#I just somehow noticed it because Dee is so childish when it comes to this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

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Dee Little Snake

Series Summary - Janus uses age regression as a way to destress but has little control over it whenever he grows upset. Trying to keep a secret like that can be hard when you're only four years old, and thus family bonding ensues in a way nobody expected, least of all Deceit.

Chapter 1 - A Little Upset

Chapter Summary - Still not over the events of the last video, Roman "accidentally" breaks something very important to Janus. Upset and stressed with seemingly no one to turn to, Janus' age regresses to that of a four year old, locking himself away in his room to wait it out. The last side he expected to care finds him and helps make it better.

Warning: Blood and Injury

Patton smiled encouragingly as Janus took a seat at the table, turning back around quickly to poke at the pancakes intent on not burning them this time. He took his hat off slowly, wanting to be respectful, and fidgeted with the thermos he had brought from the other kitchen. It was a translucent pale yellow with little snakes with bowties patterned all over the surface of the plastic. Virgil and Remus had worked on it together some years ago as a gift for Christmas and dispite their now rocky relationship he was hoping that seeing the old gift would make Virgil...tolerate him? Maybe start a conversation? Sighing he got up to look for a drink from the fridge just as Roman walked into the kitchen.

He and Janus froze as they caught sight of each other and the air immediately turned tense. He saw Patton's shoulders rise slightly and guiltily looked away, offering Roman a hesitant nod while he unscrewed the thermos and set it on the table as he continued towards the fridge. He didn't expect Roman to not be upset with him; he understood completely that he had taken it too far but then again so had Roman. He knew the creative side had laughed at Virgil's name as well and that had honestly made it even harder for him to even consider making himself that vulnerable, but it had been the only thing he had known to do to establish some level of trust between him and the others. Plus, he glanced back over to Patton, it was worth it for pancakes.

He turned around holding a jug of milk that was thankfully not expired just as Roman brushed past him, purposefully bumping his hip against the table as he did. The thermos wobbled and Janus was not nearly quick enough this early in the morning to prevent it from falling. Time felt like it slowed as it smashed onto the ground and a piece from the bottom broke off from the spidering cracks. Distantly he heard Patton gasp and plates clanking together as Roman hummed a simple tune but for all the distractions he couldn't bring himself to look up yet. He slowly leaned down to pick up the peices, tearing up as he realized he wouldn't be able to fix it like how it was before. His powers didn't fix things, they disguised things. Virgil and Remus had worked hard on making this together and now...

"How childish can you be?" He growled out, effectively cutting off the semi-cheerful humming.

Roman scoffed, not sparing him a glance as he set the table - with only four plates he noticed - and crossed the floor again to get glasses. "It's only a cup, just conjure a new one."

Janus stood up angrily and clutched the ruined peices to his chest. "I can't conjure things like that and you know it! I don't even have the capabilities to fix this and you think nothing of ruining the one thing I brought up with me? Your immaturity is-"

"Is what?" Roman whirled around. "As bad as Remus'? Worse? You think just because you're out here with us that means everything is somehow fine?!"

"Roman." Patton was looking at the creative side with a mix of concern and...anger? The pan was thankfully empty as it seemed to be forgotten for the time being.

Hearing the warning in his voice, Roman deflated a bit before turning away. "Whatever."

Patton shot Roman a hard look before looking over at the man still clutching the broken thermos to his chest. "Janus-"

He quickly turned away from Patton's gentle tone, sinking down into his room without a second glance.

Tears threatened to spill over as he tried in vain to blink them back, cursing as he collapsed in his bed and pulled the covers over himself completely. Roman was right, this was completely childish. Crying over something as small as a broken cup. He curled around it protectively even as the jagged edge cut into his palm. But Virgil and Remus had worked so hard on this. Virgil keeping Remus' more suggestive designs off of the gift and Remus reigning in his creativity enough to make something they knew Janus would actually like. Even if they had put the snakes on it as a joke he still loved it, they even managed to get it his favorite shade of yellow.

But now it was broken. The one thing he had from before their unit became tense, when they had been like a little family of their own. Now he couldn't use it and so he had no reason to bring it out again, which meant Virgil would never see it and that meant there would be no conversation starter other than 'what are you doing here?'; no neutral ice breaker to start them thinking about how things used to be and to start them talking about how things could be again. It would just be him and his unwanted presence and stupid dishwashing yellow gloves and cape he wore because he couldn't have his blanket weight around his shoulders and hat to hide his curly hair that none of the others had so he didn't understand why he did and...and...

In his frazzled thoughts he barely noticed the bed becoming larger around him, the hill of blankets becoming a small mountain while he curled further into himself. He only noticed his drastically reduced size when he cracked his eyes open and realized just how difficult it was to hold the thermos when his hands were so much smaller than they had been.

A sob escaped his throat as he realized what had happened, the stress of the situation bearing down on a mind that was ill equipped to deal with it. Not only did everyone hate him for trying to help in the only way he knew how to get their attention but now he was small and his hand hurt where the broken plastic still dug into his palm and he couldn't stop crying. He wanted comfort but there was no one outside his room that would be willing to give it to him, especially since no one knew this happened when he got upset enough. No one except...

He cried harder, clutching the cup closer to him and burying his face onto the suffocating blankets further to try and drown out the sound, resigned to being trapped in his room for the foreseeable future.

------

Virgil stepped into the warm kitchen carefully, having heard yelling just an hour earlier and wanting to be sure the air was relatively clear before following the smell of pancakes. Patton was still at the table picking at his stack with an uncharacteristic frown on his face, Logan sat across from him with his usual coffee and phone while Roman stabbed angrily at his plate as if it had personally attacked him. Debating whether or not to stay the rumbling in his stomach made the decision for him, making him sigh with hunched shoulders before fully revealing himself to grab the stack set aside for him.

"Morning kiddo." Patton mumbled, the usual cheerfulness gone from his voice.

Raising an eyebrow and looking at each of them in turn he grabbed the syrup to drown the unsuspecting pancakes in front of him. "Morning, Patton. What's uh....is everything good?"

His eyebrow raised higher as Roman huffed loudly. "I broke a cup by accident and hurt Deciet's feelings and now he won't come out of his room even though I already tried apologizing through the door."

"Janus. And Roman, you really upset him-"

"It was just a cup, Patton!"

"To you!" Patton raised his voice slightly, Dad Mode fully activated as he tried to drive his point home. "You don't know what kind of significance that might have held for him and if him crying was any indication it must have been important! He has every right not to forgive you right away-"

"He was crying?" Virgil cut in, worry curling in his gut despite the tension that had been present between them since Janus revealed his name.

Roman's cheeks burned with what Virgil hoped was shame as he quickly left the room, Patton turning back to his plate with a sigh. "Yes, he was. He was very upset and still is if his door being locked is anything to go by."

Virgil nodded, standing up with his pancakes to leave. "Thanks for the breakfast, I think I'll eat in my room."

He didn't hear Pattons response as he sunk out.

-----

Trying to pick a lock while balancing pancakes on your lap was not as easy as it sounded, but Virgil was determined to get in the room. Anxiety burned through his veins as the lock finally clicked, hoping his worry was unwarranted.

Opening the door and looking immediately towards the tiny lump on the bed confirmed his worries. He closed and locked the door behind him before making his way quickly to the bed, setting the plate on the nightstand and crouching down carefully.

"Janus?" He said softly, wincing as the quiet sobbed cut off abruptly as the shaking stilled underneath the blankets. Virgil hadn't seen the other side like this in a long time, not since he left to join the "light sides" years ago. He still remembered to be gentle however as he tugged on the covers, pulling them down slowly when he didn't hear any protest.

"Dee?"

A red faced four year old curled up further into himself, tears still running down his face and snot smearing grossly across his cheek. His hat was gone allowing for tangled curls to splay across the pillow. Virgil gave him a hesitant smile as he held out a hand.

"I heard a little about what happened, do you wanna talk about it?"

The toddler hiccupped loudly and buried his face into the pillow, mumbling something that he couldn't catch.

"I can't hear you if you hide your face." Deciding to risk it he laid a careful hand on the others shaking shoulder, rubbing it softly when he wasn't pushed away. As he lowered his gaze to try and see what the other was holding he caught sight of something red staining the bedsheets underneath his hands.

His heart leapt in his throat. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Swallowing when all he recieved as an answer was another mumble he carefully slipped his other arm underneath the child, guiding him upright to try and find what was wrong. Janus, well Dee he supposed since at the moment he was little, was clutching what looked like a thermos to his heaving chest, sobs still suppressed as he gazed at Virgil fearfully. His heart broke at the expression, feeling horrible for making the child feel as if he had stopped caring. Looking closer he recognized the thermos; it was one he and Remus had made for him for Christmas years ago and suddenly everything clicked into place. Dee had most likely brought this to breakfast as a sort of peace offering and Roman had ruined what Dee had probably considered his only way of starting a conversation with Virgil. And he had been in here for an hour, upset and crying and afraid to seek help because he didn't think he could.

Virgil felt tears welling in his own eyes as he brushed them from Dee's, holding out his other hand in offering.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't come to me. Will you let me help you?"

Dee sniffed and looked down, slowly unclenching his fingers and leaning closer which Virgil took as consent. He slowly stood up and leaned down, scooping him up quickly and heading for the door. Unlocking and opening it with practiced ease he glanced out to make sure no one was around before heading quickly to the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Plunking Dee down on the sink he gently took the thermos from his hands, glancing up quickly as he winced. The poor kid must have been gripping it for the entire hour he had been curled up, cramping his hands in the process. He smiled with sympathy and took the tiny hands in his own, flipping them while massaging slowly as he inspected the cut he assumed had come from the broken plastic. It had cut through the glove and pierced his palm though thankfully it didn't look very deep. Retrieving the first aid kit from under the sink he slipped off both gloves and set them aside, grabbing out antiseptic wipes and bandaids.

"This will sting a little." He warned before gently wiping up all the blood away from the wound, grimacing as the cleaning revealed several small cuts and punctures rather than one singular cut he had assumed to be there. Once it was clean he grabbed a roll of gauze instead, wrapping the hand securely and taping up the loose end. Smiling at his work he put everything away and stood back up.

"Better?" He asked.

The toddler pouted slightly. "Still hurts."

Taking the hand again Virgil threw away all of his scraped up dignity and brought the palm to his lips, blowing an extremely gentle raspberry and grinning as Dee snatched his hand away giggling. Humming soothingly Virgil wet a washcloth and brought it to his face, wiping up the accumulated snot and tears thoroughly before throwing it aside.

Dee looked back down and hesitated for a second before tears gathered in his eyes again and he thrusted out his arms, making frantic grabby hands at the older side.

"Hey, hey it's okay." Virgil quickly scooped him back up and bounced slightly, continuing to croon as he made his way back to the bedroom while his shoulder became more and more wet. "I got you, Dee, I promise."

He sat on the bed and continued to rock the small side while rubbing his heaving back to try and calm him down. "Would talking about it help?"

He began to panic as Dee only sobbed harder, cursing himself for becoming so bad at this.

"I was mean t-to Ro-Roman so he- *hic* he broke my fav- my favorite cup and I- I can't fix *hic* I can't fix it and it's the o-only th-thing I have left from when- from when you liked me and now it8s gone!"

Virgil's arms tightened around Dee as he wailed, regret stabbing through his stomach painfully. "Dee, I still like you-"

"No you don't! You n-never want me ar-around since you *hic* since you left!"

"Dee, sweetheart, I promise I still like you. Things are just...complicated right now because everything's still trying to smooth out." Virgil pulled him away slightly so he could look at him properly, reaching forward to wipe at his cheeks. "This is something we need to discuss more when you're big again, but for right now, I'm not lying Dee. I still love and care about you very much. What Roman did was wrong no matter the circumstances and you are completely within your right to be upset."

Dee calmed slightly, still looking unsure but thankfully he had stopped crying. Virgil smiled and gently booped his nose earning a small giggle in response.

"If you want, I can ask Remus about fixing your cup for you and maybe making it so it won't break?" Dee nodded frantically, twisting his fingers in his shirt as his tears stopped completely.

"Then that's what we'll do, but later okay? For right now I brought you some pancakes." He gestured over to the bedside table before stopping and making a face, almost mirroring the disgusted way Dee's nose scrunched up at the prospect of eating the now cold and mushy pile of breakfast.

"Gross." Virgil laughed at Dee's declaration, agreeing completely.

"Should of thought that through I guess. I can make you another stack if you want? We can even make shapes!"

Dee glanced over at him, dubious expression completely out of place on his young face. "Not hungry. And you only do blobs."

"Maybe I've gotten better!" He countered indignantly, grinning at the raised eyebrow his statement earned him. "Alright well we'll try that later then. Let's get you changed into something more comfortable for right now, yeah?"

He lifted the child up and over to sit on the bed rather than his lap and walked over to the dresser where he knew Dee still had his favorite pajamas. He looked exhausted and Virgil had no doubt that as soon as he was comfortable he'd be nodding off.

Digging through various articles of clothing he hummed in triumph as he found what he was looking for. He laughed at the look on Dee's face as he presented the article of clothing, quickly helping him change.

A few minutes later he was tucking the yellow snake onesie clad four year old snugly into his blankets, biting his lip to keep from squealing as Dee's tongue blepped out happily. He made a mental note that if Patton was ever trusted enough to care for Janus when he was like this to make sure all of them were wearing ear plugs.

He was just turning to grab the thermos, intending to get Remus to help him fix it when Dee called out to him quietly.

"Vee?"

Virgil turned and smiled gently. "What is it, Dee?"

"Will you stay?"

His heart melted at the small vulnerable face, his vocal chords unable to form "no" even if he had wanted them to.

"Of course I will."

Much later, when Janus woke up from his impromptu nap definitely feeling better than he had in a while, he startled at the feeling of another's arm wrapped around him, twisting to see Virgil still fast asleep behind him. And if all he did was smile and lay back down, closing his eyes contentedly to soak in the feeling of being warm and safe, no one had to know.

He knew they would be talking later, but knowing Virgil of all sides still cared about him enough to care for him at his most vulnerable made him a lot less nervous about his future.

This work is also available on AO3!

#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #dee little snake #my writing #tw blood

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lefaystrent · 5 years

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Chaotic!Remus somehow switched Patton and Logan's aspects. Something happened and now logan as morality is breaking down sobbing and can't figure out why. Patton hasn't noticed anything other than super genius (he thinks he's a super hero now)

Logan felt a whoosh gothrough him.

It almost felt like wind, but therewas no breeze to be accounted for. Breezes didn’t exist in the mindscape. But somethinghad passed through Logan.

Logan paused to contemplate.

Nothing else happened so he resumedmaking his sandwich.

He was alone in the kitchen, preparinghis brain food. Just a sandwich and chips, nothing extravagant. It was only lunchtime after all. So he poured some chips from the bag onto the plate and—

One of the chips.

They fell to the floor.

Logan watched horror-struck as thepotato chip bounced off the edge of the plate, slid off the counter, andclattered to the floor.

It was like watching glass shatter.

Or seeing a dog wander into theroad and a car was going too fast and—

The bag of chips rumpled softly asLogan dropped it onto the counter.

He kneeled on the ground, but itwas already too late. The chip was dirty, and there were so many germs on the floor.This chip was inedible.

Logan could feel the loss of whatcould have been swell up in his chest and burst forth from his eyes. Overwhelmed,he dissolved into sobs.

“Logan! You’ll never guess whathappened! I’m a superhero now—wait, what’s going on?”

Patton had slid into view in hiscat onesie. He’d been excited before, but now his head cocked to the side as hewatched Logan bawl on the floor.

Logan pointed to the fallen chip.

“My chip!” Logan sniffled. “Itfell!”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Patton said, butit lacked his usual extra empathetic behavior. He shrugged. “It’s not the endof the world though, kiddo. It’s just a chip. It doesn’t really make sense tocry about it.”

“But I was going to eat it!” Logantearfully explained. In the back of his head, he noticed that his response wasincredibly out of line for his typical stoic behavior; Patton was right, itdidn’t make sense to cry about one chip. But he just couldn’t help it. “Now Ican’t eat it. Do you know how many germs collect on a kitchen floor? Too manyto risk!”

Patton put a hand to his chin inthe classic ‘thinker’ pose. “There are more chips though. There’s a whole bagon the counter. You could eat those.”

“I DON’T WANT THOSE! I WANTED THISONE!”

“Yikes.”

Virgil appeared suddenly as heoften did. He stood between them in the kitchen, headphones on his head. Hepushed them down around his neck.

“I could feel the angst-fest allthe way from my room. What’s up?”

“Logan’s throwing a childishtantrum because he formed an emotional attachment to a single chip.”

“I LOVED THAT CHIP!”

Virgil’s eyes bulged in that waythat said, “This is not the kind of mind-fuckery I signed up for.”

“I—….what?” Virgil asked, trying toprocess just what was happening. Patton was calling people childish? Logan wasprofessing his love for potato chips and crying? Wait, since when did Logan cry?

Patton sighed and shook his head. “Honestly,there’s no need to cause this much of a fuss. If you can’t bring yourself toeat any of the chips in this bag, I’m sure our budget will allow for us topurchase more from the store.”

“I’LL NEVER LOVE ANOTHER CHIP LIKETHIS ONE!” Logan whimpered. Like literally whimpered. Virgil’s jaw dropped.

Patton raised an eyebrow and shareda look with Virgil. “See what I’ve been putting up with?”

Okay, never mind the absolutelybaffling notion of Logan crying over anything. Since when did Pattonjust brush off people crying? Or look down on people like they were silly or stupid?He was acting more like Logan than even Logan was.

Wait…

Virgil looked at Logan. Logan whowas crying over dropping a chip.

Virgil pointed at Logan and Pattonand kept crossing his arms, trying to illustrate the connection his brain hadcaught on to.

“You…you guys, why are you guysacting like each other? Is this a prank? I don’t like pranks.”

“On the contrary, you enjoyperforming mischievous tricks every Halloween,” Patton corrected.

“That’s different. Also, since whendo you ever say ‘on the contrary’? You’ve literally never said that before inyour life.”

“I seem to have acquired the use ofan expanded vocabulary. Don’t I sound more efficient? At first I thought Imight have discovered a superpower, but now I am considering something morerational.”

“Uh, like how you and Loganobviously swapped places or something?”

“Indeed. We do seem to be actinglike each other. My apologies for the confusion, kiddo. Hm, ‘kiddo’ is an oddway to reference you, now that I think about it. You are clearly a man and nota child. I’ll need to rephrase the way I speak to you.”

Logan grabbed the chip bag from offthe counter and tossed it at Patton. “YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD!”

Patton brushed the crumbs off ofhimself. “Rude. Also, true. I am not your dad. I am a side of Thomas.”

Logan pouted, no longer crying butvery much teary-eyed. “I want my real dad back. I don’t like this. Everything’sso much all the time and I hate it. Just make us go back.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do that,” Pattonsaid. He glanced up towards the ceiling in thought. “Perhaps Roman would beable to help?”

Virgil frowned. “I bet he hadsomething to do with this.”

“He is the creative side; although,I do think that is an unfair assessment. Roman is, as they say, a ‘good boy’.”

Virgil wanted to snort. Or maybejust bang his head against the wall from the sheer weirdness of the situation.But the way Patton referred to Roman as being the creative side, it made Virgilremember that Roman was not completely the creative side.

Virgil scowled. “Remus!”

“You rang?” Remus said from rightbehind him.

Virgil jerked away and scuttled to theother side of the kitchen. Remus sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and asmile curling his lips.

“No time for chatting. Just changethem back,” Virgil ordered.

“Who said it was me?” Remus gaspedin offense. But the fact that he didn’t even ask about what Virgil meant wascondemning enough.

Virgil crossed his arms and stampedhis foot.

Remus threw up his hands. “Ugh,okay fine! It was me! You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“Well you should. I fixed them. SirStick-Up-His-Ass can finally feel~. And Prudey Pants over there won’t beso scandalized every time I open my mouth.”

“Oh no, I am still scandalized,”Patton said, but it sounded off due to the lack of emotion in his tone. “My reactionsare merely reserved.”

Remus blinked at him.

Then he looked to Virgil. “You know,now that he’s a robot, he’s way less fun. I kinda liked it when I made himscream.”

“Dude,” Virgil made a face at Remus’swording. “Just change them back already. They can barely function like this andit’ll only hurt Thomas in the end.”

“Okay, I’ll turn them back.” Remusgrinned like a shark. “But only if you come back to the dark sides.”

“What?! No!”

