#❛they try to bend and break me by design so i am the nightmare that will haunt them in the night❜―「descent into obscurity」

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Hello it is I connection terminated the random Tumblr user!

Ideas had:

Directly after waking upafter being controlled by a bunch of psychotic clowns for like a year Michael went to Henry for help. Henry built him the end of skeleton shell so he could do stuff again But also made Michael internalized the idea that his life is basically useless unless he does vigilante stuff. Also the idea that it basically didn't matter at all what happened to Michael himself as long as he could still walk and punch...

"Nightguar" Michael Is introduced at a charity event hosted by William. (I think he definitely has a "oh you have dead parents I have dead children isn't that so sad" talk with Bruce at some point) Also Tim is there. Then suddenly as Williams giving this speech about "Look at these new robots I made they have a criminal detection system will protect Any children who walk into my establishments!". When Michael bursts in through the glass ceiling and tries to kidnap/maybe kill his dad. But because The crowd and Batman don't know the context it just looks like scary villain came down from the ceiling and is now trying to kill nice children's entertainer William Afton. Basically Michael runs after that and has a little rooftop fight with Tim. Throws down a flash Bang and then runs away.

All of the fun times can easily disguise as humans everyone except baby is just really bad at acting normal. It's also not something they need to do much-

Michael has a lot of hang-ups about being the only non-human member of the bat family for so long. Like everyone else can kind of take off the mask and do normal people stuff (mostly). But Mike physically can't do that.... He also happens to live in a city where most of the metahumans are villains and most of the heroes are normal human people. He kind of sticks out and sometimes gets mistaken for a villain (Kind of a loose adaptation of the whole looking like William hence people wanting to attack him thing for cannon)

Whatever kind of ghost or something like that Michael Charlie and most of the other cast from fnaf are Makes anyone who is in the presence of them feel really Uneasy.. This kind of fades the more time you spend around the person. (This is a head cannon I have for normal fnaf too I just think it'll be fun here)

Cassidy's powers are based on how much pain herself and the people around her are in. Either emotional or physical. she shares a vessel with Evan (because it's easier To say then crying child) His constant sadness is A Perfect power booster! If you're wondering what her abilities are she can trap people in nightmares, Teleconesis, Telepathy, Reality bending,

Thank you for listening to my ramblings here's a sketch of Cassidy! More of a little concept sketch than her final design LOL but I hope you like it

Ah! Hi! Sorry for taking so long to answer I was recovering from my sister’s second baby shower (I didn’t have a panic attack at this one yay) but it’s been a few weeks and now I’m ready to type! (mainly hearts and key smashs)

HENRYYYYYYY!!!!!! I know you have good intentions but you are giving my blorbo even more of a complex than he already has :(

*lights up the bat signal to let Bruce know to make sure he has the emergency adoption papers ready*

Of course William would have the fucking audacity I want to hit him (and I know that that man is so good an actor probably the only member of the batfamily to notice anything off would be Cass and ether she’s not settled enough to go to galas yet or literally hasn’t joined the family)

There is no doubt in my mind that he pulled out the “I am so sorry about the loss of your son Mr Wayne. There is no pain worse than the loss of a child. I would know” I want to break his nose

Is it really a robin teen vigilante romance if it doesn’t start with a misunderstanding and a fight?

Of course she’s a good actor, she loves playing pretend. kill me

I have no words for this one just tears

Tim: Hey guys! this is my boyfriend Michael.

*the entirety of Young Justice about to beat up a corpse Because he has bad vibes*

Tim making distance between them with his bo: Back! Back I say!

I love her so much💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 her little hat is everything to me

[calamxty-a]

                                  —(••÷[ @fallesto​ // 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘬𝘰𝘬𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘣𝘰]÷••)—

-------- Was it not cruel.

For Muzan to finally have what he sought. After all those years he had finally been given the chance, one that had been taken from him for so long, to finally be able to stand upon his own two feet, not only support himself, but to do so many other things as well.

To run, to climb, to fight, to kill. To walk the land, the land that he owned and do it without support and to be kind enough. Through the act of there passion for one another, to share it with her, to spill just a drop of what he had and share this blessing.

How cruel. It was to know. After countless years of never being together, for it all to come together, to spend all that time, with one another, to just let time blur and to become so lost, that all sense had been thrown to the side. To be comfortable with one another, to just enjoy the moment and make up.

For years wasted and lost. To finally be happy. To be who they once were. There roles had been lies. The one with a weak body was the stronger of the two deep down, and the one who the strong body, had the gentle heart that only wished to care for the other, through it all.

“Muzan-sama.” A slow approach, to kneel down at his side as he rested, the tray placed down. With several cups, with the blood he would crave, different lotions and remedies, to try and treat his injuries that refused to heal. “I have to go, further, but…”

Would this be enough. He was in so much pain. So much hurt and she could not lift it from him. So many sought him out now. A kind and generous lord. Who took the sick and made them stronger. Who sought out those…who were different, like them.

People who the world had forgot about, but he didn’t forget them, he offered them the same as he offered her, a chance to be someone they were meant to be and all he wished for in return, was for them to be his lord.

To know that the sun had done this to him. A mere mistake as they were finally going to go. After months of preparing, making this land his, ensuring he received his families wealth and titles, bringing more into the household to serve and change and to see.

Just how truly strong he was, that a sword, was not needed. A samurai was a relic compared to him. As she would take the wet cloth from the basin and place it onto his head, to pull down the sheets and rest a hand on his chest to stop him from moving as she opened his robes to look at the damage.

“A little, better than yesterday.” As her hands retreated, to take the lotion she had, followed his instructions to the letter to create it as she placed it upon her hands and move, shuffling her knees to be right at his side. “Don’t make this any harder than this has to be, I don’t like having to pin you down when you fight back…”

The pain... was intense. He assumed that when things were better.. they were. But instead, he’d taken too much of a gamble for daring to go into the sun again, hoping things had changed. But instead.. rather than healing, no matter how many he ate... his recovery was more than slow. His greed... was killing him. Or slowly killing him. This illness.. was something he’d brought on himself. But it was still awful and he hadn’t been ill for a very long time.

Half the time he didn’t realize who was tending to him. All he saw was a face with medicine--a face with a needle. A face like his father’s. Though they were never cruel--the person saying them was nice.. he never could believe it. He was so used to things being the other way--so he fought. He bit. He hated them. Sometimes Michikatsu visited him and he asked her to make them leave. To not bother him. He told her how to make a lily balm that soothed his skin when she applied it.

But those moments were few and far between... as lost to the pain as he was.

This time, though..

“Michikatsu-chan..?” His voice was a rasp. “Michikatsu-chan..?”

He reached for her. He felt wretched--as if he died and was brought back to life... or left to fry in a pan of oil... or as if he were nearly killed. All of which were apt to describe the type of pain he was in. And he hated it. He almost would rather take the choking.. well, maybe not. At least breathing was easy. It may have hurt, but he didn’t feel as if he had crushed glass in his lungs.

“Don’t leave me. Put the paste on-- but-- you-- have been doing this?” He looked at her as if he were betrayed. “Michikatsu-chan..”

But he understood why. He was too far gone, in too much pain and it was required. But he thought.. he thought she would-- there wasn’t really any other option. Only this. He sighed and closed his eyes. “Better to get it done and over with. But I expect to be held afterwards.” It was a grumble. An almost petulant pout. He knew that he couldn’t get better without Michikatsu--who at least did a good job at mixing the concoctions he’d managed to tell her when he was in the moment.

His experiments were good for something.

“Be careful.. this talk of pinning me down is going to give me ideas,” it was his idea of a joke. “And as a patient, I’m not supposed to have those.”

[dented-nado]

Blanket/cuddling with superbat if you want!

This turned into heavy angst that turned into comfort despite this being a fluff prompt I’m so sorry , but I hope the hurt/comfort pay off will be worth it.

 Cold.

 Batman had pushed himself through pain, refused to acknowledge how much yet another knife ripping through his suit, another bullet that would have to be dug out, really hurt. Deep down, there was a voice that screamed every time, that wanted to cry, yell, anything, but he buried it. The way the cold air whipped at his face as he fell from the tallest buildings into the city and landed in a glide. The way every new tragedy, every new loss would shake him to his core.

How much more before he broke? Even the heaviest, strongest, steel would bend under enough pressure.

What if he lost someone dear to him again?

Could he handle it? Could he go on?

He hated thinking about it.

Alone.

 That kind of heavy emotion couldn’t stay buried for long. Bruce had it explained to him many times. The way he lived and treated himself was much like a dormant volcano. It may stand tall and seem like any other mountain from an outsider perspective… but inside, the pressure was building, and the longer that pressure built with no way to vent or release that energy? The more dramatic and disastrous the inevitable eruption would be.

He knew it. He had seen such an eruption happen to those closest to him. Witnessed as all the repressed trauma, both physical and mental burst out after hiding behind a mask under the surface for so long, watched it rip a person apart, disrupt their life completely.

Deep down… he knew.

He knew he wasn’t dealing with what he needed to. He knew he knew, everyone had told him. He had told himself. He knew he was pouring the wrong kind of energy into Batman that had brought him a little too close to a place he didn’t want to go. He knew… eventually, his body, his mind, wouldn’t be able to physically take it anymore.

He’d already pushed himself so far… so so far.

But he made excuses. “Gotham needs me.” “Just one more night.” “Once this one case is solved…” “Maybe when (x) is older, they need me to be strong right now…”

Lost.

Clark… Clark was… different. While he certainly hadn’t opened up very quickly… It was clear he trusted Bruce to tell him about his deepest insecurities, fears… the feelings that he had that he’d never really belong anywhere.

Bruce would listen, he always did, knowing these words were ones Clark didn’t share with just anyone. But it always baffled him in some way… because to him, Clark was not only a man he admired… loved… cherished… but a man he also wished he could be more like in a lot of ways. Because at least Clark talked about it. He had wiped tears from Clark’s eyes when he finally opened up about the life he had been ripped away from during the Black Mercy incident.

But when he tried to relate., tried to say he knew the horrific feeling of loosing a child… understood what it was like to have the life you always wanted, the acceptance, and love you always wanted… the people you wanted to be in your life teased at you, convincing you they were real only to come to the horrific conclusion that it was all a lie…. He couldn’t say it. He’d find when he wanted to speak, it felt like all of it wanted to come out of once.

And too often it came when he really didn’t want to make it about him. Or even just… he panicked at the feeling of everything being ready to come pouring out and swallowing it back down into the pit of his stomach, into the crevices of his mind to be saved for nightmares. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Clark to tell him… god, he trusted that man more than anyone, and adored him so. SO. Much. But he was terrified what might begin to spill if even one thing shook loose. He was afraid speaking even one word would make him fall apart and not know how to pick the pieces back up… or if he even could.

 Help

There wasn’t anything particular different about that night. And yet… halfway through his patrol in the Batmobile, he found himself pulling over due to having trouble breathing. He felt dizzy, his mind had gone blank. He’d just fought and turned in a gunslinger hiding in an alley… it’s not as if he hadn’t done that so… so many times already… so why now?!

The fact he was starting to panic as his body and mind had reached a full on shut down only panicked him more. His hands were shaking as he tried to call Alfred, finding himself having trouble just trying to remember what the damn right button was. He’d helped design the damn thing himself and yet suddenly he couldn’t remember what was what. Finally he found it and felt his eyes grow wet.

“Alfred…” He heaved.

He knew Alfred was asking him what was wrong in alarm, but he barely heard anything, it felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton and his heart was pounding in his head.

“I… I need you to remotely … I can’t…. remember how I’m…”

I’m not okay.

He leaned against the back of the seat in relief as the Batmobile’s auto-navigation took over, he ripped off the cowl and covered his face with his hands. Despite no one able to see him, he still felt the need to cover up his expression, a mix of pure panic and despair as tears he hadn’t let out almost his whole life were bursting out like a damn breaking after a flood. He hated it. He hated feeling, he didn’t want to be this way…

The only comfort that made it through in the moment is hearing Alfred’s voice through the communicator.

“It’s going to be okay son… you’re going to be okay, you’ll be home soon.”

 When he stumbled out of the Batmobile he could barely stand on his own two feet, He was starting to feel lightheaded, like he may pass out from the breathing he’d been unable to calm down despite numerous attempts.

Alfred had rushed over, grabbed his shoulders, so gently encouraged Bruce to look his guardian in the face and breathe with him.

Bruce didn’t know how long it took but he finally finally was able to start catching his breathe again, and allowed himself to be gently taken to sit down. His father figure never letting go of his hand that had ended up ungloved at some point Bruce didn’t remember.

“I-I don’t know what happened or why I-!” Bruce rambled feeling like he had to explain.

“You don’t have to talk about it right now or try and explain it. We don’t need to solve anything right now… what we need is for you to give yourself time…”

“But I left in the middle of a patrol! How could I do that? What if something happens because my own mind betrayed me?!” Bruce insisted, feeling his chest heave again.

“Your mind is not betraying you. It’s doing exactly what it’s meant to, it’s reacting to high levels of stress that you’ve tried to put aside for years and it’s trying to keep you safe. There is nothing wrong with that. There are other people out there working to help save lives, you cannot continue to do this to your detriment.” Alfred replied firmly, his own worry that had been present for years over his son’s wellbeing clearly had been boiling under the surface as well.

Bruce knew he was right… but he wished he could somehow just be better, not have to face any of this…

Alfred took a deep breathe. “Bruce. You are a stubborn, stubborn man with a good heart and so much drive… but I know you also appreciate practicality, and the kind of heroism you do is incredible, but it is not practical. You need to put yourself first. I know you know that in principle, but you have to start letting the rest of us help you make the steps you need to take. I am so proud of you… but I’m worried.”

Bruce looked down at the ground, eyes feeling heavy again. “I know… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, not at all.” Alfred soothed, giving his boy a hug. “Just… for a little while, allow me to be a parent and help you re-learn habits to take care of yourself?” He asked with a slight teasing tone.

Bruce finally managed a huff of a laugh as he hugged him back. “I guess I need a little bit of that…” He conceded.

He still hated it. But he knew… deep down the path he had been on would lead him here eventually… but this was his chance to take a new path instead, now physically knowing he couldn’t brute force himself down the old path.

He stood slowly, wiping at his face as he let go of Alfred. “Hiding in bed for a while does sound nice.” He admitted.

“I’ll bring up some hot chocolate in a while if you’d like, perhaps an extra blanket?” Alfred offered.

Bruce sniffled, face feeling gross from all the panic and crying. “I’d… like that a lot actually… thank you..” He admitted.

He began stripping out of the batsuit, ready to go upstairs to collapse for a bit before pausing.

His first thought was not to bother him, Clark had been on a outer space mission…. But well… he may have already tried to check in at hearing Bruce’s heartbeat become irregular.

Maybe… maybe just this once…

“Alfred… could.. could you also call Clark for me? If … he’s around… I… um…”

“Of course… I’ll notify him immediately.”

“Thank you Alfred.”

Bruce finally went upstairs, finding his bed and collapsing onto it, only groaning as he realized he forgot to take his shoes off and change clothing.

 Warm

 Bruce had drunk his hot chocolate and buried himself in a cocoon under the blankets, curling his knees up to his chest and hugging them. He’d completely pulled all of the blankets from the edge of the bed to cover himself in a sort of mini-cave. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been buried under there, alone with his thoughts when he heard familiar large footsteps enter the room and the bed dip as Clark sat beside him.

 “Hey B.” Clark said so sweetly and softly

Bruce physically let out a sigh of relief at his presence. He couldn’t will himself to speak but he moved his hand and lifted the edge of the covers, unable to help a small smile as he saw Clark’s head tilting to look down at him like a giant puppy dog that had just heard a squeaky toy.

He wanted to say “I’m glad you’re here, I missed you.” But he was once again having trouble speaking, so instead he reached his hand out and slowly put it on top of Clark’s hand.

“Hi.” He said, realizing his voice sounded a little weak.

“How are you feeling?” Clark asked, taking Bruce’s hand tightly in his.

“Not good.” He mumbled honestly.

He felt Clark kiss his knuckles. Why was this man just a walking beefy bag of sugar???

“What do you need?” Clark asked quietly.

Bruce thought about it for a moment. He didn’t really know… but then…

“…get under here with me?” He mumbled, grateful Clark had super hearing because his voice was starting to go somewhere else.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Clark and his warmth wiggled under the covers with him. He was wearing a flannel shirt that Bruce had stolen quite a few times because it was unfairly soft and comforting. Clark poked the tip of Bruce’s nose with his own nose before moving up and kissing the Bat’s forehead.

Bruce then immediately put his arms around Clark and buried his head in the man’s chest. Yes… yes this was what he needed. Warmth… someone in the space he usually isolated himself in… He needed Clark by his side.

“I guess you want to know what happened.” Bruce said, voice muffled but once again feeling he had to explain himself.

“Not now… later… just relax B, you can tell me after you’ve had some time. I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“…okay…”

Clark was now running a soothing hand up and down his back. He was so massive, could seem to other so imposing and intimidating… but really, he was so gentle… so patient, so loving…

Bruce didn’t know how he got so lucky.

“I love you so damn much…” He could have sworn he thought to himself.

Clark hugged him a little tighter. “I love you too B, Always, no matter what.”

He felt himself about to cry and have a release of pent up emotion again, but this time he didn’t try to hold back and let himself fall into what his mind was trying to tell him he needed to do. This was what he needed to allow himself space to do. It was terrifying… but it was necessary.

Clark was here, Clark was holding him, and he wasn’t going anywhere. It was warmth in every form. He wasn’t alone anymore; he didn’t have to be… it could be different.

And once again Clark had gifted him with the very thing that Superman stood for, on a deep level that caught him as he landed in this spot where he could no longer push himself into pretending he wasn’t affected.

Hope.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 4 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)

Words: 2, 111

Warnigns: Mention of panic attack and child abuse.

Masterlist

Chapter 3  Chapter 5

"First try,” says Tony. He has cables running through his body that connect to buttons that he holds in his hands. Lily sits down on a bench. “Ten percent.”

Tony shoots off towards one of the walls behind him. Lily is startled on the bench, but she calms down when she hears Tony's complaints. She laughs when she sees one of the helpers spray him with the fire extinguisher.

"Don't laugh," Tony says and she covers her mouth, but keeps laughing.

"Are you okay?”

"I will be.”

While Tony continues with the design of the armor, Lily follows closely, thinking well about the next question, after all she only has twenty per day. From time to time, Tony explains the next step to her in detail and although he doesn't think she can understand, he can see she’s determined to know more. He even lets her use the holograms so that she can see the options for each function of some parts of the armor.

After several hours, Tony arms part of his right arm with one of the blasters. Without noticing it, Pepper enters the workshop with a small box, a cup with coffee and another with chocolate.

The redhead frowns when she sees her boss.

“I thought you would no longer build weapons. It's not good that Lily’s here,” She hands the chocolate to Lily. She leaves the rest on a desk. "By the way. Obadiah is waiting upstairs…”

“It’s not a weapon. This is a flight stabilizer. Completely harmless— and you said I should take care of her. So far we haven't had any problems,” He says, pulling out the frame. He presses a button and again is thrown backwards. The little girl can't help but laugh again. "I didn’t expect that.”

Pepper sighs and looks at the girl.

"Don't you want to do something else?”

"This is fun,”

Pepper nods and goes back to the first floor of the house.

Tony gets up and sets some things up.

"Wait for me here,” he tells her and leaves the workshop.

But since Lily now also has a door code -with the screen at her height- she doesn’t think twice to follow him, only that she decides to hide behind a wall.

A piano is played for a few minutes, until the adults begin to speak. Lily only pays enough attention to know that they are talking about Tony's company and someone brought pizza from New York.

“Let the engineers analyze that. You know, write up some specs..”

Tony repeatedly refuses.

"Okay, okay, I won't discuss this any more," says the man. "But I can't help but feel like they are watching us.”

Uh-oh. Lily tries to go down another step, but Tony's voice stops her.

“He's fine, kid. You can come out.”

She obeys. She walks slowly until she reaches Tony's side. Obadiah sighs.

"I thought you were going to take care of this.”

"I'm doing it. She's mine.”

“Very noble of you, but if someone finds out… The board would have another reason to kick you out, Tony.”

"What does she have to do with the board?”

"They want to declare you with post traumatic stress and with it, they could say that you need time with your daughter,” Tony doesn’t respond, he looks away. Obadiah nods and bends down to speak to Lily. "I'm Obadiah, your father's friend, but you can call me Obie,” he smiles tightly.

Unlike Tony's other friends. Lily has a bad feeling about Obadiah and somehow she thinks she has seen him before, but she doesn't know why.

“She's very cute, what is her name?”

"Lily. You're done?" says Tony fed up with the conversation.

Obadiah stands up and looks at Tony.

“I don't want to be the enemy and you know it. I just want to help you. In every way, Tony,” He says referring to both the reactor that Stark has in his chest and the girl.

"Yes, good. They both stay with me.”

"Okay, so this stays with me,” answers Obadiah taking the pizza box. "Well, you can have a piece,” Tony obeys and heads back towards the stairs. Obadiah lowers the box. "You can have a piece too, darling."

Lily takes one, but something about the movement brings out something on her neck that Obadiah immediately recognizes. After she takes the pizza, he slams the box shut. His body tenses and he observes the girl in detail. She looks at him confused.

"Are you coming, Flower?" shouts Tony from below. Lily reacts and runs towards the stairs.

Pepper doesn't know which part she is more surprised with, Obadiah's reaction to the girl or that Tony Stark already has a little nickname towards Lily. A very cute one.

She sighs hoping none of this ends badly.

***

"Day eleven, test thirty-seven. Configuration two point zero,” says Tony towards the camera. Lily watches him from her place behind the robot. “For lack of a better option. Dummy is still on fire safety,” He says looking at the robot near him. “If you douse me again, and I'm not on fire. I'm donating you to a city college.”

"That was not nice, he just wants to help,” the girl complains.

“It can also help in a university,” He replies. “All right, nice an easy. Seriously, just gonna start off with one percent thrust capacity. In three, two, one,” This time it works and stays in the air for a few minutes. "That was good.”

"At least you didn't crash.”

"Thanks, kid.”

"Okay, let's go up to two point five,” He turns it back on. Now the result is better. Tony clumsily hovers around his workshop. Lily looks at him and moves when the man approaches her. She winces when Tony flies over his cars. "Yeah, I can fly.”

"That was awesome!" She screams.

If Tony's ego was too high, he is now overcome by having a little cheerleader next to him.

"Let's do it right.”

Tony returns to the center of the workshop and little by little, with the help of some robots, they are putting together a golden armor. Lily sees every detail when Tony reviews each part.

"Let's make a flight attempt.”

J.A.R.V.I.S tries to warn him of the consequences of doing so, but the man doesn't listen.

"Wait, where are you going?" Lily asks.

“I'll be back in a few minutes. If Pepper asks, tell her it will take hours.”

“But-"

"See you, kid.”

The armor starts and leaves the workshop. She sighs and sits in one of the chairs in front of a desk. She looks around her and smiles when she comes up with something.

"I'm Tony Stark,” She says in a deep voice. "I have a lot of money and a lot of toys, but I won't let you touch them, Lily!”

She turns in the chair until she sees the box that Pepper had brought days before. She bites her lower lip and tries to break only a little of the wrap, at the bottom, but by a wrong move, she breaks more. All she can see is a crystal and something shiny inside of it.

She sets it aside, putting a few things in front of it so that the opening is barely noticeable. She knows it is not possible, but that will be a problem later.

She keeps seeing things in Tony's workshop. She stops when she sees several framed photos. One is Tony when he was a child along with his parents. Lily smiles, seeing that her grandfather, in that photo also has a mustache just like Tony now.

Another photo catches her eye. It's Tony with the man she met a few days ago, Obadiah. She makes a face remembering the bad feeling she had with that man.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a great crash, followed by two more, until the armor falls directly on a blue car. She walks over to see if Tony is okay.

"How was your flight?"

He sighs.

"It can be better.”

***

"Hey, Kid,” says Tony in front of a desk.

"Yes?"

"Did you try to open this?" He says pointing to the box.

“No," she lies.

“Hmm," Tony rolls his eyes and removes the wrap completely. He smiles at the words 'Proof that Tony Stark has a heart', his old reactor, his salvation in that difficult moment.

“Tony," says Lily approaching.

“What?"

"The man who came a few days ago…”

"Obie?" She nods. "What's wrong with him?”

"I don't like him.”

Tony frowns. "Why?"

"I don’t know.”

He rolls his eyes. He expected a better explanation than that.

"No, wait,” says Lily when she sees Tony wanting to get up. "I think I've seen him before!”

“Okay, you have my attention. Explain yourself.”

Lily looks at him nervously. She sighs.

“It's like I've seen him before, but I don't know from where. I don't like him and he acted strange when you left.”

"That makes no sense.”

"I know,” she answers. "But, when I saw it, I felt like he…” she stops a little, thinking well what she wants to say. Tony is officially her father, she doesn't know if the paperwork is that important or if they already did, but he already accepted it. Maybe it's time to tell him. "Sometimes I have nightmares.”

"As everyone.”

“Hey, don't interrupt me. You don't like it when I do it,” she says annoyed. Tony raises his eyebrows at her. "Those nightmares, sometimes they’re the same, it’s very strange and they feel real, that’s what I felt when the man saw me.”

Tony knows that Lily is trying to say more.

"What do you see in nightmares?"

