It was the moment, she could feel it. Almost as if the breeze carried the air differently, lighter, and the light painted the scene in front of her softly, like one of the many works of art her brunette loved. She could see her through the mirror’s reflection, reapplying her characteristic red lipstick and tucking the stray hairs, delicately falling on her face, behind her ears. Today, she wasn’t wearing her signature bandana, or one of the beautiful hairstyles she usually adorned her lovely brown curls with, which now cascaded freely down her back like a waterfall.
She wanted to frame the image in front of her eyes in a photograph, and be able to remember this day vividly for the rest of her life. Their eyes met in the reflection, receiving a wink and a flirtatious smile that quickly made her look away from the gaze, a brown rich and deep like her morning coffee, and feeling her cheeks blush a soft crimson, like the color of the dress Melissa was wearing, subtly accentuating her soft curves as if she were a Greek statue.
A gentle laugh filled the space within the bar’s bathroom where they were, magically lightening the atmosphere and the nerves she felt on edge. She knew they both could sense it; today was the day.
With newfound conviction, she quickly smoothed her lavender dress, adjusting the small wrinkles that were starting to form, and gave her reflection a fleeting glance to ensure she looked her best. She wasn’t used to wearing dresses or being in situations like this, but the beautiful Mexican woman by her side had managed to break down her walls, motivating her daily to see life with new eyes and experience new things. Turning her gaze back to her beautiful companion, she reached out to take her hand, gently wrapping her own around it.
“Cê tà pronta, guapita?”
“Estoy lista, gatinha.”
”Vamos voltar então.” she responded softly, leading her back to the dance floor.
She wasn’t used to dancing or going out at night, or going out at all. If you asked her friends, they would tell you that Celine was simply a solitary and introverted person, possessing a character similar to that of a cat, and she enjoyed her alone time and privacy more than anything else in her life, perhaps except for her work and her childhood cat, Zeno. This was why she had come to the city about five months ago, in search of peace, stability, and a new beginning after a few intense years of family conflicts that had finally overflowed her patience. She was deeply grateful to her past self for making that brave decision because since then, her life had never been so happy.
Her job as a writer allowed her to live wherever her heart desired, and she had chosen Quesadilla Bay because her publisher’s headquarters were there. It was said that the small town had a unique magic in its lands, making its residents cheerful and community-spirited. If you asked her, she didn’t believe much in those words, but perhaps the beautiful woman accompanying her tonight was the personification of those ancient legends.
They had met at the psychological consultation she had started attending a month after moving. She wasn’t her therapist, but they often took the same bus back to their homes, as they lived a few buildings apart in the heart of the city. It was Melissa who approached her first, with an extroverted and curious soul that couldn’t ignore the dark blonde after three weeks of leaving the same place and getting off at the same stop.
They quickly formed a friendship, built on a foundation of common interests and personalities that simply clicked. When her guapita found out that after two months of living in the city, she still didn’t know it beyond the medical consultation, her publisher’s building, the corner minimarket, and her own building, she made it her personal mission to introduce Celine to her new home, aiming for the young woman to fall in love with the unique magic brought by the coastal breeze of Quesadilla.
She had succeeded, it took just three months not only to make her fall for the hidden charms of the bay, but also for her beautiful and charismatic guide. She wasn’t someone interested in romance or particularly attracted to the idea of a relationship, her family giving her a poor example of them, but something in Melissa had awakened her senses, and after weeks of flirting that kept blurring the line between friendship and something more, she was more than ready to finally cross the invisible boundary she had set at the beginning of their relationship.
The brunette had managed to open and enter her heart, and every opportunity they spent together, getting to know each other more and more, made it increasingly inevitable to reach this moment. She knew she had to be the one to take the first step now, and she was finally ready to do so.
Back on the dance floor, she delicately placed her hands on her companion’s waist, subtly pulling her closer to her own body. She could feel the brunette’s arms resting on her shoulders, her slender fingers starting to play with the short strands of her hair. Both moved in a gentle sway to the rhythm of the song playing through the bar’s speakers.
“Your streak has grown out, maybe it's time I help you bleach it again,” her Mel mentioned, moving one of her hands to the older girl’s face to brush her bangs with her thumb.
The white streak decorating her hair had been an impulsive decision during a night of insomnia. Celine had sent a message around two in the morning, not expecting a prompt response, and maybe a brief lecture on why it was a bad idea in the morning, but she was surprised to hear knocks on her door and see the Mexican outside her apartment, just 20 minutes after sending the message, still in pajamas, with her satin bonnet on to protect her beautiful curls at night, and a bag that seemed to contain bleach and toner.
She knew she could always count on Melissa for whatever she needed, as the brunette always reminded her every time they met, but seeing her there, so ready and willing to help her in the middle of one of her identity crises, made her realize, for the first time, how her heartbeat simply accelerated in her presence.
“Do you want to come back to my apartment after we get tired of this place and do it?” she responded, in what she considered a subtly flirtatious way, not wanting to end the night too soon.
Tonight was a themed night at the bar near their homes, and she had taken the initiative to officially invite her to their first official date together, after noticing the Mexican’s interest upon discovering the event in a flyer on the street while they were walking Meli’s puppy, Firusflais. Since then, there had been a special sparkle in the young woman’s chocolate eyes, still present now, as they made eye contact.
“¿Te me estás insinuando, belleza?” she responded with a flirtatious tone, sparking a small panic within her.
“NAO! Quero dizer, sim!… talves?” Her quick, panicked babbling once again elicited Melissa’s soft laughter, which had an automatic calming effect on her nerves.