“Alrighty then. Have fun with Tweedle-Deeand Tweedle-Dumb then! Byeeee!” Remus waved his fingers at him before disappearing.

Logan let out a pained wail. “I’MGONNA BE STUCK LIKE THIS FOREVER!!!”

“Actually, you’ll only be stucklike this for the remainder of Thomas’s life,” Patton corrected.

Logan just cried harder.

“Hmm, it seems I’ve upset him.”

Virgil rubbed tiredly at his face.He blew out a breath. “No need to freak out. We can handle this. Crazy stuffhappens all the time. Just gotta—figure it out.”

“Maybe we should enlist Roman’sassistance like I initially suggested?” Patton said. “Him and his brother haverelatively the same abilities. Just different usage.”

“I’ll try anything at this point,”Virgil grumbled. “Princey! Get your butt in here.”

“Uh, excuse me! I could have beenin an important meeting,” Roman said, rising up into the kitchen.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You’re wearinga fuzzy robe and your nails are half done.”

“And who’s fault is it that they’reonly half done?” Roman sassed. “You could have asked nicely for me to… Why isLogan crying on the floor in the fetal position?”

“Early onset midlife crisis.”Patton nodded seriously.

Roman gave him a narrowed-eyed lookand shook his head. “Okay, what did I miss?”

Virgil let it out all in onebreath. “Remus switched Patton and Logan’s personalities or something and nowthey’ve been acting like each other and it’s super creepy and Remus won’tchange them back so can you just change them back already?”

Roman’s eyes went wide in a dawningrealization. “Why didn’t I ever think of that? Switching spots! Oh my gosh,wouldn’t that be such a cool video idea? Think about it—”

“No! No thinking!” Virgil cut himoff, waving his arms in an X motion. “Just change them back!”

Roman glowered at him. “Well youdon’t have to be so pushy about it.” He snapped his fingers

Instantly Logan stopped crying. Hesat up on the floor and wiped at his face. He stared down at his tear stainedhands in awe.

Patton meanwhile hugged himself. “Ithink I just had an out-of-body experience!”

“How cathartic,” Logan mumbled tohimself, still wiping away the tears.

“You’re welcome, now back to my meeting.Byeeee!” Roman sang and sank out.

Virgil leaned against the fridge. “Idon’t get paid enough for this.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” Loganresponded absently.

“Well I should.”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #Anonymous

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dragonleesupporter · 5 years

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Checking It Twice

AN: WOOO this took a lot. Hope yall enjoy!

(Warnings: Remus, something close to depression, and a little tickling.)

Logan had gone over his lists for who got what present that Christmas. It wasn’t hard, since Patton had demanded a Christmas list from each of them, which the cat-loving side promptly hung on the fringe to display what everyone wanted. Logan had gotten everyone one or two of the items they desired, except for one.

Sadly, one of the sides had made it onto Logan’s naughty list. Despite Patton desperately trying to get the logical side to change his mind, Logan’s decision had been made, he had checked his list off for this Christmas.

“Maybe check it again?” Patton urged.

“I am not the fictional character of Santa, Patton. There’s literally no need to ‘check my list twice.’ It’s set in stone. Remus gets no presents from me this year.” He crossed his arms, walking up to his room to dress properly for Christmas Eve.

“But it’s not his fault!” Patton called after him before giving up and retreating to his room as well.

If any of the sides were going to be on the naughty list for Christmas, it would be Remus. The fatherly side had tried to argue that Remus was the literal dark side of imagination and couldn’t help what he was. Logan countered that Deceit was at least putting in effort to not lie as often and to even add to a conversation without hindering it or changing it’s direction. While the few chances that was granted to Remus to change his behavior for the better, the duke had just taken advantage of their generosity, leaving them humiliated, angered, and even a few times, hurt.

He had been constantly bothering them left and right, like the pest he was, and it had only gotten worse as Christmas neared. Walking in on them while they were dressing to tease them, constantly bringing up disgusting facts or conspiracies during dinner that made the others lose their appetite, especially Virgil. Pranking them to point of pain, not to mention the stuff he put on his Christmas list. Logan even had to look up a few of the items and cringed at what his computer displayed before deleting his cookies for that website.

Logan had decided that even if he wanted to give Remus a gift for some reason, he wouldn’t be able to give him anything close to what was on his repulsive list.

Roman had tried to convince him to change his mind, too, but it was a fruitless effort, the prince using the same debunkable knowledge.

Virgil, Deceit and Logan had refused to give Remus a gift. Despite that, the evening had gone relatively well. Each of them had gotten what they wanted, plus a stick of deodorant. Remus didn’t really get anything on his list.

At first, Logan thought Patton’s and Roman’s pleading were in fear of what would happen if the duke didn’t get what he wanted, since he had done terrible things in the past as a response to similar events.

But something about Remus had piqued Logan’s curiosity that night. He wasn’t sure what it was, and he was never all that good at describing feelings, but Remus seemed calm down during the gathering despite his odd intensity leading up to it, and despite he got nothing he wanted.

Late into that night, the teacher had just gotten done with his work and finally retired to go to his room. Even during the holiday, there were still things to be done, despite the others trying to convince him to take a break. Along the way to his room he passed by the doors of his companions, each playing their own Christmas song.

Virgil was currently listing to the Christmas song from Nightmare Before Christmas, using some new headphones he got that night. Logan peeked in with a gentle smile and saw the purple side gently rocking back and forth, humming to the tune with his eyes peacefully shut.

He walked past Patton’s room next, and heard the fatherly aspect singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. When he looked inside, Patton was shuffling through pictures of Christmas past, singing the tune while bouncing in place, occasionally lifting the box smelling of Christmas to his face. Logan’s smile grew.

As he continued down the hallway, he heard a gentle hissing coming from the next room. He leaned in and saw a figure hunched over near a fire, wrapped in several dozen blankets with a hat peacefully sitting on an adjacent table.

“Sssssince we’ve no placccce to go… let it sssssnow, let it ssssnow, let it ssssnow…” It seems even Deceit could appreciate the winter holiday, even if he constantly complained about the cold.

Logan felt his smile growing even more as he walked past Roman’s dorm, hearing a deep elegant voice.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…” If anybody could reach those notes with such grace and elegancy, it would be the prince.

Logan was almost content… almost. Until he realized he had one more room to pass.

Even before reaching it, the teacher could hear loud speakers playing the remix version of “Jingle My Bells.”

Sigh.

He was scared to, but his curiosity got the better of him, and the logical aspect peeked inside. He was surprised at what he found.

Flashing lights, dozens of empty cartons of most-likely spiked eggnog, booming speakers, the disco ball… all of those were normal. So… what wasn’t?

Remus was seen on the floor, passed out with an odd sad frown on his face. An expression that did not compute well with Logan’s knowledge of the duke. The teacher was used to the crazy smile, the childish pout, and angry glare with eye roll… but, sad? Remus was never sad!

Logan noticed that with the duke passed out, no one would turn off the booming music coming from the speakers. He saw the stereo and carefully made his way towards it, stepping around all the eggnog cartons like landmines. Logan shut off the music and turned around quickly, part of him expecting Remus to be awake and ready to prank him, but the duke was still on the floor with that terrible expression.

It was then that he realized a book on a nearby table, opened and inviting him to read it. The dark blue side tried to resist the urge of his curiosity, but once again, it got the better of him as he found himself reading what could only be Remus’s personal diary.

‘December 25th, Christmas Eve,

It still worked. Less so than in previous years, but it still worked. They still hate me. Roman and Patton have been trying to show sympathy despite me telling them not to! Roman knows what’s going down! I don’t know why those dorks don’t seem to get it, even with my pestering. Even ol’ double Dee nearly gave into their sentimentality.

Roman knows I’m supposed to be hated, yet he STILL tries to get people to-ugh- CARE about me. Dear Zeus, the thought of it nearly makes me want to swallow live wire again. It even, dare I say it, scares me. If they start caring about me, I will TRULY lose it. All these years of them casting me away, taking the insanity and darkness with me so they could all love my dear brother like we arranged… all for nothing?? Now they’ll accept me because they ‘changed their minds’?

There was once a time I felt love a long time ago, but it wasn’t meant for me. Pain is meant for me… despite how much I want it to stop- No. I’m going to make sure they always hate me, especially Logan. Virgil and Dee might give in just because they know what I’ve been through… they were there when it happened after all… but Logan’s too strong for that. Maybe not smart enough to realize, but hey- that enema’s got the only real leash on me.

I love it when he gets all angry and puts his foot down. Or when he rolls his eyes at me, oh ESPCEIALLY that long sigh of his. He’ll never know it, but it actually fills me with a sense of strange belonging. I’m doing my job RIGHT. I’m making him HATE me, like I’m supposed to. GOD, it hurts so bad. But it’s my purpose, so in a way… it feels so good… If my broken self could ever love again, Logan would be the one to receive it. AAAOOO, but I can’t. Neither would he want me to, I’m certain.

Ugh, all this writing’s so boring, time to treat myself to some spiked eggnog and bleach.’

Logan’s eye twitched. How could he have been so stupid? The answers were all there… He just didn’t see it. He thought Remus’s attitude was caused by an underdeveloped mind, when in reality, he was thinking on a deeper field than Logan was! Ironically, he suddenly wanted to make the duke feel loved despite what the note said.

He peered behind him, Remus was still out, his chest rising and falling steadily. Now the sad expression made so much more sense… what was this feeling Logan was experiencing? It was making him want to be closer to the duke. Feeling a need to apologize, or help him feel better in some way.

He cautiously walked up to him and reached his hand out to touch his face, not really knowing what he was doing anymore, but following a weird voice in his head. His hand gently glided against Remus’s cheek, and Logan felt a strange bubbly glow as the duke smiled a little. The teacher felt himself smiling too as his fingers wandered underneath Remus’s chin, scratching a little.

The mustached man giggled, squirming a little.

“Hmhmhmhmhm… Thahahat tihihihckles…” He murmured sleepily, his light-hearted giggles giving a huge comparison to his normally manic cackles.

There was something sweet about his voice that the dark blue side had never heard before. Well, he knew that somehow, his fingers had made their way down to Remus’s neck without him realizing, making the duke laugh louder, but not enough to wake him up.

“Ah- Ahahahaha… Hoohoohoohoohoo…”

What was happening to Logan’s chest? The gentle sweet sound of Remus’s real laugh was making’s Logan’s ribcage feel heavy… was he getting sick? Did the duke trick him after all?

Remus started to scrunch up his shoulders, his smile getting wider and his face flushing.

“What the hell…” Logan couldn’t help but murmur. He had NEVER seen the duke blush, aside from the times he had gotten himself severely drunk. But this was kind of blushing was… cute… the duke was… cute?? Logan rephrased the statement/question multiple times in his head and it all pointed to the same answer.

Yes… very cute. The poor green side had been trapped in this position for so long that even writing his thoughts down were paradoxical and crazy. Logan felt a stab of pity for the duke, and knew that if he wanted to save him, (and maybe see some more of his cuteness) he would have to be subtle…

His brain moved from the confusing place of emotions to strategy, a much more comfortable place. He went to move away from the duke to plan out his ideas, but was surprised when he was yanked back a little.

While the teacher had been reflecting, the green side had latched onto his arm, desperate for warmth, and was NOT letting go…

“Uh-oh…” Logan tried twisting, pulling shaking, all to no avail. Remus had an iron grip on something he had wanted for so long.

An idea came to the teacher as he smirked, using his other hand to skitter at Remus’s side, ever so lightly, through the fabric of his sweater.

Sleepy giggles slipped from the duke as his body started shimmying away from the tickling feeling. “Nohohohoho…” His chuckles sent a wave of warmth through the teacher, and with a determined grin, his skittering turned into full-on scratching and squeezing.

Remus’s eyes snapped open as his hands released. “AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOPIIHIHIT!” He looked up to identify his attacker but… no one was there.

“Huh?” The mustached man sat up, looking around his room to find everything as it was, except his speakers were off, and his journal was shifted a little.

“Who in the name of Zeus would- oh, ooooh owie… here comes the headache…” Luckily, the green side passed out again before he could hear the snickering coming from just outside his door.

***

The next morning, all the sides had a present under the tree for them from Santa. Remus wasn’t surprised when there wasn’t one for him, and tried to act disappointed and pouty, even though he was delighted to get what he deserved. He reached into his sticky, smelly stocking, surprised to find no coal. Yet, he found a…

“Ribbon?” He cocked his head as the chatter from the others in the background died down to gentle murmurs, watching him.

The duke followed the green ribbon to a present under the tree. His façade fell.

“Oh, come on!” He balled his fists. “Who on earth gave me a present?! Why?!” He turned around to find the others backed against a wall. “I don’t deserve it!” He raked his hands through his hair.

“Wh-why don’t ya open it, k-kiddo?” Patton stuttered.

Remus looked down at the gift, scared at the indication that someone cared for him enough to forgive him for all his terrible acts and still give him a present.

He unwrapped it and felt tears prick at his eyes when he saw it was an especially made, Pickle-Poo-Lawns with Extra Onions and Toenails Deodorant. He opened the cap and it smelled even worse than his own creation.

It was AMAZING.

He turned and looked at the others who were all as shocked as him, except for one tie-wearing side, who gazed down at him with a sly smile.

Oh… OH. Maybe Remus could love after all.

@did-he-just-hiss-at-me

@cefsticklestoo

@all-my-fandoms-are-killing-me

@thestarswelcomemewithopenarms

@ollyollyoxinfree

@cooliofooliosanders

@bexxbeauty

#xmas #remus #fluff

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angelstrenchcoat-67 · 6 years

Text

Matchmakers

Pairing: Alex X Reader

Warnings: None yet

Series Summary:

Since I joined the cast of Supernatural, 5 years ago, they have made it their mission to find me a boyfriend, but things haven't been exactly easy. But when a new face joins the cast, the Padaleckis, the Ackles, and the Collins take it upon themselves to use the hiatus to become matchmakers.

PART 1

The last couple of weeks have been pretty intense. With reshooting scenes, doing voice overs, and making sure everything is done for the season finale, I don't think there isn't any bone or muscle in my body that isn't crying for a good sleep. But of course there are stunts left to practice, and scenes that still need to be shot that I know will leave me broken, emotionally as well as physically.

"You look like crap" I hear Genevieve's voice before I even see her but then she appears next to me with a mocking smirk plastered on her face.

"That's what ending a season does to you" I sigh dramatically as I rest my back on the chair, a few bones craking. "Jared didn't say you were comming. Where are the kids?"

I lean forward, trying to look for them as Gen takes the seat next to me.

"Jared is somewhere showing off to Jensen how Odette is taller than Zep" Gen says, clearly not amused by her husband's childishness. "And Tom and Shep are playing with a helicopter Clif got them"

"As Odette's Godmother and Tom and Shep's favorite not blood related aunt, don't tell Danneel I said that, I deserve to see them first" I try to sound offended but Gen just rolls her eyes with a grin on her face. "Even before their father"

"So" Gen starts, and I already know the tone in her voice. "I've heard that you and Alex are getting along quite well"

"You and Danneel seriously need to find a hobby other than messing with my love life" I recriminate her with my eyes but she just laughs with a sparkle of guilt in her look. "She literally asked me that a couple of days ago"

"I'm just curious" She looks at me innocently but I know her better, her mind is already making some wicked plan. "You are single. He is single. It's just a thought"

"He is a really good friend, just that" I blush a little because I know that it's not just that. I mean, we are friends. But we are both aware that we are single so a couple of flirty comments have been exchanged, but nothing more. But Gen can’t know that. "He's okay, I guess"

"I've seen him, Y/N" Gen huffs, insulted by my way of minimazing how Alex really looks. "And 'okay' is not the word I would use to describe him"

"You are a married woman" I laugh but I know she is right. We've all seen Alex. He looks like the type of guy Disney would hire to play the prince in their next princess movie.

"But not a blind one" She coughs when we see Jared comming our way with Odette sitting on his shoulders, alongside with Alex and Jensen.

"Ladies" Jensen greets Gen with a soft kiss to the forehead, and sticks his tongue out to me. Classic.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be filming a scene?" I reach for Odette but Jared has to help me out since the height difference doesn't really allow me.

"Misha is currently running some lines with Ruth so we have a couple minutes to spare" I barely catch Alex's words over Odette's babbling.

"Oh, that's good, I guess" I smile at Alex and I can see from the corner of my eyes, the look that Jared, Jensen and, Gen are sharing.

"Hey, now that they are both here, maybe it's a good time to tell them, Gen" Jared looks down at her wife as Jensen’s grin spreads across his face as he shakes his head a little.

"Oh, yes!" Gen's eyes light up and she looks between Alex and I. "Jensen's family, as well as Misha's will be joing us for the break. We are going to our beach house there so we thought it would be a good idea for all of us to go together"

"We are all planning to meet at the airport to start the trip together from there" Jensen jumps in, catching my attention. "I could look for your tickets if you decide to come"

A couple of days by the beach don't sound bad at lot, even if the guys want to use it to play cupid. I definitely need a few days to unwind and to relax with a few piña coladas in my hand.

"I would love to" I nod at Jensen, and I catch Alex bitting his lips, as if his trying to hold back a smile.

"Yeah, me too" Alex looks up and smiles at me. "Count me in"

"It's going to be amazing" Gen smirks widly as she winks at me. "I promise"

"I love that kid but sometimes I want to strap him to a chair, I swear" Danneel grunts as Zep keeps running away from her, constantly almost bumping in all the people that are in our gate. "I don't know why he is not like his twin"

I eye up Arrow, who's sitting next to JJ with a bottle between her chubby hands as she watches her sister coloring.

"Maybe he gets it from his dad" I let out in almost a whisper so that Jensen can't hear me, but when I turn around, he's glaring at me. "I'm kidding"

"West was a lot worse, I felt like if I wasn't careful, he would jump through the roof" Vicky exhales and I honestly feel bad for this woman, I love those kids, but I know the energy that they have. I've had to babysit them and I had to preper myself emotionally for the wild ride that is taking care of 8 kids.

"Everyday you give me more reasons not to have babies" I laugh, even though I know I actually want kids. Eventually, tho. In a far future.

"Oh but we want a mini Alex" Gen grins, which makes Vicky and Dee laugh.

"You are seriously still on that?" I roll my eyes, trying to hold the smile on my face. "Not happening"

"Oh, come on" Dee insisted. "I've catch him looking at you or the other way around, or that time on set when you were all over each other"

"We were not" I gasp, looking around to make sure Alex can't hear us. "We are just friends, even if you girls don't believe it"

"We know you are just friends, honey" Vick giggles and it's so quick, I almost miss it. "We are just going to make sure it doesn't stay like that"

"You are evil" I try to sound irritated but I know the grin that is creeping through my face doesn't allow me to.

Suddenly Jensen stands up, catching everyone's attention. Even Zep who can't seem to stop bouncing on the top of his carry on.

"So I'm going hand out the tickets" He starts sorting the papers through his hands. He looks up at me and then at Alex. "Alex, Y/N, since you guys joined later I wasn't able to book the seats with us but you'll be together, at least" Off course we are.

"Don't corrupt my child, Y/N" Misha is the first one to speak, making everyone laughs as I just feel my cheeks getting red and warm by the second.

"Okay, they are boarding now" Jared grabs Shep's hand and pushes their carry ons with the other. "Let's go"

We all start walking towards the gate and I can tell the little joke going around between the families as they giggle and share looks as they watch Alex and I walking side by side. This feels like middle school. We walk through the jet bridge, the kids running between us as they chase each other. A few 'stop it' and 'be careful' are shared between the parents and the kids, which only gets them more giggles from the five older munchkins.

We greet the flight attendants at the door of the plane as they guide us to our seats. Dee grins at me as Alex and I walk pass her since our seats are not with them.

"I think these are ours" Alex point at two lonely seats at the last row. There are a few seats taken close to us but overall lonely, the closest person is two rows in front of us.

Can they be any more obvious?

"Do you want the window or the aisle?" Alex asks me as he opens the overhead bin to place our carry ons inside. As he does so, his arms flex, making his biceps pop. Oh Chuck. "Y/N?"

"Uh, window" I blush as I realize he caught me spacing over his muscles. "If you don't mind"

"Not at all" His sweet smile spreads across his face and I push myself towards the window before I space out again.

"Y/N" I feel a soft tapping on my shoulder but I just shrug it off, pushing my face deeper into my soft pillow.

"Y/N" Something nudges me harder this time so I groan, ready to murder who ever dared to wake me.

"What?" I open my eyes only to find a very humored flight attendant and Alex blushing as I'm basically using him as my private bed. I feel my cheeks getting red by the second as I try to make up some words. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry"

I try to apologize to Alex as I move myself as far away from him as I can, until I feel my back touch the window.