"It's not what happens, it's how I feel. My mom, she told me that it's normal for me to feel this way, but it doesn't just happen when I have nightmares. Sometimes, I feel a… tingling, in my hands.”

The girl takes his hands, opens them palms up and with her nails makes curved lines, from the wrists to the tips of her fingers.

“This is how it feels and when I'm upset or I think someone wants to hurt me, I feel that. Not just from dreams,” Her breath shakes. “That is not normal, that does not happen to other people and I am afraid that it is something bad. Once— a— once…”

"Hey, hey,” Tony takes her by the shoulders. “Breathe. Breathe with me, Lily,” She watches him with teary eyes and obeys.

“Once,” she continues in a cracking voice. “Once, I felt the tickle and— My mom was yelling at me. I don't remember why, but she then she tried to grab my arm. The tickle went up and she removed her hand, very quickly,” She wipes a tear from her cheek. “Her hand was red and had blisters…”

"She must have grabbed something else before she touched you,” Tony says trying to find an explanation.

“No, she was on the couch and then she came over. I hurt her.”

The man sighs and makes a face. He extends his arms and surrounds the girl. She hides her face on his chest.

"I'm afraid of hurting someone.”

"You won’t do it. We’ll find out what happens.”

It's the only thing he can think of to say. He doesn't know if the girl is lying, he ignores the voice telling him that someone doesn't have a panic attack from a lie, but he doesn't know what else to do, at least for now.

***

After a few hours, Tony is surrounded by various screens and computers, making the necessary adjustments to the armor, while Lily watches TV— actually she just gets distracted by changing channels– only until she reaches a news channel, Tony asks her to quit.

A charity event in his name and he wasn't invited, nobody expects Tony Stark there, so he sees it as a perfect opportunity to surprise everyone.

“Hey, Kid,” He says to Lily making a sign for her to come closer. She obeys. "What you think?" He shows her the final design of the armor. "I feel like something’s missing.”

She tilts her head. "Maybe another color— Red!”

Tony smiles and looks sideways at the metallic red of one of his cars.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, add a metallic red,” He picks up a watch. "I have to go. I'll tell Happy to take care of you,” He says looking at the girl.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to an event, don't wait up for me," He says, leaving the workshop.

She shrugs and heads for the stairs. She thinks about everything she’ll tell Happy about the last days of work.

Taglist:

@stardusthigh   @sarcasticallywitty15 @silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody  @aylauwuuniverse @tyb1 @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara   @poetryislife0715    @21bruhs​

[captainkurosolaire]

The Enforcer

 Lalafell’s decoratively made a resolution coming together in their federation. Their feminine representative, “We’ll do it. Seems like fun, we enjoy high-stakes.” The nerdiest one of them, “By our calculations, the succession of rates is significantly increased with humoring this blueprint of yours.” The more glamoured and fabulous hat worn one pouted, “Sorry yo, in pounding you earlier dood.” Another echoed, “We were just kidding on blowing you up…” the one who often tells lies spoke. Lastly, their appointed central leader, Jackal who had some characteristics of Captain himself scooted in, “Where do we begin?”, he’d crook ahead, “Shelah, hand em a linkpearl fer me from my talisman.” Since his arms still couldn’t bend and were in their cast she had to be the aide. “Your priorities should b’ in getting a new flag of your old design, say you’re renovating the design to your former employers, one-day, gradually after you prove t’ them you’re earning the same shares, you can tell them about th’ shift in leadership. Say the other got executed finally by Maelstrom, it’s something believable. They’ll keep their normal frustrations level in-tact. Fer the Maelstrom sake do the opposite for the disappearance of their ‘resource’ they’ll become irritated equally. Though long as you’ve shown the same results and have a steady grasp you’ll pull it off. Least long enough until I rebuild my crew. Then, I’ll provide coverage, we’ll go after the Scourges who pose a threat, but I need to gain allies and treaties, each Scourge could bring many battles and wars... Warning, whatever you do never, ever, cross or short-change the Crew named OMONGA. They’re yer prime clients to see pleased.” Each of them wondered just what sort of devils were among that Crew to be specifically singled out. “Ay ay!” They’d all enact before solidifying as a unit and properly get acquitted to their ship and the disposal of maintenance they’d need to clean. Shelah worded between him, “Amazing. But Cap’n do you think that’ll work?” He’d chortle, “No chance. We’re on borrowed time. Someone will compromise or make an error. Though I’ll push harder… Unless.” Klethera stepping in, he didn’t forget about the deal about turning himself in firstly, it was possible none of this would matter anyway. Shelah realizing this should be between them gave her parting, “I’ll get the little ones to the Capital safely. I’m not Wanted or injured too badly, I’ve had time to recuperate my injuries. There’s a Chocobo stable not far.” She’d bow slightly before Klethera continuing to carry her efficiently in trying to honor her Captain who similarly saved her with his Navigator. Giving reassurance and looking after people’s living seemed to be his worst habit. Klethera recognized his crewmate was someone who wouldn’t be suspected at all how she envisioned his ranks or members. “I’ve decided.” She’d grumble between her teeth, “You’re not nearly as terrible initially, I still don’t agree with you pirates. Especially don’t forgive your actions fully either. Though.” She’d remain unfinished, her sentence while looking over the scenic ebb and flow waves. The parting turtle-vessel leaving their view. “I’ll make you a deal, let me in this... your Crew. I won’t arrest you temporarily..” Kuro abruptly and erupted in a bellowing cackle, “O’ is that how it works huh? It’s certainly admirable. Who’s to say I wasn’t them? Or am I not? I’ve thrown people n’ chains, decided and jailed them too. I’m not innocent. I’ve pledged myself t’ the seas and a cause... and I won’t let those try conquering it and think they own it or decide massively they can. I reshape and build things that are broken often seen damaged past repair, tainted or forgotten, I take what people neglect and tell it a value, steal and give it refugee to a sanctuary, show them the potential of a hand’s properly callous for appraisal, but my words matter not they’re cheap spew and sometimes, my palms can’t adequately contain certainty those I cherish th’ most… Lost things I have utterly loved and they killed themselves for me. Slain me from mind to save themselves.” She’d punch him in the rib, “Dummy. That’s why I want in. You can’t expect yourself to always be accounted for your actions. When you cross the line, I’ll beat you back in line. And when I… admitting, go overboard in my justice, I need you to do what you just did. Help me find clarity. You want to clean these polluted seas just as bad as anyone. I don’t intend to let those incapable of fending for themselves to be damned. You talk in past-tense, I think you can change this dooming aura, assuming your resolve never goes misplaced.” Her words echoed his consciousness turning in facing.

“We call that role on a crew, The Enforcer, but I couldn’t agree further. Though I want the condition, if I break the line. You do as I asked, you bring the bullet t’ my skull, and you get out of this. We can defeat some of the worse looming nightmares once we’re ready to port from these shadows and reclaim our taken fortunes and acquire the relics of the loss. Fer now I need to remain a ghastly specter of once. You’ll oversee interrogation and throwing vile n’ our cozy brigs and discipline the crew keeping us in check and aligned, even me. My First Crew-Mate is similar too. I have no purpose fer a crew filled ov’ strictly agreein’ nancies. Mutiny me if I fail expectations.” Strictly he’d apply shackles on himself and pressure, the more stress a leader had, the better they were stable and performed effectively in keeping lives in-tact. Lacking this resolve or willpower to constantly want a Captain who didn’t take the challenge, was a sign of someone who’d bring death to all those who were behind that supposed leader that was his learning of age. Inside this particular cursed pirate, was a budded root, a nourishing plant which grew with each new addition of a springing face of his worldly cherished. Those blooming petals would shortly under weathered conditions would open themselves and my... a marveling ferocious beauty laid under all those drenches if those storms could be navigated. She’d shake even his request at an awareness of this fact of his oddity. So-far she was wrong about many avenues of him and kept guessing despite her earrings preventing deceit. She had this hope about him too. Despite neither of them would ever have admittance of it cause their pride, in this short-encountering of events they made a pact of poetic uniqueness. The estranged daughter and a no-good father had a path to deliver their proving. 

           (Previous)  — / References /  —   ♫ — (Next Page)  

[mbti-notes]

Hi mbti-notes, I hope you're doing well. I am an INFP young black American and the past few weeks have been such a nightmare. I obviously support the protests that have been taking place but I feel so hopeless at the same time. I've never been a fan of this country but the past few weeks have at least provided me with more clarity and conviction that there is nothing to be salvaged here. I have a friend who's also black but lives in europe and even we're at a loss for what to say to each (con't)

[con’t: other. I feel so angry and disgusted. I remember learning that as a part of anti-US propaganda during the Cold War, they’d show how black people have been treated in America and be like “this is how they treat their own people”. I’m not saying I support the USSR of course but it surprised me to hear that in the eyes of other countries, we’re as American as anyone else. It never felt that way. People can’t even protest police brutality without being faced with more police brutality. I’ve donated to bail funds, signed petitions, contacted my representatives about a piece of legislation that would help combat the issue of missing and murdered indigenous women but...I think the closest thing there is to a solution is for another Great Migration but this time, we just leave America. I feel bad saying that because obviously so many people don’t have the means to do so and it shouldn’t have to come to this but nobody wants us here. If the black panthers...]

It seems that tumblr disappeared the rest of your message, but I've read enough to detect some problematic thinking. It’s not about whether you’re “wanted”, it’s about the fact that you have a right to exist and be treated as human, equal to every other human under the law. It is beyond the scope of this blog to address politics and write political commentary. This blog primarily addresses individuals and how they cope with their circumstances. I won’t be able to understand all the experiences that you’ve had as a black American given such a short message from you. All I can do is bring to light your attitude and beliefs and how they affect your ability to cope and thrive in life. 

Developmentally, irrational pessimism is always something that INFPs should be vigilant about due to Fi-Si loop and the struggle to develop Ne big-picture thinking skills. There is certainly lots of injustice in the world, but this doesn't mean that there isn't also a lot of good in the world. There are many good people out there doing good things, otherwise, you’d have nothing to donate money to. There are also a lot of decent people who understand that racism is a big problem but don’t know what to do about it. Yet your mind is only ever trained on the pain and suffering - this indicates Fi extremes. I have a longstanding habit of observing how different people respond to challenges in life. For example, I see some black Americans out there protesting, some are educating people, some are attacking people, some are sowing anarchy, some are running for office, some are giving up, some are hiding, some are writing, some are leading legislative initiatives. Black Americans as a group share the burden of racism, but each person handles it in their own way. What is your response and why?

You focus on the problems, drowning in negative feelings, and perhaps even look for evidence to reinforce the belief that everything is irredeemable (misuse of Si), which means that you lack a big picture perspective. For your own well-being, perhaps you need to make wiser decisions about how you spend your time, where you focus your energy, and with whom you associate. Otherwise, you are only ever a victim of circumstance, bending and breaking with every gust of wind. If there are things/people in your life that exacerbate your tendency to be negative, it's up to you to adjust your decision making so that you are not always surrounded by the negative. Just as you keep physically healthy by not eating crap food, you should keep mentally healthy by not feeding yourself a constant diet of emotional negativity. For example, people tend to be much more pessimistic when they spend too much time on social media or consuming political commentary that is designed to be emotionally provocative. Perhaps there are healthier ways to spend your time. Whether you followed this or that tweet is of little significance if it only ends up with you feeling miserable.

With respect to moving: There are a variety of methods to measure the health and well-being of a society, and it's natural to think about how your country stacks up against others. Different societies have their own character and excel at different things. However, it's important to remember that there is no society without problems. Some countries are better at hiding their problems than others. Europe is no paradise, as there have been long running problems with colonialist and xenophobic attitudes. American society tends to be very extraverted and media driven, so its problems are often hanging out there for all to see, which might make them seem a lot worse than they really are.

Each aspect of society, whether you think it is positive or negative, is the result of a trade-off. For example, people often respect the U.S. for its staunch commitment to free speech, which allows for marginalized voices to be heard. But the trade-off is that you may get a more noisy and toxic social environment, as all voices get elevated and amplified. The question for you, as an individual, is whether the trade-offs are worth it for the kind of life that you would like to live. With the example of free speech, I’d rather have free speech, so I’m willing to tolerate all the noise and accept it as the cost of doing business. Nobody can make these sorts of judgments for you, as you are the best person to decide what's best for you. Thus, I'm not sure what to tell you. I only remind people that the decision making process works best when you give proper consideration to EVERY side of an issue, as opposed to being myopic, extreme, or one-sided.

Right now, there is a lot of frustration and anger floating around. Being so emotional basically means being myopic, as you are hyperfocused on the things that make you sad or angry. This will blind you to everything else. When you lose sight of the positive, Ne might start to believe that the grass is greener elsewhere. There's no denying that the problem of racism against black people runs very deep in American society, all the way back to the founding of the nation on the backs of slaves. But are you denying that progress has been made?

When people use the word "progress" in relation to history, they mainly refer to how things changed for the better. I think people too often forget that progress almost always comes at a steep COST. Society doesn’t change because people miraculously get “enlightened” en mass. No. People suffer, things get mangled, blood is shed, and there is a period of intense pain and sacrifice - these details tend to get glossed over in history classes as hindsight and nostalgia take over. Creation and destruction are two sides of the same coin. Thinking that you can create something new and better without destroying what is old and obsolete is wishful thinking. To be clear, I'm not advocating destruction; I'm only saying that, in reality, you cannot escape destruction, as it is a necessary stage in the process of creation. If you are unlucky, you get to live during "interesting" times. But, viewed from a bigger perspective, it also means that you get to live during a time when you have a chance to make a difference and what you do matters. From this perspective, being alive right now is better than living during a time of being forced into accepting the status quo, is it not?

What is society other than the people comprising it? Societal problems are analogous to psychological problems in that they are deep-seated, long-running, festering, recurring, and difficult to resolve. I believe that there is a qualitative shift in attitude right now. It doesn't mean that racism will suddenly get fixed once and for all, but I've not seen such widespread attention and commitment to the problem in a long time. It actually gives me hope. I have older friends who've remarked that they suddenly feel transported back to the unrest of the 1960s. IMO, it means that another period of progress is on the horizon, but it also means that a time of intense turmoil is here. It seems that you focus on the turmoil and miss seeing the openings and opportunities for change.

Another thing that INFPs should always be vigilant about is a shaky relationship to reality and/or being unable to tackle problems in a realistic way (i.e. poor Ne and Te development). Reality contains everything, including the good and the bad, so it’s no use to try to pretend that one or the other doesn’t exist. You will always make better decisions by taking BOTH the good and the bad into consideration. Some INFPs get stuck in trying to wish away the bad, and some drown in the bad and disconnect from everything good. 

Just as a child picks up a mix of psychological issues from their parents, as a member of society, your identity is forged through your relationship to your society's (problematic) history. I don't see how a "great migration" is any solution. Don’t forget that technology has made our world significantly smaller, so it’s a lot harder to distance from these problems. As long as you carry the scars of your home, no matter where you go, unresolved pain will continue to haunt you and hurt you. There is historical evidence that utopian thinking never leads to anything resembling a utopia. Utopian thinking is what people resort to when they are incapable of confronting the problems of reality. When it comes to human psychology, there is no way to wipe the slate completely clean without confronting and addressing the mistakes and sins of the past - this is what social unrest is meant to achieve. To believe that you can/should “start from scratch” is often a sign of Te grip in INFPs, as they want to violently wipe out the accumulated burdens of Si loop. 

Perhaps there are benefits for you, as an individual, to move away, as you might find happiness in a different sort of life. But what happens when the advocates give up and walk off? At the societal level, good people moving away only leaves the bad actors to wreak havoc on the poor and innocent. Certainly, some individuals do move away and successfully build a better life for themselves. However, some people move away only to discover that they miss home dearly, and they end up roaming aimlessly, lonely, miserable, bitter, or disappointed. What separates the two groups? You will find a better life when you know exactly what you're looking for and you're realistic about whether the new place will meet those terms and conditions. You will NOT find a better life if you're merely running away from unhappiness, fueled by wishful thinking that the grass is greener "anywhere but here". It's up to you to be honest about what's happening with you.

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 2

(This chapter has been rewritten/ edited since original post)

General Notice: I’m trying to get more works out during this time that is rough for all of us. That being said I am trying to keep it’s quality up.

This is technically a prequel to Fallen Angel (Work in progress), however it can be read as a stand alone series.

Summary:

If your reading as a stand alone: A witch heads back to Miss Robichaux's 20 years after she left in hopes of being a teacher there. The only problem is she hasn’t aged a day.

If your from Fallen Angel: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative.

I’m trying something with this and I’m not sure how it’s going to work so any feedback will be appreciated whether through comments, or anon asks. I did something similar in my Gone and left your world series were it had ~~~ in it and it either jumped, went to a flashback or dream. I did that here and it’s for the past/dream. 

This was originally going to be three different small chapters but wanted to reduce the number of chapters and decided to explain stuff I couldn’t through the ‘present’ basically context and junk. 

as these parts are split up I can make a post where there all together and link it here if anyone wants. 

Also they are so many parallels from my other series and some weren’t intentional.

Warnings: Slight smut, nightmare, murder and all that good stuff. (Everything is tame)

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4(will be added when done)

She gave you the job without a second thought, thrilled to have her friend back in her life. This time around, it was different. The way she interacted with you, there was more behind every touch, every word she said. You had danced around your feelings for her from the second you fell for her. You didn't know you were gay; you had never liked anyone before and haven't since. Maybe you weren't. Maybe it was just her. She was the only thing your heart desired. No one else seemed appealing. She was straight, she got married to a man and a vile man at that. No one liked him in Cordelia's close circle, but you were all nice for her sake. However, her mother was always vocal about how he detested the man. She wasn't the hugest fan of you either, but you had something worth wide in her eyes, power.

You weren't one to force your feelings upon people, you didn't want to burden her with the knowledge that her long-time best friend was in love with her. Knowing how she was back then; she would blame herself for you falling for her. You didn't want that. Keeping it a secret was better.

She asked you about your time away, but you were reluctant to tell. It was a blur, nothing notable ever happened or at least that's what you told her. "I spent most of your time at your flat." And some ramblings on about jobs so she didn't grow concerned.

You were offered a job here a few years back by her mother about the time Cordelia was blinded. You jumped at the opportunity but as you went to take the job, the balance of the world shifted. Something dark was living on our earth and growing with power. You tasked yourself with discovering it before it discovered your fellow witches or any other good on the planet.

Something told you that the answer to some of your woes would be found with the source of power. The self-appointment job was a failure and you found yourself at the place you ditched it for.

It had been a couple of weeks since you got hired. You sat cross-legged in Cordelia's room on the love seat marking some of the girls' work. Papers scattered on the ground and the couch you had been sleeping on. Cordelia had yet to give you a bedroom.

"Are you sure you're comfortable on the love seat? Wouldn't you prefer sleeping on the bed?" She would say. Her desire for you to join her on the bed masked in such a way that your tired brain couldn't register as her quietly begging for you to join her. In your head, she was still married. She had mentioned multiple times that her and her ex broke up but a month or two doesn't rewrite years in your mind.

You had finished your marking an hour ago and had moved onto Zoe's to ease her workload. She managed to get behind, having double the classes you had that day as well as having to plan her work next week. You thought it was a nice thing to do. While, you were trying to distract your brain. Stopping working forced you to think and that hadn't gone well for you in the past. Countless nights spent in denial, regretting what could have been if only you had spoken up. Stayed away from the school. Ignored your mother's letter. Those thoughts were less common now. Instead, your mind flooded with thoughts of what was wrong with your body. Why your growth had remained preserved at the ripe age of 18- if that.

You threw another log on the fire before heading back to the marking. You focused on the flames using your pyrokinesis to refuel the fire. You smiled at a successful job done. Another hour passed and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Strong hands gripped your shoulders.

"You're still up Y/N/N?" You looked over your shoulder to face Cordelia. "It's nearly 3."

You checked your watch. She was right, you didn't notice the time pass.

"I'm marking-"

"Zoe's work. I know, she informed me." Cordelia gathered some of the work on the seat moving it to the floor.

"Don't put them near the unmarked ones," you call out as she does so. She moved them instantly away from the unmarked ones. Taking the seat next to you, she removed the paper and pen from your hands and set it with the other papers. "Delia?"

She shushed you, pulling you closer to her. The two of you stared at the fireplace, the crackling of fire was the only sound in the room. The students were long asleep as the two of you should have been. She shuffled even closer to you. She eased your head into her shoulder, her hand finding it's place in on your head, playing with your locks.

"I appreciate that you offered to help Zoe with her work, but you do need a break too-"

"I get breaks-"

"That don't involve studying magic?" Okay maybe not. She knew you too well. Magic was your life, what else do you need? "You barely get any proper sleep. You sleep on this uncomfortable chair which is too small for you to sleep on."

"It's fine-"

"No, it's not. You're sleeping on my bed tonight. No question."

"Where will you sleep?"

"On my bed."

"But-"

"It's big enough for the two of us and it's not the first time we've shared a bed." You blushed thinking back on the few times you've shared a bed with her. Cordelia chuckled at your reaction. "You're too cute." You got redder. You begged her to stop but she kept going. She eventually ended it when you got too loud but not before she attacked you with tickles. You both were dying of laughter, you were surprised no one came to see what was going on. "Okay, bedtime." She patted your leg before rising from her spot. She laid a handout for you to take it. You yawned. "Come on captain sleepy."

"That was stupid."

"Shut up."

You yawned again, "A goodnight's sleep does sound nice and your bed is really soft."

Cordelia led you into her wardrobe, forcing you to rest on an ottoman while she retrieved pyjamas for you. She came back to you half asleep propped up against the wall. She chuckled not wanting to wake you up. She ended up shaking you awake lightly, handing you the a long sleeve shirt and pants. Without complaint, you changed into the clothes as she got herself ready for bed.

Once tucked comfortably into her bed, you wiggled about to get comfortable. She hopped in beside you, pulling you closer to her before she covered herself in her sheets. You stilled and cleared your mind for a peaceful slumber. As the night progressed you found yourself growing closer to the warm body beside you.

~~~

"Catch her! Stop Y/N!" People shouted as you ran through people's heaven's gate crashing and accidentally destroying them in the process. You jumped from room to room, hiding amongst people's belongings to lose the guards chasing you.

The group zoomed past. You sighed before stepping out of your hideaway. The air was musky, you got the sense you weren't home anymore. Your powers were unhinged, unable to control them was becoming more dangerous than ever. Accidentally transmuting into an unknown location was never good.

You've stepped into the devil's den.

You wandered, getting your bearings. It was all too new to you, how where you expected to follow along?

You stumbled into him, the man you were designed after.

~~~

You screamed, bolting upright in the bed. Your legs bend and move closer to your chest. The think sheets flopped off the top part of your body, pooling at your lap. Your upper torso and head drenched in a layer of sweat. Your hands flew to her head, covering your eyes from the monstrosity you saw in your dream.

The light on the bedside table closest to Cordelia switched on.

It wasn't the first time Cordelia had woken from someone having night terrors. In a school with a wide range of ages, it was more common than you'd think. The younger girls had them the most, as you would expect. Their minds were more active but even the older ones had them from time to time. Some of the girls were unfortunately exposed to trauma while growing up, being unaccepted for who they were as a witch. What she didn't expect was for the reaction to be so jarring. The sudden snap from unconsciousness to conscious was difficult for her body to handle. She needed a second to wrap her brain around the situation which was something she didn't want to do.

"Y/N, look at me."

You shook your head, beginning to rock back and forth. You mumbled out incoherently, describing the beast you saw. It was horrifying.

She asked if she could touch you when you didn't respond she slowly reached out until she made contact. You didn't flinch away (which she took as a good sign) nor did you move towards her touch. Ever so gently, she eased your hands away from your face, revealing your blotchy face and irritated eyes.

Your eyes flickered open, taking in the room around you. The face was gone. Feeling the weight of a hand on your shoulder, you turned Cordelia.

The door opened revealing three girls checking in on their headmistress and her roommate. They heard screams and wanted to make sure nothing bad happened.

"What happened?", "Is everything alright?" the girls asked.

"Nightmare. Can one of you head to the bathroom and run a hot bath?" Mallory sneaked past to fulfil the request. Delicately, Cordelia moved you closer to her. If there was any sign of apprehension, she would stop and resume once you were comfortable. "Shh, everything's okay. You are safe. Nothing's going to hurt you."

You sobbed, occasionally choking while trying to get a breath in.

"I-I s-saw evil," you stuttered out. "H-he greet-ed 'e w-ith o-open-"

What scared you the most was how you felt when gazing at evil itself. There was a void in your soul and bearing witness to the being began the healing process. The wound like while was tender but the pain that came along with it was gone.

"Shh. Take a moment to catch your breath."

"I-I was in hell-"

"It must have been terrifying but your back now, with us," Cordelia said. You knew wasn't trying to be condescending but you felt like she was.

Mallory notified Cordelia when the bath was finished. The supreme thanked the girl. You had calmed down significantly since then. Zoe and the other girl, information anyone who was awoken by your screams that you were okay, and it was safe to go back to bed.

The bathwater was warm against your skin, relieving you of the dirty feeling you can only get from being drenched in sweat. Cordelia remained by your side as you begged her to be though she was reluctant to leave herself.

The times were few and far between when you would freak out as you did tonight. At least in Cordelia's eyes, she rarely had you complain about any major problems or come to her for some level of consolement.

"It felt so... real."

"Dreams usually do."

"I guess I can't get a good sleep even on a good bed."

"So, you liked the bed?"

"I said I liked it before."