“Calma, gatinha, I know what you mean. I’m happy to go home with you tonight and help with your beautiful hair.” Her hand rested on her cheek, her thumb now gently caressing it. Her guapita knew about her asexuality, and although it was her nature to make flirtatious comments like this, she always assured her that those were never her intentions and that she simply enjoyed seeing the blush that always appeared on her cheeks when she was flirted with.
She couldn’t help, being so close and with Melissa’s gentle hands still in her hair and on her face, to take a small breath to gather her strength and shorten the distance between them a little more. The brunette, playing along, adjusted her body further into the blonde’s arms, now their bodies fully in contact and their faces just a few centimeters apart.
“Melissa, guapita, this night has been magical…” she gave a small sigh, briefly redirecting her gaze to the girl’s plump, red lips before quickly returning her eyes to hers. “And I really enjoy spending my time with you, you’ve changed my life, little by little, and I’m so fortunate to have you. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
She paused momentarily as she felt her eyes well up, feeling like a loser for not being able to confess her feelings to the goddess she held in her arms, but before she could continue, Melissa stole the words from her.
“Dulzura, you’ve changed my life too, thank you for coming into it and making me so happy.” She whispered, looking directly into her eyes and still caressing her cheek, the gesture dissipating the tears that still clouded her vision. There was no need to speak louder; being so close, mere murmurs sufficed to understand each other.
“Meli, Lissa, guapita… eu gosto demais de você…” Gently squeezing her waist, she moved closer to whisper in her ear. “E eu adoraria, se você me der a chance, beijar você agora.”
She could feel how Melissa, still with one of her hands tangled in her hair, gently pushed it to establish eye contact again, their faces barely a centimeter apart. Both blushing but with beautiful smiles and a gaze that screamed love as they looked at each other.
“No hay nada que me gustaría más que besarte, corazón.” she responded, the brunette taking the initiative and finally bringing their lips together for the first time.
Melissa’s lips tasted like the margaritas she had ordered when they were still at the table, with a slight hint of cherries, probably due to the lip balm she always carried with her. With her eyes closed, her sweet scent filled her nostrils, almost visualizing her perfume in the back right corner of the psychologist’s vanity. And the touch of her lips, moving in automatic synchrony, completely clouded the rest of her senses.
But, more than anything, this first kiss felt like coming home, warm and comforting, and completely addictive. She knew right then that she would strive for the rest of her life, and all the lives to come, to continue kissing the lips of the sweet woman she could already assure would be the love of her life.
Maybe an OXXO wasn’t the best place to meet the love of your life, but he couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities after that handsome man, his knight in shining armor, left the store with his phone number.
Wait, wait, wait—maybe he should start explaining from the beginning.
Originally, it was just another normal day at work. The sun was blazing outside the store, the sidewalk practically vibrating from the heat. It was like any other summer day, and while he was happy to be back from his first year at university, he’d much rather be spending his time doing anything else, like hanging out with family and friends who were also back.
He had taken this job because he had hit it off with one of his roommates in the dorms, his new best friend Jaiden, based on their shared dislike for their other roommates. Together, they were planning to rent an apartment near campus for the next year of their studies.
He knew that if he asked, his parents would easily give him the money needed to find a good apartment, if they didn’t build him his own building first. But he didn’t want to put more burden on his parents, who were already paying for the part of his education not covered by scholarships and giving him a nice allowance to live comfortably through university. He wanted to take on this responsibility himself and was working hard to save up at least a few months’ rent for the apartment he and Jaiden had planned to share.
If he worked here during the summer, plus what he had saved during the year, he’d be ready to sign the lease once back in Quesadilla, ready to start a new semester at university.
At that moment, he was restocking inventory on the various shelves in the store, making sure there was enough stock of the most popular products for the season and reorganizing the mess left by a group of teenagers who had just come through the store.
He had been at it for a couple of hours, having received new merchandise in the morning, processing all the new items, organizing them in the small storeroom, bringing out boxes to display in the store, and restocking where necessary.
His coworker was on a lunch break, taking advantage of the low customer traffic during the hottest part of the day when no one wanted to be outside unless absolutely necessary. After making sure the shelves were tidy, full, and organized, he quickly went to fetch a cloth and the small ladder from the storeroom, ready to clean the top of the refrigerators to keep the store looking neat.
If he had learned anything from his father Vegetta, it was cleanliness, order, and symmetry, something he tried to apply in his daily life, even if it wasn’t always perfect. At least at work, his efforts were recognized, and his father’s teachings were what helped him get the job in the first place.
Quickly opening the small ladder, he started cleaning, not hearing the sound of the store’s bell indicating the entrance of a new customer, too focused on finishing quickly so he could return to the register before his coworker came back from lunch.
It wasn’t until he felt one of the refrigerator doors bump into the ladder that he noticed another person’s presence, startling him so much that he physically jumped and lost his balance, narrowly avoiding a fall in front of the customer.
Squeezing his eyes shut and mentally preparing for the impact, he was surprised when it never came, but what shocked him more were the strong arms he felt around his torso, his feet still tangled in the ladder rungs.
Slowly opening his eyes, ready to thank the person for their help, apologize for the inconvenience, and run to hide in the storeroom to call his coworker and beg him to return and handle the customer, unable to deal with the embarrassment. But all those foolish, self-destructive thoughts stopped the moment he locked eyes with the bluest eyes he had ever seen, like shining sapphires, with a gaze as deep as the ocean, feeling as if the stranger in front of him could see his deepest secrets with just one look.
