are met with a sight they weren’t expecting.

In the middle of the room stands Dakota, balancing gracefully on his two hands with a determined grin. There’s a tall glass propped on one of his feet sticking out in the air, a second one lies broken on the floor, where Tide quickly scurries over with the broom.

“No, Tide!” Dakota yells, causing the other glass on his foot to wobble, but surprisingly not fall. “Don’t clean up! I’ll do it! WITH MY FEET!”

Tide doesn’t listen, instead sweeping all the broken glass into a neat pile.

“I won’t be doing that,” he retorts with a tired sigh. “Now move back, before you get glass in your hands.”

“I CAN HANDLE, heh, SOME GLASS IN MY HANDS—”

“Please stop…” Another, much quieter voice pipes in from the side. “Both the glass thing and the puns…”

The two turn to where the voice came from, and there stands Ashe, in all their glory, leaning against one of the kitchen counters and holding a glass of what looks like orange juice. Their favourite beanie is missing from their head, allowing their long silver hair to cascade freely down their neck and shoulders, like a stream down a mountain. They dressed in some loose clothing: some dark and wide pants and an oversized t-shirt branded with a faded image of a man being abducted by a rainbow and some sort of logo.

…”Imagine… dragons”? Well, if you insist…

That’s a big beast…

Wrapped around Ashe’s waist is a black hoodie and judging from a big Ms. G emblem imprinted on its front, it belonged to Dakota at some point. 

This makes Vyncent wonder if he’s the only one of the Prime Defenders who has yet to steal some clothes from his friends….

He pushes that thought aside, letting the biggest grin appear on his face.

“Ashe!” He walks up to his friend, wrapping them up in a quick but tight hug. “I missed you!”

Ashe returns the smile, although theirs is much more shy.

“Yeah,” They rub the back of their neck, cheeks turning slightly pink under Vyncent’s gaze. “We haven’t actually seen each other in a while, have we?”

“And I know exactly the reason for that!” William appears beside the two of them. “It’s all the college’s fault — it’s keeping you two away from each other and us!” He throws his hands up in the air in theatrical frustration, before adding more sheepishly. “Also, hi…”

“Hi,” the two hug, although Vyncent wouldn’t call it a proper embrace as the two just leaned in and patted each other on the back, before immediately stepping back with a smile. “And I agree — we should totally abolish the educational institutions that are universities.”

“Yes!” Dakota yells from behind them, still gracefully balancing on his hands. “No more higher education!”

“You can do that, but try to do it after you finish it and before we pay off all of your student loans, how about that?” A new, much raspier voice suddenly joins in, startling Vyncent.

They all turn to face the source, only to see that there’s another person in the kitchen, standing next to the fridge with a mug. A tall and muscular man, with slightly dishevelled blonde hair and half of his body disfigured by green reptile scales. 

“Mark?” William exclaims with surprise and confusion — the exact same emotions Vyncent was feeling as well. “What are you doing here?”

The older man shrugs as he sips from the cup. “I was invited.”

“Why???”

Dakota, now freed from the foot glass, swiftly flips back onto his feet. “That’s what I asked too!”

Mark rolls his eyes before replying. “Ask Waterboy over here. He was the one to invite me.”

Immediately, all of the teens snap their heads to Tide.

“Guys, stop being rude to our guests.” The man states, ignoring their questioning looks. “Also, pass me the dustpan.”

“We aren’t rude to our guest.” William insists as he grabs the plastic pan and passes it to their mentor. “We’re rude to Mark, who’s apparently your guest.”

“YEAH!” Dakota chimes in. “Our guest is Ashe! And only Ashe!” He declares, throwing his arm around Ashe’s shoulders, causing the taller teen to hunch over in this side hug.

Tide sweeps all the glass pieces before looking at them with a disappointed frown. Mark, on the other hand, snickers quietly into his mug.

“I told ya’ that’s what would happen," he says to Tide with a smug smirk, before taking another sip.

“Shush, you—”

Vyncent glances at William, catching his equally confused gaze.

“What the hell is happening?” He mouths to his friend.

“No fucking clue.” William mouths back with a slight shake of his head.

In the meantime, their mentor manages to successfully clean up all of the glass off the floor and dump it into the trashcan under the sink.

“There!” They all watch as Tide hides the dustpan and leans the broom at one of the walls. “Now we won’t have to worry about any teen or spidermonkey getting glass stuck in their feet!”

“BOBO!” Dakota yells, startling all of them. He grabs Ashe by the shoulders, as he basically shouts into their face. “YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS NEW TRICK I TAUGHT HIM— WAIT HERE, I’LL GET HIM!”

Before anyone can properly react to that, Dakota bolts out of the room with some impressive speed and disappears in the empty corridors of their base, leaving all of them in a sudden and awkward silence.

“Sooooo…” Vyncent finally speaks up, glancing between Tide and the door through which Dakota just ran out. “Is anyone going to explain why he was doing all that?”

To his disappointment, it's not Tide who answers his question, as Mark shrugs nonchalantly.

“He’s just a weird kid...” He says, staring into his cup as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “Doing random unexplainable stuff for no reason… isn’t that just his entire personality?”

Okay, you dickhead…

I mean… he is right, but still. Dickhead.

Tide’s face twists in exhaustion that was all too familiar to Vyncent — the “I’m too tired for this, but at the same time, please stop.” — before speaking up with a sigh. 

“You dared him to do it.”

“No, he was the one claiming he could hold two glasses on his feet while doing a handstand. I just called bullshit on that.” The older man gives Tide a grin that can only be described as shit-eating. “Not my fault, he was so keen on proving me wrong.”

Ashe groans, giving their smug-looking father a very tired look. “Dad, you realize you’re beefing with a teen, right?”

“Once you're my age, you'll understand that some teens need to be beefed with,” Mark replies with a shrug.  “Besides, you’re all over 18. We might be callin’ you kids, but in reality you're all adults.” He adds, his eyes turning softer.

Vyncent can sense the bittersweet note in his voice, which slightly surprises him. As if the man is both happy to see his kid grow up, but there’s an underlying regret there. As if he’s disappointed that he wasn’t that much involved in that process. It feels odd to see a glimpse of what seems to be Mark’s true parental feelings.

“What does that have to do with you having a weird rivalry with Dakota?” Ashe speaks up, voicing what they all have been thinking.

“Means that if he pisses me off, I can just fight him,” Mark replies nonchalantly. “Or shoot him if I'm in a hurry.”

The faces of everybody in the room twist with different levels of outrage at that statement.

“Don't shoot him!” Ashe scolds their father, eyes burning with disbelief that their dad would even suggest that. Which Vyncent finds a bit ironic, considering that apparently Mark did try to shoot Dakota, back when Ashe was still possessed by the Trickster. 

He decides not to mention it, for the sake of Ashe’s sanity.

“Yeah!” He instead yells, glaring at the half-lizard man. “He's no longer a minor; now he can actually get shot!”

“Yea— wait what???” Ashe looks back at him with a confused frown.

Vyncent stops staring daggers at Mark, glancing back at the bewildered expression on his friend’s face. 

“...You can’t get shot when you’re a minor?” He explains slowly. “ That's what Dakota said.”

Ashe’s frown deepens as he stares at the elf with utter disbelief, soundlessly tripping over their words before loudly blurring out.

“No???”

“...are you sure?”

The silver eyebrows on Ashe’s forehead scrunch together so hard that it looks almost painful. 

“A certain scar on my body is pretty fucking sure.”

Mark clicks his tongue at that, before muttering quietly. “Language.”

“English.” Ashe retorts without any hesitation, before jerking their head back in the direction of his father with an accusatory look. “Also, what the hell? You swear around me all the time?”

“I think we’ve all agreed that I'm an awful role model.”

“You’re my dad.”

“...well shit, you got me there, chum.”

Ashe groans at the nickname, which only makes their father laugh. Vyncent also almost lets out a chuckle, but luckily he manages to suppress it in time. He would never allow himself to laugh at Mark’s jokes. Not even if it was the funniest joke in the entire universe. 

“Those are still alive?”

Vyncent looks back at Mark, who’s now staring at the blooming flowers on the windowsill. 

Tide huffs. “I know how to take care of some flowers, for your information.” He crosses his arms across his chest, looking away. His cheeks seem to darken slightly.

“Besides, it’s been what? Two days?” He adds with a pout. “It’d be more outrageous if I managed to kill them so quickly.”

Mark barks out a quiet laugh at Tide’s words. 

“I never doubted you, Waterboy." he says with a smirk.

Their mentor gives him an unimpressed look.

“You were surprised that I haven’t killed them, not even a second ago.”

“I was more surprised that your kids haven’t managed to— I don’t know, eat them? Or at least set them on fire.”

“They wouldn’t— okay, maybe they would, but—”

Vyncent tunes out their bickering about whenever the three of them would or would not eat some random flowers they found. 

(They would. But Mark doesn’t need to know that.)

He feels an elbow slightly dig at his side, bringing his attention to William, who’s staring at him with a slightly confused expression.

“Hey,” He whispers to Vyncent, so not to be heard by the two squabbling adults. “What’s the deal with the flowers? Since when do we even have them?”

He leans closer to his shorter friend, noticing in the corner of his eye that Ashe also shuffles in to listen to his explanation.

“Well, yesterday during breakfast, Tide mentioned getting them from a friend…” Vyncent starts explaining, eyeing the suspiciously friendly interactions between the two older men. “He didn’t say who, but—” He leans in even closer to the two and whispers. “Me and Dakota thought it could be from… you know…”

Ashe raises their eyebrows in confusion, but William seems to catch on as he lets out a soft gasp.

“The secret lover?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, get it Tide, I guess…” Ashe mumbles under their breath. Their eyebrows furrow as they gaze back at the flowers, staring intently at the colorful petals. 

“That's funny… I could have sworn that we had the same type of flowers at home like a few days ago…” 

“That is indeed a funny coincidence.”

“Yeah, but they disappeared like… three days ago?” Their friend shrugs. “Dad didn’t mention anything, so I didn’t ask.”

“Maybe Mark killed them accidentally…” William suggests with a smirk. “He let them die and hid the evidence so you wouldn’t notice.”

“Hm. That does sound like him…”

Vyncent is about to agree, because that’s something that Mark would do for sure, when Ashe’s words fully hit him.

“Wait a minute…” He says slowly, feeling dread slowly rise in his stomach at the idea that forms in his head. “Did you just say they disappeared three days ago?”

His two friends look back at him with confusion.

“Uhhh..  yeah?” Ashe confirms, hands nervously playing with their silver hair. “At least I seemed that way? Like they were gone by Saturday morning so—”

Oh fuck.

A sharp breath escapes Vyncent’s lips before he can fully digest what it all means. This can’t be happening, this is the worst possible thing that could be happening to them at this moment! Maybe except someone dying at the spot. Or the lich escaping from prison. Or Mallard suddenly showing up to torture them all and—

Okay, so maybe there are worse scenarios, but this one is just as awful.

Some of the dread has to show on his face, because William and Ashe lean in with worried expressions.

“Vynce?”

“HegotthemonSaturday—” He immediately blurts out, barely managing to keep his voice quiet, to not catch their mentor's attention.

“What?”

Vyncent takes a shaky breath before looking at his friends and explaining.

“Tide got flowers on Saturday…” He whispers with a shaken tone. “He mentioned getting them from a friend before picking me up from the station…”

He sees William’s dark eyes widen in pure horror.

“You came in the late afternoon… and Tide left in the morning…” He finishes Vyncent’s explanation, slowly lowering his head into his hands, struck with the realization it's too heavy for all of them to handle.

“...Mark went out on Saturday morning, because of some business…” Ashe adds, their eyes turning more and more hollow with every passing second.

They stand like this for a moment, completely in shock at what they just discovered. Suffocating silence falls between them, only interrupted by the bickering of the two older men in the background, which, in the grand scheme of things, makes this situation ten times worse as it reminds them why they are in this state.

Finally, Vyncent whispers slowly, hoping with everything in soul that they are somehow wrong, that it’s all one big coincidence.

“Are… are Mark and Tide…” He can’t even finish his question, too afraid that the answer will destroy the last shred of denial he’s grasping onto. 

“Ashe… please tell me this isn’t happening…” William says, staring at their friend with hopeless pleading eyes.

Their friend closes their eyes with a grimace.

“Don’t.” They whisper through their teeth. “Don’t ask. I don’t know and I don’t want to—”

At that moment, the kitchen doors burst open with a loud bang, and Dakota runs back into the room.