"Yeah, you did, didn't you? Would you consider moving to it permanently?"

"You want me to share a bed with you?" Cordelia nodded. You chuckled. "I don't know how you expect me to keep my hands off you- I mean-" Cordelia looked up at you grinning. "Wait, have you purposely not given me a room?"

"You know as well as I do, there are beds to spare."

"You're evil. You forced me to sleep on that couch."

"You chose to sleep there, darling."

"'Darling', what are an old married couple now?"

"Weren't we always?"

"What the fuck Cordelia?"

~~~

You, the 2.0, crafted in his likeness with the removal of his ill-intent. You knew what you were, they didn't bother hiding that. You knew him to be pure evil, corrupter of God's plan.

Free will, something you weren't allowed to have. We were all meant to be subservient to the Lord. He, the morning star, was the first to be cast out of heaven. He was defiant, not agreeing with god. All he would've had to do was simply said "I sinned, I submit, please forgive me", and the matter would've been resolved. But he was too arrogant, feeling too proud to bow down. He used his own logic and blamed God for misguiding him. Why would God give them knowledge if they weren't meant to use it?

~~~

Cordelia had been going on a lot of emergency meetings through your time at the school. Some appeared to be beneficial, like the time she first went and returned with two girls (Queenie and Madison) whom you were informed later on had died under her care. Unbeknown to you, you were replacing one of their jobs.

You heard about the boy's school from the woman who attended but remained in the dark about the specifics, being told it was council business and to "not worry you pretty little head," by Cordelia. You reckoned you had a right to know if it concerned the students or Cordelia's (as your unofficial girlfriend) wellbeing in any way but she denied that it did. You stupidly accepted her answer convinced that she would tell you when something goes awry.

You got on incredibly well with Queenie. You had some of the same favourite tv shows and she had many interesting stories to tell about her time trapped as a ghost in the Hotel Cortez. You happened to be a supernatural nut which explained your love for everything magical. You may have bombarded her with way too many questions about what it was like to be a ghost, people had to pull you away in order for you to leave her alone. She filled you in on her side of attending the school, adding in all the juicy gossip that Zoe and Cordelia left out.

Madison was hesitant to interact with you. You were the young hip teacher that happened to join after she died. You mean she didn't have to be stuck with Cordelia holding them back the whole time? You hadn't interacted with her until the fifth night after your initial introduction. She was in the kitchen raiding the liquor cabinet.

"I wouldn't drink that one if I were you. Cordelia will have your head if you open that one."

"Like I care," she said breaking open the bottle of expensive white wine.

"At least pour me a glass if you aren't going to listen to my warning."

She groaned, pulling out two wine glasses and pouring you both a lot. The two of you talked about everything and nothing. You'd finished the bottle by the time you'd retire for the night. You made sure she made it to bed safely before retiring for the night. You were all giddy by the time you stumbled into Cordelia's room. The woman was bundled up under the blankets with a book in her hand. She took one look at you and shook her head, "Madison?"

"Madison," you confirmed, flopping onto the bed giving Cordelia little time for her to move her legs out of the way. "She drank your wine."

"All of it?"

"I had some too."

"I noticed."

"Told her I'd pay you back for it." You scrambled up, crawling on top of her. "I never told her how," you purred, leaning down and taking Cordelia's lips for yourself. Your tongue tasted of the wine. You took no time building into the passion of the kiss. She moaned, re-adjusting how she rested beneath you. You pulled away, murmuring "Would you like that?"

"Yes," she moaned.

You made your way down her body, removing any fabric that got in your path. You paused, seeing the wound on her abdomen. The skin surrounding it was irritated and bruised. What you assumed was a scab concaved into her. Cordelia whined asking why you had stopped. In need for more she forgot about the mark of her fading on her body. She'd hidden it well from you this far, always having that area dressed.

You shook off all the questions you wanted to ask her, instead giving her what she is owed. No reason to ruin the night for the sake of feeding your curiosity. You took your time liking and sucking the right places to turn her into a bumbling mess beneath you. She cried out for more attention. She recalled hearing the click of the door locking but knowing it wasn't her to do it. She wondered if you were going to soundproof the room too.

"Scream for me baby. Scream so the whole coven can hear."

In the little time the two of you had been a thing, you'd kept any PDA behind the close door of your shared bedroom. Anything fun you had, the noise was kept to a minimum or the room was soundproofed in advance. All those times, Cordelia had been in charge. She didn't want to ruin her reputation and didn't want any of the girls to know what she does in her spare time. You, in your tipsy state, was overcome with a newfound level of confidence. It was as though you were someone else feeding off your need to please the woman you'd been in love with for years.

The next morning you were down bright and earlier. Your chipper self poured a cup of coffee before making your way to where Zoe, Queenie and Madison were. They all turn their attention to you the moment you walk in. "I paid her back," you said, directed to Madison as you took her seat at the table. Madison looked slightly horrified (and maybe even impressed?) at you.

"How long do you think it will take her to come downstairs?"

"She's already late."

"I wouldn't expect her to be down any time soon, I wore her out last night."

"Too much detail," Zoe said. The other two laughed.

Fifteen minutes before the students were expected to be getting up, Cordelia rushed into the room. She tried to play it off as calm and collective but she was stressing about being behind schedule.

"Sorry about being late, I slept through my alarm."

"Didn't you get much sleep last night?" Queenie asked, her and Madison were trying to suppress their laugh.

Cordelia deadpanned to you, "You told them, didn't you?"

"Didn't have too, we heard it all," Madison said.

"Oh God, the students. Y/N, what were you thinking?"

"Delia, they're all old enough to know about sex."

"It doesn't mean they should be forced to hear that." You got up and headed to the kitchen before she could scold you any further. "Where are you going?"

"To get dressed, students will be up soon."

~~~

You resonated with his actions and logic, maybe because you were him in some way. That's the problem with the likeness, the blurred line between who you are and who you are seen to be. If he betrayed then so would you?

Human's fascinated you, the ability to come back from sin and earn there place in the holy kingdom. It wasn't forced but advised. Sin still existed and you could choose to break the 10 commandments. Choice. You wanted to choose your life not be bound to a memory of someone else and forced through the wrongdoings as if it were prophesied.

He wasn't like you expected, rude or demeaning. He was cunning, motivated by ill-intent, but who's to judge if it's morally good or bad? Those concepts confused you, bad could be good in another's eyes.

The man knew who you were exactly, rumours of your creation spread fast in the spirit world. "Sister. I didn't expect to meet you so soon. I would have prepared for your arrival." He offered his land to you, to help rule his throne. He had bigger plans for the end times than he let on. He fed into your desire, the same confusion he had experienced at the beginning of his rebellion.

He offered you whatever you could have wanted in order to steal you from the grips of your creator. "I want to understand the purpose of all of this. Why are humans so important? Why are expected to follow subserviently?." A life of my own.

"Then go, seek out your own answers and when you get bored or don't like the answers that you find, there's a place for you here."

"How do I get there? I don't have control-" You'd gotten there by mistake, you couldn't your powers yet. The angels expected you to which is how the ruckus in heaven began.

Think of suddenly being were you want to go and step forward. You'll be incognito unless you want to be seen. No angel has had long term exposure to humans, who knows the damages it could cause.

~~~

It was the first time Myrtle Snow had gotten some time alone with Cordelia after their arrival back from their council trip. She wasn't happy about Cordelia's decision to allow a male student at Hawthorne to compete in The Seven Wonders. Cordelia informed her that she'd seen the future and it appeared grim. At some point she knew she would have to identify her successor but she needed to buy herself some time to figure out who.

Myrtle mentioned Mallory, and how she witnessed the girl completely reversed the wounds of a dead doe and brought it back to its youth. They couldn't deny Langdon's power and though she doubted he was the next in line, he could be what brings the end.

Cordelia admitted her powers are growing weaker and feeling herself dying. She told her Aunt that she hadn't told anyone about her dwindling power except her.

"It's sooner or later Y/N is going to figure it out," Cordelia said. She feared telling you, you already noticed the markings her sickness brought along. You knew too much about magic, sooner or later you'd question her and her state. One of the perks of being the supreme was perfect health. Those mysterious marks don't match that. "I've tried to keep her out of all of this- I don't want her to get hurt." She knew you were more than capable of looking after yourself, but she still felt obligated to protect you from the world.

Myrtle brought up how painful it was to watch you swooning over her for years and it was nice to see that you get a break. The underlying threat that it will be cut short hung in the air but remained unsaid. Cordelia never having mentioned you two being together assumed she'd heard from one of the others.

Mallory interrupted them and told Cordelia that her two o'clock is here to see her.

You hadn't seen Cordelia much that day, having back to back classes, a doctor's appointment then marking once you got back. You'd worked through dinner, not realising what time it was until it was eight and your stomachs rumbling snapped you out of your concentrating state. You had one paper left on witch history. As much as you loved the history of Salem witches, you knew none of these girls cared enough to write a paper on it. There all here to improve their magic ability, history isn't going to help with that. You tossed the paper onto the rest deciding dinner was in order. Marking can be left until tomorrow.

You found a tupperware container full of left overs in the fridge. You scooped a helping of the pasta onto a plate before shoving it in the microwave. You felt two hands wrap around your waist. You chuckled and relaxed slightly.

"Missed you today baby," Cordelia said snuggling into your back. You told her you missed her back. You yawned. "Were you asleep?" she said referring to the robe you changed into when you got home from the doctors as well as your yawn.

"Had a doctor's appointment and had to mark after so I decided to get comfortable."

"Doctor's appointment? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it was a checkup. I needed to see if my medication was working. They're giving me a higher dosage."

"I don't remember you being on medication."

"I've been on them for years. Some problem with my blood. I can't remember the specifics on the top of my head." You changed the topic, the last making you uncomfortable. "You're being more cuddly than you usually are in public. What happened to keep it in the bedroom."

"That went out the window when they heard us having sex."

"You have to admit you enjoyed it."

"I did," Cordelia admitted. "You could say, I owe you."

"Not tonight. I'm worn out. I'm going to go to bed after dinner."

"I might have to finish off my work early so I can have a cuddle session before bed."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

Cordelia ran off to complete any work she had remained so she could spent her night with you.

You finished your meal and headed up your bedroom. You yawned as you entered the room. The ground felt muddy. Your eyes snapped open. You stood frozen in a forest of trees. A lone gas station stood with a mile of road on either side. "What the fuck-" you rubbed your eyes. This couldn't be real. A man stood there pumping gas into his car, nothing out of the ordinary. You reached for your pocket. You had none. You're in a robe. Outside. With nothing underneath. This hasn't happened before and hopefully never again.

You shouldn't be here, how did you get here? No level of teleportation would have gotten you this far without harm, this place wasn't near the school.

You step forwards to make your way towards the gas station. Maybe he could help you, tell you where you were so you could call Cordelia and explain what happened. A glove hand slipped over your mouth, another around your waist. You were tugged towards a body. You thrashed about trying to escape when the person spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you Y/N." You said something but it was muffled by the hand. "I'll let you go in a second but you need to see something first."

Another car pulled up and a woman stepped out. The two interacted before the woman ended up cutting his Achille's heel. He collapsed onto the ground and she slit his throat as well. To finish him off she poured gasoline on him and set him on fire. The woman pulled away in her own car. You watched as the man's flesh, burnt to dust. You screamed, cried out watching the scene unfold. You were helpless to do anything but watch on in horror.

"That man's name was John Henry Moore. He taught at the Warlock school, you know the one. He was going to rat out his brother warlocks for treason. His key's are unharmed by the fire. You have one of two choices, drive back to the school and tell your precious supreme that a warlock was murdered and have to explain why you were out here in the middle of the night or you could drive away, dump the car and not tell a soul." Both hands let go of you.

"Why did you make me watch that? Who are you?"

You spun around but no one was there. You decided to test what the person said was true. You crouch by the pile of ash. John Henry Moore, you never heard of him. That wasn't surprising, he taught at a warlock school. You weren't familiar with too many, you were always taught you were superior to them so you never bothered to look into them. You hovered your hand above the ashes, concentrating on who they used to belong to. Come on Y/N, you can do it, you repeated in your head. You took a deep breath in and out.

Information filled your mind along with snippets of the man's face. The person was right.

You snatched the keys from the pile of ash and hopped into the car. What were you doing? You can't steal a dead man's car. He isn't going to need it, you reasoned. You start up the car, listening to it rev. The camera's, they would have seen you hop into the car. With a flick of the wrist you erase any record of you being here before speeding away. You didn't know what to do. How were you meant to explain why you were in the middle of nowhere. You didn't even know where you were going.

"Where did you go so late?" Cordelia asked as you stumbled through the front door.

"Grocery store."

"In your robe?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get there? The van's still parked-"

"You ask too many questions," you snapped. She was taken aback. "I've been through hell today. Can we just leave it there?" You didn't give her a second to respond before you headed towards the back of the school. She followed you, stopping when you did. Your back faced her.

You'd changed energies since you entered the academy. You were no longer the sweet and tired woman she was planning on spending her night with. Now you were agitated. You rarely found a reason to snap at her, she worried something happened to you. She let your behaviour slide, not wanting to push you any further and cause a scene at one thirty in the morning.

"We have a new student, Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt. I put her in your class and organised a one on one with you and her today to get her comfortable being here."

You hummed fiddling with a pack of cigarettes you picked up along the way. You never smoked before in your life but the urge was all too tempting tonight. "Hmm~" you hummed, your mouth around the stick of death that was between your lips. Your hands fumbled about for the lighter you bought. Seemingly misplacing it, you groaned.

"I'm glad you're safe," Cordelia mused. "When you disappeared after you said you were going to bed, I worried." When you wouldn't pay her any attention, more focused on what you were doing she circled you. "What are you- Where did you get those?" She tried to take the cigarettes away from you but you moved away. "You don't smoke- how? Why?"

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight," you said around your unlit cigarette, stepping outside and shutting the door with your powers.

You sat there until the sun rose. The birds chirping sounded like ringing in your ears. Visions of the man burning was all you could see. The hand around your waist and mouth, holding you in place. The helplessness you felt. What kind of witch were you? You had the chance to tell Cordelia where you were, what you say and you decided against it? Who were you? Not yourself.

Your robe slipped off your shoulders revealing your back to the cold day and showcasing your white ink tattoo of angel wings. You got paid 50 bucks to do it back in the day, now it's just scarring of the tattoo you once got.

You were on your third cigarette. You took another puff, missing the sound of the back door opening under the screams in your mind. A tap on your shoulder sent you zapping elsewhere. Landing on the other side of the garden, you quickly adjusted your robe, covering up your back and naked front. Your robe must have untied itself during the night. You dropped your cigarette butt stumping it out with your bare foot.

"Mal? What are you doing up so late?"

"It's 9 in the morning," she notified you. "Cordelia told me to talk to you after you didn't head up this morning."

"I told her I was going to sleep on the couch," she probably assumed the one in her room. Mallory walked up to you sitting down beside where you teleported to. "We don't need a mediator-"

"Go and talk to her. Assure her that there is nothing to worry about. She spent the couple hours you were missing tearing the place to shreds." You chuckled at the last bit. "She also wanted me to remind you, you had that class with Coco."

"Who?"

"The new student."

"Crap, yeah. When's that start?"

"Three minutes ago."

"Shit- you distract the girl, I'll quickly freshen up."

She nodded. You grabbed your belongings before teleporting upstairs to clean yourself up. You scrambled through your belongings looking for something quick to change into. You opted for a long maxi floral dress with your platform boots. You douse yourself in perfume before sprinting downstairs. You ran past Cordelia on her way to her office, she went to speak when you said, "Meeting late." and continued on your way.

You found Mallory sitting alongside another girl. You apologised for your tardiness, and greeted the girl with a handshake.

"Your hands are cold," she commented.

"I'm well aware. So as you're aware I'm meant to so you the ropes. If you are scared, it's normal."

You dreaded the time your class your one on one would end but when it did, you were happy that the new student was at least a little more comfortable being here. She reminded you of yourself when younger. No you weren't rich, you were scared of being in a place you didn't belong and not wanting to waste the teachers time. Any witch no matter how little their powers are deserved to be here.

Once you were done you were requested to go to your girlfriends office. You didn't bother knocking as she expected you. The door squeaked, "Your door needs some oil," you commented.

"I'll make sure someone does that later-"

"Oh, I can do it. It's no problem. I'll do it now-" You deflected.

"Leave the door. It's not important." Cordelia rose from her desk chair and moved to the set of chairs in front of her desk.She chose to do this to show you were not in trouble and to remove the desk from between the both of you. You'd both use it as a barrier to hide behind. She gestured you to take the other chair. You slowly shuffled to your designated spot, your platforms scraping across the floor. Normally you would have earned a look of disapprove from your girlfriend for ruining the school's flooring. Today was different, her pet peeves were tossed out the window, replaced with an emotion you had yet to determined.

She didn't speak until you were settled in your chair. Your eyes floated everywhere never focusing on one place and definitely not on her. She realised she wasn't going to get your undivided attention, it was for the best, you never made eye contact when you were in a stressful situation. The woman allowed you to get away with pushing her away far too long. She'd let you escape from her for years during her marriage or the nights back in high school were she'd gotten a smidgen to close. She saw why now, it was as clear as day. You'd pushed her away to save yourself heartbreak. It took her until she had the sight to figure out she was being cheated on and still she couldn't figure out how strong your feelings where for her. You were pushing her away again but this time she couldn't understand why, it wasn't like the last time you did so, you haven't left her yet. It was similar to moments in high school were she was getting a little experimental, bi-curious even, but you weren't having it. You didn't want to be second, you wanted the gold. Had you figured out her secret, that her days were numbered. You'd seen the markings. You could be bracing yourself for the pain, cutting off the ties before they were snapped from you. Self induced pain was easier to deal with.

"How did the session with Coco go?" It was best to ease into the conversation, make it seem normal, Cordelia thought. You both knew it was coming so there was no point in delaying the inevitable but scaring you off wasn't the end goal.

"The Vanderbilt girl is super nice. Is Vanderbilt or Pierre a better nickname? Pierre is a masculine name and she isn't very- Vanderbilt it is." You rambled on. "I think I did a pretty good job at convincing her she belongs here."

"I knew you'd be the perfect one for that."

"Yeah~"

"I want to talk about last night-" you went to interrupt but you were silenced. "I know you don't want to talk about it but that's what couples do, they communicate so we can move past it."

You nodded, your focus now stilled on the left leg of Cordelia's chair. There was a paper clip resting next to it, bent slightly out of shape. You wanted to pick it up and put it with the rest or at least fiddle with it to distract your mind from what she was asking you to do. Talking was a chore, why would you need to talk, can't she just read your mind, or the energy you're radiating? Her idea wasn't a good one. Emotions are meant to be expressed outwardly and if not, they should remain to one's self.

"You said you were going to bed. You could have given me a heads up or texted me that you had to go out."

"I did head to bed." Your voice was small. Your hands fiddle with the light fabric of your attire. "I didn't plan on going out... It kind of happened."

"You going somewhere doesn't usually just happen. You have to actively seek out doing it."

"I-I teleported- I think. Whatever happened wasn't intentional."

"You teleported? Where?"

"I don't-" Should you tell the truth? "A park, an hour away. I went to the grocery store on the way back and picked up-"

"The cigarettes. You know what I'm going to ask you to do with them." You shook your head. She laid her hand out. You pulled them out of your clothes pocket and handed them over. "I don't want you to get addicted to these. They ruin lives and I love you too much to watch you waste it away on this." You nodded in recognition. "Did anything happen while you were out?"

You shook your head, "Nothing happened-"

"You transmutated far, are you sure you didn't get hurt?" You nodded. "Can I have a look over?"

"You just want an excuse to see me naked, don't you?"

"Always, but it is strange that you are developing new powers now or at least of that strength."

"Developing them now? Are you calling me old?" you joked.

"You're older than me." Yeah, you were. "What are you, like 905?"

"Hey! I'm not immortal."

"You could have convinced me otherwise."

"We both know that wouldn't be a good thing. We both know the story of Scáthach. "

"Are you talking about My Roanoke Nightmare? I thought you hated that show."

As much as Cordelia hated horror, you were a fanatic- not because you enjoyed the film, you loved critiquing it, ripping their use of the supernatural. You often referenced horror movies and how they were wrong in class or when casually talking to Cordelia. Then the show My Roanoke nightmare was popular, you'd binged watch it and won't shut up about the show for weeks. Cordelia knew everything about the show without seeing it. She eventually did, so she could better understand what was irritating you so much.

"I do, but Audrey Tindall is hot."

"I hope neither of us ever met her." The both of you chuckled.

"No, but seriously. She's real or at least what they say about her is. She gained immortality from ancient gods. We both know you don't make deals with ancient gods, we teach that as part of the curriculum. You don't accept gifts from deities and all that jazz. It's witchcraft 101. All I know is if I had a choice between being normal and being immortal, i'd choose normally any day. Hell I'd probably give it up. Imagine living a life where you couldn't get attached to people because you know that one day they are going to die and you'll be alone. You can met new people but you know that they are going to die too. It's a long circle of death until the world explodes or hell raises over maybe even after that. It would get lonely. Plus, I'd lose you and I couldn't handle that."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." At least not for now, not today, Cordelia thought.

[yadds]

Tony Reappears, Pt 5 - Tony gains a new confidant in the form of one Peter Parker, Pepper tries to understand.

Part 1 - what would happen if Tony appeared out of nowhere to be found by Peter, who’s still haunted by Beck’s reality bending? Part 2 - Tony is in bad shape and Peter helps, Strange snarks, and Pepper gives him the kick in the pants he needs. Part 3 - Tony has come back with more than he bargained for. Part 4: Tony is Iron Man. Plus, Tony gets to go home.

____________________________________________________________________

It was a Wednesday night and Tony was trying desperately to find a distraction. 

He’d hit a block in his control design and was spiraling, down, down into the depths of his bitterness and guilt. He couldn’t focus on anything, head jerking up periodically as he drifted in and out of consciousness while sitting at his work table. He also couldn’t stand the thought of actually trying to sleep in this mindset. 

He flung his schematic holos away, growling in frustration as he dropped his head into his hands. His eyes cut to the side to check the time. 12:15 AM. Too late to call and pester reasonable people. He sighed. 

But wait. Maybe not too late for a college student. 

“Fri, call-“ he cut himself off. No. What if Peter has a big exam in the morning and had just gotten to sleep? Or what if he was out actually enjoying his life? It’s not like he was just sitting around his dorm waiting for Tony to call. 

“Who would you like me to call, boss?” Friday asked. 

“Never mind, sweetheart. I just saw the time,” he fibbed, ”I don’t think anyone is up for a call from me right now.”

“Peter is currently taking a break from patrolling,” Friday dutifully reported. Talk about an intuitive AI. 

Tony arched a brow. “Is he now? And how do you know that?”

“Karen told me,” she replied. Right, they were basically connected at the metaphorical hip now. 

He mulled this information over for a minute before he bit the bullet. “Okay, old girl. Call him up,” he called, leaning back in his chair and steepling his hands over his chest. 

He was weirdly nervous as he listened to the phone ring. 

His heart was racing by the time Peter answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

Tony’s mouth opened but nothing came out, suddenly speechless. What was he even supposed to say? I was feeling mopey so I called someone half my age to cheer me up? What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter questioned as the silence drug on. “Shit, did I hang up on you? Damn it, Karen, I thought we’d fixed that! Ughhhhh why am I this way? Well we’d better call him back before-”

Tony chuckled, nerves evaporating as his chest filled with amused affection. “No need, kid, I’m here.”

“Oh, great! Except for the fact that you definitely just heard me rambling like an idiot. Am I talking fast? I feel like I’m talking really fast.”

“Definitely fast. You good? I thought you were patrolling - you’re not doing that high are you? Don’t make me lecture you about stupid choices,” he warned teasingly. 

“No, of course not! I’ve just been slinging around a lot, which gets my blood pumping and gets me kinda hyped up, you know?” 

Tony nodded. “Ah, to be young and enjoy life just for the hell of it,” he said sagely. 

“Don’t you get that feeling too? I mean, come on, you can fly!” Peter asked, huffing as Tony heard him sit down heavily. 

“I guess I used to,” Tony said thoughtfully. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done it just for kicks, though.”

“Well you should!” Peter insisted. 

Tony was quiet for a moment as he thought about it, remembering the thrill of flight the first time in his Mark II. But the idea of getting back in the suit made his chest sieze. He drew in a sharp breath before gathering himself enough to respond quietly, “I don’t know if I can.”

Peter hummed. “Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “It took me a while, too. I always had flashbacks of...well, you know. And panic attacks. But it got better,” he offered. 

Tony felt that knot in his chest loosen just slightly. It didn’t make it all better, but it did help, knowing someone else understood what he was going through and could validate it. He appreciated how Peter was so casual about it - he obviously took it seriously but it was also something totally normal and okay. But he’d known for years that Peter is much stronger than he is, and not just physically. 

“Maybe,” Tony replied hesitantly, not quite as optimistic about his own mental health improvement capability. He’d been in some pretty tough spots before and come back, but this was the first time he’d died.  But so had Peter and half the rest of the world, so apparently that wasn’t even particularly noteworthy.

“So, anything exciting tonight, Spiderling?” Tony asked.

Peter graciously allowed the subject change, rambling happily about stopping a mugger, walking a girl to her car who was leaving work late, playing catch with a couple kids in the park.  It was amazingly relaxing, listening to Peter recounting his night, voice animated in a way that indicated wild gesticulation on the other end of the line.