"It's okay" Alex laughs as he looks at the flight attendant as she is waiting for me. "Mhmm, you have to order, Y/N"

"Oh, yes! Sorry" I look at her with a guilty look on my face but she just smiles in return. "I'll have apple juice and..."

"Chicken or meat sandwich?" The flight attendant replies as she notices that I don't know the options.

"Chicken will do" I try to ignore Alex as I grab the plate from her. "Thank you, and again, sorry"

She mumbles a 'it's no problem' before walking away, leaving us in dead silence. Great, now you have to make small talk.

"So, how long did I sleep" I question Alex as I unwrap my meal. He choose the meat one which actually seems better than my option.

"About an hour, I think" He smiles a little and then proceeds to take a large bite of his sandwich. "I slept, too"

I can barely make out his words but I manage to understand him somehow. We finish eating in silence, occasionally letting out a chuckle at the movie that's playing in the tiny monitors in front of us.

"I think I'm going to check on the others" I close my table, grabbing the left overs in my hands.

I try to push myself between the front seat and Alex's legs so he notices and tries to make as much space as he possibly can. While I'm squeezing myself past him, all I can hope is that there isn't any sudden turbulence that would land me on top of him. Please.

I manage to make it to the aisle without throwing myself on top of Alex so I give myself a mental high five. I walk to the back of the plane where a flight attendant takes my trash and helps me dispose it.

I make my way to the main aisle, looking for my entire group, which I thought they'd be easy to find since they are traveling with 8 kids so that means noise. But I notice they're sleeping when I find them, except for Tom, who's playing something on his iPad.

"Hi" I kneel on the aisle, between Gen and Vic, trying not to make too much noise since I would probably get murdered by all the grown ups if I wake even one kid up.

"Oh, hey" Gen smiles at me tiredly and I know she was almost falling asleep. "How's everything back there?"

"Good" I nod my head more than I should've, totally acting normal. "Nothing out of the ordinary"

"That's not what I saw" Vic raises her eyebrow as she looks for something in her bag. She pulls out her phone and then looks for something until she is basically shoving it in front of our faces. "Looks like cuddling to me"

I gasp as I watch myself resting on Alex's side as he has his head on top of mine, just as asleep as I am.

"When did you take that?" I try to grab the phone but Vic is quicker, pulling it away from my reach.

"When I went to the bathroom" She throws the phone back in her purse, giving me a triumphant smirk.

"Not even a day into the trip and you are already getting busy" Gen teases me as she wiggles her eyebrows exaggeratedly.

"I fell asleep" I grunt, pushing my head between my hands. "I wasn't doing it on purpuse"

"Sure, sure" Gen nods her head, with a mocking tone in her voice.

"Okay, I think I'm just gonna go" I stand up as Gen rolls her eyes, muttering something about me denying the truth.

I walk back to my seat to find Alex watching something on his phone. He looks up at me and then proceeds to give me space to take my seat. I'm about to say something when the flight attendant speaks through the microphone. Her words are really hard to make out but I manage to understand that we are starting the landing process. "Finally" I sigh, putting on my seat belt.

"Good to know you enjoyed my company" Alex laughs, obviously teasing me.

"I didn't mean it like that" I roll my eyes. "Besides, you made a really good pillow"

"Good to know" He grins so before my cheeks give me away, I look out the window.

Before we left the airport to drive to the Padalecki's beach house, we decided to rent some cars. Obviously each family picked a car so Alex and I are sharing a car together. Just the two of us.

"So what are you must excited about?" Alex asks me as he drives while I look out the passenger's side.

"Just relaxing in general" I breath out as I catch a beautiful house in a distance which I asume is the Padelecki's. "You?"

"Just getting a little bit of sun" Alex slows down as we aproach the house, Jared driving in front of us and Jensen and Misha following behind. "I love Canada but I seriously need some warm weather"

"Tell me about it" I sigh as I feel the beachy breeze through the car window. "I can't wait to get off this clothes and into my bikini and just take all the sun"

"Make sure to invite me" Alex winks at me and parks next to Jared's. He's out of the car before I can even react.

I don't give myself time to blush because I'm Y/N. I can flirt if I want to. And he is not going to intimidate me. Well, at least I won't let him know that he does.

Alex comes up at my side, opening the door for me so I take my chance. "If you keep being such a gentleman, maybe I will" I hold myself by his bicep before giving it a light squeeze. I walk towards the others and I know Alex is walking behind me, trying to hold back a smirk. I know this because I am doing just that.

"Let's get the luggage inside so I can show everyone their room and then we could go down to the beach to watch the sunset" Gen suggest as Jared unloads their bags from their car.

"Y/A" Gen calls me as Alex goes back to the car to get our things. "The house has four rooms so we are all taking one so..."

"Let me guess" I roll my eyes as Jared and Gen share a guilty but totally on purpose look. "Alex and I are sharing"

————————————————————————-

Sooo, this is my first Supernatural story. I don't know why I chose Alex as my first because I'm usually a Sam girl, occasionally a Dean girl, too. This is the first part of the series, I don't intend to make it really long but we'll see as we go. Hope you like it and if you got any tips or recommendations, just let me know! English is not my first language so bear with me if I make any mistakes. Thanks ❤��

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #alex calvert #alex calvert fanfiction #alex calvert smut #alex calvert fluff #alex x reader

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spootiliousrps · 5 years

Text

Drarry Take 2

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like drarry.

Stranger: Draco more or less disappeared after his pardon. He didn’t return to hogwarts to finish his education, he didn’t take a job within the magical world, nothing anyone made note of in any case. It wasn’t until years later that his name resurfaced, someone had spotted him, performing with an orchestra in a concert hall in south london playing the theremin. The next few days his face was everywhere, somehow more outraged that he dared show his face among muggles then if he’d cursed the minister. It also brought attention to the hall where he performed. Draco had tried ignoring it, apparating straight home out the back door but his friends were starting to notice how odd he was acting and one night they convinced him against his better judgement to go out and have a drink after the concert. “Hay Dee, I think someone has been checking you out, i saw him following us here after the show.” one of his friends snickered. Draco was well aware of who he was talking about. He supposed he should be happy it wasn’t a reporter from the prophet but Potter was hardly much of a step above. “Oh shut up would you.” he muttered, getting up from their booth. “this round’s on me, what do you want?” He asked the table.

You: [reading]

You: Harry Potter had been working as an aurora for some time now. After he finished his education at Hogwarts he felt it was the least he could do after the war. There were still DeathEaters out there that were dangerous; some even believed Voldemort could still be revived. Harry couldn't take that chance and he sure as hell wasn't going to allow them to hurt anyone else. So, he applied to be an Aurora and was immediately hired. Things had been going fairly smoothly over the last few years but lately... Well... He needed some help. Perferably from someone on the inside but there wasn't anyone that would be willing to at least not until he hear about Malfoy... It was a long shot but he was the only chance he had. So, here he was. He glanced up as Draco stood and moved to cut him off at the bar, knowing he'd be recognized if he hadn't been already.

Stranger: Draco stopped in his tracks as Harry came to stand in front of him. "I know you followed me from the consert. What are you doing here Potter?" He asked him trying his best to sound cool and collected even though it freaked him out quite a bit. he might not be the most caught up in the affairs of the magical world nowadays but he knew Potter was an auror now and those were never any good news.

You: Harry drew up short for a brief moment when they finally came face to face. Draco had always been handsome but in his maturity he was absolutely gorgeous. It took a moment for him to recover but when he did he sighed. "I'm sorry, I was trying to find a good opportunity to approach you." He admitted, before glancing over the blond's shoulder at the table of his friends. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Maybe I can buy you a drink?" He offered.

Stranger: "i'm just on my way to buy my own drink, but thanks." Draco said. "I'm out with my friends tonight if you hadn't already noticed." He told him and as he did he knew he had several of their eyes pealed at the back of his neck, no doubt curious about who this was. "What ever it is that you want to talk about you're going to have to say it here." He hoped that would shield him somewhat, Harry couldn't arrest him in the middle of a crowded muggle bar and he couldn't duel him ether as he half expected.

You: Harry pursed his lips in frustration. Of course, Draco was going to be difficult, he had always been that way. "I suppose you haven't changed much." He mused with a half smile at that. It was actually a bit of a relief. He wasn't sure what to expect when he went after the man but if he was close enough to what Harry remembered than he was sure he could handle him. His smile faded a bit, gaze going back to the group of friends that were waiting for the blond then back to him. "I need your help." He admitted in a bit of a whisper. "And I'm afraid you might be the only person that might be capable of assisting me." He admitted, rolling up his own sleeve to reveal the pale skin of his forearm, obviously hinting at the DeathEater mark on Draco's own.

Stranger: Draco's expression soured, from his nonchalant ease in to something much colder. "I have changed in fact." He mrmured, pushing up his own sleeve and showing what laid beneath his crisp white dress shirt. The skull and the snake were gone in favor of a new image, a dark crow with feathers of green and blue and black, completely covering any trace of what had once been underneath it. "So i'm not sure how i could help you with anything at all."

You: Harry's own expression turned to one of frustration. "You misunderstand Draco." He grumbled. "If I didn't believe you were a better person I wouldn't have come." He admitted, practically hissing the words. "I'm trying to save lives and you're the only person with-" He paused glancing at the group once more, making sure they couldn't hear. "With the /background/ needed to get the information I need." He explained.

Stranger: "I'm not interested in being the ministry's pet, i'm surprised you bent so willingly." Draco frowned. "I always thought you were a bit too much of an anarchist for this sort of thing, but maybe you grew out of that phase." He said, giving him a nonce over critically. Maybe he shouldn't be so bold, Harry was strong and clearly not just in terms of magic. Draco turned back to the Bar counter, paid for the drinks and took the tray back with him to his group of friends.

You: Harry's jaw set at that, bitting back a childish retort. He refused to lower himself. The ministry gave him access to resources he otherwise couldn't which made it ideal for hunting DeathEaters. It wasn't as if he were going to explain himself to the likes of Malfoy however. He watched the man collect the drinks, obviously fuming as he headed back to the table. "What if I told you, I could get your Mother out?" He asked loud enough for everyone to hear. He hadn't wanted to play that card but he had kept it just in case. Draco's mother had helped him during the war, the only reason she was in Azkaban was because Harry refused to testify for or against her. But if he approached the council now after all his achievements, and made it public that she was one of the reasons they had won, then the ministry would have no choice but to release her. The public would always believe Harry Potter, their savior.

Stranger: Draco almost dropped the drinks entirely but instead just set the tray down hard on the table ant whipped around at Harry. "Get out of here you fucking monster." He snarled. He knew Harry could have gotten her out just like he had done for Draco but instead he'd stayed quiet, letting them throw her in that wretched place and now it seemed to all be to be able to wave it in front of Draco's nose.

You: Harry expected the anger but it didn't mean it didn't hurt. He kept his expression even as he nodded somberly. "Alright, Draco." He agreed, lifting his hands up in surrender. "But I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the next few nights if you change your mind." He offered as he tugged out a card and set it on the bar next to him before turning away. "I hope you do." He added softly before disappearing.

Stranger: "not bloody fucking likely unless you actually do something about her." Draco yelled after him, gaining the attention of the entire bar as he raised his voice. His friends tried to shush him, to get to explain what this was all about but he couldn't tell them any of this. On thing was for certain though he wouldn't fall for empty promises,

You: [btw I absolutely love your Draco :3 Thank you so much for this gem!]

Stranger: (Oh thank you i'll do my best to keep this up ^^ )

You: Harry waited for the other man to appear for a full day but he never came. He wasn't too surprised. Draco was nothing if not stubborn. Still, he contemplated meeting the man's demands. If he got his mother released, would he still be able to trust the other man's information? He supposed he didn't really have a choice. So, after making a few calls he set up a private press conference, keeping it as quiet as possible to ensure the ministry knew nothing of it; and within the next two days every reputable news paper in the Wizarding world had Harry Potter on the front page along with an article that reported in detail how Draco's mother saved his life and helped win the war. All he had to do now was wait for the outrage towards the ministry which would see the woman released... Granted she'd be in danger from both sides but Draco would get what he wanted.

Stranger: Draco Rarely paid any attention to the magical news papers and he'd almost dismissed his encounter with potter as a bad dream when he was swarmed by witches and wizards one night after his performance, most of them were reporters and shoved their cameras in his face with apearantly no regard for how much attention they brought from the general muggle public. All of them demanded answers on how he felt about Potters press conference and about the prospect of his mother being released. After he finally managed to excape, leaving almost all of the questions herled at him unanswered the first thing he did when he got home was writing to Harry. Potter, Thank you for getting my mother released. But what i said still stands, I don't understand how you expect me to help you, or what you think i know. I broke with the magical world, and for good reason, for both of our sake. //DM

You: The onslaught of Howlers and threatening letters was overwhelming and as soon as they arrived Harry tended to tear them up rather than read them. Which meant he almost miss Draco's. Almost. He caught sight of the return address and broke the seal immediately, scanning the paper quickly before rereading the words. He scribbled a quick response before sending it. Draco, Its best if we discuss this in person. Meet me at the same pub as before. Tomorrow. 3PM. HP

Stranger: Potter, I cant tomorrow, i have practice which i simply cant miss. I'll see you Friday at 11 am, the coffee shop right next to it. //DM Draco refused to let Harry take control of this, i he really needed Draco's help he'd have to play nice about it. That and he was going to get the position of a solist and the next day would be the first day practicing the piece with the entire orchestra.

You: Harry frowned at the response. Of course Draco wanted to take control of everything. Fine. Harry would play along. Draco, Fine. Tomorrow. Make sure its just you. HP

Stranger: Potter, I dont appreciate your tone, and you better show me the same curtsy in that case. DM

You: Malfoy, You're a massive pain in the arse, as always. I've practically ruined my career and reputation for this. Forgive me if I'm a bit sour. HP

Stranger: Potter, You say "massive pain in the arse" as if you still have the right to pretend like you know me. I haven't even seen you in years. And it's not my fault that you ruined your reputation, you could have done the right thing from the beginning and told them what my mother did for you. //DM

You: Draco, I will see you tomorrow. We can discuss this then. HP

Stranger: Draco didn't feel the need to answer the last message, getting the last word wasn't always worth it and he didn't plan on wasting more ink on Harry then necessary. At least not until he stopped acting like a complete prick.

You: Harry was annoyed to say the least but he did his best to ignore it all. An hour before their designated time Harry was at the Coffee shop, watching the patrons as he waited for the blond, making sure that no one was lingering longer than they should.

Stranger: Draco showed up five minutes late, a bag over his choulder and dressed more cassually then he'd ever done as he grew up. He'd given up the dark cloaks and seveere suits for black jeans and an oliv green jacket over a turtle neck. He walked up to the front counter, not even sparing harry a look yet and chatted a little with the barista as she made him Cappuccino. Him, as well as his colleges from the orchestra came here often enough that he was recognized and he wanted Harry to see that, hopefully that would make him behave somewhat. "Ta." He said cheerfully and took his cup. He walked over to the table Harry had picked and sat down, putting his bag on the chair to his right. "So?" He asked expectantly.

Stranger: (brb)

Stranger: (back^^

You: Harry glanced up as the blond entered and gave a heavy sigh at the production the man gave. He really hadn't changed, aside from the clothes. Though... they were fitting and not bad on the eyes at all. No, he couldn't think like that, he needed to focus. He gave the man a flat look before mumbling a charm so they couldn't be overheard. "So, I did what you asked." He stated flatly. "Now, its your turn. I need information on the current plans of some local DeathEaters. I know you've left that life behind but... Well, they may not know that."

Stranger: "I don't have any contact with them, nor do i know what they are up to." Draco told him simply and then had a sip of his coffee. "Besides, my reputation with them wasn't so good by the end of the war in any case so if you're asking me to become your spy you're out of luck." Draco said. He knew it wasn't what Harry wanted to hear but it was the truth. Harry could be angry if he liked.

You: "I know." Harry answered simply. "But that could change. It wouldn't be for long. I just need someone to get close enough to find out where they're holding prisoners." Harry explained. "I wouldn't be coming to you if this wasn't important." He pointed out. The statement was obvious. If what Harry was saying was true; he had practically ruined his career at the mere chance he /might/ get the information he needed. It was obvious that this was important to him; far more important than he was trying to let on.

Stranger: Draco leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. "I don't know where they are harry." It was the first time he'd used his first name so maybe he'd listen this time. "If they saw me i doubt i'd get a warmer welcome then you. Some things happened by the end of the war that means i wouldn't be welcomed even if i tried."

You: "It doesn't matter!" Harry snapped as he slammed his fist on the table angrily, making a few of the customers glance there way. He seemed to notice his mistake and took a few deep breaths, running a hand through his messy locks. "Sorry..." He mumbled, glancing away and lowering his voice. "I can get you in. Provide them with information about me. They can have me! They won't pass up that chance. I just need that information! Please, Draco! You're the only chance I've got." He practically pleaded.

Stranger: Draco flinched, startled by the outburst. "They've taken someone." It wasn't even a question, Harry had mentioned prisoners and obviously this was someone close to Harry. "Who is it they have?"

You: Harry's jaw clenched at question, obviously considering not answering for a moment but eventually sighing. "Rose and Hugo Weasley." He grumbled between his clenched teeth. "Ron and Hermoine's children." He explained, glancing away, pain obvious in his dark gaze.

Stranger: Draco sighed deeply. "Well i certainly understand why you're so dead set on it." Draco mumbled, and yet it didn't make him any more willing to help him. His mother would be released, there was no stopping that now so Harry didn't have that dangling over his head anymore. He didn't have anything on Draco. "It's a big thing to ask of me harry, bigger then you even realize. Why should i help you?"

You: Harry sighed at that, scrubbing a hand down his face in exasperation. "I dunno, Malfoy; the goodness of that cold black heart of yours?" He shot back in annoyance. "Or maybe, because now you mother is in more danger than before. When she's released both sides are going to be looking for blood. I can protector her. Or you just want me gone... I don't plan on going anywhere until you help me Malfoy.... You thought I was annoying in school... I am so much worse now."

Stranger: "If i were you i'd be careful with insulting me." Draco said coldly, his mouth forming a thin line. "Do you even have a plan for this? I doubt it, i think you hoped you could just intimidate me and i'd have all the answers waiting on a platter for you. what is it exactly you want me to do?"

You: "Or what?" Harry responded with a glare before he gave another huff at the questions. "I do." He admitted. "I have an informant but he's practically useless. He's told me where I can find one of the hideouts but it doesn't do me much good. I can't just walk in and demand answers... But if someone were to get the better of me... tie me up and present me too them... perhaps an old rival... someone who had made it public their disdain for me... then they'd have an in... They could get the information needed and give it to someone that could do something about it... Like Hermoine." He explained, making it obvious that he didn't plan on surviving this.

Stranger: "That's the best you could come up with?" Draco frowned. "If i was them i'd simply kill you then and there, and then kill those kids as well for good measure." He huffed. "That's a fucking idiotic plan and i'm not putting myself through that risk, what's to say they wont kill me, or worse, the moment they've gotten rid of you? Who are these death eaters anyways?" He asked, of the ones who were left there wasnt a single one he'd imagine to have any mercy for ether of them.

You: "Do you think I would have come to you of all people if I had any sort of choice?!" He snapped. "Have you got a better idea?! Or are you just that content to let two innocent children die because you think you're so god damn better than everyone? What makes your life more important to theirs? Newsflash, Malfoy: No one's life is better than anyone else's. If it were I probably wouldn't have spared the time to go back for you all those years ago."

Stranger: "I dont think i'm better then anyone else but i can do simple math and two people dead, even children, is better the four people dead and i rather fancy sticking around for a bit longer even if you dont." Draco said. He took a sip of his forgotten coffee, luke warm at this point and then leaned forward. "

Stranger: (not done)

Stranger: "Dont be an idiot Harry, there must be a better option then this, who are they? Avery? Lestrange? Greyback- surely not...." he trailed off.

You: "I'm open to suggestions but if it comes down to my life or their's I'm risking it." Harry scoffed before his brows furrowed and he stared down at his coffee silently for a moment. "I dunno... I'd put my money on Lestrange... but I can't be sure. There just isn't enough information, thats one of the reasons I'm so desperate." He sighed in defeat.

Stranger: Draco sighed deeply, an attempt to calm himself, okay, so it might not be Greyback. "How were they taken?" Draco asked him quietly..