“I FOUND BOBO!” He yells out with a grin. He is clutching his spidermonkey close to himself, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Said spidermonkey doesn’t seem to be bothered by that at all, as Bobo looks very relaxed in Dakota’s tight grip and only perking up at the sight of the people gathered in the room. “DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SEE THE COOL PARKOUR TRICKS I TAUGHT HIM?”

“Please, no parkour in the kitchen,” Tide states with a stern but visibly pleading expression. “I just replaced the dishes after the last time…”

“Okay… but this time it’s not me doing it!” Dakota replies with a pout, shoving the adorable monkey into his mentor's face. “It’s Bobo’s turn! Look at that cute guy — he can do no wrong, right?”

Tide doesn’t seem to agree, as he just raises one of his eyebrows in skepticism at the blatant emotional manipulation happening in front of him.

“No parkour in the kitchen — that applies to both humans, elves and spidermonkeys. End of discussion.” Their mentor repeats firmly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You can do the tricks in the living room — just don’t break the TV.”

“But Tideeeeeeee…” Dakota whines, giving the man a very sad look. “There are no snacks in the living room…”

A deep and tired sigh escapes from the older hero. “Alright, I’ll bring the snacks for you guys, how about that?”

The redhead’s entire demeanor instantly switches from the pitiful kicked puppy into a cheerful ball of excitement.

“Thank you, Tide!!! We love you!!!” He yells with a big grin, putting Bobo on his shoulder and grabbing Ashe’s hand, pulling the taller teen in the direction of the door. “Let’s go!”

Their friend doesn’t get the chance to respond as they get unceremoniously dragged out of the room within a second. Vyncent and William glance at each other before following their two teammates to the living room. Instead of the run that Dakota forced upon Ashe, the two decide to march leisurely, as a comfortable silence falls between them.

Vyncent can’t help but glance at his best friend, watching the black and white curls bounce against the pale neck and how his pendant shines slightly in the dim lights of the corridor they are walking through. He notices that William’s lips are slightly curled up, a whisper of a smile dancing on his features. It’s a quirk that he has noticed his best friend does — when William feels the most relaxed, the neutral, almost creepy stare that he has melts from his face, replaced by this soft smile.

This sight makes Vyncent’s chest warm up, only to have a sudden stab of pain run through him, almost making him choke. Thankfully, he stops the flowers from coming up, as he takes a few deeper breaths to calm himself down, as they continue their walk to the living room.

When they reach the room, they see that it’s already turned upside down — with the pillows thrown all around the furniture and floor. They watch from the doorway as the small monkey jumps from one pillow to another, doing flips and spins so effortlessly that it leaves the two of them in shock. Ashe also seems to be amazed by the animal’s tricks, as they watch it all from the couch, eyes wide in astonishment. The only person not surprised by Bobo’s skillful performance is Dakota, who joyfully cheers and yells suggestions for the monkey to follow. He even makes William create some ghost obstacles to show off even more of the little one’s skills

After a few more minutes of the parkour show, Bobo seems to tire himself out, as he jumps on top of the table. He proudly bows to them, which earns him a mountain of applause from the impressed teens.

They all then pile on the soft cushions of the couches in the room, cleaning up all the discarded pillows, before Tide comes in and sees the mess Dakota has managed to create in less than a minute.

A silence falls in the room, as the four of them stare at each other with a mixture of awkwardness and confusion as to what’s next to come.

“So…” Vyncent speaks up, deciding to finally speak up. “What are we going to do?”

Ashe shrugs slightly, leaning deeper into the couch. “Don’t ask me, I’ve never been on a proper sleepover. The closest thing that I’ve been to it’s that one time when we went to the cabin and it rained blood.”

Dakota snaps his head, looking at them as if they suddenly grew a second head.

“YOU’VE NEVER BEEN ON A SLEEPOVER??” He yells with surprise

Ashe’s face twists, baffled. “That’s… literally what I've just said?”

“THAT’S SO SAD. SLEEPOVERS ARE THE BEST.”

“Please stop rubbing my lack of friends in my face—”

“Well,” William interrupts them, stretching on the chair. 

His shirt rolls up a bit, showing a small sliver of the pale skin hidden underneath. Vyncent can’t help but stare at it for a moment — William’s abdomen seems to be even paler than the rest of his body. 

“When I had my own sleepovers back in Deadwood, we’d just go to the woods to find another mystery to solve. That usually took a few hours, so usually by the end we’d just go back home and crash.”

“No mystery solving!” They all snap their heads to the door where Tide now stands, all in his fatherly glory, equipped with a tray of snacks and his iconic pink apron. “I love you guys, but I can’t handle another magical-interdimensional-or otherworldly crisis that always comes from this kind of shenanigans.”

He walks into the room, setting the tray on the small coffee table in the middle of the room. It’s overflowing with different sweet and salty treats as well as four steaming cups with what looks to be some tea. There’s also a small bowl of beef stroganoff, hidden in between the packs of chips. 

“We don’t always cause crises,” Dakota replies with a pout. “That only happens… most of the time…”

One of Tide’s eyebrows rises high up as their mentor gives Dakota a very unimpressed gaze, which the teen tries to ignore by opening one of the packs of chips and devouring half of it in a few seconds.

“Exactly— you guys get into trouble way too easily. And I’m no gambler, so I won’t be betting if you guys will get mixed up with another villain attack!” He straightens up with a deep sigh. “I want a calm — or at least as calm as you can do — evening.” 

Despite his words, there’s a small, kind smile on his lips.

Dakota looks up at him with confusion, a chip, dipped in what looks to be beef stroganoff, halfway to his mouth. 

“And you invited Mark to do what? Have him sedate you with some villain drug?” He shoves the chip into his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Or whatever villain thing he’s got going on now… How’s that relaxing?”

Vyncent feels himself stiffen up at the question. Did Dakota not connect the dots with the flowers? Is he just teasing?

…oh no…. Dakota left the kitchen, didn’t he?

He glances at the rest of his friends. Ashe looks like a deer caught in the headlights, glancing between Tide and Dakota frantically, meanwhile William’s wide eyes are sending daggers forwards their friend with a silent plea of “shut up," which Dakota doesn’t seem to notice. 

Tide, on the other hand, has a much different reaction — to Vyncent’s horror, a small blush seems to appear on his mentor’s face as he lets out a strained chuckle.

“Mark is here because he offered to fix my bike,” He replies quickly, nervousness oozing from his stiffened frame like a waterfall. “He’s pretty handy with machines after all…” 

One of his hands starts playing with the hem of his pink apron. He looks like a nervous schoolgirl talking about her crush, except Tide is a full-grown man, as well as Vyncent’s mentor, and he’s talking about Mark fucking Winters—

To say that Vyncent is having a small internal breakdown would be a lie, as he’s having a big breakdown at the thought of his fish dad being in any way close with Mark. And judging from the hollowness in William’s eyes, and Ashe’s now crumbled posture paired with their head in their hands — he’s not the only one.

The only one not affected by this conversation is Dakota, who looks more confused if anything.

“Your bike?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side. “But you’ve said you’re the one who fixes it, ‘cause’ you know it the best. Why do you need Mark suddenly?”

DAKOTA STOP—

Tide’s face darkens even more as he sputters, flustered. Vyncent feels a little bit bad, knowing that Tide clearly didn’t prepare for this kind of questioning and being put on the spot like that always sucks — Vyncent knows that well. But at the same time, Tide is the reason why now the rest of them are dealing with what feels like 5d4 psychic damage, so maybe this is just karma. 

Karma, that hurts them too — with even more psychological trauma.

Is this the Gods punishing me for all the stabbing I’ve done? And arson? And other property damage? And accidental manslaughter— man, I am not a good person, am I? Maybe I do deserve this…

“Uhhh…” Tide fumbled, looking away nervously. “Well, uh. I wanted… an upgrade? Yes! An upgrade!” He lets out an almost hysterical laugh, that’s an octave higher than Tide’s normal low voice. “I wanted the engine to run smoother, and since Mark built most of his equipment. He clearly has a steady hand and his way around delicate machinery… I thought that maybe he could… show me some tricks?”

Vyncent just hides his face in his hands, hoping for the sake of his and his friends' sanity that Tide is still talking about his bike.

“ANYWAY!” Tide makes a beeline for the door. “Have fun, guys! And don’t start another apocalypse!” And with those warnings, he exits.

The silence that falls in the room is more than suffocating, as they all refuse to look at each other, hoping that somehow that will undo whatever just happened in front of them.

Well. Most of them at least…

“...that was weird, right guys?” Dakota turns to them, his face twisted in a confused and slightly worried expression. “Like, he is hiding something, I’m sure of it.”

“Dakota, please…” Ashe just whimpers, leaning back onto the couch. They bring their legs up, tucking their face into them, slowly rolling themselves into what looks to be a ball of embarrassment.

Confusion now fully overtakes redhead’s features.

“What???”

Vyncent decides to just bite the bullet, as he straightens up with a sigh.

“The flowers…” He starts, but immediately trails off. How is he supposed to break the horrifying news of their mentor’s questionable choice of men? 

And the only question I have is TIDE WHY???

Dakota doesn’t seem to understand his vague hint, which is fair but frustrating nonetheless. He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head to stare at the elf with bewilderment. “What? The kitchen ones? What about them?”

Vyncent tries to think of some way of telling Dakota about their realization, but in the end his mind is just blank. So he decides that maybe the best way to go is to be honest…

“They are from Mark…” He finally mumbles out.

The redhead stares at him with a frown for a couple of seconds before a look of sudden realization finally dawns on his face.

“Ooooh…”

“Yeah…”

“Man,” Dakota leans back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest with a disappointed huff. “I was hoping it was from the secret lover Tide had! This is so disappointing!”

…wait. Did he not?

William seemed to be as baffled with Dakota’s response as Vyncent was, as he gazed at the redhead with deeply furrowed eyebrows.

“Wha— Dakota.” He says with a firm voice, to catch his friend’s attention.

Dakota glances back at him with a soft hum, confused as to why William looks like he just ate a lemon.

“They. Are. From. Mark.” Vyncent repeats slowly, hoping that it’ll make Dakota’s brain click.

It doesn’t, as their friend just looks even more lost, glancing between them with confusion. “...yes? You’ve told me?”

The rest don’t respond, instead staring at him with expectant looks, not wanting to be the ones to explain what they meant. Saying it outright would feel like a true confirmation — the final nail in the coffin of their mentor truly having no taste, nor self-respect.

For the next couple of moments Dakota seems to get more and more worried by their silence, looking around fully bewildered when suddenly it all clicks and the horrifying realization of what they truly meant dawns on the redhead’s face.

“No…”

“Yeah…” Ashe mumbles from under their palms that still cover their face.

“NO—” Dakota grips Vyncent’s shoulders, shaking him with a terrified and disgusted expression. “THIS IS THE WORST THAT EVER HAPPENED. AND I MEAN THE WORST—”

“I don't know, man. I can think of few other things that are worse…” William counters while looking up at the ceiling with a hollow stare.

Dakota snaps his head to the dead teen. “LIKE WHAT?”

“Dying.” William says blankly.

“Being possessed by a demon.” Ashe adds.

“A flower growing inside of you?” Vyncent says, unsure if his current state is comparable to the two previous ones.

Ashe pulls the hands off their face, looking at Vyncent with surprise. “Wait, wha-”

“You guys all suck…” Dakota grumbles. slumping back on the couch. 

William smirks at that. 

“I can also swallow, if you ask nice—” He gets stopped mid-sentence by a pillow smack.

“STOP BEING HORNY! THIS IS A TRAGEDY!” Dakota raises one of the couch cushions and starts to relentlessly bring it down onto William’s face.

“IT WAS A JOKE— NO DAKOTA, STOP—” 

The other tries to stop this continuous attack, but with no avail — Dakota continues to beat him mercilessly with his new, soft but mighty, weapon. William stands no chance against his friend’s wrath on a normal day, but now, with Dakota being newly traumatized by their new discovery? Let’s just say that it’s a good thing William is already kinda dead. 

Vyncent observes their “battle," or rather “Dakota’s total smackdown of a defenseless William” with a mild interest. After living with them for months, he’s used to their violent shenanigans, and he’s even slightly embarrassed to admit that he missed seeing them in person. 

“Should we stop them?” Ashe asks, inching closer to the elf, as they glance between him and the heartless attempt at murder with a pillow. 

Vyncent just gives them an unenthusiastic look.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Ashe says back with a nod and leans back on the cushions.

