#SHE MADE YOU TEA AND CUCUMBER SANDWICHES

[noir-ish-bee]

"flora will see us if we go back there!!" COWARDS . BOTH OF YOU

[jjanuaryrain]

Another DPxDC drabble, this time Sam going to Bruce Wayne for help

Who knows, maybe I'll add this to the dead on main fic I'm working on. We'll see. Anyway, more under the cut.

Words: 3237

The air was cold and clammy, laden with heavy gray clouds and drizzling sheets of rain when Sam Manson stepped out onto the driveway. The rain pattered a steady rhythm on her black umbrella and she folded her long batwing sleeve over her arm to shut the car door behind her. The sleek black airport taxi idled quietly behind her as she turned to take in the familiar mansion looming before her.

The wrought iron gate arcing above her head was slick with rain, but a singular call button and speaker sat sheltered out of the rain. Sam approached and reached to press the button with a single black-tipped finger. The speaker hummed to life a moment later.

“Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking. How may I help you?” The voice was smooth and poshly British, and Sam took a breath of the cool October air.

“Samantha Manson to see Bruce Wayne,” she murmured into the cold metal. It felt wrong to speak at any higher of a level.

There was a moment’s pause and Sam smoothed her hand over the black lace of her dress. She could do this.

“Were we expecting you this evening, Ms. Manson?” The voice replied after a moment.

Sam pursed her lips together and raised her chin. She put on her best impression of her mother. “No, you were not. However, I believe this to be a matter urgent enough to warrant such a visit.”

“I see,” Pennyworth said. And then, “Why don’t you come in out of the rain? I will contact Master Bruce once you’re safely indoors.”

Sam let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“Please, call me Alfred.”

Then the speaker clicked off and Sam took a step back so the gates could slowly swing open on their motorized hinges. She waved off her driver and watched them reverse down the long driveway, then turned back to the building that loomed above her. She took a breath.

She could do this.

⋆₊✧₊⋆

The foyer of Wayne Manor looked much the same as Sam remembered from the few galas she’d attended within its walls – vaulted ceilings, sweeping staircases, and two wings diverging off to the left and right. To Sam’s knowledge, neither she nor any of the other gala guests had ever ventured beyond the ground floor before. She wondered if that would change tonight.

Alfred Pennyworth took her umbrella at the door and she made sure to lightly wipe her boots on the mat inside the door. She felt the inherent urge to remove them before stepping further into the house, but none of the Waynes seemed to be from a similar culture, so she dismissed the feeling.

Alfred showed Sam the way to the drawing room to the right and gestured at one of the many cushy couches. “Have a seat if you wish, Ms. Manson,” he said politely. “Master Bruce is finishing up a call in his study and will be out to greet you shortly. In the meantime, may I offer you some tea?”

Sam took a seat and nodded, folding her hands in her lap. “Earl Grey if you have it, please.” Alfred nodded and stepped through a side door that Sam hadn’t even noticed. And then she was alone.

She took a deep breath and clasped her hands tightly together. She was here now, and there was no going back. If she intended to go through with her plan, she couldn’t back down now. The entire endeavor was a long shot, but it was the only option she had left.

The only option Danny had left.

Alfred returned after a few minutes with a tray laden with fine china and two steaming cups of tea. There were also tea sandwiches and scones, and Sam took one comprised of cucumber and cream cheese along with her tea. She thanked the butler again, and he backed out of the room with a bow. She almost felt like she was back in Japan.

A clock on the far side of the room ticked away the time. One minute, then two, then three. After seven movements of the minute hand, footsteps sounded from the foyer. Sam placed her teacup down and folded her hands once again in her lap as Bruce Wayne approached.

“Samantha,” he said warmly as he swept into the room. He was dressed in a crisp navy suit with the top few buttons undone. His shoes were a clean but well worn pair of loafers. “Or Sam, rather. Is that right?” Sam nodded. Mr. Wayne crossed to and settled into a chair opposite Sam, seizing the second cup of tea from the tray on the low table between them. He grinned at her over the lip of it. “To what do I owe this pleasure? It’s not often that people make the journey to Gotham, and certainly not all by their lonesome.”

Sam gave the man a small smile. She wanted to slap the joviality off his face.

“I’m afraid I’m here for business,” she said instead. “Not pleasure.”

Mr. Wayne’s eyebrows raised and he set his teacup down.

“Is that so?” He asked. He leaned back in his seat and regarded her with keen eyes, sweeping them clinically over her person before returning his gaze to her face. “What business do you wish to discuss, then? I don’t recall having any dealings with your parents in recent memory.”

“That’s correct,” Sam said as evenly as she could. She got the distinct impression Mr. Wayne was humoring her. She squared her shoulders. “I should clarify that I’m not here on my parents’ behalf. I’m here for my own interests.” He raised his eyebrows higher. “Or, I should say, the interests of the world.”

There was a pause. Wayne sat up a little straighter.

“The interests of… the world?” He repeated.

Sam nodded. “It is my understanding that you are one of the main financial backers for the Justice League. Is that correct, Mr. Wayne?”

“It is,” Mr. Wayne confirmed, eyebrows drawing together.

“And the Batman?” Sam pushed.

“Well…” Wayne laughed slightly at that and waved a vague hand in the air. “If he were to exist, then sure. But he’s scarcely more than a ghost.”

“He was on national television with Wonder Woman last week, sir,” Sam deadpanned.

Mr. Wayne chuckled and spread his hands like what can you do? Sam did not return his smile. She was quickly becoming sick of seeing his stupidly bright teeth and she hadn’t been in his presence for 10 minutes. She ground her teeth.

When Sam didn’t respond, Mr. Wayne dropped his hands and studied her face. Then he sat up straighter in his chair and met Sam’s gaze seriously.

“What’s this about then, Sam?” He asked. Sam tried not to prickle too obviously at the use of her name. “What business on behalf of the world have you traveled all this way to present to me?”

Sam took a slow breath through her nose. She unclasped her hands, blood rushing back into them at the release of pressure. She’d brought the folder, but the idea of actually handing it over had her stomach clenching. Amity Park and its inhabitants were her best kept secret, the one she and her friends didn’t dare to speak of outside of its borders. And more than that…

“Have you ever heard of the Ghost Investigation Ward, Mr. Wayne?”

The words just sort of fell out of her mouth, but it worked well enough as a start. It was clearly not what Wayne had expected her to say, at least. The man across from her blinked a few times before his face settled into a confused frown.

“I can’t say that I have. And, please, call me Bruce.” Sam nodded once. She’d expected that Bruce wouldn’t know of the GIW, of course, had even hoped so. But it still stung to be reminded how alone she and her friends had been in dealing with this for all these years.

Sam took a steeling breath. She could do this.

Sam reached into the depths of her sleeve and withdrew the folder. She set it carefully on the table between the two of them, to the right of the tea tray. Bruce tracked the motion before returning his quizzical gaze to her. Sam’s heart rabbitted in her chest, but she forced herself into calm. She breathed in and out once, then spoke.

“This file contains all of the information I have on an agency funded solely by the US government that has been carrying out unlawful experimentation on nonhuman entities for nearly half a decade.”

Silence. Wayne stared. Sam pushed on.

“Their work is in direct contradiction with the Meta Protection Acts, yet they have full authorization from and the full support of the federal government. They–”

“That is quite the accusation,” Bruce interrupted with a frown. Sam couldn’t help the glare she shot his way.

“It’s not an accusation,” she said forcefully. Perhaps a bit too forcefully, because Wayne leaned back slightly in his chair. She took a long breath and searched for that internal place of calm. This was for Danny. She didn’t have the freedom or luxury of letting her emotions control her right now.

She tried again.

“It’s not an accusation, Bruce,” she repeated more calmly. “It’s the truth. This file,” she tapped the closed brown cover and Mr. Wayne’s eyes followed the movement, “should have everything required to substantiate my claims and more. It contains copies of the contracts signed between the ward and the Homeland Security, as well as receipts for funds provided by the government in order to create their so-called ‘experimental facilities.’”

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled into a sneer as she spoke, but Wayne wasn’t looking at her. His eyes had locked onto the Homeland Security crest stamped across the file in front of him. Good.

“The file also contains records of the ward’s stated goals, recent movements, and the results of all of their experiments, up until about a month and a half ago. Once reviewed, I’m sure you’ll find that everything about this agency, from its methods to the very purpose of its creation, is at odds with everything the Justice League stands for.”

And you, I hope, she added silently. Please don’t stand for it, either.

Wayne was flitting between looking at the file and Sam, questions swimming in his eyes. Before he could interrupt again, Sam flipped open the folder to its first page. Bruce sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the file and leaned forward to inspect it. 

Sam watched his eyes rove over the photos Tucker had managed to pull from the GIW’s database before they’d moved it offline: the torn and broken bodies of countless ghosts, the remains of beings that had been ripped apart for no reason beyond human hate and curiosity. Wayne’s eyes were wide as he took it all in, and his skin had paled to an ashy grey. Good.

“This is the business I traveled all this way to discuss with you,” Sam told him grimly. His eyes flicked to hers momentarily before they were drawn inexorably back to the carnage laid out before him. He pulled the file closer, mouth pressed into a thin line. “This is why I ventured to Gotham all by my lonesome and showed up on your step with no warning. These are the interests of the world I come to represent.”

Sam let him take in the horror before him, to soak in the ghastly knowledge that Sam had been living with for over a year now, for a long minute. When he took a breath and began to pull back, she snapped the folder closed and returned it to her sleeve. Bruce looked up when she did so, and she could’ve laughed at the look on his face if the situation weren’t what it was. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Sam,” Bruce said gravely, sinking back into his chair with a shake of his head. “This is–” he started, but Sam held her hand up. She wasn’t finished yet.

Bruce complied, leaning back in his chair and covering his mouth with a hand. Sam folded hers back into her lap.

“I am under no illusions that you extended me the favor of this unplanned meeting for any reason other than my family’s name,” Sam told him. Bruce didn’t even try to object. “So I am going to ask that you keep your opinion of me and my name in mind when I ask you for this next favor.”

Sam met his gaze, willing him to understand how much she needed this. How much Danny needed this. This was their last resort.

After a long, tense moment, Wayne nodded. “I’ll listen,” he said softly. “Whatever you need, I’ll hear you out.”

Sam’s throat tightened at the words, and she nodded stiffly. She was almost done. She could get through this.

“If you mean that,” she started, but her voice broke. She swallowed it away. “If you mean that, then what I need from you, Mr. Wayne, is a meeting with the Batman.”

The silence after the words left her mouth felt suffocating. Bruce just looked at her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she held his gaze defiantly, chin raised. She wouldn’t let him say no. He couldn’t say no.

“The Batman?” Wayne asked after a moment. She nodded again, through the lump in her throat. Bruce frowned, steepling his fingers in front of his face. Then, “Why the Batman?”

Sam blinked. “Sorry?” She asked.

“Well, why not any of the other members of the Justice League? Surely this is something that could be investigated by any one of them.”

“I…” Sam didn’t have a response prepared for that. She squeezed her hands together. “I guess… he’s the one I trust the most to get justice.”

Wayne nodded slowly, considering her through calm eyes. “Is that what you want?” He asked. “Justice?”

Sam hesitated. There were a lot of things she wanted. Justice was one. Revenge, another. Danny to be safe more than anything, really.

But when she thought of herself, of Tucker and the people of Amity Park, of the ghosts who had simply left the Zone at the wrong time…

“Yes,” Sam whispered. Her throat burned. “I want justice.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, to hope for. There were so many ridiculous things she hoped for these days.

“I want to see the GIW demolished,” she continued despite herself. She clasped her hands hard, feeling the muscles shift and the bones grind. A tear threatened to slip down her cheek. “I want to see the agents pay for what they’ve d-done. I want to look every single o-one of them in the fa-face and know that they understand what they’ve d-done. The lives they’ve ruined.”

A sob bubbled up and Sam tried to push it away but it was no use. Now that she’d started, there was no stopping it, no stemming the waves of emotion.

“I want them to understand it and to be f-forced to live with it,” she said through gritted teeth. Tears slipped freely down her cheeks. “I want what they did to destr- destroy them like it’s destroyed u-us. And I want- I want anyone, anyone at all, to acknowledge that they- they left us there! They- they left us there! In that fucking town to rot! To deal with it by ourselves and we can’t- I can’t- I can’t-” Sam covered her mouth with one half numb hand, but the sobbed words came anyway. “I can’t save him!”

Just saying the words out loud had Sam doubling over on the couch, sobs wracking through her body. It felt so good to finally say it, to finally admit it to herself, that she couldn’t reel herself in.

“Oh god,” she cried into her knees. “I can’t- can’t- I couldn’t save him! He’s- and I can’t do anything!” She pressed her skull into the bone of her knees, panting into her skirt as sobs wracked uncontrollably through her body.

A weight dipped onto the couch beside her, and suddenly Sam was tilting over slightly into a strong, warm body. Mr. Wayne didn’t say anything as he held her. He didn’t offer the empty assurances she had come to expect from adults, didn’t try to convince her it was okay, or that she didn’t need to be so upset. He just pulled Sam gently onto his lap and let her cry and cry and cry.

Sam didn’t know how long she laid there, hiccupping and sniffling into Mr. Wayne’s cotton suit. It was just until the burning, aching guilt began to abate, and she was finally able to quell the tears.

Once she’d stopped crying, the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Mr. Wayne’s arm was a reassuring weight across her shoulder and back. Sam listened to the clock tick away across the room and tried to breathe in time with the second hand. Seven seconds in, eleven seconds out – just like Jazz had taught them.

Tears returned to her eyes at the memory, but she just let them fall where they may. She didn’t have enough energy to do much else.

“Why don’t you stay the night in one of our guest rooms, Sam,” Mr. Wayne suggested quietly. He rubbed a gentle hand up and down her arm. “Most of my children are away from home at the moment, so you’ll have the floor to yourself. It’ll just be my youngest, Damian, on the floor below you. Alfred can make it up for you now, if you’d like?”

Sam sniffed and pushed herself into a sitting position. Her face felt tight and dry despite the waterworks, and she resisted the urge to wipe at it. She relished the idea of being able to wash away her ruined makeup and sleep the day off in a real bed, rather than at the hotel as she’d planned.

“Yes,” she agreed quietly. “That sounds very nice, thank you.” She saw Mr. Wayne smile at her from the corner of her eye before he stood and called for Alfred. The two of them had a quiet conversation that she ignored in favor of gathering herself further, and then the butler vanished once again. Sam looked up at Bruce.

“You… You believe me, right?” She asked tentatively. She felt childish saying it, but she had to know this hadn’t been a waste. She had to know there was still hope. “You’ll think about what I said?”

Bruce Wayne gave her a soft smile, much realer than the ones she’d received when she’d first arrived. He returned to his spot on the couch and took her hand, looking her in the eye.

“If there is any truth to what you’ve told me,” he started and Sam couldn’t help the face she made. “Of which I have no doubt,” Bruce added quickly, with another slightly ironic smile. Then his face grew more serious, and he gently squeezed her hand between both of his. “Then I will do everything in my power to see the GIW stopped and shut down, permanently. You will get your justice, Sam. I guarantee it.”

And, just for that moment, Sam actually believed him.

[zorosangell]

Imagine Katakuri sitting still while his daughters cover him in glitter, nail polish, and hair clips 🎀 Just imagine him having a sweet little bonding moment with his girls

⛥ﾟ・。 fairytale

SECRET BONUS/prequel to pocus -- katakuri is busy playing tea party with his daughters when his two sons attempt to party crash—with a twist. luckily, sir dad is here to save the day.

cw: fluff, comfort, dad katakuri, katakuri is katakuri, the girls are adorable, he is thirty-five, you are thirty-four, soda is eleven, cocoa is eight, the twins are four, chai is two,

"So, tell me, Sir Dad, how goes your work in the Lollipop Court?" Cocoa asked in a British accent, tipping her nose in the air. "I heard you're working on a tough case."

Your large, floppy sun hat—which was entirely too big—sat slightly crooked on her head, shading her face as she took a sip out of her empty, plastic tea cup.

Unsure of what to say, Katakuri hesitated a moment, quickly wracking his brain for something.

He had no idea he worked in the Lollipop Court, much less was currently on a case.

Hell, he didn't even know how Cocoa knew what a court case was.

"It goes... well..." he answered, unsure, as he raised a brow, his two, large fingers completely dwarfing the tiny teacup in their grasp.

"Daddy!" Latte loudly whispered, stealing his attention as she leaned over from her seat next to him, shielding her mouth from her older sister. "You gotta stick your pinky out! S'the tea party rules!"

Glancing down at his hand, he quickly corrected himself, before turning back to her.

"My mistake."

Promptly, Cocoa nodded, before turning to her younger sister.

"Lady Latte, how goes your fashion business?" she asked, fake eating a toy scone. "I must say, I loved your fashion show."

"It goes soooo good!" Latte grinned, her accent coming off more Valley Girl than British. "I just got finished making a new skirt! Look!"

She motioned toward her father, who was sitting in a chair entirely too small for him, his leather-clad knees pressed firmly against his bare chest.

Around his large waist sat an equally large, sparkly, pink tutu, which the young girl had actually managed to sew herself—with your assistance, of course.

"His hair! I did Sir Dad's hair!" Frappe chimed in, excitedly, pointing toward his spiky, pink hair, which was now haphazardly filled with all sorts of flowery clips and blows.

Proudly, Cocoa nodded, taking another "sip" of her tea.

"And, of course, I did a splendid job on his makeup."

Together, the girls' gazes shifted toward his face, where his cheeks were adorned with large, circular blotches of blush and matching pink eye shadow.

His usual neutral expression made him look like he'd rather be anywhere but there, but the girls knew their father and knew that wasn't what he meant by it at all.

"Fantastic jobs, everybody! Let's toast!" Cocoa cheered.

"Yeah!" Frappe and Latte agreed, raising their cups in the air.

But, for a moment, the girls paused, quickly realizing that none of them knew how to actually toast.

"Uhhh... nice work?" Cocoa suggested, unsure.

"Yeah, nice work!" the twins played along.

The four of them happily clinked their glasses together—Katakuri included—promptly taking a large sip.

Expectantly, Latte watched as her father downed his tea, waiting for his commentary.

"Whaddya think, Daddy? Do ya like it?" she whispered, excited. "I made it myself!"

Nodding, he leaned over, giving her soft head pats.

"It's delicious, munchkin," he complimented, heart warming when her eyes turned starry. "You did a very good job."

Cocoa and Frappe hummed in agreement, each pretending to take a bite out of a toy cucumber sandwich.

"I—"

Instantly, Katakuri's haki kicked in, showing him a rather tumultuous future.

'Oh, no.'

"RAH!" Soda exclaimed, bursting into the girls' room with a flourish, beginning the assault on his sisters with his two water guns. "TIME TO CRASH!"

"EEEEEEK!" the girls squealed, putting up their hands in defense as their older brother began to soak them.

Glancing around the room, the boy's eyes went wide when they set sights on his father, all princess-ified.

"Jeez! What the hell did you guys do to Dad?!" he grimaced, genuinely concerned.

"Hey! Sir Dad looks great!" Latte defended with a pout.

"Soda! Cut it out! You're ruining our tea party!" Cocoa whined, brows furrowed as she glared at him.

"And my hair!" Frappe chimed.

"And my dresses!" Latte added.

"Pssh! You call this a party?" he scoffed, a devilish grin curling on his lips. "What kinda crummy party has you sit down the whole time?"

"A tea party!" they all shouted together. "And we're not gonna let you ruin ours!"

With a knowing smirk, Cocoa turned to her younger sisters.

"Girls! Code Tea Cake!" she called out.

Confused, Katakuri raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Code... Tea Cake?'

"Yeah!" the twins exclaimed, promptly flipping over the table as a shield and snatching up their own personalized BB guns from the underside.

"Let's go! Return fire!"

Without hesitation, each of the them began shooting back at their brother, raining a hail of BB pellets in an attempt to ward him off.

"ACK! HEY, NO FAIR!" he exclaimed, ducking behind a huge stuffed bear. "I'M USING WATER! YOU GUYS ARE USING BULLETS!"

"This is what you get for wetting my dress, ya big jerk!" Frappe called, not letting up.

"Get from behind, Mr. Fuzzykins, you coward!" Cocoa barked. "Don't take him down with you!"

Katakuri watched with a certain pang of pride—and a bit of amusement—as his girls defended themselves quite well, having each other's backs without question, and not running off crying like most girls their age would.

They were prepared for an assault—with both formation and weapons—and fearless in their resolve.

It made him hopeful for the strong, independent women they would grow up to be, all thanks to yours and his tutelage.

"ABORT! ABORT! PHASE ONE IS A FAILURE! TIME FOR PHASE TWO!" Soda shouted into his toy walkie-talkie. "CHAI, YOU'RE UP! BRING IN THE SECRET WEAPON!"

Confused, the girls turned to each other, raising a brow.

"Secret weapon?"

Together, they all watched with anticipation as small footsteps began to pad toward the door, before their youngest brother popped out from behind it.

"Weapon!" Chai giggled, toddling into the room as he held the handle of a jump rope, the other end of it seeming to be attached to something.

Katakuri's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

'What the—?'

"Someone help me!" you cried—for pretend, of course—as your youngest son "dragged" you into the room. "I've been captured!"

You were tied up by the rest of the rope, clad in a regal play-gown and toy crown.

"Oh, no! They got Queen Mommy!" the girls exclaimed, their smiles and giggles quite the contrast from their tone.

Play time was getting good.

At the sight, Katakuri let out a small chuckle, brow raising with intrigue.

Sure, he was nothing but a lowly worker in the Lollipop Court, but he had to say... the queen was quite the looker.

"Hold your fire!" Cocoa ordered, pushing down her sister's guns. "We gotta break her free!"

"But Soda's gonna spray us again!" Frappe glared, blowing raspberry at her brother as he peeked from behind the bear, dragging down his eyelid and sticking out his tongue.

"Sir Daddy! You have to save Queen Mommy!" Latte ran up to her father, frantically tugging at his tutu as she giggled. "Hurry!"

Raising a brow, he fought off a smirk, carefully placing his teacup on the ground.

"I thought I was a lawyer in the Lollipop Court?" he asked, feigning confusion.

"Yeah, well, you're a knight, too! Sir Daddy, remember?" she clarified.

"Ohhh, I see," he nodded, slowly standing from his seat. "Then let me get to work."

Quickly, he pulled off his tutu, wiping off the makeup on the back of his arm before shaking out the clips in his hair, returning to his usual, imposing self.

"Hey, no fair! You guys have Dad on your side!" Soda complained, brows furrowed.

"Sucks to suck, ya big jerk!" Cocoa taunted, amused.