You: "Hermoine was on a business trip for the Headmistress, leaving the kids with Ron. They're fairly attached to their mother so he took them with him to visit his parents when they attacked. Mrs. Weasley managed to kill two of them but Arthur was injured and the children were taken before it was all over." He explained, still staring down at the white lid.

Stranger: "I'm sorry." Draco mumbled, it was awful if nothing else. "What has this informant told you about them? and well, who is the informant?"

You: Harry sighed, toying with the cup as he spoke. "Not much. He doesn't know who it was but there are only a few left that would have the balls to do this... His name is Henry. He mostly runs errands for them. He's mute so its not a if he can rat on them easily which also makes him ideal for an informant."

Stranger: "So how do you get information from him? do you know BSL?" He asked, that sure was a skill he hadnt expected harry to have although he supposed it wasnt too out of the realm of possibilities. "I want to meet him."

You: Harry nodded. "Hermoine taught me during our last year at Hogwarts." He acknowledged. "I'm passable at it." He shrugged. His gaze narrowed at the mention of meeting him however, brow arching. "Does that mean your willing to help?"

Stranger: "Yes. but i'm not going on any suicide missions, you'll have to do that on your own."

You: Harry gave a small snort of that, a large smile playing on his lips. "Deal." He chuckled, his whole face lighting with relief. He checked his watch briefly. "I know where he tends to hang out in about half an hour."

Stranger: "Right...." Draco said quietly. "Where is that?" He frowned, he didnt like how exited Harry got, it felt unnerving considering what it was they were discussing.

You: "He'll probably be dropping off the weekly portion of ale to Hogsmead." He explained with a shrug.

Stranger: "I'm sure it's not suspicious at all that you meet him here for your friday night date every week." Draco snorted.

You: Harry arched a brow obviously confused by that. "I don't meet him every week and I don't go as myself."

Stranger: "What ever you say. Fine, i'll come with you."

You: "Great! We should get going. I think I have some polyjuice left." He mumbled more to himself as he stood.

Stranger: "And do you also have hairs from two different people?" Draco asked. "It'll look odd if we both go as the same guy."

You: Harry chuckled at that. "I've got it covered, don't worry about it." He shrugged.

Stranger: Draco rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Stop looking so smug it doesnt suit you."

You: Harry's smile only widened at that, obviously in a far better mood than when he had first arrived. The relief of having Draco helping was almost palpable. He moved to get the door for the blond. "I will when you do." Harry retorted.

Stranger: "Except smugness does suit me." Draco told him and got up, hos coffee was cold anyways, no point in finishing it thoguh it was a shame, this little palace knew it's coffee.

You: "That is highly debatable." He teased as he waited for him. "Come to think of it, though I think I have the perfect disguise for you." He grinned, obviously up to something.

Stranger: "In that case i want the other one." Draco said tiredly, he wasn't at all a fan of Harry bouncing up and down grinning at him like that.

You: "It wouldn't make since for his regular meet up to suddenly forget BSL." He pointed out.

Stranger: "I know something better then BSL." Draco huffed.

You: "Oh, and what would that be?" Harry asked with an arched brow as the walked.

Stranger: "Legillimency." Draco said, following Harry out from the coffee shop, zipping up his jacket from the cold.

You: Harry pursed his lips at that, obviously unsure about it. "How long has it been since you've done something as complicated as Legilimency?" He asked. "You've been in the muggle world for some time now Draco."

Stranger: "It's not complicated once you learn it, if you have at least a little bit of the gift. I use it plenty. Especially since it's one of the few kings of magic i can reliably preform candles as i am."

You: Harry obviously wasn't too convinced. "No offense rather make sure." He replied. He had gone up against Legilimency enough that he was certain he could keep Draco from certain memories and thoughts that he didn't want the man to know. "We need to stop by my rooms to get the potion. If you don't mind you can use it on me first." He offered. "Its nothing against you I just don't want to loose an informant unnecessarily."

Stranger: "Suit yourself." Draco said, the insult stung a bit but it couldn't be helped, and if he got to take a peak in to Harry's mind he wouldn't pass up the chance. Though it did worry him what he might find there. that it might not be like anyone elses considering what his psyche had gone through.

You: Harry remembered the last time someone had tried using Legillimency on him. He had just applied to the ministry. The wizard who attempted it had just been looking for alterior motives but as they delved into some of Harry's more charished memories Harry grew defensive, throwing image after image of the deaths he had had to endure... Serius, Dumbledor, Fred, the ones he had killed himself as well... The guilt that came with. By the end of it the other wizard was collapsed in tears while Harry shed only a few, accustomed to the pain. If Draco decided to dig where he didn't belong Harry was prepared to do the same, though he hoped it would come to that... Then again it was possible Draco was a better wizard that the ministry had... honestly it was likely. When they were out of sight, Harry offered out his arm to the blond so that they could aparate. "Ready?" He asked calmly.

Stranger: "What ever." Draco muttered, taking his arm. He hated side allong appariton but he supposed taking the tube wasn't an option in this case. He hadnt been in the leaky cauldrun in years, when he said he'd turned his back on the wizarding world he had truly meant it and he dound he missed it far less then he had first expected.

You: Harry gave a small huff at the response and soon enough they appeared in his room. He shrugged off his coat, draping it over the back of a chair before moving to dig in the bag atop it for the small vials of potions.

Stranger: Draco sat down in a chair, willing his stomach not to turn inside out. "what am i goign to look like then once i drink that wretched shit?" He asked, if the apparating didn't do the trick he'd certainly puke from the potion.

You: "Well I was tempted to turn you into a woman I met on a corner once." He admitted with a straight face "But if you're going to be sour about it I've got a lawyer from Ireland." He admitted as he moved to set the potions down and produced a small bill fold with a few hairs inside, each bagged and labeled neatly. He didn't add them just yet, however. Instead he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, obviously wanting to test Draco first.

Stranger: "Ha ha. let's turn the pretty one in to a woman, he already looks like a girl anyways." Draco muttered sourly. He got up, pulled the chair in front of harry so he could sit in front of him. "Hide what you must." He told him, very clearly not amused by what Harry had said.

You: "I thought so, though I would argue you don't look like a girl." He countered with a shrug. He nodded as he closed his eyes, mostly hiding things that could be used against him. His thoughts towards Draco, memories he held fondly of the young blond who always picked on him. The pain... the death... the abuse his family inflicted on him. "Okay." He agreed, having prepared himself.

Stranger: "Look at me." Draco told him, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knee's. Once Harry locked eyes with him he dove in whiteout warning. Draco was nothing like Severus, he didn't need to use brute force to extend his min to Harry, He came from a long line of legilimences after all and though he was by no mens a born natural he'd gotten good out of necessity.

You: Harry met his eyes but the closeness was suddenly very off putting causing him to flush. "Wait!" Harry rushed but it was too late his defenses had already faltered and Draco's conciousness was already weaving its way through his mind. He could feel his thoughts of the man come up... The way his new clothes hugged him just right, the way Draco smiling at his friend made Harry a bit too warm. He scrambled for defense, throwing the memory of Fred's death at him. It didn't seem to have too much affect and then a memory of the first time they met and Harry's immediate crush. This was so much easier when he didn't have a connection with the wizard performing the legilimency... But with Draco here, so close it was hard to avert his thoughts. He threw the memory of Serius dying. Then it was back to Draco and the panic Harry felt at the thought of the boy dying, Harry scrambling to save the boy he had been obsessed with for years. Harry began to throw everything at him at once, the war, his family, the kidnapping, everything he could think of to get Draco out of his head.

You: [I took a few liberties sorry. ^^; if you want me to rewrite it I can.]

Stranger: (N it¨s absolutely fine)

Stranger: Draco didn't have to do much other then wait and watch as Harry's stream of consciousnesses washed over him, the feelings, short snippets of conversation and Harry's feeble attempts to try to shock him with gruesome memories of grief and loss and death. Draco leaned back after he had seen what it really was he was interested in, the day in 6'th year when harry had come after him. He pulled out of his mind just as gently as he had entered though he held the eye contact. "I've seen some horrible shit too harry, you would have had better luck by actually using the techniques Severus taught you, even though i know you never listened to him." That was not something he'd seen from Harry's mind however, that little bit he'd learnt from Severus mind himself.

You: Harry glared at him, eyes a bit watery from tears that he was fighting back. So, his feeling for Draco were out in the open and all the other man could do was laugh at him. Typical. He gave a scoff at the words and stood, moving to the dresser where he had set the potions and opened them, dropping the last piece inside of each before offering the other out wordlessly. "I was a fool." He stated. "I couldn't see what Snape was until it was too late and will forever regret it." He admitted. "Drink. We should get going." he added just as somberly.

Stranger: Draco had felt the feelings harry had towards him, truth was once upon a time Draco would have returned them but he'd had that taken out of him quickly enough as soon as his aunt bella had figured it out. He wasn't even going to let himself dwell on it now. Draco frowned at harry. "What do you mean what Snape was?" He asked, he had a feeling Harry must have misunderstood everything.

You: Harry rolled his eyes. "Severus Snape was the best man I ever had the privilege of meeting... Had I known that back then... then I might have been inclined to listen a bit more. As it is... Well, I'm not the same person I was." He admitted. "Now, we should get going."

Stranger: "Sever was never the best anything." Draco said, what on earth could have made Harry think that.

You: Harry shot him another glare. "He's the reason you're still alive. I would show at least some respect." He grumbled.

Stranger: "Sure, that doesn't make him good." Draco said lowly. "it doesn't make him righteous or noble or anything worth celebrating."

You: Harry couldn't handle it any more. Something inside him snapped. "He killed Dumbledor for you, you twit." He snapped. "He helped the Order of the Pheonix rise against Voldemort multiple times. He /died/ to protect me, so I could defeat Voldemort! He protected both of us at the cost of his own life. If you want to show his memory disrespect do it on your own time but make damned sure I'm not around to hear it." He warned. "He is a hero. Which is much less than I can say for you." He scoffed. He knew he probably shouldn't be lecturing the man he needed help from but he just couldn't stand it... not anymore, not after such a clear rejection from the blond.

Stranger: "He did it to serve himself. He never even had enough of a spine to stand up for himself, or your mother, which... well lets not even fucking open that kan of worms. He was a coward, an absolutely vial man, driven by revenge and love - if you can even call it that - an obsession over someone who had been dead for over a decade. He groomed you, and me, to become what we did, just as much as Dumbledore did and don't you dare defending him as well." Draco hissed at him. "He never cared for you, he just couldn't bare shutting those eyes again, because they were /hers/ not becasue /you/ were worth anything."

You: Harry was practically fuming at the words. "What the hell do you know?! You've never looked at anything past yourself! That's all you've ever cared about!" He spat back. "Sure he wasn't perfect but he did his best. He did what was right all you ever did was follow whatever path was put in front of you; constantly handed everything while the rest of us had to work for all of it! You want to know what he's done for you? Use your Legilimency! See how wrong you are."

Stranger: Draco just stared at him for a moment. "You know what? I'm done here. Good luck getting those kids back." He said and got up, sippingh is jacket back up and then exited the room, hurrying downstairs and then out on to the street, stalking off towards the nearest tube station.

You: "Fine! It was a long shot anyways! I should have known you wouldn't do anything if you didn't get anything out of it!" He called after him just as the door slammed behind the blond. He sank down onto the bed in defeat, dropping his head into his hands completely lost as to what to do next.

Stranger: Draco was fuming his entire way home. The utter narcisism of Harry's actions, of how he was so sure he was right all the time, it irked Draco to no end. Why should he help him if all he was going to do was look down on Draco anyways. In many ways Severus might be more alike Harry then he thinks. It made him even more uncomfortable with the feelings Harry's memories had displayed. how attracted he was to Draco, how much he seemed to hate it with his entire being, pushing it away, out of mind.

You: It took a few hours for Harry to calm himself. By the time he did he was filled with regret. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He supposed he could find someone else to try and get information from Henry but... Well he didn't trust anyone. Still... He had pushed Draco away now... Still, he needed to apologize. Maybe if he went to one of his shows...

Stranger: Draco was preforming as part of a smaller orchestra for the opera the next week, it was the final repetition before the premier and as such students and such were welcome to buy cheap tickets to be able to watch the play. He was down in the orchestra ditch, facing the director, leading the piece as Ophelia descended in to her grave.

You: Harry spent the next week gathering as much information as possible on the group that took the children. They had made some progress but not much. However, only a day before Hermoine had received a letter, demanding Harry's death for the Children. Harry was more than willing but Draco's words kept echoing in his head. The kids weren't getting out alive no matter if he did or not. So, when the show came... Harry was there, bouquet in hands as the show finished.

Stranger: Draco had tried not to think too much about Harry, of course his heart when out to the children but it had been a long shot even by the best of circumstances, it hadn't been fair of Harry to demand his help in the first place. That was what he told himself. He'd taken off the tail-coat and was having a smoke just out the back with one of the performance in the opera. He was flirting with him and Draco tried his best not to notice it.

You: Harry approached the two, having sneaked past security, looking a bit nervous as he approached. He waited until he caught Draco's eye, not wanting to interrupt, before giving a small crooked smile and a small wave, flowers tucked in the crook of his arm.

Stranger: "What's this?" Draco asked him, trying to sound composed but failing miserably. The man who had playded the Horatio looked equally perplexed, especially becasue of Draco's reaction to the flowers, no doubt he'd thoguh it was for him first. Who would ever care enough to bring flowers to one of the orchestra?

You: Harry approached looking a bit bashful as he offered the flowers out to the blond. "I... saw your performance." He admitted lamely. "You're much better than I expected." He added before tensing as he realized how that sounded. "I mean! You were amazing! Not that I thought you'd be bad! I've just never really focused on... Well anything musical...." He rushed making things worse and flushing.

Stranger: "Mate, i think you're going to have to do better then that i'f you're trying to win him back?" THe bloke said. That mad Draco smile a bit, wasnt that the truth. He accepted the flowers however, what else was he supposed to do? "I think that's more to do with the fact that you've never been to an opera before. or a consert prior to last week." Draco said.

You: Harry flushed deeper at the other man's words and glanced away though he gave a small snort at Draco's. "Is it that obvious?" He mumbled. "Listen... I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was emotional and stupid. What can I do to make it up to you?" He asked softly.

Stranger: "I dont know, I've never ever done anything that wasnt in my own best interest so i'm not really sure what could make me more sympathetic towards you." Draco said coldly. He heard a whistle from the other guy. "I'll leave you to it, seems you need a talk." He said, patting Draco's shoulder before disaearign back inside.

You: Harry straightened a bit at that. "Fair dis..." He acknowledged with a nod. "I deserved that." He acknowledge. "But to be fair... You do like proving me wrong." He countered with a small smile. "Maybe you could do it this time as well?"

Stranger: "I really don't think i could help you with those kids harry. I saw the article, Greyback and lestrange has them and if ether of them ever saw me again they'd kill me... only first they'd torture me... among other things."

You: Harry bit his bottom lip and nodded. "I know." He nodded. "They're calling for my head." He admitted with a shrug. "Not surprising but you've kinda made me want to keep it where its at." He admitted with a humorless chuckle. "I thought... that maybe... you wouldn't try that skill of your's on Henry?" He asked. "Its a long shot but its the only one I have. If you're still willing, that is... I don't really trust anyone else." He admitted, staring at his feet as he rocked back and forth.

Stranger: "That was to find out who was doing this, i'm not sure what else i could get out of him that you couldn't with sign language." He explained. "I'm not an auror, really you should put together a team, make up a plan and tryto extract them... i think that would be yor best shot."

You: Harry gave another somber nod. "Right." He mumbled softly, shoulders slumping slightly. "Well... Thank you, anyways." He offered with a soft sad smile. "I appreciate you trying." He added before turning to go.

Stranger: "You're also shit at flirting." Draco heard himself saying as Harry turned around. He just needed to get that out there.

You: Harry paused at that, silent for a moment before he began chuckling. "Fair enough. But you were always out of my league anyways, so whats the point of trying?" He countered with a shrug.

Stranger: "RIght, well in that case you can go." Draco mumbled, looking down at the flowers and tossing them in the dumpster, along with the butt of his fag.

You: Harry visibly flinched as the flowers were tossed aside. That stung. "If you didn't like the flowers you could have just said so." He countered with a sigh. "Would I have had a chance anyways?" He asked, gaze curious, obviously worried about how Draco would answer.

Stranger: "What would be the point now?" Draco asked bluntly. "Besides, you dont seem to like me, or have ever liked me. you just think i'm pretty."

You: Harry seemed a bit confused at that. "You're joking right?" He scoffed, he waited a moment before rolling his eyes. "You really are dense. I've never just thought of you as just attractive." He huffed, heart beginning to race, the words coming out a bit forceful as his adrenalin picked up. "Please! You're smart, funny, witty, you demand respect from everyone, your talented and know it... You're practically fearless... You go after whatever you want at the time and don't let anyone hold you back. Sure you're pretty... But if that's all you think you are... all you think I see... Then maybe... Well, maybe you're not as smart as I thought." He huffed, arms folded over his chest as he glanced away. "Or you're just fishing for a bloody compliment and I'm stupid enough to bite."

Stranger: "You think i'm egotistical, heartless and mean." Draco said firmly. "You've said as much, and thought it, multiple times. i've been inside that head of yours. You're pulled between those two, frustration and anger that i dont do what you want me to do and then then you drool over wanting me, trying ot push those thoughts away and failing.

You: Harry scrubbed a hand down his face and frustration. "You didn't pay much attention while you were in there then." He scoffed. "Yeah... I tell myself those thing... That your heartless... think of no one but yourself... A right arse. And sometime..." He sighed, holding himself a bit tighter. "Sometimes I manage to convince myself that their true... But only for a moment." He admitted looking a bit ashamed. "I do try not to think of you the way I do because... Well... Because I'm weak okay!" He spat angrily. Why was his defense mechanism anger? "Because if I allow myself to grow attached to anyone they die! Or they run! Everyone who gets close to me is in danger! Everyone who has died is because of me! I might as well have killed them with my own hands! So yeah, I try to convince myself that you're a horrible human being to protect myself because in realty I'm the monster, just like you said." The last words were a soft pained whisper as he couldn't bring himself to meet Draco's gaze. "Happy now?"

Stranger: Draco shook his head. "We don't know each other, why do you pretend like we do? It's been 6 years since the war, i don't know the first thing about you, and you dont know the first thing about me. What ever feelings you had towards me back in school don't really apply.... I don't think i could be more different from back then if i tried. You make me feel like i haven't grown at all."

Stranger: (brb)

You: Harry's jaw set at that and he nodded. He was silent for a long moment as if fighting with himself. "Fine." He acknowledged. "Maybe we don't....But... I'd like to." He shrugged. "Would you at least let me buy you a drink?" He asked, "Maybe dinner... If I don't piss you off too badly." What did he have to lose....

Stranger: "A drink. fine..." Draco mumbled. "But dont you have some kids to save first?" Draco asked. "I think i'm going to take up mr horatio's offer for tonight." He said though he instantly regretted it. He did always have to come out on top, often to the deprimerat of his relationship to others.

You: "Mr. Horaito?" Harry mumbled piecing together what he meant a bit slowly. He nodded. He was jealous sure but now wasn't the time to do anything about it. "Right. Well, like you said... I'll need a team and I won't be able to get one together until tomorrow." He pointed out, knowing his ties with the ministry had been cut because of the press conference but hoping Draco wasn't aware of it. "So tonight, I suppose I'll simply have the opportunity of enjoying your company... Maybe you can tell me how you became so talent?" He offered.

Stranger: (Oh no i think you misunderstood, i meant that draco implied he would hook up with the actor who played horatio)

You: [No I got it. No worries, I suppose I should have been more clear srry.] *"Mr. Horatio?" Harry mumbled, before the realization hit him, of course Draco wanted to have dinner with the man he had been speaking to.He was jealous sure but now wasn't the time to do anything about it. "Right. Well, like you said... I'll need a team and I won't be able to get one together until tomorrow." He pointed out, knowing his ties with the ministry had been cut because of the press conference but hoping Draco wasn't aware of it. "So tonight, I suppose I'll simply have the opportunity of enjoying your company... Maybe you can tell me how you became so talent?" He offered.

Stranger: "I practiced allot." Draco said flatly. "There isn't really a grand story to it. Allot of practice and being at the right place at the right time... Sleeping with the right person didn't hurt ether." He gave a slight smile. "Harry, I'm not going to hang out with you all night...."

You: Harry gave a huff of feigned amusement at the joke. "Yes, Draco; I am aware. But you said yes to a drink and I count that as a win. No take backs. I've just better make sure its a really long one so you don't run off on me as quickly as I expect you'll want to." He teased.