The young man quickly helped him to his feet, lifting him off the ladder with his strong arms, and he could feel his body slowly melting, though not from the outside heat.
“¿Estás bien?” The stranger asked, his voice expressive and somewhat deep. He also detected a slight accent, which he quickly identified as Portuguese.
“S-si, gracias por s-salvarme,” he couldn’t help but stutter, caught between embarrassment and attraction to the man in front of him.
He was tall, though only slightly taller than him, with dark blond hair tied in a half-ponytail, a white streak in his bangs that gracefully fell across his forehead, fair skin with a slight tan and some small freckles, typical for this time of year and place. After a quick glance, he noticed multiple tattoos and scars on his arms, which, personally, didn’t help his brain, already on the verge of a short circuit.
“Sorry for bumping into you, I didn’t notice.” The man apologized politely while Roier mentally made a list of all the attributes he was learning about this stranger.
“Don’t worry, things like this happen here more often than you’d think. At this point, it’s part of the job.” He tried to be funny and downplay what had happened, ready to flirt with the handsome man the universe had sent his way to break the monotony of working at an OXXO.
Apparently, it worked, as the handsome young man let out a light laugh, a smile forming on his lips, which Roier mentally cursed for being attractive as well.
“Even so, forgive me, I’ll be more careful in the rest of the store.” He winked and walked to another aisle to find whatever he was going to buy. Meanwhile, Roier tried to quickly recover from the interaction they had just had.
He quickly went to the register and reached for his phone, ready to bombard his friends with messages and demand help in winning over the handsome Brazilian shopping in the store. Although he didn’t have much time to act, as the man soon approached the register, ready to pay for his items.
He scanned his items one by one and mentally analyzed his purchase. “A bag of regular Doritos, does he know that Mexican ones are spicier than in other countries? A bag of Sabritas, classic, a ham and cheese sandwich, is that his lunch? Two Cokes? Is he with someone?” But a quick glance around the store calmed his nerves, as he didn’t see anyone else, just the man looking at the candies on the small shelves below the register.
“Anything else, sir?” He asked politely, though not ready to end this interaction and let the most handsome man he had ever seen leave the store without at least knowing his name.
“Yes, this candy, do you like it?” He said, placing the candy on the counter. Roier quickly recognized it as a Lucas Muecas, a candy he used to eat a lot after school, a treat his father would often buy him after a long day.
“Yes, it’s good, a bit spicy but with a strong sweet flavor.” He replied honestly, hoping to extend the conversation a bit.
“Alright, just that then.” The man said while starting to search his pockets for something to pay with.
Meanwhile, Roier quickly placed all the items in a plastic bag and strategized his next move.
Once paid, he handed the bag directly to the man, their hands brushing in the process, feeling a slight electric shock run down his spine.
The handsome man quickly rummaged through the bag and handed the candy back to his still-outstretched hand after the contact.
“For you, again, sorry about earlier.” He still looked a bit embarrassed.
“Really, don’t worry about it, I’m fine. And thank you, but I can’t accept it.” He tried to return the candy, but the handsome young man just stepped back, shaking his head.
“Nao, nao, nao, I insist, it’s the least I can do after almost making you fall.”
“Well, thank you very much…” still embarrassed, he squeezed the candy in his hand, bringing it to himself. Gathering courage from who knows where, he decided to take a risky decision and flirt with the guy. What’s the worst that could happen? Embarrass himself and never see him again? That had already happened today.
“But, if you really wanted to make me feel better, maybe you could ask me out?” He felt his cheeks and nose blush slightly, but there was no turning back now.
He smiled when he noticed the blue-eyed man’s gaze, a special sparkle now in them, as he looked at him with a half-smile. Maybe he had made the right move.
“Alright, Roier, give me your number.” He said, handing him his receipt to write his phone number on it. How did he know his name? He wondered, though quickly realizing his work uniform had a small name tag.
Carefully taking the receipt not to wrinkle it, he quickly found a pen on the counter, writing his phone number along with his name and a small winking face, like the one the other had made earlier.
The blond received the receipt back, gently taking his hand in the process, then carefully placing the receipt in his wallet.
“I’m off at 5,” Roier informed him quickly, in case their potential date was today.
“That works perfectly for me, see you then…guapito.” He quickly said goodbye, winking at him again and giving him one last smile for the moment.
“Ay… gatinho!” He couldn’t help but blush at his words, still processing what had just happened.
After a few minutes, contemplating his life and inventing fictitious scenarios in his mind about his future with his most beautiful customer, he realized he never asked for his name, quickly feeling like the biggest idiot in history.
Though his suffering didn’t last long, a few minutes later, he felt his phone vibrate with multiple messages.
From: ????
Hi, guapito!
I’m Cellbit, the guy you served a little while ago.
Sorry for not texting immediately, I had to take my sister back to our hotel.
See you at 5 ;)
God bless summer jobs, annoying roommates, and the country of Brazil for having the most beautiful gatinho in the world.
Cellbit would think that, for the third time he received a call of this type in his life, he would be somewhat more prepared for the flood of emotions that quickly took possession of his chest, but, as an experienced father, he recognizes that it was inevitable, and that the nerves and anxiety he felt at that moment were a natural part of the process.
Just a few minutes ago, he was in Esperanza’s room, helping her with the hairstyle she had chosen for that day and laughing at the faces she made at him from the reflection of the small vanity mirror in her room. His husband, just one floor away, was still struggling with their children, especially Richarlyson, to get them to take a bath and get ready to go out. Bobby, a natural instigator, was simply playing along with his younger brother, just for the satisfaction of seeing their apá run after them around the house.