“It's not like Dakota can kill him.” Vyncent remarks with a shrug.

“True.” Ashe’s lips curl into a small smile at that.

“VYNCENT, HELP ME—” William finally manages to shriek out in between the senseless beating he’s receiving.

The elf purses his lips as he hums, staring at the other. He starts stroking his bearded chin, pretending to intensively consider William’s pleas.

“Hmmmmm…”

“VYNCE—”

“Do I really have to?” He says, feeling a teasing smile creep onto his lips. “Sounds like a lot of work…”

“Yeah, and this is actually entertaining to watch—” Ashe chimes in, a matching smirk on their face.

William sends them murderous glares.

“OH, YOU ASS–” His furious response gets immediately interrupted with another blow from a pillow.

The two watch their friend get massacred for another couple of moments — Dakota being one unyielding fighter means that William stands almost no chance at getting away from him. Except maybe turning intangible and slipping out of the other boy’s grasp, but William doesn’t seem to remember he had that ability, and for the sake of entertainment, Vyncent isn’t planning on reminding him about that.

But after another round of hits, the elf starts to feel a little bit of pity for his best friend and decides that maybe it’s enough of William torture.

“Okay, fine…” He grumbles with a tired sigh, before swiftly getting up and seamlessly slipping the assaulting pillow out of Dakota’s grasp. “There. The pillow is no more.”

Dakota immediately tries to steal it back, jumping up and trying to grab it. But before his fingers even brush the soft material, Vyncent just lifts it high up — successfully putting it out of Dakota’s reach, thanks to his towering height.

“HEY!!”

Ashe claps their hands together, bringing the attention back to them. 

“Dakota, focus!” They say, folding their hands on their lap. “What are we going to do?”

The three friends stare at them for a few seconds in complete silence.

“…pillow fight?” Dakota slowly offers with a grin.

Ashe rolls their eyes at the proposition.

“You just want to continue attacking William.” They say with a truly unimpressed stare.

The redhead just pouts, although the puppy eyes don’t seem to work this time.

Vyncent lowers the pillow, bringing it close to his chest. The idea of a pillow fight feels… familiar. Like it’s something he has seen before, although he doesn’t remember ever partaking in one… Which could only mean…

“Isn't that something that you actually do during sleepovers?” He finally asks, clutching the cushion close. He glances at William, who’s still lying spread out on the couch. “Like in that one movie we watched?”

“Oh yeah…” William admits with a thoughtful look.  “I guess it is a cliché…”

“Sooo,” Dakota glances at the elf with a shy smile. “Can I get my pillow back?” He asks innocently.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sure.” Vyncent passes the cushion to him without a second thought.

Dakota’s grin turns more sinister the moment the pillow lands in his hands. William stares at the two with horror.

“Vyncent, you doomed m—” A pillow hits him straight in the middle of the face before he can even finish the sentence.

After a few minutes of struggle, Ashe and Vyncent finally manage to tear the pillow away from Dakota’s tight grasp. It causes him to pout like a small child whose candy got taken away, and not a teenager who was just stopped from further assaulting his best friend with a pillow. Said best friend now hides behind Vyncent, who instinctively puts a protective arm in front of him.

It’s a simple gesture. A habit that he developed during the many months he spent fighting — a need to make sure his friends are okay, that he’ll protect them with his own body if he has to. He’s done it countless times, on many different occasions. 

And yet as he glances back at William’s face behind him, the memories that hit him feel like a stab in the heart.

The terrified dark eyes. A cold hand slipping out of his grasp. A mangled body of the man that just stood there…

He feels his entire body tense up, his chest constricting with pain in his heart, which is later followed by the flowers' rough scratches in the lungs.

He swallows hard, pushing down the need to crumble down onto his knees and cough. It’s hard, as his entire body fights against him, pain soaring through his ribs, making every muscle in his body tense up. It’s as if he’s back on the battlefield, hurt and sore, afraid that there’s a danger, ready to strike, to kill him or his friends.

But there is none. Just some flowers in his lungs that love to ruin the happy moments he has with his friends.

Speaking of his friends, they all manage to settle back down on the cushions, leaving him as the only one still standing, as he forces his body to relax before they notice that there's something wrong with him.

“Okay… pillow fight is off the table” William says, sending Dakota an annoyed glare. “We can watch a movie instead? Or play some video games, that's also fun.”

Dakota lets out a bored whine at that offer. “We keep doing that, though? Like, play games and watch movies all the time…. I want to do something new!” 

He starts gesticulating wildly with his hands. 

“I want something fun! Some bonding activities, where we talk and do stuff! Not just sit down and watch the screen…”

“Alright, but I have no clue about stuff like that,” William replies with a sigh. “We might have to google that shit.”

“Yeah, I think it's time to ask the almighty internet…” Ashe glances back at Vyncent. “Can you grab my phone and look it up?”

“Uhhh…” 

The elf carefully takes the small device off the coffee table. He stares at his own reflection in the dark screen, feeling a dark aura come out of the small device that creates a pilling sense of cold dread in the bottom of his stomach.

He quickly shoves the phone into Ashe’s hands.

“You do it!” 

“Huh? Okay?” His friend takes it, frowning at Vyncent’s upset expression. “Didn’t know you hated phones this much…”

“No, no! Not phones!” Vyncent feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, his hand instinctively going to rub at his neck. He avoids his friend’s gaze as he blurts out. “It’s just… Ithinkgooglehatesme—”

Ashe stares at him, visibly confused.

“What?” They tilt their head, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I think that ‘google’ entity hates me..” The elf admits, letting his hand slide down to play with the pendant dangling on his neck. “I think it senses weakness. And I’m a weakling.”

Dakota scoffs from his spot on the floor. 

“You’re not weak!”

“Technology-wise he is,” William retorts, before leaning back with a smirk. “You know all those old people who don’t even know how to open an internet browser despite it being a thing for a hundred years? Vyncent is somehow even worse than that.”

“Is it really that bad?” Ashe asks, a hint of laughter bleeding through their words.

William just snorts.

“Just imagine being called at 9 pm on a Wednesday because ‘my computer is filled with naked men and I don't know how to get rid of them’.”

Vyncent feels his entire face set itself ablaze, as his two friends burst out laughing at his misery.

“I was looking for chicken pictures!” He tries to argue back, his ears burning with embarrassment. “I don’t know why it showed me naked men! I wasn’t looking for them, I was looking for a chicken!”

“Oh, he was looking for a cock that’s for sure…” Dakota says with a teasing smirk, making Ashe laugh even harder.

“ANYWAY!” Vyncent hopes that ignoring them will make the blush fade away from his face. “I just avoid using the internet if it’s not needed!”

“Because you’re cursed with hot men on your computer?

“Exactl- HEY!” He looks at a now giggling William with a pout.

The other two join in laughter, and Vyncent just wishes that they’ll all get cursed with the same computer misfortunes as him.

Actually, wouldn’t William like that… 

“Okay, let’s see…” Ashe opens their phone and types a few words into it. “Hmmmm… “Top to-do list for fun sleepovers!” on koolkids.com. Both spelled with a K.”

Dakota nods with grave seriousness. “Sounds credible — what does it say?”

Ashe clears their throat, shifting into a more comfortable position on the cushions and begins reading the article.

“A good sleepover is a staple of every good friendship. Without it, are you even friends? But having a successful, fun and full of activities time is harder than it seems. That’s why for those more lost in those pesky social interactions, we've prepared a list of propositions to try out with your friends—”

“I love that we're just a few sentences in, and the article already called us socially inept.” William buts in.

Ashe gives him a dull stare.

“Are they wrong?”

“...true.”

“Anyway–” They continue reading. “First things first: Manicure and make-up! It might seem to be a more feminine choice, but doing each other's nails or painting on faces is a great bonding experience. Fun designs, working together to make the other friend look good, not to mention the need for close proximity and trust — these two activities are perfect for a sleepover, no matter the gender. And if art isn’t your forte, here's a list of easy tutorials— and there's some links here…”

“Ooooooh, there’s a face paint tutorial!” Dakota yells, throwing himself over their friend's shoulder to read from the phone. “I want to be a tiger! Or a monkey! Or both!”

“I don’t think we have stuff for that, dude,” Ashe says, patting the Dakota on the head without taking their eyes off the article. “I think I have my old crusty eyeliner somewhere in my bag… but unless you guys have other make-up or nail polish, then we can’t do it.”

Dakota and Vyncent immediately turn their heads to William, staring expectantly at him. For a moment, their friend seems to ignore their silent begging, but in a matter of seconds, he folds, letting out a loud, tired groan.

“I'll go get my stuff…” He huffs out, getting up so quickly that his knees let out a loud pop. 

“You can bring your hair stuff too, Vynce!” Dakota suggests, turning to the elf. “Then we can braid our hair too!”

“Oh, true…” Vyncent nods. He does indeed have a lot of stuff for braiding, and he's got a good length of hair to play around with. Ashe's hair is also long enough to put some proper braids in, but even William’s and Dakota’s messy curls can probably be tamed into something fun.

“That’s actually perfect too, because hair braiding is next on the list,” Ashe chimes in, continuing to scroll through the page. “They also mention dyeing it, but there’s no way we're doing that. Not only because I doubt y'all have hair dye, but also I'm not letting any of you near hair bleach.”

William snorts loudly at that.

“Good idea— we wouldn’t want to repeat the bald Vyncent incident…”

The memory of waking up with his head shaved clean sends shivers down the elf’s spine, like a bucket of cold water. He instinctively grabs his long, beloved hair, protectively putting his hands around it as if there was some feral evil barber loose in the base, just waiting to attack.

“Please, no—”

“Do I even want to know…” Ashe asks, although from their tone, Vyncent can deduce that it’s more of a rhetorical question than anything.

That probably flies over Dakota’s head, as the redhead pipes up with an explanation and a wide grin. 

“We got high and William apparently shaved Vyncent’s head!” 

Ashe blinks a few times, clearly trying to comprehend the information that just got thrown at them.

“That… explains nothing.”

“Vyncent also got engaged, and William became besties with a biker gang!”

“Honestly, what the fuck is your guys' life—”

“You also slept with a bear, Dakota!” Vyncent points out, feeling that it’s unfair that only High Vyncent and High William get exposed and ridiculed like that. “You even broke into the Zoo to do that!”

Dakota’s previously joyous expression immediately falls, twisting into a grim blank gaze filled with nothing but despair.

“We don’t talk about the bear…” He whispers, his hollow eyes staring at the floor.

“I’m just saying, you’re not innocent…” 

Ashe glances between them, their own eyes filling with more and more horror with every passing second. They open their mouth a few times, failing to formulate words before finally mumbling out in fear.

“Did… Did Dakota fu—”

“ALRIGHT, I’m gonna get my stuff now!” William exclaims loudly, interrupting whatever Ashe was trying to say, before bolting out of the room at an impressive pace. Vyncent follows after him, leaving the much confused and terrified Ashe with the dead-looking Dakota.

It takes him a few moments to gather his stuff. Vyncent grabs everything he thinks could be useful — some brushes, scrunchies and a few different hair clips that were given to him some time ago that he had never used. The reason for that may or may not have been the fact that the one time he actually tried to use them, he managed to get it stuck, and he had to rip it out. Since that time he’s been too afraid to try again. 

He piles all of this in his arms and makes his way back to the living room, where he dumps it all on the couch next to the now less horrified-looking Ashe. Next to them still sits Dakota, who continues to look like a shell of a person.

“Brought the goods.” He states to his friend with a smile.

Ashe immediately digs into the pile. “Damn, you have more of it than me…” They mumble, shuffling through his hair accessories.

Vyncent shrugs, plopping down onto the couch. “I guess… Tide and Will keep buying me stuff, so you know…”

They nod with approval, pulling out different hair clips and testing them a few times. They then turn to face Vyncent again and ask with a teasing smile. “Are they looking for a second person to spoil with hair stuff gifts? Or is it just Vyncent privilege?”

“I mean,” The elf says, his hand playing with his pendant. “You can take some if you want? It’s not like I know how to use them anyway…”

Ashe blinks a couple of times in surprise.

“Dude, this is some quality shit,” They snap the clip they are holding a few more times as if it proved anything to Vyncent. “I’m not going to just take it…”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to be a second-hand sugar baby…”

“Oh.”

“Besides, I can teach you how to use it.”

Vyncent feels his ears perk up at that. “Really?”