Stranger: "I said a drink. not tonight unless you'd like to listen to him." Draco nodded back towards the door, meaning the bloke from earlier. "Doing a much better job of flirting."

You: Harry's face fell a bit at that. "Right... Sorry." He mumbled a bit dejected. "Well... for what its worth. I hope you have a nice night." Harry replied, with another sad smile. "Don't have too much fun without me." He teased, though the words seemed a bit more sad than usual.

Stranger: "We'll see." Draco mumbled, that was really all up to the other guy. "Send me an owl once this mess has blown over, whichever way it goes." He mumbled. "You should owl my mother too, she wants to thank you."

You: "Right. Will do." He nodded, knowing he probably wouldn't. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Stranger: "Yeah." Draco sighed. "Talk care Harry." He murmured softly and then went back inside to the backstage aria.

You: It was two days before the news came. Apparently Harry went on the suicide mission after all, though this time, he simply gave himself to Lestrange rather than try any disguises. The news was everywhere he was either presumed dead or soon to be.

Stranger: Draco was saddened by the news but he still felt glade he hadnt taken that drink with harry, it would have made it all that much harder to bear. In any case he was bussy a it was, trying to take care of his mother nad nurse her back to health. SHe'd taken better to Azkaban wthen anyone could have hoped and she wasnt nearly as crazy as the time she had served would suggest.

You: The rest of the world seemed to mourn for a few days before the news blew over. It was another few weeks before Harry managed to get out. Lestrange was dead and the children were alive though a bit battered... Harry however, was in a bad way. Somehow they managed to keep the news quiet which was surprising and despite the ministries

You: ' orders Harry just managed to sneak out or his confinements just in time for one of Draco's shows... flowers in hand.

Stranger: Draco made his first preformance as a soloist, for the first time all the focus was on him as he set the melody for the show. He'd been so nervous he could barely eat or sit down all day, something which wasn't helped by the fact that he had his mother in the crowd, front row in fact, he could see her from where he sat, playing his theremin.

You: Harry made sure he was in the back, close to an exit, making sure he couldn't be seen. He'd wait until the end of the show before sneaking back stage. Regardless, he was blown away by the preformence. He knew Draco was talented but just how talented was something he hadn't expected.

Stranger: Every tone was on point, every vibrato, Draco did the best show of his life and at the end of it as the orchestra took their praise he walked down the front steps, Wrapping his arms rightly around his mother. She was crying pressing a kiss to his forehead and then a rose in to his hand. He lead her back stage, as the applause still shook the hall, wanting to show her what his life was like now.

You: Harry made his way back stage just as they finished, waiting my Draco's dressing room, head bowed. He was certain that no one there knew who he was but the world though he was dead and he needed to keep it that way. Still he held the flowers loosely in the crook of his arm, chocolates in the other.

Stranger: Draco opened the door to the dressing room which was asigned to him for the night and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw him, a ghost, a bloody ghost in the flesh. His mother peaked over his shoulder, seeinng who it was and she gasped. "Harry potter." as if she didnt even understood what the words meant)

#drarry #Draco Malfoy #harry potter #rp #omegle

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killingmebtob · 5 years

Text

Vindictive: When An Angel Falls [Part Three]

Collaboration between Chi and Sara

Author: @killingmebtob // Chi

Title: Vindictive: When An Angel Falls

Characters: BTOB and Reader A

Summary: Things are about to get more serious as secrets and theories unfold.

Author’s Note: Sorry, this one took a while-- a really loooong while. Please give us feedback about the story. We’d love to hear from you :)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three ---

"A bottle of your finest wine please," Sungjae handed the menu back to the waiter.

Truth is, he didn't even glance at it. He just said some really strange words, that I assumed were food, like he already knew what he was going to order. He did ask me what I wanted but I just let him decide for me.

"Wine in the middle of the day?" I asked, bewildered. I was not used to drinking during lunch time.

He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with a few sips. This place makes the best steak and the wine will go well with it."

Wow, he ordered steak!

I wondered how much that would cost. I mentally counted how money much I have left, hoping that it could cover what he just ordered. He asked me to treat him to lunch as payback for what I owed.

My mind was so absorbed in the Reaper's case that I forgot that I owed someone money. If I hadn't ran into him, I wouldn't have remembered.

Well, he kind of stalked me, I think. I didn't know how long he had been beside me, not until he asked, "Penny for your thoughts?" I looked to where the voice came from and there he was, slowly driving his red car near the sidewalk, matching my pace.

His ride wasn't that hard to miss if I wasn't too absorbed in my own thoughts.

My research about the Reaper was very fruitful. I gathered a lot of information regarding the drug that he used on all of his victims. The guy I met from the library, Changsub, was right. The book he recommended did help me understand a lot of things. Of course, he gave me a lot of help too. He asked me out for coffee and that was when I asked him some questions about the drug.

That's not all that we've talked about, of course. He was quite a warm person, talking to him seemed so natural and time just passed by.

I was feeling giddy when I travelled back to my apartment. Happy that my research was doing well and because I met a great guy. But, my good mood didn't last long when I found a note in my mailbox.

Four words were scrawled on a plain white paper:

Curiosity kills the cat.

That was it. Nothing else.

I didn't know whom it was from or why I received the note but I had a feeling that I was being watched.

Truth was, I had been feeling it for a few weeks already. I thought at first that it was just paranoia and that no one was following me but the note confirmed it.

I wanted to report it to the police but that might lead them to investigate me. I thought that they might find the data I have and that I was doing an investigation of my own about the Reaper.

"So, let's get to know each other," Sungjae’s voice snapped me back to the restaurant. His elbows were on the table as his fingers interlocked under his chin, cupping his face. His eyes were on me like he genuinely wanted to give me his full attention.

I felt my cheeks flush. I was being unfair to him. I owed him not only because he paid for my hospital bill but also because he took me to the hospital to have me treated and stayed with me. The least I could do for him was to treat him to lunch and to be physically and mentally present. But there I was, my mind was preoccupied.

Maybe he just wanted to be friends. I could use another friend here in the city for the days that my other friend is busy. Sometimes, I get lonely.

The food was great and Sungjae was a good company. He was like a good friend that I've known for some time. Of course, there were some things about him that tick me off but not entirely. Like how he really has some air of arrogance in him. He kept on bragging about how he frequented the restaurant we were in.

“You haven't figured out who I am, have you?” Sungjae asked in the middle of our conversation about me and my work. I didn't tell him the truth though. I just told him that I write short stories for a living and he thought that it was just for some magazine. "You didn't hesitate to come inside my car and join me for lunch without knowing who I truly am?"

“W-what?” I stuttered, taken aback by his sudden question. “What do you mean?” I was trying to read his face but I can’t find any hint that he was joking.

He clucked his tongue. "Never talk to strangers," he said as he sipped wine from his glass. His eyes regarded me.

Silence fell between us.

I felt my chest tighten as I tried to measure the situation.

Then, as sudden as his question was, he burst into laughter, shattering the awkward moment.

“I was just messing with you,” he teased in between laughs. “You should've seen your face.”

I felt dumbstruck with everything that had just happened in a matter of seconds.

"That's not funny," I said quietly, feeling uneasy.

He stopped laughing and looked at me. He must've realized my mood because he apologized over and over again. But nothing he said could calm me. He didn't know what was going on inside my head at that moment.

Without giving him so much as a glance, I excused myself and headed for the restroom.

I splashed cold water on my face as soon as I got inside. Luckily, it helped calm my nerves. If I had stayed for a few more seconds in our table, I might've collapsed.

I gave myself a few more minutes of steady breathing and thought about what had happened. I remembered how sincere Sungjae looked when he was apologizing to me.

The truth was, what he did was easily forgivable. Somehow, I felt like he thought I was acting childish; getting upset with a simple joke. But I couldn't tell him the real reason.

No one should know.

With everything that had been happening in the past few days, and also when I received that note, my senses have been heightened. I've been edging to pure paranoia. I kept on having nightmares at night. I thought it was long gone but they've recently returned.

There was just so much going on in my mind. The biggest one was about the body found in the pier. My gut told me that there was something off about the whole case. That Damien Dee's death wasn't as simple as it seemed.

I've been reading the Reaper's data over and over again, hoping that I could somehow stumble upon something that would make sense.

I have memorized his modus operandi. I've memorized everything: the people he killed, the drugs he used, the way he lured them to their deaths, and even how he marked his victims.

The Reaper's mark was a type of flower: the Pheasant's Eye. It was a flower with red petals and a very interesting myth.

According to an old Greek myth, the flower sprung from where the Goddess Aphrodite's lover, Adonis, bled to death. The story told how even the Goddess of love became madly in love with a mortal whom her husband, Ares, got jealous of which, eventually, led him to kill the man. It was the flower that bloomed in remembrance of the tragic love.

The flower meant remembrance.

Was that the message the Reaper meant to send when he shoved the petals of the flower down his victims' throats? If so, what does he want people to remember? Him? The victims' crimes?

With one final splash of cold water to my face, I headed back to our table after drying up. I have to apologize to Sungjae. I shouldn't have walked out on him like that.

I was three tables away from him when I was blocked by a man, a waiter, who came running from the other side of the room to my right.

It took me a while to realize what was happening.

The whole place that was filled with elegance and low chatter before I went to the restroom, was now filled with commotion, the sound of plates and silverware crashing to the floor, and a woman wailing.

There was one other sound that seemed to have caused the sudden chaos.

I had to stand on my toes to take a peak as a couple of people were blocking my view.

Then, horror struck me when I realized where the sound came from.

Horrible choking sounds came from a boy, must be around four years old, lying on his mother's lap as she sat on the floor.

His small body convulsed as his tiny hands clawed on his throat. His face turned a sickening shade of purple little by little with every move that he made as he tried hard to breathe.

A waiter ran to where the boy and the mother were. He quickly, yet carefully took the little one from its mother.

The crowd panicked. Even I was trembling at the sight of what was happening. In all the chaos, the waiter held the boy calmly. He worked as if he was sure what to do in a situation as such.

In one swift movement, he positioned the boy in an angle and patted places on the boy's back. I didn't see everything that he did but in a matter of seconds, I heard the little one violently cough and gasp for air.

The color immediately came back to his skin as tears flooded his eyes.

There was a collective sound of relief from the crowd the moment we all saw the boy breathe.

"Hey, are you okay?" I looked to my side and saw Sungjae standing with the crowd as he looked back to me.

"Yeah," I answered. I noticed the people walking back to their tables while they stole glances to the mother and child being escorted by the restaurant's staff to the ambulance waiting outside. The boy must still be checked for damages that might've been caused by whatever was in his throat.

"Did you see what happened?" I asked Sungjae as we both walked back to our table.

"Yeah. That was scary," he said. “That’s the first time I've witnessed something like that.”

Everyone around us went back to their own tables. Whispers and reactions about the incident filled the whole restaurant after the boy and his mother left. The staff resumed working in their own posts; business as usual.

“Imagine if that waiter didn’t know how to do what he did to the kid,” disbelief was in his voice.

I couldn’t fathom the thought of what would’ve happened. I’ve witnessed deaths and I have seen crime scenes on television before when I researched about my novels but I didn’t want to witness one that involved a toddler.

Sungjae continued talking animatedly. “Whatever was in that kid’s mouth was already being pushed down further every second he gasped for air. That thing would get stuck in his throat.”

I didn’t want to think about it but since he kept on talking about it, I couldn’t help but to see the image in my mind and—

Wait a minute.

I didn’t know how fast my mind worked that time but it felt like I entangled a web that had been bothering me for a long time in just a few seconds. It was like a switch turned on inside my brain and lit up that dark corner that I've wanted to see.

That’s it! I thought to myself. I had to get home and reread the files again.

Quickly, I gathered my bag and stood up. “I’m sorry Sungjae, I have to go,” I apologized to him.

“What’s wrong? Where are you going?” he was startled.

I couldn’t tell him, but I have to go. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you,” I reached inside my bag to get my wallet. “I’ll pay for everything, don’t worry,” I placed a couple of bills on the table.

Sungjae held my wrist before I could have a chance to turn away.

He looked at me as if trying to figure me out. He sighed in defeat, “Let me at least take you home.”

I felt bad for doing that to him. He really didn’t deserve the way I treated him. “It’s fine,” I reassured him.

He nodded and let go of my wrist.

I turned my back, ready to head for the door but as I did so, my head hit someone.

"Watch out!" I faintly heard Sungjae try to warn me before I crashed into one of the restaurant's waiters.

The soup that he was holding on a tray spilled on my blue blouse down to my skirt.

"Oh, shit," I gasped. I tried to lean forward, hoping that the liquid won't scald my skin.

"Are you okay?" Sungjae came to my side and asked.

I nodded to him. Of course, I am fine. I was not dying. My dress was just ruined.

"I-I'm really s-sorry, miss," the waiter stuttered as he apologized repeatedly.

I was going to tell him that it was fine when he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and nervously wiped the mess on top on my chest.

I froze in shock upon realizing where his hands were.

Sungjae quickly took action. He grabbed the waiter's wrist. "Hands off," he warned.

That was when I noticed how freaked out the waiter was when he realized what he had just done. I saw his face pale as he looked up at Sungjae. He looked really frail, as if he would break any minute.

"Sungjae, it's fine," I reassured him.

Fortunately, he let go of the waiter's wrist with one final look at him. The poor waiter continued to bow and apologize to me.

"This won't do," Sungjae muttered more to himself before turning to me. "I'll take you home. You can't say no."

He didn't wait for my answer. He quickly pulled me away from the scene.

A guy who I assume was the manager of the restaurant approached the waiter before I exited the place.

I hope he won't get any serious punishment. It was all my fault.

Sungjae made me wait on the sidewalk beside the restaurant while he went to get his car. He insisted that he would take me home because I couldn't commute looking like a total trash. I was going to tell him that driving his expensive car in my neighborhood wasn't a good thing but it looked like there was no reasoning when it came to him. I just hoped that it wouldn't get that much attention.

Luckily, there weren't a lot of people where I waited because it would be embarrassing if they that I was covered in what I assumed was tomato soup.

I was wiping my blouse when a loud banging noise disturbed the quiet street. It came from the alley two steps away from me.

"We shouldn't have left, Hyunsik!" A disembodied voice echoed through the street. "We should've just stayed inside!"

Curiosity took over me as I peeked at the alley and checked who the voice belonged to.

"Do you think they would still keep you after what happened?" This time, it was a different and a much deeper voice than the first one. “You kept on messing up. They’ll kick you out this time,”

From where I stood I saw two men standing outside of a steel door connected to the restaurant's side. That must be what created the noise a while ago.

I squinted my eyes and recognized the people who were arguing.

The one called Hyunsik was the waiter who helped the choking kid. He was talking to a skinny guy wearing a waiter's uniform like him.

I couldn't be wrong. It was the waiter who I bumped into before leaving.

"I’m not stupid. I can handle it. I-I can talk to them," the shorter guy argued. Despite trying to sound tough, the way he stammered showed that he was a nervous train wreck.

"You were all over the place, Ilhoon!" Hyunsik bellowed.

I was rattled by his voice and I can sense that the guy named Ilhoon was too. He paced back and forth, undecided on whether he will put his hands in his pockets, cross his arms on his chest, or wipe his face with his palms.

"Get your shit together," Hyunsik cautioned with a tone lower than before. He was trying to keep himself calm but I could sense that he too was panicking.

I couldn't help but to wonder what they were talking about because it was impossible that the restaurant incident was the reason why they were acting like they just killed somebody.

The writer in me thought that the whole situation was fascinating. It had always been a habit of mine to find story prompts in everything that I see.

Subconsciously, I pictured what their story was and pondered if I should include it in my next novel.

"I-I'm trying," Ilhoon stuttered. I focused on listening to them. Somehow, he decided to wrap his arms around his body as if he was shielding himself from the cold. "B-but I can't!" He continued. "Everytime I close my eyes I can see him. I can see his dead body in my dreams,"

I held my breath.

Did I hear him right?

"It haunts me!" Ilhoon sobbed. "There were times when I close my eyes and I thought that if I open them he will be in front of me and he will kill me the way that he died."

Hyunsik was silent for a moment as he observed how his friend crumbled in front of him.

"He deserved it," he firmly said. “He deserved to die,” his jaw was clenched as if he was suppressing his anger.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a thought screaming at me to get out of there as fast as I could–to forget what I just heard. But I couldn't move. I was frozen in place.

They were both talking about someone's murder. They killed someone and were trying to get away with it. And now, I just became a witness to their confession which meant that I would be in danger once they find out that I heard them.

I wanted to move.

I couldn't.

"Hey, let's go," Sungjae's voice pulled me back and woke up my muscles so that I could move once more.

I turned and saw him inside his car as he called out to me.

I composed myself and faced him, willing myself to forget what I've just witnessed.

It wasn't hard to remove that scene from my mind. I just had to convince myself that I was only overreacting.

That's right. My wild imagination was the one to blame.

It's not like those guys clearly said that they were the ones who killed whoever it was. They didn't state that. For all I know, they might be talking about something entirely different from a murder.

Yeah, right, my subconscious sneered at me.

It's not like there was anything that I could do. Even if I did go to the police, I wouldn’t be giving them much information. It's just my word against theirs.

The officers would only think that I am a lunatic. They already think that way because of the way I always annoy them.

After pacing inside my apartment and biting my nails for hours, I finally convinced myself that it was all nothing.

My head was too preoccupied with the conversation in that alley that I forgot the reason why I came back to my apartment.

Quickly, as if I wasn't just breaking my brain over a supposed murder confession, I took the Reaper's files from the small box in the farthest corner of my closet. With my notebook and ball pen in hand, I tried to create a chart about the whole murder case surrounding the death of Damien Dee.

You don't have any choice. Besides, you’re only just going to take a quick look around the area, I told myself as I quietly headed for the pier where the body was found.

It took me a whole day to come up with the plan and I knew it was crappy but I still have to do it. I wanted to do it.

I wanted to know where they found the body. The reports I have gave a lot of details and pictures but being in the actual place would satisfy my piqued curiosity.

Getting inside wasn't easy even if I did it at night. The whole place had guards set up in every entrance and some surveyed the surroundings from time to time.

You're being stupid.

I know I am but I couldn’t help it. I'd just deal with the consequences after.

After going around the area, I found the weakest point of the place: the wall on the far west of the pier near the woods. I could use the nearest tree with a low hanging branch to get on the other side.

Luckily, I wore my black tights and black hoodie which completed the stealthy look. I could move freely too.

Honestly, I haven't done this before.

I had connections back in Moonlight City. When I needed to get inside a restricted area, I just needed to use them. Sunshine City was still a stranger to me and the only person that I could count on was myself.

Besides, how hard could climbing a tree be?

Once I got closer, realization dawned on me. From a distance, the tree looked short compared to the ones beside it. Up close, it towered over me.

Go home now before it's too late.

I took a deep breath and jumped as high as I could to reach for the nearest branch. The tips of my fingers touched the branch but it was not enough for me to hold it.

I jumped again but this time, I crouched a little more. As my feet left the ground, I stretched my arms as far as I could until I grabbed the branch with both hands.

The rough bark of the tree dug on the skin of my palms as I my body dangled on the branch. My arms hurt as it supported my weight making me hold the branch tighter.

Give up. You can’t climb a tree.

I took a deep breath and pulled myself up with all my strength until both my biceps and forearms are on the branch. Without stopping to rest, I swung my left leg up and straddled the branch until I could pull my whole body up.

I rested my cheek on the branch as I rested for a bit. My heart beat loudly in my chest as I gasped for air. It was as if I’ve just ran a marathon.

I looked up and saw the wall that was directly in front of me. If I manage to get to the end of the branch, I could grasp the ledge and pull myself up again to jump over the wall then down to the pier’s grounds.

I knew that it would be more difficult than what I have just done but I also knew that it was too late to back out.

I had to do it.

After a few minutes and a lot of scratches, I managed to climb to the end of the branch and pull myself up on the ledge.

The moment I sat on top of the wall was when I started to panic.

The structure was one story high but as I was perched on it, it felt much higher than that. I started to get dizzy and my knees began to shake. There was no other way that I could go down. When I looked to my left and to my right, all I see was the wall stretching to the distance on both sides.

It didn’t help that I realized that the ground was covered with hard cement.

I looked up to the night sky and tried to calm myself. It was a clear night and the full moon hung low in the sky, lighting up the whole place. Only a few, thin clouds could be seen with it. The air was chilly. It's a good thing that my hoodie kept me warm.

I calculated the height of the fall in my mind as well as what will happen to me with just one wrong move.