It made his throat a little thick, remembering how fucking wholesome this kid was.  This was the first time he’d gotten to hear this again since...before Titan, almost ten years ago.  He was suddenly grateful to himself for making it possible to reverse the snap, in a way he hadn’t been able to truly appreciate until this very moment.  

He realized Peter had paused, the quiet stretching before he questioned softly, “Mr. Stark?  You okay?”

Tony cleared his throat.  “Yeah, ‘course.  Keep telling me about the- the, uh, search for the best slice of pizza in Manhattan; I’m dying to know, here.”

After another hesitation, Peter continued, detailing all the places he’d visited in the past few weeks. 

Tony leaned back, closed his eyes, and smiled. 

.

A week later found Tony standing in front of one of his suits that had made it back to the lab, kept all this time, he assumed, for sentimental reasons. 

He reached out but recoiled before he could make contact, breath catching. 

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned quickly and went back to his work table. 

.

They had a schedule now. Tony spent the weekends at the cabin with the girls and occasionally picked up Morgan in the evenings after school for a few hours. 

He’d finished his control protocols (now named FEMA because he was his own natural disaster), which used subdermal chips to monitor his vitals and would deploy nanites from the wristbands he now wore to restrain him in the instance of nighttime adrenaline spikes - an unfortunately common occurrence, as he was plagued by nightmares. The restraints didn’t particularly help with the nightmare situation, but they were a necessity. 

He’d start out in bed with Pepper, but when she fell asleep, he felt the panic settle gradually over him until his chest felt concave with the pressure of it, breath coming shorter and shorter. So he’d roll out of bed and go down to the crude lab he had out there, usually tinkering with cars and blasting music loud enough that he’d hopefully drown out that inner voice whispering soft, hateful self-incriminations.

He’d quickly discovered that alcohol no longer had any effect on him. He also discovered, in a fit of desperation, that neither did drugs. So his faithful old friends had deserted him when he needed them the most. 

So he was trying so-called “healthy coping mechanisms” now, like hard work and spending time with loved ones. Which was great, but Tony’s issues were gargantuan and he was an addict at heart; he craved any release like a starving man craved food (which he was actually quite familiar with, so he knew it was apt). He knew this, knew he came on way too strong, too needy, and was just...too much. In his attempts to not smother his people, he found himself becoming withdrawn and distant, tormented by the certainty that he’d drive them away with his clingy dependence. 

Tony was terrified Pepper would remember just how inadequate he’d always been, how much his love for her, his money, his intelligence never overcame his inability to give her what she needed.  He knew she still talked to Tom, and he’d never ask her to completely cut him out of her life, but it didn’t help his insecurities.  He would see Pepper’s jaw clench or her eyes dart away and he’d find a way to quickly shut up and make himself scarce.

Happy would check his watch and Tony would suddenly recall an important task running in the lab he needed to check on. 

Morgan, his sweet angel, would gladly hang off him until the end of time, but he knew she needed to get back to having a normal life. Well, as normal as life gets when you have a family of billionaires and superheroes. 

And he also didn’t want her to see behind the curtain, to see what a weak man her father really was. 

Rhodey came by when he could, but he was kept busy with his duties in DC and a new wife. Tony had done enough to damage Rhodey’s career and relationships in the past. He didn’t need to add his newest level of instability onto his friend like that. 

And Peter. He never seemed annoyed by Tony’s random check-ins but also didn’t have a problem telling him when he was busy, which actually did more to allay Tony’s worries about being a nuisance than anything. Tony never found any indications from Peter that he should pull back. But he did anyway. Because, well, Peter was a goddamn blessing to the world. And if Tony could, he’d bottle him up and keep him all for himself. 

So, anyway, “healthy” was...probably still not an accurate term for his coping mechanisms, shoddy as they were. But at least he wasn’t poisoning his body into an early grave. Again. Ha-fucking-ha. 

.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter questioned one night. 

“Yeah, kid?” Tony replied easily, distracted by the circuit board he was soldering while they talked. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

Tony’s brows snapped down and he automatically looked up at the screen in front of him despite the fact that this was an audio call, which was frustrating since he’d really like to see Peter’s face to see if he could tell what had brought on this madness. 

“What?” He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what the hell he’d done now that made Peter feel like he’d done something wrong. He hissed as the soldering iron pressed heavily into his finger. He finally set the tool down and looked down to see the circuit board he’d been working on was ruined now. Not surprising. 

“What?” he said again. “Of course not. I mean not as far as I know. What the hell are you talking about?”

Peter’s heavy sigh echoed through the lab. “I dunno, just thought maybe I’d pissed you off or done something to annoy you,” he said, too casually.  Tony could perfectly imagine the shrug and eye aversion that would go with that statement.

“What?” Tony intoned again.  He knew he sounded like a broken record but seriously, what?  “Not at all, kid.  I mean, not more than normal.  Which was a joke, sorry, I can’t help myself.  In all seriousness though, I’m not upset at you.  Why would you even think that?”

“Okay, sorry, it’s nothing.  Anyway-” Peter said quickly, trying to change the subject.

“No, no, no,” Tony interrupted.  “Nuh uh.  Circle back around here.  I’m not letting this one go.  I need to know what I’m doing that’s making you feel like that so that I can fix it.”

“No!  You’re not doing anything wrong, Mr. Stark,” Peter insisted.

“Well, obviously I am.  Just tell me what’s going on, kid,” Tony coaxed.

After a brief hesitation, Peter took a deep breath before responding.  “You’ve just been kind of...distant, I guess.  I felt like we’d been getting along so well when I was visiting and we were talking on the phone more and it was like we were...friends, you know?  And it just seemed like lately you haven’t been as engaged and you’ve been calling less.  But I know you’re super busy and you’ve got a lot going on and more important people to hang out with, so I’m sorry, I’m just being overly sensitive.”

Tony’s elbows fell down onto the table in front of him, hands cradling his head.  Of fucking course.  His idea to help spare the kid had just ended up hurting him.  And how was he supposed to explain this without sounding as fucked up as he actually was?

“Mr. Stark?” Peter pressed softly.

“Yeah kid, still here.  Just...give me just a minute, okay?” he replied wearily.

Tony listened to Peter’s soft breaths, the rustling of the wind, the NYC traffic far in the background over the line.  

“Pete, I - fuck, I don’t know really know what to say,” he said, unable to come up with one of his usual lines.  “Just know that it is definitely not your fault.  I’m not tired of you or upset at you or any other bullshit you’re coming up with in that head of yours.  And I don’t know what ‘more important’ people you think I’m hanging out with, but that’s definitely not the case either.  I mean, hell, I think only maybe ten people are even aware I’m alive.  But regardless, even if I had every single person on the planet at my disposal, you would still be one of the most important people to me.  So don’t sell yourself so short.”

He heard Peter’s breath hitch slightly before he cleared his throat.  “Oh.  Well, okay.  And, uh, same.  Just so you know.”

Tony’s lips twitched in a tired smile.  Despite the awkwardness of it, he knew Peter was ridiculous sincere about it.  “And hey, you can always call me, too - stop making me do all the work.”

“Okay,” Peter said.  “I just don’t want to bother you.  Between trying to get your family back together and figure out your new body, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, so I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Never,” Tony replied immediately.  “Nah, kid, you’re not a nuisance.  I like hearing from you.  And honestly, you’re probably my best source for figuring out the physical craziness and I’m not utilizing you near enough for that.”

Peter hummed.  “Okay, well just promise to let me know if you’re busy or if I’m getting to be too much.”

“Same,” Tony responded, echoing Peter’s earlier statement.

As Peter huffed a laugh, Tony felt confident enough that had been handled as much as it needed to be and launched into an explanation of his current project.  

Thank God, because the moment of touchy-feely honesty was surely going to start making his skin crawl. 

.

It became a thing: Tony calling when he was stressed and couldn’t sleep, Peter calling frustrated about classes, and everything in between.  Peter realized that Tony was basically under house arrest so he’d send him pictures of random things he saw on the street - a cute dog, a weird sign, his lunch for the day, a crazy outfit someone was wearing.

More and more often, Pepper would come downstairs looking for Tony when he left their bed on the weekends to find him lounging in the lab, laughing as he talked to Peter in the middle of the night.

At first, he’d see her come in and nod and she’d smile back, relieved to see him happy and connecting with someone else.

Tonight, she was not smiling.  Tony noticed her jaw clenched and eyes shuttered when he glanced at her and he frowned.

“Hey, Pete, I’m gonna have to cut this short, okay?  We’ll talk later,” Tony cut in.

“Oh,” Peter said dumbly.  “Uh, yeah, sure, no problem.  Good night Mr. Stark!”

“Night, kid,” Tony replied before promptly hanging up.

“What’s wrong, Pep?” Tony asked, turning and giving her his full attention.  

She stood in front of him, arms crossed and fingers tapping agitatedly on her opposite elbow as she battled with whether to say what she really wanted.  Tony was quiet as he waited for her to decide.

“I’m trying to be understanding, Tony,” Pepper finally said.  “I am.  But are you ever going to be able to sleep in the same bed as me or is this going to be how it is for the rest of our lives?”

“Honestly?  I have no idea.  As long as I feel like you or Morgan are in danger then the answer is no.”

“Isn’t that what the FEMA protocol is for?” she asked.

“Yes, but it’s one thing to have it work in a test situation and another thing completely to trust it with your life.  And I don’t.  Do you think I don’t want to be able to sleep next to you?” Tony said, frustrated.

“Some days I feel like I really don’t know.  You seem perfectly content to come down here and talk to Peter every night,” she said.

“Is that a problem?” Tony asked, brows furrowed.  “Me talking to Peter?”

“No.  Yes.  I don’t know,” Pepper said, sighing, hand coming up to cover her face.  “I just feel like you’re able to talk to him in a way we haven’t been able to manage and I’m...jealous,” she admitted.  “And yes, I know how incredibly childish and stupid this sounds.”

“Hey,” Tony said softly, standing up and coming to grab her by the elbows and pull her close.  “No, it’s not stupid at all.  I get it.  Mine and Peter’s relationship is easier than ours, and it’s not fair.  But it’s because we have a simpler relationship - we’re not trying to juggle a romantic relationship, a parenting relationship, and a potential working relationship in addition to our friendship.”

“But it’s not just that,” Pepper said, looking up at him.  “You talk to him in a way you don’t talk to me.  And I never see you laugh like that with me - it’s like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tony dropped his gaze, pulling back slightly.  “I guess I also don’t feel like I have as much to lose with Peter.”

“Because he doesn’t mean as much to you or because you think he’s a sure thing and I’m not?” Pepper asked bluntly.

He pulled back another step, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair.  “I wouldn’t say Peter necessarily means less to me. Of course he doesn’t mean more than you, he’s just important to me in a different way - like how you and Morgan and Happy are all important to me in different ways.”

“And?”

Tony didn’t want to answer the second part of that question.  But Pepper was staring expectently at him, no out in sight.  “What do you want me to say, Pepper?” he asked wearily.

“I want you to tell me why you always act like you’ve got one foot out the door.”

Tony grit his teeth before replying.  “Because I know I’m gonna fuck this up and I still don’t really know where I stand with you.  So instead of bumbling my way through it, it just seems...I don’t know, safer, I guess, to just be ready for it all to explode in my face so I’m prepared for the inevitable end.”

“You’re being a coward,” Pepper said harshly, eyes filmy and lower lip trembling.  

Tony recoiled, eyes hurt and wary, but didn’t deny it. “You’re right,” he admitted softly. “But can you honestly tell me that you’re not waiting for the same thing, Pep?”

She immediately started shaking her head. “No, of course I’m not! I…” but she trailed off. 

“I see it,” Tony cut in before she could gather herself.  “I see how you’re always waiting for me to disappoint, bracing yourself for how to deal with it and make this work. I’ve always admired your problem-solving abilities, honey, but this shouldn’t have to be something that you grit your teeth and push through just to get it done. I don’t want to be another chore.”

Pepper shut her eyes tight, brow scrunched in pain briefly before she opened them again. She sniffled quietly, a tear tracking slowly down her left cheek as the rest of her face remained stoic.

As the silence drew out, she sighed, shoulders slumping. “Maybe that’s true. And I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

Tony shrugged in response, scuffing his foot across the floor. 

“But I still want to work on this, on us,” she said. 

“Me too, honey,” Tony murmured, stepping back into her space. 

Pepper smiled tremulously, reaching out and twining her fingers behind his neck. “So come to bed,” she coaxed. 

Tony stiffened, shaking his head. But as he opened his mouth, she put her finger to his lips, smile turning coy. “Beds aren’t just for sleeping, Tony.”

Eyes widening, Tony blinked helplessly for several seconds before gathering her in his arms and bolting for the main house, Pepper screeching in laughter on the way.

.

It was wonderful. 

The closeness, the intimacy, was everything he’d craved, miles of warm, smooth skin against his own. He trembled violently, overwhelmed, skin soaking up the contact it had been deprived of for so, so long.

It was beautiful. 

His hands glided over every inch of her, worshiping her body until she’d pulled him back up impatiently. He sank into her, warmth that permeated through him, down to his bones. 

It was earth-shattering. 

As she came apart beneath him and he reached his peak, he felt his blood surge, hands flying to the headboard to brace himself. Groaning deeply, his hips jolted forward and the headboard exploded in his grip. 

It was terrible. 

Chest heaving, he looked down and froze, seeing her wide eyes staring up at him, splintered shards of wood in her hair. He scrambled backwards, all that glorious warmth turned to ice in his veins. Despite her rushed assurances, he stumbled out of the room. 

It was never happening again.

____________________________________________________________________

So I ended up having to split up this update.  Because I seem to have a major problem with not having an ending that’s depressing.  

I’ve got a pretty good chunk of the next part written (look forward to Peter visiting Tony but everything still being frustratingly sweet and platonic, and a brief return mention of badass/scary!Peter) so hopefully the delay between updates will be shorter buuuuut no guarantees.  Kids, y’all, they are a major time and energy suck - but they’re worth it because I love them :)

taglist: @marvelobsessedrat, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerstories @t1of3 @consciencecoward @peachbabytarte

[kitty-lunaz]

The loss of heroes

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

             Definitions

 

PTSD-. (is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.

D.I.D- “a mental disorder characterized by the maintenance of at least two distinct and relatively enduring personality states.”

P.P.D- (depression suffered by a mother following childbirth, typically arising from the combination of hormonal changes, psychological adjustment to motherhood, and fatigue.) 

Depression-Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems

Schizophrenia- schizophrenia (a serious mental disorder in which people interpret reality abnormally. Schizophrenia may result in some combination of hallucinations, delusions, and extremely disordered thinking and behavior that impairs daily functioning, and can be disabling).  

Hallucinations- perception of objects with no reality usually arising from disorder of the nervous system

Conventions-A convention, in the sense of a meeting, is a gathering of individuals who meet at an arranged place and time in order to discuss or engage in some common interest. Valkyrior- Within the context of Marvel's shared universe, the Valkyrior is a group of female warriors led by Brunnhilde / Valkyrie that was originally designated by Odin to bring the souls of slain heroes to Valhalla.

God Khonshu- Khonsu (Ancient Egyptian: ḫnsw; also transliterated Chonsu, Khensu, Khons, Chons or Khonshu) is the Ancient Egyptian god of the Moon.

Inertia- a tendency to do nothing or to remain unchanged.

Iron man’s addiction- alcoholism

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

 

Hero a person who saves others. What about the kids who don’t have their hero. What about the kids whose hero was iron man, captain America, Thor, hulk, people like that? Our heroes are gone and we don’t have hope anymore. People say it's all going to be ok, we’ll be ok but what about when we lost all hope. What about those of us whose heroes we remembered as the creations of stan lee. Imagine the silence that has echoed for almost two years and it is still here. It’s not going away. The yelling of the depressed scared kids comes across deafened ears. Our pain fills our ears, mouths, and brains its overriding everything we’ve got left.

Young people now barely past 23 still choke on the mornings of a certain September day. Seeing a corrupt country that still somewhat loved its country shattered to its bones. Broken-down voicemails of a man giving up his right to a family. People staring out windows as a pair of buildings seen as a CenterPoint of a nation crumbles to ash and death stung the air.

Kids shaking in fear as another child points a gun at them. Their last moments in a place that swore it would protect them. Their heads screaming a blissful cry of fear at finally not having to fear this moment again. Yet crying out for someone like their own ‘friendly neighborhood Spiderman’ to come and save them.

So many of us thinking maybe just maybe if ‘so and so heroes’ were real maybe things would be better. Maybe if they were, daddy/ mommy would’ve made it home because they could’ve stopped the fire, the crash, the shooting. Maybe if they were real we could go to conventions and have them give us another reason to smile.

Our generations need so many heroes, heroes like Valkyrie who shows strength in not only being a beautiful woman of color, a leader of the Valkyrior, and a woman who is on the LGBT spectrum. We need heroes some like Deadpool who talk people from jumping off buildings those who remind us we might not be great people but we can change and better ourselves. We need heroes like Moonlight, wonder woman, or Daredevil each of these three has different illnesses I will do a quick explanation of their illnesses, but we need heroes like this who remind us and tell us that it is ok. That even heroes aren’t perfect they are ‘human’ in so many cases.

Moonlight who is a male character who supposedly was given powers to him by an ancient Egyptian God Khonshu. He has been depicted as having D.I.D.  He has also been shown hallucinating to the point that in certain comics even the reader becomes confused: Did he ever even have powers in the first place? What is he truly experiencing? There is cases wherein extreme fear of situations he takes on other personalities for long periods. His most notable secondary persona is Jake Lockley. Some even theorizing he may have a form of schizophrenia.

  Wonder woman is a non-human who has a human appearance. She experiences a few mental illnesses although compared to some heroes they seem to lackluster and nonserious. Yet although hers are less than painful than some that does not mean they aren’t important just rather a different type. One said illness a very common one in heroes P.T.S.D. For her she had been living her life believing one thing only to find a large portion of the place the memories took place in being false. This and a mix of other things she has experienced sent her into a level of shock which sent her into a catatonic state. She would experience things such as hallucinations of a snake that came out of her arm and would talk to her. (Do not do what she did to help hers see a therapist for help if you can.) She ended up as much as some with an illness like P.T.S.D can she cured herself by doing a form of self-exploration. 

 

   Daredevil is a different character. His mental illness isn’t his only illness though. Matthew Murdock is a blind lawyer.  He is an extremely interesting character being born from a poor family. His mother started experiencing P.P.D. This led to her attacking matt as young age her husband jack stopped the attack in turn she left and joined a covenant in which later on would meet and connect back with matt. The more important part of that is rather that he could inherit depression. Later on, in his life this mattering on which version his dad who was a boxer would be killed for not throwing a fight. Either being a gymnast/Boxer as a child or be taught by the character stick. Either way, he would at some point lose his sight from trying to save a man from a chemical spill. This would aide in his fighting ability because of his enhanced senses. Yet as with many superheroes’ death plagued him like his own shadow. His two lovers both killed by a very common villain named kingpin. Depression would become an illness he is constantly fighting. A section a comic would show in a set of three panels of his fist seeming to push through a thick layer of a gelatin-like substance that didn’t want to bend. This representing the battle against depression the words accompanying this would hit home for many.  “Get up you have momentum now, don’t let the shadows pull you back in. Inertia is the enemy; do something, move. Move Matthew”

  This is not to say generations raging back long before D.C. was even an idea didn’t need heroes. Yet rather than their issues were different not to say they didn’t deserve them. Those times didn’t have them and then seemingly losing them.  Logically they probably did posters for survival and fighting spirit but they could see and hold the hope themselves without needing to hear things like this to believe they were safe…

  “I am iron man” and think that he will protect me even through a screen or comic book page.

  “I could do this all day” Imagining him using his shield to protect you from bullets physical and metaphorical.

  “With great power comes great responsibility” Knowing that he’ll catch you as you fall into your depressive episodes.

  “Odin’s beard!” Knowing that although he could be doing other things there were those with powers to hurt yet use them to help

  “Excelsior!” That no matter what there will be hope and there will be those willing to save you in the darkest times.

  Now “I am iron man” echoes in pained breaths. “I could do this all day” feels more like a mock of how hard our lives trying to break us down. “Odin’s beard!” Feels like lightning piercing the heart knowing it may never sing out its call again. “Excelsior!” Now there’s an emptiness it licks at the ears, eyes, brain, and heart and it feels like it will never refill.

The face of hope seems stripped away now as a series of movies and characters have finally waved a long-awaited farewell. Wolverine said goodbye as time has gone on the x-men series slowly seemed to lose its tact yet there was always a joy knowing there was a mix of different people keeping us all safe.

  Iron man gave his most graceful goodbye, and now his addiction seems more appealing so there’s still a connection. America placed his shield away and watched his sunset, now fighting so that way someone is protecting others seems kind. Thor laughed booming and it echoes trying to claw anything close enough to that joy one last time.

  Memories of our heroes will always be here leaving an aching in the lungs.

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 3 - Be My Somebody

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary: 

The events of the Quidditch World Cup seem like a distant memory for everyone. Everyone except Hermione Granger. Night before the group of Gryffindors are to leave on the Hogwarts Express, Hermione Granger finds herself pleasantly distracted from the nightmares she's endured every since her chase in the forest with Frederick Weasley. Who knew Fred could be such pleasant company?

Fred ponders on his second to last year at Hogwarts and his plans for the future, while juggling the complicated relationship he has with Angelina and his ever growing need to figure out the enigma that is Hermione Granger.

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note: I will now be updating this story every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)! Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<-- Chapter 2

Last night was a record to be broken It broke all over the kitchen floor Oh no, don't you go I'm coming back with a rag To wipe away the haze from the days We've forgotten all about

  The clock ticked but it did not track the time, as Hermione sat in the empty living room of the Weasley home. Lazily, she scanned the pages of the book in her lap, but it was not enough to keep her eyes from drooping with the weight of sleep. It was far past bedtime and everyone else had gone to sleep hours ago. Everyone except Hermione. Instead, she had stayed awake with her charms book in her lap and the looming fear of night in the back of her mind. It had been exactly seven days and six nights since the Quidditch World Cup and for six nights she had dreamed of it. Or to be more exact, she had endured nightmares of it. Every time she allowed herself to sleep, she was plagued by dark hooded figures and swirling green snakes. She tried everything she could to combat it: warm milk, exercise, meditation, she even spent all her time studying just to fill her mind with things other than dark witches and wizards, but it seemed that nothing was going to work. So instead, she had decided to just forgo sleep altogether. Again, her mind was drifting as she read and reread the words on the page in front of her. With a sigh, she closed the book and set it beside her before leaning forward in her seat and resting her face in her hands. She was tired. But she was also afraid, and she couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t like that night had been the first time in her life that she had been placed in mortal danger. In fact, she had probably faced things that many adults hadn’t. Yet, it seemed that her encounter with You-Know-Who’s followers, or Death Eaters as the Daily Prophet had named them in their article on the attack, had been a turning point. She just felt…different. The whole situation had felt different. More real. And she had been left with a looming sense of dread ever since. With a yawn, she stood and headed towards the kitchen. Perhaps a cup of tea would help her stay awake.

Stumbling through the door to the kitchen on weary limbs, she walked over to the kettle and filled it with water before placing it on the stove and reaching to grab a mug from the cupboard.

“Burning the midnight oil Granger?”

The mug slipped from her fingers as she jumped in surprise. Turning she saw one of the twins standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking at her with an amused expression. Slowly he moved further into the kitchen and Hermione identified him as Fred.

“Merlin, Frederick. You scared me,” she whispered harshly, bending to pick up the broken shards of ceramic.

“Allow me—" Fred pulled his wand from his pocket “—Reparo.” The pieces of the mug lifted from the ground and swirled to the air, fusing together until it formed a singular form and landed gently in Hermione’s hand.

“You’re really not allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts Frederick,” she scolded, staring down at the cup in her hands.

“Thank you, Fred. You’re too kind, Fred—” he mocked in a high-pitched voice that Hermione could only assume was supposed to be her “—That rule really only applies to muggleborns, Granger. It’s hard for the ministry to really know who’s doing what when a house is filled with nothing but witches and wizards.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes, and turning back to the counter. She set the mug down gently, careful not to break it once again and closed her eyes, trying not to focus on the irritation that Fred interrupting her had elicited. The last thing she wanted was a rowdy Fred Weasley attempting to play mind games at this time of night. However, this was his home and not hers. He was perfectly allowed to wander wherever he liked, whenever he liked.

“I was just making some tea. Would you like some?” she asked politely, turning back to face the tall and lanky boy. Fred had moved even further into the kitchen and was leaning against the table, looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite discern. It was almost like he was trying to figure something out. Wordlessly he pushed away from the table and grabbed a second mug from the cupboard above her. He placed it on the counter beside hers and looked down at her, still with the same indiscernible expression.

“I got it, why don’t you sit down?”

Hermione’s brain skipped for a second at the uncharacteristically kind gesture.

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own cup of tea Frederick, and besides—"

“—and besides, you’re a guest in this house and it’s the hospitable thing to do.”

Hermione looked up at Fred suspiciously causing him to chuckle, “I’m not going to poison your tea Granger. Contrary to what mum says, she did manage to teach George and me some manners.”