Ashe laughs softly at his excitement. “Sure! I can do it even now — Hey, Dakota? You done being traumatized?” They call to their still frozen friend.

Immediately, the redhead perks up with a big grin, as if he wasn’t in a state of utter despair not even a second before.

“Yep!” He replies cheerfully. “The horrifying thoughts of bears had been discarded! My fear is gone! As well as bears. Bears are no more. ”

“That doesn’t sound concerning at all… anyway,” Ashe pats the couch cushion in between their legs. “Sit on the floor, I need your hair to show something to Vyncent.”

Dakota quickly plops himself down on the floor in between Ashe’s legs, with a curious smile. Ashe brushes over his red curls with their hand, separating a strand.

“It's simple, really,” They hold up the clip, clicking it a few times. “You just take a clip, open it and put it in.” They quickly do just that, catching the previously chosen strand with the clip, pulling it slightly back and securing it on Dakota’s head with ease.

“Boom. We have a hair clip on.”

Vyncent stares at them in awe.

“You… you just put it in? You don't have to twist it?” He asks, bewildered by what he just saw.

Ashe raises one of their eyebrows in confusion. “I mean, we can? I guess?”

They take another hairclip and gather again a new strand of Dakota's hair. They then twist said strand before clipping a newly created spiral of hair to the hair, just like they’ve done with the previous strand. 

“Is that what you wanted?”

“...no?” Vyncent replies slowly, thinking hard about how to explain his problem. “I mean, this looks nice, of course. But… I thought… aren’t you supposed to twist the clip? Like to make it more secure?”

Both Ashe and Dakota give him confused glances.

“Nah, dude! It’s already clipped in well, look!” Dakota says, before shaking his head wildly. The clips somehow manage to stay on, not even moving an inch. “They are stuck on pretty well! I could probably fight a villain and they wouldn’t fall off!”

“...Were you twisting them after already clipping them on?” Ashe asks slowly, concern visible on their face.

Vyncent just lowers his head, burying it in his hands.

“...I thought I had to… I had to cut so much of my hair…” He whines into his palms.

He can hear Ashe let out a quiet sympathetic hiss at his confession, as he also feels a comforting pat on his head with an accompanying “there, there” from Dakota.

“Yeah, that… that would happen… uhm,” Ashe says, shifting on the couch awkwardly. “Why did you even twist them?”

Vyncent drops his hands from his face with a sigh. His ears feel hot, and he’s sure that his face is red as well from the embarrassment. “I don’t know… that’s just how all of my mom’s hair sticks and spirals worked so I just assumed it had to work the same?”

“Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent, from a different dimension child…”

“Yeah…” Ashe gives him a small, reassuring smile. “I mean, we can buy you some hair sticks if you want?”

The elf just lets out a pitiful whine from behind his hands.

At that moment, William returns, holding an entire tote bag of what's assumed to be makeup.

“Alright, guys, I’ve found some shit that we can use…” He exclaims, pulling the bag off his shoulder.

He then pours out the contents, allowing all the bottles and boxes to fall on the carpeted floor. He stares for a second at the mess he had created in front of himself, before glancing at the rest of the group. He opens his mouth to say something, but then his dark eyes land on Vyncent, widening in surprise.

“Why is Vyncent sad now?”

Ashe lets out a quiet chuckle.

“He just learned that he's been using hairclips wrong all this time.” They explain quickly.

“I just— I… Things are hard! And I don’t have brains for that!”

William's eyebrows furrow slightly in puzzlement. “You know you could have just… ya know, asked me?”

Vyncent didn’t know that his ears could get redder, but he is proved wrong, as he feels them burn as if someone set them on fire.

“William, I am already not handling this well. Stop making it worse…”

They start looking through the things William has brought, which makes Vyncent realize that not only does he not know how to use hair clips, but he also has no clue how to use anything that’s in front of him. He assumes that the colorful bottles with the words “nail polish” on them are meant for the nails, and the “eyeliner” is for the eyes. But that's all his amazing detective sense manages to figure out.

“Concealer?… What kind of evil secret is this thing concealing…” He whispers, turning around a random tube in his hands.

Beside him, William snorts, amused by his muttering. 

“It’s not evil, my guy…” His friend takes the concealer out of his hands with a teasing smile. “Besides, it’s not even your color…”

He pops the tube open, revealing a long stick with a weird brush-like tip that’s covered in some cream-looking paste. William then takes one of the elf’s hands and swipes the brush on it, leaving a bright streak that contrasts greatly with his dark skin.

“It’s paint?” Vyncent asks, gently touching the whitish line and immediately smearing it all over his hands.

“I guess you could call it that,” his friend closes the concealer, putting it away. “It’s meant to cover like the imperfections on your face. You know… to conceal them.”

The elf lets out an understanding “ooooooh," but then realizes something which makes him frown.

“Then why do you have it?” He asks, looking at his friend, confused. “You don’t have any imperfections on your face?”

William sputters loudly at that, his face flushing bright blue. He quickly looks away, his hands nervously playing with the many rings on his fingers. 

“Well— uh. Thank you?” He replies, his voice cracking so badly that it makes Vyncent’s sensitive ears twitch. “I don’t agree, but sure. Like, look at my eyebags — that’s like the most classic spot to use concealer on, right? And mine are huge, so I can use it to cover them and look less dead!”

Vyncent frown deepens.

“But… you are dead…”

The blush on William’s face slowly slides down his neck as the teen scoffs. 

“Well, that doesn’t mean I have to look like a corpse who died from sleep deprivation, does it?”

The elf shrugs, not really understanding why William — the literal grim reaper — would be so bothered by looking like one of the ghosts he has to manage. It’s not even like a new feature — his friend has been sporting some heavy under-eye shadows since forever, or at least since Vyncent met him. Maybe it’s some sort of insecurity of his? 

But he looks nice like this… he shouldn’t be insecure about something like that…

“I don’t know man. I think you look better without covering your eye bags.”

William gives him a weird look.

“You’re literally the only person who thinks that.”

“Nah, I agree with Vynce,” Dakota suddenly pipes up. “You would look so weird without your dark circles!”

“Exactly! They are like a William Wisp staple at this point!” Vyncent adds cheerfully. “Without them you wouldn’t look like yourself!”

Ashe snorts at that.

“A Will without dark eyebags is just his evil clone: Bill.” They say with a giggle.

“Billiam Bisp…” Vyncent whispers, feeling himself shudder at the mere idea of a well-rested evil William. A truly horrifying image and he isn’t sure what's worse — the idea of William being evil, or somehow getting the recommended eight hours of sleep every night.

“It’s like Dave all over again…” Dakota whispers with a solemn nod.

“It’s not at all like Dave!” William snaps back, looking very offended by their comments. “Unlike yours, my shadow clone decided to just live a calm life with a weird snake lady!”

“My clones had no character development.” Vyncent scratches his beard. “They were sexy though, so I guess I can’t complain.”

“I get possessed by a demon Joker wannabe for a year, and suddenly sexy evil clones are apparently a thing,” Ashe mumbles under their breath. “What’s next? A spaghetti monster living in the sewers?”

“Actually, it’s ravioli.” Vyncent replies.

Ashe’s face turns blank as they stare off into the distance, their entire being emanating a simple question of “why?”.

Vyncent decides to let them be, returning his attention back to the cosmetics in front of them. He opens one of the flat boxes, discovering some sort of a palette filled with different pigments that stain his fingers upon touch. Most of the colorful rectangles seem to be untouched, with the exception of a few darker shades. The black one looked to be almost empty, used so much that the metallic bottom started to shine through.

He feels a warm body of Dakota lean on him, as his friend peers over at his new find.

“Ooooh, eyeshadow…” He says with excitement, scanning through the colors before chuckling. “Of course, black is almost gone.” Dakota turns to William with a teasing grin. “You're so fucking emo, it hurts!”

William quickly snatches the box out of Vyncent’s hands with a frown. 

“That’s it,” He snaps it closed. “You're losing the eyeliner privilege.”

“Nooooooo—” Dakota whines, moving away from Vyncent, only to now lie down on top of William, staring at him with the eyes of a kicked down puppy.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t work on William, as the dead teen just smacks the redhead’s forehead with the box before putting it away with a huff. He then picks up a couple of small bottles, the glass clinking loudly.

“So… anyone wants to get their nails painted?”

—

Turns out that painting nails is very simple in concept. But unbelievably hard in execution.

“Sit still!” William hisses through his teeth as he tries desperately to hold onto Dakota’s finger, which now has red nail polish not just on the nail but all over the cuticles as well.

“You suck at this!” Dakota whines back, continuing to try and rip away from his friend’s tight grip. “You just painted my whole finger!”

“Well, this wouldn’t happen if you just sat still for a moment—”

“Skill issue,” Ashe comments with a smug grin.

They take a bottle of white polish and try to apply it. Only to immediately smudge the paint all over their own fingers, 

“Ah, shit—”

“HA!”

William finally gives up and lets go of the redhead's hand, who lets out a loud cheer, throwing his fists up in the air. He doesn’t seem to notice that by doing that, not only did he smear the polish off his nails, but also the fact that said polish is now all over his palms, dyeing them a nice bright red.

William just gives him a look of utter disbelief and irritation, before turning to Vyncent.

“Do you want to get your nails painted?” He asks, shaking the red bottle in his hand. “Of course, only if you sit still, unlike someone…” He adds under his breath, glancing at their other friend with a glare.

In response, Dakota blows a raspberry in their direction, continuing to smear the red paint all over his skin. 

Vyncent glances at the small bottles scattered around.

Red… black… white… another black… blue… yet another black—

“You don’t have any purple?” He finally asks.

William’s eyebrows raise up slightly in surprise, as he scans his collection, visibly coming to the same conclusions as the elf.

“I don’t think so…” He looks back at Vyncent with an apologetic gaze. “Did you want purple nails?”

The older teen waves his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine, I just wanted to do our matching colors — Dakota wanted red, you could do blue, and Ashe is doing white.” He explains, playing with the pendant on his chest. “But since you don’t have any purple, we can just go with black.”

“Awwww,” Dakota coos at that with a warm smile. “That would have been so cool!”

Vyncent nods, glad that his friend appreciates his genius, before turning back to William.

“So? You’ll paint me some black nails?”

William doesn’t respond at first, instead staring intently at the red bottle that’s still in his hands. He then looks around, searching for something before finding it. He grabs the blue nail polish, shaking it slightly, before moving back swiftly in front of Vyncent.

“Actually, I have an idea,” he opens the red bottle, gesturing to the elf to give him his hand. “It might not work, though…”

Vyncent gives his hand right away, the cold touch of his best friend’s skin sending familiar shivers down his spine. 

“Alright,” he sends William a small smile. “I trust you.”

The color on the other boy’s cheeks matches almost perfectly the shade of blue that is in the small bottle lying beside them.

Despite that, William begins to carefully swipe the small brush over the elf's nails, painting them in vibrant red. Vyncent makes sure not to move as his friend works, but to his surprise, William turns out to be doing a much better job than expected, painting everything with utter focus and precision. Apparently, he’s actually talented — as long as the nails he’s painting aren’t jumping around.

William quickly finishes both of the elf’s hands, admiring the work with an approving grin, as he puts the brush back into the bottle.

“Okay, “ he puts the nail polish away. “Now we wait until it dries up. Try not to move around, we don’t want to smear it.”

Now it’s Vyncent’s turn to admire his friend’s creation. While the polish looks nice — William made sure to never go over the nail, and it looks very pretty and shiny — red is simply not his color. He doesn’t remember the last time he wore anything red, not counting the blood of his enemies, of course.

Or my friends…

He looks back at William, who picked up the blue bottle and is now playing with it in his fingers. 

“You want me to become Dakota…” He says, while pointing at the red nails, still making sure he won’t smudge them.

His friend snorts loudly at that.

“That’s just the first step.” He replies with a giggle.

Vyncent’s eyebrows furrow as a sliver of dread seeps into his heart upon hearing that ominous sentence.

“Wha—What’s the next step?”

Something grabs at him from behind, making him yelp.

“We dye your hair red, duh!” Dakota yells, his arm thrown around Vyncent’s shoulders in a loose hug. “Isn’t that right, Will?”

Their friend nods with a serious expression.

“Yes, we will also traumatize you to have an irrational fear of bears.” He adds, trying to keep a straight face but quickly cracking as the two boys start to laugh at Vyncent’s distressed face.

“We’re kidding Vynce.” William finally says through the giggles. “I won’t turn you into ‘Kota.”