If they kept going at that pace, they would be late for the family lunch organized by his in-laws, unpunctual to celebrate his sister-in-law Leo’s recent victory in a fencing tournament. However, all plans they originally had went out the window the moment he felt his phone ring and recognized the call's origin. He quickly gave his daughter a look through the mirror, which she immediately understood, placing small bands at the end of her unfinished braid and leaving her room with the mission to find her dad.
Without thinking much, he took his phone, inhaling quickly and mentally preparing himself for the words he knew he would hear. Four days earlier, he and Roier had received a call from the agency, informing them of the possibility of receiving a small baby of just three months old who had tragically lost his parents in an accident, his fate still undecided as the police were still searching for any relatives willing to take custody of the child. His guapito, bless his heart, quickly moved by the information, promptly informed the social worker that if needed, they were even willing to be foster parents for as long as it took to find the baby a permanent home.
It was impossible for his mozão to avoid feeling and acting quickly on the baby's situation they had just learned about, reminding him of his eldest son and how he had come into his and Jaiden’s life, just a one-year-old infant who had lost his mother, a close friend of both, after a long battle with cancer. And he didn't blame him, for just thinking about the child, his paternal instinct screamed with an intense need to care and protect.
Finally, after months of paperwork and extensive investigation, their family was first on the list of potential adoptive parents of the Federation, a government agency dedicated to the safety and protection of children and youth in dangerous situations. Cellbit knew better than anyone how cruel the system could be, having grown up in it and experienced firsthand the suffering it brought to children abandoned by life itself, deciding from an early age that if he ever became a father, it would be to a child from the system, just like him.
That's how Richarlyson and Esperanza had come into his life. The first, like his older brother with his dad, came his way at the mere age of one, being the youngest patient of Pac, his friend and one of his roommates at the time, who was in the process of creating a special prosthesis for the little one considering the rapid growth of the infant. Just a couple of sessions with him were enough to have his friend wrapped around his little finger, being legally adopted by him and Pac and raised among the group of friends and roommates, whom Richas considered all his parents, affectionately nicknamed Favela as their family name.
At that time, he had only been dating Roier for a few months, who quickly became one of his lifelines in the process of becoming a father, embracing fatherhood with an open heart. His little Bobby also played a crucial role, who, with his short three years, helped his little brother quickly adapt to his new environment and life, eager to teach him everything he was learning and ready to play with him for the rest of his life.
Esperancita, on the other hand, joined their family a year after their marriage, already a five year old girl, whom they adopted out of the foster care system after a short but painful life of abandonment, having moved from family to family without a permanent home. It took a while for her to adapt to the chaotic but loving family unit they formed with his guapito and two whirlwind sons, but there was no one like his beloved to get even the most tormented soul to come out of its shell, having experienced it firsthand in those times when they were just a pair of namorados. Their princess had come to change their lives and fill one of the missing pieces of what was their family, the perfect little sandwich right between her brothers.
Since then, their precious family of five had become his main focus, leaving his detective career aside to pursue his dream of writing a mystery and horror book series, and to be able to spend more time with his children from home, while his husband continued to grow his private psychology practice. This was until a few months ago when, right around the second anniversary of adopting their daughter, after a sleepless night talking with Roier about everything and nothing at the same time, they jointly concluded that it was the right time to finally complete their family and add one last member to it, starting the process again to adopt another little one into their egg carton.
In the present, as the social worker confirmed that indeed, the baby they had only known about for a few days was theirs, he felt his husband approaching him. Quickly thanking her and informing her that they would be at the hospital as soon as possible to pick him up, he quickly ended the call and turned to look his guapito in the eyes.
“Gatinho?” Roier looked at him with eyes full of hope and anxiety.
“Guapito… Our baby is waiting for us.” Saying those words alleviated some of the nervousness gripping his heart.
In a special and intimate moment, they exchanged a look full of excitement and love, before each going their separate ways to prepare quickly, just as they had planned. Cellbit hurried to their room, speeding to grab the bag they had prepared for their little one in case the long-awaited call came and started getting the car ready, while Roier ran to find their little ones, updating them quickly on the news they had been waiting for as a family and taking them to Jaiden’s house for her to watch them, thanking the universe and the gods above that she was just a house away.
Once in the car with his husband and heading to the hospital, he drove carefully fast to the Quesadilla Hospital, anxious to have the youngest member of their family in his arms as soon as possible. Roier, on his part, apologized to his parents for not being able to attend the organized lunch and shared the happy news, hearing Leo's screams of joy through the speakerphone of his husband's phone. After a brief shared laugh at hearing his in-laws' excitement, they spent the rest of the short drive in comfortable silence, both still in the process of internalizing what was about to happen and feeling their bodies vibrate with that familiar paternal anxiety.
At the hospital, everything became a blurred memory until they were outside the room where their son was, squeezing his husband’s hand in his to give them both the courage they needed to enter the room. The social worker, after greeting them, briefly updated them on the child's health status and gave them the go-ahead to meet the newest member of their family, congratulating them in the process.
The moment their eyes fell on their baby, the tiniest thing he had ever seen in his life, wrapped in a blanket and in the center of a crib that looked too big in comparison, all the anxiety running through his veins vanished and was quickly replaced with a love so intense it made every cell in his body vibrate. It took just one look to know that he was the missing piece in the puzzle of the family he had built with the love of his life.