"Quick! Chai! Knock her out and retreat!" Soda ordered, getting ready to run away.

Slowly, the toddler turned to his mother, balling up his tiny fist before softly tapping it against her leg.

"Out!" he babbled with a grin.

At his touch, you pretended to flinch, slowly falling backwards.

"Oh, no! I'm hit!"

"Save her, Daddy!" the girls squealed, happily, as they hugged each other.

"RUN, CHAI!"

In an instant, Katakuri was already there, capturing Soda and Chai before swooping in to catch you, bridal-style.

"Yay! He did it!" the girls cheered, jumping up and down.

"Dang it! That's is cheating!" Soda exclaimed, struggling against the jump rope he and Chai were tied up in.

"Yay! Dada!" the smaller boy cheered along.

"No, Chai... no yay."

"Wait! It looks like she's asleep!" Cocoa called out, realizing you had yet to "wake up".

"Oh, no! She's in a deep sleep!" Frappe snickered, turning to her twin. "You know what that means..."

"True love's kiss!" Latte squealed, clasping her hands together. "Sir Daddy! You have to break the spell!"

Disgusted, Soda's eyes bulged out his sockets, as if the idea was utterly absurd.

"No way! Gross!" he scoffed. "Don't do that here!"

Carefully, Katakuri cradled your neck, slightly lifting your head as he examined your face.

You were his queen, his personal princess just waiting to be saved.

Did he dare live out the cliche?

Thinking back on the fairy tales he read as a boy, he'd be a liar if he said he didn't think about being the handsome prince at least once.

But now, he truly was; and you were his fair maiden.

So, yes, he did dare.

Leaning down, he carefully pressed his lips against yours, wary of his sharp teeth at the odd angle as his grip on you shifted to one that held you like a dip.

You were warm and soft, and a sensation he'd missed in the past few hours of playtime.

"Awww!" the girls sighed, dreamily. "How romantic!"

"Barf!" Soda gagged, severely grossed out. "Cut it out! I don't need to see that!"

"Barf!" Chai mimicked, honestly unaware of what was going on.

"Hey, don't be a jerk, you two!" Cocoa scolded, brows furrowed as she rested her hands on her hips.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of your handsome husband.

You had been saved, and—as per usual—it was by the man you cherished so dearly.

"My, my, Sir Dad... what handsome teeth you have," you teased, arms wrapping around his neck

He let out a faint chuckle, amused, before deciding to play along.

Discreetly, his hand trailed upward to hold your thigh, his other sliding over to grasp the small of your back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, making sure he was out of earshot of the kids.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear."

[munsonsmixtapes]

Tea Party

dad!simon x mom!reader

You get home from work to see Simon and Layla having a tea party

You can find part one here!

The tiny table in Layla’s is laid with her tea set as well as a few snacks that Simon has made. Layla is in one of the chairs while he's on the floor, the two of them clinking their empty cups together before taking sips from them.

She insisted on making him wear one of her crowns as well as some of her jewelry and he was very quick to agree. He’d do anything for his little girl. All she has to do is bat those lashes and whatever she wants, she’s got it. She definitely got that trick from her mother.

“Cucumber sandwich, my lady?” He asks, holding out the plate filled with the snack to her and she takes one.

“Why thank you kind sir,” she replies before taking a tiny bite while Simon turns to the stuffed bunny that’s sitting in the chair next to him.

“Mr. Whiskers, cucumber sandwich?” He asks, holding out the plate.

“I’d love one,” he replies, putting on a voice for the bunny and his heart warms when he hears the giggles coming from his daughter. He puts a sandwich on the plate in front of the bunny then sets the sandwiches in the middle of the table.

He turns to her and she’s still eating her sandwich, talking to the teddy bear that’s on the other side of her. He doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone more, wondering how he got so lucky. The second Simon held her after she was born, he knew that she was going to be something special. And seeing the way she’s grown up, he’s sure that she is.

Even though she’s got a little bit of each of you in her, she’s still very much her own person. She’s got her own interests and sense of humor and he loves how she loves being herself. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks and sometimes he wishes he could be more that way.

“Daddy.” He feels a small hand shaking his shoulder and he turns to Layla, seeing that she’s been trying to get his attention.

“Yes, my love?” She’s looking at him with those big eyes and just knows she’s going to say yes to whatever she’s asking.

“Cookie?” Her voice is so soft and sweet and he’s quick to grab a cookie from one of the plates and hand it to her. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my lady,” he replies with a wide smile before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I can’t believe I’m missing out on all the fun.” The two of them turn to see you standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as you watch them like they’ve hung the moon.

“You’re just in time for tea, darling,” Simon smiles, holding out his hand to you. You step into the room and take his outstretched hand before sitting down on the floor next to Simon.

You get in a quick kiss before Layla is making a beeline for you, planting herself in your lap. If you’re around, chances are, that’s where she’ll be. It’s where she finds the most comfort. Well, that actually might be snuggled up between the two of you in your bed after she has a nightmare.

“I missed you,” she says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Missed you too, baby,” you reply as you give each other a hug.

“Daddy, you have to offer mommy a sandwich, it’s the rule.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes and reaches for the plate of sandwiches, holding it out to you. “Sandwich, my lady?” He asks and you can’t help but feel teary eyed as you look at him dressed like that. This is everything you dreamed of when you would think about your future family and you can’t believe it actually became a reality.

“Why thank you kind sir,” you reply, taking a sandwich and taking a bite. “Alright, I hate to cut the party short, but it’s time for dinner.” Simon is more than grateful to hear that. These tiny foods are doing nothing to satisfy his hunger.

“I got pizza,” you tell him and his stomach growls in response.

“And breadsticks?” Layla asks, her eyes lighting up.

“Of course, baby,” you nod and the three of you stand to your feet.

“Daddy, airplane,” she says, holding her arms up and Simon is quick to scoop her up into his arms, holding onto her stomach and legs as he races out of the room making airplane noises. You’re quick to follow and join them at the table where the pizza sits and as you sit next to your husband, you can’t help but feel more than grateful for the family the three of you have built together.

[cheeseatlantic]

Cheese, the Johnny and Reader cheese where she accidentally finds his sketchbook, and he was embarrassed but still so gentle and loving was so beautiful. It’s so lovely. Thank you. 🙏🏻 Please more Johnny coziness and loveliness.

AHHHH RHANK YOU I LOVE YOU ANON MWAwaMWAH

FEEDING STUPID(S)

It started with a lovingly packed lunch.

Homemade bánh mì with slow-roasted pork belly, crisp pickled vegetables, soft baguette. A little container of lemongrass broth on the side. Some spiced mango slices and a tiny handwritten note taped to the lid: “Don’t share. You deserve nice things. Love you.”

Johnny pulled it out during break, beaming with the pride of a man deeply loved—and deeply fed.

Kyle and Price immediately leaned over.

“The hell is that?” Kyle blinked at the sandwich like it might sing. “Did your partner cook for you again?”

Johnny, smug as anything, nodded. “Aye. Said I need proper fuel for blowin’ shite up.”

Price whistled low. “That’s better than what we get in the mess three times over.”

But before Johnny could even get the lid fully open—

A gloved hand came from behind.

Quick. Silent. Precise.

And yoinked the entire container.

Johnny squawked. “OI—, you absolute gobshite, give that back!”

Simon didn’t even look guilty. He just cracked the container open and took a bite, still walking.

“Mmm,” Ghost said around a mouthful of Johnny’s lunch. “Weird. Thought this was mine.”

Johnny stared, slack-jawed. “You don’t even bring lunch!”

“Exactly. Must’ve got mixed up.”

“You walked in with empty hands!”

Simon glanced over his shoulder. “You imagining things again, MacTavish? Worryin’ me.”

Johnny turned to Price and Kyle. “You saw that, right?! That’s my sandwich!”

Price took a sip of his tea. “Bit hard to say, Sergeant. It was pretty fast.”

Kyle nodded solemnly. “Could’ve been anyone.”

Johnny threw his arms up. “Unbelievable. Gaslit by my own bloody mates.”

⸻

That night, Johnny came home, dramatically flopping onto the kitchen counter as you plated dinner.

“Love of me life,” he groaned, “I need a tactical solution.”

You blinked. “…To what?”

He pouted. “LT keeps nickin’ my lunch. Full-on stealth op. He even stole the mango slices. And lied about it.”

You tried not to laugh. “Do you want me to pack you extra?”

“Nah, I want retribution—”

But the next morning, when Simon opened his gear bag, he found a perfectly packed lunch inside. Carefully labeled in blocky handwriting:

“Simon! Yes, this one’s actually for you. Eat it and stop stealing Johnny’s. Also I know you took the mango. – [Your Name]”

He stared at it in silence for a moment.

Then cracked the lid.

Inside: slow-roasted beef rendang, coconut rice, crispy shallots on top. A side of Thai cucumber salad. Mango sticky rice wrapped in wax paper.

“…Oh,” he muttered. “…Shit.”

Johnny caught him halfway through his first bite. “That’s right, ya thief. My spouse made you your own. No more grand larceny!”

Simon just hummed. “Yours was still better last week.”

“YOU—!”

⸻

By the end of the month, you were meal-prepping for three.

Price quietly asked if he could “get in on that action too, if it’s not too much trouble.” Kyle offered to wash every dish in your house in exchange for one of your burritos.

And Johnny?

Johnny never shut up about you. Not once.

Not about your cooking. Not about the notes.

Not about how lucky he was.

Because he was—and he knew it.

[awkward-fink]

„Love you, please take care of yourself.” You say, your fingers clutching onto the doorframe so hard you would surely leave imprints behind, but you didn’t care in this moment. Because in front of you stands your husband, lopsided smile on his face, clean shaven and his mohawk freshly touched up by your hands and his careful instructions. "Love ye back, hen. Ah'll be back quicker than ye can believe." He murmurs to you, accent thick and his eyes bright.

You don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave you behind again and do something crazy he will tell you all about later (or Gaz will spill the beans, like the time your husband decided to nearly drop a half of a warehouse on his head! Thank you Gaz.).

“It’s jist three months, gie or tak a wee bit, love. Ah’ll be back sune.” “I’m gonna miss you so much, Love.” “Ah'm gonnae miss ye even mair.” “Did you pack the lunch I ma-“ you cant end your sentence as your husband leans into your face, his lips warm and inviting and firm on your own, shutting up every train of thought you had as he kisses you breathless and stupid.

You only remember after you had closed the front door, calmed your racing heart and looked into the kitchen. And there it was, the small package of sandwiches you had made for your husband to take with him, untouched and sloppily wrapped, just like you had placed them there. And the lunch you had made, spaghettis with tomato sauce, was also untouched. Your heart sank.

----------------------------------------

“-and then he just goes off to wherever and leaves behind the meal I made for him! This isn’t fair, Leonora!” you pant at the end of your tirade, angrily huffing and growling as you drink the tea your friend and neighbor made in one go, nearly burning your tongue in the process.

“Oh dear, well, honey, how do I say this…” your elderly neighbor wiggled her glasses with one finger, tilting her head from left to right, the curls on top of her head not even moving once. (Soap had once joked that Leonora put so much gel and hairspray into her mountain of curls, she could headbutt any men or women into submission with only one headshake.) “Your food is…” Your shoulders shake and sag as you watch your friend try to think of a way to describe your food in a way that would not totally mortify you or send your soul into hell.

“Bad? A disaster? Hellish? Even a demon would recoil from that torture?” “No, Honey- what I meant to say was, that you have a talent.” Your posture straightens and your eyes glimmer in hope- “You have the talent to burn water.” – only to turn watery and gloomy as your friend goes on with her words.

“That’s not nice…” “But sadly true.”

Leonora leans over the table to pat your shoulder gently, giving you a smile like only a loving grandmother can give. Your eyes turn towards the forgotten sandwiches, which looked even sadder than before and yes, maybe it smelled a little off, but it surely couldn’t be that bad…

You both watch as the single cucumber slice slowly slides down at the side, giving a squelching plopping sound as it hit the table. There is silence for a few seconds before you turn hurt and sad eyes on Leonora, who only pats your shoulders again.

“Kyle told me, that Johnny prefers the mess hall food over mine. The mess hall! No one likes the food from the mess hall!” you are close to sobbing, clutching the mug of tea to your chest like a lifeline.

“Oh dear... Well, there is one thing we can do.” “There is?” “I meet my other friends every Tuesday night for a bit of cards and cooking. How about you come beforehand, and I can teach you some recipes? And the base techniques of cooking?” “You would do that for me?” “Yes, dear. Can’t have your man avoiding home because you cant cook. Think about the children you will have to feed someday!” “You are a saint! Thank you! Please, I beg of you, help me!”

You felt better now, Leonora would help you, she would rescue your culinary skills from the depths of nothing they were at and rise you up towards normal housewife-level meals, you were sure! This would be a piece of cake!

---------------------------------------------------

IT WAS NOT A PIECE OF CAKE! Leonora was menace, a demon from hell! She was a strict and harsh teacher, and you lost count of all the times she hit your arse with a wooden cooking spoon. It felt like you lived through a montage of training! It started with only Tuesdays and then Thursdays as well, and Sundays to help with baking for church! And then Leonoras friends, a gang of grannies, took it upon themselves to further your training!

You chopped and sliced and diced and julienned until your hands could do it perfectly in your sleep (“That is not uniform, this piece of carrot it slightly off! Again!” Julia barked at you, the waif of a woman poking you with her bony fingers until you got it right).

You helped with shopping, hauling load after load of ingredients, having to run back to the shops every time you got some of the listed items wrong (“This is a bitter melon and not a cucumber, run again little chicken, run again!” Tia Zia cackled after you, sending you right back out into the rain again to run to the store before it closed in 5 minutes).

Soon you were frying (“Make it hotter, the potatoes will soak up all the oil if its not hot enough!”), baking (“Is that salt in the cookies? Honey where was your head?”), kneading Pasta from scratch and finally, you cooked a whole meal for the gang of furious grannies and felt like you were back in school, in your exams, your heart racing as the committee of specialists discussed your results before turning to you with hard eyes and grim faces.

“Dear, this food is-“your heart sank and raced at the same time, your stomach dropping as Aunty Angela cracked her neck as she tried to look at you sternly, “this food is good. It is edible and even tastes better than what my niece Lilly makes. Congratulations!”

----------------------------------------------

“You sure you don’t want to go to another diner before I get you home to your wife?” Johnny snorted and rubbed his overfilled stomach. He was sure he was having a foodbaby growing in there after this morning and this midday. His teammates had stuffed him with pancakes and hashbrowns and every other item of breakfast they could get their hands on and then they did it again at lunch! He was so full; he would hurl if he had to eat another piece of food!

“Naw, it’s awright. Ah’m fair burst, ah cannae eat another thing. An’ Gaz promised he’d send me a care package in a few days.” He smiles at his Captain, rubbing his bulging stomach and fighting down a burp that was stuck in his throat. “Yeah well... next mission is not so far away, no worry. And Ghost packed the rest of the MRE’s into your bag for emergencies.” “Ta, Captain. She's a braw wife in everythin' else, but her cookin' is…” he falls silent and only grins. And then the car is already coming to a stop and his heart beats faster in his chest. He is so close to take his wife into his arms again, to kiss her silly and then sweep her off her feet and into the bedroom, where- “Cheers fur the lift, Captain. Right nice o’ ye!.” “Was on the way. See you soon, stay strong.” “A'll dae that! See ye in a few days tae weeks!" Johnny gives a sloppy salute before rolling out of the car, dragging his luggage out from the backseat to lug it right after him.

And then he is off, loping up the way towards the front door, which is already opening and his wife, the love of his life stands before him, her eyes shining and her hair glossy and her skin looking silky smooth and soft and he can’t wait to wrap his rough hands around her and sink into her softness, be back home again.

He doesn’t remember what he said, or what she wanted to say, his lips are on hers, his arms hold her tight to himself and they stumble inside. And then he comes to a stop, his nose twitching as he sniffs the air, his head turning towards the kitchen. “Sointhing smells awfy guid.” He murmurs and stares at you as if you had grown a second head. “Thank you, it’s a new recipe I tried.” He swallows, his mouth watering. His eyes roaming over her happy glowing face. “Ye... ye cooked this?" “Yeah. And don’t worry, I followed the recipe to a T.” You beam at him, your hands stroking over his arms and shoulders and down his torso, making sure he was alright, holding onto him with delight and happiness radiating from you.

And Johnny, still filled with food and stuffed to the gills with cheap cheeseburgers from lunch, takes another whiff before a soft, but cautious smile steals over his lips. “Ah could dae with some food."

----------------------------------------------

He must have died. It tasted great.

[remus-poopin]

What are your top HP fics based on writing? Like things that are just beautiful to read

Wow I think I’m answering this 3 months late sorry aghh. Again, I don’t read as many fics as I would like to, but I’ve been changing that recently and these are 4 that have really stood out to me in terms of writing!

Savour the Moment by - @evesaintyves

This fic made me both sad and hungry

This is a truly beautiful portrait of Molly and her relationship with Ginny. I really love how effortlessly this weaves in the food and cooking imagery with the emotions of the characters. The descriptions are so detailed and vivid that you can practically taste the cakes and pies off of the words alone.

Grief is hanging over this fic heavy, grief from Molly with her brothers and grief yet to come from Ginny. These two very different women, who also feel things very differently, have an extremely engaging back and forth of attempted connections. Both of them want it but aren’t able to easily get there with each other, and that struggle was very compelling to me.

Really such a great fic, I always find myself coming back to it

Favorite quotes:

“Molly has always tasted her memories. Perhaps that's why she's always been a bit thick round the middle: food relishes the good times, is the physical stuff of love. Ever since she was a little girl: plum pudding was Christmas and summers were cherry ice cream and chocolate flake. The time she broke her ankle jumping down from a tree, to this day, is the chalk flavor of Skele-Gro and a limp cucumber sandwich from the St Mungo's cafeteria. Her mother is sweet milky tea and her father is cottage pie with mushrooms, his favourite, flavoured with the smoke of his pipe in the air.”

“She learned to cook at her own mother's elbow and she is full of warm, creamy, ginger-flavoured memories of it. But Ginny's never liked being in the kitchen with her mum. She wants to be out with the boys, flying on broomsticks, getting jostled and scraped and braying coarse laughter through a mouthful of blood. That's why, when she thinks about Ginny, it's not the cream tea and swiss roll flavours she expected when she learned she was finally having a girl. It's rain-drenched popcorn at the Quidditch match and the salt of a kiss on Ginny's sweaty, gritty forehead.”

Sparkling Cyanide - @saintsenara

The house elf plot-line in the hp books leaves MUCH to be desired when it comes to fully and unequivocally condemning slavery. Due to this, you might find that me and my black ass are, shockingly, not its biggest fans.

However this fic is a brilliant look into elves’ oppression and enslavement AND their culture and agency.

This fic focuses on the death of Hepzibah Smith and the conditions surrounding and leading up to it. Specifically the subjugation of Elves and how that system encourages the idea of them as docile, unintelligent, and submissive (And how this perception can be wielded against the wizards that enslave them).

What I find so striking about this fic is how language is centered as a tool to illustrate the functions of colonial mindsets. I think this does a fantastic job at subverting the trope of “improper English = stupidity” that HP uses so frequently.

This was an extremely satisfying and moving read!

Favorite quotes:

“Come quickly and stop faffing,’ Mes Ebhsebbá says to Eokhí. She is clicking her fingers at Eokhí, like there is magic in her fingers. There is magic in Eokhí’s fingers. She is able to make the whole house fall to the ground if she is wanting to.”

“They is not knowing that we is knowing how to take the lives we is wanting from them. And that is why they is not thinking about how many weapons they is putting in kitchens.”

The Seven names of Mrs Zabini - @artemisia-black

And if I said that she did nothing wrong then what?

I’ve mentioned this fic several times before but I don’t think I’ll ever be over it. The way this is written is actually masterful; the attention to details, the poetic language, the characterization. I’m going to scream.

There is just something about this fic that entrances me. This is actually my favorite genre of story, the “good for her!” category, and whenever I read/watch these I go temporarily insane.

Because this is in first person we’re really getting into Mrs. Zabini’s mindset and the traumas that inform it, and this is extremely effective/convincing in making you stay on her side even while she is committing cold blooded murder.

Another thing I love about this is how the actual murders are so casually placed in the story, in comparison with how rich the rest of the imagery that Mrs. Zabini is describing. It’s almost like an afterthought. It makes her sound so much colder and more calculating than if there was a long depiction of each individual killing, so I thought that was a really brilliant writing choice.

If you love Gone Girl definitely give this a read!

Favorite quotes:

“There is a reason that Venus herself emerges from her half shell as a fully formed woman, blinking naively into existence. This is what men actually desire, a goddess who knows nothing of the world and so is more easily amused by the trinkets he throws at her. A divine being who is blissfully unaware of her own divinity. A being who had no thought but him and who cannot function outside of him.”

“I had gone to my wedding bed expecting a transformative experience where his penis would alchemise me from a girl into a woman. An expectation I had imbibed from a society that exalts the wonder of the male member. Instead, as I lay there shivering with his rotten seed running down my leg, I felt used and disgusted at the man I had been condemned to spend the rest of my life servicing”

“And as I rattled around our isolated country house, I believed him. Hiding myself from mirrors, starving my body in order to obtain the concave stomach and taut thighs that he so desired. But when I corrected one perceived flaw, he would find another. Peppering his insults with crumbs of tenderness that lured and trapped me in reality of his making.”

The Secret in the Heart of the Forest by @myrskytuuli

This one has it all: accidental cannibalism, ancient rituals, Snape sass, feral Lily, elf politics, generational trauma, fairy induced psychosis, and most importantly the Marauders + Sev and Lily + Regulus and Narcissa all teamed up. Oh yeah I’m eating this up

This one is longer than the others so I’m really going to try to make this as brief as I can but this fic is actually insane because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a hp fic and I think I could talk about it forever.

I was genuinely so giddy reading this. There were so many twists and turns and it remained gripping the whole time. This is a psychedelic fever dream, introspective character study, horror adventure and a beautiful tale of friendship all wrapped in one. I absolutely loved everyone’s characterization here, they’re all so beautifully flawed and you can really understand where they are coming from on a personal level but also on a sociological level, I think the author did a MASTERFUL job at this.

The worldbuilding is INSANELY good (the interlude chapters revolving around each of their mothers made me cry repeatedly. And Elieens chapter is just incredible, I have no words). And the pacing is just excellent, I never felt like any of the growth was forced or unearned.

This storytelling is also amazing, whenever there was a theme or reference brought up before in the story that got tied back in again, my mouth would physically drop because it was so seamless yet so meaningful and impactful.