“Yeah!” The redhead squeezes his shoulders with a big grin. “There’s only one Dakota Cole — and that’s me!”

“Okay, good.” Vyncent lets out a soft sigh of relief. “Cause I don’t think I would look good with red hair.”

“You’d look fine,” Ashe pipes from their work on their own nails. “If you want a real cursed image, imagine William as a redhead.”

“Oh, that is cursed.”

William takes one of Vyncent’s hands, gently raising it up to his face.

“I just wanted to have a red base for the next step.” He explains, inspecting the nails with great focus.

He blows softly at them, his cold breath tickling against Vyncent’s warm skin.

“I think it dried enough…” He mumbles with a satisfied smile. 

He picks up the blue bottle and opens it, without letting go of the other teen’s hand. With a couple of quick moves, he wipes the excess of the polish against the rim, before bringing the brush to Vyncent’s red colored nails.

“Let’s hope my preschool art classes were good for something…”

He then carefully glides the blues over the crimson, turning it into a deep violet.

“Oh, that’s smart.” Ashe comments, glancing over.

William grins proudly as he continues painting.

“Basic color mixing, but I wasn’t sure if the polish would work with it.” He switches to the other hand, swiftly finishing the entire set. He looks up at Vyncent with a shy but expectant gaze.

“So? Do you like it?’

Vyncent stares at his hands, admiring the deep purple that now colors them. One of the polishes had to have some sort of glitter in it as his nails shimmer slightly in the light, reminding him of the glistening potions his mother would brew for his father and the Greats. 

He turns to face William, his entire body beaming with happiness and awe of his friend.

“I love them!” He exclaims with the biggest grin his face could twist into. “You’re a genius, Will!”

He sees his friend turn neon blue at his words. A bright flush spreads from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck, as William looks away with a coy smile. Vyncent can’t help but notice how cute and fitting it looks on his face.  Once again, he gets reminded of the wisps his friend controls, how the flush on his cheeks looks exactly how he thinks it would look if the wisps decided to dance on William’s skin.

His friend opens his mouth, supposedly to reply to Vyncent’s compliment, but before any words leave his mouth, Dakota butts in, loudly speaking up from the pile of cosmetics on the floor. 

“Will? Which brush is for what?” He picks up the surprisingly large bundle of brushes, showing them to the rest. “Specifically, which one can I use for eyeshadow? Or can I just use my fingers, cause I want to do warrior’s face paint, so maybe the hands would work better—”

The ghostly teen sighs.

“I’ll paint you, how about that?” He finally says, putting away the nail polish. “But only if you stay still and stop complaining!”

Dakota giggles at that, but agrees — claiming that even a messy look will look good. To that, William lets another tired sigh, making Vyncent chuckle again.

Their eyes meet again, as William looks up at him. At first, it’s the simple, classic exchange of fond gazes, but then something switches in the dark pupils, as the stare turns more expectant, more urgent. This confuses the elf, as he wordlessly asks the question of “what?” with a simple frown. That makes William roll his eyes at his apparent lack of awareness, before the teen discreetly nudges his head in the direction of their other friend — Ashe.

This gesture doesn’t explain anything to Vyncent, which he shows by blatantly deepening his frown. This clearly infuriates William who continues to nudge his head forward Ashe, with a wide expectant gaze, before hissing out under his breath.

“The test—”

Finally, it clicks in Vyncent’s brain.

Oh, right… I was supposed to see if I’m in love with Ashe—

“Willlll—” They can hear Dakota whine impatiently from behind them.

“I’m coming, you—” William yells back, giving Vyncent one last expectant eyebrow raise, before he scurries off to the redhead on the other side of the room. “Do not touch my eyeliner—!”

Vyncent glances around, looking for anything to help him approach Ashe without raising any suspicion. Then his gaze lands on one of his many brushes, and he gets struck with an idea. He quickly picks it up and shuffles quietly to Ashe, who notices his appearance straight away and gently smiles at him.

“So.. uhm..” He mumbles, gripping the handle, feeling a sense of queasy nervousness suddenly rise in his stomach. 

Ashe’s eyebrows knit together as they tilt their head to the side, staring at the stuttering elf with confusion. Their gaze falls to the brush in his hands.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?” They ask, to which Vyncent nods quickly. They tap the cushion under them, gesturing to the elf to sit down on the floor in front of them. He quickly kneels down, passing the brush to his friend, before turning back and properly sitting down, allowing Ashe the best access to his hair.

“Any requests?” He hears from the teen behind him. “I think I remember how to do French braids — I used to put them on some dolls I had as a kid.”

Vyncent has no idea what a “French braid” is — the only french thing he knows is Le Frog and that man doesn’t braid his hair, not even his moustache.

“I’ll let you decide — go wild.” He responds with a shrug, but then adds after a second thought. “Just don’t shave my head.”

A soft laugh escapes Ashe as his friend begins to gently brush at the elf's long hair. 

“Damn, there goes the Mohawk idea…”

They sit in silence, as Ashe works on his hair. Vyncent doesn’t mind it, relaxing under the soothing touch of his friend. But then he manages to lock eyes with annoyed-looking William. At first, he’s confused — why would William be mad? He’s doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, right? 

He doesn’t get an answer, or at least not directly from William, as his friend’s attention gets taken away by Dakota. It seems that the redhead asked some sort of a question as William immediately replies and even pulls out different cosmetics to show to his friend.

Wait. I should probably talk to Ashe, don’t I?

He glances up at his friend. Ashe seems to be focused on their work, but the moment their eyes meet, their eyebrows raise questioningly.

Oh no. I’ve been spotted. Quick, think of a conversation starter!

Vyncent scrambles through his thoughts, trying to think of anything before his eyes land on the rainbow-abducted man on Ashe’s shirt.

“I like your shirt?”

“Hm? Oh, thanks. I stole it from my dad.” They shrug, continuing to gently separate Vyncent's hair into parts. “I liked the design, and it's not like he wears it.”

“Oh…” Vyncent scrambles through his brain, desperately trying to think of something normal to continue the conversation without making it feel too weird or awkward. He finally blurts out.

“I don't like my dad. Or yours. I like dragons, though.”

Fuck.

Ashe stops for a second, making Vyncent regret every decision he has ever made, including his own birth. But then a soft laughter escapes from them, as their hands start to shake, continuing their work.

“You and me both, Vynce.” They say between giggles. “We are the daddy issues club, huh?”

“I do have issues with my father…” Vyncent agrees slowly.

His friend hums from behind him.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me about that…” Their tone is soft, just like the fingers that brush against his scalp.

Vyncent shrugs at that. “He is… not the best guy…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“No, no! It’s not that! It’s just… kind of hard to explain?” He glances down at the floor, fiddling with the pendant on his chest. “Like I’m only now realizing a lot of stuff…”

Ashe stops parting his hair, clipping some of it and then taking the rest and starting to braid the strands.

“I get that,” They say. “Like you finally think about past stuff and it hits you that that wasn’t okay.”

“Yeah…”

Vyncent stares at the figurine in his hands. It’s a simple design of a wolf, its mouth twisted in a growl that shows off all of its teeth. A large gem embedded between the fangs shines, the deep violet color matching the one glazing his nails. To a normal person, the canine looks dangerous, baring all its teeth in fury. But to the elf, there’s more to that — animals usually don’t attack without a reason. To him there isn’t much anger in the figure's eyes, rather fear that’s covered with a mask of danger. This isn’t a beast who’s ready to attack — it’s a scared animal that is trying to protect something, lashing out, pretending to be bigger and stronger than they actually are. 

His hand squeezes the cold metal and stone.

“He… he was the reason I got transported here…” The words taste bitter on his tongue. “He betrayed all the Greats and I…”

He still remembers the cold floor of the dungeon, where he kneeled to watch his world fall apart in moments.

“I followed the team secretly, because I wanted to be like them… to be like him, like he trained me my entire life for.” He whispers, throat tightening with the memory of the fear that ran through him that fateful night. “They were losing and… he saw me. He saw me, and he betrayed all of them to save me.”

The hands in his hair stop.

“I don't understand…” Ashe whispers slowly.

Vyncent takes a deep breath. No wonder his friend is confused; he himself barely can wrap his head around what truly happened, let alone explain it. That’s why he never went into the details about it, although that was more motivated by how much he hated even thinking about it, not to mention retelling it even to his own friends. Hell, William and Dakota only knew about it because they’ve seen how it all ended back on Fauna.

He looks down at his own knees as he starts to explain to Ashe.

“My dad and his team went to fight the Lich. And I stupidly went after them. It was a bad battle… they weren’t winning, and I just watched scared and then… he… saw me. Hiding in the ruins. And he stopped fighting.” His hands tighten into fists. “He was the only one still fully standing, and he just… gave up.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back the sudden tears that well up in them.

“He started talking to the monster, proposing different deals. He offered his best friends’ lives, he fucking offered my entire world, my home, just so the lich wouldn’t touch me or him.”

He can hear Ashe take a sharp breath.

“Woah… that’s… big.”

The elf glares at the floor, shaking his head slightly in shreds of disbelief that his father truly did all that. “He gave up the safety and lives of everybody on Fauna, just to be a coward.” He manages to whisper.

“Hm…”

“He did all of that and just for me to be thrown on goddamn Prime, a completely unknown world, with his entire team stuck in my brain.” A choked laughter escapes him, a nervous habit, a coping mechanism that Vyncent couldn’t seem to get rid of. 

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” He mumbles out. “Damn.”

“That is… very fucked up.” Ashe sums up eloquently, almost making the elf laugh, before they slowly speak again. “Okay… don’t take it the wrong way, but I think your dad did this because he loved you…”

Vyncent clenches his jaw, feeling the immediate frustration boil in him. 

“I know.” He hisses out, before taking a deep, calming breath. He doesn't want to blow up on Ashe, they don't deserve the anger just for trying to understand Vyncent's issues.

“Everybody kept telling me that when we fought the Lich, how he did it all for me, but that’s not true! If he did it for me, he would have continued fighting and not betrayed the Greats, my family!”

A couple of tears stream down his face, and he quickly wipes them away, not wanting to sour the mood even more with his crying.

“I don’t want his love if it means everybody else has to suffer… ” His voice cracks slightly as he whispers.

His friend lets out an understanding hum at his explanation. 

“That’s more than fair. He chose the easier way out.” They say, returning to their work on his hair.

Vyncent lets out a scoff, although not directed at Ashe specifically — the source of his anger is his father. 

“My entire childhood, he taught me about honor. About how you should only trust family and always be on their side. How to fight and fight until you win.” He feels the old flames of raging hate rise up in him again. “He pushed me away from using magic so I would be a fighter and only fighter — just like him.”

“And then he did all of that, huh…” Ashe finishes for him.

“Yeah…”

“Your dad is a fucking asshole.”

Vyncent can't help but let out a watery laugh at that.

“Like, no offence — but he is so stupid. He’s acting like Mark did, and my Dad admitted that he did stupid shit, so there’s no excuse here.” They say with audible annoyance. “I get wanting to keep us safe, that's understandable. But you don’t have to basically put me in a cage and never let me out to do that!”

“Or sacrifice your entire team, the same one that’s basically your family, as well as your entire world.”

“Exactly.”

Silence falls between the two of them, as Ashe continues to slowly braid his hair. 

“Do you…” Vyncent says hesitantly. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive Mark?”

Ashe thinks for a moment.

“Forgive?” A low chuckle escapes them, although Vyncent can tell it lacks any humor. “No, I don’t think I’ll forgive him for basically keeping me in his basement my entire life.” 

The hands on Vyncent’s head stop as his friend falls silent. 

“But… I don’t want to lose him.” Ashe hesitantly continues, their voice small and quiet. “Like, he’s not the best but… he’s my Dad, you know? He’s trying to be better, and he actually is. The bar is on the floor, sure, but he’s finally being the dad I always needed.”

“Bit late, huh…”

“Yeah, and it did take me getting fully Joker-possessed to get him to take his head out his ass. But, you know. Progress. Weeee.”

Vyncent laughs at that, shaking slightly, which makes Ashe hiss at him to stop moving so much and how he is going to mess up all their work.

He lets his friend continue work for some time, bathing in the comforting silence that forms between them. It’s nice to finally have someone who went through something similar, who understands what he’s feeling and why, because they’ve felt the same. 

As much as he adores William and Dakota and appreciates their support — it’s not the same as talking to someone who has the problem he has. William’s parents seem to be kind people, and Dakota, sadly,lost his parents when he was young. While they both still have some sort of family-related issues, and in some way, seemingly even worse than Vyncent’s own — they simply aren’t similar enough for Vyncent to feel understood. It’s no one’s fault, but sometimes it makes him feel lonely with his problems.