Hermione took another second to analyze the risk before she nodded and sat down at the table, watching as Fred grabbed the boiling kettle and tea. She guessed it wasn’t too out of character for him to be kind. After all, the night of the Quidditch World Cup he had been very kind. He had given her his cardigan and he had comforted her when she had been scared and upset. He had even gotten into a fight for her, her second year when Draco Malfoy had called her a mudblood. Hermione figured it was his instinct as an older brother that led him to feel protective of her. She was only two years older than Ginny and a year older than Ron. It was nice to think of herself as part of a family like that. Hermione didn’t have any brothers or sisters and being so far from home all the time, she often missed that familial connection. But she had the Weasleys and Harry, and while she certainly loved them like family she often wondered if they felt the same way about her. 

“How do you take your tea?” Fred’s voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up to see him looking at her again, this time with a more casual and friendly expression.

“Oh, 5 spoons of sugar and no cream please.”

“Bit of a sweet tooth there, Granger?” Fred laughed, causing Hermione to blush slightly.

“Yeah—" she laughed nervously “—my parents are always warning me about cavities, but I don’t really listen.”

“Cavi—?” Fred asked confusedly as he carried the two mugs of tea to the table.

“Cavities. They’re a muggle disease that affect your teeth. It makes them rot out of your head. You get them when you don’t brush your teeth or from eating too much sugar.” Hermione accepted her mug of tea from Fred appreciatively and brought it to her lips, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a small sip. It was perfectly sweet and just the way she liked it. Fred nodded at her explanation and took a sip from his mug as well.

“I like my tea the opposite, milk and no sugar—" he placed his mug down on the table, his large hands wrapping almost all the way around it “—I’ve never been much of a fan of sweets myself. George is though.”

Uncomfortable silence filled the room, as they sat drinking their tea. Both of them unsure of what to say to other.

“I never thanked you for the other night,” Hermione admitted, wondering why that had been the first thing to pop into her mind for conversation. She really didn’t want to talk about what had happened that night, so why had she said that?

“For what?” Fred asked casually, taking another sip of his tea.

“For lending me your cardigan. It was very…gentlemanly of you.” Fred had given her an out and she had gladly taken it.

“Well as long as you don’t go skipping about school telling everyone how much of a gentleman I am, then I guess we’re even,” he gave her a playful wink and a friendly smile. She smiled in return, finding it hard not to when Fred’s was so infectious.

“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten it back to you yet, but I wanted to wash it first and admittedly, it’s quite comfortable. I’ll be sad to give it up,” Hermione confessed.

“That’s because mum made it. Her knitting is the best.”

“Harry and Ron always say that about their Christmas jumpers as well.”

“Don’t you have one?” Fred asked, his voice a tone of surprise. Hermione shook her head, blushing in embarrassment. No, she had not received a jumper from Mrs. Weasley. Something that she tried not to think about every Christmas when Harry and Ron showed her their new patterns and designs. She knew that it shouldn’t hurt her. It made sense. Harry had no family beside his horrid aunt and uncle, and Mrs. Weasley therefore felt as though she were responsible for his wellbeing. Hermione on the other hand had two very loving parents that adored her. She was not left wanting for much of anything. However, that didn’t stop her from feeling a small pang of jealousy every year.

“So, what are you doing up so late?” Hermione changed the subject, looking down into her tea and then back up at Fred. He looked tired, something she had never seen on the jovial face of the well-known trickster. Small bags hung under his hazel eyes and his pale skin looked a tinge grey, or maybe it was just the poor, lamp lit kitchen casting shadows. Fred rubbed his eyes with his hands and took a deep breath.

“I never sleep well the night before the first day of school.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I guess it started the first couple of years just because I was so excited but now it’s almost a tradition. It’s like my body knows, even if I’m not as excited as I used to be—” his laugh had a bitter edge to it as he brought his mug back up to his lips and took a long gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed “—What about you? I don’t normally have company these nights.”

Hermione brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of her tea to buy time before answering, “I guess I just have too much on my mind.”

Fred let out a barking laugh.

“What?” Hermione asked, wondering what about her answer had been so amusing.

“Nothing, there’s just something really amusing about you having too much on your mind. Is that even possible?” Fred raised an eyebrow amusedly.

“I know a full and active mind is a foreign concept to you Frederick but yes, it is entirely possible,” Hermione wanted to swallow her tongue as soon as she said the words. So far, she had had the advantage of a swift exit every time she had made a joke at his expense. Now, however, with Fred sitting across from her looking at her as if she were a new species he had just discovered, she wasn’t sure if he was going to write extensive studies on her or poach her for sport. All her worries were washed away, however, when Fred burst out into laughter. The tension flooded from her body and she joined him, laughing until her eyes watered.

“That was a good one Granger,” Fred chuckled. “Are you thinking of dropping out of Hogwarts and becoming a comedian now?”

“No, that seems more your speed.” Hermione smirked and placed her mug onto the table, leaning back on the bench and crossing her arms.

“Oh, a clown then. You’ve definitely got the hair for it.”

Usually Hermione would have been irate at his comment but instead she found herself leaning forward across the table and ruffling Fred’s shaggy red hair, “Only if you lend me this ridiculous color. It’s so bright and obnoxious, I wouldn’t even need to put the nose on.”

Fred shooed her hands away as she giggled. “Oh, I’m sure all my family would love to hear that.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Hermione gasped, placing her hands on her hips and looking down at his sitting figure.

“Alright, you’re right. I wouldn’t, but only because I love them and wouldn’t dream of ruining their perfect image of you.” He placed a hand over his heart in mocking sincerity that only caused them both to chuckle again as Hermione sat back down.

“Oh please, I’m far from perfect,” she rolled her eyes and shook her head at the ridiculous notion, looking down into her tea as the atmosphere around them settled into a comfortable silence. Gone was the uneasy tension from before and in its place was a warm familiarity. She rested her chin on the heel of her palm and quietly sipped her tea as they sat, just enjoying the peaceful kitchen – so different then from the usual chaos it housed. It wasn’t until she felt a warm hand touch her forearm that she realized she had closed her eyes and was dozing. She blinked rapidly, taking in the sight of Fred across the table from her, giving her an amused smile.

“I think it’s time for bed,” he spoke softly, and Hermione nodded in response, standing slowly and heading towards the stairs. She looked back to see Fred carrying their mugs to the sink.

“Goodnight Fred.”

“Goodnight Hermione.”

    “The nerve of the woman!” George cried in outrage as he slid the compartment door open and plopped himself down next to Alicia.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Lee asked, looking through a pile of chocolate frog cards on his lap.

“We had all our order forms made out for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and a sizable inventory packed and ready to take with us, and the vile woman confiscated the whole lot this morning!” George huffed in frustration. “We spent all night getting ready!”

“I spent all night getting ready. You fell asleep early,” Fred reminded his brother, but was ignored as George pouted looking out the window.

“I have half a mind to test out some new products on her.”

“She didn’t get everything Georgie. Besides, do you really think it’s wise to prank our own dear, sweet mum? Especially after she was so apologetic about scolding us for our O.W.L.’s when we got back from the Cup?” Fred raised an eyebrow at his twin and closed the compartment behind him before sitting down next to Angelina.

She flashed him a small smirk and nudged his side with an elbow. Holding out a hand, her offered him some jelly slugs to which he declined politely. Angelina was one of his oldest friends, he had known her since his first year at Hogwarts and they had become close friends through the hours and hours of Quidditch practice that their captain, Oliver Wood, had put them through. So, it made sense that they shared their first kiss in fourth year behind the quidditch pitch. I don’t want my first kiss to be awkward and horrible with someone I actually fancy, she said before she had leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Then, last year, in their fifth year, it seemed like a reasonable step when they lost their virginities to each other too. Why not just get it out of the way? I don’t want to be a virgin forever, she confessed to him one night when they were both up late in the common room. Fred of course wasn’t going to argue with her, his teenage hormones telling him to grasp every opportunity as tightly as a jinxed broomstick. It, of course, had been a mess of limbs and fumbling lips that ended much too early for his liking. Since then, something that was supposed to have been a one-time thing turned into a regular activity.

“Say, do we get any of these brilliant inventions of yours for free? Because, you know, we’re your friends,” Lee asked, putting his feet up in the windowsill of the train.

“Not a chance!” Fred barked, grabbing a jelly slug from Angelina’s lap and throwing it at the boy sitting opposite him.

“Really? Not even for me?” Angelina looked up at him through her lashes, a sarcastic attempt at seduction he was very much immune to.

“Especially not for you,” he all but growled back teasingly. She laughed in his face as she rolled her eyes and snagged a chocolate frog from Lee.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could have one of those Angelina Johnson,” Lee stressed her whole name accusingly, crossing his arms in distaste.

“I didn’t ask, Lee Jordan,” she mocked his scolding tone, causing the whole compartment to break out into laughter – even George, who seemed to be in better spirits as he indulged in the sweets being passed throughout the compartment. While Fred was also particularly angry with their mother, he couldn’t be too angry as she hadn’t done irreparable damage. They had won some money off their father’s friend, Ludo Bagman, at the Quidditch World Cup. It would be more than enough to replace everything she had gotten rid of and then some.

It had been surprising how quickly everything went back to normal after the World Cup. When they arrived home, their mother almost hugged them half to death, going on and on about how he and George could have died, and how she was sorry she yelled at them all the time. She even apologized about criticizing their O.W.L.s, which was surprising because Fred secretly agreed with her about how pitiful they were. That of course, didn’t stop her from searching their trunks and emptying their pockets before they left for the Hogwarts Express, but he couldn’t really be mad at her. She had looked so upset, and he hated seeing her truly upset. George…he cared a little less.

The five of them sat for a while, Angelina and Alicia chatting about some article they had read in Witches Weekly, George and Lee trading Chocolate Frog cards they had collected over the summer, and Fred looking out the window, watching as the scenery passed by. The rushing sounds of the train seemed to blur into a humming white noise that blended nicely with the laughter and shouts of his friends and the other students running through the train. Quickly, he felt his eyes begin to droop and a yawn escaped his lungs. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. He blamed Granger almost entirely for it. He had just gone downstairs to grab a glass of water after tossing and turning in bed for a few hours, and instead of finding the quiet solace of an empty kitchen, she had been there. It should have surprised him to find her standing there in front of the stove, baggy pants and shirt engulfing her small frame almost as much as her big, bushy hair did. Everything about Hermione was big: big clothes, big hair, big teeth, big eyes, big mouth, big brain. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t big about her was her stature, which he found to be quite funny. All those big features on such a small, little girl – it was almost so comical she might as well not be real. Or at least that’s what he thought when he stood watching her from the bottom of the staircase before he decided to let his presence be known. For a second, he had considered just turning around and going back to bed, but then thoughts of her seemingly new brash personality came into mind and he decided that maybe he needed to get to know Hermione Granger a little more.

Their conversation had been surprisingly entertaining. He had never had a better conversation with her – in fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever had a conversation with her, just the two of them. But then again, why would he? However, it was because of this conversation that he found himself in bed later that night, or morning to be more accurate, more awake than ever. If he had just been able to get a glass of water in peace, he would have been able to walk back upstairs and fall asleep calmly, but instead he had been energized by their conversation, even if she fell asleep near the end of it.

“So, how was everyone’s summer?” Angelina asked casually, breaking the silence, and bringing Fred out of his thoughts.

“Well, I spent the whole time helping my mum around the house and helping my dad in the garden. So, just lovely,” Lee replied sarcastically.

“Speaking of parents, were any of your parents acting odd this summer?” Alicia spoke up.

“Odd how?” George questioned, turning to look at the girl next to him.

“Like they knew something about the school year that we didn’t? My dad just kept saying how much fun I was in for and how he wished he were back at Hogwarts. It was really weird,” Alicia admitted.

Thinking about it, Fred did recall the number of comments made by his father about how they were in for a great year and how he wished he were sixteen again. He and George just assumed it was some kind of mid-life crisis, but now it didn’t seem that way anymore.

“Now that you mention it our dad was doing the same thing. Right Freddie?”

“Yeah, and Charlie kept saying things about how he’d be seeing us sooner than usual.”

“And who can forget the way Percy kept walking around with his nose in the air, talking about how he knew some great big secret that none of us knew,” George said, shaking his head.

“Git,” they remarked together.

“What do you suppose is going on then?” Lee asked, lifting his legs off the windowsill and crossing one ankle over the other in front of him.

“Beats me,” Fred and George answered.

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough—" Angelina concluded, pinching Fred’s side inconspicuously “—I’m going to the loo. Be right back.”

Fred watched as the young witch stood and exited the compartment. He sat there for a while, listening to Lee complain about getting Dumbledore again after opening a chocolate frog, before standing himself.

“Think I’m going to go and try to nick some sweets from the trolley, want anything?” Fred looked to his brother who was leaning against the wall next to the window.

“No, I think you’ll have your hands full,” said George knowingly.

Fred smirked and walked out of the compartment. Turning left, he travelled through the train, peeking into the compartments as he walked past them. Groups of unfamiliar first years filled the spaces—some sitting rod straight in fear and some bouncing in their seats with excitement. Traveling further, he saw a group of Ravenclaws engaged in a heated debate, a few Hufflepuff and Gryffindor girls piled over a copy of Witches Weekly, some Slytherins talking idly, and one or two students frantically working on what appeared to be last minute summer homework. All these students, they had so much time left and here he was, approaching his second to last year. Soon he would have to go into the big, wide world. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and do it all over again. He wouldn’t change anything, but he definitely would savor the experience. He had wandered into the last carriage of the train when he felt hands grab his arm and pull him into a seemingly empty compartment. Soft, full lips enveloped his as he slid the door shut behind him and locked it with a simple spell. What happened next could only be described as a frantic clash of lips, teeth, and skin.

“Well that was fun,” Fred stated casually some time later as he watched Angelina twist her skirt back in the right direction.

“It was. I’ve missed having you around,” Angelina responded genuinely.

“Oh, I see, you just missed having my body at your beck and call Miss Johnson? Well don’t I feel used,” Fred laughed, causing Angelina to roll her eyes.

“Come on then, we should probably get back before anyone suspects anything.” Angelina crossed her arms and waited for the boy in front of her to stand up.

“I wouldn’t be too worried about that—" Fred informed her as he tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up his trousers “—George already knows and everyone else in our group is too oblivious to put two and two together.”

“It’s cute that you think Alicia doesn’t know every single detail as well.” Angelina patted him on the cheek before grabbing the door handle to the compartment.

Upon returning to the others, no one seemed to care about how long they had been gone, or what they had been up to, just like Fred had known they wouldn’t. The train came to a stop soon thereafter and they were again, back at Hogwarts. Fred gazed up at the large castle through the window of their horseless carriage as it pulled them up towards the main entrance, rocking back and forth over the uneven dirt path. Every window seemed to glow a warm yellow despite the cold, grey storm that brewed in the sky. Fred thanked Merlin that Dumbledore thought of everything when it came to Hogwarts, noticing how the carriages had been equipped with roofs this time to accommodate for the rain that was beginning to fall. He pulled his robes closer to protect himself from the uncommonly chilly night and thought of warm things, like dinner in the Great Hall, the fireplace in the Gryffindor Tower, or even the nice clean sheets of his bed.

With all the grandeur, grey stone, and looming appearance that was Hogwarts, it held a familiar and homey feeling to Fred and George. It was their own personal playground, where they could get into a sizable amount of trouble with close to no repercussions. They knew every hide away, every secret passageway, they even knew where Filch and Mrs. Norris would be at most times. In fact, the moments in which they did get in trouble were due more to pure carelessness than ineptitude. When they finally entered the Great Hall, Fred and George were excitedly planning on setting off a couple of Dungbombs in the Prefect’s bathroom later that night. They sat down at their usual place at the Gryffindor table, Fred beginning to recount the last time they bombed the Prefect’s bathroom to Lee, when George broke their conversation to nudge him in the side and point down the table. Hermione Granger was soaked head to toe.

“You’re looking a bit…damp, Granger,” George said suggestively.

“If you must know, Peeves was throwing water balloons outside the Great Hall when we arrived,” the little witch responded, her nose raised high in the air.

“You hear that Freddie? It was Peeves that got her soaked,” George stressed the last word, hoping to get a blush out of the little goody-two shoes through sexual innuendo, but she merely kept her gaze and expression neutral.

“Oh, shucks Georgie, for a second I thought we were the only ones to make our little Granger all wet,” Fred chimed in with his brother and they both snickered. He knew that when it came to the fine art of riling someone up, sexual innuendo was the cheapest way to go. But a part of him longed to push the swotty fourth year as far as he could, to see if there was a threshold to her newly acquired sass. If that meant he had to stoop to cheap tricks, so be it.

He got his answer much sooner than he expected—their laughter cut short when Hermione decided to grace them with her next response, “Please, I do have some self-respect.”

The well-coined response sitting at the tip of Fred’s tongue, fell flat and short the moment his brain processed what Hermione said. He smiled, widely, quirking an eyebrow and nodding once towards his twin and then towards the bushy-haired girl as if to say ‘Touché Granger, Touché’.

Chapter 4 -->

Taglist: 

@theworldisugly-22

@i-d-e-g-a-f

[amydancepants-peralta]

6, 11, or 24 from cliche prompts :)

Hi there, Anon!  First off I’m very sorry that it has taken me so long to come up with a response to this one.  I just couldn’t figure it out.  🤦🏼‍♀️  But here we have it:  Cliche Post Prompt #6 - Jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted. (Big thanks to @fezzle and @b99peraltiago for your help with this one!)

Set during s4, ‘Crime and Punishment’ - the night before Jake’s conviction.

save tonight (fight the break of dawn)

When it all began, Amy’s fortnightly trip to the local library had felt just like all the others.  

She had raised her hand in greeting to the librarian as she passed (a woman named Moira, who was not her favourite to be honest - Adriana was far more precise with her book stacking skills), fighting back a blush as she walked past the private study room: aka, the room that she and Jake had occupied for the evening during his six month anniversary surprise for her.  Every time she passed it, Amy was reminded of the steamy kisses they had shared that evening (and okay yes, maybe some other stuff happened, but that was a secret between the two of them and the books in that room, okay?!).  

Her legs carried her quickly over to the literary classics, knowing that her heart craved the celebrated words of some of her favourite authors, and before long she was breathing in the familiar scent of tales older than time.  Then, a noticeable error caused her to take pause.  

For there, in between the Tolstoy and the Tolkien, sat a novel where title was not visible, but the author’s name was - and it clearly started with an F.  Dammit, Moira.  With a shake of her head Amy moved to grab and move the offending item, before she noticed that the author next to this book started with an I.  Beside that, an author with a G.  Then another G, back to an I, ending inexplicably in an S.  And she couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the combination of those letters that filled her with a sense of dread.  

Her fingers dug into the curved spine of the novels, grabbing all six and pulling them away from the shelf, only to discover a brightly coloured map of Florida pasted to the shelf behind.  

Vandalism in the literary section?  

What on earth was going on? 

She realised that it was all a dream when the buzzing of a neon sign finally broke through the silence.  Swivelling in place, Amy read Welcome to the Slaughterhouse, random letters flickering like a stammering heartbeat.  Beneath the sign a prized pig, its hooves still covered in slop, paced the library floor.  She moved towards it, and it cantered off with an exaggerated squeal.  Her head began to shake as the disorientation washed over her.  None of this was logical.  And this was not the library she knew and loved.  

A scratching feeling in her skin made her look down at her arm, and Amy blinked in confusion at her left hand holding a pen, writing Flaxton Hill all over her other forearm.  Her fingers flexed as they dropped the instrument, pen fading into the background before it ever hit the floor.  Yeah.  Definitely a dream.  

The lights above her began to dance before dimming completely, the welcome sign casting a red haze over the room and Amy feels her chest tightening, head shaking again as she’s suddenly overcome with the need to find her way out of this dream before it turns into a nightmare.  

Jake’s voice cuts through the pounding sound of her heartbeat.  “Ames.”

Her hands are still gripping the books she removed from the shelf and she turns to her left, where she thought the sound came from, but he isn’t there.  The fluorescent bulbs above her switch from low to high again and she blinks, holding the books against her forehead as she shelters herself from the light, trying desperately to ground herself.

“Babe.”  His voice calls out again, and Amy drops the novels without a second thought, pages falling open at her feet as she twists to the right.  Jake’s there, smiling behind the book shelves, his face so perfectly calm that she can feel herself relax, finally safe in the knowledge that he is here - that whatever this place was, they were in it together.

She realises that this dream is actually a nightmare when she reaches for Jake, arm stretching out across the shelves, fingertips barely touching before the spines of the books turn black, multiples merging into thick lines, dark in colour and metallic in texture as the shelves squeeze closer together, settling with a clang that reverberates across the building.  Their hands snatch away from the middle as a bitter coldness fills the air; overhead lights switching off completely - the neon sign turning the room a palpably ominous red, and in a matter of seconds there are thick black bars separating her from the love of her life.  

She runs along the former bookshelves, calling out his name as the bars grow longer, library extending until there is no end in sight, and no matter how hard she tries, she just. can’t. get to him.

“It’s okay, babe,” he tells her, running along beside her, and she looks at him as though he’s crazy because it’s not okay, because how could it be okay?, and there are diamonds falling from the ceiling and the strange smell of Blue Rad-Berry slushie taking over her senses and absolutely nothing makes sense anymore.  

He calls her name one last time, and she feels his hand on her shoulder - which is impossible, because he’s still on the other side of those bars, and she lets out a gasp, squeezing her eyes shut as everything fades to black.

Her heart is somewhere up in her throat when she opens her eyes again, pushing herself up from the mattress as her lungs fight to regain control in the darkness.  She can feel Jake’s hand on her back, warm and comforting, stroking her gently through her (his) old academy shirt, and she times her breaths to match his movement - up and down, in and out.  

His voice, soft and yet so loud in the darkness, is laced with concern.  “You okay, Ames?”

Amy turns slightly, chin resting on her shoulder, and she nods, giving him a smile that she’s not sure he can see through the darkness.  His eyes shine through the dark, edges crinkling as he smiles back, and she reaches back for his hand, gripping it tightly when it leaves her back.  Her palm is clammy, her body still covered in the cold sweat that had washed over her body while she fought her way out of the terror, but he only squeezes harder.

She had been seven years old when the night terrors began.  With her parents stepping out for a long overdue date night, her older brothers had been designated in charge for the evening, and had promptly set up a horror movie in the basement.  Relegating her to her bedroom, with the declaration that she was Too Young to be watching such movies, both Miguel and Tony had been naive enough to believe that their younger sister would stay in her room like her brothers.  For even then, Amy Santiago wasn’t interested in somebody else telling her what she could and could not see.  

So under the cover of darkness, she had pushed the basement door open, settling herself onto the highest section of the staircase that still afforded her a view of the television, and began watching what would turn out to be the most terrifying movie of her life.

She sat frozen, glued to the steps as the image of a clown with razor sharp teeth flashed onto the screen, and as a yellow raincoat disappeared down a drain she had let out a scream - the loudest, sharpest scream ever uttered: loud enough that within two minutes their neighbours were banging on the front door, absolutely certain that something sinister had befallen one of the Santiago children.

Two things had resulted from that night - her brothers were banished from all future babysitting duties (from which birthed a grudge that Tony would hold against his sister for years to come), and Amy began experiencing increasingly vivid nightmares.  Within weeks, there was a well-worn path between her bedroom and her parents, the solace of Victor and Camila’s arms proving to be the only balm to soothe her pounding heart from the terrors in her mind.

As she grew older, the haunting imagery would change - red balloons floating ominously in the background would turn into tests with red marks of failure on them; hideous monsters with gnashing teeth taking the shape of disappointed superiors and brothers excelling in fields that she could not master.  By the time she was nearing the end of high school, the imagery of her senior portrait moving from the piano to the far end of the staircase was enough to keep her awake at night, hands shaking as they gripped the duvet tighter around her, never quite warm enough when the thought of failure struck true fear into her heart.

Living a life based on rules and structure had provided some relief - for if everything had a set procedure, the danger didn’t have a chance to break through.  Slowly but surely, the more Amy stuck to the rules, the more the night terrors seemed to fade.  And with it, came a life built on order and discipline.  

And then, along came Jake.  And suddenly the straight and narrow didn’t seem so appealing.  

There had been a part of her that had expected the nightmares to return when she starting dating him - when the rules began to bend, and the sharp edges of her future plans began to soften.  Instead, she slept peacefully: sometimes dreaming of sweeter moments between the two of them, other times simply content to feel his presence next to her.  Truth be told, the terrors continued to stay far away until Jake was in Witsec - when the cold and otherwise empty sheets would wrap around her feet, gripping her to the mattress as horrifying images of Jake in endlessly dangerous situations in unknown locations attacked her repeatedly.  Towards the end of their separation, pillows that only smelled faintly of him were pulled closer as the hours of sleep grew lesser, and after his return, and her screams would keep them awake, she’d had to explain it all. 

But even as she told him of her fears - even as she described the imagery her mind would play in a loop, Amy found herself feeling less and less afraid of them.  And as the weeks wore on, and the confusing period of readjustment that resulted from Jake returning to her life played itself out, the terrors began to fade, and Jake vowed to her that she would never need to worry about them again.

Yet here they were, on the eve of his final court hearing, and Amy could feel the flames of fear begin to flicker again.  Because even with the knowledge that Matthew Langdon was safely tucked into a Safe House downtown, resting ahead of his surprise testimony in the morning, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Hawkins’ reign of terror was far from over.

Letting out an exhausted sigh as her breathing finally slows down, Amy flops back down onto the mattress, body turning towards Jake’s as their hands separate.  He runs a hand across his face in a half-hearted attempt to wipe away the tiredness, and studies her carefully when he’s done.  “You sure you’re okay now, babe?”