I took another deep breath and conditioned my mind to think positively. At least now, when I write a scene about jumping down from a wall I could describe it vividly.

There was no turning back.

Using my arms, I shielded my skull. I didn't waste another heartbeat; I jumped from the wall and prayed that I land in a good position.

I knew somewhere in the middle of the air, my heart stopped and I almost blacked out. It was like all the air was sucked out from my lungs and I was nothing but a bag of meat that's about to crash to the ground.

It all happened too fast and it's as if my mind went on auto-pilot mode. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I knew I had to leap once more to roll. It was the perfect plan and it should’ve worked properly if not for the slight problem I encountered.

I felt my right ankle pop upon landing at an odd angle. I yelped but I bit my lip to stop myself from making any more noise. Instead of rolling like what I planned, I found myself lying on my side as I clutched my legs close to me as if trying to stop it from making any move that might further the damage.

It took me a while to recover from the pain. I willed myself to stand up and walk, flinching every time my right ankle supported a little of my weight.

I reached inside my jacket's pocket to retrieve the map of the pier that I printed.

The body of Damien Dee was found in the docks early morning by one of the workers.

I was on the west side of the pier and the docks was somewhere on the far northwest side of the place. If I was not mistaken, I was near the scene of the crime.

I limped to the direction of the docks while not letting my guard down. Once or twice I had to hide in the shadows because a surveying guard would pass by.

If I were them, security would be tighter in the area knowing that corpse was found inside. But they were all lax that they didn't even check every corner. Instead, they just literally walked by.

No wonder the killer got past them.

It took me longer to get to the place surrounded by the police yellow tape. If I was only a little better and not limping, I would've gotten there sooner.

Fortunately, the police who guarded the area that was standing by the entrance, was about to walk away for surveying duties.

I waited for him to turn his back and walk quite a distance away before I gingerly ducked under the yellow tape and into the area.

The wind was colder and stronger as I was in the place near the water.

Wooden crates that were stacked on top of each other surrounded the place. There was a wide opening in the middle where I supposed they drive their forklifts through.

As I got closer to the edge of the water, I could hear the gentle lapping of the waves against the concrete pillars that supported the place where I stood. The light from the nearest post already ended a couple of feet back and I found myself completely engulfed in the darkness.

The moon that I saw before now hid behind a thick cloud.

The moment I reached the end of the concrete floor, I leaned forward to check the dark water.

The body was found stuck in between the pillars under my feet. If my memory serves me right, I was on the exact spot where the corpse was seen.

There was something intriguing and terrifying knowing that, just a few days back, the mutilated and rotting corpse of a once wealthy man floated right under my feet.

The thrilled scared me and I loved it.

I was like a little kid who was given a chance to go around a magical place.

I felt excited.

My theory was getting deeper. If I was right, the case of Damien Dee would be the biggest controversy of the year.

"You..." I stiffened upon hearing a man's voice.

Was I caught?

Carefully, I turned around to face the man. My mind was quick at work as I tried to make alibis that could hopefully get me out of the situation. None of them could've prepared me for what I saw.

My eyes adjusted to the dark as it tried to see who the voice belonged to. Just then, the clouds moved and the light from the moon illuminated the place once more.

“You shouldn’t be here,”

His voice was a whisper yet I sensed how lethal it was—like a cold blade that ran from my nape down to the small of my back. Every inch of my skin shivered with his words.

Cold sweat dotted my forehead as I stood frozen in place. Half of my soul wanted to run as far away from him as possible but the other half stopped me.

“Y-You—,” I tried to make the words come out of my mouth but I couldn’t. It was like there’s this huge lump in my throat that hindered my breathing.

My mind couldn’t process what was happening.

It’s him. I knew it but I still couldn’t believe it.

Both of us were face to face in the dark, illuminated only by a glimpse of the silver moon behind the dark clouds. The little light helped make out the image I saw.

He stood in front of me, his hands at his sides. He held a shiny blade in his left palm tightly. He was clad in all black and the lower half of his face was covered up to below his eyes with what I could only assume was the same material as his clothes. The only color that stood out was his hair. Like the blade that he was holding, his silver hair that caught the moonlight made him look dangerous yet beautiful.

I couldn’t be mistaken, I knew who he was.

“Y-you are…” I forced the words out. “Are you the Reaper?” But it didn’t sound like a question.

I held my breath. Both of us stood in silence for what seemed like forever. I waited for him to say something.

“What if I am?”

Deep inside, I knew that I was right but I couldn't answer him.

For many months, I've been chasing him. I've done dozens of research about him and I've dreamt about the day that I would finally see him. I had so many questions in my mind that I wanted to ask him. But in that moment. my brain stopped functioning.

I stood on my place, my feet planted firmly on the ground.

The Reaper was the first to move.

He slowly circled me as if I was his prey. His eyes were fixated on me, watching my reaction every time his heels touched the ground.

My eyes darted to the blade he was holding. It glistened as if telling me that with just one move, its silver body could be covered in my crimson blood.

He didn't speak another word as he stood in front of me, as if waiting for me to utter the next words.

I swallowed, feeling that my throat was dry.

"I-I've been wanting to meet you," I stuttered. Those were the first words that came to my mind. "I... uhm... I don't think that you are a bad person like what the others say,"

He tilted his head to the side. I can't see his eyes under the shadow of his silver hair but I knew that he was looking at me.

He stayed like that for a few moments. Then he shook his head and turned his back to me. He started to walk away from me.

Was that it? Was he going to leave just like that?

"Wait!" I called to him. I wanted to go after him but I couldn’t. Aside from the fact that my ankle was once again hurting from standing for a long time, I still feared him. Despite my admiration for the Reaper, seeing him in front of me sent shivers down my spine.

I was somewhere in between awe and fear.

He stopped in his tracks but he didn't look back.

This was my chance.

"I have just one question," I stated. I waited for him to look my way but he didn't. "Did you kill Damien Dee?"

I held my breath as I waited for his answer. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Instead of answering my question, the Reaper held one hand up and gave me one wave as goodbye before walking straight to the shadows.

I stood there looking in the darkness where he disappeared. I didn't get an answer to my question and that would haunt me for a long time.

I just met the Reaper but I didn't know what I felt.

It was the cold wind that woke my senses up and told me that I had to get out of the place before I get caught.

Limping, I headed for the entrance.

"Who's there?!" Panic struck me when I heard the voice of another man.

Not far from where I stood, the police guarding the place was running towards me.

I was torn between running away and staying to give my alibi when a gloved hand held mine and pulled me to run towards the shadows.

It pained to run on a twisted ankle but my instincts told me that I couldn’t afford to stop and get caught.

Even if I was in the dark, I knew that it was the Reaper who was running in front of me while holding my hand.

We stopped and hid behind a large container van.

I caught my breath and assessed the situation of my ankle. I have forced it to work despite of the sprain that I got. I knew that it would bite me in the ass in the near future.

But the more pressing matter right now was that I almost got caught by the police.

Never in my life had I been on the wrong side of the law. Well, that’s if you don't count the times I have trespassed in crime scenes with the help of my friends and paid someone to get me confidential file. My point was, I've never been chased by cops in my whole life.

That was like the highest level of breaking the law. It's like the big red sign that tells you that you've been a really, really bad person.

What did I get myself into?

And there was this huge thing about the guy who sat beside me. The Reaper was beside me and we were both touching shoulders as we hid in this little space.

Footsteps echoed as it came closer to us.

I held my breath and I knew that the Reaper did too.

The cop's footsteps were slow, as if he was waiting for us to come out.

There was a beeping sound. "I need a backup here. I think we have an intruder," the cop radioed.

"Copy that," the other person responded through a static sound.

More are coming?!

I couldn’t believe this.

"Shit," the Reaper hissed.

"We have to get out of here," that was stupid thing for me to say. Of course, he was thinking about getting out too. I hoped that he would take me with him. I don't want to get caught and thrown into jail.

The Reaper didn't say anything more. It appeared to me that he was devising a plan. He looked around and sometimes took a peek where we heard the cop was.

I didn't hear anymore footsteps. He was either already far from us, or was just on the other side of the container van, waiting for us to go out.

The anxiety was killing me.

As sudden as earlier, the Reaper gripped my hand and motioned for me to follow him.

It was hard to keep up with his every move with my injury but I tried my best to not weigh him down.

We reached another container van and hid behind it.

With his hand, he pointed to the stacks of metal crates a couple of meters away from us. I knew even without him talking that we had to head that way.

Between us and the metal crates, there was a couple of meters of open area which was illuminated by a light post.

The risk of us being seen and getting caught was very high but we had to move fast.

The Reaper suddenly faced me.

We were only a few inches away from each other and I thought that I could see a glimpse of his eyes under his silver hair.

A thought crossed my mind for a millisecond, Those eyes look familiar.

He reached up to me and I flinched. My heart beat loudly inside my chest. In a fraction of a second, my mind pictured a thousand scenes but all of them were not because of fear. No, it was far more than that.

He reached up to both sides of my head and pulled my hood lower to cover my eyes.

He then turned his back to me, held my hand again, and motioned for me to run as fast as I could towards the crates.

I took a deep breath and followed his lead.

It was only when we were almost halfway through the open space that the pain in my ankle worsened. I had to crouch down because of the pain.

We both stopped.

"Police! Stay where you are or I'll shoot!" We heard someone shout.

I looked up and saw the silhouette of a man that I assumed was also a cop but was different from the first one. He was far from us but his voice echoed.

Even if I saw only his shadow, I knew that he was pointing a gun at us. One wrong move and he could shoot us or worse, kill us.

"You can't be caught," I told the Reaper, urging him to go.

He was the most wanted person in Sunshine City. If he gets caught, he'd be in deeper trouble. I, on the other hand...

I can handle myself.

He let go of my hand, but instead of running away, he held my waist and swung me up and over his shoulder.

"What are you–" I didn't get to finish. My world was upside down and I was facing his back.

I couldn't see anything but I felt him start to run once again.

Shots fired in all directions, almost deafening me. I heard him grunt in pain and I thought that one bullet might've found its way to him but I don't know where he was hit.

The last thing I remembered was a blow to the back of my head. Then, everything else was a blur until I lost consciousness.

"We can't retrieve it. Everything's destroyed," the landlord remarked as he shook his head.

He was sitting inside his office and the destroyed surveillance cameras were on his desk.

Everyone panicked when they heard that someone broke the CCTV cameras installed around the apartment building. The owner suspected that it was a bunch of kids who pretended that they were a gang of members. Besides, it wasn't’ the first time that something like this happened in our neighborhood.

I went to the landlord’s office and pretended that I was concerned about the accident that happened in the apartment building when in fact, I just wanted to know if he caught the Reaper in the surveillance cameras.

This morning I woke up inside my apartment. I was in tucked safely in my bed. My ankle was attended to and dressed and there was a bandage on the back of my head.

I couldn't remember anything after I lost consciousness last night but I knew that it was the Reaper who took me back to my place.

He was too careful that he even destroyed the cameras that lead to where my apartment was.

He didn't leave any trace of him.

If not for the painful remembrance that my ankle and my head got, I would've thought that he was only a dream.

I visited a doctor to have the bump on my head checked. I thought that it would have some serious complication but I was told that it was just a simple bump and wound.

Strangely, I was complimented because as per the nurse, I dressed my wound and my sprain well. She even asked if I was a nurse. I just told her that a friend did it for me. Of course, I couldn’t tell her who it really was.

Even if I was not confined, I was told to take a rest because my sprain was badly abused and it became worse than how sprains were supposed to be.

So, I spent my days inside my apartment, in bed.

I tried to write the draft for my novel about the Reaper but my mind kept on being bothered whenever I remembered what happened that night.

Before, he was only a name that I knew. The Reaper was just a figure that everyone talked about. Even then, he already had so much effect on me. Seeing him real and in the flesh was both fascinating and scary. It was like your childhood superhero coming to life. And there was the fact that he didn't leave me there like what I told him. It made me want to know the person behind the Reaper not only for the sake of my research but also because I want to understand why he decided to be a vigilante.

There were so many things going on in my mind that I forgot that I was actually looking for my neighbor because I wanted to share what I have gathered with her.

She was the only friend that I have in Sunshine City and I knew that she would love to have the details that I have except, of course, about that bit where I actually came face to face with the Reaper.

I am not even sure if I would tell her about it.

Saturday afternoon, I woke up from a long nap because of a knock on my door.

I didn't expect that I would find my neighbor there, good thing that she dropped by.

I was so excited to tell her about my findings but I didn't want to overwhelm her so I just let her speak first as we sat down in my living room. I didn't know that I was the one who's going to be shocked by her revelations.

Apparently, she investigated about the Damien Dee case behind her boyfriend's back.

I was honestly impressed because she knew how to find ways that didn't require her to use her savings unlike someone I know.

She told me about how she interviewed Dee's ex-secretary, someone named Seo Eunkwang. Contrary to what everyone believed, a secretary is the best person to ask about their own bosses. They’re like flies on the wall. They witness things that their boss does that other people don't know. They know their boss like the back of their hands.

As expected, Damien Dee was really a scum of Sunshine City. Aside from harassing and terrorizing people who owed him, the guy was also involved in an alleged rape case.

The secretary didn't witness the rape but he knew what happened behind closed doors.

Damien Dee was a clear target for the Reaper. But still...

“There’s something about him that bothers me though,” she uttered, referring to Eunkwang.

The sun was almost fully set but it was getting dark so I had to turn on the lights.

We sat on opposite sides of my couch with a mug of coffee in our hands like we always do when we hung out.

"What do you mean?" I placed my mug on the coffee table, curious as to what she would answer. She's a smart person. If she noticed something, then I knew that it wasn't just a simple thing.

She was silent for a few seconds, she looked down at nothing in particular as if trying to remember the conversation he had with Eunkwang, Dee's secretary.

"When I first met him," she started, "he struck me as someone who's timid and who'd rather stay quiet and not get involved in any kind of conflict. I mean, I had a hard time getting him to talk to me about his previous boss. But, something about him changed when we he said that Damien deserved what he got."

Those words again. I was suddenly reminded of what I overheard in the alley of a restaurant.

I pushed it out of my mind.

"He was okay at the start of our conversation," she continued. "He was a bit shaky like he was nervous. But when as he said those words, his voice was cold. It's as if he wasn't telling me those words, it's as if he was convincing himself. It's like I was talking to a different person. I was honestly scared,"

I pictured everything that she just told me in my mind. A thought came to me, something that had been lingering in my mind but had been fueled by my friend's experience.

"This might sound weird," I started. "I just got a crazy theory while I was reading the Reaper's files the past week–"

"What files?"

Oh, damn! I was going to show her those.

"Wait here, I'll go and get it." I stood up and limped to my room.

"I forgot to ask," she called to me before I stepped inside my room. I stopped and looked back. "What happened to you?" She asked, gesturing to my ankle and the bandage on the back of my head.

I trespassed inside the scene of the crime, met the Reaper, and I broke myself.

I shrugged. "I fell of the stairs," just that and I turned back to head inside my room.

A couple of minutes passed and once she got over the shock of seeing the confidential files spread on my coffee table, I told her about my theory.

I told her about the possibility that the killer might not be the Reaper. That it was possible that it was a copycat killer who staged the crime like it was one of his works.

What gave me that idea was the Pheasant's Eye's petals.

I've read in the autopsy reports of his previous victims that the petals were found down the throat, past the epiglottis.

There were notes from the coroner that said that the petals might have been shoved down the victims’ throats while they were still alive. As their throats were slit and they struggled for breath, the petals were inhaled down.

But that wasn't the case with Dee's death. Aside from the blow at the back of his head, which didn't occur in the Reaper's other victims, the petals were found just past the tongue. This could mean that he was already dead when the petals where shoved inside his mouth.

She didn't react at first when I told her about this and I thought that maybe she thought I was just being biased. Even I, myself, thought my mind was just clouded.

But instead of dismissing my thought, she considered my theory. More than that, she told me about her little adventure down the morgue.

She saw Damien Dee's corpse!

I would kill to have that opportunity. Figuratively.

"There were cuts that were sloppy," she remarked as if we are just talking about an ordinary afternoon topic and not the body of a victim. "At first glance, you would think that it was the same as the ones found on the other victims: precise and clean cuts. But Dee's cuts on his Achilles' Heels and armpits, as well as the one on his throat were so poorly done. It’s either the killer was in a hurry or he was nervous,"

"But why didn't the police notice this?" I wondered. "I don't see them changing their statement that there is a possibility that it wasn’t the Reaper. Everyone still thinks that it was him,"

I sounded like I was defending an innocent man, I just realized.

"Maybe they did notice it," she noted. "Maybe they’re still looking for solid evidence to prove that there is a copycat killer before releasing a public statement,"

I didn't say anything. She's right.

What she said solidified the thought in my mind. Someone else killed Damien Dee and there was a possibility that it could be one of the people he victimized.

But why was the Reaper in the scene of the crime that night? Was he also wondering who used his name to kill someone? Was he against the death of that scum?

We spent hours exchanging ideas and planning.

We both decided that we would conduct our own individual investigation. Our curiosity wouldn't let us sleep. Both of us needed to know the truth.

As the night grew, I said good night to my friend.

After closing the door behind me, I noticed that the window blinds were still open. I went to it and looked out at the bright moon in the sky.

It wasn't as bright and as full as that night but it still reminded me of him.

I only caught a glimpse of his eyes for a fraction of a second but the image was already etched in my mind.

It's like I could still feel him looking at me.

Before I closed the blinds, my eyes wandered down the street directly in front of my apartment building.

I thought it was just my imagination. Maybe it was.

If my eyes were a little better, maybe I could've seen him.

Maybe I wasn't just imagining a figure in a black hood hiding in the shadows as he looked up to my window. His silver hair stood out as it caught the moon's light.