(Sorry but I just need to talk about characterization for a brief minute because this has some of my favorite characterizations that I’ve ever read of some of these characters:

This is my absolute favorite Lily. Like ever. She feels so real here with her anger and flaws and quirks. She is neither villainized nor deified but a full fleshed out character. I just love her!

This is also my favorite James! James is usually a tough character for me to stay engaged with but this fic does an excellent job at balancing his strengths and flaws while keeping him compelling.

This Snape is PERFECT!!! I actually don’t think I can describe how much I love this depiction, all I can say is if you’re a Snape lover who enjoys him being a lil shit you should read this.

Also Peter is just incredible here, too often is he forgotten but this fic really does him justice.

Ok I’ll stop but just know that I could go on and on about all of these characters)

And seeing these characters who would normally hate each other come together to build meaningful bonds while they grow with their own issues is actually cathartic.

If you are a Marauder and Snape fan this is required reading, I really can’t recommend this enough!

Favorite quotes (there were way too many omg):

“Sirius had been angry for a long time now. Sometimes Sirius wondered if he had been born angry, if his first cry had never truly ended”

“Remus had said nothing after that. He was becoming a champion of saying nothing.”

“‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘I won’t forgive what you did to me.’ Severus said back with conviction.

‘Good.’ Sirius said with equal conviction.”

“At this point, Lily had arrived like the loyal shadow she tended to be around Snape, spitting out an angry ‘What the fuck?’”

“Sometimes he burned with the need to yank himself free of Lily and the blade of love hanging between them. To hurt her when she stepped over Severus' abused body like an avenging angel that looked down at him and made him look small, dirty, used and worthless. A worm crawling in the mud.”

Ok that’s all for now! I definitely think you should give all these a read!!

[rebelliousstories]

New Year’s Eve

New Year/ New Fic

Relationship: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 874

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist: Here

Summary: When you are married to a pilot for the U.S. Navy, you get to experience some cool things.

Consider Donating: Here

“You ready to go, honey?” Bob ran back inside to the house as he noticed that his wife was not next to him. “Honey, we’re gonna be late. Let’s go.”

“Alright, alright. I’m coming, Robby.” She finally came out of their bedroom, sliding her leather jacket onto her body. Her boots clicked softly as came to the front door where her husband stood.

With a teasing grin, he raked his eyes over her body. “Ready?”

Shooting him an equally teasing smile, she faintly pressed her lips to his hairless cheek, careful not to smudge her lipstick. “Ready.”

Piling into Bob’s truck, she noted the chairs poking out from the trunk, and the cooler in the backseat. All her husband had told her was that they were going to watch a New Year’s demonstration, but that was it. She did not know how everything was going to go, but she was excited. All of the plane shows she had been to with her husband were always a good time.

The drive was short, but calming. One hand on the wheel, the other on her thigh, Robert found an incredible sense of peace driving on the ground. Up high, he was also calmed by the fact that his brain was kept super occupied by his job. But down on the ground, he loved to drive.

Before either one of them knew it, the grassy viewing field came upon them. People were already lining up their own chairs. Families, couples, groups of friends; military and civilian alike. It truly was amazing to see how many people were coming out to watch some planes fly around for half an hour.

Robert carried their chairs in one arm, the cooler in his other hand. He let his wife walk a little ahead of him to find their own spot, and boy, did she pick a good one. Slightly off center on the top of the hill, with a perfect view of the sky ahead. Popping open the chairs, she took the cooler as she sat down. Leaving Robert to sort out his own chair, Mrs. Floyd began to sort out the situation with their food and drinks.

By the time he sat down, his wife awaited with his sandwich, ready to pass over to him. As he took the wrapped sandwich, Robert leaned over and pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek.

“What did you make us?” Bob asked, beginning to unwrap his food.

“Just some cucumber ones. I’ve got deli meat in here but I needed to use those cucumbers before they went bad.” She replied, digging into her own.

They waited patiently for the show to begin, eating their food and taking sips of that amazing sweet tea that she made. For their wedding, Robert’s mom gifted the new bride all of the Floyd family recipes. It was something that he never expected as his mother kept those secrets guarded very closely. However, as this was the first marriage into the family for their generation, she felt it was time to pass them on. Which meant that, occasionally, his wife would bust out these old family recipes and totally blow his mind.

Checkin the time on his watch, he got excited. Just fifteen minutes till the show started. Digging around in the cooler, Bob found his favorite bag of chips awaiting him. Just one of the many reasons that he loved the woman beside him.

In absolutely no time at all, he heard the familiar sound of jets firing up, and set down everything in his hands so that they would not spill. Robert was practically vibrating in his seat as he waited for the planes to take flight.

“You good there, Robby?” Hs wife asked, chuckling a bit at her husband’s demeanor.

“Just ready for this. I remember going to Smyrna, Tennessee one time to watch the blue angels train and put on a show since it was only about an hour from where we were in Kentucky.” He explained, a soft grin overtaking his face.

“Robby, I love the fact that you get excited. Don’t think anything different.” Placing her hand on his arm, she was rewarded with a soft kiss pressed to her knuckles.

“It’s starting.” He whispered, eyes skyward.

Watching intensely, Bob was totally enraptured with the visuals before him. They always did this on New Year’s Eve. Coming to watch the air show was something he looked forward to, even before he got married. Robert was a little worried that when they started dating, that she would think it was stupid to come and watch this every December 31st. Thankfully, she was just as excited to come watch it as he was.

It was something that they both shared; a deep love of aircraft’s. Which made sense seeing as she had fallen in love with the glasses-wearing WSO. But as they watched the show, she would occasionally drift her gaze over to her husband. She enjoyed seeing the child-like wonder behind the lenses he wore. Turning back, she rested her head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as she did. Exhaling, that was when she realized that there was no other place she would rather be on New Year’s Eve.

[sanjoongie]

I can see you through a window (and tears stream down my face)

🏰title exchange collab, title given by @daemour (she wanted to know if I wanted an Ao3 type title and i thought why not meet a challenge 🤣)

↝Topaz to Flurry↝ Lace and Chains

↝Flurry to Isa↝ A Hundred No's

↝Isa to Dae↝ I wish you Roses

🏰Pairing: { Savior! Knight! Jeong Yunho x Cursed! Princess! Reader (f) } Editor! Yunho x Author! Reader ft {Bunny/Noble! Seonghwa and Dog/Guard! Yeosang} Publicist! Seonghwa and Agent! Yeosang ft ft Editor's Assistant! Wooyoung and Romance Novel Model! Hongjoong

🏰Au: Fantasy, Fairytale, Office, Publishing Company, Non-idol

🏰Trope: destined lovers, one-sided love, office romance

🏰Genre: fluff, romance, ANGST

🏰Warnings: mental cheating, betrayal, mentions of killing/murder

🏰Rating: 18+, MDNI (this piece has no smut or described violence)

🏰Word Count: 7,553 (apologies the fairy tale got away from me)

🏰Summary: You're in love with your editor, who is a married man and entertains, if not encourages, your adoration. But your heart can only take so much pining. So you decide your next book would help you work through some of your current to-date issues. Are you strong enough to break away or will your editor continue to lead you by your nose?

🏰Author's Note: this story is told by a back and forth method. The author and the editor are the real life part and the author is coming to terms with her situation and feelings through her writing. I hope I made it easy to follow 💞

🏰Beta readers: @downtoamagicalland

🏰divider by @cafekitsune

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔘𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔄 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢…

…there was a princess. She wasn't spoiled or rotten to the core. Bad things simply happen to good people. So she was cursed; cursed to live in a villa, away from her family and kingdom, away from everyone.

The princess didn't see it as a curse, however. She had her books and her loyal servants who raised her. She had a loyal hound and gentle bunny to keep her company.

But best of all, she had her imagination.

The bunny was her gentile courtier companion who danced with her and scolded her when she didn’t sit properly in her dress. Her hound was her steadfast knight who protected her while awake or sleeping. There were no bounds to her endless stories. She was content.

That was, until, an actual hero showed up.

🏰🏰🏰

“Princess!” One of the maid’s yelled, her skirts pulled high so she could run. “There is a visitor!”

Your head snapped upwards, in the middle of penning one of your daydreams. “What did you say?”

“A visitor!” The maid collapsed, hands braced on knees.

You eyed her suspiciously. “You can’t be serious.”

The maid gulped in air and sent you an incredulous look. “Do you really think… I’d run like that… for make believe?!”

She had a point.

You stood up and smoothed your skirts over your stomach subconsciously. You had never had to dress or prepare for a visitor before because there were never supposed to be any visitors.

“Does Cook know?” You asked.

The maid shook her head. “No, I came straight to you.”

You stepped quickly, gripping the maid’s arm. “Speak to cook. If it’s a visitor and from what I’ve learned about the lands around this villa, they’ll need good, hearty food. None of those frou-frou cucumber sandwiches she serves for late tea.”

The maid moved to run to the cook but you stopped her. “Then prepare the Ariel room to receive him. I’ll be there post-haste.”

The maid paused her panting, eying you up. “Where are you off to?”

“To appear as a princess,” You replied solidly.

You put on your dress that screamed princess to you. It was a lovely pastel color against your skin. It flowed around your hand-sewn pearl slippers. You felt… pretty. Isn’t that what the story books said all princesses were?

The visitor was sitting at one of the tables set by the tall windows in the Ariel room. One foot was cast outwards, as if he was lounging for a brief respite. The ray of sun hit him just perfectly so that you felt like you were the one stumbling upon the sleeping princess, instead of him.

“Sir…?” You coughed politely in order to draw his attention to yourself.

The visitor stood up. He was taller than his lanky form appeared sitting down. You curtsied nonetheless and he bowed deeply, sweeping an arm around his stomach. “Princess?”

You wanted to maintain decorum but your inquisitive mind got the better of you. “How did you get here? Is there an evil vine forest surrounding the grounds? Did you have to fight any goblins and/or ogres?”

The knight laughed, brightening up his face. “I can tell you all of my adventures. But first!” He stood up and shook his hair out of his face. “I need to do one thing.”

The visitor's long legs brought him quickly to your side and your heart picked up speed. “Kisses usually break the curse do they not?” He said in a low tone that made you feel light and heavy at the same time.

His hands crept along your jaw and cheeks, looking to hold you in place as his eyes became hooded. “May I bestow a kiss upon thy lips?” The knight asked.

“Should I not know your name first, kind knight?” You squeaked.

“Jeong Yunho, at your service, Princess.”

You swallowed loudly. Why did his polite words sound like there was another meaning under them?

“You may proceed,” You said with as much neutrality as you could muster.

You closed your eyes and parted your lips. How would your first kiss--

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knight looked around, annoyed at the interruption. You stomped your foot in annoyance as well. “What is it, goddamn, how am I supposed to finish this book if I cannot have a moment's peace?!”

The beautiful scene from the lovely Ariel room melted away and you were back in your office. You slammed your laptop down in frustration.

“What is it, goddamn, how am I supposed to finish this book if I cannot have a moment's peace?!” You demanded.

The same face that the prince in your novel wore stuck itself between the door and the door frame. “It's just me, checking to see how you're doing.”

Having Yunho as your editor was a pain in your behind. Not only was he extremely attractive, his work ethic was only outshined by his kind heart. He was the epitome of lead by example. In a word: he was perfect.

And perfectly off the market too.

“I am fine. I'm in the middle of the prince about to sweep the princess in the curse breaking kiss,” You grumbled.

Yunho pushed his way into your office and sat down on the chair across from you. Just like the prince, his lanky form could barely fit in the cramped place. He picked up a book you had for research. “The round table huh?” He began to rifle through the pages. “I don't suppose there's any good smut in here, huh?”

“Yunho, you know how much I love you, but that's not helping,” You sighed.

“Oh, I know,” Yunho winked.

An ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach threatened to burst. He didn't really mean that. He was referring to how you were famously a prickly author and only Yunho had managed to soothe down your hissy cat mood swings and get you to write best sellers.

“Are you sure starting with a kiss straight out the gate is a good idea?” You ventured for a moment. “Don't people usually want a slow burn or a build up?”

Yunho pretended to think about it, putting your King Arthur book right where he had plucked it from your mess of a desk. “I think that it's a hook that will surprise people and leave them wanting more.”

You let out a sigh of relief and then made a shooing motion. “I'm in the zone. Get out of here so I can continue my money making work.”

“I was just about to head out with Ella for dinner. I just wanted to check in and make sure you were good for the night. Did you want me to get--”

You pasted on a tight smile. Perhaps if Mr. Perfect stopped acting like the nation's boyfriend, you could kill this crush and stop writing him as the main romance lead in all your books. “No more interruptions, please.”

Yunho sent you a jaunty salute and then stood up. “Remember to eat before it gets too late.”

When he was gone, you threw a pen across the room in a temporary tantrum. This was a nightmare. Sure, it fueled you creatively but you weren’t entirely sure how much longer you could do this mentally.

You turned your head so you could crack your neck and then you opened your laptop. Your book wasn’t going to write itself. Perhaps you could finish it and then consider your contract with Aurora Publishing.

Your office misted away until in your mind’s eye you pictured the Ariel room once more. The sun shined through and Yunho was cupping your face once again.

Except you couldn't deny the pang of one-sided love that echoed in your heart at that moment. You put a hand on Yunho’s chest and gently pushed him away. “No, sir knight, I’ve changed my mind. A kiss must always be earned. A pointless one with no meaning would simply be just a kiss.”

Yunho let go of you and scratched the back of his head. The tips of his ears became pink. “How right you are, Princess.”

You moved gracefully to the table where Yunho had previously been sitting and patted the chair beside you. “Would you still tell me of your travels? How did you come to hear of my curse in the first place? Why are you even here?!”

Yunho ducked his head graciously and sat back at the table beside you. “Your sister hired me. Everyone seems to have forgotten about you except for her. Even I must admit, I thought I was chasing a wild goose. I’m just as surprised as you are to be here.”

“My sister?” You brightened up.

Your younger sister had been the one companion you could never replace. You missed spinning tales for her to sigh happily about.

Yunho nodded eagerly. “She’s quite the sorceress now. Secretly, of course, considering magic is the reason you’re here now.”

The knight reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out a ring, a lilac colored stone cut into the shape of a heart. “She gave me this. If you put it on, you should be able to follow me out of the villa.”

Your eyes widened and you reached out for the ring hesitantly. Leave behind your life behind these walls and go back to your old life? But what about the servants who had dedicated their lives to your wellbeing? Would they be stuck here no without a purpose?

“I…” You dropped your hand into your lap before you could touch the ring.

Yunho quickly tucked it back into the pouch he had pulled it from. “You need some time to think about changing your life. I understand completely.”

“Could you…” You hesitated but you couldn't deny what else your heart wanted. “Could you tell me about my home?”

Yunho nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”

🏰🏰🏰

“I don’t know why you don’t just fuck someone else and get it out of your system,” One of your friends shrugged, popping a piece of donut in their mouth.

“I don’t want to fuck someone else,” You grumbled under your breath.

“Well maybe you should,” Your friend pushed. “What if it helps you see that you don’t really want Yunho, you’ve just allowed yourself to obsess over him?”

Your friend wasn’t exactly talking shit, even though on a surface level it sounded like she just wanted you to hook up and get over it.

You took a sip of your coffee and contemplated it. On the one hand, you appreciated Yunho being so hands on with you. It really showed that he gave a crap, and that was your problem with your last publishing house. But on the other hand, you had not drawn a line so you and Yunho were stuck in some kind of weird quicksand of grey area that sucked you in.

You sighed and slumped onto the table. “Maybe I should just leave. Cut ties from him completely.”

“Uhhh, maybe--”

“No, I think you’re right,” You cut your friend off. “I need to stop allowing myself to obsess over him. I’ve taken it too far. He can’t be blamed for just being himself. Maybe I’ll go back to being a freelancer. I’m popular enough I’d probably get a following publishing digitally on my own. Less stress, keep my own schedule--”

Your friend grabbed your shoulder and shook you aggressively. “Now is really not the time,” they hissed at you.

“Why not?” You shouted, sitting up and then it hit you.

There was Yunho, a tray of coffees in one hand and a handful of bags in another. With him was his assistant, Wooyoung. Yunho had a hesitant and awkward smile on his face. If looks could kill, the one Wooyoung was sending you right now would have lasered a hole in your head. Shit.

“Take this back to the office,” Yunho said resolutely, pushing everything into Wooyoung’s hands, despite the assistant opening and closing his mouth in protest.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Your friend stood up and dashed out of the coffee shop pretty quickly.

Wooyoung sent a hand gesture and mouthed “I’m watching you” but left with everything Yunho had handed you.

Yunho sat down, hands in his pockets casually. “Why didn’t you say something about wanting to leave?”

“I was just… thinking out loud.” You waved your hand in front of you like you were dismissing the words from the air. “It didn’t mean anything.”

Yunho pursed his lips to one side. “Also, who are you obsessed with that makes you want to leave?”

You shut down immediately. “None of your fucking business, Yunho.”

Yunho sat back as if you had physically slapped him. “Seriously? We’ve been friends for years. I’m more than your editor!” he protested.

“Maybe that’s a problem,” You grumbled under your breath.

Yunho pulled his hands from his pockets and shot across the table, taking yours into his own. “What’s wrong with you? Is it the book? I thought you were excited to start it? Do you need a break? I can pull up the contract, see what I can do before we get too far down the pipeline.”

You stared down at the hands that encompassed yours. There he was, doing it again. Were you making things to be more than they were because you felt some kind of way for Yunho? Or was he seriously acting more than just a friend?

You gently pulled your hands out of Yunho’s. “It's not the book,” and you left it at that.

Yunho still wasn’t going to give up, however. He moved his chair until he was beside you and not across from you. “Then how can I help?”

“I don’t--” You let out a little noise of frustration. “Yunho, I was just venting to a friend. If you had left with Wooyoung, that would have been amazing help.”

Yunho frowned at you. “I don’t understand.”

You began to rub your eyebrow, a tick of yours that you couldn't seem to ditch. “How about we just forget this whole thing happened. How about that?”

Yunho wiped a hand over his face. A very large hand. One that you had used in your stories time and time again-- you shook your head. This madness had to stop.

“Let's just go back to the office, yeah? Did you buy everyone drinks and snacks? What a nice man in power,” You simpered.

Yunho sent you a look that spoke of how he didn't believe your change of attitude but he was a good man--so he'd follow your lead.

Yunho got up from his chair and waved his arm out towards the door. “After you.”

🏰🏰🏰

“Oh, Your Highness.”

The maid you were speaking with had tears filling up her eyes. “We are here to serve you. If you have the chance to be free of this place, then you must take it. We are here because the crown has directed us to take care of you. But we are not trapped. You know this, otherwise how else would we be able to supply you with your clothes as you grew or baked cakes with sugar that we can’t grow here.”

You felt your own eyes fill with tears in response. You had accepted your curse long ago, when you had let go of any hope as a child of breaking it upon turning into an adult. The fact that this opportunity had stumbled its way into your life was beyond your wildest dreams. And it came with a knight to boot.

So you gathered your hound, and held your bunny on your lap and called Yunho to the Rapunzel room. You were ready to start your own adventure.

“Now, who are these fine fellows?” Yunho inquired, lifting his hand to pet your hound.

The dog raised his hackles, growling softly. He’d never snap but he was sure letting Yunho know that the pet was not appreciated.

You laughed softly. “His name is Yeosang. He is my fiercest protector. He’s not a lapdog like I have read other princesses are gifted with.”

You lifted up your bunny from under his front legs. “And this is Seonghwa. He is a noble within my court.”

Yunho bowed at the waist, acknowledging both of your companions. “Do you intend to take them both with us?”

“They would never forgive me if I let the servants take them,” You admitted.

Yunho nodded as if he completely understood. “Of course. I will look over them as if they were my own page and charge.”

Yunho explained to you about the perilous journey you two were about to make in order to get you home. He spoke of forests dark and deep, stretches of sands and dunes, and icy tundras. How were you supposed to pack for all of those climates? And what about food?

“It’s going to be hard, Princess,” Yunho admitted. “But if your heart is true, then, I believe we can make it. Together.”

Your heart fluttered and you pressed a hand to your chest. This was silly. You couldn't just fall in love with the first man you came across in your long, cursed life. You’d have a silly little crush and then you’d move on. You were a princess, after all! You were destined for someone of royal nature.

You bid all the staff farewell and made them promise to find you once they returned to the castle--to your home--and then began the trek with the knight, the bunny and the hound. Or rather, that’s what you imagined.

The second you passed through a door that was covered with vines, Seonghwa hopped out of the pouch you had wrapped him in. Yeosang began to bark and dove into a bush as well. You cried out in alarm, terrified that your only constant companions were fleeing you. But to your complete astonishment, they transformed into men.

“Good Morning, Princess,” a man with red-brown hair bowed to you. He had a sword strapped to his side.

You studied him, perplexed, sure that you didn’t have any guards in the villa because no one could actually come and go with the exception of the staff. But then you spotted a mark by his left eye, one that you used to kiss softly every night.

“Yeosang?!” You gasped.

“At your service,” He smiled serenely, standing up.

Another man, with long black hair, brushed leaves from his suit. “That’s my least favorite part,” he frowned.

“Seonghwa!” Yeosang scolded the other man. “Address the princess properly before you start pampering yourself.”

“Ah!” Seonghwa closed his eyes, making them scrunch up in embarrassment. “Your highness, my most humble apologies. Did you sleep well? You appear as a vision this fine morning.”

Your jaw dropped. Your hound and your bunny were actually… men!?

“What is going on here?” Yunho demanded, twisting in his horse's saddle to glare down at your comrades.

You slipped off your horse and bounded towards the two men, throwing an arm around each of them for a group hug. After you squealed in excitement, you pulled back, feeling tears in your eyes and your throat tightening. “How is this possible?”

Seonghwa teared up as well and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “Please, Princess, don’t cry. Once you start I won’t be able to stop.”

Yeosang’s voice sounded gruff. “We were sent by a good sorceress who heard of your plight. We had to go undercover as animals of course, but did you really think that you would be banished without protectors?”

“Although I’m very happy to be accompanying you back to the castle, I will miss our make believe tea parties,” Seonghwa touched his handkerchief to his eyes, dabbing the tears away.

Yeosang laughed. “Don’t mind Seonghwa. He always gets emotional at the slightest things.”

Yunho was off his horse too now and coming closer with his face full of anger. “We did not plan for this! You’ll slow us down without horses, not to mention dwindle our small supplies!”

Seonghwa stood his full height, which wasn’t as tall as Yunho, but almost. “We can change back into our forms willingly now that we are outside of the villa’s magic. And you won’t be going anywhere with the princess without us.”

You put a hand on Yunho’s arm. “Yunho, remember your vow? You said you’d look over them.”

Yunho relented slowly, breathing in and out deeply. “I did. And I’m a man of my word. Very well. We shouldn’t let our first day be slow, however. Back to your other forms then.”