Amy looks across at him, at this man that had transitioned from annoying coworker to best friend to boyfriend so seamlessly that she struggles to remember a time when his hand didn’t belong in hers, and she nods.

“I’m so sorry for waking you,” she whispers.

One side of his mouth lifts up into an almost convincing smile.  “You didn’t.  I was already awake.”  She waits, knowing by now that sometimes Jake just needs a little more time to find the right words.  Instead, he shrugs.  “Couldn’t sleep.”  

She can feel a thousand unsaid words hanging above them.

Her left hand stretches the short distance, resting against his bicep before running along the dip in his arm.  “We’re going to prove your innocence, Jake.  Tomorrow.  This is all going to be over.”

He nods his head slowly, and as her eyes acclimate better to the darkness, she notices the puffiness around his eyes, and realises with a sinking heart that he had been crying.  “I just …”  His breath comes out in a shudder, and she scoots closer until her forehead is resting against his.  “I don’t want to lose this.”  

They’d made love earlier that evening, neither of them willing to voice the reason behind their passionate kisses, not ready to acknowledge that this wasn’t the same as all the others - that this might be the last time, for a long time, or maybe ever.  And while she’d thrown on his old academy shirt afterwards, because Always Cold Amy was a nickname that she could not shake, their legs had remained bare underneath the blanket, and she wraps hers completely around him now, pulling herself closer until there was nowhere else to go.  

“I know,” she whispers, pulling away slightly so that she can run her thumb along his brow bone, graduating to his forehead to rub away the lines of worry.  “But you’re not going to, Jake.  I meant what I said in the car.  Whatever happens tomorrow.  I’ll wait for you.”

Jake shakes his head, wrapping his right arm around her waist.  His touch is warm, and always welcome.  “It could be 15 years, Ames.  Or more.  I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me.  I’m telling you.”  His moves his other hand out from under the pillow, seeking hers in return, and not for the first time she imagines a ring adorning his finger.  “You’re the love of my life, Jake Peralta.  I would wait an eternity for you.”  Their fingers intertwine, and she squeezes gently.  She knew that even with their best laid plans, there was a good possibility that tomorrow wouldn’t turn out the way they hoped.  And if there was anything he needed to know, it was this.  “Even if the next time we’re together I’m 75 years old, you’ve got cataracts and my boobs are down to my knees, I would still marry the heck out of you.  I will love you forever, Jake.”

The notion of forever had been something they had tiptoed around at the beginning of their relationship.  While both of them knew (pretty quickly, actually) that what they had together was far greater than anything either had known before, there was still an irrational fear that if one spoke to soon, they would spook the other, and ruin their greatest chance at happiness.  

It had taken four weeks in a prison in Texas, and six months playing pretend in Florida, before forever was the only thing on their mind.  

The change had been subtle, but permanent, and while The Question hadn’t been asked, they both knew what the answer would be.  They were, after all, each other’s soulmates.  (And the first time he’d whispered that word to her, curled up on the couch with the world on mute around them, her heart had landed somewhere amongst the stars.)      

He blinks, and in the close proximity Amy watches a tear escape, pulling her back to the present.  It slides along the edge of his nose uninterrupted, and in a moment Amy realises that no matter what terrifying things might enter her dreams, she could simply banish them with the flutter of her eyelids.  But for Jake, all of his worst fears were coming true right in front of him, and no matter how hard he blinked, they didn’t seem to be going away.  

Shuffling impossibly closer, Amy pulls him in for a kiss, the type of kiss that she can only hope conveys how much he means to him - how certain she is that he is the only one for her, and that regardless of whatever happens tomorrow, they will get through it together.  Because no matter the problem, the love they have for each other is always going to be the answer.  

“I love you so much, Ames.  And … I’m so sorry that I’m putting you through this.”  His voice is shaky, the fear and despair evident, and she’s overcome with the need to just hold him close until everything wrong simply melted away.  

“I love you too, Jake.  But you don’t need to apologise for this.  No path in life is ever smooth, and this is just another bump in our road.”  She says it loud, as clearly as she can, in case it becomes a memory he clings to.  And then a sly grin crosses her face.  “Apologies in advance for the saggy boobs, though.  I know how much you’re a fan of them.”  She whispers, still in close proximity, and his laughter breaks through the silence.  

“I’m a big fan of you, Ames.  I love you so much.  And I love you even more for making a joke about your boobs right now.  You are literally the perfect woman.”  His smile is bright, though brief, and his hand rests against the small of her back when he pulls her in for another kiss.  

The worry is still there on his face when he pulls away, and Amy knows that’s to be expected.  But the only thing uncertain about their future is when it will begin.  They will put on a false bravado in the morning, announce their surprise witness and hope for the best - and ultimately, that is all they can do.

She runs her hand through his hair, sighing contentedly when Jake drops his head to her chest, grip still firm around her waist.  It isn’t long before his breathing is slow and deep, a sure-fire sign of him sleeping, and she follows his lead, fingers still curling around his strands.  

He would be gone by tomorrow afternoon, and with him he takes her heart, but even as she cries herself to sleep in their too-large-for-one bed, Amy knows that there could be no nightmares that evening.  Her greatest terror, after all, had already come to life.  

And she was going to fight like hell to prove it wrong.  

[calamxty-a]

『 ┍━━━━━━━»•» @fallesto​ // from michikatsu «•«━━━━━━┑ 』

Muzan-sama

I know I should not write to you.

I know it is wrong and dangerous, but I have taken great care to have this delivered to you.

Destroy it afterwards, for your own safety.

I hold great fear within my heart. That I have to leave you and go to battle with my father and to know that my father mocks me constantly.

That I will die without ever proving myself. That my victory years ago as a boy with you, was nothing more than a fluke, something that was aided by the gods themselves and not by you.

You saved my life.

I have never forgotten this.

It has not once left my mind.

Even when the years turned.

I keep going back to that day, when we were happy, free and we had everything we ever wanted as well. What they did to you afterwards, how they hurt you and made me stand and watch.

I wish I were fighting them now.

I am a man now, I am not that scared little boy from years ago who stood by and let you get hurt. I will always obey each and every one of your commands, but never that one, never again will I let anyone hurt you.

I am going to fight hard, not for your father, not for your brother, not for the people were are meant to protect, but for you.

I will be so far away from you, but that only means it will be a new place to be within. That means new villages, new ports, new markets.

I already have gifts for you, I will look forward to getting more for you as well. I cannot send them, it is too dangerous, but I will deliver them to you in person.

So that I can see your smile.

I pray for your safety and improvement on your health every single night and when my blade tastes blood, I will offer it up to you as well, these lives I will take, I give them to you, not the gods, not my lord, but you. That it might, lighten your burden a little.

Be well.

Always..

-

Your samurai…

But Muzan never destroyed his letters. They were always tucked away, under a piece of loose tatami flooring--between there and the baseboards. Afterwards, he coughed and wheezed but those letters and small trinkets were safe.

Michikatsu-kun,

I have faith that my samurai will return home. I’ve always admired them for their courage and valor--as well as their ability to overcome everything that’s been placed against them. 

Your enemies will fall, the same as the others and your talents will bring you home. (to me, left unsaid)

One day, I shall accompany you into the light as a true lord would. That day--the day in which we can stand at each other’s sides will please me more than no other. Through our childhood, we learned that sometimes dreams are just that--dreams. But I’m quite certain that this will become a reality, even if I have to will it into existence myself. I never forget. And I never forgive. It is a cruel, harsh way, but one made by those that came before. It is the one lesson I will keep.

Those who have wronged us will pay, with interest.

As my samurai, you know of my vow to you.

I cannot imagine the horrors you live through and the battles you’ve fought, but I extend my compassion to you, as well as the little strength I have. Know that if I were to have the ability, I would be the one commanding you. I would be the one at your side. I would not leave the battlefield and allow those under me to take this fight on their own. (unlike my father, left unsaid)

The things you’ve spoken about--the things you’ve bought. I wish for you to show them to me in person. I will surely smile when you wear the decorations upon your hair and your being. As such, this means you must return to me safe, live and above all, whole.

I care for you.

I care little of my burdens-- they leave and come, as with the tides, dictated solely by the moon. But I will accept those that you’ve killed, that you’ve felled. There is no greater compliment than to be the one you consider above all others. (do you believe me to be your god? it was left unwritten, but implied.)

Michikatsu-kun. 

Come home to me.

--

Kibutsuji Muzan

Your Lord.

[my-miraculous-headcanons]

The White Knight and His Queen Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [AO3]

Chat Noir finds himself sitting rather awkwardly beside Marinette’s father at the dinner table. It’s crowded with a wide assortment of foods, and while he’s practically drooling at the sight, he can’t find it in himself to start eating when he’s feeling like he shouldn’t even be here at all.

Tom’s reaction to Chat Noir made sense. Sabine’s was downright bizarre, and certainly out of character, if Marinette’s expression was anything to go by. She’s been staring at her mother as if the woman’s been replaced by an alien fake for the last ten minutes.

“I made all of your favorites, dear,” Sabine says, still arranging the plates so that there’s more room on the table. “Tofu spring rolls, steamed salmon, sesame balls, pork dumplings— oh, don’t worry about having to eat that if you can’t, Chat Noir, we also have chicken dumplings.”

Chat blushes at that, realising he made a face. Pork dumplings are not kosher.

“And I even bought some of those dolmas you love so much! Didn’t have time to make those from scratch, but I have a feeling you would have preferred the store-bought ones anyways.”

As Marinette’s mother continues to list all the food spread out, Chat finds himself glancing towards the TV not far from the table. Tom had turned it on for background noise, he said. So when everyone starts eating, the silence doesn’t feel awkward. 

It’s an old Italian movie he doesn’t really understand. Well, Tom probably understands it, so it may not completely be just background noise. Personally, he would have chosen the news, but—

Oh. Now that’s an idea.

“Um, Monsieur Dupain?”

Tom quickly turns and grins at him with a fanboyish glee, probably once again fantasizing about the Dupain-Noir bakery now that the hero and his daughter had gotten akumatised together. 

He doesn’t know how to break it to Tom that he’s far more likely to take Marinette’s last name than the other way around. Not that... he’s ever thought of it, of course. Not deeply, at least. Only once or twice. He might have doodled it once in his notebook during class, out of curiosity. Because he definitely does not have a crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, since he likes La—

Wait. 

“Uhum,” his voice cracks as he tries very hard to brush away the realisation, attempting to make a polite request. “Would it be alright if I could change the channel to the news? Since Ladybug hadn’t used her restoration magic, so—”

“Ah, of course, of course! Don’t worry, son, I’ll find a good station.”

It takes only a few seconds before Nadja Chamack’s familiar face lights up on the screen. Just beside her, there’s clear image of their akuma.

Whoa... 

Nothing about their akuma screams evil or destructive, not at first, second, or third glance. Marinette’s hair is done up into a woven bun, with delicate pink butterfly pins scattered about it. She wears no mask, eyes wide open and chin raised as if to command a crowd. Her gown reminds him of the historically accurate redraw of Princess Aurore, except a lighter, gentler pink. Her dress is that of a kind and noble Princess, and yet, her expression and the way she holds herself demands a respect worthy of a Queen. 

He, in contrast, is dressed like a kind of knight he’s never quite seen before. A skintight white fabric covers his body, with a white metal breastplate woven into the material, as well as plates around his arms, shoulders, and legs. There’s flaws in the design, gaps between the metal plates that could easily be pierced through, but something about that seems like a dare. His yellow eyes scream the same thing his armor does. Come and try it. He stands behind Marinette, a rapier at his side. 

In the picture, there are many civilians on either of their sides. None of them are injured or frightened, simply standing and staring at the pair, staying out of their way as they march through the streets.

He forgets to listen to what Nadja is saying, and as a result is startled when the image suddenly takes up the whole screen, turning into a video. He briefly glances away and turns to look at Marinette, who also looks as though she had been startled out of a trance.

“Oh, I remember seeing this playing live,” Sabine says, noticing where the children’s attention is at. “I was so worried. I knew my baby was smart, and paired with a superhero, I thought you would be unstoppable. I was scared Hawkmoth was actually going to win, this time. Can you believe it? You two sure showed me, of course.”

What was that supposed to mean, exactly? He wants to ask, but something definitely seems odd about this situation, and he isn’t sure if he should admit that he doesn’t remember a thing. Sabine is making it sound like they were easy akuma to beat, that Marinette wasn’t smart, that his power wasn’t so great. 

The fact that he had a sword was an easy enough reason for him to believe that he most certainly was not easy to beat. Not with his experience. And Marinette being Ladybug, the other half to his whole, there was no way they weren’t a total nightmare. 

But there’s definitely something he’s missing. Something confusing.

Why were they simply walking through the streets at such a leisurely pace? Where were they going? Why hadn’t they simply given Hawkmoth their Miraculous yet? Why were they not causing a havoc, destroying everything in their path, making the public bend to their will?

What were they doing?

The video continues on, finally revealing exactly where the dual akuma is heading. They make it to a platform where the Mayor is standing, looking nervous, but not running away. The knightly version of him holds a hand out for his lady, and he politely helps her up the steps.

The camera zooms in as Marinette gets behind a microphone. Chat belatedly realises that the video actually has audio, but everyone had remained completely silent as Marinette had made her way onto the stage. 

“This part was clever of you, sweetheart,” Sabine says, smiling and kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “You really fooled everyone in Paris.”

Fooled? This was a trick, then? Didn’t Sabine imply earlier that Marinette was not as cunning as an akuma than she was normally?

When Marinette speaks, it’s almost as though the earth itself had gone quiet.

“What you see before you, today, is the White Knight, and I, his Queen. We have one goal in mind. A Miraculous we must obtain. We will find it whether this holder reveals themselves or not. We will battle them until our very last breaths. We will bring Paris into a peace it had not experienced since the beginning this war had begun.”

A shiver goes through his body, and if it weren’t for the fact that he knew who Marinette truly was, he knows he would have been absolutely terrified for his Lady. If it weren’t for a fact that Marinette was Ladybug herself, he would have believed that this, the Queen, was talking about defeating Paris’ last standing hero, fully confident in their ability to take them down, marking the defeat of good in a war against evil.

But she can’t possibly be talking about Ladybug, that much he knows now. No, while the entirety of Paris must have thought as such, she must have been talking about someone else, a different Miraculous user. This was the trick Sabine was talking about.

He presses a hand to his suit’s pocket, feeling the indent of the Butterfly brooch. 

This wasn’t simply a trick to fool Paris.

This was a trick to fool Hawkmoth. 

The pieces are clicking into place, one by one.

“I have one message for you, our final foe,” the Queen says. “We will defeat you. Your life will be spared, despite the numerous reasons it shouldn’t be. I am a merciful Queen, after all. But you will be defeated, as swiftly and painlessly as possible. In fact...”

The Queen’s lips crook into a smile, confident and determined. Behind her, her White Knight grins.

“You won’t even know what hit you until it’s too late.”

[aweebwrites]

Celestial Influence 7 pt2

Zane debated if he should bring Echo along with him to meet up with the ninja. He's been doing well these past two days. He had nightmares of loneliness Zane's been soothing with a cold kiss before they could get worse though. The first day, he would get anxious if he wasn't always in his line of sight. It took Zane leaving an ever present aura of cold for Echo to feel at ease while he was busy. He's adjusting well to his upgraded body at least. Zane had kept some of their father's handiwork but altered most of it. It also helped him realise the powers they held surpassed simple elemental and creative properties. They had the power to partially or completely alter living and non-living things. That should have been apparent with his alteration of the Falcon but it's so much more apparent with Echo.

He had wanted to keep his appearance relatively the same but make him stronger, resilient to damage and independent of upgrades. He succeeded. The material he replaced Echo's bronze exoskeleton with was far superior while remaining close in colour. His face lacked the obvious seams he had previously, making Echo resemble him more than ever. His eyes were brighter and golden in colour, to match his heart metaphorically. He was a sponge for information and curious, always willing to help.

'I am built to protect those who cannot protect themselves.' He had once said.

The words struck Zane deep. It was noble of their father, noble of him. He couldn't dally for longer. He had to meet the others. He decided then.

"Echo." Zane says as he stood, watching as he looked up at him from his place on the couch, watching Tai-D bustle around with cleaning. "Get ready. We'll be leaving shortly. I'd like for you to meet my friends." He says and that caught Echo's interest.

"Are they powerful like you, brother?" Echo asked as he looked up at him.

"Yes. But I've known them long before these powers. Now go on." Zane urged and he nods, taking off to his room to change.

_____

Unsurprisingly, they all arrived at the same time, with Lloyd, Garmadon and Wu sitting on the steps in front of the door to the inside.

"Who's that?" Jay was the first to ask, noticing that Zane wasn't alone.

"He looks a lot like you…" Lloyd pointed out and the others nodded their agreement.

"That's because he's my brother." Zane says lightly and Echo shifts with unease, not sure how to respond and react to so many new faces. "His name is Echo Zane. Our father left him behind in the tower." He explained.

"N-nice to meet you…" He says quietly, holding onto Zane's hand tightly.

"Nice to meet you too." Nya says with a smile.

"Any brother of Zane's is a brother of ours." Kai grinned.

"Well said Kai." Wu says with a nod of approval.

"We can't wait to properly meet you Echo." Lloyd says as he got up and walked over to the team, his gi appearing in his person as he did. "But right now, we have to go. There's trouble in Ninjago." He told them and they grew serious.

"Echo." Zane spoke as he looked towards his brother who looked up at him with large golden eyes. "I will be leaving for a bit. Please stay here with Sensei Wu and Garmadon. They will look after you until I get back." He says and Echo nodded, understanding without actually knowing what his brother needed to do.

He just knew it was important he let him do so without hindrance. 

"Alright. I'll be here when you get back!" Echo says with a wide smile and Zane returned it with a fond one.

He then turned to his friends. 

"Let's go." He told them and they nodded, taking Jay's hands then each other's. 

They then vanished in a flash. Echo turned to the two he was left in the care of, not sure how to proceed. 

"I hope you like Mahjong." Wu says lightly as Garmadon helped him up and Echo ran a search for the term, smiling once results showed that it was a game.

"I've never played but I would like to try." He days, walking towards the two elders. 

____

"Next to New Ninjago City, Jamanakai village is always under some duress." Nya says as they watched from the cover of cloud as people panicked and ran, the bandits invading the village creating mayhem and fires that Bolobo could hardly fight against.

"Very true. Nya, some rain if you would?" Zane prompted and she grinned.

"I've got you." She says, summoning her trident.

She then gave it a whirl then struck the cloud they stood on. Immediately, the clouds began thickening and darkening, gathering together with her steady supply of moisture to prepare for heavy rainfall.

"Bolobo uses nature so I'll deal with this one." Lloyd says as he stood up.

They nodded, watching as he vanished, the rain starting up then.

"The air charge is just perfect for a bit of reaping…" Jay grinned then stood up.

They watched as he reached a hand out, lightning immediately rushing up from the ground into his palm, his body absorbing it all with ease. He did that with intent, the force of the sudden upthrust of energy as well as the deafening thunder that followed startled a bandit long enough to allow a small family to escape their clutches.

"Looks like Lloyd found the ring leader." Cole says as they like down at the village from the eye of the storm, not seeing him but sensing where he was.

"He's waiting for Bolobo to use his powers again before she makes his move." Nya commented, leaning against the hilt of her trident as she watched as well. "But his hands are a little full at the moment." She pointed out and they dashed their eyes to where Bolobo was being held down by several bandits, his staff knocked from his hand.

"I'll take care of it." Zane says, summoning his bow.

He pulled back on the string as he aimed, the ivory arrow appearing as he did. He released then with a breath out and they watched as the arrow whistled through the air, down to where Bolobo was being beat down. It struck the ground then, confusing the bandits as it vanished but then ice grew from the spot outwards, encasing all but Bolobo in its freezing grip. The elemental stood there, completely shocked as his arms were still being held by the frozen solid bandits. A scream echoed and he snapped out of it, pulling away then grabbing his staff. The moment he got used his powers was the moment nature unleashed, strange plants sprouting tron the ground, not his staff to capture every single bandit in the village, even the iced over ones. The plants coiled around them to their necks and Bolobo stares, the small plant from his staff falling off. He couldn't have done that. He can't do all this. He knew it and yet… He recalled the ice and looked back to the slowly melting bandits.

How… What happened here?

He looked up once the rain stopped then blinked at the closing hole in the clouds.

What was that? Was it divine intervention? Or… 

He recalls the freeze that had happened a few months back and frowned.

The ninja? 

He didn't have time to ponder further. The villagers were rushing towards him with thanks on their tongues. It made him uncomfortable. He knew he didn't do all this and he didn't want to accept thanks for what he hadn't done. Yet still… He didn't think they'd believe him otherwise…  He offered the villagers tight smiles and nods. He had to report this to the others… 

_____

"Work's not done yet. We have multiple breakouts across Ninjago. Can you sense them?" Lloyd asked as they continued to leave Jamanakai village behind, soaring through the clouds.

"Yes. Recognisable though negative and malicious energies. There are smaller occurrences the other elemental masters or the settlement leaders can handle but as of now, there are four major uprisings we need to attend to, one not yet in motion." Zane spoke and they nodded. "To the south has a higher negative output than the other two. Lloyd, Nya. You head there. Jay, Cole, you two head north west. Kai and I will head further north. We will all regroup at New Ninjago City." He instructed and they nodded, not quite looking forward to the city but not allowing their discomfort to stop them from giving a helping hand.

"Afterwards, we need to work on a faster means of travel. Teleporting even." Kai says, crossing his arms.

"Yeah. I mean, sure my lightning allows me to travel at the same speed of light but it's not quite the same as instantly being at the place I want to be." Jay says with a shrug and Lloyd nods.

"Fair enough. For now, let's move out." He instructed and they nodded, breaking off.

"Do you really think we can pull of something as complex as teleportation? Bending the very fabric of time and space?" Nya asked Lloyd as they headed to their location.

"We live in an age of endless evolution. The only thing that isn't possible is what we haven't thought of yet." Lloyd says quietly, having something specific in mind as he said the words.

If the words he spoke are true then… There's something he'd like to try… And he had a feeling it would require all of them.

______

"Of course it's Kryptarium Prison. When isn't it?" Jay says dryly as they approached.

"There's always some flaws to these things. It's just that whoever designed it was an architectural genius but was also clearly not sober." Cole commented as they swooped in,  landing on the roof of the prison soundlessly. "They need to be given a raise. Then fired." He continues, as they walked along to find a way in without damaging the building. 

"Out of a volcano." Jay agrees and Cole paused, looking back at Jay.

"Really? Volcano's the best you could come up with?" Cole asked dryly. 

"Saying cannon is too lame, too common. Besides, how cool would it be to actually launch something out of a volcano?!" Jay grinned and Cole narrowed his eyes. 

"Don't think about it. We aren't launching anything from a volcano. We need to be responsible now more than ever." Cole lectured as he kept a keen ear put, kneeling once he was sure he was over the area of disturbance. "The riot's just below. They've almost broken through." He told Jay who nods, summoning his nunchucks.

"And I wouldn't launch anything out of a volcano." Jay huffed, striking a signal pole with the lightning from his nunchucks, sending it down to the main cells where the riot was to render all the villains unconscious. "Nothing big anyway." He says to himself very quietly.

"I heard that." Cole says, throwing him an unimpressed look.

"Ok, ok! Jeez." Jay huffed.

They both blinked, hearing a familiar growl.

"Of course lightning doesn't work on the big guy." Jay sighed to himself. "What do we do?" He asked, looking to Cole as he frowned.

The larger male only sighed, placing his hands on his hips. 

"Nothing to do but fight him head on." Cole says and Jay groaned then paused.

"Now that it crossed my mind, this is a great way to check just how much stronger you've gotten." He pointed out, walking towards the edge of the large roof, Cole following behind him.

"Huh. You're right." Cole says after a moment of consideration. "Can you run interference while I take him on?" He asked Jay who grinned.

"Leave it to me."

________

"These clowns are still around?" Kai huffed, spotting the SOGs from a distance where they were attempting to take over a small city.

"It appears so. They're damaging property at a rapid rate. The sooner we take them down, the better." Zane says, analysing the situation for the best means of how to do so.

"Here come the other elementals." Kai says, spotting them riding in, the vehicles they were driving in on looking a lot like Pixal's handy work. "Tox, Neuro, Gravis and Chamille. Do you think they can handle this?" He asked Zane as they watched from the top of a nearby skyscraper, feet hanging off the edge.

"We'll see. This is supposed to be us helping after all, not saving everyone for them." Zane reminded and Kai nodded, watching them jump right into it.

"Rookie mistake leaving your back wide open like that." Kai commented after watching Tox getting struck from behind. 

"I'm sure she'll learn eventually." Zane says lightly, observing Gravis using his gravitational powers to throw the SOGs off.

"Yeah, I can see that." Kai agreed, watching her cover her back with her poison.

In fact, she was spreading it out, using just enough to weaken them instead of seriously hurting them with it. Neuro was struggling to focus long enough to be of use. It was hard to when they knew to keep him distracted. They had him cornered, weapons ready to hurt. Kai looked over to Zane.

"Hey Zane. Show me how to aim your bow." Kai says and Zane summoned his bow without question.

"Hold the riser right here. Make sure not to block the slight window. You should look there while aiming." Zane instructed, adjusting Kai's posture and hold. "Pull back the sting like so." He says, pulling back the string with him, his hand over Kai's on the raiser.