Feeling his husband’s hand leave his, he redirected his gaze to him, watching as he slowly approached the little sleeper to take him in his arms and kiss his small head with few light brown hairs. If before he felt his heart couldn’t handle all the love coursing through his being, seeing his guapito with their baby made it finally explode. He loved the emotions his children unleashed in him, but nothing compared to the blinding joy that filled his chest at seeing him, his guapito, in the precise moment he became a father again. “Gods,” he thought, “how I love sharing this life with you.”
“Cellbo… he’s here, finally.” Roier’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, just like his. The small room emanated an aura of peace, wrapping them in a blanket of love and the radiance typically associated with new parents. Not wanting to exclude himself from the moment, he embraced his husband from behind, his hands gently resting on his guapito’s, holding the little one. The baby smell reaching his nose was what made his tears fall freely down his cheeks.
“His name is José,” said the social worker. Honestly, he had forgotten she was in the room with them, blinded by his emotions and the divine sight before his eyes.
“Yes, he looks like a José,” he quickly commented, analyzing his little one’s fine features, from his long eyelashes, his plump and rosy cheeks, to the small pout on his lips, so similar to his husband’s that he could easily pass as his biological child. A soft yet strong name for this little boy, a gift from his parents that will accompany him for the rest of his life.
His guapito, for his part, begins to gently rock the baby as he feels him move in his arms, still enchanted by the mere presence of the little one in his hands. When the baby’s tiny eyelids fluttered open, he could not help but let out a small sound of delight as his gaze meets a beautiful pair of green irises looking at them with curiosity. He knew that, technically, the color of the baby's eyes could still change, but he wanted to engrave those sweet green eyes into his memory and into the permanence of life itself, as they perfectly completed the image of sweetness that was his youngest child.
"He looks like a Pepito… ¿No lo crees, corazón?" Roier softly mentions, as if speaking louder would disrupt the tranquility enveloping them. And he couldn't agree more, that sweet look called for a fitting nickname. While he had the face of a José, Pepito felt just right.
"Você está certo amor..." he murmurs as well, the words escaping his lips naturally. "Pepito, bem-vindo à família."
He had been locked up in that castle for days, now his castle, his brain quick to remind him, with no intention of leaving and facing reality. That place, which had seen some of his happiest days on that cursed island, was now a mere reflection of what his life had become, surrounded by desolate spaces without the laughter that had filled the place just a few months ago, in a house abandoned by those who had made it a home, just as his heart felt since that fateful day.
Initially, in a state of delirium and blinded by his emotions of the moment, he had come to that place with the intention of taking ownership and making that palace his own, removing the paintings that filled the hallways as if by doing so he could remove all the painful memories that tormented his mind, of those friendships whose whereabouts were still unknown, of the children he would never see grow up, of the family he would never have again, and of the one who had sworn promises of love just to leave him alone, like all those he had loved in his life.
Clarity lifted the fog that was his contained anger the moment he decided to sleep, after days of sleeplessness between purgatory and his escape from that place built on nightmares, in the bed he used to share with the one he had decided would be his life partner. His scent was still ingrained in the sheets they used to battle for between dreams on those nights when the stars aligned and they shared the bed, only to end up in each other's arms, seeking the warmth and peace that the other transmitted. Coffee and old books, his mind reminded him, as if he were still there.
That was the moment when he finally broke down, unable to contain the tears that had been hiding behind his eyes since the moment he saw those farewell messages and last words of love, before he disappeared from his side for what felt like the last time. The shock and rage that had consumed and accompanied him those days finally vanished when reality settled into his bones and soul, transforming him once again into a small child, desolate and abandoned by the world, drowning in his sobs and waiting for the only arms in which he felt a true sense of comfort.
Since then, he had not been able to sleep, not really, locking himself in his sadness and with no desire to find a way out of his pain. Sleep did not come easily to him, and when it did, he felt choked by the scenarios his mind built, only to return him to his cruel reality. He roamed the wide hallways of the castle as if he were a ghost, sinking deeper and deeper into his sadness and the feeling of emptiness that settled more and more in his chest, accompanied only by spiders, that had made the palace their home since it was abandoned for that island taken from the bowels of hell, and the sad melodies that emerged from his small audio system.
He had lost track of time, unable to recognize how many days had passed since he had decided to isolate himself from the world due to the lack of sleep and his sorrow, always locked within the walls of the castle built on pillars of hope for a better future and the desire for a home to shelter and protect those the heart of its creator held closest. Currently, he was its only inhabitant, though he felt no more than a wandering spirit without any destination or purpose, leaving all his hopes for a better future in the hands of the one to whom he had promised at the altar that he would always be by his side.
His wedding vows, now nothing more than a series of unfulfilled promises, and the memories of that day were the only things on his mind at that moment, as he observed their wedding cake. The man he married had decided to keep it, as a tangible reminder of what he said had been the happiest day of his life, displaying it proudly in the castle's kitchen to all who visited the place. His gaze focused on the ornament that decorated the top of the cake, and he could feel his vision blur, just as he had experienced on that special date, as his mind vividly relived the moment when he felt his heart would explode from the love coursing through his veins, while he firmly embraced his gatinho to the rhythm of the waltz.
They had danced together on previous occasions, like those times they had shared the dance floor at Las Casualonas, but nothing could compare to how intimate that moment felt. His beloved's breath on his neck while he murmured the sweet lyrics of the melody they swayed to, only for his ears to hear. Usually, he was the one who loudly dedicated love songs in the moments they shared together, the change causing his heart to race and soft tears to start running down his cheeks. He had managed to hold out until that moment, always being a more reserved person with his true emotions, hidden behind a facade of happiness and a broad smile always, but at that instant, his soul rejoiced in the arms of the one he loved like no one else before, with a happiness so great it could not be contained in his body.