Seonghwa lifted his hand as if he was going to hit Yunho behind his back and you couldn't help but giggle. He was very much the sassy bunny you grew up with.

“I’ll maintain the rear. Nothing shall get past me, Princess,” Yeosang proclaimed, pulling at the ends of his gloves.

“Careful of my ears,” Seonghwa pouted slightly. “They’re very sensitive this time of year.”

“Oh, Seonghwa,” You smiled, happy to finally be able to speak with your friends.

🏰🏰🏰

“Ugh, I’m exhausted!” Seonghwa announced, falling over your desk and interrupting your writing.

“Awe, did your yapping zap all your energy?” You cooed mockingly at your publicist.

Seonghwa sat up, lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unimpressed by your response. “A thank you would be nice.”

You rolled your eyes. “What did you get done today?”

Seonghwa brightened, happy to be able to chatter away about his job. He was one of the two people you had taken over with you when you left your last publishing house and signed a contract with Yunho’s. He could be a pain in your butt sometimes but Seonghwa really knew how to sell your books.

“You’ll never guess who I convinced to be the model for the cover of this book!” Yeosang bursted into your office.

“Jesus, Yeosang,” You held your hand against your chest.

“Knocking would be a lot less heart-pumping!” Seonghwa scolded Yeosang as well.

Your publicist and your agent were long time friends, your power team who always supported you. They bickered but mostly they were joined together in supporting you.

“Guess!” Yeosang pushed, sweeping around your desk and crouched beside you, phone at the ready.

You blinked blankly and then it came to you. “No fucking way.”

“That’s right.” Yeosang stood up, unlocked his phone and showed you his email. “Kim fucking Hongjoong.”

“What?!” Seonghwa looked from you to Yeosang, eyes darting quickly. “How did that happen?”

“Well, our friend here said she wanted something different for this book…” Yeosang and Seonghwa exchanged a look of understanding. “So I thought, why not the biggest model for romance novels right now?”

You winced. This book was so fucking firmly Yunho in your mind, now that you’re halfway done, that you almost feel like you couldn't be happy that Yeosang had managed to snag you something so good.

But you pasted on a happy grin and hugged Yeosang. “You always fight hardest for me,” Your muffled thanks came out gruffly.

Seonghwa protested immediately. “Hey! I’m the one that’s made sure we have all the proper social media in place, including grabbing some big booktokers, but okay, let’s thank Yeosang with a hug because he got you a hot man on the front of your cover.”

You and Yeosang laughed under your breath but you released Yeosang and came over to hug Seonghwa. “Thank you, Hwa, you’re a lifesaver.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened and then he embraced you. “I just want this to be the book that gets you over him.”

You jumped out of Seonghwa’s hug immediately. “The walls have ears, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa blinked and when he looked at Yeosang for a clue, your agent shrugged his shoulders. You sighed, rubbing your eyebrow again. “Let’s just pretend that HE is always in the room and you can’t speak about him out loud, or he’ll hear.”

“Do I hear celebrating in here?” Yunho appeared in the open doorway, an inquiring smile on his lips.

“Ahhhhh,” Yeosang and Seonghwa chorused.

You put an arm around each of your team’s shoulders. “Seonghwa secured some big booktokers to review my book and Yeosang got Kim Hongjoong to model for the book cover.”

Yunho covered his mouth in shock. “Oh my god?”

If only he knew that he was the main character.

“I gotta text Ella, she’ll freak out!” Yunho shouted and then he was gone.

“Does he have your office bugged?” Yeosang said, eyes wide as he peered around said office.

“No, otherwise, he’d know everything by now,” You grumbled under your breath.

“So, how is it going?” Seonghwa inquired.

“Hmm, the book?” You tried to scrub the image of a happy Yunho from your mind. “The princess is starting to fall in love and her companions are trying to tell her that there’s something off about the knight.”

“Let me guess,” Yeosang’s tone got serious. “They’re going to tell her she needs to be careful and she’s going to tell them that they’re just jealous.”

“No.” You looked Yeosang right in the eye. “This princess is more perceptive than that. She also feels that there’s some darkness to the knight. She’s not a dumb-dumb princess. She’s read books all her life and has learned.”

“Not like some people,” Seonghwa muttered under his breath.

“There’s no saving me,” You whispered. “At least I can save her.”

🏰🏰🏰

“We’re almost there in your kingdom!” Yunho exclaimed.

The four of you stood on a high cliff that overlooked some rolling hills. Yunho pointed to the distance, where the horizon smudged into a bruised plum color.

A little thrill went through you. Would your parents cry when you returned? Would your sister still adore you as much as she had when she was a child? Would the kingdom throw a fete in your honor, that the cursed princess was back?

“You know,” Yunho pulled you in by the waist. “There’s still a chance that I could break your curse. The kiss has more meaning now.”

You pursed your lips. Yunho had been the very epitome of a gentleman. That was the problem. You may have lived a sheltered life but you knew that nothing was ever as cut and dry as a book. That’s why you liked to escape to them. There you couldn't get hurt. But here, with your life at stake! There was a huge chance that giving your heart to the knight that had rescued you could be the wrong choice.

You placed a hand on his chest and smiled. “Perhaps this fairy tale ends with the princess finally kissing her knight in shining armor,” you said instead.

Something flashed in Yunho’s eyes and it was something you had never seen there before, despite battling monsters and getting lost in the dunes. Yunho was afraid. But afraid of what? “That might be too late for you, Princess.”

Yeosang and Seonghwa interrupted with their bickering. They had been sent to get water. But they came back with a handful of flowers and berries instead.

“Really gentlemen,” You scoffed, breaking Yunho’s hold on you. “What happened to the water?”

Seonghwa smiled painfully. “We ran into some water sprites.”

Yeosang folded his arms across his chest. “Correction: YOU got distracted by a few water spirits, started flirting with them, and I had to save you.”

“Potato, potahto,” Seonghwa waved one of his hands. “We do have these though. You could make tea!”

“With what water, Seonghwa?” Yeosang deadpanned.

You fell into a fit of giggles. It was just like the time bunny Seonghwa had gotten scared of a bird landing on the iron table during a tea party, knocked over the hot tea pot, which scalded your lap, and Yeosang barked and chased Seonghwa around the garden until they both collapsed into an exhausted pile and you forgot about your pains.

“I will go and fetch us water,” Yunho grumbled, clearly unimpressed by your two favorite people in the world. “You two watch the princess, for what you’re worth.”

Seonghwa glared and Yeosang commented, “We’ve done a good job so far.”

“Yeah, behind a magical wall,” Yunho shot back, disappearing into the foliage.

“Princess,” Seonghwa began, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

“Don’t start, Seonghwa.” You put a hand up to halt whatever he was going to say. “We do need him to guide us back home. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Yeosang’s face was grim. “I’m worried he’s leading us to a trap. He’s got my hackles raised.”

You felt a shiver travel along your spine in response to Yeosang’s words. “Me too, Yeosang, me too.”

“Well.” Seonghwa busied himself with attempting to start a fire. “We do need Yunho to guide us back to the kingdom and we need to be on our guard against any trickery. What’s left to do but get ready for some tea?”

Later, when the four of you were around the fire, you brought up your family.

“Can you tell me a little bit about my sister?” You asked eagerly.

Yunho flinched and dropped the tin cup he had been drinking out of. “Huh? Your sister? Why do you want to hear about her?”

“Well, she was so young when I left. Is she still into stories? No, she’s a grown woman now, perhaps she’s heir to the throne since I was cursed?” You wondered.

“Always with the questions,” Yunho smiled, but this was tight and withheld. “Your sister was devastated when you were cursed and set away. She’s become a strong capable woman but she will be more than delighted to find that you’re back amongst us once again,” Yunho provided.

Your heart hurt a little hearing that your sister was so cut up about your banishment but that only made you more eager to get home and fix everything.

“Once I get home, it’ll be better,” You announced.

“Yes,” Yunho said, licking his lips. “I’m sure it will.”

🏰🏰🏰

The launch party for your finished book was an extravagant affair. It was a black tie dress code. Aurora Publishing booked the ballroom of a fancy hotel and had an open bar. Champagne was flowing and everyone who was anyone in the industry was there.

This book was sold, thanks to Seonghwa, as your best book yet. A shift in tone, but a delight nonetheless. Everyone wanted to laud you with congratulations and hear what you had to say about the book from your mouth. You were spinning with the amount of conversations you had had and hadn't had a moment to yourself.

“There you are!” Yunho’s voice cut through the crowd.

Your editor was dressed in a tuxedo with a cute little bowtie. He looked dashing and the cut of his suit only emphasized his broad shoulders and long form. By the time he stood toe to toe with you, you had to crane your neck to keep eye contact with him.

“Here I am,” You said sarcastically.

“You look amazing,” Yunho said, his voice quiet in awe.

You sent him a warning look. “Careful.”

A small, teasing smile pulled at Yunho’s lips. “Or?”

“Or a girl would think you’re hitting on her,” You said sourly, downing a gulp of your champagne.

“I’m simply giving credit where credit is due,” Yunho denied.

Then he took a step even closer. He leaned into you, so that his lips were level with your ear. “Did I tell you that this might be some of your best work yet?”

You felt your face and neck warm up at the compliment. Why did he have to say it like that? “Thank you, Yunho.”

Yunho leaned back, a shit-eating grin on his face full blown. “I was hoping now that you’re done with your frantic writer moment that you’d let me book you a vacation. I was thinking somewhere warm, maybe southern France?”

You sent him an odd look. There he was again, taking care of you, thinking about your needs. Your heart burst but you attempted to suffocate it anyways. “I feel like I’m gaining momentum. Maybe an anthology of books that follow the same theme as the first. Fairy tales that aren’t happy endings.”

Yunho’s hand went up, almost boxing you into the wall of the ballroom. “Tahiti then? Maybe you could do a mix up of Ariel and Moana this time. The Sleeping Beauty and Beauty and the Beast mixture was oddly compelling.”

“Yunho…” You could feel the man’s heat emanating off of him, that’s how close he was.

“I could visit you, you know? Check in on you, make sure you’ve got plenty of inspiration.” Yunho’s voice was getting deeper and more intimate.

What the hell was going on right now?

“Yunho!” Wooyoung’s screech managed to jolt Yunho out of whatever he was attempting at this very moment. “Your wife is looking for you. The company’s newsletter wants a photo op.”

Yunho smiled boyishly. “Think about it.”

You wanted to collapse to the floor but you managed to simply let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. The look on Wooyoung’s face basically screamed that you were a homewrecker. You needed some cold air.

In your rush to get outside, you passed where Yunho and his wife Ella were posing for photos. It was like staring at a car crash; you couldn't help yourself. Yunho was staring down at Ella like she was his whole world. They slowly waltzed, to seem as if they were dancing, and in their own world. His wife beamed up at him like Yunho made her unbelievably happy.

Your crush shattered into a million pieces.

You raised your skirts and began to run for the doors. Shameful tears made rivulets run down your face. You felt disgust at yourself. No matter what feelings you had for Yunho, he was married. He wasn’t yours. He could never be yours. You had deluded yourself for too long. And you let Yunho feed into those delusions. You were a fool.

It was time for you to take a page out of your own book and save yourself.

🏰🏰🏰

“The prodigal princess of Aurora returns,” Your sister announced with grandeur.

She threw open her arms wide above her head. Ella was at the top of the steps before the throne. You looked around, confused. There was no court. Your parent’s were nowhere to be seen. What was going on here?

“Ella?” You took a cautious step forward.

“Yes, it's your baby sister,” Ella smiled but it had a cruel edge to it. “Do you not recognize me? Do I seem different?” She casted her head back and cackled.

The air shimmered around her and her dress and image changed. Her entire wardrobe was black as night, with her hair twisted into two horns. She held a staff with a gem at the tip. “Take a guess as to what's different.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with both your hands. “You’re a sorceress now?”

Your sister smiled like she was the cat with the cream. “I’ve made a greater name for myself than my poor cursed sister. The entire kingdom fears me.”

You whipped around to look at Yunho. “Did you know about this?”

Ella made a happy, pleased noise. “Yes, Yunho, tell my dear sister what’s surpassed.”

Yunho’s face was cold and stoic. “Your sister sent me to get you.”

“I’m so confused,” You admitted.

Your thumb fiddled with the ring that kept your curse under wraps and had allowed you to leave the villa you were trapped in. You had to think quickly. Seonghwa and Yeosang were outside of the throne room, and had been ordered to remain there because this was family business. What could you do? You had no power or weapons. You had only your knowledge that you had absorbed while spending your life behind sheltered walls.

“Let me paint you a pretty picture,” Your sister said. “You see, when you were banished to the villa because you were cursed, I was so sad. So, secretly I found all the books I could on curses and magic. I was determined to break your curse and free you. But the more time I spent learning, the more I realized that I didn’t need you. I could amass enough power for myself and I could be the ruler. I found myself a prince charming to trick our parents into thinking i was being a filial daughter.”

Ella descended the stairs and started to curl her arms and body around Yunho like he was her possession. “Yunho’s a second son, just like I am a second daughter. We’re expendable and only there as a back up if the heir’s get killed. He decided to join my quest. I killed our parents once they realized I was planning all this treachery behind their backs. But then when the nobles wouldn’t recognize me as the true ruler, I realized I would have to kill you.”

Yunho took Ella’s hand and kissed the back. You felt a chill run down your spine. Everything Yunho had shown to you was a lie. He wasn’t the golden knight in shining armor, here to save you and steal your heart. He was a black piece on the board, meant to lure you from your safe space so that your sister could attain her dark ambitions. You felt betrayed, utterly and completely.

“I, of course, could not go myself. The villa is made to contain your blood curse, so that’s why our parents could never visit you, and I was sure it would trap me in there too. So I sent my prince charming to retrieve you. I wanted to kill you with my own hands of course. What better way to show the kingdom that I’m the queen they were meant to have than by killing you? The one that didn’t deserve her curse, the princess everyone always talked about.”

It was at that moment that you saw your little sister. The love of adoration had twisted into hatred because no one ever recognized her. You felt sadness seep through your heart. You never wanted anything but good things for your sister, no matter the fact that you were the one trapped and cursed.

Your sister saw your sadness and immediately boiled over like an angry cauldron. “Don't you dare pity me!” She screamed, pointing a finger at you. “I will kill you and be done with you.”

You sent one more look at Yunho, wondering if there was any truth to the good man who you had traveled with for weeks. Yunho couldn't meet your gaze. The coward.

It was in that moment that you decided that there was only one decision that you could make to finally be in control of your own destiny. You grabbed the ring that held back your curse and pulled it off.

“No, what are you doing?” Your sister shrieked. “Yunho, take your sword and kill her!”

The world seemed to freeze. Yunho was partway drawing his sword, your sister’s face red with anger and spewing spit. If she was so powerful, why would she be angry about you removing your ring? And why ordered Yunho to kill you when she was so excited to kill you herself?

Then it hit you.

Your curse was that you were magical. Magic was seen as a dark, twisted element in your kingdom. You had been sent to that villa because no one could bear to execute the beloved princess. You lived a normal life because magic was null on those grounds. The ring that Yunho had given you had suppressed your powers, because that was the only way your little sister could kill you. All the pieces fell into place.

You snapped your fingers and suddenly Yeosang and Seonghwa were there. The world around you three still moved slowly, simply because you wished it. Magic was evil, it was the people and their intent that dictated if it was good or evil. And you intended to do some good.

“You were my protectors from the beginning, weren’t you?”

Seonghwa’s eyes began to tear up. “Princess, you figured it out.”

“We were forced to take animal forms because of the enchantment around the villa. But we were placed in this kingdom to be your companions through your journey. You are the goddess reincarnate. Your parents feared the world would corrupt you and you would bring the end of the world. While being confined to the villa, you encountered nothing but love and you had all the time to learn and absorb stories and tales about good rulers,” Yeosang unloaded everything to you.

“You were never cursed, Princess,” Seonghwa took your hand and kissed the back of it, much like how Yunho did to your sister, but his was complete trust in that you were the right, good person in this world. “You were blessed.”

The world sped up suddenly. Your sister sent a wicked bolt of black energy at you but it glanced off a purple shield that came up in your defense. It covered both you and your companions. Yunho completed unsheathing his sword but looked hesitant. “Princess?”

You held up a hand and it began to glow with pure, golden light. “I banish thee, Ella the sorceress, and thee, Yunho the betrayer, to the villa where I grew up. No light will ever reach there, in a reflection of your dark hearts. You two deserve each other.”

“No!” screeched Ella but it was too late.

A popping noise echoed through the throne room and then they were gone.

“Now what?” Seonghwa blinked at you.

You breathed in and deeply sighed the air out. “First, see if any of my citizen’s are in the dungeons. I’m sure Ella took great pleasure in torturing the people that used to be in power. She wouldn’t have killed everyone, otherwise she wouldn’t have an audience.”

“At once, Your Majesty,” Yeosang saluted smartly, fist thumping against his chest and then he left the throne room.

“And what should I do, oh wise and beautiful Queen,” Seonghwa said with grandeur, falling to one knee.

You couldn't help but laugh through your new broken heart. Even in a serious setting, that one always found a way to make you laugh. “Why, Duke Park, I believe I need a coronation ceremony. Do you think you could find ways to get out a message that the cursed princess has reclaimed her queendom?”

Seonghwa cocked his head, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “I can plan a coronation ceremony, but you are the goddess reincarnate; whatever you think can be made real.”

You closed your eyes and imagined a glorious flowing dress of gold and a crown of flowers on your head. You connected with anyone who had ever prayed for the world to get better while being under Ella’s rule and then you were.

“Ella the Sorceress has been banished, never to return. The cursed princess is now the Queen of Aurora. You need not bend the knee to her but she would enjoy your presence for her coronation. All are welcome, poor or noble blood. I wish to simply bask in the presence of my citizens that I have missed.”

You disconnected from all those consciences but you felt your heart fill with hope. The people had hope once again in their lives and that was because of you. You hadn't needed a knight in shining armor to save you. You had saved yourself.

🏰🏰🏰

“The view is wonderful!” Seonghwa said, hands on his hips and staring out through the ceiling to floor windows.

Yeosang sent a look of disgust at Seonghwa. “Of course it’s wonderful. She needed a new start and I found the best of the best for her.”

Seonghwa turned around and he looked unsure. “Is this really what’s best for you?”

You put down a box and dusted your clothes off. “Yes. I needed a clean cut from Yunho. I appreciate everything he’s done for me but that place was not what I needed.”

Yeosang grinned. “The royalties from The Cursed Princess are rolling in and it doesn’t look to be halting anytime soon.”

Seonghwa puffed out his chest. “I told you, I worked hard for this novel. The booktokers love it.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes. “They love it because of the esteemed author in the room, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa pouted. “Yes, but I guided them to the great book. Come on, Yeosang, give me this at least.”

“I’ll give you something,” Yeosang grumbled and put Seonghwa in a headlock.

You could hear grunts under Yeosang’s breath about ‘entitled shit’ and Seonghwa whining about unfair arm strength advantage and you started to laugh.

Maybe you didn’t need a grand life to keep you inspired. Maybe you simply needed to live your life, free of anything holding you down or keeping you in one lane. Sure, having Seonghwa and Yeosang as your support was going to help, but at the end of the day, it was up to you to save yourself.

And you had managed just that. Everything was going just fine. You only had to put your mind to the task and it would get done.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕰𝖓𝖉

[duckprintspress]

“A Truth Universally Acknowledged”: Four, Four Teaser Posts!

A Truth Universally Acknowledged: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” is 80% funded! With 8 days to go! We’re really on a roll, and we’d love to keep that going to reach our goal early and maybe get to a stretch goal or two. Stretch goals are great for us, because they primarily are designed to enable us to raise the pay of our contributors!

In case you were wondering, there’ll be five more of these teaser posts after this one – so we’re almost halfway through the teasers. A lot of contributors means a lot of posts!

Story Teaser: Mikki Madison

Title: The Magnificent Mr. Markham

Excerpt:

“Why, Mr. Markham! How lovely to see you here!”

Mary swallowed a screech and spun to face her accuser. Georgiana lounged in the plush chair by the window in a most unladylike manner, her legs kicked over one of the arms while she leaned against the other.

“What are you doing in my room?” Mary demanded.

“You didn’t want to talk at the party, so I thought I would wait until we were somewhere you might be more amenable.” Georgiana gestured to the room. “Somewhere we won’t be overheard, for example.”

Art Teaser: Zel Howland

Zel is the creator of the spectacular art for the enormous folding fan we’re offering as a bonus! Here’s a bigger version so you can see some of the amazing details:

Zel has also contributed two pieces to the book! We’re only doing one teaser for artists who contributed multiple artworks, so you’ll have to wait to get a glimpse of the other.

Title: A Stolen Moment

Author Teaser: Lucy K. R.

Title: To Her the Pride

Excerpt:

“You could be so pretty!” Annabell offered during one of their small-group tea party practices. “I can bring my hair straightener tomorrow.”

“You’re not touching my hair,” Mia responded, pushing her untouched teacup away.

“Be polite,” Paige warned past her discomfort, glancing toward the prowling Mrs. Morrow.

“Why?” Mia demanded in return, turning those sharp eyes on her. “I asked Mrs. Morrow what it was for the other day, and you know what she said? ‘To make things simpler for people.’ So I said: ‘For who? It’s not simpler for me. Why should I make things harder for myself so other people can take it easy?’ and she didn’t have an answer for that. She just made me go to the reflection corner.”

“…did you reflect on it?” Paige asked, so mortified that she was in danger of getting sandwich crumbs on her dress from how her hand was shaking, but she was fascinated in equal measure.

“Yeah,” Mia allowed with a shrug. “I decided I was right.”

Paige had gone home that day with a spot on her lap from the cucumber slice that had dropped from her sandwich.

Art Teaser: Elizabeth Rose

Title: A Handsome Face

Story Teaser: Shea Sullivan

Title: A Constant, Fearful Longing

Excerpt:

“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” Georgiana asked with a cautious smile.

“Oh, I’m afraid of all sorts of things,” Lizzy said. Everything inside her churned restlessly. “But I’m not afraid of you.” She looked up at the stars and picked out the shapes that Georgiana had pointed out to her, and then the ones they had made up together in summers past.

She feared finding Pemberley deserted, of losing the truest friend she had ever been lucky enough to find. She had never felt so strongly with Charlotte, or even Jane. No other person had provoked in her such a constant, fearful longing.

A claustrophobic grief gripped her suddenly, that losing Georgiana was inevitable—if not to a riot of terrified townspeople, or to her imminent departure, then merely to the steady march of time.

“Whatever would I do without you?” she asked quietly.