#BTOB Imagines #BTOB #kpop scenarios #BTOB scenarios #kpop imagines #eunkwang #minhyuk #changsub #hyunsik #peniel #ilhoon #sungjae #vindictive #vindictive: when an angel falls

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currently-lurking-brb · 7 years

Text

Boy, do I have a story for you

This is a very petty story and I'm not sorry. So, I am writing this while I have a movie on the tv in the background, I am checking my phone every so often when I receive a message, and I am talking to my dog at a sensible volume whenever I wish to do so. Why am I able to do all this, while watching a film, you ask? Well, I can do this because I am watching it in the comfort of my own home. You see, while at home, you can do whatever you please while watching films, as you do not need to worry about disturbing others. If you wish to watch a film with no disturbance, lights off and phone away, you can do so, or if you wish to multitask like I am doing now, you are also able to do that - because it is your home, your viewing experience, and you can do whatever you like. A cinema, however, is somewhat different. It is a shared viewing experience, and that can sometimes be fun. There are stories of people cheering together in the theatre when the Star Wars theme blared through the speakers during the premieres of The Force Awakens, which I imagine was a wonderful shared experience. Because a cinema trip is a shared experience, it is incredibly important to show a little decorum, and consideration for your fellow cinema-goer. As you can likely tell, I am about to tell you a very frustrating, but somewhat satisfying story. So, today my family and I took a trip to the cinema to see the positively-reviewed Dunkirk. As the trailers started, I turned my phone onto airplane mode, so it wouldn't buzz during the film. Because I'm nice like that. As the trailers were starting, I happened to notice a group of lads come in. It was hard not to laugh, as it was genuinely impossible to tell them apart. All three had bleached blond hair, shaved at the sides and plastered like a solid brick towards the backs of their heads. For the following piece I shall call them Lad 1, Lad 2, and Lad 3, as there was very little else distinguishing them, apart from approximate age. Lads 1 and 2 are clearly teenagers, can't be much more than 16, can't be less than 14, while Lad 3 seems older, possible late 20s/30s. Maybe he's a dad or an uncle, either way, he dresses like he wished he was the same age as Lads 1 and 2. However, I did try not to laugh, because even though I thought they looked like idiots, there are a lot of kind, genuine people in the world who have silly haircuts, and it would be wrong to judge someone by their fashion choices. It was a little harder to not judge when the moment his arse landed in the expensive VIP seat, Lad 2 (seated in the middle, in the row directly in front of me so I could see them very clearly) opened FaceTime to call a mate. You're in the cinema?? Why are you FaceTiming someone? Random, but I push that thought away because it is still the trailers, and not even the trailers based on the movie you're about to watch, so there was a good twenty minutes of adverts before the film was actually due to start. Then, Lad 2 puts his phone away and they all sit very quietly in their seats, watching the adverts just like everyone else. I stop noticing them because I am also watching the adverts. That is what I'm here for. For a little reminder, cinemas are designed so you have very little peripheral vision. You cannot see anything of the row behind you, because of how high the chairs are and the positioning of the rows. However, you can see a lot of whatever is happening in the rows in front, which is why kids used to go to the back row for a quickie in the olden days. If you wanted to see something going on behind you, you would need to twist and crane your neck right back. Any sort of phone/bright electronic-based activity is clearly visible to someone in the row behind you - I thought most people knew this, but apparently not, so there it is, explained. The adverts go wholly undisturbed, until the film actually starts. Lad 2 pulls out his phone, and films a little bit of the screen announcing that we would be watching Dunkirk that afternoon. He then proceeds to add a caption: 'at the pics with @followmyfriend and @followmyotherfriend.' I can see this clearly because he is directly in front of me and his screen is on full brightness. It's annoying. The opening credits are starting - and those who have seen the film know it starts stating some facts and statistics on the true event, which is important to read - and he is still on his phone, attempting to tell all his insta-fans that he's at the cinema, when he had twenty minutes of not-film time to do so. It's really bright, he's taking twelve years to post it and is starting to disturb the whole full row behind him. My mum leans forward and says: "Excuse me? Hi, could you turn your phone off please? It's really bright and right in our eyes." Fair, yes? There's a whole advert asking you to refrain from using your phone during the film, because it's disturbing. That advert happened about three minutes before this event occurred. Lad 2 turns around and snaps: "In ten minutes." ???? Ten minutes is the main exposition of the film. You'll miss a shitload of plot and I'll have to try and watch it while your screen is flickering away?? Nah. My mother retorts, "No, now please." (Teacher voice: activate). The film is starting, the actors are looking dramatically into the middle distance. Instead of watching the film, Lad 1 starts to join to defend Lad 2, whose ego is clearly bruised after being called out by an adult, and starts huffing and puffing generalised 'yeah what are you gonna do hahahaha,' and they are quickly accompanied by Lad 3 telling my mother not to start on them, as he puffs up to look hard as nails. So my dad just says "Don't start," because ya know he's gonna defend his wife, and it's all getting very annoying. My mum correctly points out that they can be removed from the theatre for disturbing other cinema-goers, and they laugh at this. I tell Lad 2 he can tell his insta-fans about the film later, let's just watch it. Tbh I'm probably not the nicest person for that but a literal teenage boy was trying to give lip to a couple of strangers for being asked to be more considerate, and the most fun way to jab at someone after that is to be patronising as shit. I'm from the posher end of Oxfordshire, I can be patronising. The film continues and the Lad collective settles down, and I think: yay! Time to enjoy the film. Wrong! Ten minutes later Lad 1 whips his own phone out, to send a text. I honestly don't understand how it could be impossible to go to a movie theatre and leave your phone undisturbed for a relatively short period of time. Seriously - ten minutes??? I've had farts last longer. Anyway, after the text, which he angled away so my mum couldn't see - but I could - he proceeds to stare at my mother. Lad 2 joins staring at my mother. They're smirking and staring, as if waiting for something to happen. I am directly behind them and tell them not to stare. I'll smugly admit they jump a bit, as they didn't realise I was looking at them, and I may have spat it a little meanly, but fuck it, they were rude and childish, and waiting to be called out on. It's weird to think you'd need to tell someone not to smirk and stare at people, were they never taught it was rude as hell? They proceed to whine: "We just want to watch the movie!" "Then turn around and watch it." Imagine being thick enough to prod and poke to try and start a little drama, and then get upset when someone calls you out on it? Bless. The film goes on, and Lad 3 huffs and puffs every now and then, at first I assumed he was attempting to seem tough and strong in front of the other Lads, but I was corrected later. He was vaping away. In a cinema. Charming. I continue to watch the film, and see little blond plastered heads bobbing away, chatting to each other, leaning close to whisper for a solid twenty minutes. You just wanted to watch the movie? With audio commentary maybe?? By the time we're hitting about the 40 minute mark of the film, I've noticed the solid gel-brick head of Lad 2 twisting around as far as his scrawny neck will take him to stare at me. I am not editing the truth to make myself the hero of a story, I was literally sitting, trying to watch Mark Rylance's beautiful acting. I couldn't have been doing anything to bother the row in front, because of the peripheral vision I mentioned earlier. Regardless, Lad 2 turns around to watch me no less than four times. Why? Are you struck by my ethereal beauty? Fat chance. Can you hear me breathing and is it somehow annoying? Nope. Are you a little shit? Yep. This continues and it's beyond creepy. Like, let it go, little boy. We've hit 45 minutes, it's starting to get really good. This film is intense as hell and I'd highly recommend it. Out of nowhere, I get the eeriest feeling. I already know what it's going to be. I look down and there they are; Tweedle-Fucking-Dee and Tweedle-Fucking-Dumb. They have both craned their necks around as far as they can to look up directly at me. I feel like an acorn that's been spotted by two competing wannabe-alpha squirrels. Squirrels don't even have alphas, so that says a lot, really. By the way - this is REALLY FUCKING CREEPY. What business do you have staring at a random girl??? Is this how you think you get them to like you? It's not. It's predatory and beyond gross. You literally disgust and repel me. I look down at them, they look up at me. Lad 2 smiles, as if he's somehow accomplished something. Then again, he's blessed with my attention, so he should feel lucky (sarcasm). I lean forward, I smile, and very sweetly say "I'm sorry, I thought you said you wanted to watch the film?" Lad 1 sits back and huffs, while Lad 2 has a brain fart. I don't think he managed to comprehend what was going on. He started wildly gesticulating, furiously whispering random babbled words that didn't really made sense. Something along the lines of: "Oh my god!!!! Why are you would you stop this is so I can't believe-" Poor kid can't even pull together a single sentence. No wonder staring was the only weapon in his arsenal. Gormless shit. Again, I find myself wondering: Why would you attempt to start a drama or pick a fight, and then act so surprised and offended when you are called out on it? I don't know, maybe they haven't been taught about cause and effect in school yet. Anyway, while Lad 2 is having his tantrum, Lad 3 gets all guffaw-y, and my dad just gets out and leaves. Lad 3 stands up, and follows shortly after. He is puffed up like an overweight pigeon that's holding in as much vape-shit as possible to attempt to seem big. The next part I wasn't privy to, but my dad filled me in after the film. According to dad, Lad 3 walks straight up to the manager and goes off on one. He claims my dad is picking on 14 year old boys, that he's disturbing him, that he wants his money back, swearing and raising his voice, blah blah blah. The manager stays quiet, as does my father. At the end of Lad 3's tirade, the manager appears confused. She says: "I thought you said they were 15?" OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Honestly I lost my shit when my dad told me that. Apparently Lad 3 shat himself, and the manager followed procedure. From my viewpoint, Lads 1 and 2 left their seats and never returned. The rest of the film passed by in a breeze of clever cinematography and wonderful acting. On coming out of the cinema, my dad went over to the manager who had taken over from the previous manager, and thanked her for how they dealt with it. The lovely manager then said she was sorry for the disturbance, and offered us free cinema tickets to use. Brilliant. Some may read this and think: 'Hannah this is so mean?' But you know what? If a couple of teenage boys are going to try and act all tough, high and mighty, and think they're really clever, they deserve to face consequences. They thought they were so big, so hard, and we very pettily ruined their Sunday afternoon. My favourite little kick to the teeth for this story is: they facetimed a mate to announce they were watching the film, they texted to announce they were watching the film, they posted on their instagram to announce they were watching the film, and they even forked out more money for the expensive, fancy VIP chairs to sit in to watch the film, and they didn't get to watch the film. This was because they were removed for behaviour that goes against policy - which is clearly stated right before the film starts. Got no one to blame but themselves. I wonder how this afternoon will be twisted, maybe they'll go home to mum and cry that a mean lady was sarcastic to them, and they were wrongly pulled out of a film because a mean old man made up terrible lies about her darling children. Ha. My question is - why? Why do teenage boys like to prove themselves? Why must they show everyone how big their dick is? Why do they feel the need to tell everyone how tough they are - that they could take on the world if they wanted to? I'll tell you why, because they're victims to toxic masculinity. What's that, you say? It's a set of societal conventions that show men are only tough, strong, with washboard abs. They never cry, because emotions are weak and they must punch their way through their sadness. It's the alpha-beta complex that so many men and boys fall for as they learn what a 'real man' is through the media. That's right, boys, not only are you pricks, you're daft enough to fall for mainstream media tricks. I feel sorry for you pricks. Until you carve that chip out of your shoulder, you'll forever live a half life, restricted and you may never feel truly happy and free. You poor, poor things. This is my message to all lads everywhere, or boys/men with the aspirations to be 'one of the lads.' You don't need to be rude and inappropriate to prove how cool you are. You may think you're hard as nails and beyond cool, but you'll likely end up embarrassing yourselves, or being kicked out of a cinema. Trust me, no one thinks that you being a twat is cool. Leave picking fights to the schoolyard, not the real world. Ironically, this happened during the showing of a film that actually defies a lot of tropes that toxic masculinity requires. There are no big, manly heroes, and they never refuse to show their emotions. Dunkirk is a new kind of war film, that acknowledges that you don't need to be the hero to be a compelling character in a story, you don't need to take unnecessary risks to show that you're a real man, and it's okay to be afraid, it's okay to be upset, because to feel is to be human. With the likes of Batman V Superman, Wonder Woman, and Spider-Man: Homecoming, Hollywood cinema is slowly turning around to remove the traits of toxic masculinity from their stories. Of course, this isn't an excuse to the Lad collective, they're still awful. Maybe as films show more realistic expectations for men - as they are currently doing for women - the next generations to come will be kinder, and less likely to huff and puff to try and show the world what big boys they are. I'm petty. I'm not sorry.

#petty revenge #Dunkirk #rude people #lads #creepy boys #teenage boys #revenge #pettiness #stories #this really happened in my life #cinema #films #phones

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banditwrites-blog1 · 7 years

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Sunset: Chapter Five

It’s a tiny little apartment. That’s the first thing Jessica thinks as she enters behind her new…patron is perhaps the best word for the little blonde woman who found her walking down the street and saved her from the catcalls of the drunken men. Her dark blue eyes sweep over the entryway – the little wooden table covered with dripping plants, bright green despite the chilly exterior, a collection of shoes kept neatly in pairs just beneath them. Off to her left is a doorway without a door, and within she can see the darkened shape of what looks to be a sink and a counter and something large enough to be a fridge – kitchen, she tells herself. Down the hallway, she can see the shape of a couch – one that welcomes her.

The aforementioned little blonde woman shuts the door behind them, sheds her coat, and hangs it on a hook behind the door. She gives Jessica the kind of look that makes it seem like she expects the redhead to follow suit, but Jessica ignores it, stepping further down the entryway. Jessica has no intention of leaving her father’s coat back there, even if it is safe.

Just in case.

Jessica – Samantha, she reminds herself, as that was the name the other woman called her first, and it is the name she’d decided to stick to while she is here. This isn’t quite an impulsive decision, as the name feels much to her liking, but Oliver had always been her planned surname after her escape. She likes the feel of it between her lips, the way it tastes – Oliver, Oliver, Oliver – or maybe it is simply something she took from her best friend and the play produced when everything with Ian first began. This gives her a way to reclaim the word, to keep in mind the musicals and the theater that had been her only form of escape.

“So, doc,” she says, turning, “where do you want me?”

It is only half an innocent question. The redhead keeps her backpack slung over one shoulder, and when no answer comes, she turns even more, watching as the blonde locks the door behind her with a small click. There is another moment of pause as the woman glances at the second lock, one with a chain, and chooses not to lock it for reasons Jessica cannot understand.

“My name is Diane Daniels, as you read on my card,” the woman says, her words measured and even. She turns back to the taller girl with a nod. “I would prefer it if you use that instead of—“ Her voice drops off with a wave of one shaking hand.

“You want me to use your full name or should I be saying Dr. Daniels?”

She is rude. She is so rude. And cheeky. The doctorate on the card had not passed her notice when she’d seen it, but somehow that seems almost too formal for the current situation.

“Diane will be fine.”

Diane. Jess tastes the word on her tongue before shaking her head. She doesn’t like it. The sound looks like apricots and cream and fancy frou-frou stuff that she’d only had once, with her father, on one of their adventures when she was younger. Of course, it fits the small woman who’d stepped in on her behalf, who’d forced her home with her, who even without her coat appears just as well-crafted in appearance as she had before, but it doesn’t quite fit the owner of this tiny little hole-in-the-wall apartment with the tiny living room, the even tinier kitchen, and…there’s got to be a bedroom somewhere, she hopes.

“You never told me your name.”

“Samantha, like you said. Samantha Oliver.”

There is a pause, and Jessica can see the plain disbelief etched across the older woman’s face but is shocked when she doesn’t press the issue. The name is obviously fake, but at least she seems to respect the need for the lie.

Instead, Diane chooses to pass her by (and now Jessica can smell the slightest scent of vanilla and lavender in her wake), leading her into the living room. The light flickers as she gestures to what Jessica can now fully see is a flabby old couch, not quite as welcoming as she’d imagined it. “This will be your bed, Samantha, if you will have it. The kitchen is there,” a nod of her head toward the room Jessica has already noticed, “and the bathroom door is on your right.”

“And your bedroom?”

“The door to your left.” Just across from the couch, framed on either side by bookshelves. It is now that Jessica notices there is no television, and although this is appalling to her, she says nothing. There is another pause as Diane presses her lips together. “I would prefer it if you did not enter there.”

Well, everyone needs a private spot. Jessica – Samantha, she reminds herself, as it would be better to think of herself under that name so as not to be distracted by her own true name, so as not to give it away – gives a little shrug and drops her mother’s guitar next to the couch, placing her backpack against it. “Sure. Whatever.” She sits on the couch, and it squeaks beneath her weight as she sinks into it. Then she looks up. “I’ll probably just be off tomorrow if you don’t—“

“You will be staying here until you have something better for you than another Greyhound bus or subway or…or park bench.” Diane’s voice grows tight, her hands clasping together with knuckles tinging paler. She leans against the edge of her wooden table, head lowered, and to Jess, who is almost a full foot taller than she is, she seems to be gathering strength. It is only then that she notes how she, herself, gave this Dr. Diane Daniels the high ground by sitting down, how the other woman has again brought them closer to equals by leaning, by shortening herself to meet Sam.

Samantha. Sam. I can be these people.

“Had you planned on a job, Samantha?”

“Sam.” Already she is shortening it. Jess purses her lips together and turns her head away to look out what looked like the single window in the entire apartment, framed on either side by hanging plants and with even more pots sitting just beneath it. She focuses on the single flake of snow left on the windowsill – it may be the tip end of spring, but this is farther north than her last home and much colder – the snow is still left, if she knew where to look (and sometimes it seems like she always does). “I was thinking about playing my guitar down in the train station during the day.”

It is not to her benefit that the blonde does not immediately perk up. Instead, Jessica finds herself bothered that she is being so honest with her. She crosses her arms just under her chest, frowns a bit as she waits for a response. When none comes, she asks, “You aren’t planning to keep me from it, are you? I’d make money. I’m good.”

“You were not planning on having a real job?”

It is the way the woman speaks that strikes Samantha then – the avoidance of contractions as clear as a character choice she might have made in her theater classes. Every act is a character choice to her now, whether it is intentional (this is the character I want to be) or not (this is simply who I am). She finds herself wondering if this one was intentional on her part or not.

This time she chooses not to answer.

“Were you going to apply for jobs?”

Of course she would have, but she will not say that.

“Are you afraid they will not accept you?”

This is really none of Diane’s business.

The pause stretches on even longer until, finally, the other woman asks, “How old are you?”

“I’ll be eighteen in July,” Samantha answers, her voice soft. She rubs one of her arms with one hand – a tic she picked up from her long dead mother, although she will never know that – and glances up, blue eyes lighting up in an attempt to be something fierce. Pretending is easy for her – make character choices, act the part, become Samantha Oliver and never have to be Jessica Irving again.

Not because you did not love being Jessica Irving. Not because you do not want to be an Irving. But because there are things you never want to remember and never want to live out.

“Are you a senior, then?”

Not were you a senior, and this, to Samantha, is a most precious and wonderful thing. This woman appears to still have some hope for her. Or, on the other hand, she can still be thinking of calling the police and sending her back, even if she promised otherwise. Sam understands that people lie when it is easiest for them, when to tell the truth will only make things worse. She still hopes that it will be otherwise here, that Diane is telling the truth, although she can’t say why she trusts her. (It is the doubletalk, she thinks to herself again. She knows how to do it.)

“I would be, come August.” She pauses, taps one finger on her arm, like Andrea used to do right after Angel was born, when Jessica was attempting to hold her, when she was most afraid. “How old are you?”

It is a childish question, she knows it is, but acting innocent and childish can often cause people to like her, to want to care for her, to be protective of her. Act innocent and win hearts. That is how the world works, after all. That is why so many people are so inclined to donate for the adorable animals or adopt them or be moved by their plight – animals are innocent. They would not give half so much to someone like her.

“Twenty-seven.” A pause. “Twenty-seven years, three months, seventeen days, and—“ Diane glances to the clock hanging on the side of the wall, a plain thing with a silver rim, “—fifteen hours, five minutes, forty-three seconds.” Another pause. “Forty-four.”

“A December birthday?”

“Sagittarius.”

“Leo.”

“Snake.”

“Rabbit.” Samantha can’t stop herself from laughing. “We are both highly compatible and the worst match possible.”

Diane raises one eyebrow, but a corner of her lip turns up in something akin to a smile. “What are you suggesting, Ms. Oliver?”

Samantha leans back into the sofa, finds that she sinks into it a little bit too much, and has to press her hands into the cushions to get herself out. “Firstly, that this is going to be an interesting roommate situation, and secondly,” she points at the sofa with a feigned pout, “you absolutely have to get a better couch, Dee.”

Dee.

Diane hates the word, hates that Samantha has taken to calling her that in the same way she had taken, almost immediately, to calling her “doc” – she assumes it is the lingering adolescence of the seventeen year-old but knows it is probably a need to shorten. Already, shortly after meeting her, Samantha became Sam – and, more importantly, that whatever Samantha might have had as a real name, it would lend itself to shortening as well. But names like that are many and not worth infuriating the younger girl with guessing. If she truly wants, she can search the missing children lists and try to find her there – a picture will work far better than the syllables or shortening of her name – but she chooses not to take that route. Whatever reason this Samantha has for running away, Diane wants to believe it is a good one.

The girl is gangly, tall, smart. Occasionally she has an air for the dramatic, and Diane suspects she is a good singer, although she has yet to hear her sing – and possibly never will. There is too much happiness – or desire for happiness (or feigned happiness) – for this girl to have run away from anything good or for any minor imagined slight. By now she has spent too much time talking with her, and although someone almost half her age cannot be considered an equal in intellect by any means, there are too many attempts – even feeble ones – to understand, too many insights for her too think that Samantha would foolishly run away for something so petty. Her current roommate – and it feels odd to use the word – does not seem to be a petty person. At least, not from what she has seen.

No, if anything, Samantha is overly considerate.

Day after day, Diane leaves for her small office on the outskirts of the city – walking, not because she does not have the money for a car (or even because she does not have a car), but because she enjoys the brisk air and the exercise (which her old therapist promoted) – and when she comes home, she often finds that Samantha has cleaned different areas of their shared apartment.

Now, Diane is not a dirty or chaotic person. Her home is kept much the same way as she keeps herself – carefully crafted for any intrusion. She always washes her dishes immediately after using them (and Samantha’s, too, at first, until the girl followed her lead); she always makes her bed; her room is always neat and clean – and this way of life extends to the rest of her small apartment.

But Samantha, perhaps bored out of her wits, takes dusters and mops and cleaners and scrubs until the apartment, tiny and cramped as it is, seems almost to shine.

It is only later that Diane imagines this must have been because, when she leaves, Samantha has no way of returning.

There are a few ways of keeping a teenage girl in her apartment – not that Diane has tried before, but that she spends time thinking it through on their walk home that first early morning, stays awake thinking even later on. The first, of course, is by implication of threat: Diane may not know Samantha’s real name, but she knows how she looks and, as mentioned before, can easily find her on a missing persons list. She can give detailed information on how to find her, if it came to that (Samantha could not get far within a day, even if she took the bus or the train again – and even then, that would provide some sort of closure. Or, if necessary, they can pull videos from the bus station. She is not sure).

But Diane gains trust by not threatening and by explicitly continuing to do so, by trusting the teen.