His husband, his mind provided for the first time since they exchanged rings and became spouses in the presence of their family and friends, was the most special person that existed in this universe and all the others. Only with him did he feel capable of expressing his true emotions, letting the tears he had held back until that moment fall freely while he hid his face in his hair and smelled his fragrance, so him, letting his senses be blinded by the presence of the owner of his soul and being, his Cellbit, while they continued moving to the slow rhythm they shared to the sound of the music, now, as one.
Unaware of what he was doing, he abruptly stops upon feeling a gentle breeze touch his wet cheeks, sending a shiver from deep within his being. He had been so immersed in his memories that he hadn't noticed when he started dancing, to the same rhythm he shared with his most precious dance partner, guided by the same melody they had danced to on such a special moment, the song still filling his ears from his small stereo and soon coming to its end. As the new harmonies of a sad song that he remembers hearing at some past moment begin, he is unable to fight against the new tangent his brain provides him at that instant.
He had been so close to losing him just a few days before their wedding, thanks to the noble heart of his beloved and his deep love for those he considers family. Thanks to that moving event, they decided to promise themselves to each other and be together for the rest of whatever life they had left, whether short or long. After spending time together as companions and confidants, and later living together for so many months as spouses, he knew better than anyone how his gatinho's mind and heart worked, so he could easily understand why he made the decision he did the day his life stopped. He himself had experienced firsthand what it was like to lose a child and would never blame him for what he did, a conclusion that took him some time to reach, but that didn't make his reality any less painful. He would never wish on anyone else what he was going through since the moment his world stopped spinning, not even on the one who had betrayed him like no one had before, a pain so excruciating and consuming that it burned from the depths of his being, slowly and persistently consuming his entire body, leaving only an exorbitant amount of love with no place to go and find refuge.
His soul bleeds and bleeds for a love that lost its home in the hands of the man he would continue loving for the rest of his life, the one who cared for and kept that love within his own soul, as if they were simply one, an exact reflection and in perfect sync. He felt incapable of dealing with the cruel reality in which he was immersed, the last dancer on the floor, destined to finish alone the waltz they had started together, living in memories of the past with every step taken.
Hi y’all! Thanks for the love you’re given to this little fic❤️
I just convinced some friends to read this word vomit to make edits if necessary, if all goes well it should be ready to be uploaded to AO3 today! It's been a while since I last wrote something for a fandom, which I'm pretty excited about.
Please, if you have any constructive criticism or comments, don't be afraid to share them with me :^) hopefully I can continue to improve and write stories that connect with you guys.
He had been locked up in that castle for days, now his castle, his brain quick to remind him, with no intention of leaving and facing reality. That place, which had seen some of his happiest days on that cursed island, was now a mere reflection of what his life had become, surrounded by desolate spaces without the laughter that had filled the place just a few months ago, in a house abandoned by those who had made it a home, just as his heart felt since that fateful day.
Initially, in a state of delirium and blinded by his emotions of the moment, he had come to that place with the intention of taking ownership and making that palace his own, removing the paintings that filled the hallways as if by doing so he could remove all the painful memories that tormented his mind, of those friendships whose whereabouts were still unknown, of the children he would never see grow up, of the family he would never have again, and of the one who had sworn promises of love just to leave him alone, like all those he had loved in his life.
Clarity lifted the fog that was his contained anger the moment he decided to sleep, after days of sleeplessness between purgatory and his escape from that place built on nightmares, in the bed he used to share with the one he had decided would be his life partner. His scent was still ingrained in the sheets they used to battle for between dreams on those nights when the stars aligned and they shared the bed, only to end up in each other's arms, seeking the warmth and peace that the other transmitted. Coffee and old books, his mind reminded him, as if he were still there.
That was the moment when he finally broke down, unable to contain the tears that had been hiding behind his eyes since the moment he saw those farewell messages and last words of love, before he disappeared from his side for what felt like the last time. The shock and rage that had consumed and accompanied him those days finally vanished when reality settled into his bones and soul, transforming him once again into a small child, desolate and abandoned by the world, drowning in his sobs and waiting for the only arms in which he felt a true sense of comfort.
Since then, he had not been able to sleep, not really, locking himself in his sadness and with no desire to find a way out of his pain. Sleep did not come easily to him, and when it did, he felt choked by the scenarios his mind built, only to return him to his cruel reality. He roamed the wide hallways of the castle as if he were a ghost, sinking deeper and deeper into his sadness and the feeling of emptiness that settled more and more in his chest, accompanied only by spiders, that had made the palace their home since it was abandoned for that island taken from the bowels of hell, and the sad melodies that emerged from his small audio system.
He had lost track of time, unable to recognize how many days had passed since he had decided to isolate himself from the world due to the lack of sleep and his sorrow, always locked within the walls of the castle built on pillars of hope for a better future and the desire for a home to shelter and protect those the heart of its creator held closest. Currently, he was its only inhabitant, though he felt no more than a wandering spirit without any destination or purpose, leaving all his hopes for a better future in the hands of the one to whom he had promised at the altar that he would always be by his side.
His wedding vows, now nothing more than a series of unfulfilled promises, and the memories of that day were the only things on his mind at that moment, as he observed their wedding cake. The man he married had decided to keep it, as a tangible reminder of what he said had been the happiest day of his life, displaying it proudly in the castle's kitchen to all who visited the place. His gaze focused on the ornament that decorated the top of the cake, and he could feel his vision blur, just as he had experienced on that special date, as his mind vividly relived the moment when he felt his heart would explode from the love coursing through his veins, while he firmly embraced his gatinho to the rhythm of the waltz.