You’ve reached the end of the post! Now check out the campaign to learn about all our contributors and offerings!

[valentoru]

|| Limitless ||

[CHAPTER 13]

SYNOPSIS: Gojo Satoru, a big time artist, who’s known for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake wherever he goes. And you, the lead guitarist of an upcoming band, who’s absolutely certain that no one will ever love you. Through an accident in which you happened to kiss Gojo in a frantic state, you both decide, via convenience alone—and zero regard for both of your managers—to pull a fake dating stunt what could go wrong? Any press is good press…right?

PREVIOUS : MASTERLIST : NEXT

After the talk, you considered staying to talk to Geto but decided the ass-kissing could wait. So you said goodbye to Satoru and waited for Maki to wake up from her nap while contemplating drawing a dick on her face, then slowly heading with her to the recording booth.

When she finally woke up, you guys decided to go to get some food. You headed down into the lobby.

“So have a seminar to talk about Women in our industry, you know, since it’s overpowered with…penis. I’m also doing a few pop up events! And I wasn’t even the one who reached out first, it was the events that reached out to me.”

“Maki, this is amazing. You are amazing.”

“I know.” Maki winked, sliding her arm through yours. “What’s going on there?”

You squinted against the sun. The parking lot of the building was jammed with traffic. People blowing their horns and getting out of their cars, trying to figure out the source of the holdup. You and Maki walked around a line of vehicles stuck in the lot, until you ran into a group of people.

“Someone’s battery died, and it’s blocking the exit line.” Someone, you weren’t sure who, said, some rolling their eyes, some bounding impatiently on their feet. One pointed at a red truck stuck sideways in the most inconvenient turn.

You recognised it as Nathan’s, the other receptionist.

“I pitch tomorrow—i need to go home to prepare. And why the fuck is Nathan just stood there leisurely talking with Gojo? Do they want us to bring them tea and cucumber sandwiches?”

You looked around, searching for Satoru’s tall frame and blinding hair.

“Oh yeah. There’s Gojo,” Maki said. You looked back where she was pointing, just in time to see Nathan get back behind the wheel and Satoru jogging around the truck.

“What is he—” was all you managed to say, before he came to a stop, put his hands on the back of the truck, in neutral, and started…

Pushing.

His shoulders strained his shirt. The firm muscles of his upper back visibly shifted and tended under the black fabric as he bent forward and rolled several tons of truck across…quite a bit of distance into the closest empty parking space.

Oh.

There was some applause and whistling from bystanders when the truck was out of the way, and a coup of people clapped him and some shouted as the line of cars started moving out of the lot.

“Fucking finally,” you heard one of them say from behind you, and you stood there, blinking, a little shocked. Had you imagined it? Had Satoru really just pushed a giant truck all by himself? Was he an alien from planet Krypton who moonlighted as a superhero?

“N/N go give him a kiss.”

You whirled around, abruptly reminded of Maki’s existence. “What? No. No. I’m good. I just said goodbye to him a minute ago and—”

“N/N why don’t you want to kiss your boyfriend?”

Ugh. “I…it’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”

“Dude, he just moved a truck. By himself. On uphill ground. He deserves a damn kiss.” Maki shoved you and made a shooing motion.

You clenched your teeth and headed in Satoru’s direction. Wishing you’d gone ahead and drawn twenty dicks all over Maki’s face. Maybe she did suspect that you were faking your relationship with Satoru. Or maybe she just got a kick out of pressuring you into PDA’ing, that ingrate. Either way, if this was why one got for masterminding and intricate fake-dating scheme that was supposed to benefit a friends love life, then maybe—

You halted abruptly.

Satoru’s head was bent forward, white hair covering his forehead as he wiped the sweat from his eyes with the hem of his shirt. It left a broad strip of flesh visible on his torso, and—it was nothing indecent, really, nothing unusual, just some fit guys midriff, but for some reason you could help staring at Satoru Gojo’s uncovered skin like it was a slab of Italian marble and—

“Y/N?” He said, and you immediately averted your eyes. Crap, he’d totally caught your staring. First you’d forced him to kiss you, now your were ogling him like some perv in the parking lot and—

“Did you need anything?”

“No I…” you felt your cheeks go crimson.

His skin, too, was flushed from the effort of pushing, and his eyes were bright and clear, and he seemed…well, at least he didn’t seem unhappy to see you.

“Maki sent me to give you a kiss.”

He froze half way through wiping his hands on his shirt. And then his said. “Ah.” In his usual natural, unreadable tone.

“Because you moved the truck. I—I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know. But I didn’t want her to get suspicious, and there are workers here too maybe they’ll tell the chair and it will be two birds with one stone and I can leave if you—”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Breathe.”

Right. Yes. Good suggestion. You did breath and the action made you realise you hadn’t done that in a while which in turn made you smile up at Satoru—who did his mouth twitch thing back at you. You were really starting to get used to him. To his size, his distinctive way of being in the same space as you.

You squirmed. “So…should we hug or something?”

“Oh.” Satoru looks at his hands and down at himself. “I don’t think you want to do that. I’m pretty gross.”

Before you could stop yourself you studied him from head to toe, taking in his body, his broad shoulders the way his hair was curling around his ears. He didn’t look gross. Not even to you, who was usually not a fan of dudes or dating or any of this.

Not gross.

“Should we just kiss?” You widened your eyes, you’d clearly caught him off guard too, you could tell by the way his expression tightened ever so slightly.

“If you think that…if your friend is watching.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “But we don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Unless you do want to.” Your palms felt damp.and clammy so you surreptitiously wiped them on your pants. “And by “want to” I mean if you think it’s a good idea.” It was so not a good idea. It was a horrible idea. Like all your ideas.

“Right.” He looked past you and toward Maki who was probably in the middle of making an entire Instagram Story on you. Or live tweeting this whole event. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.”

He stepped a little closer, and really, he was not gross. How someone this sweaty, someone who’s just pushed a truck, still managed to smell good was a topic worth of a Ph.D dissertation for sure. Earths finest scientist should have been hard at work on this.

“Why don’t I…” you inched into him slightly, and after letting your hand hover for a moment you rested it on Satoru’s shoulder. You pushed yourself up in your toes angling your head up toward him. It helped very little, as your were still not tall enough to reach his mouth, so you tried to get more leverage by tipping your hand on his arm, and immediately realised you were basically using him. Which was the exact things he asked you not to do a second ago. Crap.

“Sorry, too close? I didn’t mean to—”

You would have finished the sentence if he hadn’t closed the distance between then and just—kissed you. Just like that.

You had kissed. You had kissed—twice now. Twice. Not that it mattered no one cared. But twice. Plus the lap. Earlier today. Again not that it mattered.

“I’ll see you around right? Next week?”

He lifted his fingers to his lips, then let his arm drop his side. “Yes. On Thursday.”

It was Monday now. Which meant you were going to see each other in 3 days. Which was fine, no matter when or how often you met— “yep see you Thurs—Hey, what about the picnic?”

“The—oh.” He rolled his eyes looking a little more like himself. “Right. That fu—” he stopped short. “That picnic.”

You grinned. “It’s tomorrow.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“You’re still going?”

He gave you a look that clearly stated; it not like I have a choice even thought I’d rather had my nails extracted one by one. With pliers.

You laughed. “Well. I’m going, too.”

“At least there’s that.”

“Are you taking Geto?”

“Probably. He actually likes people.”

“Okay. I can kiss ass a little bit. And you and I can show off how dearly and committed we are to the chair. You’ll look like a wingless bird. No flight risk whatsoever”

“Perfect. I’ll bring a counterfeit marriage license to casually drop at his feet.”

You laughed and waved goodbye then jogged up to Maki.

TAGLIST(33/50): @bbmsxlene @lunavelha @satoryaa @tranzumaki @k-kkiana @luvkvni @lysaray @kalulakunundrum @arysbruv @r4veeen @stillnotherapy @catobsessedlady @colortheoryrocks @minzxec @dazqa @packsvlog @luvvmae @simplysm1le @mintfyi @fushigurosgirl @littlecritteryay @fackeraccount @astro-stars @lavender-hvze @miizuzu @rayrayline @kanaojacksonofc @letsmyy @serenadesvt @art-n-rot @aastrobliss @herdemisee @tikideedee

AN:

As I write this authors note I am listening to “it wasn’t me” by shaggy.

Please can you guys like blow up my inbox or smth this acc is so dead when im not uploading a limitless chapter 🙁

© valentoru all rights reserved- do not publish my work on other platforms, plagiarise or translate.

[frodothefair]

Dear Sam,

I’m having some friends over. How can I make them feel welcome? And, most importantly, what should I serve for lunch?

Thanks,

DF

💐 Sam’s Birthday Q and A 💐

“Well, hello, Ms. DF, and I apologize heartily for the delay. I am still sortin’ through my correspondence from the day, if you understand me. 

“At any rate, when it comes to entertainin’, I think it is best to do what comes from the heart, if you get my meaning. A cozy fireplace, if you happen to have one, or if you don’t, a clean, well-lighted home never fails to make for a cheerful mood, and plenty of places to sit are equally important, with cushions and blankets and places to put your feet up to spare. There’s nothing worse than not havin’ enough chairs for everyone to sit together, or feeling cold, or sittin’ in the dark, so I would always have plenty of logs or candles waitin’, in case the evening runs long.

“And as for the food? Well, I’ll say this. I would make something you already know how to make, a recipe that’s tried and true, if you understand me. One time, when we were first married and finally had a hobbit hole of our own*, Rosie was so keen on having her friends and family over, and to entertain like a proper mistress of the house, that she made all these grand plans as to what to make and how to serve it, and it ended with her sobbing in the middle of the kitchen floor, and not havin’ enough creamy cheese spread for the cucumber sandwiches, and the stew overflowin’ in the pot, if you understand me. So lesson learned, I suppose — when it comes to entertainin’, makin’ grand plans and tryin’ to impress everyone isn’t always the thing. Just make what you know how to make, even if it’s plain, and have the tea and the ale flowin’ freely, dependin’ on your persuasion, and good stories and good cheer will take care of the rest. 

“I don’t know, does that help? Everyone always seems to think I’m good for advice, but I’m really not. I just say whatever comes to mind, and I’m still not good at sayin’ what I mean half the time, if you get my meanin’.”

(*In The Flowers of Mordor, Sam and Rosie never lived with Frodo at Bag End, but Frodo did give them some money to build their own, new hobbit hole).

[piedpiperart]

Phantom in Gotham pt 2

Chapter one

The next week, Tim asked Dick for advice about Danny. 

"And he's your age?" Dick frowned, leaning forward on the living room couch to rest his elbows on his knees. He had ha;f a cucumber sandwich in his hand, courtesy of Alfred. Meanwhile Tim was sipping his fourth coffee for the day. 

"Yeah," Tim sighed,"I'm just worried about him. He doesn't look like he's eating or sleeping very much, and I don't know. I just want to make sure he's safe at home or something. He’s actually really smart and funny too, I think you’d like him. I just don’t want to freak him out in case Batman hears about this and decides ‘Bruce’ needs to get involved, you know?"

Dick hummed, ruffling Tim's hair. His little brother was so caring, he cooed in his head. "I'll check it out. You said he goes to the library after school a lot of the time?" 

Tim nodded. "Steph and I may have followed him once or twice. I asked Barbara if she'd seen him, and apparently he goes to the library after school every day. He does his homework and then usually falls asleep until closing at seven."

Dick frowned at that. It was becoming more obvious that the kid was not in a good situation, or at the least was avoiding home. "I'll tail him when he leaves the library,"Dick reassured. "I know you're busy with the whole ghost stuff going on."

"Thanks,"Tim sighed. He also didn't want to have Danny recognize him somehow as Red Robin. It was unlikely, but not impossible. Plus, getting Dick to look into it would just give him more people on the 'Protect Danny' team. Tim was obviously president, with Steph as Co-president. With Dick on their side they’d be able to gang up on Bruce to get the kid adopted if everything turned out the way he thought it would. Of course, Tim knew it was probably unlikely, but he had to admit someone else in the family that was his age and didn’t want to kill him would be nice. 

“You really care about him, huh?” Dick said suddenly. 

“Uh, yeah?” Tim said, tilting his head to look at Dick. “He’s only been at school a month or so but he hangs out with Steph and I every day. He’s really into space, and super smart, like I’m pretty sure he’s a genius at physics and engineering.” Tim sut his rambling off, feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment. Surely Dick didn’t need to know Danny’s hobbies. 

“Just a friend?” Dick hummed. Tim narrowed his eyes at Dick’s suddenly mischievous attitude. 

“Yeah?” Tim said hesitantly. “”Why?”

“Oh, nothing,”Dick smiled, getting up from the couch to bring his plate to the kitchen.

“Wait no- Dick what do you mean?” Tim stammered, putting his coffee down to follow. “Dick!”

-------------------------------------------

Dick had called Barbara about Tim's friend, and even the red haired vigilante was worried about the poor kid. Apparently he was there every night, and Babs was just about to contact him to do something about him. Dick didn't understand what she meant by the ‘new little brother’ joke she'd made until he laid eyes on the kid. He’d nearly laughed when he caught sight of the black hair and blue eyes. Maybe Tim wanted another sibling, one that wouldn't stab or shoot him, Dick mused. 

Still, he followed the kid to a convenience store, frowning at the kid's yawn. If the apparent lack of sleep was worrying, the fact that the kid only got a bag of cheetos and a can of strawberry tea was even more concerning. Still, Dick hopped the roofs from afar, hoping the kid would at least have someone home to look out for him.

Dick's hopes were dashed when the kid made his way further towards Crime Alley. 

Ignoring the fact that he was potentially infringing on Jason's territory, Nightwing perched on a building across from the old pizzeria, watching the kid skillfully climb the fence around the place with a sinking feeling. Dick sighed. So, apparently Danny was living in the abandoned pizzeria. Great. Jason would definitely want to know about this.  

Dick's heart ached for the kid. He hoped Danny was finding ways to get food that wouldn't get him in trouble. Considering that he was still able to afford a spot at Gotham Academy, it seemed he had some sort of savings. Just, maybe not for things outside of school.  Dick frowned. How that worked he wasn’t so sure. The school would have to know those things, right? If he was living like that, then how could he be going to such a rich school?

Dick sat back further on the roof, making a note to look into Danny’s spot at the school when he heard heavy footsteps land on the roof. However, Dick's eyes were still on the Pizzeria, hoping that Danny didn't actually live there despite the overwhelming amount of evidence pointing to the contrary. Maybe the kid was passing through. Or it was a clubhouse of sorts. 

"Wing," Red Hood grumbled, coming to a stop a few feet away. "Whatcha doin' here?"

"Sorry,"Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair. If he had looked up he’d see Jaso towering over him with the iconic red helmet on. "I don't mean to trespass, I was just tailing one of Tim's friends."

"Timbo's friend? What'd the kid do to get Nightwing to follow him all the way to Crime Alley? He in some kind of trouble?" Hood huffed. Or the kid is trouble, Jason thought. 

"Not exactly," Nightwing started, glancing back at the building Danny disappeared into. Still nothing.  "Tim was worried about him. Kid didn't seem to be eating or sleeping well, and was hanging at Babs' library until close. We thought maybe he was a runaway, but he’s going to Gotham Prep so he has to have some sort of funds, except tonight I followed him until he went into the Pizzeria."

Hood whistled, crouching next to his brother. "Think he's living there? Not really a good place for a kid by himself."

"Yeah," Dick agreed. He paused before adding, "Danny's a good kid. If you could maybe look out for him when you can?"

Hood paused, looking towards the dilapidated building. "Yeah, alright. But you and Tim owe me," Dick huffed a laugh. "Can't be having a kid out here all alone, especially with winter coming up. I'll see if I can talk to him eventually."

"Please don't scare him too much," Dick grinned. If he knew one thing about Jason, it was that he had a soft spot for kids. 

"So, what's the kid look like? Because if you say black hair and blue eyes I'm going to shoot you." Hood added. Dick simply smiled mischievously, causing Jason to let out a groan. "Seriously? Get out of here."

“I’m pretty sure Tim might just be looking for a new sibling. That or he has a crush.”Dick laughed, standing up and patting the dust off himself. "You'll still keep an eye out?"

Hood waved him off tiredly. "Yeah yeah, I'll look after the newest brother." He shook his head fondly at the cackle Dick let out as he grappled away. 

Looking towards the shoddy Pizza place, Hood sighed. Obviously he wouldn't turn the kid in to CPS, but with winter coming up the kid might need someone looking out for him. There was no way the heating still worked in that place, and Jason was pretty sure one of the walls had a giant bat-sized hole in it. Maybe he’d check out the place while the kid was at school, just to see if he had everything he needed. 

Though, Jason grinned, maybe he could have a little fun messing with his future baby brother before Bruce got his hands on him. Scaring the kid out of crime alley and into a shelter would be a good start. 

It had been over a month since Danny'd stepped foot in Amity Park. It had just gotten too dangerous for him to stay after... that day. The GIW had been getting more intense, so Danny had already been on edge when the news broke.

His parents were partnering with the GIW. It meant extra funding, equipment, but it also meant Agent K and the others had more access to deadlier weapons- which made his job defending people from ghosts and ghosts from people even harder. Danny had obviously been upset at first, and had called Jazz to come home from college to help him persuade their parents against it. 

Jack and Maddie were set on the partnership though, and Danny tried explaining to his parents why it would be a bad idea. Things escalated, and Danny had told them again about how ghosts aren't bad- they're not evil, they're sentient and they have feelings. Jack and Maddie had become eerily suspicious, and started thinking he was possessed. Like the only reason why he’d be advocating for ghosts was because he was one.

Things took a bad turn from there. They’d tried to trap him, which worked since he’d been Danny at the time. His transformation was an accident though, due to one of their crazy inventions activating his rings. Jack and Maddie were shocked, of course, when he'd accidentally revealed he was Phantom. He was terrified of their reactions- had been ever since he'd had the accident a year ago. Jack and Maddie had... not reacted well, to say the least. They hadn't immediately gone for their weapons, though, so Danny had stayed calm, hoping to talk things out. He thought maybe they just needed to hear his side of things. He hoped they'd accept him.

Danny had been wrong.

Waking up strapped to a table in the lab not long after being zapped by the net that had trapped him, he realized there was probably nothing he could do to convince them he was still their son. Danny had to finally admit he was scared of his parents. The realization hurt far worse than the wounds they gave him. Jazz was his only saving grace, and he thanked the Ancients he was able to call her to come home before it all went down.

Jazz hadn't heard from Danny at all after he’d called the first time, so when she'd come home it was to her parents sleeping soundlessly and her brother half-conscious and bleeding out in the basement, strapped to a table like some sort of lab experiment. She was horrified. Nearly crying her eyes out, she struggled to get Danny out of there and patch up his wounds. She did the best she could to stop the bleeding while keeping her eyes away from the various filled jars on the counter. Jazz knew that she and Danny were no longer safe with Jack and Maddie, so she started making plans.

First, she called Tucker and Sam to let them know of the situation, while she took Danny and the Specter Speeder into the Ghost Zone. She knew that was the only place her parents wouldn't be able to follow. Danny had also said before that the Far Frozen had people he could trust, as well as medical equipment that surpassed the human realm. The Yeti, who Jazz had forgotten the name of as soon as he'd said it, was horrified at what had happened, and reassured Jazz he would be well taken care of while she was making arrangements. She’d stayed a few moments to wash the greenish red blood off her hands before pulling herself together. She almost couldn’t bear to leave him alone again, but she knew there were things to get done in the human realm.

Jazz had some of the plans outlined in a worst-case scenario like this, but she'd never thought it would actually happen. Nevertheless, she was grateful that they’d made plans like this. Back in the house, she'd trashed the lab as much as she could, unfortunately, waking her parents in the process. Luckily, she’d destroyed the jars of suspicious green and red liquids before that, and she stormed out before they could say anything. Actually, they might’ve said a lot, but Jazz was not listening. Jazz no longer had anything to say to Jack and Maddie. In her mind, they were a hopeless case. They'd done something irreversible, and she no longer thought of them as her parents. Not after they had... dissected her little brother. The thought made her stomach turn, and she wiped away tears she didn't think she still had in her.

After her third short breakdown, she composed herself and kept going. Someone had to be the adult in this situation, and her little brother needed her. Jazz fought back the memories of Danny- so small, laying on that lab table, so much blood, her baby brother- and got to work. She'd had some of the paperwork filled out before, mostly regarding school records, applications, and personal information, then had contacted Tucker to help with the rest. Such as fake ID, birth certificate, etc.

Jazz knew her parents wouldn't rest until they had Danny back. Them and the GIW both. Thankfully, her parents were dumb enough to think that Phantom-Danny had been a ghost, and had kidnapped their real son, so the secret of Halfas was still safe. She knew Danny wasn't safe in Amity Park, and Danny's friends agreed. Jazz was glad Sam and Tucker hadn’t seen Danny strapped to the table, but judging by their faces, they could imagine. She made a note to talk to them afterwards as a therapist to make sure they were coping well. The three of them had met up at Tucker’s house, tears and blood- in Jazz's case- on all of their faces. After quick hugs and reassurances that Danny was alive and they'd get him when everything was ready, the three of them continued with their plans.

Sam was in charge of a go-bag. Danny would need clothes, food, medical supplies, ghost gear- just in case - and other supplies. Tucker dealt with funds- stealing from Vlad was like taking candy from a baby- fake ID, and other important forgeries. Meanwhile, Jazz got to work on paperwork. She figured schooling was most important, besides housing, and got everything set up from there. A few dozen calls and stolen funds, and Danny would be living in Gotham. Her brother would be renting a small apartment and attending a private school, with plenty of funds in his new bank account. It would be the least likely place for their parents to look for him. They kept Danny as his first name, but combined their own into a fake last name to throw off the trail. They didn't have many options with Manson and Foley, but they were too worried about their friend/brother to get too creative with it. The simpler the better.

Danny would now be Daniel Folson, resident of Gotham for a few months. The three of them figured it would be too difficult to remember a full name change, and the fact that Danny was a pretty common name would work in their favor. No one would look for him around Gotham anyway. Or so they hoped. 

Unsure about the extent the GIW or the Fentons would go to to find Danny, they prepared for the worst. That is, if the police got involved, which was likely considering a day after Jazz had dumped Danny in the Ghost Zone, Maddie and Jack had filed a missing persons report on Danny. Since there were no guarantees that Vlad wouldn't get involved either, they had to be thorough. Jazz was not completely confident that Vlad could be convinced to their side, so she didn't bother with telling him anything. The only thing Jazz could trust Vlad to do was to be a fruitloop, and no one needed his smarmy help in anything this serious. Jazz was forever grateful that Tucker was as good with computers as he was, and she made a note to help him get into a good college when he graduated. Though she figured he could probably hack his way into any college he wanted.Either way, Vlad would be none the wiser to his missing funds, and wouldn’t be able to use Technus to track Danny down. 