The arrow that appeared was swirled with red and white, a combination of both of their powers. They both released with Zane's order, the arrow shooting towards the group seconds away from pouncing on Neuro. It struck the ground between the two and exploded in a burst of steam, shards of ice taking down the group before melting from the lingering heat from the steam. By the time it cleared, Neuro alone was left standing, wholly confused. What was that? He looked up towards the arrows trajectory but saw no-one. He frowned deeply. He was grateful for the help but he had a feeling… He shook his head then focused on the group of SOGs swarming his friends despite their sluggish movements.

________

"This one is right up our alley." Nya says with a smirk, looking down at the ghostly infestation of a mountain village.

"Yeah. But we have to be careful. Griffin, Shade and Ash are here." Lloyd says, spotting them.

"Griffin's having a little too much fun." Nya says dryly from their place standing on a higher point on the mountain.

Said elemental was darting around and laughing up a storm as he sprayed water from his water gun, hitting only a small number of them.

"For now, we observe and let him find out on his own that there's a time and place for everything." Lloyd says, taking a seat and Nya sat with him, a hand on her cheek.

"At least their numbers are few. They must be left overs from the Cursed Realm." Nya commented, watching them attempt to corner the ghosts but they lacked deepstone and the ghosts could always dodge their water.

They're only good due to how difficult it would be to possess them. Ash just turns to smoke, Shade morphs into shadow and they can't catch Griffin.

"Some of them possessed a few villagers. They won't win this one without help." Lloyd says to himself then straightened his back. "Some Deepstone weapons should give them the upper hand." He says as green light traveled up his arms, up his neck and on his face.

Horns protruded from his forehead as Nya watched him gather his energy, felt the power radiating from him. He them thrusted his green energy downwards, the glow splitting off into three then fading to reveal shurikens very similar to what they used while defending Ninjago from the Preeminent. Each took out at least one of the green ghostly figures before lodging themselves in the hands of each elemental.

"Woah!" Griffin says,  coming to a stop next to the others, following their lead to look over the weapon they now held.

"Where did they come from?" Ash asked, turning it over, a small frown on his face.

Shade was suspicious. He looked around then up the mountain but saw no-one. It must be one of them. Where did they even get the deepstone needed to make these? Did they steal it? Shade wouldn't put anything past them. Not after all they've done. A growl caught their attention and they spun around, eyes widening once they came face to face with a ghost. Or launched itself at them but instead of possessing one of them, it was harshly reflected.

"It reflects too? Now I know something's up." Shade says with a frown. 

"Well figure that out after we get rid of these guys." Ash says then tossed his shuriken at a ghost, marvel once it followed after it, even after it turned a corner, only getting faster and faster.

Shade narrowed his eyes but complied. If those bastards think that he can be easily moved by something as superficial as new weapons, they best think again.

________

The giant Stone Warrior roared as it swung a punch at Cole who took it head on, not even budging from his spot standing before him, the impact ricocheting through the soldier's arm and he growled as he stepped back.

"Well. Looks like I really am stronger than I was." Cole grinned as the giant seethed.

"You better hurry. The other ems should be here any moment now." Jay says, watching from above, cross-legged mid air.

"Right." Cole nodded then summoned his scythe.

He then leapt at the giant warrior,  dodging his swords then swung with a grunt. Everything stood still as Cole floated back but then there was a loud thud as one of the Stone Warrior's hands holding his sword fell from his body, leaving the warrior to bring as he held onto the stub of what was left of his arm.

"Either you stay in your cell from now on or I'll finish what the Overlord started. For good." Cole warned and the Warrior growled then retreated into his cell slowly, green eyes malicious but too fearful to attack again.

Cole nodded then lands on his feet. A tap of the base of his scythe to the ground had metallic bars shooting up, locking the giant in.

"That's that. Let's get outta here Jay." Cole's says, looking up at him and Jay nodded, floating down to hold his shoulder before they disappeared.

Just then, Karloff rushed in- only to blink at all the prisoners inside their cells unconscious, a large stone hand still clutching an even larger stone laying on the quadrangle. What happened here?...

______

The group met up on the outskirts of the vast New Ninjago City, tense and uncertain. Their last encounter with them wasn't very good after all. But there were unnatural forces stirring up havoc in the city. They had to help.

"We gather them all in one place, then take them down in a clean swoop." Kai instructed and they all nodded, taking off to different corners of the city.

Jay was the first to spot them. They looked like average Ninjagans but he could sense the change in their biology clearly. They were enhanced beings, mutated to mimic perfection he can guess. Little did whoever's behind this know that there's no such thing. They were supposed to keep out of sight but considering that he could sense over 20 in this area alone, that was out of the question.

'Where do we lead these guys?' Jay asked through thought, knowing already that Lloyd connected them all.

'To the park. It should be able to hold them all and it's away from the population.' Was Zane's response and Jay nodded, using his lightning to block them from attacking any more civilians.

"Time to see what these powers can really do." Jay says with a grin, eyes starting to glow as blue light crept up his arms, all the way to his face.

He then rocketed down to the ground, creating a large energy outburst once he touched down, careful not to damage any infrastructure or bystanders.

Kai on the other hand held both swords in hand, a slash of them creating a wall of fire to prevent them from moving any further into the city.

"Haven't you noticed by now? No-one who tries to take over the city ever succeed. At least not for long. You all think that a little experimentation that gave you all a small boost in strength and resistance makes you invincible." Kai says as the very much conscious and willing participants of the experiments glared up at him, throwing whatever they could but they never make contact with Kai's person.

He chuckled, holding his swords defensively as she hovered just above them.

"You think you all have true power? Laughable. I'll show you true power." Kai says as his skin and eyes started to glow. "Ninja go!" He yelled, starting up his Spinjitzu but it was noticeably different.

For one, it was massive, the size of a full tornado, his fire roaring and raging as the enhanced stepped back, eyes wide. A daring few tried to still charge- only to end up burned and thrown back. He began to move towards them, forcing them back into the city, flames appearing at other road routes and alleys to prevent them from breaking up. The non-enhanced civilians of Ninjago watched the spectacle with wide eyes. None of them had ever seen such a spectacle before, such raw power. The fire from his Spinjitzu looked like it could burn the sky if they wished. Such an inferno that is Kai's Spinjitzu should have burned them all up already, should have them feeling its intense heat. A few of them even ended up in its path, engulfed in flames. But they were unharmed. The flames acting as if they weren't there. There was no heat. The power and control just this former ninja had was incredible.

Soon enough, more elemental tornadoes popped up around the city, water from the waterspout lashing the enhanced, pushing them toward the park they were all converging on, the lightning vortex zapping those it chased to keep them on route. The dust devil stung its victim with sand and small rocks that struck pain into their toughened skins, keeping them on their right path as well. The largest green vortex simply pushed them along as it closed in, its path clear and uninterrupted to the park. Zane watched them all for a moment while stood against a large group of them. He nodded, taking position to also use his Spinjitzu when suddenly, he sensed something fast approaching from behind. He glanced over his shoulder then frowned, seeing the Samurai X VXL. This encounter will be interesting to say the least. He watched unphased as her vehicle vaulted over his head via the ice that appeared to protect him on its own, skidding to a stop just between him and the enhanced. He watched still as she turned the VXL towards him, no doubt glaring behind her mask. 

"What are you all doing here?! We don't need you or your help! All you're doing right now is causing mass hysteria! Leave the city at once or I'll be forced to defend it!" Pixal yelled at him, gripping the steering wheel of her VXL tightly.

"There was hysteria before we arrived. We can't counteract it right now. We need to focus our energies on getting rid of the superhuman first." Zane says calmly, keeping his eyes on her while simultaneously keeping an eye on the enhanced behind her.

"The other elemental masters and I can take care of it!-"

"It doesn't seem that way." Zane says, extending his sight to Skylor, Dareth and Ronin who were being pummeled, no matter what they did by the few enhanced already in the park. "I'm sorry. I won't allow you to delay me any longer. The others have been doing their part and I must do mine." He says quietly, eyes glowing with his power.

Pixal gritted her teeth then slammed her hand down on the launch button on the control panel. Her eyes widened once the missiles aimed for thin air, detonating against the ice wall before her. She grunts as the force of the explosion shoved her Samurai VXL back but left the wall of ice untouched. She opened the hatch then looked around in alarm at the whistling sound, seeing the large vortex of frosty air and ice herding the enhanced towards New Ninjago City's park. She clenched her fist. They were for strong. She couldn't hope to stop them. She hopped back into her Samurai VXL then turned around, racing towards their converging point.

She could try though.

__________

Echo looked over the board with extreme focus. The Mahjong Mr Wu had suggested had tiles that were almost exact. Even he, a Nindroid had to look closely. His ears picked up low talking however and he looked behind him, at the TV that was on but turned down low.

"What are those?" Echo asked, looking at the swirling pillars in different colours.

"The Ninja." Garmadon says, grabbing the remote with his tail then taking it in hand to turn it up. 

"-ports say that the former ninja are the ones inside those vortexes. You heard that right! The very same former heroes who brought Ninjago itself to its knees then disappeared." Gale reported from what looks like Borg Tower.

Not even she was brave enough to get in the middle of the ninja for a scoop. 

"They speak as if they weren't the ones who demanded they disappear." Garmadon spoke with a growl of irritation, his tail thumping against the ground in irritation. "And former? They have never stopped being Ninja." He adds with a sneer, revealing thick fangs. 

"Be calm brother." Wu says, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Anger will neither change not help the ninja's situation." He soothed. 

Garmadon only growled, not happy about this in the slightest.

"I don't understand." Echo spoke up, looking to the elders. "They're helping them, aren't they? Zane did tell me of how their powers were the cause of the strange things I saw at the tower but they fixed it all and they're helping. Why do they hate them still?" He asked them and both elders shared a look.

"A life is a precious thing Echo. It's irreplaceable." Wu says tentatively. "... On the days the ninja took to unlock these powers deep inside them, several lives were forever lost." He told him and Echo frowned.

Zane had also told him that. But… He looked down at Tai-D that was snoozing next to him to recover energy. It never really dawned on him what that really meant until just now. He lost Tai-D once… He didn't want to lose him again. He did look back up at Mr Wu however.

"That's not true." Echo says, surprising and confusing both elders. "If they wanted to… They could bring anyone back. I'm not sure how I know that but I do." He told them and both elders looked daunted at this information.

"... Echo. You must never let anyone else know this. Keep that secret tighter than you would keep your life." Garmadon told him seriously and Echo nodded, wide eyed.

He understood why he had to however. If anyone else knew that, the ninja would never find peace. They would be constantly bombarded by threats and requests. It's just… Echo looked at the Mahjong tiles before him. Mr Garmadon was really intimidating! 

_______

All six vortexes came to a stop at the outskirts of the park, the enhanced all on the offensive now that they realise that they've been cornered in. One by one, the swirling vortexes disappeared, revealing their corresponding Ninja floating mid air.

'What's next?' Cole asked as he used his scythe to split an entire tree tossed in his direction. 

'Their strength comes from the experimentations they went through. If we remove whatever serum they were given, they would be normal civilians and the Ninjago police force as well as the Samurai can take over.' Zane explained through their mental link.

'How do we do that? The serum is infused with their DNA and had even altered it.' Nya pointed out, looking the enhanced over.

'Simple. We turn back time on them.' Lloyd provided, looking across the large park, his vision closing in on Zane. 'Zane, You focus on turning back time on them and I'll focus on keeping the effects on them alone. The test of you keep out everyone that isn't an enhanced.' He instructed, flying forwards, Zane doing the same.

'Pixal is determined, isn't she?' Jay says, spotting her coming his way without looking behind him.

'I'll take care of her. You guys get a barrier going.' Nya says, heading over to Jay's direction.

'Roger.' Kai nodded then focused his fire, molding and shaping it into a pyramid shaped barrier. "Out you go." He murmured as the barrier enveloped the enhanced but pushed out Ronin, Dareth and Skylor, despite Skylor dragging her feet in the grass. 

Cole and Jay followed suit, their barriers meeting as they expanded, merging and covering the entire park. Nya on the other hand threw out a wall of water to stop Pixal's missiles from touching Jay. Not that they would have reached him anyway.

"Sorry Pix. Can't let you-"

"Don't call me that!" Pixal yelled from her Samurai VXL, a glare on her face beneath her helmet. "None of you have any right to be here! Not after what you've all done! Not after all the pain you've put all of Ninjago through! None of you should have ever came back! We were all fine without the world ending threat you all pose! Go back to wherever the hell you disappeared to!" She yelled angrily, blasting multiple missiles and lasers at Nya who looked sad, watching her.

A wall of water erected her from the blow, the liquid wrapping around the attacks and dissolving the impact completely. Nya sighed softly then reopened her now glowing eyes, before reaching a hand out to Pixal's VXL. Pixal startles as her vehicle groaned before it lifted off the ground completely. She gritted her teeth then reached out to activate the mech update but she found herself unable to do so. The VXL opened suddenly and she found herself floating out, despite how much she tried to fight it.

"We aren't oblivious to the damage we've caused before. In fact, we're more aware of that than ever. We would have never come here or anywhere if we weren't positive we wouldn't cause damage." Nya spoke quietly as the water that protected her orbited her like a ring on a planet, an endless stream of water. "The past May be the past but we use it to influence our future. We can never give back the lives lost but we can preserve the ones still here. You may not trust us, especially after almost losing your father so many times because of us, but we cannot let you stop us from protecting Ninjago. Whether any of you like it or not, Ninjago's our home too. We'll do our best for it." She says quietly as Pixal watched her with narrowed eyes behind her helmet. 

"... Even if it means losing the friends we've come to know." Nya spoke, expression morphing from sad and hurt to cool.

Light from behind her caught Pixal's attention. She watched with wide eyes from the high altitude as Zane stood in the middle of the park, his hands glowing amber as he utilized the power of time reversal. Lloyd closed his eyes from above him then reopened them in gold, the green glow of his skin morphing to gold, the energy traveling up to his horns- then shattering them both. His golden glow was blinding, forcing Pixal to look away, missing as the gold seeped into Nya as well as all of the other ninja, all of them united as one. It was over as soon as it started, the light and the barrier fading as the ninja's original colours bled back into them. Zane held his head, blinking as the golden energy retreated back into Lloyd before looking up at him, ignoring the confused groans of the former enhanced around him.

Reversing their effects wasn't all that they just did. He floated up towards Lloyd as his golden hair paled back to its blonde colour, the others joining him.

"Lloyd…" Kai began and the blonde shook his head.

"We couldn't have done it if any of us disagreed. You all know that." Cole pointed out to them.

"The why and how doesn't concern me at all." Jay says, crossing his arms as he gained a serious look. "Question is… Did it work? Will it work?" He asked and they all looked uncertain.

"... Only time will tell." Zane says solemnly and they all floated there in silence…

Before they all burst out snickering. 

"You couldn't help yourself, could you?" Nya chuckled and Zane shrugged with a small smile.

"I just thought it was time to lighten up the mood." Zane joked and they all began laughing.

"Are we really doing the pun thing again?" Cole says, amused.

"We stopped? Shocker." Jay says with a grin and Kai snorted.

"That sucked Jay. Talk about a total burnout." Kai says, nudging Lloyd. 

"You're all dorks." Lloyd huffed at his friends, despite the smile on his face.

Sirens getting closer to their current location broke their happy spell. 

"Right. We should probably get out of here." Cole pointed out.

"Yeah." Nya agrees.

"Let's hold hands. The power of friendship will bring us home." Jay says with a grin and they all groaned.

"Jay, you watch way too much TV." Kai says as they all held hands.

"Agreed." Zane says dryly and Jay sick a tongue out at them before they all vanished in a large bolt of lightning.

Pixal watched as they did,  saw as they joked and laughed. She didn't know how to take it. On one hand, hope filled her at the chance that maybe things weren't so different, that they were better, that there was a chance they weren't the monsters her dreams made them out to be. But she wasn't foolish enough to put her faith in one measly act of goodwill. If they truly wished to gain Ninjago's forgiveness, they had a lot of work to do. With that, she began rounding up the formerly enhanced, the police soon joining her. 

___________

"Hey Lloyd. Why'd your horns break back there?" Jay asked once they arrived back at the Monastery.

"They were only temporary so they would have broken off eventually." Lloyd says as they walked inside, his fading back to their casual clothes.

"Huh? Really?" Cole asked, intrigued.

"How so?" Zane asked, curious.

"They were conductors. Or better yet, training wheels." Lloyd explained, surprising them further.

"Training wheels?! You mean-"

"That my powers were too intense from the beginning fore to handle right away? Yes." Lloyd finished for Nya as they walked in on an intense game of Mahjong.

"Good work today, ninja." Wu praised as he took up two tiles.

"I'll have their new mechs and vehicles out in a day or two so there's that." Nya says as she also picked up two tiles.

"I could get started on weapons for them too. Traditional of course. Cole can get me some decent ore and I'll set up a smithy at the fire temple." Kai offers, picking up four tiles.

"I haven't checked if I can make ore but it'll be good exercise, power wise." Cole hummed, taking up two tiles.

"I'll help Nya out with equipment." Jay offers, taking up eight tiles.

"I'll help out wherever I can, I guess." Lloyd shrugged, taking up two tiles as well.

"Good. The other elemental masters will eventually grow used to the routine and adapt. With your help, they will be able to do so sooner." Wu says, pecking up six tiles since the original game was thrown out the window.

"I wonder if they've figured out we helped them before…" Jay says thoughtfully, tapping a tile to his chin. 

_______

"I knew it had to be them." Shade says,  crossing his arms as all the other elemental masters met with Pixal who basically led then, giving them assignments and locations. "If they think anyone will forgive, they have another thing coming to them." He growled, hatred filling him from just speaking about them.

Knowing they helped them, knowing that they needed their help made him absolutely bitter. He didn't want anything to do with those monsters.

"I'm not happy about it either but we did need their help. How else would we have taken everyone on? All on the same day? No-one died today because of them." Neuro pointed out.

"You're just saying that because they saved your ass." Ash sneered and they all began to argue across the table, Pixal sitting at the head of it with her hands laced at her mouth.

"Enough!" She finally snapped and they all quieted down immediately. "It doesn't matter if we're happy about it or not. Nothing we do can stop them. They're too powerful. They're…" She frowned deeper

"They're unstoppable…" She whispered and there was silence all around. 

"That can't be true yo!" Griffin spoke up as he stood, hands planted firmly on the table, his posture brimming with defiance. "Nobody is unstoppable! We just gotta think outside of the box!" He proposed. 

"There's no box to think outside of." Pixal argued back, annoyed now. "They single handedly brought Ninjago to its knees in what totals in 5 minutes. 5 minutes! And they've only gotten stronger for what I've estimated." She says, turning around to bring up analytics and video playback of their stunts in New Ninjago City.

"People are starting to call them gods. Vengeful gods but deities nonetheless." She continued, turning back to them. "It isn't hard to see why. Their powers are like nothing we've ever encountered." 

"So what? You just want us to give up?!" Shade yelled, getting to his feet. "After everything they've done?! After all the lives they've taken?! After they murdered my family?!" He snarled at her and Pixal remained calm in the face of his anger.

"I never said that." Pixal says after s moment. "They're unbeatable but that doesn't mean that we give up or that we stop fighting. The people of Ninjago are depending on us. The best we can do is to get them out of harm's way if it comes to it." She told them and while none of them liked those facts, they nodded, knowing they had to.

They were the new hope of Ninjago. It's up to them to defend it until the end if it comes to it.

_________

"I don't know, this seems more up your alley Zane." Kai says as they all stood in the training yard.

"This isn't a small feat we're about to do Kai. Creating a means of reporting, moving instantly from one place to another is bound to be difficult, despite our power." Zane reminded him, Echo watching them from the steps along with Wu and Garmadon.

"Zane is correct." Wu says, tilting his rice hat back so he could see them properly. "Which is why it is best for you all to take things slowly. Much like Jay has access to Speed thanks to the awakening of your powers, lightning is truly his means of travel. Perhaps it isn't so impossible for you all to utilise your elements as travel." He suggests.

"I like the idea of that." Cole says with a smirk.

"So how do we do it Sensei Jay?" Nya asked and Jay blinked, caught off guard for a moment.

"Oh, uh. I just… Think of where I want to go and the route I'd take and I just… Go." Jay shrugged. 

The others looked at him for a while.

"That's it?" Zane asked, realising Jay wasn't going to say more.

"Well, yeah. That's it." Jay confirmed.

"No way." Kai immediately denied. 

"Yeah I'm with Kai on this one." Cole agrees, crossing his large, muscled arms over his chest. "It can't be that easy." He says, narrowing his eyes at Jay suspiciously.

"I'm serious! That's exactly how I do it!" Jay huffs in his own defense.

"He's right guys." Lloyd spoke up and they all looked to him. "I've traveled like Jay before. That's all it takes. Though, maybe focusing on your element too would help." He suggests.

"... Alright. If Lloyd says that's how then that's how." Nya says, crossing her arms as well. 

"Huh?! How come you guys believe Lloyd and not me?!" Jay whined and Cole snorts.

"The chances of Lloyd telling us a lie like you would to prank us is significantly lower." Zane explained and Jay pouts.

"Who wants to try it first?" Nya says and they all looked at each other.

"Guess I will." Kai says with a smirk then cracked his neck.

He then closed his eyes, breathing through his nose slowly. He pictured the Fire Temple, visualized the path there, thinking of his burning fire. He didn't feel any different. He sighed, opening his eyes in preparation to ask for some other tips- only to realise it had worked and he was at the fire temple.

Flare and Solaris blinked at him from their place playing on the bridge, surprised to see their creator appear in a burst of flames. They rushed over after the initial shock and Kai laughed once they tackled him, looking at his face as Spark bolted over from inside as well. Heath walked out moment after, tail swishing as he walked towards where his siblings were eagerly nuzzling their creator, purring happily.

"Go easy with the clothes yeah?" Kai laughed, pushing their snouts away. "I'm not home just yet. I'm sure I'll be back by tomorrow. I was just testing my powers out." He explained, stroking their snouts as they sat around him.

They gave disappointed whines but they understood that he had responsibilities aside from them.

"Heath, you'll keep taking care of them, right?" Kai asked him as they let him stand.

Heath only nodded once and Kai grinned, reaching out to pet him. Heath only opened his mouth and bit his hand.

"Ow! You jerk!" Kai hissed, rubbing his hand. 

Heath just gave him a cheeky look and gave sounds that equaled to him telling Kai he'll heal. Kai shot him a glare then bid his dragons goodbye before vanishing again, reappearing at the Monastery in a flare of fire.

__________

Part 2 Of This Chapter

[thesouthernpansy]

sacred geometry (2/?)

stanford pines/bill cipher chapter 2/? ford arrives at backupsmore university ready to put his head down and get lost in his classwork. his new roommate seems to have come prepared to haul him back out, again. that, and eat uncooked blocks of ramen. (it’s a college au, let’s crack some books!) don’t want to risk breaking the post by adding a link, but this story is also on ao3, same title, username thesouthernpansy ~

“’No more than two hours to complete’ my foot.” Ford quotes the physics manual with venom as he stalks out of the lab, doubling back briefly to shuck his gloves and slam them into the specialized waste receptacle. His lab partner follows him out, more subdued, wrangling the school-issued goggles over his glasses with some difficulty.

“'No more than two hours to complete' my foot.” Ford quotes the physics manual with venom as he stalks out of the lab, doubling back briefly to shuck his gloves and slam them into the specialized waste receptacle. His lab partner follows him out, more subdued, wrangling the school-issued goggles over his glasses with some difficulty.

“All's well that ends well, right? We got it to precipitate in the end.”

Ford takes in a sharp breath through his nose. “I suppose. Still, it shouldn't have been like pulling teeth and you know it, Fiddleford. The equipment in this place is a disgrace.”

“Can't even figure why the stock room is still holding on to all those thermometers if they all have air bubbles in the mercury,” agrees Fiddleford thoughtfully.

“Exactly! And how are we supposed to blaze a trail of scientific progress when we're working from texts that are barely a paleographic step past cuneiform tablets?”

Fiddleford shrugs a shoulder, pats Ford absently on the arm. “Good thing we're geniuses, huh?”

“Good thing,” agrees Ford, feeling the ire start to drain from him. He offers Fiddleford a small smile. “I'm fairly sure the Bunsen burner would have blown up in my face if you hadn't been here.”

“That wiring was a nightmare.” Fiddleford shakes his head, drops his labcoat into the designated bin. Ford follows suit, collecting his bag from the hook by the door as he passes it. They leave side by side in a tired, victorious silence.

Fiddleford McGucket was the first unexpected spot of good luck in Ford's otherwise disappointing college experience. They'd met weeks before the official start of classes, sitting for many of the same exemption exams that would allow them to skip the tedious introductory courses their majors otherwise required. There hadn't been time for much more than cursory introductions back then, but their test scores saw them thrown together in several of their classes after that, both of them inclined to gravitate towards a familiar face when the time came to choose partners for their inevitable labs.

And, as it turns out, Ford and Fiddleford are an exceptional compliment to one another intellectually. Ford is good with concepts, at ease with proofs and equations and long stretches of silence lost in his own mental map of even the most complicated and abstruse theories. Fiddleford excels in the tangible, mechanics and practical applications, the translation of the abstract into something he can hold in his hands.