That’s why when Ashe immediately got what he was going through, when they said exactly what was going on in his head, with no judgment — it was freeing in some weird sense. To talk about his feelings without having someone tell him how to solve them — to not be a bigger person just because everybody expects you to be.

But there’s one thing that still haunts his heart…

“I don’t think I want to see my father again…” The elf whispers, staring at the floor. “Not to mention forgiving him…”

A hand appears on his shoulder, as Ashe squeezes it gently. 

“And that’s okay…” They say in a hushed but reassuring tone. “You don’t owe him anything. He fucked up majorly, and many had to pay the price — that sounds like a good enough reason to say fuck him and never talk to him again.”

Another sigh escapes from Vyncent as he feels something in his chest tighten. And this time it's not the flowers.

“It’s just… even if he did it out of love, did the Greats not deserve safety as well? Or my mom? Or my village? Or anyone really...” He asks, allowing the bitterness to finally spill from his heart. “If he really loved me, why didn’t he care about the people that I loved…”

He remembers seeing his mother, how her eyes were filled with grief for her beloved husband. Someone she loved so dearly, who in the blink of an eye sentenced her to months of suffering, as she would struggle to survive in what was basically an apocalypse. She lived in the belief that her husband simply failed — died while fighting to save them all. But the truth is that she was betrayed for the sake of her stupid son and cowardly husband. 

Deep down, Vyncent feels guilt — maybe if he hadn't been there, maybe his father would have tried harder, maybe he would’ve won. Maybe so many wouldn’t have died if one teenager wasn’t idolizing the family that he was raised by to know better than to walk into danger to follow them. 

Maybe if he didn’t exist — his homeland would have never suffered.

“I don’t know dude.” The hand slides off his shoulder, returning to work on the braid. “And I’m gonna be honest — I don’t think there’s an answer to that.”

Is there ever?

“That’s why I don’t think you should focus on that.”

Vyncent blinks a couple of times before Ashe’s words finally register fully.

“What?” 

“Okay, that sounded bad.” The other teen lets out an awkward chuckle. “What I mean is that there’s a very big chance that you’ll never learn what your stupid dad thought. Or maybe you will, but it will be just… disappointing. You’ll spend all this time wondering what was that made him do it or what could have happened if stuff went differently, but does that change anything in the end?”

The delicate fingers brush against his back as Ashe gathers the last strands of his hair and ties them up with a hair tie.

“I won’t lie — I… I also wonder about stuff… my childhood… my mom… why Mark did what he did.” Ashe’s voice is quiet, almost a hushed whisper. “But at the same time… I have class to pass, man… I don’t have the time to blame myself like that. I’ve got essays to write instead of this shit.”

That sudden admission causes Vyncent to let out a startled laugh, which is immediately joined by his friend's shy giggle.

“No, but I’m serious!” Ashe continues, a jovial tone still in their words. “I used to wonder every day about what went wrong or if I did something differently, my life would be different. And it sucked, like I did everything to not think about that, only to then think about that. But now? Now I see that it’s in the past. It still hurts, but it’s the past. And I try not to focus on what if… but what’s next.”

Ashe lets go of the elf’s hair, shifting on the couch to sit less behind Vyncent and more next to him.

“I finally have a tomorrow I look forward to. A future that makes me remember that… that I’ve got more to think about than the bad stuff.” A small smile dances on their lips. “It is not a perfect solution, but it helps. It really helps to remember that I’ve got more in my life than the misery that’s always been there…”

Vyncent stares at them for a moment. 

He remembers the shy and skeptical teen he and the other Prime Defenders had met that fateful day in Mark’s suspiciously normal house. Someone who didn’t believe there was more to them, who was surprised that there were people who saw something in them. That there were people who wanted to be their friend.

That teen… well, they are still clearly there – despite everything, Ashe didn’t suddenly transform into someone new. But that broken gloom that haunted their eyes is finally gone, replaced by what Vyncent can only describe as shy glee, a glimmer of happiness that's finally allowed to spark for the first time.

Beautiful…

“I have more in my life…” He whispers back Ashe's words. 

“Dude, look at it this way: you now live in an entirely different world, away from your father. Not even like a different planet – a whole different dimension.” Ashe starts explaining. “You’re training to be a hero, you’re in college for that, even. You’ve saved the world — multiple times, too! You’ve got so much more relevant stuff to think about! Like I said — fuck him. He isn’t worth losing sleep over the mistakes he has made, Mistakes that you have fixed as well. You deserve better than that.”

Huh…

Logically, Vyncent knows Ashe is right. He understands that the past cannot be changed, no matter how much one wishes it could be. The best course of action is to accept that fact and simply focus on the next step. 

And yet… he can’t. He can't stop looking back. Not when he knows how many mistakes he has made. Not when he knows how much his homeland suffered, how many of his kind died. When he knows that it was partially his fault, if not fully. His father’s betrayal, the Greats losing their powers and getting trapped in his head, his Mother's grief — it all started because he wanted to see his heroes - his family, defeat the bad guy.

He wanted to see what it’s like to be a hero himself, only to be the reason why they all fell. To be the one to doom them all.

“...do I?” He finally whispers, afraid that if he speaks any louder, he might start crying. “How can I deserve better, if I don't even deserve the good?”

He keeps his eyes glued to the floor, staring intently at the wooden panels. He doesn’t dare look up, too scared of Ashe’s reaction. Would they judge him? Think he's pathetic? Maybe pity him?

I don’t know what’s worse…

He doesn’t have to wonder for long as a pair of hands grabs at his shoulder, turning him around to face now stern-looking Ashe.

“Yes.” They state firmly, staring intently with their violet eyes. “Listen to me. You and I? We aren’t our dads. And it’s not on us to figure out their shit.”

“But I'm also—” Vyncent tries to protest, but the other teen shuts him with a glare. It’s quickly gone, as Ashe’s gaze softens, and after taking a deep breath, they continue.

“Look… I know what it’s like to wonder if what happened was your fault. To think about it day and night, blaming yourself for things that in reality were outside of our control.” They quietly move, sliding off the couch and plopping themselves right next to Vyncent on the floor.

Their hands slide off his shoulders as well, but still stay on, gently holding his wrist.

“Our parents are human, or well, elf in your case…” Vyncent can’t help but chuckle at that. “They fuck up. Sometimes severely. But that doesn’t mean we have to pay for it. We are their kids — no matter how you spin it, in the end, they were in control and they fucked it up.”

Their hands tangle together, squeezing tightly.

“We had the least to say… we were just kids, Vynce… we shouldn’t have had to watch our worlds break, not to mention try to take the blame for that…”

Vyncent feels tears prickle at his eyes as he continues to stare at his friend’s serious face. 

“But look at us.” Ashe’s intense gaze finally cracks, as they let out a watery laugh. “We survived! Despite all the shit they and the universe pulled — we fucking survived!”

They continue to chuckle, as a couple of tears escape their eyes.

“I spent all those years thinking that I’ll never escape. I thought that because my mom died, I’ll never leave my home, I’ll never have friends or anything. And now I’m in college! Living in a dorm!” A shy smile appears on their lips. “Instead of worrying that I’ll never meet anyone — now I’m worrying how to not fuck up a meetup!!”

There’s a small shake in their frame, as a few more tears escape. Vyncent moves his hands, wrapping them around the others and gripping tightly, hoping it’ll comfort his friend. 

“Our father’s mistakes… they messed us up. Badly. And it’ll take a long time to undo them.” Ashe’s voice is quiet, but despite the tears, the words sound clear as day. “But we are so much more than that, you know?”

Vyncent doesn’t reply at first, his tongue feeling as if it was made out of lead rather than flesh. His heart feels heavy as well, despite Ashe’s words lifting some of the pain that had been digging at it all this time. It’s like armor — your friend can help you take the main plate off, but there's still chainmail weighing you down. And shedding that last piece, that one shred of heavy protection that Vyncent can’t help but hold onto. The belief he kept from the moment he landed on Prime, the duty to save his home, to fix the mistakes that were made. A small motivation that kept him going for so long - it kept him sane, focused on the goal. One stable plan - he needs to do what's right, mend what he has broken. A good end.

But is it really good if in the end it hurts me? Weighing me down until I can't get up?

“I think… I think I know…” He finally whispers. “But I… I don’t know if I believe it yet…’

“...I understand that.”

Vyncent shrinks in shame. It’s a simple thing, and yet he can’t even do that 

“No, seriously,” Ashe grabs his shoulders, squeezing slightly. “I get it. And I know how hard it is to stop thinking that you’re the source of all bad. But you’re not.”.

The hands slide up from his shoulders and hover over his cheek for a moment before his friend gently cups his face. Ashe looks into his eyes with this determination that he isn’t used to seeing in them. It’s a pleasant surprise.

“You’re not your father’s mistake, Vynce.” They whisper slowly, gaze firmly focused on Vyncent. “And right now you probably don’t believe me, but it’s the truth.”

They brush away the tears that form in the elf's eyes. 

“I hope… no— I know that one day you’ll believe it. Not today. Probably not tomorrow…” They let out a small chuckle. “There will be a day you and I will be able to just hate our dads without the guilt and self-blame.”

“I mean, I can do that with Mark without any guilt, right now…” Vyncent mumbles into Ashe’s hands. 

“I can also hate your dad without any remorse.” The other responds, hands still slowly caressing Vyncent.

“We can do a deal. I guiltlessly hate Mark, you guiltlessly hate my dad — we do that until we heal and can properly hate them ourselves.” The elf suggests, leaning more into the touch. “That way, there will always be someone who hates them and manifests their demise.”

Ashe chuckles again.

“I don't think that's how demise works, Vynce.” They finally let go of the elf, which makes him a bit sad. He might be a bit touch-starved, fight him.

“Besides, if there’s someone already hating on our dads for us it’s probably those two—” Ashe continues, nudging their head towards their two friends.

“Yeah, you're right. I can't hate Mark more than Dakota already does.”

Ashe lets out a huff that seems to be a mash-up of a deep sigh and a laugh.

“Don’t even mention it — he keeps asking me for Mark’s new phone number. Says that he needs it to "schedule a round two of the convention” — and before you ask, no, I don’t know what he’s talking about and I’m not sure I want to.” They explain with exasperation.

“Why won’t you just… give him the number?” Vyncent asks, a small smile dancing on his lips at the thought of all the things Dakota is probably planning to do to annoy the older man.

“I can’t give them full access to each other! They’ll probably start a fight, and one of them for sure will land in a hospital, and knowing my luck, it’s not going to be Dakota! I did not spend like a grand on therapy,  fighting my daddy issues and other father-related trauma, only for that fucker to die in a Dakota-related accident!”

Vyncent bursts out laughing at that.

“I’m serious!” Ashe continues, their mask of fake worry slowly cracking. “Dakota has some sort of plot armor — I once saw him fall off a bridge, fall into the cold river, swim against the current to the shore, and once he managed to get out of the water, he just shook it all off as if it was nothing. He even continued our conversation as if he had just tripped and not literally fallen off a bridge.” They dramatically throw their hands up in the air in exasperation. “My dad might be half lizard, but he's also just an old man, and I’m simply preventing elder manslaughter.”

The elf is now cackling so hard, he has to lean on his friend's shoulder to stop himself from tumbling onto the floor in his maniacal laughter. Ashe quickly joins him, letting out the quieter giggles as they both lose it at the thought of Dakota managing to “accidentally” murder Mark.

They stay like that, allowing the calm and warmth to settle in their bones. But after a moment, Ashe stiffens under Vyncent — clearly reaching their touchiness level, so the elf slowly lifts himself up. He knows that his friend isn’t as comfortable with being touched like him, Dakota or even William — and that's more than okay. He’d rather get no hugs at all than just force them and make Ashe uncomfortable; he’s flexible like that.

“Do you want to see your braid?” Speaking of Ashe, the other teen moves to grab their phone off the couch. “I can  take a picture from behind and show it to you.”

Vyncent nods, and before he knows it, a brightly lit screen showing a photo is shoved into his hands.