They had danced together on previous occasions, like those times they had shared the dance floor at Las Casualonas, but nothing could compare to how intimate that moment felt. His beloved's breath on his neck while he murmured the sweet lyrics of the melody they swayed to, only for his ears to hear. Usually, he was the one who loudly dedicated love songs in the moments they shared together, the change causing his heart to race and soft tears to start running down his cheeks. He had managed to hold out until that moment, always being a more reserved person with his true emotions, hidden behind a facade of happiness and a broad smile always, but at that instant, his soul rejoiced in the arms of the one he loved like no one else before, with a happiness so great it could not be contained in his body.
His husband, his mind provided for the first time since they exchanged rings and became spouses in the presence of their family and friends, was the most special person that existed in this universe and all the others. Only with him did he feel capable of expressing his true emotions, letting the tears he had held back until that moment fall freely while he hid his face in his hair and smelled his fragrance, so him, letting his senses be blinded by the presence of the owner of his soul and being, his Cellbit, while they continued moving to the slow rhythm they shared to the sound of the music, now, as one.
Unaware of what he was doing, he abruptly stops upon feeling a gentle breeze touch his wet cheeks, sending a shiver from deep within his being. He had been so immersed in his memories that he hadn't noticed when he started dancing, to the same rhythm he shared with his most precious dance partner, guided by the same melody they had danced to on such a special moment, the song still filling his ears from his small stereo and soon coming to its end. As the new harmonies of a sad song that he remembers hearing at some past moment begin, he is unable to fight against the new tangent his brain provides him at that instant.
He had been so close to losing him just a few days before their wedding, thanks to the noble heart of his beloved and his deep love for those he considers family. Thanks to that moving event, they decided to promise themselves to each other and be together for the rest of whatever life they had left, whether short or long. After spending time together as companions and confidants, and later living together for so many months as spouses, he knew better than anyone how his gatinho's mind and heart worked, so he could easily understand why he made the decision he did the day his life stopped. He himself had experienced firsthand what it was like to lose a child and would never blame him for what he did, a conclusion that took him some time to reach, but that didn't make his reality any less painful. He would never wish on anyone else what he was going through since the moment his world stopped spinning, not even on the one who had betrayed him like no one had before, a pain so excruciating and consuming that it burned from the depths of his being, slowly and persistently consuming his entire body, leaving only an exorbitant amount of love with no place to go and find refuge.
His soul bleeds and bleeds for a love that lost its home in the hands of the man he would continue loving for the rest of his life, the one who cared for and kept that love within his own soul, as if they were simply one, an exact reflection and in perfect sync. He felt incapable of dealing with the cruel reality in which he was immersed, the last dancer on the floor, destined to finish alone the waltz they had started together, living in memories of the past with every step taken.
like i said yesterday i would love to see this project in the future in a functioning working environment where we know everyone is treated right and paid well and with proper management and that the project has the funds to continue to prosper. so i hope with this qsmp 2 teaser that’s the goal and hopefully what they’re striving for. i do hope it takes like at least a year to release or even begin because i think everyone needs a breather right now as well as to figure everything out and how they feel so i hope they take their time and qsmp 2 isn’t something they feel they need to rush. 👍 those are my thoughts towards that. i still want to thank all the admins, the writers, the players, and everyone who gave us this first qsmp experience. i have so much newfound love for so many people and this project so Thank You!!!!
Spiderbit parents of 4, 3 sons and a daughter, spiderbit family of 6, living happily ever after in their castle, going on adventures together, picking flowers, doing paintings, constructing little buildings, solving puzzles and drinking coffee together every morning, living a life so filled with love and laughter, raising brave little kids with hearts of gold… I can’t pipipipipipipi 😭😭😭
I will be posting my headcanons, this is my coping mechanisms
My biggest hope for this horror event is a really fun final event and send off into a 3+ month vacation break reset so the team can actually get things figured out so the qsmp can come back better for everyone
Cherry: (reading from chat) "Tired of crying, Bad has been sad too" Yeah... Yeah, I know, I know. I mean, here's the thing, okay? I'm planning on releasing a little something soon. I got news, and I am— and it has changed on how I think, and I am personally thinking of maybe... Maybe I will release a statement, because I am very pissed at what I got. I will not say what I got, but all I can say is, I am not happy. I haven't been happy for a while, and I am very close to releasing a statement. I probably won't, because I didn't want to, but I am very close to just writing something up. But I won't, because... (frustrated laugh) Yeah, I... (sighs) It sucks. (laughs) I am mad, and... oh man. Like, I just want to tell you all what happened. But... bleh. (laughs)
I do kinda want to... make it something more official than say it on stream. (reads from chat) "What are we talking about?" Just QSMP stuff, just QSMP stuff and things I am currently pissed about, which I will not say on stream but I— I am not happy, that's all I'll say.
Because believe me when I say, I never wanted to leave, but. Hm.
Chat message: oh... we are here for you ok???
Cherry: Yeah, thank you. Let's just say I did not want to leave, and I was hopeful to an extent until a few days ago. So... yeah. It's been very hard, and like I said I don't want to get too much into it, I don't really like saying this— these things on stream. All I can say is I am tired, and, beh. But I don't want to make this like, a sad stream. I want my streams to be happy, and not too much of a thing. Bah, god.
(responding to supportive messages in chat) Ah, thank you guys.