The second way to keep the girl is through that same trust – give someone a small measure of trust, and it can go a long way. By trusting Samantha with her meager home (and, again, by not turning her over immediately, by accepting her as her own instead), Diane hopes that Samantha will see her, even remotely, as someone who can be trusted – or, lacking that, as someone who may possibly be trusted in the future, as someone worth the benefit of a doubt.

The third, of course, is food.

The morning after Samantha arrived, Diane wakes early – earlier than normal, even, just in case – and creeps through the living room where Samantha still sleeps, curled up on one side underneath piles of blankets. The redhead faces outwards, hands curled around her old, overly large, and tattered coat, as though ready to wake and bolt at the slightest moment, but she is far too gone in her exhaustion to hear the other woman stepping softly through the room. She shifts once in her sleep, hair falling across her face, and pulls one of the sofa pillows closer.

No snoring, which is, to Diane, the best part. After her freshman year of college and the roommate she had been randomly sorted, she has tried to make sure to have no more snoring sleepers. Sometimes the sounds remind her of her father, which feels awkward, but more often than not they are much louder, snores that keep her awake far longer than her homework ever had. Now that she is older – and found she prefers to be alone – being kept up all night by another woman’s snoring, however gentle, will have a toll on her job. It will not change the way she interacts with her students, but it will make her that much more tired, that much more ready to be somewhere else.

Fortunately, it is a Saturday, and so Diane has the day to herself – perfect following the unexpected appearance of a runaway in her home. Now, some may think this makes waking up early a bit of an annoyance, but Diane enjoys the early mornings far more than she does late nights. (The astute reader will think that this is odd, considering her appearance and insistence on staying with Samantha even earlier, which implies that Diane must have had a late night. In this case, one might wonder where she was and what she was doing before meeting Samantha. Unfortunately, since Diane is not thinking on that, you will not find out. For now.)

When Samantha finally wakes, it is to the smell of bacon cooling, biscuits soaked with butter and still cooking in the oven, white bacon and sausage gravy keeping warm on the stove. She stumbles into the kitchen, rubs one eye with the back of her hand, and glances around, sniffing the air, before noticing Diane bent in front of the oven in a white apron with a flower pattern and spattered with grease and red pasta sauce stains, checking in on the biscuits with her hair tied back and to one side with a very thin blue ribbon.

She sees the girl’s reflection in the oven glass. “Good morning.”

“You do this every morning?”

Diane does not turn away from the oven. “No. Today just seemed…special.” When Samantha gives a shrug, she has her, she knows it. “I believe the biscuits are just about done.” Then she glances back with the barest hint of a smile. “Are you hungry?”

Samantha had not brought up the idea of leaving afterwards.

Diane gave the girl a key to her apartment within the week (it had only taken that long for her to clean everything in sight). If it had been up to Diane herself, she would have given her the spare that same day, but she had not had the money set aside for it and, more importantly, had needed to explain to her landlord why she was making an extra key in the first place, as well as making sure that a second person could live in her apartment with her. When the elderly woman seemed concerned about the younger girl, Diane explained that this was her younger sister, who her parents were letting stay with her while she attended college in the small town. She had not expected her to show up quite so early, had thought the plans still in the process of being worked out, and had planned to talk with her that very week – but her parents had an impulse to wander and explore the world and sent Samantha ahead without a second thought. Only then did the elderly lady accept.

Diane made sure to never let Samantha meet her landlord. She expects the introductions – and, worse, the different last name – will cause problems. So Diane simply took care of the arrangements herself.

Now, Diane has been alone for a long time. Despite previously having other roommates and friends in college (or something like it), none of them have taken any care to keep in contact with her, and although one of her friends during her last year at boarding school is not only within the small town but also working at the college with her, she still keeps very much to herself.

Having a roommate – having someone around – even someone as young as Samantha Oliver is – feels…nice.

For once.

And, perhaps, she allows the other to take advantage of that.

#[ crossroads: sunset ]#[ sunset: chapter five ]#[ apologies for a week late - i was sick last weekend and did not take the time to do any editing. ]

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

This story takes place during the Sanders Asides Are There Healthy Distractions Episodes, suggested by @heavy-metal-papillon . The idea comes from Logan voicing Deciets line when he pops up to grab his hat from Logan, so in this story Deciet and Logan switched places in the episode.

Switching Sides

Summary: Logan wants some time to himself and Janus wants to enjoy a movie with the other sides in peace. They support and respect eachothers wants and needs, agreeing to switch places for movie night. In doing so, they both gained a bit more than they bargained for.

Warnings: none, but if you see any just say something!

Ships: platonic Lociet, past platonic Anciet

WC: 2, 305

Janus adjusted the his tie one final time, giving himself a once over in the mirror. His hair was combed back smartly, hat tucked away safely in his room for the time being. He had gotten the type right this time, and the white embroidered brain logo stood out against the plain black polo. The stiff dark Jean's were a little uncomfortable but the dress shoes fit nicely so he couldn't complain too much. This had to be perfect, even if it was a somewhat casual setting, he couldn't afford to-

"You know you could've just asked."

Yelping, he whirled around to face the real logical side currently sizing him up with a less than impressed expression. "We aren't discussing anything important today, why are you replacing me again?"

Janus sputtered. "I wasn't!"

Logan's eyebrow raised even more. "So my choice of clothing is just that comfortable, right down to the glasses?"

"...yes."

"Janus."

The deceitful side snapped his head up to glare at the other. "Not so loud! You dont know if one of the others would hear!"

Logan cleared his throat. "No one is left in the mind scape currently except us. Even Remus is currently hiding behind the couch. I assure you no one will overhear us, though of course I will call you Deciet if that would make you more comfortable."

Narrowing his eyes, Janus took a careful step back. "Why aren't you angry at me?"

Logan shrugged. "Why are you disguising yourself to simply watch a movie?"

"Because I-well in case...just in case something comes up that....hes using this to distract himself and that's sort of like lying to yourself so it stands to reason i would want to be there." Satisfied with jus excuse he glared at the other, daring him to argue.

But Logan simply nodded. "I've been meaning to get more work done anyway and would rather do that than watch Roman rig the vote multiple times only to complain about the plot of the movie he picked out. Straighten the tie and be careful."

"Just...just like that? You don't even care?"

"I require time to....gather my thoughts, after the more recent dilemmas Thomas seems insistant on making harder than they should be. Peace and quiet would be nice right now and if you're willing to take my place then I wont argue." Nodding more to himself, Logan reached out to hand him a thermos. "Caffiene helps stave off the inevitable headache. I highly recommend it."

Dumbfounded, Janjs could only clutch the thermos go his chest as he watched the logical trait walk back to his room and quietly shut the door behind him. Something he couldn't quite identify tugged in his chest but he brushed it off quickly and sunk down to the apartment below.

Patton was the first to notice him as he settled down stiffly on the couch, waving excitedly and almost spilling what looked like cocoa all over the floor in the process. Nodding he looked up as Roman began to speak.

"Finally! Now that we have our resident nerd here we can vote." Janus watched curiously as little slips of paper were passed around, narrowing his eyes at the clump that Roman hid in his sleeve but decided not to say anything. He looked over as Thomas cleared his throat, taking the paper offered to him with an excited smile which he quickly dropped in favor of Logans usual impassive expression. He didnt expect to win the vote, but maybe since it was movie night they'd watch all the suggested films to make it fair. He didnt really know how this was supposed to work, Remus and....well, nobody ever watched movies together in the part of the mind he resided in.

Quickly jotting down his selection he waited rather impatiently for the rest to finish, gripping the paper tightly as a hat was passed around.

Wait.

He could only stare as the collection hat got to him. How had they gotten his hat? When did they even get it?....How often did they sneak into his room without him knowing? He wanted so badly to yell, take his hat and sink out, but that wasnt who he was right now.

"Hey L, you good?"

His head snapped up so fast he felt his neck creak. Virgil had never....not for a long time....that tone of voice wasn't for him. Virgil stayed with the "light sides" now, he only showed concern for them. Swallowing around the lump in his throat he reluctantly handed the hat back to Thomas to give back to Roman.

"I'm adequate thank you."

His hand shook slightly as he raised the thermos of coffee to his lips, but if Virgil noticed he didn't say anything.

Swinging his attention back to the current conversation he caught Pattons response to whatever had been said. "...voted for Frozen Roman but I'm still rooting for-"

"Oh my gosh! One hundred percent of the votes went to Frozen!"

He scowled as Patton cheered. "No, fu - falsehood, I did not vote for Frozen!"

"You didn't get a vote because you didnt wear a onesie!"

Taking a preemptive swig of coffee, he mumbled out, "I don't wear those anymore, they're too childish."

"No onesie, no vote, like our founding fathers believed!"

Janus snorted quietly, covering it up with an exasperated sigh as he settled more into couch. While the movie was being set up he glared again at the stolen hat on the floor, bringing out his phone discreetly.

Dee: I know I don't have much right to ask you this, but might I request a favor?

Logan: I assure you it's fine. What do you need?

Surprised at the quick response he continued to type, glancing up every now and again to be sure no one noticed his silence.

Dee: Roman stole my hat somehow, I was wondering if it would be possible cor you to get it back? I know you don't like shifting but I'm not sure how discreet it would be for me to try and get it as you.

Logan: It isn't that I don't like it, I'm just not equipped to be good at it. It does not make logical sense to disguise oneself, therefore I am at a disadvantage when it comes to such things. However, I can replicate your scales if I may have permission to 'raid your wardrobe' so to speak. Only with your permission of course.

Dee: Thank you and it's fine. Just dont go snooping around. You may not like what you find.

Logan: I will not. I have no reason to do anything other than procur clothing and so that is all I will do.

Sighing in relief, Janus settled back somewhat comfortably to watch the movie, letting the other sides' idle chatter wash over him.

----

"Fear will be your enemy."

Janus snuck a glance at Virgil at this line, glancing back away quickly at the look of panic that flashed across the anxious sides face. He wondered if Virgil would ever open up about his true nature....though perhaps until things truly calmed down it was for the best he remained determined to be closed off.

----

He nearly jumped out of his skin as Remus popped up suddenly behind him, clapping his hands at the prospect of Anna and Elsa's parents dying at sea, seemingly completely naked and comfortable enough to showcase go the entire living room. Janus shot him a warning look as Remus peered at him curiously, thanking God that for once Remus seemed content to keep his mouth shut.

----

"Wait, Hans is tricking Anna making her believe hes in love with her, but shes not around...why make that face?" He had watched the movie before of course but now that he had people to discuss it with that weren't making sexual innuendos every other sentence he felt much more comfortable speaking out.

"Yeah your right...."

Janus promptly turned out the rest of Roman's sentence, discreetly entering the date into his phone that Roman had admitted he was right in something, even if he didnt know who he was speaking to.

----

"Do you think this place has a lavatory?"

"Ice toilet!" Patton giggled.

"Or a bed?" Roman countered.

"Ice bed!"

"This place sounds awful." His nature made his blood run colder than normal anyway and the thought of sleeping on a freezing cold bed on top of a mountain surrounded by walls of ice made him very much wish he had in fact worn his onesie.

----

Janus chugged another mouthful of coffee in irritation. "You meddled with the vote to ensure we would watch this and yet you're the one constantly making fun of it."

"Look, this is how I show my love!"

Janus rolled his eyes and settled back into the couch wondering if Roman showed his love this way with the others just as much as he did with his beloved disney films.

----

Janus watched as Virgil voiced his thoughts on the matter that had made them all plan this movie night in the first place. A familiar kind of second hand hurt tugged in his chest while the others' thoughts spiraled further and further, unconsciously blanketing the room with an ever more suffocating blanket of anxiety. He watched as Roman grimaced from across the room, Patton fidgeting in place and gripping his mug ever harder and Thomas dragging fingers through messy hair as Virgil only continued talking faster and faster, becoming more and more worked up as the literal word vomit consumed any rational thoughts left in the room.

"Thomas, Virgil?" He waited calmly as Thomas peeked out from his hands and Virgils panicked face snapped towards him. Pushing down the old familiarity he continued on. "Please do me a favor and name me five things that you can see."

"Staircase." Thomas sighed.

"Impending doom." Virgil quickly countered.

"Olaf."

"A future without friends."

"Lamp!"

"Blinds."

"Pants."

"Now four things you can feel."

"Pants."

"A bad feeling."

"The couch."

"Wall."

"Hair."

"Three you can hear." He smiled in relief as Virgil began to participate more, visibly calming as his mind was brought back to the present.

"Olaf."

"The fan."

"The ice machine for some reason."

Thomas really needed to fix his appliances. "Two things can smell."

"Clean shirt."

"The deodorant Thomas put on because....he was gonna go out tonight."

"And one thing you can taste."

"A sour taste in my mouth probably leftover from those reheated tai noodle leftovers."

Both variably more calm, Janus tried gently explaining the technique he had used, though he knew they both already knew it seemed like a good idea to remind them that they were allowed to use the technique whenever they needed it.

"Thank you, Logan." Thomas breathed out as he leaned forward tiredly.

Janus smiled, going to take another swig of his dwindling coffee when he caught site of a figure dressed in black and yellow on the stairs, nobody having noticed his presence yet.

Allowing himself a smirk behind the thermos, he responded. "No problem. Just your cool teacher being his cool self."

He smiled slightly wider as he heard a quiet scoff from the figure, just loud enough that he could hear it. He hoped Logan didn't think he was making fun of him, this was a rare day where he hadn't lied once around the others.

----

Logan settled quietly on the stairs til the end of the movie, seeming content to join them quietly until Roman brought Janus' hat back out.

After they had discussed the movie's ending, with Virgils anxious thoughts still persisting, he realized they needed to do something else that more actively distracted them all from the situation. As Roman brought out his hat to vote on another activity Logan stepped in quickly, Virgil hissing at him much to Janus' amusement while Logan snatched his hat back without a glance in his direction.

"I was looking for this! Don't touch my shit!" Janus bit his lip hard to keep from busting out laughing at the reality of Logan swearing at Roman for him, a warm feeling enveloping him as the others continued with whatever conversgion they had moved on to. His focus came back as the ending of some kind of Frozen fix it fanfiction was being discussed, making it very hard not to feel smug as his suggested was acted upon and Thomas definitely seemed happier than he had previously. Not being needed for whatever ridiculous story was sure go come out he sunk back down into the mind scape, startling slightly when he appeared right next to Logan who was currently fixing a spare tie as he left Janus' room.

"Ah, you're back. I left your hat on the bedside where I assume it was taken in the first place. I'm the future know that with a little concentration we are able to keep certain sides out of our rooms. I would suggest you utilize this to prevent future thievery."

Janus shook off his disguise and held out the stolen tie. "Thank you...for letting me, well you didn't have to allow me to ho in your stead. I....appreciate the trust."

"Keep it." Logan gestured to the tie before turning away. "Just in case."

Janjs watched in confusion as Logan returned to his room to lock himself away again, finally sighing and turning to his own. Smiling a little he laid the tie carefully in a drawer before plunking his hat back on his head, shoulders sagging in relief at the familiarity.

It was nice to pretend to be someone else and talk with fake friends. But maybe, in allowing himself vulnerability, he had found himself another real one.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #lociet #logan sanders #deciet sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #ao3

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

Tumblr ate the ask again so I hope the anon that requested this finds their prompt. Sorry!

The prompt request was along these lines: Roman is still upset with Janus and "accidently" breaks something important to him, making him regress. Maybe Virgil or Patton find and take care of him?

A Little Upset

Summary: Still not over the events of the last video, Roman "accidentally" breaks something very important to Janus. Upset and stressed with seemingly no one to turn to, Janus' age regresses to that of a four year old, locking himself away in his room to wait it out. The last side he expected to care finds him and helps make it better.

Warnings: Roman being petty, blood and injury mention; if I missed any just tell me!

Ships: none

He and Janus froze as they caught sight of each other and the air immediately turned tense. He saw Pattons shoulders rise slightly and guiltily looked away, offering Roman a hesitant nod while he unscrewed the thermos and set it on the table as he continued towards the fridge. He didn't expect Roman to not be upset with him; he understood completely that he had taken it too far but then again so had Roman. He knew the creative side had laughed at Virgil's name as well and that had honestly made it even harder for him to even consider making himself that vulnerable, but it had been the only thing he had known to do to establish some level of trust between him and the others. Plus, he glanced back over to Patton, it was worth it for pancakes.

"How childish can you be?" He growled out, effectively cutting off the semi-cheerful humming.

Roman scoffed, not sparing him a glance as he set the table - with only four plates he noticed - and crossed the floor again to get glasses. "It's only a cup, just conjure a new one."

"Is what?" Roman whirled around. "As bad as Remus'? Worse? You think just because you're out here with us that means everything is somehow fine?!"

"Roman." Patton was looking at the creative side with a mix of concern and...anger? The pan was thankfully empty as it seemed to be forgotten for the time being.

Hearing the warning in his voice, Roman deflated a bit before turning away. "Whatever."

Patton shot Roman a hard look before looking over at the man still clutching the broken thermos to his chest. "Janus-"

He quickly turned away from Patton's gentle tone, sinking down into his room without a second glance.

------

"Morning kiddo." Patton mumbled, the usual cheerfulness gone from his voice.

Raising an eyebrow and looking at each of them in turn he grabbed the syrup to drown the unsuspecting pancakes in front of him. "Morning, Patton. What's uh....is everything good?"

"Janus. And Roman, you really upset him-"

"It was just a cup, Patton!"

"He was crying?" Virgil cut in, worry curling in his gut despite the tension that had been present between them since Janus revealed his name.

Virgil nodded, standing up with his pancakes to leave. "Thanks for the breakfast, I think I'll eat in my room."

He didn't hear Pattons response as he sunk out.

-----

Trying to pick a lock while balancing pancakes on your lap was not as easy as it sounded, but Vitgil was determined to get in the room. Anxiety burned through his veins as the lock finally clicked, hoping his worry was unwarranted.

"Dee?"

"I heard a little about what happened, do you wanna talk about it?"

The toddler hiccupped loudly and buried his face into the pillow, mumbling something that he couldn't catch.

His heart leapt in his throat. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Virgil felt tears welling in his own eyes as he brushed them from Dee's, holding out his other hand in offering.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't come to me. Will you let me help you?"

"Better?" He asked.

The toddler pouted slightly. "Still hurts."

Dee looked back down and hesitated for a second before tears gathered in his eyes again and he thrusted out his arms, making frantic grabby hands at the older side.

He sat on the bed and continued to rock the small side while rubbing his heaving back to try and calm him down. "Would talking about it help?"

He began to panic as Dee only sobbed harder, cursing himself for becoming so bad at this.

Virgil's arms tightened around Dee as he wailed, regret stabbing through his stomach painfully. "Dee, I still like you-"

"No you don't! You n-never want me ar-around since you *hic* since you left!"

"Dee, sweetheart, I promise I still like you. Things are just...complicated right now because everything's still trying to smooth out." Virgil pulled him away slightly si he could look at him properly, reaching forward to wipe at his cheeks. "This is something we need to discuss more when you're big again, but for right now, I'm not lying Dee. I still love and care about you very much. What Roman did was wrong no matter the circumstances and you are completely within your right to be upset."

Dee calmed slightly, still looking unsure but thankfully he had stopped crying. Virgil smiled and gently booped his nose earning a small giggle in response.

"If you want, I can ask Remus about fixing your cup for you and maybe making it so it won't break?" Dee nodded frantically, twisting his fingers in his shirt as his tears stopped completely.

"Then that's what we'll do, but later okay? For right now Inbrought you some pancakes." He gestured over to the bedside table before stopping and making a face, almost mirroring the disgusted way Dee's nose scrunched up at the prospect of eating the now cold and mushy pile of breakfast.

"Gross." Virgil laughed at Dee's declaration, agreeing completely.

"Should of thought that through I guess. I can make you another stack if you want? We can even make shapes!"

Dee glanced over at him, dubious expression completely out of place on his young face. "Not hungry. And you only do blobs."

He was just turning to grab the thermos, intending to get Remus to help him fix it when Dee called out to him quietly.

"Vee?"

Virgil turned and smiled gently. "What is it, Dee?"

"Will you stay?"

His heart melted at the small vulnerable face, his vocal chords unable to form "no" even if he had wanted them to.

"Of course I will."

He knew they would be talking later, but knowing Virgil of all sides still cared about him enough to care for him at his most vulnerable made him a lot less nervous about his future.

This work and others are also available on AO3 if that platform works better for you! Prompt suggestions are still welcome. Please do not tag unsympathetic Roman.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #janus sanders #deciet sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus mention #age regression #roman being a snot #roman is upset and petty

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