The hairstyle Ashe managed to weave is not what Vyncent expected them to make. It starts with two braids that go over the top of his head, connecting right above his occiput. There, the connected braids are tied with one of Vyncent’s nicer hair ties - a white, silky smooth scrunchie with an attached long bow, a gift from William that Vyncent got before he left for college. The rest of the hair continues to fall down his head and neck, cascading gently with thin added braids breathing through the curls. What shocks Vyncent is how secure the whole braid feels — it’s tight enough that despite his movement it hasn't moved an inch, but it’s loose enough that he can see the small strands of hair slipping out of it, giving it a more natural feel.

Vyncent loves it.

“This looks amazing!” He exclaims to his friend, hoping that Ashe can see how awestruck he is. “You’re a miracle worker!”

Ashe blushes hard, face turning bright pink as they turn away their gaze.

“It’s just a braid…” They mumble bashfully, avoiding Vyncent’s eyes.

“Yeah, sure, but it’s a really good one!” The elf adds, glancing back at the photo. It still looks like the coolest thing Vyncent has ever done with his hair, which isn't a lot because he mostly does ponytails or a simple braid if he's feeling frisky, but still. “Not to mention that today is not my hair day. I tried to tame it in the morning and lost. Horribly.”

Ashe chuckles, still visibly flustered.  Their cheeks continue to be decorated with a pinkish hue that is really pretty and fits Ashe’s fair complexion beautifully, but deep down, Vyncent notes that it lacks… something. Or rather, it doesn’t feel as good as he expected - after all, he loves flustering William, and the reaction he gets from his other friend makes his heart squeeze in fondness. Fondness that is still there, don’t get him wrong, it’s just… different? Less intense? More special? Whatever it is, it’s simply not there as he looks at Ashe’s face.

Maybe that's better? It would be rude if he felt the exact same way about his friends — they are vastly different people after all, with different needs, problems, and ways they communicate. It would be weird to look at them the same.

Speaking of problems and communicating…

“I… Thanks… Like, really, really thank you.” He stutters out.

“Dude, I’m serious the braid isn’t that big of a deal—”

“Thanks for listening. About my father.” Vyncent explains, hands playing with the loose strands of hair that now fall down his shoulders. “ It’s good to talk with someone who gets it. I know it's not the most fun topic, so seriously, thank you, Ashe…”

A soft pink blush appears on the pale skin of his friend.

“It's fine,” They say, scratching at the back of their neck. “Like you said — it’s good to talk with someone who gets it. This also helped me, you know? So I'm glad we got to do this.”

Now it’s Vyncent’s turn to feel a bit of heat on his face. 

“That’s good…” He mumbles out.

A sudden yell breaks the bubble of vulnerability that formed between the two teens.

“Guys, do I look amazing or what?” Dakota calls, turning to the two, showing off the newly painted face. Bright reds shine on the teen’s eyelids, contrasting with the dark, almost black, eyeshadow that's messily drawn under the golden eyes. There are also black lines coming down his face — from the centre of his eyes down his cheeks, as well as two stripes that follow the sides of Dakota’s nose, giving it more of an animalistic look.

Overall, Dakota is right - he looks amazing!

“That looks… so fucking badass, what the hell?” Ashe says with palpable surprise.

Dakota’s grin widens. “That’s because I'm a badass!” 

“I mean, yeah,” Vyncent agrees, knowing very well how amazing his best friends truly are. “But the make-up is cool too!”

“It accentuates your badassness even more.” Ashe adds.

Dakota basically preens at the compliments, his eyes shining with glee and satisfaction.

“Wow, William, you did a good job. You're so good at make-up William.” They all hear William mumble under his breath with a deadpan stare.“You're amazing friend who made me look so nice, I owe you my life, William—”

Dakota jokingly punches William’s shoulder, the force of which sends the other teen down onto the floor, before laughing gleefully and throwing himself at the lying teen. William, who is used to such manhandling, doesn’t even bother to stop his friend, taking the weight of the redhead with an expression as dead as it was before.

Vyncent turns back to Ashe.

“Do you want me to do your hair too?” He asks, picking up the discarded hairbrush. “Like in exchange, y’know? You did my hair, I’ll do yours?

“Hm?” Ashe tears their gaze away from the pile of teenage limbs in front of them to look back at the elf. “Oh! Yeah, sure. You can do my hair.”

They pause for a moment before adding with a frown. “Just… Maybe don’t use the hair clips.”

Vyncent smirks at that, shifting onto the couch to sit behind his friend.

“Why? You don’t trust me?” He asks playfully. He knows well that Ashe means no true insult with that request, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease his friend about it. 

“I mean… You just admitted to me that you have no clue how to use these.” Ashe replies, picking up one of the scattered hairclips and clacking it loudly. “And as much as I love you guys, I do not wish to have to cut my hair out because you decided to train on me.”

“...That’s fair.”

Vyncent gathers his friend’s hair and starts to brush through the silky, silver strands, making sure to do it as gently as possible. Slowly, he can feel his friend relax under his hands, tension visibly leaving their shoulders with a soft sigh. That surprises the elf slightly, like he mentioned before, Ashe isn’t really a touchy person. 

I guess even they can’t resist the bliss of a head massage. 

Sadly, this moment of relaxation doesn’t last long, as Ashe’s lap suddenly gets filled with a certain redhead, which startles both them and Vyncent.

“What about me?” Dakota asks, looking right up at Ashe from their lap. “Who’s gonna braid my hair?” 

“Uhhhh…” The younger teen stumbles through the words before mumbling out. “William?”

“William is painting his nails.” The aforementioned teen responds from his previous spot on the floor, although he is no longer lying there — instead, he is looking through his collection of black nail polish, picking up random bottles, looking at them for a moment, before putting them back down with a frown. “Also, I know like… two braids, maybe. And I for sure don’t have enough skill to put either of them on Dakota.” He adds, pointing at redhead’s vibrant but quite short hair, at least compared to the rest of them.

Ashe hums, running their fingers through said curls.

“You’re right… Kota does have pretty short hair.” They mumble, a small frown forming on their face. “Not much we can do, except maybe… I don’t know, putting some clips in? Like I did when showing Vyncent how to use them?”

A mischievous shine flashes in Dakota’s golden eyes as his gaze focuses on the hairclip that's still in one of Ashe’s hands.

“How many can you put in?” He asks, a grin slowly spreading on his face.

Ashe shrugs.

“Uhh, I don’t know? How many do you want?”

“All of them.”

“Ah. Well, if that’s the case…” They scoop up all the hairclips around them, moving carefully so as not to interrupt Vyncent’s work of separating different parts. “It’s not as if Vyncent would use these, anyway.”

The elf appreciates Ashe’s thoughtfulness, because while he has some experience, braiding his mother’s and the Greats’ hair as a child, and later learning how to tame his own, he still wouldn't consider himself really skilled in that regard. Or at least not skilled enough to work on an actively moving target.

Man, Ashe is so nice… We should hang out more! Why do we not hang out more? We never see each other! That’s bullshit! We need to fix that!

He ignores the fact that just this morning, he was contemplating an escape into the great sea, specifically to avoid this exact meet-up. It was a simple slip-up, a case of misjudgement and overthinking. It was morning Vyncent’s internal dialogue, and now that it’s afternoon, he’s basically a different, changed man.

Besides, he was worried for no reason — just like William said! Turns out that even with his lack of conversation skills, he is not as big of a friendship annihilator as he predicted himself to be. And since Ashe is so used to their overall weirdness that even with his conversation fumble — him starting their talk with “I don’t like my dad” is going to haunt him in the night, he knows it — it still is probably one of the more normal moments Ashe had with him.

Now that he thinks about it, slowly picking the parted hair, he doesn’t feel nervous around Ashe. He doesn’t think he was ever nervous around them, not even when they just met. His morning freak-out now seems to be even stupider and one big overexaggeration! How could he ever think about escape! Or that Ashe would hate him for some idiotic reason!

It’s the flowers. They seem to be messing with him, in more ways than just his lungs, like with his brain, making him more paranoid than he already is. Maybe they secretly release some sort of a venom that fucks with his mind? Make him panic more easily? Possibly induce crying at every possible moment? He should ask William if that’s possible. Or Dakota — he knows a lot about flowers, right?

Well, either way, it’s more reason to hate them. If dying isn’t enough…

A sudden twist rips inside his chest, making him flinch, more out of surprise than pain. Although his startled expression quickly turns into a wince as the familiar feeling of roots digging into his flesh amplifies with each second. It takes all of his will to suppress the coughs that threaten to escape. 

He has almost forgotten about the flowers, too focused on his time with his friends. A blissful moment of peace that, of course, has to be ruined by a reminder that because of those flowers, his own mortality is closer and more tangible than he ever wished it to be. It’s as if Death sat in this room with them, just waiting for him to finally fall, to be able to claim him as their own.

Does William feel it too? The doom that’s tied to me? To these flowers? He doesn’t seem to, but what if it’s a bluff, just like my own?

He doesn’t even notice how much he stiffens, gripping tightly at the ends of the silver hair he is supposed to be braiding.

Unfortunately for him, the owner of said hair does as Ashe slowly looks up, confused. As their eyes meet, their gaze shifts from confusion into worry. A silent question appears, hanging in the small space between them. One that Vyncent is so familiar with, especially these days.

“Are you okay?”

The short answer is no. No, he is not.

The long one is also no, followed by an hour of panic-induced crying, and accompanied by agonizing intervals of flower-puking.

But Ashe doesn’t need to hear that. They’ve already been kind enough to listen to his woes about his father – they don't need another avalanche of his problems that would for sure ruin their day.

So, instead, he swallows back his sorrows and petals, and smiles, hoping that Ashe doesn’t notice that it doesn’t exactly reach his eyes. Luckily for him, his friend seems to buy his bluff, returning a smile of their own — a shyer one and much more genuine than Vyncent’s – before turning back to putting more hairclips onto Dakota’s head.

Vyncent decides to also go back to his own work, to focus on something other than the nauseating feeling the flowers started to induce. He starts to slowly weave the silver hair in front of him, forming one of the three smaller braids he wants to make before connecting them together — just like Ashe did with his hair, but instead of letting them go loose, he wants to work them into one thick silver braid. 

At first, it takes all of his attention to focus on making sure that his creation is tight enough to not fall apart in a second, but also not too tight as to not hurt Ashe. But with each second, it becomes easier, and before he knows it, his hands weave the hair so smoothly it reminds him of a well-attuned wand in the hands of a grand wizard.

It’s as if he unlocked a long-forgotten skill, a hidden talent he suppressed for so long. Which… isn’t too far from the truth — like he mentioned, he used to braid his mom’s hair often. He remembers being a small child and sitting in the grass in front of his home, picking at the strands of his mom’s long hair. He remembers trying to weave them into the beautiful hairstyles his mom used to wear. His creation was… not perfect to say the least, looking more like a tangled mess than a proper braid, but his mother didn’t seem to mind as she proudly showed it off to the ladies of their village. She later taught him how to do it properly, and since then, he would braid her hair at any given occasion, mostly when she was doing some housework. When he got better at it — because let’s be honest, despite his mom’s lessons, his first tries were still horrible — he started braiding some of the Greats’ hair, although not as much as he’d do with his mother’s. It was… nice, a fun way to spend a break in his training or an excuse to hang out with his mom — something young Virion was way too embarrassed to admit he loved doing. 

He remembers how she’d explain to him the different types of braids, which one holds the best on different types of hair and how some of them had much deeper meanings than little him expected. Some were cool, like the Warrior braid — a braid that soldiers and adventurers would put on before a big fight as a luck charm. Others were more intimate, woven with flowers and herbs meant to protect the one who had it. His mom tried to put it on him once, but at the time his hair was way too short for it to work, so she simply just put the right flowers onto his head and called it a day.

I guess now she could finally do a proper one with my hair…

He glances at the silver strands in his hands.

…I can braid one for Ashe too…

He quickly loosens up his previous work on the middle braid and begins to rework it with a different method. It's a bit hard, as he has to do the parting once again, this time separating the hair into four strands instead of three, but after a moment, he starts to weave the familiar braid. The only thing missing were the herbs and flowers to put in it, but Vyncent doubted he could find them here on Prime. Besides, it’s the thought that counts, not perfect execution.

A chuckle escapes his lips as he remembers almost religiously putting on this braid on anyone who would let him. It had gotten to a point where his family would jokingly call him “The Hair Protector”. Young Virion even managed to put one on a visiting paladin from a different island. He later learned that in the said island’s culture, this offer was a sign of romantic interest. Needless to say, he got teased aggressively afterwards.