After they'd gotten all the supplies and paperwork ready to send Danny away- no one was happy about it but they knew things were about to spiral down from here- Tucker warned Dani of the situation, telling her not to come back anytime soon, and while she was worried and angry, she agreed. Dani had the task of leaving ecto-signatures in places far from Gotham in order to keep the trail off Danny while he healed. After a month or so of that, Dani would be okay to keep traveling around like usual. They'd keep in contact though, more than before. Jazz and Tucker were setting her and Danny up with weekly check-ins and emergency beacons and things like that. Tucker’s main job was keeping those two safe, and there was no way the two halfas were getting captured on his watch. 

The Ghosts had heard what happened from Frostbite, and after a slight kidnapping of Ember, they made sure she warned the ghosts to stay in the zone for as long as possible. In a show of solidarity, Skulker had caused a distraction downtown for the GIW and Fentons while Jazz, Sam and Tucker went to get Danny and explain the plan to him.

Danny was... heartbroken. Traumatized. Weak and still healing. Jazz was surprised to see her brother had mutated even more in his ghost form, and now sported pointier ears, paler skin and sharp fangs. They'd eventually talked Danny into leaving for Gotham- not without many tears and arguments- with the help of Frostbite and a visit from Clockwork. All of them hoped it wouldn't be forever, but with the way things were in Amity, things were unlikely to be resolved so soon. Especially with the Fentons joining the GIW. They’d promise that once he was out and things settled, they’d start to form a plan. If it was possible, they’d try to get into contact with the Justice League again. 

Flying alone to Gotham was the hardest thing Danny had ever done, and thought of turning back many times. He didn't. His friends and Jazz would be disappointed and worried out of their minds for him if he did. And he had to admit, they had a plan. He had to protect them and himself. The humming in his chest emanating from his core latched onto the fact that he was protecting everyone by leaving. The ghosts would be safe if they stayed in the zone, and Danny couldn’t stay in Amity or the Zone forever. He couldn’t be Danny Fenton or Phantom in Amity anymore. In Gotham, he could at least be Danny Fenton. Or Folson. He would be alone, but they'd find ways to check in on him when it was safe. He just had to deal with being alone for a while. No big deal. He could do this.

He couldn't.

The first few weeks were the hardest. Danny started school almost immediately, eager for some kind of distraction from the pain of leaving his friends and family behind. Because Jazz was his only family now that his parents were... hunting him. Had hurt him. Jazz was his only family now besides Ellie and he couldn’t even talk to them anymore. No one knew what Technus was up to so communication was only for emergencies and check-ins. 

Moving to Gotham would have been fine. It would have been fine, if not for the shabby apartment Jazz had set up for him bursting into flames. Something about a villain from Gotham who liked to torch stuff. Firefly, maybe. Danny wasn't sure, but he'd been able to stake out a place to live in an old building. Danny thought it used to be an old pizza place. He'd been able to stash his stuff in the rickety old attic and set up a meager living space with his sleeping bag and other supplies that Sam packed him. His wounds were still aching a bit, but his advanced healing had helped him a lot. Since he woke up from…that, he’d been able to absorb a lot more ectoplasm than he usually did. It was odd, and since he found out he could absorb ectoplasm from anywhere in the human realm, he didn’t need to eat human food nearly as much as he had before. He was down to maybe one meal a day. He could still eat three if he wanted, but the ectoplasm was more than enough to sustain him. It felt weird to eat so much food he didn’t even need. 

There was no way he could contact Jazz about the apartment though, and he knew to use the money in his account sparingly. Danny wasn't sure he'd tell Jazz about his living situation if she'd called anyway. There probably wouldn’t be anything anyone could do at this point. Hacking Vlad’s bank account had been fine the first time, but multiple times would tip the fruitloop off. Danny had rather not have to deal with the fruitloop on his trail too. If everything went to plan, Vlad would be chilling in Wisconsin and not even know about his disappearance until Jack or Maddie called him about it. Given how distracted they were, it should give them a few weeks or so. 

The phone he had been given looked old, but it was Tucker approved safe from pretty much anything. Only to be used in case of emergencies for now, since everyone back home was looking into his friends and searching for him. Danny didn’t count being semi-homeless as an emergency. As a Halfa, he didn’t need to sleep as much as a human either, especially not since his strange new mutation, and that was pretty much all he needed a house for. It was weird to think that his second near-death experience caused him to become more like a ghost, and wondered if he’d just lose his human half over time. He really didn’t want to think about that though. 

Living at the Pizzeria would be fine. The only thing he worried about was his friends and sisters, because at this point Ellie was more like his sister than anything else. Maybe after everything started to die down Danny would be able to contact them. He’d be able to hear their voices. 

He could admit, he missed their voices. Hell, he even missed Dash. So far he'd made a few sort of friends at Gotham Academy; Tim, who drank enough coffee it probably replaced his blood at this point, Steph, who reminded him of if Sam and Star combined into the same person, and Conner, who might or might not be Tim's boyfriend, but he wasn't going to ask. He was pretty sure Conor might also be goth, but he wasn’t sure. It might be weird to ask. Danny thought they were nice, but he didn't want to get close to someone only for him to disappear one day. He didn't want to lose more friends. There was nothing they could do to help him anyways, no ghosts for them to help him catch, no all-meat or vegetarian lunches in the cafeteria to riot about, nothing out of the ordinary. Danny didn’t want to get more people involved in his problems. They might get hurt, and he didn’t want that.

Danny's new place was, for lack of a better word, not ideal. He showered at a nearby gym at night, which was easier because he could turn invisible, and slept in the attic of the abandoned pizzeria. He found it more comfortable to sleep during lunch at school, or at the library, though, so he used the pizzeria for storing his stuff. Since he'd found the library, he'd been going everyday after school to do homework until he fell asleep in one of their comfy bean bags. He was surprised to find he was actually doing well in school now without the constant ghost attacks, or mishaps with his powers. Who knew he was actually pretty smart. Definitely not him. Or Dash. Now that he thought about it, Danny was pretty sure Lancer knew he was wasting his potential. He wondered if his old teacher missed him in class. Probably not. 

The Library closed around 7 though, and usually a nice librarian named Barbra would very politely wake him and kick him out. He'd then get a snack for dinner and then wander around in his ghost form invisibly. Danny didn't actually need to eat as much, considering his ghost form just leeched ectoplasm from his surroundings constantly now- something he learned from Frostbite’s lectures. Danny was just glad he wouldn’t have to make trips into the Zone to get the ectoplasm he needed. 

Speaking of his ghost form, he wasn't stupid enough to use it in Gotham. Even though Dash would argue otherwise about his smarts, Danny knew having the Gotham vigilante's attention would be a bad thing. The Justice League and affiliates were government approved, so any heroes who were in contact with him would be obligated to turn him in to the GIW according to the Anti-Ecto Act. Anything with ectoplasm was no longer sentient and sadly that included Danny. So, he figured staying invisible as much as possible would work in his favor. 

As a ghost, his core obsession to protect people determined his actions a lot more than he wanted it to. At first, he was fine with protecting himself, and staying out of the way. He'd caught glimpses of the vigilantes from afar and was not planning on introducing himself anytime soon. But his core urged him to help. The humming had only gotten stronger, and it made him extremely anxious to not help people every day. After a few days, he was wandering at night, unable to sleep in the dark attic of the Pizzeria- and also not needing as much sleep as a regular person. With no ghost attacks late at night or homework to catch up on, he was more than a little restless.                                                                                                                                                                                         

Danny had stuck to his goal of staying invisible on his nightly trips, but he'd do small things. Trip up a burglar, ice someone’s shoe to the ground, phase a gun out of someone's hand, the small stuff. Danny's core hummed with warmth whenever he managed to help a random citizen and keep the bad guys from doing any harm. He was so used to fighting ghosts, he wasn't sure how to go about fighting regular humans. Danny was very very afraid of going too far or using too much strength. Even on top of the fact that most of his weapons were only effective against ghosts. He couldn't stuff a robber into a thermos.... probably. 

So he left actual crime fighting to the Bats. Danny had gotten curious a few times, and tried to follow them across rooftops. It was easier considering he could fly, but he was still in awe at how they effortlessly moved through the shadows and jumped roofs with ease. Danny found himself tagging along more than he planned to, but the way the vigilante's bantered back and forth reminded him of his friends back home. It was… nice. And he’d already learned a lot about crime fighting with actual humans just by watching them. It was interesting to see how different Ghosts were in comparison. Danny himself would stick to small stuff, and leave the rogues to the Bats, but he tailed them as much as possible to help lessen their load or keep an eye on them. 

After one close call with a gun and an unaware Robin, Danny figured he could help out a bit and they wouldn’t mind. His core hummed louder around the Bats, and it felt…nice to feel like he was a part of things. He was invisible, and surely they wouldn't notice him knocking a gun astray, or a rock thrown at a random goon for a distraction. Danny was helping, but not getting involved in the big stuff, just like he’d promised. It wasn't like he was a vigilante, just… support from afar. It had taken a shorter amount of time than Danny thought it would for them to notice their apparent 'good luck'. 

The Bats had started noticing the small hiccups their villains were having, but didn't know why or where it was coming from, or if it was simply a coincidence. It started with staring. A few times, Danny had to hold back laughter as Red Robin examined a broken flower pot a little too seriously after he'd pushed it off a ledge towards a guy with a gun aimed at the vigilante. He knew he should probably stop following the vigilantes, but he was worried about them. Robin was just so small, and his core hummed happily whenever he protected them in some small way. 

Danny fully blamed his obsession for the bat-stalking he'd been doing. Sure, he helped people when the bats weren't around still, but it was less lonely with the group, and his core had latched onto the family. He wasn’t completely sure if it was because he was missing his own family, but Danny felt better around the Bats. He’d give them their secrecy though, and didn’t pursue them anytime they were on their way home. He didn’t care about their identities as long as they more or less let him tag along. 

The initial suspicion dissipated after a few weeks, and Danny was amused and appreciative when they started to try to communicate with him. Robin mostly ignored him after telling the empty alleyway seriously that he would not tolerate threats, and if he hurt the other vigilante's in any way, Robin would dispose of him. It was funny, but Danny had no doubt the kid would find some way to do it if the ghost crossed the little kid. 

Red Robin, when he was alone, would ask Danny questions. He figured out Danny was willing to communicate by moving objects, and asked questions to confirm some worries. It started with "Why are you helping us?" To which Danny had just kicked an empty can lightly towards the vigilante. From then, Red Robin had figured out a yes or no system that would help get him answers. Danny had fun answering the questions when there was time.

"Okay, uh, kick the can for yes, and the rock for no. Are you going to hurt us?" One kick to the rock. 

"Are you... helping us?" Red Robin asked, raising an eyebrow behind the mask, and Danny cheered internally while kicking the can. He hoped the vigilantes would let him continue to help. “I mean, you have been helping us, but you really don’t need to. We’re professionals.” 

Danny shrugged, floating a few feet in the air, but Red Robin couldn’t see that. Of course Danny knew they’d be fine without him, but he was, for lack of a better word, bored. And they reminded him of his family back home. Without his ‘nightly job’, he had no doubt that his core would reduce him to an anxious ball of goop. 

"Are you…in trouble?" Red Robin said after, and Danny wasn't sure how to respond. He thought for a moment, but before he could do anything, Robin followed up with,"We can help you." to which Danny had kicked the rock in a burst of panic. No, no, no.  He didn't want the bats in his business. For his own safety as well as theirs. No telling what the GIW would do. 

Red Robin frowned at that, but took a seat in the alley. The vigilante seemed to be thinking of a question, but Danny stayed around, eager for some sort of conversation that wasn't from school. And a part of him felt that, if the vigilantes knew what was happening in Amity they’d help. Even if they had to go against the government. Well, he hoped. Tucker had mentioned trying to contact the Justice League about their issue before. "So you need help, but don't want ours." Danny kicked the can. The vigilante thought for a moment longer, then decided to stop pushing for the time being.

"Are you a ghost?" Danny kicked the can, laughing silently at the incredulous face Red Robin made in response. "What the fuck,"He'd muttered, then froze abruptly. "Are you haunting me?"

Just for laughs, Danny kicked the can. Red Robin paled, belatedly reaching for his comm or a weapon, but Danny kicked the rock after a second, making the kid let out a breath of air. The vigilante looked around the alleyway "That was a joke, right?"

Danny kicked the can, shoulders shaking from trying to contain his laughter. "Very funny, almost gave me a heart attack,"He mumbled. A second later, he stood up, brushing himself off.  "You should hang out with Nightwing more, I'm sure he'd love to play pranks with you sometime. As long as they aren't on me,"Red Robin added. 

"Are you... older than Eighteen?" Red Robin asked suddenly, and Danny kicked the rock nonchalantly.”Alright, younger then. And you’re a ghost.”  After a pause, he asked. "Are you lonely?" 

Danny left after kicking the can. He didn't want to talk about it, but figured it would be rude to not answer at least. And he was lonely. Danny missed Jazz, and Sam and Tucker and Ellie. At that point he'd been in Gotham a few weeks and it had been just as long since he'd seen any sign of the ghosts too. He hoped everyone was okay. Danny missed his family so much his core ached. And a part of him hoped Red Robin would talk to him more or let him patrol with them if Red knew he was lonely. 

Nightwing was one of his favorite vigilantes to stalk. He'd been a little caught off guard the first few times, but after a while it seemed Nightwing was happy to have someone to chat with. After Danny had phased the gun out of someone's hand, Nightwing had continued fighting without pause, but after all the thugs were tied up he'd put his hands on his hips and looked around for where Danny might be. "Thanks for the assist Casper!" Nightwing had called out. "I don't know if you're still here, but-"

 Danny knocked over a tupperware container on the ground, and Nightwing relaxed. "Oh, sweet you’re here. That’s mildly terrifying actually,” He rambled. “You know, I have a few more places to patrol, wanna race?"

And since that time, Nightwing somehow roped him into a bunch of activities to keep his mind off Amity Park. Usually, Danny would find some subtle way to let the vigilantes know he was with one of them for the night, like tap them, or toss a rock in their direction. Physical contact wasn't usually received well, so he didn't do it often. He could tell it really unnerved Batman, but he also didn't follow Batman as much as the others. Danny was a bit intimidated. Okay, he was a lot intimidated.  

Same with Robin. He hung around him a lot since the kid was fun to annoy, and he was worried about him going off on his own sometimes. The kid had said on numerous occasions that he was more than capable and did not need assistance from a mere ghost. Danny thought Robin and Batman were pretty similar. 

So, Danny avoided touching the vigilantes as much as possible. Except for that time when Nightwing asked him to phase through him. That had been pretty funny. He'd then convinced Danny to do it to Red Robin when they met up with him, and then Robin when the kid showed up asking why they were meeting without him. Nightwing had laughed his ass off, Robin had threatened to exorcize him, and it was hard for Danny to keep quiet. It was times like those he’d go back to the pizzeria with a smile on his face. 

From there, they'd sometimes give Danny little tasks to complete, like pass notes back and forth, -or in Nightwing’s case he passed jokes- check in on one of them, or to scope out a building and tell them how many people were inside by using rocks or tapping. It made him feel useful, and it reminded him of his friends back home. Like he was part of a team. It was nice. 

Danny was less lonely at night with the vigilantes. He hardly slept in his dingy little crawl space, opting to spend his nighttime with the heroes and get an hour or so of sleep at school or the library. He still didn't need to eat as much as before the lab accident, so the snacks he got in the morning from Tim, lunch at school, and the meal he ate after the library was fine to keep him going. Danny could tell he was worrying Tim a bit, but he figured the guy was just being polite. Even though Danny didn’t need to eat much, he still ate the snacks Tim brought him, to reassure the shorter kid that he wasn’t starving himself. He'd spent a few more hours sleeping before school to make up for it, hoping his eye bags weren't as prominent as they had been lately. As a newly mutated Halfa, he didn’t need to sleep more than four hours a night usually, and if he was avoiding sleep due to nightmares, well, that was for him to know.

A month of doing his not-vigilante but kind of vigilante thing, he was finally getting some sort of rhythm. He'd received a message from Tucker not too long ago detailing that he, Sam Ellie, and Jazz were fine. None of the ghosts had been caught by the GIW and they'd been setting some traps for the guys in white and Danny's parents. He could tell Sam was having a bit of vindictive pleasure with setting the traps to slow them down. Danny was pretty sure he heard something about a scoreboard. Meanwhile, Jazz was still being monitored by the Fentons.The GIW had been told of Danny's ghost-possessing, and the city's police force was still poking their nose around. Tucker had said Vlad had been seen talking to the Fentons, so it was likely the fruitloop- and by proxy Skulker or Technus- would get involved. Technus would be bad for Danny, so Tucker said it might be a while until the next check in and promised to delete anything remotely close to their correspondence. Danny had given a short message in response and a good luck text.

Danny felt his core hum in dismay, fingers twitching with the need to help, but he knew he couldn't go back. He still hated that the three of them had to solve his problems for him but… Part of him was glad he wouldn't have to go back there. Even the thought of the Fenton's basement sent shivers down his spine. So he tried to keep his mind off things, going to school and the library, then supporting the vigilantes at night. Danny sighed, knowing it could always get worse, and that his situation was temporary. He was lucky that his parents hadn't shipped him off to the GIW the moment he’d shown them Phantom. Danny wasn't sure he'd have been able to count on Jazz to get him out if that had happened.

Everything changed when Danny ran into the Red Hood one night.

He'd been following Nightwing, who was heading towards an area they usually stayed away from, when Red Hood showed up with his guns drawn. "I assume there's a reason you're in my territory?"

Danny didn't follow along with their conversation much, too busy trying to figure out why his ghost sense was acting up. He floated around the two, and the closer he got to Red Hood, the more his ghost sense flared. Was Red Hood like him? He passed in front of the red helmet, waving his arms. Danny's arms dropped to his side when he realized Hood couldn't see him like other ghosts could when he was invisible. Soon, when Nightwing jumped gracefully to another roof, Danny decided to follow Red Hood.

Watching him after a while, Danny could tell the Red Hood knew he was there. Or at least, could sense his presence. Danny wasn't sure if Red Hood was a halfa like him, or some kind of meta. It was interesting, because while he couldn’t feel any kind of core, he could still sense ectoplasm on the guy. What caused it? Did Red Hood generate ectoplasm himself? Danny wasn’t sure, no matter how long he stared at him. Either way, he could feel some type of ectoplasm coming off of Hood in small waves. It felt a lot like the ring of rage, and Danny shivered at the memory.

Suddenly, Red Hood drew a gun and pointed it to where Danny's head was. Caught up in his own thoughts, Danny was so startled he'd accidentally dropped his invisibility, letting out a small squeak. "A kid?" He heard Hood mutter, before the guy went into interrogation mode. "Who are you and why have you been following me?"

Danny stared wide eyed, willing himself to respond. "Uh- you, um," Danny stammered, trying to figure out how to explain that Danny was following him because he was possibly a halfa or contaminated with ectoplasm. "You um, you feel like a ghost."

Red Hood froze, and Danny scrambled to explain, floating away from the gun and waving his hands in a panicked way. He made sure to give Hood his space and not look threatening, but he felt like he needed to explain. One of the vigilantes was like him, meaning there was a possibility that they were hiding from the GIW too. Was Red Hood in hiding already? Did he know about the GIW?  "I- I mean usually I can sense when another ghost is close by, and you feel like a ghost does. Sort of. I was curious, so I m-may have followed you, but I’m on your side. Obviously, you can sense me or something and I can um, sense you so I mean, I was wondering why you feel like a ghost. Sort of."

"What do you mean sort of?" Red Hood grunted, cutting off Danny’s panicked rambling and holstering his gun, but not relaxing. The glowing green eyes of the ghost kid did nothing to reassure Jason of anything good. "And what the fuck do you mean about ghosts?"

Danny floated closer, squinting at Hood, and getting a feel for the ectoplasm inside him. It felt... corrupted in a way. Like the Ring of Rage."Oh, um. Well, I'm a ghost," Danny said, straightening himself. He didn't offer to shake hands, because he knew the other vigilante's didn't like it. He was way colder in his ghost form and it unsettled a lot of people. Tucker in particular hated it when he shoved his cold ghost hands under the geek’s shirt. "You can call me Phantom."

"Red Hood," The guy grunted, still suspicious, but Danny couldn't blame him. Meeting a ghost for the first time was always kinda disorienting.

"Right, explanation. So, I was haunting Nightwing- which, okay that sounds bad but he uh, he knows about it. Um, I mean he knows about me, sort of," Danny clarified, glancing at the Hood’s stiff posture." We race sometimes. And I don’t haunt him all the time. Um. Only when I see him on the roofs and stuff."

Red Hood crossed his arms, willing the kid- Was he a kid? He looked younger than the Replacement- to get on with the story. He was curious and on edge about how the ghost kid could tell he was.. not fully alive. And the fact that he could escape "Uh, right. So when he met with you I sort of sensed you were sort of like me, so I followed you because I was confused and worried about how you-"

"What do you mean like you?" Red Hood said, stepping forward menacingly, which didn't seem to phase the kid who was floating several feet in the air. Right, he was a ghost. How the heck would he be able to fight a ghost, he wondered. Maybe he’d call up Constantine after this. If he survived. 

"I mean it feels like you have ectoplasm in you, but it’s… different. All ghosts and Halfas have a core, but… I don't think you have one," He muttered, squinting at Jason's chest. When he floated closer Jason just took a step back. Danny held up his hands in surrender, backing off before the gun-toting vigilante decided to shoot him. It was just intriguing to meet a sort-of halfa. 

"A core?" Jason asked, staring at the kids glowing white hair that moved like he was underwater. He'd started to realize this was just a kid, probably just curious about why Jason felt similar to him. But where did Phantom come from? What was a ghost kid doing haunting Gotham of all places? Actually, Jason could think of a lot of reasons why someone would haunt Gotham. He figured he might as well get some useful information out of the kid, but it was unlikely that the kid meant any harm. Just…a curious kid, Jason decided. Still. It was weird.

"Right,"The kid said, putting a hand to his chin. Jason wondered if he'd ever had to explain this to anyone else before. Did the kid know any other ghosts like him? It was a sad thought. Was this kid all alone in his afterlife? Jason thought maybe Bruce would be happy to adopt a lonely ghost kid to forever haunt the manor. "Um, so every ghost has a core, it’s like their heart. Halfas are like ghosts, because they have a core, but they also have a heart, and stuff like that cuz they're half human. Cores are sustained by ectoplasm. You though, you don't have a core, so you aren't a halfa or a ghost, but you have ectoplasm. I'm not sure why."

