late night walks

YOO!!! i can't believe i started up this old acc again lol! tbh i had a lot of fun writing this, even if it is super dark and angsty. you can find this fic on my ao3 as well with the same title just look up "cloverv333" but anyway that's not the point, the reason i started up this wattpad acc is bc i wanted more ppl to enjoy my fics and i also realized a lot of ppl like reading on wattpad cus of the format so here we are!!

anyway enjoy!

- - -

"Why don't we play a game?"

The strange man dressed in a hot pink cape, rimmed with goldfish fabric and puffy fur-like purple rimming was hanging upside down from a streetlight.

"What are you doing here, Haavik?" Magnus said, almost calmly, with a hint of what someone could call anger, or almost annoyance.

The dark-haired boy was out late at night, investigating a certain red-head criminal that he had a lead on. But his sources turned out to be false, so another night was wasted in tiring efforts of searching. Magnus was just about ready to go to "bed," knowing that "bed" meant scouring the internet for more details, and "bed" was a cover up for his insomniac hours to not worry his sister.

Or a certain Pyrus brawler, that he somehow ran into continuously.

However, he wasn't expecting to find a yellow-eyed maniac, who was also one of the many criminals he was looking for, waiting for him.

"Let's go on a walk, I'll drop you off home! It isn't very safe for a young, weak, and small little boy like you to wander around nighttime like this."

Boy, even though they've only met a couple times, Haavik sure knew how to push his buttons.

At this point, Magnus is clutching tightly at his Bakugan behind his dark coat, hanging on his shoulders. He starts to walk, ready to attack at any moment. Even without communication, he can tell his Bakugan are too.

Haavik jumps down from the light and walks to Magnus. "Calm down, silly, the universe's greatest entertainer likes to entertain, not attack!" Magnus isn't sure what he means by that, he isn't sure what any of this means. The red-eyed boy is tired and feels like he could drop at any moment.

Of course, he isn't going to show that.

"Fine. Walk." He says bluntly, and they both start to stroll down the street.

As the both of them walk, Magnus can feel the eerie stare coming from the older man. He isn't sure what the smirk on his face is for, but he knows it isn't anything good.

Growing up in alleys, Magnus has always felt stares on his back. Stares of gang members, either willing to take him in, or rob him. Stares of homeless men, pitying the "poor children" that have to deal with the same pain. Stares of other street kids, and rich kids, all wondering how they can help. Stares of people he's met in jobs, whether they were co-workers or customers in some way, all curious and nosy about his past. Even stares of creepy old men, dreaming about the scarcely dressed, fair skinned, perfectly carved victim, not realizing how strong he actually is.