Chat message: (heart emote) you guys deserve all the love and support and im glad you guys have shelter to enjoy <3
Cherry: (laughs softly) Yeah. We at least have Shelter, we at least have Shelter, that's something. But yeah, I don't— I don't want to spread negativity, that's not the kind of things I like to do. But... Ah, god. Like, you can support QSMP still if you want, but I cannot support it anymore with the things that have happened. Because I loved this project a lot, but with the recent things— oh, god, ah, I don't want to start crying again, eugh (laughs). But with the recent things that have happened, um, that you guys might know about soon, like I said I might post about it... But let's just say I do not feel appreciated by people who still work on the project. Especially with, um, the last message I got. Let's just say I was essentially fired. But also not really, it's kinda hard to say. But like I said, the last message I got was, um. Very disrespectful, in my opinion. Like I said, I am very pissed at it. So I might, um, post about it soon. I am currently talking, um, to Bagi about this, because like I said I am not happy with what happened. But yeah, I don't— bah. Bah. It sucks.
Chat message: i'm so sorry for that
Cherry: It's okay, don't worry about it. It's, I just... Yeah. Hi, Lea, hello! We are currently talking about QSMP stuff.
Chat message: she will totally support you (heart emote)
Cherry: Oh yeah, I know. I know Bagi will support me, don't worry. But I just, before I post anything on the internet, I want to talk to Bagi about this, because it obviously involves Bagi, more than it involves anyone else. So it's um, very important to me that she is involved in everything that's gonna happen from now on. But like I said, I have been essentially fired and I am tired. (laughs) And that fucking rhymed, that's so funny.
Like I said, I will post something soon, and... You guys might know about what happened then, I might post screenshots, I don't know yet. My original thing was to just, um, post a thanks to everyone, because... Ugh, (sniffs) I don't wanna cry again.
(choked up, after a long pause) Because— Okay. Listen. Here's my thing. I didn't want to make a statement, because... eugh. Uh, because there was nothing left to say, but like I said with the recent update, I am very much thinking about making a statement, but we will see.
Okay. But now, guys, we will... We will calm down, I will not cry anymore— Ugh. Because my streams are supposed to be nice. They are supposed to be comfortable and not me crying the whole time. (laughs) Yeah, I will think— I will think about what I want to do but I am ugh. Yeah. (laughs) Thank you guys.
Chat message: drink water people (and streamer)
Cherry: Yeah, drink water. Drink water, and... me too.
This narrative that's been spreading about how Cherry and Ryan left the project so that's why their characters didn't get a goodbye. They didn't. They never left. They were simply left aside. I'd even dare say that the only "wrong" thing they did was support every admin that came out with their experiences.
Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit
For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates
-
Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon
He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.
He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.
He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.
This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.
It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.
And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.
He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.
He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!
He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.
He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.
"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.
Neat.
"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."
He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."
"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"
He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."
The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"
The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.
He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.
"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."
"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."
"What the fuck is a soulmate?"
The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"
He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.
He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.
He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.
-
"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."
"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."
"You're a kid, too, you know."
"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."
"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"
"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."
"Wow, you're emo."
"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"
-
Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk
He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.
"Just give up already!" he shouts.
The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.
He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.
"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.
He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.
His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."
He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?
"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."
The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"
"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"
And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.
-
"How did you beat me!?"
"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."
"You are so annoying."
-
Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School
"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.
The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."
He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".
But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.
With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?
He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."
"Why do you wanna join the army?"
"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"
"Uh, the store?"
"What's that?"
The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"
They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.
He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?
"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.
He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.
"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."
-
"What about... Peter?"
"No."
"Miles."
"No."
"Miguel."
"No."
"Ben."
"No."
"You suck!"
-
Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids
"Call me Cell," he says.
The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.
"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.
Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.
"Exactly," he says.
The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"
"...Maybe, but-"
"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"
The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.
That would be ridiculous.
Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.
...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.
Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)
"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."
"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"
"Nah, I'm gonna break out."
He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)
"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.
"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."
"Then I can teach you how to drive."
Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."
"No way."
"Yes way!"
They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.
"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."
The kid smiles, and he does.
-
"My name is Roier."
"And my name is Cell."
"You already told me that, idiot."
"Oh, yeah."
-
Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia
Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.
If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.
The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!
"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.
In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.
Great.
His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.
He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.
"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"
Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.
"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"
Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"
He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.
"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."
"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"
"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."
Roier goes quiet.
Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."
"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."
"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."
"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."
Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.
Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.
The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.
Why can't real death be as soft?
-
"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"
"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."
-
Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony
Tonight, he's a horse.
Why not.
It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.
But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-
"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"
Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?
None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.
He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.
"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.
He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?
Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"
Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.
It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.
Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.
(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)
"You're red," Cell intelligently says.
"And you're green. You look like shit."
Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.
"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.
"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.
But Cell doesn't believe him at all.
-
"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."
"Our parents weren't very original."
"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."
"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"
"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."
"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."
"...You're right."
"I usually am."
-
Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval
Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.
Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.
But then the break happened.
And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.
But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.
Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.
He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.
Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.
He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.
(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.
He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)
It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.
Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.
"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"
He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.
God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.
But:
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.
And Cellbit's heart drops.
Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.
Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"
Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."
Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.
Cellbit can't breathe.
"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"
"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"
Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.
"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"
"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"
And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.
"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.
-
"Where are you? In the real world?"
"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."
"I'm in Brazil. What island?"
"Quesadilla Island, of course."
-
Reality: Day One
Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...
"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.
He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.
"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.
What a good friend.
Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"
Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?
He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.
At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.
"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"
He's cut off by a shout from outside.
Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"
Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...
Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.
Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...
Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.
(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)
"Finally," Cellbit breathes.
The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."
"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"
Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.
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