Speaking of those traditions…

“Did you know that in some parts of Fauna, braiding someone's hair is seen as a marriage proposal?” He says in an attempt to revive the conversation. He remembers that people enjoy learning about fun facts, and he knows that he is mostly out of other conversation tidbits - he already explained to them in detail about all the proper ways to skin a rat, and that’s like most of his knowledge - so this has to work. 

This has a slightly different outcome than he expected, as beneath him Ashe stiffens.

“Should…should I be worried?” They ask, voice filled with concern.

Dakota snaps his head back to look at the two of them, eyes wide with excitement. “Oh shit, are you guys engaged now?”

Vyncent laughs. 

“No, no! It's just an old tradition.” He shivers at the thought of getting accidentally engaged again. “Not to mention that it's not even from my island.”

“Oh, thank god.” Ashe mumbles, visibly relaxing.

The elf can’t help but let out an offended squawk at that comment. He knows he’s not the best choice for a future husband, but surely that doesn’t mean that getting engaged to him, accidental or not, is such an awful thing, right?

“Does every island have its own marriage traditions?” Dakota asks. It turns the elf’s attention from his apparently horrible engagement reviews as he looks at the redhead. Who apparently decided that just leaning on Ashe’s legs isn’t enough and managed to basically crawl onto the other teen’s lap, like a dog that’s demanding to be pet.

“Pretty much.” Vyncent half-shrugs, continuing to slowly weave silver strands of hair. “Makes sense — for a long time there hasn't been so much connection between them. Only once the trades between the islands were established, the cultures started to merge.”

Dakota nods before asking. “What’s the tradition over at your island?”

“Well…” Memories of the few weddings that happened in his town flash through his mind. The loud and cheerful music accompanied by the rhythmic stomping of dancers, the bright and colorful dresses and armors shining against the dark sky and the tables overflowing with delicious food and drink. He remembers the cheerful singing of the village people, happy that they’ve managed to live to see another ceremony of love that bloomed in their home. “There are few of them, but the most important one is probably the proposal knife.”

Dakota’s eyes immediately light up with intrigue.

“A proposal knife?”

“Yeah! Basically, if you want to marry someone, you get them a very nice and sharp knife.” Vyncent explains, smiling softly as he remembers being very little and staring with awe at the proudly displayed proposal daggers at one of the weddings he had attended. “If they accept it, it means that they want to marry you. If they don't… then you just got dumped…”

William hums from his spot on the couch. “That's interesting. It's almost like our tradition on Prime. Except instead of a knife, it's a ring.”

“A ring?” Vyncent frowns at that. “Why would you get a ring? You can’t defend yourself with that! Well, unless you enchant it, then maybe…”

“It's more of a symbol than anything else.” His friend says back as he adds another coat of blue polish to his nail. All of his fingers have black on them, except the middle one - Vyncent finds that hilarious. “A symbol of promise to marry. And with it being a ring, it's easy to wear it all the time…”

Vyncent nods. He can understand that explanation, although he still thinks giving your loved one a dagger is a much better symbol of love. And who says you can’t have it with you all the time! That’s silly — after all, Vyncent always has a knife on his person, and it’s never been an issue to carry it around! Quite the opposite, he used it so many times that not having it on him would be harder than just keeping one in his pocket! Compare that to a ring that can do nothing but look pretty (which he can admit, rings do look cool) — knives are simply a better choice, even from a practical point of view!

He glances back at William, his gaze falling on the other teen's hands, covered with many silver and black rings.

“I guess, you’ve got plenty of marriages planned then…” He comments with a teasing smirk.

William rolls his eyes at that, though Vyncent can see the sliver of fondness that flashes through them.

“Ha, ha, very funny, Mr. Knife," He bites back, his gaze unimpressed. Then, some sort of realization flashes in his dark eyes, before he looks up at Vyncent with a smirk. “Wait, since a knife is a marriage proposal… and you've been going around calling yourself knife…”

Dakota gasps before cooing with tease. “Oooooh, someone's a hidden romantic.”

Vyncent sputters at that. “I– wha– no. A knife might be a symbol of marriage at my home, but it's primarily a weapon. A very useful and dangerous one!”

His three friends just laugh at his explanations. Which they shouldn’t, because they make perfect sense! Knives are the superior weapons, beaten maybe only by a big sword. It's also why it makes sense that they'd become a symbol of engagement — they represent the promise of protection and giving it to your loved ones means a devoted trust that they won't hurt you with it! A beautiful meaning for an even more beautiful weapon! 

He huffs, his face burning up more than he would like it to, before focusing back on finishing the braid.

He quickly connects the three parts, weaving them into a one thick braid that he ends with one of his fancier scrunchies. He then also adds a pair of hair sticks, piercing them through the side braids and letting the attached silver flower decorations blend into the silver strands. 

He moves back to look at his creation, proud of how it came out — he wasn’t sure he'd manage to pull it off, but in the end, he managed to make this grand braid look almost regal, mostly thanks to Ashe’s beautiful silver hair.

“Well, I think I’m done,” He says, tapping his friend on the shoulder. “I can try to take a photo for you, if you want to see?”

Ashe smiles and passes him their phone as they continue putting the last hair clips into Dakota’s hair.

It takes him some time to get it right, but after a couple of blurry shots and one very unfortunate-looking selfie, Vyncent manages to take one decent picture, which he then promptly shows to his friend. 

Ashe’s eyes widen with awe as they gasp at the photo in front of them.

“Woah!” They whisper, taking the phone back and zooming at the details with a smile. “That’s so cool, where the hell did you learn how to make that? Oh, and the hair sticks… This is amazing!” 

Vyncent chuckles, feeling his cheeks warm up at the praise.

“Oh, it’s not that great…” He mumbles, flustered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I used to braid my mom’s hair as a kid, so I still remember some stuff. And I can for sure do better next time, like it’s not as fixed as I want it to be. And the protection braid — the middle one— that one for sure can be done way better—”

“Vyncent?”

“Yeah?”

“Just take the compliment.” Ashe looks at him with a stern but warm smile. “Trust me. You did great.”

The elf’s face burns, but he returns the smile. “I’m guessing you’re happy with it then?

“I’m so happy!” They look back at the photo, eyes shining. “Honestly, you need to teach me how to braid like that, ‘cause it looks so sick.”

They then turn to the teen in their lap.

“Dakota, look,” They show off Vyncent’s work, their hands gently brushing against the braid. “Vyncent also made me look cool!’

The redhead immediately jumps up and lets out an impressed yell.

“Holy shit! You never told us you’re a professional hair stylist!” He exclaimed, examining Ashe’s braid from every angle. “You need to do our hair more often, this looks awesome!”

Vyncent smiles at that offer. He kinda missed braiding his family’s hair, so he might as well do it with his new one. Ashe’s long hair is already perfect for that, and he can already think of a couple of hair tricks he could use on William or Tide. Dakota on the other hand… well, that would be more of a challenge, but Vyncent can think of something to put on the redhead.

Probably. Maybe.

Speaking of Dakota’s hair — after Ashe’s hard work, it doesn’t look like hair anymore, but more like a giant shell made out of plastic and metal clips. It reminds Vyncent of the warrior helmets back on Fauna, though some of the more feminine clips ruin that illusion a bit. Or maybe add to it? Vyncent isn’t sure — fashion is tricky, and war trends are no different. Perhaps there’s an army whose armor is solely decorated with bows and glitter somewhere in this confusing world. 

“Are you happy?” Ashe’s fingers brush over the mountain of clips, nails tapping against the plastic with satisfying clicks.

A big and bright grin appears on the not-so-red-anymore redhead’s face as he looks at the masterpiece of hairstyling on his head through the camera on Ashe’s phone. He even joins in on the clicking concert as he taps the shell with a giggle.

“Yes!” He jumps up onto his feet before turning back to Ashe and grabbing them by their shoulders. “Now, lemme do you!”

A surprised snort escapes the other teen, accompanied by a low huff of laughter from William.

“Bold choice of words here, Dakota…” Ashe chuckles.

“And in front of everybody, as well,” William adds with a smirk. “A bit inappropriate…”

Ashe looks at him with a judgmental and very much not impressed glare.

“Okay, you of all people are the last person who should be talking about inappropriate shit in front of everybody. Remember when we were in that coffee shop, and you loudly told me about your shirt-pillowca—” They don’t manage to finish their thought as a ghostly pale hand materializes on their mouth, muffling the rest of the words.

“HA, HA, ASHE! YOU’RE SO FUNNY!” William practically yells, his voice getting so high it makes Vyncent’s ears hurt a little. “ANYWAY, DAKOTA, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO TO ASHE?” His grip on the other teens tightens, much to the said teens' protests, as he stares at Dakota with a slightly manic look in his eyes. “I HOPE IT’S NOTHING BAD, BECAUSE I WOULD HATE FOR SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO ASHE RIGHT NOW. RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT. EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE.”

Wow, William is really protective of Ashe. That’s so sweet…

Dakota just glances between both of them with growing confusion.

“What?” He finally says with a tilt of his clip-covered head. “I just wanted to ask if Ashe wants to have some make-up done?”

“Oh.”

“What did you think I was going to do???”

“At this point, I was hoping for murder—”

“Ignore him, ‘Kota” Ashe finally manages to tear William’s hand off their mouth, giving him a quick glare before turning back to the redhead. “He’s being “that thing” stupid again.”

‘That thing’? 

Vyncent frowns. What is “that thing”, and why is William being stupid about it, and most importantly, why doesn’t he know about it? Is it another secret, or is it the same thing William and Dakota refused to tell him about the day before?

Why does everybody seem to know stuff about William, and he doesn’t?

A stab of pain in his lungs makes him flinch slightly.

“Anyway, you said you wanted to do my make-up?” Ashe continues, unaware of how much their small comment makes Vyncent’s heart twist in worry. “Do you have some plan, or do you want to just start painting and see where it goes?”

Dakota immediately brightens up, previous confusion disappearing in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, I have the coolest plan!” He exclaims with a grin, pulling out a bunch of different brushes and showing them off to Ashe. Vyncent has no clue from where he managed to pull them out of, as seemingly all of the make-up was still lying on a pile that's nowhere near Dakota. Hell, Vyncent isn’t even sure if these brushes even belonged to William. 

“Remember all those cool rock guys we listen to? They always wear all that cool make-up for their concerts, right?” The redhead explains, vividly gesticulating with the random brushes from Gods’ know where. “I bet I can recreate that! And then, you’ll look just as cool as me!”

Ashe nods, thinking deeply for a moment.

“Hmm, yeah… Yeah, we can do that.” They finally reply, to which Dakota cheers loudly, before gathering the needed stuff — this time taking stuff that for sure was William’s. “It’s mostly eyeshadow and liner, so just don’t gauge my eyes out, okay?”

The redhead turns back to them, face twisted in a grimace.

“With how Tide and Mark are going?” He says, voice dripping with disdain and repulsion. “I would be doing you a favor.”

Notes:

So if you dont follow me on tumblr - i finished dental school and I'm officially a dentist!
That's why I kinda dissapeared for a bit - I got burned out by life and I had so much shit going on that the fun stuff got put the side and now I need to relearn how to do them again weeeeeeeee
I'll try to work on this fic more now that I'm in better place and maybe do more shorter chapters

Special thanks to Kitty, who's still kind enough to beta for me, seriously Kitty is my MVP here <3333 (their ao3 name is @Pr1nc3y, check it out for a riptide jay centric fic!!!)

Fun fact for this chapter: I was supposed to be much longer and describe the entire sleepover. But then i realized how long would that take and I've already been taking so long so I've decided to split it. It's still stupidly long because I am who I am lmao.

 

If you want to ask me questions or see my art here's my tumblr!

 

See ya in next chapter!

Notes:

Hi hello, i hope you enjoyed this first chapter!!
This fic has been brewing in my google docs since February and im still writing it... b̶u̶t̶ ̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶f̶u̶c̶k̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶i̶m̶ ̶p̶o̶s̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶p̶t̶e̶r̶
Anyway i'll try to updates soon as possible, but as i mentioned above - im in dental school, so i might not have a lot of time to write. So don't expect often updates.

Special thanks to Spider and Kitty, who read my spam on discord and said "hey, you should write this". Thank you guys for encouraging me, I love you guys <3
Another special thanks to Nat and D who did beta for this chapter - I am so sorry you had to wrangle this mess.

Fun fact of this chapter: The law talk that you see in this chapter is all thanks to D, who literally wrote to me "hey you want more obnoxious law talk? cause i can do that.". And they did! Thank you D!

If you want to ask me questions or see my art here's my tumblr!
See ya in next chapter!