Red Hood was silent for a moment before answering,"I do."

“You- you know how you got all that ectoplasm? Cause it's not the good kind," Danny asked with wide eyes, then wrinkled his nose. "It smells angry." He squinted, making Jason snort.

"Yeah." Hood grunted. That’s an understatement. "I died, but was brought back using the Lazarus pits. Basically a pit of toxic green water."

"Huh." Danny shifted, coming closer to examine the angry ectoplasm a bit more. He was in awe of how close Red Hood allowed him to get. He could see a bit of a green tinge in the air around Hood, and poked at it gently, making the Hood stiffen, but the vigilante didn’t move away."The green water- sludge, whatevers, we call it ectoplasm. It um. It can be other things, not just water, but yeah. The stuff around you sounds, and feels, like some form of corrupted ectoplasm. Usually it's all in the Ghost zone- a sort of different dimension for ghosts, but sometimes there's thin spots in the barrier between worlds so some ghosts or ectoplasm can get through."The ghost explained, then added with a thoughtful expression,"I'll have to talk to the ancients about those pits, probably not safe for humans to be falling into it all the time."

The last comment made Jason hum in agreement, silently reeling about a different realm filled with ghosts and lazarus energy, but wondered if giving this kid info about the pits was really a good idea or not. Red Hood kept an eye on the ghost kid the whole time, fingers itching for his guns while the kid scrutinized him. His nerves almost got the best of him a few times with the kid staring at him so intently. Maybe this was a bad idea. He could feel the kid’s presence, and if he was telling the truth then that meant the kid was also a part of the Lazarus pits in some way. His hand went for his gun, when the kid suddenly straightened up. "Well, since you're not a Halfa or anything, want me to get rid of it for you?"

"What," Jason snapped, narrowing his eyes. Get rid of the Pit rage? Could it be that easy? Why now of all times did this tiny ghost kid come along and try to fix all his problems? Was it a trap? Jason thought, considering.

"I mean, I've never done it before, but all ghosts can kind of control ectoplasm to an extent," Phantom said, holding his hand out, which was now glowing with green, as an example. Jason stared at the collection of green in the kid’s hand, and he felt… strangely at ease with it. Unlike the green from the pits, this was lighter somehow. Not angry. And a lighter green. "Mine is not corrupted though, so it probably feels different."

And it did. Jason didn't get that same feeling he got when he encountered anything pit-related. He could tell they were similar, but not. Phantom's green was.. calmer. "I can try to draw out the grumpy ectoplasm-"

“We are not calling it that,"Jason cut in, and the kid smirked at him in a way that reminded him of his brothers. Jason felt taken aback at how easy it was to banter with the weird ghost kid. He shrugged off the weird feelings and went back to business.  "No. We’re not. What would you do with it when you have it all?"

That question seemed to stump the kid. Jason squined, half convinced the kid was going to do something dangerous with it but instead of that, the kid just looked as confused as Jason as he started to ramble. "I dunno. It probably would taste pretty gross, but I don’t have a portal to the zone to toss it into either. I mean maybe I could find a natural portal. Maybe put it in a jar? It might get out though. I guess I could freeze it? Ghost ice doesn't melt. You could keep it around as a paperweight or something." Phantom shrugged, and the idea thrown out there that his constant rage could be filtered out of his body to be made into a paperweight was so damn strange that Jason knew there was probably no way this was a trap. Phantom was just a well meaning, too curious, kind of dumb kid.

“A paperweight,”Jason deadpanned. 

“I-I mean I can try to make it into a sculpture?” Phantom winced,”I’m not great at making anything other than spheres. I can try though? If you want a.. Prettier paperweight?”

Jason stared at the kid a moment in exasperation. “No. A sphere is. Fine.” Jason huffed. “So you’re taking the pit rage-”

“Grumpy ectoplasm,”Phantom cut in helpfully. Jason ignored him.

“-and freezing it in a sphere of ice that will never melt in order to contain it forever, and giving it to me as a paperweight,”Jason finished, trying to wrap his head around the ridiculousness of everything. 

“Yea,” Phantom finger-gunned. Jason sighed. 

"Alright,"Jason shrugged, opening his arms a bit. "Do your worst." He said before he had time to regret it. This was probably way against Bat protocol, especially since he didn’t know where the kid came from or anything about him, but Jason was curious. Plus, if Nightwing spent time racing the kid in his freetime then he couldn’t be too bad. Probably. And he may be getting his hopes up a bit. No way would Batman let him exchange trauma for a paperweight in an alley with the ghost of a child. Batman never let him do anything fun. 

"Nice! Okay hold still-"Phantom said, dropping to stand the ground, which surprised Jason because he could see the kid actually had legs now. Seeing legs instead of weird wisps of a tail was strange, but oddly made sense, and he noticed the kid was wearing some sort of hazmat suit with absolutely zero protection. He watched with suspicion as he held his palms out to Jason, but not touching, and closed his eyes. The kid took a breath- do ghosts breathe?- before Jason started to see this dark green mist start to waft off of him and collect vaguely in the kid's hands.

Jason startled, about to move away when he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He felt... lighter. The green haze that seemed to always be at the edge of his vision receded, and Jason almost felt... relieved. He didn't realize how suffocating all that rage was until it was gone. It very nearly drove him to tears. For the first time in forever he just felt… calm. Like he was taking a breath of fresh air after a lifetime of pollution. 

 "Aaand done!" Phantom exclaimed,and Jason had a feeling that Phantom would be doing jazz hands if he wasn’t holding.. Something. The kid was holding a menacing swirling mist of green in between his hands like a giant marble. He focused again for a moment before Jason felt a chill to the air, and suddenly there was a blue sphere in the kids hands, the inside a swirly green color suspense within the sparkling ice. 

"Here,"Phantom offered, giving him the sphere of Jason's pit rage before the vigilante could say anything. Jason looked at it a few moments with apprehension before shrugging. He'd have a breakdown about this later, he was sure, and pocketed the now paperweight in one of his pouches. The weight of it was not comforting in the least, and part of him wanted to throw it into the harbor as soon as he got a chance. He didn’t though. Yet. "I think I got all of it, but if you start feeling it again come find me. I’ll probably be around Nightwing or something. You feel okay, right?"

Pushing aside Jason's questions of how the hell was he supposed to find an invisible ghost kid in Gotham of all places, he nodded. "Y-yeah. Thanks."

"No problem," Phantom waved, once again floating into the air, only this time sitting criss-cross applesauce. Jason sort of thought he might be dreaming. Might as well try to get some answers though, he thought. “And it won’t melt or break. Unless, like, I get killed as a ghost or something but it might not melt at that either.” 

"Why would you help me? Why would you tell me about any of this at all?" Jason asked, leaning against the wall. He felt exhausted all of a sudden, and elected to ignore Phantom’s comment about something possibly killing him as a ghost. Whether it be from the emotional whiplash or from having ecto-whatever pulled from his body, he didn't know. Still, he didn’t regret letting the kid turn his trauma into a paperweight. He had a passing thought about whether this meant he’d die without the ectoplasm, but honestly didn’t care over the relief of it being gone for good. 

"’Cause you seemed like you needed help. And I didn't have any when I became,"Phantom trailed off, and Jason winced when he gestured to himself. "It can be scary,"He continued in a softer tone. "Having to get used to new powers and stuff."

Jason shivered, and felt a pang in his chest that the kid had probably died at that age. Phantom looked younger than Tim, who was fifteen. "You mentioned Halfas? Are they common?" Jason asked, suddenly aware of a possible new threat. People who were more half-dead than Jason and possibly had powers like the ghost in front of him. "How come I haven't heard of them or ghosts like you before?"

"Nah," Phantom said, still quiet. "There's only three Halfas that I know of. And you probably wouldn't know about any of us, since we're all usually in hiding." Especially right now, Danny thought. 

"Why? Wouldn't halfas be like metas? They’d have protection." Jason asked, and Phantom could hear concern and confusion in his voice, despite the voice modifier.

Phantom shook his head, white hair swishing gently in the ghostly atmosphere, and Jason noticed pointy ears."Halfas fall under the Anti-ecto Acts according to your government. Anything with ectoplasm isn't classified as human, or sentient, and the Ghost Investigation Ward is able to hunt down and experiment on them,"The ghost shivered. "That's why I was confused about you. And worried, cause exposure to ectoplasm isn’t usually planned and can be difficult to get used to without help from a ghost.. I wasn't sure if you'd be at risk if the GIW found out about you.  They have… sort of a way to track ectoplasm. If they knew about you they’d…" Phantom trailed off, but Jason got the picture. 

"Oh,"Jason breathed. This went a hell of a lot deeper than he thought it did. And Jason could have just been taken and experimented on at any point before this and it would be legally allowed? Yikes. He needed to do more research on this for sure. "You mentioned a ghost zone?"

"Oh, yeah," Phantom waved nonchalantly. "It’s also called the Infinite Realms. Houses all the ghosts, ruled by the ghost king, blah, blah. It's been a while since I've been back, but the whole thing is made up of ectoplasm. Usually there’s weak spots that can act as a portal between the two worlds, but some ghosts have the ability to create portals. As far as I know only three ghosts in the Zone where I’m from can do that. There’s also man-made portals, where people from this realm sort of…poke holes? Into the Ghost Zone. It’s usually a pretty bad idea."Phantom added, rubbing the back of his neck. "Some ghosts can be kinda dangerous. Or ghosts who want to be left alone fall through and get trapped here. They all have their own obsessions to follow and sometimes humans can get hurt. Or the ghost hunters take the ghosts for experiments, try to kill them, stuff like that."

Jason thought for a moment, letting the info-dump process in his mind a bit before a thought came to mind. "Do you know where the Halfas are? How did they become half-ghosts?" He asked, to which Phantom inclined his head, but said nothing.

"If they're hiding from this shady government organization, I can help,"Jason argued, and Phantom shook his head stiffly. "Isn't there anything you can tell me about them?"

"If you go after the GIW, you might not come back,"Phantom warned. "They don't just exterminate ghosts, they use them to make weapons or power sources. It's dangerous, and they don't know halfas exist yet." Danny hoped so at least. His own parents thought he was just being possessed by Phantom, so there was a good chance they weren't aware of them yet. "I'd like to keep it that way. It’s safer for them if no one knows they exist. They know how to hide. They have protection. They’ll be fine."

Hood sighed, feeling the weight of his rage in his pocket. He was sure he’d have his gun out at this point if he’d still had all that rage inside him. Now he just felt kind of exhausted. He’d look into this shady organization no matter what the kid said though. Even if there were only three half-humans out there, they didn’t deserve to be hunted. Hell, even ghosts like this kid didn’t deserve to be hunted. Maybe if the Bats could get into contact with the ghost king then they can come up with some sort of truce between both realms. 

”Alright. Fine,"Jason grumbled. "I'll look into it and see if I can't get it shut down.” Phantom froze up, so Jason quickly added,”Don't worry, I won't mention any of your secrets to anyone. I won't pry about the halfas either,"He sighed again, thinking of how this was probably a job for Batman. It's possible Tim already is semi-aware of it at least, Jason figured. 

Jason wondered if Phantom in Gotham meant one or more of the halfas were hiding here, and he was just keeping an eye out for them. Was the kid protecting the halfa’s here? Were there other ghosts around doing the same? It seemed like something the kid might do. "Just, keep the halfas and ghosts safe, and stay out of trouble."

"Aye aye," Phantom saluted, before disappearing into the night. Jason paused, no longer able to feel the ghost's presence when he went invisible. Jason reached into his pocket, feeling the smooth cold surface of the pit rage. 

What a weird night, he thought.

Chapter 3

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Marriage Law Trope part 6

I don’t know why it matters. I don’t even like to eat.

I get up every day and I put my body into clothes that are growing increasingly baggy on me. I put these clothes on my body and I attempt to waste time.

Every day, while Granger is away, I pick at the white paint on the wall. I pick at the paint with a brush and colors I tore out of the studio in my personal quarters inside of the manor. I pick at my colors and I carry them all into the empty room across the hall from where all of Granger’s boxes are. the boxes are full of bits and pieces of her and I spend my time going between the two rooms.

I open her boxes and look through her life. It’s a stripped down, rudimentary version of who she is, but I take it.

I find pictures of her from when she was a child. Muggle photos, where nothing moves. It’s a still shot of a moment and you know it’s not an accurate representation of life because its just this micromomentary snippet of a moment within a moment within a world that you’ve never been in.

All day, I do this until I get too wound up.

When the ants have taken over my body and my brain can’t quiet down, I floo over to Theo’s.

Mother shoved Theo into my life shortly after I got engaged with Astoria. She took him and shoved him to fit into my life and I’ve taken to him. He seems to understand me without me having to say a word.

When I floo into his home, usually around dinner time, he pours me a drink and then we find our way into the muggle littered streets of London.

Together, Theo and I watch the automobiles amble by. Muggles like engines that combust with little explosions and they’re loud and they make the road shake and my skin to vibrate and I like it.

Theo and I pick fights with whatever smarmy asshole who hits on anything with tits and two legs. I don’t want the women they flirt with. I just want to have a wife who will sit at he table with me and have a cup of tea. I want a wife who will come home at supper time and tells me what is going on in her head.

I want a wife who doesn’t fuck a Weasley.

By the time Granger finally gets home, the alcohol has turned my body into mush, my mind is aching and it’s all wearing off. It’s the reprimand for altering your mind again. My mind is nearly always altered, but with alcohol, it hurts my head and with the potions, it hurts my chest.

And so when Granger finally gets home, I am still bored and I grow frustrated with the room that is now where I paint, because it’s too white, but I’m afraid to put any color into it. Because that would be distracting.

And so I just pick at the paint and I wait.

“So you paint.” Granger says, her eyebrows knitting together.

We’re sitting at the dining table inside of our little home and there’s a plate of food in front of me and there’s a plate in front of her.

She’s made us lunch.

Something simple. Sandwiches with cucumbers and cheese and dill. There’s a salad with cranberries and spinach and something else, I don’t know. I don’t care.

Because, Granger asked me what I do all day.

So I tell her all of that.

I shrug and poke a fork at the green leaf on the plate. “I can’t work at the ministry and I like using my hands,” I shrug and avoid the way her eyes pierce into the walls of my mind. She’s not a Legilimen’s. I know this. But she might as well be something like it. Something worse.

She’s breaking down the walls just by staring at me.

Because, it’s oddly comforting and its unnatural and somehow, Granger’s eyes can peel back the layers of brick I’ve stacked and solidified.

I hate how much she sees with those big, dumb eyes and I hate that I can read her face, too.

She’s let some the cracks in her wall deepen and spread and soon, her bricks will fall because I think if I can touch her, then I can break her.

So, I tell her that I like to paint and that I look through her things.

I tell her about Theo and about breakfast with my parents. I tell her that I do laps around the property. I run and I run until my legs feel like they’re going to detach from my body.

What I don’t tell her is that I spend most of my day thinking about her. What I don't tell is her that I am tired of eating alone. What I don’t tell her, is that I sometimes play with her hair products just so that her scent can linger in my nose.

And I hate it. She’s like this parasite that’s dug itself into my life and it’s feeding off of me. But the weird thing is that I need this parasite, because it makes me something more than before. With this little parasite surviving off of my blood, I am more than nothing. I am something that’s giving a piece of myself and it’s taking and taking but it never gives me anything in return. It’s terrible and I wish she’d disappear. I wish I could wrap my hands around her neck and force her to fade away, as if we never existed.

What I don’t tell her, is that when she is gone, I spend most of my time wishing she was around.

...

The following Saturday, I wake up before Granger. I might not have even fallen asleep. Because, the potions aren’t working anymore. I’m always on edge. I’m always twitching. My mind wont shut up. It’s always chattering and I can never sit still anymore.

So, I paint. I paint this vision in my head that has been slowly building since Granger re-entered my life.

There’s the sun rising over a crowded city, but the buildings are mere specks on the horizon. Because there’s so much smog, so much bullshit in the air that they are barely visible. And the sun is setting over this dirty city and the rays of sun are blending with all of the crap and all of the impurities and all of me as it casts its warm glow over the world.

The blend of gold and brown creates this beautiful shade of topaz.

It reminds me of Granger and her eyes.

She finds me early that morning in the empty white room as I fill one of the walls with color.

“You’re up early.” She says it like I’m some kind of animal who is liable to bite her at any moment.

And I am.

All I do is think about biting her. All I do is think about how terrible it would be if I was to want her. How horrible it could be if I could just bite and suck at her throat and at her perfect tits.

She’s dressed in her stupid baggy sweater and her little blue shorts and as I look over at her, my hand holding a paintbrush at my side, I want to punish her. Because she's never around but she still manages to be everywhere.

With a sigh, I run a hand over my hair, shoving it out of my face before I turn to face her fully.

Her eyes are doing that thing again. As she leans against the doorjamb, her eyes are sweeping over my body. She’s looking at my naked chest, streaked in paint, and the way my pants hang loosely on my hips.

Her walls are weak right now.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I tell her. My eyelids feel heavy as I run my own eyes over her body, up her bare legs, over the way the sweater hangs over her breasts. she isn’t wearing a bra and despite how baggy the thing is, it doesn’t hid the peeked tips of her breasts.

We’re eating each other up with our eyes and the words we’ve exchanged mean nothing at all. And maybe if we just get this consummation out of the way, out of our system, we can go back to hating each other.

But, I’m not sure Granger even hates me. Because she hates my father, and I know, I know, that to be true because the hatred is palpable. When she sees my father meandering around the property, or they cross paths, her buoyant curls seem to come to life with all of the agitated magic that suddenly enteres her system. She turns into some sort of mass generator of energy and it’s all angry and it’s all bad. And it’s all aimed at father.

I need her to tell me what the fuck she is thinking. And I need all of her attention on me.

“What are you doing today?” I ask, tossing my paintbrush onto the floor before I move closer to her. I move, slowly, careful not to scare her off.

She takes a step into the room. She shrugs and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “I am going to go to brunch with Harry and Ron.”

That ancient thing inside of me stirs. It feels like an old friend and it’s slowly spreading from the center of my belly, into my chest and out to my limbs.

Granger’s eyes narrow in on me, because I’ve stopped moving. My feet are stuck to the floorboards, my eyes are dead, vacant as the beast takes over.

My teeth clench together as I finally lift my chin and sniff.

“You’re not going anywhere with Weasley.”

“Draco,” She sighs but I cut her off. with the flick of my wrist, the door slams shut and locks.

Granger jumps, startled, and looks to the door before she looks to me, her wide eyes full of fear. She turns to open the door, but it wont budge. She tries some wandless magic, but my hold on the door is firm. And I don’t really know what the fuck I am doing. All I know is that I’m breaking.

I am crumbling into something I don’t recognize and it’s unstoppable. I couldn’t stop this disaster from happening, even if I tried.

Trust me, I know.

“Let me out.” She demands as she turns to glower at me. “Draco, let me out.”

“Shut up.” I hiss, running a hand over my face. “You’re always saying my name. Stop saying my name.”

“Why?” She lifts her chin, defiantly, and it’s too much. Her stubborn chin is taunting me. Her defiance is irritating and it is addicting.

I close the gap between us and I wrap my hands around her throat. But I don’t choke her out, like I dream about. Instead, my fingers are gentle as I cradle her head.

“It does things to me. Why do you do it?”

Granger is trembling and all of her walls are crumbling as her eyes stare up at me with fear and...relief. Tears are quickly gathering and welling up in her eyes and her golden-brown topaz eyes sparkle.

But she says nothing. She just stares up at me, waiting for me to hurt her.

“You’re my wife.” I remind her. “Not Weasley’s.”

Her jaw tightens and she looks guilty and all the more defiant.

“You want him?” I ask her, tilting my head to track my eyes up her face, over her forehead and across her nose. This close up, I can make out all of the little faint freckles that line the bridge of her nose, the curves of her cheeks. There’s some on her forehead, near her hairline that are even fainter. Like those are the newest batch of freckles gifted to her by the sun.

Her voice is rough and quiet. “I don’t know, anymore.”

She’s telling me the truth. So I ask her something else.

“Do you want me?”

Something incredible happens. Grangers shoulders slump as her entire body gives in. Her eyes pinch shut and her lips press together because she is unable to keep her walls up around me. She’s just as helpless as I am.

“Granger,” I bend my knees and peer down into her face. “Do you want me?” If I sound incredulous, it’s because I am.

Because my wife wants me as much as I want her. And the point is, I’ve wanted her for ages. Lifetimes have spanned and in my mind, it's always been her. All I think about is her big, dumb eyes and her rose pink lips and gods, I want her.

I’ve kept this little nugget of gold in my mind, protected. It’s been so heavily guarded that I sometimes forget it’s even there. It’s this tiny little truth that has been so sinful, and such a betrayal to my father, that I've locked it away. It’s just been hiding there, collecting dust and now it’s been exposed and it’s been cleaned off and it’s so bright and shiny, I can on longer ignore it.

“Things are too complicated, Draco.”

There she goes, again.

“Granger,” I’m pushing her back, guiding her body with my hands on her throat and she lets me. She lets me walk my fingers up to her jaw. she lets me force her head back against the door with a thud. “Tell me the truth. Tell me you want me.”

She’s so fragile in my hands, I’m afraid I might break her. I hope that I do.

And I’m all wound up. All of that energy that begs to be let out of my body is slowly releasing itself into her and I can barely breathe. I’m panting and panting, gobbling up bits of oxygen and forcing it out through my mouth before it can even turn into carbon dioxide.

“Draco.” Her lips are trembling, and my hands are shaking and she needs to shut the fuck up, already. She has to stop saying my name like I’m hers.

I can’t wait for her confirmation, anymore. Because she keeps whimpering out my name, like its some sort of an explanation for some sort of terrible deed she has committed. She says it like its exposing the depths of her soul, unwillingly. Like I’m pulling it out of her, slowly and painfully, like bits of stubborn string.

She opens her mouth to say it again and I stop her.

She opens her mouth and I close my own over it. I taste the syllables of my name that are muffled by my lips and my tongue as I kiss her.

My name turns into a whimper and all of my anger turns into a groan and together, our sounds mix together as our mouths mold together.

There is so much heat between our bodies that it feels like a fire. This entire room could be on fire and I couldn’t stop myself from continuing to gobble her up.

Her hands are on my chest, the tips of her little fingers pressing into my skin. She’s desperately trying to hold on as we fall into whatever this is.

This is chaos and bliss all wrapped up into a kiss. Because I’m unstoppable. This is the classic paradox out in the open, exposed for the entire world to witness. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? And just like the fox and the hound, the gods turn us into static constellations. Which in itself is a paradox because stars are never static. We're great forces of energy that are always shifting.

And we're creating all of this energy that is finally colliding.