Plus, speaking of hands. Ford is nearly certain Fiddleford had noticed his abnormality during their first meeting, but it hadn't actually come up until much later, when Ford's cursing as he struggled with a pair of latex gloves had made it obvious and unignorable. Fiddleford had looked over, frowned a little. Then he handed Ford the jar of sodium bisulfate he was struggling to open.

“How about a little help? I'd bet you dollars to donuts you could get a better grip on this than I can.”

That, Ford recalls, was the exact moment he'd started to consider Fiddleford a friend. He isn't sure he's ever truly had one, before. At least, not one that wasn't related to him, and that is a train of thought he refuses to follow any further.

Late autumn darkness has fully set across the campus by the time they step outside, chill and brittle and already heavy with the smell of coming frost. Ford digs his chin into the collar of his coat and squints up at the sky.

“Headed back to the dorms?” Fiddleford asks.

“The observatory, actually,” says Ford.

“Sure is a good night for it,” says Fiddleford amicably. “I didn't think it was still open this time of night, though.”

Ford clears his throat. “It isn't, technically. Professor Neilson loaned me the keys. I have, uh, there's a personal project I've been working on.”

The expression that jumps onto Fiddleford's face is excited and puzzlingly sly.

“You taking a girl up there?” he asks, nudging Ford with his elbow.

Ford startles, sputtering. “I am most certainly not.”

“Plenty of girls would find it real romantic,” Fiddleford tells him. He probably means it to be encouraging.

“No doubt they would find it much less romantic to be ignored for an hour while I take astronomical readings.” It comes out with more bite than intended, Ford's hands clenching into fists in his coat pockets. He can't explain why Fiddleford's assumption has thrown him so badly, but his whole body is prickling suddenly with nervous energy.

To his credit, Fiddleford doesn't seem thrown in the least.

“Maybe she'd surprise you,” he suggests. “Won't know until you try.”

“There's no girl, Fiddleford,” insists Ford.

“Okay, okay,” laughs Fiddleford. “My mistake, never mind.”

Ford expects him to elaborate, wishes he would, but nothing else comes. It gnaws at Ford, itchy and awkward in the way so many subtleties of everyday human interactions tend to do.

“Do I—have I been acting like there's someone?”

Fiddleford glances at him sideways, smirks. It's all but audible confirmation.

“There's been a little extra pep in your step. I'm not about to force you to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“I wouldn't know what to say,” says Ford honestly.

“Girls can be like that, sometimes,” sighs Fiddleford a little wistfully, and this time Ford lets the assumption slide. They're technically still having the same conversation, but Ford feels like he's holding onto his half of it by his fingernails.

The domed roof of Dithery Observatory is a welcome lifeline, cresting just above the concrete silhouette of the library. Ford peels away with a hasty farewell and a genial dismissal of his friend's 'if you ever want to talk about it'. What he wants is the silent, impassive company of a refracting telescope, the still peace of an empty space to himself, a vast spread of stars ready to spill its mysteries to the brilliant mind capable of cracking it open.

Clutching his borrowed ring of keys, Ford half-jogs the remaining distance to his destination. The metal teeth bite into his palm; it's grounding, a completed circuit between his body and his racing brain. He counts out his steps as he slows, the even cadence, no room for any extra pep, whatever that's even supposed to be.

Ford crosses the courtyard, and stops.

Even in the dim yellowy glow of the observatory's single ancient doorlight, it's clear that the door is open. Just an inch or so, like the last person in had tried to slam it shut behind themselves without knowing about the way the deadbolt sticks. Not Professor Neilson, then, not anyone Ford can think of who ought to have the authority to close the building for the night. Ford's thoughts list out the possibilities: vandals, some kind of fraternity-born prank, an illicit rendezvous like Fiddleford had been alluding to. The prospect of such misuse puts steel in Ford's spine as he goes in, making sure to shut and lock the door properly behind him.

“Hello?” he calls, rounding up the stairs. “Who's there?”

Ford finds no signs of life as he makes it to the main observation deck. At first, the same seems to hold here as well. Then something in the instruments booth catches his eye. Through the window comes a brief, muted light, like someone clicking a flashlight on and off very quickly. A shape comes into view, unexpected and familiar, ugly sunglasses and artfully swept hair.

“Bill?”

“Hiya, roomie!” Bill saunters over, waving both hands in greeting. “Here for a little late-night stargazing?”

“What are you doing here?” asks Ford.

“What are you doing here?” Bill fires back.

“I'm allowed to be here,” replies Ford, feeling stunned.

Bill's hand goes to his chest in mock-outrage. “Well I never! I see how it is. You're allowed to scope the cosmos at unreasonable hours, but I'm not? Just because you're Mr. Science? That sounds like an unfair double standard to me, and I won't stand for it!”

“No, that's not—” Ford interrupts himself with laughter. “The door was supposed to be locked.”

“Ohhh,” says Bill, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “Oh boy, is somebody in trouble?”

“Possibly. It wouldn't be you, if you were worried about that.”

"I wasn't." Bill fires Ford a shit-eating grin when he looks over. Maybe it would be irritating, under different circumstances, but as it stands Ford is too overcome by the absurd coincidence of the situation to be anything but relieved. Of everyone who could have taken advantage of the unlocked door, it was Bill, who just wanted to look at the stars. It feels significant in a way Ford can't quite put his finger on, yet.

"Good to know." Ford leaves his things in a heap by the telescope platform, bends to retrieve a notebook and his leather-bound journal. Bill doesn't move other than to cock his head to one side, his gaze a palpable thing, expecting and exacting. He's waiting for something, that part is clear enough. If he didn't seem so fundamentally like he's never required anyone's permission to do anything in his life, Ford would assume he's waiting to be asked to stay.

For all his earlier eagerness for solitude, Ford finds that he doesn't mind the idea of that at all.

He looks up. adjusting his glasses. Bill looks back.

"Would you like to stay?" asks Ford.

"Fordsy, I thought you'd never ask!" Bill swoops closer, circling Ford to hover by his elbow. He hooks his chin over Ford's shoulder, tiptoed, angling for a peek at the books in Ford's hands. "Come on, let's see this exciting secret science business you're supposed to be here doing."

"Why do you sound like you don't believe me?" asks Ford, a little defensive. Bill leans into him, radiating a lazy line of warmth that settles in the hollow of Ford's chest.

"Psh, I believe you."

Ford can feel Bill's breath against his neck when Bill talks, little puffs of heat.

"That's not the point," Bill asserts, jabbing a finger into Ford's arm for emphasis. "Aren't we all paying schmucks in this for-profit institution? Supposed to be here, not supposed to be here--what a crock! Who decides this stuff anyway?"

"The head of the astronomy department?" offers Ford.

Bill barks a laugh, slaps a hand against Ford's back hard enough to make him stumble forward.

"Got yourself friends in high places, huh?"

"I didn't mean it like that," says Ford hastily.

"No, no, you're very impressive," says Bill, leering. "I'm very impressed."

It's a strange fractal of self-awareness, Ford overly aware of Bill's hand still pressed between his shoulder blades, aware of his own awareness like an itch, like the damp cuff of a woolen sweater, just the wrong side of comfortable. The full shape of it spirals away from him, down and down, no bright thread of logic to pick out and aid his tugging it apart. Just the twist of it in his gut, the awareness, the itch.

"I'm starting to regret asking you to stay," he says, and means it--not for the right reasons, the reasons he'd like there to be, something he could note and measure and cite. No proper scientist would take a simple feeling as proof of anything, as if Ford even knew what he might posit it to prove.

Bill cackles gleefully. "Too late! It's vampire rules, now, smart guy, you can't get rid of me that easy! Now make with the science already."

"All right, all right," chuckles Ford. He takes a heavily notated scrap of paper from his journal and unfolds it. "Wait here a minute."

"Not my strong suit," says Bill. "What am I waiting for?"

Ford gestures with the paper. "I have to set the telescope's relays to the optimal optical configuration for the current atmospheric condition."

"On it!" Before Ford can fully process the words, Bill snatches the paper out of his hand and dashes for the instrument booth.

"I--Bill, wait! You know how to adjust the relays?" Professor Neilson hadn't entrusted Ford with the keys to the observatory so he could let someone else loose on the building's intricate, frankly fussy control system. Sagan forbid if Bill breaks something--

Bill spins to face him, laughing, his awayward momentum unbroken. "What, like it's hard?"

It's not the reassurance Ford hoped for. "It is if you don't know what you're doing!"

"Luckily for you, Fordsy, I always know what I'm doing." Bill fires a finger-gun in Ford's direction, and the door to the booth slams shut.

Above him, Dithery's massive telescope shudders to life, the overtaxed, undermaintained structure creaking and popping its familiar protests as it eases into position. Ford holds his breath. Slowly, in playful fits and spurts that strike Ford as far too internally consistent to be accidental, it tilts up, swings sideways, right and right, then too far right, and left again. It pauses, just briefly, dips downward and bobs back up--like a bow, and under his anxiousness ignites a giddy relief that has Ford laughing into his hand.

By the time the telescope grinds to a halt, relief is too small a word for what Ford is feeling. He's impressed. He glances at his watch, at the stars visible though the slotted dome, compares what he sees to the table penned across the center fold of his journal. He does this because he's a scientist, and a scientist always verifies his data, even when he's been there dozens of times before, looking at the same graceful angle of glass and steel aimed at the same swatch of sky and knowing through the sheer power of familiarity that Bill has positioned the telescope perfectly.

It's a little, Ford thinks, like being in the lab with Fiddleford, the rare rush of knowing that his present company can be trusted to be competent, to keep up with whatever wild strides Ford has decided must be taken. Absently, he rubs at a spot on the side of his neck. A little, but not really.

Ford is smiling as he sets to his next task; he takes a thick packet from his bag and kneels to spread it out next to the telescope platform, several separate sheets of paper taped together to form a meticulously plotted chart of the visible night sky that takes up a considerable portion of the floor. He flips his journal open to the relevant page and leaves it where he can see it as a reference.

"Wow, graph paper? Really?" Bill appears at the edge of Ford's chart, peering down. "And here I was thinking you couldn't possibly get any nerdier than the Star Trek socks."

Ford doesn't respond beyond a laugh; any implications of his nerdiness have long since stopped carrying a sting from most people, and in the meantime Bill is looking over the chart with enough keen, genuine interest to suggest maybe there hadn't been much of a sting intended to begin with.

"This must've taken you a while." Crouching closer, Bill gestures towards the thick colored lines that curve across the visible pages of Ford's journal. "What do these measure?"

Ford's heart does a strange sort of kick-flip in his chest, excitement tempered by nerves. He fumbles with his ancillary notebook, briefly forgets the page he's looking for, then nearly smacks Bill in the face with it in his eagerness to show him.

"Watch the nose, smart guy, I like this one."

"Sorry," says Ford quickly, the surge of embarrassment he feels less important than the present opportunity to share his research with an interested party. He adjusts his glasses, points to the block of complex equations he'd inadvertently used as a weapon. "You see, these are functions--"

"Duh," sighs Bill. "That's not what I asked."

"Right," says Ford, hesitating. Past experience tells him this is the part where Bill's eyes start to glaze over with disinterest or derision, where their respective senses of enthusiasm shift suddenly into perfect inverse proportions of one other. It's happened often enough before--not recently, Ford has always been a quick study in aversion--so he doesn't understand the odd nerves that shallow his lungs now, the prickling sensation that the outcome of this conversation matters somehow. He hesitates, and Bill seems to pick up on it like a hound on a scent.

"Getting shy on me, Fordsy? Is it weird? Are you abusing the confidence of an authority figure for strange and unsavory perversions of the scientific method?"

“For--? Sweet Turing, Bill, what exactly do you think I'm doing, here?”

“That scandalized act won't work on me,” Bill tsks, “I know you.”

Ford bristles at the assertion, starts to protest; this chance interaction is the longest one they've had to date beyond the boundaries of their shared room, and those have been few enough on their own. They resemble friends, perhaps, in the way that Venus resembles a star to the untrained eye, but it goes no deeper than that. Ford can't name a single class Bill is enrolled in, what books he's read, where he comes from.

And yet, he thinks, at least Bill didn't assume he'd come here to impress a girl.

“What do you know about ley lines?”

[petrachord]

astra inclinant (Chpt 2 out of 29)

Chapter Title: umbra

Translation: “shadow” or “ghost”

Fandom: One Piece

Links: AO3 and FFN

Once, Mother told him in secret that they’d wanted a second child for his sake.

“Why?” he asked and she had shook her head, an old little smile on her lips. She never did answer him, but Rosi arrived all the same.

He was very shy and meek, not one for confrontation. Did weird things like thanking and interacting with the slaves. Also cried. A lot.

They had nearly nothing in common, but he worshiped Doflamingo anyway. Followed him around everywhere and tried desperately to impress him. It gave Doflamingo all sorts of strange feelings inside he didn’t know how to account for. He supposed the slaves deferred to him as well, but Rosi was different. An equal. He didn’t have to constantly totter after him or call for him or really have anything to do with him at all.

But he seemed to want to. And he always did.

“I love you, brother,” Rosi would say sometimes, softly, as if he thought it needed to be said.

Doflamingo supposed he understood what Rosi meant. He appreciated Rosi’s love like he would a pretty sunrise—something he recognized at a distance and was always pleased by but could never quite fathom the idea of touching.

Not to say he didn’t try. Not to say he didn’t love him back in the only way he knew how.

“You are mine.”

===

It took a mere year for the Donquixote Family to make its name. They ran drug rings and slave trade, smuggling weapons to the hands of tyrants. Entire towns burned to the ground and grown men begged for the lives before expiring. There was blood enough for days.

Trebol and Diamante praised Doflamingo endlessly for their successes, attributing him to their growing power and the spreading horror of their names. It was rather funny how satisfied they were already.

Because he sure as fuck wasn’t.

The enterprise required expansion and when he turned seventeen, he declared they’d be taking their business to the seas. Pica and Diamante laughed uproariously, fantasizing of plunder and women and luxury. Trebol’s thoughts were of prestige and fame, rambling from then on about emperors and warlords.

Perhaps people like them could not understand. There was only one objective Doflamingo gave a rat’s ass about and that had nothing to do with treasure or the absurd system of the Shichibukai.

Only Vergo seemed to have half a clue.

“Piracy, huh?” he pondered once, leaning against the rail of their most recently…commandeered ship, “You’ve a knack for poetics, Doffy.”

Doflamingo rested his chin on a palm. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Going out onto the waves,” Vergo’s shades glinted beneath the noon rays, reflecting the crisp waters, “A full circle.”

Doflamingo snickered. He immensely enjoyed these moments of perception from Vergo.

“We’re all buried at sea.”

A small smile crossed Vergo’s lips as he lit another cigarette. The wind was blowing out to the waves, heady tobacco blending together with the salt spray. Doflamingo inhaled, focusing upon it.

And didn’t bother acknowledging the shadow of eight-year old Rosinante sitting on the rail between them.

===

The hallucinations had begun out of nowhere. One moment, Doflamingo was having the time of his life, pounding into some moaning tart in the backroom of a local pub and the next Rosi was standing at the edge of the bed, peering into his face.

Doflamingo swore, nearly crushing the girl in his rush to scramble off of her. His recent growth spurt had made him long and heavy, and the dresser tipped over when he kicked it accidentally.

The girl didn’t even seem to notice the thundering crash it made. She didn’t even seem to notice he was gone at all, as she lay sprawled on the bed still, gasping, a blush of pleasure across her snowy cheeks.

Doflamingo’s mouth went dry. Rosi straightened, hands behind his back, as if he were about to start rocking on his heels. He looked exactly the same as when Doflamingo had last seen him. Sweat and dirt-stained, clothes worn, that thumbprint of their father’s blood at the corner of his chin from where Doflamingo had touched him.

Rationally, it couldn't have been real. He still surveyed the islands across the North Blue and kept a tap on the local news, but had long stopped expecting anything. It had been seven years after all. At this point, Rosi was either dead or didn’t want to be found.

“No,” Doflamingo growled, “No, no, you don’t get to do this to me.”

“What was that, hon?” the girl murmured, eyes clearing, “Hey, what are you doing over there? Fun’s back this way, big boy.”

She sat up, slinking right past Rosi. Her long hair was still dark and wet with rainwater. She smelled of her muddy traipse through the storm when Diamante had demanded whores for company. A cool bird-like hand took him by the wrist, guiding it to her lily-white breast.

“Come on now,” she said softly, fingers resting over his knuckles, “Don’t be shy.”

Doflamingo yanked his hand back and made her jump.

“Shut up.” He pointed toward the side of the bed, right at Rosi’s blank face. “Do you see anything there? Just nod or shake your head.”

The girl looked startled, hesitating a beat that made Doflamingo want to smack her in his impatience. But then she turned, glancing at his brother without comprehension and shook her head.

Doflamingo refused to let the icy grip of panic take him.

“Get out,” he snarled to the girl and wrenched his pants off the floor, far from aroused anymore.

“W-What? But you still have an hour—“

“Did you not hear me?” Doflamingo grinned and the girl paled. For an incredible second, it almost seemed she wanted to keep protesting, before self-preservation kicked in and she nodded, scooping up the crumpled pile of her dress.

It wasn't until her footsteps had faded down the hall that he managed to turn himself around again. Rosi was still there, sitting on the upturned dresser and idly kicking his feet.

“What do you want?” Doflamingo asked quietly.

He was stared at. The expression was mostly blank, save for a faint shadow of reproach, of child-like disapproval with him that Doflamingo remembered so well his stomach curled. Fuck, he was too young to be going crazy.

“I looked for you,” he said, “I really did. But you were gone. I think you’re probably dead actually. You’re not here to blame me, are you?”

Rosi’s face softened. He hopped to his feet, touching the floorboards without a sound, and for a second, Doflamingo thought he was walking towards him and couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

But Rosi halted at the end of the bed, crouching near the post. He stared at Doflamingo, before looking down.

A dropped photograph lay half-wedged between linen and wood. It was yellowed and creased with too many folds. A young raven-haired girl hugging a woman in a wheelchair.

Doflamingo recognized the hair first. It had just been fanned out over the pillows only minutes ago after all and ah, that’s right, he’d chatted with her pimp, hadn’t he? And learned the whole tragic tale. A dying mother. A life of poverty. She sold herself for a handful of pills.

Diamante had laughed and laughed until he cried. (God, the sentiment in people, am I right Doffy?)

Doflamingo hadn't laughed. Fraying hair and brittle wrists had crowded his memory then. And coughing. Endless coughing.

Rosi stared at him, nearly bending backwards just to meet his gaze. The torn hem of a lilac dress was clutched between his fingers.

Doflamingo slid on his glasses.

In the end, he fucked no one and left over twice the entitled payment for the stunned woman, storming out of the pub and into the wet cloud-ridden dark. Diamante didn’t protest much, cowed beneath the seething blackness of Doflamingo’s glare.

The photograph was still in his hand, growing increasingly wet and ruined. His trembling grip crumpled it further. With a burst of crimson petulance, he thought about setting fire to the entire pub and tossing it into the flames.

Instead, it slipped through his fingers to lie in the rain.

Rosi was gone.

===

He kept coming back.

Every time Doflamingo tried to do anything even remotely interesting. Or further the many meticulous plans he’s laid out, Rosi would be there.

Sometimes, in the pristine satin robe of a Celestial Dragon. Sometimes, in the rags their father had reduced them to.

Always watching.

Over the next few years, Doflamingo grew used to seeing him in doorways and windows, seated at the table while Vergo made reports, or spattered with the guts of whomever Pica had slaughtered for laughing at his voice.

Ignoring him to do what he pleased resulted in nightmares. And a left eye that seared with such agony he once nearly gouged it out.

By that juncture, Doflamingo was sincerely contemplating if he'd gone insane. He’d done a vast amount of reading in his spare time, determined to educate himself, and concluded that at some point he'd suffered a psychotic break.

Doflamingo could not fathom why or when. He hardly thought he was broken.

But what else could this be? He wondered, standing in the rubble of another nameless town, Trebol giggling and Rosi huddled amongst the corpses, cradling Father’s head like a toy.

===

“You really should leave me alone.”

Doflamingo was twenty-three and Gold Roger had been dead for six years.

The Grand Line festered with impossible dreams. A torrent of skull sails poured in, each with their own silly little design and captain, here to pursue their silly little goals.

A new era was rumbling on the horizon. Unwritten history with the quill poised on the page. How Doflamingo fantasized about tearing a hole straight through it all. There were so many ideas rambling in his head these days, so many horrible and hilarious things to achieve.

The crew had grown like a rising swell. It sufficiently sized now to organize into individual teams and supervising officers. They were all misfits, orphans and freaks to some degree, ostracized and barely existing on the fringes of society. No one wanted them, which was a waste and a shame, because there was such talent to be found.

Lao G from death row and Jora from the streets. The latest recruit, Senor Pink, had been plucked out of the jaws of a loan shark and was blinking at him with puzzlement.

“Young Master?” He spoke, all caution, and Doflamingo’s gaze trailed down from the bookcase, where his still eight-year old brother swung his feet.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured, shoving aside his own surprise that he’d spoken out loud, “So a little lady’s smitten with you, is she?”

Senor Pink blushed as deep as his namesake. “W-Well it’s nothing very serious. Just a few dates really. But since we’re going to be docked here until the log pose updates, I just thought…uh…”

Doflamingo pretended to listen as he prattled on. He kept tabs on every interesting development and was already well-aware of Senor Pink’s pretty, pretty Russian. They were discussing marriage at this point, far beyond a “few dates,” and Doflamingo was not pleased at all that his subordinate thought to hide things from him. Trebol had already urged that the relationship needed ending by force, worried about a division in Pink’s loyalties. Having yet to see any evidence of this, Doflamingo hadn’t bothered. He liked Pink and didn't like suspecting family.

Even if things changed all the time.

“My dear Senor,” Doflamingo said, abruptly interrupting the other man, “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? You are lying and I’m frankly quite offended you presume me so easy to evade.”

Oho, he’d forgotten how white of a shade Senor Pink could turn. Even better than that petrified bird impression of Jora’s. A corner of Doflamingo, which was forever a ten year old boy burning in the flames, was alight with vicious glee. Fear was not nearly so practical as devotion, but it was fun to see all the same.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I was going to tell you sooner, but there was just never…She thinks I’m a banker, she doesn’t know that I’m…well, I-I guess I’m afraid she might—“

“What, Pink?” Doflamingo tilted his head. “Leave you? Send the Marines after me? Is she a bigger problem than I’d initially thought?”

The man’s eyes widened. Fat beads of sweat trickled from his perfectly coiffed hair and he nearly stumbled over himself to correct him.

“What? No, no, Young Master, she’s not a threat at all. I-I swear she knows nothing. She’ll never know anything. You don’t have to waste your time.”

“Never a waste of time where my family’s concerned,” Doflamingo chided, smiling coolly, “I've been abundantly clear. Mistakes can be excused. But betrayal…”

“I would never betray you,” Senor Pink said, fists squeezing and voice thick, “Never. Not for anyone. Please, Young Master, leave her be. I-I’ll…I’ll break things off with her today if you want me to. Give me any punishment you see fit for lying.”

His head was bowed and oh god, he was close to tears, was it really so serious a thing, eheh. Doflamingo fiddled with his options. Something from the frozen depths of him mused on killing her anyway and making Senor Pink dispose of the body. He’d never been partial to the notion of sharing…

Fingertips brushed his elbow. Doflamingo blinked and Rosi was sitting on the desk with blood coming out of his eyes.

===

(Senor Pink cringed like a dog awaiting a kick when Doflamingo suddenly cursed, nails screeching against polished wood.

“You’ve picked the wrong time,” the Young Master snarled and terror wrung Pink's stomach a little harder. As far as captains went, the Young Master was in his own league. A towering god among men. Power exuded from his every pore, but he was still surprisingly generous and reasonable, even if impossible to predict.

And certainly while those rare moments of anger were frightening beyond description, crew members were never subjected to it as long as they remained useful and did as they were told. He always made his expectations so very clear and Senor Pink would not dare resent him for that.

No, everything had simply been his own fault. He’d fucked up for real and now he’d never see or hear or touch her again.

“Get lost.”

Senor Pink stiffened.

“I said get lost, Rosi.”

Senor Pink raised his head).

===

“…Sir?”

Doflamingo’s jaw creaked as he glared into Rosi’s stained and dirty face, ignoring the shudder that echoed through his soul.

“Young Master?” a voice warbled through his senses, “Who are you…?”

Doflamingo turned back to Senor Pink, who flinched just at his gaze. He made a single alarmed glance at the empty space Doflamingo had been snapping at and did not attempt to move or speak again.

Eyes narrowed, Doflamingo considered the man impatiently. He had an inkling then of what would send Rosi away. It wasn’t the statement he’d prefer to make and he would probably never hear the end of it from Trebol, but he wanted Pink gone now.

“…If you watch her well,” he said slowly, “And never forget where your loyalties lie…then I could care less what you do.”

Senor Pink gaped, his previous unease crushed instantly beneath the weight of hope.

“S-Sir, do you mean…a-and it’s okay if we…”

Doflamingo sighed, resisting the urge to rub his temples. Oh well, he was bored of this whole situation anyway.

“Don’t lie to me again. Now get out.”

Senor Pink bowed so low his forehead was nearly level with the desk. He didn’t dare to ask what had changed his mind.

“Thank you, Young Master,” he said, voice trembling, “For your forgiveness.”

Doflamingo snorted as the door clicked shut after him. Forgiveness, huh?

“What the hell do you think you're playing at?"

But he was already in the room alone.