And now, I am kissing her like it's the only thing I’ve been needing and I didn’t know. I have just stumbled upon it, and now I’m saved and doomed all at once.

My hands are firm on her jaw, the tips of my fingers digging into her cheeks as I press harder against her body.

I’m going to squeeze her between my body and the door and I’m going to force her into some kind of liquid that my body can absorb and then she will be all mine.

Only mine.

I pull my mouth away, gasping for air. “You’re my wife.” I growl and she responds by pressing her fingernails into the flesh on my chest. “You’re mine.”

“Draco.” She says it again, like a warning.

But I just take it as permission to proceed.

I kiss her again and again and again.

I kiss her until her body grows weak and my arms have to wrap around her waist. they have to hold her up and she’s wrapping her arms around my neck while the tips of her toes drag across the floor as I move her to the center of the room.

Because I need to kiss her forever. I need to pin her to the floor and never let her out of my sight. Because she belongs to me. She was forced to be my wife, forced to take me and I don’t understand how I got so lucky.

Laying her on the floor, I crawl over her and pin her down with my body. My knee is wedged between her thighs and my hands are on her hips as I kiss her again and again.

Again and again, I kiss her while my hands move under that stupidly baggy sweater of hers and I feel the warmth of bare skin at her stomach.

She shudders under my touch and I can tell she’s conflicted. Because she thinks we’re making a huge mistake but how can it be a mistake? She’s mine.

I am hers.

Fuck.

I am hers.

My hands are slowly, greedily, palming her flesh as they make their way up to her breasts.

When my fingers finally graze the swell of them and she arches her back and my eyes are practically rolling into the back of my head as I feel the soft texture, like velvet and they feel like something I’d like to snack on.

“Draco.” She whimpers into my mouth as my thumbs move over her nipples. I want to tease her, torture her. I want to make her pay.

Because no witch should feel this good. Especially not the mudblood I was programmed to hate.

But she owns me, now.

Her lips, her breasts, the warm space between her thighs own me. And I will be forced to obey them and their needs and wants.

And so I rip the sweater off of her, exposing her upper body and I can feel my face crumble. Because it isn’t fair.

It isn’t fair, how lovely she is. It isn’t fair for me to want her as badly as I do.

And the way she looks up at me, needy and desperate and full of confliction? That isn’t fair, either.

But she’s asking me, with her eyes, to take her. She’s asking me to put my mouth to her breast, to run my tongue over her nipples, to pinch them between my teeth as my hand slides up the leg of her shorts. As my fingers sweep taunting strokes against her wet cunt. They’re asking me to pull those stupid little shorts off and to strip off my stupid pants. They’re asking me to pin her down with my hands as my cock slides into her. So that we can sigh and groan with the fucking release and the pressure that are happening and building all at once. Because that is all we need.

Our bodies are crying out to touch and to take all of the tension between us and stuff it into our bodies until we’re wound up tighter and tighter.

Until we finally explode into the sky like stars that grow too hot, that accumulate too much pressure from all of the gases and chemicals that make up the entirety of our universe.

And when we finally explode, we break up into little debris of rock and matter so that a new world can form from all of our broken pieces. And isn’t that all we are? Just bits of energy that also makes up the rest of everything?

And so I do. I take all of my energy and I pour it into her as we fuck like two ancients gods that only know the power of pleasure and pain.

And when we finally fuck until we burn into a supernova that births a new beginning, Granger stares up at the ceiling like she couldn’t believe the inevitable finally happened.

And I stare at her like I might die if I don't somehow find a way to do it again and again. Like it's the thing I've been waiting for, in order to cure this terrible disease that has long ago been afflicted upon me.

Granger is the cure to the illness that has been my life.

[tresapes]

Short Mary & Matthew ficlet #4

Prompt: Matthew recognises how much Mary supported him during his injury (with a lot some pushing from Isobel)

This one is Long. It took him a while.

Isobel was standing by the window in the library, a cup of tea in her hands, watching Matthew and Lavinia in the gardens below. Lavinia's mouth was forming words, gesturing excitedly, but Matthew was still and silent. He turned his face up towards the sky, and closed his eyes when Lavinia was looking the other way.

It was a sunny day. Maybe the sun would do him good. Shine through the shadows in his mind.

She felt someone stand next to her, and turned to see Mary with her own cup, looking out at the scene below. She found Mary to be a hard person, when she first met her. Now she knew the only thing hard about the young woman was the shell around her heart. It only made her wonder how much she hurt, how many wounds the world had inflicted on her before she shut herself away from it.

------------------------------------------

"Why don't I ask Carson to get us some sandwiches? You didn't eat much at lunch, did you not like it?"

"It was perfectly pleasant."

Lavinia frowned, but seemed to come to a quick decision. "Well. I'll ring for the sandwiches all the same."

Matthew didn't reply.

Carson was very prompt.

Cheese crackers with orange mascarpone and cucumber salmon squares. Matthew bit into one impassively. Lavinia looked on encouragingly.

Isobel frowned. He always preferred a sweet scone with afternoon tea. Maybe he preferred something lighter now.

He wasn't going anywhere after all, where would all that sugar go. The bitter thought hit her like a punch in the stomach and she had to ask to be excused.

Matthew didn't return her kiss goodbye.

------------------------------------

"How was he today? I was needed at the hospital, and only got back a few hours ago." Isobel was bone weary and not just from the long day. Watching her child turn into a shadow of himself really took it out of her, it seemed.

"Oh, much the same. We got to take a turn in the gardens but-"

Isobel noticed the girl frown. Oh, maybe, maybe he finally talked to her. "What is it?"

Lavinia shook her head "I think I made Mary rather cross with me."

"Goodness. What happened?"

"I didn't think, I got Matthew a blanket for the cold. But it had snowed and the blanket was long and- he wouldn't know."

Isobel frowned. No. No he wouldn't know if his legs were wet and frozen. Her hands tightened on her cup and she had to leave it back on the tray, her fingers tightening on her lap under the table.

"How was Matthew, was he upset?"

Lavinia smiled then "No! Not at all. He was kind, he didn't say anything, even though it was so stupid of me. I'll know better next time."

Isobel smiled kindly to the girl, even as her heart was breaking for her son. They'd won the war, but he certainly came back from it defeated.

"I'm sure you will, my dear."

Lavinia was still biting her lower lip "I think Mary was really upset."

Isobel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Certainly, Mary Crawley would be upset. Her attentiveness and skill when she'd been taking care of Matthew would have been the envy of an army hospital.

Molesley came in to take the tea trays, and Isobel offered her future daughter-in-law another smile. "I shouldn't worry too much. I'm sure Mary… kept it all under control. And she forgives. She might bite, but she forgives. Too much like her grandmother, that girl."

She got a laugh out of Lavinia with that comment, and the girl seemed to relax.

Isobel didn't want to but the image came to her mind anyway. Mary with that fury of the Crawley line swirling in her eyes in that contained way of hers, as she took in Matthew's shoulders hunched in shame, Lavinia fumbling with the blanket, a stream of apologies as she waited for a footman to come and sort it out.

Isobel was lost in thought and didn't realise Lavinia was speaking again "… she didn't stay. I don't know if it was because I made her angry or… I think seeing Matthew like that might be upsetting for her. She's always so polite, but she never stays long if we're in a room."

Isobel nodded, absentmindedly. No. Mary wouldn't stand by and watch any of that.

------------------------------------

"I was reading that."

"Well, you took too long, now I'm reading it."

"You must be joking?"

"You can't just monopolise the latest Montgomery, Matthew. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other and you seem to need as much to make friends with Anne of Green Gables. It might just be that you don't like each other."

Isobel watched from over her needlework. Matthew seemed put out, but his shoulders were relaxed. His index finger lightly tapping the arm of his chair. Like he was thinking.

"Are you friends with her then? Were seven days sufficient for you two?"

Mary lifted an imperious brow, and pointedly turned the page of the book she was holding. "Of a kind. I was a bit too old for it when the first one came out. But Sybil loved them and made me read the whole book to her."

"And now?"

Mary shrugged "It's rude not to greet an old friend when they visit."

Matthew chuckled and Isobel looked up at the sound, her heart pounding, only to see him turn his face down, and cover his eyes with his hand, rubbing his forehead. Tired. She watched Mary also sneak peaks at him from over her book, her dark eyes reading him more than the words on the page. She hid herself behind the book again, before she spoke:

"I can read it to you, if you'd like."

Matthew looked up, peeved. "I'm not a child."

She turned her eyes back to him, the imperious look back. "Of course not. But we must find some compromise, I'm not just handing this over you know."

"God forbid."

Isobel watched as they stared at each other. Matthew's finger was still tapping the arm of his chair.

"How about… I read it to you?"

Mary smirked, and offered him the book. Matthew smiled as he opened it, and Isobel could cry. He turned to the first page-

--------------------------------------------

"How nice, that I finally get you to myself. A rare gift these days!"

Matthew offered her a small smile, and Isobel could live with that.

"Where are they all anyway?" she asked him, trying to engage him in some conversation as she took a sip of her tea.

"Robert has a meeting with the tenants. Edith and Sybil are in Ripon. You know of course Lavinia's gone to London to sort out some errands for Reggie."

Isobel nodded. Of course she knew that. The girl stayed with her after all. "And Mary?"

Matthew looked out the window. They had a lot of rain after days of snow, and the mud was making it very hard for him to go anywhere. Not that he seemed to mind, even if he wouldn't look at her now, a frown on his face as he watched the world outside. "She's over at Haxby. Richard came around he probably… added one horrid thing or other to the place that he wanted to share with her."

Isobel tried to move past the tone of bitterness in his voice, as much as it hurt her to do so. God knew which of all the things mentioned would be making him bitter. She placed her cup back on its saucer. She'd have to drag it out of him, whatever it was, because he wasn't willingly sharing the things that hurt him with her. Not anymore. "She must be somewhat excited, to see the place she'll call home come to life." she pushed on.

"Downton will always be Mary's home."

The answer was immediate. And final.

Isobel wished she could give her son a nice shake. "Of course. But she'll live there, what does she say, what's it like?"

"Big."

She waited, expecting some explanation.

Matthew gave a short laugh then, and turned to her, lifting his eyebrow in perfect imitation of Mary "Really. It's just big."

Isobel watched as he chuckled to himself, his eyes lost in memory.

Goodness. It was perhaps, more complicated than she thought.

-----------------------------------------------

Isobel wept the night she saw her son standing on his own two feet again. She got home, and kneeled next to her bed, and thanked God in prayer like she hadn't done since she had been a little girl. Her son. Her boy would get his life back.

It had been a few weeks since then. Matthew hadn't moved back home yet but it was only a matter of time. Isobel visited every day, even though it was a flurry of activity there, and the kind of activity that tended to be tiresome.

Some of it was inescapable, like the wedding preparations, but then a maid was hired, or one of the old footmen wouldn't leave and there was a baby in the dining room but nobody seemed to know how he got there or what to do about it, and Isobel couldn't wait to get back to the village where people had normal problems.

She had thought, now that Matthew's whole life was ahead of him once again, and his brooding moods had returned, so would his assertiveness and confidence.

Instead he was often lost in thought, plastering on a smile when he caught someone watching him. More alarming still, he was quite withdrawn as they sat in the drawing room, to discuss some wedding plans, putting on that same smile whenever Lavinia or anyone else asked a question, but always answering with some variation of "Whatever you think is best, I truly don't mind."

Isobel listened to the girl, and made as many contributions as she could, along with Cora and Edith, who had been taking tea with them and discussing plans, Lavinia's excitement being quite nice to see.

They were talking about flower arrangements when she turned to Cora "Do you think Mary could help me pick the bouquets for the bridesmaids? I'm not sure which flowers to choose from, and she knew quite a lot about them when we walked about the garden a few times."

Cora looked lost for words for a moment "Oh… perhaps, why don't you ask her? I know she's got a lot on now, with Haxby, and her own wedding to plan-"

"Plus Mary won't lift a finger for things that don't involve her - like someone else's wedding" added Edith.

Isobel heard Cora's tut at the comment, but she felt a strong, almost maternal, urge to defend the girl. "Well. I for one am incredibly grateful to her, for how she cared for Matthew when he first came back, and I wasn't here to look after him. Even though it didn't involve her."

She watched Lavinia's puzzled expression, and wanted to tut at her own son who was focusing on staring at the carpet, his face pale.

"Did Mary really look after you, back then?" Lavinia asked, very kindly.

Matthew tightened his hand on his walking stick, and swallowed visibly, all the women staring at him intently. Eventually he shook his head a rough smirk on his face, his eyes troubled "You know Mary. She won't miss a chance to push someone around."

He got a chuckle out of Edith for that comment, and Isobel was about to reprimand him when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and looked up to see Mary standing at the other end of the room, having walked through the open door, unobserved.

Isobel's hands tightened on her tea cup as Cora greeted her eldest daughter, who was walking towards them, handbag still clutched in her hands in front of her stomach, like a physical shield.

Isobel saw whatever colour was on Matthew's face leave it as he whipped his head around to stare at the object of their conversation.

Mary spoke before anyone could utter another word "Please. Don't let me disturb you I just wanted to say hello. I'm quite dusty from the trip, I think I should like to change."

Cora nodded, eagerly agreeing "Why don't you ask Anna to run you a bath darling? It's been a long day."

"Yes, I think I shall."

Isobel saw her look at Matthew, very fleetingly, before she steeled her spine and turned, walking out of the room through the same door.

Isobel did not need to wonder why Matthew didn't speak another word for the rest of the visit.

-------------------------------------------

Matthew's foul mood persisted. For days. He'd finally moved back to Crawley House, but it didn't make any difference.

Isobel watched him stew in his misery and for once, she let him stew. He deserved it. Mary was being perfectly polite at dinners and visits. But Isobel doubted he managed to have even a moment alone with her. Maybe he finally realised that Mary Crawley did not just spend hours on end keeping a man company to lift his spirits because she had nothing better to do.

Lavinia had gone up to London for some wedding shopping, and Isobel was having breakfast with her son, as normal, for the first time in almost a year. It would have been perfect if he hadn't spent most of his time huffing behind his newspaper.

"You could just apologise, you know."

"Mother…"

"Don't "mother" me. I'm tired of your moping. Surely you can give the woman an apology, it can't be that hard. She's your friend-"

This time, a pained laughter came from behind the newspaper, and Isobel looked up. Matthew dropped the newspaper and got up, grabbing his walking stick and pacing to the window.

"If I start apologising to Mary I shall be at it for days."

"Why is that?"

"Please, mother, stop pushing. You wouldn't understand."

"Won't I? Might it have anything to do with your distinct lack of enthusiasm for your own wedding?"

Matthew turned to her, a frightened expression on his face.

"Or might it have to do with the amount of care Mary showed you, above and beyond that of even a dedicated nurse? Washing you, with Sybil. Sitting by your bedside throughout your stay at the hospital. Being there through your examinations. Being the one to break the news of you injury, of William's death. You think Dr Clarkson wouldn't give me all the details of your stay? That I wouldn't ask?"

She watched him pace in misery, and she let him wallow as she continued "… Or do you think I'd forget finding her cleaning your vomit and telling you everything would be alright? Perhaps you thought that was normal behaviour for a distant relation, I'm surprised you didn't expect Edith or Cora to do the same."

"Stop. Enough. I know this, of course I know."

"Good. Then maybe go and tell her why you told none of this to Lavinia. Or why you told Lavinia nothing of your retracted proposal to Mary, all those years ago, something that should be old history by now, shouldn't it? Instead letting Lavinia expect the poor woman to help plan your wedding."

Matthew shook his head "I wouldn't- I didn't expect-"

Isobel didn't let him misdirect her "… Or perhaps you'd like to not talk about Mary, and focus on you a little more."

Matthew covered his face with one hand, but Isobel had had enough. "Lets talk about why you only felt safe to take out your anger on Mary, and be so beastly to her, because Mary will forgive you anything, won't she? And she will put up with the moods you won't share with Lavinia. Lavinia who you will let mother you more than you've ever allowed anyone, even me, since you left the nursery. And I don't know if that should make me worry, or make me happy- that you'd allow that kind of care."

Her son's face was stricken. Isobel persisted. "But I do worry. Because it's not Lavinia that you can laugh with. Or laugh for. Even in your darkest moments. Is it? And I know you normally like an argument, my boy. So tell me. What are you doing?"

She could see his eyes flood with tears, and it broke her heart all over again. "I'm just trying to do the right thing, mother. That's all I ever wanted to do."

Isobel nodded. She knew this already. "But what is the right thing to do in this situation, Matthew?"

He shook his head, and dropped back on the chair heavily. "I'll go to the Abbey after breakfast. I'll apologise."

Isobel let out a breath. It was a start.

-----------------------------------------

He did go to the Abbey after breakfast. But he didn't apologise.

Isobel watched him find the courage to talk every morning, and then come back empty handed. Either saying that Mary was out, or nothing at all, just shutting himself in the library and not coming out until dinner.

She had to go to the Abbey herself a few days later, hoping to discuss some hospital matters with Cora. Carson informed her that lady Grantham was visiting the dowager countess, but she'd be back soon, so Isobel found herself sat in the library, with a cup of tea, when she heard footsteps behind her.

"… time to stop harassing Carson, I doubt there's anything that significant you wish to speak to me about."

"Stop punishing me Mary, you know there is."

Isobel found herself frozen still. They hadn't seen her, the back of the armchair covering her perfectly. If she made herself known it was possible that they would postpone the conversation to the next century. But if they saw her later… Isobel decided it was a risk she was willing to take.

"Fine. Tell me now, what is it."

Isobel heard her son huff, and could practically picture the annoyance mixing with guilt in his expression "I want to apologise. For what you overheard. It wasn't true."

"I know. It's fine. There's no need for you to apologise."

"It's not fine! Mary-"

"I didn't do anything expecting thanks, Matthew. I don't care what anyone thinks about it. Including you. All I wanted was for you to get better, and you did, so stop with your moping."

Mary sounded tired. Incredibly so. Isobel frowned, and wondered for a moment if she had anyone in her corner. Isobel had finally managed to get through to Matthew, to try and help him untangle his life. She thought of Mary and Sir Richard, and wondered.

Matthew might have seen the same weariness, because he spoke more calmly "I'm still sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve it."

"Fine. Apology accepted. Happy now?"

"…happi-er. Does that count?"

Isobel heard Mary chuckle "I'm the wrong person to ask."

Cora's voice came in through the hall then, and they seemed to find themselves out of time, walking out to greet her.

Isobel quickly picked up her cup and moved across the room, going through the door to the small library. If Carson found her transfer strange as he led Cora to her a moment later, he didn't mention anything about it.

---------------------------------------

"So. Did you make things right?"

Matthew looked up from his book as she walked into the drawing room at Crawley House that evening. Her talk with Cora took longer than expected.

"It's not like you to gossip this much mother."

"I don't think of my care for your wellbeing as gossip."

Matthew looked at her, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before he turned back to his book without another word.

Well. That was an improvement. "Any words of wisdom from your readings?" She said, dropping the topic for now as she took a seat across from him. He was healthy, and he was here. Everything else would sort itself out.

Matthew didn't miss a beat, turning a page and offering a quote "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes."

Oh dear. There was so much more work to be done.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 7 - Phase

@jegulus-microfic March 7 Word count 727

Previous part First part

24 hours earlier -

James was reading up on everything he could find on Basilisk's and other magical serpents. When an owl appeared tapping on his bedroom window, he let it in, instantly recognising the squat little owl as Peter’s. A wave of guilt hit him. He hadn’t seen Peter in weeks. He’d been so wrapped up in taking care of Sirius and worrying about Regulus and Remus he hadn’t spared much thought for his other friend. 

He took the note from the owl.

Hey James,

Long time no see. I’ll be at Cups and Saucers Tea Room in Diagon Alley at 4 pm if you’re around and fancy a catch-up. 

Send a note back with Jupiter. 

Peter

James hated that stuffy little tea room, but it was one of Peter’s favourites, and they didn’t go there often. He quickly scrawled an answer for Jupiter to take back and went back to his reading, looking forward to seeing his friend. 

At five to four, he apparated into Diagon Alley and walked the short distance to the tea room. It was a narrow storefront with an absurdly large spinning cup and saucer on the front above the door. 

James pushed the door and entered. A delicate bell tinkled as the door knocked against it, and a bored young witch stepped out from behind a curtain and greeted him with a dull monotone. 

“Welcome to Cups and Saucers. How many in you’re party?”

“Er—two. I don’t know if my friend is here already.” He tried to peer around the host, but she unhelpfully blocked the entrance into the tea room. 

“Right this way, sir,” She droned and turned, leading him to a small two-person table. 

“James,” Peter called from the opposite corner. 

“Oh, that’s my friend over there.”

“Whatever.” The bored witch had already wandered away back to her curtain. James went to sit at Peter’s table. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I just ordered the afternoon tea and thought it would be easier. It has a really nice selection of sandwiches and cakes.” Peter chatted excitedly. James gave him a wide smile. 

“Sure, Pete, sounds great.” 

They didn’t have to wait long before their order was brought out by the bored witch. 

“Here you go, enjoy boys.” She beamed before skipping back into the kitchens. 

“Wait, what?” James looked towards the curtain and the kitchen door. Her strange behaviour didn’t seem to phase Peter at all.

“Twins,” Peter said as he helped himself to a cucumber sandwich. “So, how’s things? How’s your mum?” 

“Oh, you know as well as we can be with a war on.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Mum’s fine, misses you. You should pop in and see her when you’re free.”

“Yeah, I miss her too. I’ll try and see her soon.” 

They sat in companionable silence for a while while they made their way through the food.

They talked about pranks they’d pulled at Hogwarts and memories from when they were even younger before they’d met the others, and it was just James and Peter. Peter seemed to want to talk about those times more and kept steering them back to those memories whenever James brought up Sirius or Remus. 

“Remember when we used your mum’s best tea set to collect frog spas from the pond? I thought she was going to disown you.” Peter laughed, spraying crumbs from his lips. 

“Yeah, she’s never quite forgiven me for that one. She has to keep it turned the other way in the cupboard so she can’t see the chip in the lid.” 

The cheery witch came out with their bill once they’d finished, and James paid for everything, refusing Peter’s pleas to at least let him pay half. 

“No, no, my treat.” James insisted. He added a couple of extra Galleons as a tip, hoping to make the hostess smile. 

They were just putting their coats and scarves on when Peter casually said. 

“How’s Sirius doing? Not checked in with him for a while.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Bit bored, but he’s fine.” It was only after the words left his mouth that James realised what he’d done. 

“That’s good. I’ll have to find some time to go see him and Remus as well.” He chuckled. James didn’t think the smile quite reached his eyes but shook off that feeling. It was only Peter, after all. 

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